Coming to America (Part 1 of 3)
Plane conversations, vacuum toilets, and ‘unbean’ food.
The last time I took a plane was the first time I took a plane. That was also the first time I was leaving my parents, my birth country, and the family I’d known for 28 years. I was leaving home.
On my way out of Cameroon, I met seven people whose stories stayed with me. Seven people I may never meet them again.
The first was a young footballer. He’d met Samuel Eto’o at some point in Sports School. Born in the Central African Republic(C.A.R.), raised in Douala, he spoke to me about family and life. He was happy to find out I was going to meet my wife and advised I take the familial bond seriously. He was going back to his home. He hardly sat still. On the connecting flight at C.A.R., my footballer left with a smile.
An older male replaced him. Early forties. Neat shirt. Pressed pants and jacket. He seemed particularly reserved at the start. After takeoff, started talking about his family. I asked his advice about the future, my future. He was very keen to reiterate how important it was to work hard, and for me to focus on what brought me to America. He warned me about distractions and how easy it is to get carried away.
