Greetings all!
Well, life has certainly been fun over the last few weeks, so this may be a bit long – just a warning. I suppose I could keep some of it for another time, but anyway!
In my last instalment, I mentioned that a general strike had started. As it turned out, it lasted for most of a week. As mentioned, in Douala, the economic centre of the country, about 250 km away, things got a bit rough, with a fair amount of vandalism and looting. This spread to other towns and cities in the country, with the result that a number of public buildings were burned, as well as a number of shops – and many shops that didn’t get burned got thoroughly looted. A number of people died also, 16 is the official number, and over a hundred according to the Cameroon Human Rights Watch organization. The police and other security forces were out in full strength, with a special battalion called in as well – unsmiling young men that you don’t want to mess with. Here in Yaoundé, things were calm, in the sense that there was very little looting, although there was a fair amount of marching, and the taxis stayed off the road, as did most other transport. The president finally spoke to the nation on the Thursday evening, basically saying calm down or else… and that all legal means would be taken to quell the uprising. He didn’t sound very friendly, to put it mildly. So, on the Friday, Yaoundé was back to vaguely normal, and an unsettled calm reigned everywhere. There were round-ups of hooligans (and anyone else caught in the net) and summary justice has been carried out all week – prison terms being handed out left, right and centre, and hundreds of people being processed per day, with no chance of raising a defence. Some of them are innocent, we are told, but too bad for them! According to the local radio, over 1600 people have been arrested across the country, most of them youths.
The president stated that the transporters’ strike was legal, and that hadn’t been the problem. The problem was unscrupulous opposition parties (any excuse for a thrust at them) who wanted to exploit the situation and also vandals and hooligans who took advantage of the strike to loot. Of course, the opposition parties have denied this, claiming that the government is using any excuse to blacken their reputations. Nothing was said in the president’s speech about the main underlying cause, the rise in the cost of living which is making it hard for all Cameroonian households to make ends meet. The price of basic necessities has risen astronomically, as had the price of gasoline. The president did grant a decrease in the price of gasoline by lowering it by 2.5 cents a litre (after having raised it to by 12.5 cent a litre!) and that was it. Some foodstuffs have increased by 140% over the last year, and in one instance by 400%, and, of course, salaries haven’t kept pace.
The following week was a bit tense – people aren’t sure what may happen once the president submits his proposal for a Constitutional amendment, allowing him to run for as many seven-year terms as he wishes (at the moment, the limit is two terms, and Paul Biya is nearing the end of his mandate, which runs out in 2011). Of course, the man was also president before the last Constitutional amendment, back in 1993; Biya first took over in a peaceful coup in 1982, after having served the previous and first president as prime minister since 1962. Only two presidents since independence… Mr. Biya, who is 75 this year, like many other presidents around the world (at least in many countries) would like to carry on until he’s in his grave – after all, who else could possibly do the job?
On Friday of last week (March 7), the president announced a couple of measures designed to make Cameroonians happier (and to ensure that his amendment goes through). First, he raised public servants’ salaries by 15%, as well as the military’s and then announced a series of reductions in excise taxes on various foods, to take effect on April 1 (April Fool’s?). Those who are not public servants or soldiers, of course, don’t get a salary raise, and are wondering why there’s enough money now to do all this… So we’ll see…
In my area of town, things are always calm, as we are way out in the suburbs, so nothing much happens. One just stays put… and stocks up on food and other essentials in case things go awry again.
The fun bit about the whole week (well, sort of!) was that a Canadian colleague of mine was here for meetings. She managed to make it from the hotel to the Centre on the first day of the strike, using a hotel taxi (they use unmarked cars, so were thought to be private vehicles). The next day, I went to fetch her at the hotel, with my taxi man Njikam, because taxis ran from 7 a.m. until 10 a.m. At noon, she went back to the hotel with the Centre’s driver. On the Wednesday, she took the hotel taxi again, and then, in the evening, I accompanied her back in the taxi, posing as her husband, and the taximan as our driver, in case we were stopped. On the Thursday, Liane stayed at the hotel but managed to get out again on the Friday, since taxis were back on the road. All fun!
The strike and its consequences added quite a bit of spice to life, since I had, a few days before, found a house that I decided to rent. A very nice villa, with three bedrooms, a huge sitting room, a dining room and a totally paved courtyard (to lessen the impact of the dust)! Very nicely finished, and not far away at all, just what I was looking for (a bit bigger than I need, actually, but as I have LOTS of furniture, I need a big place, if only for storage purposes!). Actually, I found it about two weeks before the strike, but it took a while to get things sorted out. There was a lease to be negotiated (I consulted a lawyer, at my employers’ suggestion, which was a good idea) and papers to be signed etc. etc. There were still a few things to be done to the house, nothing major, and I was assured that it would all be taken care of within a few days. Since I wasn’t and am not in a hurry to move (I can’t break the 6-month lease on the apartment; I did try…), I was quite agreeable to this scenario. In addition, there are a some things that I want to have done to the house before I move in, such as having mosquito netting installed at all the windows and doors, a hot water heater put in (alas, they don’t come automatically with houses) and an outside toilet for the sentinels. Here, at the apartment, they have access to a field next door which serves well, although Aurel, the night sentinel, tends to want to use the facilities indoors. This, I think, is because he is immensely curious and wonders what on earth I could be doing instead of talking to him!
Anyway, it took a few days to negotiate the lease to everyone’s satisfaction, but finally the papers were signed. The agent, Mr. Olli, had agreed that an outside toilet was a fine idea, and I told him that I would look after this, since it was my wish to have it. I also told him that I didn’t have the money to start the work right away, and that I’d have to get at least three quotes before I could start doing anything. This didn’t cause any problems with him (obviously), and, after walking around the outside of the house, we agreed on the spot where the said toilet would be placed. The strike intervened, so of course nothing could get done, but last week, I went around to the house to measure a few things and met Mr. Olli who was there. He asked if it would be ok to build a little room at the back of the yard, as the landlady thought that this would be a good idea for the future – a sort of shed, if you like, where sentinels could keep their stuff (and sleep, no doubt!). I said I had no trouble with the idea at all, providing, of course, that this was at the owner’s expense, since I didn’t need nor want a shed. No problem…
So, a couple of days later, I went around to the house again, and lo and behold, the shed was almost done. What was most surprising, though, was that the wall of the toilet was half-finished! I called Mr. Olli, who said that there had been some cement blocks left over (there were still some) and he thought he’d be helpful. I said that it was very kind of him to offer me the blocks, since I couldn’t pay for them. There was silence at the other end of the phone line. I reminded him that I’d told him that I had to get three quotes and that I couldn’t pay for anything anyway as I didn’t have the money. There was a bit of bluster at the other end – and I also reminded him that the toilet was my responsibility and that he really shouldn’t be doing anything about it.
