Reader Mail
oh p.s. i was wondering since u dont take showers very often, how do u keep...how should i say...fresh? lol
N,
Well, obviously “FRESHAZIMIZ” is not my current theme song. Indeed, remaining “fresh” in the African Sahel is more art than science. And though I am not the Rembrandt of this realm, I have learned a few secrets. I shall now impart them onto you, for future reference.
2. Body Spray. Shipped from the good old
3. Face and Feet. I have found that if these parts of you are clean (especially for the women, cuz their clothing covers all other parts of their body)… that is, the visible parts… people tend to assume you clean :D
4. Clean/Pressed Clothing. My laundry boy is on point! Washing clothes in the desert is no easy task… yet… he amazes me every week… even heats up a rock and irons them… My clothes look better here than they look in the
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P asked:
What’s the most difficult part?
Figuring out unwritten cultural laws can be tricky. For instance, there has been a chicken wandering around my yard for a week… I have not had chicken in so long… But I do not know how this works. How long does the chicken have to be on my property before I can claim it as my own? I mean… I’ve been feeding it and fattening it up… and praying that it does not have avian flu… does that mean that its mine now? And if not… what happens if I eat it anyway?
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J asked:
What do they eat of birthdays? Foo foo?
J,
Yes.
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C asked:
Have you found your future husband yet?
Although many Cameroonians seem to think that Peace Corps is actually a Cameroonian matchmaking program… all I can say is: No, thank you. Although, PC Cameroon has the highest rate of volunteer marriages… I will definitely not be part of those statistics… No offense,
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L asked:
Hey, what happens if you get HIV/AIDS?
As you already know, in order to contract HIV, I’d hafta be a) Scrumping (Believe me, not happening). b) Have some other sort of exchange of fluids (i.e. blood transfusion, accidental needle prick, etc.). or c) Breast-fed (Also not happening). Now, in the case of (B), the PC medical office has a PEP (post-exposure prophylaxis). The trouble is… the treatment is only available in the
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A asked:
How did you let this happen to me? How did you let it be so long before I wrote you?!
A,
What?
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G asked:
What do you do for fun there?
G,
You know… I was just talking to Molly (one of my sock puppets) about this the other day… about the new friends I was making and hanging out with. She was making fun of me, cuz I had started talking to Joanne (one of my shadow puppets). I think Molly is just jealous (she has low self-esteem).
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Do you miss me?! I bet you have forgotten all about me!! Why don’t you update your blog more often?? When are you coming back home?!
Of course, I miss you, stewpedheads. I do not update my blog more often because I live in the bush (I do not have running water out here, yet alone a wireless connection), it takes 2-7 hours (I’m totally serious about that variable… One day it takes 3 hours… the next….5… the next 7… And its gonna take longer once the rainy season starts) to get to the nearest internet café, and half the time… I trek down there and the internet is down >:/ And you know how I roll. I’ll come home when my job is done, and not a moment sooner :] Well… unless I am MedEvaced (medically evacuated- knock on wood)
HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAYS!
Jingy!
Amrita!
You guys are so old!! :D Hope it was a good one, and that you did not do anything that I wouldn’t do :o Of course, this means that it is acceptable for you guys to go commando for days on end:]
posted by Me at 8:55 AM
5 Comments:
"My clothes look better here than they look in the US… it’s quite sad."
That's VERY sad
Then again, you did just wear the same marching band tshirt and those sneakers from 7th grade everyday....=/...So I guess anything's an improvement
Hehehehe love you
Miss you <3
Hi all of Sandra’s friends and family. I’m Casey; I’m sure Sandra’s told you nothing of me, though I am her 2nd closest postmate, enemy from stag (just kidding, right?!?), and probably the person she speaks with 3rd most often (behind Kelly and Mommy). With introductions out of the way here is my addition to Sandra’s crazy blog. My other goal of course is to make her laugh when she updates this weekend as I will not be in Ngdere then to give her the necessary dose of me (though I know who she will be seeing! hmm.. Hey better watch out since we know Sandra only likes ‘em mixed.. oops, did I say that out loud? – and I want the story about it, bitch! Or not, lie to me, as long as it’s amusing).
