Church choir

We are going to have just a few more entries to this blog, now that we can upload photos and video.

In Limbe, we attended a church service which was really interesting. At the end of the four-hour church service (!) the choir led the way out the door and I got a little snippet of their harmonies on video.

West African Dancing Fool

Okay, so here is the much-awaited video of Keith on a dark stage in Yaounde. The dancers have finished performing and one dancer has selected an audience member to come on stage and dance with her. Being the only white people there, we were easy targets.

Food for thought

So we are back in Canada now. We drove home from New Jersey yesterday. Of course we had to go through a snow storm in New York about 15 miles from the border to get here.
We have talked about food a few times on this blog and in general the food in Cameroon, although sometimes strange to us, was usually pretty healthy – grilled fish, bread and fresh fruit.
Friday night after we got in, we went out to eat with Deb’s Aunt Jo. I had been craving a steak as we had not had a lot of beef in our diet over the last three weeks. The ladies suggested gourmet burgers. I could live with that, so off we went.
The menu was mouth-watering and the large 20 ounce beer fit right in with my Cameroon beer diet. I ordered a big stack of onion rings to start. A deep fried stack of goodness seemed like the perfect way to start the evening. Then the burgers came. Mine had more deep fried onions on it with a peppercorn sauce and lots of melted cheese. Mmmmm… lots of greasy goodness.
I don’t think that Deb and I were out of the door before that big ball of grease in our stomach hit us like a lead weight. We were chewing on antacids for desert.
There were very few overweight people in Cameroon and we had a lot of time during our seven hour drive home to re-enjoy our gas-producing burgers from the previous night and to reevaluate our diet. We ate fairly healthy before but there is room for improvement and hopefully this blog entry will be a reminder for me when I get the old greasy burger cravings.

b something

I thought about this post on the flight back.
We have flown twice with Brussels Airlines and I am really impressed with their marketing strategy. There logo is a stylized letter “b” (http://company.brusselsairlines.com/en/home/) and the marketing plan uses that b on all of the things that they give out to the customers. For example on the salt and pepper package that they give out with dinner, it says “b spicy”, on the cup that had my water it said “b cool”, on the litter bag in the seat back pocked, it said “b tidy” and the wet napkin package it said “b clean”.
It made me look a lot closer at their packages to see what they would use next.
On the flight back from Cameroon, the bathroom near my seat did not exactly stay as clean as it was when we first got on the plane so I told the flight attendant that we had been able to chat with during take offs and landings that they should put a “b accurate” sign on the under side of the toilet seat.
Keith signing off.

The magic internet box

We are spending our last night at a very nice resort and by the front desk there is a computer for guests to surf the internet. Of course there is a cost for this privilege and the hourly rate is about twice as much as any other place that we have used so far.
We asked about getting on the box but the guy at the front desk said it was broken and that the technician was coming tomorrow to fix it. I just happen to be a computer technician so I asked if I could have a look at it. We (myself and the guy from the front desk) booted the computer and yep, it made some funny noises and it would not connect to the internet. The front desk guy grunted something about it not working and walked away.
Being the trained professional that I am, I wondered if the network cable laying next to the monitor could have something to do with the problem. I looked at the back of the computer and sure enough there was no cable plugged in and once I plugged it in and the other end into the connection at the wall jack, we had a computer with an internet connection.
It was a real slow connection but it was enough for Deb to check her email but we really wanted to get back to the beach.
In the good old days of billable hours, I would have dinged them for enough to cover the cost of the room and dinner that night.
C’est la vie!

Crazy people

We have seen and interacted with enough crazy people to rate a blog entry.
The first crazy person was a woman in N’Gandourere. I saw her first when I was on a moto-taxi. She was standing in the center of the road and I thought that she was upset and yelling because someone had driven too close to her as she crossed the road. She was still standing in the center of the road a couple of hours later when Deb and I walked by and yes, she was still yelling.
The next crazy person was a naked man walking around Maroua. We saw him as we left the bus station. Apparently people have tried to give him clothes to wear but he always seems to get rid of them. I guess it would be kind of liberating.
There was another crazy guy in the Maroua market. We tried to ignore him but after a couple of minutes he grabbed at my arm. I jerked it away and yelled “NO” and not only did it startle him but it also startled the vendors around us. I was a bit worried for a bit as all of the vendors stared at me. I wondered if I had just insulted the local pet crazy person but after a few seconds they all started to laugh and then the shooed him away and we continued with our business.
The next crazy guy was the drunk guy in the fishing area of Limbe, but we have already talked about him.
Also in Limbe, we saw one crazy guy twice. The first time was when we were coming out of a local store and he was crossing the road in front of us. There was something about him that caught my attention. If you were to put an old army jacket on him, he could have been cast as the crazy homeless guy for any movie set in any large city. The second time we crossed paths was in the central market. We were moving through the market single file as it is just easier to get through the crowds that way. I was in the lead this time and it wasn’t until we were about 20 feet away from him that Deb told me that he came up behind her, mumbled something and then whipped her on each shoulder with some sort of leafy twig. It kind of freaked her out so we just put some distance between us and him.

