about ISA

this is me, mohamad. 2008. i wanted to interrupt for a bit. a little hindsight i'd like to share. about something that came up in passing in my previous post, but should be addressed. it's about ISA, my old school.

honestly, i hesitated in hyperlinking to ISA's wikipedia page. even mentioning the school entirely. but i did. it's not that i think the wikipedia page is biased. though most everything about the school in the news, from 2001 through today, has been (see the "Controversy" or "References" sections in ISA's wikipedia entry). not just biased... but xenophobic, at best. and, at worst, racist. i guess that's why i wasn't sure if i wanted to go there.

in fact, i wasn't even sure if it was an important part of this story... of my being in cameroon. of peace and freedom. and of presence. but it actually is. much of this is about how "an Arab Muslim boy who grew up in America came to understand himself (and the world) more fully in Central Africa," right? well, ISA is a big part of how this Arab Muslim boy grew up in America.

it's interesting to note, if it hasn't already become an obvious theme, that one of my struggles in cameroon was coming to terms with my American identity. i remember thinking, during training in Babadjou, that i'd never felt as American in my life as i did in cameroon. somehow i'd taken that for granted growing up in America, even in my cross-cultural bubble of a school (see our curriculum)... and even through 4 years of college and a couple years of work in the US. it wasn't until i really had to deal with a 3rd culture in my life – cameroonian – that this became most apparent.

in some ways, i was more like a cameroonian than an american... especially if those cameroonians happened to be muslim. but even if they weren't, many of my cameroonian friends and colleagues noticed these similarities. particularly when my very arab mother came to visit. but both they and i also noticed that, in many more ways, i was unlike them (and my mother, for that matter) and more like my american compatriots. this was my arab muslim american hybrid identity. contrapuntal, as Edward Said so melodically put it.

but back to ISA... the cultural bubble where – though they didn't teach us music, much to my younger brother Offendum's offense – one or two of the independent melodic lines of my contrapuntal perspective (the arab muslim, that is) were nurtured. the only thing that was (is?) really wrong with ISA, as far as i was concerned, was that it didn't explicitly teach this arab muslim boy that he was also growing up american. because he was.

so i had to wait to learn that – i mean really learn that – in cameroon. in many ways, and in hindsight, i'm thankful for that delay. thankful b/c now i get to tell this story... and b/c i'm really happy with where this story is taking me. so i give thanks.

family OK

i spoke to my family the other day, in Bamenda. all is well. they, too, were/are a little freaked out by the situations in NYC and DC. this was also the first time i spoke to my niece and nephew since i left home. i miss them.

at first it was a little strange on the phone... it takes a 7 and 9-year old a minute or two to “get going.” i myself was at a loss for words... wanted to just reach inside the phone and hug them! it was good talking to them.

they’re a little anxious b/c their old school shut down and now they’re moving to a new one. a week into the term. they were at my old school... the Islamic Saudi Academy (ISA). the Saudi Embassy decided it was too risky to keep the institution open, i guess. not sure what’ll happen with all the students and teachers??? what to say? except c’est la vie.

enough about all that.. even thinking about what’s going on back home disturbs me. i’ve yet to see photos or footage of the attacks. would rather not have those images in my head. anyway... i say Natalie and Kay back in Bamenda. good to see them. i was telling Kay how i miss ALL you guys. we wondered what you were up to?

is this all still an exercise in patience (in the name of cross-culture, of course) for you all, as well? wow!... i hope that didn’t come off as bitter or negative as it sounded. b/c i’m not at all. all is well. can’t wait to see all of you. peace.

aho!
Mohamad
9/16/2001
Wum

9/11... how is everyone?

...i’m not sure what to say??? i feel compelled to write b/c it’s tuesday night. now, i know it’s not a must that we write every tuesday. i am thinking of you all, though. wondering how your 1st days at school went. what subjects you’re teaching. how many hours. indeed, how well you’ve settled in so far.

i can picture us—well, not “picture" b/c it’s not so much seeing as much as sensing—all over these 3 provinces [NW, SW and West], each up to their respective quelque chose, if you will. i’m also wondering how you all are reacting to the news. i was tuned to the radio ALL afternoon. but there’s only so much one can take.

i don’t want to hear anymore. i don’t want to turn on the radio... but i know i will have to soon. i was, and still am, confused and concerned... shocked and disturbed, of course. i am having a hard time imagining the scale at which all this is happening back home. the poor people.

there were chills up and down my spine every time i heard an “eye-witness” report/testimony. there were so emotional. and the melodramatic BBC anchors didn’t help... “a terrorist attack on America.” God, i hope everyone back home is well... for all of us. the strangest thing for me here is that this really isn’t news to anyone but me... so i’m thinking of you all.

aho!
Mohamad
9/11/2001
Wum

walking in wum

OK... so it’s been 2 weeks without Peace and Freedom. the formal session, that is. i’ve been procrastinating with starting this journal. i’ve been in Wum for almost a full week. it’s nice here. i like it here. the drive “up” from Bamenda was gorgeous. i say “up” but it may well have been down, geographically speaking. into Menchum Valley. Kay and Adam came along for the ride. we stopped at Menchum Falls. a spectacular site.

