Keeruline on leida sobivaid sõnu andmaks adekvaatset pilti kolmest
välitööpäevast kellelegi, kes ise kohal ei viibinud. Seda enam, et iga
ettevõetud teekäänak ning kohtutud inimene mõjus kui uus õpitud sõnana võõras
keeles, mis tükk-tüki haaval omandades üha mõistetavamaks muutub. Aga püüan
maalida väikesi pilte ning loodan, et suudan neid edasi andes nähtu vastu
ausaks jääda.
It's a challenge, to try painting an adequate picture of the three field days for someone who was not there. The snippets of experience I gained now seem like your average holiday photos: full of vibrance for the person behind the camera, but diluted to near irrelevance for the distant viewer. Even more so, as every turn in the road and every person met felt like learning a new word in a foreign language slowly unraveling its secrets. But I will present here a few images from the road, hoping I have done justice to the people and situations in them.
It's a challenge, to try painting an adequate picture of the three field days for someone who was not there. The snippets of experience I gained now seem like your average holiday photos: full of vibrance for the person behind the camera, but diluted to near irrelevance for the distant viewer. Even more so, as every turn in the road and every person met felt like learning a new word in a foreign language slowly unraveling its secrets. But I will present here a few images from the road, hoping I have done justice to the people and situations in them.
Batibo asub minu elukohast Bamendast napi tunniajase
autosõidu kaugusel. Kuigi piirkonna peaarsti sõnul on sealsed tingimused
tervise, vaesuse ja muude näitajate poolest võrreldavad Bamendaga, siis juba
siin muutub maastikupilt minu jaoks võõraks. Pöörame Angie suunas – üks kahest
Batibo külast – sillutatult maanteelt kõrvale ning ülejäänud päevad kulgeme Briani
oskuslikul juhtimisel mööda rehvisügavuste vagudega pinnaseteid. Aafrika
olematud teeolud on ilmselt üheks mandri äratuntavaimaks omaduseks; ei ole aga
vaja pikalt mõelda, miks see nii on.
It's an hour's drive to Batibo from where I live in Bamenda. While the district health officer claims its statistics on poverty, health and other issues to be comparable with those of Bamenda, the landscape here is already alien to me. We turn off from the paved highway towards Angie - one of two villages in Batibo - and spend the following field days on dirt tracks with grooves as deep as the tires on the car Brian so expertly guides through the reddish mud. The non-existent road conditions of Africa are probably among the most recognisable features of the continent; there is no mystery as to why that is so.
It's an hour's drive to Batibo from where I live in Bamenda. While the district health officer claims its statistics on poverty, health and other issues to be comparable with those of Bamenda, the landscape here is already alien to me. We turn off from the paved highway towards Angie - one of two villages in Batibo - and spend the following field days on dirt tracks with grooves as deep as the tires on the car Brian so expertly guides through the reddish mud. The non-existent road conditions of Africa are probably among the most recognisable features of the continent; there is no mystery as to why that is so.
Kolmekuune vihmaperiood oma igapäevaste valangutega ei näita
vähimatki halastust üle poriste küngaste kulgevate radade. Mõeldamatu oleks
neid enne kuivust uuesti täitma hakata, ning isegi siis ei oleks hädavajalikku
kruusa või killustikku lihtsalt kusagilt võtta. Nagu ka Eesti ääremaadel,
veereb rataste all kohalike võimuesindajate lihtlabane puudus rahast ja
tahtmisest. Kui aga küsida kohalike käest nende sissetulekut enim mõjutavate
tegurite kohta, on taristu puudumine neist üks peamisi. Isegi kõige parema
äriplaaniga maaomanik või ettevõtja on määratud läbikukkumisele, kui puudub
igasugune tõsiseltvõetav ühendus turgude ja tarbijatega. Nii ongi kõik
maanteedelt kõrvale jääv mootorrataste ning väiketalunike pärusmaa – kuigi ehk
kõige ootamatuma pildina kohtusime kusagil vihmametsavõsas autoga mudas
püherdades õllekaste vedavat, Guiness’i
kirjadega pick-up’i. Vähemalt kellegi
prioriteedid on paigas.
The daily downpour of the rain season shows no mercy to the countless tracks climbing steep and muddy hills. Even if gravel or rubble were readily available, there would be simply no point in repairing the rain damage before the clouds close up again in three months time - and even then there would be the question of labourers and the funds to keep them. As with so many other challenges faced by the people of Batibo - and Cameroon -, what it ultimately comes down to are the resources and willingness of local authorities. Both, unfortunately, are in short supply.
When you ask locals about the main obstacles to increasing their incomes, the lack of any noteworthy infrastructure is at the fore. The plans and ambitions of even the most dedicated landowners or businessmen are doomed to fail without decent access to markets and consumers. There is little wealth to be made in growing crops for sale to your immediate neighbours, who are all doing pretty much the same as you. Thus it is that the vast expanses away from paved highways are the domain of motorbikes and small-scale agriculturalists - even though we happened upon a sign of progress in the form of a Guiness pick-up truck with beer crates, while engaged in some serious off-road fun on our way through the rain forest.
