Girls Gone Waza and Riding the Struggle Bus - Spring Break 2009

Bon soir, tout le monde! I have been back from my spring break trip to the Extrême Nord (Far North) since Tuesday and it has taken me a while to recuperate after spending over 72 hours collectively in trains and buses. I’m going to begin by apologizing for the length of this entry but a lot happened and it was a spectacular way to spend a week and a half! We left Yaoundé on the 13th on the 6pm train, which we would be on for 17 hours to get to Ngaoundere. Thank goodness I love trains, since we spent so much time on them! I hold firm to my belief that trains are the best way to travel and see a country and this ride proved it. Believe it or not, the Cameroonian train, in a developing country, was far better than the overnight train I took from France to Switzerland on my first-ever trip abroad back in 2001. With beds made of old backseats of cars, we were living in luxury and had great views whenever it was light out our window. Four of us shared each room, and my room actually got a decent night of sleep. We woke up for breakfast (train food here is fantastic and consisted of chicken, fries, pineapple and bread for dinner and omelettes and tea for breakfast) and to discover that we were stuck due to a lack of communication on the tracks. The girls in my bunk and I spent the time giving the 3 boys who were standing outside our train window our leftovers and them trying to convince us to be their wives (they claimed they were 15 but were definitely younger!). Once communication was regained, we soon arrived in Ngaoundere and waited for a bus to take us on the 8-hour ride to Maroua.

Now, this is where the scoop on African public transportation comes in. Buses are packed to the brim, and 5 or 6 people are squished where 4 people would sit in the United States. Additionally, the bus doesn’t leave the station until it is FULL; there are not timetables. Morgan and I thought we had chosen a good seat – the one near the door they can’t fit 4 people in, but we were kicked out of it by policemen carrying AK-47s. The buses need to have police on them so that they can protect passengers from bandits, who are allegedly renowned in the Far North, although we fortunately had no run-ins. I wasn’t going to fight with a guy with such a huge gun, so we made our way to the 2nd to last row of seats and squished in with 3 others in our row for the long haul. The woman next to me, wearing a dress made of the fabric from the Pope’s recent visit, had a beard going on under her chin, and the man sitting next to Morgan sang in a girl voice. LOVE CAMEROON. I was incredibly thankful that I was not suffering from traveler’s diarrhea on this particular day, being squished in and not being able to stop often like we are able to when it is solely our group. Unfortunately this was not the case for our dear Big Ben, who did a marvelous prance and leap off the bus into the bushes (nature’s toilet) much to the delight of all the Africans aboard. All us white people just looked the other way, commiserating with him since we’ve all been there. After 8 hours we made it to our hotel in Maroua, and the lovely Morgan and I (roommates for the week thanks to sharing a suitcase) were pleasantly surprised by working air conditioners in our rooms and ostriches (behind a fence) right outside!

On Wednesday, I stayed in bed until 9, following the strict orders of Mr. Teku who did not want to see anyone out of their rooms before then. Breakfast was glorious all because of fresh mango juice! Then we all met our bus driver for the week, the FABULOUS Robert, and founded the Disabled Backseat, comprised of myself, Morgan and Harry. I absolutely cannot remember why we called it this, but it stuck throughout the trip, as the bus became the Struggle Bus after many long hours on bumpy roads (if you could call them that!). Basically, we were the cool kids that sit in the backseat. Our first stop was the Artisanal Market in Maroua, the site of the loss of all my CFAs due to some serious bargaining and shopping! The Far North is primarily Muslim and I’ve discovered that I must prefer shopping and buying from Muslims because the men don’t harass you like the non-Muslims in Yaoundé because of their religion. I wish I could have bought it all, but I did make some fantastic purchases and some headway on my gift list! I won’t tell you what I got because it could be for you, but I will tell you of my proudest purchase. The North is cow country, and thus leather country. I bought a huge brown leather school bag for next year and two beautiful leather wallets for 17000 francs, or about 35 USD! And I talked the guy down from 40000 francs! I was pretty proud. After much bargaining and a delicious lunch of ground beef with plantains, peas and tomatoes, we headed to the brand-new University of Maroua, where the president is the former Dickinson-in-Cameroon director. He invited us to his home for dinner and after a free afternoon of swimming at the hotel, we met his lovely wife who cooked us a FEAST, and hung out with his ostriches. Yeah, you know, just your normal pet.

