In the west of Cameroon the main language spoken is Pidgin, although Cameroonian Pidgin English (CPE) does not have official status like English, it is spoken widely in this part of the country. There is a Pidgin Bible, you'll hear it in the bars, in the taxis and everywhere you go because Pidgin is the language of the street.
It's a strange language in your ears at first, you hear a lot of english words so you feel like you can understand a lot, it's not indesiferable. But they speak it so fast and with such fluidity that the words flow into one so it's easy to lose track, then suddenly a word like 'white man' will pop up and you realise that yes, they have been talking about you. My response to any Pidgin question posed is usually, 'I di speak Pidgin small small'. You don't need to be a hieroglyphics code-breaker like Howard Carter to work out what that means.
Most of the english verbs are used with the adition of 'am' on the end meaning 'it'. So you'll hear things like 'take-am' or 'leave-am'. My favoriye use of the verbs is for the future tense though. If you wanted to say 'i'm going to go' you'd say in Pidgin - 'I di go go'.
Good words like 'Mimbo' meaning drink and 'chop' which means eat will be heard regularly as everyone likes to chop and everyone is partial to a mimbo.
There are also a lot of Portuguese words prevelant in the language from the times of the first settlers to arrive at the ports. Words like 'Piqueno' became 'Pikin' in Pidgin meaning child. My favourite word is 'palava' meaning trouble.
The language gets a bit of bad rap and not everybody accepts the language despite it having its own syntax and grammatical rules. It is blamed for slipping academic standards and the poor level of english pronunciation amongst some people. In Yaounde, a francophone area for example, i encountered a lot of people who regard it with a low self image.
I think it's cool as i realise it gives the people a sense of identity and pride, however it's obviously essential to learn english as it is the link to many other countries. And i can't hate a language which has provided me with one of the funniest prases i've ever heard....
Can i feel your power?
Meaning, Can i feel your muscles, sir?
Thursday 29 May 2008
Tuesday 27 May 2008
10 things to bring to Cameroon
Here is a short list of things that are essential for a stay in Cameroon. I've looked at a few guide books on the country and none of these things are on there.
1. Earplugs - You will not believe how loud people listen to music here, it's obtrusively loud, and the sound carries for miles at night.
2. Candles - When it rains they sometimes shut off the power. You may be able to get candles here like i have, but it wouldn't be pleasant to spend your first night in darkness.
3. Hand and face wipes - Handy for when you're out and there is no water source to wash your hands.
4. Swiss army Knife - I've spent a lot of my time fixing things here, srewing this and tightening that. A swiss army knife would have been ideal.
5. Small toys - As i've seen volunteers leave it's clear that you don't just get away with a 'Gooodbye, remember me', a small toy or gift is a quite sought after item for the wee kids around here.
6. Books - Bring so many books. At night there are three choices - drink, exercise or read. I indulge in all three but reading has become a real passion of mine at the moment. Also a book with pictures on your country of origin, people find it fascinating.
7. Torch - I brought a wind-up one that i basically owe my life to as i can read at night. Thanks Dad.
8. Radio - Since i had my ipod nicked i considered buying one. A wind-up one would be wicked though.
9. Musical instrument - If you play one, bring it. My guitar has been a life saver to me at points, the wee dudes love it too.
10. Raincoat - the words 'when it rains it pours' have never rung truer for me
1. Earplugs - You will not believe how loud people listen to music here, it's obtrusively loud, and the sound carries for miles at night.
2. Candles - When it rains they sometimes shut off the power. You may be able to get candles here like i have, but it wouldn't be pleasant to spend your first night in darkness.
3. Hand and face wipes - Handy for when you're out and there is no water source to wash your hands.
4. Swiss army Knife - I've spent a lot of my time fixing things here, srewing this and tightening that. A swiss army knife would have been ideal.
5. Small toys - As i've seen volunteers leave it's clear that you don't just get away with a 'Gooodbye, remember me', a small toy or gift is a quite sought after item for the wee kids around here.
6. Books - Bring so many books. At night there are three choices - drink, exercise or read. I indulge in all three but reading has become a real passion of mine at the moment. Also a book with pictures on your country of origin, people find it fascinating.
7. Torch - I brought a wind-up one that i basically owe my life to as i can read at night. Thanks Dad.
8. Radio - Since i had my ipod nicked i considered buying one. A wind-up one would be wicked though.
9. Musical instrument - If you play one, bring it. My guitar has been a life saver to me at points, the wee dudes love it too.
10. Raincoat - the words 'when it rains it pours' have never rung truer for me
Monday 26 May 2008
There is a first time for everything
This is my first time coming to the African continent, i was a bit scared at first but i jumped in with both feet and managed to keep my head above the water and achieve alot, i did almost drown at one point though.
It's so interesting here and there seems to be no end to nthe surprises, it's quite fantastical.
I've been here through the strike action and without wanting to be too melodramatic, it's the closest i'm going to get to war being a conscientious objector. Everytime i get on a bus it's like being part of a poorly rehearsed slapstick sketch, if it wasn't so funny it'd be bloody terrifying.
My Francophone friend, Ines, had a few firsts while i've been here too. I bought her her first ever burger, and get this, when we all escorted Meredith to the airport, she had her first pizza in Douala!!. She thought it was delicious naturally, but she's probably not going to be too happy about me blabbing about it on the internet. So whilst i'm already in trouble i'll tell you about the first time she heard the Flaming Lips on my ipod, a potentially strange experience for anyone. After careful deliberation, she chose her words carefully 'i've never heard anything like that in my life'. She says she used to listen to the BBC world service and her favourite bands were 'the cranberries' and 'the blur'.
