Going to Buea...and thanks for your sympathy

Just a note to let you all know that we are going to Buea this Monday for a couple of weeks to do some research in the anglophone archives there. Will try to update the blog at least once while we're there. Looking forward to some time on Mt. Cameroon and getting on the beach at Limbe! And thanks also to many of you for your sympathy in our archival trials and tribulations. Things have happily gotten better. Barbara has come around a bit, though two of her assistants are lost causes. But alas! There is a new assistant that is fabulous and he works really hard to get us what we need. We told him we owe him a few beers for all of his help. Diana K. also tried to post the following comment in response to the archival blog--which we will definitely heed--but it didn't show up:

"Is there anybody else working in the archives? Or do you know anyone
who has? I'd be willing to bet that "no typing" and "we stop bringing
documents after 2" are NOT rules.

"If you were in Russia, I'd suggest getting the archivist a "present"
and explaining that really, you'd much rather type, because you can't
possibly carry all that paper back. Perhaps a present for the
assistant, too. But you should find out the culturally appropriate
way to do it.

"(to add to this, again, if you were in Russia, I'd see both "rules"
as pretty explicit requests for bribes)."

Harmony has actually already been told by her prof here that we need to pay the taxi fare of the archivist in Buea to give him a little incentive to actually show up!

C'est la vie...of doing research in developing countries!!

The Neighbor Baby - Gojo!!!

Gojo before:

Gojo after Halima got a hold of him:

Update on appearance (Sadie Hairstyle #1)

Collaborative Haikus, Group 1

Can’t sleep
The noise penetrates
In the middle of the night
The frogs are humping

Mathias
Lightening has struck me
I’m in love with your sister
I know where you work

High Octane
Boundless energy
“Iron Lady*, are you tired?”
Usuman can’t be stopped

*Usuman’s nickname for Sadie

My introduction to the national archives, or getting “lost in translation”

Day 1 – Wednesday, 13 September
After introducing myself to the head archivist, Barbara, I got to work making a list of all the colonial documents that I wanted to see, as per her instructions. One VERY fortunate turn of events was my discovery that the archive has a good amount of its German texts translated into French! But I’m afraid this was the first and the last of the happy moments in the archives for the next two days. Here are some summaries/extractions of my conversations with Barbara on Day 1 and Day 2 at the archives:

Harmony: Is it alright if my sister comes with me tomorrow to assist me in typing up the documents that are important for my research?

Barbara: Yes, she can come, but the number of documents is very great. You should use the photocopying machine here. I have assistants that do the copying, and it only costs 25 cfa a page.

Day 2 – Thursday, 14 September
Sadie and I arrive at the archives. I fill out a form of all the documents I want to see that day. I asked for 8, but Barbara only brought back 4, saying that when I was finished with these 4, she would get the others. Sadie and I get to work. After perusing my document a bit, I took out my trusty Alphasmart keyboard and set to work typing up extracts of the document. About 10 minutes into this, my dialogue with Barbara resumed:

Barbara: You cannot type out the documents. It’s necessary that you copy them.

Harmony: Really? I thought what you said yesterday was just a suggestion. It’s just that carrying all of these papers around with me, were I to copy them, would be very difficult.

Barbara: The director of the archives says no typing. You must photocopy. When you are ready to copy, give the document to him or her (pointing to the assistants).

Harmony: I’m sorry. I understand now, I didn’t know it was a rule.

Time passes. We’ve finished with the four documents and I asked one of the assistants to find the other 4 (the archivist has gone out for lunch). She goes and comes back a while later with only 1. “The other three weren’t there,” she said. “They could be in a number of places in the building. We can search for them next week.” Ahhh!!!!! “Ok, ok, keep my cool. Must be nice to the archivist and her helpers.” So I get through that document. By then the archivist has returned from lunch. It’s about 2:10pm, and I ask her what I should do about getting these “missing” documents, or perhaps asking for different ones so that I can continue working till 3:30.

Barbara: I’m really tired, and I don’t feel well. And the documents are far away; I have to walk all the way down to that building over there. Oh, everybody is tired today.

Harmony: Ummm….so I suppose I can’t walk down there and get them myself? (nudge, nudge, wink, wink)

Barbara smiles.

Harmony: So does this mean I can’t do anymore work today? I don’t understand…. The archive closes at 3:30, right?

Barbara: The reading room is open till 3:30, but we stop getting documents for you at 2pm.

Harmony: Oh! I had no idea. Nobody told me that was the rule. Ok…so…we’ll just leave now…. Every archive has its own rules, I guess…ha, ha, ha…uhh...ugh…..

In packing up my things for the day, I noticed on the door a list of rules for proper conduct in the reading room. While it said nothing about the 2pm cut-off time, the final and perhaps most defining rule I was forced to take home that day (accompanied by the virtual tail between my legs) was to “RESPECT THE HIERARCHY.”

The end of our street...

“La Blanche!”

“La blanche, la blanche, la blanche!!” Everywhere we go it’s “La blanche!” Yea, I get it. I’m white. Do you get it? “La blanche!” I guess not. Harmony and I deal with it by giving the locals a taste of their own medicine; however, “le noir” doesn’t seem to work as well. I just recently had my hair braided with extensions (aka mèche) which makes me stand out a little more and the stares and comments have increased in frequency. Yaoundé is a big city with a lot of white people walking around. In the less urban areas of Cameroon I don’t really consider the comments annoying, but in Yaounde it drives me nuts. I know why it occurs, but I’ll never get over it. The other day Harm and I were walking to the internet café when we passed a small group of African men. One of them remarked to the others en francais, “The white people look dead. Now why is that?” What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’d look dead too if you were as pasty as I am, but I can’t help that now, can I? Oh, well, “la blanche” I am and “la blanche” I’ll stay.

