I started a French class this week at the Linguistic Center here in Buea. Those who know me, know that I have taken French but show little facility for the language. The gentleman who administered my placement test asked me several questions in French. My responses were in English. Of course, he said “if you know what I’m asking, why don’t you respond in French?” I’ve had similar conversations before. And of course that is why I am taking the class. I hope to improve my ability to respond in French. I’m also going to take a second class beginning in a couple of weeks at the Franco-Camerounaise Alliance. Cameroon is a bilingual country - English and French are the official languages of the country. Even though Buea is in the Anglophone part of the country, many people here speak French. And I need to be able to speak to them. So wish me luck.

Yesterday was Thanksgiving Day in the US, a very important holiday in my family. Thanks to a group of very nice Americans and their group of international friends, I had a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner. Someone made macaroni and cheese, another made dressing; there was even turkey, sweet potato pie and apple pie. There were other dishes as well, but being homesick was particularly assuaged by the dressing. The conversation was great, replete with stories of innovative auto mechanics, trips to the market, adventures in Niger, Nigeria South Africa, Ethiopia, and Cameroon, with jazz and old school Frankie Beverly and Maze in the background. You can take the woman out of the US, but you can’t take the love for home out of her heart. Thanks, folks, for a wonderful evening.

I’ve had several interesting interactions with students in the last few days. They have told me how so many of them want to leave Cameroon to study or work in the US or Europe, even China. One of the things I’ve told them is that it can be difficult to make ends meet in the US, just as it is here. The conditions may be different, but things are relative. I may be able to live very well on my US salary in Cameroon, but on that same salary in the US, I have to budget carefully to meet all my financial obligations. And the fact that we have poverty and people who don’t earn a living wage is not good press for the US so we don’t publicize those types of things. I suggested to the students that it is not a bad thing to study in the US or Europe if that’s what they’d like to do. I believe that it very important to travel – that exposure teaches you about others and very often it teaches you about yourself and your own country. I also suggested that once they complete their training or studies, they should come back to Cameroon. This country is rich in resources, especially in the vibrancy and potential of the people. I would love to see them all come back to help develop this country. Some of them thought I was a little crazy – they see few opportunities for themselves here. But others understood what I was saying and I hope that is a good thing.

The last week has been a little crazy but I’m still here. I’ve learned something new everyday and I have lots of great research ideas. I had never known that some of the people that live in Cameroon’s coastal region (Limbe, Douala, Kribi) are descendants of returned African Americans. I guess I missed that day in class. I did know that American missionaries had settled here. One who visited and kept traveling was Charles Spencer Smith, an interesting character who took a very controversial stand in support of colonization, although he was Black (see the new book by James T. Campbell, Middle Passages: African American Journeys to Africa, 1787-2005, Penguin, 2006, photo on the 4th photo page in the book center). But some of the freed slaves who went to Liberia and Sierra Leone in particular, made their way along the West African coast settling in Calabar (Nigeria), Malabo (Equatorial Guinea) and Limbe (Cameroon), among other locations. They brought with them pidgin English (sounds a lot like Gullah- and now I know why), Cuban-African music, calypso, some foods, some ways of dressing and other traditions that had originated in Africa but had undergone some revision in the Americas. There are even Johnsons and Taylors living in Limbe – these are my family names. Wouldn’t it be a wonderful thing to find out that the reason I am so connected to Cameroon is more than just academic? Culture is truly a living breathing thing, isn’t it? So thanks to Dr. FONGOT Kini-Yen Kinni, I have some wonderful new research to explore. [Another book along these lines is Epic Journeys of Freedom: Runaway Slaves of the American Revolution and Their Global Quest for Liberty by Cassandra Pybus.]

One of the things that is very interesting to me as a US American is the issue of acceptable personal space. What is comfortable and acceptable is very much bound by culture. For instance, how near do you stand to someone with whom you have entered an elevator? Many people will stand all the way on the opposite side if space permits. Personal space in Cameroon can be tricky for outsiders. Take the taxi experience for instance. If a taxi is full, you are sitting body to body with the next person. If something is on their clothing, it will probably get on yours. Holding hands is a similar case. Holding hands here is something you do with close friends as you’re walking, talking, or anything else. It is common to see boys, girls, men and women holding hands with one another as they move along the street or engage in conversation. My male friends in the States would probably rather be caught with their pants down than holding hands with another man. I have one friend who holds my hand when we’re walking, and it’s slowly becoming okay.