We also went clubbing for Wishas birthday on friday and it was her first time in a club. We all had a wicked time and i got a little bit tipsy.
There is a first time for everything.
It's so interesting here and there seems to be no end to nthe surprises, it's quite fantastical.
I've been here through the strike action and without wanting to be too melodramatic, it's the closest i'm going to get to war being a conscientious objector. Everytime i get on a bus it's like being part of a poorly rehearsed slapstick sketch, if it wasn't so funny it'd be bloody terrifying.
My Francophone friend, Ines, had a few firsts while i've been here too. I bought her her first ever burger, and get this, when we all escorted Meredith to the airport, she had her first pizza in Douala!!. She thought it was delicious naturally, but she's probably not going to be too happy about me blabbing about it on the internet. So whilst i'm already in trouble i'll tell you about the first time she heard the Flaming Lips on my ipod, a potentially strange experience for anyone. After careful deliberation, she chose her words carefully 'i've never heard anything like that in my life'. She says she used to listen to the BBC world service and her favourite bands were 'the cranberries' and 'the blur'.
We also went clubbing for Wishas birthday on friday and it was her first time in a club. We all had a wicked time and i got a little bit tipsy.
There is a first time for everything.
Thursday 22 May 2008
One child - one chicken
UAC and the Jamadianale school has had a lot of attention from people in Cameroon due to its holistic approach to education, small class sizes and innovative programmes.
Today the one child - one chicken and the one child - one tree programmes were launched at the school, the baking sun above us showed zero mercy, but the big ceremony was a great success despite the prolific heat. The class 5's were presented with a live chick and the class 4's were given seeds to plant a tree.
I watched as these wee chicks were handed out in plastic bags to the kids, i couldn't decide whether it was a good idea or a really bad one. The thinking behind it was these kids take these chicks away to rear them over the summer holidays and thus instilling in them the importance of living things and the hardships that are synonymous with caring for them. When they come back to school they are going to sell the fully grown chickens in an auction arranged by UAC, this will give them the values of making a sustainable income from the land. Good ideas in principle, but when you've got 60 kids carrying chickens in a bag, it's hard for your mind to make up its mind. Some were carrying them at arms length in fear of their cute, fluffy, adorable faces. Some were curiously and shamelessly inspecting the birds' genitalia. I thought to myself, this is madness, but it's just crazy enough to work. I'm not sure how the wee chicks felt about it though.
The class 4's were given tree seeds and a bag to plant them in, not quite as ceremonious as a live fowl granted, but the important message was still there. They are going to plant the saplings at home and bring them to the new school site in the new term to be planted in the compound. Again these wee kids will learn the importance of living things and maybe in the future they will be less inclined to cut down are leafy friends, for if it wasn't for them we wouldn't be here at all. I presented the first girl with 6 seeds for planting, she smiled at me like she didn't have a clue what was going on, i said in her ear, 'here is some magic beans, plant them and they will grow taller than you'. She looked at me even more confused but she smiled emphatically. Some dude with a video camera filmed it all so maybe i'll be on Cameroonian T.V.
There was a carnival atmosphere in the school and Mr. Orock was giving interviews to different people and presenting the show. Kids were walking about with little bemused chicks peering out of bags with abject fear in their eyes. It was all rather surreal and i got a bit snap-happy with the old camera because it seemed wherever i looked there was a photo opportunity. It's days like when i realise i'm in Cameroon. It hits my face like a wet slap of water and suddenly i'm looking at a sea of kids holding petrified chickens aloft wrapped in crude plastic bags, I wish i could explain it better to you and to myself, but i do have photographic evidence, so i know it definately happened.
Today the one child - one chicken and the one child - one tree programmes were launched at the school, the baking sun above us showed zero mercy, but the big ceremony was a great success despite the prolific heat. The class 5's were presented with a live chick and the class 4's were given seeds to plant a tree.
I watched as these wee chicks were handed out in plastic bags to the kids, i couldn't decide whether it was a good idea or a really bad one. The thinking behind it was these kids take these chicks away to rear them over the summer holidays and thus instilling in them the importance of living things and the hardships that are synonymous with caring for them. When they come back to school they are going to sell the fully grown chickens in an auction arranged by UAC, this will give them the values of making a sustainable income from the land. Good ideas in principle, but when you've got 60 kids carrying chickens in a bag, it's hard for your mind to make up its mind. Some were carrying them at arms length in fear of their cute, fluffy, adorable faces. Some were curiously and shamelessly inspecting the birds' genitalia. I thought to myself, this is madness, but it's just crazy enough to work. I'm not sure how the wee chicks felt about it though.
The class 4's were given tree seeds and a bag to plant them in, not quite as ceremonious as a live fowl granted, but the important message was still there. They are going to plant the saplings at home and bring them to the new school site in the new term to be planted in the compound. Again these wee kids will learn the importance of living things and maybe in the future they will be less inclined to cut down are leafy friends, for if it wasn't for them we wouldn't be here at all. I presented the first girl with 6 seeds for planting, she smiled at me like she didn't have a clue what was going on, i said in her ear, 'here is some magic beans, plant them and they will grow taller than you'. She looked at me even more confused but she smiled emphatically. Some dude with a video camera filmed it all so maybe i'll be on Cameroonian T.V.
There was a carnival atmosphere in the school and Mr. Orock was giving interviews to different people and presenting the show. Kids were walking about with little bemused chicks peering out of bags with abject fear in their eyes. It was all rather surreal and i got a bit snap-happy with the old camera because it seemed wherever i looked there was a photo opportunity. It's days like when i realise i'm in Cameroon. It hits my face like a wet slap of water and suddenly i'm looking at a sea of kids holding petrified chickens aloft wrapped in crude plastic bags, I wish i could explain it better to you and to myself, but i do have photographic evidence, so i know it definately happened.
