The 1st marked a month into my Peace Corps journey. To say that time was flying would be a lie. I felt like I was actually trapped in a space time continuum through a rip in the universe, but it was a month down nonetheless. I also found a pretty sweet book at my place that the former volunteer was given entitled “101 Things to Do Before You Die”. It is highly entertaining and nearly impossible to accomplish everything, but I’ve completed around ten of the things on the list before coming to Cameroon and I feel like I might be able to scratch a few more of the list while in country.
I had a very interesting breakfast my last day in Edea. My neighbors have a little stand that they sell bread, soap, and other common items people need to make a little extra money on the side. The previous morning I had bought a baguette because I was hungry and Mr. D took forever. I didn’t put anything on the bread and walked off eating it plain. The next day I wouldn’t be so lucky. I went to buy another baguette and the mother insisted that I come in and sit and eat at the table while they watched TV. I obliged and was soon watching a Cameroonian soap opera involving witchcraft in black and white.
And if that wasn’t weird enough, the mother explained to me that today I would eat something on my baguette because she was so sad seeing me walking and having to eat the bread plain. I said that it was fine and that I actually preferred it that way. The daughter, Mika, brought out my baguette and before I could protest started slathering it with mayonnaise. Man, do they love their mayonnaise sandwiches here. Not my favorite condiment, but there was no turning back now. And then they showed me how they were dipping their mayonnaise baguettes into some chocolate drink. I said that it was fine, but they insisted I have a glass. Sure enough I was soon dipping my mayonnaise baguette into a chocolate milk type drink. As you’re gagging, you should know that it wasn’t actually as bad as I make it sound. The chocolate flavor kind of overpowered the mayonnaise taste so it might have actually been beneficial to my taste buds in the long run. After my five star breakfast Mama Becky told me that Mika would be selling food today once they prepared it to try and make a little extra cash for the family while she was on summer break. Some of the little punks from the class I tutored in at BHS would get a reality check if they had to live in Cameroon for two hours. Before leaving I brought over two quarters and a nickel I had found in my new place to give to the neighbors. They LOVED it. Mama Becky said I didn’t know you people (and you people is not directed as an insult over here like it is in the states) had coin money, I thought it was just all paper money. I felt pretty good to see their smiling faces and can’t wait to let the kids play with all the art stuff Chelstin gave me before I left.
I headed to ENIEG for my final rendezvous with Mr. D. Again, he told me we had an important schedule that day which included the sous-prefet, which is like the guy just under the prefet. This seemed pretty weird considering I could have sworn he told me the day before that the sous-prefet had died. We never did meet with any sous-prefet that day so Mr. D might be slippin’.
We did, however, go to a primary/secondary school that was being built that Mr. D told me I should try and teach it as well if my schedule allows. I told him we should wait until I get one school under my belt before we think about adding my services to another school. He said it would help my community integration, which I’m sure it would, but I also think they might be thinking of the advantage of not having to pay another Cameroonian teacher. The Senaga River flows directly behind the school, and I didn’t have my camera with me, but I will try and snap a picture at some point. I’ve actually been slackin’ at taking pictures, but I’m glad some of my comrades have been able to post some pictures so you all can see some of the craziness of training and Cameroon.
After the school, Mr. D and I headed for the maison du parti to catch a bus heading to Yaounde. He told me that he would accompany me to make sure that I made it back to Bafia safely. I feel bad about complaing about Mr. D because he was a great guy he just had a few quirks that got to me.
There I was back in the vice grip that is Cameroonian public transportation. I got on the bus and was directed towards the back. After stepping over two rows of chairs I came upon a row that four people and some small kids were already crammed into. This is where they wanted me to sit. There was about a 6 inch space between a lady I will name Big Mama and a 30 year old mother with her son on her lap. I just kind of laughed like, “This is really where you want me to sit?” I spun around and wedged my bum in between the two women. Everyone on the bus laughed at le blanc trying to squeeze my bubble butt into a space made for a newborn. Who needs seatbelts when you are wedged into the person’s armpit next to you.
