"Contact and Connection" vs "Contacts and Connections"

In the US I have mixed results when I tell people what I “do”. Some people view me as some weird saint character, others think I’m crazy/fascinating, and some have absolutely no interest. With one or two expressions and statements, I can read people who relate, want to relate, and those who don’t. When I graduated from college, I felt this pressure (from no where in particular) to get a “serious and respectable” office job. I went to a couple interviews and knew right away that my path did not consist of those jobs, at least not yet. I had no idea what I should do and people kept telling me to use my “contacts and connections”. This was absurd to me. I know that connections and contacts get you places, especially in the US, but I did not even know what I was looking for. I remember talking to my parents about “my path” and they seemed more relaxed than I was. My Dad told me and my mom told me things will fall into place when they shouldshe didn’t know anyone that did the kind of work I was interested in, but would help anyway she could.

For me, “contacts” and “connections” mean someone that I don’t know giving someone else that I don’t know my name and information. It doesn’t make sense to me. It leaves me feeling cold and confused, with some weird pressure to be someone extraordinary. Whoever “they” want me to be and not who I am. What I want to define is the difference between contacts/connections and contact/connecting.

My job is to connect with people, to take their face, their home, their story, and make it mean something to me personally. Not just another person in poverty, but a friend who works hard and has a beautiful family. Once I do this, I gain their trust and we work together towards a goal. This connection I speak about, this one-on-one contact, this is why I do the work I do. It is not always difficult, but is rarely easy, however when the connection happens an ordinary day become an extraordinary day.

I had my final pre-season coaches meeting yesterday. During the entire meeting I felt like I was slamming my head against a wall. The simplest concepts were being made into complicated fiascos. The good thing is Etienne Fouji, who works for the delegation of sports, helps me organize and run the meetings. When people ask questions, he’ll confer with me then answer. This gives me more time to think about the problem and helps with any language barrier. When there are 10 plus people arguing, M. Fouji is my saving grace.


The coaches were to bring their team roster and I was to give out soccer balls and whistles. Only three coaches came with team rosters. I was disappointed. I told them that the coaches with lists would receive balls. Fire was thrown from coaches’ mouths saying I didn’t understand the difficulties. I threw it back. For two weeks I have gone to practices everyday, sometimes three in a day. I didn’t just watch, I ran sprints and I played in scrimmages. Last Saturday I went to watch a regional game, when the opposing team didn’t show up, I ran home got a sports bra and proceeded to play center mid with a novice-level motley group against a regional team. I have walked from house to house to make the needed connection with parents. I have asked over and over again, what can I do to help? What amused me was that the three coaches who succeeded with their lists didn’t say a word the entire time. The one’s that argued had absolutely no founded argument. Were they just arguing to argue? Or did they want two free soccer balls? I pointed out that the three coaches with registered players weren’t involved in the conversation. I spoke with fire, this program is to promote girls soccer. It is not a fierce competition; it is to give girls a break to do something fun and healthy. Will the three coaches with rosters please help the other coaches and give them advice on why their teams were proving successful. Share the secrets of success, if you don’t there will be no one to play against! If we as coaches and delegates cannot work as a team, then how can we expect girls to learn from us and work in teams? That question somehow ended the nonsense debate. Maybe it was my tone, I’m not sure.

Half way through the meeting a man walked in and introduced himself as the representative of women’s soccer for the Adamoua region. He asked what we were discussing then preceded to tell me that he needed to be paid for his position. (Often in Cameroon when you have a certain government position you get paid, even if you don’t do anything). Frankly I didn’t know why he was there. M. Fouji and I looked at each other and I told him to tell the man he had no role here, and he could leave. Once the man realized that the American woman wasn’t going to give him anything, he stood up and walked out. Another problem arouse. There is one woman who plays, coaches, and has claimed that she is the head of women’s soccer in N'Gaoundéré. She also wants some monetary retribution. I think this is when the delegate himself stood up and told people that if they didn’t realize they were volunteers they too should leave.

I have tried repeatedly to get this woman involved. As it is her “position” and she seems to love soccer, I would love to give her some responsibility in the program. This is proving impossible. We planned to have 6 teams in the program and suddenly there were 9 teams represented. Two coaches complained that they didn’t have enough players. What if you worked together to form one team? They agreed (head wall, head wall). I made the final list of 6 teams from the teams that I had literally seen practicing. I wrote the list and passed it around. These teams will receive balls and whistles, and return Friday with their rosters. She stated that her team the “angels” weren’t on the list for competition. I asked her why she hadn’t asked me to a practice? And why she did not have a list of players? She had no response. I told her if she wanted a team, she could work with another coach. The rules are the rules, despite your position title. Again, FIRE. By the end of the meeting I had six teams, a schedule of matches, but wanted a helmet for my head.