In the meantime, the house had been unguarded. Mr. Olli had assured me that he had a guard in place, and one evening, I thought I’d stroll over to the house to meet the man, since I was going to be paying him for a few weeks. No one there… I went back the next evening, at a different time, still no one there. I tried in the middle of the day – no one there; I sent Mustafa, one of my sentinels, two evenings in a row, at about 9 and 10 o’clock, still no one there. Mustafa reported that a neighbour had said that there was no one around… So, the next day, I wrote to Mr. Olli (he reads his e-mail, fortunately) saying that I was a bit concerned and that I would hire a guard forthwith. I called Roger, the friend who works at the Centre and who has been very helpful, and, a couple of days later, he came up with a young man from a village somewhere, André, a brawny young man, whom I hired as a temporary guard.. So, we strolled over to the house and what did we find there… another sentinel!!!!
Together with the toilet episode, the finding of the sentinel sent vibes through the brain. The latter still functions every so often… It was very clear that I was going to end up paying for the shed! So, I asked Roger to deal with Mr. Olli, because I was starting to think that the man didn’t understand me (or didn’t want to, as the case may be). Not only was it surprising to suddenly find this second guard there, what was unsettling was that the guard had all the keys to the house, inside and out. I had understood that I had all the sets of keys, except for the one to the front gate, so that Mr. Olli could let the workers in. Of course, having hired André, I had to let the unknown sentinel go…
Anyway, to cut a long story short, we have had a few tiffs with Mr. Olli – the toilet wall has been built up to height, in spite of Mr. Olli being told to cease and desist, and the plumbing has also been put in. Roger is insistent that I don’t pay a cent for this work, because it shouldn’t have been done, so it’s quite nice to have a toilet built for nothing. Not sure how Olli is going to take it! However, he has been warned! Now, I just have to change all the locks to the outside doors… something that I was hoping to avoid!
There is still electricity to be set up – there is some at the moment, but I’ll need to have the contract changed over to my name, so that will no doubt be fodder for another blog! The various quotes for mosquito netting are in the works; these things take time, as one can’t have the various carpenters around at the same time, so it’s one per day… that should take up most of this week, then the decision as to who gets the work, and then we’ll see how long it takes to get it done – then the move!
On that note, I’ll leave you for now. In case you’re wondering, I still manage to get my work done around all this! It certainly makes life full!
Cheers!
David
Friday, March 14, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Yaoundé, February 26, 2008
Greetings!
Life continues to be good here in Cameroon, in spite of a few upheavals in the last few days – getting all the news about the weather in Canada continues to make me feel very smug, to be honest.
You may have heard about the recent troubles here in Cameroon, over the last weekend, and here’s a brief summary. There are two strands, one economic and one political, which seem to have joined forces.
In Yaoundé, the taxi drivers decided to join all the taxi drivers in the country for a day-long strike to take place on Monday, February 25. Basically, the reason is that the price of gasoline has climbed quite high (it’s now 600 FCFA a litre, about $1.50), and of course, the price of a taxi drive is set by the government and it hasn’t risen for quite a while. In addition to these costs is the fact that the price of basic necessities has increased, since transportation costs have increased for everything. Even the moto-taxis were off the road, and the ones who tried to cash in on the day were stopped. As hundreds of thousands of people depend on this form of public transport, the strike meant that most people were reduced to walking to work or school, and most of them supported the strike, in spite of the inconvenience they suffered. There was not much rampaging, if any.
The story in Douala is very different, although the radio has just announced that calm has returned to the economic capital. I’m not too sure of the details, but a political demonstration had been planned for late Saturday afternoon, to protest against a move to change the Constitution (specifically, the article that limits presidential terms). It seems that the demonstration was banned at the last minute, and although the demonstrators started leaving quietly, the police charged anyway (of course, the official story is the reverse, and who knows which is the correct version?). As often happens, I guess, bands of “wild youths” went on the rampage, and two young bystanders were killed, setting off more riots! Sunday, it seems, was fairly calm, but the rampage started again today, with “wild youths” taking advantage of the lack of taxis to attack a lot of places. It seems that there is a lot of damage to a number of state buildings, as well as a lot of breaking into stores and making off with useful items. We are now waiting for a pronouncement from four government ministers about solutions being offered (you’d think they’d have thought of this before raising the price of gasoline!).
At the time of writing, things seem to have calmed down everywhere, and life is due to go back to normal today.
In the last installment, you’ll remember, I was full of woe with respect to my toe-nails, and I’m sure that you’re all very concerned about them. You’ll be glad to know that less than an hour after I had posted the blog, my brother Neil, who lives in Ghana (practically next door, a mere 2000 km and four countries away) and suffers from the same problem, gave me the solution to my problem: using wire cutters! So life is good and I’m sure that you will all be delighted to know that the separation of over-long toe-nails from top of toes has been successfully accomplished.
Speaking of separations, after much thinking, many ruminations, cogitations, reflections, consultations and exchanges of e-mails, Marion and I have reached a decision that may surprise some of you. Hé, hé, don’t worry – I just couldn’t resist writing that! As you know, Marion had planned to join me here in Yaoundé, but it has turned out that her employers were not willing to give her a leave-of-absence for such a long period – they might have accepted one year, but certainly not two or three. As a consequence, and Marion being much more sensible than I am, we have decided that Marion should keep her job, and we will yo-yo between the two continents for the next little while. This is a sort of insurance – should I not have a job immediately after this one ends, then we can survive and should something happen to me (like being run over by an elephant) while I’m here, Marion won’t end up being husbandless and jobless (I didn’t dare ask her which would be worse!). The added advantages are that we keep the house in Fredericton, and I manage to avoid Canadian winters! We’ll see how this works out and then, perhaps, revisit the decision at a later date. At the moment, it looks like Marion will be able to come out to Yaoundé once a year, and I will be able to get to Canada once a year as well. Who knows, we may manage more than that!
There hasn’t been much of note happening lately. I mean, the sun rises and sets at almost exactly the same time each day, and the weather has been quite steady – warm and dry, although, by Cameroonian standards, the last few mornings have been quite chilly, with a heavy mist, sometimes lasting until early afternoon.
