Racial equality for America, but not for Cameroon...
on Tales from a Mud Hut (Cameroon), 05/Nov/2008 15:29, 34 days ago
One baking hot November afternoon, my colleague and I were sat by the pool (contemplating how difficult life as a volunteer can be) when we saw something very strange. A tall, skinny man had entered the water.  He would not have been particularly remarkable were it not for the fact that he was wearing a full body swimsuit at least three sizes too big for him.  He was also acting very peculiarly: at random moments he would suddenly leap from the pool, run a lap around the edge and then throw himself back into the water head-first in a manoeuvre that reminded me strongly of a Fosbury Flop.  He would then turn his head eagerly in our direction to find out whether or not we had been watching.We had of course been watching - I've not seen anything so entertaining in years - but we pretended to be heavily absorbed in our books.  After several unsuccessful attempts to get our attention, the man (I have christened him Baggy Swimsuit) lost patience and swam over to our side of the pool."You don't remember me, do you?" he said when he reached us.  I had to admit that I did not.  "I talked to you at the wedding," continued Baggy Swimsuit.  Now I remembered.  A few weeks ago, a British volunteer had married a Cameroonian and the entire VSO contingent had been invited to the reception.  Unable to dance  (I am physically incapable of dancing to any music that requires me to move my hips and my feet at the same time, and African music falls into this category) I contented myself with sitting at the side, rebuffing as many men as possible with the 'my fiance doesn't like me talking to strange men' line that had worked so well on you-know-who.  Baggy Swimsuit had been one of those rebuffed - although, thinking back, he had been one of the most difficult to convince.'I've forgotten your name,' said Baggy Swimsuit suddenly.  I was in no hurry to remind him so I said 'devine,' which means 'guess'.  'Ahh, Divine,' he replied, 'now I remember!'  And he swam away, satisfied, to dazzle us with yet more Fosbury Flops.This incident and countless others have made me reflect on the curious attitude towards race in this country.  I have never received so much attention in my life and it's bizarre to think that it is entirely because of my skin colour.  Before I came to Africa, I had never viewed my identity in terms of race or ethnicity - in fact, I hardly thought about it at all.  Here, however, the colour of my skin IS my identity: I am a 'nasaara', 'la blanche', someone from the West.  I embody all the connotations therein, from sexual promiscuity to advanced technology and healthcare.  I represent money, power and visa opportunities.  I therefore receive an inordinate amount of attention as I go about my daily business.  The fact that Cameroonians themselves place me on a pedestal because of my race definitely surprised me.  Yacoubou has tried to convince me many times that my country is far more advanced and developed than his, not only in economic terms but also socially and culturally.  My presence has been requested at meetings and on trips that don't have anything to do with me, simply because having a white person as part of the delegation adds clout.  Sometimes I want to shout, 'I'm 25!  I'm fresh out of university!  You all know much more about this than I do, so why are you all deferring to me?'It's interesting to see how volunteers have reacted to their newfound rock star status here.  I suppose it's difficult not to let it go to your head, but sometimes it makes people do things that they would probably never even contemplate back home.  One country's quiet, middle-aged businessman is another country's serial dater of ever younger women.  I was confused about the contradictory rules for giving way at roundabouts until I learnt that everyone gives way to the white girl on the bike.  And as we discovered recently, one disapproving look from a recently splashed white swimmer can lead a lifeguard to evict an entire pool of black swimmers in seconds, whether that was the white swimmer's intention or not (it was not).  As Americans elect their first black President, apartheid and segregation are still alive and kicking in Africa.