Monday, January 7, 2008

Christmas and New Year in Cameroon





These holidays were truly… special. As for myself I can say I did have a white Christmas! However in order to grasp the entire Christmas spirit the story must start on Friday the 21st of December.

A Pre-Christmas Story
It was the last working day before Christmas. Of course half of the office called in sick, a terrible Christmas flu ad to be going around, since everyone here is so hard working and would not skip work on purpose to have a longer weekend! Well as the day was ending I started to pack my bag early in order to be out the door at 6:30 pm and I could meet up with Richard, as it was his last day in Cameroon, before he took his flight back home. Even Kasia jumped into a sardine ride from Buea to catch are British friend and say goodbye. Well, 6:30 I was out the door and waiting for Richards call. As we finally got a hold of each other he was stuck somewhere in Douala in traffic, thus I advised him to go straight to the airport and well we would probably meet somewhere else in this world again. As Kasia arrived, filled with disappointment, we head of to catch some food and beers to start our holiday spirit. Since we were up for a change we did not go to have our world famous brochette, no this time we turned left and looked for something new. We found a little stand in a corner where Kasia ordered Plat Avocad and I an omelet sandwich. Well let me tell you these dishes were amazingly good, but you do not want to know how they were prepared. Since we were already trying out new things, we went to bar not known to us before called Barcelona. Nothing special, however, something truly special occurred there. Of course the tables were filled with people, mostly men crying out la blanche je t’aime je t’aime. But there was a small table across the road which belonged to Barcelona as well at which we sat down. No harassment, no marriage proposals and actually cold beer!
We had a toast on Richard who was most probably flying over Mount Cameroon at the moment and headed back home as we had an early start planned the next morning.
Around 12 pm at night my phone starts ringing. Since calls around that time are mainly calls from stalkers who wish to marry you I ignored it and went back to sleep. A couple of minutes later Kasia’s phone started ringing, which she did pick up. It was no stalker; it was Richard at the airport, telling us that he had missed his flight!
To get to the point this is the story: The traffic was not the reason, as he made it to the check in on time. He was directed to a gate at which he was waiting. The plane was said to have a delay, thus no extra worries were needed. After waiting for a while, he decides to ask the staff about the plane and merry Christmas, he was told he was waiting at the wrong gate and the plane left without him! Douala Airport has six gates, the staff members told him to go to the wrong gate, there were no signs, and no announcements. It seemed like a bad joke!
Luckily the next morning we went to the SwissAir office and without much arguing, even though I was well prepared for some, we were able to change the ticket to Sunday without further charges. Thus shortly after Richard took off to Yaounde as his flight no left from there and Kasia and I got ready to start are Christmas holiday.

Motos and squished tushies
The taxi ride from my place to R-Point where you take the cars to Buea or Limbe normally takes at most 10 min. Since traffic here does not know any rules and during holidays chaos seems more than normal we were stuck in the taxi for almost an hour. Cars facing all directions trying in all directions! It was then that we had the fear that we would never arrive to Buea in order to get our hair nicely braided, thus we decided to take a moto to Buea instead. At R-Point, we searched for a fairly stable looking moto with a driver who gave us a fair price. It did not last to long, so of we went… the driver, me in the middle, Kasia in the back. As we were leaving Douala, the driver asks us how the roads to Buea were as he had never driven there before! Furthermore, he asked us how many police controls there were on the way… clearly hinting that he had no papers or license :) The adventure was about to begin! Due to our various sardine rides before, we were quite confident about the way, concerning the police controls it was the driver’s responsibility to get through them as we had all our papers. The ride was fun. Various things were flying against our faces, especially nice was the truck in front of us carrying sand and little stones which kept on falling on us.
After 30 minutes both of my feet fell asleep which was making it quite difficult to hold the balance and I was fighting not to loose my flip flops. Kasia on the other hand had to worry about each little bump as she was threatened to fall of the bike after any weird move. Almost at Buea, we decided to change positions in order for me to get life back into my feet and Kasia to get rid of her back pain. Woohhooo as I was sitting on the back, I was amazed of what she went through. If you sit in the middle you sit on the seat and are pretty safe due to the front and back squishing. Nevertheless, if you sit at the back, you sit on some metal parts with have your behind sticking out. It was quite a sight! Since I did not feel as confident on the back as Kasia did I held on to her like a baby Koala on the moms back. After 2 hours we arrived safe and sound!
After a short break at Kasia’s place we went to get our hair braided around 3pm. Unfortunately no green was found, thus green and red braids were not possible. Kasia chose a combination of brown colors, and I went for red and black. At 8pm we were finally finished! Since I was not allowed to stand up during the hair creation, my butt was seriously numb and flat.
To end the day in a traditional Buean way we went to have dinner chez Oliver. The best roasted fish you will ever taste!

