A Reflection on Language

(Note: This post is a nerdy reflection on language, not an exciting recitation of recent events. You have been warned.)   I love languages—not necessarily the grammar or the literature part of a language (although I enjoy those too), but the nitty-gritty essential parts that make up the language. I enjoy learning the history of a language, how new words become incorporated into a language and how olds words change overtime. For instance, did you know that “a napkin” used to be called “an apkin.” Along these lines, I could see the word “another” changing in the future to “a nother.” How often have you heard someone say, “Well, that’s a whole nother story.”But, I digress.    It’s funny how living in a different-language culture can affect people with a different mother tongue. When studying the history of the English language, one learns how various countries’ invasions changed the language of both the host country and the invading country. Many new words entered the language in this way. Similarly, the missionaries’ dwelling in a different country has impacted their language. Among the missionaries here in Cameroon, various French words have become integrated into our daily English conversations with each other. Sometimes as I sit back and observe, as one who’s newer to this sub-culture, I feel like I’ve been given a small glimpse of how languages change overtime.     From my unscientific observations, here are several words that I have noticed have entered the Cameroonian missionary’s vocabulary:   Bidon—(n) a jug that holds approximately 20 gallons of water Bosch—(n) a tarp that goes on the back of a truck (namely a Toyota Hilux truck) Deranged—(v) to disturb, to be bothered by something (not to be confused with the English deranged meaning unbalanced or crazy) Petit marché—(n) the small market Puce—(n) the SIM card that comes in a phone   Let me clarify, we do not use these words to sound more intelligent or sophisticated. We use these words because they better convey what we want to say. In fact, we don’t even say these words with a French accent. These words have truly been adapted into our English language. Take for instance the word bidon (pronounced “bid-own’, rhymes with condone). All the missionaries in our area own several bidons to hold water in. In our house, our bidons are our only source of water—we own 9 and get them filled twice weekly. There really is no better word to describe our bidons. The term “water jug” just doesn’t cover the concept, especially since we have other containers that could fit the description of a “water jug.” But, say the word bidon, and everyone instantly understand which containers you are referring to.   Another interesting example is that of the verb deranged. The French verb is déranger. Notice, however, that I did not spell our version of the word with an accent mark. We missionaries have truly integrated this word over to the English language, pronouncing it as American as we possibly can. In regards to something that has bothered us, we would say that it had deranged us. We haven’t simply changed the pronunciation of this word; we have now changed the conjugation of the word, adding the past participle ending –ed to it, an ending that does not exist in French.   I could go into more detail with the other words I listed as examples, or I’m sure I could even find more words I have forgotten about. But, I fear that the post would become more nerdy than most people can handle. Having said that, if you’re still reading, thank you for putting up with one of my many idiosyncrasies and for patiently enduring this post!

Update on School

This week has just been one of those really long weeks. I tried a few times to start writing a blog entry, but I gave up each time. I even thought of some creative, interesting blogs, yet those didn’t pan out either. Instead, you’re left with a boring update of the week. Sorry, but that’s just the way life goes.   I’m slowly getting back into the swing of things here in Cameroon. Tomorrow will mark the end of week one teaching 6th grade. Teaching elementary kids has definitely been an adjustment—for them and for me! I graded a lot of homework today. It was a little discouraging to say the least. (Actually, at one point I believe I questioned my ability to teach.) Let’s just say there will be some reteaching happening in math and English class.   I’ve also been working hard on getting organized this week. Because I ended up coming to Cameroon later than I had last year, I wasn’t able to start the school year off with the kids. Thankfully, they all have very capable parents. However, I have some grading and recording to catch up on. I’m making progress each day, so hopefully I’ll be finished with that by the beginning of next week. One of the families didn’t get all of their homeschool material in till early this week, so we’re working on transitioning into all of the subjects.   I began violin lessons with one of the families this week. I’m upping my expectations of them this year—I’m now requiring 30 minutes of practice time 5 days a week. I’m excited to see how they progress this year. Today was my first violin lesson with the little 4-year old. We ended on a positive note, so I think it went pretty well. I brought over a ¼ size violin, but it’s actually too big for her. Hopefully she’ll grow a lot this year so that I can get her started on some songs before she’s bored of the violin. Today we worked on very basic things—how to hold the violin and the bow. I told her that this week I wanted her to show Mommy 5 times each day how to hold the bow properly. She whispered in my ear, “But I don’t know how to count.” I said, “Well, Mommy can help you.” Then she held up 5 fingers—“Is it this much?” She was very relieved when I said that was indeed five.

