Pics

Merry Christmas to all.

Its been a long time coming but I'm finally putting up a few pictures of whats happening here in Cameroon.

This is Daniel, one of the many farmers that we're working with here, picking ripe red cherries from his field.

Guy, our washing station chief, sorts out bad beans from a table of drying coffee.

Guy again, with a neighborhood kid we call Bobo, who likes to come by after school and see what we're up to. Again, they're going through the drying coffee, hand-picking the bad beans.

This is the hand-depulping machine we're using to remove the beans from the cherries. It sits atop a tree stump, and beside it sits a basket of ripe coffee cherries waiting to be depulped.


We're still harvesting cherries and will be through the month of January so the work continues....

Crawl, Crawl … now Sprint

This is my first trip to the internet in almost a month, and I assure you not by choice.

My last post laid out a plan of action for the coffee project – once assurances of coffee purchase and materials for the washing station came from project partner Schluter Coffee, we’d start buying and processing coffee in early November. It looked great on paper, and I was ready to go. Unfortunately things rarely go as planned.

I’ll get into details very soon, but for now I’ll just say that there was a great deal of uncertainty from the end of October through the first two weeks of November concerning whether or not the materials and purchasing were going to happen. That meant that I had to move very cautiously for those three weeks and maintain balance on an exceedingly thin tightrope.

In the end it all worked out. The station is up and running. We’re buying cherries everyday and processing. It’s exhausting. I’m working pretty much 7 days a week and 9 – 10 hour days are the norm, but it feels great to be doing it. The harvest (and the heavy workload) will go on until about a week before Christmas - about another three weeks.

I’ll have a more detailed description of what’s go on in the next few days and I’ll finally be posting pictures. So check back soon.

Harvest Coming

I've neglected the blog for a few weeks, and while I do feel awful about that, it's not for nothing. Harvest is almost here for the farmers of the Koung-Khi Division and we've got so much to do.

At lower elevations and in hotter, unshaded fields, coffee cherries are already glowing red; but in the cool, shady mountain fields of Batoufam and Bandrefam, we've got another week or so to go. In fact, the true heart of the harvest won't come until mid to late November, but those few impatient trees are turning quickly.

This is an incredibly important time for the project, as this harvest and the coffee that results will be our tester in the specialty coffee market, hopefully sparking the interest of the industry.

So I'm posting a full project update to let you know what we've been up to and how we go forward from here:

I. OVERVIEW

From the outset, the ultimate goal of this project has been to make coffee farming once again a fair, profitable and sustainable agricultural practice for the people of Cameroon. We’re achieving this by:

• Improving on-farm growing (specifically organic) and harvesting practices through farmer extension
• Improving coffee processing by assisting in the acquisition of loans for the purchase of washing stations to depulp, sort and wash coffee to specialty coffee sector specifications
• Ensuring consistency by training coffee cuppers (taste testers) for quality control and evaluation and by improving packaging and transportation practices, from field to processing center and from processing center to port
• Opening up access to the U.S. specialty coffee market by engaging U.S. roasters, importers and green coffee buyers in the project
• Teaching basic life skills like health and nutrition, women’s empowerment, decision making, planning and budgeting to promote a more holistic improvement in quality of life

In conjunction with the farmers, we concluded that the first step in achieving our goal is increasing quality and consistency first through improved processing and second by maintaining a fully localized product (i.e. all coffee comes from the same geographic region - maintaining a consistent taste - and is processed locally, ensuring the freshest, highest quality). With quality and consistency up, we’ll release the coffee into the specialty coffee market and look for a positive reception and a fair price that renders the practice profitable.

We arrived at this first step by reasoning that if the possibility of a fair price can’t be assured, there’s no reason to continue growing coffee. As in all activities, if producing coffee can’t be profitable there’s no reason to do it, and the farmers should look for alternative crops that will make money.

To that end, we’ve held discussions and seminars on the supply chain (where the coffee goes from the time it leaves their hands), the fair trade and specialty coffee market, the importance of local production and traceability, the effect of improved processing on quality and consistency, the importance of quality in finding a better price, and, most importantly, the techniques required for improved processing.

It’s been a struggle at times, and we’ve had to revisit subjects often (many of these farmers, after all, have been farming one way for decades, and getting them to understand the change, let alone adopt it, isn’t a simple process). But the message is getting through. We meet as a group at least once a week and on a smaller group or individual basis throughout the week.