Madison Park
Sunday morning we woke up early to catch a bus to Limbe. As we were sitting in the bus, Kasia could not believe that we were actually sitting without being squished and not having to wait and hour or two for the bus to get filled. Here in Cam you pay per seat, thus what happens is that children do not get a seat and have to stand in very awkward positions during the entire ride, while the parents sit. This was the case of a father with his two sons next to us. A good person as I am :) I offered to take one of the children on my lap so they could all sit. I am not joking, I guess it was the first time someone has ever offered something like that, because at first they couldn’t believe it and you should have seen that kids face, he was terrified of being able to sit. I do not think I have ever seen a kid so stiff on someone’s lap.
Once at Buea, of course we were not spared the long discussion with various taxi drivers to take us to Batouke, a small village near Limbe, where Madison Park was based. But with strong words and will you do receive what you want. We were relieved when we saw the sign Madison Park on the side of the road. We got dropped off and after asking some nice ladies if this was the correct way we walked down towards the beach. This short walk turned out to be more of a hike down hill. With flip flops quite a challenge! But at last we arrived. It is a great place! Better than any hotel in Limbe. For children it has a huge playground, with all sorts of sport activities, for adults it is a place for pure relaxation. You sleep in tents right next to the beach, you wake up to the sound of the waves, you can relax and read a book in a hammock, you can take walks on the beautiful black sandy beach and boogie-board or surf on the waves. An additional plus to this place is Roland. He is a very nice Cameroonian who works and practically lives at Madison Park. He is very helpful, friendly and nice to talk to. Funny was that I read about this place on a blog of an American Peace Corp member, Bill, who works in Buea and spends most of his weekends at Madison Park. Apparently, Bill is not the only American Peace Corp who likes to come and relax there. During the day more and more kept on showing up. Some of them were there for one day others were going to spend Christmas there just like us. I must say, they were all very enjoyable people, with interesting backgrounds and Cam stories.
After a day of boogie boarding we started to get hungry and decided to go to our standard place, down beach, to have some shrimp and calamari. I guess the first time was either an illusion or too perfect to ever happen again, thus this time the food there was a catastrophe. The orders were completely wrong, shrimps were burned and of course they tried to overcharge us. As we were leaving and very disappointed about the bad service, a lady came running after us on the street. She was holding Kasia’s bag which she had forgotten on her chair. Thank god! There was all her money, her camera and mp3 player, basically all the valuables you have here in Cam. We were so amazed that everything was still there. Someone in Europe would have kept the bag and not bothered to come and search for us. This gave us the hope back for a great Christmas. The highlight of the evening was the pitch dark hike down to Madison Park. However we made it alive and with no major falls and breaking necks!