I had to give a sermon to the sentinels the other day, as a certain laxity had set in. People arriving late for work, leaving early, and, quite often, leaving in the middle of the day for quite a long time. So, I called an early morning meeting of the troops and instructed them in my expectations: arrive on time, leave on time, and no leaving without permission during the day. And no drinking alcohol during working hours, which was still happening. As I pointed out (in private, not during the sermon) to the one sentinel who really loves his little bags of Scotch, once he’s had his little nip, he falls asleep, in such a deep sleep that he doesn’t hear people knocking at the gate (ie me). In fact, it was this behaviour that got me riled up enough to set up the sermon meeting. One Sunday morning, I left the apartment to go and buy a loaf of bread at the bakery up the road. The sentinel was sleeping very heavily (and it wasn’t 6 a.m. and they’re not supposed to sleep on the job) that he didn’t hear me come down, unlock the gate and pull the bar open – all very noisy operations! I don’t think he realized that I’d gone, because when I came back, he’d woken up and gone to the snack bar next door to buy his little bag of Scotch. He didn’t see me coming back, so he was caught in the act, so to speak. Anyway, I’m hoping that the little sermon will do some good, very naïve of me, no doubt!. I did tell them that if I caught any of them in flagrante delicto that they would lose their job immediately. And yes, I had a witness for all this. Fortunately, as the apartment is next door to the Centre, I am able taken to coming home at odd hours to see what’s happening!
You’ll no doubt remember the fun I had with opening my bank account back in December? Well, I’ve been having fun with the bank ever since. I’m not sure that they’re having fun with me, however!
The bank that I’m with is known for being very careful in its financial transactions, which is a very good thing, but it does occasionally slow things down a bit. I think I told you that one of my duties is to administer some of the project funds, in particular funds needed to reimburse the Centre where I work for certain expenses. Once I’d opened my bank account, and some funds had been transferred from Canada, I’d paid a few bills. One day, I got a call from the bank asking me to come in and see the Head of Client Services. A bit bemused, I did so. Of course, you have to understand that going to the bank takes a while – first, call the taxi; second, wait for the taxi; third, go through incredible traffic (see blog on driving!) before arriving at the bank; fourth, wait at the bank until the person who called is free. Anyway, I duly showed up, did my mandatory waiting, and was finally invited into the office of the Head of Client Services. He looked at me very seriously, pulled a sheet of paper out from a folder and handed it to me. I was starting to think that I’d inadvertently done something wrong! The sheet of paper had a photocopy of a cheque that I’d made out about ten days earlier. “Did you write that cheque?” I was asked. “Yes,” I confessed. “Why?” “You’re sure that it’s your cheque?” “Absolutely sure. In fact, let me show you the cheque book stub.” Finally, satisfied that I was telling the truth, Mr. Moukoury explained that the reason they were double-checking (pardon the pun) was that the bank in which the cheque had been deposited had a history of doubtful dealings, and my bank wanted to make sure that it was ok to pay out the money. I expressed gratitude at such careful work and went back to the office. It was a surprising sort of visit, but I must admit that it certainly increased my respect for the bank’s administration (even if one is sometimes frustrated by the length of time it takes to get things done!).
This is a good time to take a break, my friends, as the banking story continues…
You have to understand that the local currency is expressed in francs, whose value is very small. For example, one thousand francs is equivalent to about $2.25, so purchases are often in the tens of thousands of francs (and many items are quite expensive). Those of you who have had the misfortune to try to decipher my handwriting also know that it is illegible at best. So, I try very hard to make the cheques that I write out very legible, which entails a lot of time practising on a piece of paper, since the sums have to be written out in full in a fairly constricted space. When one writes a cheque for three million, nine hundred thousand and four hundred and thirty francs, it has to fit in the space provided and not go over the edge. So, having practised, I then write out the amount, put in the amount in figures, identify to whom the cheque is made out and then sign and date it. None of this is very surprising, of course!
A few weeks ago (I have to tell you that I keep my stories for a while before sharing them, otherwise the blogs would be even longer than they are now!), I wrote a cheque out for the Centre. We’ll assume that it was for the sum I mentioned above, three million, nine hundred thousand and four hundred and thirty franc. This was the first cheque I’d written out for the Centre, so I felt very noble and proud at finally being able to embark upon one of my responsibilities. I duly gave the cheque to Laurentine, the secretary-bookkeeper, who verified that the information was correct, and off she went, at some point, to deposit the cheque (the Centre uses the same bank as I do). You need to know that it takes at least two days for a cheque to be processed (even within the same bank) and sometimes three days. So, it was a slightly agitated Laurentine who came to see me in my office a few days later, to say that the cheque had been bounced, with no reason given, and would I go and see what it was all about. To say that I was flabbergasted would be putting it mildly. Not to say embarrassed! Off I went to the bank (same steps as before!), and waited until the clerk who looks after bounced cheques was a) at her desk and b) ready to receive clients. I courteously explained who I was, and expressed surprise at the fact that the cheque had not been accepted. The clerk took the cheque out, looked at it, looked at me, looked at the cheque, and said, very gravely,: “There’s a mistake on the cheque.” I looked at the cheque and didn’t see it right away - and I, a French teacher and proof-reader! Yes, my friends, I’d forgotten the “s” at the end of the word “franc” (so it wasn’t a typo up above, héhé), and for that reason, the cheque bounced. Lordy…
Back I went to the office, made out another cheque, making sure that the “s” was visible and legible (lots of practice!), and gave the cheque to Laurentine, who verified it (she was highly amused at the reason for the bounce), and off she went to deposit the cheque. A few days later, she was back in the office, much more agitated, wig a bit askew (a lot of ladies wear wigs, some of them architectural wonders), to say that the new cheque had been bounced, and would I please go and see what had happened now? The first time, it had been funny, this time it was a bit more serious, especially as the Centre needed the money that kept on being bounced. So, this time, I went with Laurentine to the bank. Same story, in the sense of waiting times, but this time the reason for the bounce was the signature. “Your signature seems to have evolved” said the clerk, with nary a smile, “and it doesn’t look like the signature that we have on file” (scanned). I looked at the signature and said that yes, it was mine, and yes, it was probably slightly different from the one on file. I also pointed out that I had warned the bank that my signature varied (unheard of, I guess), depending on the pen I was using, the position I was in when writing the cheque and perhaps my mood. However, the clerk was not going to be amused, as this was serious business! Slightly impatient, I wrote out a third cheque, there and then, with the clerk as a witness, and gave it to Laurentine, who was standing next to me. The clerk looked at the cheque carefully, looked at me sorrowfully (at last, an expression on her face), shook her head slowly and said that the signature wasn’t quite right (one line extra, difficult to explain the difference).
