196 Books: Cameroon

The Poor Christ of Bombaby Mongo Beti

Cameroon is slightly under the horn of Africa:

Here's the description:
A novel of considerable power and complexity from the pen of one of Cameroon's greatest modern writers, Mongo Beti (1932-2001), The Poor Christ of Bomba is a biting critique of colonial life and the destructive influence of French Catholic missionary activities in Cameroon.

Written as a journal of a young priest's assistant, the satirical novel tells the story of a missionary in the 1930s. In Bomba, the girls who are being prepared for Christian marriage live together in the women's camp. It is not clear whether the girls have to stay in the women's camp for such long periods for the good of their souls or for the good of the mission-building program. Only gradually does it become apparent that the local churchmen have also been using the local girls for their own purpose. The priest realizes the futility and pointlessness of attempting to convert Africans who, as he concludes, already worshipped God in their own way. 

The  Moore translation is a must read for all who wish to come to terms with colonialism and the peculiar role of the Church in the projection of White Power. 

I also want to add a small passage the author added before the actual book starts:
"I don't wish to deceive the reader. There has never been a Reverend Father Superior Drumont in African experience. probably there never will be one--not if I know my Africa. That would be too much luck for us.
The Africans who swarm in these pages have been taken straight from life. And there is no incident here which is not strictly and demonstrably authentic." M.B. (I'll get back to this later)

Well, I knew from the get-go that this book would be unpleasant. You've got a white priest going on a tour through the bush, acting all high and mighty and basically just telling everyone they're godless and terrible. But the scandal begins to break and he changes; starting to listen to the villagers and asking their opinions on why they're not more interested in the religion. Finally he decides that he's wasting his time; the fact is they're not interested and he realizes that the missionaries basically came in and just told them all to change their lives. So he decides he's a failure and should go back to France, because he's pretty exacting and doesn't leave much room for people to have faults.  
I did start to feel sorry for him though. He did care about his flock and did his best, though he seemed to be quite naive. 

So, le scandale. (It's referenced in the description so I won't be providing any big spoilers). There's this women's camp that engaged girls have to go to before they can have a Christian wedding, which they call the sixa. (I tried to look this up but couldn't find any information; I'm not sure if it's a local or historical thing or what). The guy running the sixa was not a good guy and was basically forcing the girls into sex work for most of the guys in the missionary. This is bad enough, but the uninvolved parties kept blaming the women. 
In fact, this was a running theme in the book. This was so fucking infuriating! The women were basically blamed for everything, including things that the men did. One example is a guy who gets caught cheating. His wife finds out and beats the crap out of the mistress. The husband then feels that the wife should be beaten for her actions, and gets some agreement. Because the wife had recently had a baby so he should be allowed to cheat...? 
That's basically when they start hearing about the scandal. So they get back to the mission and Father Drumont wants to interrogate the girls about what's going on. How does he conduct this interrogation, you ask? By beating them of course. And telling them how wicked they are. All while they're explaining that if they hadn't slept with these men their lives would have been made hell. Not that any of them are having a great time; the conditions they're living in are deplorable, they have very little food, and most end up getting STDs. 

Of course, I couldn't help but make the connection with all of the church scandals that are now coming out from the 60s and 70s in the US. The difference is that in reality the scandals were just covered up, and in the book the entire mission was disbanded. Oh, also the priest in the book didn't take part and at least wanted people to be punished. 


I went back to read the author's added pre-message a few times throughout the story. At first it made no sense. I thought the priest was a huge ass who didn't give any room for real life circumstances. But by the end I got it and it made me sad. What first struck me was the second section--the one that said the people and situations were pulled straight from everyday life. Then I went back to Beti saying that Africa wouldn't be lucky enough to have a Father Drumont. My interpretation was he wished there had been someone who understood that missionaries firstly came into Africa, a place where the people already had their own customs and beliefs, and tried to push the Christian religion on them. (Which essentially is the whole point of a missionary, I guess). Further, that the Father realized shoving it down their throats wouldn't work, and maybe didn't need to. Lastly, that these terrible events were happening right under his nose and took steps to end it, and take some steps of correction. 