Tuesday 20 May 2008
National day
On May 20th 1972 the Anglophone and Francophone regions of Cameroon came together and formed the 'Unified Republic of Cameroon' That day is now celebrated with a public holiday and a giant march pass in its honour. We attended it today.
And when i say march pass, i mean march pass. Everyone and their mother joined the cue today to march in the baking sun. We were hanging out with Jamadianle kids before it started and it was power-sappingly hot and ram-jammed with school kids in their best uniforms. It was the kind of heat that makes you feel what bread goes through before being done, i couldn't think, my body was to busy sweating for me. All the wee kids were gagging on water as well. One funny wee dude reached such heights of desperation that he actually came up and just demanded money off me. Enough was enough.
We watched all the schools of Buea march past the governor at bongo square and we snapped like crazy, it's a real photo opportunity, as the uniforms are so retro and brightly coloured. The wee dudes swinging their arms in a mock comedy fashion is also a sight to behold.
Unlike national youth day in february which only celebrated the kids in the area, this march promised a whole lot more. The military with their tanks and guns and mean stoical mugs marched past us and we dared not snap them for fear of getting our camera confiscated or a nuke up our jacksies. Along with the goons of fear and war, there were less threatning social groups that wanted to show their pride on this fine day, like the tailors of Buea - all your fabric needs met under one roof.
It was all very fun and we rounded off the afternoon with a drink at Abidjan with the teachers of Jamadianle.
Happy National day Cameroon.
And when i say march pass, i mean march pass. Everyone and their mother joined the cue today to march in the baking sun. We were hanging out with Jamadianle kids before it started and it was power-sappingly hot and ram-jammed with school kids in their best uniforms. It was the kind of heat that makes you feel what bread goes through before being done, i couldn't think, my body was to busy sweating for me. All the wee kids were gagging on water as well. One funny wee dude reached such heights of desperation that he actually came up and just demanded money off me. Enough was enough.
We watched all the schools of Buea march past the governor at bongo square and we snapped like crazy, it's a real photo opportunity, as the uniforms are so retro and brightly coloured. The wee dudes swinging their arms in a mock comedy fashion is also a sight to behold.
Unlike national youth day in february which only celebrated the kids in the area, this march promised a whole lot more. The military with their tanks and guns and mean stoical mugs marched past us and we dared not snap them for fear of getting our camera confiscated or a nuke up our jacksies. Along with the goons of fear and war, there were less threatning social groups that wanted to show their pride on this fine day, like the tailors of Buea - all your fabric needs met under one roof.
It was all very fun and we rounded off the afternoon with a drink at Abidjan with the teachers of Jamadianle.
Happy National day Cameroon.
Sunday 18 May 2008
Limbé and the lake
After breakfast yesterday, Valerie, Wisha and I headed to mile 17 to get a bus to Limbé. To any future volunteers coming to Buea you should know that Limbé is about 40 minutes away by bus and it is absolutely beautiful, it has the warm Atlantic ocean and spectacular black volcanic beaches.
We chose Atlantic beach and had some beer with the sand beneath our feet and the ocean and the islands streching out before us. As much as i love Portobello beach in Edinburgh it is made to look like a gravel-pit in my mind compared to this place. The water here is of a deep-blue hue and it both contrasts and harmonises with the browny-black sand of the beach. Fishing boats bob up and down in an organic rhythm with the tide. It's wicked.
The sun was scorchio though so we opted for some shade and some fish. It had probably been swimming in the ocean about an hour ago and it was so fresh it melted in my mouth, strangely enough, it went very, very well with some cold beer. I'm fond of a wee fish supper back home but i'm a bit worried as to how it's going to taste when i return home, enough brown sauce can make anything taste delicious when used liberally though.
As we dined we paroused the Bradt travel guide for Cameroon and it had suggestions on where to go from Limbé. We impulsively decided to go to the Boana Falls and Lake Debundscha. The book said we should head to the Botanic Gardens to acquire a guide. Two motorbikes were commandeered and we were there in no time. After a few inquiries we quickly met our guide Paul who arranged a car that would take us there and wait for us, all at quite a reasonable rate. He told us that it would not be visable to go to Boana Falls as the treck was pretty long and it was too late in the day for it, but the treck to Debundscha lake could be achieved in an hour. Okay, lets go.
We headed west of Limbé and seen the lava trail of the eruption from Mount Cameroon in 1997 and on through a massive palm oil plantation. We stopped by the beach and the driver went to pay the village chiefs of Debundscha for the privilage of visiting the lake.
We strolled along a beautiful beach with the strong waves lapping up on our legs. My flip-flop got washed off my foot and i thought our expedition was gonna finish before it started, but luckily the tide gave it back to me. We left the beach and into the thick coastal forest that climbed up and fell down through some specatcular scenery. The trail was pretty over-grown in places but was very accessible, it was only made difficult by the fact we all had flip-flops on. My feet took a battering.
We straddled the coast for a few kilometres with the relentless roaring of the tide on our left and the tremor of thunder to our right. We were on our way to the wettest places on Earth. We came to a flight of stairs that looked like the inspration for the temple of Doom and i relished my adventure as i felt like Indiana Jones. We climbed the chaotic stairs and reached an old abandoned German lighthouse and a new modern metal one that wasn't quite as aesthetically pleasing. Paul, our friendly guide, said we could climb the structure when we get back, but now he wanted to push on to the lake as he feared the weather was changing for the worse, as if on cue the sky rumbled in ominous aggreement.