Wazaaaaaaaa

Last week, Keith and I spent a day in Waza National Park.

 

It was an interesting ride to the park, about 2 hours from the city we were staying in. Our guide, Hamadou, was very informative. There were cyclists all along the route with gas cans loading down their bikes. He told us they all get together, strap their bikes and gas cans to the top of a van and drive 90 km to Nigeria every evening. There, they fill up with cheap gas and cycle back (90km!) all night so they can then sell the gas in Cameroon. As we left the park that evening, we saw the vans and cyclists heading back out to Nigeria. (Now that we are in Limbe, we have discovered the same thing goes on here, but being on the ocean, the journey is done by boat).

 

So, Waza! It's a difficult time of year to see elephants and lions because we are just entering the hot season, when they congregate at water holes. So, we were unable to find any. But we found lots of giraffes! Lots and lots of families of giraffes. They are so gangly and watched us as much as we watched them. We also watched warthogs watering at a pond, lots of weird antelopes and deer-like creatures (we had never heard of a kob, for example), and lots of very large cranes. Those suckers were as tall as my waist and not skinny, either. Keith says their wing spanned about 6ft. We will show you video!

 

Although we didn't see lions or elephants, we saw tracks. Does that count? The elephant tracks were pretty dry which made for a very bumpy ride. Imagine a herd of elephants walking over mud or clay, then the earth drying their tracks. That's what we drove over. The lion's paw print we saw was as large as Keith's hand span.

 

Yesterday we went to Limbe's wildlife centre, a small primate zoo just around the corner from our hotel. It's really well-run and well-maintained, housing gorillas, chimpanzees, drills, madrills, monkeys, baboons and some other animals. I liked watching the chimps check each other's eyes and teeth very carefully. One used a stick to drag leaves from the other side of the electric fence. The baby drills were about 7 inches tall and so mischevious. Drills are native to Cameroon and are an endangered species.

 

We also saw the four gorillas which were brought back to Cameroon from South Africa at the

end of November. They are quarantined for three months, so right now they are living in a separate cage with a big "Welcome back to Cameroon!" banner over their home.

Cameroon snippets

We are down to two more sleeps before getting on the plane back home. For our last night, we plan to stay at Semme Beach Hotel, which has a natural spring on its beautiful grounds right on the ocean.

 

So, we wanted one of our last posts to be little snippets we will remember about Cameroon. Here goes:

 

- little kids running beside the bus or train yelling "L'eau, l'eau l'eau!" (selling chilled water). They also appreciate your empty water bottles, as they can fill them up and sell them again.

 

- I'm surprised my poor French is understood better than my English. Don't I talk like the people on TV?

 

- We watched a blind boy cross the treacherous streets of Yaounde, streets we got nervous crossing because of the cars and moto-taxis weaving in and out and coming from all directions with little regard to driving rules. The blind boy just stuck his cane straight out and walked verrrry slooowly. Traffic slowed, then stopped for him and he felt his way around the cars blocking his path. Talk about faith.

 

- The very high unemployment rate here leads to young men walking around selling everything to anyone. Anyone with a car or motor bike is a taxi drive, too, as it means extra cash.

 

- Every meal in a restaurant comes with Maggi, a Dutch condiment similar to soya sauce.

 

- Every single thing you buy (everything!) is served up in a little plastic bag. As a result, they litter the streets, water, fields, ditches. If you see something black and skittering across the road, it's probably a plastic bag.

 

- Cameroonian crows look like penguins.

 

- Chickens sitting under our seats on bus rides, pecking at our ankles.

 

- Running into travellers we know in different cities.

 

- Cameroonian peanuts are delicious!

 

 

 

 

Beer or water?

That is a very common qustion for us.  When we are not eating by ourselves in our hotel room, where we usually have bread and fruit, the question at the restaurant is do we have beer or water.  The cost of beer here is about the same or cheaper than the 1.5 litre bottles of water and the beer comes in the big quart bottles,  so much for losing weight on this trip.

One of the more popular beer is the 33 Export brand and they have a great marketing campaign.  33 KM from the next town, you will find a 33 Export beer billboard that lets you know that you are now 33km from the next town.  We have been very happy to see those signs when we were stuck on the packed buses.

mmmm beer is gooood..... Keith needs more beer...

 

Fishing village riot

We just about caused a riot in the fishing area here in Limbe.

