In Paris...

Isaac and I are now safely in Paris, seeing some of the sights and staying with a friend, Jim, that we met in Limbe.

We hope to make in up to Dublin tommorrow for Thanksgiving with my friends Jud and Anna Beth.

There is a public transport strike going on here in Paris, which makes getting around difficult.

More later

Kumba in Flames?!

These riots in Kumba that resulted in numerous building being burned and students being teargassed and shot (with one dying) began the day we left Kumba, 2 weeks ago. If you read my previous post about when we were in Kumba, you'll recall that it was a very frustrating day for us. We basically spent an entire day trying to get up to this lake, and ended up getting shuttled around for the entire day, trying to get permission to see the lake and paying a lot of money.

After our attempts were frustrated, we decided to give up on Kumba and left the next morning, on Wed the 7th. It's a good thing that we did, because later that day students began protesting too-frequent power outages (which we experienced). They started protesting on Wed, some were arrested but the protest was successful because they repaired the power problem. However, when the police did not release the arrested students, students rioted again on Friday, burning down a police station and a couple of other govt. buildings. Police fired teargas at the students, and when they ran out of teargas they started firing into the crowd. One student died and several others were seriously injured.

I guess it's a good thing we followed our instincts and left Kumba. I think our mother's prayers are working.

We didn't find all of this out until a week later, when we found this newspaper in the train station in N'gaoundere the following Friday. Needless to say, our mothers weren't as thrilled with the news as we were...

36 Hours to N'Gaoundere

Now, you would think that when you travel to a place like Cameroon, that your most memorable experience would be something like seeing a rare mountain gorilla or eating pig brains or something like that. Well, it turns out, that, for me, the most memorable and adventurous thing we have done so far is...take public transportation.

If you've read my previous posts, you understand that the buses, which are the primary means of transportation here are, how shall I put it delicately, not exactly up to Western standards of safety and comfort. Isaac and I had a taste of that the past couple of weeks on our rides in minibuses, and people and our guidebook warned us of the bad road conditions from Foumban to N'gaoundere, but nothing could really quite prepared us for the 36 HOUR ODYSSEY that we were to experience.

Our trusty (and now muddy) Lonely Planet guidebook said to budget a few days for the journey. In mind mind, I was thinking one long day to travel by bus from Foumban to Banyo, rest in a hotel for the night, then another long day from Banyo to N'gaoundere. The journey did take two days, but two days straight with no sleep.

We started by waking at 6 AM to meet our bus at 7 at the station. We've come to expect the late departure of buses at this point, but this time it was 6 hours late. After about 4 hours, we were getting a bit impatient, and were asking them why we weren't leaving. After all, we had the passengers, the loaded minibus, but...no driver. No one knew where he was. One of our fellow passengers chuckled at our impatience, and when we asked how long the trip would take he chuckled again and said something like, "It may take 12 hours, it may take 3 days. All we know is that we will get to Banyo. The road is very bad."

Well, finally, 6 hours later at 1 PM, the driver showed up, we all piled into the minibus, and off we went. You can see from the photos how much they pile on top of the bus, but what you cannot see is how much they pile inside. Since they had removed the last row of seats, we had "only" 4 rows left to stuff full of people, because the more they stuff in, the more money they earn. 1st row: Driver and 3 other men. 2nd row: 2 guys, 2 women, 1 child. 3rd row: Us (2 men), a woman, another guy and 2 kids. Last row: 5 women, 4 kids. Total: 9 guys, 8 women, 7 kids makes 24 people.

Now, look at the pictures of us (the red bus) getting ourselves unstuck from these mud pits, and imagine doing this over 20 times, for 16 hours (until 5 AM the next morning) some of the time in the rain and some in the dark, and you begin to get a picture of what this voyage was for us. The 1st part, at least.


At least there are two lanes



Tow ropes help






You also need to keep in mind that this isn't something out of the ordinary. These are relatively typical conditions for this road, and it is often much worse during the rainy season; another passenger, Fidelis, the man who was laughing at our impatience, said he once spent 3 days traveling the same stretch of road. This also isn't some obscure back road--it is the main road between these major cities.

