After dinner I was brought to my house. It turned out that the electricity was not switched on so a person whom I later learned was the mayor’s third deputy helped me put up my mosquito net by torch-light and I went to bed, leaving it to the morning to get my bearings. To my surprise I was told that there was a guard on duty every night and that he sleeps in an adjoining shed.
By Maga standards my house is good. It has a living room, a bedroom, a shower and a flush toilet. The electricity was switched on the next day but then the water failed for a few days. When the water came back I found that there was a blockage in the drain from the shower (this has still not been fixed but I take my showers standing in a big basin). There are bats in the roof and they fly around the living room and bedroom at dusk before going out and at dawn after they return. Sometimes they get trapped between the curtain and the window and make an awful racket until I release them in the morning. They sometimes fly around during the day also. I don’t mind them but their droppings accumulate and I have heard of a person who died from rabies after being bitten by a bat so I should get something done about them. Lots of lizards, some multicoloured, come in and run around the place. Mosquitos are not much of a problem at this time of the year but I am told that they are a serious problem in the rainy season, which could start any time from late April and continue until late September.
Maga is a very quiet town with mainly Muslim people. They are very courteous and have strict protocols which they go through when they meet. They congregate in groups sitting on the ground under trees. The children are extraordinarily well behaved and are expected to do things for adults without payment, such as running to the market to buy things. The one thing that I would hold against the people is that when a white person goes shopping they multiply their prices and if you are not prepared to expend a considerable amount of time haggling you are constantly ripped off (or “bouffé”, as they somewhat impolitely call it). Happily there is a bar, “Chez Rose”, hidden away in a back street. Even some Muslims slip in there for a drink.
The range of things which one can buy here is very restricted. There is very good fish, coming from the lake which supplies the region. Given that we are approaching the end of the dry season I was surprised to find so much water in the lake. The Logone river fills the lake in the rainy season and the lake supplies water to the river in the dry season. I have watched fishermen cast small nets in canals off the lake and pull them in, usually with two or three fish per throw. Over-fishing and poaching are problems. Also the lake is man-made and has led to the drying up of many small lakes where fish used to be caught and to the elimination of some of the swamps, with a consequent loss of wildlife. I have yet to go out in the lake to see the hippos but heard that one attacked a man near Maga a few days ago and was killed by the local people. The Maga football team are referred to as the “hippos”.
A lot of beef is also available locally. The plain in which the Commune de Maga is situated and which extends north to Lake Chad is used to graze cattle. Nomadic cattle herders come here from Niger, Nigeria and Chad, covering enormous distances in search of grazing for their herds. The creation of the artificial lake has adversely affected the grazing and the availbility of watering holes for the livestock. Also some local people have established farms and have fenced off areas through which the nomads used to pass. This has given rise to conflicts with significant loss of life. In theory the state owns all the lands and levies taxes for grazing. In practice the traditional chiefs continue to allocate ownership rights in their areas.
Saturday, April 26, 2008
M. le Maire de la Commune de Maga
I was collected in Maroua by the mayor of the Maga local council and my future boss. He is a very imposing person and the girls fall for him in a big way. He is turning out to be very personable, popular, enlightened and progressive and I expect that he will make me work very hard since he has great ambitions for his locality. It consists of three small towns and their environs with a total population of 100,000. They are on the shores of Lake Maga which stretches for 25 kilometers from Guirvidig in the west through Maga to Pouss in the east. Pouss is on the Cameroon side of the Logone river and Chad is on the other side. Happily the nearest bridge is 200 kilometers away but bandits still cross by boat and have caused some deaths in towns north and south of Pouss, but not in Pouss as yet.
The journey to Maga was difficult. I met the mayor in the morning and he said that he would return shortly to collect me when he had met his wife. He has three wives and three houses, one of which is in Maga. Unfortunately he could not track down his Maroua wife until late and it was getting dark as we left. He has the rare luxury in these parts of a 4X4 jeep and a driver who always goes around in it with him and hangs around wherever he is. On a subsequent trip the mayor carried a rifle which he explained was because he was visiting some areas in the bush where bandits kidnap, rob and murder rich merchants. He comes from a warrior tribe, the Mousgoum, he has a short fuse and I certainly would not take issue with him when he has his rifle at hand! On my first trip from Maroua to Maga, after I was installed together with my luggage, and feeling squashed since there was already a lot of clutter in the jeep, three women, two children and all their clutter were somehow piled into the area behind the back seat. I think they were neighbours for whom he was doing a favour but I am not sure since although men are introduced meticulously, women are generally ignored.
