Yer man in Cameroon

My heart is in Cameroon

2008-07-06T08:35:00.001-07:00

It has been fun doing this, by this i mean living in Cameroon for six months and experiencing the culture. I have learned so much about Africa, life and humanity that i'm amazed that my old brain has been able to store it all.

I remember being five years old and watching live aid with my sister, Yolanda. It was 1985 and there was a famine in Ethiopia. Between all the music it would cut to shots of malnourished children and people sitting around too tired to wipe the flies away from their eyes. I remember realising for the first time that there were people in the world who had nothing, and they were dying. It was hard for me to get my head around it but i'll cite this time as the moment i realised about Africa and the problems it was facing.

I marched through the streets of Edinburgh with a million other people in support of The Make Poverty History campaign to write off third world debt and increase spending on aid. That was an amazing day and i could feel sparks of something in the air that i couldn't put my finger on. Hope.

I was at the Live 8 gig at Murrayfield stadium in Edinburgh the day before the G8 summit. Nelson Mandela spoke to 90,000 people in a live video link and urged the leaders to embrace change and listen to the voice of the majority. It really was an incredible time and it made me feel proud to be part of the human race that day. We were all united for a common goal and i'd never experienced that before.

Then the bastards bombed London the very next day. Many people were killed and the spotlight shifted to that tragic event. I remember being extremely worried about my pal Phil, who lived in London at the time, he was okay but i felt so f!@#ing angry about the world and the people in it. I felt hopeless and sad for humanity when just the previous day i'd felt the most exhilerated i'd felt about things ever. That night i went on the internet and started searching for an NGO in Africa to volunteer with, now here i am.

I have always wanted to come here and in the future i would like to work for an international aid agency. My time here has opened my eyes and clarified all the preconceptions i held. Of course, it's a big continent and i have only experienced a tiny fraction of it, but now i know how i can help and i now know that i've got it in me to do it. I see practical steps to move forward.

If you've been reading this blog i want to say to you now, you should do it yourself. People say that not everyone can, but more people need to. Please give yourself to this wonderful continenet, your presence and your skills can help in all manner of ways. Please consider it. It'll be frustraing sometimes and you'll feel like you are banging your head against a wall. Time moves at its own pace here, but things are changing and you could (Should?) be part of it.

Meredith and i once discussed if we should write a final post when we get back home, we agreed that we shouldn't do that as this was intended only for my time here. Please check back though as i am going to overload this thing with pictures to all these stories i have told you.

So this is my final post, i don't know what i'm going to do with all the spare time that i'll have when not waiting for the internet to crawl up to speed, maybe i'll write a book, ha ha.

This has been an African blog and this has been an African adventure.

And this is Yer Man in Cameroon

Jason Wringe, signing off.

Mine's a pint mate.

Bye di Bye Bye

xxxxx

Friends like these

2008-07-05T03:47:00.000-07:00

Meeting new people is always fun and interesting, and i've met so many people from all over the world in the past six months.

Cameroonians (obviously) Dutch, Danish, Canadian, French, German, Nigerian, Vietnamese, Austrian, Estonian and people from all over the U.S.A. Really it's been a lot of fun and i've felt like a citizen of the world as i've experienced many different cultures and opinions.

I'm going to miss Ines a lot when i leave but i'm confident things are beginning to go her way as she has a new job and a more positive outlook on life. I'm sure she will be fine and i'm positive i'll see her again soon armed with more french phrases.

I'm going to miss Christel and Raul who built their orphanage here. I hope it all works out for them cause what they're planning to do is inspiring.

I'll miss Victor, a Nigerian in Cameroon, himself an ex-UAC volunteer who stayed in the country to open an internet cafe. He's a young guy but already has a fascinating life tale to tell. I'm confident his business will be a success.

I'll miss all the wee kids, who are just so fun and cool and sweet. I'll miss my friend Frederique who has fascilitated my beer consumption for the past six months.

I'll miss Cameroon in general. There is a lot going on here politically and i'll keep a keen eye on what transpires with this Biya character. I hope the new Jamadianle school gets completed by 2011, this is when i'd like to come back.

But i have been missing some of the people who have been reading this blog. My feelings are quite bittersweet at the moment. Ho Hum.

Born on the fourth of July

2008-07-04T03:44:00.000-07:00

The Americans, who are based in Mamfe, came back to Buea on Tuesday. They stayed for a night then left for Yaounde to go to the American embassy for a fourth of July shindig. They've probably been living it up poolside eating beautiful food and rubbing shoulders with all kinds of bigwigs singing 'God bless America' and slapping each other on the back in a patriotic frenzy.

They come back tomorrow so they will be able to attend the first of my leaving do's with my friends at Abidjan (Where else could i have it but there?) That should be fun and wicked to boot. Then on Sunday it is my second leaving do at the Orock house. Such is the tradition when volunteers leave, there will be food and lots of speeches (What can i say?). Tonight we are going out for a boogie to some live Makossa music. Splendid.

This last week i have been realising all the things that i'm going to do for the last time. The last time i'll buy a six pack of tangui mineral water, the last time i travel up the mountain to go to the bank and most pleasing of all, the last time i scrub my laundry by hand before i return to the land of washing machines. With all these parties coming up, i have no idea when my last Cameroonian beer will be though ha ha.

In other news...I was walking home the other day when i witnessed a taxi crash into a parked car. I looked over and i seen the driver moving but i thought he was just pulling the steering wheel round to reverse out of the smash. Then everybody started panicking as he was actually convulsing. I ran over and dragged him from the car and he was vomiting and this dude in an act of desperation starts giving him chest compressions. I was shouting at him to stop as the guy was still breathing and clearly had a pulse, but the guy wouldn't stop pumping on his chest!! I eventually had to drag him off and shout at the top of my voice "HE'S STILL ALIVE MAN!!!!" It was the closest i'll ever get to being a doctor. I thought he might be having an epileptic fit or he was in aniphilactic shock or something but a friend of his said he doesn't have epilepsy neither is he allergic to anything. Having made my diagnosis, we got the guy in a taxi to the hospital and i told the driver to tell my doctor colleagues that he has been poisoned. I've heard from another taxi driver that he is ok, so all's well that ends well.

Bit of excitement that i had to indulge there.

It's a kind of magic

2008-07-03T06:48:00.000-07:00

You just have to read a newspaper or just look at the world to see that people believe in crazy things. Superstion, folklore, beliefs and myths are universal, they vary wildly depending on where you go but they all have one thing in common, they are beliefs without evidence.

A vast majority of Cameroonians that i have met believe in witchcraft, the mammywater (that's mermaids to you and i) Curses, totems, jojo's and black magic.
Ines, her brother Gildas and her friend, Kevin and i often debate all these things. They seem to think that i have trouble believing their rather lavish tales because i haven't seen black magic with my own eyes. But the problem is half the time they haven't seen it either!! They've just heard a story of a story of a guy who sneezed as he walked past a dog who asked him to follow him to a kid down a well who then knew a fascinating tale of a guy who can fly in a matchbox. It's so vague sometimes but they are convinced, and they don't know why my logical mind isn't.

For example, the mammywater, the people of the sea who drag people under when they are in the water.

"Don't people just drown when they can't swim?" says i.
"No, it's the mammywater"
"Has anyone ever seen one?"
"Well yes, but they are all dead"

I don't care how level headed or logical you are, it's hard to argue against that.
They promised to let me meet a guy who can make things dissapear, he can take things out your pocket without you noticing (he must be quite the Derren Brown fan) and he can also make you need a pee by touching you, an odd wee collection of skills to put on yer C.V that. I've not met him yet likes but hopefully i can meet him before i go, he sounds like a laugh.

It's so fascinating and i could talk about much more stuff but i can already feel myself getting frustrated just thinking about them, so i'm not going to.

Hey where's my money gone???
Why do i need another piss? I just went five minutes ago!!

Being a minority

2008-07-02T04:04:00.000-07:00

For the first time in my life i am a minority, i am a white man.

My friends and i were individuals at school, but we chose to be that way, we chose not to be a walking fashion label and we chose to listen to good music. This seperated us from the crowd on our own vilition.

But here my skin seperates me from the crowd and that is a new experience for me. Everybody and i mean everybody stares at me, not in a nasty way, but in a curious way. People are intrigued by the way i talk (Sometimes they're not even sure if i'm speaking english, but i just need to go to England to expreience that, ha ha) People also think i'm a millionaire because of my skin colour and a white man tax is added to everything i try to buy. These are pre-conceived notions about white people and once they get to know you everybody including me, realises that our differences are far outnumbered by our similarities.

The people of Cameroon are very, very religious, yer man Jesus is the main man round here. This has been my first experience of living in a pious society and it has been endlessly fascinating and it has provided me with many an interesting debate. God knows how many people are praying for me here.

I've made many friends and i've understood what Cameroonians have to face on a day to day basis. I've felt what it's like to be a minority and its opened my eyes to all the privelages i've had in my life. Without wanting to be too melodramatic, i will never take things for granted again and i will see life from a new perspective for the rest of my days.

Literature list

2008-07-01T01:07:00.001-07:00

As i've said in a previous post, once all the work is done through the day there are three options to spend the evening, exercise, drink or read. Here are all the books i have read in past six months.

1.A Spot of Bother - Mark Haddon
2.Red Dragon - Thomas Harris
3.Hannibal - Thomas Harris
4.Hannibal Rising - Thomas Harris
5.The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
6.Cather in the Rye - J.D Salinger
7.Angela's Ashes - Frank McCourt
8.A Monk Swimming - Malachy McCourt
9.To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
10.Lady Chatterley's Lover - D.H Lawrence
11.Cry the Beloved Country - Alan Paton
12.Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
13.The Red Pony - John Steinbeck
14.Shampoo Planet - Douglas Coupland
15.Atonement - Ian McEwan
16.De Niro: A biography - John Baxter
17.House of Sand and Fog - Andres Dubus 111
18.The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn - Mark Twain
19.The Memory Keeper's Daughter - Kim Edwards
20.Long Walk To Freedom - Nelson Mandela
21.Contact - Carl Sagan
22.Cosmos - Carl Sagan
23.Death Warrant - Will Pearson
24.Our Man In Havana - Graham Greene
25.The Life and Times of the Thunderbolt Kid - Bill Bryson
26.The Autobiography of Bertrand Russell:The Middle Years:1914-1944 - Bertrand Russell
27.Communal Liberalism - Paul Biya
28.Tesla:Man out of time - Margerat Cheyney
29.Paco's Story - Larry Heineman
30.The Brethren - John Grisham
31.20,000 leagues Under the Sea - Jules Verne
32.The Bourne Identity - Robert Ludlum
33.Dear Theo:The Autobiography of Vincent Van Gogh - Irving Stone
34.Tess of The D'urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
35.AIDS and HIV in Perspective - Barry D. Schoub
36.All Quiet on the Western Front - Erich Maria Remarque

That works out at a book every five days, which is pretty good reading for me as i normally read two books a month.

Images of Africa

2008-06-30T02:09:00.000-07:00

So i conducted a wee experiment last night where i shut my eyes and thought about the past six months of my life in Cameroon. Here are the main memories that i scribbled down.

Stepping of a plane in Douala to the blistering heat and a chancer in ripped jeans claiming to be the passport inspector asking to see my passport.....Buying watermelon off a wee girl who had them perched on her bonce in a busy market.....Seeing Mount Cameroon for the first time after it had been shrouded in clouds for three weeks.....Flying through the jungle on a dirt road in a death mobile with eight other people.....Walking with Ines and her son to the house of a Rastafarian.....Meeting Kait for the first time and showing her how to lock the door.....saying something meaningful to a deaf person for the first time in my life.....Valerie and i getting hugged by fifty kids at the Jamadianle nursery school.....Children carrying chickens in bags.....A tarantula climbing up my bathroom wall and a flash of recognition on my behalf that yes, i do have mild arachnophobia.....Seeing a shooting star for the first time ever and making a wish.....Dancing to Makossa in Mamfe.....A red Colobus monkey silhouetted against the sky.....Sitting under an avocado tree in Buea university discussing politics.....Watching the sun set over the Atlantic ocean sipping on a beer.....Staring up at the forest canopy whilst floating on my back.....Hearing gunshots and tear gas and almost pooping my pants.....Chasing baby Clara round a table.....Going to Limbe with Meredith and Ernest and the door to the bus falling off.....Snapping Ines as she had her first ever slice of pizza.....Looking into a witch doctors eyes and wondering if he really believes what he is saying.....Teaching for the first time with thirty confused faces staring back at me.....Driving down a mountain road into Bamenda.....Being humbled by everybody at the Buea school for the deaf when i donated some books.....The kids in Bokova all cheering when we arrived for school on wheels.....Watching the coolest thunderstorm that lit up the entire sky.....

I'm sorry if some of that didn't make sense but it was nice for me to remember all those times.

Bye bye Berit

2008-06-27T02:38:00.001-07:00

Cameroonians like a shindig, their celebrations are not done by halves. Funerals can last up to a week and if you get married forget about a honeymoon, you've got a million hands to shake.

Yesterday, Berit's leaving do at the Orock house was not the first party we had to attend. Sam, a nice boy in the neighborhood with a promising artistic talent, invited us to his house for his Aunts graduation from teachers training college.

We said our hellos and shook hands with everybody and i impressed them with my Pidgin English. The lady of the hour showed us her prizes she took including 'Best all round student'. I believe i said congratulations about 97 times. They sat us down and gave us popcorn and beer and we watched as the old granny of the house danced about singing a song of praise with the rather humorous line 'Finally, finally, finally the Lord has done it'. Yes well done to Jesus and to the future teacher for all her hard work and study.

We said our goodbyes and congratulations a further 64 times and headed into the night towards the Orock house. The tradition for a volunteers send-off is a good bit of grub and beer then we all give speeches, but this time there was even entertainment in the form of the wee girls putting on a dance and song about that lovely man Jesus, it was all very sweet. Berit was presented with a lovely African dress and it was a nice end to the evening.

We were all partied out and when i was sitting on the porch i thought about all the volunteers who have come and gone and all their leaving parties that i have been to, Well now i was the next volunteer leaving and the next party would be mine, and that prospect scares me a little.

I feel free

2008-06-21T04:11:00.000-07:00

When i get up every morning under the African sky i never know what's going to happen to me.

Yesterday i got up and did my laundry then i went to the internet. When i came home i started having vicious stomach cramps, so i knew my day would be spent in the company of my porcelin friend. I had really bad sickness and diaorreaha, It was truly awful.

I have been taking some traditional medicine that Ines' Mum made fom me, it is made from Guinness and some herbs, it has a dark mint-green colour and it was supposed to help me with my yeast problem. Maybe it helped me by totally cleansing my system, as i sit in an internet cafe here in Buea, i do feel a lot better if not extremely dehydrated.

Tomorrow i go to Mamfe again and i just don't know what's going to happen. It's exciting living like this, now that i'm not shackled to the toilet and other constraints in life, i feel completely free....

The internet in Mamfe is not what Bill Gates dreamt of, so i will be back in 5 days or so with more news.

Toodle pip

Buea Boy

2008-06-20T02:49:00.000-07:00

The Buea boy is back in town. It's always nice to get back to Buea and see everyone again. All the kids at the Orock house greet me warmly and Frederique 'my friend' at Abidjan actually hugged me, just overjoyed to see me again, it's all rather lovely.

This last month has just dissapeared. I've done so much and had so much fun and the time has flown by. Now time is running out.

The thing i have to do now is start thinking about what i have to do before i leave. Mainly buy a few more presents for everyone and print a few hundred photos of people here (a stipulation of snapping someone is you must give them a copy). I want to try and get that done before i go to Mamfe on Sunday. I also have to work on a new fundraising proposal for UAC and send about a million emails to charities and donar organisations. I also have to write a report for Africa Trust about my stay here.

Ahhhh!!! I'm running out of time!!!

Nice story today. I had just finished scrubbing my laundry and i was sitting relaxing listening to me ipod on the porch when Sandra, one of the cute wee kids in the neighbourhood came to say hello. I let her listen to a track of the new Jose Gonzalez album and she listened to the whole track intently. She was fascinated by it and when she had finished she said "He sounds sad, but sad things can be beautiful" Which i thought was incredibly profound for a nine year old girl.

Bamenda

2008-06-18T07:28:00.000-07:00

Bamenda is cool, i like Bamenda. It is affectionately termed 'Russia' by Cameroonians due to its climate, but the temperature is fine by me as i'm not sweating bullets 24/7. There's been a nice breeze today and a bit of drizzle. Lovely weather.

We went on a wee tour today, we visited the old town and a giant market. Men clicked their fingers at me and blew me kisses to try and get my attention and business.

"Oh White! What do you want, what do you need?"
"Nothing thanks, as you're selling illegal pharmaceutical drugs, good-day to you sir"

I bought some gifts for friends and family (not street paracetamol) and we wandered through the brown streets to an old bar for an afternoon beer.

Bamenda lies in a natural basin surrounded by cliffs and mountains, there are two waterfalls visable from most parts of the city, it's quite a spectacular site. There is only one road into the metropolis and it's a steep one, the hill is at such a deathly gradient that they have built a run-off crash ramp at the bottom of it incase your brakes fail on the way down. Ingenious.

