"i'm just going to drive, we don't need to call the driver. i wanted to go on some errands. do you mind? i'm getting these hilarious outfits made of this blue faux snakeskin print i bought. faux snakeskin! you know how we love to dress up! it's going to be hilarious. it's going to be great. our family, and pam, jan, nancy and scott will all be wearing them while we travel. you'll love it..."
we were walking through the house, picking up things and plopping them in bags, getting ready to leave. judi was talking and thinking and preparing to leave. she was saying names of people i didn't even know, referencing them like they were my long lost friends.
i was following her taking in all the surroundings.
the house was large, but not in a disgusting way. it's presence didn't make you feel uncomfortable. they had picked loud vibrant art to hang on the walls, which helped, coupled with many of my grandmama's pieces, my favorite. her art is impressionistic, capturing people and places in their full juicyness, with lot's of color and even more emotion. the kind of painting that makes your heart throb, the kind that makes you want to jump in and wrap yourself up in her strokes.
i looked over at one of the walls, where i noticed a painting i hadn't paid much attention to before, in my youth. if i wasn't in the studio with my grandmama while they were being painted, then i only got to see these works when i saw my uncle. which wasn't often. it was a few feet high and a few feet wide and had my little sister and me on the right standing in different positions, me with my cousin torri propped up on my hip. she was just a baby and i was probably 10 years old. on the left side of the painting were torri's 2 older sisters, who at the time were close to being 4 and 7, with their looks captured perfectly. one was aloof, the other self-satisfied and delighted.
as i looked at the image i became very emotional. torri was on my hip, and i was looking at her with great love and care. i remember how much i loved my baby cousins. it was real. i've been drawn to this world my entire life, have loved pulling them into my world at any chance i can get. my history was painted in front of me and currently i was living out my dream. i really have the heart of a midwife.
seeing this made me want to cry. it made me feel more connected to God. it made me thankful for where i was at in life.
when i was done staring, i walked around the corner and found judi, head-in-fridge pulling out water bottles.
"... i thought it'd be fun! cameroonians love dressing in the same fabric, so i thought when we went to some of the big celebrations up north we could all do the same thing. the locals will get a kick out of it. anyway" (head and torso out of fridge) "we have to go pick up our dresses from the shop, which is in a muslim district, you might want to put a scarf over your shoulders. it's no big deal, but i try to dress conservative or at least make an attempt when i go there. the men appreciate it. then we can head over..."
the kitchen was bright, very bright. it had an alerting freshness, a few stoves, many knives clinging magnetically to the wall, shiny and able. the living room could host a gymnastics competition and the dining room table was as smooth and long as a bowling alley. well, not quite, but in normal home furnishing land that's what it would equate to.
upstairs we collected soccer clothes and running shoes.
"i keep getting lost!" i told judi.
"i know!" she cackled "isn't this house strange? it really is. the upstairs all looks the same. you walk out of a room and can't figure out which way to go. when my parents were here i had to tape balloons on their door! ha!"
it was true. very similar to a hotel hallway, there was nothing helping me distinguish door 1 from door 2, except for the magazine collages hanging on the outside. the girls had personalized their gateways. "Yanni's Room". She had a poster that said "they lie, they cheat... they're you're friends. the OC". I don't remember Torri's door.
the hallway jetted down separating the upstairs in two, ending in a cozy space at the top of the stairs, full of craft supplies and family pictures. clinging to the sides of the walls were signs of life, of family living. shoes in piles, stacks of books.
the top half of the house was low key. the bottom half was impressive. the top had framed pictures of children's art. the bottom had professional art.
"this is the family room." she opened the door, exposing an area that held a few couches, a few computers, a television, and cats. my aunt is always laughing. she laughs between breaths, between words, between thoughts. she told me the wacky cat names, none of which stuck but all of which made me love my family even more. "let's keep them in here though because Euphrasia, the maid, is allergic. but we can come in here tonite and watch American Idol. we're kind of obsessed! oh and Euphrasia, she's hilarious. we've got our little thing going on, you know what i mean. our girl thing, she gets it. she's weird, like us. you can joke with her. so-" she said, looking all around "i think i've got it all. are you ready to go play soccer?"
i was.