back to Wum. it’s small. not too small. decent market. post office. several schools. a mosque! very excited about that. there are many muslims here. many from the North. some from Nigeria. i guess they’re really all the same people [i.e. tribe] regardless of the border b/w the 2 nations. generally speaking, the people in Wum are very kind. nothing but “you are welcome here” and “we are together” all around.

my house is big. 3 bedrooms. electricity and running water. it’s actually much too big for me. there’s another apartment next door. the building is a duplex, so to speak. now, either my vice principal will be living there or, as rumor has it, another PCV. yup, there may be an Agro-forester here in Wum come early next year. that would be something!

enough about Wum. about me... like i said, i’m happy here. i guess i can say i can see myself being happy here for 2 years. no problem. i hesitate though b/c i know that those lows come right after you say something like that. but, seriously, all is well. it’s early, i know.

today i took a stroll through Wum. just promenading, if you will. found myself up on top of a hill where the Baptist Church stands. great spot. amazing view. of Wum and the surrounding landscape. it was late afternoon and the sun was out but not hot. there was a soft breeze. enough to make the trees sway and leaves rustle... i love that.

i walked back through town and the streets were calm and quiet. people around, but not many. there was music, too. for the 1st time in a long time i’ve felt extremely at peace and serene here where i am. i’ve had a couple of those moments here in Wum. maybe it’s the place. the environment. maybe it’s finally being out of training and having time to think and reflect. time to take a stroll through the town and just relax.

whatever it is, i’m down with it. totally. again, it’s still early. things may get busy with school starting. even hectic at times. i’ll just try to remember to relax. be patient. with myself as well as others. and find / go to more of my “happy places.” like that spot on top of the hill by the Baptist Church.

aho!
Mohamad
9/4/2001
Wum

PFJ?

PFJ = Peace and Freedom Journal. i mentioned these 'traveling' journals when i first described the sessions our training group started to hold in Babadjou during stage. after we left to our respective posts we couldn't meet every tuesday night, like we did in training. so we decided we'd share thoughts in our journals and then exchange journals every time we met.

i've been wondering how to incorporate these into the flow and timeline of my own journal entries, now at January 2nd, 2002... as you can see in the post below, the PFJ entries start back at September 4th, 2001. so i took the opportunity of answering my own rhetorical question (wussai peace and freedom dey?) to start from the beginning.

think of it as a flashback... then a flash-forward! a story within a story, if you will. there are about 35 entries in my PFJ that i'd like to share, from 9/4/2001 through 11/12/2002. all my own, b/c i won't be posting the entries my fellow volunteers shared in my journal (about the same number as i have) when it was in their possession.

finally, i've got a few more journal entries out there in PFJs that are no longer in my possession... my stage-mates' PFJs, that is. perhaps we'll all get together and talk (or blog) about it one day. another peace and freedom session. aho!

peace & freedom, the title

a word or two about the title of our little therapy session, as i often [endearingly] described it in the early days. at 1st, i couldn’t stand the name, "Peace and Freedom." it felt kinda cheesy. a little corny and melodramatic, i guess.

it wasn’t until i heard the phrase used in a sentence that i understood. “...for your own peace and freedom.” ahhh! i get it now. for my own peace and freedom. that’s where it comes from. i believe Robert is the 1st person i heard use it in context. then Kristen.

needless to say the title grew on me. fast. Peace and Freedom. it’s got a ring to it now. they mean so much, too. those 2 words. they mean peace and freedom in the most profound, inner sense. my own peace and freedom. our own peace and freedom.

Mohamad
9/4/2001
Wum

wussai peace & freedom dey?

 
1/2/2002: continued...
anywho... today’s been a busy day at Chez Chakaki. our 1st guests were the kids for the drawing lessons. then (2nd) Ali-Festus [from Heifer International] and i sat and talked plants for a bit. Gilbert the carpenter (3rd) came to install a few things and take a few things... mama's been putting him to work! then (4th) the guys from Upkwa (Mu’aath, Ali, Adam, Abubakr and Sule) came for lunch.

before the meal was over (5th), Justine and the HM [Head Mistress] of the Nursery School had joined us. how mama pulled off that magical meal, i don't know! now (6th) Apollo the plumber is in the bathroom installing the shower... and breaking more than a few tiles, too. Oh!... and (7th) Paul and his siblings ducked in for a second or 2 to bid adieu to mama before they left.

mama is at my principal’s house now (8th). that’s the reason Justine came here in the 1st place. to tell us that the principal is leaving tomorrow. i didn’t go on account of waiting for Apollo and Gilbert. don’t know if Gilbert will show and Apollo is doing more harm than good at the moment.

i was supposed to clean up after our midday meal, but Apollo had to cut the water... so the place is just a mess. kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedrooms. guess we’ll be cleaning up tonight. but if Gilbert doesn’t show and i know Apollo won’t be finished...

Omaru and his mom are coming to visit tomorrow (9th). the HM of the Nursery School wants to pass by again (10th)... Friday morning we clean the mosque, prayer, then Akimje’s place (11th). not to mention having to pass and greet Kenneth (12th). and finally, leaving at 5am Saturday morning. Lord! wussai my Peace & Freedom dey? [where is my Peace & Freedom?]