This life therefore is not righteousness but growth in righteousness;
not health but healing;
not being but becoming;
not rest but exercise.

We are not yet what we shall be, but we are growing toward it.
The process is not finished, but it is going on.
This is not the end, but it is the road.
All does not yet gleam in glory, but all is being purified.

As I knelt to clean up, I realized the song playing on my computer was “Your Love is Extravagant,” by Casting Crowns. Instantly a scene rushed to my mind, clearer than it had ever been. A woman, bent over like I was now. Pouring costly, extravagant perfume over the feet of her Savior. The scent must have been intoxicating, almost overpowering. The warmth in the room would have held the powerful scent in place so that no one in the room could have ignored what was happening. And yet, it was her Savior who loved her with a love more extravagant.

Your Love is Extravagant

Your friendship is intimate

I feel I’m moving to the rhythms of your grace

Your fragrance is intoxicating, in the secret place

Cause Your love is extravagant

Spread wide in the arms of Christ

Is the love that covers sin

No greater love have I ever known

You considered me a friend

Capture my heart again

When I moved to Portland in 2003, it was an interesting process to get to know the United States through the lens of Portland, Oregon. After all, each city has its own flavor, its own character. A city is made of people, who often have all come from “somewhere else.” So even every neighborhood can have it’s own character.

Now I’m in Maroua. How do you get to know Maroua? I could tell you that it’s the capital of the Far North Province of Cameroon, which is the head of the chicken if you’re looking at a map of the country. I could tell you that there are about 300,000 people, but really it’s been a long time since a census, so who knows? Maroua is the center of the cotton industry, so there is some money and business coming through. It also used to be a major center for tourism, although died down somewhat when there stopped being regular flights to the city from the capital of Cameroon, Yaounde. I could tell you that Maroua is hot and dry most of the year, at an elevation of 1,260 ft (384 metres). I could tell you all that, but it doesn’t really tell you much about the city.

I’ve been getting to know Maroua a little as I try to find my place here. I was welcomed with open arms (and warm meals!) by my colleagues here, but now many of them have returned to their village locations. I could tell you that the most uncomfortable things so far have been the heat and the bugs. However, there are fans that help with the heat, and bug spray, shoes (aka cockroach-smashers) and mosquito nets to fight against the bugs. One of the things I have enjoyed the most is the quiet. Perhaps it’s the heat that keeps people from bustling the way they do in other cities. Maybe it’s the way people wall off their compounds. Or perhaps it’s the lack of larger vehicles – the only way to get around in Maroua is to take a clando, or a motorcycle taxi. (Just to clarify, you can drive cars/trucks around, and they do exist, but the only form of public transportation is the clando.) Whatever it is, life seems quieter here.

I’m looking forward to getting to know the city and especially its people more. Hopefully, I will soon find a place to live in the community (for now I’m staying in a guest room) and a language helper. All the Fulfulde I speak helps, but there’s so much left to learn. I also keep using words from the dialect I learned growing up, which here tend to make me sound like a country bumpkin.

*Elvis Beauty Saloon

*Cosmic Fast Internet

*Bamenda University of Science and Technology (BUST)

And an old favorite… Our Lady of Perpetual Mercy Chicken Slaughtering Farm

I’m here.  I made it – I am back in Cameroon, working with SIL, on my own (as in, not under my parents.)

In most ways, the answer the question is Yes!  It feels like home from the minute we stepped off the airplane into the humid Yaoundé air.  The best way I can explain it is that it has engaged all of my senses.  The air smells different, and you have all the smells of people, food cooking, and occasionally the smell of garbage coming up from the sewers on the sides of the road.  The tastes – beignets (small donuts), pineapple, fufu and njama-njama, foleree, and plantains.  The sounds of taxis beeping, the melange of different languages.  The gritty texture of dusty surfaces and cars, and the slip-sliding mud of paths after it rains.

In most places that I have been so far, I am either “Scott and Ruthie’s daughter,” or “Moses and Miriam’s sister.”  It’s strange that the rest of my family had their life here, all without me.  But it’s also nice to be known, in that way.  I feel connected to them every day, as I meet people who knew and loved them.

Today I woke up early so that I could go over and give the chapel message at my old school, Rain Forest International School.  It’s moved 6 kilometres away from where it used to be located, so it was strange, (but amazing) to see all the work that has been done.  The whole school is adjusting to the new location and buildings, but I have to say it looks like it’s running smoothly!  Then I was able to have a meeting with my new boss, it was great to finally get down to defining and shaping what I will be doing here.  More to come…

You will need:

to preheat your oven to 350 degrees fahrenheit, or in Switzerland:

175 degrees celsius

Generously butter a 13×9 baking dish. Seriously, lots of butter.

Beat 3/4 cup sugar and 5 lg egg yolks together until light and fluffy, about 5 minutes:

Fold in delicious Swiss dairy products: 1/3 cup milk, 1/2 tsp vanilla, 1 cup all-purpose flour, 1-1/2 tsp baking powder.

Baking powder

Now grab a new bowl and beat the egg whites to soft peaks.  If you were in America, you would add 1/2 tsp cream of tartar and have fluffy egg whites.  Gradually add remaining 1/4 cup of sugar and continue beating until whites are glossy and firm but not dry.  Or, spend 15 minutes on google looking for how to make your egg whites glossy and firm.  Give up and gently fold the egg whites in whatever condition into the yolk mixture.  Pour this butter into the baking dish.

Bake the cake until it feels firm and inserted toothpick comes out clean, about 30-45 minutes.  Let the cake cool completely in a the dish.