Thursday we arose early to head off to Maga lake in the hopes of seeing hippos (I said many a prayer to ensure that we would see them, since part of Morgan’s coming to Cameroon was due to her love of hippos and I knew if we didn’t see at least one it might be the end of the world). After a bumpy ride past mud huts and women trekking long distances to the wells (the Far North is desert and water is precious – right now there is no water in the rivers!), we arrived and piled into the piroque (like a canoe mixed with a motorboat) to search for the hippopotâmes! We rode past nomadic herders from Chad with their hump-backed cows grazing along the river, and I was amazed at how these people live in temporary straw shelters under the BLAZING sun (another note: the Far North is HOT, a different hot from Yaoundé, and really dry). I could never do it. After an hour and a half or so, I was beginning to lose hope. The lake was lower than normal and the hippos weren’t in their normal hangouts. Our guide suggested turning back and at this moment, Morgan looked absolutely defeated. So Harry and I wished really hard, and half an hour later…voilà – hippos! And man were they terrifying! Hippos are I think the most deadly mammal or something like that – basically you don’t want a hippo to be mad at you. And we were in a wooden boat in the water with them, and there were a lot! They were beautiful and majestic, although a little scary (not for Morgan though!).

After snapping lots of photos we headed back to shore and got back in the Struggle Bus for an even bumpier ride on cracked earth to Waza National Park. Again thankful I don’t get carsick, we arrived in the park and pretty soon after saw our first GIRAFFE (j-raffe for Mikey)!! So one of my goals in life was fulfilled – seeing a giraffe in the wild. But then it got better – we saw antelope and tons of birds as well as jackals. And then, it got even better – we drove up to the watering hole right as two giraffes were arriving to get an evening drink! And let me just say that giraffes are possibly the most awkward animal of life – they can’t bend their knees, so the do half-splits with their front and back legs in order to bend down to refresh themselves! I loved it! After our animal spotting, we rode a while more to our home for the night – the Waza huts, complete with double-bed, electricity, a thatch roof and a fan that circulated the unbearably hot air. After a dinner of rice, tomato sauce, chicken and gumbo, I indulged in a hot shower (hot due to the heat of the desert!) and met a girl from South Africa living in the huts since January while researching the 25 lions in the park! I can’t imagine living there – it is just too hot, as we all discovered soon after stargazing (right up their on the incredible star scale with LeaderShape) when we attempted to get some sleep. It was simply too hot to sleep, and paired with sunburn, it meant an absolutely miserable night (even Mr. Teku said he didn’t sleep because he was “cooking”).

After a sleepless night, we regathered on Friday at 5:30am for breakfast before our safari, then climbed back into the bus for our wildlife-spotting adventure. After seeing probably 10 giraffes, people were ready for a change (although I was content with the giraffes!). We saw a ton of antelope and pretty much all of the birds from The Lion King, including Zazu. And then….ELEPHANTS! We came across a huge pack of elephants who were all protecting a week-old baby! It was incredibly to see all these animals in their natural habitat and an experience I’ll never forget! After safari, we ate a quick lunch and then bumped back along the road to Maroua for some more market bargaining (where we used tactics like “well you sold this to my friend the other day so this means we’re friends now and you should give my the price for friends” – all in French of course!) and swimming. After dinner and a big cuddlefest, we all turned in early for some good sleep before our next bumpy car ride.