 

We got up early yesterday morning to watch the fishing boats come in and grab some photos of the picturesque area. It was really nice, talking with the friendly locals and watching and learning about life there. Fishermen were fixing their nets, building boats, casting out nets by hand, and women were eating breakfast on the beach, waiting for the boats to come in.

 

After photographing a bit, we sat down to just take in the scenery when we heard some yelling behind us. A man was yelling in French, "Ne filmez pas! Ask before filming! This is my country!"

 

He was just walking around us ranting - I thought he was handicapped so we ignored him until some of the women started yelling back at him. "Shut up! Go away!" and to us, "You are free, you can film. This is Cameroon, a drunk man!"

 

There were also guys behind us yelling and when I looked at them, they were laughing and motioning me to take photos of the drunk guy for their amusement.

 

So, we made friends with the ladies, "Yes! Film us!" and gave them some gum.

 

And then we ran away.   

Africa time

So everyone says that things are just slower here in Africa but we have seen some examples of very efficient service here. 

We made a trip to Waza National Park (a future entry) and our driver was waiting for us outside of the hotel at the appointed hour of 6 AM.  

Yesterday we flew from the far north of Cameroon to the south and the airlines, National Cameroon Airlines was prompt and efficient and we left on time.  The plane was comfortable and the I had about 8 inches of leg room between my knees and the seat in front of me.   Some North American airlines should takes some lessons from this company.

Of course there were some interesting things about the flight,  the police had to inspect our checked baggage but no one looked at our carry on baggage.  Go figure.

Another thing that we have learned here is that you need a fixer to get through customs \"security" at the airport.  We could not have done it without Deli, the fixer who adopted us.   I guess he felt sorry for the two lost looking Nasari (white people). 

The Wife tells me that I need to stop now..... bye ;-)

 

Last leg

We are on the last leg of this African journey. Yesterday we flew down from the far north to the southwest province and are staying in a cute beach town called Limbe.

 

As we drove in, I opened the window and stuck my head out, straining to hear some english, as this is the english part of Cameroon. Up until now, we have been in the french parts and being the official translator in this couple, I was running out of french words.

 

I love one of the staff members at our hotel. She's very slow and everything takes a lot of effort for her to do. After I ordered my meal, Keith ordered his. About thirty seconds later, she looked at him and murmured slowly, "You said something?" So he ordered again (beef in peanut sauce with fries) and she scrunched up her face like he had just stepped on her toes.

 

"Uhmm..cheeeps? Ummm... noo," she mumbled. I suppressed a laugh. Keith suggested, "Rice?" She hemmed and hawed before agreeing that, yes, she would be comfortable serving rice alongside beef in peanut sauce. I call her Sunshine.

 

 

Prison diet

Just so you know, Keith and I have been subsisting on bread and water. Occasionally, we will buy some papaya slices, but who knows when that will get old, like the bananas and avacadoes did.

With no way to cook our own food, we have eaten in some restaurants, and eat street food sometimes, too. Fruit is great, some baked goods or fried food is okay, but we are not okay with the meat or a street sandwich made with warm mayo.

So, bread and water is a regular meal for us now. Bon appetit!

Best Honeymoon Ever!

This has been our mantra for the last week or so. I tink Deb started saying "best honeymoon ever" because we were having so much fun. I think it started after the night of dancing. When we were feeling a bit under the weather, we used it to pick our spirits up. The truth is that it is the best honeymoon ever because I am with my beautiful wife and we are exploring Africa.

There was one moment of laughter when we had to question our sanity. I believe it was day 7 of this trip when Deb said that we had been here only a week, as we exchanged places in the bathroom yet again. I truly felt at that moment that I had been on trains and buses for at least three weeks by that point, so I was quite surprised. Deb's mantra at that time was "next time you pick the spot".

I am glad we are both feeling better so now we can get back to making this the Best Honeymoon Ever.

Attention, everyone!

You can all scratch the city of Garoua off your list of "must-visit" cities. I am here to tell you it is a craphole of crap. If your asthma doesn't act up from the thick exhaust fumes, surely the smoke from the burning garbage will induce it. Or, maybe it will be the dusty streets that get you coughing. Did I forget to mention the potholes in this boring, ugly transportation hub of a city?

If I sound like a snob, it's because I am now 4 hours north in sunny Maroua. The wide avenues are tree-lined and there is a pleasant laid-back atmosphere here.

But to be truthful, we have found Cameroonians to be friendly and helpful no matter what city we are visiting. In Garoua, customers eagerly assisted in the translations at the boulangerie, and in the market in Maroua, a man approached Keith to warn him about protecting his backpack against thieves.

Our plans have changed since we arrived here. We have had to dramatically cut back on the things we had hoped to do and see, because we have less time than we thought and everything takes longer than we anticipated.

We are now in the far north province, where everything is brown and dry, a stark contrast to the greenery of the south. The style of the huts have also changed along the route north. We've taken a lot of snapshots out the windows of the buses, but won't be able to show them until we get back. Nine days left!

