“La Blanche!”

“La blanche, la blanche, la blanche!!” Everywhere we go it’s “La blanche!” Yea, I get it. I’m white. Do you get it? “La blanche!” I guess not. Harmony and I deal with it by giving the locals a taste of their own medicine; however, “le noir” doesn’t seem to work as well. I just recently had my hair braided with extensions (aka mèche) which makes me stand out a little more and the stares and comments have increased in frequency. Yaoundé is a big city with a lot of white people walking around. In the less urban areas of Cameroon I don’t really consider the comments annoying, but in Yaounde it drives me nuts. I know why it occurs, but I’ll never get over it. The other day Harm and I were walking to the internet café when we passed a small group of African men. One of them remarked to the others en francais, “The white people look dead. Now why is that?” What the hell is that supposed to mean? You’d look dead too if you were as pasty as I am, but I can’t help that now, can I? Oh, well, “la blanche” I am and “la blanche” I’ll stay.