The final treck was tough but we were spurred on by our anticipation of seeing the lake. One last push up a big knotted tree root and there it was - a perfectly spherical expanse of limey-green water surrounded by exotic trees. I gawped and gasped at the beauty of it and i sat in my own perspiration and basked in the tranquility of the place. As i took in the marvellous scene i thought to myself, 'it's good to be impulsive sometimes' We came to Limbé for a few beers, a bit of sun and a fish, but here we were, looking at an ancient, volcanic crater lake.
After a short while we began our treck back. We got to the lighthouse and Wisha and I climbed up the 40ft beacon. At the top we seen the jagged coast and the lush rolling green mountains in all their splendour and i got very trigger-happy with the old camera. The lighthouse began swaying quite a bit which was worrying enough to make us stay for only a few minutes. Then it was back to the deep waves crashing on the spectacular secluded beach.
A little shoal of tiny fish had been washed onto the beach and we ran to save them before they suffocated. We threw the wee tiddlers back in and i felt a deep sense of karma for having eat their big delicious Dad earlier.
We met the car and got back to Limbé and went for a pizza hunt and more beer. Pizza was sold out but a little thing like that didn't frustrate me after having experienced such a beautiful part of the world.
We chose Atlantic beach and had some beer with the sand beneath our feet and the ocean and the islands streching out before us. As much as i love Portobello beach in Edinburgh it is made to look like a gravel-pit in my mind compared to this place. The water here is of a deep-blue hue and it both contrasts and harmonises with the browny-black sand of the beach. Fishing boats bob up and down in an organic rhythm with the tide. It's wicked.
The sun was scorchio though so we opted for some shade and some fish. It had probably been swimming in the ocean about an hour ago and it was so fresh it melted in my mouth, strangely enough, it went very, very well with some cold beer. I'm fond of a wee fish supper back home but i'm a bit worried as to how it's going to taste when i return home, enough brown sauce can make anything taste delicious when used liberally though.
As we dined we paroused the Bradt travel guide for Cameroon and it had suggestions on where to go from Limbé. We impulsively decided to go to the Boana Falls and Lake Debundscha. The book said we should head to the Botanic Gardens to acquire a guide. Two motorbikes were commandeered and we were there in no time. After a few inquiries we quickly met our guide Paul who arranged a car that would take us there and wait for us, all at quite a reasonable rate. He told us that it would not be visable to go to Boana Falls as the treck was pretty long and it was too late in the day for it, but the treck to Debundscha lake could be achieved in an hour. Okay, lets go.
We headed west of Limbé and seen the lava trail of the eruption from Mount Cameroon in 1997 and on through a massive palm oil plantation. We stopped by the beach and the driver went to pay the village chiefs of Debundscha for the privilage of visiting the lake.
We strolled along a beautiful beach with the strong waves lapping up on our legs. My flip-flop got washed off my foot and i thought our expedition was gonna finish before it started, but luckily the tide gave it back to me. We left the beach and into the thick coastal forest that climbed up and fell down through some specatcular scenery. The trail was pretty over-grown in places but was very accessible, it was only made difficult by the fact we all had flip-flops on. My feet took a battering.
We straddled the coast for a few kilometres with the relentless roaring of the tide on our left and the tremor of thunder to our right. We were on our way to the wettest places on Earth. We came to a flight of stairs that looked like the inspration for the temple of Doom and i relished my adventure as i felt like Indiana Jones. We climbed the chaotic stairs and reached an old abandoned German lighthouse and a new modern metal one that wasn't quite as aesthetically pleasing. Paul, our friendly guide, said we could climb the structure when we get back, but now he wanted to push on to the lake as he feared the weather was changing for the worse, as if on cue the sky rumbled in ominous aggreement.
The final treck was tough but we were spurred on by our anticipation of seeing the lake. One last push up a big knotted tree root and there it was - a perfectly spherical expanse of limey-green water surrounded by exotic trees. I gawped and gasped at the beauty of it and i sat in my own perspiration and basked in the tranquility of the place. As i took in the marvellous scene i thought to myself, 'it's good to be impulsive sometimes' We came to Limbé for a few beers, a bit of sun and a fish, but here we were, looking at an ancient, volcanic crater lake.
After a short while we began our treck back. We got to the lighthouse and Wisha and I climbed up the 40ft beacon. At the top we seen the jagged coast and the lush rolling green mountains in all their splendour and i got very trigger-happy with the old camera. The lighthouse began swaying quite a bit which was worrying enough to make us stay for only a few minutes. Then it was back to the deep waves crashing on the spectacular secluded beach.
A little shoal of tiny fish had been washed onto the beach and we ran to save them before they suffocated. We threw the wee tiddlers back in and i felt a deep sense of karma for having eat their big delicious Dad earlier.
We met the car and got back to Limbé and went for a pizza hunt and more beer. Pizza was sold out but a little thing like that didn't frustrate me after having experienced such a beautiful part of the world.
Wednesday 14 May 2008
The Cameroon sun
Wednesday is music class and today there was music. It's a fun time. We are rehearsing for music day at the end of term (which is drwawing even nearer) and we are now fine-tuning our performance. All the wee kids are fascinated by my guitar so new people keep joining the class. They really love it and enjoy singing their wee hearts out.
Today Steven had a new song about welcoming the parents of Jamadianle to graduation day. Quite a nice wee ditty once we finally got to sing it. Steven is a really good teacher but today i began to question his methods when he made them repeat the first line close to one hundred times. I thought man, this guy is a real perfectionist like Phil Spector or someone, i half expected him to pull a gun out he was being so persistent. The line 'our dear parents' began to sound strange after hearing it like a broken record. But i realised it was not just perfection he strived for, but it was the repetition to help the wee dudes remember.