Christmas Eve
Monday morning we were woken up by an Opera German version of “O Tannenbaum” over the park speakers. It caused some confusion at first, because if you get out of that tent, you see the ocean, the black sand, palm trees and feel the heat it does not quite feel like Christmas at all.
Christmas started with some swimming, fighting with the braids and the sea, and reading in the hammock. During this moment of relaxation Kasia and I started to plan our Christmas dinner. To keep it near our traditional Christmas dinner we decided to buy a chicken and roast it. Problem here is though, you can only buy living chicken, which met killing it, plugging the feathers and making it look not like an animal before eating it yourself. Quite a task for to spoiled western girls like us! I guess it was the thought of killing the chicken and the laziness of climbing up that hill which stopped us from buying the chicken. Well eventually we had to eat; therefore we followed the tip of the Americans and went to a place called the hot spot for a traditional Christmas Dinner. What did we order? Cheeseburgers and fries :) You might mock us now, but believe me a cheeseburger is luxury here in Cam, and I must say it was one of the most delicious cheeseburgers I have eaten in my life! This restaurant was definitely in a hot spot. It was in the botanical gardens of Limbe write at the cliffs. There you had a beautiful view down at the beach, if only it were not dark or if only there were lights!
Back at Madison Park, the Peace Corps joined by one British tourist were all gathered around a table drinking palm wine. Not being used to staying up late in Cam I wanted to join the group, nevertheless I preferred to have some wine on the hammock and dream away.

A White Christmas
Since the majority was American, we followed the tradition of actually celebrating Christmas the 25th. Thus after waking up we decided to go dinner shopping for the big event at night. I was in charge of the plantains! Not only did I prepare them in the Cameroonian way, I also prepared them the South American way as my mum has showed me and they truly were a hit! We even managed to get our chicken :) The guys from Madison Park were kind enough to do the dirty work and handed us over a dead chicken, still with all the body parts, but at least dead! What made us even luckier was the fact of Marcel’s presence. He was a designated cook and took the task to prepare the chicken, so even less dirty work for us. While we were cooking and preparing, which took the entire morning and afternoon, Madison Pak came alive as it filled up with families. Most of them were friends and family of the owners of Madison Park which were there to celebrate Christmas as well. You somehow got that Christmas feeling of a full house as in the movie “Home alone”.
Dinner was ready! We all sat down around the table and enjoyed our bbq grilled chicken, with various side dishes and palm wine. It was then that I looked around the table and realized… this truly is a white Christmas in Cameroon, who would have thought! The dinner was topped at the end with Marcel’s banana flambĂ©.
In order to burn some calories, Katie, an American Peace Corp, and I decided to do a car race. See pictures for further details! It was great fun!
In order to get some Cameroonian spirit we ended the evening with some traditional Dancing with the kids of the landlord. Oh no, that was not the end, we ended Christmas sitting around a great camp fire right next to the beach!

Theme Song for Christmas

Leeeeee poisssson le poissson
Hihihi Hohoho

(let’s see who knows where this son gis from !)


New Years with Shakira
For New Years Aiesec was going to prepare a party, which we were supposed to attend to. Well, let us say everyone believed a party would be organized, however no one was organizing it until I told them to do so. Nevertheless, I also told them I will not attend it, as I had other plans.
Well, the Buean Interns Kasia, Robert and Sebas, also from University Maastricht, came to Douala and stayed at my place for a couple of days. Following the great Christmas dinner tradition, we wanted to create one for new years as well. In the freezer I still had one kilo of shrimp from my housewarming party, thus it was now or never. We spiced these over night in chili and garlic. Since Sebas is a vegetarian a large variety of vegetables was offered as well. However, those who know me know that vegetables have no added value in a dinner for me! Instead of palm wine we had rum and homemade Whiskey. It was a true delight!
The phones kept on ringing asking for us at the Aiesec Party, however we were enjoying our little get together very much, thus there was no hurry from our side. This so called New Year’s party also had a catch. Well all of Aiesec Cam was invited; it was organized by the Aiesec Presidency in Douala, however without our consent the interns were chosen as sponsors. This meant that everyone was able to come eat and drink, but we had to pay. Well, you can imagine that this great organization did not really work out. I already told them in advance that if I come I would not pay as I would not stay long and not eat or drink there.
Well 11:30 we decided to get going in order to show our faces at the MC house for New Years. We had a very nice taxi driver, however who confused his taxi for a turtle. Well, other days I would have stressed him. Today I actually enjoyed the slow ride through Douala. Nevertheless, we made it on time. The MC house was filled with people we did not really know, but well everyone seemed to be having some fun. The clock hit 12 and we interns started hugging and wishing happy New Year to each other. Strangely the Aiesecers did not really react. 10 minutes later we knew why! That is when the started their countdown. Unbelievable! Even 2008 started late in Cameroon!
Well of course then we were not spared from the random hugging and kissing of sweaty, drunk strangers. Kasia and I quickly escaped and went outdoors in order to get some air. I had some conversations with some fellow Aiesecers and when I turned back to Kasia I found here in a deep discussion with the head Aiesec Representative of Yaounde. A very strange character! Well as you might have guessed the topic was payment. I want to emphasize here, that we have been there for 15 minutes, he is holding a beer and as can be seen had various before, and Kasia was empty handed. Still feeling a little bit of rage which fills up each week in Cameroon, I was more than happy to join into the discussion and get some anger out. In a polite manner, I told him that interns are not there in order to support the drinking behavior of Cameroonian Aiesecers and that if they want to give a party they should pay for it themselves. Furthermore, I reminded him of my housewarming party which cost me 20 times more then what they spent and I never asked anyone for a cent. I was waiting for a rebottle, but nothing came. Thus discussion was finished, we did not pay, and to be fair left to have our beer somewhere else. We found a little place around the corner with loud Cameroonian Music and cold beer. People were sitting outside and dancing on the street. This was the atmosphere I was looking for. Due to some slight rain, very weird at this season, we stood right next to the speakers under a little tin roof. The lady who brought us our drinks was so happy that we were spending New Years at her place that suddenly there was a drastic change of music. We were actually listening to Shakira! Dancing next to the speakers, watching the rain, enjoying the beer and watching all the happy Cameroonians dancing around, made me see that this was a fantastic start into 2008. With big smiles on our faces we went back to the MC house to pick up our fellow interns and head back home.

