Puuuuma!

Damn you, Cameroon! Way to make me sad!
I really like that little team. Shoot, I like the entire country.

Short story (I said I wouldn't mention anything that went down in Paris, but this is pertinent):

When we arrived in Paris, it was well past 12AM, and we still had a long train-ride to that piece of shit city of Sarcelles.
On our way to the metro, EVERY SINGLE French person we'd ask for help was a useless asshole.
It was pouring outside, it was cold, we were lost, and no matter how fucking hard we tried to communicate, they'd be fucking jerks who said bullshit about not understanding our accent (motherfuckers. They're the ONLY people I'm a cunt to when it comes to accents. You say your goddamn Rs around me! You hear me? What's that? I can't understand... that accent, it's garbage).
Of course, I'm a sentimental idiot, so after maybe the fifth asshole to treat us like shit came around, I couldn't take it any more, and I started to cry.

We're girls! We're nice girls! We're trying! Is it so fucking hard to be nice and help out?!

In the middle of my crying, I saw a huge M, figured "metro" and we moved on over to the metro.
We struggled our way to our designated area (more asshole-ery from the French. More crying from my behalf), and waited for the train. By the time we reached the waiting area, all three of us were mean-looking bitches ready to fight, and still, these two black guys in suits stood up, and offered us their seats.

"Sillez-vous, mademoiselles"

My friend was confused and wouldn't sit until I translated.
The guy started speaking to us in English.

Guy: You girls are tourists?
Friend: Yeah. Sorry I gave you attitude. We're just... people have been so mean here.
Guy: Where are you headed?
We bust out the map.
Guy: Umm...
Shows friend. They start talking amongst themselves.
Guy: Why?
Sister: Because that's where we're staying.
Guy: Yeah... but why?
Sister: Because that was the only place with rooms available.
Train comes, guy and his friend sit next to us on the train.
Guy: Look, I'm not going to sugar coat it- you guys are going to a... a not so-safe place.
Friend, sister, and I look at each other. I'm PISSED. My sister waited until the last second to book the room in Paris, and now we were going to a fucking ghetto. Thanks!
Me: Oh my God...
Guy: The place you're going isn't too close. I'm going to take you.
We thank him... and again, start crying. This guy was being so nice.
We proceed to introduce ourselves, and we find out the guys are from Cameroon. My response? Oh! Like Samuel Eto'o!
And BAM! Friendship.
The two friends would talk amongst themselves, especially when Edmund (that turned out to be the nicest one's name) started telling us why Sarcelles was so weird. I may not speak French to perfection, but I understand everything they say.
Edmund's Friend: Don't say that. You'll scare the girls!
Edmund: What? I'm just telling them the truth! A couple of young, nice girls walking alone to their hotel in the middle of a cold, rainy night. Would you let your sisters do that?
The rest of the riders would smile, being a little nicer to us now.

When we finally reached our stop, Edmund's friend went to the East, while Edmund started walking with us to the West.
We walked 6 blocks. All the while, Edmund helped with the heaviest bag, and gave us history lessons. Then he apologized for the French.
Edmund: You see... they see you're American, and well... they don't have a problem with you, directly, but they're not happy with the policies of your president. French are funny people.
Me: Well, they're funny people I now HATE.
Edmund: Don't say that. Paris is one of the greatest cities in the world. It's gorgeous. Just... go to your room, sleep, in the morning freshen up, and get ready to give it a second chance. You'll love it.

He walked us to our hotel, we hugged him, and he started walking back to the train station... his suit soaking wet, and his briefcase over his head as his only protection from the rain.

Edmund walked away like a fuckin' cowboy into the sunset... except everything ass-backwards.

And that's why I love Cameroon.
And hate France (although there's wayyy more horror stories concerning that shithole that made me loathe the place).