Someone who is of a cynical mindset could look at cities in Cameroon and come to the conclusion they are shabby, tired and dilapidated. Not me though, i like them. The buildings and huts that jut out of the land fill the space in a versatile and oblique way, it's like they are part of the earth, the cities are organic.

The roads are bloody terrible though....

Ines and i were sitting having a beer the other day when we witnessed a car fall into a hole!! People all scrambled round to push it out. Normality. Much of the damage on the roads has been the effect of the fuel strike where crazy boys decided to set alight to tires on the tarmac. It all adds up to a bumpy, perilous ride in a taxi.

Bamenda is also home to the 'Social Democrat Front' (SDF) who are the main opposing party tp Paul Biya's 'Cameroon Peoples Democratic Movement' (CPDM). Ebiebi is the leader of the SDF and we visited his craft shop today. The motto of the party is "Power to the people" and never have John Lennons' words been more meaningful. I bought an old drunk a beer the other night and he gave us his tale of woe about Biya's Cameroon. "That man in Yaounde has given us nothing, we work and work and we have nothing" These sentiments are widely held in places like Bamenda.

So i leave tomorrow back to Buea. I've had fun playing with Ines' sun Paul and her wee two year old cousin Ryan. They think i'm their own personal clown, everything i do is apparently hilarious to them. Ines' mother has been very hospitable and i've ate really well.

I'm going to say goodbye to the place this evening when Ines and i go find a restaurant that sells pizza. I'll see Bamenda by night.

Back to the future

2008-06-17T03:25:00.001-07:00

The mist on the mountain was thick, gray and heavy so we lit some candles. Alfred was ready to tell me my future and i was ready to hear it.

I sat in front of him in his traditional mud house. I was asked to sit perfectly straight and to not fold my arms or cross my legs. He brought out a small container holding corries, cola-nut shells and old beer bottle tops. He presented the container to me and asked that i put my hand over it. He then poured the contents and they scattered erratically on the mud floor. He ran his fingers over the pieces then looked me straight in the eye, it was incredibly intimidating but also fascinating at the same time. He looked back at the scattered assortment of flotsam on the floor and exuded an ominous grumbling.

He did not speak English so Ines translated from Pidgin, it was time to ask him some questions. I first of all asked what i was going to do when i left Cameroon. He said what i'm doing is very important here and when i go back i may have to leave again as someone will want me to work for them. I am also going to get a promotion and maybe work for the government.

I asked him will i ever get married? He gave me a wry smile and said 'why do you ask questions that you already know the answer to'. Will i have any kids? Back to the floor studying the chaos, a grumbling sound emitted then he stared at me and said 'yes, you will have a girl then a boy'. I asked him about my family, he said my sister Yolanda will go traveling and when she returns she will have a baby.

This was all pretty specific so i decided to inquire if i will ever get to see the world? A look, a grumble and a stare 'No' was his simple disappointing reply.

'What will happen to my friends?' He asked for a name and the first person i could think of was Phil. He said Phil will do well in life but he will have an accident, it will not be serious, but if he's not careful, it will happen.

As though this wasn't surreal enough a wee baby goat wandered into the room and stared at me, it then walked over to the candle on the floop and i had to stop it from burning its nose.

Now let me say that the universe is a pretty awesome place and all the secrets of why we are here are not yet defined, despite what the good books say. The world is magical and abundant with mystery. However, i don't believe we as humans have magic powers. I don't believe in miracles because they are illogical and have no place in a universe that has stringent laws of nature at its very core. So when a man looks at some shells and bottle tops and claims to see the myriad of possibilities and consequences that occur to shape the future, i'm afraid i become skeptical. This is something Ines and i debate quite frequently and no matter how many stories she has heard will convince me. It's all wish-thinking and we all can dream pretty big when we put our minds to it.

So i have seen an African witch doctor which is pretty cool, something to tell the grandkids sometime in the unwritten future.....

Scotland in Cameroon

2008-06-16T11:33:00.000-07:00

So i was awoken yesterday at the rude hour of 5.30A.M to get the bus to go see the witch doctor, Alfred. We took a packed wee bus into the highlands outside Bamenda to a small village named Babongu. We were stopped on the way by police looking for hand-outs. He seen me in the front seat and greeted me 'Bonjour Monsieur le blanc', funny guy, there's yer money pal, lets go.

We drove for about an hour through the most amazing landscape. There were high, jaggy volcanic mountains that seemed out of place amongst the vast, flat planes. I watched the sun climb in the sky as we climbed up picturesque hills and valleys. It reminded me of Scotland with the green mountains, the only things that were different were the trees and the climate.

Our old bus chugged up the bumpy road into Babongu and from there it would be a four hour hike into the mountains to a village called Oku - the residence of the witch doctor, Alfred.

As we got out the bus the old character that was the driver tried to charge 1500CFA per person despite the fact that Ines and her mum always pay 1300CFA, we eventually got him to play fair and drop the white man tax, which he did grudgingly.

Ines, her mother, her sister Emily and me started strolling through Babongu. They said the town was known for the wickedness of its inhabitants so i just smiled and waved at the faces consumed with fixed, fascinated stares at this Scottish white man who had decided to wander into town. It felt like everyone was staring at me, because they were. I have kind of gotten used to people staring at me in Africa, white men are a minority here and to see one is very rare unless you're in a big city. People are usually like 'Oh there's a white man', but here people were like 'HOLY MOTHER OF JESUS, LOOK THERE'S A BLOODY WHITE MAN!!!' It was a pretty strange feeling.

We began the hike up the mountain to Oku. It was a beautiful day and thanks to the altitude, not too hot. We climbed through the most awesome, picturesque scenery, it was the highlands of Scotland with mosquitoes. For a few moments i forgot myself and i was glad to be home. The ascent was pretty tough but we stopped regularly and i dipped my face in a stream from a waterfall that fell from high up above us. We ate delicious sardine sandwiches and some avocado to keep us going. We climbed on.

After about four hours we reached the tiny village of Oku high in the mountains of Cameroon. News quickly spread that there was a white man in town and people peered and peeped from windows and kids stopped and stared with fixed expressions of wonder as i passed. A wee baby started crying when i looked at her, i was probably the first white person she had ever seen and it was clearly a traumatic experience for her. It all kind of made me feel uneasy to tell you the truth, but we were in a secluded village in the heart of Africa, it's probably not an every day occurrance to see a white man cut into town.

We reached Alfred's traditional mud hut just before it started raining. It was made from a warm deep kind of Martian red earth and there was a steep thatched roof perched on top. He wasn't in when we arrived but he had left the door open, apparently he knew we were coming. it was so unbelievably peaceful and the only sounds around were the tree frogs. Then we heard a rustle in the distance as Alfred bounded through the bush. He seemed like an amiable chap with a funny, infectious laugh and the most piercing dark eyes that i have ever looked into. I asked if there was any beer up here and amazingly there was!! I bought everyone a beer and as i sat to drink i was amazed by humanity and there strong desire for the yeast beast that they would cart it up a bloody mountain. Good on them. It tasted lovely.

We relaxed and Ines and her family caught up with with Alfred. He only spoke Pidgin so i only understood a little. But they told me that two years ago he told Ines that she would bring a white man to his house. Here i was. When he was talking i'd look over and he was just staring at me in the most intense manner. I wondered if he was trying to read my mind.

I tried to have a sleep when food was being prepared and a first happened to me in Cameroon, i was cold!! yes my teeth were chattering and my lips were turning blue and it was amazing. It really was like Scotland in Cameroon, instead of Edinburgh we called the place Okuburgh.

After we ate it was time for Alfred to tell me the future. I asked some personal questions and i also asked about some of you guys. So if you're skeptical like me, please take it with a pinch of salt.

Tomorrow i see the future......

Travelling man

2008-06-14T11:04:00.000-07:00

These last few weeks in Cameroon are slipping away fast. I've been living on a bus to try and see as much of this beautiful country as possible.

I left Mamfe back to Buea on another epic voyage of eight hours, this was mainly due to the 4x4 breaking down and the bus having to pull it at a snails pace. They didn't have any towrope so what did we use?, a seatbelt. It kept becoming undone and in the dark of the dusty night, car horns and people shouting at us really didn't seem to help our progress. I'll say it again though, travelling in Cameroon is a real experience and is never boring.

It was sad to leave all the Americans behind as it was lots of fun having them around, people go on different paths in life and they were destined to do their work in Mamfe, and they certainly have a lot to get on with. Hopefully i will be going back there in a few weeks to help Kait with the school on wheels programme as i have some knowledge of how it works in Buea.

Last night i met Ines for a beer at Adidjan and we discussed going to Bamenda, i want to go before i head to Mamfe so she suggested we leave today. I'm now sitting in an internet cafe in Bamenda in the north-west province overlooking a giant mountain. I love being spontaneous.

We left at 10A.M this morning and we arrived at about 5P.M. It was a pretty cramped drive and i was scared i hadn't eaten enough for breakfast but once you are on the road and you stop at a checkpoint people come running with all kinds of delicious fruits perched on their heads. So i've been snacking quite healthily all the way here. On a side not i've developed a pretty serious watermelon addiction. The fruit is amazing here.

The road into Bamenda was truly spectacular. The city lies in a basin surrounded by sizeable mountains and when we drove down into it on roads that curved like the Monte Carlo grand prix, i was so transfixed i almost forgot to take pictures. The city seems cool, kind of like Yaounde without the tall buildings. We're going to go exploring on Monday as tomorrow i'm going to meet a man who has mastered the art of teleportation. Can't wait.

You will be afraid

2008-06-13T02:34:00.000-07:00

So the sun rose on Mamfe on the 7th of June. We were rested and ready to see the mythical place which we had built up in our minds. When Chance arrived at Douala airport he got chatting to a guy about where he will be staying, when he told him Mamfe the mans ominous reply was 'You will be afraid'. The area is famous for witchcraft and many Cameroonians are weary of the place for that reason. Being a man of logic and reason, i don't believe in such superstitions. I just decided to keep my eyes peeled for giant holes in the road as they are very, very real.

Mr George, a UAC representative in Mamfe took us for a tour of the German bridges and other sites in the ex-German colony. The first bridge was a rather high delapadated suspension bridge spanning the Manu river (that's the second time i've crossed that river on a perilous bridge) I stood with a nervous grin on the high, shaky structure snapping away at the awesome scenary. We then went to a more solid reassuring bridge that crossed the same river and linked Cameroon to Nigeria. This was definately a German bridge as it spanned the river in an efficient linear concrete line. We went underneath it and witnessed the illegal oil trade between Cameroon and Nigeria. There were many shabby looking boats carrying all kinds of goods between the countries. Where i come from you might be a bit weary of customs officials frowning on such practices but not here, they all shouted 'Snap me' and we all documented the fascinating scene like a pack of papparazzi.

Mamfe had a lovely small town atmosphere, the people were friendly and always greeted us wherever we went. We were not afraid. The roads in the centre of town were paved unlike the bumpy dirt tracks we came in on. Strange, beautiful trees lined tidy, chaotic streets and the early German architecture stood out amongst a sea of brown and blue wooden shacks. Motorbikes tooted by us as we walked round taking it all in.

We walked to the market and all the girls bought cool, kitch dresses. Everybody was so welcoming to us and i probably took about 50 photos. Time for a beer.

The heritage inn where we were staying was run by the amiable Stella who cooked delicious meals for us and plied us with the freshest watermelons and pineapples. There was no power or water so we collected water from a little stream at the bottom of the garden and showered before bed.

Next day Sunday was a day of rest. We hung out in the hotel and Kait and I walked round the town. Loads of wee kids kept shouting 'white man, white man' I'm yet to hear them say white woman. It was a beautiful day. We took a tour of the UAC office and the Americans got briefed on what they will be doing during their stay.

There was chat about going to the club as they have a generator and we could have a boogie and shake our bums. Yes let's go clubbing in Mamfe. Splendid idea. The girls all put on their bargain gladrags that they bought yerterday at the market and we all headed into the inky-black darkness towards the club. We sat in the bar and comandeered half the place with our happy gang. Unfortunately the club was closed on Sundays so Hendrieke, Stella and I went to talk to the manager. He was a stange fat-tongued man who was not too understanding about our desire to dance. He wanted 150,000CFA to open the club, which was unrealistic. He said that would cover a barman, oil for the generatot and a DJ, i managed to barter him down to 120,000CFA and we get to keep the money from the door. No one was up for it and we reached a stalemate. Besides, we were happy to stay in the bar and create a makeshift dancefloor where we danced to Makossa all night long. There was a bit of hassle when we left as all these guys came up to the bus and started asking us to stay. I thought they were all desperate because all the white girls were leaving but i found out later that there was a conspiracy to rob us. I was too tipsy to be afraid.

The next morning, a little worse for wear, we were put to work. There was a rumour that we were going to go and plant flowers at the UAC sports complex, this couldn't have been further from the truth. We were actually shifting bricks up a hill to help build the sports complex. We formed an assembly line in the firey sun and begun the strenuous task. I have never experienced such wild, brutal heat and a few people bacame rapidly dehydrated and had to sit down. There was not enough water for us and their was a mad dash to get more. Hard labour and the stifling middday African sun do not go hand in hand. If i never have to carry another brick for the rest of my puff, i will be no less happy.

Later that day we all piled in the van and went to Orocks' friends house for a delicious meal. I ate like i'd never seen food before. It was great with the wild thunderstorm above us dining in candlelight.

We were supposed to leave tomorrow but the Mayor of Mamfe had seen us carting bricks and was inspired to invite us all to lunch at his house. We went the next day and their was a plentiful feast put on for us, it was all very tasty but we all avoided the porcupine soup. There were some formalities like speeches and backslapping but in all it was a fairly relaxed affair and a great one to end our time in Mamfe.

We spent our last night chatting and drinking beer at the hotel. It was a fun five days and for many reasons i would be sad to leave.

Going to Mamfe

2008-06-12T04:47:00.000-07:00

Hello!! How?

I have just returned from Mamfe in the south-west province. We all left on friday and i just got back to Buea yesterday night. All us volunteers went with the Americans who will be based there doing work for the peacework organisation.

It was quite an international gang that went on the trip, there were the UAC volunteers Sofie and Berit from Denmark, Hendrieke and Wiesje from Holland, Valerie from Canada and me fae Scotland. The peacework team were Kait, Courtney, Chance, James and Hunter from the U.S.A and Loan from Vietnam.

We crammed into one of the UAC buses and all our luggage and the donations that the Americans brought went ahead of us in the 4x4 with Mr Orock and Antoinne, his driver.

We set off in the baking heat of midday, it was a scorcher and i was glad to get a window seat. Kait and i had fun chatting and looking at the endless green scenary rolling out before our eyes. Cries of 'white man' echoed whenever we passed a child on the road. It was fun and i was enjoying myself. Then we started stopping, everywhere. Mr orock is the deputy mayor of Mamfe and i appreciate the fact that he had a lot of business to attend to before going, but it started to become tedious in the blast furnace of the afternoon sun. Luckily we were a happy enough gang and we managed to ward off going stir crazy.

We got to Kumba and stopped for lunch. I had a beer and a fish with no meat on it, like my tattoo. The 4x4 was overheating so it was taken to the garage. We played some frisbee whilst a gathering of curious onlookers watched us. It musn't be a common occurance to have a bus load of white people rock up and chuck around a disc.

With the car fixed we were back on the bumpy meandering road and the green trees weaving our way through the jungle. We thought we were making good progrees when the severity of the bumps took its toll on our old bus and we got a flat tyre. We were in the middle of nowhere, well that's a lie, we were in the jungle somewhere. Travelling in Cameroon is never boring, i promise you. Tyre fixed, we rolled into the inknown towards Mamfe, it was wicked and my ipod provided some amazing backround music to it all.

We crossed these rather perilous looking bridges and i realised after crossing the first one that it was stupid to look down into the void. It was pitch black and all we could see were the beams of light from the cars illuminating the earthy brown bumps. It was getting late and we were all flagging pretty hard. Surely we would get there soon was a general consensus. These hopes were dashed when we became stuck in very thick mud, i tried to open the door to get out and push but the goop was so deep we couldn't even open the door. It was mad but eventually we got out of it, much to the expert driving from sister John.

It was now 10P.M and i was beginning to wonder if Mamfe was a real place. I looked out the window into the dark and then i seen a sign saying 'Mamfe', i choked back tears and waited and dreamed of luxaries like beds and food and showers. We had been in the bus for 13 hours!!

We all stayed at the Heritage Inn but there were not enough rooms so we all shared. There was a blackout in the city but there was still water so i had a pitch dark, freezing shower, it was amazing. Tired and in dire need of a beer i walked up to the main hotel and fell in a rather deep hole, i skinned my knee and cursed like a sailor. I thought i now deserved a beer after that so i got one and relaxed.

Tomorrow Mamfe in the daytime when you can see all the holes.

Graduation with music

2008-06-04T09:50:00.000-07:00

The day has finally arrived, it's graduation day and with it, the musical performance of the century.

