So, in my last entry I talked about starting a new job. I’m
now 4 months into said job and living in Cameroon. Cameroon is beautiful and
different enough from Kenya that it provides a lot of new challenges- the
language for one. Cameroon is both French speaking and English speaking. I took
a fair amount of French in college and this has been a great opportunity to
refresh and improve my French skills. I know that I’ve posted before about
funny language mishaps with Swahili. Now, I’ve had the pleasure of having some
interesting French language mishaps too.
My confusion with “gestion” as in “gestion de stock” (stock
management) and “gestation” (same as in English) always seems to break the ice
and provide a welcome laugh during otherwise uneventful malaria stock
management meetings. I don’t know why, but that one never fails to trip me up
when I’m speaking.
Also, there was that one time that I confused “preservatif”
with the English word “preservatives.” They are not the same. At all. One great example where you cannot just say an English word using a French accent and
get by.
Luckily that conversation was with a Cameroonian friend who’s
very understanding of other cultures and was not in the least bit judgmental
when I said in French that “I don’t like to eat McDonald’s when I’m in the US because of
all the condoms (preservatifs) they put it their food.”
That would've been quite a plot twist in the film Super Size Me. Anyways, I'm a bit behind the times now because McDonald's has apparently gone healthy and has a whole assortment of new items on their menu (condoms not included).
Well, as I mentioned in the title, I’d like to take a
moment to discuss gecko poop. When I lived in Kenya, I had a number of geckos
that I cohabitated with. They weren’t the worst roommates I’ve had; they didn’t
make a lot of noise or eat my food and were generally quite respectful of my
space. There was just one little the exception- their little droppings. They would
leave tiny dots of their previous meals around my floor and sometimes on my
wall. It wasn’t enough to make me go all warrior with a can of bug spray to kill
them, but it was an annoyance and just kinda gross. So for 2 years we mostly
just tolerated each other in a mutually symbiotic relationship. They paid their
rent in the form of eating other bugs that I dislike even more than them and I
allowed them to remain and raise tiny gecko families under my roof.
Recently, in my new house in Cameroon, I’ve started to
notice those same black dots. The Geckos have moved in. The strange thing is
that I have yet to see an actual Gecko, though. Perhaps they’re more timid in
Cameroon? Anyways, it was an odd mixture of comfort, nostalgia and annoyance at
their return.
In between cleaning up gecko droppings and working, I’ve
been dodging ever increasing fertility questions from my mother. Like “have I
thought about freezing my eggs?” and do I know “about the incidence of
deformities in babies the older a woman is when she gives birth”….and other
lovely pressure-filled gems that come up in the middle of unrelated
conversations. (Side note- When did my life turn into a Cathy comic?!)
I think she’s trying to remind me about my 30th
birthday that’s around the corner. Or perhaps it’s payback for my ever-so-casual
reference to her ability to join a 55+ “seniors” community soon. I’m not sure.
Either way, that woman is really keeping me on my toes in
every conversation. Love you Mom!
A la prochaine….
