Food, glorious food!

The richness and variety of fresh, seasonal produce here is a pleasure! Almost everyone here has a "farm" - more an allotment size in towns - where they grow food for their family at least. A local told me you can't live in Cameroon if you don't have a farm!

Food is much tastier than in the UK - very little distance travelled, very little input of artificial fertilisers, much more free range and organic, and much fresher. Yes, food does go off quickly, but you buy food easily more often. Market and roadside vendors may only sell one type of fruit or vegetable at a time, but overall you can get a good varied diet if you cook for yourself.

Hey, I'm living in a country where they grow pineapple and coconut! This is so good, the pineapple juice runs down your chin, and I poured 2 full glasses of coconut milk out of one coconut (500 francs). Up in Santa just now I bought ripe avocado pears for 100 francs ( about 14p), loads of these in this area at the moment. Mangoes and pawpaws are just coming ripe. I had 3 mangoes here last week for 200, then I got about 8 big pawpaws (papaya) a bit further south for 100 yesterday, brilliant with fresh lemon (3 for 100 francs).

The market traders have different kinds of groundnuts, in shells, shelled or even ground for you ready to cook. Yams and cassava are not in season here yet, but you can buy them from other regions. Mushrooms have been coming in, strange types I've never seen before; I took a photo of the ones I bought just in case a doctor needed to know what we'd eaten. Great fried in olive oil with onions and garlic, as the lady advised me.

What I'm not buying is meat. Can you guess why? (hint - look at the photo of a typical butcher's.) They seem to sell a lot of tripe, tongue and basically every part of every animal. Fancy some chicken breast fillets? Forget it! Chicken is sold live, so unless you want to kill and pluck it yourself, (which I've done in the distant past but have no wish to do here), you pay someone to prepare it for you. Incidentally, women are not supposed to eat chicken gizzards, for some power reason these are kept for men only. Let them have gizzard if they want!

Takeaway food is not exactly Big Mac. You can get lots of stuff on the street. Some mornings I like to pick up a little sort of breadcrumbed fishy pasty (25 francs each), or maybe a scotch egg which is dough rather than sausage meat. They serve that with a dab of hot pepper sauce for 100. Puffball doughnuts are fried in hot oil over wood stoves, mostly in the afternoon, then people bring the leftovers around in the mornings in big plastic containers.

Barbecues are everywhere in the afternoon, grills over big logs with fish, mainly mackerel, delicious sold with pepper sauce for 700 francs. There is also meat and some massive cooked eels - I haven't been able to face these to try them. There are grills for whole plantain (long green banana type fruit) and corn cobs. Fried plantain is a great alternative to fried potatoes, and plantain crisps are a good snack food to help work meetings along!

Summer holiday

Yes, we're going on a bus, to a beach, hopefully no cliff richard driving though!

this is just a quick note to say - bye for now.  Gweneira, Linda and I are settiing off at 6:30 tomorrow to brave the bus station, get our tickets and take ourselves across country south to Limbe.  We want to see Mount Cameroon, have hot showers in a hotel (hoping anyway!) and swim in a warm sea.

no doubt a lot more mosquitoes, 33 degrees hot, but we are leaving laptops behind and can relaaaax!

back on monday evening, inshallah!

Everybody's talking

Santa's full Council meeting doesn't look much like a Welsh one at first glance, but dig a little deeper and there are interesting similarities!

The meeting on 26 March was unusual because first there was the installation of the new Secretary General, a role that's a mix of Town Clerk and Chief Executive, the manager of the council staff. Lots of dignitaries, family and members of the public were there, plus a group of musicians and dancers.

The dignitary list was headed by the Senior Divisional Officer for Mezam, who is the President's representative, and he oversees the council meetings and business. The list also included the Divisional Officer for Santa (another government representative), Regional Chief of Local Councils, representatives of political parties, their Royal Highnesses the Fons and Ardos, Gendarmerie Brigade Commanders, Chief of Special Branch and heads of government services. Top table included the Mayor and 4 Deputy Mayors, then all the councillors at tables forming a large square, and the public ranged around the sides. An official cameraman filmed a lot of the proceedings, but I must admit the presence of so many police made me rather hesitant to take many photographs!