Back in Cameroon

Well, the moment you have eagerly anticipated all summer long has finally come. That’s right—there’s a new blog post on my blog. (Hooray!!) Ok. Maybe you’re all not that excited about a new post from me. After all, I did leave you pretty high and dry regarding my whereabouts and happenings this summer. I didn’t even let you know if I got back to the States safely. I do apologize. My last few weeks and days in Cameroon were quite a whirlwind, and I let life get in the way. Then I got out of the habit of blogging and simply didn’t work up the energy to continue. So, let me quickly get you up-to-date.   I flew out of Cameroon this spring on May 8th and flew into Brussels. From Brussels, I caught a train to Paris where my world-traveler sister met up with me. She organized a two-week long vacation in France for the two of us. We spent a week in Paris and a week in the southern part of France in the province of Provence. While Andrea and I both had a great time in Paris—I mean, how great are picnics underneath the Eiffel Tower! —I think we both enjoyed Provence much better. Everything about southern France was more enjoyable it seemed: the countryside was breathtaking, the people were welcoming, and the food was distinctive. I was especially looking forward to the one day that we were going to spend on the Mediterranean. Unfortunately, it rained that entire day. (As in, the shops by the water were flooded with mud.) It was a little disappointing. However, that just means I’ll have to take another trip to France in the future.   After a great two weeks of vacation, I flew back to Detroit on the 24th of May, just in time to renew my license and watch my baby brother graduate from high school. The Lord was very gracious on that trip back home. I woke up that morning uncomfortably sick, emptying my stomach in a very unpleasant way. I spent a good part of my train ride to Brussels becoming well acquainted with the train restroom. In fact, my luggage and I almost ended up in Amsterdam as opposed to the Brussels airport. Thankfully, I realized something was wrong before the train left on the wrong track, and I was able to purchase another train ticket to the Brussels airport without shedding too many tears. (Remember, I’m sick during this exciting process.) I’m still not sure what happened since my first ticket was supposed to take me all the way from Gare du Nord in Paris to the Brussels airport, but my two suitcases and I made it safely to Michigan at the end of the day.   God provided me with a great job this summer working at the call center I have worked at for the past three summers now. (The best part of the job was that I didn’t actually have to call anyone this summer! Well, I guess the people I worked with were pretty great too. J) I was able to take off a week of work to head out to my brother Brandon’s wedding in Utah. That trip had its own set of adventures (and Nebraska is over 440 miles long, if you were interested), but we had a great time with family and enjoyed a beautiful, God-honoring wedding. (Oh, and here’s my plug for Salt Lake City: Go. It’s a cool place. And eat at Café Rio’s for me. It’s the best Mexican food I’ve ever had. Just don’t tell me you ate there, because then I will be jealous.)   God also provided the support I needed for this year without me having to travel much at all. In fact, I was able to visit with a good friend from college in the process. Our God is so good in how he graciously provides exactly what we need! I am continually amazed by his perfect provision. I had such a wonderful summer with family and friends that it was almost hard to return back to Cameroon. But, I knew that Cameroon was where God wanted me to be for the school year, so I packed my luggage with African essentials (you know—bacon, pepperoni, chocolate chips) and flew out of Detroit this past Saturday. I did experience some delays due to weather (aka: a tornado in NYC), but my luggage and I all arrived safely in Cameroon where I received quite an enthusiastic greeting from the Barilla kids. The little 4-year old gave me the biggest of hugs. In fact, I don’t think she let go of me for half an hour. That definitely made the long trip worth every single minute!   Now I’m settling back into life in Foumban. Regular life includes no running water, frequent power outages, and ringing doorbells early in the morning. Of course, regular life also includes smiles and hugs from the neighbor kids, fun times spent with the missionary kids, and Bible studies with friends from last year, so I’m thankful and excited to be back. The inconveniences of life in Africa quickly fade when compared to the far greater rewards I experience from those around me. I’m so thankful for this place of ministry God has placed me in for the school year. Please pray with me as I jump into the swing of school. I want to help the kids out—not discourage them from ever wanting to learn! I’m excited for what God has in store for the year. May he receive the glory due his name for what he will accomplish this year!

Surprises

(written Friday, April 27thJ

Yesterday we kicked our weekend of craziness off to a great start. This weekend, we had a play performance, a Jr./Sr. banquet, and a recital on the schedule.

