The journey to Maroua
on Tales from a Mud Hut (Cameroon), 10/Sep/2008 13:16, 34 days ago
Djabbama!  I'm finally in Maroua after nearly thirty hours' travelling by bus and train.  The journey would have been unbearable were it not for the awe-inspiring scenery that we passed through - mere words cannot do justice and my photos are all blurry but suffice to say I'm beginning to understand why somany people fall in love with Africa.  Over the course of a single journey the view from my window changed from rainforest to savannah and then to desert, with occasional pockets of civilisation in the form of conical huts made of straw and mud bricks.  I managed to somehow involuntarily cause an incident on the train.  Shortly after we departed from Yaounde, a waiter came to our carriage to place orders for dinner.  I wasn't overly hungry, yet faced with an overnight journey I thought it might be wise to eat something and so I ordered ndole-chevre (a spinach-like vegetable served with goat's meat).  The waiter returned after a few moments to inform me that there was no ndole but that he could serve me goat's meat on its own.  As I had been regretting my decision to eat I took the opportunity to cancel my order.  He appeared upset by this and repeated that the goat's meat was available.  I told him that I wasn't hungry.  He gave me a slightly hurt look and left.Half an hour later a steaming plate of goat's meat was placed under my nose.  Surprised, I reminded the waiter that I had cancelled my order.  'Yes,' he replied, but the chef had already prepared your food and so you have to accept it.'  Having argued down the price of a beer in French earlier in the week I felt confident of my confrontation skills and so refused to takethe tray, reminding him that this wasn't even the dish I had ordered.  'You're being very rude,' said the waiter.  By now our stand-off had acquired a small but rapt audience.  My waiter took advantage of this and repeated again, loudly, 'It's extremely rude not to take this food.  What do youexpect me to do with it?'  I was tempted to give him some suggestions but felt that this would not help matters.  There followed a prolonged battle of wills in which the waiter proffered his tray before me and repeated how rude I was, and I shook my head and muttered apologies.  He finally left in disgust.The remainder of the journey passed without mishap, and we arrived in Maroua on Monday evening.  I'll save my description of the city until I've had a chance to properly explore but from the brief tour we had yesterday it seems like a nice place.  I still don't have a house and might have to stay a little longer at the Baptist Mission where VSO have placed us for our second week of training.  We've also had some basic training in Fulfulde, the local language - mi wolwata Fulfulde amma mi don ekkita - and I'm hoping to start proper classes soon.  'Work' starts next week apparently, although nobody is as yet completely sure what we're expected to do.  But I'm sure all will be revealed in due course - as they're fond of saying in Cameroon, time is flexible.