Home Improvement and Witchcraft

I FINALLY MOVED!!!

After three months of waiting and quilting and bothering my postmate, I finally moved into my very own home. I put down my plastic rugs and slapped down my mattress and swept and mopped and mopped and swept!

Then, my friend, Solange, came over with her children and extended family to see if I needed any help. That's when the trouble really began. She told me the power was on, so I got really excited, because guess who has a fridge?! Posh Corps! ....but....the lights were on, but no current was passing (as we volunteers say in our weird translated from French English). None of the outlets worked. NONE OF THEM!!! I did the grown-up thing and laid on my floor and pouted and then did some more mopping and sweeping.

Jon came over later that day to help me connect my stove to my gas bottle via the too-small tube. We royally failed after more than an hour of clamping and wiggling and rolling of eyes and gnashing of teeth. My friend, Pamela,  tried to comfort me by telling me that I had the worst luck of anyone she knew, but that it would get better.

I put my sorrow and despair into a constructive project - I regrouted my whole house, because while I was cleaning paint off my floor (and getting high off the fumes), I managed to get eaten alive by microscopic tiny ants called Canadians.

I later found out the reason that I have an ant problem is because of a woman, who used to live in the neighborhood. She went into the underworld and brought back a bag of ants. Yep, the reason that I have a pest problem is sorcelry. There are a few ways to combat sorcelery in the East - be really religious, keep one particular breed of chicken or eat a cat or a dog. Apparently, you eat cat or dog as a remedy; if you are having nightmares, it's possible that someone is trying to make you their zombie, but if you had dog or cat for dinner, they can only call the cat's or dog's soul and you'll be fine.

After a night spent wishing I had the neck-feather-less chickens, I spent a day unpacking and attempting to get a hold of Major, the guy who doesn't direct the construction of my house. Then, Solange came through again and after her neighbors put my guest bed together, they came to look at my electricity. After 4 days in my house, many trips to Jon's  house to charge things and much weeping and wailing, my electricity works!

And a few days later, the only thing left to finish my bed room is to make curtains and I am a boss at making curtains. I sleep in a bed. When I remember that a fridge is for keeping food good for longer, I have food in my fridge, which is cold. I can change locks, I can put in screens (kinda), I can put together beds and screw in light bulbs. I can attach gas bottles to stoves, I can make the best banana bread ever and really delicious black-eyed peas and I can even sometimes flush my toilet.

Side note: Guess who has amoebas? One more thing to cross off my Cameroon bucket list!

The Tipping Point

The week before last, the fourth sequence finished, so I had to evaluate my students. Due to recent changes to my luck, I now only teach one level and on two days a week! I was looking forward to some downtime and more days to recover from teaching.

Everybody knows the phrase "the straw that broke the camel's back."

I had evaluated my students on Tuesday and spent all evening Tuesday and all day and all night Wednesday (and even into Thursday morning) grading my exams. It was not quite the depressing experience that it generally is, because this time there was one perfect score and more than 10 (out of 140+) students passed!

I had decided during my last sequence that I would do something to "motivate" my students. "Motivation" is top secret code (or Cameroonian slang) for bribery. In this case, the bribe was one pen each for the top 10 scoring students.

I had all 140+ students at one time, which is unusual and hasn't happened for ages (besides exam days). I got them all settled down by talking nonsense to them (English) and proceeded to announce the top grades and present them with their pens. Everyone applauded and was really happy for them...until I ran out of pens.

Then it was all DONNE-MOI MON PART!!! OU EST MON BIC?! JE N'AI PAS DE BIC, MADAME!!!! (Give me mine! Where's my pen? I don't have a pen, ma'am!)

I calmed down the riot and got everyone back to their seats and then called the heads of the classes up (Carpentry, Home Ec, Electricity, Masonry) to collect the exams for their sections.

...and it was back to the riot. OU EST MON EVALUATION?! ELLE A VOLE MON EVALUATION!!! ELLE EST EN TRAIN DE DECHIRER MON EVALUATION!!! MADAME, VOUS AVEZ ECRIT UN 8 ICI; POURQUOI J'AI UN ZERO?! (Where's my exam? She stole my exam and now she's tearing it up! Ma'am, you wrote an 8 here - why do I have a 0?)

I did the mature, adult thing and I put my arms out and said if I could touch them, they were too close. I felt weird doing it, but they really were breathing my air.

I got the students back in their desks and proceeded with a very angry lecture:

   Do you like getting zeros on your exams? Do you like having mediocre grades? If so, leave. Do you like to waste your time and mine? Leave. Do you like to waste your parents money and keep your classmates from learning? Leave, because I've had enough. Why am I here, if you learn nothing?

I had two students leave class. I did not miss them. After I let them sit in stunned and shamed silence for maybe 30 seconds, I turned around to write the correct answers to the exam on the board. I got all the way until 'second person plural,' before it happened.

The board fell on the floor and tried to take out my left foot. The students immeadiately started screaming and shouting and carrying on about how it was sorcery that made it fall. I turned around, closed my eyes and took a deep breath. It was one of those moments where you either have to laugh or to cry. Ever the pragmatist, I chose laughter, because if I cried, my students would just be worse for the rest of the year.

I left my classroom at the end of class and was happy that I had my sunglasses with me, because I had that moment, the tipping point moment, where that last thing just pushes you over the edge. Mine was having that board fall, I looked at it and thought, "This is one of those moments that would send someone home."

Luckily, I am very stubborn and a weekend in Bertoua fixed me up just right.