the view from my window

Someone wrote and asked me what it looked like out here, what it smelled like, what it sounded like.  All hard things to describe with only black words on a white screen but I will make an attempt.  The soil here is a deep, iron-red and the roads are all earth roads.  The mission itself is covered in grass that gets mowed and all the houses have flower beds and pretty borders thanks to the work of Roy and his green thumb.  When I look out the window I see green everywhere, the remnants of the forest that was once here before people took over this place.  Immediately around the mission is an area called the carre-foure, which is divided up into cartiers or neighbourhoods.  This is still considered Gamboula but we are about 3 kilometres from 'downtown'.  There are huge mango and avocado trees in peoples' yards and maybe some thorn bushes, but that is all for greenery--the goats have eaten everything else.  Behind the houses a way are gardens and remnants of forest, the earth rising and falling slightly, just enough so that you can't see too far away at one look.  The river is about 2 kilometres from here and at some points on the mission you can look down at the river valley which is just dense with green.  Vines are prolific here so even the tree trunks are green.

The roads here are terrible, even by foot as they are often split in two, with large chasms running the length or width of them made by the heavy rains during the wet season.  Bridges are rickety and sometimes you take your chances.  The government is not at all concerned with fixing our roads so sometimes the logging companies come and fix the roads themselves if it serves their own purposes.  Our road into town isn't used by the logging company so it will remain bad for a while yet, or until some government official has to use the hospital but can't get here by car because of the road.  Motorbikes don't have a problem unless it has rained heavily, in which case they risk the chance of slipping off the road into a large pothole.  When it rains the roads feel as slick as ice.

There are a few stalls right outside the hospital gates where you can buy dried fish, vegetables, various powders, sugar and oil.  I don't recommend the meat!  The houses are mostly built out of un-fired mud brick that eventually wash away with the rain and thatched roofs.  A few houses are made from scrap wood, some with cement block and some with sticks and leaves.  When you get closer to town the houses are pretty much the same. Many people take woven mats called saragani and put this around their yards in town as a privacy fence, especially the Fulani people.  Town has a few shops which are essentially wooden shacks with a few shelves that the basics are displayed on.  There are a few stalls where you can buy meat kebobs, fresh off the barbecue (oil drum).  There is a central market place where you can buy meat and produce and there are a few shops selling toiletries, flip-flops and fabric for bringing to the tailor to have clothes made. Every town has a round-a-bout that you must go around.  One road leads north, one leads east to Berberati and one leads west to Cameroon.  If you go to Cameroon and you had your eyes closed the whole way you would know you were there by the feel of the roads.  Cameroon actually fixes their roads so they are much better for driving.

It sounds like a busy neighbourhood.  We are surrounded by houses and there is the constant laughter and chatter of children-from early in the morning to late at night.  You can also here a lot of birds and bugs doing what they do.  At night and in the morning you hear wood being chopped with machetes and you can smell the cooking fires by the dozen around you.  Some of the people with jobs here have managed to save enough to buy TV's, VCD players and generators and they set up little movie houses in their homes, charging 20 cents a movie.  At least they are showing initiative.  There are no banks, no electricity (except at the mission itself), no telephones and very few cars.  There are a lot of motorcycle taxis and a few grinders for grinding dried cassava into flour (they sound just like lawnmowers starting up).  There are prayer services every morning and the church bell is rung right about the same time as our alarm clock--handy in case our battery ever dies.  Of course there is always the sound of chickens and roosters and goats to remind you aren't in the big city.

It smells just like the tropics here, a little musty, a little rotten and a little sweet, all mixed together.  Kind of like southern Florida.

Tomorrow and Thursday we will accompany Roy and Constant on a trip up North to deliver some 1500 fruit trees to coops that were started last year.  Each coop member will receive 25 fruit trees to plant in their gardens.  It will be exciting to see this take place, to learn about peoples perceptions about fruit trees and to see the process in action.  This also means we will have a lot of work to do in the nursery to make up for all these trees that are going out.  In total this week we will have sent out 3500 fruit trees. Incredible really.  Even if only half survive, that is a big food potential.

If there is anything you want to know, please drop us a line and we would be happy to answer you as soon as we can.
Angela bossbugs@yahoo.ca