We decorated the massive hall yesterday with flowers and balloons and the sparse, vacuous space looked pretty, like a concrete gargoyle with a dress on. The show was meant to start at 9A.M but with Africa time and the logistical nightmare of getting all the parents and their children seated the proceedings rolled to a tardy start at 10.30A.M.

The music class and i had a last minute backstage rehearsal and then we went on stage to the sizeable crowd of proud mothers and fathers and already bored kids. We first sang the Cameroonian National anthem and a song to welcome the parents to the ceremony. Thet went really well and there was no major catastrophes apart from my poor rendition of the anthem. Then we sang 'Cameroon Sun' and i danced about and strummed away maniacally on my unplugged guitar. There was one microphone and it was pushed under one wee girls face, with the others signing their wee hearts out behind her, it sounded pretty good, then the microphone broke but we perserviered and i think won over the audience with our charming performance. They danced off the stage singing a very funky traditional African song.

The gig over i could relax and enjoy the show. All the volunteers were sat in a place of honour to the right of the stage and we watced Stanley Kamga, the head teacher, do his best hosting the chaotic schedule. There was a hilarious game of musical chairs by the class 1's where DJ Dan, Orocks son, pumped out a really innapropriate 50 cent song and stopped it to the dejection of the last kid to fumble and fight to a chair to sit down. I'm sure it probably scarred them emotionally in some way, at least that's the way it looked as they walked off stage withe their head hung to a chorus of raptourous laughter.

The class 5's did a journalistic evaluation of UAC and what it had managed to achieve in the last year. And there were many speeches too. The noise of chatter in the hall was drowned out by a sudden vicious downpour which made all the balloons we'd tied to the windows fly about eractically. It really was organized chaos as water sprayed through the windows and encouraging kids to scream louder as balloons told us where the wind was. I just looked and laughed at it all.

Time was marching on and i was aware that we had not yet gotten onto the not insubstantial task of handing out the hundred prizes. Each class from nursery to the graduating class 5's were in the running for prestigious awards like 'Most improved student', 'Most tidy' and they were ironically given a washing bowl to be even more tidy presumably. 'Most punctual' and 'Best attendance'. Valerie and i presented the awards to the class 2's and my bosom swelled with pride as i seen the wee guys in their mortar boards and over-sizes cloaks come to collect them. I donated a few notebooks and my book 'Images of Scotland' , i don't know which lucky boy or girl won the book, but i'm sure they would take a book on Scotland anyday over an xbox 360or a bike.

So the curtains fell on the show at 2P.M and i was exhausted, i took loads of pictures of the occasion and it really was a brilliant ending to the term.

I've drank aloe vera!!

2008-06-02T03:16:00.000-07:00

Over the past month or so since i recovered from the dastardly duo of malaria and typhoid i've been feeling a little bit rough. Without wanting to go into too much detail and in the interest of human decency, all i shall say is i've not been feeling 100%, and my toilet is my sworn enemy.

Dr Njemba, or the candy doctor as she's commonly known, has prescribed all kinds of drugs to eradicate my ailments. I've also modified my diet so to not include bread and beer (which is about 50% of my diet) but still i feel rough. So enough was enough and when Ines suggested that i drink aloe vera, i agreed out of sheer desperation. She took some of the leaves from the magic plant outside my house and washed them, cut them up and then let them steep in fresh water. She brought the limey-green concoction to me and i drank the bitter potion last night. It was hard not to gag as the bitter taste washed over the back of my throat, i necked it in one and waited for the magic plant to heal me. People swear by it hear as it is regarded as a cure for typhoid and it cleanses your blood of any toxins. But they believe in a lot of other magic cures from plants too. For instance there are many 'doctors' who believe they have the cure for HIV, i ask why they don't release the information to the wider world, a simple answer, they don't want to be killed for their knowledge. Fair enough.

With all that in mind i lay down and read. About two hours after taking it i started to burn up, like literally, i was so hot i stuck my head in a bucket of water!!! Then i began to feel nauseous. I phoned Ines and she told me it was normal. I felt better this morning but i didn't relish having to take more today. So hear is hoping that i get better cause i've tried everything else, what harm can drinking a plant do?

In other news......

The school term has ended and the children graduate on wednesday. Tests have been taken and the stage is set for their graduation onto the next year or in the case of the class 5's, secondary school. All the volunteers have been busy cutting out flowers and making massive, elaborate signs in order to decorate the hall where the ceremony will be held. And of course there shall be other entertainment from the music class and i. Should all be fun.

There are lots of new American volunteers who are here with the Peacework organisation, there are five in all and they're all going to Mamfe to help with the out-reach programmes that UAC conducts there. As there will be no school we will be joining them on their trip to Mamfe on thursday for a visit.

Splendid.

Pidgin English

2008-05-29T05:14:00.000-07:00

In the west of Cameroon the main language spoken is Pidgin, although Cameroonian Pidgin English (CPE) does not have official status like English, it is spoken widely in this part of the country. There is a Pidgin Bible, you'll hear it in the bars, in the taxis and everywhere you go because Pidgin is the language of the street.

It's a strange language in your ears at first, you hear a lot of english words so you feel like you can understand a lot, it's not indesiferable. But they speak it so fast and with such fluidity that the words flow into one so it's easy to lose track, then suddenly a word like 'white man' will pop up and you realise that yes, they have been talking about you. My response to any Pidgin question posed is usually, 'I di speak Pidgin small small'. You don't need to be a hieroglyphics code-breaker like Howard Carter to work out what that means.

Most of the english verbs are used with the adition of 'am' on the end meaning 'it'. So you'll hear things like 'take-am' or 'leave-am'. My favoriye use of the verbs is for the future tense though. If you wanted to say 'i'm going to go' you'd say in Pidgin - 'I di go go'.

Good words like 'Mimbo' meaning drink and 'chop' which means eat will be heard regularly as everyone likes to chop and everyone is partial to a mimbo.

There are also a lot of Portuguese words prevelant in the language from the times of the first settlers to arrive at the ports. Words like 'Piqueno' became 'Pikin' in Pidgin meaning child. My favourite word is 'palava' meaning trouble.

The language gets a bit of bad rap and not everybody accepts the language despite it having its own syntax and grammatical rules. It is blamed for slipping academic standards and the poor level of english pronunciation amongst some people. In Yaounde, a francophone area for example, i encountered a lot of people who regard it with a low self image.

I think it's cool as i realise it gives the people a sense of identity and pride, however it's obviously essential to learn english as it is the link to many other countries. And i can't hate a language which has provided me with one of the funniest prases i've ever heard....

Can i feel your power?

Meaning, Can i feel your muscles, sir?

10 things to bring to Cameroon

2008-05-27T05:13:00.001-07:00

Here is a short list of things that are essential for a stay in Cameroon. I've looked at a few guide books on the country and none of these things are on there.

1. Earplugs - You will not believe how loud people listen to music here, it's obtrusively loud, and the sound carries for miles at night.

2. Candles - When it rains they sometimes shut off the power. You may be able to get candles here like i have, but it wouldn't be pleasant to spend your first night in darkness.

3. Hand and face wipes - Handy for when you're out and there is no water source to wash your hands.

4. Swiss army Knife - I've spent a lot of my time fixing things here, srewing this and tightening that. A swiss army knife would have been ideal.

5. Small toys - As i've seen volunteers leave it's clear that you don't just get away with a 'Gooodbye, remember me', a small toy or gift is a quite sought after item for the wee kids around here.

6. Books - Bring so many books. At night there are three choices - drink, exercise or read. I indulge in all three but reading has become a real passion of mine at the moment. Also a book with pictures on your country of origin, people find it fascinating.

7. Torch - I brought a wind-up one that i basically owe my life to as i can read at night. Thanks Dad.

8. Radio - Since i had my ipod nicked i considered buying one. A wind-up one would be wicked though.

9. Musical instrument - If you play one, bring it. My guitar has been a life saver to me at points, the wee dudes love it too.

10. Raincoat - the words 'when it rains it pours' have never rung truer for me

There is a first time for everything

2008-05-26T02:08:00.000-07:00

This is my first time coming to the African continent, i was a bit scared at first but i jumped in with both feet and managed to keep my head above the water and achieve alot, i did almost drown at one point though.

It's so interesting here and there seems to be no end to nthe surprises, it's quite fantastical.

I've been here through the strike action and without wanting to be too melodramatic, it's the closest i'm going to get to war being a conscientious objector. Everytime i get on a bus it's like being part of a poorly rehearsed slapstick sketch, if it wasn't so funny it'd be bloody terrifying.

My Francophone friend, Ines, had a few firsts while i've been here too. I bought her her first ever burger, and get this, when we all escorted Meredith to the airport, she had her first pizza in Douala!!. She thought it was delicious naturally, but she's probably not going to be too happy about me blabbing about it on the internet. So whilst i'm already in trouble i'll tell you about the first time she heard the Flaming Lips on my ipod, a potentially strange experience for anyone. After careful deliberation, she chose her words carefully 'i've never heard anything like that in my life'. She says she used to listen to the BBC world service and her favourite bands were 'the cranberries' and 'the blur'.

We also went clubbing for Wishas birthday on friday and it was her first time in a club. We all had a wicked time and i got a little bit tipsy.

There is a first time for everything.

One child - one chicken

2008-05-22T12:57:00.000-07:00

UAC and the Jamadianale school has had a lot of attention from people in Cameroon due to its holistic approach to education, small class sizes and innovative programmes.

Today the one child - one chicken and the one child - one tree programmes were launched at the school, the baking sun above us showed zero mercy, but the big ceremony was a great success despite the prolific heat. The class 5's were presented with a live chick and the class 4's were given seeds to plant a tree.

I watched as these wee chicks were handed out in plastic bags to the kids, i couldn't decide whether it was a good idea or a really bad one. The thinking behind it was these kids take these chicks away to rear them over the summer holidays and thus instilling in them the importance of living things and the hardships that are synonymous with caring for them. When they come back to school they are going to sell the fully grown chickens in an auction arranged by UAC, this will give them the values of making a sustainable income from the land. Good ideas in principle, but when you've got 60 kids carrying chickens in a bag, it's hard for your mind to make up its mind. Some were carrying them at arms length in fear of their cute, fluffy, adorable faces. Some were curiously and shamelessly inspecting the birds' genitalia. I thought to myself, this is madness, but it's just crazy enough to work. I'm not sure how the wee chicks felt about it though.

The class 4's were given tree seeds and a bag to plant them in, not quite as ceremonious as a live fowl granted, but the important message was still there. They are going to plant the saplings at home and bring them to the new school site in the new term to be planted in the compound. Again these wee kids will learn the importance of living things and maybe in the future they will be less inclined to cut down are leafy friends, for if it wasn't for them we wouldn't be here at all. I presented the first girl with 6 seeds for planting, she smiled at me like she didn't have a clue what was going on, i said in her ear, 'here is some magic beans, plant them and they will grow taller than you'. She looked at me even more confused but she smiled emphatically. Some dude with a video camera filmed it all so maybe i'll be on Cameroonian T.V.

There was a carnival atmosphere in the school and Mr. Orock was giving interviews to different people and presenting the show. Kids were walking about with little bemused chicks peering out of bags with abject fear in their eyes. It was all rather surreal and i got a bit snap-happy with the old camera because it seemed wherever i looked there was a photo opportunity. It's days like when i realise i'm in Cameroon. It hits my face like a wet slap of water and suddenly i'm looking at a sea of kids holding petrified chickens aloft wrapped in crude plastic bags, I wish i could explain it better to you and to myself, but i do have photographic evidence, so i know it definately happened.

National day

2008-05-20T08:39:00.000-07:00

On May 20th 1972 the Anglophone and Francophone regions of Cameroon came together and formed the 'Unified Republic of Cameroon' That day is now celebrated with a public holiday and a giant march pass in its honour. We attended it today.

And when i say march pass, i mean march pass. Everyone and their mother joined the cue today to march in the baking sun. We were hanging out with Jamadianle kids before it started and it was power-sappingly hot and ram-jammed with school kids in their best uniforms. It was the kind of heat that makes you feel what bread goes through before being done, i couldn't think, my body was to busy sweating for me. All the wee kids were gagging on water as well. One funny wee dude reached such heights of desperation that he actually came up and just demanded money off me. Enough was enough.

We watched all the schools of Buea march past the governor at bongo square and we snapped like crazy, it's a real photo opportunity, as the uniforms are so retro and brightly coloured. The wee dudes swinging their arms in a mock comedy fashion is also a sight to behold.

Unlike national youth day in february which only celebrated the kids in the area, this march promised a whole lot more. The military with their tanks and guns and mean stoical mugs marched past us and we dared not snap them for fear of getting our camera confiscated or a nuke up our jacksies. Along with the goons of fear and war, there were less threatning social groups that wanted to show their pride on this fine day, like the tailors of Buea - all your fabric needs met under one roof.

It was all very fun and we rounded off the afternoon with a drink at Abidjan with the teachers of Jamadianle.

Happy National day Cameroon.

Limbé and the lake

2008-05-18T06:57:00.000-07:00

After breakfast yesterday, Valerie, Wisha and I headed to mile 17 to get a bus to Limbé. To any future volunteers coming to Buea you should know that Limbé is about 40 minutes away by bus and it is absolutely beautiful, it has the warm Atlantic ocean and spectacular black volcanic beaches.

We chose Atlantic beach and had some beer with the sand beneath our feet and the ocean and the islands streching out before us. As much as i love Portobello beach in Edinburgh it is made to look like a gravel-pit in my mind compared to this place. The water here is of a deep-blue hue and it both contrasts and harmonises with the browny-black sand of the beach. Fishing boats bob up and down in an organic rhythm with the tide. It's wicked.

The sun was scorchio though so we opted for some shade and some fish. It had probably been swimming in the ocean about an hour ago and it was so fresh it melted in my mouth, strangely enough, it went very, very well with some cold beer. I'm fond of a wee fish supper back home but i'm a bit worried as to how it's going to taste when i return home, enough brown sauce can make anything taste delicious when used liberally though.

As we dined we paroused the Bradt travel guide for Cameroon and it had suggestions on where to go from Limbé. We impulsively decided to go to the Boana Falls and Lake Debundscha. The book said we should head to the Botanic Gardens to acquire a guide. Two motorbikes were commandeered and we were there in no time. After a few inquiries we quickly met our guide Paul who arranged a car that would take us there and wait for us, all at quite a reasonable rate. He told us that it would not be visable to go to Boana Falls as the treck was pretty long and it was too late in the day for it, but the treck to Debundscha lake could be achieved in an hour. Okay, lets go.

We headed west of Limbé and seen the lava trail of the eruption from Mount Cameroon in 1997 and on through a massive palm oil plantation. We stopped by the beach and the driver went to pay the village chiefs of Debundscha for the privilage of visiting the lake.

We strolled along a beautiful beach with the strong waves lapping up on our legs. My flip-flop got washed off my foot and i thought our expedition was gonna finish before it started, but luckily the tide gave it back to me. We left the beach and into the thick coastal forest that climbed up and fell down through some specatcular scenery. The trail was pretty over-grown in places but was very accessible, it was only made difficult by the fact we all had flip-flops on. My feet took a battering.

We straddled the coast for a few kilometres with the relentless roaring of the tide on our left and the tremor of thunder to our right. We were on our way to the wettest places on Earth. We came to a flight of stairs that looked like the inspration for the temple of Doom and i relished my adventure as i felt like Indiana Jones. We climbed the chaotic stairs and reached an old abandoned German lighthouse and a new modern metal one that wasn't quite as aesthetically pleasing. Paul, our friendly guide, said we could climb the structure when we get back, but now he wanted to push on to the lake as he feared the weather was changing for the worse, as if on cue the sky rumbled in ominous aggreement.

The final treck was tough but we were spurred on by our anticipation of seeing the lake. One last push up a big knotted tree root and there it was - a perfectly spherical expanse of limey-green water surrounded by exotic trees. I gawped and gasped at the beauty of it and i sat in my own perspiration and basked in the tranquility of the place. As i took in the marvellous scene i thought to myself, 'it's good to be impulsive sometimes' We came to Limbé for a few beers, a bit of sun and a fish, but here we were, looking at an ancient, volcanic crater lake.

After a short while we began our treck back. We got to the lighthouse and Wisha and I climbed up the 40ft beacon. At the top we seen the jagged coast and the lush rolling green mountains in all their splendour and i got very trigger-happy with the old camera. The lighthouse began swaying quite a bit which was worrying enough to make us stay for only a few minutes. Then it was back to the deep waves crashing on the spectacular secluded beach.

A little shoal of tiny fish had been washed onto the beach and we ran to save them before they suffocated. We threw the wee tiddlers back in and i felt a deep sense of karma for having eat their big delicious Dad earlier.

We met the car and got back to Limbé and went for a pizza hunt and more beer. Pizza was sold out but a little thing like that didn't frustrate me after having experienced such a beautiful part of the world.

