Waiting for my ride

Now, you’ll hear all types of stories from folks who’ve made it through the ritual of waiting for someone to pick you up. There can be all types of horror stories. Akilah had to deal with people that were a little pushier in Yaoundé. You know folks basically coming up to you and taking your bags to their taxi, and this is before even mustering a word to you. It wasn’t as bad in Douala.

Remember that entourage of folks I mentioned were outside? As I walked out of the door, the crowd just made everything so confusing. But it turns out they were there to greet La Dumas; I’m told he’s a soccer player from Ghana.

So, I go to the side, over near an office, and place two of my three too many bags down (yep, I had three bags. . .why? Gifts of course) to be comfortable. What’d I do that for? Next thing you know there were about four guys, who at differing times, wanted to either help me to a taxi, make a call – on my behalf of course – to check and see where my friends were, or even to just watch them for me as I went to make the call myself.

There was this one guy though, can’t remember his name. He was the first to approach me. So I’m waiting for some aggression on his part to get my luggage to a cab, and he was actually very kind. He asked if I needed assistance getting where I needed to go, or if I wanted anything. After assuring he knew I was fine, he still stood there beside me.

Essentially, he became my talking partner for the next thirty minutes or so. We talked about a few of the things going on in America, the Cameroon soccer team, and the aggression of the other “psuedo-porters” at the airport.

Of course while talking, I was approached by several individuals. One guy, after asking me about four or five times if I needed help, decided he would try standing there with the other gentleman. When it proved too long for him, he just asked if I had any coins to give him and his friends. You know, American coins. . .spare change. When he finally understood “No!” he moved on.

There were several times when I wasn’t certain if while the crowd of guys next to me were debating, someone wouldn’t try to snatch one of my bags, that I was kind of on edge. However, there was nothing to worry about. Not that I could tell.

Well at like 7:20 or so, I happened to look up and saw Akilah and Stephen (another PCV) coming for me. Mind you, I noticed them before they noticed me. Didn’t matter, I was just happy to see a familiar face.

Phew, now on to Limbé.