Oh something I have to add! First day at work in 2008. I do not know if I ever told you about our office building. Apparently it is one of the fanciest skyscrapers in Douala. It has 12 floors and four elevators of which one only works at the time. Remember those rides in amusement parks where you are in an elevator which suddenly stops and shoots up in the air and drops down unexpected, well I guess these elevators were the inspiration for those rides. I always made jokes when I heard people knocking inside the elevator not being able to get out, well today first working day in 2008 I was one of those knocking inside the elevator, stuck with another 10 people with the most lovely perfumes.
To continue the day, I had to go and perform an inventory check at a bank in the morning. My appointment was at 8:30. Having adapted to Cameroonian working times, I arrived at 9. Basically, I was sitting on a couch playing forgotten warrior on my cell phone for 3 hours until the lady holding the key to the safe I needed to check arrived. Actually this blog entry was written by hand during those waiting hours after my forgotten warrior would not make the one jump to the hill and kept on dying.

P.S. Due to current internet problems, can not really call them current anymore, pictures will follow!

Monday, December 17, 2007

Pictures from my trip to Bakou

One of the great wild life animals in Cameroon...




This is the chief's house from one of the neighboring towns. You always recognize them by the pointy roofs.

Traditional dancing around men playing drums.

The fog and the view...
Kasia and I blending in...


One of the anonymous chicken...



The "flat" tire...
Me back at home inspired by the culture!



