Monday, October 29, 2007

Yee-haw.

If there were a competition for the most surreal and unexpected weekend activity in all of Yaounde, we might just have the winner. Yes indeed, this past Friday night we attended a barn dance and pie auction the likes of which one would never expect in Cameroon. Our friends Ann and Ray K. extended the invitation a couple weeks ago already, so we had some time to wonder exactly what the school fundraiser ‘barn dance’ might involve. By the time Ray picked us up Friday evening, we were more than ready to satisfy our curiosity once and for all.

The trip in itself was an adventure, as we were running a bit late and Ray decided to avoid a particularly nasty-looking traffic jam by taking the back roads. His large 4-wheel-drive vehicle was certainly a match for the deeply rutted dirt road we lurched down, but any lesser vehicle would surely have been swallowed in a ditch or stuck in some deep red mud. At last, well-shaken and duly impressed, we were back on a smoother road, and soon after we reached Rain Forest International School, the location of the night’s entertainment. (Also the place where their daughter attends school.)

Dinner was already in full swing on the large back patio of one of the school buildings. There was some sort of straw strewn on the floors, and bush lanterns lit every table. Friendly students clad in denim and cowgirl hats took our admission fees, served us each a few small morsels of chicken-fried steak and a baked potato, and directed us to the picnic table where Ann K. and the kids were already sitting. (We later learned that the salad was on its way, held up in a traffic jam.)


Although there were a few non-white persons in the mix, it was largely a crew of whiteys there at R.F.I.S., and those speaking North-American-accented English seemed to be in the majority. Everyone, particularly the R.F.I.S. students, was all turned out in their wild-west best and seemed to be in high spirits. Occasional microphone announcements interrupted the conversational din: the arrival of the salad, the explanation of the rules for a farming quiz competition, instructions for clearing the tables. The quiz on farming was particularly popular, since the prize for the winning table was a chocolate peanut butter pie. (Alas, our table tasted no victory, settling instead for a dessert of small churros distributed by yet another helpful student.)

At last, dancing time arrived. Everyone moved onto the basketball courts, also strewn with straw, and a woman in jeans and a cowgirl hat clipped on one of those preacher-style lapel mikes and began instructing us in the finer points of the boot-scootin’ boogie. (At this point, Ray and Chris beat a hasty retreat in the big 4x4 for some ‘guy time’ and errand-running.) As ‘Boot-Scootin’ Boogie’ blasted into the night and everyone began steppin’ in unison, I had a ‘pinch me’ moment – am I really in Cameroon right now? What is going on here?

Ann K. and I stayed for the next dance, one involving concentric circles and multiple partners, but when the following dance began with instructions to form groups of eight, we dove for the sidelines. I took a few photos, and by the time all the groups were sorted out, Ray and Chris were back. We all joined to watch the crowd of dancers, smiled at the little ones toddling around the edges, and attempted to talk over the square-dance tunes blaring over the P.A. system. Andre, the youngest of Ann and Ray’s children, located an amazing arachnid of some sort, and had it perched on his wrist. He has no fear of bugs, only great fascination, and is surely destined to be an entomologist when he grows up.

This is Andre's bug friend. If you watch the 4th Harry Potter movie (which we did later in the weekend), you'll see the very same kind of bug featured in a 'Defense against the Dark Arts' classroom demo. No lie!

We watched with special interest as students began bringing pies toward a table at one end of the court, and soon the barn-dance gave way to a full-fledged pie auction. There were several home-made pies at stake, and one of the R.F.I.S. teachers began auctioning them off in grand style. Chocolate cream, apple, raspberry, key lime, lemon…all went for prices of 12,000 cfa or more ($26 +), and the final pie, another magnificent-looking chocolate peanut butter creation, went for 22,000 cfa (over $47 at current exchange rates). Chris and Ray were determined to bring a pie home, and managed to land a chocolate cream for 16,000. Boy howdy, were they ever pleased. So were the rest of us when they shared it. Mmmmm, pie!

All in all, it was a most entertaining evening. Good times, good people, good cause. Also quite thought-provoking though, this microcosm of missionaries and other expats here in Yaounde. They certainly stick together, and their choice of entertainment was surely the most unabashedly ‘American’ thing I can remember doing in years. Although we never left the city limits Friday night, I felt very far from Cameroon. Here we all are, far from our countries of origin, making our lives in Yaounde for different reasons and varying lengths of time. Are people trying to pretend they never left home turf? Would I feel more inclined to do the same if I were here indefinitely, or if Chris and I were here with children? Yaounde is a city of lizards and papaya trees, bustling with people with espresso-colored skin who speak in many languages. During the year that we live here, I’d like to ‘dive in’ to the best of my whitey ability.

3 comments:

Leon Franzen said...

Sounds like everything's going swimmingly. I love reading your posts. It's like adventuring by proxy.

Anyway, nerd power:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Amblypygid

Dan Wilson said...

It sounds like a hoot, but I'm glad that you're taking such a critical eye to your experience there and won't succumb to the desire to make a little America for yourself in Camaroon.

You're missed!

William said...

When I've lived abroad, I feel simultaneously pulled in two directions. The big one is picking up things from where you're living. New languages, new habits, new ways of looking at the world.

But there's this strange countercurrent where a small part of you becomes more intensely like the place you left. You seek out familiar foods. You end up friends with countrymen you'd never become close with back home. You find yourself promoting your country, if only because somebody has to mention the good parts when the bad parts come up.

Glad to see you folks are having a good time. Many thanks for the great posts!