With harvest starting in the next few weeks and lasting through mid December, our immediate focus now turns to implementing the lessons we’ve learned on the subjects of harvest and improved processing. We’ll work to produce that consistent, high quality coffee we’ve been talking about, then look for the payoff.

Once the harvest ends, and assuming things go reasonably well and we see an increase in prices, we’ll turn our focus to organic farming practices and learn to fertilize and protect the coffee fields without expensive fertilizers and harmful chemical products.

II. QUALITY AND CONSISTENCY

The question is how to implement the improved processing techniques we’ve learned over the past few months. There were two options:

1) Building on the experiences of project collaborator Schluter Coffee in The Congo, each farmer processes his/her own coffee individually, following a previously decided upon method. The farmers share depulping machines, then each ferments and washes his/her coffee individually using plastic buckets and dries using drying racks. Each farmer’s coffee is then weighed, and it’s all regrouped for packaging and sale.

2) The farmers’ coffee is all processed together. Each farmer’s coffee is weighed just after picking, while still in the cherry. Then it’s put together, depulped, fermented and washed together, using large plastic barrels, and dried on drying racks.

We debated the pros and cons of both options. The first allows each individual farmer complete control over his/her coffee, and makes logistics easier as each farmer will be responsible for his/her coffee. But it leaves a great deal of room for inconsistencies in the coffee as a direct result of small variations in the processing. Its one thing to teach 40 farmers a process but an entirely different thing to have them each follow those steps exactly. This option will pose a dangerous risk to our final product.

By treating all the coffee together, the second option assures a consistent product, and, assuming we process correctly, an extremely high quality. The biggest con is that it will be more work logistically to get all the coffee together at the end of each day of harvest. Also, the farmers aren’t as intimately involved in the processing.

In the end we decided that our highest priority was producing the best coffee possible, and thus we chose the second option. Being our first foray into the specialty coffee world, this season’s coffee needs to impress, and to that end we must ensure a successful processing of the coffee. It merits the extra work, and anyone wishing to observe and/or participate in the processing is welcome to do so.

Schluter Coffee is offering the temporary use of the necessary materials for the processing:

-Large plastic barrels

-Depulping machine

-Waterpump

-Drying racks

We should be setting up the processing center (washing station) next week. We’ll set it up in a secure location – at the house of a farmer and project collaborator – to ensure it will be well protected.

III. HARVEST, PROCESSING AND SALE

As soon as the first cherries start to ripen, we’ll get together a sample quantity (3 – 4 kilograms), process it and Schluter will send it to their offices for a cupping (i.e. quality assessment). That quality assessment will give us a better idea of what we’re working with and will help us find buyers and negotiate prices.

At the same time, the farmers will create a harvest schedule. They’ll tell us which days of the week they’ll be harvesting and we’ll organize our work around that. We’ll arrange a designated pick-up time and place for those days and will collect the coffee accordingly. The processing has to start the same day the cherry is picked, so we’ll operate the washing station on those harvest days. Each farmer’s coffee will first be weighed and those figures will be recorded by both us and the farmer. We’ll each have a record. Then the coffee will go into the depulper, followed by the fermenting, washing and drying stages of the processing. Once dried, the coffee will be safely stored until the harvest is complete.

Schluter will initially pay a flat rate per kilo of coffee (just picked, still in the cherry). Then after export and sale, they’ll pay a second per kilo rate based on the amount for which they sold the coffee. There’s a specialty coffee distributor called Café Imports in St. Paul, MN who’s interested in the coffee. If after the cupping of the sample we can get a price guarantee from them, we can tell the farmers immediately how much they’ll be receiving. If we can’t get a guarantee, we’ll have to wait until the actual sale to know how much the farmers will receive.

IV. AFTER THE HARVEST

Once the harvest is over and we’re waiting on the sale, we’ll start working on the next step of the process: organic farming practices. We’ll have trainings, both classroom and field, on organic fertilizers, nitrogen-fixing plants, composting, and natural pesticides and fungicides. We’ll also start working on good business practices: simple book-keeping, budgeting, long-term planning, etc. And we’ll start looking for funding to build a permanent modern washing station to maintain their increased autonomy and income for the long-term.

The Old and the New

Isn't it always the case? This dichotomy, at once age old and eternally new, presents itself in nearly everything, and the coffee farming of Cameroon is no exception.