The Cameroon sun

2008-05-14T13:00:00.000-07:00

Wednesday is music class and today there was music. It's a fun time. We are rehearsing for music day at the end of term (which is drwawing even nearer) and we are now fine-tuning our performance. All the wee kids are fascinated by my guitar so new people keep joining the class. They really love it and enjoy singing their wee hearts out.

Today Steven had a new song about welcoming the parents of Jamadianle to graduation day. Quite a nice wee ditty once we finally got to sing it. Steven is a really good teacher but today i began to question his methods when he made them repeat the first line close to one hundred times. I thought man, this guy is a real perfectionist like Phil Spector or someone, i half expected him to pull a gun out he was being so persistent. The line 'our dear parents' began to sound strange after hearing it like a broken record. But i realised it was not just perfection he strived for, but it was the repetition to help the wee dudes remember.

My song 'Cameroon Sun' is fast becoming a classic by the way. Kids even sing it to me on the street. One wee guy even said to me that 'it was the greatest song he had ever heard' Bold praise indeed and i think he deserves an ice-cream. I'll let you judge by the quality of the lyrics. Dylan read on..

"The Cameroon sun rises in the morning,
And with it another day is dawning,
And another day begins in my life today,
Feeling happy because the sun is shining,

And it's beautiful, beautiful, beautiful x3
The Cameroon sun is beautful today,"

Showtime is marching ever nearer and we've got about a 10 minute gig together, complete with the national anthem, homemade shakers, drums and tamborines made by me.

The kids really enjoy it and so do i. Hope it goes well.

Lightning girl

2008-05-13T12:56:00.001-07:00

Another new girl has arrived, a Dutch girl named Wisha, she's a good laugh and she likes beer. She is alright in my book. So there's now 5 girls and me and there's another two volunteers coming by the end of the month, both female. Not bad from living alone for a month to estrogen island. I'm quite happy thank you.

It's been pretty hot here recently and it hasn't rained for close to a week so consequently there is a drought. Bucket showers become tedious exercises in agility when you're bathing with a cup full of water. When things get really bad we have been getting water from the Orock house, so toilets have been getting flushed and that (i'll spare you the details)

I think it may be just Buea that is experiencing this lack of precipitation because we watched an amazing thunderstorm far away over Douala last night. It was pretty awesome, the sky seems so big in Africa, you can see for miles. The whole sky was popping white with brilliant intensity and burning flashes of electricity but it was so high and so far away we didn't even hear the noise of the bolts tearing apart the sky. We just sat back and enjoyed the show.

Kribi in the rain

2008-05-09T09:36:00.000-07:00

So after another delicious breakfast of real toast and butter and coffee and milk, we said our thankyou's to Auntie Planey and the family for their generous hospitality, and once it again it was off into the scorching sun for another day off travelling. We were heading back to Buea via Kribi, which is a popular coastal destination in the south province. The sun was shining and i was really up for it, but i knew that anything can happen on a bus journey in Cameroon.

Like a woman vomits on the bus, you see your first dead body by the roadside (both of which happened on the way to Yaounde) or you're driving along and the door falls off, and like now a tomato falls on your head when they're putting the luggage on top of the bus. Anything can happen.

We waited some time for the bus to fill up and eventually we were off. About an hour in the grey monochromatic face of a thundercloud started pouring rain on us. Nice day for the beach. I was reading at one point when i felt my arm getting wet, i found to my pleasure the window was leaking, after corking the flow of precipitation i sat back and waited for something else to happen but the next eventful thing i seen was a sign saying 'Bienvenue a Kribi'.

As i got off the bus i struck my bonce quite sharply on the door and consequently barked at the poor sap trying to give me a taxi. It was raining heavily, i was hungry and my bonce and bum hurt equally. We headed to a nice restaurant that Aloys knew. It had a pool table and it couldn't have been more beach-front without being under water. We ordered the fish and i challenged Aloys to a game of pool. I almost got a splinter when getting the balls out of the table and the cues didn't have any tips (i'm not giving excuses for my defeat) We played our game which could be called anything but a classic, and i got one free lesson in pool. Our fish arrived and it was lovely eating it while taking in the amazing view of the Atlantic.

We were alreday behind schedule so it was off to Buea via Douala, i could feel my bed getting nearer. Another packed bus to Douala where my bum only enjoyed half a seat, it got so bad that i had to stand up most of the way. We rolled into Douala at night and we were delayed further because no one was there to take our bags from the top of the bus. So good old Ernest just hopped up and passed them down to me. I love Cameroon. We got a taxi and it was destined to be the last vehicle between me and bed.

Good night.

Yaoundé and nights

2008-05-08T03:08:00.000-07:00

We rolled into Yaoundé and met a stubborn traffic jam that refused to budge for no car; it was made all the more frustrating because we were 20 yards from the bus station. We waited and sweated. Car horns and the French language were in my ears and crazy-faced men demanded I take their taxi to wherever I wanted to go.

The city redeemed itself once we got on the open road, a road that curves and wriggles through modern buildings and shacks, rolling hills that evoked the sensation of being on a rollercoaster. It had a lovely, charming atmosphere as trees lined the streets and the roads seemed to have a semblance of order (how wrong first appearances can be.)

We arrived at Aloys uncle’s house and had a beer, which is up there with one of the best beers of my life; it fell down my parched throat as rain pelted the roof of our rather sumptuous temporary new abode. I was happy to be in Yaoundé. Ernest came over with his two wee girls and we headed out to his mothers bar and had a few more deserved drinks whilst trying to keep the girls entertained with a bit of table football with a bottle-top. We left to walk back to town up quite a muddy path and I continued to entertain the girls by falling on my bum. Did I mention I was happy to be in Yaoundé?

I was until a silly, ugly pug of a man wearing a red nipple hat stopped our happy gang and demanded to see our passports. His mouth was flapping French at me and I did my best to keep up, but the long and short of it was he wasn’t happy with neither Meredith’s I.D nor mine. The whole group were francophone who didn’t speak English, Aloys and Ernest are deaf but do speak French, but I didn’t think that this guy had the patience nor the intelligence to communicate through writing, Meredith can say ‘bonjour’ and ‘oui’, neither of which applied to this annoying exchange, and I am no French poet. So after an hour it all got pretty heated until another cop showed up and sent us on our way. It was pretty stressful and Meredith and I managed to really piss each other off. I was no longer happy to be in Yaoundé.

After sorting out our earlier troubles and with new tasks at hand we quickly forgot about yer man on the bribe tip, it was a new day and it was to business. After a delicious breakfast of croissants and coffee with real milk, we set of for our first of many taxis around the city to the ministry of social affairs, it was raining pretty hard and unfortunately we couldn’t see the minister today but Aloys managed to get a booking for tomorrow.

We set off in another taxi and traversed roads that made Piccadilly Circus seem like a gentle left turn. The imaginary break pedal beneath my foot took a hammering.We drove through what i thought was a river but it was just a massive flood in the middle of the city We arrived at the American embassy for Cameroon and I had to stop Meredith singing her national anthem. You know how patriotic these Americans get. After she had called ahead and been told that she could just pop in at any time I assumed it would be a nip and tuck past the old security guards. But no we were denied entry and Meredith would have to wait to get back onto American soil.

Another taxi, another death ride to the Peace Corps headquarters, and again more static from the security guards. They thought we were fluent in French or something and refused to speak a word of English until eventually one wee guy piped up and said in broken English that Meredith being the only American should go in. She was a bit flustered as it was Aloys who wanted to go in and see about getting a Peace Corps volunteer for the deaf school. She explained all this to the secretary and passes were issued and we were granted entry into fort knox. The meeting was very successful and by sheer coincidence a Peace Corps volunteer that Aloys had been in e-mail contact with just happened to be in the building. So hopefully in the future B.S.D will get some assistance from Peace Corps. Then we went for pizza, yes we had pizza, pizza with ham and cheese, from an oven. It was pizza and it was good.

TAXI!! The deaf school please, and can you drive like there is a bomb on board?

We arrived at the first deaf school in Cameroon and we were greeted warmly. We were given a tour and I was very impressed. It was huge and it had a positive atmosphere. So then it was another taxi driver who drove like he had a death wish and a pair of cement boots on for a beer then home for the sleep of a drunken zombie.

The next morning another splendid continental breakfast was presented to us, I cannot describe the quality of grub we received at Auntie Planeys house so I’m not going to. I was chatting to her about the school she built and I asked her if she has any foreign volunteers? She had one Danish guy. Is his name Chris? Yes. It was the very same Chris ho came to Buea with the girls and came to the jungle with us. A crazy coincidence that was hard to believe, we were going for a tour of her two schools today so I would meet him later. The schools were amazing and the children polite and attentive, they were absolutely transfixed by Meredith signing to Aloys and Ernest; it was very sweet, they hadn’t seen anything like it and it certainly did no harm in highlighting the deaf community in Cameroon. I arranged to meet Chris later for a beer but now it was back to business.

TAXI!! Your engine is on fire, can you get us there before it explodes?

We arrived at the Air France building so Meredith could check on her ticket. I was about to buy a cool book on Cameroon but Aloys assured me he was ripping me off (white man tax)

TAXI!! I wish to die in a taxi, will you be my executioner?

We visited Ernest’s sister at her work then we walked to the ministry to meet the minister for the meeting. I stayed out of this one as Aloys, Ernest and Meredith were wearing their Sunday best and I looked like a weary Scot with the complexion of a cooked lobster. I walked through Yaoundé solo like I knew what I was doing and headed to the high court.
Ines had told me there was a specific court that dealt solely in cases of black magic; the court of mysticism if you will. I don’t know about you readers but that sounds pretty fascinating to me. I got there and was delighted to see lawyers wearing the same ridiculous white frilly wigs they wear back home. I inquired in my best franglais about the court but to my disappointment I was told there were no cases today. I texted Ernest but their meeting was taking a long time to start as the whole city closes down for ‘lunch’ from 12 till 3.30PM, the minister included. I strolled along like I knew where I was going and found a supermarket with a bakery that sold fresh pizza, it wasn’t a patch on yesterday but it was pizza, and it was good. I bumbled along craning my neck and taking in the great city whilst munching on my Italian delicacy. It really was a beautiful place. The architecture was quite 70’s with some new structures showing their steely glass faces. The architects weren’t afraid to use vibrant colours in their buildings too, greens, reds yellows; it was very pleasing to the eyeball.

As I sat under a line of trees to shade my epidermis I looked out at the hills and shacks and thought to myself I will definitely return to Yaoundé, but next time I will be armed with the fluent French on my tongue. It’s cool, you should go. I met up with others and the meeting had gone well with some promising news for B.S.D. I think a beer is in order, don’t you?

TAXI!!

Bon voyage Meredith

2008-05-05T13:13:00.000-07:00

Well Meredith jetted off for the U.S of A via France last night, her time in Cameroon has come to an end. We had a conversation a while ago about how bittersweet it was to be leaving, happy to see family and friends, but sad to be leaving great friends behind. I think she made up her mind that one day she'll return to Cameroon.
I feel the same way. Whenever i speak to my Dad on the phone he always asks me "is your heart still in Cameroon?" Yes it is. You could say that Meredith and I have caught the Cameroon bug, and i don't just mean malaria.

We had a wee party for her departure at small Buea by night on Saturday. Two tables were required for the throng of thirsty well-wishers. Last night we all drove to Doulala to have some pizza (good) and took her to her scheduled destination where the big metal bird awaited to fly away from this fascinating place.

Good Bye Meredith x

Waiting for it to send

2008-05-03T03:15:00.001-07:00

There are even more new people, they are Zara from the U.S.A who was actually born in Perth, Scotland and Valerie from Canada. Valerie is here to help with the school and Zara is leaving for Mamfe in a few weeks when the rest of her American team arrive to help with out-reach programmes UAC are working on there.

Sofie, Berit and I invited them for a drink last night but they were properly tired as they hadn't really slept in two days. It's cool having new people and it's nice to not live alone anymore. Great.

I'm feeling a lot better but i do have a bit of a dicky stomach after taking so many pills, the candy doctors cure? sort it out with more pills. mmmm. I'm going to start tomorrow though as Meredith's leaving party is today and i think it would be both irresponsible and rude not to indulge in a wee tipple. So from tomorrow no beer for 10 days!!!!

I didn't really plan to write a blog today but i'm sitting in the cyber trying to send a UAC newsletter to David at Africa Trust, i've waited about 20 minutes so far and i'm going to have to buy more net time i think. The internet here is a pain in the bum, if you go in the morning it's sometimes OK but in the afternoon it's about as fast as morse code.

Byes

Bonjour Yaoundé

2008-04-29T23:48:00.000-07:00

Hello!. I'm writing this from Yaoundé (ya-oon-day) the capital of Cameroon. it's a very lovely and mysterious place, evrybody speaks french, and the keyboard i'm typing this on is french too with all the keys in the wrong positions (Inès would be so proud of me for the amount of franglais i've been speaking.)

Aloys, Ernest and Meredith from the Buea school for the deaf came here on Sunday on a mission to meet ministers and delegates and other important people, and i tagged along with them. We've been staying with Aloys' uncle and wife and their hospitality towards us would be adequate for royalty.

We leave today for a visit to Kribi on the coast qnd then back to Buea (boy-ah) by night. I hope the journey going back isn't as eventful as the one coming here, we drove past the scene of a horrendous accident, i don't really want to talk too much about it here, all i'll say is it was the most gruesome thing i have ever seen.

Enough about that i'm having a wonderful time in Yaoundé and we've met a lot of the right people who may be able to help with the deaf school. I shall write about my adventures when i return to Buea.

Au revoir.

Fascinating facts about Cameroon

2008-04-26T03:59:00.000-07:00

- The name Cameroon comes from the Portuguese word for prawns; cameroes, which were found in abundance in the Wouri river when the first European explorers arrived.

- Cameroon covers an area of 183,638 square miles, some of which is water, so it is roughly twice the size of the U.K.

- In a 1999 census of the country there was an estimated to be 15.5 million poeple, of which 50% live in rural areas.

- Cameroon is one of only two countries in the entire world to have two official languages; English and French. The other bi-lingual country is Canada.

- There are 275 ethnic groups in Cameroon, other than the official languages there are 167 different dialects spoken.

- Mount Cameroon is the tallest mountain in West Africa at 4095m.

- Cameroon is home to the Goliath frog which at 0.3m (0.6m with legs outstretched) is the largest frog in the world

- Cameroon encompasses many geographical lanscapes that are similar to the whole continent, lush rainforest in the south to scorched desert in the far north, great volcanic lakes and vast savanna planes. It is for this reason it is sometimes dubbed 'Africa in miniture'.

- Debundscha, at the base of Mt. Cameroon, has an average annual rainfall of 405 inches. It is the wettest place on earth.

Here are some cool websites i've found that give a flavour of the country and the continent.

www.cameroonnews.com
www.camnet.cm
www.wwfcameroon.org
www.cameroon-tribune.cm
www.misscameroon.org
www.africa-geographic.com
www.ethnologue.com
www.southerncameroons.org
www.irinnews.org
www.africanews.org
www.allafrica.com
www.bakwerilands.org
www.africaonline.com
www.usafricaonline.com

Newsletter blues

2008-04-24T03:25:00.001-07:00

So i'm feeling a lot better. The malaria and typhoid have vacated my system like a couple of unwelcome gate-crashers. I'm sorry if my descriptions of the nasty wee diseases were quite vivid and graphic, but i'm telling the exact truth in this blog, i'm not a fan of censorship in life, so i'm certainly not going to pull any punches here. I do have to censor my expletives though as my granny and grandad are reading this, hypocrite. I am sorry if you're condsidering coming here and it has scared you though, but there are precautions you can take,and not everyone is unlucky enough to contract these illnesses.

I'm back at school and i've been busy drawing up worksheets and tests for the vocational department, and i've started drawing up their final english and maths exams that i will hold at the end of May.

Remedial reading has been a bit of a false start as its been off for holidays then i got sick, so three weeks have elapsed and that's enough time to make the wee dudes think that classes have finished. So on monday past one kid showed up (well he was playing in the school yard and i nabbed him) i said the classes were still on and if he spreads the word and gets a minimum of 10 kids here on wednesday, i will buy him an ice-cream, essentially bribery i'll admit, but yesterday sofie,berit and i turned up and there were 10 children waiting. The wee dude got his ice-cream.

Music class has been going well and with the help of Steven we're going to put on a performence on music day at the end of term. I've written my first childrens song, which is called 'Cameroon sun' and the children love to sing it. They've got incredible rhythm too, so hopefully the performence will be a success.

I've also been busy typing up a UAC newsletter at the request of David at Africa Trust. I did it by interviewing Mr Orock then i padded it out in my best english. It's been an absolute nightmare typing it up though, i was typing as fast as i could on Dan's computer at the Orock house, i'm not the slowest typer in the world but i'm not the fastest either. After two hours i was almost finished when the power cut off, my brain nearly exploded with fury!!. Luckily microsoft word retrieves documents and this was the case, unfortuneately it only saved half of it, so i began re-typing.I finished it when the power cut off again!! I actually started inventing new expletives, i was raging. When the power came back on it again only save half of it. I gave up and stuck in my USB stick to save what i had, but dan's computer would not recognise it. If i had had a gun i don't know what i would have done to that computer, i hated its digital guts!!. Anyway after turning it off and on again 300 times and doing the classic of blowing into the USB port, it finally saved it and i typed the rest of it at the UAC computer room. Meredith has a cool programme and all my photos on her laptop, so she has helped me draw it up. The only problem now will be sending it...

