It’s about status (pt. 1)
Well, today’s one of those days that just makes you wanna stop and shake everyone until they finally have the common sense shift into the appropriate quarter of the brain. We intended on leaving for Yaoundé about noon, however, because of a little “misscheduling” (and I use the term lightly) at Akilah’s Lycée, we had to leave a lil’ later.
So when we finally do (after eating the last of the fried rice and some pound cake) it’s in a car that’s going as far as Foumbot. Moungo only had two people waiting for the trip to Bafoussam. The ride there wasn’t too bad, not if you consider there were only eight of us in the five passenger car (that’s four in the front and back). I think we were stopped once by the gendarme, but it was eventless.
When we arrived in Foumbot the driver pulled into this gas station instead of the gare, and literally handed us over to a car going to Bafoussam. After scowering the outer gare area for like fifteen minutes or more we had a full load (almost) for Bafoussam.
The ride was really relaxing, I mean I’ve done it several times now, but today things were just peaceful. We even passed about five herds of cows along the roadway. Guess they were being taken to a feeding ground. I’ve gotta get a photo of these cows, they look nothing like the cows in the states; or maybe I’m just used to the wrong type of cow.
One of the passengers was a woman who obviously needed some immediate medical attention (maybe that’s why she was heading to Bafoussam). When she got into the car, about four or five flies followed, she moved slowly and moaning (as if there were pain in her liver or abdomen area) and coughed the entire ride to Bafoussam.
Akilah and I were happy to be near the window. I don’t like to poke at anyone’s misfortunes, but I’m also a person who is rather “particular” when it comes to health situations. Since we had a constant flow of air, I wasn’t too worried about catching anything.
We made it to Bafoussam – the eight of us in an even smaller car than the first – but since there wasn’t anytime to head over to the Bafferie II to leave a slice of cake for Becky, we jumped in a taxi and headed over to Binam. Now this is where folks just started bugging me a little more than what I wanted.
As soon as the taxi pulled up all the agency chargeurs must have noticed “le blanc” in the car. So naturally they ran up to the door and “acosted” us about taking their agency. The only polite one was the gentleman from Binam. He came to the door, asked Akilah if she was taking Binam, when she said she wasn’t sure, he backed off. Wow! Someone’s polite.
The others? Ha! They’re not so considerate. Once again I couldn’t understand most of what was being said but I was making known my attitude by my hand gestures and the stern look on my face.
Oh the taxi driver, well he told us he had change for 1000 CFAs when we got in, but had to go search for it when we pulled up. After a minute or two, he returned to the car unsuccessful. However, one of the chargeurs had some change, but do you know he had the audacity to hand me 300 CFAs (the cost of our taxi) and told us we could get our change from the agency. Ha!
I looked at him and said in plain english, “NO! Give me my change, I’m not doing that.” He’s talking, I’m not understanding, and I give him the 300 CFAs back. All the while the taxi driver is looking on with a smile, and finally says to the guy, “Do you have correct change?” Now if he could speak english, why didn’t he say something earlier?
The guy then says, “Oh, I’m sorry, I do have exact change.” You bet I took our money and rolled out. We went to Binam. Of course it made sense to go to the only respectable folks. Hmph. It’s about status. Even the woman at the window was extremely customer service oriented as we were purchasing our “billets” (tickets).
We figured it would take an hour for the bus to fill; I’m glad we claimed our seats immediately, it filled within fifteen minutes. Here I go getting into a little dispute with people I don’t understand and who don’t understand me. You know we like to select seats that will give me a little comfort in terms of leg room, so we took the two right by the door.
I’m sitting there getting my things situated, and all of a sudden there are like four or five people trying to get in. But instead of someone just saying “Pardon” their all yelling and pushing on me. I’ve had it. My response was, “well what do you want me to do? Get out of my way and I’ll let you past.”
You probably don’t understand why it was an issue for them to get into the bus. Just imagine a NYc transit bus, now where the aisle would be, there’s a seat! Yep, a seat for someone who also paid 2000 CFAs for the trip to Yaoundé, to sit (and that’s not just on a Yaoundé trip either).
I begin to motion to the folks to move out of the way if they want me to get up, because I’m not budging any other way. Thanks to a guy sitting in front of us, he essentially told them to back up so I could get off, and they did. Phew!
Finally, we leave, and both Akilah and I are amazed that there are only four persons to a seat on a bus that seats 30 bodies. It was too good to be true, turns out the driver sped out of the yard because he intended to pick up folks along the way. Naturally he had to line his pockets.
The first pick up was a gendarme from the gas station (I believe there was a gentleman too); do they even pay for any rides? Since that stop was one that had to be made, it wasn’t so obvious. While at the gas station there was a strange sight; a little boy walking around attempting to sell a rat to one of us on the bus!
See, in the states we would probably look at him like, “you fool! Are you nuts?” But here, I’m getting the impression that it’s a delicacy, like bush meat. You’ve not seen anything until you’ve been riding along a road and all of a sudden a guy stands out on the side and holds up a dead possum. Who in the heck would stop and buy the thing? Obviously somebody does if folks do it so often. Yuck! Oh what a delight to be a vegetarian.
The other strange sight while at the gas station was a casket. Not like on the ground or being sold, but there was a different agency bus pulling out and there was a casket covered on top of the bus. Where’s the hearse? And most importantly, was there someone in there?
Other than that the trip was just exhausting, between the driver playing the radio on “can I blow your eardrums,” to his stop and go driving it was nerve wrecking. The stop and go was to pick up and drop off passengers. Oh, and the pee break for a little girl that was riding with us. Again, I don’t understand the mentality of pulling over and doing your business on the side of the road; especially with a crowded bus looking on!
I tallied that he must’ve made at least 12000 CFAs on this trip. Guess that’s not a bad addition to your normal salary. Is this the way people here afford the Mercedes’ and BMW’s? I mean, I’m sure most folks make a decent living (that is most working for the government), but don’t they have families too? While it’s inexpensive for a westerner to live and travel here, it’s not the same for a Cameroonian.