"great. let's go!"
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
cameroon- the house
The most exciting thing that happened on the drive from Douala to Yaounde was the car in front of us hit a goat. And really, that wasn't exciting, it was sad. seeing an animal hit by a car is disturbing, and it takes a long time to shake the feeling.
life prancing in front of your eyes.
death sprawled out on the side of the road.
and you know who to blame the entire way, whether it was accidental or not, they're in front of you.
so yes, a goat lost his life, but, the surroundings were gorgeous. in fact, it was very similar to the region i'm in in ghana, big tall trees, rainforest trees, with vines growing up in all directions choking out their life, then hanging back down like long dangly earrings. green everywhere. blue on top. life breathing life.
i felt comfortable, except for one thing.
i was freezing cold.
"excuse me" i said from the back "do you think you can turn down the air? i'm feeling a little chilly." that was after i had put on a long hooded thermal.
"oh yes Madame, no problem at all."
and that was the extent of our communication during the hours spent together traveling as passenger and driver to my families house, besides an "uh oh... oh... ahhhh no!" when the goat failed his crossing. and a laugh communicating misfortune.
but i didn't mind not talking, and i wasn't too sure if he even spoke english. i was traveling through the french speaking region of cameroon, and would be the entire trip. i took out my imaginary case, put twi inside and told twi i would be coming back, then sealed it tight.
i won't forget about you. i promise. yebehyia.
i was slipping my feet out of dusty village sandals into sleek jeweled slippers.
but i wasn't going to feel out of place. all my family has a way of being both prestigious and incredibly down to earth. of appearing glamorous and easily approachable. they live their rich lifestyle in a proud 'i found it on sale' type of way, jumping into their big glassy shimmering pools in formal evening wear.
they aren't pretentious.
we pulled up to a black gate, two men in guard uniforms and guns strapped over their shoulders opened it for us, and we drove up to the house i had heard so much about. my aunt was standing outside, looking beautiful of course, waving.
i had finally made it.
before i had a chance to lean over and pull the handle, the door opened for me.
"thank you." i told the driver, then i jumped down and went over to my aunt.
she had her arms outstretched and was laughing out thrill, she's dramatic by nature. "ohh kacie!!!"
"judi!"
we gave a warm hug and then she began on the beginning of a series of a million and one stories, all of which were animated and told with the same amount of energy and urgency, smoothly transferring from one onto the next like an Olympic relay race. sort of like bob, but in a more settling sane way.
we cruised through their house, which was obviously more of a mansion, and she tried to orientate me. i dropped my bag off in my youngest cousin's room, who hasn't grown older than 3 years old in my time warp memory, but will soon be celebrating her 14th birthday. "she's almost 14?!" i could barely believe it, but i didn't dare say that to her later, that would make me into one of those weird relatives. the kind you don't see for a long time and can only stare and comment about how big you've gotten. the kind that i was about to be but pretend not to be. "then how old is Torri?"
"she's turning 16 on Saturday!" judi said. then she went on to tell me of a fabulous surprise birthday party they threw for her just a few days prior. "since we'll be on our family trip for her birthday, and she really wanted something special, i thought it'd be really fun to give her a little surprise. i mean, you know us kacie, i don't know what she was expecting, she knows she wasn't getting a car. imagine that!" then she imitated driving up in a beautiful convertible and waved over to the wall. "beep beep, hello!!!" we both laughed. "she knows we aren't like that, so instead i just woke up really early..." judi has a way of stretching out her words and making very dedicated eye contact during her stories so that the intensity knocks up a few notches and you're drawn in whether you were willing or not. i was willing. "... i woke up really early..."
and she moves her body like a dancer. her hands, her head, her shoulders are erect.
"... i woke up really early, and cooked all this special food for her, cake, chocolate mousse. uuummm, chocolate mousse, it was so fun! we'll have to eat that after lunch, there's still some left." she said, giggling and letting me in on her secret. "are you hungry?"
"very."
"good, because i planned bean tacos for you. i couldn't remember if you were still a vegetarian or what, so i figured bean tacos would be safe. the cooks have finished and the table is set so let's go do that, let's go eat bean tacos. then we can have the chocolate mousse, won't that be fun?!"
it sounded perfect to me.
when we were sitting at the table i asked "what's this?"
