Aloha Oregon!

Winter in the PNW

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Thu, 08 Feb 2007 18:35:00 +0000

Winter, it seems, has been blowing by in the form of a few snowflakes, some drizzle and the regular recurrence of a cold, low northern sun. We have purchased a house in the still-industrial northern burrough of Portland: a neighborhood at the edge of which lies the Willamette river, its numerous bridges and Downtown past a starry scape of warehousing and train yards.

If one could picture a forest of pine trees invading the city of Pittsburgh and light rail commuter trains chasing box cars and locomotives into a final stand at the river - old, steel backs to the water -

it's a start.

Then, drink in a former stronghold of taverns and cash-only diners - now aged and diminished yet still loyally patroned - half recycled into Italian cafes, bakeries and rebuilding centers and splashed with bright paint.

Finally, stand on a bus corner. See the health food store across the street with its armada of 'bru wagons and vested, scarfed eco-soldiers. Watch a bus deploy its platoon of rough-handed long timers, minority high schoolers and paperback wielding transplants. Feel the ever present drizzle on your neck (if you're new and unscarfed). Smell the raw exhaust from a potent PNW grade octane, and listen for the boat horns playing a weary lament on the Columbia, reminding you that the pretty river to the south with its abundant, decorative bridges and city prominence is, at best, just a pretty face.

There's a bumper sticker here that I like, particularly as we live close to the Rose Garden, home to the Trail Blazers.

The bumper sticker says this: Bring NBA Basketball to Portland.

We've Moved to Oregon!

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Wed, 04 Oct 2006 23:54:00 +0000

It seems as though we've traded Cameroon for Oregon. In a humorous comparison, we are now in the 2nd "Whitest" state in the U.S. (after Kansas). I also work in the town of Beaverton (the city sign has a little beaver on it), have up until recently commuted through Troutdale, and am within striking distance of the little town of Aloha.

At the end of September, after weighing our options, we decided to pack up and head to the Great Northwest. We've been up here before: visiting friends in Seattle, close relatives in Hood River, and on a recent trip, driving out to the Oregon and Washington coasts. We like the trees, the people, are set on embracing the weather, and have procured for ourselves one of the ubiquitous Subaru that inhabit these parts.

I, (Chris), find myself once again at a computer, now doing contract software work, but hopefully something a bit more meaningful and rewarding in the months coming up. Kim's back on the job prowl after finding us an apartment within a mile of my company (go Kim!) and I'm stoked that I'm walking to work again.

We've spent some quality time with Kim's sister's family already. I look forward to seeing the friends in Seattle that we've known for some time, and embracing a new city in Portland, which is within reasonable distance of a very surfable North Pacific coast. I figure I'll have more water time here than in Africa, if it is a bit cooler to the touch :)

An oddity I've encountered, since coming here, is that Oregonians keep asking me, "Why Oregon?"

People in Santa Barbara never ask you why you moved to Santa Barbara.

Why Oregon, indeed.

I usually answer that I've come because family and friends are in the area, and I like the weather. It seems that most Oregonians also like their families and friends, and tolerate the weather (and like people who tell them their weather is great).

Those that know Santa Barbara find it hard to believe I'd want to leave, and sometimes I don't quite believe it myself.

But I know if I don't explore what the rest of the world has to offer, I'll never know anything more that a few dozen square miles and a little stretch of coast.

And I know I'll end up somewhere like that eventually :)

Cameroon Recap: Part 5 - Medical Sessions

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Tue, 05 Sep 2006 21:07:00 +0000

Part 5 - Medical Sessions

We had several ‘Medical Sessions’ meant to brief us on the many, many, many things we would come up against, but also to ‘reassure’ us that more volunteers got hurt in car accidents than fell ill to filaria, rabies, HIV and the like. We were also told that many of our host families had pets, and not to touch them until we completed our rabies shots. One of the families even had a monkey, and we were “NOT TO PET THE MONKEY.” I’m sorry, but get 40 young adults together tell them that and you can’t help but get some laughs, and requests for a repeat. “UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES ARE YOU TO PET THE MONKEY!” Our buddy, one of the class-clown types, ended up at the host family next door to us, with a family of 12 born-again Christians, and the monkey! He also got held up at knife point the 6th day in, and he’s still there. Impressive :)

One of my favorites though happened just after our briefing about what to do if we were injured or having a medical emergency. They told us to go to the hospital first and then to call the PC medical phone, as someone was on call and had it 24 hours a day for emergencies. They also gave us their personal phone numbers in case of dire need, and asked that we only really call if we couldn’t get through to the first number, and it was an extreme emergency. As we were sitting there during the lecture the emergency phone the nurse had sitting on her desk started to ring. She paused for a minute, picked it up and looked at it and, not wanting to stop the lecture, put it aside, saying ‘see that is a volunteer calling.’ It rang again, and someone behind me said “Wait, isn’t the ring tone Morse code for “S.O.S.?” YUP. Did she answer it, No. Hmmmmm. We then proceeded to a culture seminar on the problem with apathy in Cameroon. Seriously.

We also learned how to create “clean drinking water” by adding a good portion of bleach. Hmmmmm again. And that we shouldn’t use iodine tablets for more than 3 weeks straight as it would cause liver damage. Huh.

They did however furnish us each with a very nice water filter; move over Brita this was the real deal. We learned how to put it all together & clean it and all and then proceeded to our host families with all our bags, our giant filters, our large medical kits and about 20 lbs of paperwork and readers which we could never quite find time to read.

We made it about 2 days at our host family on the bottled water they had provided before we had to boil water for our filter. Water had to be boiled for 2 minutes at full boil before filtering it to make sure to kill all the little meanies and then clean them out. During dinner we told our host mom that we needed to boil water – the PC had already briefed the families that us Americans had weak stomachs and would have weird requirements – so she had one of the boys go get a bucket of water from the tap in the driveway and bring it into the kitchen. They then put it on the stove and pulled up chairs for us to wait. While chatting with the mom, the younger son brought in a stool, and then 2 of the other family members joined us. Now a large iron pot of water takes some time to boil, so after discussing how the school system works in Cameroon, I felt compelled to point out that we were in fact, watching the pot of water boil. And then in my best French tried to explain the expression “a watched pot never boils.” In fact it does, it just seems to take eons with 7 in the audience. THEN, once it had sufficiently boiled for 2 minutes the mom pulled the pot off the stove, and we proceeded to – watch the pot cool… so that we could put it in the filter (can’t do it while hot because it would break the ceramic filters). After about 5 minutes I realized that it was going to take a good hour to cool and that they had other things to do, and my limited French just couldn’t last us that long without many minutes of awkward silence, and so I made the suggestion that we deal with the cool water in the morning. Everyone smiled at my grand idea, and we went to bed.

