Boquito

Last Saturday, my Bafia host Mom took me on an afternoon adventure to the village she grew up in. We shared a motorcycle taxi (from this day forward referred to as a moto) to the l’agence. The l’agence or agency is a parking lot filled with motos, cars, vans & mini-buses that are going every which direction once they fill up with twice as many people as they can reasonably accommodate.

We bought our seats in a car (small sedan) that was headed in the direction of Boquito and some bread as a gift for my host Mom’s mother. There were 9 total adults and a toddler in the car. This is a pretty elementary car ride from what I’ve heard; one volunteer got up to 17 in a single trip! No worries, at those high of numbers at least a handful of people are riding in the trunk and maybe a few on the windshield. (Don’t worry Mom, as a Peace Corps Volunteer I’m forbidden to ride on windshields).
Anyways, I shared the front passenger seat with a Maman (older Cameroonian woman), the toddler, our huge sack of bread and my host Mom’s right leg. My host Mom’s left leg shared the driver’s seat with our Chauffeur and then five adults shared the back seat. Luckily our drive was only 45 minutes long.

We arrived in Boquito where it was reaffirmed to me that Cameroonians are the most generous people I have ever met. We first stopped by her Mom’s place where we were warmly greeted (well, three kids shrieked at the sight of me and almost cried when their Dad made them greet me and shake my hand...) with two huge branches of bananas and a large sack of oranges. After visiting a while, we proceeded to take a tour of the village with each quick visit adding to the “this feels like Christmas!” feeling. Along with the original 30ish pounds of fruit we acquired, we were generously gifted plantains, potatoes, macabo, casamangas, beer, lunch, and palm wine.

After sharing some palm wine and conversation with my host Mom’s family, we and all of our presents climbed on the back of a moto to the center of the village where we found another sedan to take us back to Bafia. This ride was a bit more comfortable as there were just four of us to share the back seat. And, best yet, one of the fellow passengers played some Celion Dion for us to “rock out” to. I can’t say that

I was ever the hugest Celion Dion fan back in the States, but I’ll admit that there is something comforting about hearing her music here – I guess it makes home not feel so far away.

P.S. Mom, I promise not to ride in any trunks either. :)