I truly cannot believe I am
leaving Cameroon tomorrow. It has been a crazy 3.5 months, so many ups and so
many downs. I’ve learned so much about myself, about living in a culture
radically different from my own, and about life in general. I will never forget
going to a traditional chief party in Dschang, celebrating the fête du mouton
in Ngaoundéré, my visits to the village in Kribi, getting about a million bug
bites, puking on the side of the road, laughs and beers with my amazing group,
bucket showers, hand washing my laundry, learning how to eat every morsel of
chicken off the bone with my hands and exploring the wonderful city of Yaoundé.
Though they will never read this, I must thank my families that helped me,
frustrated me, babied me and loved me every step of the way during this
adventure. My final thoughts lie within these experiences that made me so much
stronger and a lot more open to others. Though I love my American, efficient,
proactive, sanitary culture more now than ever, the Cameroonian values of
family and of stopping to enjoy life as it passes have touched me.
For my final night I hung out
with my incredible Yaoundé family. They have two cousins visiting who are
wonderful. We put up a fake Christmas tree and decorated it with ornaments and
flashing, neon Christmas lights. The four kids and I held hands around the tree
and sang Christmas songs, though I don’t know the French words. As a special
treat we went out to eat at a fast food place. Ilana, my 5 year old sister, sat
on my lap on the way there, and she and her cousin insisted on sitting on
either side of me at dinner. On the way back we drove for a while around
Yaoundé, I saw so many memories flashing by me in a city that used to be so
distant. Our many trips to La King for fabric, our crazy clubbing night at
Safari, scary visits to Marché Central, shopping on the side of the road, and
finally back in my home neighborhood, the local smoothie seller. It’s hard to
accept that I may not ever see this city again.
Sitting in the car with my family
I felt so at home. In town, you can’t forget for a second that you are a
stranger, you are judged by your race, objectified and screamed at about every
10 seconds. I am confronted with my skin color every time I step out from my
house, something I have struggled with a lot. But I realized tonight, as a
caught a glimpse of myself in the rearview mirror, that I was surprised by my
white skin. I don’t feel like a stranger in my family, I don’t feel different,
I feel like the older sister, wholly accepted. I am beyond lucky I ended up in
a family as special as this one, and I will never forget what they have taught
me, all they have done for my experience here, and all the love they have given
me. I am excited to go home, but it will not be easy to leave a family and a
country that I have grown to love.
I will post my final paper (the
English version unless anyone is brave enough to take on the French version)
when I have fast enough internet at home. Thank you to all that took the time
to read about my adventures! I appreciate it a lot, and it was a lot of fun to
write about them. Until my next adventure…
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