This one got to me more than I expected it to. With the current Me Too climate, I think there are a lot of historical (and not so historical) problems that we need to at least be made aware of; to understand some of how they were allowed to happen. It all makes my brain hurt. 

196 Books: Cambodia

Crossing Three Wildernesses by U Sam Oeur

This is Cambodia:

And here's a little summary:

In a harrowing but ultimately triumphant affirmation of the human spirit, celebrated Cambodian poet U Sam Oeur narrates his incredible life story, testifies to the horrors of genocide and shares his fervent prayers for peace and freedom through the process of democracy.

Born in 1936 to a large and moderately prosperous farming family, Oeur spent his childhood herding water buffalo and tending rice paddies in the lush Cambodian countryside. He was educated under the French colonial system and selected to attend California State University in Los Angeles. While in the United States, he awakened to the possibilities of the democratic ideal and went on to receive his MFA from the Iowa Writers' Workshop.

Upon returning to Cambodia in 1968, Oeur married, became a captain in Lon Nol's army, served in the National Assembly and was part of the Cambodian delegation to the United Nations. When Pol Pot assumed power in 1975, Oeur, having vowed to help establish democracy in Cambodia and unaware of the events ahead, elected to stay. Driven out of Phnom Phen with millions of the city's residents, Oeur, along with his wife and son, miraculously survived the killing fields, feigning illiteracy and relying upon the skills he had learned as a child to endure six forced-labor camps over the next four years. Millions, however, died during the Khmer Rouge regime, including Oeur's twin daughters.

Crossing Three Wildernesses is a personal account of survival, an astute political analysis and a beautiful illustration of the Cambodian culture--its people, myths and traditions. In a world still plagued by genocide and terror, this remarkable memoir is a moving call to freedom and a passionate plea for peace.

Ugh. Guys. This was yet another book that left me sick to my stomach about the way we treat each other. Whyyyy does the human race continue to decimate itself? I've been saying for the past couple of years that I feel like there's less empathy in the world today, but then I read yet another book like this and remember that people are just historically awful. But, with as many terrible things as it described, this book was written so beautifully. I know I've said it before; this was the kind of book that reads like a friend telling you a story. And because it was so good, I have some notes like I used to do. 

• With the title, I had assumed that the "three wildernesses" were different landscapes, but here's the actual description: "The three wildernesses represented death by execution, by starvation, or by disease, which almost all Cambodians faced during Pol Pot's regime..." Holy crap. Every time I read one of these war stories it reaffirms that I would not survive. 
• Here's a quote that got me fired up: "I should explain that my older sisters were not educated because my father, like other farmers, felt that if they learned to read, they might write love letters to their boyfriends." Harumph. Why is it always the women who get screwed over? Why was there no concern over boys writing letters to their girlfriends? Rude.
• U Sam Oeur first learns French in school, and later on learns English. He says he found English easier to learn because there aren't as many tenses. THANK YOU. People keep saying English is such a hard language to learn but at least we don't make inanimate objects masculine or feminine! People who speak languages that have that...if you have any tips to make any sort of sense out of which sex an inanimate object is, please share it. 
• The author notes at one point that 17,000 people were imprisoned at Tuol Sleng and only 7 survived. (I looked up Tuol Sleng and it was a school turned prison turned museum. Wikipedia says that an estimated 20,000 people were imprisoned but that the actual number isn't known.) I keep reading these stories of genocides and wonder why we don't hear more about them. I understand that the breadth of the killing under Hitler was astronomical, but that doesn't mean we don't need to know about other genocides. I think there are cases where we need to hear about these horrific things; we need to be uncomfortable so that maybe we won't keep doing this shit. 
• When Oeur first takes a job in the government, the president wanted to build protective fences around the Presidential Palace, and submitted a ludicrously high bid. It's argued against and experts say that the actual cost would be a fraction of the amount proposed. He goes on to say, "But I didn't know about the power of the presidency--that you could do anything you wanted once you got in." Which is to say, the president got the amount he wanted. Umm...sound familiar? For all the checks and balances we're supposed to have, I'm afraid this is what we'll end up with if the government ever reopens. 
• Even though the years of Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge seem to have been the scariest, the time before and after their reign wasn't very safe either. And U Sam Oeur is really freaking lucky that he didn't get killed a few times over. He says as much in the book, but he relays many, many stories of him speaking up on his disagreement with whatever the government was doing at the time. There were even a couple of instances that he was supposed to have been executed and he somehow scraped out of it. 
• Apparently there's a thing called Chbap Srei, which is the Buddhist code of ethics for women and, excuse me? I couldn't actually find any information about it, except that some women recently tried to rewrite it. AGAIN, why is it always women being screwed over?! Full disclosure, I didn't actually look up to see if there was one for men, so my anger may be unfounded. I'm okay with it. 
• Throughout the book, Oeur talks a lot about significant dreams, visions, and spirits. I found it really interesting, because the things that the spirits spoke of, or the significance of the dreams, led to real events. I mean Christians have saints and angels, but it's not a widespread thing to say that one of them talked to you or came to you through a medium. It was kind of fascinating. 