Another interesting point in the Medical Sessions involved one of Cameroon’s big subsistence crops: peanuts.

We were warned by the medical staff about a fungus that can grow on peanuts if they get too wet and start to mold. We were told that this fungus generates a carcinogenic toxin…greeeaat. Alas, the first evening in our host family what were we offered? Why moldy peanuts. They had them drying on a blanket on the ground near the kitchen, with a stray rooster running around over them, and then put some in a bowl and offered them to us. They were, in fact, quite soggy and soft, and the shells all had some mold on them. Now I’m a peanut fan, so I didn’t want to give the wrong impression, or offend them by not taking the offering, so I had a couple, ate them slowly, dropped several ‘accidentally’ and skirted the issue. They all sat around knocking back handfuls and chatting. Scratch your head and say “wouldn’t you realize the peanuts were soggy in the first place and stop eating them?” Yeah, I don’t know….

Cameroon Recap - Part 4: a shoe, a shot & the police station

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Wed, 30 Aug 2006 02:57:00 +0000

Part IV: A shoe, a shot, and the police station.

People really do walk around with just about anything balanced on their heads. It was incredibly impressive, and I was told by one of the volunteers that should I ask my host mother she would have been very happy to teach me how; starting small to build up my neck muscles. They carried around containers with donuts they were selling 3-high, platters of bananas, platters with eggs & mayo (yes, lots of flies, and hot hot sun – we were duly warned to avoid this delight), and my favorite…. a single shoe. I kept seeing men walking around with one running shoe on their head, and wondering where the hell the other one was! Then I noticed that some of them would be carrying a variety of single shoes around, with one balanced atop their crown as a kind of billboard. They were shoe salesmen! I guess if you happened to like the one perched on his head you simply needed to inquire to get a matching set and jog on your merry way.

This was honestly one of my favorites – shots in a baggie. We learned a common saying during training: “Peace Corps Volunteers to South America return Revolutionaries, to Asia return Buddhist, and to Africa return Alcoholics.” Depressing, don’t know how true.
Sadly many Cameroonians have a problem with alcohol, and one of the easiest ways to satisfy your craving is to head into a shop, or corner store and buy a little plastic tear off bag, (think those racks near the cash register at the store here), filled with alcohol. A Shot-in-a-Bag, so to speak. They only cost about 5-10 cents! Apparently, we were told, you shouldn’t be alarmed if you jump in a taxi, the driver starts up, stops, runs into the store for a couple baggies, drinks them, and then begins the journey… I thought, hey if nothing else, throw a couple in your med kit, and if you get run over by a bus (or taxi for that matter) then you can splash some on the wound to disinfect it and knock one back to dull the pain….

They were also very fond of packing as many people into cars/vans as possible. 5 people on a scooter, with bags. No problem. Or as we managed in one of the PC vans, 19 of us! Good training for cross country trips we were told. Arriving only a little banged up about the shins at the end of our site-seeing trip back from the police station.
Oh – great story about the police station. So we all had to go and get our pictures taken for our in-country identity cards. We were put in a little wooden booth (think outhouse) and told not to smile. Alas, our black & white photos had us all looking either mortified or exhausted. Then we had to fill out a form and go in 2 by 2 to have it finished by 2 clerks. They cut the pictures out and placed them on the form with our info, and made them official. Then on to the height measuring & finger printing, measuring went OK. Though they were a bit pushy with some of us. Then the finger printing went like this: The man would take some ink, drip it on the edge of a desk, spread it out into a thin film, and take our fingers – all 10 – dip them in it, and finger print us. No big deal really, though they must have just left everyone up to their own devices to clean the ink back off (our wonderful PC staff had a couple buckets and soap for us) because there were black fingerprint streaks all over all the walls of the station – inside & out. So upon arriving it kind of looked like some unlucky prisoners had been dragged off grasping the walls for help (think nail marks on the coffin if you know what I mean.) And the smell – we must have been just down wind from the ‘toilet’ because it smelled to HIGH heaven, in alternating gusts of stench and foulness. Finally, as we were all finishing up, someone realized that they had accidentally used someone else’s form. Instead of just tearing it up and re-doing the fingerprints on a new form, the resourceful staff busted out some White Out and whited out the fingerprints. Naturally the ink was pretty dark and saturated, so whiting out really just resulted in a nice purplish hue on the form. Waited around, and started again. Great….

Cameroon Recap - Part 3: Hotel Hilaria

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Mon, 28 Aug 2006 22:09:00 +0000

Part III: Hotel Hilaria continued –

Our last night in the hotel we were surprised with seating outside for dinner, and some great shows. Not sure if it was the hotel putting it on, or the PC, but I’m sure the acts were happy to leave with some of our PC pay in tips. First there was a traditional Cameroonian dance group – dressed sort of like a Hawaiian hula, but African style. Three women and a man, who could shake it so fast our mouths fell open. They could honestly shake it SO FAST that their bodies BLURRED before your eyes! Amazing! One girl also shook it so hard her top fell off, but I guess that happens ;)

Then came time for them to pull some unsuspecting spectators up to shake it with them. Haven’t laughed that hard in maybe my whole life. Of course they didn’t choose JUST anyone to dance, but the ones that would make the funniest targets (the computer geek, the older reporter-guy, the shy girl) – and happily for us, they all got really into it – and sat back down to some extended hooting and back patting, but also with our great appreciation for their own sense of humor about themselves ;)

Then came some bongo drummers, that could beat it, (no pun intended) equally as fast. Which did of course lead to us nudging & winking about how they might be in other areas of the evening activities. There was another musical group after that and then some of the drummers stuck around to jam with 2 of the volunteers who had brought their guitars. So as the evening darkened we were soothed by a chorus of “No woman, No cry” ahhhh Bob.

Me and a couple of the girls then spent the rest of the evening speculating about the various budding romances already underway between the volunteers. We actually got the very cynical helper volunteer in on the gossip, and he was so caught up in it, he demanded I go upstairs, wake Chris up and make him tell me who the 5th couple was that I couldn’t remember. Ha! Apparently Cameroon has quite a high ‘success’ rate in terms of getting the single ones married off (either to other volunteers or Cameroonians). However they also have a disproportionately high rate of couple volunteers going home early… Go figure. I’m pretty sure one of the fledgling couples is probably already engaged by this point. So sweet, young love.

