You shall be called Mbeuh « A partir de maintenant, on t’appellera Mbeuh, Mbeuh Lasserre, notable de la famille Feussah ». C’est certainement le plus gros imprévu, la plus grande surprise to me by this weekend 3 days Bamilékée earth, genuine immersion in the culture of animist hill areas of the west.
early November, while Louis-Bernard invited me to eat with him, came to me with an opportunity to go a bit more in the Cameroonian culture, customs and traditions. The following weekend, he had to go west for a funeral held by his aunt. Such opportunities do not come twice, so I asked him to accompany him.
Friday 6 am, so we were en route to the bus station Bonaberi, through neighborhoods in full swing. Bapou reached earlier this afternoon, we were put to work to prepare for the big party tomorrow. That's how we've helped to burn the goat and pig (which fortunately had been killed before my arrival!): It was to pass through the fire to burn the hair clean and well skin before they are skinned and then cooked by moms. We then took the hoe and the machete to go clean the place was to keep the meal. "The white hoe" has been noted, young women stopping to observe this strange madman, when they were not horrified to see injuries (or rather scratch!) and beginnings of blisters which disfigured now my poor little delicate hands! No attention, however, for Louis-Bernard and his cousin who worked just as much!
But these are not the only people who noticed me wielding the hoe. That's what the evening would show me. By late afternoon, I attended a family reunion of the family Feussah (maternal side of Louis-Bernard). A number of dignitaries were present: several notable (Councillors head of household) and the head of the family itself. Nice surprise to see this young man of thirty, surrounded by his advisers of his father's generation! This is actually the son of former head of the family and was designated as successor by his father.
I was asleep, tired and a little lost in this trade in local dialect, when a few French words hooked me your ear: you talking to me! My involvement in the preparation of the feast had actually been observed and the head of the family had finally chosen as significant. On this occasion I received the name of Mbeuh, "one who submits' who is there to help the family (and even to help itself: that's how I get also this mission). Louis-Bernard himself also been elevated to advise and took the name of Sop, "one who attends." After a brief speech, where moved, I thanked the family gathered for his wonderful hospitality throughout the day was by now finding my true integration, I received the homage of the different people present, head of household, notables and ordinary members. As I entrust the Louis Bernard, it really was not planned!
The next day was the day of the festival.
Here are some paragraphs that I vous parle de fête en faisant référence à des funérailles : il est temps de m’expliquer un peu ! A la mort d’une personne se tient le deuil (les obsèques). C’est à cette occasion que la personne est enterrée au village, soit en extérieur, soit, si c’est une personne importante, dans une pièce de sa maison. Après l’enterrement, l’esprit de la personne reste encore lié au corps et ni la chambre ni la pièce où la personne est enterrée ne peuvent être réaménagées avant les funérailles. A cette occasion, la famille se réunit en mémoire de la personne et va danser autour des tam-tams. La famille united means to be gone we can move forward. The spirit is then released from the body and escapes into the wild, while remaining accessible to people still alive who wish to contact him. The heart of the funeral is this dance around the drums. But as I said Louis Bernard, over the years this kind of event is an opportunity to become a show of strength for the different groups Bamileke (ethnic group in the western region): it is to gather the most guests possible to demonstrate the power of his family. They are so huge feasts where food and drink flowing stream and that families often go into debt over several years ...
The funeral which we participate were those organized by the concession of the uncle of Louis- Bernard (the concession is the set of buildings with a man, his wives and children. By extension, this term refers to a large family). The dead that concerned us was the uncle himself and 3 of his son, but overall, there was a brief thirty people! Louis Bernard and I have unfortunately missed the dance around tom-toms ... I could still get my shot to show my solidarity with her aunt and I did not miss anything costumes and dances that followed. Dozens of people wearing the kilt for the event (a kilt is a printed fabric. For many events, guests are encouraged to cut their clothes in this fabric), others with the traditional kilt Bamileke marked symbols white on blue, others more or less scary masks representing certainly a particular genius, others dancing in a circle, dozens of bells hanging from the feet, etc.. It was a great party.
After the meal, Louis-Bernard led me to his village, Batchingou, where we found her mother. I had already met the day before and I was again marked by his reception. We could not share much, she only knew a few words of French, and I do not speak a word of his dialect. Yet something has happened and I am attached to this little lady smiling and affectionate.
We spent the night and next morning Batchingou Louis Bernard led me to the old dealership from his father, at 5-6 km du village. C’est ici que celui-ci vivait, jusqu’à ce que les autorités coloniales n’obligent les personnes à rentrer au village le soir lorsque les premiers mouvements indépendantistes ont commencé à faire du bruit. Arrivés à la concession, nous nous sommes dirigés vers la maison où sont enterrés les crânes de tous les ancêtres de Louis-Bernard. Après les funérailles, l’esprit quitte le corps de la personne et la dépouille perd son caractère sacré. Le crâne, comme symbole de la personne, est alors déterré et ré-enterré dans le même édifice que tous les ancêtres de la famille et où les vivants pourront communiquer avec them more intimate. The ancestral home is somehow the equivalent of our churches: we can meet God anywhere, but especially in those buildings. Louis-Bernard has greeted his ancestors, and then introduced me to them. We then went to the tomb of his father and he did the same. On the way back, he explained that his ancestors are intermediaries between God and himself. Equivalents in the Christian religion could be saints or our own dead, which are closer to God, can intercede on our behalf.
return to Douala on the other hand has done more commonplace. 1 pm to watch the military whistle buses for its 500 notes while they were repairing a first down on our van, a fatal breakdown in the bush and end the journey by taxi: I'm getting used to having transportation problems every time (yes, EVERY time!) I go to the west! I'm beginning to wonder if I was not marabou ... My parents and brother arrive in 2 weeks and I intend to bring them discover the west I hope they will come for them to ward off bad luck!
