Today Francis sat with me as I watched the movie “Bridesmaids” on my computer.  I say it in that context because I am not quite sure if he was actually watching it with me or just laughing at parts when I was laughing. His English is not that good and I’m pretty sure he wasn’t following what the crazy white girls were talking about. I really enjoy spending time with him, I learn the most from him as he learns from me. There is no sense of privacy in Cameroonian culture; it is weird to be in your room by yourself because they are so big on community, so at any moment I expect Francis or Vladimir to barge in. At least Francis knocks, occasionally. We listen to music together a lot and help each other with our language. It is hilarious to hear him say “laundry.” He really drags out the laaauuuuuundry part of it in a country-sounding manner. I crack up every time and now he says it on purpose to make me laugh.

He showed me how to wash my clothes by hand for the first time on Sunday.  We first got on the moto and went to the local corner store, (a 3x3ft. tin roof shack), that sells cell phone credit, bread, candy, detergent (what we were in search of), and minor necessities. We came back and set up the two wash buckets, one soapy bucket and one rinse bucket.  The whole family and extended family was out on the porch to watch whitey wash his clothes by hand for the first time. I am still not quite sure who actually is blood related in this house. It doesn’t matter who stops by, they are getting fed and have a place to sleep if they need. Papa Felippe saw how dirty my jeans were and said we would need a brush to get the red clay stains out. Back on the moto we go.

The first two places didn’t have any brushes left, but we ran into one of Francis’ friends, Dani, who I see about three times a day walking around town. He rather usually sees me first and I hear a, “JJEAAAAAACCCOOOOOOOOOO” off in the distance somewhere and spin around until I see Dani throwing up a peace sign. I like to call him the pimp of the town, always dressed in some bright awesome get up, hissing, hollering and smooching at every girl that passes. Today he was dressed in a brown suede sport coat, designer jeans, flips flops, and a flower printed bright red baseball cap.

Francis asked him if he knew where we could get a brush. Dani laughs and tells him to scoot back on the moto, throws his leg over, Francis switches to the back and so me sandwiched between Dani and Francis on a 150cc moto go roaring off in search of a brush. Francis yelling from the back, “EASY DANI! EASY DANI!” Francis drives really slow and cautious sometimes grinding through the gears while Dani flies through the gears and works the clutch seamlessly screaming up hills and leaning through roundabouts like he doesn’t have an extra two people on the back of the bike. We head straight for the super marche which is closed even though its Sunday and Centre Ville is bustling with people and street vendors. Dani reroutes and zigs zags the moto across traffic and cuts down an alley way crowded with street vendors, with maybe a foot to spare on either side, all while smooching and hollering at every fine girl he sees. We finally come to a little stand that Dani stops at and tells me to go inside. They will have a brush, he reassures me. Sure enough 300 CFA later ($0.70) and I’m back on the moto. Francis slides on behind me and Dani whips the moto around on a dime in an area less than the size of an American parking space, never putting his foot down for balance and not ever wobbling a bit. All while dodging foot deep potholes that litter the clay street. We head back home but not before Dani hollers at twenty or so more women and yells at every moto taxi we pass on the road as we roar by them laughing the whole way and slapping my leg in content. We drop Dani off at the stand where we got the detergent because he had a flip-flop blow out and there’s a local man crouched on the ground with 50+ random shoes and sandles to be fixed in front of him. 

An hour and 300 CFA later we make it back home and can start my laundry.  The actual task of doing the laundry was rather enjoyable with Francis by my side doing half of it while jamming to some Bob Marley. One thing I have noticed in my travels is that no matter where I go, everyone knows Bob Marley. I’m finishing this entry by kerosene lantern, which I find quite enjoyable. The power has been out for a day and a half due to the severe downpour that just so happened to start as soon as I had my clean clothes situated just right on the broken down car in the front yard and clothes line. Oh well, this is Africa…