Life

Home is where the Heart is, sort of.
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I’ve been meaning to write this post for a while, but I  just couldn’t sit down to type it. The idea of facing a blank Microsoft Word page was enough to discourage me time and time again. Plus I’ve had no inspiration to put pen to paper about anything these past weeks, but here goes.

It’s been more than four months since I came back from Cameroon. It was the first time I was going back home in seven years. I was blessed and lucky to travel quite a bit in 2017, and my trip to Cameroon in December was the last one on my list and the year.

It was also the trip I dreaded the most. I was looking forward to it, but only kind of. If I’m being completely honest, I’d say that I didn’t really want to go, and I would have been okay if I didn’t.

I have a weird / complicated relationship with my home country, and it bothers me that I can’t quite explain exactly why. But I’ll try to anyways. It’s like this: there’s a permanent feeling of discomfort that I’ve had for years now, every time I’m back home, and I think the reason I feel this way is because I was mugged in late 2007.

Before that incident, I never felt uncomfortable being at home. I moved around freely, went everywhere without fear or second thought. After the mugging though, I suddenly, and instantly, realized everything that was wrong with Cameroon. I admit this is a selfish thing to say, because, you know; “All problems are boring until they’re your own.” But I’m just being honest here.

That uncomfortable feeling is still present to this day, it’s almost crippling. When I’m home I want to go out as little as possible, I’m always on the defensive, stressed out, anticipating some heckling of some sort (which happens way more than you’d think in Cameroon, and way more than is usual for any “normal” country).

It’s especially complicated when you are a Cameroonian who doesn’t live in Cameroon. The locals sniff you out immediately, so it’s no use trying to blend in. You stick out like a fly in a glass of milk. From then on, if it’s not the overt, blatant stares, it’s people thinking they have the right to ask you for money, in ways that range from persistent pleading to threats and intimidation.

To be in Cameroon is to be in constant aggressive mode, because you will be eaten if you don’t defend yourself. It’s a great build of character, but it’s also too much of a hassle that I’d rather not deal with. I’m VERY lucky that I don’t have to, because some people don’t have a choice. Let’s not even talk about the general insecurity problem, which is a whole other issue.

I went to Cameroon to see my Grandmother, my Aunty (whose my second mother), and attend my cousins wedding. That was what I looking forward to: family. If it wasn’t for family (and maybe food, but I doubt that’s even strong enough to make me miss home like that), I wouldn’t go back anytime soon.

I was more excited about my twelve hour layover in Casablanca than I was to be back in Cameroon. I insisted on going through Morocco, because I wanted to discover a great country and a beautiful city, and it was 1000% worth it. I made sure I got the visa before I left (which I acquired mere hours before heading to the airport…)

While some people despise long layovers, I see it as a perfect opportunity to rack up more adventures, stories and memories. I live for that. On the plane from Montreal to Casablanca, I ran into my childhood friend, which is just one of the many small things I love about going places.

In Casablanca we both left the airport and explored the city, had lunch

These were to die for. Sooo good!

in this restaurant by the road and I had the best salted peanuts I’ve ever had. We had a ball, I bought a nice PUMA hoodie, then evening came and we were back at the airport to for the flight to Douala, Cameroon. Which I wasn’t looking forward to.

I started feeling uncomfortable in the plane, with stomach aches. My phone battery ran out, so I couldn’t listen to music to motivate myself. I took that as an ominous sign. I was in the middle of two people, there was a lot of stuff between us, it wasn’t a fun ride at all.

Then I arrived home at 3AM (Royal Air Maroc flies impossible hours). My Dad and my cousin’s now husband, then fiancé, came to pick me up, thank you guys.

The heckling started as soon as I walked out of the baggage area, with people trying to force me to buy a SIM card, trying to take my bag (which I didn’t have), or usher me to their taxi etc.

The days went by quickly after that. As happy as I was to see family, I was also nervous: I hadn’t seen a lot of aunts, uncles and cousins in years. Several cousins of mine were now mothers and fathers (some of them a couple times over) with grown kids I hadn’t met yet. So I didn’t know how I would react around them, or what I’d say, or what we’d even talk about. I’m also an incredibly socially awkward person, and I deal with that by being quiet and observant in situations like that. It’s a silence that can usually come off as rude and arrogant…

All in all it went well, it was only a bit weird at times, but I just forced myself to fight that feeling. My cousins’ wedding was insane, from the church to the wedding reception at night. From having spent a lot of time with her in Montreal, it was great to see her so happy. We have a great and special relationship.

