Arriving in Yoko

The family that finished the translation, the Maxeys, lived in this house, owned by Mr. Taaly, who welcomed all their rowdy Americans guests in for a couple days. :) Here we've taken over the living room. There was a small contigent both from my parents' organization and from their church.
Mr. Taaly and Pere Michel, the French Catholic priest who spent 27 years serving in Yoko and is a good friend of my family, comparing tummies.

Yoko is built along hill ridges (very defensible in old days), and the surrounding country is beautiful.
The house we lived in when I was little!
I stopped by the district hospital and met with the health officer there for awhile. He was very nice, answered my questions, and even printed(!) the last three months worth of statistics they send in every month - population, cases of malaria, hospitalised cases of malaria, etc. - which I found very interesting!!
Here is the Lutheran church - which we went to. It was the only Protestant church.My dad and a man they taught to type in the 1970s - he since got a government job, served 19 years, and is happy to have a pension now that he's retired!The Norwegian mission house we used to stay in at Christmas - a little worse for the wear. All of my dream houses incorporate some element of this architecture.The Saturday noon meal for all the invited guests, Cameroonian and otherwise, took place at the Catholic mission. Yummy Cameroonian food!!In the afternoon, we stopped by the highschool where the women were cooking the evening meal, and brought them 2.5 gallons of cooking oil. :) Many had known me well, and posed for a picture with them. When I was little, the Vute figured out that I had been conceived in Yoko, and nicknamed me Yoko. I enjoyed being called by my old nickname. It's incredibly meaningful to me