The Countdown
We all decided to go to Handicraft for dinner and then to a hotel named Skyline; according to one of the guidebooks this place has a pretty nice “upscale-type” dance club. Not; but I’ll get to that.
Dinner was good. But I did finally figure out one way to ascertain that we don’t spend an hour or more waiting for food. Hopefully anyway. Guess as Americans we’re so used to placing the drink order then having the wait staff return for the meal order. Well first off, every restaurant here must serve the same thing because you’re lucky if you notice a menu and the staff assumes you know what they have. Furthermore, menus are probably a joke because they never have what’s on them anyway, so it’s probably better to just ask what they have to avoid being supped up and subsequently disappointed.
I wanted these banana fritters, so I asked the waiter to describe how they’re made (sounds like crepes), so I tell him I’d like an order. “Oh no, sorry, we don’t have any bananas. But we can have someone go pick some up if you’d like.” If we were in the states I probably would’ve said yes, but knowing how long it takes to do the basics here I opted out, and instead ordered pancakes and mashed potatoes. However, he returned about ten minutes after he’d left to fill the order. “In regards to the matter of the pancakes, it is not possible to do at this time.” By that, of course, he meant they couldn’t be made this late. Oh well, so much for looking forward to some flour; I order plantains to go with my mashed potatoes.
After dinner we ask the bartender about getting to Skyline, which is further beyond Handicraft. He tells us its too far to walk and too dangerous. Turns out Skyline is in the direction we entered when we first arrived in Bamenda; up the winding mountain road. So we stand in front of the building area to wait for a taxi. After about fifteen minutes or so, an empty bush taxi drives past and takes us there.
As we pull up in front of Skyline, we all notice how there are no cars in the front parking area, and it’s not until we actually get out and walk over towards the doorway that we even hear music. Remembering that most Cameroonians just walk to different places we don’t worry about the car aspect. In the states this would be a sign that not much is really happening. Turns out it may indicate the same thing here, as well.
We go down stairs and are actually kind of worried; the guidebook indicated that on normal evenings there’s an admission charged. However, there was no one at the door when we entered. Though we do hear music, we’re kind of wondering how things are if they charge on a normal night, but not on New Years’ Eve. Hmmm.
Once downstairs, we do notice there are a few people in a bar area, and more (though sparse) in another room dancing. We head out to the balcony area in front of us so the women can go to the restroom. As Anicet and I are waiting for them to come out, a gentleman comes out and asks me if we’re there for “Sideview.” Not understanding I end up asking him to repeat himself about three or four times, until I finally deduce that he’s referring to the “quasi-club area.” So I point and ask if that’s what he’s referring to. It was; so I affirm and he walks away. Don’t know what that was about, because I didn’t see him any more after that.
Well, turns out some things in the guidebooks shouldn’t be trusted. Though there was a nice selection of music, the Dj was not to our liking. Beside the fact that within the twenty-minute span we were there he played one song about two or three times, he was definitely not providing a party atmosphere. At least not one you’d expect on New Years’ eve. So we decide to go to the front and hope a taxi happens by to drop off someone.
The hotel is in an area that has no, I’ll say it again, no vehicle traffic, except for those specifically coming to Skyline. After fifteen minutes of nothing, we opt to walk towards the main road. So here we are four Americans and one Cameroonian, walking on a barely lit roadway in Africa to find a taxi. So any sound we heard we were sure to look in that direction to make certain that we weren’t victims of the infamous “armed bandits” that have been known to occasionally exist.
We probably end up walking a mile before a taxi that passed us when we first turned on to the main road, returned. Talk about happy. We immediately piled in and he drove off, mind you we hadn’t yet indicated where we were going. Not a problem, he knew where the Dallas night club was; there was a note in Slum book (where they keep menus and notes about establishments in Bamenda) about how nice the Dallas club was, but that it was of lesser quality than Skyline. This of course worried a few of us, because if Skyline was supposed to be one of the most happening spots, and it wasn’t, how much worse could this one be.
The driver drops us off in front of Dallas, but as we walk in, we notice no one dancing. We do hear music, but its coming from a television that showing music videos. Hmmm. We’re at a bar. We grab a table and decide to stay there since its after 11:30pm. We all place our order and just kind of release with happiness that we won’t be walking along some roadway when midnight strikes.
When the barmaid returns with our drinks, Akilah asks if the downstairs has a dance area. She tells us there’s only the kitchen and rooms (this is a hotel, hmmph). She asks if there is a dance area, and we’re told that there is one at the main hotel further down the road. Now when Anita told the driver we wanted to go to the Dallas nightclub, why did he bring us here? Oh well, at least we’re sitting and warm.
Yes, warm, in no way did I expect to come to Africa and be cold. Usually I like cold weather, I mean I’m an October baby, but when I’m expecting heat, I don’t want to fill chill. (SIDEBAR: if you come to Cameroon, or probably any country on the continent for that matter, I would bring long sleeved shirts. Why? Well if its cold you can keep the sleeves down, if it’s hot you can roll them up. But either way you’re comfortable. If you’ve got short sleeves and no jacket, you’re nixed.) You should see my face when I see Cameroonians wearing coats that we would wear in the states only when its below freezing or snowing. Somehow I just didn’t picture this scene.
This is New Years’ Eve right? Where’s all the fanfare? All the folks buzzing with excitement? Well they’re somewhere, definitely not here. So as the clock tolls closer to midnight we decide which of the three watches has the correct time. We choose Anita’s since her watch indicates a time almost midway between Becky’s and mine. At 11:59:15 we say a few quick words to symbolize a toast, and then clank the glasses to bring in the New Year.
It’s 2001. Where’s the fanfare? Oh well, as I tell Akilah, maybe its just more commercial in the states. She’s kind of disappointed that we didn’t countdown, so later when we’ve returned to the slum, she and I do a make shift countdown; gotta keep some things the same right?