Christmas in Cameroon

So here we our, our first Christmas in Africa.  It’s strange to think that we’ve been here almost seven months – just over a year and a half to go!  We alternate between hoping that’s enough time for our work here, and looking forward to being back in the States!  IST provided a valuable jumping off point for discussions with our host institutions in January for where our vision for our time here and theirs intersect and what the body of our time in Bamenda will consist of.
Back in early December we visited a stagemate in Njinikom just north of us, and climbed Mt. Bouyo.  The process revealed just how much dry season’s dust, which serves to also hold the car exhaust and smoke from burning trash in the valley Bamenda is set into, has taken it’s toll on Kiyomi.  The day hike left her frequently struggling to catch her breath.  Between that and Jack’s recent illness, we decided not to climb Mt. Cameroon for Christmas, though a week at the coast made marked improvement on Kiyomi’s respiration.  Instead we, and about half our training group, visited two stagemates posted in Bangangte, in the West Region.  We had Christmas music on someone’s computer, a fire in the fireplace, soft tacos and chocolate chip cookies with about twenty-five of our closest friends.  Then we spent a couple days just relaxing with books and movies before heading in Yaounde.  We had to get our last vaccination boosters during IST, but since Jack was ill, he wasn’t able to, and our nurse had advised Kiyomi to talk with our medical officer about her reaction to the air quality in Bamenda as well, to have it officially on record.
The Yaounde tranist house is something like a hostel, but without any quiet hours or adherence to the generally assumed rule of “if you didn’t buy it, don’t eat it.”  But it was mostly just our friends stopping over before catching the train back to posts in the north.  We squeezed into the top bunk in a room of six bunk beds – snug, but luckily we like each other.  We got to indulge in delivery pizza, hot (or at least warm) showers, pistachio ice cream, and shopped in an actual grocery store (Earl Grey and English Breakfast teas, and artichoke hearts came home with us).  The travel was not bad, and our French, while not conversational, is at least passable for traveling.  We both applied to be on a few committees at IST, which will meet in Yaounde from time to time, so we felt like it was good practice for getting around there if nothing else.  After two nights of drinking games and “chairssketball” (basketball played from a chair) outside our bedroom window, we were ready to head back home though.