Читать книгу "Yeah, I am the rich black man from New York in Africa: Johnny Fuck Me Walker" - Dantse Dantse - Страница 7

“Hey Rita, I want to tell you something. Five days ago I read something really interesting on the internet.”

Rita acted like she hadn’t heard anything. She was sick of having to listen to Johnny Walker’s announcements that had always turned out to be just hot air in the past. Additionally she had another reason to be angry with him today.

“Did you hear me, Reh? Last time you asked me what I was doing in that hotel I said I was working on a plan. Remember? Now I’m telling you the first part of why I was in that hotel and rarely sleep at home. Are you listening?” asked Johnny.

“Listen, to you? Internet? Is your internet paying the water bills as well, Evarist? You can afford to sleep in a hotel, but you don’t pay the bills for this house”, answered Rita.

Johnny knew it was serious when Rita called him Evarist. Johnny Walker wasn’t his real name. His real name was Mendo Choup Ke Joug Evarist Dieu Ne Dort. Choup ke joug means ‘one who doesn’t listen’ or ‘one who doesn’t care about advice’ in the language of the Banganté, a people of the Bamileké in Western Cameroon.

Because of his distinct fondness for Whiskey his friends had thought up the nickname Johnny Walker for him, J.W. for short. Usually he was just called Johnny.

Yes, Johnny Walker was a man who basically symbolized a hundred percent life: Living full, leaving easy, as if the world was going to end today. Monsieur la vie (Mister Life), as he was called in all the hip bars and discos in town, loved life, especially the good, fancy life. He didn’t look too bad, but wasn’t handsome either. One could always wonder why he was so popular with the women, even though his wallet was almost always empty.

J.W. was 32 years of age, but nobody knew when precisely he had been born. He always played with this fact. To answer this question he just said: “I was born in 1981, during the big corn harvest.” Corn harvest in Cameroon is always just before June, before the great winter. Winter in Cameroon means cold and rain. Especially in Western Cameroon it gets very cold during the evenings and early mornings.

Johnny was born in the nice mountainous country of Western Cameroon, in the Bamileké land, in Banganté, in the NDE Department. The NDE is the ‘Departement des gens nobles, dignes et elegants’ (Land of the noble, full of dignity and elegance) and did everything to live up to this slogan.

He actually came from a well-off family. His father was a doctor and his mother a teacher. When he was ten, his parents were ordered to work in Bafoussam. Bafoussam is the capital of the Bamileké region. The land of the red earth. In Cameroon it is common to send public servants from city to city to make sure their services go out to the whole country. By doing this the state is hoping to strengthen unity and a sense of fellowship.

He had 6 siblings, 2 brothers and 4 sisters and he was the last-born of the family. Accordingly he had been very spoilt, always the Chou-Chou (favorite). He had never learnt to achieve something through his own commitment. Everything had been laid to his feet and he quite enjoyed this situation.

His siblings, all of whom except one sister had left for Europe or America to study, often sent him wonderful clothes, toys and similar treats. Therefore all of the kids in town – boys and girls – wanted to be friends with him. When he was between 15 and 19 he was called ‘chaud gars’ (hot guy).

A school party without the ‘chaud gars’ wouldn’t have been a disaster. He was the center of events in town.

Every Wednesday afternoon and Saturday and Sundays the youths spent their time on the sport grounds “La Pelouse” behind the town hall in Bafoussam. On these days the students gathered from all of the different schools to act as if they were playing sports. Actually it was all about the show and chatting up girls. Who had the newest shoes, the newest walkman, who was wearing what?

Hot Guy had always been the best dressed, he always had something new with him and often treats from Europe as well.

It was remarkable that Hot Guy wasn’t arrogant or stuck-up. He was always in a good mood and had a wide smile on his face. He never snubbed his friends and was very helpful. He was good at giving, too, without being petty about it.´

Even then you could see that he was very intelligent. When he’d set his mind on something he would follow through with it, and nothing could stop him.

Of self-confidence and self-assurance he had more than enough. Even as a student he eradiated an irresistible personality, even though he wasn’t the most handsome of the guys.

He finished school successfully. After his graduation with excellent marks he went to the economical city of Douala to study there.

One year after his dad died in a mysterious accident. Everyone was talking of magic, because his dad had allegedly been a member of a satanic sect. When he wasn’t willing to give up a sacrifice for his successful career, they had killed him off, they said.

The accident was indeed strange. He was on his way from Bafoussam to Douala, on the most beautiful country road in Cameroon, winding through the mountains past a wonderful landscape. Later they found the car in the middle of the street, engine still running and you could see the man sitting behind the steering wheel as if he was just having a break. He was dead. The only thing that could plausibly have caused the accident was a dead panther, a very rare animal in the region, lying under the front wheels.