One thing that I thought would be fun to start doing is trying food from the country I'm reading about. There happens to be a Cambodian restaurant near the apartment, so Soldier and I went to check it out this past weekend. I had taprom, which is a dish with veggies (even one I hadn't tried/heard of before: napa) with a lemon grass and tamarind sauce, and Soldier had bayon (which of course I tried). Bayon was a Cambodian curry. They were both quite good, and really not out of the ordinary. I do kind of wish I'd tried a few different things, so maybe we'll find a time to do it again. I did get a little nervous to try any of the dishes made with coconut...I really am not a fan. Maybe I'll be more brave next time. I also plan on trying to find the movie The Killing Fields to get a little more information and another perspective on this era. So...the learning continues. 

A State of Things

And I said heyyy, what's going on?

Disclaimer: I've started drinking and Soldier is gone for the weekend. 

So. Where to start? Not that there's that much. I think we close on our house this week! YAY!!! I can't wait to have our own space, not have to smell the neighbors'...smells, and having all of my kitchen stuff back! And to renovate things and get a puppy. 
And that means I'll have to get serious about getting a job, which I'm a tiny bit conflicted about. 
First, the negative. To be completely honest, I LIKE BEING LAZY. I'm certain most people would do this given the option. BUT it would feel good to be contributing again, and having more money because WHAT THE FUCK GOVERNMENT SHUTDOWN. Oooh, lots of yelly caps lock in this post! I mean, Soldier almost had me believing in Libertarianism (because both Republicans and Democrats suck all around), until people started cutting down trees in Joshua Tree park and just ruining the national parks. Just about a year ago, when we were in Hawaii, they shut down Volcano National Park because of the shutdown...probably the best bet. Because people can't be trusted to just do good things. 
Soldier likes to play devil's advocate and told me that Obama's shutdown was very similar; he wasn't backing down and said he'd keep the government shut until his healthcare plan went through. But at least (in my opinion), Obama was fighting for something helpful and good. Trump is...*sigh*...fuck...he's just awful. He's either too self absorbed or too fucking stupid to think about the big picture. Will a wall actually do anything? I'm gonna be honest, I haven't actually looked into it, but people on my FB say that the research says walls don't fucking work and most of the drugs are coming in by plane. 
Okay, sorry, I don't want to get super political. It's just a tiny bit terrifying that we're on one income, about to close on our house, and OH WAIT ACTUALLY HAVE NO INCOME. What's even worse overall is, out of the hundreds of thousands of people not getting paid, Soldier and I are doing great in the grand scheme. We have plenty of money in savings and very supportive parents if we need help. I can't imagine how awful it is for people who are living paycheck to paycheck or don't have savings to tide them over. It's all fucking bullshit. Alright. Bottom line of all this is I should get a job. 
Other bad part? It's still scary. I have faith that things will work out the way they're supposed to, I think the area is big enough that I'll be able to find something I'll really find fulfillment in. But...AHHHHHH. For some reason I can't shake the feeling that I'm begging when I'm looking for a job. And I lose ALL confidence. I know deep down that I have good skills and experience. So what the fuck?! Stop it, Laura! 

