My New West African Home

October 19, 2010
No, I don't live in a hut. My floors are not made of mud and I don't live anywhere near lions, tigers or bears.

In Cameroon, my apartment has running water, indoor plumbing and I have a room I don't share with five other people. BCS (By Cameroonian Standards. I'll be using this acronym a lot) I am very well off.

By American standards, there were things I had to get used to: Freezing cold shower water, daily power outages, bed bugs (and every other kind of creepy, crawling creature), taking bucket baths when the water goes out, sucky internet and waking up at 6 AM to the sounds of children singing, mothers screaming and construction workers pounding above my ceiling.

Welcome to my West African home! Here are pics of my apartment that I share with a fellow American volunteer, and some of my neighbors.

 Click on the picture to read the description.
Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.
 

Hearing between the signs

October 14, 2010

He made a cross with his fingers and pointed it toward me. I furrowed my brow.

If a kid walked up to me like this in America, I would have forked over my wallet, because surely, he was throwing up a gang sign. But this isn't South Central. It's the Buea School for the Deaf and this boy only wanted conversation.

“What is your name?” he asked in sign language.

I twisted my fingers rather clumsy to spell what I hoped translated to Heather. He shook his head and smiled.

It is the end of the ...


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A Blessing in Cameroon

October 7, 2010