Went out for some delicious fish with Ines, Meredith, Sofie and Berit the other night, i had my first beer in 17 days!!!!!!!!!!!! I must be on the road to recovery.

Jungle fever

2008-04-21T02:11:00.000-07:00

9th of April 2008.
A parrot woke me up this morning; the shrillness of it seemed to demand that I get up.

We began walking along another path that would hopefully take us to some monkeys. Straight away I felt tired after the strange nights sleep I had had on what was effectively a block of wood. I had jungle fever too, man the sweat was just pouring off me, pretty uncomfortable and to tell you the truth I wasn’t enjoying myself.

Then suddenly we stopped as Joseph was craning his neck skywards, we looked up in vague interest as this was the twentieth time he had done this, then we heard the loud call of monkeys and rustling in the canopy above. I fumbled for my camera and looked and looked, the noise was surprisingly loud considering how high above us they were, and then I seen the unmistakable shape of a monkey silhouetted against the pale-blue sky, its tail curled as it leapt from branch to branch. It was a Red Colobus Monkey which are highly endangered so Joseph was pleased to see them, not as pleased as me, I was ecstatic. Unfortunately I didn’t manage to get a photo but I had a new found respect for these people who film Attenborough documentaries.

We walked along the path and I felt somewhat invigorated by my simian sighting, but this feeling of elation was quickly quashed by the many empty shotgun shells we found strewn along the way. The illegal bush-meat trade coupled with rangers who get paid very poorly, so poorly in fact they accept bribes from poachers they catch, has resulted in a drastic depletion of many rare species in the park. I found myself cursing humanity as I stumbled along wondering what it would be like if I, nor any other human had ever walked this path.

So tired, I wanted to lie down and drink cold water until my stomach burst, my eyes were stinging from sweat and it felt like my breath was only reaching my skin “how much further Joseph?.” We eventually made it out after seeing countless more butterflies, but alas, no forest elephants. We crossed the Manu suspension bridge for a second time and I felt a deep, pleasurable relief to be stationary.

We got back to the Boseme Café and had a much deserved beer and some more delicious food prepared by our chef Tobias. I had an interesting chat with him about the bush-meat trade and he said it was awful in Mundemba, he could take me to the market or any restaurant near-by and I would see bush-meat being sold in abundance. I agreed that while I’m here I’ll write to WWF who are based in Limbe and send as many e-mails as possible to the right people. He said this would be good as all the park needs is a small constant supply of money to keep good rangers on a salary. I think though there needs to be more education on the dangers of hunting rare animals for bush-meat. I understand that a family must eat but I didn’t see any chickens, goats or pigs in Mundemba, attitudes must change as well as practices.

A thunderstorm rolled in gray and heavy and I watched the rain and sipped on my icy-cold beer. Some German botanists and marine life experts showed up and we chatted to them about the park. They were on a mission to collect fish from all the countries on the 13th degree line of latitude. There was also an Estonian guy visiting the park for his PHD, he was collecting rare mushrooms that grow on the roots of trees, he chatted away in a stoical manner about mushrooms and I feigned interest, he was a nice guy but there’s only so long you can talk about mushrooms in my opinion. I sat back and listened to the group chatting in English with accents and I felt very European. I went to bed feeling rinsed.

Now in my previous blog I told you of the road to Mundemba and the death mobile, well we had to do it again, but this time we were all in the back and there was no rotund lady taking up a lot of space. I rode the whole journey with my head out the window and I felt totally free as children shouted ‘white man’ at me, the pitch changing with the Doppler Effect as we zoomed by. We were stopped at every check-point by strange men looking for handouts. I’m afraid you’re not getting a bribe off me pal, here is my passport and here is my yellow fever certificate, I’ll be on my way shall I?, thanks……..

Jason in the jungle

2008-04-19T03:59:00.000-07:00

8th of April 2008.
This was the first morning of my life where i woke up and thought to myself, 'i'm going to the jungle today' but it was certainly so, it was a fact.

We drove to the visitors centre and chief Adolf waved us off. It was about 8km away through a massive palm oil plantation and i was very excited. In my giddyness i tried to remember everything Ray Mears had taught me.

Joseph, our guide, pointed to a rickety suspension bridge spanning a wide river and informed us that was the entrance. My stomach did a dance like a butterfly. As we crossed the shaky constuction over the Manu river, vertigo tickled my mind in a sadistic way. It seemed sturdy enough but the length of the bridge coupled with the space in between the slats revealing the jaggy, coarse rocks below were enough to make my mind jitter.

Ww made it across and we were now in Korup National Park, a primary rainforest that has stood far longer than the time us crazy humans have been on the Earth. It's big at 1260km2 and it straddles the border between Cameroon and Nigeria. Its many endemic species and rich bio-diversity persuaded WWF to lobby for its establishment as a national park in 1986.

After growing up hooked on David Attenborough documentaries i was so excited to be in a place such as this, Joseph told us that Attenborough himself had been here filming in the past, which i thought was very cool. He has not been the only celebrity to grace the forest, we came across a plack that told us 'Prince Charles trecked this far in 1989' We were 200m in for gods sake! I wonder if he got someone to carry him back.

The track was a well-beaten one so there was no need for machetes to chop vines from our path, knotted tree roots and meandering streams were our only obstacles. It was so humid and i felt like i was evolving gills as we trunched along the forest floor. Grand, humungous trees were everywhere and small, spindly ones climbed them in an advantagous way in the search for light, there were mushrooms of vibrant colour on every piece of rotting wood, a thin slice of light shone on an exotic butterfly and high above birds called to eachother in a beautifully melodic manner. I was in the jungle. But then the sweats came, wow we were all drenched within an hour, it was crazy.

Our destination for the evening was Chimapnazee camp, it was 9.7km through the jungle and at times i thought unreachable, as i felt i may evaporate at any moment. We came across the aptly named 'Big Boulder' which was the remnants of a billion years of volcanic activity and erosian, it was an absolute monster!! We climbed up on top of it and there were trees growing all over it, which really confused my sense of reality.

We reached chimpanzee camp in just under four hours, i felt like we'd stumbled onto the set of lost, there were other people living here from the smithsonian society researching rare, endemic flowers (there have been many plants found here that have been used for promising malaria and HIV/AIDS treatment). We walked into the deserted camp of wooden huts perched on conctrete pillars. The feeling of fatigue was on me and there was Edith Piaf playing on a tinny radio, it was without doubt the most surreal moment of my life.

There was a beautiful little bathing spot in a little stream next to the camp. I stripped from my sweaty clothes and left them to dry in the baking hot sun and went down and floated in the cool water. There were echoes of birds and crickets all around me as i floated on my back amongst the tiny wee fish and gazed up at the canopy, i could've fallen asleep, i've never felt such a strong sense of peace as i did at that moment, it was perfect.

After a bit of rest Joseph said he'd take us up to the look-out point, it was only 1.8km away but it was a pretty vertical climb and absolutely exhausting to reach. So worth it though as the boulder was at quite a high point of elevation and it presented us with an awe-inspiring view of the lush, green canopy. I stared at it for an hour and felt the tranquility of a man in deep meditation. It was heart-breakingly beautiful, i coul've stayed there forever.

We returned back to camp somewhat refreshed and we cooked our spaghetti and munched our apples. The food was delicious and i felt very happy. Hopefully we would be lucky enough to see forest elephants and monkeys tomorrow, a very nice thought to go to sleep on.

The road to Mundemba

2008-04-17T02:01:00.000-07:00

7th of April 2008.
To get to Korup National park you must first travel to Mundemba via Kumba. We set off for Kumba at 10a.m along a road which straddled round mount Cameroon to the north, it is due for completion in 2011 (it is being funded by the E.U). We sped along in the land cruiser and made it to Kumba in one hour, Mr Orock assures me it used to take four. Kumba seemed like a tranquil little place with dirt roads harbouring the biggest pot-holes i've ever seen in my life. We traversed through them and stopped at a supermarket to get esssential provisions, apples, buscuits, water, sweets, snickers, more buscuits and one heinekin and a cigarettes (jungle food). I was very excited when we headed to the bus station to get a car to go to Mundemba, the mouth of the jungle.

The bus station was a frenzy of mad-faced men shouting place names in my face, people dangerously over-loading the boots of their cars, music pumping from a distorted speaker and little girls selling pineapples perched on their heads. I felt pretty alive. We quickly found an old toyota to take us there for 6000CFA and soon our belongings were being stuffed into the boot of the car with what seemed like a lot of extra luggage. Chris, Sofie, Berit and I tried to alll get in the back but our friendly driver Eric had other ideas. It was Chris and Berit, another man and his boy and shall we say, a large lady in the back. In the front there was Sofie and i, a woman who had the audacity to fall asleep on my already cramped arm and our driver Eric. 9 people!! Shocking, but that's the way it's done here.

We rolled out for the four hour drive and i immediately became claustrophobic, i eased this tension in my by cracking hilarious jokes like "are we there yet?" Now i've been in a car with nine people before but only for five minutes on the short ride up to the Buitingi school. After one hour in the death machine i actually began to fear getting deep vein thrombosis, it was an absolute nightmare. Only three hours to go.

We rolled into a small village amusingly named Ekockdu Titi and stopped for fuel. We fell out of the car feeling like the victims of some heartless people trafficing cartel and i did one of the least dangerous things i did that day; had a cigarette in a garage. We stood around desperately trying to massage a sembelance of life back into our bums. Eric assured us cheerfully that were was just one hour to go. I though to myself, this jungle better be beautiful.

The road to Mundemba is a sorry, pitiful dirt track aspiring to be a road. Cars drive along it but i wouldn't grant it road status. It's a charlatan pretending to be a road. A lorry learnt this all too well when it had become stuck in a massive mud-hole. We jumped at the chance to fall out the death mobile and massage our bums once more. We watched as the poor sap toiled to become liberated from the thick, golden goop. I felt pretty far from home until i seen a guy wearing a soundgarden t-shirt! That snapped me back into reality.

Once again we were off and it started to rain quite heavily so the road became even more treacherous. We finally rolled into Mundemba in just under four hours and went straight to the Korup vistors centre. We were told to wait for the chief who would be with us shortly.

Chief Adolf, yes, that's right, seemed an officious man who'd seen the likes of us before, "these white people are always rubbing there bums" he probably thinks to himself. We went through costs and he gave us his much rehearsed speech about the many endemic bird, simian and tree species in the park. We arranged for one porter and the mandatory guide. I noticed he kept eyeing me suspiciously as we chatted, i realised later that i had sun-burn on half my face and i had bad truck drivers arm, the final indignity of a tortorous drive. We'd stay one night in the boseme cafe in Mundemba, head to the jungle which was 8KM away early in the morning and stay one night there, then return the next day and stay in Mundemba one more night. OK let's do that then. Eric said he'd pick us up in the death mobile when we were ready, he was to make the journey back to Kumba a furher six times before he seen us. A thought i couldn't even entertain, my bum feeling the way it was.

We were dropped off at our hotel which was very clean but the barhroom smelt of nightmares. Our guide Joseph came to meet us and we chatted about what we can aim to see in two days and one night in the jungle. He then took us for some more provisions of pasta and onions and sauce. He said he'd bring the pots. Before bed we were prepared a delicious feast of rice, chips and a hot tomato sauce by our chef Tobias.

Tomorrow i go to the jungle.....

Typhoid

2008-04-15T01:16:00.000-07:00

So i woke up yesterday and my whole body creaked like a shoody deck-chair. When i got out of bed i actually thought i had dislocated my patella as my knees cracked like a whip when i straightened them.

I went up to the doctors and she took more blood for testing. When i got the results back i was informed that the malaria had gone but now the typhoid was having a wee go. She had been treating for the typhoid as well as the malaria but it managed to slip by like a silent, dangerous hitch-hiker that you'd forgotten you'd picked up along the road.

I came back and resumed reading an amazing Bertrand Russell autobiography, at one point my attention was roused when i seen a tiny black frog jumping about my room. Startled, i leapt out of bed to find something to butcher the beast with, but when i turned round, he had vanished. I entered a dreamless void of a sleep and when i awoke there was a giant millipede lying by my face. I actually screamed until i had a closer inspection of what it was; my black beaded bracelet had broken off and shed its beads like millioins of millipede eggs. So i've been hallucinating quite wildly, which is nice.

Throughout all this i have been lucky enough to have an insatiable appetite and unquenchable thirst, if i didn't i'm sure i would be a lot sicker than i am. Now the Doctor is giving me butt-shots for the typhoid, i'm off for one now, bye.

Malaria

2008-04-13T07:19:00.000-07:00

Let me tell you about malaria. It's a bastard (pardon my french Granny and Grandad).
I thought i had suffered headaches before now but those were just petty, sappy love-taps from a baby compared to these mosquito-induced bad boys. I felt like i had one of those industrial-sized elastic bands fitted snugly round my brain and every so often like some sadistic, adavistic torture it was pulled back for the inevitable snap onto my cranium. My skin felt like wet leather and to touch it was to evoke the sensation of peeling yourself unstuck from a block of ice. My eyes felt like foreign bodies in my skull, begging to be scratched from their ocular prisons. My tongue felt like a squatter-slug unnatuarally dry within my mouth. And the fever was hotter than Douala in the daytime. And to top it all off i had typhoid too, which made my digestive system march to a sick, sardonic beat with the toilet being my metronome master.

To tell you the truth i didn't get it half as bad as Meredith, but she's from Texas, the land of George Dubya, so she's tough - like a cowboy.

Before you travel to a malaria hot-zones you must seek medical advice on which anti-malarial prophylactic to take. Although none of them are 100% effective, doxycyclin has failed me personally, and if it were to stand up in court, i would sue them (oops, that's some bitterness creeping in there). There are other preventive measures you can take against contracting malaria. Don't wear bright colours as mosquitos are attracted to them. Cover as much skin as possible (impossible actually, it's far to hot for that). I choose to douse myself in insect repellent (apparently not that effective either). I have screens on my windows and i sleep under a mosquito net, so indoors i think i'm safe, it's outside where the danger lies (or should i say flies?).

The terrible terrorists love the puddles that sporadically decorate the road. The brown, mirky water is perfect for the blood-thirsty bleeders to breed. They attack at dusk or dawn like tiny vampires and you don't feel a sting or a thing till after (wow i'm bitter right now, i've noticed when i'm angry and i write, i use a lot of alliteration and rhyming for effect) There are deadly strains of the disease here in Cameroon, which if left untreated can be fatal, the sad thing is not everyone can afford the medicine.

Dr Njemba, the volunteers doctor, has been my saviour, she really has. As i write this on Sunday afternoon i'm feeling a lot better than i was. I've had two infusion cocktails passed through my bloodstream and they had the jaundiced colour of urine, they made me look as sick as i was. They scared me too as i had never had one before, much to the amusement of Dr Njemba, she said she will never forget me, so many questions. She's prescribed all the relative drugs to kill the intruding parasites within me, and all in the comfort of my own room. Thanks doc.

When i've been tethered to my bed Meredith has brought me coca-cola and sympathy, Sofie has been bringing me my dinner and wee Cynthia has been fetching me bananas like i was an invalid. So it's not all doom and gloom being sick (note to self, try and end on a positive note).

You gave me fever

2008-04-11T02:37:00.000-07:00

Hello! I have returned from the jungle. It was amazing and i'm going to write some blogs on my tales soon. Now though i am feeling rather sick and i'm not up to it.

The day before we went to the rainforest i woke up with a crazy bad fever. Steam was pouring from my face and i could melt ice with a firey glance. Anyway, the volunteers doctor came out and said i may have typhoid and possibly malaria. She presented me with a multitude of drugs of every colour, malara suppresants, anti-histamines, painkillers and a rehydration pill for good luck. In all i had to pop 14 pills in my face!!.

"Eh, are you sure it's okay to mix all these drugs?" I inquired apprehensively.
"Yes, of course it is. They will make you better, now take these for your fever" She said bossily.
"So you think i won't get sick in the jungle?" I begged.
"No. You will not get sick, oh don't take those yellow ones!!!, they will make you very sick" She blurted as i was raising them to my mouth.
"Oh" I said as i glanced down at these apparent suicide pills in my hand. "Why did you bring them?" I asked.
"A mistake" she said absently as she reached for more pills.

So after popping half the contents of a chemist i went to the jungle. I must say i felt fine, although the humidity of the rainforest may have consealed my fever. We got back yesterday and again i felt alright, but last night i started shivering (a very weird experience in Africa, i sleep with a fan on me at night and if i had the choice i'd go and kip on a block of ice!)and then the fever came back with a beezer of a sore head as a wee treat too.

So now here i am in the cyber sweating buckets after seeing the doctor for the second time. She took some of my blood and she is going to run tests on it. I don't feel too special to be honest. I just hope it's not malaria though, as my friend Meredith had to go to hospital with it last week. It's not very pleasant.

