Alright, so I'm mostly past the whole being surprised at Cameroonian modes of transport - the endless waiting (to load the vehicle, to get gas, to leave, to wait while some broken down part gets fixed), the cars that are about as old as me and function as well as someone dying, the driving on "roads" that would never be called such in America, the cars being packed-to-the-gills-and-then-some, the dust visible in the air and filling your lungs. However, yesterday's harrowing 9-hour commute to banking in Yaounde was pretty miserable. See if you can make sense of the following happenings from the day:
- chicken shit on the floor of the van
- wooden canoes to cross a river, carved from large tree trunks... with outboard motors
- stopping every five minutes to say hello to people as we pass by villages
- pretty much everytime we stop, at least one man approaching me to ask for my phone number; some not even repulsed when I say flatout: "you do not interest me"
- "Wow, you got suntanned!" [I lick my fingers and rub my face] "Am I still tan?"
- reading "War and Peace" out of sheer boredom. It's possible that it only makes me more bored. - the guy sitting next to me checking my watch, despite the fact that he's already verified that his watch is one minute faster. The same guy constantly checking over my shoulder anytime I pull anything out of my bag
- the travel agency operator telling two passengers to get out because the car was too full, resulting in a shouting match and general testing of testosterone and manliness between said operator and a passenger. Passenger's screaming delays departure by ten minutes. After the dispute, passenger and operator jovially laugh with each other: "no hard feelings"
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4 comments:
I'm really glad you can cope with the transportation system. I'll be really, really glad if we can do so if we visit you. xxoo Mom
hi pretty girl,
i was so, so sad to miss you on sunday. work has consumed my life, but in a good way. i love it. although it is the complete opposite of your life, which i think is why i have been a complete slacker in sending you my email/life novel. when i read about all the amazing things you are doing, my life seems quite shallow in comparison (but i will send it anyway if only for your amusement). regardless, i am so proud of you and inspired by you every day.
also, keep an eye out for a box-type item that will hopefully arrive someday in the (near) future. i kind of feel like i'm sending this thing into a void, never to be heard from again, but we'll see.
anyway, i love you always and will be ever-hopeful that i catch you next time you are banking.
kisses,
alison
Becca, how can you cope with that craziness? It sounds awful, miserable, and dangerous. I'll be so glad when you're back!
Love,
Dad
Hi Becca-
I hope you don't mind that I'm reading up on your adventures too. It sounds simultaneously totally foreign and totally familiar. The Philadelphia Septa system has been functioning on the bush-taxi system as of late, complete with cabins so full that passengers have to stand between cars on moving trains when it's -4 outside, the overwhelming stench of human excrement, and weirdos who sit too close and stare too much. Hope you are working on memorizing the cranial nerves/brachial plexus/etc.
Rachel
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