A Day in Bamenda

Well today was actually a pretty good day. We planned our schedule and amazingly it flowed without even a hitch. We decided to go to Commercial Av. to shop at the market and have lunch (actually it was brunch, but who cares). Bamenda in the day is like a bustling section of Brooklyn, NYc, busy, busy, busy.

So we take a taxi to Commercial Av. and get out about a block from the market area. Before proceeding there, I notice a Gendarme in front of a bank across the street. Hmmm, a bank open on Saturdays? We walk over and the officer confirms to Akilah that the branch is open. This is perfect since I still need to exchange some money. We had enough for the weekend, but its better to be safe than sorry; especially here.

As we enter the bank, we’re greeted by a gentleman we assume is a customer, but turns out to be one of the customer service reps. He escorts us to his desk upon find out my desire, and asks how much I wish to exchange. I inquire of the current rate and he tells me it is 700 CFAs to $1 USD. This, of course, is a better way to exchange right now since some banks here are known to charge hefty fees for exchanging money. I end up converting about $100.

Off to the market, but first we stop at this Gracie’s restaurant to place our order for lunch. Akilah figures its better to put the order in while we shop. The last time she and Becky were there, their food took about an hour and a half to be prepared. We ordered omelets and chips (I think this is becoming my favorite dish here).

Now we’re ready to continue to the market. While doing so, we’re discussing the fact that here in Bamenda, there seems to be an obvious consciousness about certain things. See, in Cameroon, unlike the states, its not frowned upon if a male chooses to relieve himself on the side of the road or almost anywhere for that matter. (I have no clue why) However, in Bamenda, there were signs prohibiting this. Its also common practice for folks to throw their refuse anywhere on the street or roadside. Once again, here there are trash bins and signs discouraging such behavior. Why aren’t the other areas doing this? (That’s probably more for a philosophical commentary.)

So as we enter the market area, I’m commenting on how this is the first time I’ve seen folks begging for money. There was an older gentleman just before the market entrance, with a bowl on the ground for coins. But most interesting was the lighter complexioned, straight haired, girl of color who tapped my arm and made a motion towards her mouth for something to eat. Hmmm??

We kind of walk through two aisles ceremoniously, but then head for the last one which is where the fabric is. Not, however, before Akilah notices some nice posters at one stand. Turns out there were quite a few educational oriented posters (pictures and english/french names of animals, and the like). This was a buy she couldn’t pass up.

The gentleman informs her the price is 500 CFAs per poster, which of course is way too high. She tells him she’s teaching Cameroonian children and he should give her a deal on them. (There’s also a football – not American – poster of the Cameroonian team; this of course is for her.) I believe the first price he goes down to is 1600 CFAs for four posters, which is the number she ends up selecting. Still to high, she lets him know, these posters are obviously not for her, as she already knows her alphabets and animals, but are for his Cameroonian children she’s here teaching. She tells him she’ll give him 1200 CFAs for the four. Sold! Why can’t we shop like this in America?

One of the purposes of this trip to Bamenda was to purchase material and take to a tailor to have some cargo pants made. So we continue walking and pass by two stands, they don’t have anything worth purchasing; though there was quite a bit of nice material for dress pants. I walk past another and decide there is some really nice material there for dress pants, though nothing for cargo. We ask the guy about the price; 2500 CFAs per meter. Woo…too high.

We estimate I’ll need at least a meter and a half to have some nice pants made. After deciding there are two fabrics that I really like, we ask him the price for a meter and a half; 4000 CFAs he tells us. Now, he knows were obviously competent adults, and knows that if a meter is 2500 CFAs, an additional half should not cost another 1500 CFAs.

Irritated at this attempt, Akilah talks him through the math to show that he surely must of meant to say 3750 CFAs for the meter and a half. Here is where I almost made a crucial mistake. While we’re negotiating the price, Mr. Techno here (that’s me) decides to pull out his handheld PDA to use a conversion program to figure out the ratio of meters to yards. Wrong move. (SIDEBAR: folks don’t do what I did, if you’re gonna talk the “I’ve got no money role,” you really have to play it. Pulling out a device that costs $500 USD doesn’t help) we escape from it unscathed, as the guy just thought it was a fancy calculator. I over heard him asking his friend if he “saw the calculator I used.” Phew!

Akilah tells him we’ll give him 7000 CFAs for a total of three meters of the two different fabrics. He hemms and haws about it, but gives in after she tells him he knows that is more than fair for the fabric. After we left from there she felt as if she could’ve gotten it for less, but decides its still a good buy. I just bought three meters of material for ten bucks. I don’t know what the rate is in the states, but I know it’s more than this.

We continue on, passing quite a few other fabric stands, until I finally find one that has the material I want, though the color style is slightly odd. The gentleman tells me the cost is 4000 CFAs per meter. Damn! It is thicker and nice, but just a little more than what I want to pay. This time I’m left to fend for myself during the negotiations. He tells me if I’m using them for trousers, I’ll need at least a meter and a quarter and that’ll cost me like 6000 CFAs. Okay, where is he going with this?

Quick to let him know I like the material but not at that price, I play the stall game and look inside at some other fabrics. He tells someone who appears to be a son or grandchild to prepare the fabric to be cut for me, but I tell him not yet, and not at that price. We haggle a little. We’re now down to 5000 CFAs. I play the “I’m thinking, but my mind is actually blank” role and say, “I don’t know.” We finally end on 4000 CFAs for a meter and a half, knowing this is a good price, I still persist in seeing if I can get him to go lower, and tell them I’ll look around for some other material before I decide.

Realizing no one else has anything like the material he has, I decide to go back and purchase the fabric. Naturally, he tries to say the price agreed was 5000 CFAs, but not to be taken so lightly, I remind him of our agreement; he concedes. So now I’ve just purchased another meter and a half for about five dollars and change.

That’s now just over fifteen US dollars for four and a half meters of fabric. As my roommate, Eric, would say “I came up!” (you know, made out well.)

Now I’m done for the day, and go back to Akilah who is negotiating a price for some fabric she likes. She ends up with about four yards of material for 4000 CFAs, a good deal. However, later we find out, they actually shorted her about three quarters of a yard. That’s all right; we’ll get ’em next time.

Off to lunch. We arrive at Gracie’s and notice that they guy is obviously just putting our omelets on the fire, that’s fine. We eat farmer’s omelet and chips, and have some water. It was a nice little place. No lighting, except for that provided by the sun through the windows, but its cool.

We leave here and go to a store next door. Just to window shop really. We end up purchasing postcards, they were 150 CFAs each, and the one’s I saw in Foumban were 450 CFAs each.

Now its time to go to the market. Not the one we just returned from, this time the food market.