Are we there yet?

The alarm goes off at 6:30 am.  Dave gets up, dresses and is out the door.  He is going to the bus station to pick up tickets to Yaounde – we are going to pick up Julie and we are excited.

I get up, pack a few things.  I never drink or eat before travelling – 7 hours with only one toilet stop is a long time.  Dave returns,  announcing that the bus is leaving at 8, not 9:30 as usual.  So we grab our things go.  Indeed the bus is there waiting when we arrive.  I make my usual last trip to the toilet (read stinky hole in the ground) and board.  The bus if filling up – that is good;  it won`t leave till all seats are sold and passengers on board.  We wait... and wait....  We finally are on our way a 9:30!  Oh well this is Africa.

As we take off, one guy says “Are we there yet?”  I groan.  The entertainment begins.  You see, on every trip, we get a short haul passenger who is either a preacher or a salesman.  This one starts off as a preacher, saying a prayer and asking God for a safe jouney.  Then he goes on to selling some miracle drug or something, in pidgin English. He must have been funny since the whole bus is laughing a lot.  I try to ignore him and read my book.  Soon, I fall asleep – unusual on this bumpy road.  Luckily we are sitting at the front where the bumps are less hurtful to our soft western derrieres.

I snooze off and on, noticing that we are moving along quite well.  We reach Bafoussam with its horrid, pot holed, muddy and unconfortable road.  (It has been this way since we arrived so I have given up saying it is under repair!)  We have lost our salesman on the way.  About an hour later, we arrive at our one stop.  We all pile out and head for the facilities.  100 Francs to get in but they give you toilet paper and the place is relatively clean.  Never mind that the taps don`t work and you have to wash your hand out of buckets outside.  After, we buy oranges and bananas at the adjoining market.  I risk a few gulps of water.

We are making good time and by about 4, we are on the outskirts of Yaounde – we should arrive within the hour.  Not surprisingly, part of the 4 lane road is under repair; all traffic must make do with two lanes.  Well not quite.  There is one line of vehicles coming out of  Yaounde but there are at least two going the other way, with cars, buses, trucks, motorbikes and pedestrians squeezing into any little space they think they can.  Then,  “CRUNCH!”  Some taxi tried to get on the road from the left, cuts it short and the driver, which could not possibly have seen him, gets him in the back door, driver`s side.  The driver, the assistant and several passengers go outside to take part in the ensuing quarrel.  We wait. 

It is quite fascinating to watch the traffc while this is going on. While Africans take a relaxed approach to time, this does not apply to drivers which are aggessive and risk takers.  Our half of the road is about 2.5 higher than the half that has been closed down.  The stream of traffic headed toward us is constant,  slowing to a crawl.  We are blocking a good portion of the road but the vehicles behind us are not waiting;  they are going around the bus – both sides!  Finally a few on coming cars decide to roll down the slope to the closed part of the road – not a bad idea since nothing is going on there.  The real fun starts when the cars following us also decide to use the closed section further back, rejoining the road just in front of our accident.  One car races up, wheels spin, can`t make it up the 2.5 feet of mud.  Try again – almost makes it on two tires.  Backs up, takes a running start – and here he comes...  You realize that he has to cross in front of the oncoming traffic and no one is stopping it!  Luckily some vigilant driver sees what is happening and stops his car while the other one screams up the slope, crosses the road and squeals in front of the bus.  How it was managed without any collision will always be a mystery to me.

It has been about 45 minutes when someone convinces the taxi driver that he was at fault and there is no way the bus company will pay for the damage.  Another guy moves to the back of the taxi, picks it up by the bumper and movers it clear of the bus.  Finally we are on the road, while the poor taxi driver has pulled over and is trying to punch out his read door so that it will close. 

We are moving, sliding into the middle lane.  Then “CRUNCH!”  Yep, the same thing all over again.  We have not been going 3 minutes!  This time it is a private car – and the police arrive to help.  Still another 30 minutes lost.  No one is asking “Are we there yet” as it would surely jinks us.

When we are off again, the bus turns down a side road to loud protest from the passengers.  Many want to continue down the main road to be dropped off along the way.  We turn around, go back up the hill, drive 20 feet and stop for about 20 minutes while about half the passengers get off and their luggage is unloaded. Will we ever get there?

Another 20 minutes and we arrive at the main bus station (not where we expected to end up).   It is now  7 pm. And we have been travelling for almost 12 hours! We are so relieved that we even forget about our bladders.  All we want do to is get a cab which takes us straight to the pizza place, starved and not really believing that yes, we are there.....