A panther? In broad daylight? It was enough to send the fantasy of the people spinning: “C’est un sectaire (he’s a member of a sect).” “Now we know how he had so much money”, one group said. “Yeah, and all of his children are in Europe”, said another. “Oh yes, and his brother who died five years ago...” That made it official: The man was a ‘sectaire’.

When the bailiffs came to confiscate his belonging, apparently because of high debts, it wasn’t rumors anymore: It had become a scientific fact: This man belonged to a magical group that prayed to the devil. You get all the things you want: Glory, money, success – but there comes a day you have to pay it all back, and after death all your wealth has just disappeared.

People like this are physically dead, but they keep on living in another world and have to earn everything they had gotten in life. That’s the punishment for working with the devil, at least that’s what the Cameroonians say.

In the African culture and faith the dead are not terminally dead anyway. The live on, which is why the cult around the dead is very important there. The dead remain in another dimension, but they can see everything we do and we can even get in contact with them, if we possess the gift for it. This is why you often hear stories of people who went to see an African priest to talk to their dead relatives. This way you can learn about the cause of death as well. In Africa they say people don’t die for nothing, no matter how old they were.

Meanwhile, Hot Guy had become Johnny Walker in Douala. After his father’s death his sound rich world had fell apart. He couldn’t afford the luxury and the high life anymore. His siblings in Europe and America all had families of their own now and couldn’t and wouldn’t support Johnny.

Time went by and Johnny was 32 years old already. Old enough to go through life alone. He had finished studying philosophy with 27, but what is one supposed to do with that in Cameroon? Working as a teacher and earning 200 € a month? No, that was not enough for a man this inventive. He lived on small mediation businesses and wives of rich men who were looking for a bit of fun in young men like him.

It was astonishing how Johnny Walker had adapted to this new reality. He never complained. He hadn’t lost any of his dignity and elegance, nothing at all. He developed strategies to live. Other people would call it ‘survive’, but Johnny Walker wasn’t someone who let other people see that he wasn’t doing all too well. His pride was too prominent for that.

He went to thrift shops to buy used branded clothes that had swept over the African markets from Europe. He then let a modern washing salon clean them which made them look just like new and Johnny could be well dressed, just as he had always been.

Women loved him. He was rumored to be like a stallion in bed, but loving, soft and attentive. They said he wasn’t even allowed in a lot of the transient hotels in town anymore, because the lust screams of the women he was with weren’t only bothering the other hotel guests, but the neighbors as well. The police had to intervene several times to quiet them down. So Johnny Walker became a womanizer in Douala without even planning to.

He stayed in a cozy three room apartment in a normal suburb in the town of Bonaberi with Rita and their two kids.

He wasn’t satisfied with his new situation, but he had arranged himself with it. He did not complain. When he had money, the night was hot up to the last cent. The day, broke, he spent his day at home, reading or hanging out with Wadjo, a Muslim from northern Cameroon who ran a small internet café.

This way, J.W. always went through life in a good mood, with or without money.

All his tries to get a visa to go to Europe or America failed. But even that couldn’t stop his optimism and his visions. He knew he’d get his chance one day.

Johnny always had thousands of ideas how he could get to money, but none of these he followed through to the end. When Rita had to realize once again that the new hope hadn’t been more than hot air he said to his wife: “Rita, just wait for it, one day I’m going to change your life. Be patient. No matter how long the night is, day will come. The sun shines for all people and it’ll shine for us as well.”

He repeated his question from before: “I told you I found something interesting on the internet and you don’t even care.”

Rita looked into his direction, rolled her eyes and examined him from head to toe, in a way only African women can. Then she went on cutting the vegetables for dinner.

Johnny was used to taking these condescending looks. He knew himself that he had promised her a lot and never lived up to it. But he never had doubted he would become successful some day in the future.

So he wasn’t surprised by Rita’s reaction. He had expected it. He tried again: “Reh, I’m telling you, information and knowledge are power, they are worth more than cash. If you had the right information and knowledge, you could build New York in a day!” He had a very serious look on his face.

Rita acted as if she had to laugh, but you could see the pity she had for Johnny.

“Heheee, before you build New York in a day, can you please pay the water bills first? The water has been turned off today, because of 15 missing Euros, and you, you spent hours on your shitty internet or make out with a woman who’s young enough to be your daughter! And then you have the nerves and come here to tell me you can build New York in a day. You weren’t able to make 15 Euros in two weeks, but you can build New York in a day. Please, that’s ‘du n´importe quoi’(nonsense)”, she said.

