De White Stuff

Two blog posts in one day! How exciting J Friday was the big day. It was time for us to go visit the village of Boa Bakundu. We were supposed to leave the Amin’s house at 9:00 AM sharp to arrive at the village by 9:30. However, we didn’t leave until sometime after 10. (I guess this is the concept of African time)

This trip was my first ride with Elvis. Elvis is a taxi driver. His steed of choice is a late 80s or early 90s 2 door Toyota Camry. (Toyota produced a long-lasting and rugged Camry, as any visitor to Cameroon will attest) The car doesn’t have inside door panels and the windows barely rolled up. The backseat was torn and I am pretty sure it wouldn’t pass inspection in the US. It was a bumpy ride on what I can only describe as the worst road on which I have ever ridden. Surprisingly, it is one of the major roads out of Kumba. From now on I will refer to it as the Minefield of Car-Swallowing Potholes Road, or MCSPR for short.

Then, I encountered the small cowpath that led to the village itself. It was even worse as we bounced and plowed toward our destination. As we neared the village, we saw village ocada, or motorcycle riders, riding toward us. The village had sent them to search for us, assuming we had gotten lost along the way. These ocada formed the front of our “parade” into the village. A group of school students led us by song and dance toward the chief’s house. We felt like some kind of celebrities in the back of that beat up car.

The reception began with introductions. First, the MC introduced the village chief, council members, water committee representatives, and respected elders. Then, James introduced the three of us from Dayton University (as the villagers called it). Mr. Benjamin explained how we came about choosing the Boa Bakundu project. Villagers surrounded the whole porch of the chief’s house. There was no breeze to be felt at all. After the introductions, the same singing group returned to the porch where we were seated. They sang a song which I can only guess was called “Welcome to Boa Bakundu.” In Cameroon, it is customary to give a dancer or singer a small donation to let them know that you appreciate them. During the songs, villagers would place money at the feet or on the forehead of the group leader. I was chosen to represent the ETHOS group. So I danced my way up to the group leader (to much laughter from the surrounding mob of villagers) and placed some Central African Francs on his head.

Our next stop was the site of the water storage tanks. We piled into the back of Elvis’s car once again and made our way up an even worse road to the tank site. The path passed directly through the two largest trees I have ever seen. Each tree was at least 6 feet in diameter. I can’t imagine how long it would have taken to cut the road through them. The tanks are nearing completion. The last items to be finished are plastering the walls and adding a roof. The village will use two tanks to increase capacity (the village somehow suddenly grew from 4500 to 7000 villagers??) and allow for one tank to be in use during periodic cleanings. We did not have the chance to see the catchment because it is a short trek away. On our way back down to the village, Elvis’s car miraculously carried 12 people in and on top of it. No car should be able to do that.

Next stop was our new digs in Boa Bakundu. When I say new, I mean the last of the concrete was still drying when we visited. Our place has 3 separate lockable bedrooms: 1 for Brian and Mark, 1 for Julius (He requested me as a roommate. We already have a secret handshake that looks eerily similar to the Chris Wright/Charles Little Flight Club handshake ;)), and the final one reserved for Karine who will be the house mom for ETHOS again this year. The living quarters also has a large common area for eating, conversing, and holding meetings.

We held the first working session for the project in the big common room. The committee and various community leaders were there to discuss the schedule of the project. There were some heated words, but the consensus became clear. Benjamin, Mark, Brian, and I will survey the proposed route on Monday. On Tuesday, one quarter from the village will begin digging the trench while we run a string to mark its location. On Wednesday, all quarters will begin digging in full force. The village leaders agreed that all digging will be finished within two weeks.

After the work session finished up, we headed back to the chief’s house for a meal and to say our goodbyes. The meal was good other than the meat (which on second thought may have been all fat) which was very chewy. I had another “33 Export” (quickly becoming my beer of choice here). At the meal, both James and the chief spoke about how the villagers must work very hard to accomplish this goal. I also got my first taste of the famed “white stuff,” or palm wine. It is even better than Mark made it out to be. I sipped down my first cup with ease.

The finale of the day was a traditional African dance complete with costumes. One person wore burlap sacks from head to toe (how they didn’t die from the heat, I’ll never know), and two others wore palm leaf skirts and hats. All of them had their faces covered. We danced with them from the porch to the waiting vehicles and were on our way. Everyone waved at us, but only after a white man waved at them first. I guess we are still pretty scary, especially to the little children.

The ride home was anything but ordinary. It began raining soon after we hit the main road. The clay road turned into a soupy mess. Rain leaked all over us through Elvis’s car. The car also stalled a few times before Elvis was forced to stop and get some oil. Then, we managed to get stuck climbing a hill in the mud. Eventually, we made it over the hill only to encounter our final obstacle, the police.

The police stopped us at a checkpoint very close to Kumba. The most likely reason for stopping us was to get a bribe from the “rich” whites in the car. The police said they stopped us because they thought Benjamin was snapping pictures of them. The argument got very heated. It was a little bit scary. But I felt safe because we had James, Julius, and Derrick on our side. Eventually we were allowed to pass. I take it for granted passing easy from place to place in the US. When you are a white in Cameroon, you don’t go on any trip without a native and your passport handy.
Last evening was very relaxing. It rained most of the night so we chose not to go out to experience Kumba’s nightlife. We played cards yet again. However, this time we played a team game called signs. The object of the game is to let your partner know when you have 4 of a kind via a physical or verbal sign. It was very fun. I also introduced Clinton and Brandon to American football. I tried to teach them some more about it this afternoon with the football I brought with me. However, it ended up turning into a modified form of rugby. I guess the NFL should start slow if they ever want to go into Africa.

Today we traveled to the market to buy some supplies to take to the village on Monday. These supplies included: toilet paper, fruit drink mix, 2 shovels, 2 pickaxes, string, and bed sheets (for future reference: buy spray paint in Duoala, there is none in all of Kumba). The market was very crowded and had almost everything you could want (except spray paint). Everyone in Cameroon bargains. No price is set in stone and people expect you to bargain with them.

Tonight I hope to enjoy more of Kumba in a different setting. We will probably go to a few of the many bars and possibly hit up one of the two nightclubs in town. Sunday will be a day of preparation and relaxation. We leave early Monday morning for the village. We plan to stay there all week and through next weekend. This may be my last post for quite some time. I hope you all enjoy reading about my experiences in Cameroon thus far. (Thanks for all the wonderful comments :))