Dancing Monkeys

I have officially gotten through my first week in Cameroon! I feel terrible that I haven’t been able to post pictures to show you all lovely Cameroon but I’m having problems figuring out my camera. Alors, you’ll have to settle for my linguistic depictions.

This past weekend was phenomenal. On Friday, we had an amazing African dance class that really helped to bring in the weekend (video to come hopefully). It was heart pumping, oh-so-much fun and helped to kick the fatigue that had plagued us all the first week. There were tons of elements from jazz and so much contraction (thank you Dr. Vaughn-Stoddard); my abs were definitely in pain the next day.

Saturday was full of monkeys! We visited a primate sanctuary just outside of Yaoundé with chimpanzees and gorillas that were almost close enough to touch (but luckily still separated by a fence). Gorillas and especially chimpanzees are so incredibly human-like, it’s hard to imagine someone poaching them and creating the need for such a sanctuary. The way their hands and eyes appeared was so eerily dexterous and intelligent. And how they reacted to us! Everything we did was perceived and reacted to, as we utilized body language and even vocal cues to converse. Amazing. Absolutely amazing. 

That night, we also went to La Cultural Centre Francaise to see a concert. And this is where I can hear Mark Lampen saying “Katie, you are going to the motherland of dance. Love it!”. We were watching this incredible traditional style band called Takem-deux (spelling?) when this random guy from the audience awkwardly danced onstage waving a 500 CFA bill. Everyone in my class was wondering what the hell this dopey looking guy was doing (where was security? Or at least the funny extra long cane that pulled people offstage in cartoons?). The guy, then, stuck the bill on the singer’s body, who was, bien sûr, bare-chested but for a few strands of beads. I really started to wonder what kind of show this was exactly. Suddenly, a woman appeared onstage, then another man until a whole group  was dancing to the percussive rhythm. Us white people even began to tap our feet in time.

Gradually, as each song progressed, more people would appear onstage, including a few from our group. The band had reached a positively contagious beat that made our row of “Les Blancs” get up and just dance (Gaga would’ve been proud). Of course, nearly everyone in the audience turned around to look at the silly nasarres. To make it even better, one of the dancers from onstage came down with his traditional spear/staff and led us onstage.  Lots of cameras also began filming us, a true minority there.

And so, we danced. We danced crazy, we danced fast and we had fun. Why aren’t all concerts like that?