Cameroon Recap: Part 2 - Hotel Hilaria

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Sat, 26 Aug 2006 04:06:00 +0000

As we were falling asleep the second to last night we heard some loud yelling and banging in the hallway. Figuring it was just some of the younger, rowdier volunteers who had stayed at the bar after dinner for some beer, we rolled over. The banging got louder, the voice yelling sounded like one of the other, older, volunteers. We got up, opened the door and found our neighbor, we’ll call her “Judy” standing in front of her door with one of the other volunteers trying to get into her room. We only got one key per room, and most of the volunteers didn’t know each other prior to coming, so someone had to be responsible for the key. Now Judy had stayed downstairs that night, while her roomie, we’ll call her “Heidi”, had said she was going to bed early. So when Judy came upstairs to go to bed, she thought Heidi would be there to let her in, or would have left the door unlocked for her. Alas, the door was locked, it was about 11pm, and we only had to wonder what might have happened.

Did Heidi take the filaria pills and fall ill, hitting her head and passing out with the door locked?

Did she sneak off to a boy’s room, with whom we had all wondered if there was a potential
romance ensuing…?

What to do?

Chris climbed out our window, which had an adjoining balcony to their room. Now I say, “balcony” but basically it was a catwalk. About 2 feet wide with a 2-foot high wall, and a good three floor drop. He looked in the window, couldn’t see anything, but Heidi’s bed was kind of around the corner from the window… The music and the light were on though. Couldn’t tell if the key was in the door. He banged on the window – “HEIDI” he yelled. Nothing. Judy went downstairs and asked if there was a spare key. To which she was told no, the housekeeper had the only other key, and she had gone home for the night. Sorry. Meantime, the two current volunteers, read “babysitters,” had come up to help. The girl whaled on the door like nothing I’ve ever seen, and yelled for Heidi, to no avail. The cynical guy volunteer rolled his eyes, and moaned at the thought of having to make a late night visit to the guy Heidi might be hooking up with. Now, this might be awkward for some, and probably if nothing else, ruin the chances for any kind of future potential connection – as the insinuation would just be too embarrassing. But to make it worse, we were all pretty sure this guy was carrying around a pocket Bible with him. Not exactly the one you want to ask in the middle of the night if there is a girl hiding in his room, and could we please get the key.

Back downstairs, I pulled out my pocket knife, and we were about to try disassembling the doorknob, when we first decided it would be better to try opening the window again. Out the window climbed Judy, no luck. Out climbed the girl volunteer, Bang BANG, no luck. While we went in for the door knob, Chris climbed back out the window, and managed to lift it over the lock latch and pop it open. He climbed in the window, and what did he find?

Why Heidi sound asleep on her bed, glasses on, lights on, music on. Being half-dressed and the middle of the night – not to mention earlier in the day, an uplifting PC video screening about sexual assault – Chris decided it was best to open the door first. In we came, Judy, the volunteer, me, all standing there wondering HOW she could have not woken up. Then I said, well shouldn’t someone check if she’s breathing? Judy walks up to the bed, touches Heidi’s leg:

“Heidi?” she whispers softly.

Heidi: “ Huh, what? What’s going on?” She says, WIDE AWAKE.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah” she grumbles.

Touch her and she’s wide awake, but break down the frickin’ door and she’d never know! Amazing. Alas, Heidi felt quite bad about the whole ordeal, and we were able to stop Mr. Cynicism before he forever ruined the relationship that never happened with the guy with the “planner” in his pocket.

Cameroon Recap - Part 1: Arrival & Accomodations

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Thu, 24 Aug 2006 20:38:00 +0000

Part I: Arrival & Accommodations:

So I kind of feel the need to try and record some of what we did experience in Cameroon, before I forget it all. And also, so that people can have a little better idea of what the first 10 days of the PC were like for us.

We arrived at the airport in Yaounde and were greeted by many of the staff of PC Cameroon. Very nice people who helped us get through customs, gathered up all our bags, handed out water and packed all 46 of us on the bus. The Country Director, who had flown in on the same flight with us after having been back to the States for a visit, greeted us. There were a couple of current volunteers there too, to help us along, answer our questions and laugh at our both bright-eyed, and bleary-eyed (it had been a LONG flight) reactions to the country. They took us to the hotel where we would be staying for the next 5-6 days, got us all checked in and settled for the night. We arrived on a Saturday, and were told not to stray from the hotel on Sunday, as we didn’t know the area, were basically prime targets being the ‘dumb, rich, white, Americans’ we are, and needed to catch up on rest anyway – it would be a long week. We had no idea… Plus they reiterated multiple times, we would be here for 2 years (or so we thought) and would have plenty of time to explore and get to know the town and the people after we knew more about the culture, what to avoid, and had a better grasp of the language. We actually got a very effective demonstration of what we really looked like to the locals, from our Country Director during his introductory speech on Monday. He took out several $20’s and hung them from his various pockets, off his eye-glasses and the like, and then said – “this is what they see, when you walk down the street” and really, he isn’t wrong. A huge portion of the population is living on less than $1-2/day. So even with our modest PC income we were still doing quite well.

I don’t know about everyone else. But I was totally surprised to find that I could actually communicate with pretty much everyone in normal French. It wasn’t a dialect, or pidgin French or anything. “Est-ce vous avez les serviettes?” served perfectly to get me some towels for our room, and a “oh, your French is very good!” to boot!

We were placed 2 to a room in the hotel, and yes, Chris & I got our own room – complete with cockroaches that scattered whenever the lights went on, but they were babies, so it wasn’t too bad. We would find out what the grown ups looked like at our host family’s house later in the week – an event that nearly pushed me off the fragile & eroding cliff I clung to on day 8. The sheets & shower were clean though, and there was a TV that got the World Cup, so we were pretty happy. They served us 3 meals a day at the hotel – so we all had to rise before 6 to get downstairs in time for French rolls and coffee or tea. Some days we had jam, some days no jam, but when they realized we were all starving by about 10:00 and no longer able to concentrate on the important info they were giving us until after lunch, they started giving us eggs for breakfast too. This managed to stop me from waking up between 2am and 4am grasping my sides in hunger. For lunch & dinner we actually had 3 courses, which was unusual, and awkward, but good. There was always the French bread – often times with just a hint of mold on the bottom, and then the appetizer was shredded carrots with some sort of sauce. We of course learned to designate ourselves at the “veggie table” early on, to avoid being served the avocado with tuna appetizer, or other interesting selections. The main course was usually kind of a red sauce with cooked vegetables and rice. Not bad. The last day in the hotel they actually served everyone else steak & French fries, which I think went over quite well – though we got the red sauce dish with French fries. And several of those at our table fell quite ill that evening – who’s to say if it was the wine, the sauce (was there meat in it?) or the filaria pills we started taking (those are to avoid getting elephantitis and having a worm crawl across your eyeball by the way, so personally I thought a bit of nausea was worth it….)