A Bemenda Wedding

It is the first Saturday in September.  Being non-African, we arrived at the church on time – 11:00 sharp.  It is a beautiful Presbyterian Church which can hold several hundred people.  But at this point, it is virtually empty – not a dozen people if you don’t count the choir which is warming up.

Slowly people start arriving.  The civil ceremony, which was held prior at city council was delayed.  We spot a few people from Dave's work - it is their colleague who is being married today.  At about 12:45, it begins with th slowest bridal entrance ever.  First 6 ushers take their posts along the aisle to form
a guard of honour for the bride.  The bridal party starts with 4 little boys all dressed in dark suits and 4 little girls, all in white.  They are followed by 4 bridesmaids and 4 groomsmen.  After them come the tiniest ring

come the tiniest ring bearer and flower girl, he is a light gold suit to match the groom's (who is waiting at the front), she in a dress of the same style and ivory colour as the bride's.  The bride and her parents close the procession, pacing slowly.  She is wearing a great smile.


The service was very near the Catholic ones I am used to.  There were a few differences.  The bride was ushered to sit with her parents.  Once the service began, the pastor asked “Who gives this woman today?”  At that cue, her father rises to say he did and walks to bride to sit beside her husband to be, with matron of honour and best man behind them.  The pastor asks if anyone knows of any reason the wedding should not happen; the groom and bride make a similar declaration.  The bride and groom themselves walked up to the dais and read the readings themselves.  The service continues with a 45 minute homily and lots of singing of hymns and chanting to the beat of African drums.  Vows are exchanged with great applause.  Three hours later, we say the final Amen and the new couple marches out slowly. 

Many pictures are taken on the steps of the church, including one with the NOWEFOR team, which then quickly repaired to the nearest pub for a pre-reception drink.

The hall was nice – but too small for the number of people.  With small windows, it was not long before the temperature rose.  Snacks and drinks were waiting on the tables for us.  The festivities began with the new couple entering to some music and sitting on two large decorated wicker chairs under a canopy.  Speeches are given before the couple stands at the front while dancing, swaying people come to present gifts:  first the bride’s family, then the groom’s, then the colleagues, then the friends.  Man, were we getting hungry! 


And we were not disappointed.  The food was plenty and tasty.  A mixed salad, two rice dishes, baked beans, spaghetti, fish, chicken, watermelon….


It was not long after dinner that the Chair of NOWEFOR decided to leave – so we followed.  I know there was to be a dancing evening after but we figured we came early, we’ll leave early.  We still gained a few more insights into African tradition.  

Working children

Last Thursday, when it was very quiet, I went to get something from the shelf at the other end of the meeting room.  As I walked along, a movement behind the pillar caught my eye.  I found a little boy; I would guess six years old, looking very upset.  I asked if I could help.  With tears in his eyes, he told me his story but his voice was so soft, all I could make out was “plantains”.  By this time, my one other colleague in the office is coming forward.  He bends down to ask the little boy to repeat his story.  He had been here a little earlier, he said, selling plantains.  A woman agreed to buy some and sent him to get a bag for them.  When he returned, he only found our large empty space, no woman, no plantains, no money.  You could see, with his little eyes brimming with tears that he was on the verge of panic.  What he lost may very well have represented his family’s evening meal, or a substantial part of it.  How was he going to explain the loss?  He said the woman had been on the balcony, so we took him there to show there was no one.  Then it occurred to us that he was on the wrong floor.  My colleague took him upstairs and sure enough, the woman was found and the plantains were recovered.  My heart went out to that little tyke and I was so relieved that we solved the mystery for him. 

The bottom line is that no child that age should have to walk up and down busy streets, among people, cars, motorbikes, moving carts, with a load on their heads, selling whatever they can get their hands on, just so their family can survive  Yet thousands do.  Many walk around with old scales offering to weigh you for 25 francs or carrying popcorn or coconut or bananas, whatever.  As we in the west spent small fortunes on good quality food and fine wines, families here sometimes survive one or two meals a day, usually rice with oily tomato stew, maybe plantains or yams.  Most families here can only afford to have meat once or twice a week, and even then, the quality is very poor. 

Walking home from dinner last night, Dave and I were walking along Nkwen road where there are many stalls where street vendors sell food.  It was already dark out.  We noticed one stall which was run by two little boys, selling roasted fish.  They appeared to be around 5 and 7. 

I don’t want to have to see this anymore…. But I don’t want to become so accustomed to it that I don’t see it anymore.

