but dust

there are two seasons in cameroon: wet and dry. it is currently situated in the dry season until mid-month next. thusly, i am constantly covered with reddish dust. there are few lawns around here so its really all over the place. i clean my shoes twice weekly! IMAGINE! despite my efforts, i am clearly considered a bum due to my sweaty face and dusty body. Cameroonians, on the other hand, are quite well put together. they always have clean fashionable shoes, nice shirts, and dress pants. every day. i, on the other hand, brought three t shirts (all of which are old) two cowboy shirts (they feel somehow inappropriate i dont know why) and two dress shirts. i have come to rely on these shirts heavily...which means they are the ones that get covered in dust. in fact, when i leave this cybercafe i just may purchase a cameroonian dress shirt. perhaps one with a lion on it.

all goes well here. i am rarely afraid and rarely bored. i certainly miss home, but i think i will make it fine. i have been in this francophone keyboard town for a week now and have 5 or 6 days to go until i visit AN ANGLOPHONE PORTION OF THE COUNTRY. there, i plan to speak exclusively in the queen's.

i have met several big deals, if you will. first, i met a famous cameroonian anti corruption politician (due to his anti corruption tendancies, he is no longer a minister) who said that there is "only one kind of democracy, and it is essential for development". much discussion followed this assertion. next i met a traditional chief of the bamileke people(the largest single ethnicity in cameroon). he was described as a kind and sophisticated intellectual. he lived up to that description and could also be described as smooth talking and gigantic. he had a deep soft voice and talked about his history as chief while he led us around his village. apparently, when he became chief he had to be isolated in a certain building until his wives had a boy and a girl. meanwhile, no one could farm, party, or have a funeral.

this took three years.

after that, i met the sous-prefet of dschang cameroon. he is like a mayor sent by the central government to work on managing the town. prefets in cameroon have an awful reputation of being corrupt and innefective. this man may possibly have been that, but was nonetheless awesome. he gave the visiting students a huge dinner as well as cameroonian beer. he talked about voter independance and the great hopes he has of a clean election next year. he, like the chief, had an image of himself shaking hands with a photoshopped obama.

every ten people are wearing an obama shirt of some sort. strangers come up to me and ask how my father obama is doing. big scary men will yell out their windows "obama americain!"

thank you mr.president