The high school girls and Sam have been working on a small play since January. I’ve been going to the past several practices to observe and give them tips. Finally, last night they performed the play. I must say, it was the best I had ever seen them do it! Even after seeing it at practice several times, I was entertained. They did a great job getting into character and even threw in a little improv. I could go on and on, but I’ll just say, it was great!

Come to find out, the play was just part of the evening. When the ladies went into the kitchen to get dessert ready, they brought out two cakes and started singing “Happy Birthday.” Apparently, they were putting on an early birthday party for me and Sam. (Sam’s birthday is the 8^th of May and mine in the 27^th.) I will admit that I had my suspicions. No one actually gave it away, but there were several hints. For instance, C was in the kitchen on Thursday night at about 11:00 making something. That was highly suspect, considering C's usually in bed by that time. Rachel also called on Thursday night, asking Sam for her giraffe (a gift that Rachel bought to give to Sam, but that Sam was holding onto). And then last night, one of the little girls walked into the living room at the Loeschers’ where Sam and I were sitting and said, “Miss Rachelle, don’t go into the kitchen or the office! Mommy says don’t go in there!” I just said okay, but I was smiling on the inside. Although I had a pretty idea of what was going to happen, Sam was absolutely clueless. We were spoiled royally. Rachel made a cake for both me and Sam—carrot cake for me and Black Forest for Sam. (They were delicious!) And the gifts—wow! I got all kinds of souvenirs from the artisan market. I can’t wait to bring them all home

Truthfully, the birthday party was just the beginning of the evening. Sam and I decided to break out the games after we opened gifts. We began with a rousing game of spoons. It was definitely the most intense game I’ve ever played. At one point, one of the men lunged over the table and rolled on his head in order to get a spoon. He was successful in the attempt, and I don’t think any of us will ever forget that sight! We then moved on to Apples to Apples and ended by playing sardines in the dark. We all had such a great time. The boys didn’t want me and Sam to leave, but since it was about 11:00, we had to head back home.

The night wasn’t over yet, though. The climax was still to come. When we got home, Sam headed to her room and turned on her light. When I walked past her room, I noticed something on the ground right in front of her room. I stopped to examine it, and realized it was a scorpion! (This was only the second scorpion I’ve seen since I’ve been here.) Somehow, Sam managed to avoid it while going into her room in the dark. Well, C was already in bed, and I knew that Sam wouldn’t kill the scorpion. The responsibility fell to me. I quickly headed to my room and grabbed two shoes (the ones that are good for killing cockroaches). I worked up my courage and squashed that scorpion flat. Not to be graphic, but juices squirted everywhere—it was disgusting! From the amount of body fluid the creature lost, I was pretty sure it was dead, but Sam made me hit it again just in case. And then, I had to clean it up. I think that was even worse than killing it in the first place. I tried a couple times to sweep it into a dust pan, but kept chickening out. I kept chanting to myself—“I am bigger than the scorpion. I am bigger than the scorpion.” Finally, I felt strong enough to clean it up. Just another African experience I can check off my list.

Two weeks to go!

I will be back home in Michigan one month from today. I’m not usually a home-body, but I’m really looking forward to being home, to being able to talk to my family (I’ve not talked to them since Christmas), to seeing my little brother graduate from high school. When I get home, I’ve been asked by a few of the missionaries to have someone take note of the odd things that I say as I readjust to life back in the States. So, this is a call out to those of you that know be well—when you see me, be prepared with pen and paper in case I say something off the wall. For example, one of the ladies here was overwhelmed on her first visit back to Taco Bell. She ended up asking the worker if they sold burritos. Another lady walked into a grocery store and had to walk right back because it was too much for her to handle. Hopefully, I won’t be walking up and down the aisles hugging all the food. J

On Friday, we visited the “water park” again. There were about 28 of us there this time, and we all had a blast. Due to an unexpected detour, I didn’t get to the water park until about an hour and a half after everyone else. Most of the older kids had gone exploring upstream, and I wanted to go join them. One of the boys that had stayed behind (Josh) decided to go find them with me, so the two of us traipsed through the water over the slippery rocks. It was not as easy as it looked, let me tell you. The bruises on my legs could testify to the difficulty of the trek. Finally, we caught a glimpse of the group we were trying to catch up to. And then I slipped and fell in the water. Poor Josh. I think I scared him to death. He anxiously asked me, “Are you okay, Miss Rachelle?” “I’m fine, don’t worry,” I answered. “Could you do me a favor, though? Could you look and see if anyone saw that?” Thankfully, no one had witnessed my wipe-out. Most of the afternoon was pretty overcast, but God held off the rain so that we could enjoy our time together.