After the ceremony we all got a snack - a plastic bag containing buttered sliced bread, a mini pastie, piece of chicken and piece of fish - and a soft drink. Then outside for photos and more dancing from the music group, before the council meeting eventually got under way.

The Mayor gave a nice speech, updating the council on various projects. He welcomed Gweneira and me as new VSO short-term volunteers, so we stood up for everyone to see us. We were really glad we had our new Cameroon outfits; we got lots of compliments during the day as this was clearly appreciated. Hopefully my photos will show the range of clothing - from traditional embroidered North west regional costume to western-style suits and dresses.

(photo of the 5 VSO volunteers in Santa)

Full council meetings only happen 3 or 4 times a year, and they last one to two days. Most of the work is done by committees, especially the executive committee of Mayor and Deputies. The agenda for this meeting was mainly to adopt the accounts for 2009, and this was discussed for about 3 hours.

Some Councillors got quite heated at times, especially over their allowances! Other contentious issues included lack of progress on road improvements (badly needed everywhere in the region). The council had a big shortfall in revenue raised, so a lot of expenditure had been cut. The Sanitary Inspection tax, for instance, only raised a sixth of what was budgeted, as apparently some villages don't have latrines.

One tax was for firearms, and we were interested to learn that people set off guns at funerals (called "Cry Dies") and a woman was accidentally shot dead at a funeral recently. Much discussion about the failure to collect this tax - with laughter and applause from the public when one of the top table pointed out that all the councillors had guns and should set an example by paying up their tax here and now!

On expenditure, I was interested to see that a big amount for bank charges caused very little comment, compared to the discussion on councillor training expenses, for instance. The chair of finance was very firm, especially with those raising something irrelevant, saying "I withdraw the floor from you". Then to move business on, asking "Are we together?" When it came to a vote, the Mayor was asked to leave to allow a free vote. The representatives of political parties all stood up to see how councillors were voting, and the cameraman walked round the table to film everyone with hands up!

After the accounts were approved, the Senior Divisional Officer gave a little summary in which he pointed out the Agenda had not included minutes of the previous council meeting, nor reports from committees, and he instructed the Mayor to do this at the next one. A clear indication of how much central government control there still is here, compared to Wales - decentralisation is very much a work in progress.

The SDO and entourage of police left at this point; everyone had a breather and we took the chance to leave. It had been a long day, sitting quietly at the side of the hall, and we needed to get back to Bamenda before dark. Council goes on until it's over, with a meal later on, and if the agenda hasn't been completed they stay over till the next day. Very interesting, so glad we had this great opportunity to see how it's done, but thankful that our council meetings have time limits!

Handbags and gladrags

Shopping for clothes with a couple of girl friends - whoopee! The Bamenda main market can be a bit overwhelming at first, but on an early morning trip with our housekeeper Anne, Gwenno and I had an excellent guide.

What a great choice of colourful fabrics! We'd both decided to have clothes made in local style, and as Anne is a seamstress by trade, she offered to make dresses for us. Cotton cloth in a huge range of traditional and modern patterns is abundant, some made here in Cameroon and some from Nigeria.

You buy a fixed length of 6 metres, and that's enough for a blouse, long skirt and headscarf. Anne brought us a big magazine with Hello-style photos - including a "Big babes" section! We could design what style we wanted, and she measured us and made up our frocks in a day or so. We're looking forward to showing them off at the Santa council meeting on Friday - a surprise for our hosts!

As we'd expected, most people do dress formally for work. The professional women I've met usually wear traditional or modern dress and jacket outfits; men wear traditional or suits, or just smart shirt over trousers. Traditional men's wear is a long tunic/coat over matching trousers, and a hat - looks great, very colourful.

Flipflops and thong sandals are amazingly popular, considering the state of the roads we all have to walk along. Men's shoes are really pointy but their feet look quite wide to me, as people go barefoot so much. I wonder, do they get bunions?

