I'm going to admit it. I am thoroughly unfocused and lacking in ambition to continue my work. I am right on schedule it seems with most of the volunteers before me. And like them, I am certain; I thought this fate wouldn't befall me. There are many factors that have contributed to the hesitation to step outside my door in the mornings and my procrastination to complete simple tasks. Recently I visited my sister in London and what a vacation it was. I actually spent the time being a tourist and seeing the sights, eating until my belly hurt on the diverse food selections and falling in love with a multi-cultural city. I've been out before, but that was to home, to the familiar, to my sister's wedding and gift shopping. The first time wasn't really a vacation, but a brief sojourn into who I use to be. This time I felt the possibilities, saw what my life could be like after Peace Corps and I am deflated at the prospect of 8 more months. Another factor in my lack of ambition, lack of action, lack of caring is that I have returned to another failure. Yes there have been many. I have failed more times than I have succeeded and I knew at least that when I chose to come to Cameroon. Us Peace Corps Volunteers are of the kind that sees failures as necessary, as invaluable learning experiences that will make us informed global citizens ready to give our two cents on how to really make development sustainable. This new failure has maybe been the one to push me close enough to the edge, close enough make out the depressions and insanity below.
Before leaving I helped a mixed group of women plan events for the International Women's Day on the 8th of March. I tried to bring together different groups, a different village, young and old, Muslims and Christians. With the busy schedules of women, the cooking, the cleaning, the trips to the river, the pump and then more meals and an endless supply of infantile energy swarming around you at all times, its hard to get women to come and sit down for an hour meeting. I did manage to get quiet a few women's groups to come to the meeting where I laid out my plan for the 8th of March. I wanted them to work together, think of new activities they could create to get away from the usual soccer games, marches and dances. I made my suggestions, we approved the activities and then mistakenly fell into a haphazard election where I ended up as the treasurer and the typical president. I say the typical president because this women is the president of the first women's association in Mandama that has been functioning, but with a serious lack of transparency and is made up of members from wives of all the "grands" or bigwigs in my village. People have been telling me stories, enough to put me on alert, but I refuse to make judgments about people until I see evidence firsthand. The 8th of March gave me the evidence I needed. Before I said farewell to the ladies on the 6th of March I handed over my treasurer duties to the secretary and president, outlining how they were to keep track of all expenses and donations. They both nodded in agreement, with me asking several times if they understood. I left with confidence, but my impending vacation was looming too large obscuring my view of what now seems the obvious. I returned not to stories of success, but of many women pointing a finger to several events failures at the actions of the president. Gifts I had donated to competition winners were mixed up and given suspiciously to women of her group, leaving other winners hastily bought packaged cookies, money that was donated wasn't logged and expenses were not accounted for as discussed.
Even more recently Mandama was the beneficiary of over a 1000 free mosquito nets by a number of international donors. The campaign seemed well put together, although maybe lacking in the pre-education campaign part. To make a long story short about a 1/8 have been reported as sold to Nigerian traders for about the equivalent of a $1, when I know they cost a lot more than that to manufacture and transport. I find consolation in the fact that at least Nigerian's will be protected from Malaria this season. I also like that several people I talked to were visibly upset that some of their fellow villagers were selling bed nets that could have been theirs. At least some of them care.
I don't think I am becoming pessimistic. I think that I am becoming more pensive and maybe leaning towards the idea that money and things need to stop being thrown at the problems here. We need more education and information, that is all.