Alright alright, that's enough of that. What else? Have I told you all that I'm in physical therapy? I'm still not sold on my new rheumatologist (which google still says isn't a word), but she did thankfully start me on this. I honestly thought I would just have to deal with my legs being swollen every day, or have to be on chemo drugs, but this is actually working! Turns out my sluggish life in Juneau took a toll and my knees just need some muscle around them. Once I get all that back...maybe I can run regularly again, and maybe, eventually, I'll be able to stop stabbing myself with drugs. 

Becaaauuuse, now I have eczema. Is it permanent? Is it a consequence of this abominable apartment? Is it a side effect of medication that wipes out my immune system? WHO FUCKING KNOWS. I've searched everything I could think of, and all I've come up with is "oh it's this skin thing that sometime happens...and it might continue or it might not byeee."  Father in law said he could call in a prescription for me and I haven't taken him up on it...because I feel bad bothering him? What is wrong with me?! 
But this issue has gotten me back on thinking: when you have a chronic illness you don't really own your body anymore. Which almost means you don't own your self. Because you have to give your body up to tests, and medications, and side effects, and whatever the illness makes of all that or feels like doing that day. And all of that shit takes a toll on your mind. And when your body and mind are consumed by the illness, what else do you have? OH. AND. Today I got a bill for over $400 for blood work and X-rays ordered by the rheumatologist. THANK YOU, HEALTHCARE. Especially when we're furloughed. I've gotten used to cooperating with whatever test is needed for my care, but my insurance is still like "OH, OH GOSH. WHAT'S HAPPENING?! DO WE NEED THIS? IS THIS NECESSARY? Either way, can we make someone else pay for it?" 
BUT LET'S NOT CHANGE ANYTHING. THIS IS GREAT. 

Okay, okay. I'm sorry. There are many things I've been keeping in. Clearly I need to find a job so I have a purpose and I stop just getting angry at...stuff. For those of you who are more into the book stuff, I'm working on it. I've been feeling self-induced pressure to step up my game. So I will. Maaaybe. 

Time to wrap it up! It's still a bit of a struggle here; it's not small enough for the closeness of Juneau or near enough to be with our actual family and friends. There are definitely more good points than bad, I'm just feeling a little down. But I know it will all work out. 

I'm hoping to have my next book "review" out soonish, and I've ordered the new ones. You know I'll keep you updated on what else is happening. 
Umm...I can't really think of a good way to end this one. Soo...okay byeeee! 

196 Books: Burkina Faso

The Parachute Drop by Norbert Zongo

Here's Burkina Faso:

And here's our description:
Norbert Zongo was Burkina Faso's most respected journalist before his politically motivated murder in 1998. As an editor of the newspaper l'Indépendent, Zongo wrote under the pen name of Henri Segbo, frequently attacking governmental crime and impunity, or what he called "mobutuization," after the notoriously corrupt Zairean dictator Mobutu Sese Seko. A fierce advocate of free-speech, Zongo openly criticized President Blaise Compaoré's long reign of terror, extortion, and impunity in Burkina Faso. After surviving several attempts on his life, Zongo was killed along with his brother Yembi Ernest and two other traveling companions when his car was fire-bombed by members of Compaoré's presidential guard. Zongo's death was followed by an extreme period of political unrest in Burkina Faso, which threatened to destabilize the Compaoré regime. Zongo's novel The Parachute Drop is an eerily prophetic narrative foretelling many of the events that preceded his death. His novel shows how a fictional West African nation named Watinbow is "mobutuized" by a succession of tyrants, foreign advisors, and external financial agents. President Gouama, a man of demonic energy, malice, and greed, is toppled in a coup d'état and must now confront the people of Watinbow, whom he has betrayed. The Parachute Drop provides rare insight into the psychology of a corrupt African leader. For those hoping to understand the nightmare of contemporary African politics, Zongo's novel is an excellent place to begin.