"oh it's The Buzzer." she said, overacting being official, clipping her big full lips together and perking up her eyebrows. "i still can't ring it without laughing. really. try it." she pushed it over in my direction. it was a small white rectangle chunk with a button on top.
"what would i say?"
"Francis will come out and ask you what you want. but we can do that later, for the dessert."
we sat and assembled tacos with all the beautiful ingredients splayed out on the table.
"i like to eat here, it's more intimate. so when it's just me and niels, or like this right now, me and you, i try to get them to set us up out here. it's just too creepy eating at that huge dining room table when it's not full, you know!?!"
"how often do you eat lunch with niels?"
"he tries to come home in the afternoon everyday."
i respect my uncle. he is a true family man. and i respect my aunt. they've raised a beautiful family.
i was onto my 4th taco. i couldn't control myself, it was all too good. i was trying not to apologize for my over appetite, i can't stand listening to woman apologizing for eating because i know what they are really apologizing for.
sorry for daring to appear unsexy, sorry for choosing myself over image, sorry for not being a "lady".
but when there were no more shells and i realized i had eaten more than my fare share i did squeak out a sorry. that was a sorry for being inconsiderate.
"oh keep eating! here-" she said, sliding The Buzzer over to me "we can get some more."
i pushed it and we both cracked up. my index finger had beckoned a servant and he was standing by my side in less than a minute with a silver tray and big willing eyes. i felt really weird. i hated it from an outside perspective, but as an insider it seemed okay for the moment. i couldn't over analyze it now, i had to eat more tacos.
"um, do you think we could get some more taco shells?"
"yes of course." he said, nodding and turning with the precision of a cadet.
when he came back judi asked for the bowl of mousse from the fridge. i believe there were more than 6 fridges, but he apparently knew which one she was talking about.
"yes Madame." he said.
"with 2 spoons also! and no bowls, just bring it in the big green bowl it's already in."
"Madame, no bowls?"
"no bowls. just spoons. thanks."
"yes Madame."
we chatted some more and my head began to spin from all the options. options of food, things to talk about, paintings to stare at, rooms to discover, ways to focus my mind. options of how to feel, being so rich in a world so poor.
Francis began to try and clear a space for the mousse, which looked delicious.
"oh it's okay francis, you can just put the bowl over on the table down there."
"yes Madame."
then he placed it on the low lying coffee table and looked at us like he was either making a huge mistake, or we were crazy.
"thanks" we said.
we walked over with our spoons in hand, sat down cross legged, and dug in. i could feel a double chin growing with each bite, and i embraced it, temporarily.
"so Yannika has a soccer game this afternoon at her school. it's parents versus students and i sort of signed you up as a competitor. i thought it'd be fun! i'll play too..."
i was exhausted and needed to sleep, but if i couldn't do that soccer was the next best thing.
"sure, that sounds like a lot of fun."
i noticed i still felt that strange feeling, the one i had in the airport with my uncle, the disorientation. almost as if i was watching a video of myself. the feeling of jet lag, or drugs. i wanted it to go away.
once i saw my cousins, played soccer, and took a nap, all would be fine. i was sure.
i was just glad to be with my family.
life prancing in front of your eyes.
death sprawled out on the side of the road.
and you know who to blame the entire way, whether it was accidental or not, they're in front of you.
so yes, a goat lost his life, but, the surroundings were gorgeous. in fact, it was very similar to the region i'm in in ghana, big tall trees, rainforest trees, with vines growing up in all directions choking out their life, then hanging back down like long dangly earrings. green everywhere. blue on top. life breathing life.
i felt comfortable, except for one thing.
i was freezing cold.
"excuse me" i said from the back "do you think you can turn down the air? i'm feeling a little chilly." that was after i had put on a long hooded thermal.