The first 30 kilometers of the road were incredibly bad and the trip from Ngaoundere to Maroua paled into insignificance when compared to this (I was to find on a return trip to Maroua that they had “resurfaced” the road with earth, which is fine now since we are still in the dry season…). Happily there was extremely little traffic on the road since the area is extremely poor. After 30 kilometers the road suddenly assumed a very good surface (like an Irish road, but I am told that the rainy season will wash parts of it away). This lasted for another 30 kilometers. When I asked why this part of the road, and not the 30 kilometers nearer Maroua, was properly surfaced I was told that prior to resurfacing it was by far the worst part of the road. At this stage we stopped for Muslim prayers. We then continued on a bad road for about 15 kilometers to Guirvidig. Here we called into the mayor’s second house. After removing my shoes I sat in a very big room with sofas on every side and a big carpet on the floor. The mayor had told me that he had 13 children and I counted seating space for himself, the three wives and all the children (but this may be spurious since they usually sit on the floor). He opened a bottle of whiskey (which I expect was a huge honour, and probably rather risqué on his part) and poured me a large tumbler full. I had eaten nothing in 10 hours and politely took a few sips and explained as best I could that it couldn’t be taken in such quantities. We then continued the further 12 kilometers to Maga where he invited me to dine with him at his Maga house. This was on a carpet in the open-air and consisted of fish deliciously cooked. He also had the thoughtfulness to send his jeep around for me the next morning and bring me for breakfast (again fish) since there were no provisions in my house.
The journey to Maga was difficult. I met the mayor in the morning and he said that he would return shortly to collect me when he had met his wife. He has three wives and three houses, one of which is in Maga. Unfortunately he could not track down his Maroua wife until late and it was getting dark as we left. He has the rare luxury in these parts of a 4X4 jeep and a driver who always goes around in it with him and hangs around wherever he is. On a subsequent trip the mayor carried a rifle which he explained was because he was visiting some areas in the bush where bandits kidnap, rob and murder rich merchants. He comes from a warrior tribe, the Mousgoum, he has a short fuse and I certainly would not take issue with him when he has his rifle at hand! On my first trip from Maroua to Maga, after I was installed together with my luggage, and feeling squashed since there was already a lot of clutter in the jeep, three women, two children and all their clutter were somehow piled into the area behind the back seat. I think they were neighbours for whom he was doing a favour but I am not sure since although men are introduced meticulously, women are generally ignored.
The first 30 kilometers of the road were incredibly bad and the trip from Ngaoundere to Maroua paled into insignificance when compared to this (I was to find on a return trip to Maroua that they had “resurfaced” the road with earth, which is fine now since we are still in the dry season…). Happily there was extremely little traffic on the road since the area is extremely poor. After 30 kilometers the road suddenly assumed a very good surface (like an Irish road, but I am told that the rainy season will wash parts of it away). This lasted for another 30 kilometers. When I asked why this part of the road, and not the 30 kilometers nearer Maroua, was properly surfaced I was told that prior to resurfacing it was by far the worst part of the road. At this stage we stopped for Muslim prayers. We then continued on a bad road for about 15 kilometers to Guirvidig. Here we called into the mayor’s second house. After removing my shoes I sat in a very big room with sofas on every side and a big carpet on the floor. The mayor had told me that he had 13 children and I counted seating space for himself, the three wives and all the children (but this may be spurious since they usually sit on the floor). He opened a bottle of whiskey (which I expect was a huge honour, and probably rather risqué on his part) and poured me a large tumbler full. I had eaten nothing in 10 hours and politely took a few sips and explained as best I could that it couldn’t be taken in such quantities. We then continued the further 12 kilometers to Maga where he invited me to dine with him at his Maga house. This was on a carpet in the open-air and consisted of fish deliciously cooked. He also had the thoughtfulness to send his jeep around for me the next morning and bring me for breakfast (again fish) since there were no provisions in my house.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Maroua
Maroua is a less chaotic city than Yaounde, has almost no white people and is not cosmopolitan. It does not give an impression of much wealth but there is also less evidence of poverty (in the city itself) and there are fewer beggars. Its market is very lively and apart from this, shops are very small and restricted. There are not so many cars and motorbikes. The latter are the main form of taxi and often carry two passengers in addition to the taxi man. It is not very unusual to see a bicycle or motorbike carrying a huge load, even a bed, through busy traffic. Maroua is on the edge of a very large flat plain and has long straight streets lined by trees. It has a river which is dry at this time of the year but people dig holes in the river bed to get to water for washing themselves and their clothes.
