4th post Africa

Abusine everyone ! (that’s Douala for good morning, though it may or may not be morning back home. I’ve learned it in like 3 other local dialects as well!  Because of the different tribes that existed before the French colonized the area, there’s a ton of “pateois” as they call it.  Everyone grows up and learns at least the tribal pateois of both their parents, French, and English.  It’s crazy!)

Anyway, I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised that it’s already P-Day again, although everytime it comes I’m confused as to where the week went.  The beginning of the week was pretty slow, actually, but then it picked up pretty quick when our water cut out again.  Which…doesn’t exactly make sense.  You’d think it would go by slower!  I think it’s just because we’ve been working super hard.  Elder Zurcher said he’s never had such good numbers (of people taught in a week), and he’s been out here for a year!  I’m excited to be a part of the miracle that’s happening out here.  It’s just fantastic, even though some times people blow us off or there’s a miscommunication or whatever.  We just keep our heads up and look for someone else who’s ready to hear the Gospel!

Speaking of miscommunication.  The phone service here is pretty awful.  Half of the time you try to call someone, either the network is busy or it won’t even ring.  It just says, “the person you are trying to reach is unavailable,” which is 90% the fault of the carrier, which is either a Cameroonian company called MTN or Orange, a French phone company. For whatever reason, they just have bad service out here. 

Anyway, I’ve picked up on some more cultural stuff and eaten some more traditional dishes that I’m sure you’ll love to hear about!  One thing I’ve noticed is that nearly every car is either a Toyota or a Mercedez-Benz.  I know I mentioned something about being surprised to find so many nice cars here, but I don’t think I realized that they were either one or the other.  There’s a handful of French brands (Peugeot, Renaut, and Citroen, though most are Peugeot), but literally out of 41 cars, 20 are Toyota, 17 are Mercedez-Benz, and the 4 that are left fall under other.  Who knows why.  I’ll do some research during the week and get back to you (maybe).

I ate “fufu” for the first time, which people raved about before I even got here.  Apparently I was the last one in the MTC to know that fufu was a big deal in Central Africa.  Soeur Marlyse made it for us, and it was…interesting!  It’s manioc that’s been cooked into a sort of booger ball that you pull chunks out of with your fingers, dip in a sauce (for us we had gumbo sauce, which was fish bits and something green, you’ll see a picture) that’s served on the same plate, and stick it all in your mouth.  She gave Elder Zurcher and I two booger balls a piece, each one of which could easily have been the size of a baseball.  It was so hard to even finish eating the first one, and I regretted to tell her that I just couldn’t force the second one down.  It was ok, but definitely not the best thing I’ve eaten here.  My companion said they make it super good in the Congo, where he spent 6 months of his mission already. 

I’ve also eaten this bongo tchopi sauce (which was black, and I have no idea what it was made of.  When we asked, Soeur Marlyse showed us what looked like a wooden spoon, and something else that I just had no idea what it was) with 4 different types of manioc/potato/root things that were super delicious.  Don’t forget the little fish that was thrown in the middle! 

We met this guy whose brother had joined the Church and told him about it, and he had a great feeling about it, especially when he started reading the Book of Mormon. Soon after though, he moved to Douala to start training to be a navigator for trade ships and left his book at home, and said he thirsted to find the church but had no idea where it was.  Then one day, he was out just looking for a car to buy for when he got back from training, and he looked across the street and saw our sign! He was so excited, came to church on Sunday, asked us to teach him, and wants to get baptized.  We went to teach him and ended up teaching him and like 5 other people.  It was so cool.  They gave us these sweet African hugs, which are like French bisous on the cheeks, but you hug from one side to the next.  It was awesome.

The mangos are falling off the trees here.  Have I already explained that?  And the trees are huge! I swear it’s the biggest fruit tree that exists.  We walk around and just stare at the trees in hopes that one will fall down.  It’s happened twice already!  One time we were jogging in the morning and one fell right in between both of us.  It would have hurt so bad if it had hit us because they fall from such a high distance. 