We spent Christmas day with different family members from my Dad’s side, and it was heart warming to have almost everybody in our extended family together in one place.

After that it was time to drive out west to see my Aunty and Grandma. My aunty I hadn’t seen in six years, when I went back to Kenya for the first time since leaving for university in Canada.

Seeing her was the shot of adrenaline I needed. She came running to give me a hug, that was beautiful. I promised her I’d never take that long before seeing her again.

With my Grandma it was the same thing, we didn’t tell her we were coming to see her, she just opened her door to see us standing there. I’m smiling as I type this, because her reaction was priceless (and hilarious). My other aunty, who was also there couldn’t believe it was me, because I had grown so much from the last time we saw each other. There’s this warmth that is just unmatched, when it comes to African relatives being genuinely happy to see you.

They gave me a lot of advice, blessings and they prayed for me (like only African families can, best believe that), it was quite the moment. Being in Grandma’s house was a little emotional, especially looking at my Mum’s old family pictures, and my Grandfather when he was a young handsome soldier full of life.

In front of my maternal Grandmother’s house. Photo Credit: Mum

My parents also took me to see the where a few of my Grandparents and relatives were buried, because I was in Canada when it happened…that was another contemplative occasion for me. I saw some more extended family on my mother’s side, who gave me even more love and well wishes.

This trip back home made me remember a few things I had forgotten. While we were driving around the country, be it in the city on in the rural area, I was struck by the poverty, and misery I sometimes saw in people’s eyes. The country has literally been stuck in the same place (regressing even) for years.  It was something I didn’t really see when I was younger, but at 25, I had a better understanding of life.

I was reminded of how unfair life could be, when I compared how drastically a child’s life could be affected depending on where they were born. Still though, that’s not to say that everybody in Cameroon is miserable, it all depends on priorities and perspective. There are people who are perfectly happy with life as they have it, and that’s really the most important.

Seeing all these things, and receiving all that love from family also made me feel guilty. Because I don’t necessarily think I deserve all the love and luck I’ve had..

I will say this though: I felt a little inauthentic and incapable of having genuine empathy in some moments of my trip, and I couldn’t shake off that feeling. Living in Canada, and having constant access to certain comforts of life, comforts not available or afforded to everyone, will do that you.

Constantly chasing currency and living the fast life here, made me forget where I came from, it made me forget my values and morals a little bit. Always worrying about the wrong things, things of little importance compared to what really matters. And I can’t lie, it’s a mentality that is hard to change when you’ve been living with it for years. So I won’t say that I’ve changed, not at all, it’s still in me and I feel like I need that state of mind to survive here, you know? I just have to find a balance in that power struggle, to make sure I don’t lose myself.

That’s why I felt inauthentic and “fake.” Because my adopted way of life / school of thought made it difficult to reconnect with a part of my past that made me who I am. Then there’s also the fact that I’m a struggling actor with no career prospects at 25 years old, which is what made me feel unworthy of all the love I received. But that’s a touchy, sensitive subject for another day.

It was an impactful trip for me. It will be many years before home and I can come to some sort of an understanding. But unlike before, it’s a must that I go back someday to reconnect with my roots and family, because I know where I come from, I have a cultural legacy and heritage. That much was made clear to me on this trip.

It’s such a trip to go from a sophisticated, modern city, to a dirt poor rural area most people can’t even picture in their minds, all in a matter of hours. That’s habitual for me though.

 

 

1 Comment

  1. Great lecture, Theo! I am moved. It is clear you needed that trip to reconnect with your roots and family, and value all the blessings you have. Yes, it is good to get out of your comfort zone from time to time to really appreciate how lucky you are, all the blessings you have. Home is home and contrary to what some people think, Africans are happy home despite the challenges they face everyday. There is poverty -not everywhere fortunately- but Africans have something many other people don’t have: they are welcoming, they care, they truly care, and they show it. They are loving people and going back to them is knowing they will welcome you with open arms and this kind of warmth you hardly find anywhere else. This is one of the reasons why I am very proud of my origins and people, and always seize any opportunity to go home while waiting for the day I will go back home for good. Very soon believe me because home is home!

    Thanks again for sharing this other great piece of lecture, Theo!

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