Well, what to do? I thought, well, this can’t go on, so I suggested to Laurentine that I take out the money in cash, and then she could deposit it right away. This seemed to be a sensible solution to the predicament, although probably not to the liking of accountants the world over. Ah well… so I wrote a cheque out to myself (there are no withdrawal slips here, one has to use cheques), in front of the same clerk, who again refused the cheque, because the signature was different again. This was getting serious, to put it mildly! So, I went to see the Head of Client Services, Mr. Moukoury, and explained what was happening. Much cogitation and consultations with various bodies, shaking of heads, rolling of eyes and other dramatic elements. Finally, it was decided that I should fill out new signature forms. I pointed out that this did not guarantee that my signature would remain stable. I also pointed out that this was the first time I’d had this trouble in any country that I’d been in. Anyway, a final solution was found. First, I sign the cheque, then, under my signature, I write my name. I pointed out that my writing varied a lot also, but that I always made my “f” the same way. So, on the card, it is noted that the “f” is the only stable element of my signature, that if there are any questions, to refer them to Mr. Moukoury or to phone me. Once all this was done, I wrote out another cheque, which was then initialed by at least three people, so that I could withdraw the money owed to the Centre, so that I could give it to Laurentine.
The largest bill is the ten-thousand franc note, so after a few minutes (cheque having magically been accepted by the unsmiling clerk), I was handed a huge pile of bills, a large number of ten thousand franc notes, a large number of five-thousand franc notes, and some two-thousand franc notes. Actually getting the money also took time, since the clerk had to count it all, and then I had to count it all. Then I staggered over to Laurentine with this huge whack of notes, and gave them to her. She then filled out her deposit slip, counted the notes, and went to the teller, who had just given me the notes, who then proceeded to count them all again and deposit the money in the Centre’s account.
The whole operation, from beginning to end, took five hours!
You may be sure that I’m very careful about how I fill out the cheques now, and, fortunately, there have been no more bounced cheques! I must say, though, that it was quite pleasant going around with more than three million in one’s hands!
On that note (groan!), I shall leave you for now! Hope all is going well for you all!
Cheers!
David
Life continues to be good here in Cameroon, in spite of a few upheavals in the last few days – getting all the news about the weather in Canada continues to make me feel very smug, to be honest.
You may have heard about the recent troubles here in Cameroon, over the last weekend, and here’s a brief summary. There are two strands, one economic and one political, which seem to have joined forces.
In Yaoundé, the taxi drivers decided to join all the taxi drivers in the country for a day-long strike to take place on Monday, February 25. Basically, the reason is that the price of gasoline has climbed quite high (it’s now 600 FCFA a litre, about $1.50), and of course, the price of a taxi drive is set by the government and it hasn’t risen for quite a while. In addition to these costs is the fact that the price of basic necessities has increased, since transportation costs have increased for everything. Even the moto-taxis were off the road, and the ones who tried to cash in on the day were stopped. As hundreds of thousands of people depend on this form of public transport, the strike meant that most people were reduced to walking to work or school, and most of them supported the strike, in spite of the inconvenience they suffered. There was not much rampaging, if any.
The story in Douala is very different, although the radio has just announced that calm has returned to the economic capital. I’m not too sure of the details, but a political demonstration had been planned for late Saturday afternoon, to protest against a move to change the Constitution (specifically, the article that limits presidential terms). It seems that the demonstration was banned at the last minute, and although the demonstrators started leaving quietly, the police charged anyway (of course, the official story is the reverse, and who knows which is the correct version?). As often happens, I guess, bands of “wild youths” went on the rampage, and two young bystanders were killed, setting off more riots! Sunday, it seems, was fairly calm, but the rampage started again today, with “wild youths” taking advantage of the lack of taxis to attack a lot of places. It seems that there is a lot of damage to a number of state buildings, as well as a lot of breaking into stores and making off with useful items. We are now waiting for a pronouncement from four government ministers about solutions being offered (you’d think they’d have thought of this before raising the price of gasoline!).
At the time of writing, things seem to have calmed down everywhere, and life is due to go back to normal today.
In the last installment, you’ll remember, I was full of woe with respect to my toe-nails, and I’m sure that you’re all very concerned about them. You’ll be glad to know that less than an hour after I had posted the blog, my brother Neil, who lives in Ghana (practically next door, a mere 2000 km and four countries away) and suffers from the same problem, gave me the solution to my problem: using wire cutters! So life is good and I’m sure that you will all be delighted to know that the separation of over-long toe-nails from top of toes has been successfully accomplished.
Speaking of separations, after much thinking, many ruminations, cogitations, reflections, consultations and exchanges of e-mails, Marion and I have reached a decision that may surprise some of you. Hé, hé, don’t worry – I just couldn’t resist writing that! As you know, Marion had planned to join me here in Yaoundé, but it has turned out that her employers were not willing to give her a leave-of-absence for such a long period – they might have accepted one year, but certainly not two or three. As a consequence, and Marion being much more sensible than I am, we have decided that Marion should keep her job, and we will yo-yo between the two continents for the next little while. This is a sort of insurance – should I not have a job immediately after this one ends, then we can survive and should something happen to me (like being run over by an elephant) while I’m here, Marion won’t end up being husbandless and jobless (I didn’t dare ask her which would be worse!). The added advantages are that we keep the house in Fredericton, and I manage to avoid Canadian winters! We’ll see how this works out and then, perhaps, revisit the decision at a later date. At the moment, it looks like Marion will be able to come out to Yaoundé once a year, and I will be able to get to Canada once a year as well. Who knows, we may manage more than that!
There hasn’t been much of note happening lately. I mean, the sun rises and sets at almost exactly the same time each day, and the weather has been quite steady – warm and dry, although, by Cameroonian standards, the last few mornings have been quite chilly, with a heavy mist, sometimes lasting until early afternoon.
I had to give a sermon to the sentinels the other day, as a certain laxity had set in. People arriving late for work, leaving early, and, quite often, leaving in the middle of the day for quite a long time. So, I called an early morning meeting of the troops and instructed them in my expectations: arrive on time, leave on time, and no leaving without permission during the day. And no drinking alcohol during working hours, which was still happening. As I pointed out (in private, not during the sermon) to the one sentinel who really loves his little bags of Scotch, once he’s had his little nip, he falls asleep, in such a deep sleep that he doesn’t hear people knocking at the gate (ie me). In fact, it was this behaviour that got me riled up enough to set up the sermon meeting. One Sunday morning, I left the apartment to go and buy a loaf of bread at the bakery up the road. The sentinel was sleeping very heavily (and it wasn’t 6 a.m. and they’re not supposed to sleep on the job) that he didn’t hear me come down, unlock the gate and pull the bar open – all very noisy operations! I don’t think he realized that I’d gone, because when I came back, he’d woken up and gone to the snack bar next door to buy his little bag of Scotch. He didn’t see me coming back, so he was caught in the act, so to speak. Anyway, I’m hoping that the little sermon will do some good, very naïve of me, no doubt!. I did tell them that if I caught any of them in flagrante delicto that they would lose their job immediately. And yes, I had a witness for all this. Fortunately, as the apartment is next door to the Centre, I am able taken to coming home at odd hours to see what’s happening!
