1. My fufu corn of choice was prepared by rose, this woman here. She only spoke pidgin English and Banso, her tribal language.

2. In the middle of my village Bankim, my two friends, doris and julita sold oranges (when in season, of course). The Cameroonian way of eating oranges is to peel off the outer layer of the skin, lop off the top, and then you can squeeze fresh orange juice right into your mouth, spitting seeds left and right. 
 
3. One of my best friends in village, Mr. Mkwati Aleutius. This guy is well-read (note the copy of Animal Farm on the table), which is amazing in a country with no bookstores. He grows habanero peppers and sells medicine to make a living. He's hiv-positive.
 
4. The Mbororo familes had homesteads like this. we had to hike pretty far to get here.
 
5. These women kept me sane during my service. It's tough to have female friends in Cameroon because platonic friendships simply do not exist. But hey, these women were catholic sisters, so it was nice to be able to hang out with them, not worrying about the consequences.

6. So the chief of Banyo, a village north of Bankim, keeps a personal army on the side. He does a large demonstration for celebrations.

7. Some of his ragtag soldiers. I asked the chief about security issues in the area once, to which he replied "none, i've taken care of all the bandits." He then showed me a stack of pictures of dead bodies - people he'd had killed.

8. And there he is, the chief himself. He's quite well-educated, and even lived in the US for a while.

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