A Slice of Life

On the whole, my life here is not very exciting:  eat, work, exercise, read, sleep and repeat.  But there are some documentable items mixed into my daily fabric.  In an effort to give you a full picture of life here, below are some of them. (confession: some of these are a bit dated)

·         I discovered a small lizard friend living in my room.  We have come to comfortable co-habitation: he eats most of the bugs while I hide his existence from Celestine’s murderous foot.  I keep my suitcase zipped and my mosquito net tucked tight so we don’t get too acquainted.  Potential names include Pierre and Eduardo.  Feedback welcomed.

 

·         If you think back to your freshman year of college, you may recall just how difficult it can be to shower in flip flops.  Once wet, they become slippery mechanisms of big-toe suicide.  It was during one of these precarious situations that I had an experience that very surely would have ended my time in Africa:  I slipped and nearly stepped into the pit toilet hole.  Now, these suckers are deep so it is unlikely I would have connected with the pool at the bottom.  However, they are not straight drops and the side accumulation would have been enough horror for one lifetime, maybe two.  Had this happened, I would have given up on Africa that very minute and returned to my now Forever Unclear life in the States (not to mention I probably would have broken my leg). 

·         We have officially entered the rainy season in Cameroon, which means that for a few hours a day it downpours.  Delightfully, this has exasperated the leaks in the roof so the house now features an obstacle course of drip-collecting buckets.  Celestine offered to put a tarp over the top of my mosquito net, which has the added bonus of preventing me from witnessing the collection of dead bugs which eventually accumulates up there.  (I can only assume they fall from the ceiling dead, otherwise lizard friend is not holding up his end of the bargain).  Thankfully the only leak in my room to date is in the far corner.

·         There has been a tragedy of the First World proportions:  my headphones are on the fritz.  They still work but require exact positioning, little jostling and extreme patience.  I can only assume they have been cavorting with their underutilized African brethren and are now protesting their workload.  This is extremely upsetting to me because I rely on them for so much – blocking out the creepy crawly night sounds and obnoxious neighbors, music when working out, a way to mediate the awkwardness of sitting silently while other people converse in French around you.  Second in importance only to my mosquito net, my headphones provide me with a tiny little world of Western solace.  Thankfully, I found a second pair of the crappy airplane variety stashed in my bag as an emergency option…but the day these little buggers give out will be a sad one indeed.  Thanks for the shoddy work, Apple.

·         It was recently election day in Cameroon.  They have a pretty similar system to us, with a judicial, legislative and executive branch.  The main difference is they have both a Prime Minister and President, both of which have been in power for decades.  Celestine lamented against the corruption in the system, saying the winners were decided well before the votes were cast.  However, she also said that it was her duty as a Cameroonian to vote regardless of whether she thought it counted.  If she didn’t vote, she was not helping to change the system and therefore could not complain about the outcome.  Granted, she didn’t know a thing about the candidates and vowed to chose based on the names when she arrived.  But still, there is the hint of a civic lesson in there for all of you apathetic Americans.

·         There has been no water for over a week now.  We have resorted to using what is collected in buckets when it rains, and then using a “natural filter” to strain it.  This means that any non-essential activities are curbed.  We all smell.  Badly.  But more pressing then that…I am out of underwear.  It is my own fault really, delaying the tedious laundry process until the last possible minute.  You think I would have learned after the last time, but no.  Fingers crossed….

·         Lilly is training to be a tailor and agreed to fulfill my African ambition of having a traditional dress made.  In fact, she offered to make three:  one for the house, one for church and one for fashion.  I am not quite sure what that means exactly, but she spent about an hour poring over magazines and scrutinizing me so I am optimistic.  As part of the process, she took me with her to the fabric market in town to pick out the materials.  It was a cramped and slightly horrifying series of alleyways, with a dizzying array of fabrics, zippers and buttons.  Lilly seemed to know everyone, including a female Rufio clone with a green mohawk weave complete with decorative shells. A true Cameroonian hero, if I do say so myself.

·         Celestine shared some local movies with me.  They have titles like “I am not Stupid” and “No War 2.”  The one we watched, called War Without End, featured multiple story lines.  The first was a woman who, although having three full grown daughters, was humiliated by her lack of a boy child.  So distraught was she, that she sought out the supposed miraculous powers of what turned out to be a false priest.  In another story line, a young girl lets a boy touch her “buttocks,” winds up pregnant, drinks a juice concoction that Celestine explained to me was an abortion elixir.  Not surprisingly, she winds up dead.   There was also a charming scene where one girl reaches out to fondle her sleeping roommate, who wakes up and extols her on the dangers of sin.  This prompted squeals of LESBIAN from Celestine and a reenactment of how she saw two ladies making out on the street once – wagging her tongue in the air and gesturing like you used to do in fourth grade singing K-I-S-S-I-N-G.  As you may have guessed, homosexuality is not accepted in Cameroon.

·         A recent news story has captivated the house:  a family was discovered living with the dead corpse of the mother for SIX MONTHS.  Apparently they kept praying for her resurrection, believing the spirit was still in the house.  It gets better….the husband SLEPT IN THE BED with the corpse for this time. Can you imagine?!  They actually said the first few weeks were the worst as the corpse…well…started to decompose, but they eventually got used to it.  This has become Celestine’s new favorite story to tell.  Truthfully, I don’t blame her -- it is the most exciting thing I have heard since I got here.

·         While in the fruit market the other day with Lilly, I pulled out my camera to take a photo of the various vendors.  With the sun shining bright, their colorful produce just looked so very appealing.  I was quickly SHUT DOWN and yelled at profusely.  Apparently, many people here object to having their photo taken.  Lilly explained that it was largely the uneducated women who still have very traditional beliefs – meaning voodoo and tribal magic.  So I am probably cursed now….