I mentioned in my last blog how it was difficult to organize the business class; really I had not met the right woman. My connector. Last week Taguem and I presented ourselves to the Delegate of Women (who happens to me a man). We actually never met the delegate, but his secretary bought into the idea of the business classes immediately. Apparently, so did the delegate, as I am teaching the class in the classroom next to his office and he signed a list of women’s names with his signature and seal. His secretary sells ginger and orange juice that she makes at home and totes to the office. I gave her one week to make two lists of twenty women. There are certain aspects about corruption that I don’t understand, at least not in time to combat them. They are missing pieces in my puzzle of Cameroon. One was that I didn’t know to collect the first list from her that next week. Taguem told me that she probably re-arranged the list so that her friends get priority (she said there is a long waiting list with hundreds of women who want to take the class). There is really nothing I can do about this. I appreciate that she knows so many women who are interested in being entrepreneurs. I took the final list she gave me and will proceed.


I had the business classes meeting this morning. Taguem ran into the room before the class began and said good luck and remember connect with the women, make them believe in the course. I looked down at myself wearing all Cameroon clothing for that purpose and laughed. Here goes, I thought. About 45 women came to the meeting, some eager with enthusiasm and others more timid. One woman stuck out particularly. When she walked into the room, everyone started clapping, smiling, and cheering. She glowed in her yellow flowing dress and bright smile. She shook everyone’s hands and immediately went to the front row. She told the other women to occupy the seats closest to the front. As I began to introduce myself, my translator walked around the room taking names. Some women are illiterate and many do not speak French. As my translator was busy filling out their details, I waited to have my words translated. The mystery woman in the front row stood up and said I’ll do it, as long as the translator doesn’t feel I’m taking her job. We proceeded and everyone seemed upbeat about the class. One man walked in and sat down to listen, I asked him if he was a woman and told him to leave. All the women chuckled and said, yeah this is for us! Thursday the illiterate class begins at 9 and the literate class starts at 11. I need to start drawing, as I haven’t drawn out any of the homework assignments for the first class.

When the meeting ended I had many personal conversations. Two in particular stuck out. The woman who sat on the front row and helped with Fulfulde translations pulled me aside. She told me that she knows rural women. She is taking the class to gain knew ideas for rural women. She then told me she wanted to take an English course. I told her about my courses but said that I would rather she wait and take the February English course as both courses together will be lot of new vocabulary. She said Because, I can. Her face was a full smile as she explained that at the last world summit of rural women in South Africa she had many ideas that she couldn’t share because she couldn’t express herself well in English. And before she goes to the next world summit in India in 2010, she will be prepared. My eyes were probably as big as oranges at this moment. I told her she is more than welcome to take both my classes. I then understood why all the women stood up and clapped as she walked in the classroom and that when she said who thinks I can’t handle it you or me?I know all the rural women that she really meant it. She is a dynamic figure to say the least.

The last conversation I had was with three Anglophone women. They waited to speak to me privately and said that they did not know the course had a fee. The course is roughly $5 per person. I have told the women that they can pay in small amounts throughout the course and that the money goes to material costs. I am a volunteer and not paid. One woman, who spoke perfect English, told me that they all are from the same family and they grow ginger on their farm. They have extra land that they rent out. She said that right now, they can pay me, but asked if I could return the money if their next crop is bad. They had discussed sending only one woman to the course, but all three want to take it. They are using their emergency money for the course in hopes to improve their business. I told them that I wanted them to pay in very small amounts when they can and that their requirement is to take me to see their farm. Together we will come up with new ideas and work on them throughout the course. I didn’t want to tell the women the course is free because then they may lose a sense of pride in the course and feel that it’s a hand out, however, I also don’t want to put their families at any risk or for them to drop out.

When I feel like I’m going to hit my head against a wall I either go running or call Taguem. When it has to do with work, I always call Taguem. We meet and great each other in all the languages that we know before we begin conversation. I explain to him what my concern is and he laughs and says you have to write this down. It’s amazing what your learning. He then will give me incite to Cameroonian culture and what I have missed or do not understand. We discuss the best solution to my problem. By the end of the discussion his hands are rambunctiously flying around as he always talks with his hands and we are both laughing. I no longer see the wall that my head was banging against and I know that tomorrows a new day.

The following quotation comes from the movie Waking Life and possibly elsewhere. The quotation encompasses my life here in Cameroon. For the past two years, this quotation has followed me. It’s shown up in emails, I painted it, and finally I heard it in Waking Life that a friend here gave me. I think you will enjoy it as well.

When it was over, all I could think about was how this entire notion of oneself, what we are, is just this logical structure, a place to momentarily house all the abstractions. It was a time to become conscious, to give form and coherence to the mystery, and I had been a part of that. It was a gift. Life was raging all around me and every moment was magical. I loved all the people, dealing with all the contradictory impulses - that's what I loved the most, connecting with the people. Looking back, that's all that really mattered.

-Sarah