You see, at last night's choir rehearsal Idunn and I learned the embarrassing way that "African time" is not always a popular concept, even in Africa. Our choir is a serious one, and when they say "meet at six pm", they do not mean ten minutes past.
"So, let us not make the same mistake today", we thought. It did not matter how wet we would get, as long as we were at the right place at the right time.
Arriving soaking wet, on time, noe one from the choir was in sight, except from one of its very important men. After five minutes in silence, the man said, "En Norvège, vous connaissez comment arrêter la pluie?" (In Norway, do you know how to stop the rain?). He explained that here in Cameroon, they do not, so the rain seems to stop them instead. We agreed that sorcery was definitely not the way to go, but one could always try praying.
As we saw no immediate answer to our prayers, we joined a small, joyful singing group that had emerged from the lack of anything else to do while waiting. The joy they expressed through their songs made me forget my headache and tiredness for a moment, especially when they sang familiar worship songs in English...
One hour later, motos (motorcycle taxis that we Norwegians are not allowed to take) and a taxi for Idunn and me had taken us all to the cathedral where we were supposed to give the first of many concerts of the coming week (it is Gospel Singers' 40th anniversary), at six o'clock.
Five minutes to seven I sit in a demi-filled cathedral, waiting as the choir is warming up. I am not singing today, because I have mal à la gorge (sore throat) and I am fatiguée (tired).
When the concert will start, I do not know. This is Africa.