I shall keep you posted.

There are new people!!

2008-04-06T08:57:00.000-07:00

There are new volunteers. My time as Robinson Crusoe is over. They are Berit, Sophie and Chris. They are Danish and they're lovely.

They arrived yesterday and they will be staying for three months, Chris will be going back to Yaounde in a week for the remainder of his stay though.

Last night i didn't hesitate to introduce them to the delights of Abidjan, and i took them on a wee tour today. We went down to Munya market so they could get some essential provisions. Berit has to work on her bartering skills however, cause when a guy offered 350CFA for a pair of flip-flops, she tried to get him up to 400CFA. Not how it works.

The best bit is though, they want to come to Korup National Park with me. We leave tomorrow. Wicked. I'm going to the rainforest, i'll be back in a few days with some tales. I've heard the internet connection is pretty non-existant in the jungle, so i'll wait to get back to Buea.

Roots4kids

2008-04-04T01:43:00.000-07:00

Went to a party last night at Christel and Raouls' orphanage out in the sticks. Christel is a former UAC volunteer who came back to Cameroon and built an orphanage with her boyfriend Raoul, himself a francophone Cameroonian from Yaounde.

They've done it, the building is amazing (if not a little bigger than they intended) and it is bright pink. A sanctuary in the jungle. They intend to house twenty children, 10 girls and 10 boys in a safe, warm environment, see they go to school and give them another start in life as they will have no one else to do this for them.

This of course takes money, hence the reason for last nights party, Christel is returning home to Holland on a fundraising trip and i'm sure she will be successful. It is such a worthwhile cause and any potential financial backer would be blind not to see that.

The party was a relatively low-key affair with popcorn, beer and a nice ambiance. I arrived after an uncomfortable taxi ride (two large ladies, me and some other dude in the back, two in the front passenger seat and get this, two in the drivers seat!! both taking turns at driving responsibilities...comically dangerous) The chief of Buitingi was there and they were discussing the lack of water situation in the area. After the business there was a wonderfully surreal moment where we all had a boiled egg. Then we had some beer.

www.roots4kids.com

Holiday news

2008-04-03T01:18:00.000-07:00

So i'm currently on holiday from school till the 16th of April. There's kids on every corner laughing and skipping, children running about so giddy with excitement that they hardly know what to do with themselves. Some run past me pushing an old tyre with a stick that conjures images of an old Dickens novel. Amd of course some of them work. Child labour does exist here as farms won't tend themselves and water doesn't always magically pour from the taps, it must be carried from the stream a long way from home.

My plan is to go on an excursion to Korup national park. Meredith was up for it too but unfortuneately she has a lot of uni work to do.
I can get a ride to Kumba with Ines who has a conference to attend there for two weeks, then i go on to Mundemba and the jungle (get your google maps out) I have been told to not travel alone but once you get there you are assigned a guide. It would be nice to share it with someone else though. I don't know.

Next week there are two Danish girls arriving and in May there is another Dutch volunteer. Also in May there are five Americans staying for two weeks then going on to Mamfe where i will go with them as i hear it's beautiful up there. So there should be fun ahead.

I've been to Jupiter

2008-03-31T02:24:00.000-07:00

The nightclub that is. Jupiter is the only nightclub in Buea and when approaching it in a cab its the only light that shines for miles around, like a gas giant in the night sky.

When we arrived there was a Makossa band playing and people sitting around skulling over-priced export staring at us. We were taken to a table in a neon-lit room where we listened to the music. It kind of reminded me of a greek mediterranean style bar with its tiled walls and plastic seats.
We drank export for 1000CFA, which i know is only a pound but my word, that's exspensive for here.

To get into the club costas 5000CFA!!! which is what i'd pay to boogie in Scotland. We were presented with a bottle of Grants whisky and two big bottles of coke though,which certainly sweetened the bitter taste in my mouth. I sat back and took in the scenery, mirrors everywhere with people vainly looking at themselves dancing in pulsing neon lights to a strange rhythm that i couldn't feel or understand. It looked like a club that Tony Montana from Scarface would frequent on the shores of Miami beach. We shook our bums to the beat and i drank sweet,neat whisky on my leather seat. It was pretty cool.

Then this guy comes up with this girl in tow. They said they were brother and sister and the formalities dispensed with he got straight down to business.

"You should take my sister to your country" he dropped that clanger as casual as hell.
"Wh..what?" i said nearly choking on my whisky.
"Take her to wherever you're from. Where are you from? he quizzed.
"I'm from Scotland" I announced proudly.
"Where's that?" he asked.
"It's down the road from Timbuktu" I said.
"Ah right. Then you will take her to scotlen....yes???" They looked at me hopefully.
"Eh, no" I said as diplomatically as humanly possible.

Meanwhile the poor girl hasn't said a word and is probably thinking to herself, Christ here we go with him trying to send me off with another white man to a country i can't even pronounce, far less point to on a map.

It was one of the funniest and funkiest clubbing experiences i've had in my puff.
Wicked, What?

Cynthia

2008-03-29T01:40:00.000-07:00

My next door neighbour Cynthia is a sweet 9 year old girl who comes over to my house so i can help her with her reading and homework.

She comes from quite a musical family who all get up at the crack of dawn and sing their hearts out...badly. Not one of them can hold a note!! it's actually quite funny to be woken up by a family all screeching away like a chorus of toothless cats. I wish i had the means to record it as it would certainly be YouTube gold. It's like living next door to the Waltons. They're happy though, so who am i to critisize.

Anyway Cynthia comes over and i help her read. She's got a long way to go but her level is far higher than i'm used to. She needs glasses as well cause when we've been reading for more than half an hour she says, "ay, my eyes are paining". I'd like to try and get her glasses but this will be dependent on the money situation before i go.

She's a funny wee girl and she gives me hell for smoking too.
"Don't you know you'll get a black heart?" she hisses with her arms folded.
"that's heavy, you should be a counsellor" I say
"Don't you know you're ending yourself?" Is her other gem
There's not really much you can say to that. "c'mon lets read"

Ines turns 30

2008-03-27T01:30:00.000-07:00

It has been an eventful few days leading up to school holidays. Firstly i got Meredith to cut my hair. She was rightly hesitant having never cut someones locks before, but with a gentle bit of cajoling and a demonstration on how to cut ones own hair (audible gasps from Meredith) she eventually started snipping away. The demon barber was born. It was much appreciated too as my hair is like wool that grows at the speed of light!!

On the 25th of March Ines was born 30 years ago. I arranged for the school on wheels crew to go out for drinks. A little side note about African culture here, when you invite people out for drinks that means you are paying for everything, including soya.
So i was a bit scared of 40 thirsty Cameroonians turning up. We managed to keep it intimate though. I made her a card with 'joyeux anniversaire' on it and put a few pictures in. I also bought her some ear-rings. She was sooo thankful, so unbelievably overwhelmed like i'd just given her a return ticket to the moon. Apparently birthdays aren't much celebrated occasions here.

Drinks were drunk and drinks made us drunk so much so that Ines was in no fit state to go travelling up a mountain in a taxi on her own. She crashed in my spare bedroom
speaking french in an unconscious state. Now one of the irrational things that scares me in this life are people talking in their sleep. I don't know what it is about unconscious speech that freaks me out, but it does. Especially when the person is saying 'merd, merd' over and over when you have never heard them swear when being awake!! Freaky.

Anyway it was a fantastic night. In the morning she said it was the best birthday she had ever had (humbling) and she also uttered the imortal words 'never again' with complete sincerity.

Books and Things

2008-03-24T01:50:00.002-07:00

Since i have been reading like a priest on Sunday here, more and more literature has been essential. Currently i have enough books to see me through the next few months, but when my supply gets low, i get my fix from books and things.

Books and things is a dusty little shack stacked with yellow-paged, dog-eared novels of every description. Once you get past all the Danielle steele, Dean Koontz and Stephen King novels, you can find a wee gem or two, it involves alot of digging and perservierence though.

One time i went down with my torch and a trail of breadcrumbs so as not to get lost. After finding old penny black stamps and amber emulets incasing mosquitos fed fat with dinosaur blood, i found 'cather in the rye'(which i've read twice but you don't find gold in a mine a throw it away cause it's not big enough) and 'cosmos' and 'contact' by Carl Sagan. Splendid.

Another time i was trowelling through a land-fill of books and the air was getting thick with dust and distant cries, i picked up this stephen king book at the back of this packed shelf and there was a bloody gecko lizard having a kip underneath it!! It had probably been there for years. The book was 'It'.

It's a cool place and it's cheap too. It is located right across from Buea university.

Buea school for the deaf

2008-03-21T06:13:00.000-07:00

If you are deaf in Cameroon, you can't rely on government help, as there are no government state deaf schools nor any financial assistance to speak of. Your pleas fall on deaf ears. It's pretty shameful.

All hope lies in the dedicated work of the NGO's (of which i think there are only seven or eight in the whole of Cameroon!) to teach you a wonderful language with your hands and the knowledge that you're not alone.

There is one such place i have been introduced to by a lovely Texan girl called Meredith, called 'the Buea school for the deaf'. It's a very well run primary school with dedicated staff and very polite, attentive students. They all sign good afternoon to me, so i've definately learned that sign through repetition.

The class sizes are small and they are filled with an air of positivity.

If children cannot afford to pay the school fees, they can pay in kind (some families provide crops for education, which i think is marvellous!)

It's an amazing place and the owners, Aloys and Margerat (who's from the midlands) are planning to build a secondary school.

They're also giving me sign language classes at a very reasonable rate.

www.bueaschdeaf.org

Here is Meredith's blog for more insight into Cameroon.

www.meredithcameroon.blogspot.com

Global raining

2008-03-20T01:56:00.000-07:00

It's been raining big style here. Strong driving rain that doesn't relent for anything.

The thunder is the loudest i've ever heard in my life too. There was a thunder bolt hit a tree outside my room that actually shook my bed. My ears were ringing and i damn near soiled myself.

I guess it's all part of the experience but i really didn't expect the rains to come this soon. I've been told it's unheard of to get such heavy rain in March, so i'll chalk it up to global warming.

I know America and China and to a big extent, the U.K are the main conributers to carbon emissions in the world, but you should see the state of some of the cars here. They cough and splutter black smoke when they chug up the hill and if you get caught behind it in a cab, you and mother earth share a collective tear.

Talking about cars, about 99% of the cars on the road here are Toyotas. Really they have so many vehicles here, no wonder they are the biggest selling car on the planet, everybody in Africa is driving one!!. I've never seen such a monopoly since armitage shanks got into the shunky business!!

Vocational unit

2008-03-18T01:53:00.001-07:00

So here i am, on my lonesome with UAC, the only foreign volunteer and it seems, the only white man in Cameroon. I'm being melodramatic of course, it's just weird living alone in this big house with only tarantulas for company!!

I'm extremely busy at the moment with school on wheels, remedial reading and now the vocational unit. The vocational department is one of the programmes at UAC which offers woodwork, electricity and painting classes to teenagers who are keen to get a trade under their belts. The kids all seem lovely, but i realise it's going to be hard work as their english and maths skills vary dramatically. I'll try my best though and hopefully i can depart some knowledge to them, but maybe not on long division.

My first class with them is today so i hope they take it easy on me.

Rain

2008-03-17T11:27:00.000-07:00

The rains are coming. Torrential downpours soak me to my very core. They are preceeded by giant, jet-black clouds sprawling over the sky with claps of thunder so loud that they make your bones judder. Then it falls in walls of wet that makes the streets flood and puddles gather where new rivers met to soak your feet in waters deep. The rains are coming.

The rains are coming. People run for a dry sanctuary but they are saturated in ten seconds flat, the rain beats beat down on their back, thunder so high it sounds like it attacks the sky, it’s at your back, splash in a puddle and run for cover, count the seconds from the flash to thunder. The rains are coming.

The rains are coming. It makes a soothing sound on my roof like I’m in a giant marracca and the proof that the thunder and lightning crashing proves as adequate accompliment to the rhythm and the movement of the friction filled orchestra in the skies. The rains are coming.

Abidjan

2008-03-13T02:12:00.000-07:00

If you decide to come and volunteer with UAC, I would recommend my local, Abidjan as your watering hole.
It is run by a very amiable chap named Frederique who calls me “my friend’ so frequently that it has become a running joke between us.

“Hello my friend”
“Hello Frederique, how are you my friend?”
“Good, my friend. How are you my friend?”
“Always good my friend, coke or export my friend?”
“Export cold my friend”
“Very good……my friend”

That is an exact quote of our conversation we had yesterday. He’s a lovely guy, he really is. Please tell him “his friend” from Scotland sent you, and he said you should call him my friend.

You can sit and watch the world go by and listen to some makossa music and if you’re lucky, Bryan Adams. Sip on some export for 450CFA (50p). If You’re feeling peckish there is Bobe’s soya stand right outside, which offers beef?? On a stick served with onions and a tongue-busting pepe spice.

Believe me it works!! I’ve tried it.

Spiders

2008-03-10T03:31:00.001-07:00

Personally, I would not class myself as a sufferer of arachnophobia. I have been known to carry house spiders at arms length out of the house with the tried and tested book and glass method. But the spiders here horrify me into fits of spasms and ridiculous jumps.

I told you about the tarantula in my bathroom that emerged from a hole in the wall like the beast from the land of nightmares, well now we’ve had another one just sitting on the curtain of the living room, just sitting there. It’s unbelievable!! And the last thing I volunteer to do is reach for a book and glass to escort the monster outside.

I’ve managed to get a few good photos of them with an outstretched arm holding a shaky camera. They have faces…that’s what I don’t like, you can see there ugly, wee pug face and multitude of eyes.

I wonder how such a brute could evolve over billions of years??? Considering that all of nature has an apparent breathtaking beauty.

I suppose that beauty is in the eye of the beholder though, as there are people who love these eight-legged abominations. I like to call these people weirdos.

The week passed

2008-03-09T11:27:00.000-07:00

Things are more or less back to normal here in Buea. When I say normal I use it in the loosest sense of the word, there’s still chickens digging holes in front of my house and staring at me and gravity defying lizards walking on my roof.

As far as the strike is concerned, it’s all over, for now. There is still clearly a bubbling resentment under the surface of peoples’ opinions like the lava that will one day rain down from Mount Cameroon when the pressure gets to high.

Food is re-stocked and there is cold beer to enjoy. The roads have returned to their previous chaotic state of incessant car horns and dangerous manoeuvers.

I’ve mainly been teaching with the school on wheels and remedial reading programmes. They’re going very well but sometimes the kids are hard to control when they’re hopped up on sugar and life. Steven Ndive (a teacher of class 4 at jamandianle) has joined the school on wheels programme and his help is much appreciated. He is also going to be helping me with the remedial programme when the other volunteers leave in a week.

I’m really enjoying teaching, I think with a bit more practice I could be very good at it. I like kids. I love their honesty and energy.

My french lessons with Ines are going okay. She is a hard teacher though, and she screws her face up when I speak in my franglais accent. I clearly have a long way to go. I am giving her guitar lessons by means of a trade. She’s gonna find it tough however, as she has the hands of a five year old child, but what she lacks in hand dexterity, she more than makes up for with enthusiasm and a genuine willingness to learn.

I’ve also started sign language classes at Buea school for the deaf. I know the alphabet and some other handy things to say. It is cool to actually say something meaningful in sign to my teachers, both of whom are deaf.

That’s been it really, once March is over I get to go on an excursion round Cameroon and hopefully see elephants in Korup national park. Also in April, Ines and I are going to go to Bamenda in the north, where she was raised, which should be both wicked, and amazing.

P.S I’ve noticed that a few people have been kind enough to leave comments on some of these blogs. Thank you. However, I cannot comment back as the computer says no, something about non-secure items that makes computers here make a farting noise. Could I ask that you e-mail me?

jwringe@hotmail.co.uk

The Queen of the Mountain

2008-03-01T01:28:00.000-08:00

On Tuesday the 26th of February, Bonnie took me to meet Sarah ‘Queen of the Mountain’ Etonge. It was the second day of the strike so I was a little hesitant of travelling but there had been no violence in Buea as yet.

We were picked up by Merideth (a volunteer at Buea deaf school) and Aloys, the man who started the NGO with with his wife some years ago. The roads were completely empty when we set off for Buea town to pick up Sarah, who was due to give a talk at the deaf school.

When I first seen her I was kind of shocked as to how frail and slight she was, she does not have one ounce of fat on her she had a very kind face. She is living proof that you should never judge a book by its cover, because to look at her, you wouldn’t know that she is one of the greatest athletes that Cameroon has ever produced.

What follows is a short transcript of the questions she was asked at the school, I have paraphrased a little as she answered in Pidgin sometimes but on the whole I have got everything she said.

You have run the race 13 times, what inspired you to attempt it in the first place?

I am a mother of 7 children and I draw great inspiration from them. In the beginning I wanted to do it for them, I wanted to work hard and train for them. I wanted to win for them too.

Can you describe to me what it takes to run the race?

