This last weekend, I had a nice getaway with my Dutch friends to the beaches of Limbe, in the Southwest Province. As with every experience here in Africa, we had good times and bad times, and I learned a lot.
On Friday morning we headed out. As we don't have a vehicle, we took public transport- a bus. This bus was the size of the large van my family used to own- the one that seats 8. How many people were in it? 31. Also, it was almost falling apart. Needless to say, it was a tight squeeze and very very hot. The whole ride to Limbe was very uncomfortable for us Westerners. The Cameroonians had no trouble.
We traveled for 7 hours before arriving in Douala, where most passengers were destined. The bus driver refused to continue to Limbe, as only 5 travelers were headed there. Instead, he bought us a taxi. The taxi, too, was crowded, falling apart, and hot. Every 1/2 mile we had to let someone in or out, adjust, etc. The Africans were making fun of us for drinking bottled water and being stuck up White People in Pidgin, thinking I didn't understand, since most foreigners are struggling with English. BUT I UNDERSTAND PIDGIN. I let them continue for awhile; after I made a nice cutting remark when they were laughing about us washing our clothes and bathing in bottled water, they began to watch their tongues a little and were significantly nicer to us. It grew dark. An hour and a half passed before the driver announced "we're in Limbe!" and tried to unload us. Instead of dropping us at the depot, where our contact was waiting anxiously to pick us up, he was trying to leave us at a gas station in the center of town, where many bike taxis and taxis gathered to take people places and others gathered before spending the night on the town. He claimed not to know where the bus depot was. We tried to call Yvonne, our contact, but the network wasn't working and we couldn't get ahold of her. So we picked a hotel from the guidebook the dutch had brought along, and got back in the taxi, asking the driver to take us there. I called Sr. Theodosia, and she freaked out. She was screaming about how dangerous taxi drivers were at night, and demanded we go back to the gas station. I put her on the phone with the driver, and he returned us there. Then Sr. said her sister and brother-in-law were driving down from Buea to pick us up.
Buea is 45 minutes away. She wouldn't hear of us getting back in a cab, and claimed they were on their way and would come. In the meantime, we were being attacked by flies, flying ants, mosquitos, and men. The gas station was very busy, and everyone that came by tried to take us somewhere. Three white women standing in the middle of a gas station at night is not so common. It was seriously one of the most awful experiences of my life. I was hot, uncomfortable, and tired from the journey. I had dozens of bugs in my hair and flying around me. Everyone was staring and most were leering.
After an hour, Hilda and Killian arrived. We insisted they take us to the hotel, which was less than 5 minutes drive from the gas station. After many thanks, they dropped us off and we checked in. We ate a nice meal and went straight to bed, exhausted from the experience and happy to be somewhere relatively clean.
We woke up the next day and realized the place was really not that fabulous, although it is considered a top hotel by the Cameroonians. The beach was dirty and rocky, and our room was smelly and the dirty around the edges. The air conditioning didn't work, and it was at least 95 degrees at all times. Nevertheless, we wanted to have a nice vacation. Saturday was spend traveling around the area with Yvonne, our contact, in her boyfriend Ben's Mercedes. It was actually really nice and we got to see a traditional fishing village, the second wettest place on earth, and the lava flow from Mt. Cameroon. We went to the zoo, and then to Buea, where Hilda and Killian served us a grand African feast in their home. After visiting for a few hours, Ben took us back to Limbe. We paid him about $45 for gas for being our personal chauffeur for the whole day, which I'm sure is even way to much for Cameroon, but whatever. It was a really nice day, especially compared to the awfulness of Friday.
Sunday, Maud came down with something bad. We planned on going to the beach, but we needed to stay near the toilet for her sake. I was pretty disappointed, as the beaches of Limbe are famous for their fish and fun- the reason I came in the first place. Instead, we went to the Botanical Gardens and then just relaxed by the pool at the hotel. Then the men began to work. Again, three white women attract attention in this country. All of us had marriage proposals by the end of the afternoon. Mine came from a hotel worker, which was really bad because he knew where we were staying and throughout the rest of the vacation he came by the room 3 times. A man drove all the way from Douala in the evening to try and take Anna to a disco. At first it was funny, but it quickly became annoying. As one of the teachers, Prudentia, declared to me this morning, "Men have no shame".
Unfortunately, Monday meant we had to get back on the bus. It was almost worse than the ride down. We were cooking inside; no one would open the windows because they are used to the climate. The whole time, a man was standing next to our seats, trying to sell traditional medicines, and using the "white man women" as conversation and selling topics. As in "white man women don't like foul odors from man" and "white man women no wan sex when you have venereal disease", gesturing at us and trying to get us to interact, and then claiming his products could cure such ailments. Although many of the Africans found this entertaining, we found the attention unbearable and in no way could we escape it. By this time, both Anna and Maud were both sick with diarrhea. They were extra uncomfortable and I have no idea how they got through the 7 hours of hell.
By some act of God, we got to Bamenda without killing ourselves or others. Collins, the school driver and a friend of mine, was late picking us up so we had to sit around more. Being crabby, tired, sweaty, and dirty, stuck in a strange place, it was again not pleasant. Thankfully, after about an hour, we were in the car on the way home. The windows were wide open and the rain began to fall. When I finally arrived home, I was overjoyed. Sr. Theodosia ran to greet me with a giant smile on her face. I felt so comfortable, safe, and happy, after all that stress. I ate about 3 lbs of fried plantains and went to bed at 9 pm.
0 comments:
Post a Comment