Our days consisted of getting up and showering – which basically meant sitting in our tubs and washing while trying not to soak the bathroom – a la Francais. Having breakfast and then getting carted across town packed into PC vans, to the PC headquarters for informational sessions with the staff. Heading back for lunch, back for an afternoon session, often involving some shots, and then back to the hotel around 5pm, for dinner. Started feeling a bit like a jail. Especially with the 2 armed guards standing watch in the lobby for us.

Stay tuned for Part 2: hotel hilaria

Up at 5am, at Mervyns by 6.

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Sat, 05 Aug 2006 17:29:00 +0000

"Open, open, open..."

No, Kim and I weren't the ones shopping. Instead, this morning we led around 2 kids each from the Boys & Girls club as part of Mervyns' ChildSpree shopping spree where each child got $100 in free shopping. Sweet!

Mervyns sponsors the annual event for 30 kids from the club (those with the highest financial need) and a handful of us volunteers act as chaperones to make sure they don't blow all the cash on Air Jordans (or perhaps, footware sponsored by a more current basketball player but seeing as how I don't wear anything more formal than flipflops I couldn't tell you who that would be so Air Jordans it is).

Anywho, it was a great success and my two boys were each sporting new pants, shirts, jackets, shoes and backpacks by the end and Kim and I were feeling good about the way we started our morning.

Strangely enough, all of the boys from the club were finished a half hour before the girls, and as my 2 apprentices and I drank orange juice and munched donuts at a table in the Mervyns breakroom, I didn't hestitate to point this detail out as part of their ongoing education.

"So, are you guys happy with what you got?" I say.
"Yeah," they say, the younger boy holding his new backpack.
"Isn't it funny how all the boys are done already?" I ask, nodding to the rest of the breakroom.
"Yeah," they chime.
"That's because girls take forever to shop."
They laugh. I laugh.
"I know," the older one, nine years old, says with a grin. "Girls always take a long time." He takes a bite of his donut.
"That's because they want to try on half the store," I offer, in my infinite wisdom.
The younger one giggles and looks away. The older one has to put down his donut and cover his mouth to suppress his laughter.

I love volunteering :)

Gaming & Raining

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Mon, 31 Jul 2006 17:13:00 +0000

I've gotten Kim hooked on Jedi Knight 2.

It is a video game based on Star Wars (in case you are a girl or use a Macintosh and so don't know what this is). It is her second video game experience after Grand Theft Auto, in which she had a tireless delight in running people over with cars (*squish*), and I feel her education into geekdom is coming along quite well. I refuse to give her hints when she plays the game, so she muddles through giving the occasional "harumph" to remind me that my silence is annoying her. The funniest part of watching her play (and I know I do this too) is when she tentatively turns a corner and is fearful of what may be lurking around it, she'll physically lean over in her chair as if to peek around the laptop's screen. This is both hilarious and endearing to me. "Young Padawan, your training is almost complete."

And it rained this morning.

Every summer, Southern California is blessed or cursed with one day of rain. It usually comes in late July or early August and only lasts an hour or two. For a region of the country pretty unused to water falling from the sky, its quite a surprise. This unseasonal, yet predicatible event should, I think, be commerorated as a "floating holiday." Everyone should get the day off on Summer Rain Day whenever it should occur. But the following conditions would be in effect:

- Nobody can drive on Summer Rain Day. Whenever it rains in Southern California there is about a billion car accidents. Rain here causes everyone to play automotive slip and slide because no one seems to understand that their 5000 lb SUV sporting high performance tires doesn't corner well in standing water. This morning, a semi truck overturned on I-5 and they closed 3 lanes of traffic turning what (I'm told) is a hellish morning commute into a parking lot. So driving is out.

- Nobody goes to the beach. I'm not being selfish here, this is pure prudence. On Summer Rain Day, there is no sun and it is usually cold and the ocean has enough bacteria runoff to turn you green.

- Nobody waters their lawn. Need I explain?
(Our excuse was that the sprinklers were preset for 6am, what's yours?)

Of course Kim and I already had the day off so we're already playing video games. :)

Following the Yellow Brick Road

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Sat, 22 Jul 2006 15:04:00 +0000

July in San Diego after our personal tornado.

Its not quite Oz, but I feel that we're like the tinman and scarecrow (not to say, brainless and heartless, its an imperfect metaphor okay?) on our own little walking tour and have to keep pulling each other on. That, and the mist that hides our emerald city in the distance? Apparently, that's monsoonal moisture. Who knew Oz would be stuck under a high pressure system with unseasonable humidity. Baah.

Like Dorothy, I've also managed to surround myself with munchkins thanks to a wonderful organization called the Clairemont Boys and Girls Club. On weekday afternoons, I get to call myself a "volunteer" while pretending to be a kid again playing foosball, ping pong, basketball and doing some wicked block building with all my new 6 to 11 year old friends. Jealous yet? If you've ever wanted to go back in time and be the biggest kid at school - you know, the one who everyone looks up to because he can dunk the basketball (small hoops) and can score with the foosball goalie (little kids have weak arms) - let me impress on you that it can be easily done by calling it "community service." Wicked.

When dunking on 8 year old girls gets boring (i'm kidding, it never gets boring), there's been ample time to surf, visit friends in Santa Barbara and perfect my sudoku solving skills. That's right, sudoku. Though I doubt this skill will immediately translate into financial gain or have even the slightest benefit towards doing anything that isn't a sudoku puzzle, it is certainly possible that, when we reach the emerald city, through that green shining door with the little door in the middle, a little munchkin arm will present us with a 9 x 9 grid that claims its solution to be "very hard."

And I, my friends, will be ready.

Wicked.

Return

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Sun, 02 Jul 2006 18:34:00 +0000

KS -
So we’ve been back a few days now and are slowly adjusting to the time, food, climate (sure has been hot here ey?), and the idea of being here.

