Since my last intellectual outburst, life has been moving pretty fast in the Western province. Classes this week have focused on the Bamileke, and as excursions we went to some waterfalls, where I purified myself under the crashing blows of a fifty-footer; we also visited a Chefferie: a traditional tribal chiefs palace and shared a feast, some music and some mint milk (just what it sounds like, but with alcohol). My french teacher, Bamileke instructor and certafiable badass, Monsieur Noupa, who I call Noupa-Loop (he didnt approve of Snoop), has also been teaching us Pidgin English, with anecdotes about Bill Clinton and Monica Lewinsky being his primary instructing tools. We have also been going to a restaurant/bar after class for a beer every once in a while at a place we know as the "Viper Bar," because our first visit there included the owner pulling out a five foot dead viper, throwing it on the ground and asking us if we were hungry for some viper steak. My family here in Dscahng has been awesome, my father and mother have been stuffing me full of delicious things like Hansel and Gretel and I will be sad to leave. However, the next couple of days mean a trip to english-speaking bamenda and then back to Yaounde.
The Sox have crept in, and I stay awake thinking about them,
Steven
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