A Night Out

This past weekend around 7:30pm there was a knock on the door.  This was a highly unprecedented event, particularly since all bodies were accounted for and assembled around the living room.  After staring blankly at each other for a sufficient period of time, Celestine finally rose and inquired about the mystery guest. 

It turned out to be two men, Armstrong and Dr. Elo, former colleagues of Celestine.  They settled in and Celestine, the interminable host, asked if she could get them anything.  Armstrong requested a beer, which Romeo was set out to fetch for the guests and myself.  I liked them already.

We made the usual small talk about how I like Cameroon, where I am from back home, how the weather is treating me, etc.  Both men were actually born in the English-speaking regions of Cameroon so for once I was able to fully participate in a conversation.  Towards the close of the evening, Armstrong turned to me and said that they wished to invite us out tomorrow night.  We agreed and a time was set, although the location was to remain a mystery.

About 45 minutes after the appointed hour, the men turned up….only to tell us they would be back in another hour.  Punctual for the second arrival time, we departed – climbing into Armstrong’s personal car, a welcome change from the rickety and perilous taxi rides I have become accustomed to.

We arrived at our destination: an outdoor bakery and bar.  While this was pretty much my dream situation, Celestine whispered to me that this was not what she had envisioned, “a place where everyone is just drinking and drinking.”  Determined to seize upon this rare opportunity, I chose to ignore her with a “what can you do” shrug.  Celestine ordered apple juice while Armstrong asked if I would be amendable to sharing a bottle of wine.  Yes please!

Shortly after the wine was delivered, another female friend of Armstrong’s arrived…followed by a plate of street meat skewers.  Now, protein is a rare treat here in Cameroon and when it is produced it is usually of the fish variety (skin in, tiny bones everywhere).  Not usually a devotee of red meat, even I have succumbed to literal dreams about a big, fat juicy steak.  So to me, this array of grisly mystery meat was heaven on a plate.  And that is not all; shortly after a bag of chocolate filled croissants materialized.  Wine, meat AND chocolate?!  Be still my heart…

Culinary delights aside, the real treat of the night was the conversation.  Clearly well acquainted, Armstrong had no problem teasing Celestine and prodding even her most stringent statements. Maybe this happens to Celestine a lot and is just in the language gap, but for me it was a real treasure to witness. 

Highlights include:

·         An anecdote about a former intern at their company who, after a night out, revealed that she was a bisexual.  The sheer existence of this type of person shocked Armstrong, who regaled me with the various questions he asked of her (“Can you really get the same pleasure from both?”)  This transitioned into a discussion of the prevalence of homosexuality in the West, particularly transgendered persons, and a raucous debate as to whether this is a result of decreased social stigma comparative to Africa, environmental upbringing, a lack of religion or a psychological imbalance.  To my surprise, the crowd was a 50/50 split.

·         A question was posed: If you were on a sinking ship and could only save one person, would it be your father or your husband?  Being first to bat, I took an ambiguous approach fearful of stepping on cultural landmines:  it depends on how good my husband is to me and if we have children.  Celestine put it in the hands of God, saying he would make the choice for her.  Armstrong advocated the wife, using the logic that his mother had lived a long life, and the pretense that a truly good mother would tell him to choose his own wife over her.  His female companion rallied to the father’s cause: “I can get another husband, I only have one father.”  Much debate ensued, and for once…I could actually understand!

·         Celestine mentioned my impending birthday, at which point we discovered that Armstrong’s is only a few days after.  Noticing my depression when forced to confess that I would be turning 27, he asked about what the cultural implications of this are.  After much back and forth, it came down to one issue, the same one mothers across the world have been harping on for generations:  When are you going to get married and have children?  I came all the way across the globe and I still can’t escape it! 

·         Both men work in an international non-profit focused on street children.  They were kind enough to fill me in on some of the background and root causes, providing interesting insight into the traditional culture here in Cameroon.  Polygamy is common, but men are only allowed four wives.  If he should decide he wants a new one, he can divorce the initial wife and kick her and the children out – frequently out of the village entirely.  Children are also seen as workhorses here; like the pioneer days of yore families breed herds of them to assist with the farm.  Education is considered a waste of time, detracting from the real work needed at home.  Schoolmasters will sometimes circle the villages rounding up children to attend school, and Dr. Elo has encountered families who actively hide their children when this happens.

·         This led to a discussion of the culture of philanthropy here.  Dr. Elo spoke of a man in a taxi who turned to him and expressed an interest in donating food and clothes to the street children.  Dr. Elo described this as “giving out of pity.”  He said instead he should invest in programs to help them find a job or get educated -- something to build their future.  An age-old concept, but I liked his choice of phrasing. Armstrong also offered an interesting perspective on the giving culture in Cameroon, putting into words a sentiment I had struggled with.  African people are very generous; they will go out of their way to help you, support a neighbor and offer you their absolute best.  But their giving is local and direct.  There is no institution of philanthropy here and people do not understand the bigger picture of giving.  Remedying this would require a broad shift in thinking, which is made even more challenging by the innate distrust people have of large-scale institutions that in Cameroon are frequently corrupt.

The night was not without a few cultural hiccups: the men were appalled that this trip was not financed by some big unseen rich hand in the States; the idea of being cut off at the bar was as abhorrent to them as the lack of drunk driving laws here was to me; Celestine tattled about my jump rope habit which led a painful and somewhat embarrassing explanation of the American concept of “staying in shape.”

All in all…a truly enjoyable night with interesting people.  It was a breath of fresh air to be able to converse easily in my native language and their candor was greatly appreciated.  I am sure the wine helped too J  It is nights like this, and people like this, that remind me again why I chose to come here in the first place.