So I just realized that this one should have come before Burundi. Sorry, guys. While we're in this crappy apartment I just kind of have the books in a pile instead of in a nice bookcase, and I grabbed them in the wrong order. 


I'm so pleased with all of the awesome books that I've read with this challenge! This one was captivating without having to have a ton of action or apprehension. I mean, of course it was dramatic and it obviously kept me wanting to read it. But I did see one review that said it was funny, which I totally disagree with. My guess is they found the deposed president's weakness and uselessness funny, but I found it pathetic. These people get into power by being charismatic but are ultimately incompetent (looking at you, Trump), and can't understand why the people don't appreciate this. Although at the end, with the new regime, I had to wonder if it was the same thing happening over again. (I'm beginning to feel like I'm horrible at deep reading comprehension...I know, I should have figured that out long ago).

This story moved me to read a bit more into the country and the author, which I should maybe be doing with all of them, but oh well. Definitely, definitely check this book out. It's not a very long read, and it shows so many extremes of this fictional country. You see the absurdly rich who are greedy and shallow, the incredibly poor who are generous to a fault, the country's former leader who can barely take care of himself, the men who help him that had formerly been in his prison, and the betrayal by people he thought were his friends.  

Also, after reading more about the author, he was a super badass! He basically gave a big Fuck You to the corrupt government and didn't stop even when his life was threatened. And then after he was killed his wife kept it going. What amazing people. 

196 Books: Burundi

Baho! by Roland Rugero


Burundi is a small country in Africa:

And here's the description:

Baho! is a novel by Roland Rugero published in France in 2012, and translated into English by Christopher Schaefer in 2015. It is the first Burundian novel to be translated into English. The story is set in the fictional village of Hariho, following a young mute boy named Nyamuragi. When his attempts to find a bathroom are misunderstood as sexual advances, Nyamuragi finds himself voiceless due both to his disability and the hasty persecution of his wrongful convictions.

Taking place after the events of the Burundian genocides, Baho! grapples with many sociocultural themes and arguments that deal with Burundi's recent problems with cultural identity. As a result, the novel employs many Burundian cultural elements including Kirundi proverbs. Despite its heavy involvement in Burundian culture and history, the novel does not discuss ethnical differences between characters. Baho! serves to instruct Burundi on how it can successfully grow as a culture and nation.

I know that's a bit more than I usually include for the description, but it said (a lot more eloquently) the things I was thinking as I was reading. This was a really short book, less than 100 pages. It also made me think of the Me Too environment that's happening right now. As much as I hate to admit, it made me sympathize a little bit with the accused...which was probably the point. I mean things were made much more extreme by the boy being mute and not having the means to explain anything. Then it's exacerbated by nobody trying to get his side of the story. 

It was kind of great: this rather short story was told in a way to make me look at myself and my thoughts in today's current climate. Though it's not as extreme as beating and trying to hang the accused, there's a bit of a mob mentality with accusations of sexual impropriety and not wanting to let the accused say anything, or not believing what they do say. Do these people deserve the benefit of the doubt, or compassion? Well, I don't know. All I know is this one made me think.  

196 Books: Bulgaria

Street without a Name by Kapka Kassabova

Bulgaria is on the Eastern side of the EU:

And here's the description of the book:
Kassabova was born in Sofia, Bulgaria and grew up under the drab, muddy, grey mantle of one of communism’s most mindlessly authoritarian regimes. Escaping with her family as soon as possible after the collapse of the Berlin Wall, she lived in Britain, New Zealand, and Argentina, and several other places. But when Bulgaria was formally inducted to the European Union she decided it was time to return to the home she had spent most of her life trying to escape. What she found was a country languishing under the strain of transition. This two-part memoir of Kapka’s childhood and return explains life on the other side of the Iron Curtain.