I feel I need to say, immediately, how grateful I am to be received by our true friends and family, with support and without judgment. Thank you to everyone who understands that this is something we wanted to do because we truly want to give back and that we still intend to do so, and that recognizing that something is wrong for you doesn’t mean you aren’t the better for having tried.

We knew it would be hard in many ways, we were prepared, we did the research and reading, bought the gadgets, talked to people, and thought we knew as much as possible about what we might expect. The reality was different, as sometimes it can be, in so very many ways, and only being there yourself can justly explain. The culture placed unexpected limitations on us, the welcome was more cold than warm, the optimism and excitement, not there in the way I had imagined. The apathy, resignation, and fatalism: Heavy. This is not to say that it was all bad. Or that everyone would have the same experience, that even we would have had the same experience, in a different country, or at a different time in our lives. Cameroon is a beautiful country. Look out Costa Rica if eco-tourism ever rears it’s green head, Cameroon will take you down! Some of the people and staff we met were wonderful, persevering and gracious. And, despite our quick departure, we were ensured that we will always have a family waiting for us in Mbalmayo, and that is so amazing.

I hear that some might misconstrue Chris’ earlier post on the time being hard on our relationship as a sign of marital trouble – being newly married and moving half way around the world – this wasn’t the case at all. The problem was not in the strength of our relationship, or the reactions we had being too different (in fact they were very much the same), but rather us realizing we liked what we had, and didn’t want to sacrifice it for what we thought we had come for. And the longer we spent the more we felt we might actually have to choose. It was culturally inappropriate to have the wonderful, silly, loving relationship we so enjoy. Showing any sort of affection toward each other - we were lead to believe, and to some extent experienced - was inappropriate and might actually put us at some sort of a safety risk. The experience is stressful – just making it through the day, eating and drinking - and not to be able to hold someone’s hand when you need them, is hard. And then when the day is through, you are so spent from having ‘survived’ you have little time or energy to put into that one you care the most about. Some may think we are naïve for giving up an experience like this because we couldn’t be mature enough to separate ourselves, but how often does this kind of happiness come around? You can put yourself through all kinds of torture alone because you think you need to, but it’s much harder to watch the one you love go through it and not question whether or not it’s worth it. We will find a better way, together.

After 10 days of unhappiness I caught a glimpse of the person I might become at the end of it, and realized that wasn’t the person I wanted to become. Those weren’t ways I was willing to change. Part of going was to try and change myself. But in deciding to come back I’ve actually found I like the person I was leaving behind more than I thought. So if nothing more, I’ve found many things I didn’t realize I liked so much about myself, and that’s not so bad J

All the people I’ve returned to who have said that they knew that person all along, Thank you. It makes me smile. I will take my idealism and the things I like about who I am and build on them in a positive and healthy way.

I suppose in some ways I felt that I needed to be a martyr in order to help people. That I had been given too much in my life without earning it, and I had to give it all up and be miserable in order to level the playing field and help. What I found is that I can’t be of much service unhappy, sick, or scared, and that I can do good from a place of balance within my own life. I don’t have to sacrifice my health and happiness to help others, of anything it would be doing a disservice to them to try. I could have pushed through for a couple of years, and come out the other side worn down and depressed, but able to check that duty off my list. Instead, I can resume my wonderful romance, dabble in the hobbies I enjoy, and do all the things that make it possible to maintain the momentum I need to live a lifetime of service.

So in closing, - if you are still with me J - I just want to say, don’t be afraid to try.Plenty of successful people can tell you that, and coming from them it might be intimidating, but coming from someone who has “tried” and “failed” I’ll tell you it’s been an amazing journey. I’ve learned that it won’t kill me if it doesn’t end up the way I had planned, that I can still feel better for not having to ask the “What if’s?” and realizing that I know myself better than I thought in some ways, and that in those ways I didn’t know myself, at least I could acknowledge my limits.

Back in San Diego

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Thu, 29 Jun 2006 15:27:00 +0000

CK/ We're back in the U.S. after 30 straight hours of travelling, of which, 24 were spent on an airplane. Once deciding that you're ready to go, the process of leaving the Peace Corps in Cameroon is relatively quick. The sheer fact that its Thursday already is a bit astounding. Each day in Cameroon literally felt like month. But since leaving the training site, the days have sped up. I look outside the window at Kim's mom's place and wonder that its still summer? That its still June!? Its 6am now, we arrived at the airport at 8pm yesterday and here's a brief synopsis of our last 2 days in Cameroon.

Monday.
8am - Tell the trainers we're leaving. They're shocked, we're shocked. We cry, they console, and a few of them look crestfallen. I feel lots of guilt.
10am - Return to our host family. Tell them we're leaving. They nod and look crestfallen yet they understand - they knew something was wrong with us. We cry some more and pack and wait to get picked up.
2pm - We return to Yaounde, see the medical staff, get forms and fill them out, get more forms for medical stuff stateside, get Larium to take for the next 4 week. Return medical kits, water filters, settle finances, meet up with the 2 volunteers who decided to leave before we did (we were not the first), talk a lot. At this point we start relating the process to that of a divorce. I feel this is apt so I'll try to touch on it again later.

Tuesday.
8am - Meet with the Country Director for our exit interview. We were nervous as we heard that when Simone and Julie (ET #1 & ET #2) spoke with him he was upset. I thought our interview went pretty well though. We tried to explain that we were deeply upset and depressed. That we were as surprised and confused as anyone. That we didn't feel that the staff had done anything wrong. We told about the extreme stress we were under, our health concerns, our fears for our relationship, the inevitableness of our decision, and our respect for the trainers and for the Peace Corps. But in 3o minutes I found it impossible to convey to someone we barely knew how we (Kim and I), were not the Kim and I our friends and family know. We were not the happy, enthusiastic, loving, curious, funny, expressive, empathetic people that I believe those who know us can see and nod and say, "They're perfect together... They'll go far... They'll do great things."

The Country Director asked if there was anything we thought they or we could have done differently. I felt pretty ineffective at this point. I told him that we had had the greatest hope and intentions upon our arrival, that these great expectations had somehow been turned on their head in mere days. My one suggestion noted that, for our personal health and safety issues, they should tell us more before we come or less once we get there, but after this was met by a harsh rejoiner that (Africa) was "Not a walk on the Santa Monica Pier," I was a bit glum and felt that our concerns were falling a bit on deaf ears. I was also surprised that we weren't asked more about the feelings of the other trainees. When we had told the medical officers that many people in our group were feeling similar to ourselves, the PCMOs were concerned as it was unusual for many trainees to already want to leave. Our interview was short (20 minutes) and went pretty well overall.

