Capitalism wherever you want it (pt. 1)

We left about a half hour or so later than what we wanted to, but that’s better than waiting until the middle of the day. When our taxi arrived at the gare on the edge of town we had to wait about twenty minutes for a car to Bafoussam. Actually, we wouldn’t have taken the car if it weren’t for a teacher from Akilah’s school indicating it was going to Bafoussam.

Sometimes it’s hard to tell who’s actually going where they say they are. That’s a big problem here and even Cameroonians are disbelieving some of the chargeurs when they say it. People are tired of being burned, and I can’t blame them. Guess there are somethings people will not stand for, huh?

The teacher was Mr. Mojo, he was teaching english at the school, but has taken ill so he can’t do anything more than the sports he’s doing. His wife, who was also in the gare area, is also a teacher there. I believe math. It wasn’t until that moment that Akilah realized the two were married and that one of the students in her 6eM class is their daughter.

Well, we made it to Bafoussam rather quickly, its about 50km or so from Foumban and not a bad ride. Once there we headed over to the agency area to get a bush taxi to Bamenda. When we arrived at Savannah, we saw Akia and Todd, two other PCVs here in the West province. We tried to get on that one, but it was full. Oh well, we waited for the next one. By the time it filled and we left it was only about a half hour difference.

The only problem with this ride was during one of the document checks, one of the guys in the front didn’t have his. The gendarme who stopped us was going to detain him. However, after ten minutes of discussion, the driver finally went over to the gendarme and gentleman. Actually, he reappeared, I should say, he’d gone off somewhere behind a building.

Next thing I know, the driver has a particular interest in the magazine the gendarme is holding. He seems to reach under it to look at the cover, but during this brief viewing, I notice he’s providing the gendarme with a “petit cadeau!” Now all the time I’ve been here, I’ve heard folks alluding to the fact that people bribe gendarme, but I’ve never seen it for myself. The wind was almost knocked out of me when I saw it, and I couldn’t say anything. Who would care? It was as natural as it was for us to breathe.

First stop after arriving in town was past a Laking store we’d not noticed before. Akilah’s really on a pagne binge now, but I won’t tell her. I’ll see if she recognizes it. After that, we stopped past “Frank & Sons.” I promised this guy I would stop past and see him when I returned to Bamenda.

When I did he was happy to see me; asked if he could seat us while he finished with a customer. Since we were a little pressed for time, Akilah went on to a market area to pick up some satin for one of her outfits she’s going to order later, and I stayed to receive his hospitality.

It’s interesting how folks here treat you. They immediately send someone, or go themselves, to fetch you a cold drink. It’s protocol. Not many folks in the states would go through the trouble, but it’s unheard of to do anything different here. Guess it was an hour or so buy the time we finished. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Akilah coming to take a seat.

Later she told me I’d drawn a crowd of on lookers outside of the store. They were all just standing there staring at me doing business with Frank. I had no clue, because I sat with my back to the door, which is extremely uncharacteristic of me; absolutely unheard of.

Needless to say, by the time I got up to go, Frank and I were shaking hands on the beginning of our new Import/Export collaboration. We’ll see how it goes. Hopefully this is something that will be worth me coming back to Cameroon on a “strictly business” trip.

I’ve been in the country four weeks for vacation and already I’ve done two business deals. Am I a true product of the American capitalistic system? You bet. I’m gonna get my piece of the global pie – as an idle of mine said – “by any means necessary.”