The State of Computers in Africa

Keith again.
On a bit of a rant in this entry.  It took about 34 of our 60 minutes to get to a point that we could actually write blog entries and emails.  I'll try to paint you a picture in the 8 minutes I have left.
The computers are Pentium1,with 128 Kb of RAM. Many of them are old Compaqs.  The keyboards are all French, sother the keys are all over the place.   Not too bad for me as I am not a touch typist, like Deb.   The keyboard that I am working on was english and they have taped the French charqacters over top of the keys.
The screen has a nice image of Window NT Workstation burned into it.

Hell I feel better already,  I have ranted and now I can go try some strange food. 
;-)

Unwilling captives

Well, we are still in Ngaoundere, the town we wrote from last. Our insides (more mine than Keith's) are not cooperating enough for us to venture on a 9 hour bus ride.

The town is like a completely different country than the cities we saw in the south, sort of reminds us of the wild west. Lots of dust, not much greenery, laid back atmosphere and Keith even saw a horse today. You are just as likely to see a woman in jeans and a t-shirt selling goods as you are to see a woman in more traditional muslim dress. There are Muslim calls to prayer over the mosque's loudspeakers on a regular basis.

This morning we were awakened to the bells of the Catholic church. We attended a later mass in the huge cathedral and I wish you could have heard the harmonious choir echoing off the concrete walls. One thing we noticed was the amount of children taking care of their younger siblings. We watched as one generous sister gave her younger brother the gum out of her mouth. This church also had bouncers. The red-sashed ushers patrolled the aisles, tapping on the shoulder the unlucky ones who had fallen asleep.

The temperature here is quite moderate, even cool enough to wear a jacket in the evening. Nice for sleeping.

The Amazing Race

Hi it's Keith again.

I feel like I have signed up to be an Amazing Race contestant.  It has been a go, go, go past few days and it is time for a break.  I haven't been a fan of public transport since living in Toronto 20 years ago and now I get to share a small bus with 35 of my closest friends and no AC.  It is an interesting process to catch a bus here in Cameroon.  You show up at the bus station (and you hope it is the right one, as there are numerous bus stations) and then you jump into the rugby scrum to buy your tickets.  Once you have your tickets, you get to wait, and wait and wait, but you are constantly entertained by a host of vendors selling everything that you could possibly want and stuff that you probably don't want.   You have the normal stuff like candy, water, watches, magizines, but then you have shots of some unknown liquid, nasty meat sandwiches, towels and my new favourite, spicy baked beans.

mmm baked beans....  I digress, back to the bus story.

To get on the bus you have your name called and then you got get the ticket form the guy standing next to the bus.  You don't get you ticket when you actually buy it,  that upset some Dutch guys that we met today.  I think they figured it out.

Once you have your ticket, then you get to force your way on to the bus and hope that you get a seat that has a window that opens.  You also have to hope that the bus doesn't stop fifty meters down the road to pick up another 30 people to stand in the aisle for the 4 hour bus ride.   Oh yeay, they don't stand, they lean on the lucky people seated next to them. 

Keith, siging off for now.

New Year's at the beach

Over the New Year holiday, we relaxed at a small resort in Kribi. Do a search for Tara Plage and you will see the beachfront rooms. Very nice!

 

Earlier in the day on New Year's Eve, I saw a family of small stature, who didn't really seem to fit in with anyone. When night fell, we were drawn to rythmic drumming and singing which sounded a lot like native Canadian traditional singing. Turns out the hotel brought in a busload of Pygmies to entertain us for New Year's Eve. We recorded some of the music, but it was neat to see the dancers performing under the palm trees.

 

Right now we are travelling in the north. It's been trying to use the intercity transit system, because at the best of times this would be a 28 hour trip (bus, train, bus). Of course, this is Africa, so nothing is on schedule. Tomorrow morning we are facing a 9 hour bus ride. Part of the adventure, right? Yes, at this point our trip is more adventure than honeymoon. But always interesting.

West African dancing fool

I have learned many things since arriving here in Camerron, but I never expected to find out I was married to a west African dancing fool.

 

We went out to a bar where locals hang out to see dancers perform traditional tribal dances, mostly the Siko or Asiko tribe was represented. The dancers keep their upper body still, move their feet a little, but gyrate their belly and their pelvis in a way that Elvis would envy.

 

Well, after their impressive performance, they invite audience members one by one to join them on stage. And yes, a dancer invited Keith. He leaped up on stage and proceeded to do his version of the Siko dance. The Cameroonians went wild - screaming, laughing, clapping. He brought down the house.

 

I took a video of all this with my little camera. It's hilarious - grainy, dark and a little hard to see, but it is proof my husband is a west African dancing fool.