2pm - The four of us (Simone, Julie, Kim and I) leave for the airport. As there were no flights for us our of Yaounde on Tuesday, they drive us 3 hours north to Douala where the other international airport is. The drive was an exciting experience of dodging dumptrucks and logging semis (driving in Cameroon is basically a perpetual game of "Chicken" and accidents happen very often), appreciating the natural beauty of the country (once out of the cities, it really is very beautiful), guessing what the dead animals people were holding up on the side of the road to sell were (mostly squirrels and some opossum-looking marmots) and reflecting on the decision we all had made. I keep feeling very sorry for having left so early, yet I know it was our best (and only) choice. And the regret I feel is not for the decision made but for a reality that deflated our expectations and a vacuum that threatened to consume our desire and hope.

5pm - Dinner. After a long and sad car ride, our little group is happy and laughing. We talk about our homes and banter about what we will do after we return. We all agree that we feel an obligation, a weight on our shoulders that, at least for me, will occupy my thoughts and shape what I do over these next 2 years.

9pm - We board our flight for Zurich. I'm still upbeat but sadness creeps in and continually tests my conscience for any cracks of doubt. I quickly realized when we made the decision to leave that it was critical that I was sure it was right one. Conscience has a clear window to one's heart and there are no corners to hide in :)

After Zurich (8 hours), we went to Paris (1.5 hours), Houston (10.5 hours), and San Diego (3.5 hours). I rewatched "Rumor Has It" and "The Pink Panther," talked, reflected, slept and did a fair share of airport sprinting during which you feel very much a traveler.

The Most Amazing Thing Is Happening

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Tue, 27 Jun 2006 11:21:00 +0000

CK/ We are returning home. And we are more surprised than anyone. Though words seem inadequate to express the emotions that Kim and I are having right now our obligation to you, our friends and family, is certainly worth a try.

We arrived in Cameroon with the highest expectations and intention that here we would find a venue to share our skills, to contribute to the culture and to become better people through the process. In a matter of mere days, which have been more stressful and depressing than we could have imagined, we've evaluated our feelings about what we could do here, what this experience would mean to us, and the impact that it would have on who we are and on our relationship, and decided to pull the plug. Yeah, wow. You can see how this might be difficult to explain like this so feel free to give us a call after we're back in San Diego, where we will be as of this weekend.

I hesitate to draw any conclusions on our experience as we've decided after a -year- of planning and preparation and making the choice to come that this is not an experience for us at this point in our lives so Kim and I are likely still in a state of shock. But I can catalogue that our experiences here have already been trying on our physical and emotional well being, that we have felt that our relationship and marriage is the highest priority to us, and that we're doing this in our best interest and that this decision is the right one to make and is far better to make early rather than later. Whew.

I can also say that we are feeling exhausted but well, are smiling and feel happy and relieved that we are returning. We are the same people who left and (though the future is quite mysterious at this point) will find yet a new path to walk together.

We'll keep writing once we return.

Bon Apres Midi! We are in Cameroon

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Sun, 18 Jun 2006 13:53:00 +0000

Its Sunday afternoon and we arrived safely last night after a series of flights and are in a hotel with the other volunteers. Cameroon is a lot like Costa Rica in that its warm and humid, has red dirt along the roads and is very lush. The food is quite tasty with rice, vegetables, fruit, and fish but i think they are spoiling us a bit at the hotel. Training begins at the end of the week and other than today we have a busy schedule of orientations and immunizations. Luckily the world cup is televised! I would write more but we are splitting internet time with another volunteer.

Temporary Hold

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Fri, 16 Jun 2006 13:21:00 +0000

Hi everyone,

We are going to hold off on posting anymore for now until we can talk with the PC staff in country and get formal approval to blog from there. We are fine & will be emailing when possible, just following policy for now.

Talk to you soon from across the Atlantic!

Mailing Address

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Mon, 12 Jun 2006 00:39:00 +0000

By the way, if you wish to send us anything - letters, pictures, candy… we have our address for the first few months. We can email it to you if you like, and many of you already have it.

Important notes:
· I didn’t change my name, so don’t address stuff to Kim w/(chris' last name) I’m not sure I’ll be able to get it.
· Apparently the Post Office there charges some sort of duty on imports, so we will have to pay to get packages from them. I’m not sure if it’s based on weight, or value, but something to keep in mind… might be a bit conservative until we let you know.
· Should go w/o saying, but don’t send anything valuable, anything with any bank info or personal ID info, or anything else you, or we, would be heart broken if it got ‘lost’ in the mail…
· Mail is supposed to take between 3-6 weeks, so get writing now!
· Make sure to write PAR AVION or AIR MAIL on your packages, apparently it has taken upwards of 2 years for some packages to make it ‘ground.’

If you want to send us books, magazines, news, basically anything printed that might go by “Media Mail” here in the U.S. the Post Office has something called “M-bags” that are for international mailing of printed media. We checked them out online and it looks like 11 lbs is about $40 to Cameroon, much cheaper I’m sure than regular post. Just something to keep in mind, depending on if you are planning to send anything to us of that nature. We are bringing about 10 books, and apparently the PC headquarters has a small ‘library’ of books other volunteers leave behind to pool, so we should be OK for a while.

CHEERS!

the Packing List

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Mon, 12 Jun 2006 00:33:00 +0000

You are moving more than half way across the world to a land you have never seen, to live for 2 years in conditions you do not know. Will it be warm and tropical, mountainous and cool, hot and desert-y, or mild and equatorial? What sorts of amenities will you be without, or might you have: electricity, a bathroom, a shower, a TV, pillows? You will be meeting people of a culture you know little, and who have equally little knowledge of your culture – if that. You want to bring them something that makes a nice gift, and also somehow represents your background, but also doesn’t push you over your 80 lb. weight limit.