You’ll no doubt remember the fun I had with opening my bank account back in December? Well, I’ve been having fun with the bank ever since. I’m not sure that they’re having fun with me, however!
The bank that I’m with is known for being very careful in its financial transactions, which is a very good thing, but it does occasionally slow things down a bit. I think I told you that one of my duties is to administer some of the project funds, in particular funds needed to reimburse the Centre where I work for certain expenses. Once I’d opened my bank account, and some funds had been transferred from Canada, I’d paid a few bills. One day, I got a call from the bank asking me to come in and see the Head of Client Services. A bit bemused, I did so. Of course, you have to understand that going to the bank takes a while – first, call the taxi; second, wait for the taxi; third, go through incredible traffic (see blog on driving!) before arriving at the bank; fourth, wait at the bank until the person who called is free. Anyway, I duly showed up, did my mandatory waiting, and was finally invited into the office of the Head of Client Services. He looked at me very seriously, pulled a sheet of paper out from a folder and handed it to me. I was starting to think that I’d inadvertently done something wrong! The sheet of paper had a photocopy of a cheque that I’d made out about ten days earlier. “Did you write that cheque?” I was asked. “Yes,” I confessed. “Why?” “You’re sure that it’s your cheque?” “Absolutely sure. In fact, let me show you the cheque book stub.” Finally, satisfied that I was telling the truth, Mr. Moukoury explained that the reason they were double-checking (pardon the pun) was that the bank in which the cheque had been deposited had a history of doubtful dealings, and my bank wanted to make sure that it was ok to pay out the money. I expressed gratitude at such careful work and went back to the office. It was a surprising sort of visit, but I must admit that it certainly increased my respect for the bank’s administration (even if one is sometimes frustrated by the length of time it takes to get things done!).
This is a good time to take a break, my friends, as the banking story continues…
You have to understand that the local currency is expressed in francs, whose value is very small. For example, one thousand francs is equivalent to about $2.25, so purchases are often in the tens of thousands of francs (and many items are quite expensive). Those of you who have had the misfortune to try to decipher my handwriting also know that it is illegible at best. So, I try very hard to make the cheques that I write out very legible, which entails a lot of time practising on a piece of paper, since the sums have to be written out in full in a fairly constricted space. When one writes a cheque for three million, nine hundred thousand and four hundred and thirty francs, it has to fit in the space provided and not go over the edge. So, having practised, I then write out the amount, put in the amount in figures, identify to whom the cheque is made out and then sign and date it. None of this is very surprising, of course!
A few weeks ago (I have to tell you that I keep my stories for a while before sharing them, otherwise the blogs would be even longer than they are now!), I wrote a cheque out for the Centre. We’ll assume that it was for the sum I mentioned above, three million, nine hundred thousand and four hundred and thirty franc. This was the first cheque I’d written out for the Centre, so I felt very noble and proud at finally being able to embark upon one of my responsibilities. I duly gave the cheque to Laurentine, the secretary-bookkeeper, who verified that the information was correct, and off she went, at some point, to deposit the cheque (the Centre uses the same bank as I do). You need to know that it takes at least two days for a cheque to be processed (even within the same bank) and sometimes three days. So, it was a slightly agitated Laurentine who came to see me in my office a few days later, to say that the cheque had been bounced, with no reason given, and would I go and see what it was all about. To say that I was flabbergasted would be putting it mildly. Not to say embarrassed! Off I went to the bank (same steps as before!), and waited until the clerk who looks after bounced cheques was a) at her desk and b) ready to receive clients. I courteously explained who I was, and expressed surprise at the fact that the cheque had not been accepted. The clerk took the cheque out, looked at it, looked at me, looked at the cheque, and said, very gravely,: “There’s a mistake on the cheque.” I looked at the cheque and didn’t see it right away - and I, a French teacher and proof-reader! Yes, my friends, I’d forgotten the “s” at the end of the word “franc” (so it wasn’t a typo up above, héhé), and for that reason, the cheque bounced. Lordy…
Back I went to the office, made out another cheque, making sure that the “s” was visible and legible (lots of practice!), and gave the cheque to Laurentine, who verified it (she was highly amused at the reason for the bounce), and off she went to deposit the cheque. A few days later, she was back in the office, much more agitated, wig a bit askew (a lot of ladies wear wigs, some of them architectural wonders), to say that the new cheque had been bounced, and would I please go and see what had happened now? The first time, it had been funny, this time it was a bit more serious, especially as the Centre needed the money that kept on being bounced. So, this time, I went with Laurentine to the bank. Same story, in the sense of waiting times, but this time the reason for the bounce was the signature. “Your signature seems to have evolved” said the clerk, with nary a smile, “and it doesn’t look like the signature that we have on file” (scanned). I looked at the signature and said that yes, it was mine, and yes, it was probably slightly different from the one on file. I also pointed out that I had warned the bank that my signature varied (unheard of, I guess), depending on the pen I was using, the position I was in when writing the cheque and perhaps my mood. However, the clerk was not going to be amused, as this was serious business! Slightly impatient, I wrote out a third cheque, there and then, with the clerk as a witness, and gave it to Laurentine, who was standing next to me. The clerk looked at the cheque carefully, looked at me sorrowfully (at last, an expression on her face), shook her head slowly and said that the signature wasn’t quite right (one line extra, difficult to explain the difference).