With the getting ready to move, moving, and settling in the new place, it took me way too long to read this one; especially considering how much I enjoyed it. 
Things seem to be getting crazier and crazier here in the US, but it's still devastating to read about the tragic history in the older parts of the world (you know...basically everywhere else). 

The whole big communist era in Europe makes me so sad; that people living there were kept in the dark and told that the rest of the world was so awful. And why? I mean, I know why, but WHY? These poor people had next to nothing and had no way of bettering themselves. So this family lives in various places throughout the world just to get a better life. It was so interesting and heartbreaking to read as the author travels back to her home country and just feels like an outsider everywhere she goes, home or foreign. 

Also, people in Europe have done some real awful shit to each other. And, sorry, but Turkey's been the jerk in more than one of the books I've read so far. GET IT TOGETHER TURKEY. AND EVERYONE ELSE. STOP BEING JERKS. 

On the other hand, it was interesting to hear about all the different places she went, things she saw, and people she met. On top of it, Kassabova has such an incredibly inviting writing style. It honestly felt a lot like a friend just telling you stories. So definitely check this one out, it's a great read. 

On another note, I've been considering putting ads back on here. Not because I want to annoy you guys, but because I have no job and I feel useless. Sooo...I guess that might be coming. 

Back in the Midwest

Growing pains.

I looked up a few quotes about transition for the subtitle for this one; there were a few I liked but they didn't really cover it. I knew this change would be a little difficult, but it's getting the better of me.
I cannot say enough how wonderful Soldier has been with this. He's encouraged me with all the newness but he doesn't really push. He has a lot more confidence in me than I do. He bought me a fancy car, has no problem with any money I spend, and thinks I'm worth a lot of money as an employee.

So...begin. The place we're living isn't really conducive to spirit and motivation. I'm pretty sure it hasn't been updated since the 70s or 80s and has a slight lingering smell of old cigarettes. It's technically furnished but we keep having to buy stuff: a mixer, a vacuum, dish towels, hangers. Maybe those things aren't supposed to be included, but I kind of thought they would.
I've also been letting the anxiety get to me...a couple of days ago I tried a different grocery store and almost thought I was going to have a panic attack in the middle of the place. Also most of my professional work clothes don't fit, which also doesn't help. Everyone still thinks I'm "small," but I'm not at a weight I'm comfortable with.

Transition! YAY!

Soldier and I were trying to figure out when we would be able to head up and visit our families, and all of a sudden he said, "Just go." And I realized that I could. So I did. I wanted to go for a chance to recharge, and to connect with a friend to brainstorm about job searching. I forgot what it was like to look for a job in a bigger city. (Is there a word for nepotism that isn't actual family? Just that "it's not what you know, it's who you know" thing? Anyway, that.) Anyway I had a nice time with some of my family and got a lot of good ideas for my search. But then I got back and kind of deflated.
This week I've tried to force myself to do things. I found a few jobs that I'm really interested in and tomorrow I'm going to go to the job center and get a nice new interview outfit. Hopefully that'll help. Yesterday I made myself finish up my resume and today I really figured out which jobs I want to apply for...it's a start I guess.

So...send me confident thoughts, I guess. As exciting as it is to be back in a place that has all sorts of stores, restaurants, and entertainment...it's also real scary for an introvert. It's hard to start completely from scratch, even if you know what you're getting into.

I've also pushed Soldier into going back to Mass. I enjoy it, and a woman we sat next encouraged me to join the choir and said she was going to tell the choir director about me. It is something I would like to get back into...if I can have the guts to ask for it. Ugh. Anxiety is such a bitch.

And I guess that's it for the highlights. It'll feel a lot better when we have our own house and I have a job, but this is definitely a start. I do miss the beauty and familiarity of Juneau though. And absolutely some of the people. I know that once I get used to it and feel *slightly* less pressure I'll really be able to enjoy this new adventure.