Tuesday, December 11, 2007

A weekend of Cameroonian Culture

This weekend I was invited by a Cameroonian friend to accompany him to his village in the West of Cameroon. If I am not mistaken it is called Bakou, however with all the villages and their very very similar names that we passed on our 3 to 4 hour drive I might be referring to one of the neighbouring villages. Nevertheless, let us believe it truly is called Bakou. This weekend was supposed to be special as we were to attend a funeral, with traditional dances, masks and rituals. I was bragging to my fellow white friends that I will experience the African culture as we know it from documentaries and what until know I have not really seen in Douala, thus I convinced Kasia to join me to this exciting trip. Another, factor which seemed very appealing to her was that I told her that my friend will pick us up with his car and drive us there, which meant no bus or taxi drive where one feels like a sardine in a can heated up in the microwave accompanied by some bizarre side dish with several peculiar smells. As you can already guess, wrong, very wrong thought!
Well it started out well, the ride just made us wake up more or less two hours early; however this was more or less my fault, as by now I should know better. If a meeting is at 8:30 a.m. you can be sure that by 8:30 the person will slowly be brushing his teeth. If someone says “I am coming in five minutes” it means “I will see you sometime today maybe tomorrow, if at all.” However, my German punctuality is hard to turn off, thus I have learned to wait! Nevertheless, our ride started very luxurious. We were only 5 people in a 20 year old Mercedes. At least the excuse for being late was very reasonable, as the car had just been repainted. So finally we hit the road around 11. On our way out of Douala, which means one traffic jam after the other, half a meter deep holes making cars follow a slalom race or just giving you the feeling of sitting on a bouncy ball, our friend decided, well why not take someone else along, the car perfectly fits 4 adults on the back seat. Well WHY NOT! Thus our feeling of comfort was reduced drastically and the sardine ride had just begun. The scenery though was very beautiful. We passed one plantain field after the other, mountains of palm tree forests, huge bull caravans (these men actually walk 300 km with their cattle!!!), people selling huge forest rats and fish, many small villages all looking and named pretty much the same and many bridges which, as we were told of course after we passed it, were about to collapse. There was one part of the road which was completely devastated. There was an earth slide which had destroyed the surprisingly well maintained auto route and as we were told had also taken a small cottage with itself killing the mother of the family living there. This had happened several years ago, but of course it has not been fixed yet. But why should a road be fixed if you can perfectly drive over the actual hill and this with a 20 year old Mercedes! We were fortunate that the dry season has somewhat started, because otherwise we would probably still be stuck in the mud today. Another peculiar thing we noticed during the ride, were signs showing a black figure/person every couple of km. After philosophizing what they could mean we were told that these are awareness signs that people have died due to car accidents there. Of course that makes you feel so much better in the sardine car with no seatbelts, racing through mud and holes, and starting to accelerate and surpass the trucks in front every time there was a curve or a hill.
Nevertheless, the last 12 km were very special. There was no road, thus we were driving up a steep hill where you could not recognize anything 2 meters away from you due to the amazing red dust. Everything was red. It seemed as being in an art piece entirely painted fully in Red. If it wouldn’t have been for my back and neck pain increasing by every minute, I would have not minded driving around longer through the dust. Well once the dust was gone we were finally there. As we entered the village we were told by our friend that he is very famous in town and that he is even more popular and loved then the chief himself. One thing you must know about Cameroonians, is that they always feel the urge to show you how special they are and pose themselves in the spotlight. This might indeed impress some people, however on me it has the opposite effect, I am sure Kasia would agree. So our so called friend was immediately reduced to just acquaintance. Nevertheless, excited about the cultural experience we were about to have, I ignored the fact that we were stopping the car every minute to greed everyone who crossed our way. Then once we have driven through the entire village, because walking is an alien term to Cameroonians, we started driving from house to house. This had to be done because our acquaintance had to show his multiple “papas” and “mamas” the two white friends he had. This was getting me pretty upset, but this feeling was quickly reduced the moment I was given a plate of delicious food. An interesting visit was however a little place in the village called Barcelona. It carries the name because there is a health centre which is sponsored by a medical association from Barcelona, promoting an exchange program that sends each month three doctors or medical student from Spain to the village to help out. That also explained the obscure fact why all the children where saying “buenos dias” to Kasia and me. The centre was on top of a hill surrounded by pine trees. It could have been a place in Europe, or as Kasia says also Canada. There was a nice breeze making the climate very enjoyable. We met the three Spaniards, but the orphans were more fun to hang around with. They were all following me as if I was their mother hen, because of my camera and the addiction of Cameroonians to pose for pictures. Funny however, I found a sign on top of one of the doors saying: “pollos anonimos”, which means anonymous chicken:)
