The New Rich

“It is surprising how many great men and women a small house will contain.” -Walden Henry David Thoreau

I would be lying if I said that I had lost all track of time lately or had forgotten to write. In fact, my internet access has even been more constant than before since we managed to locate a tiny portion of the house where we can manage the faintest connection. The truth is life has just begun to feel a bit routine here and so the inspiration to write, though it is here all around me all the time, has somewhat dissipated.

Life is still chill and without too many problems. I took the GRE in February in Yaounde which was way harder than I’d imagined and was quite discouraging, especially reading an entire study book in the months prior as well as cramming with a few other girls in the Volunteer house for 3 consecutive days before the test. The good news is that everyone else also found it difficult. We’ll see in just a couple of weeks whether I actually stand a chance of being accepted to my first choice graduate program or not- fingers crossed!

Since the test I have been trying to really fixate on my secondary projects in the village. We are expected to do something called PACA (Paticipatory Assessment for Community Action) to establish the needs, resources, and motivators of the community for our projects to be sustainable. Unfortunately we didn’t receive any useful training on that during Pre-Service and therefore my own research and planning of it feels a bit like Alice’s rabbit hole. On the other hand, my Girls’ Club has become quite a hit and I am now working on having a summer camp with a small group to teach AIDS prevention and things like Family Planning and Life Skills. More and more I feel that working with the younger population of the community may be more valuable than with the adults.

I have been dealing with a rather frustrating problem in my house since before going to Kribi in December. My landlord’s son installed my power when I first moved in and my “divisionary” electric meter has been in his wife’s house behind my own. At first my bills were somewhat reasonable but then he started bringing me totals of 3 times what the other volunteers pay, and that was before I even had a refrigerator. When my Program Director called him to explain our policies he simply rearranged the charges so that the total was the same but that now it was coming from my water bill rather than my electric. I refused to pay and my boss had to come and work it out with us.

In January I wound up paying him a remaining balance, still much higher than I should’ve had to, but at last we signed a contract with him stating that the electric company themselves would come and install a meter on my house and that after January 31st I would no longer pay any bills that were not from the company. I also discovered during this same meeting that I have been paying the water bill for his entire compound as well.

At the beginning of February he came again with another outrageous bill, after having refused to take my offer for the remaining balance which was actually owed. With that I talked to my Program Director and he agreed that I could move. I found a house that was absolutely BEAUTIFUL, in fact, probably too much so. We thought that the guy was going to let me rent but, in typical Cameroonian fashion, he was just saving face. Cameroonians have a highly annoying cultural tendency to say they will tell you tomorrow or they need to do something with someone before giving you a response, yet never, in the end giving you one. Their way of avoiding the potential discomfort of saying “No’ outright.

Finally the electric company came yesterday and discovered things were not correctly installed and called him a “bandit international”. Already his kid came again today to do something with the power, which I refused.

Though I admittedly spent about a week dreaming of my new life in the (probably most) impressive house in the village, without dozens of children screaming and wailing nearly every second of the day, I have come back down to Earth now. In fact, I am reading Walden at the moment and it makes me realize how much less we really need than we convince ourselves that we do. Thus the reason we are perceived as rich by most of the world. Sure, the majority of us may be “making ends meet”, living “paycheck to paycheck” or just “scraping by” each month, but in most cases it is probably because we have consumed relative to our income to the point where there is hardly any breathing room. In reality, if people lived in a less superfluous way than we are accustomed to we would probably have thousands of dollars stashed away in bank accounts for a ’rainy day’.

When I first got here there was an ongoing list of things I just had to have in my head at all times. New sofa, refrigerator, guest bed, a variety of more luxurious food items that can only be purchased in the city, including highly priced olive oil. I saw certain other volunteers’ houses and felt pangs of envy because they chanced to fall into homes that were akin really to those we are used to whereas mine has wooden doors and windows and concrete floors, no kitchen sink, and a filthy paint job.

After 7 months in my village it’s easier to differentiate the needs from the indulgences. Now my 170 CFA per month (around $300) salary does actually feel quite rich. After accumulating all the must haves like my stove, bed , a kitchen table, and buckets and bidons for water storage, I have been able to budget to easily have around 40 CFA ($80) left at the end of the month, money a whole family here could probably live off.

After months of sitting on only my wooden or plastic chairs, or, worst of all, in my bed which is essentially a piece of foam already smashed down to practically nothing allowing the body only the sensation of the 2x4s supporting it below, I acquired Christine’s love seat, sofa, and coffee table. Now I feel almost ashamed of the luxury.

Finally I realize that I don’t necessarily have to drink coffee every morning, and on my days off a warm mug of it in my hand while reading a book on the veranda is one of the most exotic and enjoyable experiences I can have. When I allow myself to steal 300 CFA (less than a dollar) out of the week’s budget for a bar of Mambo chocolate, I carefully stash it away until just the right moment in which I break off each piece one by one and let the sultry richness of it melt on my tongue. A few times a month I buy Claude and I bottles of Top soda or a box of wine with dinner and it feels like New Years Eve.

We are programmed to believe that success is always obtaining more. A newer car, a better house, nicer clothes. I think success is a lot simpler than that. Being far from home and thinking back to all the complicated drama that so often exists in the world of excess makes me wish only for the simple joy of a belly full of good, natural food, the warm company of someone you love, the familiarity of a place you’ve made yours on the planet, and peace and contentedness of the present moment. I wish that could be the new idea of luxury in our country of constantly chasing our tails; always pursuing that which is just beyond our reach.