Yet, as hellish as this seems, it was actually, in a strange way, actually pretty fun. I was so impressed by everyone's sense of humor. Whereas most of us soft Westerners would be cursing and perhaps crying, almost everyone was laughing and joking around. Everyone had to work together to rock, push, pull and will the bus out of the mudpit.

I was also blown away by how the women and kids just took it in stride. Another mud pit? 1 AM? OK? Just hop out of the van, walk past, and wait for it to get out. All of the kids in the car were young, under 5, and I rarely heard more than a whimper out of any of them.

We were not the only vehicle in this mess. There were dozens of others also stuck, including these huge delivery trucks, half of which were tipped over. It was a very circus-like atmosphere with people pushing and pulling vehicles, women and children selling food, the Cameroonians laughing at us for slipping in the mud. It doesn't get much more fun than this.

We finally arrive in Banyo, at 5 AM, 16 hours later. Our legs are splattered in mud, we haven't slept, and we've had nothing but bread and bananas to eat. Our plan had been to rest in Banyo for a night or two, but since the N'gaoundere bus left in an hour, we decided that we might as well just take it.

The other passengers waiting for the bus are also waiting there in the train station, sprawled out sleeping on benches.

At roughly 6 AM we start loading the next bus, and by 7, we're rolling to N'gaoundere. This time the road isn't as rough, but the bus is more uncomfortable. I think it maybe used to be a prison transport, because we all have to load in the back and there is a metal cage separating us passengers from the driver's compartment. All told, there are probably about 50 or 60 people packed into these extremely uncomfortable benches.

To make a very long story short, we arrive there after 11 hours, at 6 PM. The road isn't as bad as before, but that means there aren't as many chances to get out and stretch our legs. We made it to N'gaoundere, though, very tired.

journey to Foumban

We spent the day taking a minibus from Kumbo, where we've been the past couple of days to Foumban, in the attempt to make it over to Ngaoundere and take the train back down to Yaounde.

Our guidebook said that the road from Kumbo to Foumban, while rough, was gorgeous. The hotel owner where we stayed last night said we shouldn't go direct to Foumban because the road was rough and there were highway bandits.

He was wrong about the highway bandits, but the road was rough. We got stuck in mud pits about 3 times. The worst of the three times we had to get towed out by a passing beer delivery truck.

The ride for me was made more interesting due to the fact that I had to straddle the stick, and the driver jammed both the stick and his hand into my crotch every time he shifted into second, which was quite often because we were going very slow due to the bad roads. My seat also sat very high, so I had to crane my neck down if I wanted to see out the windows.

That being said, the ride was pretty, and now we're safely in Foumban, wishing we knew French and hoping to make it to Banyo tommorrow!!

Strange things in Cameroon...

One of my favorite things about traveling around here is just the completely random and strange signs and other things we see around here. Some examples:

A HIV prevention sign at our bunkhouse in Buea that read, "What's more dangerous than poison and witchcraft? It's HIV!" Here's a picture:





The "Alaska" popsicles that they sell on the street.

And, while I was emailing in an internet cafe in Bamenda, on the abandoned computer next to mine I read an open email, which, apparently, is part of a Cameroonian monkey export scam to Mexico. The email read: "Thanks for sending the pictures. I live in Veracruz, MEXICO. Where do you live? Are u sure that in one day ill have the monkeys here? Where do we
have to deposit the money?" You can't make this stuff up. I don't know if I prefer that they get their monkeys, or that they get scammed.

Also, the painted warning signs inside the minibuses, including this one:
Isaac was about to vomit, but then I pointed out the sign and he was then able to control himself.

Kumba is Kostly!

After hiking Mt. Cameroon, we made our way from the town of Buea, at the base of the mountain, north to Kumba. We were hoping to visit a lake next to the town that was discussed in our "Lonely Planet: West Africa" guidebook. They made it sound so easy: just take a cheap shared taxi for 150 CFA ($1=465 CFA) each to the road leading to the lake, pay the 200 CFA entrance fee, and feel free to camp wherever you wish. No problem. Not quite that easy.