After all the visiting and eating was done, we went to the house of our acquaintance’s nanny, where we were also spending the night, to rest a while before the big event in the evening. It was 6 p.m. I believe. The moment we got out of the car a storm made its way up the mountain. We quickly ran into the house and of course the electricity was out as well. This is also why I said before, the dry season has SOMEWHAT begun, not really! So there we were sitting in a dark room with nothing to do. Well, we thought the storm won’t last. WRONG AGAIN! There went our nice cultural and festive evening as we were forced to go to bed at 7, as there was only the other option to sit in the dark living room on a wooden sofa and being starred at, and I really mean starred at! Actually going to bed early was quite a treat, because since being in Cameroon I have not slept long. Of course, my plan of fully resting was impeded by my back and neck soreness caused by the sardine ride and the mattress which just wanted me to be in pain! Even though I kept on waking up since 6 in the morn, I refused to stand up and actually managed to stay in bed until 9 as I could not hold my bladder any longer.
The toilette: All of you please cherish the toilets you have!!! In the morn I went into a small cabin outside the house, which has to entries with curtains as doors. One is supposed to be the shower and the other the toilet. As I peaked inside I could not tell a difference. Both “rooms” had a hole in the floor and a bucket of water (with no hole), and the smell well let us not get too much into details. Well, as I asked before I knew which room to choose. While trying to aim and keep everything within the hole I felt a peculiar bight on my behind. I inspected the room, however could not find anything. Well as nothing really surprises me in this country anymore I assumed and still assume it to have been a big big mosquito.
This of course did not really inspire us to take showers, so we started the day with the same clothes we wore the day before and slept with. I saw that I forgot my deodorant, but then I realized at least I will fit in now and contribute to the sardine ride back home later.
After a delicious breakfast and watching some Cameroonian MTV with the entire family, we head of to the spectacle. I was a bid confused as we were told that the day starts with church, however what a surprise we arrived when it was already over. Finally, we were at the village centre and there were several women dressed in the same fabric, dancing to drum music. Enjoying the sight we were told to go to the church area as there the events highlights would take place. Well let us see… there was a big tent with chairs, and a lot of food! How traditional! Since we just had breakfast and we were disappointed of not getting our cultural feast, we decided to climb up the peak of the hill of the village. It was a 20 min hike at most; however it did make me realize that before climbing Mount Cameroon I seriously need to do some exercise! We finally reached the top and surprise surprise just as we wanted to enjoy the view thick fog blocked the sight. We managed to take a couple of pictures and started to descent.
Having had enough of disappointment and craving for a milkshake at home we pressured our ride to take us home. More or less one our later, and after taking pictures of all the children surrounding us, we hit the road back. This time with 7 people in the car. Normally the back seat looks as follows. The men comfortably sitting and the women squished sitting on only one butt cheek. We refused to be discriminated so we quickly entered the car before the guys, places our selves in a comfortable and somewhat spacious position and did not move as the guys wanted to enter. Well let them have the back pain on the way back. We succeeded. The man next to Kasia desperately tried to squeeze himself to comfort, however we stood strong. You reach a point here were sometimes you just could not care less!
I do not know the rush; however on the way back we were racing even faster through the holes then on our way there. Funny I thought how this car is so stable. WRONG AGAIN! 2 hours away from Douala we had a flat, I am sorry let me rephrase, a shredded back tire. I seriously never have seen anything like it. We look to the left nothing; we look to the right nothing! The guys take out the spare tire and start… Hmmm, from far I was observing them trying to loosen also the front tires. In order to feed my curiosity I finally went to ask and a good look answered the problem. The spare tire was at least 4 sizes too small. WHY NOT!
The plan now looked as followed. Stop a moto driver, give him the too small spare tire, him driving to the next town and exchange it for a bigger tire, come back and hope that the tire fits now. Hehe, I kind of could not really believe this would work out. Kasia and I then decided to leave the guys with their wonderful plan and take a moto to Douala. We pressured the guys by telling them I still had to work and go to the office even if it was Sunday. In real life we just really craved the milkshake! After some convincing the guys started stopping some cars to ask for rides. Then suddenly a man stops in a fairly new Mercedes, however driving in the opposite direction. One of the guys talks for him for 10 minutes and voila he turns around and we have our ride. Seriously, until now I do not know where he was driving too in the first place, as he did not mind to drive back 2 hours to Douala were he just had came from. Well maybe he was just cruising. One of the guys joined us. We could not believe it; we were sitting in a luxurious car, only two people sharing the back seat and with seat belts! We wondered there must be a trick, either he will overcharge us, but then again he seemed to have money, or ask us for some obscure favour as for example getting visas for his entire family to Europe or so. We arrived in Douala and he even drove us to the restaurant, Goodies, were they have milkshakes! Of course, first I did not want him to know where I lived and second I told him that I will be meeting someone from work there before going to the office. He stopped the car right in front of Goodies, wished us a good day and then left… just like that! No harassment, no penetrating demands for our phone numbers, he did not even ask our names! I was shocked!
5 min later Kasia and I were enjoying our well earned milkshakesJ Well what a weekend, so if I was to define this experience as a cultural weekend…
Sardine rides, red dust, visiting all families in the village, being starred at, eating a lot, rain and power-cuts, bizarre bug bites, car problems, making up stories to get ones way. The last point, however, it could also be called psychic call. As we were finally home around 6pm on Sunday, I receive a call from my Boss to come to the office as to finish the work, which was actually due to Monday eve. Well, I was not sure if she really needed me or if I was the only stupid one to pick up my phone. But well, what a better way to finish a cultural Cameroonian Weekend than going to the office and ending up there for 2 hours doing work which my boss is too lazy to do herself!