A very full weekend

Catholic Mission, Ndop

We intended to travel to Ndop (1 hour out of Bamenda) on Friday morning, for a day long VSO volunteer meeting.  However, a call from one of the organisers on Thursday informed us that a paid up bed was available at the Catholic mission if we wanted to come early.  We arrived in Ndop in time for a delicious evening meal.

Missions such as this, run by religious groups are the best place to stay when travelling around Cameroon.  They are not luxurious, but always clean, with working toilets, good food and hot water.  After the meal, we gathered at our cottage – 5 rooms arranged around a common room.  We sat and chatted.  I headed for the sac about 9 but the hardy ones continued several hours.  It is hard to explain how valuable this time with fellow volunteers is – a wonderful opportunity to share experiences and frustrations.  It makes you realize that you are not the only one having doubts. 

Kareen, Heather, Amelita, Rob

 The next day’s sessions went well.  A lot of good work was done,with some recommendations about volunteer support going back to VSO Cameroon and a better understanding of financial management in NGOs and councils. 

Friday night, we headed off to Jakiri with a volunteer Shamsul to visit his house.  This is another 1 – 3 hours further, depending on the condition of the roads.  Another colleague, Pat, who lives another hour or so beyond in Kumba came along.  We bought extra seats in the taxi (otherwise you have to wait for the driver to fill his car with six others – they want 8 in a car).  I said the roads in Cameroon were bad – in this case there was barely a road at all – just muddy rut after muddy rut.  Potholes that could swallow a VW Beetle are hardly and exaggeration.  And the road was dry – imagine after a heavy rain!  We bumped our way up the mountain to Jakiri.  Wide vistas, revealing ribbons of falls down the cliff, greeted us at every corner – spectacular!

Shamsul is muslim – currently fasting for Ramadan.  But as soon as the sun set, we were presented with fresh dates, bananas and nuts.  This was followed by an excellent beef curry, mixed vegetables and plain rice.  Do I need to tell you we overate!  After the meal, we watched a Bollywood movie with occasional English subtitles.  We did manage to follow the plot – which was very funny!  Then to bed, which was the most comfortable bed we have slept in for months!

After a lazy Saturday morning for me, an early departure for Pat (to beat the rain) and a walk to the summit for Dave and Shamsul, we hired a taxi back to Bamenda, which we reached in record time – 2 hours – just missing the rain.

The road down from Shamsul's

In Bamenda, Dave gets a text from Simon, inviting us to beautiful Belo to celebrate his birthday.  So, Sunday, off we go for another ride in the mountains, about an hour away to enjoy some relaxation time with other volunteers before heading back again. 

Thank goodness today, Monday, is a national holiday, giving us the opportunity to sleep in and rest after a very full weekend.  

New Placement

After all this time, I finally have a new placement. All was finalized yesterday (Friday).

My new organizations is the North West Association for Development Organizations (NWADO). It is a networking agency with about 35 development organizations as members. I think I will be very busy there.

There were a few things I wanted out of the placement – which I did get. One is the flexibility to complete some projects that I started when between placements. Since all the projects and VSO related and since all the affected organizations are NWADO members, there was no issue there. Also, I retain some flexibility to continue to support HOPE, informally, if they request it. (More on this in a later paragraph.)

On the other hand, there are many things which I am expected to work on. First is a membership survey to assess what services members want from NWADO. Since it is the end of their 5 year plan, it makes sense to do this. Second, I will be supporting volunteers from the Welsh Assembly which will now come through NWADO. These are Welsh Civil Servants who come for a 6 week placements. They will be placed in different local councils (villages) so I will hopefully get to visit them there. Third, I will be working with a women’s rights organization to prepare a grant for a gender workshop (they are also NWADO members). Finally, I will help re-establish the shared area for VSO volunteers in Bamenda. That is a place where they can come to chat and share resources etc. At least that is a starting point.

I am looking forward to getting busy again – sitting at home has never been good for me.

As for HOPE, they are hoping to find a way to be less dependent on a single funder – and as best as I can, I will support them in that process. I also hope to continue helping them make for effective use of their computers etc.

So there it is…. Watch this space – there are bound to be interesting stories!

Visiting the Extreme North

For those of us who live in Canada, even in the UK, it is hard to imagine that any place in Africa, let alone Cameroon, could be called the “Extreme North”. But it exists, further north than the North Region (of Cameroon) and of the Far North Region. It is just east of Nigeria, South of Niger and West of Chad. More striking is that is it on the very edges of the Sahara desert. It takes 2 full days to get there from Bamenda and that includes an all night train trip.

