Limbé – definitely a vacation spot (pt 2)

Prior to heading to the Etisah Beach Resort at Mile 8, I had to meet a few folks. Met Bill, and exchanged money with him. Bill was on his way to Yaoundé to fix a recent problem with his flight to London, for his two-week vacation. The problem? British Airways canceled his flight; one he’d scheduled back in September. Since its better to exchange your money with PCVs or PC staff persons looking for American money, he exchanged about $30 USD for me. You’ll get a much better rate if you can do it this way, as the banks may have excessive fees.

Then I met Becky. Akilah’s “stage” (pronounced ‘staj’ with a small A) mate, and the closest person to her post. We were going to Etisah Beach together with Anita, another PCV. Becky, Akilah and I took a walk up to the Limbé casse (pronounced “caz” – short for “casse de passage” – with a small a; that’s the PCV house here in Limbé) so that Becky could make a phone call. Wasn’t too far from the hotel either.

But before leaving for Mile 8, we had to exchange some money with Gaby. He was out in front of the hotel with Steven. So we exchanged about another $100 USD for about 70000 CFAs.

So now that we were ready to go, we picked up our bags and went in search of a taxi. Which in itself was an interesting feat, simply because I have too many bags. . .Bad part is, this isn’t even everything I was gonna bring. I ended up mailing a box of stuff because I had no room.

This was a hot day, and I was famished. Since I was fasting for Ramadhan I’d not had any eat or drink except for my pre-dawn breakfast of a macaroon and water. So needless to say, carry the bags and trying not to get to thirsty was an interesting task. I managed though.

We get to Mile 8 and I see that it’s a nicely quaint hotel. I’d give it about three and a half stars or so. I let Akilah, Becky and Anita walk around the place to select which rooms we should all get wanted. Carrying those bags was enough. Oh, how did I forget to mention that the taxi driver dropped us at the side of the road, and I’m thinking it’s a short walk to the hotel, right?

Well it is (like walking just a little further than you would from Wall St. to the World Trade Center), but not when you’ve got a sixty pound knapsack on, a carry on bag weighing about another fifteen and a messenger bag with a laptop and some books. What was I thinking of when I packed?

So after we put our items down and went down to the beach. This is where I first got an opportunity to see this “Black Sand” that the guidebooks refer to when discussing Limbé. It’s actually really nice, too. Turns out the sand is mixed with the remnants of lava from Mt. Cameroon. But if you consider that a little ways down the beach there’s an oilrig, you wonder which has had more of an effect; the lava or the oil? Hmmmm.

For dinner Becky, Akilah and I went to a restaurant that’s actually down the street from the Holiday Inn resort, T-Complex. Dinner was an omelet and plantain; a very good combination. I also had my first taste of pamplemousse (imagine a grapefruit soda), and surprisingly it was good. . .I’m sort of addicted now. Still getting used to the prices, I was shocked that we all just had dinner for the equivalent of less than five dollars, like just over 4000 CFAs. Guess it helps that all three of us are vegetarian and we don’t drink beer (a daily pastime here).

Black sand in Limbe
Black sand in Limbé

With a content palate we moved on to the FENAC 2000 Festival down the road. Here I’m in my second day in Cameroon and I get to see a festival with traditional dancing and performances, and I found out that this was the first such event the PCVs have seen. This doesn’t include the funerals some have gone to. Funerals here are done a lot differently than the states, and there was a little dancing there.

While there, I had to get used to the idea that I was the foreigner and everyone was staring at me because I was different. As time went on, I noticed people were looking at my shoes then my face. In Cameroon the people are very particular about their dress and are very seldom seen in the type of casual shoes that I was sporting; there’s no way I’m wearing hard bottomed shoes for a month and a half in a country that is primarily made up of red dirt roadways.

During the festival we got to see a Bamoun music group. Akilah picked this up after recognizing the type of music. There was an elder gentleman in the group who would occasionally dance out to Becky as to invite her to dance. I guess she was a little shy, because she stayed where we were.

A few meters away, there was a group we assumed must be from the North province Cameroon. This group seemed to be playing what sounded like an electric guitar and had some very lively dancers. For a while they also captured most of the crowd in that area.

There was also one other group from Maroua (the provincial capitol of the Extreme North province) I found their instruments very interesting. It turns out that one of the PCVs, Jason, is posted in the same area as this group.

It started raining after a while, and I was thinking, “hey, its the dry season, why’s it raining?” But I’ve not seen any since then. We waited about ten minutes for it to end and walked out to get a taxi. After almost getting hit by a pick up truck we finally got one.

About getting hit. Let me just tell you that I know I drive a little recklessly at times, however, I’ve got nothing on the folks from Cameroon. I’m shocked I’ve not seen any accidents the way people here drive; and I’m talking worse than the cabbies in NYc.

So again we get dropped off at the roadway that leads to our hotel, and as we’re getting out, all the PCVs realize they’d all forgotten their flashlights. In case you’re wondering streetlights do exist here, but for some reason they’re not used. Why? So now we’ve gotta walk this dirt and rocky pathway to our hotel, with virtually no light.

Now right here I could do a Timex Indigo commercial, because were it not for the light from my watch (a ’99 birthday gift from Akilah) we would’ve been hard pressed to not walk into one of the bushes or pits on our way. We made it down with only one person tripping a little. . .me.