I have spent a week training here at this stage and have liked Maroua’s atmosphere better than Yaounde’s although there is very little to do here besides going to restaurants and bars. In Yaounde there is night-life if you want it and we did spend an evening in a bar with very good music, much of it Cameroonian or of other African origin. Such entertainment is less in evidence here but the restaurants and bars are very lively. There are a few hotels, some of which have swimming pools.
Walking around Maroua at night is hazardous since there are virtually no street lamps. On one occasion I stepped into a hole just after crossing a bridge and tumbled down to the river bed. I was more or less OK but my trousers, shirt and mobile phone were not.
I have spent a week training here at this stage and have liked Maroua’s atmosphere better than Yaounde’s although there is very little to do here besides going to restaurants and bars. In Yaounde there is night-life if you want it and we did spend an evening in a bar with very good music, much of it Cameroonian or of other African origin. Such entertainment is less in evidence here but the restaurants and bars are very lively. There are a few hotels, some of which have swimming pools.
Walking around Maroua at night is hazardous since there are virtually no street lamps. On one occasion I stepped into a hole just after crossing a bridge and tumbled down to the river bed. I was more or less OK but my trousers, shirt and mobile phone were not.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Journey North
After a week’s training in Yaounde, the group of volunteers split into those going to the English speaking North West and those going to the French speaking Far North (in Cameroon as a whole it is about 80/20 French/English and there are around 250 other languages, of which Pidgin is the most common in the North West and Fulfulde in the Far North). There had been ten of us, coming from Ireland (just myself), Wales, France, Canada, India, the Philipines and Zambia, and five of us headed north. The station was as chaotic as it could be but we managed to avoid the pick-pockets and swindlers of all sorts. We had a fifteen hour train journey over night with couchettes. Before it got dark we passed through very green countryside with lots of trees and rivers but by morning the countryside was more arid, there was much less vegetation and most of the river beds were dry. The countryside was sparsely populated and the dwllings were very basic, usually consisting of mud huts with straw roof within compounds surrounded with straw walls. The train stopped at a lot of stations where people with baskets of food on their heads frantically tried to make sales through the windows. Most purchases cost of the order of 20 cents and I doubt if the vendors averaged even one sale per train.
We arrived at another chaotic station in Ngaoundere and somehow found our bus. The first four hours to Garoua were not bad but then other passengers were packed in and it was impossible to move for the next five hours in suffocating temperatures. Also on this part of the journey there were huge potholes in the road and the bus driver tried to weave his way among them, with mixed success, somehow avoiding oncoming traffic which was similarly weaving all over the road. Our luggage was piled way up on top of the bus and it was hard to know how the bus did not topple over. We passed some broken-down buses but happily our’s did not have a problem. We had one stop so that the Muslims could say their prayers after meeting their calls of nature and washing themselves scrupulously (with no loos in the stations everybody, both male and female and of whatever creed, just did what they had to do with no cover).
Christians are in a majority in the south of Cameroon (although even in Yaounde the Muslims managed to wake me every morning at 4:30 with their call to prayer) but in the Far North they are in a majority. On the bus the radio played mostly Christian religious programmes (it was Sunday) interspersed with lots of updates on soccer matches.
As we approached Maroua the countryside became flatter but with sudden hills consisting of huge rocks which must have resulted from some eruptions (Cameroon still has active volcanoes and we saw some relatively fresh lava on our journey).
Somehow we arrived in Maroua intact and on time, much to the surprise of the VSO people who were used to over-night vigils on such occasions.
We arrived at another chaotic station in Ngaoundere and somehow found our bus. The first four hours to Garoua were not bad but then other passengers were packed in and it was impossible to move for the next five hours in suffocating temperatures. Also on this part of the journey there were huge potholes in the road and the bus driver tried to weave his way among them, with mixed success, somehow avoiding oncoming traffic which was similarly weaving all over the road. Our luggage was piled way up on top of the bus and it was hard to know how the bus did not topple over. We passed some broken-down buses but happily our’s did not have a problem. We had one stop so that the Muslims could say their prayers after meeting their calls of nature and washing themselves scrupulously (with no loos in the stations everybody, both male and female and of whatever creed, just did what they had to do with no cover).
Christians are in a majority in the south of Cameroon (although even in Yaounde the Muslims managed to wake me every morning at 4:30 with their call to prayer) but in the Far North they are in a majority. On the bus the radio played mostly Christian religious programmes (it was Sunday) interspersed with lots of updates on soccer matches.
As we approached Maroua the countryside became flatter but with sudden hills consisting of huge rocks which must have resulted from some eruptions (Cameroon still has active volcanoes and we saw some relatively fresh lava on our journey).