How I Know I Am Integrated
Let’s just preface this with the fact that I am guessing I know a little about this audience (from all those wonderful stories she tells about you) and I don’t want to do all the politically correct bullshit (Like: but my roommate freshman year in college was black, or I’ve slept with a black guy so it’s cool right?). As well as not thinking it’s necessary since Sandra makes some of the most racist comments I’ve ever heard (and we’re like, but Sandra, you are African!).
I don’t pretend to understand what the deal with black people and their hair is. Really, I don’t get it. Sandra bitches about her hair here more than a woman living in LA talks about the size of her ass. I’m sympathetic but I don’t think I’ll really ever understand. It’s like in college where I walked into a house party, I think the guy throwing it was a basketball player, and there off to the side in the living room was a chair with some black guy getting his hair cut by another; but why during a party? And there are the movies Barber Shop and Barber Shop 2. The only movie I can think of off the top of my head made by white people that referenced haircutting is The Invisible Man by the Coen brothers, where Billy Bob Thorton plays a barber, but I don’t really think those movies are on the same level. Or here in village where the first place I was forced to go was the salon (and yea, that went well: you know how a baby drops one of their toys and you pick it up but she just keeps dropping it over and over again because they’ve yet to figure out the gravity thing, well that was my hair with a pick.). It’s the place to get all the local gossip, find husband connections, and if the women working there like you you’re all good.
So now that I’ve expressed my thought that there is some serious connection with black people and their hair, this was yesterday morning for me:
My friend busts into my house waking me up when we have only a half hour before we’re supposed to leave (but it’s African time right?). Remember Wishkin trolls? Yea, her hair – that. You need to do my hair! This is it right here, the moment I thought, I am integrated; despite children screaming nassara at me, people constantly asking for money, staring, other children crying merely my at sight (white skin isn’t that ugly, right?), staring, getting asked on a daily basis if I have a sister Aboubakar So-and-So can marry for an American passport, my friends assuming I’m stupid because I’m new – despite being the only person here with a college education and one of the only not drinking an entire case of alcohol every night which obviously compromises your innate intellect, and did I mention staring? Well, needless to say the assumption that I would not only know how to do her hair but be willing to drop everything I might be doing to spend hours on her, nearly brought tears to my eyes. I know I sound sarcastic but it was a touching moment. And luckily that thing I said before about the black roommate freshman year was true, so I did remember enough to do something with her hair. We got where we were going “on time”, which meant we had to wait and I felt a little more integrated. And that’s a good thing, right.. right?
Casey, dear :D I do not even kno how to respond to your comment. Though you definitely win the prize for longest comment ever:D What is the prize, you may ask? Probably an omelette from our omelette shack. Maybe I will even do your hair as a bonus:] Though... if anyone has hair that looks like mine currently does... I would not want him/her doing my hair:D Anywho, did you tell Glen that I want to be his third wife? My mommy called your mommy; she was all, "That woman was so sweet!" And I was like, "umm... guess her daughter doesn't take after her..." Hahahahah! :D Just kidding:] Lobu! See you and the Addies next week! And I sooooo did not violate TMP:P I'm not you:]
Animal- that was a good shirt, so whatevasif >:/ And as for those sneakers... where did they go? Did Mommy hide them, like she hid my drumline jacket? Tell Kwasi I will give him $10 if he finds either. And I know you are not complaining, since you take it upon yourself to wear the rest of my wardrobe >:/ Like that skirt that you think is yours>:/ Black girl.
Haha Casey made me laugh
Ummm Sandra, tu es tres CONFUSED if you think that that shirt was fly =/ Lol it's not my fault that we have the same shirt size and you clothes happen to fall upon my body :) LOVE YOU <3
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