We’re also getting back into the birthday routine. We had two birthdays to celebrate over the weekend. May arrives with quite the birthday vengeance—there are four birthdays in May (not including mine since I’ll already be in the States when mine rolls around). With all the events going on, my last two weeks will not be boring in the least. This weekend alone, we have a play performance, a Jr./Sr. banquet, and a recital. I think I’ll be on the plane heading to Europe before I realize it!

Today’s two Bible studies were really encouraging, once again. In the study with Frieda, we went through a lesson on salvation. She really understood the verses we looked at and was very solid in her understanding of salvation. At the end of the lesson, I asked Frieda to share her testimony with me, and she was able to clearly explain when (and more importantly why) she trusted in Christ for salvation. In the study with Clementine, we were talking about heaven. At the end of lesson, the book asked, “If Christ were to return today, would you be ready to meet him?” I asked Clementine to respond to the question. She thought long and hard about it, and then nodded. I then asked her to explain her answer, and she responded because she has trusted in Christ for her salvation. Please continue to pray for these two individuals. Next week will be my last study with both of them.

Artisan Market

I know that I desperately owe you faithful readers an update. I think I’ve just been so relieved with the end of the wedding that I haven’t wanted to do much of anything. Tomorrow marks a mere three weeks until I leave Cameroon. I cannot believe how long I’ve been here, but even less can I believe how soon I’m leaving. I’m not too sad—I am planning on returning next year. But, there’s so much to do in the next three weeks!

This past weekend, Carolyn headed down to Yaoundé to retake her ACT test. Carol, Rachel, Sam, and I decided to head down with her. (Of course, Carol, her mother, had to go with her. We couldn’t just send Carolyn by herself!) My main interest in going down on this trip was to stop by the artisan market and get my fill of souvenirs. Let me tell you, did I ever get my fill. We actually ended up going to the artisan market twice. After surveying our purchases on Friday night, we realized we hadn’t gotten as much as we wanted. As I’ve mentioned before, Sam is incredible with bartering and with knowing the right prices. I think our greatest find at the market were canvas paintings of African scenes. We found an incredible artist—and ended up buying a total of 20 paintings! (As Carol says, between me and Sam, we have enough to start up our own artisan market that could rival our local Foumban market!) What amazes me the most is how much these vendors manage to get out of tourists. They would tell us, “You’re not a tourist, but this is the price we give for tourist.” And then they would proceed to quote us an absolutely absurd price. The crazy thing—there is no doubt in my mind that certain tourists actually pay those prices (if not even more!).

For instance, Sam wanted to purchase two boxes (big jewelry sized ones). We asked the vendor the price for the first box. He gave of a price of 42,000 Fr (about $84). Sam and I literally laughed in his face. Then he told us the price of the second box: 36,000 Fr (about $72). Once again, we had a good laugh. We knew this man was trying to take us for a ride. But, we are no novices at this game. Sam gave the man a price that was just a small fraction of his initial quotes. She stuck to her guns and got it for that price. The key in bartering is to stick to your price and walk away if they refuse. Typically, the vendor will run after you. However, even if he doesn’t, you can try the same price (for the same objects) at the next vendor. (Often, you can even try a lower price and get what you initially wanted.)

Carol tends to attract attention at the artisan market. Many of the vendors are from the Bamoun tribe, the sultan of which lives in our base town of Foumban. Carol knows Bamoun, so she often speaks to these men in their mother tongue. Leaving the artisan market with Carol in the car is quite an adventure. When we tried to pull out on Friday, our car was bombarded with vendors trying one last time to sell us their merchandise. The good thing about this selling assault is that you get dirt cheap prices since they’re just trying to get something out of you. This is the time to figure out the real prices on certain items. I must say, we benefitted of this opportunity just as much as the vendors themselves did!

As much fun as I had in Yaoundé, I’m thankful to be back in Foumban. Life is slower here (in some senses), and that’s a good things. Today Sam and I had two Bible studies. I have been so encouraged with our Bible studies that past few weeks. Frieda is an English speaking lady that used to go to our church but now goes to the Baptist Convention church. Before Christmas, I was discouraged because I would rather have a ministry to the ladies that are actually in our church. But God knew that Frieda needed the encouragement. She has been so eager to study from God’s Word, and she seems to have a very clear understanding of salvation. I really believe that God is working in her life, and that He will use her to bring her family to salvation. Pray for her, please, that by her testimony, God would draw her husband to himself.

