How to Throw a Party: First Edition SEPTEMBER 27

I never envisioned myself sitting on top a couch mounted on a motorcycle riding through the center of Abong-Mbang on my one year anniversary in country… well, it happened! Read on to find out the situation.

September 13, 2014 marked my one-year anniversary in Cameroon. I was very introspective throughout the day and I thought a lot about everything I’ve done, all the people I’ve met, and what I have learned this past year. That morning my friend Vincent came over to help clean my house, but water had been out for a week so we couldn’t wash my clothes and the house was already pretty clean, so instead he slept for a bit and I hung out. I texted Aron saying that we needed to celebrate by playing cards and drinking beer and he told me to head over to his house. I got to his house and we sat around playing “Phase 10,” drinking Amstel beer (the beer that’s currently winning, meaning that you can win free beers and other prizes by looking under the bottle cap), and talking about the 1 year mark. We then threw around the idea of hosting a party in the evening for our friends in town to thank them for being so welcoming to us and also because it was something to do and a good reason to celebrate.

Over the course of the next few hours, we sent our friend Constantine, who was at Aron’s house helping him do laundry and said she would love to cook, to the market for food items. I went back to my house to get my couch to bring over to Aron’s place. I managed to get the thing out of the house all by myself, but got someone to carry it with me to the street. My annoying neighbor (see April post) was looking at me like I was a crazy person when I was flagging down a moto and saying it was not just for me but also for a couch. This is where me sitting on a couch on a moto comes into play… verdict: actually quite comfortable and not scary… I got to Aron’s house and Constantine was beginning food preparations and Aron, his neighbor kids and I were cutting pictures out of Time and National Geographic to put up on the walls of his living room for decoration.

The two of us thought of who we wanted to invite, mostly our coworkers and friends that have helped us with different projects, then practically all of Thibeau’s (Aron’s work counterpart) family. We thought of how many beers we would need and walked over to the closest bar to pick up three cassiers (cartons that hold twelve 66 centiliter beers) and brought them back to the house. We started making phone calls to tell everyone to come to the house at 7:30 because we were celebrating.

Right before 7:30, Constantine finished cooking with her younger sister Emme, and plates and silverware were collected from their older sister Eleanor. Aron was out in town trying to find a cheap bottle of wine (we didn’t want to serve box wine) but he couldn’t find anything, so he got back right before our invitees started showing up. I was very impressed that people started coming at 7:45, when it would not have been weird to think the first people would show up at 8:30. It was 8PM and practically everyone was there except for Eve, the director of Aron’s bank. I gave a short speech thanking everyone for a great year 1 in country and said that I’m looking forward to the next year and to more shared experiences. Thibeau said the prayer and included the line “They had a year with no difficulties.” Aron’s response was “Oh we had plenty of difficulties.” Then we brought out the meal of boiled/fried chicken, boiled/fried fish, tomato sauce, baton de manioc, and a giant plate of rice. I noted that we had no bush meat and especially no monkey. As everyone served themselves, Aron and I passed out the first round of beers and like the good hosts we were, we got our plates of food last and sat on the least comfortable seats. The one complaint we heard was that we had no piment spice, and someone said that usually at parties he won’t eat if there’s no piment.

We all ate and drank, and Aron and I continued to bring out new beers for people when they finished their bottles. This event took place in the middle of a 5 day blackout, so we used candles and lamps to light the room. We took a memory card that I had just bought and filled with all the hot Cameroonian, Nigerian and West African tunes and put it in Aron’s new MP3 player, so we got some good music going on. My favorite moment was when Belange, the three-year-old who is in my current Facebook profile picture, started dancing and each of us gave her ferrotage, which is a bit of money you hand a dancer when you think he or she is doing a good job. The catch is that you have to dance for a bit and place the money on the dancer’s forehead. The big conversation of the night was what everyone would be dancing and lip syncing to for the big fete that was happening in one week to celebrate the end of the year for our saving’s association, when the bigger issue was that absolutely no planning had been done and we were putting over $650 into it.

People started trickling out at 11 after 2, 3, or 4 beers each (we had a total of 40 beers for 16 people, and not everyone drank), but our friend Patou, who is a giant 6 foot 6, 300 pound guy, and is very loud, got up to give a speech and said that he was treating us to a round of drinks at the cabaret/ night club. Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of going to the cabaret and I managed to live without going to one in town for six months between February to August. However, I had been twice in the past three weeks and this would be my second Saturday in a row at the cabaret. In this situation I couldn’t say no. A small group of us: Patou, Thibeau, Stephane, Jules, Ada, Aron and I; walked the short distance from Aron’s house to St. Pierre nightclub and got front and center seats to watch the gyrating and hip thrusting dancers.

The drinks were warm (thanks blackout!!) and the choices were limited, but we all got our drinks, watched the dancers and some random wasted French guy who apparently is a professor and was in town for a funeral, and had a good time. Conversation was hard because the music was loud, but I enjoyed the large posters of Paul and Chantal Biya up on the walls and the very Not Safe For Work artwork next to the portraits. We left the cabaret at 1 AM and I was all ready to walk home, but my friends wouldn’t allow it and we waited around so I could grab a moto that would take me safely home.

The next day I didn’t leave Aron to do the cleanup all by himself, so after doing some house cleaning I went to his place and washed a ton of dishes, glasses, pots and pans, and then we rested for a bit before bringing my couch home, getting a quick dinner and going to sleep nice and early.

On the morning on the 13^th, I had no idea what was in store for that night, but there is no way I could have had a better one-year anniversary. For our going-away party, I know to bring the piment.

Edition 2 is coming… keep that $650 fete in mind.