My song 'Cameroon Sun' is fast becoming a classic by the way. Kids even sing it to me on the street. One wee guy even said to me that 'it was the greatest song he had ever heard' Bold praise indeed and i think he deserves an ice-cream. I'll let you judge by the quality of the lyrics. Dylan read on..
"The Cameroon sun rises in the morning,
And with it another day is dawning,
And another day begins in my life today,
Feeling happy because the sun is shining,
And it's beautiful, beautiful, beautiful x3
The Cameroon sun is beautful today,"
Showtime is marching ever nearer and we've got about a 10 minute gig together, complete with the national anthem, homemade shakers, drums and tamborines made by me.
The kids really enjoy it and so do i. Hope it goes well.
Today Steven had a new song about welcoming the parents of Jamadianle to graduation day. Quite a nice wee ditty once we finally got to sing it. Steven is a really good teacher but today i began to question his methods when he made them repeat the first line close to one hundred times. I thought man, this guy is a real perfectionist like Phil Spector or someone, i half expected him to pull a gun out he was being so persistent. The line 'our dear parents' began to sound strange after hearing it like a broken record. But i realised it was not just perfection he strived for, but it was the repetition to help the wee dudes remember.
My song 'Cameroon Sun' is fast becoming a classic by the way. Kids even sing it to me on the street. One wee guy even said to me that 'it was the greatest song he had ever heard' Bold praise indeed and i think he deserves an ice-cream. I'll let you judge by the quality of the lyrics. Dylan read on..
"The Cameroon sun rises in the morning,
And with it another day is dawning,
And another day begins in my life today,
Feeling happy because the sun is shining,
And it's beautiful, beautiful, beautiful x3
The Cameroon sun is beautful today,"
Showtime is marching ever nearer and we've got about a 10 minute gig together, complete with the national anthem, homemade shakers, drums and tamborines made by me.
The kids really enjoy it and so do i. Hope it goes well.
Tuesday 13 May 2008
Lightning girl
Another new girl has arrived, a Dutch girl named Wisha, she's a good laugh and she likes beer. She is alright in my book. So there's now 5 girls and me and there's another two volunteers coming by the end of the month, both female. Not bad from living alone for a month to estrogen island. I'm quite happy thank you.
It's been pretty hot here recently and it hasn't rained for close to a week so consequently there is a drought. Bucket showers become tedious exercises in agility when you're bathing with a cup full of water. When things get really bad we have been getting water from the Orock house, so toilets have been getting flushed and that (i'll spare you the details)
I think it may be just Buea that is experiencing this lack of precipitation because we watched an amazing thunderstorm far away over Douala last night. It was pretty awesome, the sky seems so big in Africa, you can see for miles. The whole sky was popping white with brilliant intensity and burning flashes of electricity but it was so high and so far away we didn't even hear the noise of the bolts tearing apart the sky. We just sat back and enjoyed the show.
It's been pretty hot here recently and it hasn't rained for close to a week so consequently there is a drought. Bucket showers become tedious exercises in agility when you're bathing with a cup full of water. When things get really bad we have been getting water from the Orock house, so toilets have been getting flushed and that (i'll spare you the details)
I think it may be just Buea that is experiencing this lack of precipitation because we watched an amazing thunderstorm far away over Douala last night. It was pretty awesome, the sky seems so big in Africa, you can see for miles. The whole sky was popping white with brilliant intensity and burning flashes of electricity but it was so high and so far away we didn't even hear the noise of the bolts tearing apart the sky. We just sat back and enjoyed the show.
Friday 9 May 2008
Kribi in the rain
So after another delicious breakfast of real toast and butter and coffee and milk, we said our thankyou's to Auntie Planey and the family for their generous hospitality, and once it again it was off into the scorching sun for another day off travelling. We were heading back to Buea via Kribi, which is a popular coastal destination in the south province. The sun was shining and i was really up for it, but i knew that anything can happen on a bus journey in Cameroon.
Like a woman vomits on the bus, you see your first dead body by the roadside (both of which happened on the way to Yaounde) or you're driving along and the door falls off, and like now a tomato falls on your head when they're putting the luggage on top of the bus. Anything can happen.
We waited some time for the bus to fill up and eventually we were off. About an hour in the grey monochromatic face of a thundercloud started pouring rain on us. Nice day for the beach. I was reading at one point when i felt my arm getting wet, i found to my pleasure the window was leaking, after corking the flow of precipitation i sat back and waited for something else to happen but the next eventful thing i seen was a sign saying 'Bienvenue a Kribi'.
As i got off the bus i struck my bonce quite sharply on the door and consequently barked at the poor sap trying to give me a taxi. It was raining heavily, i was hungry and my bonce and bum hurt equally. We headed to a nice restaurant that Aloys knew. It had a pool table and it couldn't have been more beach-front without being under water. We ordered the fish and i challenged Aloys to a game of pool. I almost got a splinter when getting the balls out of the table and the cues didn't have any tips (i'm not giving excuses for my defeat) We played our game which could be called anything but a classic, and i got one free lesson in pool. Our fish arrived and it was lovely eating it while taking in the amazing view of the Atlantic.
We were alreday behind schedule so it was off to Buea via Douala, i could feel my bed getting nearer. Another packed bus to Douala where my bum only enjoyed half a seat, it got so bad that i had to stand up most of the way. We rolled into Douala at night and we were delayed further because no one was there to take our bags from the top of the bus. So good old Ernest just hopped up and passed them down to me. I love Cameroon. We got a taxi and it was destined to be the last vehicle between me and bed.
Good night.