Lots of people wear western-style clothes, some new but there's a massive market for second-hand clothes. I gather they come from those so-called "charity collections" bags that people are always leaving on my doorstep. Companies collect our free cast-offs, bale them up and ship them to Africa, where local entrepreneurs buy them and sell them in markets and roadside stalls. So you see people in Tshirts advertising Bradford and Bingley!

Lazy Sunday

Sunday in Bamenda means church for a lot of people. Cameroonians don't understand the concept of atheism - or the British tradition of Sunday trips to the shopping mall! In this north-west region, 80% are Christian, 20% Muslim, and an unknown percentage also carry out traditional African religious / spiritual rites according to custom and need.

Last Sunday our housekeeper took me to the local Redeemer Baptist church, where I received a grand welcome from the congregation of 400. I was impressed with the way they used Powerpoint to show the order of service and words of all the hymns and Bible texts! There was a band with drumkit, keyboards and guitars, a good group of girl singers, and an engaging sermon titled "Why worry?" Everyone wore Sunday best, mostly traditional clothes and one family were in gorgeous matching outfits, both parents and son in gold/green fabric. As a visitor I had to stand up and be introduced in front of everyone, then shake hands all round.

I talked to an American evangelist who makes wheelchairs for a local charity, and the man shown here, one of the congregation, was delighted to be photographed. There appears to be no state support for disabled people, so churches play a big role in providing support to individuals, as well as providing some of the general education and health services. In church, I was struck again by how well-behaved the children are. Even tiny ones sat through the first hour of the service before going down to Sunday school, with no crying, whining or even much fidgeting!

This week was more of a lazy Sunday. Cameroon is currently suffering the effects of the harmattan wind bringing awful dirty dust from the Sahara, making the sky overcast and the air choking. Plus we have major road works nearby, causing even more chaotic traffic than usual.

So this morning I went across town to the Ayaba hotel to swim in their outdoor pool. At 10:30 in the pool there was just me and a stunning girl in a tiny pink bikini, who told me she's training for a swimming competition next week. I stalked a red-headed agama lizard to get its photo before some children came to hunt geckos around an open-air stage. Some guys playing tennis, others watching the match, loud French pop music on the pool stereo, dragonflies darting a foot above my head - just like being on holiday!

A new luxury hotel has recently opened, the Azam, and we'd been told there's a French chef who makes beefburgers "to die for"! It turned out to be a long way out of town, but was well worth the trip. A very international style, but after 3 weeks here that was actually a nice change (definitely 5 star toilets!) We were the only guests for lunch, the food was brilliant, not expensive and I got my first cup of espresso since leaving the UK!

10 green bottles

Water water everywhere, and not a drop to drink!

Well that's a bit inaccurate really, as we can get plenty of bottled mineral water from our local store. We drink between 2 - 3 litres a day each, depending on the heat. And Gweneira lived on little else for 5 days while she was flushing out some kind of bug.

Flushing - that's a word that features larger in our volunteer vocabulary than it ever did in Wales! Getting and collecting enough water to do the necessary takes quite a bit of our time, and we've been lucky to have running water from the tap for part of most days so far. Up in Santa, my colleague Kareen had no water for 8 days, and was overjoyed when it flowed long enough to catch up on some washing. Stand pipes are in each area, and we see people crowding round them with large containers and wheeled trolleys.

There is such a serious water shortage here that each locality has some kind of rationing. One problem as an inhabitant is that there's no regular schedule, so it's unpredictable. When we have water, we rush to fill all our containers. This morning I counted 96 bottles full, plus all the large buckets and bowls we possess. We collected about 4 buckets full of rainwater the other evening, dirty stuff but OK for the loo.

For washing and cooking vegetables, making hot drinks and rinsing crockery we use water that we boil and then filter. It doesn't taste great, so neither of us enjoys drinking it cold, but it is clean. So when we have running water, we boil up a large saucepan of tap water so we can fill up the filter.

Washing ourselves usually means using a bowl, bucket and scoop. We do have a shower, but no water ever comes out of it - pressure much too low! Being a softie, I add some boiled water to my bowl when washing my hair. I've been thankful for a tip from a neighbour at home to bring dry shampoo - it's so useful here. But then washing my hair in a bowl just shows how dirty it is - brown water as if I was rinsing out hair dye!

