para todas ustedes que no saben vacilar...

there is controversy about the malaria pills, but i for one stand apart from it and am glad to support my country by taking methloquine weekly. we should leave for the airport in a bit to get on a plane to paris. one guy said that he would be glad to finally get away from technology and the rhythm of life here. mostly everyone brought at least two of the following: ipod, digital camera, video camera, laptop. it is also rumour that most people arriving in cameroun of my type buy a cell phone so they can text message eachother and keep in touch. we read from our glossy program books quotes made by foreigners about americans and say what is it about american culture that makes the person say this and how could you adapt. i am tired of waiting to arrive in cameroun so i will make it unclear when i actually arrive.

we had to wait for about four hours in the gate at the philadelphia airport because they wanted us to check in early. i thought i could pass all the time studying my french book. i read it for a bit and stopped i couldn't say why to stare off at the advertisement about the new way to conduct business the revolution to be inspired by some portable electronic device, the utopian world "a world on time." i sat back. on the plane there wasn't enough leg room but i brought some vodka to supplement the wine that air france would give to us. i entertained myself by trying to make my back as straight as possible so that in the event that i were to fall asleep i would not wake up with an ache in my neck. i didn't fall asleep for a while becuase i kept chewing the ice cubes that come in the cup and sneaking to the back of the cabin to steal pretzels.

we landed first in douala and according to airline policy they have to spray the plane down with some antiseptic spray. many africans came on the plane with tons of luggage and dried meat and fruit. just like bedreddin's blog said, i got third in line at the customs line in douala. they searched the first guy, the new jersey one afraid of blood draws, until they noticed the line filling up. they opened up a new line so i was in the back of this original one. the second one got a brief leafing through of books; they just looked up briefly at me and waved me past. there was a huge bustle at passport control but some peace corps lady an african lady had all our passports in hand and got them stamped en seguida everyone was talking so loudly. i shaked some guy's hand on the street and they told me not to draw attention to myself. so we are at the jouvence hotel in cameroon. i have arrived safely. we have some meetings here then will go to bandjou in this red bus they showed it to us. once we get to bandjou we will stop speaking english officially but i know the group will group up and speak english in circles. i will try to avoid these circles. they say spanish is spoken in the centers of the big cities here. it is cooler because of the high elevation. cargos of candied ginger, cloth from bangladesh, groundnuts and cashew butter, make their way up from the coast to be eaten on thin wavers of fried and salted cassava. i have to start calling it manioc. i am going to sneak out and buy a grass cutter from the man on the motorcycle and cook it one day.