Somehow we arrived in Maroua intact and on time, much to the surprise of the VSO people who were used to over-night vigils on such occasions.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Yaounde
I arrived in Yaounde Airport, Cameroon, on the evening of Saturday 8th March 2008, having flown from Dublin with an over-night in Paris. It turned out to be a great introduction to Cameroon since it was International Women’s Day which is celebrated in style in Cameroon. There were people everywhere, most of the women in colourful Cameroonian dress, and they were clearly in very high spirits. There had been parades and many festivities during the day and the open-air bars and restaurants were jammed. The journey from the airport to our hotel in Cameroon was my first introduction to the erratic style of driving which is endemic in Cameroon and as the bus weaved its way at break-neck speed through the traffic, with the horn blowing almost continuously, the many revellers who were wandering around the road had to fend for themselves.
The next morning my first impressions of Yaounde were of a lively city set in hilly countryside much greener than I expected. Most shops are little more than shacks and there are stalls everywhere selling various local foodstuffs, some cooked and ready to eat, and various other odds and ends. A lot of the stalls and shacks sell credits for mobile phones, provide facilities for making phone calls and occasionally provide services such as photocopying and internet access. The traffic is truly chaotic and dangerous and even when you are on the footpath you are in danger of being run down - it seems to be your own responsibility to watch out and dodge any cars or motorbikes that are using it. The one saving factor is that there are deep open drains at both sides of most streets which restrict where the cars can go, but these and other holes, all with no warning signs or barriers, present their own hazards.
Nearly all the shopping is done in the daily market, where they sell everything. I had lost the earphones for my ipod so I bought a new set there. After bargaining the price down from €4 to €1.50 I brought them back to my hotel only to find that they did not work. We went to the zoo which was really interesting since it covered wildlife that we could see in Cameroon. Even in Yaounde itself there were big birds of prey soaring overhead but I don’t know enough to decide whether they were kites, buzzards or eagles, or all of these. Also down the road from our hotel there were some trees full of bats the size of jackdaws which took off with great clamour at dusk.
Although there are signs of poverty everywhere, the people dress very well and are very friendly. Many of the dwelling areas look to us like shanty towns but I am not sure that they are that bad in reality. There was less begging than I expected but we were continuously warned about pick-pockets. The food is very good although it is usual to find that quite a number of things on the menu are not in stock. They have lots of fish, and chicken and beef are the main meats. They cook vegetables, such as plantains and yams, in several different and appetising ways. The beer is fine but I quickly gave up on the “wine” (in fact I have drunk less alcohol in the past ten days than at any time in the past forty years, but my consumption of water is massive).
The heat in Yaounde was not as bad as I expected. There was fairly high humidity, there were a few violent storms and mosquitos were a problem at night.
The next morning my first impressions of Yaounde were of a lively city set in hilly countryside much greener than I expected. Most shops are little more than shacks and there are stalls everywhere selling various local foodstuffs, some cooked and ready to eat, and various other odds and ends. A lot of the stalls and shacks sell credits for mobile phones, provide facilities for making phone calls and occasionally provide services such as photocopying and internet access. The traffic is truly chaotic and dangerous and even when you are on the footpath you are in danger of being run down - it seems to be your own responsibility to watch out and dodge any cars or motorbikes that are using it. The one saving factor is that there are deep open drains at both sides of most streets which restrict where the cars can go, but these and other holes, all with no warning signs or barriers, present their own hazards.
Nearly all the shopping is done in the daily market, where they sell everything. I had lost the earphones for my ipod so I bought a new set there. After bargaining the price down from €4 to €1.50 I brought them back to my hotel only to find that they did not work. We went to the zoo which was really interesting since it covered wildlife that we could see in Cameroon. Even in Yaounde itself there were big birds of prey soaring overhead but I don’t know enough to decide whether they were kites, buzzards or eagles, or all of these. Also down the road from our hotel there were some trees full of bats the size of jackdaws which took off with great clamour at dusk.
Although there are signs of poverty everywhere, the people dress very well and are very friendly. Many of the dwelling areas look to us like shanty towns but I am not sure that they are that bad in reality. There was less begging than I expected but we were continuously warned about pick-pockets. The food is very good although it is usual to find that quite a number of things on the menu are not in stock. They have lots of fish, and chicken and beef are the main meats. They cook vegetables, such as plantains and yams, in several different and appetising ways. The beer is fine but I quickly gave up on the “wine” (in fact I have drunk less alcohol in the past ten days than at any time in the past forty years, but my consumption of water is massive).
The heat in Yaounde was not as bad as I expected. There was fairly high humidity, there were a few violent storms and mosquitos were a problem at night.
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