Now you should put together the “milk syrup” that makes the magic.  Combine 12 oz. evaporated milk,

in french: lait condensé non-sucré

14 oz. sweetened condensed milk:

lait condensé sucré

1 cup whipping cream:

crème entière

vanilla, and 1 tblsp rum.  Whisk until all blended, then poke tiny holes all over your cake with a fork and slowly pour in the milk syrup.  Keep pouring it in till it is all absorbed:

keep poking holes to help speed absorbtion...

At this stage, once the milk is absorbed, you can let the cake rest for up to a day at least before serving.  To serve, take the extra whipping cream and add 1 tblsp vanilla.  Then for every cup of whipping cream (I used 3) add 1 tblsp of sugar.  Beat until it firms up nicely, then spread over your cake.  Tres leches is great on its own but I prefer it with mangos and strawberries served on the side, maybe even some vanilla ice cream.  We also used cocoa powder lightly dusted on top:

Bon appetit!

Squamish, BC

It all started with a car switch. There were five girls trying to cram sleeping bags, mats, pillows, food and gear for 3 days into one little car. We made it all fit somehow, but then as we got on the road and rounded the first corner, “Screech!” The car made a horrendous scraping noise. Around the next curve it came again. This time it was more of a scraping sound. It was determined that we should return to the house and switch to a larger car. In the end, my 2-door car ended up having more space than the others’ 4-door vehicles. Score 2 points for the trusty Buick! So we were off again to our destination – the town of Squamish, north of Vancouver, British Columbia.

David and Shelley building our tent

The Canada Institute of Linguistics made camp for the night in eight neighboring camp sites in Paradise Valley Camp ground. I was at the “single ladies” camp site which had two tents and 10 women, but we all had plenty of room.

"Single ladies" camp site

The evening turned into a sort of progressive dinner, as everyone had been told they were responsible for their own dinner. But there was so much food at all the camp sites that you could move from mac&cheese to my pizza pockets to some who had gourmet dinners, then there was of course hot chocolate and various kinds of teas. It was similar in the morning, with everyone whipping out french presses and cast-iron skillets.

The choices for the day were many: the hard-core group, the medium-core, the light-core, and the light. All of the “core” groups were hiking straight-up something, so I opted for the light-core hike that would end up at the lake where I could swim. (It still took us over two hours). But everyone was very patient and we met up with the “light” group at the lake. The water was warmer than I expected, so I actually went swimming several times. I also had a chance to canoe down the river to where there were three different rope swings. The final rope swing was attached to a tree that went far out over the deep water so you could really get out there. Sadly, on my first attempt I hit my foot pretty hard on the rock, so it was bleeding and I’m fairly certain I actually broke the middle toe. (Why just the middle toe? So strange.) Anyway, we spent another evening at the campground, relaxing, playing games, and making s’mores around the campfire. Sunday morning after a communal breakfast we had an amazing time of worship and prayer together.

Swimming with Stacee and Shelley at Brohm Lake

Carcasonne game at the lake

There were still a few who wanted to do another hike, so after some seat-swapping I took this crew up to clean the Chief (mountain). I headed back to Squamish to get gas and then I spent a lovely 3 hours by Shannon Falls. There was perfect shallow water for creek-walking and exploring. Thanks for everyone who encouraged me to come up to Canada and study linguistics this summer. It’s been a challenge and very busy – but this weekend I’m reminded what good preparation it all is for the work that lies before me.

Shannon Falls

Hanging out at Shannon Falls

Shannon Falls creekbed

But it can be an exhausting way to live as I look forward to more of the same.  I will continue to travel from now until October next year.  Hopefully at that point I will be in Northern Cameroon looking for an apartment to rent again.  That’s slightly over 2 years of travel between departure and destination.

But the upside is the actual traveling part.  Even without money for “tourism,” you can see so much.

The Interstate-5 corridor?  It’s like my little time-machine.  When I climb into the Buick and drive between Sacramento and Portland, it’s like going back in time 2 months!  Portland weather seems to be consistently behind Sacramento, so when I drive north I get the sensation that I’m going back in time, as the trees get taller and the grass grows greener.  (No, really, it does!)

Placerville is so beautiful right now that when I visited I went outside on the deck to read and was distracted from my book.  Now, that doesn’t happen easily.  Especially not when I’m reading my new book on the history of Arabic script calligraphy.  Placerville always makes me feel like I’m in an old Western anyway, like I should be running through a field with flowers in my hair. Michael Landon never appears.

I spent a few gloriously sunny hot days in Lodi, California (the Zinfandel capital of the world!)  I have never eaten such sweet strawberries in my life.  I didn’t know strawberries could taste like that!  Did everyone else know?  Was this a giant plot by the people of Lodi to keep all the good strawberries to themselves?  It’s enough to make a girl go all conspiracy-theory.  I find myself regarding strawberries in general much more favorably now that I’ve had the good fortune to encounter the Lodi strawberry.  Between strawberries and Robert Mondavi’s zinfandels you would think these people would be serious hedonists.  But the people I met were the good strong backbones-of-society people.  One of the older ladies even gave me her meatgrinder!  A what-grinder, do you say?  Yes, it’s a simple yet heavy metal contraption where by the sweat of your arm you put raw meat in one side and it comes out of little holes in the other.  Very useful for making hamburgers.  Or tacos.  Or chili.  Mmm… tacos.

Okay, back from my taco break!  I also took a break from California and spent a week up in Portland.  (But right now I’m in Elk Grove, California.)  I’ve got 3 short weeks before starting classes in Canada this summer.  Yay linguistics!

…Yes, there are elephants in Cameroon.
…Yes, the best place to see them is not far from where I’m going to be living.
…No, we don’t have cheetahs or tigers.
…Yes, I will take you there WHEN you come and visit.
…Yes, there are also lions.