There are two stages to the race, ascending and descending, I don’t like to climb up and I am not very fast at it, however I descend very fast. If you are a good climber you can not be a good descender, so you must work very hard to learn one part well. Some people are scared of falling on the sharp, volcanic rocks. I am not, I am very fast at it and this has helped me to win 7 times.

How was the last race on the 17/02/08?

I felt ready for the race, both in my mind and in my body. I avoided water before the race and I only had two slices of bread to eat. I had worked so hard and I came second. The girl who came first beat me by 3 minutes. I really wanted to win this one but I am happy with second.
I ran it in 5 hours 38 minutes. My best record is 5 hours 22 minutes. It takes me about 4 hours to reach the summit and the rest of the time to run down.

Has the race changed your life? How did it compare before to how it is now?

I have seen many things change here in Cameroon and with myself, there were hardly any female runners in the race and now that has all changed. I feel strong and proud of what I have achieved, and I am very proud of my family and my sons who are very good runners too.

What are your plans for the future?

I have to run, I have many cups and medals and I know that sport is a good thing. It makes you strong in you health.
The mountain race is very hard so that is going to be my last one. I want to continue with the marathon as I love to run and never stop. I want to see my son, Pierro, run in America. That is my dream.
I don’t know what else might happen in the future, perhaps the government can make me an ambassador….

So that was the day I met Sarah Etonge, it was a pretty special day cause the deaf school was amazing and I really appreciated what they were trying to do there. I’m hopefully going to take sign language classes. The kids were great too and they really enjoyed Sarah’s talk to them.

When we were coming back however, the tone of the day changed, a roadblock was on the road. I’m sure some boys were about to stone the car but when they seen Sarah they thought twice. It made me even more glad to be in her presence.

Peace?

2008-02-29T05:57:00.000-08:00

For a few days the strike has been quite violent. They made a roadblock up from my house and the police dispersed the crowd with tear gas and gunshots. It was the first time I had ever heard a gunshot in my life. It sent a shiver down my spine. The pop of tear gas canisters going of terrified me too, much to amusement of Bonnie, my first reaction was for my own safety so we all ran in the house, but then my next feeling was to get my washing in!!! I don’t know why but I just didn’t want anybody stealing my pants.

We stayed bunkered up with books and beer to the sound of a full scale riot going on. The news of accounts in Douala and elswhere were varied and it was hard to get the truth. It’s clear that people have died in many areas of the country, not just in Douala like the T.V news would have us believe.

Paul Biya, the leader of the Cameroonian peoples democracy party, addressed the nation on Wednesday. In his gravelly french voice he blamed the opposition for the violence and that they were trying to get him out of power through anarchy rather than the ballot box. It was clear that this kind of attitude was not what the mobs wanted to hear for appeasment and the violence did not subside the next day.

Things are beginning to return to normal in Buea on Friday the 29th of February, the people need to work and bills require payment. The stocks of supplies will take a bit longer to replenish however as everything is dependant on Douala and its ports. As is other big land locked countries like Chad and the Central African Republic.

It’s clear that this has been about more than the rising cost of fuel. Unemployment and corruption in a land of cash crops and oil have come to the boil too. People just want their voices to be heard, and I think they have.

I just wish they could have done it peacefully.

Riots

2008-02-25T12:04:00.000-08:00

The cost of fuel is a contentious subject all over the world. The rising costs evoce emotion from people of all walks of life, or should i say all drives of life.

The same can be said for Cameroon. There is been a taxi driver strike here that started at 6a.m today. The roads are ominously bare and the bars are full of opinionated people and fierce debate.

Cameroon is not a country on its knees but it is a country with poor upright posture due to social and political issues that have spiralled out of control in the 27 years that Paul Biya has been in charge.

Corruption is everywhere here, it has polluted every government institution and Paul Biya's party is doing its very best to ruin a nation rich in cash crops and people who regard hard work as a god given objective. Unemployment is rampant, rising inflation rates are not being matched by peoples wages. The people aren't happy. This strike is a catylist for something far deeper.

They are burning the bridges into Douala, and some buildings have been torched by angry mobs, tear gas has been usd to disperse them. there are reports of shots being fired too. Some private radio stations have been taken off air for putting out subsersive anti-government sentiment.

I feel the real bridge that the Cameroonians want to burn is the one that Paul Biya has taken them on for all this time, a bridge built on broken promises. However he is trying to re-write the constitution so he can now run for a further term. Who knows what will happen then.

Wow, i kind of feel like a war correspondant or something, this is yer man in Cameroon, from Molyko in Buea signing out, over to you in the studio.

Please don't worry mum x

Yesterday

2008-02-23T01:21:00.000-08:00

Yesterday was a strange day, I woke up feeling rather turdy, mentally and physically. On a walk to the buitingi school I found myself thinking about loads of stuff I missed, like driving and food and T.V (well I don’t miss T.V that much) and music and oh yes, my family and friends, naturally.

My word how I miss music though, I miss it with all my heart. Whilst sitting in Abijan (my local) this corny music started pumping out the speakers. Now all everybody listens to here is traditional Makossa music, R&B hits from 2001, and hip-hop (mainly 5o cent), but the drivel I was listening to was Bryan Adams ‘everything I do I do it for you’.A real stinker of a tune which stayed at #1 in the U.K for three centuries or something. Yet I found myself really listening to it, feeling the chord changes and the emotion in the voice of the pizza-faced Canadian warbler. It was damn embarrassing. Without a clue of what had just transpired I had another sip of beer and then ‘we are the world’ came on and the bit with Stevie Wonder singing almost made me cry!!, cry tears!!.

As I say, a strange day.

Luckily I have plenty to keep me occupied at the moment. I’m currently collating a fundraising proposal with Mr Orock, which has involved me interviewing all the staff and volunteers of UAC (there are 38 payed staff, 4 cameroonian volunteers and 6 foreign volunteers) so it has been no light task but I finally finished it last night and hopefully we can send it as soon as Mr Orock returns from Mamfe, where he is attending a funeral.All the information I collected can also be used to update the website as well, which is in dire need of up-dating.

Also I’m very busy with school on wheels and remedial reading, which are getting better and more rewarding every day.

Reading is still getting me through as well, i'm currentley re-reading 'A catcher in the rye' by J.D Sallinger, I love Holden Caulfield, I respect his ability to perceive phonies in this world.

It’s weird though whenever I feel slightly lonesome or down my friends always phone me and cheer me up, a coincidence I’m prepared to accept whole-heartedly.
Cunny, Phil, Moff and Kirsty gave me a wee drunken phone call last night. I was all tucked up sleeping under my mosquito/cockroach net when they called. I wasn’t surprised to learn that Cunny had had another ‘cunny tumble’, Moff had started propositioning young men in bars (I don’t know how kirsty feels about that), Phil had just played another gig (probably jazz or something, if I had to guess) and kirsty was now working with a princess in Ryans’ Bar. It was one the funniest phone conversations I have ever had, so thankyou.

I got back to sleep happy and the noise of the dogs howling at the moon didn’t even interrupt me.

Limbe Zoo

2008-02-20T02:22:00.000-08:00

Well i have finally seen a monkey in Africa, Gibbons, mandrills, colibus and chimpanzees to be exact. I went to Limbe zoo the other day for a wee excursion. They also had a massive crocodile, a python and some parrots too.

Personally i find animal prisons a little bit depressing but this place had one saving grace in that it is a sanctuary for the poor creatures that have been victim to mindless human acts like deforestation, the illegal exotic animal trade and people hunting them for bushmeat.

I gave a donation as well as the measely entry fee as i thought it was a very worthwhile inithiative and it did its best to educate kids and adults alike about the dangers these beautiful animals face.

Afterwards i walked to the beach and had a beer on Limbe beach and this girl chatted me up and wanted me to buy her a fish. She was very forward, or maybe she was just hungry.

There were many traders selling stuff on the beach and were more than happy to see me, i bought a necklace in the shape of Africa made from a coconut shell and a map of Cameroon, i love to barter so much.

I had a nice, relaxing day and i sat and watched the sun set over the Atlantic ocean with the mosquitos treating me like i was a delicious delicacy.

www.limbewildlife.org

The Race of Hope

2008-02-17T11:29:00.000-08:00

Once a year in Buea, Cameroon there is a grueling race to the top of a volcano, many people from all the provinces of the country and from all over Africa and from all over the world run it. It is regarded as an inspirational feat of achievement and it is called 'The Race of Hope'.

Let me, in my limited vocabulary, explain to you what these runners go through, I hope i can do it justice.

The race started today at 6A.M at Buea football stadium, they began their epic journey up to Buea town, and when i say up, i mean up. To get there you must find the stamina to run up the steady incline for about 20km. At some points the road climbs very sharply but this is by no means the hardest part of the race. Once up to Buea town they must tackle the 4017m high active volcano named Mount Cameroon. When the clouds clear it looms dark and massive in the skyline, it's a foreboding obstacle to climb with its loose volcanic rocks which cause frequent, race-ending accidents, to its steep savannah slopes which take you to the summit where the air is stingy with oxygen. You may be forgiven for thinking that the finish line is up there, but no, they must run all the way back down to where they started!!!. In the boiling heat!!!. It's insane.

Ines and I watched the runners collapse over the finish line at 11A.M, shoes battered, legs bruised with a look of either emphatic achievement or complete euphoric exhaustion, i couldn't tell which. Yet they all had hope in their eyes as they had just completed one of the toughest races on planet Earth.

I'm sorry but i didn't catch the names of the winners over the loud makossa music but i know the woman who everyone wanted to win came second. That is a woman called Sarah Etonge who has won the race a spectacular seven times, and finished second and third on numerous occasions too. She is known locally as the Queen of the mountain and she is an inspiration to many people here. She's also a source of contraversy as many people think she has won with the aid of black magic. There is an air of celebrity and myticism about her, everyone has an opinion about her. All i know is she has proved herself so emphatically that i think queen of the mountain might be a slightly un-worthy term. I think the local government realised that too as they have erected a statue of her today in Buea town.

My friend Bonnie has the privilage of training with her and she's going to introduce me to her, i'm going to try and do an interview with her and hopefully publish it here. That should be pretty cool because Bonnie says that her sons are very good marathon runners too and that they are looking for any kind of publicity so they can leave here to train more. Sarah must have an incredible story to tell as well.

Watch this space.

Douala Daytripping

2008-02-15T01:18:00.000-08:00

We went to Douala yesterday with the intention of doing some shopping. We got a lift from Amelia's brother Sam and all we had to pay for was the petrol.

Douala is the main port of Cameroon, it's massive with over 1 million inhabitants living out their lives. There's people selling everything on the streets, i'm sure with enough determination you could purchase a pink cadillac and a baby rhino on the same day. It's mad.
The roads are like the rollercoaster you were always afraid of when you were a kid, you find yourself pushing an imaginary break on the floor and making the occasional squeak, wincing i got out of the car and rubbed my tense knuckles which were white with terror.

There were big commercial buildings and banks and building societies (i saw a lot of white people) and the old German buildings from the early 1900's. It had a certain charm and i liked it.

There is one way to describe the heat and climate though......rude!. It was like walking about with a hairdryer on full pelt blowing into your sweaty face. It was extremely uncomfortable and it made me so glad to be in the relatively cool climate of Buea with it's high altitude and mountain
keeping the weather bearable.

There were a few places we wanted to go and Sam obliged without a grumble and negociated traffic jams without a murmer, but maybe with a blast or ten of the car horn.

We went to the 'marche de fleur' which is a big, bustling indoor market with many stalls/shops. This place was for the tourists and all the traders seen us coming. All the stalls were adorned with handmade artifacts like masks, maps, musical instruments, more masks, giraffes, tables and bowls and a couple of masks as well. Everything you'd ever need to take home basically and all your mask requirement needs met admirably

The place was alive with trading and i thought it had an incredible atmosphere. The salesmen were a bit pushy which the other volunteers didn't like but i thought it was wicked bartering with them. And man, can they barter. Everyone thinks i'm a millionaire here, especially these guys.

I was looking at these Kandindsky style paintings that this guy had painted when he seen me and smiled. I noticed he was rubbing his hands feverishly.

"that's beautiful, how much my friend" I inquired.
"40 000 francs" he said hopefully and rather coyly.
"pppffgh".
"okay my friend, name a price".
"8000 francs" i said to wind him up.
"pppffgh" was his mirrored response.

And on and on it goes, i love bartering, there's a certain patter involved, especially when guys are trying to sell to you at white man prices. I bought a few things but can't tell you what they are as they are for you guys. They're all really beautiful though and charming too.

After going to a few more places we went to citysport and i bought a Cameroon football shirt, which is wicked and is already starting to draw a few jealous stares from passers-by.
We also went to this amazing bakery which sold pizza, it was the greasiest, soggiest slice i had ever eaten and they were stingy wuth the cheese too, but it was like some kind of strange, forbidden luxary that i'd never tried before. I stuck four slices in my face. It was very, very good.

We came back in the afternoon and managed luckily not to be stopped by the police looking for bribes.

It was a cool day and lovely to see the place without visiting the airport and not worrying about my pants being returned to me.

National Youth Day

2008-02-11T08:47:00.000-08:00

Today is national youth day here in Cameroon. The whole wek has been a giant rehearsal towards this day. The festivities took the form of a massive march in front of Bongo Square with all the schools of Buea in attendance. They even closed off the road.

The streets were lined with awaiting proud parents, well wishers, men blowing trumpets in a loosely musical sense, men selling hankerchiefs and little girls flooging pineapples that are perched on their heads. It seemed like 100 schools passed before we seen the familar yellow and purple paradading by, arms swinging comicly high in formation with eyes pointed to the sky, as a woman on a stupidly loud sound system announced the schools fledgeling beginings.

It was quite sweet to see so many kids in their brightly colured uniforms of pink to purple, mint to mauve.

There is an estimated 15,293,000 people in Cameroon, of that massive number 15% are aged between 0-10. This prossession made me realise just how many kids there are, even in a relatively small city like Buea. Those humungous numbers don't seem so unrealistic.
I suppose thet deserve a holiday.

Bad luck to Cameroon who were defeated 1-0 last night in a hard fought match, one mistake seperated them and it was by their most experienced player, R Song.

Oh well maybe next time, or some other time in the future, there certainly is enough kids and they all love football.

Sports day

2008-02-09T04:37:00.000-08:00

It was Jamadianale's sports day yesterday, all the kids trooped the short distance to the field for a day of sprints, sack races, egg and spoon races, relays and a tug of war.

The field was buzzing with the sound of whistles and kids cheering on their classmates and bemused teachers shouting - "no..run that way". There were no lines or that drawn out for the races so it was all a bit hectic, in fact it was the very definition of organised chaos.

I was helping a few teachers with the class 3's who were competing in the relay and sprint races. It was fun for especially the kids who really seemed to enjoy the competitive element to it all. Plus they could all run like the wind, they're so athletic.

Ines came along too after she had a meeting with Henry about volunteering with the school on wheels programme. If she demands the same respect from the kids in the villages as she did from the cheeky wee dudes at Jamadianle, she will be a big asset to everyone involved.

Cameroon are in the African cup of nations final tommorrow. It's a replay of the first round match against Egypt. They got pumped 4-2 in that game, I wish with all my heart that they can take revenge and lift the cup, it'll be spectacular to be here if they do.

The Star Project

2008-02-07T00:43:00.000-08:00

UAC has big plans for the future. Their biggest being the relocation to the Buitingi school.

Currently the nursery school kids go to Jamadianle in Buea and the rest of the primary school resides at the as yet unfinished, Buitingi campus, which is located in a neighbouring village.

The Jamadianle school is where it all began, but with a rapid influx of new pupils they have been forced to rent more rooms to act as makeshift classrooms. This means that a lot of UAC's income is spent on rent instead of on materials, teachers salaries and innovative new programmes.

The classrooms are small and stuffy too, and it is a very busy part of Buea where the noise can be quite intrusive and not the best when you're trying to learn the alphabet. Also there is a mad, crabby old guy who lives in the school who shouts at all the kids, it doesn't feel like a school to me. It is temporary and i guess that every good thing must start somewhere.

By 2011, they aim to have the entire population of the school in Buitingi, including more kids from the surrounding villages attending as well.

At the moment there are 9 big, spacious classrooms built with another 11 in the pipeline. There are also plans to construct a proper fun playground for the kids, which would be superb. They also will be:

1. Larger and brighter classrooms, with Corner Room materials in each room.
2. Corner rooms packed with learning materials and a computer workstation.
3. Vocational training centre.
4. More and better toilet facilities.
4. A gardening space.
5. An office space for school administration and UAC staff.
6. A staff room.
7. A community hall.

The whole environment is will generally be far more conducive to learning and a much more peacful place to be.

It doesn't come for free however and they need assistance to buy more land and building materials.

Here is how you can help:

www.unitedactionforchildren.org

And by clicking on the star project on the right.

My weekly budget

2008-02-05T04:32:00.000-08:00

Here is my weekly budget here in Cameroon. To convert to pounds just take of three zeros.

I've slighty over-budgeted in some cases cause it's like playing monopoly here, sometimes money flies out your pocket. Who said Scottish people were tight?.

