Alissa’s World from a different perspective

A guest blog from her mother

9 months into her Peace Corps adventure, I have had the privilege of sharing a few weeks with Alissa in her new environment. I have marveled at her adaptation – speaking Pidgin like a native, creating a calm living space despite her frequent house guests consisting of rats, bats, lizards, frogs, spiders, crickets and all the neighborhood kids.

A 7AM visit by a neighbor that just caught and decapitated a python

Her house is a favorite hangout for all the kids. The National Geographics are a big hit.

One of her favorite friends

Upon entering the region of Fonfuka, Alissa’s community high in the mountains of Northwest Cameroon, I noticed small children with hugely swollen bellies. If malnutrition is not a problem here, what is that? Worms, explained Alissa. Despite an intensive government program to de-worm children free of charge, lack of organization by the health clinics means that it is still a rampant problem. Immediately I saw the frustration that she confronts in trying to improve the efficiency of the vaccination program.

On our first day in the village, we went to the health clinic at 8AM, eager to get started. There was a vaccination clinic scheduled for 10AM in another village, a 2-hour trek away. Although there were no patients and absolutely no work being done, all 3 colleagues refused to accompany her, each with a different excuse. She stressed again and again that they could not disappoint these people. To build the trust of their community they had to respect their commitments. After hours of patient badgering, she and her colleague finally got on their way with the sun at its hottest. Better late than never.

That particular village is quite interesting. It is a compound of 300 people – Muslim cow herders of the Mbororo ethnic group – and is comprised of one single family! Built high on the top of a mountain, there are only about 10 men in the whole place who sit on velvet pillows in the shade of a mango tree in the center of the courtyard.

Three Ako Muslim women

The next day was a vaccination clinic in Alissa’s home village. She weighs the babies, prepares the vaccines and patient files, and gives a lecture in Pidgin on topics such as family planning, water and sanitation, or breast feeding.

Weighing babies

Parents waiting for Alissa's lecture to begin

But this day was special: a woman was in labor with twins. Here a pregnant woman has one foot in the grave. Infant and maternal death is common, especially in isolated villages. In this case, the nomadic Fulani woman chose to live the last 3 weeks of her pregnancy at the clinic. Far away from home, at least she had medical assistance when the moment arrived.

The delivery room was stiflingly hot. On the other side of the thin wall with the broken window were the sounds of crying babies and the squacking of chickens pecking at the dirt. We fanned her face using a plastic plate from Alissa’s kitchen, rubbed her back and caressed her head. She was incredibly beautiful and graceful, wearing long beaded earrings and a leather bangle on her wrist. Her bright yellow wrapped skirt also became the sheet to cover the plastic mattress.

But the most astonishing thing was that this woman NEVER made a sound! Despite the excruciating pain and 20 hours of labor there was not a drop of perspiration. Her silence and acceptance of the suffering gave the whole experience a spiritual atmosphere. Like a Madonna and a miraculous birth.

The first child was finally born – a healthy baby girl. Strangely she was never given to the mother for bonding. She was immediately swathed in layers of much-to-warm clothing and abandoned on the rusty bed on the other side of the room.

Half an hour later things turned dramatic. Suddenly there were two legs sticking out of this woman. Alissa and I looked at each other in horror as the nurse pulled with all his force to extract the baby’s shoulders. Finally a lifeless baby boy was lying on the bed. After heart compressions a feeble cry was heard. Dancing and rejoicing insued. The nurse then said “Let’s see if the pharmacy is open to get her an Ibuprofen!”

Let’s talk about the food situation. June is the end of the mango season and the beginning of the glorious pineapple season, all growing right outside her door. In this community everyone grows just enough to feed his own family. Corn, yams and beans form the foundation of the diet. The Muslims live in the hills with their cows and goats. The problem is there is practically nothing to buy in the village – just a few staples like rice, spaghetti, tomato paste, palm oil and powdered milk. Once a week there is a market day with a few more fresh products, maybe even a slaughtered cow or some fish. And everything takes an enormous effort to prepare. Even to make rice one spends about an hour picking out dead bugs and stones.

These people are incredibly generous. The first few days of my stay everyone was bringing us welcome gifts of food, including the Hausa chief who brought us a rooster. Eating fowl is a special treat but a major ordeal. Someone has to kill it, pluck it, clean out the insides, cut it up and finally cook it. That rooster which woke us up every morning became a curry that we shared with about 12 people, each getting a tiny piece to gnaw on.

One of Alissa’s projects is to teach the people how to make tofu, or “soy meat”. It’s a nutritious, inexpensive source of protein and something they can sell in the street on brochette sticks as snacks. Flavored with the traditional Cameroonian seasonings of garlic, hot pepper, ginger, and then fried, it is absolutely delicious. Together we perfected our recipe. The most moving moment came the first time that we sorted through the soybeans by candlelight. (After 6 PM, everything is by candlelight!) We took small handfuls, checking each bean for maggots, worms, and slimy webs. We realized that this was the plight of millions of women all over the world in their daily struggle to feed their families. Alissa recalled the first time she made beans after arriving in Fonfuka. She soaked them overnight and in the morning she found the water filled with dead bugs. Horrified, she threw them out behind her house. A few minutes later her neighbor passed by and asked if he could have them to plant. He proceeded to collect every single one, precious seeds with which he could feed his entire family.

A lesson not to forget.

Scenes of daily life in Fonfuka:

Washing her clothes

Grinding the seasoning for tofu

Administering first aid, sitting next to her Peace Corps Medical Kit and a book on radical black political thought.

A typical night

The Bum and Fulani peoples are separated by language, culture, and religion. Even at vaccination clinics they sit separately from one another. This photo shows that it is indeed possible for them to interact in harmony!

Africa really suits her!