The Season of Mice (plus update on classes, students, and football)

I woke up three times last night and jumped out of bed, yelling Mariamou’s name in excited anticipation. Yes! I had three mice fall into my glue-on-wood trap. Three in my room alone! We have had a mice problem for the past couple weeks, and its not just us. It is the entire town. Sleeping is difficult when you hear your door being chewed and know that your underwear is going to have holes the size of quarters in them tomorrow morning. I kept asking about a trap and we tried a couple times, but it didn’t work. A couple days ago there was an odor in the house. I just assumed it was the kids, but Ismaila moved the couch and found that a mouse had dug a hole through the wall from one room to the next. This mouse met its end when it continued to be a glutton and walk its everyday path. The fat thing was stuck in the hole, tail and hind legs hanging out, and rotting to death. The Putrid odor took over every room in the house. That’s when I decided we were moving past traps and onto glue. By 10:00am this morning, we had 4 victories, and tonight is another glorious opportunity. You may think I’m cruel: I ask you to live with them before you judge. Not only are they loud, and eat your stuff, but they have the audacity to poop everywhere, too.


I’ve moved into a new stage with my students in which I visit their homes. Here, going to someone’s home and eating is like grabbing a beer or coffee in the States, a small gesture that makes you more acquainted and shows appreciation for your friendship. As an expat, it is easy to surround yourself with a community of both Cameroonians and expats who have similar interests, are formally educated, and have comparable living standards. Most of my students do not come from this group.


Today I went to Soubataya’s home in Quartier Baladji II. The experience left me with a broken heart. Her husband died 2 years and 4 months ago, leaving illiterate Soubataya broke and virtually helpless. She lives far on the outskirts of town, which required a moto ride. Eight of her nine children (age 2 years to 18) jumped in glee and greeted me with a cultural greeting of respect (using one arm folded over the next when shaking hands) when I arrived. The family dressed in their finest clothing and gave me an omelet and bread to eat. I gave them a kilo of meat. Soubataya then told me she had no recollection of the last time she had eaten meat. Their two-room house has no running water, but does have one light bulb. I ate the omelet and we discussed the potential of her fish business. She showed me a family photo album and told me, frankly, that she’s done crying. She’s cried for two years, she’s responsible for these children and their education and she can’t take it anymore. She refuses to cry now and life has to be more than suffering.

I looked at a huge hole the size of a football in her wall two feet below her ceiling and said, man Soubataya that’s a big hole, how did that get there? She responded by explaining the N'Gaoundéré mouse problem. I was so excited I yelled, yeah, I killed three last night! I am so proud! Who would have thought my relation to her poverty could come from the little boogers. We both laughed. She asked me if I liked the omelet and I verbalized its greatness, but asked her to share it with me. She said she had been stressing all week about what she could prepare for me.

After two hours I hopped on a moto and didn’t look back, it was too hard at that moment. I had never been more appreciative of my life. It’s easier to look away than to get involved; to numb the feeling of empathy. But if you walk away, you have no compassion. Here’s an intelligent woman who is driven to succeed, and will, but has been dealt one of the worst card hands I have ever witnessed.

UPDATE: While writing this I have had two mice confrontations. The mice have a path through a corner of my door from the living room and I have placed the glue-board behind the door. As they lost 3 brothers last night, they wised up and I have been watching them climb on top of my backpack attempting to hold onto the bolt of the door and squeeze through to the other side, therefore avoiding my glue-board. I just rearranged the glue-board and placed it on the other side of the door, and within thirty seconds, we had another one. We also just found one in the living room. That brings us to a count of 6 mice in less than 24 hours! Mariamou went to bed and said “see you later” instead of “goodnight” in anticipation of the next mouse ceremony. I just had another confrontation and this mouse knows that the board is on the other side. I need a new strategy.

I’ve just returned from another house visit. I realized the correlation between most of my students. I’m so stupid. I should have realized long ago that a good number of my students are widows. They can attend classes because they do not require their husbands’ permission. If their husbands are living, then they come from a very progressive household and typically already run a business that they want to improve. During my second home visit I was given a couple pounds of peanuts, a liter of honey, 2 melons, and a drink. I felt like I had won the lottery when I walked out with such a heavy bag of stuff. Her 5 children all attend school and one is finishing his last year as a teachers-aide. She owns a moto and by comparison is well off. This pleased me to see that although her husband has past away, she wasn’t left in poverty.

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Since I last wrote, we have killed 3 more mice. That brings us to 9 in 48 hours and there are more living in the ceiling. When you sleep, they play, and frequently will do something that makes it sound like the roof is falling on your head. At first it’s frightening, but once accustomed, it just brings eventful images into your dreams.

I previously wrote about my students’ determination and hard work. I would like to amend this statement to not include presentations. Tuesday the business class was divided into 5 groups to present various marketing topics. Each group had a president that I selected based on outstanding homework grades. To my disappointment only half of the class showed up for their presentations, thus making me threaten them to prepare another presentation in order to receive their certificates of completion. That was disappointing, but not as frustrating as it is when my class time is taken away from me for political meetings over which I have no control over. I will not further comment on this do to security, but it is exasperating to plan a two hour course and have someone else cancel it, thus leaving me to deal with 30 angry women.

Today my course was interrupted for the second time. Today, however, the subject was the female condom. I had never seen a female condom and appreciated the doctor’s demonstration and the role I played as a translator. Now I know that HIV/AIDS tests here are free, as are all medications concerning the disease. As it is HIV/AIDS awareness week here, I plan to go to the local hospital and be tested - something that is free, smart to do, but really difficult to make yourself do. I feel like if I don’t go and get tested, it is hypocritical to preach to women who face many other obstacles to get tested. If I can explain the process in full detail, chances are much higher that I will persuade others.

Breaking Ground Football has become a full on community project. Mr. Etienne Fouejio and I have developed a two-year plan to make it sustainable. The impact it’s having on the girls is tremendous. They now practice with their team multiple times a week and having weekend games keeps them from drinking and going out (if they have the money to do so) the night before the game. Multiple delegates now come to the games and there is an entrance fee of 100 FCFA (20 cents) to watch. People congratulate me on its success all the time. I had a coaches meeting on Monday in which I anticipated problems. (Coaches, by nature, are competitive and argumentative people. I know this because I’m in the club.) Through all the small squabbles, however, we all agreed on the next steps to be taken. I have been sent equipment and materials from a number of universities and I am anticipating a couple more to send uniforms. The uniforms in the pictures are borrowed for games from men’s teams or old programs. They are filthy and passed around. Typically girls are told to wear one solid color shirt, which makes for a team with 3 girls in orange, 4 in blue... you get the idea. Just to add to my competitive spirit, my team beat the top ceded team 1-0 last weekend, with a goal scored by yours truly!

As my classes come to an end, my work continues to pile up. Now the pressure is on to visit everyone’s home. This is a fun thing to do as I get to see different areas of town and meet the families of my students. However, it leads to eating mass proportions of Cameroonian food and sitting around for hours. It is really difficult to plan around these time frames. Plus it doesn’t matter how long I stay, or how much I eat, the hours and amount will never be enough. I went to a home today of one of the players/coaches that I have previously written about. When I walked in the door, two monkeys greeted me on leashes as well as a parrot, 3 cats, ducks, and goats. I know I grew up on a farm, but leave me from the monkeys as pets. I’m testing my patience with mice and really do not need anything that looks and acts so similarly to me running at me. I will probably dream of a nice large glue-door tonight.