Bamenda – “The Big City”
Our bus is making the various stops to let people off and I’m looking at the city with mouth just watering. “Wow! I like this Bamenda place.” And I’ve not even gotten off the bus. I mean, I’ve not yet been to any place in Cameroon that had street signs; and signs that actually had names on them! There were even make shift junctions.
Just imagine an area where there’s a road that runs perpendicular to another, at this meeting point, there’s either a small stack of tires, or some type of tin can or metal object to signify this is the junction. But it’s not bad.
So we pass what Akilah thought was our stop, but figured we weren’t going to far from where we should be. By the time it was realized we should’ve in fact gotten off, it was in another part of town. Not to worry, we disembark at the Mazi gare and walk over to the road for a taxi.
After about ten minutes one finally decides it’s a fair worth taking and picks us up. (SIDEBAR: now catching a taxi in Cameroon is not like in the states. First off, in city areas, about ninety percent of the cars on the road are taxis. Second, the driver will slow long enough to hear where you’re going. If he’s not going that way or doesn’t want the fare he’ll drive off. If it’s an acceptable fare, he’ll honk, signifying his acceptance; at this time you enter. Sometimes you may even be able to “negotiate” the price.
Finally, we’ve arrived to the PC house in Bamenda, affectionately called the “Slum.” The house is anything but. It’s in an area of gated homes, with beautifully manicured front lawns, and fabulous houses. Some more than others, but you get the idea. It’s not a slum area. You walk into the front of the house and its huge! There are three bedrooms, two private rooms and one that sleeps about five people, and three and a half baths. Slum?
Anyway, to get into driveway you have to open this gate by putting your hand over the top of a fence that a person my height initially had some difficulty doing. How do others do it? Finally getting the latch unhooked we proceed through the gates, at which time there are dogs barking. Now being from a city where people keep pit bulls behind gates like that, I instantly freeze. Akilah, however, decides to continue. She’s calling out “Hello?” and looking back for me. I stick my head in and decide its okay to enter, but as one of the dogs (Bandit in particular) sees me, he begins to snarl at me.
Personally, once you see the white of a dogs teeth, its time to exit; anyway possible. So I immediately go back out of the gate. Akilah calls for someone again, and Amy comes to the door. She let’s her know that the dogs are kind of preventing me from entering. Amy of course is like, “Oh its okay, you can come on; they won’t bother you.” (SIDEBAR: now, being from a city where there’ve been vicious attacks by dogs whose owner’s would say the same thing, and later comment, “but he’s never hurt anyone. . .” I don’t want to be Bandits test case)
I look at her and say, “Please get him, because I do not trust him.” After saying this about twice or so, she realizes that I’m not too fond of trusting Bandit right now. She goes to get him and he runs away still walking and barking towards me, and I’m holding my bag ready to swing if necessary (and for the animal lovers out there, I’m telling you now so you won’t wonder, YES! I would have hit him with my bag). She finally gets him and attaches his chain. I wasn’t worried about the other two; they were just spurred on by Bandit.
You might laugh at me, but what’s sad is that although I use the pit bulls as examples, these dogs are not. Don’t know what breed and all, but two of them are just shaggy-type dogs that in any metro area would probably be considered a mutt. The third? A puppy, but he didn’t matter; he’s just a puppy.
We go in with Amy, talk about who’s at the house; no one. Apparently everyone else is heading for Limbé for a big party one of the PCVs is throwing. Amy let’s us know that the hot water is working (that’s right the Slum has running hot water – no bucket bath tonight).
Knowing we’re hungry we ask for any recommended places for vegetarians, to which she gives a few suggestions. However, after walking back to the main road and unsuccessfully finding the one that was closest to us, we decide to catch a taxi to Handicraft (a restaurant and crafts shop). Dinner was nice (omelet, pommes frittes, and mashed potatoes). The view was just as nice (though I’m told its better during the day), as all you could see was a hillside with what appeared to be the winding road we traveled down to get to Bamenda. Absolutely beautiful!
Content from a fulfilling meal, we head back to the house and decide its best to take advantage of the hot water while it was there. Took showers and chilled for the evening.