The daily downpour of the rain season shows no mercy to the countless tracks climbing steep and muddy hills. Even if gravel or rubble were readily available, there would be simply no point in repairing the rain damage before the clouds close up again in three months time - and even then there would be the question of labourers and the funds to keep them. As with so many other challenges faced by the people of Batibo - and Cameroon -, what it ultimately comes down to are the resources and willingness of local authorities. Both, unfortunately, are in short supply.
When you ask locals about the main obstacles to increasing their incomes, the lack of any noteworthy infrastructure is at the fore. The plans and ambitions of even the most dedicated landowners or businessmen are doomed to fail without decent access to markets and consumers. There is little wealth to be made in growing crops for sale to your immediate neighbours, who are all doing pretty much the same as you. Thus it is that the vast expanses away from paved highways are the domain of motorbikes and small-scale agriculturalists - even though we happened upon a sign of progress in the form of a Guiness pick-up truck with beer crates, while engaged in some serious off-road fun on our way through the rain forest.
Koos linnamüraga on kadunud betoonehitised ning vihmametsa
rohelusest vaatavad vastu suitsuste ukseavadega savitellismajad. Lääne inimese
pilguga ei ole siin aga midagi teha; meie võrdluses näekski ainult seda, mis on
teisiti kui meil. Ma ei tea, mida tähendab siinsete inimeste jaoks vaesus. Meid
koheldakse viisaka sõbralikkusega; esimese maja juures oma kohaleolule
põhjendust andes jõuab mööduda ehk vaid hetk, kui üks väike poiss on tooliga
kusagilt tagasi jooksnud ning nihutab selle aukartlikult mulle istumiseks selja
taha. See kordub eranditult igas majapidamises: külalistele tuuakse parimad
istumisalused, olgu selleks siis vähe kobedam nikerdatud tool või kehvemas
peres logisev taburet, pererahvas ise puupakkudel istumas. Meid seisma jätta ei
tohi, kasvõi hetkekski.
No more grey of the urban concrete; no incessant sounds of taxi horns and engines buzzing. Instead, clay-brick houses with their smoke-blackened doorways greet us from the greenery of the jungle. The perspective of a Westerner has outlived its usefulness here; comparison with 'home' would only show differences, not substance of the 'here' and 'now'. I cannot guess what poverty means for the people we meet. We are treated with polite friendliness. At the first house, a small boy returns from somewhere with a chair and cautiously nudges it closer for me to sit on. A gesture that finds repetition in every household. No matter whether it's chairs of a more decent sort or wobbly stools, guests are given the best seats in the house. Sometimes that means the host has nothing but a thicker log to sit on. We are not allowed to be left standing, not even for a moment.
No more grey of the urban concrete; no incessant sounds of taxi horns and engines buzzing. Instead, clay-brick houses with their smoke-blackened doorways greet us from the greenery of the jungle. The perspective of a Westerner has outlived its usefulness here; comparison with 'home' would only show differences, not substance of the 'here' and 'now'. I cannot guess what poverty means for the people we meet. We are treated with polite friendliness. At the first house, a small boy returns from somewhere with a chair and cautiously nudges it closer for me to sit on. A gesture that finds repetition in every household. No matter whether it's chairs of a more decent sort or wobbly stools, guests are given the best seats in the house. Sometimes that means the host has nothing but a thicker log to sit on. We are not allowed to be left standing, not even for a moment.
Ettevalmistusest hoolimata tuleb üllatusena esimese ema
segadus, kui tema lapse vanust küsime. Ta ütleb nädalad, kuid sünnikuupäev selle
tähendusetuses ei ole tal meeles. Seitse klassi lõpetamata haridust ning elu
õemehe majapidamises. Ma ei näe siin vaesust, vaid võimatust.
Esimesel Eesti GLENide kokkusaamisel millalgi aasta külmemal
poolel laskusime ühe teise vabatahtlikuga üsna tulisesse vaidlusse: tema
seisukohal, et tugeva tahtmise ning pühendunud tööga on võimalik ükskõik kui
piiratud tingimustest tulles endale meelepärane elu luua. Ehk ongi, kuid nende
erandite saatus on määratud rohkem juhusest kui lihtsast valemist „peab vaid piisavalt
pingutama“.
Vastasel juhul kirjutaksime, igasuguse enesekriitikata,
rumalateks ja saamatuteks – ning oma saatust väärivaks – suure osa inimkonnast,
kelle ainsaks kuriteoks on olnud jääda kaotajaks suurel sünnikoha loteriil.
Despite my mental preparation, it comes as a strange surprise when the first mother struggles to remember the birth date of her child. She gives us the months and weeks; exactness of dates has no relevance in this daily life. Seven years of unfinished education and a life in brother-in-law's household. It is not poverty I see here, it's the lack of options.
