Departing Douala

Our exodus from Douala Cameroon began with a taxi ride to another hotel. Douala is at the mouth of the Wouri river and is the major port for the country. Development has not kept up with growth and the once ample bridge built in the 1950’s is now a bottleneck. Construction on a new replacement is underway slated for completion in 2019 according to our driver. It towers over the existing structure which carries a rail line down the middle doubling as a passing lane although I doubt if much rail traffic crosses the bridge. During mornings and evenings it can take an hour or more to get across so during a lull we changed hotels.
The fellow pulling our luggage into the room said there was an early bus, that left at 8 so to get there by 6. We accordingly set our alarm and were ready to go before any breakfast (or especially coffee) was available. The driver misunderstood our request, taking us to an unfamiliar, complete war zone of a “bus station” Certainly there were structures masquerading as terminals, decrepit booths  with little roof and less seating. On top of which, at that hour, no one was selling tickets. The rain in the night had filled every pot hole and depression which along with months of garbage, refuse and discards made for a fragrant and unappetizing  prospect to walk through. The amused patrons of the stand we arrived at offered no suggestions. So we commandeered another taxi to take us to the “early bus” stand.
Arriving at the now familiar bus stand it was almost impossible to enter due to the narrow entrance and dedicated taxi drivers, motorcycles and pedestrians streaming in and out. Mayhem barely describes it. Elke alighted to go purchase tickets while our driver jockeyed with the other drivers and entrance guards. He managed to convince them to let him in to disgorge me and the luggage then quickly escaped. After dragging our bags under cover, I stood watching while the line slowly inched forward. It was a long line. Snaking from inside where patrons were seated on benches and shuffled forward as tickets were purchased back again on itself reaching around the roof supports and a pile of luggage, well past the building and onto the “sidewalk” behind.
Out in the yard taxis continued arriving  with more passengers. Trucks and buses came and went backing up slowly with liberal use of the horn as the motorcycles and pedestrians negotiated around the moving vehicles with little concern. Aplomb I believe it is.
A couple of women came up to us who had been at the previous bus “terminal” where tickets were apparently sold out. An explanation for the chaos was soon forthcoming… school start on Monday so everywhere families and children are returning. By 11 o’clock when our bus finally pulled out they had filled three and were working on the fourth.

Neurodiversity in a neurotypical world

In my mid 30’s  I spent a few years working with autistic children in my local school system. Being at the bottom of the seniority list meant I was often assigned to extremely challenging children, mostly boys. Individuals who were non verbal, epileptic, occasionally violent and frequently if not universally, non conforming. I knew next to nothing beyond what I was presented with, having no university training. I did  however have experience with changing diapers, cleaning up barf and being patient with distraught or seemingly inconsolable children.
I recall one day observing a boy, not in my charge, endlessly pacing the room. He’d snag any food left unattended, was “diagnosed” extremely low functioning autistic and seldom engaged unless compelled to. Someone dropped something near his path and I casually said “pick that up___” and he did. In that moment, I knew I wanted to work with him.
Our seniority system had us bid for our jobs according to seniority so I spoke to the fellow currently responsible for that student, warning him I wanted his job. He was ok with it.
I spent the next year studying everything I could find on autism; from the internet, the library, magazines, whatever I could find. Some of it now I realize was misguided, but I lapped it up with enthusiasm.
My fellow was extremely challenged, he never did speak, although he made sounds. I hoped and worked towards the smallest of accomplishments. Little by little he moved toward adapting to the system.
We worked through a number of strategies and procedures suggested by the teacher and consultants. It was an uphill battle, constantly addressing the expectations of an education plan that was mostly designed to facilitate the needs of the school, attempting to mould or adjust behaviour towards conformity and compliance. It was a lesson for me in how a rigid structure is uncompromising in its need for the individuals to accept and adjust to the socially determined standards. There was little allowance or acknowledgement that this boy’s individuality was something that might possibly have value or relevance. Certainly, now my perspective is more informed and defined.
Which brings me to the point of all this.
My limited experience with autism, Aspergers and disability, however it gets defined, has been validated, inspired and enlightened by a phenomenal and amazing  book  I read  recently.  A history and description of the  diagnosis and odd directions the experts and parents have pursued in order to fully understand what autism is.
For so long many believed it could be cured, that it was caused by a number of external interventions  whether the “iceberg mother” or vaccinations. How Aspergers became one end of the spectrum and  individuals through the years capitalized on their neurodiversity in order to survive and thrive in some cases, in spite of so much discouragement, abuse and alienation.
Today many of these individuals are thriving, making their way through the neurotypical universe. People that find it almost impossible to lie, who tell it like it is and prefer the company of like minded are speaking up, stepping out of the background, writing about their experience and living quite independently. Certainly there are some who will never live away from 24 hour support, but the stigma and prejudices are being eroded. How much better would this world be if we could capitalize on the gifts everyone inherently has instead of constantly comparing and competing, disabling and negating anyone who doesn’t fit within the normal range?
 Isn’t time to throw out that term? What is it and who wants to be normal? We are all exceptional individuals, neurodiverse beings working towards perfection, each in our own way.  Celebrate it!