As of my last post, I was getting the coffee farmers of Batoufam together for a general meeting, to gather information on them and their annual production, and to discuss both the project itself and their expectations/hopes/apprehensions of it. I had my own apprehensions and my gut didn't fail me. In the end it was an enormous success, but their were certainly bumps along the way.

The meeting was very well attended. We had over 30 coffee farmers present, mostly men - though there were some women present - and representing a wide spectrum of age groups - from early 20's right on up to late 60's early 70's. Grandparents to grandchildren; it was a multi-generational affair.

And from the very beginning there was conflict. We'd previously decided to hold the meeting in an available classroom at the local elementary school, and as soon as the hour arrived (I should note here that the decided upon hour almost never holds true. Cameroonians themselves call it "l'heure Africaine" - an accurate translation would read "African time." Essentially, it means that you should add anywhere between one and three hours to any scheduled time. Things come up, people forget, nothing is easy. Its an exercise in patience and a lesson I learned quite well in my time here with Peace Corps.) the younger farmers started heading out towards the school, but the older ones stayed put. I encouraged them to head that way, and they kindly informed me that it was too hot and too far and that we might as well just have the meeting right there in town center. They'd find a quiet spot in the shade and we could just meet outside. The younger farmers objected. They argued that it wouldn't be clean and that the passing cars, motorcycles, children, goats, chickens, etc., etc. would be too distracting. But the old guard staunchly held its ground, citing their obvious age and with it their superior wisdom and experience, and we eventually convinced the young to accept the revision. Obstacle one overcome. And we breathed a sigh of relief.

The meeting started with a welcome and an introduction. Once again I wowed the attendees with greetings and exclamations in patois. "Good day and welcome. Thank you for coming." "Watso-u. Puahuambapoua e maupfimba." I encourage you to try pronouncing this. I tried to write it as phonetically as possible. If you master this, you'll be able to greet people in a truly esoteric language, spoken by a maximum of 25,000 people in the mountains of western-central Africa. Congratulations! Now come visit and put your new knowledge to use.

We then moved on to the project, the reason we'd gathered that day. I started by giving them my expectations for the meeting and a general introduction to the project. Then I asked for their expectations of the project. I asked what were the most serious concerns for a coffee farmer in Batoufam and how did they think we could address them.

The responses took us right back to the old and the new. The older farmers were most concerned with current prices and buying practices, citing dismal, unbearably low prices and underhanded buying practices. The younger farmers were most concerned with regenerating old plantations and creating new ones. Their thinking was consumed entirely with increasing the coffee production for the future, while the older farmers were fixed on improving the viability of coffee farming today. There were numerous exchanges, heated at times (almost exclusively in patois, with a translator giving me the play by play). Finally a middle-aged farmer, probably in his 40's or 50's, stood and attempted the big picture. He looked to the younger farmers and said, "I understand that you want to increase your yields in the future, but if the price you receive is so low that it doesn't merit the work, then whats the point. You're simply increasing your misery. More work for more production, if you're still operating at a loss, means more loss. Why don't we try first to get better prices, then if we reestablish coffee farming as a profitable practice, we'll work on increasing production." He got the big picture.

And with that realization, we had middle ground, we had an accord, and we could start a plan of action.

The immediate question became, "How do we get higher prices?" I decided to use an example, a relatable everyday commodity sold in the local market: avocados. Take two avocados of the exact same size in the exact same market, I proposed. What would make one higher priced than the other? They responded that it would be based on the quality. So translate that to coffee and you realize that to get better prices you need better quality.

The next question: "How do we produce a better quality coffee?" This is a much more involved question and one that we would cover more completely in the following meeting. But the fact that we arrived at this question together meant that the meeting had been a success. So we scheduled the next meeting for eight days later (keeping the meetings on their traditional day of rest) and closed for the day. Spirits were high, interests were up and hope was building. The old and the new together on top of the hill.

Coffee, Mud and Patois

Local indigenous languages, also called Patois, are one of the most defining characteristics of life in Cameroon. The reality they define is at once fascinating and frustrating, and stretches the traditional idea of communication and language to its limits. This might sound a little dramatic, and maybe it is, but this is most definitely not your typical foreign language experience. Most academics agree that the highlands of Cameroon and Nigeria are the birthplace of the Bantu language group, a language group that stretches all over sub-Saharan Africa. One of their most telling pieces of evidence is the current language situation. Cameroon's West and Northwest Provinces alone are home to close to one hundred different languages. That many different languages in an area maybe the size of Delaware.

