In America, I Will Not Be Able To...

With only a handful of weeks left, I have to enjoy certain things I can do in Cameroon that I can't in America.

 

In America, I will not be able to…

 

… Litter indiscriminately.

 

Cameroon is your trashcan.  Toss your wrapper anywhere you want because there will not be trashcans wherever you're going.  Along the same lines:

 

… Pee just about anywhere I want.

 

Cameroon is your urinal.  You can't pee anywhere of course, for instance on the front left tire of the mayor's new ride, but on the side of the road, no problem.  I do keep it classy in Lagdo, but usually the bus on longer trips just stops at a random village along the road where that tree will have to do.

 

… Walk around livestock on a daily basis.

 

Sometimes being au village feels like living in a petting zoo.  I don't blink twice walking around goats, pigs, sheep, and herds of cattle as I go about my business in Lagdo.  You're always honking at, swerving around, or being delayed by animals in the road.  One time I saw someone herding cows through Garoua, the provincial capital.

 

… Take advantage of being white and having it be completely acceptable.

 

… Order random peoples' kids to do things for me without pay.

 

This might be the best thing about Cameroon.  Anyone you see that looks kind of young is your bitch.  I could be sitting at the bar and feel the urge for

 

… Not tip.

Tipping waiters, taxi drivers, etc., just isn't done here in Cameroon.  Actually, I'm pro-not tipping.  I've just never understood it: why can't the restaurant just charge an extra dollar or two per meal to pay the waiters more?  The customer is going to pay no matter what.  Tipping just creates confusion, especially in situations where it's not completely expected, which an episode of Curb Your Enthusiasm lampooned.  Either way, I'm going to have to do it.  Dommage. 

 

… Be one of 16 people in a van made for seven.

Thirty years from now, I'll be having coffee in my breakfast nook looking over Central Park reading the Wall Street Journal.  I'll read a story about investment in West Africa, put the paper down, stare out the window, remember being squished in cars where the ignition was broken and had to be hot-wired to start, and think:  Thank Allah I'll never have to ride in bush taxis again.

… Be called "white" by complete strangers as a proper greeting. 

This is most frustrating by people who know better.  For instance, the mayor of Ngong, Harvard's village, in meeting Harvard for the first time greeted him as follows: "How are you, nasaara?" like it was the most natural thing.  This is the second most powerful man in an arrondissement of over fifty thousand people.

 

… Seriously call a black guy or another white person "my brother" (or "sister") in everyday conversation.

… Be racially insensitive.

This final thing I won't be able to do is all relative.  In America, you can't communicate with strangers by stating how they look.  Cameroonians don't get this.  They just don't understand how annoying it is for an American to be stared at or called "nasaara" every day.  This attitude rubs off on volunteers, so if we throw it right back at people here, they don't blink twice. 

It's not just your physical appearance that people call you.  There aren't really words in Fulfuldé for "sir", "madam", etc., so you just call someone you don't know as Woman or Man.  For instance, I would walk into a Starbucks and tell the girl at the counter, "Hey, Woman, make me a mocha."  (I refuse to say the word "barista," so "girl at the counter" is what a female Starbucks employee is called.  Isn't it enough that we're forced and have accepted to call mediums large?)