Like a woman vomits on the bus, you see your first dead body by the roadside (both of which happened on the way to Yaounde) or you're driving along and the door falls off, and like now a tomato falls on your head when they're putting the luggage on top of the bus. Anything can happen.
We waited some time for the bus to fill up and eventually we were off. About an hour in the grey monochromatic face of a thundercloud started pouring rain on us. Nice day for the beach. I was reading at one point when i felt my arm getting wet, i found to my pleasure the window was leaking, after corking the flow of precipitation i sat back and waited for something else to happen but the next eventful thing i seen was a sign saying 'Bienvenue a Kribi'.
As i got off the bus i struck my bonce quite sharply on the door and consequently barked at the poor sap trying to give me a taxi. It was raining heavily, i was hungry and my bonce and bum hurt equally. We headed to a nice restaurant that Aloys knew. It had a pool table and it couldn't have been more beach-front without being under water. We ordered the fish and i challenged Aloys to a game of pool. I almost got a splinter when getting the balls out of the table and the cues didn't have any tips (i'm not giving excuses for my defeat) We played our game which could be called anything but a classic, and i got one free lesson in pool. Our fish arrived and it was lovely eating it while taking in the amazing view of the Atlantic.
We were alreday behind schedule so it was off to Buea via Douala, i could feel my bed getting nearer. Another packed bus to Douala where my bum only enjoyed half a seat, it got so bad that i had to stand up most of the way. We rolled into Douala at night and we were delayed further because no one was there to take our bags from the top of the bus. So good old Ernest just hopped up and passed them down to me. I love Cameroon. We got a taxi and it was destined to be the last vehicle between me and bed.
Good night.
Thursday 8 May 2008
Yaoundé and nights
We rolled into Yaoundé and met a stubborn traffic jam that refused to budge for no car; it was made all the more frustrating because we were 20 yards from the bus station. We waited and sweated. Car horns and the French language were in my ears and crazy-faced men demanded I take their taxi to wherever I wanted to go.
The city redeemed itself once we got on the open road, a road that curves and wriggles through modern buildings and shacks, rolling hills that evoked the sensation of being on a rollercoaster. It had a lovely, charming atmosphere as trees lined the streets and the roads seemed to have a semblance of order (how wrong first appearances can be.)
We arrived at Aloys uncle’s house and had a beer, which is up there with one of the best beers of my life; it fell down my parched throat as rain pelted the roof of our rather sumptuous temporary new abode. I was happy to be in Yaoundé. Ernest came over with his two wee girls and we headed out to his mothers bar and had a few more deserved drinks whilst trying to keep the girls entertained with a bit of table football with a bottle-top. We left to walk back to town up quite a muddy path and I continued to entertain the girls by falling on my bum. Did I mention I was happy to be in Yaoundé?
I was until a silly, ugly pug of a man wearing a red nipple hat stopped our happy gang and demanded to see our passports. His mouth was flapping French at me and I did my best to keep up, but the long and short of it was he wasn’t happy with neither Meredith’s I.D nor mine. The whole group were francophone who didn’t speak English, Aloys and Ernest are deaf but do speak French, but I didn’t think that this guy had the patience nor the intelligence to communicate through writing, Meredith can say ‘bonjour’ and ‘oui’, neither of which applied to this annoying exchange, and I am no French poet. So after an hour it all got pretty heated until another cop showed up and sent us on our way. It was pretty stressful and Meredith and I managed to really piss each other off. I was no longer happy to be in Yaoundé.
After sorting out our earlier troubles and with new tasks at hand we quickly forgot about yer man on the bribe tip, it was a new day and it was to business. After a delicious breakfast of croissants and coffee with real milk, we set of for our first of many taxis around the city to the ministry of social affairs, it was raining pretty hard and unfortunately we couldn’t see the minister today but Aloys managed to get a booking for tomorrow.
We set off in another taxi and traversed roads that made Piccadilly Circus seem like a gentle left turn. The imaginary break pedal beneath my foot took a hammering.We drove through what i thought was a river but it was just a massive flood in the middle of the city We arrived at the American embassy for Cameroon and I had to stop Meredith singing her national anthem. You know how patriotic these Americans get. After she had called ahead and been told that she could just pop in at any time I assumed it would be a nip and tuck past the old security guards. But no we were denied entry and Meredith would have to wait to get back onto American soil.
Another taxi, another death ride to the Peace Corps headquarters, and again more static from the security guards. They thought we were fluent in French or something and refused to speak a word of English until eventually one wee guy piped up and said in broken English that Meredith being the only American should go in. She was a bit flustered as it was Aloys who wanted to go in and see about getting a Peace Corps volunteer for the deaf school. She explained all this to the secretary and passes were issued and we were granted entry into fort knox. The meeting was very successful and by sheer coincidence a Peace Corps volunteer that Aloys had been in e-mail contact with just happened to be in the building. So hopefully in the future B.S.D will get some assistance from Peace Corps. Then we went for pizza, yes we had pizza, pizza with ham and cheese, from an oven. It was pizza and it was good.
TAXI!! The deaf school please, and can you drive like there is a bomb on board?
We arrived at the first deaf school in Cameroon and we were greeted warmly. We were given a tour and I was very impressed. It was huge and it had a positive atmosphere. So then it was another taxi driver who drove like he had a death wish and a pair of cement boots on for a beer then home for the sleep of a drunken zombie.