"oh yes Madame, no problem at all."
and that was the extent of our communication during the hours spent together traveling as passenger and driver to my families house, besides an "uh oh... oh... ahhhh no!" when the goat failed his crossing. and a laugh communicating misfortune.
but i didn't mind not talking, and i wasn't too sure if he even spoke english. i was traveling through the french speaking region of cameroon, and would be the entire trip. i took out my imaginary case, put twi inside and told twi i would be coming back, then sealed it tight.
i won't forget about you. i promise. yebehyia.
i was slipping my feet out of dusty village sandals into sleek jeweled slippers.
but i wasn't going to feel out of place. all my family has a way of being both prestigious and incredibly down to earth. of appearing glamorous and easily approachable. they live their rich lifestyle in a proud 'i found it on sale' type of way, jumping into their big glassy shimmering pools in formal evening wear.
they aren't pretentious.
we pulled up to a black gate, two men in guard uniforms and guns strapped over their shoulders opened it for us, and we drove up to the house i had heard so much about. my aunt was standing outside, looking beautiful of course, waving.
i had finally made it.
before i had a chance to lean over and pull the handle, the door opened for me.
"thank you." i told the driver, then i jumped down and went over to my aunt.
she had her arms outstretched and was laughing out thrill, she's dramatic by nature. "ohh kacie!!!"
"judi!"
we gave a warm hug and then she began on the beginning of a series of a million and one stories, all of which were animated and told with the same amount of energy and urgency, smoothly transferring from one onto the next like an Olympic relay race. sort of like bob, but in a more settling sane way.
we cruised through their house, which was obviously more of a mansion, and she tried to orientate me. i dropped my bag off in my youngest cousin's room, who hasn't grown older than 3 years old in my time warp memory, but will soon be celebrating her 14th birthday. "she's almost 14?!" i could barely believe it, but i didn't dare say that to her later, that would make me into one of those weird relatives. the kind you don't see for a long time and can only stare and comment about how big you've gotten. the kind that i was about to be but pretend not to be. "then how old is Torri?"
"she's turning 16 on Saturday!" judi said. then she went on to tell me of a fabulous surprise birthday party they threw for her just a few days prior. "since we'll be on our family trip for her birthday, and she really wanted something special, i thought it'd be really fun to give her a little surprise. i mean, you know us kacie, i don't know what she was expecting, she knows she wasn't getting a car. imagine that!" then she imitated driving up in a beautiful convertible and waved over to the wall. "beep beep, hello!!!" we both laughed. "she knows we aren't like that, so instead i just woke up really early..." judi has a way of stretching out her words and making very dedicated eye contact during her stories so that the intensity knocks up a few notches and you're drawn in whether you were willing or not. i was willing. "... i woke up really early..."
and she moves her body like a dancer. her hands, her head, her shoulders are erect.
"... i woke up really early, and cooked all this special food for her, cake, chocolate mousse. uuummm, chocolate mousse, it was so fun! we'll have to eat that after lunch, there's still some left." she said, giggling and letting me in on her secret. "are you hungry?"
"very."
"good, because i planned bean tacos for you. i couldn't remember if you were still a vegetarian or what, so i figured bean tacos would be safe. the cooks have finished and the table is set so let's go do that, let's go eat bean tacos. then we can have the chocolate mousse, won't that be fun?!"
it sounded perfect to me.
when we were sitting at the table i asked "what's this?"
"oh it's The Buzzer." she said, overacting being official, clipping her big full lips together and perking up her eyebrows. "i still can't ring it without laughing. really. try it." she pushed it over in my direction. it was a small white rectangle chunk with a button on top.
"what would i say?"
"Francis will come out and ask you what you want. but we can do that later, for the dessert."
we sat and assembled tacos with all the beautiful ingredients splayed out on the table.
"i like to eat here, it's more intimate. so when it's just me and niels, or like this right now, me and you, i try to get them to set us up out here. it's just too creepy eating at that huge dining room table when it's not full, you know!?!"
"how often do you eat lunch with niels?"
"he tries to come home in the afternoon everyday."
i respect my uncle. he is a true family man. and i respect my aunt. they've raised a beautiful family.
i was onto my 4th taco. i couldn't control myself, it was all too good. i was trying not to apologize for my over appetite, i can't stand listening to woman apologizing for eating because i know what they are really apologizing for.
sorry for daring to appear unsexy, sorry for choosing myself over image, sorry for not being a "lady".
but when there were no more shells and i realized i had eaten more than my fare share i did squeak out a sorry. that was a sorry for being inconsiderate.