So, one pattern that I've been noticing so far while traveling around Cameroon is that we've been paying about twice the quoted costs from the guidebook. This is either because we're getting overcharged, or simply because costs have risen since the book was published last year. I'm sensing that it is a bit of both.

Anyway, to reach Kumba we had to take a 2 hr. minibus from Buea, which was quoted as costing, I think, 2000 each, we paid 3000, then, of course, they tacked on an extra 1000 for luggage. The ride was fun, and we only got stuck once in a mudpit, so it was a roaring success. When we arrived at Kumba, of course the taxi drivers start clamoring over who will take us because, they know, they can probably get a lot of $ out of us. After negotiating a bit, we finally cave and agree to let a taxi driver take us, for ONLY 4000 (roughly $8, but a lot for a cab ride here), to the market 1st to buy food for camping, then all the way to the lake, a "very long way" of course. We negotiate the market and buy some basic supplies before getting to the entrance road to the lake which, of course, has a very large chain across the entrance being manned by a guy who stops us.

1st off, the fee isn't 200 per person, it is 1000 per person. 2nd, before camping we have to get permission from his "boss", who is the village chief. So, up the road further to the chief's house, where he asks us why we want to camp at the lake, laughs a bit at us, then tells the 4 men and 2 taxis accompanying us (somehow we've now picked up another taxi and 3 more guys), to first take us to the lake, let us see it, then come back for permission to camp.

So us, the 2 taxis and our 4 escorts start down the rough dirt road. Pretty soon we arrive at a very steep hill. When our original taxi tries getting up the hill, it fails after several tries only to grind backwards, smoking with a dead transmission. Great, we killed the cab. So we just leave our bags in that cab, hop in the 2nd cab, and continue on our merry way. We get to the lake, confirm that we do, indeed, want to try camping there, then drive back along the road. When we pass our original cab, the driver is just standing next to it, wondering what to do. Our escorts just chuckle a bit, but Isaac and I feel a bit bad because, in some way, we are responsible for his dead car. So, as we gather our bags, we give him the agreed 4000 plus a little extra.

So, now in cab 2 we head back to town to find the chief at his office to secure permission. We go in, sit down, and are promptly informed that we need to go to the police station. By now it's about 3 or 4 in the afternoon, and Isaac and I are getting frustrated and are very hungry & thirsty because we haven't eaten or drank anything all day.

So, off to the police station where we are sat down with the police commissioner who proceed to photocopy our passports and ask us all sorts of questions. How long in Cameroon, where are we from, where are we going, what church, where, who, ?????? Finally, he informs us that the lake is too dangerous, and we cannot camp there. OK. As we're leaving our escort (the guard guy from the lake) whispers that while it's "not compulsory", it would be nice to give the police chief something for his trouble. As we hold out 5000, they laugh and say it's not necessary. We insist, though, and they take it.

Then our cab with the other 2 guys in it, who have been waiting this entire time, take us to a local hotel. We argue with them for a while about how much we owe, then finally pay 3000. Then the hotel owner insists that we must get 2 rooms ("regulations" say that we cannot share) at 6000 each and then we pay our escort 2000 for his "help" (he actually was friendly and helpful).

He said he would be happy to take us back to the lake the following day, "no problems", but we decided that we'd rather escape to our next town: Bamenda.

Mt. Cameroon with Mr. Hans

Atop the mountain



Still steaming craters from the 1999 eruption:



I wish I could post pictures (I just did!), because climbing Mt. Cameroon was really incredible. It's the tallest mountain in West Africa, and an active volcano to boot, erupting as recently as 2000! To climb it, you have to get permits and hire a guide and porters, which sounds as if it would be expensive, but the total cost for 1 guide and 1 porter for 3 days for Isaac and I was 60,000 CFA, which is only $130! We also really lucked out, because the guide we got was Mr. Hans, the head guide for the main Ecotourism company for Mt. Cameroon.

So, aside from the name, Mr. Hans was in every way what you would imagine a local hunter turned ecotourism guide would be. He grew up in the area, and used to hunt on the mountain everything from giant rats to mountain elephants. He knew every single plant, its name, its use and its Latin name. He knew the history and geology of every smoking crater and old lava flow, and he knew all of the mythology surrounding the mountain. Besides that, he was a stud, hiking in hard plastic sandals and eating only bread. I could go on and on, but he was sweet.

