Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Cameroon Christmas

To borrow a tired expression, if you had told me 2 years ago that I’d be spending Christmas with a Muslim family in the mountains of Cameroon I would not have believed it. Well most of that is an expression I think. And that sounds like a clichéd thing to say, but looking back at where I was at this time in 2007, preparing to leave for Niger, the opportunity I’d been given seemed like a once in a lifetime experience. Ok, so it was, but life here’s not easy and I need to keep reminding myself that I’m lucky to be here. Thankfully during times like the past few days that’s not a difficult thing to do.

On Christmas Eve Day I met my friend Jibo at his carpentry shop (ha, get it? carpenter?) and we hopped on a moto and bumped and bruised our way into the bush to his family’s compound. He inherited the family after both his parents died sometime in the past year and he lives there with his wife, younger brother Ademou, and a small army of aunts and cousins that I had trouble distinguishing yet alone counting.

Jibo, Ademou, and I spent the afternoon hiking up to the big waterfall that stands like a landmark over Bambui. It ended up being quite the hike, a good 6 miles by my guess, and into really deep bush, but it was definitely worth it. The views were amazing and I tasted strange fruits I had never even seen before; unfortunately none of which were particularly good. I started to wonder if anyone really ate the things, turns out monkeys mostly.

In keeping with the Cameroonians’ bizarre fascination of the photographed image, the guys were all about taking shots against the waterfall. It was pretty hilarious. Near the water I had my first really interesting wildlife encounter when I got what was probably way too close to what was probably a very dangerous snake. Managed some good shots though. Then we stopped by to greet a few of the guys’ friends who were tending to some cattle and climbed some guava trees to snatch up handfuls of fruits to munch on on our way back down. When we got back to the compound I was treated with warm water to bathe for the first time in a good month. I found a new addiction in the hibiscus and pineapple juice people make here and then we stuffed ourselves with Njama Njama (sautéed greens) and Fous Fous (corn flour steamed ball… stuff) before finishing the night at the only public building in Jibo’s village, which for the evening was serving as a night club. Here sugared-up children drunk on Christmas cheer (hopefully) danced late into the night while their parents lined the walls chatting and drinking. Christmas morning came and if you don’t count the time difference, it probably was the latest I’ve ever slept in on that day, 7:30 I think (ok, so I like Christmas a little bit ;)). Anyway, Jibo and I, and eventually his uncle who lives in Bamenda, spent the day bouncing from family to family, town to town spreading well-wishings. Like a bad version of the 3 wisemen, the two Muslims and the atheist went from home to home mooching food and drinks and watching bad bootleg movies late into the afternoon. I intended to spend the night at my friend Austin’s in Bafut, but phone troubles got in the way and I was just too beat to try any harder. So I dragged myself home and called it a Cameroonian Christmas well done. I got to talk to the family over the phone too so I didn’t feel too far removed from all the happenings. I’m due at a wedding, oh, 2 hours ago so I gotta run. Looking forward to sharing lots more on this blog with everybody. So until next time, take care.