Rich volcanic soils led to successful agriculture, which led to civilization and a language was born. At a time when 20 km distance between two places was true isolation, the migration of people, the exploration and inhabitation of new lands, the creation of new villages, new Kingdoms, led to variations on the original language, variations that existed in relative isolation and eventually became distinct. And the end result is a region where one language is spoken in a circle with little more than a 15 - 20 kilometer radius. During my years in Peace Corps, the local language, called Ndat Ndat, was spoken in 4 neighboring villages, and each village still had slight variations on that original, itself a variation of another, and so on and so on. My current situation is no different. Certain patois have enough similarities that communication is still possible between the two, but important parts of the message are inevitably lost. Its comparable to a Spanish-speaker and a Portuguese-speaker trying to have a conversation. They'll get the greater movements but subtleties fall flat.

So for a foreigner, learning patois can be frustrating. The tonal nature of all Bantu languages makes them quite difficult, but not impossible, to grasp. Most people learn enough of their village's language for day to day life. How are you, good day, I'm going somewhere, I've been somewhere, I need something, How much does it cost, etc. But once you've spent so much time and energy learning the language, its useful in only a very limited area.

That being said, you've got to have some patois if you're working in rural zones. The single easiest way to gain people's respect and trust is to speak to them in their language. The fact that you've taken the time to learn even a few words wins huge points and gives everyone, especially the elderly, endless entertainment. And a few gifted and incredibly motivated foreigners finish their time here with an impressively functional grasp of the language.

Meetings in rural zones are almost always in patois, and last week, as I canvased the village of Batoufam to organize a larger meeting of coffee growers, it was no different. To reach an entire village population, especially one as disparate as Batoufam, the only sane thing to do is show up to previously organized neighborhood meetings, usually held once every week or two, and profit from their already existing organization. And that, with much help from my colleague Guy, is what I did. Sunday afternoon was the day for the meetings, where neighborhood issues of any kind are discussed. With Guy as my guide, we spent about four hours walking around to different gatherings and announcing the upcoming coffee meeting.

And, without fail, it poured rain. I was soaked after an hour, my pants covered in mud after two. The people, who've been living with this seasonal rain their entire lives, understood my less than presentable appearance and were nice enough to offer me drinks and food and laugh hysterically at my pitiful patois. And the reaction to the coffee meeting was overwhelming. At each and every meeting, after I spoke in French and Guy followed up in Patois, someone asked for a few minutes, stood and thanked me for coming to think of the coffee growers.

Its obvious that for far too long they've been neglected, the only times attention shown being with the intention of exploitation. At each meeting, I was recounted almost exactly the same list of complaints, and at each meeting, I was given the same assurance that they still love growing coffee and that they want nothing more than to again succeed in that endeavor. Their continued devotion and interest in coffee, after so many disappointments, is surely proof of a motivated and invested community. Its unbelievably encouraging for me.

So the meeting is Thursday at noon. Thursday in Batoufam is the traditional day of rest, when work in the farm is forbidden, so its a perfect day for meethings (this needs further explanation: their traditional week is 8 days long, so next week the day of rest will be Friday, then Saturday, etc. etc.). At the meeting, I'll be getting a list of all the farmers, their neighborhoods and their current coffee production and I'll give an introductory presentation on fairtrade, organic farming practices and modern coffee washing techniques. There will be time for question and answer and we'll set a date for the next meeting. Thats progress.

Drenched

Finding myself more than one month into my work here in Cameroon and this being only my second blog post, I’ll first apologize for the inattention I’ve shown in updating my efforts and progress. There’s much to tell, and with apologies out of the way I’ll get right to it.

The months of July and August are without doubt the heart of the rainy season here. There are stretches of days – they seem at times unrelenting – that open and close with the sweet, soothing and always rhythmic beat of rain on a tin roof. The lighter rains play softly, and if you’re willing they’ll put you right to sleep. The harder ones pound roofs in a deafening rage and feel more like an assault than a weather pattern. Helpless and trapped, the only thing to do is wait. It’s a sound that becomes as much a part of life during these months as the ritual morning cup of coffee. Those rare dry days of repose become anomalies, completely unexpected and entirely out of place. Oh right, the coffee.

