When I went to bed on Wednesday, there was music playing. When I woke up on Thursday, there was music playing, possibly even the same song. They love this song here that includes the lyric, “I don’t see my wife, I don’t see my wife,” etc. I will dwell on the interesting difference in the laws for married men and women down the road. Besides the noise from the music, I also heard some more rustling from inside my air conditioner. I determined that it was definitely too loud to simply be cockroaches. I also noticed light was coming through around the outside of the A/C so there might be a bird’s nest in there. My other guess is large lizards. I’ve seen two crawl across the wall and ceiling, respectively since I’ve started this paragraph. I stuck my 3 inch Rambo knife that Tizzle gave me in the crack where I could fit it to try and scare out the intruders, but it didn’t sound like they even flinched. Speaking of Tizz, you should know that I carry this bad boy with me at all times in the cell phone pocket of my backpack for quick access. I hope I never have to use it to defend myself, but I do feel a little safer walking with it on me at night. It’s also great at opening whiskey sachets (pouches of whisky that you get at the bar), which we discovered today.
As par for the course, Mr. D was late and didn’t even answer my call that morning. I figured he was still in the process of getting ready and would give him some time to call back or show up. An hour later at 11 AM, still no word. Friends in the states, remember all those times when I took forever to come over or show up? Yeah, this is definitely karma for making you wait. I am eternally sorry.
At some point, I talked with Mr. D and it was determined that I would meet him at ENIEG . I showed up and waited for about 10 or 15 mins until he showed. We went into his office and it seemed that he had a meeting with two women that had been waiting at the school as well. Why I needed to be there, I’m still not sure. Meanwhile, the two women had a little girl with them that was adorable. The cuteness level plummeted quickly, however. She had a hard time maintaining her interest in the office and decided to start picking up the pieces of dirt and the ground and offering them to me. I politely declined to take her little dirt balls and then she started eating them. I’ve heard of insects for protein, but don’t think you can find too much nutritional value in a piece of dirt.
I finally got to meet the prefet of Edea. I would say he is like the mayor, except that there is also a mayor of Edea. Not really sure what the role of the prefet is currently, besides being a figurehead. He seemed very welcoming and had a smile like Mike Tyson. Graciously, he switched to English after I exhausted my petite French knowledge. He said that I was welcome and that he hoped I would enjoy my next two years in Cameroon.
I made a point to note that throughout the week, when we had been entering/exiting offices Mr. D had been shutting the door on me before I was through the threshold. Maybe it was him not trying to let any A/C out, but I was getting fairly sick of him shutting the door on me when I was halfway through the doorway.
After the prefet, I went to the police station of Edea. Not like your typical cop shop in the states. I met two of the higher-ups in the police station, don’t ask me for their titles though. Both police officials were sitting in their office watching TV. I’m sure this occurs in the states, but they just had a look like I don’t care about my job AT ALL. When we were going into the police station I had a funny thought. I started to get worried about the knife I carried in my backpack and thought I met set off a metal detector. And then I remembered I was in Africa…
I mentioned yesterday that a moto driver had called me Jesus. A day later, I received the opposite when some little kids called me el Diablo. In case you were wondering, it means the Devil in Spanish. It was also brought to my attention that there is a tv novella (soap opera) on in Cameroon called “El Diablo” so they may have been saying I looked like a character from that. I just thought it was funny I went from Jesus to the Devil in less than 24 hrs.
I witnessed a white hippie looking moto driver for the second time during my site visit in Edea. This guy looked like he had been in the Peace Corps in the 70’s and just never left. I really don’t see myself following his path.
Mr. D asked me why I didn’t wear a costume (a suit) and I replied that it was too hot in Africa for a suit. He laughed and explained that Cameroonians attempting to always look their best was part of the French culture that was left behind through colonization. Eh, I prefer being comfortable, give me my birthday suit any day.