So what do you bring? This is what we are packing (cumulatively), we’ll let you know once we are there which of these sacred things actually deserves the title ‘sacred’ or is deemed completely absurd and cast aside in the airport even prior to arrival…

2 travel backpacks
2 carry-on backpacks
Assorted PC paperwork & health records
1 Ipod – 60 GB
1 Solio – Solar charger for ipods, cellphones & the like
2 sets of ear phones
1 crank short-wave radio – supposedly we can get the BBC – Thanks Josh : )
1 digital camera
2 – 512 MB Flash drives/micro vaults (“indispensable” as we hear)
Memory cards - 512, 128, 64, 16 MB
4 AA batteries
4 Nalgene water bottles
15 Seed packets for a variety of vegetables, fruits & flowers (hoping to have a garden, and thought the flower packets might make a good gift).
6 Burt’s Bee’s chapsticks
2 solar showers – (hoping for a hot one every now & then)– Thanks Jen & Karl :)
1 First Aid Kit – Thanks Aunt Theresa :)
1 nylon hammock – Chris couldn’t live w/o it
3 spare toothbrushes
2 tubes toothpaste (apparently Colgate is everywhere)
2 sticks deodorant (apparently tricky to find)
2 crank LED flashlights – Thanks Jodie :)
2 large containers of Cetaphil – 20 oz. each
approx. 25 hairties – not expecting them to be easy to get ahold of
2 money belts
3 cookie dough balance bars – should probably bring more, but can’t fit them…
4 woven Trader Joe’s bags – should be good for carrying things around
2 “swimmer’s towels” – light & dry fast (we’re arriving in the rainy season)
1 chess set
2 tubes anti-bacterial lotion
2 packs of anti-bacterial hand-wipes
about 10 razors – supposed to not be any good over there
24 large ziplocks – should be handy for all sorts of things
12 tubes of Doc Martin’s sunscreen – plug plug
1 shampoo/conditioner – (organic Giovanni’s 50/50 Balanced – great stuff!)
1 rubber doorstop – Thanks for the tip Brady
1 box Q-tips – seems like one of those things that they wouldn’t have…
60 yds of duct tape – highly recommended from a Cameroon RPCV
150 odd pictures of us, friends, family, the US…
1 Water Filter – Thanks to the Kamigawachi’s :)
1 pair hair cutting scissors, 1 pair ‘thinning’ scissors – 1 comb, (I’ve cut Chris’ hair 2X now, Thanks) :)
1 set nail clippers
1 French/English dictionary
1 copy – Essential French Grammar – PC recommended
1 box – laxatives (apparently can be an issue…)
1 petite sewing kit & couple spare buttons
2 journals – Thanks again Jodie :)
2 boxes tampons
2 bars of soap
1 compass/thermometer – Thanks to all mom’s flight attendant friends the REI gift cards were great!!
2 yoga mats
2 packs of sugarfree Extra gum – good to chew & stick things on the wall
6 months of thyroid pills
2 months of ‘the’ pill
3 pairs of sunglasses
2 sets eyeglasses
2 watches
1 tube shaving cream
1 tub ‘hair wax’
4 mesh laundry bags – 2 large/2 small
1 copy of Franny and Zooey by Salinger
1 copy of Absalom, Absalom by Faulkner
1 copy of July’s People by Gordimer
1 copy of Hamlet by Shakespeare
1 copy of To Have and Have Not, by Hemingway (can you tell someone was an English major? Thankfully, he will also be teaching English)
1 copy of Yoga published by the Yoga Journal
1 copy of The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
1 copy of The History of Love by Nicole Krauss
1 copy of Banker to the Poor by Muhammad Yunus - heard about him in ODE
1 copy of Confessions of an Economic Hitman by John Perkins
1 copy of The Plot Against America by Philip Roth (can you tell someone else was a Global Studies major who will be doing micro-credit development?)

CLOTHES:
2 large sunhats
1 visor
1 bucket hat
2 pairs running shoes
4 pairs Rainbow flipflops
1 pair of dressy slides
36 odd pairs of underwear – better to just bring extra…
5 bras
15 pairs of socks
3 running shirts
5 sports bras
9 pairs running shorts, 1 pair Capri track pants – hoping Kim can wear shorts….
15ish shirts for Kim
4 pairs of pants/capris
5 skirts – all below knee length
1 wind breaker
1 hoodie
2 pairs boxers – for sleeping
5 tank tops – probably as undershirts – bare arms don’t seem kosher
1 bikini
6 long-sleeved button-down shirts
3 short-sleeved button-down shirts
3ish polo shirts
5 pairs of pants
1 pair of yoga pants (Kim will be trying her hand at teaching :)
Several pairs of shorts
Several t-shirts
14 pairs of underwear
2 pairs of swim trunks, 1 pair board shorts

As Gifts:
2 tubs of chalk
24 colored pencils & sharpener
792 stickers
1 pack of UNO
25 balloons – thought we could set up a village water balloon toss!!
1 watercolor paint set
1 box of Velvetta shells & cheese (we’re going to cook for our host family)
1 blow-up “earth ball” like a globe but the outer-space view point

What didn’t make the cut:
1 pad of stationary paper & envelopes
1 nylon duffel bag – might have been handy once there…
Soccer cleats & shin guards
Surfboard *may be retrieved when we come back next year*
2 rashguards
Numerous copies of National Geographic & ODE magazine

How much does all this confounded crap weigh you might be asking? 45 lbs each – excluding maybe 10 odd pounds in our carry-ons. So basically, each day we plan to use exactly .068 lbs of our precious goods for our entire 802 day stay, not counting anything sent to us – see next email on that!

The Final Countdown!

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Fri, 09 Jun 2006 18:27:00 +0000

so, we're into the final countdown until Cameroon. We will be boarding our flight to Cameroon, via Paris in exactly one week. In just 4 short days we will be on a flight to Philadelphia for staging - the Peace Corps' cryptic term for briefing, paperwork & shots. We will be spending our last few days stateside down the street from the Liberty Bell and all those reminders of how America came to be, apt I suppose. We'll be filling out papers, getting briefed on what's going to be happening and meeting all the fellow volunteers who will be heading to Cameroon with us. And then, of course there will be the shots, neither of us are terribly worried about shots in general, the only anxiety comes from the strategic planning of the shots immediately prior to our boarding an international flight. If one of those shots doesn’t sit too well, that 8 hour flight will likely be more than unpleasant, and only to be followed by another 8 hour flight down to Cameroon. Not to mention that apparently Charles de Gaulle is pretty much the worst airport for losing luggage, and we wouldn't be the first volunteers to arrive in our new country without all the things we've been SO meticulously shopping for and packing. Oh well, if that's what happens such is life, I have a feeling the PC will allow us many opportunities to shake our heads and smile at our misfortune and find some unique way to make do and come out with a good story. Like that time we got stuck in the elevator in Hawaii…

And really, going as a couple allows us not only the convenience of a built in companion, but also the ability to cheat while packing. While everyone going alone has to bring all those random essentials by themselves in the allotted 80 lbs, we get to split it up between us. Being married is great :) Though, I must say, the closer we get to leaving the more respect I have for the people heading off into this adventure without someone to hold their hand. Kudos to you all.