Of course we all do our clothes washing in cold water. I have no idea how Cameroonian people manage to keep their clothes so clean. You see Omo-white shirts crisply ironed, on people living in far worse conditions than us. The laundries are too expensive for most people, and there's no such thing as a laundrette, though I have seen washing machines out for sale by the roadside.

Ironing is essential, for anything that's been dried outside. Have I mentioned the tumbu fly? It lays eggs in any clothing or sheets drying in fresh air, then when they hatch they burrow into your skin! To prevent that you have to use a hot iron on everything, especially the seams - even bras and knickers!

Why does Cameroon have all these water problems? Especially with the amount of rain we've had in the past week, it's hard to understand. Some villages have no steady water supply at all, even for health centres, and it's certainly a priority on most wish lists.

I've asked for reasons, of course. First, electricity is a problem - lots of power shortages and surges, which affects water pumps. Bad weather knocks our electricity off most evenings now. Then the pipes are inadequate - certainly domestic plumbing wouldn't win any prizes, so I guess the same applies to the main systems. Infrastructure issues loom large here, and it's beyond me, but it certainly makes me appreciate what we have in Wales. I won't waste a drop in future!

Day tripper

A day out in Cameroon is not exactly like a Women's Institute day trip in Wales. There are no organised trips from Bamenda, and it involves a lot of co-ordination. Heather, one of the long-term volunteers, had been planning a trip to Bambalang Lake for a while, and our arrival meant enough numbers to make it worth while.

Why Bambalang? Hippos! Who could resist? So, meet at 7 on Saturday and load up 2 minibuses, hired by Heather's friendly moto driver Nelson. Then set off north for an hour's drive on tarmac road, with great views of rugged hills. Rather Scottish, in the misty light. Delayed a bit by a runaway cow in the outskirts, we got to Ndop by 9ish, to pick up more volunteers and stock up with bread and cake.

Then off the road, bumping along very rough dirt roads for another hour or two, dust blowing in the open windows, snapping photos of farming villages as we hurtled past. We had to stop at the Fon's palace, and troop inside to sign a register and pay a fee for permission to visit the lake. Crowds of people were there, come to hear the Fon make an announcement. This was not for us to witness, and as we drove out, some caught a glimpse of the juju dancers coming out of the palace.

Relieved to get down when we reached the lake, wide and peaceful in full sunlight, we packed ourselves into an open boat and pulled out. Don't bother asking about lifebelts, overcrowding, leaks, engine, comfort, shelter - OK? You can guess the answers if you've read my blog so far. Boatman, 2 minibus drivers, 2 guides, 13 volunteers. No, there wasn't a chilly bin full of cold drinks either. And I can guess my insurance didn't cover this trip!

So, a beautiful wide lake, seeing the occasional fisherman in a flat boat, lots of large birds of prey, herons, egrets. We skirted the edge of the lake at the far side, looking for upright bamboo stalks moving in the water, with no wind - a sign of a hippopotamus swimming underneath. No joy. Not a glimmer of a sight.

Signs of a gathering storm drove us across to land on an island, where a group of villagers go to catch and smoke fish. They build simple shelters but I noticed the TV aerial! First chance of a toilet stop (free range), stretch our cramped legs and admire babies, relax while our guides discussed hippos and weather with the locals.

Yes, hippos are over there, they said, and we set off again, right into the storm, till common sense prevailed and we turned round to head for safety. The rain poured down, drops like pebbles, soaking us to the skin. Heather thought I had fake tan, as the red dust streamed down my face into my white blouse!




Reaching muddy land at last, we piled into the buses and set off back along the track - ruts and potholes now full of water, bus skidding, leaning over dangerously - another Alton Towers experience! The drivers were in a hurry because there are sometimes armed robbers on the Ndop road - you can see the bends where they ambush passing vehicles at dusk, and of course a group of white people would be a prime target.

But here I am, all safe and sound, just a white blouse now tan and it serves me right for wearing one. We live and learn!