"oh keep eating! here-" she said, sliding The Buzzer over to me "we can get some more."
i pushed it and we both cracked up. my index finger had beckoned a servant and he was standing by my side in less than a minute with a silver tray and big willing eyes. i felt really weird. i hated it from an outside perspective, but as an insider it seemed okay for the moment. i couldn't over analyze it now, i had to eat more tacos.
"um, do you think we could get some more taco shells?"
"yes of course." he said, nodding and turning with the precision of a cadet.
when he came back judi asked for the bowl of mousse from the fridge. i believe there were more than 6 fridges, but he apparently knew which one she was talking about.
"yes Madame." he said.
"with 2 spoons also! and no bowls, just bring it in the big green bowl it's already in."
"Madame, no bowls?"
"no bowls. just spoons. thanks."
"yes Madame."
we chatted some more and my head began to spin from all the options. options of food, things to talk about, paintings to stare at, rooms to discover, ways to focus my mind. options of how to feel, being so rich in a world so poor.
Francis began to try and clear a space for the mousse, which looked delicious.
"oh it's okay francis, you can just put the bowl over on the table down there."
"yes Madame."
then he placed it on the low lying coffee table and looked at us like he was either making a huge mistake, or we were crazy.
"thanks" we said.
we walked over with our spoons in hand, sat down cross legged, and dug in. i could feel a double chin growing with each bite, and i embraced it, temporarily.
"so Yannika has a soccer game this afternoon at her school. it's parents versus students and i sort of signed you up as a competitor. i thought it'd be fun! i'll play too..."
i was exhausted and needed to sleep, but if i couldn't do that soccer was the next best thing.
"sure, that sounds like a lot of fun."
i noticed i still felt that strange feeling, the one i had in the airport with my uncle, the disorientation. almost as if i was watching a video of myself. the feeling of jet lag, or drugs. i wanted it to go away.
once i saw my cousins, played soccer, and took a nap, all would be fine. i was sure.
i was just glad to be with my family.
cameroon- arrival
i weaved my way through the airport, glad to finally have my feet planted in Cameroon. i was curious who was going to pick me up.
when i made it out of the corridors i saw a young man standing in front of me, in his early 20's (although africans tend to look very young for their age) holding a paper with my name on it, spelled incorrectly. the error made me feel at home already. and i got a weird thrill from being one of the 'sign people'. i always get off an airplane wondering about those people, the ones greeted by their own name instead of a hug. the ones that walk by me, trailing a uniformed man, while i'm tight in a hold by someone i love. i couldn't decide if i thought it was sad, or official and intriguing.
"hi” i extended my hand “I’m kacie.”
“good evening. His Excellency is waiting for you in the VIP lounge. We will go down there shortly. ” then he flipped my name over exposing another.
“who?” I asked.
“His Excellency."
"my uncle?"
"Yes."
“ohhh, okay.” I stood there, in my own amusement, until the other people he was waiting for showed up. Then we all walked through the airport together, breezing past formalities that I usually partake in, like, standing in lines, filling out forms, showing my passport. there were a few men, in uniforms, whisking us through.
We walked up to a door with big letters on it.
VIP.
It opened and... I was granted access.
My uncle niels was sitting on a couch, looking comfortable and so much like home to me.
He saw me and rose, all 6’6 of him. “kacie…” he said, in his calm casual way.
“Niels!!!”
we embraced, and sat back down. While we were talking i began to get that funny feeling, of physically being somewhere but still trying to mentally catch up. i’ve only associated Africa with being far far away from my family, but now I had both.
“we’re just waiting for them to bring back your passport.” he told me.
I hadn’t realized it wasn’t in my possession but it had been a long day. Waiting in the airport was a trip of it’s own, and now it was 1:30 a.m. and we both were tired.
“I have to give a speech tomorrow, at 8 in the morning, so the driver will drop you off tonite at Claude and Rob’s house. They’re friends of ours, you’ll like them, but you might not even get a chance to see them because the driver will be back to the house tomorrow by 9 to pick you up and bring you to Yaounde. Judi’s really excited to see you and the kid’s get out of school in the afternoon. Is that all you brought?” he pointed at my backpack.
“yes.”
