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was placing my sunglasses in my handlebar bag, my wallet came into view with contained
a lot of CFA notes. One youth eyed it and bluntly asked me for 1000 CFA because he was
hungry. I don't know why but I lost it with him and ragged him out in French:
“Look at yourself! You are in school wearing nice clothes and
shoes. I met countless young people with rags as clothing who
have never gone to school. I've met refugees from Liberia and
Sierra Leone who have witnessed incredible atrocities to their
family members. You are hungry? Imagine these children. Stop
speaking like an idiot.”
Hewasshockedbymyresponseandshrankbehindhisfriends.Thatsetthetonefor
the group. There were no more questions and they quickly left. As I watched them walk
away, I had mixed feelings. On one hand, I felt angry at myself for creating a situation
whereIcouldhavebeenmugged(reallyagrab-and-dash).Ontheotherhand,Ifeltbadthat
I lost my temper and belittled the teen in front of the group. On the third hand, however, I
did feel proud of myself that I yelled at him French. Like I said, mixed feelings.
Anyway, the curé arrived, Father Rino Porcellato, and he invited me to stay. Unfor-
tunately he was going for dinner at the sisters and it was too short of a notice for them to
prepare a place for me. He told me that I was welcome to any food in the fridge. I thanked
him but didn't bother with his food. I ate my own stuff instead and listened to the radio.
As I waited for their return, I wrote in my journal. They arrived several hours later and we
chatted until they retired to their rooms. This was to be my last night in Cameroon for the
next day I was to head to Gabon.
In the morning, I took a photo of Father Rino and handed over a few pins. I said
goodbye after breakfast and 15 kilometres or so down the road, I met the other priest who
was celebrating mass in an unfinished church with the jungle in the back.
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