Saturday morning, we bid Maroua adieu and commenced the 4-hour INCREDIBLY turbulent ride up into the mountains to the village of Rhumsiki. This area is known for its phenomenal peaks and the beauty of the landscape was overwhelming, particularly when compared with the surrounding poverty. We rode past family compounds comprised of many huts, signifying polygamous marriages with a house for the man and one for each wife. We saw more than enough goats, sheep and donkeys, and I am surprised our hands were still attached to our wrists after all the waving to small children we did! We arrived at our resort of a hotel in Rhumsiki mid-afternoon and found ourselves staying in air-conditioned huts with a swimming pool overlooking the grand peaks. Apparently, the first president of Cameroon had kept the place as his private getaway and when Paul Biya became president he kind of let it go, so how it’s a hotel. While holding onto the side of the ridiculously deep pool and viewing the magnificent mountains, I was overwhelmed by the contrast: down the slope from the pool was a fence separating it from a family compound. The children were watching us from the fence in between gathering water and doing their other chores. They live in such a beautiful area yet must view this glorious pool each day, and will likely never dive into its water. I don’t think I’ve ever been so close to poverty or felt so privileged, and it was shocking. Rhumsiki survives on tourism, and so I guess me swimming in this pool was in some way hopefully helping the community and these children, but who knows really.

After dinner at the hotel, we headed off to the bar with Mr. Teku, who insisted that 1000 francs for a beer at the hotel was too much (that’s about 2 bucks for a beer the size of 2 American bottles and in Yaoundé, it would cost 500 francs!). We had a good time being all together, although Mr. Teku turned out to not be very vigilant after returning to the hotel and investigating a beetle infestation in some of the girls’ huts, and left his key in Alie and Gina’s room. Being the kind man he is, he did not want to wake them, and thus slept outside all night, which we all thought was a great story the next morning upon discovering him! Once the early morning swim was out of the way, we set off for some trekking in the mountains, with the strict instructions from Mr. Teku to be vigilant and not climb any ridiculous rocks (this year was the first time in 3 years no one has had to go to the hospital in the Far North after falling on rocks!). We even crossed the border (illegally) into Nigeria for a bit, and I was surprised to see all the people from Nigeria coming to the Sunday market in Rhumsiki. With blisters from my intense shoes, I quickly jumped into the pool upon return to the hotel, and then made the mistake of sunbathing at high noon near the equator. Needless to say, I’ve got quite the sunburn-turned-tan currently. But now I look like I’ve been in Africa for almost 4 months! In the afternoon, we visited a woman who makes pottery out of clay and paints it black with a paint made from goat poop and then headed to the “crab-man sorcerer” for some telling of futures! I paid 1000 francs to ask one question, and the old man, who communicates with a crab that reads the future, interpreted the crab’s response. The crab is put in an urn and based on how it moves around the stones and pieces of broken calabash inside, your question is answered. I know it sounds incredibly sketchy, and I’m not taking the response as truth, but who knows. Diviners and sorcerers are highly respected in Cameroon, and it was definitely an experience! After all that, we saw parts of a traditional marriage (arranged, bride really young) and then headed to the Breadman’s house for dinner. He is just a village resident who makes amazing bread, and we enjoyed a 6-course meal complete with guinea fowl! I have NEVER been so stuffed in my life! Morgan and I packed all our stuff and new purchases and went to bed early, preparing for the 10 hour bus-ride to Ngaoundere the next morning – talk about Struggle Bus!

After a long bumpy ride with much traditional guitar playing and singing from Harry (“Tiptoe through the Tulips”), we made it with time to spare to Ngaoundere and caught our train to Yaoundé. I have never been so happy to be on a train for 15 hours! It was nice to stretch out and get a good sleep – something you probably think is impossible on a Cameroonian train! We arrived back in Yaoundé Tuesday mid-morning and I’ve spent the last few days catching up on sleep and enjoying not bumping along all the time. I loved the trip to the North, though – probably my favorite of my semester abroad! And now with that, I am savoring my last 30-some days here in Cameroon! It’s hard to believe I’ll be home in a month – I’m excited but know I am going to miss my family and friends here just like I miss all of you at home!

I hope all is well in your corners of the world! To all my abroad friends, savor your last weeks and months and I can’t wait to swap stories! And to all those sending me letters and cards – I love you and you don’t understand how great it is to get mail in Africa (thanks for the most recently received things Abby, Grammy and Gramp and Mom and her 1st graders!).

Thanks for reading and caring!
Love from the land of mangoes and giraffes,Kait