The next morning another splendid continental breakfast was presented to us, I cannot describe the quality of grub we received at Auntie Planeys house so I’m not going to. I was chatting to her about the school she built and I asked her if she has any foreign volunteers? She had one Danish guy. Is his name Chris? Yes. It was the very same Chris ho came to Buea with the girls and came to the jungle with us. A crazy coincidence that was hard to believe, we were going for a tour of her two schools today so I would meet him later. The schools were amazing and the children polite and attentive, they were absolutely transfixed by Meredith signing to Aloys and Ernest; it was very sweet, they hadn’t seen anything like it and it certainly did no harm in highlighting the deaf community in Cameroon. I arranged to meet Chris later for a beer but now it was back to business.
TAXI!! Your engine is on fire, can you get us there before it explodes?
We arrived at the Air France building so Meredith could check on her ticket. I was about to buy a cool book on Cameroon but Aloys assured me he was ripping me off (white man tax)
TAXI!! I wish to die in a taxi, will you be my executioner?
We visited Ernest’s sister at her work then we walked to the ministry to meet the minister for the meeting. I stayed out of this one as Aloys, Ernest and Meredith were wearing their Sunday best and I looked like a weary Scot with the complexion of a cooked lobster. I walked through Yaoundé solo like I knew what I was doing and headed to the high court.
Ines had told me there was a specific court that dealt solely in cases of black magic; the court of mysticism if you will. I don’t know about you readers but that sounds pretty fascinating to me. I got there and was delighted to see lawyers wearing the same ridiculous white frilly wigs they wear back home. I inquired in my best franglais about the court but to my disappointment I was told there were no cases today. I texted Ernest but their meeting was taking a long time to start as the whole city closes down for ‘lunch’ from 12 till 3.30PM, the minister included. I strolled along like I knew where I was going and found a supermarket with a bakery that sold fresh pizza, it wasn’t a patch on yesterday but it was pizza, and it was good. I bumbled along craning my neck and taking in the great city whilst munching on my Italian delicacy. It really was a beautiful place. The architecture was quite 70’s with some new structures showing their steely glass faces. The architects weren’t afraid to use vibrant colours in their buildings too, greens, reds yellows; it was very pleasing to the eyeball.
As I sat under a line of trees to shade my epidermis I looked out at the hills and shacks and thought to myself I will definitely return to Yaoundé, but next time I will be armed with the fluent French on my tongue. It’s cool, you should go. I met up with others and the meeting had gone well with some promising news for B.S.D. I think a beer is in order, don’t you?
TAXI!!
The city redeemed itself once we got on the open road, a road that curves and wriggles through modern buildings and shacks, rolling hills that evoked the sensation of being on a rollercoaster. It had a lovely, charming atmosphere as trees lined the streets and the roads seemed to have a semblance of order (how wrong first appearances can be.)
We arrived at Aloys uncle’s house and had a beer, which is up there with one of the best beers of my life; it fell down my parched throat as rain pelted the roof of our rather sumptuous temporary new abode. I was happy to be in Yaoundé. Ernest came over with his two wee girls and we headed out to his mothers bar and had a few more deserved drinks whilst trying to keep the girls entertained with a bit of table football with a bottle-top. We left to walk back to town up quite a muddy path and I continued to entertain the girls by falling on my bum. Did I mention I was happy to be in Yaoundé?
I was until a silly, ugly pug of a man wearing a red nipple hat stopped our happy gang and demanded to see our passports. His mouth was flapping French at me and I did my best to keep up, but the long and short of it was he wasn’t happy with neither Meredith’s I.D nor mine. The whole group were francophone who didn’t speak English, Aloys and Ernest are deaf but do speak French, but I didn’t think that this guy had the patience nor the intelligence to communicate through writing, Meredith can say ‘bonjour’ and ‘oui’, neither of which applied to this annoying exchange, and I am no French poet. So after an hour it all got pretty heated until another cop showed up and sent us on our way. It was pretty stressful and Meredith and I managed to really piss each other off. I was no longer happy to be in Yaoundé.
After sorting out our earlier troubles and with new tasks at hand we quickly forgot about yer man on the bribe tip, it was a new day and it was to business. After a delicious breakfast of croissants and coffee with real milk, we set of for our first of many taxis around the city to the ministry of social affairs, it was raining pretty hard and unfortunately we couldn’t see the minister today but Aloys managed to get a booking for tomorrow.
We set off in another taxi and traversed roads that made Piccadilly Circus seem like a gentle left turn. The imaginary break pedal beneath my foot took a hammering.We drove through what i thought was a river but it was just a massive flood in the middle of the city We arrived at the American embassy for Cameroon and I had to stop Meredith singing her national anthem. You know how patriotic these Americans get. After she had called ahead and been told that she could just pop in at any time I assumed it would be a nip and tuck past the old security guards. But no we were denied entry and Meredith would have to wait to get back onto American soil.
Another taxi, another death ride to the Peace Corps headquarters, and again more static from the security guards. They thought we were fluent in French or something and refused to speak a word of English until eventually one wee guy piped up and said in broken English that Meredith being the only American should go in. She was a bit flustered as it was Aloys who wanted to go in and see about getting a Peace Corps volunteer for the deaf school. She explained all this to the secretary and passes were issued and we were granted entry into fort knox. The meeting was very successful and by sheer coincidence a Peace Corps volunteer that Aloys had been in e-mail contact with just happened to be in the building. So hopefully in the future B.S.D will get some assistance from Peace Corps. Then we went for pizza, yes we had pizza, pizza with ham and cheese, from an oven. It was pizza and it was good.
TAXI!! The deaf school please, and can you drive like there is a bomb on board?
We arrived at the first deaf school in Cameroon and we were greeted warmly. We were given a tour and I was very impressed. It was huge and it had a positive atmosphere. So then it was another taxi driver who drove like he had a death wish and a pair of cement boots on for a beer then home for the sleep of a drunken zombie.
