As every good American knows, Halloween is party season. Among ex-pats, it seems to be even more the case. In response to this ancestral mandate, the volunteers in the East invited PC Cameroon to Bertoua to Bertoween.
The party flyer promised clubbing, going to a caberet, swimming in a real pool, and of course, a costume party.
Everyone was to stay in the case (the house where East volunteers stay to do banking). My postmate and I arrived on Wednesday to secure our beds. There are 3 double beds and 2 bunkbeds and 25 people RSVPed. It was going to be a shitshow, so I planned to move to my friend Greg's house with my brand spanking new mattress.
Thursday night - Ladies' Night at Grand Palace
Grand Palace is definitely the nicest club I've ever been to ever. It has air conditioning. And it works! The dance floor had some light-up sections and a fog machine. They had a projector, where they played music videos. There were several VIP sections with really comfortable couches and bottle service with complimentary Cokes, ice and peanuts. (I feel like such a club noob going on and on about peanuts, but my club experience has been limited to Neon Liger in Gainesville - less than 1000 sq. ft. of people gyrating and dripping sweat - and the Copacabana in Metz, which was the same thing, but in a basement with latin music instead of dub step)
I walked in wearing my most daring club dress - blue spandex that hit about mid-thigh. I felt like a wildwoman, until I saw what everyone else was wearing. All the other ladies wore stillettos and dresses that cups the curves of their derrieres and ended right there. I am still bamboozled by the fact that they never flashed anyone. How do they do it?!
The best part of the evening - Every ladies' night there's a beauty contest. Two volunteers were judges and one of the COSing volunteers was a constestant. She got 3rd place. The winner for the night and for the month was definitely the tallest woman I have ever seen in my life; I didn't quite come up to her shoulder and I'm not actually short (5'5"/5'6").
Friday Night - the Caberet at Oxygen
Oxygen has some outdoor seating that's great for people and moto watching and the drinks are about average priced. To go inside is to step into a different world, a world of ceiling fans, overpriced drinks and gogo dancers.
The inside is dim and the bathroom is sketchy. To quote a good friend of mine, "I saw a vagina!" This was the response to the question of whether or not there's a ladies' room.
You order your drinks from an angry-faced server, sit on your couches and either watch the dancers or stare off into space talking to no one. The dancers are actually really really good. The East is known for its awesome crazy dancing, so that actually does provide a good amount of entertainment. The "staring off into space talking to no one" is actually the go-to move for most people here, when they go out. The music is generally so loud that to attempt to talk is to actually shout into your neighbor's ear. The sound level of a bar is never a strong deterrent for a loquacious American; this next morning everyone just complains about the noise level in a raspy voice. It seems like when people go out in groups here, no one talks to anyone at all, even if the music isn't that loud; I noticed it for the first time at my Teachers' Day party and the second time, when I was waiting for my car to Dimako with the cats (once everyone realized I was not going to give them the cats).
Are you familiar with the term "ice-ing"? You hide a Smirnoff Ice and the unfortunate who finds it has to kneel down and chug the "Ice." People can get pretty creative with their hiding spots, though a favorite is in the moto helmet, so when you're ready to leave you find it. I've heard of propping it on someone's pillow like a hotel chocolate...and the list goes on.
It's definitely in practice here among volunteers. A recent rule change stipulates that you are no longer allowed to just send one via a server to your victim. It had not yet come into effect, when we moved outside, so Danny had no choice, but to chug. A few minutes later, confusion and mayhem ensued, when a second Ice was delivered to Danny. A very drunk stranger had caught on to the game and wanted to see Danny do it again. I think that's Goal 2 - promoting better understanding of American culture?
Saturday Night - Bertoween
One of my absolute favorite things about Cameroon is pagne. You can get clothing made custom order fairly quickly and cheaply. I spent a lot of time waffling about what I wanted to be for Halloween and as a consequence had no time to have anything made. I even bought some red fabric thinking that I would want to make a cape and be Little Red Riding Hood. Luckily for me and my waffling, a COSing volunteer was putting a ton of clothes in the "Up For Grabs" (free things that you don't want anymore - clothes, bags, shoes, teaching materials, etc). She and I are the same size exactly and she put in a yellow bazin party dress. It fit like a dream and as every Millenial knows, if you have brown hair and a yellow dress, you are Belle from Beauty and the Beast.
We had jungle juice (mystery alcohol in watermelon/orange/pineapple/lime/jello juice...at least no one had to worry about scurvy), sachets (the devil's own alcohol) and a few cassiers of beer. We played beer pong and flip cup, ring of fire and contact. There was dancing; there was some kind of cricket or baseball or kickball thing going on (still confused). We even had a Canadian.
It was a lot of fun and some of the costumes were really good. One girl dressed up as another volunteer and wore a skin-colored shirt covered in tattoos, scruff and hipster glasses. Another person cut his hair to have a mullet and believe it or not, he can actually pull it off. (This may be "Peace Corps goggles" talking...)
Bertoween Weekend in Review
It was wonderful to see two of my fellow stagiaires who are posted in the Adamawa and it was a lot of fun to show them around Bertoua and go through the market.
It should say a lot that I had a good time all weekend despite having e.coli the whole time.
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