He thought my light packing was funny. He has resemblance to my mother, not in anything obvious, but enough to make me miss her by looking at him. they have similar skin, skin that knows how to absorb sun well, skin that has spent a happy childhood raised a block from the beach but that doesn't look worn. “okay, well Judi has a lot planned for you two. And the girls have been looking forward to this. You’re going to have a lot of fun. Are you excited to be here?”
“very excited.”
I was quite content just listening to his voice, it’s peaceful and unassuming. i was barely paying attention to the itinerary he began to touch on for the 2 week stay. My mind has a hard time grasping specifics when it comes to dates and time. it prefers to be surprised, so instead it goes blank. But what I did understand was that we were going to be traveling, a lot.
My passport was delivered.
“Your Excellency the vehicle is waiting.”
Niels turned and smirked at me. “it’s a little over the top here, you’ll see.”
We stepped up into the armored vehicle; bullet proof tinted windows, completely capable of driving over land mines, AC chilling it to the point of making it arctic, windshield big and solid, vacuumed carpets, a driver.
This was going to be an interesting trip.
when i made it out of the corridors i saw a young man standing in front of me, in his early 20's (although africans tend to look very young for their age) holding a paper with my name on it, spelled incorrectly. the error made me feel at home already. and i got a weird thrill from being one of the 'sign people'. i always get off an airplane wondering about those people, the ones greeted by their own name instead of a hug. the ones that walk by me, trailing a uniformed man, while i'm tight in a hold by someone i love. i couldn't decide if i thought it was sad, or official and intriguing.
"hi” i extended my hand “I’m kacie.”
“good evening. His Excellency is waiting for you in the VIP lounge. We will go down there shortly. ” then he flipped my name over exposing another.
“who?” I asked.
“His Excellency."
"my uncle?"
"Yes."
“ohhh, okay.” I stood there, in my own amusement, until the other people he was waiting for showed up. Then we all walked through the airport together, breezing past formalities that I usually partake in, like, standing in lines, filling out forms, showing my passport. there were a few men, in uniforms, whisking us through.
We walked up to a door with big letters on it.
VIP.
It opened and... I was granted access.
My uncle niels was sitting on a couch, looking comfortable and so much like home to me.
He saw me and rose, all 6’6 of him. “kacie…” he said, in his calm casual way.
“Niels!!!”
we embraced, and sat back down. While we were talking i began to get that funny feeling, of physically being somewhere but still trying to mentally catch up. i’ve only associated Africa with being far far away from my family, but now I had both.
“we’re just waiting for them to bring back your passport.” he told me.
I hadn’t realized it wasn’t in my possession but it had been a long day. Waiting in the airport was a trip of it’s own, and now it was 1:30 a.m. and we both were tired.
“I have to give a speech tomorrow, at 8 in the morning, so the driver will drop you off tonite at Claude and Rob’s house. They’re friends of ours, you’ll like them, but you might not even get a chance to see them because the driver will be back to the house tomorrow by 9 to pick you up and bring you to Yaounde. Judi’s really excited to see you and the kid’s get out of school in the afternoon. Is that all you brought?” he pointed at my backpack.
“yes.”
He thought my light packing was funny. He has resemblance to my mother, not in anything obvious, but enough to make me miss her by looking at him. they have similar skin, skin that knows how to absorb sun well, skin that has spent a happy childhood raised a block from the beach but that doesn't look worn. “okay, well Judi has a lot planned for you two. And the girls have been looking forward to this. You’re going to have a lot of fun. Are you excited to be here?”
“very excited.”
I was quite content just listening to his voice, it’s peaceful and unassuming. i was barely paying attention to the itinerary he began to touch on for the 2 week stay. My mind has a hard time grasping specifics when it comes to dates and time. it prefers to be surprised, so instead it goes blank. But what I did understand was that we were going to be traveling, a lot.
My passport was delivered.
“Your Excellency the vehicle is waiting.”
Niels turned and smirked at me. “it’s a little over the top here, you’ll see.”
We stepped up into the armored vehicle; bullet proof tinted windows, completely capable of driving over land mines, AC chilling it to the point of making it arctic, windshield big and solid, vacuumed carpets, a driver.
This was going to be an interesting trip.
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