The next morning another splendid continental breakfast was presented to us, I cannot describe the quality of grub we received at Auntie Planeys house so I’m not going to. I was chatting to her about the school she built and I asked her if she has any foreign volunteers? She had one Danish guy. Is his name Chris? Yes. It was the very same Chris ho came to Buea with the girls and came to the jungle with us. A crazy coincidence that was hard to believe, we were going for a tour of her two schools today so I would meet him later. The schools were amazing and the children polite and attentive, they were absolutely transfixed by Meredith signing to Aloys and Ernest; it was very sweet, they hadn’t seen anything like it and it certainly did no harm in highlighting the deaf community in Cameroon. I arranged to meet Chris later for a beer but now it was back to business.
TAXI!! Your engine is on fire, can you get us there before it explodes?
We arrived at the Air France building so Meredith could check on her ticket. I was about to buy a cool book on Cameroon but Aloys assured me he was ripping me off (white man tax)
TAXI!! I wish to die in a taxi, will you be my executioner?
We visited Ernest’s sister at her work then we walked to the ministry to meet the minister for the meeting. I stayed out of this one as Aloys, Ernest and Meredith were wearing their Sunday best and I looked like a weary Scot with the complexion of a cooked lobster. I walked through Yaoundé solo like I knew what I was doing and headed to the high court.
Ines had told me there was a specific court that dealt solely in cases of black magic; the court of mysticism if you will. I don’t know about you readers but that sounds pretty fascinating to me. I got there and was delighted to see lawyers wearing the same ridiculous white frilly wigs they wear back home. I inquired in my best franglais about the court but to my disappointment I was told there were no cases today. I texted Ernest but their meeting was taking a long time to start as the whole city closes down for ‘lunch’ from 12 till 3.30PM, the minister included. I strolled along like I knew where I was going and found a supermarket with a bakery that sold fresh pizza, it wasn’t a patch on yesterday but it was pizza, and it was good. I bumbled along craning my neck and taking in the great city whilst munching on my Italian delicacy. It really was a beautiful place. The architecture was quite 70’s with some new structures showing their steely glass faces. The architects weren’t afraid to use vibrant colours in their buildings too, greens, reds yellows; it was very pleasing to the eyeball.
As I sat under a line of trees to shade my epidermis I looked out at the hills and shacks and thought to myself I will definitely return to Yaoundé, but next time I will be armed with the fluent French on my tongue. It’s cool, you should go. I met up with others and the meeting had gone well with some promising news for B.S.D. I think a beer is in order, don’t you?
TAXI!!
Monday 5 May 2008
Bon voyage Meredith
Well Meredith jetted off for the U.S of A via France last night, her time in Cameroon has come to an end. We had a conversation a while ago about how bittersweet it was to be leaving, happy to see family and friends, but sad to be leaving great friends behind. I think she made up her mind that one day she'll return to Cameroon.
I feel the same way. Whenever i speak to my Dad on the phone he always asks me "is your heart still in Cameroon?" Yes it is. You could say that Meredith and I have caught the Cameroon bug, and i don't just mean malaria.
We had a wee party for her departure at small Buea by night on Saturday. Two tables were required for the throng of thirsty well-wishers. Last night we all drove to Doulala to have some pizza (good) and took her to her scheduled destination where the big metal bird awaited to fly away from this fascinating place.
Good Bye Meredith x
I feel the same way. Whenever i speak to my Dad on the phone he always asks me "is your heart still in Cameroon?" Yes it is. You could say that Meredith and I have caught the Cameroon bug, and i don't just mean malaria.
We had a wee party for her departure at small Buea by night on Saturday. Two tables were required for the throng of thirsty well-wishers. Last night we all drove to Doulala to have some pizza (good) and took her to her scheduled destination where the big metal bird awaited to fly away from this fascinating place.
Good Bye Meredith x
Saturday 3 May 2008
Waiting for it to send
There are even more new people, they are Zara from the U.S.A who was actually born in Perth, Scotland and Valerie from Canada. Valerie is here to help with the school and Zara is leaving for Mamfe in a few weeks when the rest of her American team arrive to help with out-reach programmes UAC are working on there.
Sofie, Berit and I invited them for a drink last night but they were properly tired as they hadn't really slept in two days. It's cool having new people and it's nice to not live alone anymore. Great.
I'm feeling a lot better but i do have a bit of a dicky stomach after taking so many pills, the candy doctors cure? sort it out with more pills. mmmm. I'm going to start tomorrow though as Meredith's leaving party is today and i think it would be both irresponsible and rude not to indulge in a wee tipple. So from tomorrow no beer for 10 days!!!!
I didn't really plan to write a blog today but i'm sitting in the cyber trying to send a UAC newsletter to David at Africa Trust, i've waited about 20 minutes so far and i'm going to have to buy more net time i think. The internet here is a pain in the bum, if you go in the morning it's sometimes OK but in the afternoon it's about as fast as morse code.
Byes
Sofie, Berit and I invited them for a drink last night but they were properly tired as they hadn't really slept in two days. It's cool having new people and it's nice to not live alone anymore. Great.
I'm feeling a lot better but i do have a bit of a dicky stomach after taking so many pills, the candy doctors cure? sort it out with more pills. mmmm. I'm going to start tomorrow though as Meredith's leaving party is today and i think it would be both irresponsible and rude not to indulge in a wee tipple. So from tomorrow no beer for 10 days!!!!
I didn't really plan to write a blog today but i'm sitting in the cyber trying to send a UAC newsletter to David at Africa Trust, i've waited about 20 minutes so far and i'm going to have to buy more net time i think. The internet here is a pain in the bum, if you go in the morning it's sometimes OK but in the afternoon it's about as fast as morse code.
Byes
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