Right. The last entry was a touch heavy, so I’ll lighten this one up. Despite the poverty and day-to-day challenges, Cameroon can be lotsa fun, with a plethora (did I say plethora? I meant to say “really a lot”) of light heartedness, enough for everyone (except for one buddy of mine from the UK who can’t stand Cameroon – I just think he needs to chew more Kola nut. Gives you a buzz similar to caffeine, so you giggle uncontrollably and start using words like “plethora”).
Whenever I load photos on to this blog, Traveljournals automatically identifies the location and places it on a map. If you look at my Traveljournals map, you’ll see I’ve been to a total of one place in the entire world. Bamenda, Cameroon.
I gotta get out more.
So I did!! A few weeks ago, I had a 2-day meeting in the city of Maroua, in the Far North Province (actually, they are no longer called Provinces. Cameroon’s proactive and creative president of 26 years changed the titles to “Regions”. Something about increasing transparency and accountability in Government. I feel more responsible already).
(What’s with all these side notes in brackets?)
For those of you not in the know, I live in the NW Region, which is at an altitude of about 2,000 metres. As I’ve mentioned in past entries, the temperature here in the NW is ideal. Generally somewhere in the 20’s to low 30’s (Celsius) throughout the year. Very muddy during the long rainy season, and dusty during the dry season, but quite comfortable, overall.
The Far North is a different story. The temperature is typically around 40 degrees or higher, and the journey to get there is a treat in itself. It takes 2 days of travel from Bamenda, including 2 bus rides of 8 hours each, and a 16-hour train ride (a process to be repeated when going home). The last bus ride is the greatest challenge, because the heat is quite intense, the bus is very crowded with no air conditioning, and people usually close the windows because they don’t like the wind. I think I could have made a cup of tea with my bottled water by the end of the trip, it was so hot.
I should have put that last sentence in brackets.
The radio is playing in the background as I write this. The announcer just advised that the temperature in the Far North reached 51 degrees yesterday, and the heat is expected to continue for most of April.
I’ll admit I was dreading the ride to Maroua, and wasn’t even looking forward to spending time there, as I am a wimp, and can’t stand heat (as you may know, my last name, and a portion of my heritage, is Icelandic. I usually tell people that, given that I’ve not been to Iceland, [although I do think Bjork is kinda cute in an imp-ish kind of way], the only things Icelandic about me are my last name and my pasty complexion. I think I’ll add “inability to process heat without turning into Linda Blair circa 1974” to the list).
Brackets within brackets. Yes!!
Fortunately, the whole journey was well worth it, and then some. The Far North of Cameroon is near the south end of the Sahara, so the landscape and climate are completely different from the NW where I live. It truly felt like I was in a different country. The people (predominantly Muslim, with a different ancestry from most other parts of Cameroon), the food, climate, landscape, all made for a fascinating experience. In many ways, the environment felt more “African” than where I live in the NW. I think that’s because it reminded me so much of the Africa that we see in nature shows on TV at home. Dry, flat lands with trees sparsely scattered about, huge rock formations periodically jutting out of the landscape, small villages along the highway, entirely built out of mud brick with grass-thatched roof homes (tiny homes, rarely more than one room per house, no more than one or two hundred square feet in size).
There were also several massive river beds, two to three hundred metres wide, with sandy bases, completely dried out (another side note for my American friends: a metre in the US is known in your vernacular as a “meter”, and is a utensil used for scooping your dog’s droppings from your “yard”. Now go tell all your friends). I’ve never seen anything like it. During the rainy season, a storm will blow through, and these rivers will completely fill up, only to drain entirely within a day or so of the rain. During the dry season (which is right now), people gather in the river beds, playing football, going for walks, and generally just hanging out. At first glance, you’d think you were looking at a beach on an ocean side setting, until you realize there’s no ocean to be found.
Here’s the kicker: All this cool stuff to look at, and I took a grand total of zero photos. I brought my camera, though!! Feel free to kick my arse when I return home, but I’ve already endeavoured to kick it myself. The problem was, I never had my camera with me because we didn’t set out to specifically do any sight-seeing, so I was never properly prepared.
I know, that’s no excuse, but at least I have a reason to go there again.
Another reason to go there again is that there are a couple of national parks worth visiting, with hippos, elephants, lions, unicorns, and the occasional dragon (they don’t really breathe fire – that’s just a fable created by Danielle Steele). I would have loved to have gone, but finances and time were not on my side.
One of my colleagues in Maroua has done lots of touring around the area, and told me that Maga, where the hippos are, is an absolute oasis. The largest park where the big game lives is called Waza. Apparently, chances of seeing the larger animals such as lions, elephants, or giraffes are quite rare, due to the illegal poaching that takes place. Cameroon doesn’t have the tourism the way Kenya or Tanzania do, so the wildlife is not as well protected. My buddy in Maroua did tell me that you’ll even see poachers cruising around the park when you visit. He said it’s still worth going to, as there are several small animals, and the park is interesting in itself.
I think that’s the most writing I’ve ever done about somewhere I didn’t visit. Oh well, I’ll get there next time. Of course, that will exhaust what remains of my bank account, so my friends and family in Calgary should start thinking about preparing their couches and fridges for my frequent visits.
Maybe I could be like Eddy. Just act so adorable that everyone will take me in to their houses for free, 2 months at a time. That should get me by until this financial whatever-it-is comes to an end (my problem is, I’m much more funny on paper than in real life, so I have to depend on these journal entries to win my way into your gigantic hearts).
That’s it for now. Sorry about the absence of photos (I’ll do better next time. Promise).
By the way, if you want to see some amazing amateur footage of wildlife in Africa, get on to YouTube.com and check out “Battle at Kruger”. My buddy Frankie told me about it. It’s quite something to see.
I realize I frequently mention my buddy Frankie in my journal entries. It’s time to face the truth: Frankie is a figment of my imagination. I made him up in an effort to have my very own sidekick. Something to give you all a good laugh, if you will.
Next entry: Parentheses. I’m so excited about it, I gotta pee.
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