Monday, December 16, 2013

One Day In Cameroon



Every day is different of course, but I just thought I would describe my day yesterday.
Sometimes I make a nice breakfast—pancakes, or coffee cake, but a lot of mornings the kids just have hard boiled eggs or Quaker Oats cereal.  This morning I had intended to make banana bread as I had over ripe banana.  I couldn’t make them yesterday because I was out of flour, but today I was out of oil.  I am amazed how fast I go through the basics like flour, sugar, baking powder, yeast, powdered milk etc.  I am still not used to cooking from scratch.  So the kids had oatmeal.

Once the kids were off, I got ready for a hot shower, but alas the water turned off sometime after breakfast. Luckily I am not a “gotta shower every day” person, but my control issues always flare up.  Really a warm bucket bath is fine, but just not as satisfying.

Tuesday is normally my day to be with the HIV group, but Pete had asked me to go to the Ruby Jubilee (40 year celebration) of the opening the St Thomas Aquinas Seminary where he teaches. Pete is so kind he rarely asks me to attend these long and not too exciting ceremonies.  But I was happy to have the day with him.

Before I left, I stopped down to let my HIV group know that I would not be there, and met two members outside (as the door was still locked).  One woman showed me a funeral program for a family member who had died. I opened it up and found dozens of pictures of this woman with her young children. I was so moved by the photos and the sadness of losing such a young woman that I just began to cry. Of course, my crying made her cry so we just stood and cried together.  I see these programs so often from people and people rarely show emotion when they show me. I think how much I have been underestimating the pain people here feel about losing loved ones. Just because it is common doesn’t make it less painful.  The other man standing there joined in with our grief sharing about his daughter who was HIV positive also, but refused to take the medication and died several years ago.  People who are not in denial are able to get tested and live quite long if treated. Too many, let pride literally kill them.

So Pete picked me up and we headed to the Seminary. I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was a Mass in the field, instead of in the Chapel as there was no room for the thousands that attended and these outdoor ceremonies are common.  But I was so mad I forgot sunscreen, sunglasses, and only had a small bottle of water.  I was so grateful that we were ushered beneath one of the few tents (we sat not far from the governor).  We may have been placed there because Pete is faculty or it may have been just because we were white. In any case I was grateful for the shade, comfortable seat, and nice breeze. 

I counted over 400 priest processing in and about 6 Bishops, one Cardinal, and a papal nuncio (a representative from the Vatican).  There were also about 200 seminarians (just for the North West region of Cameroon). I am not often impressed by all the pomp and circumstance, but in this case it was hard not to be.  The music was nice and the honoring of the School were nicely done.   


After two and a half ours we had finished communion and I was hope fully that the Mass would only be three hours (about the norm). But we still managed to go for another one and  a half hours.  After the four hour Mass, I was ready to pee behind a tree, but fortunately we found someone who took me to a real toilet and it even had paper (though I always carry my own).

We had hoped to stay for the meal and dancing, but needed to get the kids from school and I work the girls Boarding school on Tues afternoons. Fortunately Nestor made us delicious crepes with strawberry jam. Pete supervised the studying and I trekked off to Lourdes School.

I then counseled three girls dealing with friendship issues and academic stress.  One young girl that  was not much older than Jessica, was crying because her birthday is coming and she is lonely. Dear thing, of course she is lonely and homesick.  These girls are not allowed visitors or phone calls. My heart broke for her. I then went to my workshop for 11th grade girls on Character development.  I used an exercise that has worked in other settings, but I underestimated how loud 90 girls can be or how much echo there would be in the sanctuary.  I completely lost control of the group and one faculty even came to find out what was going on.  I want the girls to have fun, but I will have to be a bit more careful.

I came home to dinner made by Josh.  His Taco shells get better every week and we had all the toppings. I helped Jessica study for her French exam and then went to bed with her at 8:30 listening to the sound of my husband doing dishes.  Yes, the water had returned, but God bless him, he would have carried in water and done it for me anyway. The last sounds I heard were the low breathing of Jessica and the sound of crickets outside.  It reminded me of summers on Cape Cod.

-Joy

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