Well, what to do? I thought, well, this can’t go on, so I suggested to Laurentine that I take out the money in cash, and then she could deposit it right away. This seemed to be a sensible solution to the predicament, although probably not to the liking of accountants the world over. Ah well… so I wrote a cheque out to myself (there are no withdrawal slips here, one has to use cheques), in front of the same clerk, who again refused the cheque, because the signature was different again. This was getting serious, to put it mildly! So, I went to see the Head of Client Services, Mr. Moukoury, and explained what was happening. Much cogitation and consultations with various bodies, shaking of heads, rolling of eyes and other dramatic elements. Finally, it was decided that I should fill out new signature forms. I pointed out that this did not guarantee that my signature would remain stable. I also pointed out that this was the first time I’d had this trouble in any country that I’d been in. Anyway, a final solution was found. First, I sign the cheque, then, under my signature, I write my name. I pointed out that my writing varied a lot also, but that I always made my “f” the same way. So, on the card, it is noted that the “f” is the only stable element of my signature, that if there are any questions, to refer them to Mr. Moukoury or to phone me. Once all this was done, I wrote out another cheque, which was then initialed by at least three people, so that I could withdraw the money owed to the Centre, so that I could give it to Laurentine.
The largest bill is the ten-thousand franc note, so after a few minutes (cheque having magically been accepted by the unsmiling clerk), I was handed a huge pile of bills, a large number of ten thousand franc notes, a large number of five-thousand franc notes, and some two-thousand franc notes. Actually getting the money also took time, since the clerk had to count it all, and then I had to count it all. Then I staggered over to Laurentine with this huge whack of notes, and gave them to her. She then filled out her deposit slip, counted the notes, and went to the teller, who had just given me the notes, who then proceeded to count them all again and deposit the money in the Centre’s account.
The whole operation, from beginning to end, took five hours!
You may be sure that I’m very careful about how I fill out the cheques now, and, fortunately, there have been no more bounced cheques! I must say, though, that it was quite pleasant going around with more than three million in one’s hands!
On that note (groan!), I shall leave you for now! Hope all is going well for you all!
Cheers!
David
Monday, February 4, 2008
Pictures
David, Laurence (our secretary) and her husband
Members of the executive, staff association - the two white guys are honorary advisors! The other white guy is Père Natalino, the director.
David dancing with Mme Calvin, wife of the do it all man.Greetings again!
I tried to incorporate these pictures in my text earlier, but I haven't got the hang of it... ah well!
Yaoundé, Sunday, February 3, 2008
Greetings all!
Well, I thought that it was probably time to add something to the blog, although I’m not sure that I have many exciting tales to relate – very sad, I’m sure!
First, let me gloat about the weather! It continues to be very pleasant, thank you very much, as the sun shines most days, and the temperature remains in the balmy twenties. The mornings are quite misty, to be expected, I suppose, since we are 700 metres above sea level, and the nights are cool. It is, after all, winter, and temperatures drop to about 19 or 20 at night. I’ve been told that they can drop to as low as 14, but that hasn’t happened yet. Anyway, the mist clears up by about 8 a.m., and then the sun comes out, unless there happens to be a dust cloud in the area. Still no very hot days yet – I can tell, because I haven’t felt the need to change shirts during the day.
Speaking of dust, it’s all over the place. The roads are dusty, and the cars of course raise great clouds of the stuff as they pass by, even on the major paved roads. One is constantly having to brush down one’s trousers so that one appears somewhat respectable. The travails, I tell you! So, just for your excitement, you need to know that I keep a little sponge at the office just for that purpose.
I think that in my last posting, I spoke of the little hitch that had thrown up its head (as it were) with respect to the development of a number of documents. As I write this, nothing has been resolved – of course there are two governments involved and, as I can well attest, things take time to go through government. And here, it’s slower than at home, so… No doubt everything will be resolved in due course.
The weekend of January 25th was a very sociable one. It started on the Thursday actually, when I invited one of my colleagues for supper – a young man of 30, Christian is one of the technicians who fixes things to do with computers, a very nice man and good at his job – he must be, because he explains things to me in a way that I can understand! Anyway, the reason for the invitation was that I had neglected to invite him to the housewarming party in December, and I felt a bit guilty about this, to put it mildly. I also invited his younger brother, Hermann, who is in the final stages of his training at the Centre. I hadn’t realized until early in the week that Christian and Hermann were brothers, and it would have been “off” to invite one but not the other. It was only over supper that I learned that Christian is also a trainee, and he is doing his work term at the Centre (where he also took his course). Most amusing, since there had actually been no reason for guilt! Still, it was a pleasant evening, as Christian has the gift of keeping a conversation going. I fed them a sort of tomato sauce with beef, served on rice, and they were most impressed at the fact that I could cook, and moreover, that it was edible (“Mmmm, just like African food!). I also met their mother (this gets complicated – only in Africa!), who was attending a wake at the chapel up the hill. The young men don’t live with their mother (too far away, I gather), but of course, since she was in the area, she wanted to see them. Christian wasn’t too sure what to do, so I told him to bring his mother along (she called while they were at the house), so that’s what he did. She didn’t stay long, just enough to glug down a bottle of Schweppes tonic, and then was off to visit a sister in hospital before returning to the wake. Very nice lady.
Anyway, there was food left over, and I couldn’t see myself eating the quantities that were left, so on the Friday, I invited the young men to come and finish up the meal at lunch. Christian couldn’t come, but Hermann did and nobly wolfed down half of the remains, saying he might come back in the evening to finish it off, if that was ok with me. Most amusing. He’s a nice young man (I can’t think of another adjective).
Friday being the last day of the month, I decided that the colleagues and I should repair to a bar for a round of drinks. I’ll probably do that every month (going out with the guys plus one lady), as it’s rather fun. My, but they drink! Still, all worth it in the long run. I just about manage to glug down one bottle (they’re big ones) while they down about three each. I think I come over as a very sober person, not sure if that’s a good thing. I just tell them that it’s not warm enough yet for me! Anyway, I’d brought a torch with me so that I could walk back home (we weren’t that far away), but it seems that there was no question that I should go unaccompanied, so Christian (who joins in these things, which is what made me think he was a member of the staff) was delegated to return me home, since it was on his way home also. So, of course, I invited him in and offered him the rest of the meal that his brother hadn’t finished (the latter having called to say that he couldn’t make it after all). By the time Christian left, it was 10 o’clock, and definitely time for the old man to go to bed, even on a Friday night! What one beer does to me…
Saturday morning was the usual round of shops, stocking up on quite a few things, with Njikam, who you remember is my favourite taximan, very apologetic for being 15 minutes late, having been held up by an accident – he wasn’t involved, just stuck in the traffic. Normally, he calls to say if he’s going to be late, but his phone wasn’t charged. Poor man! He takes pride in being right on time when coming to get me, as long as I’ve arrange a time with him. It’s quite delightful to see him pulling up at precisely the right minute, just like I do! Anyway, a pleasant time was had, as always, going round the various shops, and, as always, visiting different parts of town.