I’ve been having some pretty crazy dreams, like every night.  Sometimes about zombies, sometimes about French people, sometimes about Africans.  Normal “me” dreams.  That’s about it on that subject haha. You can read my journal if you want details.

For some reason, whenever we have a huge thunderstorm it always happens at like 3 in the morning.  The thunder wakes me up first, then I kindof sit up and think of how nice the wet breeze is that’s coming through the window, and then I realize it’s raining and shoot up to shut the windows so we don’t get all dirty. Then the thunder strikes again and shakes my bones and the whole apartment and scares the poop out of me.  Then I fall back asleep, wake up in the morning and it’s like nothing ever happened! That’s happened several times now.  How bizarre, how bizarre.

One time we went to teach this guy whose brother just died, and his little brother was sitting on the “porch” playing this game where he had a paper soccer goal folded up with the back in tact, a bent bottle cap in the middle standing up, and then he used a flat bottle cap to flick a pebble at the goal.  I couldn’t imagine amusing myself like that for so long.  They just use what they have to try to have fun, and it works for them.  Bottle caps litter the paths between quartiers, which are like neighborhoods if you could even call it that.  I would say we go door to door if there were even doors in some parts of the city.  Lots of people just have a curtain that hangs down from where the door is supposed to be.  I’ve learned to love a lot of things I didn’t really realize had any benefit back home.

Soeur Marlyse says I have pretty feet.  African feet, if you will.  No arc, just flat.  That’s the way they like them haha.  I have a sweet tan line from my Chacos, but also like a million mosquito bites.

One last thing I’ve noticed – false advertisement.  It’s kindof funny, but also makes you apprehensive about buying anything outside of a reputable store like Casino or something French based.  Even then we have to sift our flour for maggots; I found a few the other day.  It was a pleasant experience.  I guess the longer you’re here though, the less you care about what you eat.  Anyway, people make fake stuff all the time, like super cheap plastic Beats headphones, and soccer jerseys with names and numbers just taped on the back, or patches sewed into the sleeves.  One of our investigators showed us this skin product he’s going to put in the market, but on the label he put “made in South Africa” so he could get a leg up in competition.  We were like, yeah that’s not very honest, but he insists that everyone does stuff like that, so it’s ok.  He’s just playing it smart! Haha, people here are nutso, but we love them.

The longer I’m here, the more I love the people, despite their craziness sometimes.  People peeing in the middle of the road, no traffic rules, etc.  It’s great.  I don’t really wanna be transferred to a new city.  The people we teach have gotten kindof attached to us, and vice versa.  I guess that’s just the life of a missionary though, and it’s not like I plan on just cutting ties with all of them.  I’ll be back some day, and I’ll try to keep in touch as much as I can.

We have a baptism this weekend, and many more planned for the end of the month.  What a wonderful thing it is to bring others unto Christ.  I only have 22 months left as of next week.  What the hecky - Elder Zurcher.

Have I talked about him much? We get along like two peas in a pod.  He’s just the best.  He was exactly what I was hoping I wouldn’t have for a companion – 19 year old Utah born and raised Mormon who never left mom and dad’s to cook or clean for himself, and yet he’s everything I could have hoped for in a companion – dilligent, loving, funny, charitable, I don’t know.  He’s just the best.  I forget the age difference sometimes.  I forget the Utah thing sometimes.  He’s twice the missionary I am, if not more, and I wouldn’t want to have been trained by anyone else. 

Gotta run away, we’re going out to eat as a district tonight. 

Love you more than the polluted stars I rarely see and miss you more than grass I never see,

Dimala !

Elder Garland

P.S.

Here's my mailing address if you ever wanna try sending me a letter...

Elder Casey James Garland

B.P 3171

Douala, Cameroon

Africa