The VIP treatment

This entry will be an ode to the VIP. That is right. Arc-en-ciel VIP bus service from Ebolowa to Yaounde, conveniently avoiding the outskirts of Mvon bus gare, the worst place on earth with almost guaranteed pick-pocketing and/or deranging. Although the fare is 2000 FCFA more expensive, with a round trip ticket coming in at 5,000 FCFA (a costly 10 bucks) as opposed to the killer deal of 1,500 FCFA one way (6 bucks round trip), if I am carrying large sums of cash and feel that today is the day I don't want to squeeze 5 asses into a space meant for 4 (thank God we do not live in Bamileke country, but the world of much tinier Bulu people), I will splurge. So far, I have taken the VIP just once leaving Yaounde, and once leaving Ebolowa. Apparently I am convinced that every day I will find the end of my bank account (too late, by all accounts) and usually prefer to take the commoner's bus. Although the VIP bus service comes complete with it's own special salon for avoiding the laymen, and the buses all have televisions, proper individual seats (like a chartered bus in the states), and curtains for blocking out the sun, I prefer to squeeze my bottom in to an overpacked bus, of the not-VIP kind. Benefits to fitting about 40 people in a mini-bus include hours of entertainment that does not include staring at a dry-humping dance sequence Cameroonian music video. Usually this entertainment is at my expense, and involves the speaking of Bulu, a language in which I can agree to everything that I don't understand. Sometimes it involves the laughter of seeing the white girl squeezed in with the masses. Oh, so hilarious, especially when my left butt cheek goes numb. But as long as you pick a row with lots of tiny-behinded people, usually you can at least sit all the way back in the seat.