PS - Pictures will follow!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

The chicken sandwich!

Read below to understand this picture!


Limbe



The pictures were NOT taken in black and white!!!



Let me introduce to you... Robert, me, Amber, Kasia and Richard

Kribi




















and some more...







Monday, November 12, 2007

All you need to understand is the bucket and the tree…

This weekend in Kribi, Amber, Kasia and I found the answer to all our questions. We realized that one has to only think about the bucket and the tree, and you will never wonder or complain about the Cameroonian way of life again. Let me try to put this into words while I tell you about a little paradise called Kribi…
I was told that the first bus to Kribi leaves at 6:30 in the morning and that one has to be there around 5 in order to get a ticket as the buses are packed on Saturdays. Following the good advice, we dragged ourselves like zombies around 5 a.m. to the bus station. Well we were a little late as we figured “we are in Cameroon”, thus being 30 minutes late is as good as being on time! Well wrong thought, we could have been 1h30min late and that would have still been ok! Once seated in the bus, one second later we were in Kribi. I think that it took me less than a minute to fall asleep due to my lack of sleep and the odour of my neighbour.
Once in Kribi we took a cab to the catholic missionary hostel we were meant to stay in. Of course, “comme habitude” the place was very far away from town. The taxi driver dropped us and we wondered around searching for a sister, who was no where to be found. Still half asleep and very very hungry, we might as well search for some food and then return to see if anyone was there. We were also expecting Titus and co. from Yaounde and Richard, who was discovering some villages near by. We hiked a little south asking the way to a restaurant and the beach. It was not far and soon we were seated in a hotel restaurant at 10 a.m. Time is an important issue here! Apparently it was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch, thus the menu was not much of a help. We had the choice between chicken sandwich, omelette and bread. Kasia and I ordered a chicken sandwich and Amber went for the pain au chocolat with some coffee and jus. 10:45 Amber receives a plate of dry baguette, one tiny portion of jam and coffee and of course no juice. Kasia and I were sharing a big bottle of coke because that was the only drink that was cold, so we were told. I initially ordered a D’Jino, which is the equivalent to juice here, but I would consider it more like a fruit cocktail soft drink. Nevertheless, I was told Coke was my only choice. But then again, what is there better than a good cold coke in the morning on an empty stomach?
11:00 a.m. Amber had finished her meal, she did not order, we started wondering and complaining were our food was. It was then that we had an enlightenment. We are in Cameroon! Here if someone orders a chicken sandwich this it how it works: The order is written down on paper with a pencil. Then this piece of paper is taken to the kitchen were the tasks are being split. One goes into town, preferably by foot, to buy the bread (that already being an efficient thought because they could also bake it themselves and as you will hopefully soon understand that would be even more difficult), the second goes to buy some seeds to plant some tomatoes and onions, the third goes out in search of a chicken in order to… you all know what will happen to the chicken. However, the situation is a little more complicated, because this is CAMEROON, thus one has to think even a little further to understand! In order to prepare the chicken one needs certain utensils, and being in Cameroon they are all made of wood. Thus why would anyone own these utensils before an order is made? Why, if in Cameroon there is the time to just plant a tree!
We received our chicken sandwich around 12:30. It was plain, but it was good. We were happy as we finally understood there is nothing, absolutely nothing to question in Cameroon. Why would anything be at all different?
Not surprisingly the others had not shown up yet, very surprisingly though the sister was there to let us in our room. However, we stayed there 5 minutes and decided to wait for the others at the beach. Wise decision as the people from Yaounde had quite a delay, but of course why should it be any different. Richard, however, was the lucky one to experience the Cameroonian philosophy of time to the fullest extent. I just smiled when I received his message around 11 that he is waiting at a station for his bus. He was told that it could come between 9 am and 4pm. But of course, why should it be any different? One can easily spend 7 hours waiting in a bus station, if one can wait for a tree to grow. Funny, if I recall correctly, a man told Kasia and Amber that they will grow old together in Cameroon. That doesn’t seem so silly anymore!
The point is that we all arrived at some point or another, and once we were all there we were able to enjoy the beautiful scenery to its fullest extent! Time just seems to run slower in Cameroon, because even the beautiful moments seem to last forever here.
For dinner we chose a local private restaurant which Kasia discovered before. We were all starving and fresh grilled shrimp was guaranteed. It was a little table placed on rocks at the beach. The man took our order of shrimp, with fried plantain and several drinks, and we were told to wait an hour. No problem as we had the beautiful sunset to look at, and we do not really seem to have any problems to entertain each other. 5 minutes later the sun had set and it was pitch dark! Well again, we are in Cameroon, so the light of the stars will just do. 2 hours later, Amber was entertaining us with various Disney songs; however our hunger was still not dimmed. Then we thought of the tree and it was clear to us once again. Why have some shrimp ready if one can first take an order and then go out with the boat and catch some fresh shrimp? However, why even have a boat ready if there…
Then once the shrimp is caught, one needs a bucket to get the shrimp from A to B, and it was then that Amber sang a song which could not explain Cameroon any better!!!

