Vive le Dash

Trying to integrate myself into my community I bought a sheep.  Or, well, a ram.  Her... his name is Bessie.  Like a cow.  Cause I'm still American. Meet Bessie!  Of course, Bessie had to die.  For the Fête de Mouton!  It's a festaval to remember that time God was all like "Abraham, kill you son." and Abraham said, "Sure, sounds fun." and God said, "seriously?  That's weird, let's eat this ram instead."   Meet Al-hadji Awal.  My best friend.  He's happy with his knife. So anyway, Al-hadji sharpens up his knife (no gross pics) and brings out his ram all hog-tied and sacrifice ready. Hi nameless ram! He went quietly which was nice.  Bessie turned out to be a fighter though.  Probably because we dragged her to a pool of blood where her buddy died. Zoom in for fearful eyes. In the end, they were both delicious.

Well, what do I think of the place?   Been here slightly over two weeks and I can tell you it has flown by.   I'm ever so slightly feeling settled in.   A lot faster than in Bogo I might add.   Part of that has to do with my French level, part of it has to do with the fact that I have a decent idea what I'm looking for when it comes to work and people, and the major part is all luck.   I'm pretty comfortable with luck; it's gotten me this far in life. Today we'll start with the home.   It's a good home.   I'd like to say solid, but it's sort of made out of mud.   Not like a mud hut with thatch roof you'd see on TV, but it ain't concrete.   More like some mud brick sort of situation.   It sort of crumbles when I put nails in it.   The nails stay though, so I can't complain too much and all the houses are made of it.   It's not the prettiest material to work with, but it seems strong enough.   Plus mine is painted blue a...

FINALLY!  Care packages!  The oldest was sent in November.  There were Christmas cards inside.  Apparently they've been sitting in some warehouse Lord knows where.  It matters not; they are here now and mine, all mine! LOOK AT THEM Now I don't suppose you can just sit in some Cameroonian prison and walk away with no scars.  Two of them sufferred attacks from mice (judging by the size of the holes, they were nothing like the rat demon that haunts my home).  Losses were minimal, but acute. Found the cheese... Why, God?  Why? I cannot express how awesome a day was this day.  So many delicious things.  Candies and cookies and sauces and shit I can bake into brownies and cakes!  CHEESE-ITS.  I'm going to have blueberry fucking muffins!  There are tears.  I cannot express this level of graditude.  CHIPS.  Look at all the loot! There were probably other things of worth in that vast pile, but...

People gots ta eat.  In the Extreme North, they need to eat better.  I seem to focus a lot of my work on nutrition education, particularly for mothers and children, but really everyone needs it.  One of the things I want to get going in Bogo is soy.  It's relatively cheap and definitely so when considering the nutritional value. Plus, turns out, it can be delicious.  On paper I'm trying to help out people.  In reality, I'm just hungry and will lose my mind if I eat any more damn massed up millet. Now making soy into an edible product is apparently difficult and an all day affair.  Which is exactly why I need to teach other people how to do it for me. STEP 1:  Soak the beans for a bazillion hours (or twelve).  OK, easy enough, wash 'em and throw out sticks or twigs or whatever, then toss 'em in water over night.  Now they absorb water, so make sure there is plenty.  Else you end up with the top HALF moldy by morning...

A little while ago I was exploring Maroua.  Someone told me of a tiny shop that sold some things imported from France.  I'm sure you can imagine what I was hoping for... and I found it!  CHEESE.  And not that silly laughing cow crap that tastes sorta but not quite like creme cheese.  Now they only had two kinds, but one of them was GOUDA (the other was a brie sort of something).  I may have spent what I make in a day and what some people here make in a week (or year, depending), but I bought myself some damn cheese. What did I do with that cheese?  Anyone who has had the luxury of spending a late night after a few rounds with me knows that my favorite thing to make in the world is grilled cheese.  Or a quesadilla, same thing. Yes, that is mayo.  If you aren't using mayo, you are doing it wrong. Just a couple of other ingredients that are relatively easy to come by and we were off to a good start. You can almost smell it. Bagu...

I don’t know shit about Cameroonian foods.  At the same time I desperately want to talk to you about it.  You just NEED to know.  The thing is, I’ve only been living in one place.  Everything I hear about food here is that it varies drastically.  They have bushmeat down south (which could really be anything, but is probably monkey) to apparently a ridiculous number of cattle in the northern center.  They have jungle down south with all the tropical fruit you could want all the way to desert in the north.  There are places in the middle where you can literally grow just about anything.  Variety is the word. And I get none of it.  It’s a logistical problem really.  I had a hell of a time explaining this to Mamma Alice (I really have no idea what to call the people in my host family).  She was asking me what sorts of foods I liked and ate at home.  More importantly how and I tried to explain to her that we don’t really do ...