J.W. wasn’t prepared for that. He looked stunned. Rita hadn’t gone this far before. How had Rita found out he’d made out with a girl?

Johnny Walker was angry and mad. He tried to control himself to not lose his dignity and attacked:

“He, you ‘femme’, who do you think you are? What are you doing here? Go and look for a man who can care for you. Are your hands tied or cut off so you can’t pay for yourself? You’ve got two fine legs, but the way I see it, you’d rather sit at home and wait for a rich prince to come. No, that’s not how we do it. I’m successful, even without money. Do you see how many women are after me? And a chick like you thinks it can compete with me? Yes, why don’t you pay the bills yourself? If I’m that unimportant, why do you even wait for me? I told you times are tough. You have to work as well. But no, the ‘grande dame’ only has ‘du n´importe quoi’ to say. Am I ‘du n´importe quoi’?“

Rita stayed calm and replied:

“Ha, ‘monsieur’ is mad. Anything else to get off your chest? Because I have other things to do.”

That made Johnny even angrier. He had always wondered how women managed to keep calm in the middle of a discussion. They often didn’t say much, but only juggled a few words through the space between them and let the man on the opposite explode. He had always said women were much stronger than men. They let men think they are stronger on purpose, but in reality they are physically and mentally more persistent. Just like now. Just the fact that Rita didn’t want to keep talking annoyed him very much. He always had to have the last word and Rita had cut off the discussion. He didn’t want to leave it at that. “What do you want, what do you want? Who told you about that woman? Are you spying on me?” he asked Rita and followed her.

“Just leave me alone. For all I care you can shag the neighbors and the whole city of Douala, but go and pay the bills, otherwise we will swap and you can do what I do all day. I will go earn the money. I’d like to do that, I can work very well.”

“Hahaha, the emancipation is coming, the emancipation is here. They want to talk like white women do. Haha, African women. It doesn’t suit you. White women talk like that because they pay the water bills while the man pays the power bills. Emancipation means equality. You heard that word before? I can work well, I can work well. Now that’s some ‘du n´importe quoi’”, Johnny said ironically and thought he had made his point this time.

“You talk about equality, you Evarist Choup ke joug? I’m talking of equal rights and duties. So you’ll make your fried bananas yourself tonight. If I clean the kitchen you’ll clean the toilet.”

Johnny was seriously beaten down now. He realized he just didn’t stand a chance of winning. His dad had always told him: “You can’t beat a woman with words. They are more eloquent than us men. Try, as much as you can, not to get into a discussion. Just talk to them, accept that you’re guilty: That’s the only way to win at this.” Johnny remembered this lecture and changed his strategy:

“He, Reh, Rita, I know you’re mad. Yes, I’m sorry that the bill wasn’t paid. I’ll do it today. I know you do a lot of work at home. It is priceless, I know. When you just leave me for two hours with the kids to do the shopping I see how hard that work is. Yes, that’s why I met this woman. I did it for us.”

Rita stopped walking back and forth and sat down. That was a sign for Johnny that she had calmed down.

“Johnny, don’t you see how tough our situation is? My studies, the kids and the missing money, that’s not easy. It’ll be two years until I can earn anything. I don’t ask much of you, just what’s absolutely necessary”, Rita said calmly.

“That’s what I do. Don’t stop believing in me. Believe in me. With this woman I will soon have enough money and I will profit of the world cup in Brazil to get out of here. Once I’m in Europe, we’ll be rich. There’s a time for everything. You have to learn to suffer and wait it out, if you want to experience good luck.”

Rita didn’t look too convinced. “You already told me about your plan. Even when the mediator is an honest man and able to get you a visa to Europe, how are you planning to get the money for that? He asks 15.000 Euros. In my opinion, that’s too much.”

“It is a lot of money, but you have to take into account that I’m not an easy case. A Schengen Visa is expensive. The people who issue it have raised the fee. The mediator told me he keeps only 1.000 Euros for himself. The men in the embassy, in the ministries and so on take the other 14.000 Euros. Yes Reh, it’s a lot, but then I’m in Europe, in France, in Germany or England. It won’t take 3 months and I’ll have all the money back.”

This explanation convinced Rita. You could often see people who had gone to Europe and came back a year later owning mansions in Cameroon. So she believed her husband, when he said he was going to earn the money back very fast.

“And what about that woman? How is an 18-year old girl going to help you?” asked Rita.

“The plan is unbeatable, Rita. That’s the reason why I live in a hotel. Hold on, one day you’ll know the whole story. You’re not supposed to tell women the whole story right away; otherwise they can stop you from reaching your goals. Trust me. One day I’ll tell you all of it”, answered Johnny.