As you
may have gathered, music is a big part of life here in Cameroon. When Celestine is gone, the siblings bust out
their non-gospel tunes and it becomes straight 2003 up in here.
However,
they still rely on CDs played through the computer. Seeing an opportunity to bridge the language
gap and secure my budding friendships, I showed Carole how to rip the CDs into iTunes
so she doesn’t have to switch back and forth all the time.
My
reward: James Blunt on repeat. “You’re beautifulllll….You’re beautiful…”
I hated
this song the first time around and unlike “Pocket Full of Sunshine” in Easy A,
constant repetition did not engender any more affectionate feelings in me.
But I
did find an ally: Romeo. Around the fourth or fifth rotation of this
song, Romeo stomped into their bedroom and returned with headphones which he
thrust at Carole. I laughed, which
opened the door.
Now, I
have suspected a kindred spirit in Romeo before. He customarily watches TV on his phone (it
has an adorable little antennae which pulls out), and we have passed a few
hours watching break dance videos together.
He also once came rushing over to show me a fuzzy image of Barack Obama
holding a press conference. The static
was too loud to make out what Obama was saying, but Romeo was clearly proud so
I acted enthusiastic. Romeo is also a
football (soccer) fan, and Celestine has made him promise to take me to an
upcoming home game. And he is the only one in the house who drinks. In short, he is my BFF who I can’t say more
than five words to. Together we would
form an alliance – viva la resistance!
I had a
plan. I would offer to load my music
onto Carole’s computer. I figured this would not only decrease the probability
of James Blunt, but also give Romeo a stake in the game. If he had access to music he liked, perhaps
he could lobby for me in language and cultural absentia.
However,
a lot of my music is hip hop and laden with that constant-deficient word which
straddles the racist line. Having made
that mistake in Uganda, I couldn’t give Carole free reign. So I set about the onerous process of wedding
out any inappropriate music while still trying to find things they would like –
after all, the motivation behind this was still a desperate ploy for
acceptance.
Thumb
drive loaded, I put my plan into action through a series of gestures. Then I bided my time waiting for Celestine to
leave and the party to get hopping. But
alas – Romeo did not come home! Fortunately
not all was lost; we spent the next two hours listening to Beyonce and
throwback Destiny’s Child. (surprisingly, Britney was not a hit with this
crowd)
But then
something happened that may have put an end to this coalition before it even
started. I went out to use the pit
toilet before bed with my awesomely attractive headlamp strapped on. As usual, I entered with urgency in an
attempt to get this over as quickly as possible but as I lunged past the
dividing curtain I collided with something.
That something turned out to be Romeo…squatting. That’s right friends. I kicked my new ally in the shins while he
was taking a poop. To make matters
worse, the headlamp clearly illuminated (and blinded) him for the full duration
of time it took my confused brain to process what the hell happened and
formulate an escape plan (obviously, I mumbled horrified apologies, ran back to
my room and didn’t emerge until after he was gone the next morning. There was no other reasonable course of
action.)
Viva la
resistance?
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