Later this afternoon, we had a Bible study with Clementine, our 13- or 14-year old neighbor. In Clementine’s case as well, I have been so encouraged. A few weeks ago, she brought in a notebook that she had begun with questions she had from the Bible. I also saw her bring that notebook to church to take notes in. There sometimes is a language barrier in Clementine’s case—she’s a French speaker, but she wants the Bible study to be in English so that she can improve her English. Often, she struggles to understand certain words, but Sam can usually explain them pretty well or I can give the French translation of the word. This afternoon, we were studying the second return of Christ, a topic that can get fairly complex. But God gave understanding, and I really feel like she’s growing. In fact, a few weeks ago, her mother mentioned to C that she’s seen quite a change in Clementine. Please pray for Clementine as well, that God would continue to do a work in her, and that she would be a testimony to her Muslim family.

Wedding--African Style

The wedding is over! The wedding is over! The wedding is over! Sorry, I’m just a little excited about that fact! This past week has been jam-packed with wedding preparations. Sam has put countless hours into painting wall decorations for the reception hall. She spent about 15 hours a day 3 days straight to complete the painting. I even got pulled into helping her. I do not claim to be a painter, but I was glad to be able to help her. Thursday night we didn’t finish painting until 2:30 a.m. We were going to spend the next day finishing up the decorations and setting up the hall, so Sam and I decided to pull an all-nighter. (Please don’t ask the reasoning behind that decision. After all, it was 2:30 in the morning!) We raided the fridge and pulled out the chocolate before crashing on my bed with a favorite T.V. series. By the end of the first episode, Sam was already snoring, but she did wake up and we watched another episode. But she didn’t last through that one either, so by 4:30, we were both asleep. We actually figured out last night, that we had literally spent 33 hours in each other’s company (with only bathroom breaks to divide up those hours).

Yesterday was filled with decorating. We set up shop at the Loeschers’ house and got the girls to work filling paper sconces with flowers and ferns. Sam and I then decorated a metal arch with palm branches and artificial flowers that we bought in the market in Bafoussam. And yes, I personally cut down one of those palm branches with a machete! Now, before you get any crazy ideas, understand that it was a very small palm tree, so I didn’t actually have to climb up into it or anything like that. J

After lunch, we headed over to the hall (the local high school’s gymnasium) to get as much decorating down as possible. Just before we headed over, we received news that threw quite a wrench into our plans—apparently another wedding party was scheduled in the hall on the same day. Our reception was to start at 3; theirs at 7. In other words, our reception would have to end by 6:00 so that we could tear down and let the next group get in. Despite all the obstacles we encountered setting up the hall, the crew (consisting of a few of the missionary ladies and the older girls) managed to finish decorating by 7:00.

Today was the wedding. At 8:00 the civil ceremony was to be held at the groom’s home, and the church ceremony was scheduled for 10:00. I wasn’t able to attend the civil ceremony, but I headed over to the church around 9:20, giving myself plenty of time to be ready to play before the wedding. Sam and I set up our violins by the keyboard, and tried to angle our chairs in the shade. And then we sat there … and sat … and sat. We finally started the prelude music around 10:30, and I think the wedding only started about an hour behind schedule. Unfortunately, due to a late start, we ended up sitting longer in the hot midday sun. I kept moving my chair closer to the building, trying to find shade, but I ended up with a royal sunburn. I’m definitely going to have an awful farmer’s tan!!

One great tradition at the weddings here in Africa is that of the wedding fabric. The bride and groom chose a particular fabric for the wedding guests to purchase and create their wedding from. Julianna and Richard picked a very bold print with a mixture of navy blue, red, and yellow. I wasn’t too sure of the fabric choice at first, but in the end, I really liked the fabric. It was so neat to look into the crowd and see different styles of dress in the same fabric. And the wedding fabric makes it very easy to see who is a guest of the wedding.

I have more tales to share—how Sam and I had to tear napkins into four pieces because we didn’t have anything to serve the cake on; how we ended up hiding behind the cake table to eat our food; how the emcee went from table to table urging the guests to finish the food in order to reuse their plates. But, I’m out of room, so those stories will have to wait for another time. Besides, who would really believe me?!