In a farmer’s life, or anyone working with farmers, these rains are a blessing and a curse – fundamentally essential for crops to grow but incredibly inconvenient for the physical work itself. Throw the work week out the window. Your work hours during these months are dictated entirely by the weather. Some days its deciding when the rain is light enough to work anyway and others its feeling brave enough to just get drenched. And the mud, oh the mud.

And so working within the shockingly unsympathetic framework of the rains, I spent my first month getting settled, getting to know my new community, and doing some serious research/planning/networking for the coffee project. The rest of the time I’ve simply spent drying off.

I’m living in the West Province of Cameroon, in the small mountain town of Baham, about 20 minutes southwest of the provincial capital Bafoussam. Hard population statistics aren’t easy to come by – estimates run anywhere between 20,000 and 35,000, but it feels much smaller. The paved road from Bafoussam to the port city of Douala runs through the center and lends some semblance of development, leading locals to call it a small town as opposed to a big village. My house is about a kilometer from the pavement, in a densely populated neighborhood on a rough dirt road. My neighbors are wonderful people, quick with a warm greeting and always interested in my work and well-being. The current population of Cameroon is heavy on children, and my neighborhood is no exception. There’s constant activity; kids running around, playing soccer, dancing, singing, screaming, laughing, crying, and, inevitably, spying on me to see how the American lives. I had a healthy dose of this lack of privacy as a Peace Corps volunteer – foreigners, especially those with lighter skin, become celebrities of sorts, sometimes more spectacle than breathing human being, a solo circus – but it still took some readjustment.

I had a full audience a few days ago washing the floor of my front porch. Not terribly interesting stuff, but the kids were in absolute disbelief that an American knew how to bend down and scrub a floor and still held enough consideration to wring out the rag afterwards. I imagine they’d roll over and die if they ever saw a Frenchman washing windows. All of this is to say that being a celebrity is not so great a thing. The paparazzi should really find new work.

My own work, however, has been very interesting. I’ve divided my time thus far between visiting coffee institutions and farmers/farming groups I already knew and searching for potential new ones with whom to work.

I’ve had several visits with the farming group in Batoufam (one of the villages of my Peace Corps days), the group whose coffee I brought back with me to be roasted and evaluated in America. They’re excited to further their organic fertilization techniques and to start working on fair trade certification. I’ll start a series of trainings next week.

I’ve met with several other farming groups/individuals already working with a small Swiss coffee company in the area. The company, Schluter, is a family business that’s been operating all over the African continent for years, and working closely with Cameroonian farmers and cooperatives for the past several years. They too see great potential in the coffee of the Cameroonian highlands and share my goal of improving the quality of the coffee and, as a result, the pay and lives of the farmers.

With the future of high quality coffee depending so heavily on the ability to keep things local, Schluter is working with several farming groups in the region to construct and operate small-scale washing stations, where the coffee grown in the area can be processed locally and professionally, by and for the local farmers. They’ve already built two stations and are helping to operate a third already in place. They want to build more, and hopefully we’ll be able to work together to make that happen. I’ll be working with those groups on organic conversion and applying for fair trade certification.

That small-scale local processing is exactly what’s needed to ensure the traceability of the coffee – the ability to tell the buyer and ultimately the consumer exactly where the coffee is coming from, who’s growing it and what their lives are like. It’s the combination of that traceability and a consistently quality coffee that will secure these farmers better prices and a brighter future.

The current situation in the region involves larger buyers – be they cooperatives or independent buyers – buying coffees from all over and mixing them together, regardless of factors like village, elevation, soil type, farming practices, etc (factors that affect both taste and quality). This not only ruins any chance at traceability, but also throws quality coffees in with mediocre ones, rendering the end product simply average. Staying local will solve those problems and at the same time empower the farmers to be in control of their own affairs.

By far the most interesting contact I’ve made through Schluter is an individual plantation owner, a truly magnanimous man who’s taken on the task of preserving and furthering the tradition of coffee in Cameroon. His name is Dr. Adamou Ndam Njoya. Along with his wife, Mrs. Patricia Ndam Njoya, he strives to improve the quality and preserve the culture of coffee in Cameroon.