It was pretty tiring hiking to 4095 m, and we brought too much stuff, but we had a fun time. We were pretty glad that we had a porter, too. His name was Marcos.

More pictures and cell phone!

Hello--

If you didn't get enough pictures from Kelsey, Stephanos also posted from pictures from our OCMC trip up North:
http://www2.snapfish.com/share/p=31111193948455148/l=318144515/g=110496098/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

Alexxa did as well:
http://www1.snapfish.com/share/p=100911193955391320/l=322818029/g=6699788/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

Also, the Metropolitan and Fr. Dmitri helped Isaac and I get a cell phone for while we are travelling around. We can call out from it, but it's about 50 cents for outgoing calls. BUT, if you have a source of cheap international calling (internet phone, cheap card, etc) and want to call us, incoming calls are free. The # is (237) 94-41-20-51. The 237 is Cameroon's country code.

Cameroon

Well, I haven't updated on Isaac and myself's Cameroon travels as originally planned, but I'll try to fix that a bit. To catch you up to speed...

As most of you know we were in the "Extreme North" (one of their regions) of the country along with a group from the Orthodox Christian Mission center. Metropolitan Gregorious, the Orthodox bishop of Cameroon, Chad, Central African Republic, and a few other countries has really done a lot of amazing work here in Cameroon since he got here only 3 years ago. Most of the work that he is doing is in the Extreme North, where he has built many churches, ordained clergy, built schools, wells, and medical clinics, amongst many other things.

The original purpose of our group's trip here was to help in the construction of a large barn that the Orthodox community in Tchatibali will use to raise cattle as an income source for the church. We didn't end up helping a whole lot with the construction (they had a lot of local workers), but we did have an incredible time seeing the area, visiting many churches, and getting to know the people. Needless to say, I could write for hours about that experience, but I won't because I only have 15 minutes left on this computer. To see some pictures that our fellow teammate, Kelsey Lourie, took, you can go to:
http://www2.snapfish.com/share/p=56431194079956806/l=318212195/g=110513022/cobrandOid=1000001/otsc=SYE/otsi=SALB

Hopefully that will work.

Anyway, since the team flew home a couple of weeks ago, Isaac and I have been traveling together to see and experience some other parts of the country. I'll try to get you a bit up to speed.

We 1st took a bus from Yaounde to Douala, the got a ride with a friend of one of the priest here to Limbe, a nice town on the ocean at the base of towering, volcanic Mt. Cameroon. We spent a few days in Limbe, relaxing some but mostly trying to get our bearings and figure out how things work here in Cameroon. We visited the Botanic Garden ("the relic of a once great botanic garden") complete with empty fountains, broken down playground equipment, and crumbling greenhouse. As the guidebook put it, "a relaxing way to spend an afternoon". The Limbe Wildlife Center was better, with lots of good displays of local primates, including one friendly chimpanzee who expertly hucked a large, softball-sized rock over the fence at us. Luckily, we dodged it. In retrospect it would have been fun to have caught it and thrown it back over, but I'm sure the keepers wouldn't have appreciated that. We also spent an afternoon trekking our way to one of the local beaches outside of town.

One of the most interesting experiences was sitting down for dinner at an outside grill, being overcharged immensely, and being talked up by our new "friends", brothers Santana and Anderson. They are in the palm oil business, their father has died, and are trying to figure how they can export palm oil to the U.S. We had to regretfully inform them that we knew nothing about the palm oil business. So, if anyone needs tons and tons of Cameroonian palm oil for cheap, let me know. I have Anderson's cell phone number. Oh, yeah, they also wanted to party with us, take us to the beach, and acquire cheap prostitutes for us. Maybe another time, guys.

Umm, so my time is about to run out on this computer, so I'll post more later about climbing Mt. Cameroon, getting swindled in Kumba, crazy bus rides where we had to help hold the bus upright, and our current situation in Bamenda. The computer next to me right now has an email with a monkey exporting scam to Mexico. Ahh, Cameroon.

Peter