What to do with a pair of trousers and a couple of bibles
on Mischa in Cameroon (Cameroon), 09/Jul/2010 13:31, 34 days ago
Like me the explorer Mary Kingsley came from Islington in North London. She spent her twenties looking after her invalid parents while her brother went to Cambridge, but when they died she set off for Africa at the age of 31 and a year later arrived in Cameroon to study fish and fetishes. Despite the fact that she was in Cameroon in 1895, 114 years before I showed up, I realised when reading her account of her ascent ofMount Cameroonthat there are many things that show no sign of changing.Mary Kingsley on the state of the roadsI do not believe there is a more lovely road in this world, and besides, it’s a noble and enterprising thing of a Government to go and make it, considering the climate and the country; but to get any genuine pleasure out of it, it is requisite to hover in a bird- or butterfly- like way, for of all the truly awful things to walk on, that road, when I was on it, was the worst.[The state of theCameroonian roads, at least round Maga, has not changed at all]On the rainsI consciously attempt to keep dry, by holding up an umbrella, knowing that though hopeless it is the proper thing to do.On chieftainsChiefs commence to arrive with their families complete, and they sidle into the apartment and ostentatiously ogle the demijohn of rum. They are, as usual, a nuisance, sitting about on everything. No sooner have I taken an unclean-looking chief off the wood sofa, than I observe another one has silently seating himself in the middle of my open port-manteau. Removing him and shutting it up, I see another one has settled on the men’s beef and rice sack.[This has changed. Although I’ve had several chieftains in my house none of them have ever tried to sit in my suitcase.]On the uses of trousers and biblesRain has got into the blankets and horror! there is no pillow. The mission men have cleared their bed paraphernalia right out. Now you can do without a good many things, but not without a pillow, so hunt round to find something to make one with; find the Bible in English, the Bible in German, and two hymn-books, and a candle-stick. These seem all the small articles in the room– no, there is a parcel behind the books – mission teachers’ Sunday trousers – make delightful arrangement of books bound round with trousers and the whole affair wrapped in one of my towels. Never saw till now the advantage of Africans having trousers. Civilisation has its points after all.[I have stayed in many missions, including one gruesome Catholic mission where I slept on the floor and there was no latrine. One of the main uses of my Classics degree in Cameroon is that it has given me enough rudimentary knowledge of early Christianity that I can charm missionaries into thinking I am a good Christian.]On a German colonialist(and men in general)Unfortunately I see my attempts to appear before him clean and tidy have been quite unavailing, for he views my appearance with unmixed horror and suggests and instant hot bath. I decline. Men can be trying! How in the world is any one going to take a bath in a house with no doors and only very sketchy wooden window-shutters?[Below is me on Mount Cameroon, inspecting my blisters. I’m sure my appearance would have horrified any self-respecting German colonialist. Unlike Mary I did not carry a revolver and a cutlass up to the summit, relying on my Swiss Army Knife instead.]