Slowly but Surely

Harmony here. Yesterday, Tuesday, I met with Gerald Chilla (the Cameroonian at the Embassy who helps out Fulbrighters) and my professor at the University of Yaoundé, Verkijika Fanso. Prof. Fanso was fantastic, even more nice and jolly than I remembered. We met with a few people, and he thinks we can get around having to pay the $1000 research permit fee; he’s even hoping that I won’t have to pay anything at all. Cross your fingers! I guess they are going to try to get me the permit through the university, saying that I’m directly connected to the university by virtue of working with Prof. Fanso. This all might take some time, but at least in the meantime he said I can start working in the National Archives here in Yaoundé, and he took me over there to introduce me to the staff. So I can actually start working! They are supposed to be open by 7:30am, but he said that is unlikely to happen on a reliable basis. The real downside is that the archives are only open till 3pm. But at least it’s a start. It’s so nice to finally get to work!

Third Person Blogging

Hey everybody…just so you all know, my sister Sadie and I decided to do this blog together. So, if you see the pronoun “we”, please do not be confused. Please also know that I’m not sick in the head (at least not yet) for referring to myself in the third person. Apologies if that was confusing in the previous blog. So for future blogs, just assume that both of us are writing the blogs unless otherwise indicated. So right now, I’m telling you that it’s just me, Harmony, writing this one, K?

Likes and Dislikes

We are borrowing this format of likes and dislikes from Harmony’s dear friend Rob in Colombia. We hope there is no fine for such an egregious violation of intellectual property rights! J/K

Dislikes

1. That the fee for a research permit increased just before my arrival from 10,000cfa to 500,000cfa (just a slight increase from $20 to $1000).

2. The little sparks that fly out of the socket when I try to plug in my laptop.

3. Although entertaining for…oh…about 5 minutes, the loud, pig-like snorting and duck-like honking sounds of the 5 million neighborhood frogs that get their groove on when the sun goes down.

4. Old greasy Frenchmen who hit on our lovely 15-year-old host sister.

5. The bandit-infiltrated taxi system of Yaounde and crazy-ass taxi drivers.

6. Imperious Americans at the US Embassy who scoff at the Cameroonians working in the cafeteria because they can’t make “perfect” coffee and have it on time, ESPECIALLY on the first morning of the work week.

Likes

1. Usuman: the Fulani business man who knows everybody and their mother; the guy knew so many people at the airport, he walked right past the immigration line to give Sadie free passage…and at customs as well. We also got our Cameroonian drivers’ licenses within a day.

2. Habiba’s fine, fine cooking – me oh my!

3. 4 host sisters who seem to have this incredible balance of self-confidence and humility.

4. Cameroonian employees at the US Embassy who are presently trying to get Fulbrighters exempted from the g*d d*mn $1000 research fee.

5. The fancy internet café with high-speed access that’s just a 10-15 minute walk from Usuman’s house.

6. Cameroonian yoghurt; it actually tastes like yoghurt (unlike most US brands).

Pics below: view from Usuman and Habiba’s balcony and 2 of our 4 host sisters, Adama and Halima

Arrival in Douala

Just to let all of you know, I arrived safely--but not uneventfully!--in Douala. Luckily the hotel that the Embassy has me staying at has an internet hookup in the room -- quite the surprise and a nice change from my first visit to Cameroon 7 years ago! Hopefully I can arrange something similar when Sadie and I are settled in Bamenda. We shall see. The flights themselves were fine, but in grand Air France style my flight out of Boston was delayed, shrinking my layover in Paris to just minutes! We arrived at de Gaulle airport around 9:15 am, an hour before my other flight was to take off. I thought it would be alright, but as some of you know, de Gaulle has to be one of the most poorly organized airports in the world. We all had to take buses from the airplain itself on the tarmac to our gate/terminal...and that ride took a half hour! We "landed" at terminal E, and I had to get to terminal F. I asked an airport agent if I could make it to F in time, and she said in French, "yes, they are just right next to each other." Ok great, I thought. But alas, only gates 1 thru 40 of F were next to terminal E. Gates 41 and up (where mine was) were in a completely different building! So I had to take another frickin' bus, which took over 15 minutes! Luckily I befriended the Algerian-Italian bus driver and he tried to speed things up for me (he thought I was was from Canada b/c he thought my French was good -- a little confidence in my moment of dread). When I finally got to the terminal, one of the agents thought I wouldn't make it, but she pushed me thru security anyway and then I ran like a bat out of hell! When I got to the gate, I found out that they hadn't embarked yet; they were waiting for me and some other folks whose flights had been delayed as well. Fricking Air France. Maybe some of you are thinking, well...people miss planes a lot b/c of delays. But the problem of flying to Africa is that most airlines only go to particular countries maybe twice a week. If I would have missed my flight, I might not have arrived until the weekend or even next week...leaving my little sis in the dust (she arrives tomorrow!). Luckily this didn't happen. And in any event, all of this craziness took my mind off of leaving home and being homesick...at least for a little while.