to trust or not to trust. that is the question.

one thing that I miss most about the US is being able to go wherever I want without having to be suspicious or untrusting of people. as soon as i arrived people, even Cameroonians, warned me against walking around or taking the taxis, for the danger of robbing or rape. i am not a naturally suspicious person (probably to a fault) and i don’t really like that. but anyway, that’s where i am. ive started to walk to work lately. the neighborhood where i live is one of the nicest. it has many large houses behind barbed wire. the richer people who live there drive on the streets, and the poorer people who work there walk on the streets. when i pass other pedestrians, they usually glare at me until i give them a “bon jour” or “bon soir,” then they might return it. but yeah, it is hard to be so differentiated. this past saturday i went for a walk with the dog. i was a little nervous, but i needed to get out of the house. i walked up out of the neighborhood and onto a street and down by a sort of monument and up a steep hill to a large building, which was a sort of congressional meeting place. i had made a large loop from the house, and i knew how to get back the way i came, but i wanted to see if there was a shortcut. from the hill i spotted the house and planned a way to get back. as i walked down the hill, i met some boys who were asking about the dog. they were about 12 and 14. we were friendly but then i went the other way trying to find the route. however, the route was not really possible. i would have to go down through a valley full of shanties, which would probably not have been the safest, since i was alone. i turned back and asked the boys if i could get to my neighborhood from here without going around. no i couldn’t. i was about to leave when the older boy said he could take me through the valley. i considered for a second. he was strong, and he would be taking me through a place that he was familiar with and i was not. he didn’t look overly friendly or threatening, though, so i took the chance. he barely looked at me as i followed him down through various shacks and tin-roofed houses. again, people stared. i felt safe having the dog, since most Cameroonians are intimidated by them (most dogs are wild, i guess). it was crazy though, walking down there. and magical in a way. i couldn’t have come down alone. i was alert and guarded the whole way, but nothing happened. he led me right past my house. i thanked him (his name was leonard) and said goodbye, incredulous at what i had just done. i know i do some foolish things, but it was quite an experience.

i think that maybe people are untrustworthy because they are not trusted. i suppose it’s a vicious cycle, but i wish it was not like that. i wonder what would have to change. the economy? the infrastructure? i have heard that the anglophone (english-speaking) side of the country (the west) is safer. maybe they should just stop speaking french.