It is evident that if i finally quit smoking it would greatly de-preciate my spending, but i think this has been accurate of my spending so far.

The food and drink are bought because i've discovered soya sticks, which are beef on a stick basically served with a tongue busting spice, it's delicious but must be consumed with either a coke or a beer. They go down great for when yams are on the menu at the Orock house. I also like to have a wee ice cream when the sun is trying to melt my will to live.

WATER - 4000 CFA
PHONE - 4000 CFA
INTERNET - 2000 CFA
FOOD/DRINK - 5000 CFA
TAXIS - 1000 CFA
BEER - 2000 CFA
CIGARETTES - 5250 CFA
MISC - 2000 CFA

= 25,250 CFA a week, which is basically 26 pound a week, more or less.

Volunteers should be aware that i've had to spend a lot of money to retrieve my bags from Douala and i had to buy a sim card, a battery and a charger for the phone i was given. You also have to pay 1000 CFA to get your passport copied. So there is a few costs here and there.

I hope this is of some benefit to anyone considering a stay in Cameroon. It's also going to be a benefit to me as it's made me look at my spending, cigarettes still dominate my expenditure like back home, even though here it's only 5 pound a week. Even still i'm going to stop.

Cameroon won against Tunisia last night, the game went to extra time cause Eto'o was a bit selfish at one point thus passing the opportunity to finish it in 90 minutes. It was a great game though and i went to bed with the sounds of celebrations and car horns at midnight.

I hope they make the final, they play the hosts Ghana in the semi's.

Schools out

2008-02-04T11:49:00.000-08:00

It's good to be busy. And i am, which is fine by me. Here is what i've been doing at school and an account of all the other activities i'm involved in through the week.

Mondays to fridays i spend in the secondary school at Buitingi from 8.30am till 2.30pm. However school sometimes starts a little late as it is always a bit chaotic transporting 150 kids in three small mini-buses. The most kids i've counted in one bus has been 39 plus the driver and me. Dangerous doesn't even begin to describe it.

I'm with the class 5's who are a proper cheeky wee bunch, but who are absolutely lovely. It's quite an experience teaching cause the stuff i'm teaching i have to teach myself first!! When we do maths in the morning, my word, lets just say that my long division is a little rusty. I genuinely thought i would never see a bloody fraction again too but i was sadly mistaken.

Then Paul makes me do the corrections with them on the board!!So i really have to make sure i've done them right. This is where my trusty calculator on my old nokia 3310 comes in handy. I'm happy to report that my answers are always right too, i'm sorry for boasting here but maths was never my strong suit, so forgive me.

However the kids, unlike me, are quite good at maths after a bit of practice. They just need to work on their times tables. I taught them the hand counting trick for the 9 times table which they absolutely loved. I'm sure they thought it was a kind of magic.

Then they have an hour break where rice or bread is invariably on the menu. Paul always gives me such a big portion which makes me feel guilty. I give it away to the kids when his back is turned and i have a banana or two.

After their food and they've finished their manic dashes round the playground (or building site/mudpile, whichever you prefer) they come in do english and geography. It's quite heartening to know that these kids are being taught the dangers of de-forestation and how best to look after the environment. I hope the message sinks in.

My afternoon is spent marking dog-eared books with wee kids looking over my shoulder to see how many ticks they've received. The bigger and grander the ticks the better. They love their books to come back looking like a Jackson Pollock painting.

On wednesday afternoons the whole secondary school goes into their art, drama and music groups. I'm going to be helping Steven teach the music class and i'm going to have the kids perform a show at the end of term party in March. This should be cool but unfortunately there is no intruments...this is where the improvisation comes in. I've made shakers out of old bottles filled with rice and beers bottles filled with different amounts of liquid (not beer) shall do as a xylophone, add a few buckets as makeshift drums and my guitar as accompliment and we've got a band. It should be wicked.

Also on friday afternoons i've aggreed with Paul that i can teach them for an hour on a subject of my choice. I think i'll start by teaching them about Scotland, then maybe a bit more basic geography so they know where Scotland actually is. Also i'll teach them about the planets and the solar system and cool stuff like that. And maybe dare i say it....evolution.

So thats my week in a nutshell. Plus all the school on wheels and the remedial reading programme. It's a pretty packed schedule.

I'm off to watch the Cameroon v Tunisia match now. If you can get it you should be watching the African cup of nations, it's amazing, sooo many goals.

National Bi-lingualism day

2008-02-01T11:21:00.000-08:00

Bonjour,

Today is the 1st of february and it's national Bi-lingualism day here in Cameroon, a new government initiative to promote bi-lingualism in schools and throughout the country.
Bi-lingualism is the key to success and prosperity, according to all the posters everywhere.

At Jamadianle all the pupils put on plays about strength and honour, the art classes showed their fine works of art, a few nervous kids were ushered to give shaky speeches in french through an ear-piercingly loud sound system and the music class sung the Cameroon national anthem in both french and english. It was all quite sweet but the sun was baking hot so it didn't exactly make it comfortable to sit through.

Earlier in the day i went out for a walk with Ines, when i went to meet her at the internet cafe i noticed all the computers were gone and the doors locked up. Ines told me that the owner didn't pay the rent and a heavy mob moved in and threatened her and took all the computers as ransom till they get their money, so Ines is sadly out of a job and i am writing to you from a strange new internet cafe where chickens keep strolling round the room likes it's the most normal thing ever, well i tell you it's not normal, if anything it's bloody weird!!.

So i went for a wee drink with Ines and we discussed many things and i showed her my book i have on Scotland.
"what are these flowers in this field" she inquired.
"daffodils" I said, thankful that i knew the answer.
"wow, c'est beaux, but that's such a waste, you should only grow things that you can eat, they're beautiful but what a waste of such a big field" she said in her lovely french accent.

I suppose it is pretty strange, but so are chickens in a cyber-cafe.

Bon soir.

Volunteers needed

2008-01-31T11:32:00.000-08:00

United action for children has many projects in progress that benefit the children of Buea tremendously. The trouble is keeping them going when volunteers leave.

After looking at the folders of projects gone by, it has become clear to me that many brilliant programmes have fallen by the way side as volunteers who've started them depart for home. It's sad and frustrating because it's obvious that they were excellant projects enjoyed by many kids. Youth clubs, drawing classes, french lessons and a once thriving football club are to name but a few.

However there is currently a computer workshop in the cyber cafe which seems fruitful enough but there has been no internet at the school since i've been here.
Also there is vocational workshops for elder kids who desire to go on to learn a trade, which i would like to help with if i wasn't so busy with other activities and projects.

The programmes i have chosen to help with are 'remedial reading' and 'school on wheels'. And of course i'm teaching at jamadianle in the mornings and afternoons (more about that in another blog)

Bonnie, a lovely Canadian girl here on her governments' dime, revived the remedial reading programme after two Spanish dudes left and it subsequently dissapated.
It runs on Monday, Wednesday and Friday at jamadianle nursey school. About 25-30 kids show up who are of all ages and of who are at varying levels of literacy. We play word games with the use of phonics and we practice the alphabet with them and then we read them a story. That's if they're not climbing the walls that is.
None of them know the alphabet and their spelling needs a lot of work but again i experience the absolut willingness to learn and constant effort Cameroonian kids adhere to with respect to education. It's a great, effective programme and i enjoy helping out immensely.

The school on wheels is a project headed by Henry. It involves us packing a suitcase full of flashcards, alphabet and number games, puzzles and drawing books and driving out to the neighbouring villages of Molyko. It runs on Tuesdays and Thursdays and Tueseday was my first day doing it.

We went to Bockova and rocked up outside this magnificent community centre which looked like it had flown in from the 1970's, it was sooo out of place amongst these humble wee wooden shacks. Henry went to get the keys from the chief of the village as all the while these kids kept streaming towards us "uncle, uncle, teach me, teach me, I can count you know".

It was a truly amazing experience and a wonderful feeling i got doing this. It felt like i was doing something worthwhile and constuctive. I didn't even care how stupid i looked as i danced about singing the alphabet song to a bunch of five year olds, It was cool and one of the wee girls had the most infectious laugh i've ever had the fortune to enjoy. She was hilarious and i hope she is there the next time we go back as she was a wee ray of sunshine who brightened up my week.

So to go back to my earler point about what will happen to these worthy projects when we all leave. Well the wheels come off basically until other volunteers arrive or maybe not if UAC can co-ordinate volunteers to arrive as others leave thus creating a more steady stream of helping hands and not in dribs and drabs as they are now.

I wish the latter can be achieved as i hope i have elucidated to you. These are wonderful, inspirational programmes well worth saving.

www.unitedactionforchildren.org

All these things that I have done

2008-01-25T02:29:00.000-08:00

During my two week induction programme i've managed to pack in quite a lot of stuff.

I've seen the whole of Buea and met countless friendly faces and subsequently forgotten all their names (although they usually remember mine, pronounced - Jameson.) Been to bright, colurful and chaotic markets where anything and everything can be bartered for. I've seen the subsistence farmers on the mountain growing maize and bananas.
Wherever i've went to in Buea i've been welcomed with a curious smile and many, many questions.

I've been for a tour of the two schools and met all the teachers and some of the cheeky wee kids to unified chorus' of 'hello, hello'.
I've sat in on the class 5's and met Paul, who i will be assisting during my stay here.

Henry Sako has been teaching me Pidgin (a bastardized version of english mixed with french and german, which is what everyone speaks here) It's a very strange language but it sounds lovely.

I've been speaking as much french as my limited vocabulary will allow me with Henry Enoabane and my friend Ines at the internet place (everyone here is essentially tri-lingual, they speak english fluently, as they do french and pidgin, Henry can also speak his own dialect too which is native to his village, it's really pretty immpressive)

I've been to Douala to get my bags in the very definition of a crazy taxi (the record i've had is 8 people in an old rover estate, madness!)

I've been working out too, i actually do have muscles under my winter coat!!.

I've been to Limbe twice and dined under the shadow of a volcano.

I've also cleaned the house from top to bottom cause it was filthy like you wouldn't believe. It gets so dusty here, so it was probably a futile exercise, made me feel better though.

Not stopped smoking yet though!!! (the 50p price tag doesn't make it any easier either)

Other than that night times are spent reading copious amounts to keep away from 'the couple'. I've been reading like johnny 5 in short circuit!!
Already i've finished,

Hannibal Rising by Thomas Harris
A spot of bother by Mark Haddon
The life and times of the thunderbolt kid by Bill Bryson
The red pony by John Steinbeck

All i would recommend whole heartedly.

So that's more or less what i've been up to, next week will be a whole lot busier as i start teaching five days a week and i'm going to start organizing my music class, Mr Orock says the kids and I should put on a concert at the end of the school term, which would be fun.

Byes x

My Cameroonian diet

2008-01-22T23:26:00.001-08:00

Volunteers with UAC get three square meals a day at the Orock house - Breakfast at 7.30A.M,
lunch (which is the main meal of the day) at 2.30P.M and dinner at 7.30P.M. This all runs on Africa time you understand so they are usually 15 to 20 minutes late. This means however we get a chance to watch a snowy t.v with BBC world on or the Cameroon v Egypt match last night(Cameroon got pumped 4-2, i think Scotland would give them a good game) or we may be subjected to that damn Alicia keys song "don't walk". Very big hit here, much to my ears annoyance.

Anyway this is what i've been eating as well as a few wee cheeky things from the bakery when peckish.

Plantanes - I think they are a distant cousin of the banana, i really don't like them even when fried.
Bananas - They're so sweet here cause they pick them when they're green. Really nice.
Pineapple - You can by a giant one for 500F which is basically 5p to you and me. Juicy and delicious.
Apples - very sweet and good. Can't find green ones though.
Grapefruit - A bit to bitter for me. But they are cheap and plentiful.
Rice - Boiled of fried, very tasty and very filling.
Spaghetti - They cook it weird here, not like back home, i still stick it in my face though!.
Omlettes - Quite nice when they put tomatoes in them.
Tomatoes - They are tiny but super tasty.
Bread - It's wonderful here, so fresh and excellant with a bit of dairylea from the bakery.
Pancakes - Well good.
Yams - Uugh horrible, disgusting bland old yams. Not for me, It's like chewing on hardened wallpaper paste.
Chicken - Nice enough but i'm always weary about eating it cause the chickens roam free here and peck about and everybody (well i say everybody, i mean men!!) 'make water' wherever they please. It's a bit of a potential health disaster.
Fish - Is soooo good here, I had some right on Limbe beach with the hottest sauce. Brilliant. I've tried carp and barracuda. Delicious.
Cookies - Every now and then from the bakery.
Nuts - Every variety you could imagine. These wee kids sell them on the street for 1000f. They're really good. And they come in old Grants whisky bottles which is quite funny.
Sugarballs - From the bakery for much cheapness, highly addictive and great. Basically what we'd call a jam donut without the jam.
Water - Sooo much water. It costs about 2 pound for 6 1.5l bottles.
D'jino - A mixed fruit drink made right here in Cameroon. Very refreshing and it rivals bru in its healing capabilities.
Mutzig - My beer of choice, big giant bottles of the stuff for 50p. Wonderfull

So that's what i've been putting in my face. I hope that wasn't to boring but it was mainly for my mums benefit who has probably convinced herself that i've been rationing two bananas a week.

You see mother, I have been eating.

Bye. x

Jesus saves me?

2008-01-22T00:09:00.000-08:00

Went to a gospel church on sunday after being invited by my friend George - a born again christian. I thought it might be quite hypocrytical to go but on george's insistance and a genuine curiosity to see what it was like i went along. It was supposed to be my day of rest but i thought sod it.

The music was amazing with a full gospel choir and quite a funky band to back them up. People really let the emotion of the preaching and the singing take them. I looked over at george at one point to find him in floods of tears mumbling "i will do anything, i will do anything".

At the end of the show i was ushered forward to sign the visitors book. I thought i was just going to write a nice wee message like 'thanks for a wonderful morning the music was amazing' but when i got up front the girl with the book asked me which church i was with?. I said no church. The girl looked at me as if i were satan himself.

I was not allowed to sign the book as it was reserved for men of god.
It was quite an experience.

Yesterday i have been sick as a god...i mean dog. Woke up with a feeling in my stomach like i was trying to digest a lightbulb!. Of course the hypochondria kicked in and i thought i had a giant tapeworn snuggling up inside me, but no, it was sickness and diarrhoea of the very worst order.
As i write this on tuesday i'm feeling a lot better though.

On lighter news the water came back on yesterday (it's been off since friday). When i switched on the shower i almost started crying as i seen the water arcing out of the shower head. Praise jesus!!!. Never in my life have i ever relished a freezing cold shower more. I also got my laundry done too cause the pant crisis was getting critical.

See you x

Hello white man

2008-01-17T23:38:00.000-08:00

Hello Again from sunny Cameroon. Where it's oh so toasty and the crickets are defeaning.

I'm writing to you from a lovely wee internet cafe just outside of Beua town. It's quite high up cause my ears pop when i come here. The girl who works here is called Innes and she is cool and beautiful, we have an arrangement that she only speaks to me in french (which is one of the many reasons i came here, to improve on that wonderful language).

It's been a quiet few days for me here as i've been a little bit ill. I woke up the other day with the feeling my head had been in a vice so of course i thought i had the dreaded malaria, really it was just a mild case of hypochondria though.
In truth the mosquitos aren't bad here as Beua is at a high altitude and the mountain keeps the temperature relatively cool.

Next week i'm going to start helping Paul with teaching three days a week and help the other volunteers with construction the other two. Paul is yet another lovely Cameroonian chap to add to my list of friends. On the weekends he is a tour guide for mount cameroon and he promises he will take me up there. I think it's quite expensive though.

Spent a lot of time with Diane today, she is the girl who started the school with Mr Orock and she is also the namesake of Jamadianle nursery school. She's a lovely girl who i'm sure i can learn a lot from but unfortuneately she leaves in three weeks. So i'm going to be stuck with the couple from hell. God they're so miserabl and negative about things here. Maybe i'm the naive one and i'm the fool for being positive despite many problems, i just hope if i do this kind of work for life that i NEVER turn into them. oh well c'est la vie.

I think it's going to be an impossibility to put photos on this blog as the internet is slower than a panda in a hurry. So what i think i'll do is put them on at a later date, i've already got some wonderful snaps to show you.

Cameroon is an astonishingly beautiful place.

Au revoir.

One week in Cameroon

2008-01-17T00:19:00.000-08:00

Well here I am. I've been in Cameroon a week and it's pretty amazing.
It's a big adjustment to get used to the life and culture and crazy roads where people haven't even heard of the highway code, the giant tarantula in my bathroom and of course the humidity and heat.

I've been teaching once which was pretty nerve wracking at first but once i got into the swing of things it was a lot of fun.

The Cameroonian people are amazing and so friendly. They love to hear stories of Scotland, the place where we all wear skirts. My next door neighbour Nelson keeps asking me if i've brought my skirt with me.

This is just a quick post to set up this blog(which is a minor miracle by the way considering how dodgy the internet is here) so i will be back soon with more news.

Toodle pip and i hope it's not too cold where you are

x