“The public toilet here is too disgusting, just go pee on that building over there.” Celestina, VSO programme officer and Cameroon local.
I will likely never know why I love the feeling of getting off a plane in a developing country. The airport building reminds you this is not where the money is, the wall of humidity greats you as you get of the plane, like it just wants to say, “you think you can take a year of this, sucka?!?”, the indescribable yet inimitable odour in the air, the crowd of young gents that gathers, offering to help carry your luggage (we graciously declined, although they all followed us to the car and offered to help load it – we declined again – in the end they asked for compensation for all their hard work, but couldn’t understand why we refused), the customs agents that may elect to ask over & over again what your motives are with all that underwear, or they may just stamp your passport without even making eye contact. It’s all part of the experience.
We spent the first week in training in Yaoundé, the capital of Cameroon. There were 10 of us volunteers, 5 going to the scorching 40° C far north (francophone/Muslim), and 5 going to the Anglophone NW Province (majority Christian) where the air is much cooler, although the rainy season is pretty intense. Very interesting just to meet the others in training: 3 Quebecois (one originally from Democratic Republic of Congo – wonder why she left?), and one each from Ireland, Wales, France, Uganda, Philippines, and India. I thought it interesting that people from the 3 developing countries elected to do volunteer work away from home.
A few observations about Yaoundé: aside from a few sporadically placed tall buildings, some which were fairly new, you’d have no idea the size of the place by its character. No large shopping malls, interchanges (or even traffic lights for that matter), parks, monuments or other ‘manicured landmarks’ that are usually the trademark of cities of over a million people. Many unpaved roads, neglected buildings that are literally falling down but still being used, by merchants or as dwellings. A dichotomy in the making, though: there were very few beggars or stray animals, the streets were cleaned regularly, and most people were fairly well-dressed, not in a “wealthy” way by any means, but new, clean clothes. Women always looking very stylish (really funky wigs are the norm). Granted, we were in a respectable part of town, although a look at the photos (finally uploaded!!) may lead you to think otherwise. My understanding is it can get pretty ugly in some of the other parts of town.
Bamenda & Santa are a whole other story, so I'm going to save them for a whole other story.
The people are very friendly, and not just to us foreigners. There’s a laid-back, good-natured character that everyone genuinely shares with one another. With what I’ve seen so far, it’s hard to imagine the violence that can, and recently did, erupt. Perhaps it’s all a part of the passion, although it obviously has a lot to do with the standard of living people are faced with daily.
One day, as a few of us were waiting in a fairly crowded area for our resident permits to be processed, we saw a woman in her 60's, completed naked, wandering aimlessly, occasionally sitting down on the sidewalk. People walking past were ignoring her as though she were just another naked woman sitting on the sidewalk. Later, a young local explained to us very seriously that you’ll see someone like that on occasion, usually it’s just a person who’s been practicing witchcraft, one of her spells having gone wrong, and now her mind has gone. And I thought us western folk had a long way to go in providing support for homeless, mentally ill people.
I guess this journal entry isn’t quite as funny as some of my past emails, huh?
Okay, a quick, light-hearted story. On our last night in Yaoundé, Celestine took us to a bar where there were musicians and dancers, entertaining us with African pop tunes, cool jazz, and a touch of western pop music. Several of the dances were traditional to various tribes in Cameroon, including the Pygmies. The highlight of the evening though, was when a dance group hit the floor to entertain us to some Michael Jackson moves, with an impersonator of the man himself. Good dancer, he was. Get this…he was an albino!!! How can one ask for any more in life than a black albino in Africa impersonating Michael Jackson??? Even with his light-red hair and skin tone similar to my own, he still looked more like a black man than MJ himself. Words cannot describe how happy I was to have had this experience.
There you have it. Week number one. I've seen some things that you just can't photograph, or even describe. Emotionally, up & down like a toilet seat. Welcome to Africa, the part that very few western tourists see. Wouldn’t trade it for anything.
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