Maroua, in the flesh
The morning began with us checking out of the casse and Akilah donning her helmet for the moto ride. We were actually not far from the bank, so the ride took no more than five minutes. We went to BICEC first, since Credit Lyonnais was closed. They’re exchange rate was five percent of whatever the day’s rates were.
However, since their computers were down nothing could be done. We stood outside for a few minutes and noticed the line in front of Credit Lyonnais was gone. That meant they were inside, so there we went. I’m actually glad we did, as this was the most accomodating place since I’ve been here. Initially we were floored by the fact that this bank had designated lines for various services. How’d we know? There were signs posted!
We found our way to the correct area and were waiting patiently for assistance when a gentleman walked past and asked if we needed help. Instantly, I knew from his fitted suit that he must be the manager. After he told us someone would be right with us, Akilah asked if he was the manager. His response was, “Only sometimes;” and he said it with a smile.
The women he directed to assist us came right over and began asking our needs. We told her what we wanted, and waited as she searched for the current rate. After a few moments she came back to us with the necessary information.
Shocked, it took us no time to decide to exchange the traveler’s cheques. Naturally, I was asked what about the receipts, which I’d brought with me just in case. Once I decided how much to convert, the woman directed us to the line where I would be able to receive the money.
After an hour in line, and various people getting fussed at for trying to jump the line, the cashier directed us to another end of the bank to receive the funds. Afterwards, we decided to walk over to “Restaurant de l’Artisanat” and look around. But what started our as a window-shopping venture turned out to be a shopping spree.
As soon as we walked into the hall, the entreprenuering vendors immediately hounded us. They weren’t really bad; it’s just that there were so many of them. At one point it seemed as if someone was telling them who should try next. We passed by the first four booths or so with a quick glance. Then as we passed by a table of leather goods, we were halted. The guy had some pretty good wallets and change purses, so I wanted to check them out.
I had no intention of buying anything, but the vendor’s persistence intrigued me. So I began bargaining for a wallet (6500 CFA) and a women’s wallet (5000 CFA). This guy was pretty shrewd, but more so because of his innocent look than anything.
I immediately went to cinq mille; and naturally it was too low. He asked for eleven-five, and I cringed. I now tried for six mille, and he countered with eleven. Essentially, we went on until I finally said eight mille and held firm. He tried to stop at eight-five mille, but I gave a sob story of needing to eat. He laughed and said he needs to eat too; that eight mille would be for his father, and 500 CFA for him.
Noticing he was about to lose a sale, he finally asked for eight mille for his father and a cadeau for him. The three of us laughed as Akilah and I tried to figure out what to give him. Our friend suggested that since he was a 2ed (seconde) student, that I give him a pen (le bic). I had to rummage through my knapsack to find one, but I managed. We shook hands and I walked on with my first two pieces from “d’artisinant.” Only if he knew how much he had a resemblance to Will Smith.
My cost in US dollars was $11.43! Darn, wish I had more time to haggle a little more. Not to worry, I still had a few stalls to walk past. Akilah saw some batiks she liked. We stopped at this stall to get prices, but kept moving. Had to see if anyone had something similar.
We walked past a plethora of stands, but didn’t do more than browse and say no until we were just about near the door. Right then we stopped at a stand witn shoes. This guy, Mohamadou, is a shoemaker; and can create shoes to order within two days. Too bad we didn’t come here first.
Anyway, Akilah was looking for a pair of comfortable shoes. She’d bought a pair of cheap Nigerian ones when she first arrived, but they broke after two wears. However, he had a style she liked. While Akilah perused the shoes, I looked at the batiks this guy had. They didn’t have the blue backgrounds like the ones Akilah was looking at, but they got my attention. They’re cream-ish with brown and black inks, and occasional colors that accented the paintings.
The older guy who saw I liked them came over and offered them for 4000 CFA each. I saw one that I liked as a gift, and offered 2000 CFA. He went down to 3500 CFAs and I stayed at two; he went to 2500 CFA, I remained at two. Sold!
I later told Akilah that he probably just sold ’em because he knew I was about to leave out without purchasing another item. Once she found her shoe size, it didn’t take much to convince her. He wanted 8000 CFA, but she started at, and stuck to 5000 CFA. After two minutes, we were walking away with her shoes. Good job.
It was now necessary to visit the gentleman at M.T.A. and see what kind of day tour he could put together for us. After about ten minutes into the conversation, we pretty much knew we couldn’t use their services. Though he was extremely nice, the price he mentioned was too much. If we wanted to tour using a car it would 20000 CFA per person, 8800 CFA for petrol, and 1500 CFA for touring Roumsiki.
If we wanted to take motos, it would be 1000 CFA each way (per person) on a bush taxi to Mokolo and 5000 CFA each way on a moto from Mokolo to Roumsiki. Considering how fond Akilah is of motos, NOT! We opted to try for the car at the moto price. It took a half hour to get him to understand we were not bargaining, but all we could do was pay about 20000 CFA.
Even after that he still thought we were trying to bargain. He thought it was because we doubted the price. Though no matter how he fixed it up, somehow the price kept inching closer to his original quote. We were finally done. Now it was time to get a quick snack until we met up with Stacy. So we decided to walk over to CGD and get some cheese. On the way we picked up some bread and beignets.
At the supermarket they didn’t have the cheese we wanted earlier so I’m not sure what we thought we would get. We ended up getting parmesean; and it was good. We lolly-gagged about, ducking begging children and speeding motos, for about an hour. Then headed to the restaraunt d’Artisanant to meet Stacy. She got there a little late, but we didn’t mind to much.
I had pommes frittes and plantain frittes, Akilah and Stacy had pommes sauté and avocat de puree. Actually, Stacy ended up canceling her avocado dish because she was full. Other than the abundance of mosquitoes, the restaurant was a pretty nice place to eat. They even sell fresh juices (ginger, mango, guava and citron). From what we’ve found out, the water in the North province is chlorinated; so Akilah was more willing to try the drinks.
(SIDEBAR: it’s not a good idea to drink the water in Cameroon, as you’re subject to ingesting amoebas, since the filtration is not as westernized.)