We went back to talk to our finance friend, and low and behold he offered to find me a wife for the second time in as many days. They say Cameroonians are direct, and they are, but apparently I wasn’t direct enough when I replied, “NO!”
We went back to Mr. D’s office yet again. I’m not sure what he had to do, but he goes, “Here, you can read The New Testament.” Probably not my first choice if I’m reading for pleasure, but I figured I’d appease him and give it a gander. I actually found the biblical stories interesting and can’t remember the last time I actually read a decent chunk of the Bible. Don’t worry this isn’t gonna turn into a religious post, I just thought I’d share my office reading material. Also, during this time Mr. D fell asleep multiple times and we wasted about ohhhh 2 hours in his office doing nothing. He kept telling me that we were going to drink wine and eat a big meal for my last night in Edea so I put up with it. He also said we’d leave in a few minutes, and an hour later we finally departed.
Took my first 3 person moto ride after leaving ENIEG. I wasn’t too keen on riding this way, but no other motos were in sight so I bit the bullet. I find it hilarious that in a country where homosexuality is illegal it is perfectly acceptable for two dude friends to walk down the street holding hands or for your moto driver to sit on your lap so everyone fits. I’m not kidding, the driver was literally almost sitting on my lap. Nothing like grinding on a sweaty Cameroonian guy to start the night off right.
We went to Mr. D’s niece house. There was no wine or food, and no power for a short while, but I was given a coconut as a gift. I didn’t really know what to do with it at the time so I just put it in my bookbag. Something brushed my shoulder in the dark and I quickly pulled it off me and threw it on the ground. Luckily, the lights came on quickly and I saw the giant grey and green spotted beetle/grasshopper/praying mantis hybrid that had probably just tried to make my shoulder its new meal.
Mr. D and his niece talked for awhile in Bamkaki (which I probably butchered and spelled differently than I spelled it in another blog post). I didn’t understand a word and tried to feign interest. It sounds a lot like balli-balli-bongo-bong-blob,etc… Maybe not politically correct, but that’s really what it was like phonetically. Anyways, the niece asked me why I was being so cool, meaning why wasn’t I talking that much. Well 1. I don’t understand what the heck you two are saying and 2. My French isn’t good enough to carry on a conversation beyond simple introductions and phrases. I used all of that within the first 5 minutes of meeting her. She kept looking at me with these crazy eyes so I just acted like I was having a good time so she would stop asking why I was being so cool. Saw a new security technique at her house. Instead of barbed wire, they had glued broken bottle shards with the points up to the top of the stone walls to prevent intruders from climbing the walls. Macguyver would be proud.
We finally left the niece’s house, with another trips moto ride of course. This time we went to the mother-in-law of Mr. D, refer back to my post about asking Mr. D if he was married and you will see why this is weird. They went and got us a cold beer and brought out a bowl of snacks for me. It looked like dried dog food so I waited for Mr. D to eat one before I attempted and I still wasn’t thoroughly convinced it wasn’t. They actually tasted pretty good, although they crunched just like the sound Buster’s dog food used to make. The little girl with the black tooth was back in action at the house and after I ate pretty much the entire snack bowl she snuck one for herself and got her butt swatted. Yeah, I felt about 2” tall for eating so many. I would have gladly shared if I knew she wanted some.
After the cold beer and dog food snacks, I finally got my feast at Mr. D’s. Vino Rosado (Red Wine), beef, corn, kassava (a tastless vegetable), prunes (which are giant, kind of taste like avocadoes, and I think I like them), French Fries and friend plantains. After multiple hours, I thought Mr. D was lying about drinking wine and feasting, but he came through in the clutch. Mr. D went to change and I was forced to make awkward broken French conversation with the daughter until he returned. This was followed by yet another 3 person moto ride, right up to my front door. For all my bitching about time management with Mr. D, he was more than hospitable and he kept reiterating over dinner that I was now a part of his family. Makes all those le blanc calls a little more tolerable when you know you’ve got some allies on your side.
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