It’s been three weeks since I left Kolofata, and I guess I’m still processing things. Overall, I’m really excited to work in Kolofata, and it was great to see how much work the volunteer I’m replacing has done over the past two years. But, Brianna has left some pretty big shoes to fill, and I know that my next two years won’t be easy.

So, we left Yaounde at 6:00 pm on the train. The next morning, we came to a standstill, because the train had apparently split into two and left us behind. Great. So, we had to wait a few hours before the train somehow came back. One of the other trainees even got off the train with his counterpart and visited people he knew in a nearby village. They both almost missed getting back on the train.

We finally arrived in Ngaoundere (the capital of the Adamawa region) around 4 pm, after about 23 hours on the train. It was too late to take the bus to Maroua (the capital of the Extreme North Region), so we took the bus to Garoua (the capital of the North region) instead. We were sort of supposed to travel with our community hosts, but my host, Falta, decided to spend the night with a friend in Ngaoundere. So, I tried not to freak out about being alone for the last leg of the journey, since Brianna had given me the phone number of a two moto drivers who knew where she lived and could take me to her house. Anyway, we stayed at a rather sketchy-looking hotel, where it took my roommate Jess and me several tries, with help from staff, to lock our door. But, on the upside, it had running water, and I took my first shower since arriving in Bafia.

The next morning, we took an early bus to Maroua. Two volunteers met us at the bus station (“Look! White people!”), and we walked several to the case, also known as the transit house, where volunteers can stay when they’re traveling. There were a ton of volunteers, who were all there to help accompany us to our sites. After lunch, I took a van to Mora with Jess and Liz, a current Education Volunteer. By a great coincidence, I found Falta at the station, and she had already bought a ticket for the van that was about to leave. She told me that she’d meet me in Mora, and we’d travel to Kolofata together. Cool beans. Except that I still spent the whole 1.5 hour ride being paranoid and wondering if I had misunderstood her French and that she was going to go ahead. When we arrived in Mora, I was so excited to see Falta that I hugged her. Cameroonians don’t really hug, so I think that I may have freaked her out. Oh, the awkwardness in my life ensues. Falta had already found two motos for the 45 minute journey. I’ve never ridden a moto for more than 15 minutes, and I may or may not have panicked the whole 45 minutes, with my panic diminishing when I would see a blur of orange and knew that it was Falta (I can’t wear my glasses when I wear my moto helmet.) I then realized just how much my life is in the hands of the moto driver. My thoughts ranged from, “Gee, he could take me to Nigeria and kill me,” to “If we run out of gas, I am going to kill him.”

So, Kolofata. It’s a nice little village of 3800 people, with about 30 smaller villages surrounding it. It’s 80% Muslim and 20% Christian. It’s sort of isolated and a pain to travel to and from, but parts of it are well-developed because it’s the vice Prime Minister’s hometown. He has a huge compound in the middle of the town, with horse stables, peacocks, tennis courts, and volleyball courts. I have both running water and electricity. The market in Kolofata is really tiny, and Brianna traveled a lot to Mora to buy groceries. There’s only one restaurant in the town, but it’s really good. So, I’m sure I’ll go there a lot, when I run out of food or cooking gas, which is also a common problem in the Extreme North.

The Kolofata District Hospital is really nice. It is run by an American doctor, Dr. Ellen, and Myra, the hospital administrator who’s Canadian. They’ve been in Kolofata since 1990. There is also a Congolese surgeon. There are also about 20 nurses and several Community Health Promoters, like Falta.

I’ll be the second Peace Corps Volunteer in the Community Health Program. Prior to Brianna, there were a few Agroforestry Volunteers, so the town is somewhat familiar with Peace Corps. People are also kind of used to seeing foreigners in general because of the medical students from around the world who work at Kolofata for weeks or even months at a time. However, I’m not sure if there have been a ton of Asians or Asian Americans. While I was eating breakfast, one woman pointed at my hair and was like, “It’s black!” as if she was surprised.

Kolofata isn’t as green as Bafia, but it has a lot more trees than I had been picturing in my head. I can see the mountains just a few kilometers away, including some mountains in Nigeria, which makes me really happy. The border is only 10 kilometers away, so a ton of people travel back and forth, which is why I saw a lot of people using Nigerian money. I am still really worried about the heat. But, I’m trying to appreciate it. For example, when I stand in the sand, I can pretend that I’m on the beach and not on the Sahel desert. Another plus of this heat is that after I hung out some clothes to dry, I put them against my face and realized that they were so warm, it felt like I was taking them out of the dryer at home.

the living room of my future house!

my dog. his name is McLovin'

I spent Monday morning at the hospital, watching rounds. I also got to sit in on their weekly staff meeting, where Dr. Ellen introduced me.

On Tuesday, we went to the hospital again, and I watched Brianna give a presentation on soy, with Falta translating into Kanuri, the main language of Kolofata besides French. There was a pretty good crowd – about 30 women and their sick children. Malnutrition is a huge problem here, and Brianna has been trying to get people to introduce soy into their diets, First, Brianna explained why soy was so good and how, while it may seem expensive, is actually a lot cheaper than other foods in terms of how much protein it provides. Then, Falta actually built a fire and prepared soy milk, just out on the ground in the middle of the hospital area. The women seemed really receptive and really enjoyed the soy milk, so, hopefully, maybe a few mothers will actually use soy.

Brianna and Falta explaining the high protein content of soy

starting a fire at the hospital

preparing soy milk

tasting the soy milk

Then, on Wednesday, I went around with Brianna to surrounding villages, to three wells that she was able raise money for to build through the Peace Corps Partnership Program. We then went to Mora and hung out with several other volunteers and trainees.

On Thursday morning, we took the van back to Maroua.  I got to see a lot more of Maroua this time around. I had pizza for lunch! It was so good to eat real cheese! Later, Jess and I decided to check out the market. It’s really huge. There were just rows and rows of people and merchandise. We both bought stuff, and we both got to commiserate over our terrible bargaining skills. But it’s good practice, at least. We took the bus from Maroua at 4 am on Friday morning to ensure that we’d catch the train in Ngaoundere. I don’t know if it was the safest thing to do, having 15 of us walk several blocks in the semi-darkness. But I’m glad it all worked out.

After the 10 hour bus ride, it was really fun to walk around Ngaoundere for a few hours. I found Dove soap! And Pringles! Both were rather overpriced, but, hey, they made me happy. The train ride was much less eventful this time. When we arrived in Yaounde, Peace Corps staff was there to meet us and to help us get taxis to the Peace Corps office. Yaounde is just a completely different world. I had a cheeseburger for lunch! And I went to the supermarket and splurged on Twix, Toblerone, Tic-tacs, and quality toothpaste! Then, I went back to the Peace Corps transit house and took my first hot shower since I was in Brussels. Man, I felt so clean. A bunch of people decided to stay in Yaounde for the night, but I went back to Bafia that evening with half of the trainees. After 8 days of living out of my small backpack, I was ready to sleep in my own bed again (even if it had only been “my” bed for only a week since I moved to Bafia a week before site visit).