I couldn’t make many notes during the bus ride due to lack of arm space so I mostly just read my book about Mattie Stepanek. I did make a note about the kid next to me eating Parle G’s, which are kind of like a graham cracker cookie that we have all fallen in love with here. The window was open so all the kid’s crumbs were flying all over my face, arms, and lap. He’s lucky he was a cute little guy or else I might have snagged his cookies. Towards the end of the ride he also kept touching me and my helmet. I didn’t mind, I’m probably the first white person he’s ever got to touch and it was funny to see him regarding the helmet like I was some type of Power Ranger. Along the way I saw a bus called Le Blanc Bus. I thought maybe it was like the separate water fountain thing, but didn’t catch any le blancs on the bus. The kids in the seat behind me kept coughing and it felt like it was right on my neck. It was pop my collar territory, but my arms were pretty much glued to my sides so I just vowed to antibacterial my neck ASAP. I’m also pretty sure I got ripped off by the guy taking money because everybody else seemed to be paying 1500 CEFA, but when I gave him a 2000 he never gave me back any change like he did everyone else. Guess I got the white man price. This was easily the most uncomfortable ride I’ve ever been a part of and the pain shifted from my @$$ to my back and usually in both. Climbing off that death trap was a wonderful feeling. Until the bag grabbers from other van companies tried grabbing my bag for me to put on their van and I had to tell them to back off.
Mr. D and I grabbed a taxi and headed to my next stop, Tongolo where a Super Amigo launching station was located. Taxi protocol is pretty interesting and I thought I’d share since my notes were getting more spaced out. Basically people stand along the side of main roads waiting for taxis. If a taxi is interested in a rider, he will pull up to the rider with the window down and honk. The possible patron will tell the taxi where he/she is going and how much he/she is willing to pay. If the taxi driver agrees he will honk the horn again and it is a go. If they don’t agree they simply drive off and you have to repeat with the next taxi that pulls up.
We finally made it to the Super Amigo station after about a 40 minute drive that could have been 20 minutes if we didn’t stop at every person looking for a ride. When we walked into the “bus station”, I heard someone yelling, “Max! Max!” It was my host dad, Mefire! I have no idea what the hell he was doing there because I never told him when I was coming back, but somehow he knew I’d be there and said he was waiting for me to make sure I got a ticket. Mom and Dad, this should at least ease some of your fears knowing that everyone is so protective of me here J. I miss feeling like an adult, but hey I get by with a little help from my friends.
I went to buy a ticket and they said that it was sold out at the moment. Luckily, Papa Mefire did some finagling and got me in his seat in the smaller van and took the larger bus that was heading to Bafia. I got a window seat and was glad to have him there to make sure I would make it to Bafia. Through the window he kept repeating to me the French phrase I would need to tell the moto driver to get me to his house since it’s not like you can just tell them a street address here. “Carifour san su si!” Yeah, I wrote it down to make sure I had it. The second leg of the trip was a little less painful and less eventful. Before we left though, a guy was selling a cup of some type of white cream looking drink to someone inside the van right when a lady was getting on. Her head jacked the cup out of his hand and directly into her weave and onto the guy in front of her. The guy on the van was pretty irate and I’m not even sure if the lady knew she had a giant glob of white substance in her hair. I decided it was best to keep my mouth shut and make it to Bafia in one piece. I bought a sleeve of chocolate cookie wafers for the trip since I was hungry and gave some to the kid on the lady’s lap next to me. You’d have thought I learned after my last run around with the crumbs. This kid was even messier and slobbered a lot more. Most of it ended up on mama bear though.
I made it to Bafia without any problems, except that about 5 minutes into the trip the lady behind me wanted me to shut the window so I was left to suck air from the inch gap I was left to work with. When we got to Bafia, all the moto drivers wanted to take me to wherever my destination was. They kept asking me if I was Central American for some reason, must be the beard or maybe the soccer jersey. I got away from the pack and grabbed one of the calmer moto drivers and uttered my destination. He seemed to understand and we were off. Later that night I found out about my new little cousin Eve Victoria, congrats again guys! As sweet as it was for Papa Mefire to come and make sure I got to Super Amigo safely I think the honeymoon is over. After dinner was over he told me that tomorrow I needed to clean my room and wash my sheets. Over here, sometimes 23 feels like 13.
This was the tale of Max’s site visit to Edea. It took me two weeks to get it all typed out so I hope that you enjoyed reading. I’ve been told a lot of people enjoy reading the blog so I will try to update as much as my work, time, and internet connection will allow.
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