Laughter

In an effort to balance some recent serious postings I think now is a good time to write about what makes me laugh in Cameroon. 

People’s perceptions of me: I do not think a week goes by that someone doesn’t ask me where I am from.  I usually respond by saying, “Guess”.  Sometimes the person will say the US right away, but other times they will say Germany, Canada, the UK, or the Netherlands, and just today someone guessed Tokyo.  I still am proud of the day when someone said Morocco because of the way I was dressed that day.  Of course, he also thought I was a refugee from that country looking for a job in Cameroon, so I don’t know what that really says about my African style and composure.  However, the funniest so far was when I played the game with a half-drunk man in a taxi in Bamenda.  After he asked me and I said, “Guess” he said, “I haven’t heard of that country, I’ll have to look at my atlas.”

Children:  It is always hard not to smile and laugh when children are around.  Sometimes I laugh at their hats like in the picture below:

More commonly, I laugh at their greetings.  There is a group of children that I pass on my runs.  Without fail they yell out, “Good morning, white man!” but lately they have change their greeting to, “Good morning my friend!”  After I pass by, they resolutely shout out, “Good Bye!”

Awkward situations: Sometimes these situations are just embarrassing like people starring at me when I forgot to greet the Fon (the Northwest version of a tribal chief) properly, or forgetting that pants refers to undergarments instead trousers, but sometimes they are just funny.  For example, last week tile was installed in my house and it is beautiful, but slippery.  A couple of nights ago, right before I went to bed, I climbed the ladder to get something from my loft.  Just as I place my foot on the top rung, I felt the ladder slip from underneath me.  I quickly scrabbled onto the loft floor, but then realized I had no way to get back downstairs.   I called out the window and a guard heard my pleas for help. The next problem was that my house was locked from the inside and no spare keys.  Thankfully, he found an open window and climbed through, “like a pussy cat,” as he said and held the ladder while I climbed back down in my pajamas.  Ever since that night I feel a special bond with Joe.   

Names: Some Cameroon names (and the people, for that matter) are so inspirational you feel like you’ve had your daily devotion after meeting them.  Hope, Faith, Godlove, Blessing, Promise, Favor, to name just a few.  But sometimes it is hard not to laugh out loud when someone introduces himself as Mystery, Danger, Maxim, Spy, or Ma Boy.  I have recently been given a Banso name, Fomonyuy.  It means God’s gift.  I find that having a traditional name is handy when men are proposing marriage and I don’t want to give them my real name.     

Pagne: The market is full of colorful fabrics just waiting for someone to buy and make dresses in all sorts of styles.  Usually these fabrics are just colorful designs, but sometimes I laugh when I see objects on them like lampshades and tea kettles, the President Paul Biya, or food like beans and groundnuts. I’m still searching for the right groundnut pagne.

Lampshade Pagne. 

Traveling salesmen: This is often the best source of humor in Cameroon.  Whenever I travel between Bamenda to Douala or Yaoundé, it is common to have a man on the bus who is trying to sell his magic potion that cures every kind of sickness and disease.  My favorite traveling salesman is a renaissance man.  He first comes on board the bus, gives us traveling advice about where to buy food along the road, and warns us not to put our hands outside the bus. Then he leads us in corporate prayers, songs, and dances.  He gets us moving around on the bus shaking people’s hands and singing.  After that, he gets out his black stone to cure snake bites and his magic potion to cure hemorrhoids, diabetes, cough, and reproductive problems and shows us exactly how to use it on different body orifices.  I have never bought anything from him, but I have bought sesame seeds in the market that promised the same miraculous treatment.  I ate some granola with the sesame seeds. I don’t feel any different.       

     

Joy is the most infallible sign of the presence of God

Teilhard de Chardin