There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, dear Liza!
There’s a hole in my bucket, dear Liza, a hole!

Then mend it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
Then mend it dear Henry, dear Henry, mend it!

With what shall I mend it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I mend it, dear Liza, with what?

With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
With straw, dear Henry, dear Henry, a straw!

But the straw is too long, dear Liza, dear Liza!
But the straw is too long, dear Liza, too long!

Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
Then cut it, dear Henry, dear Henry, cut it!

With what shall I cut it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I cut it, dear Liza, with what?

With a knife, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
With a knife, dear Henry, dear Henry, a knife!

But the knife is too dull, dear Liza, dear Liza!
But the knife is too dull, dear Liza, too dull!

Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
Then sharpen it, dear Henry, dear Henry, sharpen it!

With what shall I sharpen it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I sharpen it, dear Liza, with what?

With a stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
With a stone, dear Henry, dear Henry, a stone!

But the stone is too dry, dear Liza, dear Liza!
But the stone is too dry, dear Liza, too dry!

Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
Then wet it, dear Henry, dear Henry, wet it!

With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
With what shall I wet it, dear Liza, with what?

With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
With water, dear Henry, dear Henry, water!

But where shall I get it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
But where shall I get it, dear Liza, but where?

From the well, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
From the well, dear Henry, dear Henry, the well!

In what shall I carry it, dear Liza, dear Liza?
In what shall I carry it, dear Liza, in what?

In the bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, dear Henry!
In the bucket, dear Henry, dear Henry, the bucket!

BUT THERE’S A HOLE IN MY BUCKET, DEAR LIZA, DEAR LIZA!
THERE’S A HOLE IN MY BUCKET, DEAR LIZA, A HOLE!

Those who still do not understand must come and experience the Cameroonian way of life themselves! It is definitely worth it:)