His 250 hectare plantation (100 hectares of which are coffee) is located just outside the West Province town of Foumbot, in the small mountain village of Koutie. The farm, which employs 32 full-time employees and hires many more local villagers for the harvesting and processing season, includes shaded coffee, undisturbed forest and more traditional crops like corn, beans and various tubors. It’s blessed with incredibly fertile volcanic soils and an entirely self-sufficient washing station/processing center. The washing station uses a year round gravity-fed water system to sort and wash the coffee and to power a small hydro-electric generator for the small machinery. Its an old but beautifully functioning system, and it produces a very high quality coffee. With the aid of Schluter, the Ndam Njoyas are currently selling to Starbucks; they’re the only farm in Cameroon doing so.

They have great aspirations for their farm and for the coffee of Cameroon. They see their farm becoming a Coffee Center of sorts: a training center for other coffee farmers to improve their practices, an ecotourism destination and a nature reserve. They’re hoping to secure funding to establish a coffee museum in the capital city of Yaounde and to make a documentary on the culture of coffee in Cameroon.

While there’s enough work for a lifetime on this farm alone, as a ground coordinator for Breaking Ground I can’t focus too much energy on an individual’s farm. As a side project, I’ll work with the Ndam Njoyas on organic conversion and will help them look for grants/funding for the development of the Coffee Center.

Also, being that they already have a perfectly traceable, high quality product, I’ll work with them to obtain fair trade certification and to find smaller buyers that will offer a better price for their coffee. Their coffee should be highlighted and appreciated on its own and could serve as a great example of what Cameroonian coffee can be.

On a non-work related side note (but wonderful for a coffee lover like myself) the Ndam Njoyas gave me several kilos of green coffee left over from last year’s harvest. I’m now roasting and brewing my own coffee in the morning and its absolutely delicious. It’s bright, a little sweet and has really nice citrus notes (this from my untrained palette). Its about as fresh as it gets.

Through my own network and the networks of friends and colleagues, I’ve also been seeking out other coffee farming groups in the region, groups with good organization and solid coffee production. Working with the Cameroonian NGO RIDEV (Research Institute for Development), I’ve met with several farming groups in the area surrounding Baham. RIDEV is already working with these groups to improve their organization and efficiency and I’m hoping to find a few interested in organic conversion and fair trade certification.

So in brief, that’s whats happening on the coffee project. Plans are being made, trainings are being scheduled things are taking shape. There will be much much more to come.

Outside of the coffee project, I’m working on plans for an environmental club at the local high school, in collaboration with a Peace Corps volunteer. We’ll get going when the school year starts in mid September. Our specific activities will depend on what the students want to do, but I’m thinking we’ll plant trees, possibly a garden, start composting, talk climate-change, etc, etc.

I’ve also been to Dschang several times to follow the progress of the bridge project Breaking Ground is helping to fund. Work continues despite rain and high water levels in the river. There are pictures (which should be posted shortly) of workers chest deep in the river getting ready to pour cement over the rebar for the feet of the bridge. The efforts and support of the community are truly other-worldly. They’re an inspiration.

That’s all for now.

Is this Cameroon?

I arrived Sunday to a cool, calm and dry Douala International Airport. Those of you unfamiliar with Cameroon should know that these were entirely unexpected circumstances. Generally speaking, when you think Douala, you think oppressive heat, maddening crowds, and drenched clothes (if it’s not rain, it’s sweat …. yeah). It’s a port town, and we all know what port towns are like. Now take that image, colorful as it already may be, and place it in the Gulf of Guinea, in the armpit of the African continent, a short drive from the equator. Now ask yourself if cool, calm and dry fit that picture. A little out of place, right? I thought so too.

But it was so and such chance put me in an unbelievable mood. A cool ocean breeze blew through the walkway from the runway to the airport. The airport itself was a little crowded – two flights came in at about the same time: my Swiss Air flight and an Air France flight – but I had no problem getting through the passport/visa line and retrieving my checked bag. Astonished again. Then the lady at customs: “Do you have anything to declare?” she asked, smiling all the time. “Nothing at all,” I said and she nodded and waved me through. I probably should’ve declared a thing or two in that bag, but doing so would’ve meant tampering with an incredibly tenuous packing job and I thought it wise to just move along.

I’m living and working in the West Province of Cameroon, in the volcanic highlands of the country, where the air is almost always cool, the views incredible and the food often unbearably spicy. This is the same region I lived and worked in for more than two years with Peace Corps. I know this region well. It feels like home. Most trips down the mountain leave me hot, uncomfortable and desperate to get to higher ground, but this latest arrival in Douala was, simply put, not too bad – an omen that augurs great things, I think, for this trip and the work ahead.

Much more to come......

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