cameroon- on the road

it was me, my family, and our traveling friends- of who i had just met.

we were boarding a short flight, bringing us from the lusch tropical south of cameroon, to the dry dusty north. although the plane ride was only 2 hours, it was a world away.

"it's going to be very hot." my uncle said.

"make sure you bring your camera." my aunt said.

my cousins were being good sports, it was their spring break and when they'd rather be hanging out watching television or spending time with their friends, the next week and a half would be devoted to touring remote villages in the extreme north, with their principal, one of the friends.

i was thrilled they were coming. i like hanging out with teenagers, and i wanted to get to know the adult version of the kids that i once knew.

we stepped off the plane into a thick black haze.

"the harmattan." my uncle said.

i explained what that meant to one of our newcomer friends, who had never been to africa before.

but even though i had seen the harmattan in ghana, the winds blowing down from the sahara seemed to have a greater effect in this region. the sky was heavy and forboding, i glanced over at my cousins. they rolled thier eyes.

the travels had begun.

some official looking man hurried us out of the weather, the dry thick must, into a room with couches. the couches were low, and had big plush cushions. the AC was spilling down from the ceiling, invading the space. local men in elaborate chiefly looking outfits sat waiting to greet my uncle and aunt. the rest of us perched with our hands in our laps, smiling, not sure what exactly it was we were waiting for.

it was night.

suddenly everybody stood up and we all walked out. i had checked my mind with the airport luggage, it seemed. i was just another sheep in the flock. for the next 8 days i wouldn't have to think. everything would be taken care of, whether i liked it or not.

i chose to like it.

"we're going to drive over and check into our hotel, and then go to a friend's house for dinner." my uncle had a sneaky grin, the grin i imagine when my mother tells me her childhood stories. the grin he must of had as he scared them with his pet snakes, or spit through the shutters of their bedroom door. "it's going to be over the top." he said. "just prepare yourself, it's really something here."

then he walked away.

i knew each house we would be visiting, all the people we would be meeting, were high ranking cameroonians, whether in government, village, or military. but i had a hard time keeping up with the titles, the labels, so my mind blocked them all out.

the man's house we were going to for dinner, i was told, was very important. that is all i remember.

i was also told he has 4 wives, one of them is chinese.

the drivers took care of our details, handing us room keys, our correct baggage (which i hadn't seen since we boarded the plane), telling us when to be back.

"thank you" we all said, hurrying off to prepare before we left.

i was staying with torri and yanni and someone i hadn't yet met, who went by the name of Coby. yanni was very protective of Coby, garaunteeing me he was to provide us with long nights filled with good times. she had a strong connection with Coby and needed daily interaction with him.

then she opened up her bag. "here he is!" she announced, cradeling a medium sized silver dvd player. "so what do we want to watch? we have Friends, Desperate Housewives, The OC, Grey's Anatomy..."

i stared at Coby.

i hadn't watched t.v. in years. 8, to be exact.

i kept staring at Coby.

my uncle was right, this was going to be over the top.

"well," i said "not Friends, and i haven't heard of the others, so you guys pick."

we plugged in and started with the first episode of Desperate Housewives. when it was through, we heard a knock on our door.

"time to go."

we shuffled out of the AC bungalow, into the car, which was also cool as an icebox.

when we arrived at Mr. Important #1's House, we got out. he was out in his yard, arms spread wide, tall and sturdy as a redwood, bright eyes and smiling. he was gorgeous. he shook all our hands and laughed spoke in french. our group glanced around his yard, which was nice, a bit odd. it was mostly the gazelle i thought were strange.

"i've only ever seen them in the wild" i said "on safari."

the gazelle made everyone stare quite a bit, they were huddled in groups, staying far from the people, close to the bouganvillea plants growing up the large wall.

then my aunt commented on the size of the satelitte dish.

it was large.

it could have had sails added and been taken out to sea. odd shape for a boat, but enough to fit a good sized crew.

all conversation taking place was in french, unless it was internal or within our group. but not many of us were speaking, we just had our mouths gaping open, staring all around.

Mr. Important's wife pranced out of the house, his fourth wife, his chinese wife. she ran down and shook our hands and told us to follow her. she had a wide friendly face, and seemed very hospitable.

once we all made it inside, we sat. on one side of the large room, my uncle sat chatting and bonding with the men of the house. the rest of us sat on the right side, the side filled with snacks. the television seemed to split the room in two, the noise coming from it buffered us, divided the house into sections.

i became overly observant, returning again and again to the thick striped wall paper. it was both nauseating, and upper class. then i realized the television was all in mandarin chinese, and i recognized a few phrases here and there. i mustered up the strength to go wow the 4th wife with my limited knowledge of her language.

the only thing i could remember when i walked up to her was "please, can i have it a little cheaper."

she batted her eyelashes and shook her head. she didn't understand me.

i said it again. "please, can i have it a little cheaper?"

she stared at me, vacantly.

"i'm trying to speak mandarin." i said. "please, can i have it a littel cheaper?"

she broke out in giggles and bent forward, heaving from the humor.

"ahhh, pien e dien hau mau? ahhh ahh i see i see! oh my chinese sister!" she said, over and over.

from that point on, i became her chinese sister. when we sat down to eat, so many of us we divided into two tables, she needed help serving. "my chinese sister will help me." she said, calling me over. i (and all the servants) ladled out the strangest looking food, not sure if it was cameroonian or asian, or a mix. i also ladled out a little more of my poor mandarin, and kept my new friend in stitches all night. the meal was yes, over the top. it never seemed to end.

silver platter after silver platter.

she grabbed me and took me to the side. "my chinese sister" she said. "i don't speak english much, i don't know it very well."

"you sound great to me."

uncontrollable little laughs, then severe eye contact. "my chinese sister. people say i am brave. i am brave for coming to live here, away from them. my chinese friends here say i am brave. there are four of them. but life is hard, very hard. here, people treat me like i am a couch or a chair." she motioned to all the furniture. "they treat me like i am a couch or a chair, as if i don't feel. they think my mind is not my own. but no, my mind is my own. to be a wife here is difficult. i am not a couch or a chair. you see? i will show these people. i can think for myself."

then it was time to serve dessert. she rounded the tables, making everyone feel comfortable, making everyone feel overly full. she'd dollop and pause and glance at me and wink.

i liked her spirit. her spunk, her fire.

i had a few pinch me moments.

where was i? why was i speaking mandarin in a house full of cameroonians with my family?

i felt i was having a strange afriasia dream, mixing all my lives into one.

it was confusing, bizarre, just the way i like it. and it was only the first night.