We've pretty much tied up all our loose ends in the U.S., gotten to see most of our close family & friends before we go (including a lovely breakfast this morning with our PC recruiter Brady & his wife), got all our banking in order, and sold the vast majority of our possessions. Including.... our cars!!! We have no house keys & no car keys, nothing on our key rings except for a bottle opener. Quite odd, but also a bit freeing, makes you feel liquid, like those people who live on their boats. On Tuesday, we said goodbye to Chris' Nissan pickup - in which we road on our first date btw - and we're already saving the world. The new owner is benefiting from not only about 8 extra MPG, but also about 5 less sets of brakes to be replaced, EVERY YEAR! That's significant : )

And yes my friends, the bug is gone. My first and only car, which I’ve had for over 10 years, is in someone else's hands. Probably pulled apart for parts & getting a new frame, it will be reborn into something else entirely, clean and shiny. A little sad, but really I'm looking forward to coming back and getting something a bit more reliable... praying the US will wise up and start importing Smart Cars (hopefully hybrid or electric) in the next 2 years.

This transition point is a funny place to find yourself, you have all the basics you need, but are also mentally preparing the leave it all behind for something new & absolutely different. There may be things we will miss (warm water comes to mind), but we can't help but be excited for the chance to shake things up, do something meaningful & challenging, and leave the ridiculous things that we already dislike about the ‘developed world’ behind (like the MTV awards on last night, Fox News, silly sweatpants with writing on the bum, and those giant sunglasses!) at least for a while. Maybe we will return refreshed and better able to appreciate all we do have, or maybe we will realize that all our time and energy is going to fabrications of the media, and we are so much happier living a simpler life, making real contact with people and not wasting our time playing games. Come to think of it living on a boat doesn't sound so bad.... did anyone see that news story about the new Crusoe who is building his own island out of sand covered barges floating on top of used water bottles? He's gonna go float off to sea by himself with his garden, fruit trees & a couple chickens, sounds pretty sweet actually.
Aloha.

Whew, Memorable Memorial Road Trip Over

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Thu, 01 Jun 2006 20:04:00 +0000

Time is plummeting by. That is, rather than flying, gravity has taken over. In less than two weeks we'll be at staging, but I'm suspicious that we've been more busy now than we'll be in the Peace Corps.

We took a Road Trip last week up California to see friends and family: 1400 miles in some 6 days. We hit Santa Barbara, Woodland and Santa Cruz, saw Mike, Karen, Eli, Ollie, Josh I., Christina, my parents, my aunt's family and my sister (plus UCSC dorm people - what a crowd!). It was a swell time of people-seeing (as opposed to sight-seeing) and I feel like I'm gathering up as many memories of "pre-African Life" that I can in order to carry them with me across the Atlantic. And by the way, what a beautiful state! I don't think I've ever seen Southern and Central California as lush as they are now. Besides the sprawling migrane that is The 405, a rain sogged Spring has birthed a Fresh, Green Summer.

Since returning to San Diego, we're put up our cars for sale (does anyone need a nissan frontier or volkswagen bug?) and I've read The Da Vinci Code. As for my take on the novel du jour, my mother once told me if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. But I have one nice thing to say: it was an exciting treasure hunt. There. That's it.

And now, accolades:
1. To Barcelona Football Club and the Cameroonian International, Samuel Eto'o. Congratulations on the Champions League Win and your game tying goal.
2. To extreme low tides and sage advice. I pulled in, took the high line and found my first floater on the fish. (thanks Dave)
3. To Denise, congratulations on the B.A.
4. To friends in Santa Barbara, for everything.

The City of Brotherly Love

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Mon, 22 May 2006 02:13:00 +0000

So we have one stop off for "staging" before we go in a few weeks. Its a couple days, we meet other volunteers, go over the basics of conduct, how to keep our noses clean and finally get pumped full of immunizations. Yes, they do them all on the same day and, to add insult to injury, we get them the morning before we leave the country. C'est la vie.

We have been accumulating items on our packing list and have been in contact with a volunteer already in Cameroon who has allayed many of our fears about dress and amenities once we arrive. Though we aren't guaranteed electricity, its a real possibility (particularly given Kim's assignment) and we stand a reasonable chance of having indoor plumbing - we might as well be staying at the Hilton! In addition to providing some great advice, she said that her fear that she'd be "huddled over a hand-crank shortwave radio praying for the BBC" was completely unfounded.

Having recently placed an order for a hand-crank shortwave radio myself, I found this to be quite ironic.

I'm also fairly sure that I'm not going to bring a surfboard when we leave, after much reflection and pondering on the issue. Foremost is my concern about the cultural impact of a tan surfer showing up, board-in-tow, into an impoverished community living vastly different from myself. I cannot know how readily we will be accepted into day to day life there, and I don't want to make my (and Kim's) jobs tougher during the transition period. Also, during the first 6 months, we won't have much time to travel as we will be in training (not by the coast) and then learning our jobs at our new post (If by chance we're on the coast, overlooking a prime reef break, I can always have the board shipped to us). Plus, we're planning on making a trip back to the U.S. sometime next year, so I'll have ample opportunity to change my mind (as well as ample time to polish my soccer skills :)

we're going to cameroon!

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Fri, 05 May 2006 01:10:00 +0000

that's right, we recieved our peace corps invitation yesterday for Cameroon in Central Africa and are accepting it. We leave for our 2-day staging on the East Coast (Washington or Philadelphia) on June 14th and depart for Africa immediately following. This is quite soon and understandably we're quite anxious about everything we now need to do - getting diplomatic passports, visas and such.

chris will be teaching english and kim will be working in small business development. we do not know where in the country we will be placed and won't find out where until after our training in cameroon is complete (in august). we do know that we will be in the french-speaking portion of the country and so we will both become fluent in french.

unfortunately cameroon did not make it into the World Cup, yet they still field a formidable soccer team.

leaving santa barbara

noreply@blogger.com (alohaafrica) — Sat, 29 Apr 2006 19:40:00 +0000

today, we pack.
tomorrow, we move to san diego to await our departure to africa, to join the peace corps.
we do not know where we will go, nor when.

aloha.
kim & chris