Back to Blog (or Listless in Yagoua)
on Notes from Quite Far (Cameroon), 04/Aug/2009 20:20, 34 days ago
“What? No list?” At the behest of one or two readers of this blog (you know who you are) I am going to limit the number of lists that begin my entries. Instead, on occasion, there will be a (hopefully even more predictable and annoying) pun of some description. This will come as good (or possibly bad) news to those who care about such things.Well, here I am again. And after almost a year, I suppose it’s starting to feel a bit like home. Where everything once seemed strange and new, it now feels quite ordinary and familiar. The goats are still here, eating incessantly and bleating in a way that sounds almost rude. The children are exactly where I left them, milling about the place and still knocking on my gate in the hope of an empty bottle or a balloon. It makes me wonder whether they stopped knocking at all while I was away. There’s the familiar distant drone of the call to prayer. And here’s the equally familiar but all-too-nearby drone of a mosquito, infuriatingly difficult to spot even as it hums inches from my face. A little girl rides past on a donkey laden with sacks of grain, shouting “Nassara!” at me as she goes; an even littler boy tries to sell me beans from the bucket he is balancing expertly on his head; I sidestep left to avoid the motorbike heading straight towards me on the sand, and in so doing nearly fall over a pig.Yup. I’m back in Yagoua, and everything is normal.One thing has changed however. The long-awaited rainy season has arrived. The extreme north is greener, and in my opinion prettier. On the outskirts of town, sandy scrubland has given way to dense grass and millet plantations, and on market stalls, carrots and lettuce have been replaced with sweetcorn and avocado. The climate is a lot cooler, although it’s still hot by British standards. And of course, the mozzies are breeding like, well, flies. There aren’t swarms of them, but there are enough. Malaria seems prevalent so those of us affluent enough to have bug spray, fans and/or mozzie nets are making good use of them.Also enjoying the rain, humidity and bites is my sister and travelling companion for the fortnight Kathryn. It’s good to have her around and hear her take on the place and the people. The pace has been pleasantly relaxed. We’re taking it easy, not dashing around trying to fit places in. This is partly because there isn’t enough time to travel widely, partly because the rain has rendered many roads impassable, and partly because Kathryn has managed to pick up a frankly impressive number of ailments (nothing too serious, I should add – for those inclined to worry.)After staying one night in Yaounde with two extremely kind volunteers and their little girl, we caught the overnight train up north. The first time I did that journey I watched bemused from my seat every stop, as people did their shopping through the train windows. These days I’m there too, standing on someone’s seat and trying to get a good deal on pineapples. I’m still ever so slightly less graceful than the average Cameroonian, however – I bought bananas off one girl only to drop them on her head.The following morning we caught the bus back up to Yagoua, sleeping much of the way.Since then it’s been business as usual from my point of view – a night in Maroua, a little shopping at the market there, and a trip to Kaele and nearby Boboyo, where I finally saw not just one but three crocodiles. Not just a speck in the distance either –they were unmistakeably crocs. We could see them through the water down to the paddling of their feet, and there were baby ones that swam up to the surface occasionally then dived straight back down again, like tadpoles do in the garden pond. It’s always nice to go to the lake at Boboyo. It’s remote and tranquil, and hardly any of the insects will bite you. On the downside, it was sort of sad to be in Kaele now that Sid has gone. All those people who used to congregate at his house seem to have gone their separate ways, and I felt at a loss for somewhere to go and somewhere to be. It just doesn’t feel the same. (Still. Three crocodiles...)At any rate, Kathryn plans to write her own blog entry, so I will leave further details of this past fortnight to her.I do, however, have a couple of things to add before I go. Firstly, massive thanks are due once more to the Rotary Club of Holderness, and to the kindness of friends. We now have 8 more computers (5 of them newly refurbished and paid for by the Rotary Club) for teaching IT in the college and local schools, and a budget for badly-needed school equipment like chalk and pencils. More on that when term time starts again, but for now a huge thank you to all concerned!And finally, I have a new neighbour, Bronwyn. She’s a volunteer from Canada so there are now 3 white people in town. The children insist on calling both her and Kathryn “Liza”. Not sure whether it’s because they can’t distinguish between the three of us, or because “Bronwyn” and “Kathryn” are that bit more difficult to pronounce,or because “Liza” has become synonymous with “white female”. At any rate, it’s quite surreal to stand back and watch a crowd of kids flock around someone else while shouting my name. Far less hassle than actually being mobbed myself, however. Now I know why celebrities hire lookalikes.I will sign off for now, and leave you with the promise of more regular blogging from hereon in.