January 23, 2014 Yesterday, I saw a kid pee on a cat after he chased me around trying to pee on me. I thought it was just for fun, but after seeing the cat soaked in pee I realized it could’ve been me. I did laugh a little, because it is funny to see a kid peeing on a cat sleeping on the ground. The cat simply woke up and stood up. He was probably confused, unless this isn’t the first time, which is a definite possibility. Today, I had a conversation with my guy friend about how one boy/man is equivalent to two girls/women. It’s difficult to express myself very well in French, but I did say I wanted to hit him a few times during the conversation. I don’t think he realized I wasn’t kidding. After I said girls/women are important for many things in life, he agreed that women are important for giving men children and for feeding them when they are hungry. It was all I could do to not become extremely angry with my friend and argue my point. Coming from a culture where women are seen as equivalent as men, this was very difficult. Granted there are people back in the States who think less of women than men, but not in my family. My family is full of girls who were raised to believe they can do what they want and women can be just as strong as men. Whatever men can do, women can do too. I realize there is a difference between men and women and physically men can be stronger than women. But, I have sisters and friends who could beat many men at a physical competition. I’ve always believed that I, a woman, can do “whatever my heart desires” (as my dad says). The conversation of the importance of men over women crushed me. I realized he was not embarrassed, ashamed, or anything of what he was telling me. I think it is just considered an assumed belief here. Everyone knows this. I knew this was part of the culture coming here but to have it right in my living room shoved in my face was a wake up call. How can I work here? How can I invoke anything of worth as a woman in a man’s society? I don’t know if I can. I don’t know how to grasp or empathize with this type of thinking. I want to scream at all the men how important women are and how much potential there is for society if they give women the chance to prove themselves. Women work all day long for their families. They take food from the fields, they prepare all the meals, they watch over the kids, they take care of the house, and they make sure there is warm water for their husbands and sons to wash their hands and feet before they go to prayer five times a day. It is so obvious to me how important women are to life here. How can the men not see it? I shouldn’t say just men, because if you are a woman living in this society, I imagine you would think this way too. It would probably be difficult not to. The other day I went to a small fête (party) for a marriage. I didn’t really know what to expect, but I brought my camera and wore my best pagne dress. It was a women only party where the family of the future husband brought the dowry to the family of the future wife. There were multiple suitcases filled full of things. There was pagne (fabric), clothing, shoes, purses, buckets, lotions, makeup, etc. I can only imagine how expensive it was for the future husband to buy all of these things. I’ve heard from my friends it is expensive to get married here, now I understand what they mean. The future husband is older, I think around 30 years old, and finally has enough money to get married. The girl, not woman, is about 15 years old (I asked multiple people to make sure I heard right) and will be married shortly, probably having kids within a couple years. I cringe at this information and try to control my facial expressions. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Is this normal? Yes. Does the girl want this? Yes. Is the family happy for them? Yes. I ask question after question to try and understand. This culture is so drastically different than what I’m used to. I think back to walking to the market with a male acquaintance when he said, “there’s my woman” to a young girl selling things from the tray on her head. I laughed and said “she is too young for you” without even thinking. Luckily, people give me a break since my French is terrible and maybe he either didn’t understand me or maybe he thought I didn’t understand. Either way, I guess I need to reserve some comments for myself when I get home to my journal. Now I know why people have asked me time after time, “do you have a husband and kids?” They are surprised at my “no”, although there’s more of a back-story to that “no” that may surprise them even more. I think back to when I first arrived at post and got this question every day. They were probably just as surprised or appalled at my answer as I was when I found out the age of the soon-to-be bride. I have to keep in mind this is life here. Just like we do things back home without thinking, sometimes without an apparent reason, they do things here out of tradition and because it’s life here in Cameroon and has been for years. I tried explaining, calmly, to my guy friend about how it’s not good for a 12 year old to have a child and how hard it is on her body. We talked for hours while I sewed a pillowcase and boiled eggs. Of course, I forgot I was hard boiling eggs and burned them, nearly starting a fire. There’s another good Maureen cooking story. Who knew you could screw up hard-boiled eggs?! We asked each other question after question, trying to explain why we believe what we believe. Sometimes having to tell the other to listen until I finish. Do they give me respect because I’m American, because I’m white, because I’m an outsider, or because I’m a visitor in their eyes? It certainly is not because I’m a woman. I shouldn’t say they definitely don’t respect me because I’m a woman. I’ve seen men give respect to the older women who have had children and who have been to Mecca. They are called “Hadja” and are given the utmost respect. But even so, women are half as important as men and I can only imagine what they think of me as a young girl here in Africa without kids and a husband, who can’t speak their language and lives alone. I can’t say I’m as upset as I would be if I had this conversation in the US with a guy friend back home. I’m not sure exactly why that is, maybe because this is what he knows for life. This is how he was raised. This is life here in Mayo-Darlé, in the conservative, mostly Muslim, area of Cameroon. I don’t think I’ll be able to tackle that belief in two years, although the Bjerke woman in me wants to fight hard against that thinking. I need to realize there is only so much one can do for a town, especially considering I’ve been here two months and done nothing of worth yet. I hope that changes, but I sure feel a bit defeated after that cultural exchange. On a happier note, I’ve discovered Bakooru (not sure of spelling but that’s what is sounds like). They are little sticks of fried peanut butter. Yeah, like heaven in a rolled up stick of fat. I love it. My guy friends make fun of me because I can never remember the name but I always want to buy it. I hope this blog entry doesn’t sound too culturally insensitive. Hopefully you can just take it with a grain of salt and realize I am just here and want to share my experiences and today was a big day of culture shock for me. I knew these facts when I was coming here, it is just different when you are living in the culture and listening to this conversation in your own house with the people you spend every day with. Another happy note for the day. There is a guy I met my first week here in the market. He sells beans and beignets, basically beans and doughnuts. (I know it sounds bizarre but it is actually delicious.) I haven’t seen him lately and saw him today for the first time in a while. The first time I met him, I wasn’t sure if he was going to be a creeper or not, so I tried not to be too friendly. I decided I don’t think he is creepy, but he does love Americans, foreigners, etc. and talking about the cultural differences. He was praising the culture of America and I was careful to say I don’t think ours is the best, it’s just different. Although, he did bring up some of the pluses of being American. Things we take for granted every day and maybe don’t think about often: freedom, equality, and the ability to become something from nothing if you work hard enough. Anyways, I was enjoying the brief greeting and told him I’d be back another day for beans and beignets. While I was leaving he told me, “thank you for sacrificing for me, for us, here in Cameroon.” I wanted to hug him. There hasn’t been anyone who has said this to me here. I don’t expect this type of attitude or even think I deserve this type of statement, but when he said it I felt so welcome and so appreciated. I haven’t done squat here for work and I hope that changes and I hope I can do something worthwhile in my two years here. It’s nice to know some people understand it’s difficult to leave your home, your loved ones and the comfort of your spoiled life in America to come to Africa and learn a new language, new culture, new way of life, and make new friends. I don’t know if there’s anything better than getting a comment like this. It was like he knew I had a morning of culture shock and needed a little boost.