Then, on Saturday afternoon, I went off to see the tailor to whom I’d been introduced earlier in the week by one of my colleagues. You’ll be delighted to know that I’m losing weight – on purpose, may I add. As my trousers are just about falling off the hips (yay, the diet is working), I figured I needed new trousers, tighter, to encourage me to continue. I brought along one pair that I have with me as the model to follow, and made arrangements to have the two pairs made, as well as two pairs of shorts (I change into them on arrival at home, so that I can dust off the trousers!), and another dressing gown, with some nice material that I picked up a while back, a mere $12 for 6 yards. I do have a dressing gown with me, but it does need washing once in a while. Very complicated life I lead: first thing in the morning, out of night clothes, into dressing gown, and, while I have tea on the porch, the water heater does its thing; then it’s shower time and the ballet, then I get dressed. My, such a busy life! When I get back in the afternoon, and then, after my evening shower and ballet, back into the dressing gown. One has to fill one’s life with some activity!
On Saturday evening (we’re now on January 26th), the Centre was having its annual staff party, to which I’d been invited. I guess I should say that it’s the “Amicale de Don Bosco” that was holding the bash. This is sort of the staff association and I don’t think that all members of staff have to belong to it. However, once I discovered this, I asked if I couldn’t contribute, although I’m not officially a member of the Centre’s staff. It was quickly decided that I could become an honorary member and this was toasted all evening. Very nice, I must say. The invitation – an official one – had said that the bash was starting at precisely 6 p.m., so I duly showed up, along with about 4 others at the appointed time. I know better, but I was impressed by the “precisely at 6 p.m. on the invitation! A TV had been set up, since Cameroun was playing against Zambia (African Cup of Nations), and it was soon obvious that nothing was going to happen until this match was over. It was considered an important match, since in their first game, Cameroun had lost ignominiously to Egypt, 5 to 1. Most insulting for the Lions, known as one of the stronger teams on the continent. Anyway, fortunately, Cameroun won, 5 to 1 (yup!) against Zambia, to great cries of joy, honking of cars etc. Just to close off the football saga (soccer), Cameroon also won its next match and qualified for the quarter finals. The next two weeks are going to be crazy: if the Cameroonian team keeps on winning, the country will be partying non-stop, and if they lose somewhere along the line, mourning will be the order of the day. If I sound like I know what I’m talking about, it’s because it’s catching!
By the time the match was over on the Saturday evening, most people had arrived. There had been a trickle all the way through, but we were finally about 60 people, including the père Natalino, the director, with long beard suitably groomed. Speeches were made, new officers introduced, including yours truly, who, to his surprise, was nominated “special advisor”, along with the père. A picture was taken, to be found here, along with two others – one of me dancing with Mme Calvin, wife of the general maintenance man, and one kneeling next to Laurence (one of the Lauries!), our secretary and her husband. A good meal was provided, although I begged off the tapioca, and good chats all around. Then there was a round of present giving (not quite sure why, but anyway) and then the dancing started. All lots of fun, but I left early, at about midnight.
Such a wild life I lead! Sunday was more relaxing, although my two young men showed up unexpectedly (I’d told them that they would always be welcome, so…), at about 4:30. I took this to be a hint that they wouldn’t mind being fed again! They live with another brother, sharing an apartment (well, probably just a room, but I haven’t enquired!) and I imagine that funds can be tight. Anyway, it was quite fun to see them again, and they were quite happy reading old copies of Jeune Afrique and a couple of other magazines that I had around, while I got supper ready. I made a couscous, fortunately having bought some merguez (Algerian lamb sausage) the day before. This time, I sent them home with the left-overs, in a tub. The tub was duly returned a few days later, along with two pineapples – a thank you gift, I suppose. I must have told them that it was my favourite fruit, and it is in plentiful supply, as are oranges, grapefruit, mandarin oranges and various other fruit of tropical nature.
Well, all that excitement! It certainly made a change from the great issues of the day, one of which concerns toe-nails. I’m sure you’re really interested in this, and I’ll bore you anyway! You need to know (do you really?) that my toe-nails are very, very hard, and it is very difficult to trim them. Unfortunately, I do not have a strong pair of toe-nail scissors, nor clipper for that matter. I do have a clipper for my fingernails, you’ll be relieved to know, but they don’t work on my toe-nails, which need to be soaked for half an hour or more just to make them relatively hard, as opposed to granite-hard. And no, I can’t find toe-nail scissors in Yaoundé – I’ve looked and looked. There are nail scissors to be found, of course, but only little things and they usually come in a little kit, together with all sorts of manicuring implements, and cost the earth. I’m now waiting for scissors to arrive from Canada, sent by my loving wife (no doubt carefully wrapped), through the good offices of a colleague who is coming to do some consultancy work for the project. I can hardly wait…. Meanwhile, my toe-nails grow – fortunately, I wear sandals and it’s the dry season – I’m not sure that my feet will fit in my shoes at the moment. Not quite Guinness Book of Records, but getting there!
How’s that for an exciting life?
Cheers all!
David
Well, I thought that it was probably time to add something to the blog, although I’m not sure that I have many exciting tales to relate – very sad, I’m sure!
First, let me gloat about the weather! It continues to be very pleasant, thank you very much, as the sun shines most days, and the temperature remains in the balmy twenties. The mornings are quite misty, to be expected, I suppose, since we are 700 metres above sea level, and the nights are cool. It is, after all, winter, and temperatures drop to about 19 or 20 at night. I’ve been told that they can drop to as low as 14, but that hasn’t happened yet. Anyway, the mist clears up by about 8 a.m., and then the sun comes out, unless there happens to be a dust cloud in the area. Still no very hot days yet – I can tell, because I haven’t felt the need to change shirts during the day.
Speaking of dust, it’s all over the place. The roads are dusty, and the cars of course raise great clouds of the stuff as they pass by, even on the major paved roads. One is constantly having to brush down one’s trousers so that one appears somewhat respectable. The travails, I tell you! So, just for your excitement, you need to know that I keep a little sponge at the office just for that purpose.
I think that in my last posting, I spoke of the little hitch that had thrown up its head (as it were) with respect to the development of a number of documents. As I write this, nothing has been resolved – of course there are two governments involved and, as I can well attest, things take time to go through government. And here, it’s slower than at home, so… No doubt everything will be resolved in due course.