As we drive closer to our destination Maroua, the landscape changes. Driving down from low mountains, the savannah displays its short trees and low grasses. Small herds of very skinny cows, goats and several donkeys graze quietly. Scattered here and there are traditional thatched huts, usually huddled in a group. The huts are not very big; I understand that there is usually one for each wife and her children and there may be one for storage. Of course, the head of the family has his own. It is a tough life for these villagers who have no electricity and no running water.

The rainy season has just begun in the Extreme North. That means that fields that are normally expanses of sand are showing some green: short grasses and the new shoots of the annual crop – maize, cotton, millet. In the middle of Maroua, there is even a small field of rice. However good that sounds, there is a real shortage of food. The rainy season came late and so the crops are late. Last year’s stock is long gone and market prices are up. People do not have sufficient food and a large number of the population is mal-nourished. Fruit is rare. If you have been following the crisis in Niger, it is working its way down to the Extreme North of Cameroon.

Our stay there was none the less pleasant. We stayed in a newer hotel with a good restaurant and a comfortable terrace. The rooms are clean, with A/C and hot water showers. The rooms are arranged around a treed courtyard where geckos of varying sizes and colours scuttle about. The only annoying part was the large amount of house flies and mosquitoes. (Canadian mosquitos may be big but you can hear them coming and the sting does not continue for three days. More importantly, they do not carry malaria!)

Dave and I were part of an exchange trip: representatives from two NGOs and two village councils were meeting a similar contingent from the Extreme North. We had four days of exchange and one day a VSO only meeting. It was great to greet colleagues and meet new friends. One morning, we went on a field trip to a counsel and then to a cotton and millet farm. On the way back, we spotted the 'sacred' mountain with a natural rock formation that resembles a sitting budha.  Quite amazing! The meetings were useful, though long drawn (time management is no one’s strong suit in Cameroon!). I felt like I was back in Canada as there were both French and English speakers and everything had to be translated. There was an excellent exchange of ideas and commitments to continue to learn from each other.

Part of our group made a very interesting visit to the Lamido (tribal chief) of one of the tribes. He received us in a carpeted room with little furniture. Shoes were left at the door and we discovered later that women were not supposed to enter without head cover – wish we had been told. The Lamino was quite gracious however, sitting on a sofa rather than his elaborate throne. He gave us an expose of the tribe’s history and patiently answered questions from the audience – first in his native language, then in French , then in English. The Lamido is a tall, smart and handsome man so it was not surprising to hear that he had 4 official wives, one ‘unofficial’ wife and 16 chilldren.

Not sure I will ever be back in the Extreme North but it is a trip I will not soon forget.

Belo

If you have not heard from me yet about my placement, it is because I still don’t know…. There is a potential placement in the works but nothing has been confirmed so I am still waiting. This is Africa – nothing happens quickly.

In the meantime, I have been trying to keep busy, helping out some colleagues with projects etc. One of these brought Dave and I to a small village called Belo, about 1 hour away from Bamenda. Nestled in the hills, it has beautiful scenery – cliffs, falls, etc. We have two VSO colleagues in Belo: Amy and Simon.

The first day, we arrived at about noon and Simon took us to a local ‘chop shop’ for rice and tomato stew – a staple around here. Afterwards we walked around town in the rain, admiring some of the vistas. We paid a brief visit to Amy’s organization. Then we trudged our way back to the compound where they both live. By this time, the road to the compound was all muddy and rutted – part of the adventure.

That night we stayed at Amy’s house – a nice big three bedroom house. She fed us a very good meal and we chatted away. She has a small balcony from which the view is spectacular. In the evening, we could see the clouds, at our level, wafting through the valley. In the morning we sat on the same balcony, sipping coffee and enjoying the fresh mountain air.

The next day, Simon, was kind enough to take us on the Belo walk. This is a trail that was marked by a local NGO that takes you right around the village. Simon promised that it was an easy walk. Clearly, he is in much better shape than I. Up and down the path went – and it was hot! The surroundings were simply beautiful! We often came upon thatched huts that so many of the locals live in. I only made it about half way before taking the short cut back to Simon’s.

As we headed back home, we passed Nbingo. The reason this is of note is that it is the hospital where our daughter Julie is likely to be working when she comes to visit in September. We are very excited about her visit and about being able to take the opportunity for her to also do her annual African volunteering stint. Couldn’t have worked out better.