During the first meeting of Estonian GLENnies in the distant winter, I got into a heated argument with another volunteer. He maintained that it takes nothing else but a strong will and dedication to escape the constraints of circumstances no matter how difficult. Perhaps that is so for some few, brilliant exceptions, but their fortunes are shaped more by chance than a simple formula of "you just need to work harder".
For otherwise we would brand helpless and stupid - and deserving of their faith - the majority of the human stock, whose only crime has been to lose at the great lottery of birth.
Despite my mental preparation, it comes as a strange surprise when the first mother struggles to remember the birth date of her child. She gives us the months and weeks; exactness of dates has no relevance in this daily life. Seven years of unfinished education and a life in brother-in-law's household. It is not poverty I see here, it's the lack of options.
During the first meeting of Estonian GLENnies in the distant winter, I got into a heated argument with another volunteer. He maintained that it takes nothing else but a strong will and dedication to escape the constraints of circumstances no matter how difficult. Perhaps that is so for some few, brilliant exceptions, but their fortunes are shaped more by chance than a simple formula of "you just need to work harder".
For otherwise we would brand helpless and stupid - and deserving of their faith - the majority of the human stock, whose only crime has been to lose at the great lottery of birth.
Mida sa teeksid naisena ühiskonnas, kus sinu nõusolek oma
keha jagamiseks on kõike muud kui vajalik – ning see ongi ainus reaalsus, mida kunagi
kogenud oled? Mida sa teeksid vastumeelselt rasedana, kui lapse isaks loetakse
vaid seda abielusõrmusega kinnitanu? Mida sa tunneksid, kui üks oma
privileegidest puhevil Eesti noor su saatuses sind ennast süüdistab?
What would do in a society where as a woman your consent to share your body is nothing but irrelevant - and such is the only reality you have ever known? What would you do if pregnant against your will, and the father is only considered as such if agreeing to marriage? How would you feel if blamed for your own misfortunes by some young Estonian, puffed up on his own privileges?
What would do in a society where as a woman your consent to share your body is nothing but irrelevant - and such is the only reality you have ever known? What would you do if pregnant against your will, and the father is only considered as such if agreeing to marriage? How would you feel if blamed for your own misfortunes by some young Estonian, puffed up on his own privileges?
Linda küsitleb emasid (kuna minu pidgin’i-sõnavara võib ühe käe sõrmedel lugeda) ning mina kaalun ja
mõõdan lapsi – või vähemalt püüan seal, kus need mu läheduses pisaraid pritsides
karjuma ei hakka. Enamus on vaiksed ja kuulekad – isegi kui veidike hämmingus,
et mida need imelikud onud ja tädi temaga teevad –, kuid mitme jaoks toome
esile traumaatilisi mälestusi arstidest ja süstidest. Ühel või teisel moel on
aga nii lapsed kui vanemad harjunud, et järjekordsed võõrad neid mõõta,
küsitleda või nõelaga torkida tahavad.
Linda interviews the mothers (as my vocabulary of pidgin can be counted on one hand) and I take the weights and measures of the children - at least when they do not burst into tear-soaked screams from my approaching them. Most are quiet and compliant - even if slightly confused as to what these strange people are doing to them -, but for many we embody traumatic experiences with doctors and injections. One way or the other, both children and their parents are used to another bunch of strangers wanting to measure, question, or poke them with needles.
Linda interviews the mothers (as my vocabulary of pidgin can be counted on one hand) and I take the weights and measures of the children - at least when they do not burst into tear-soaked screams from my approaching them. Most are quiet and compliant - even if slightly confused as to what these strange people are doing to them -, but for many we embody traumatic experiences with doctors and injections. One way or the other, both children and their parents are used to another bunch of strangers wanting to measure, question, or poke them with needles.
Majade ukse- ja aknapiidad kannavad erinevas kulumisastmes
lugematuid kriidiseid koode, mis tähistavad kunagisi vaktsineerimiskampaaniaid
või kellegi uuringuid. Linda kritseldab neile lisanduseks meie omapoolse
panuse. Oleme järjekordsed ametnikud, kes tulevad oma suurte mõtetega ning
lähevad siis uuesti ära, et vääramatu kindlusega järjekordsete küsituslehti
viibutavate inimeste näol kunagi uuesti tulla. Elu külades aga kulgeb sellest
muutumatult edasi.
The doors and window-frames are covered with chalk marks in various stages of erosion - decaying signs of old vaccination campaigns or someone's surveys. Linda scribbles our own personal addition to their midst. We are yet another group of strangers, coming here with their big ideas only to disappear into yesterday and memory - until others come, brandishing yet new stacks of questionnaires. Meanwhile, life in the villages goes on. Unaffected.
The doors and window-frames are covered with chalk marks in various stages of erosion - decaying signs of old vaccination campaigns or someone's surveys. Linda scribbles our own personal addition to their midst. We are yet another group of strangers, coming here with their big ideas only to disappear into yesterday and memory - until others come, brandishing yet new stacks of questionnaires. Meanwhile, life in the villages goes on. Unaffected.