Welcome to Cameroon

May 1-May 2
After some last-minute packing (is there any other kind in my life?), Tanya, Maggie and I dashed to the airport. Of course, Delta managed to lose my luggage IN the airport, which set me back 45 mins, and I barely made my flight to Paris. Charles de Gaulle airport is still horrible but the copious amounts of wine served by Air France makes it worth traveling through. From there I flew to Douala, the economic (but not political) capitol of Cameroon. Although we got in on time, it took 30 minutes to get through the numerous health and security checks and screenings, which really serve as opportunities for government workers to extort bribes from tourists. (Cameroon is rated one of the most corrupt countries in the world, and a little money to civil servants is required to get anything done.) I made it through without trouble, and while my bag arrived, my ride did not. Douala airport is a crowded, hot chaotic mess, which smells like sweat, dirt, spices and urine (i.e. the same as any Indian airport), and full of pushy taxi drivers who try to take you to a hotel where they will get a commission. Although it was pouring, I waited outside, hoping to see someone holding a sign with my name- no luck. After a minor freak-out/foot-stamping, I went back inside, made friends with the Air France luggage representative, convinced him to let me use his phone for free, and called a couple of my local contacts, finally get in touch with the man, Mr.Orock, who was supposed to pick me up. He told me that he was just entering Douala and would be there 'soon'. Turns out 'soon' was in African Time, so that meant 1.5 hours later, making him 2.5 hours late. Tired, sweaty, and frustrated, I finally met him and Tako, another United Action for Children (UAC) worker at 6:30pm, after suffering the harrassment of many obnoxious drivers and girls trying to sell things/soliciting for hours.

Mr. Orock, the Project Coordinator for UAC is a man in his 40s and seems to know just about everyone in Cameroon. Apart from his job with UAC, he is also the head of vocational education for the county, and 'second deputy mayor' for the city of Buea. Turns out these are valuable titles. After driving out of Douala, a sprawling, polluted city comprised of slums and French quarters, we encountered 3 police checkpoints. (In Cameroon, its is required that everyone carry an official form of ID with them at all times; these checkpoints are really another chance for the government to extort money from those people who forget their IDs. ) Although there were two "White Men" in the car, (myself and a Canadian volunteer named Valerie), we did not have to show our passports, thanks to some name/title dropping by Mr.Orock.

It took 1.5 hours to drive to our new home of Buea (pronounced 'Boy-ah'), located at the base of Mt.Cameroon, the highest point in West Africa. The scenery changed from urban overcrowding, to palm trees to dense forest in the matter of a few miles, an example of Cameroon's varied environment. Buea is the seat of the Southwest Province, but is just a small town which centers along one main road. Valerie and I, along with two Danish girls and a Scottish guy who were already there, would be living just off the main road, next to Mr.Orock's house. The complex, a set of three, one-story, white-washed buildings sits on a dirt road near the UAC school. Our rooms are pretty austere- concrete floor, just a bed and small desk for furniture, and our electricity and water are intermittent (and thus we dont have a flush toilet). On the plus side, in our large common room there is a pretty good library, thanks to other interns who left their books behind. This will be priceless, since we dont have TV, a radio, or regular access to a computer/the Internet.

After dropping off our stuff, we walked next door to the Orock's, which is where we eat all of our meals, and met his family. His wife Amelia is nice, although a bit scary, and he has one son and three daughters who live at home: Dan (16), Kelly (10), Evelyn (6) and Clara (2), who has quickly become my little sidekick. There are also a number of nieces, nephews and miscellaneous people around, and its amazing how many of them fit in the rather small house. Even though the Orocks are rick compared to their neighbors, their kitchen is so small that no more than 3 people can fit in it, its rather dirty, and there is usually no running water or electricity. However, great food still emerges from it.

After such a long, crazy day, I crashed at 9:45pm, exhausted but happy to be in Cameroon.