Never have I been so thankful for Cameroon's painfully slow internet.

Given that the tension has blown over for the most part, that the Embassy oh-so-kindly permits us to leave our houses, and that moving us would have been an academic nightmare, my program decided to let us stay here in Cameroon...for now, at least.

There's still a chance that the revolution will start right here in Yaoundé, in which case, I'm sure we helpless little white girls would be whisked to Embassy property in armored vehicles before we even had time to pack our bags, but that's unlikely. See, Cameroonians prefer stability in the short term to good governance in the long term, which is why the president gets away with whatever he wants. (Not to worry, though: they would have to drag me--kicking balls and screaming murder--if it were the Revolution.)

And of course, as I type this, the woman in the next stall is Googling information on how to get a green card in the United States. Oh, the irony. If only I could explain in French--without being a total asshole--that the U.S. isn't all it's cracked up to be. I'd give her my American citizenship if I could--I don't want to go home, and God knows I want an excuse not to vote in November. (Fuck Hilary, fuck Obama. I'm sick of it, and I'm watching the international news. I feel terribly sorry for all of you who are in the States right now.)

Throughout the four days of torturous limbo, I attempted to cheer myself up by making a list of the things of which I would thrilled, frankly, to have three fewer months. They include:

--Sweating
--Ice cold showers, which are painful no matter how hot it is outside
--An extremely uncomfortable mattress and even worse pillow
--Constant noise
--Humans smelling like humans and not deodorants like "Mystic Sunset"
--Shards of bone in every beef dish; bones and skin in every fish stew
--Jerky taxi drivers
--Jerky moto drivers who think it's funny to pretend to swerve into me
--Being ripped off because I'm white
--Men staring at me, shouting at me, and--all too often--touching me
--The smell of plastic burning
--Little variety of food, and total deprivation of a few of my staples, such as Cheerios, turkey sandwiches with cheddar, Diet Dr. Pepper, and PopTarts
--Emily pronounced the French way ("Amy-LEE")
--Dirt
--Living in a giant trash dump
--The only dark beer here is too hoppy for my taste, and the only hard liquor is rank-ass whiskey
--Bad service in restaurants (I could write a whole post on this one, and may just do so...)
--Rude shop owners
--European keyboards
--A whole slew of Cameroonian behaviors that are unacceptable by American standards, including but not limited to:
--calling before 9:00 a.m.
--calling 8-10 times in a row if the person doesn't pick up the first time
--finding someone at home if they still don't pick up
--stalking in general
--using chain saws before 8:00 a.m.
--asking for presents
--calling people by their race ("White girl! White girl!" Can you imagine the NAACP versus ACLU battle that would ensue if you shouted out "Black person! Black person!" in America? Throwdown!)

But of course, this list was nothing compared to the list of reasons I would have been devastated to leave. The tomatoes alone are worth dealing with the bad foods, and constant bad smells make the occassional good one sheer ecstasy. I am supposed to work in an orphanage and haven't even been there yet, and I may also be working with a woman who runs an AIDS organization. Plus, my parents are supposed to visit at the end of my program, and I can't wait to show them around--they won't believe how tough I've gotten!

So anyway, I'm thrilled that we don't have to leave.