The weekend of January 25th was a very sociable one. It started on the Thursday actually, when I invited one of my colleagues for supper – a young man of 30, Christian is one of the technicians who fixes things to do with computers, a very nice man and good at his job – he must be, because he explains things to me in a way that I can understand! Anyway, the reason for the invitation was that I had neglected to invite him to the housewarming party in December, and I felt a bit guilty about this, to put it mildly. I also invited his younger brother, Hermann, who is in the final stages of his training at the Centre. I hadn’t realized until early in the week that Christian and Hermann were brothers, and it would have been “off” to invite one but not the other. It was only over supper that I learned that Christian is also a trainee, and he is doing his work term at the Centre (where he also took his course). Most amusing, since there had actually been no reason for guilt! Still, it was a pleasant evening, as Christian has the gift of keeping a conversation going. I fed them a sort of tomato sauce with beef, served on rice, and they were most impressed at the fact that I could cook, and moreover, that it was edible (“Mmmm, just like African food!). I also met their mother (this gets complicated – only in Africa!), who was attending a wake at the chapel up the hill. The young men don’t live with their mother (too far away, I gather), but of course, since she was in the area, she wanted to see them. Christian wasn’t too sure what to do, so I told him to bring his mother along (she called while they were at the house), so that’s what he did. She didn’t stay long, just enough to glug down a bottle of Schweppes tonic, and then was off to visit a sister in hospital before returning to the wake. Very nice lady.
Anyway, there was food left over, and I couldn’t see myself eating the quantities that were left, so on the Friday, I invited the young men to come and finish up the meal at lunch. Christian couldn’t come, but Hermann did and nobly wolfed down half of the remains, saying he might come back in the evening to finish it off, if that was ok with me. Most amusing. He’s a nice young man (I can’t think of another adjective).
Friday being the last day of the month, I decided that the colleagues and I should repair to a bar for a round of drinks. I’ll probably do that every month (going out with the guys plus one lady), as it’s rather fun. My, but they drink! Still, all worth it in the long run. I just about manage to glug down one bottle (they’re big ones) while they down about three each. I think I come over as a very sober person, not sure if that’s a good thing. I just tell them that it’s not warm enough yet for me! Anyway, I’d brought a torch with me so that I could walk back home (we weren’t that far away), but it seems that there was no question that I should go unaccompanied, so Christian (who joins in these things, which is what made me think he was a member of the staff) was delegated to return me home, since it was on his way home also. So, of course, I invited him in and offered him the rest of the meal that his brother hadn’t finished (the latter having called to say that he couldn’t make it after all). By the time Christian left, it was 10 o’clock, and definitely time for the old man to go to bed, even on a Friday night! What one beer does to me…
Saturday morning was the usual round of shops, stocking up on quite a few things, with Njikam, who you remember is my favourite taximan, very apologetic for being 15 minutes late, having been held up by an accident – he wasn’t involved, just stuck in the traffic. Normally, he calls to say if he’s going to be late, but his phone wasn’t charged. Poor man! He takes pride in being right on time when coming to get me, as long as I’ve arrange a time with him. It’s quite delightful to see him pulling up at precisely the right minute, just like I do! Anyway, a pleasant time was had, as always, going round the various shops, and, as always, visiting different parts of town.
Then, on Saturday afternoon, I went off to see the tailor to whom I’d been introduced earlier in the week by one of my colleagues. You’ll be delighted to know that I’m losing weight – on purpose, may I add. As my trousers are just about falling off the hips (yay, the diet is working), I figured I needed new trousers, tighter, to encourage me to continue. I brought along one pair that I have with me as the model to follow, and made arrangements to have the two pairs made, as well as two pairs of shorts (I change into them on arrival at home, so that I can dust off the trousers!), and another dressing gown, with some nice material that I picked up a while back, a mere $12 for 6 yards. I do have a dressing gown with me, but it does need washing once in a while. Very complicated life I lead: first thing in the morning, out of night clothes, into dressing gown, and, while I have tea on the porch, the water heater does its thing; then it’s shower time and the ballet, then I get dressed. My, such a busy life! When I get back in the afternoon, and then, after my evening shower and ballet, back into the dressing gown. One has to fill one’s life with some activity!
On Saturday evening (we’re now on January 26th), the Centre was having its annual staff party, to which I’d been invited. I guess I should say that it’s the “Amicale de Don Bosco” that was holding the bash. This is sort of the staff association and I don’t think that all members of staff have to belong to it. However, once I discovered this, I asked if I couldn’t contribute, although I’m not officially a member of the Centre’s staff. It was quickly decided that I could become an honorary member and this was toasted all evening. Very nice, I must say. The invitation – an official one – had said that the bash was starting at precisely 6 p.m., so I duly showed up, along with about 4 others at the appointed time. I know better, but I was impressed by the “precisely at 6 p.m. on the invitation! A TV had been set up, since Cameroun was playing against Zambia (African Cup of Nations), and it was soon obvious that nothing was going to happen until this match was over. It was considered an important match, since in their first game, Cameroun had lost ignominiously to Egypt, 5 to 1. Most insulting for the Lions, known as one of the stronger teams on the continent. Anyway, fortunately, Cameroun won, 5 to 1 (yup!) against Zambia, to great cries of joy, honking of cars etc. Just to close off the football saga (soccer), Cameroon also won its next match and qualified for the quarter finals. The next two weeks are going to be crazy: if the Cameroonian team keeps on winning, the country will be partying non-stop, and if they lose somewhere along the line, mourning will be the order of the day. If I sound like I know what I’m talking about, it’s because it’s catching!
By the time the match was over on the Saturday evening, most people had arrived. There had been a trickle all the way through, but we were finally about 60 people, including the père Natalino, the director, with long beard suitably groomed. Speeches were made, new officers introduced, including yours truly, who, to his surprise, was nominated “special advisor”, along with the père. A picture was taken, to be found here, along with two others – one of me dancing with Mme Calvin, wife of the general maintenance man, and one kneeling next to Laurence (one of the Lauries!), our secretary and her husband. A good meal was provided, although I begged off the tapioca, and good chats all around. Then there was a round of present giving (not quite sure why, but anyway) and then the dancing started. All lots of fun, but I left early, at about midnight.
Such a wild life I lead! Sunday was more relaxing, although my two young men showed up unexpectedly (I’d told them that they would always be welcome, so…), at about 4:30. I took this to be a hint that they wouldn’t mind being fed again! They live with another brother, sharing an apartment (well, probably just a room, but I haven’t enquired!) and I imagine that funds can be tight. Anyway, it was quite fun to see them again, and they were quite happy reading old copies of Jeune Afrique and a couple of other magazines that I had around, while I got supper ready. I made a couscous, fortunately having bought some merguez (Algerian lamb sausage) the day before. This time, I sent them home with the left-overs, in a tub. The tub was duly returned a few days later, along with two pineapples – a thank you gift, I suppose. I must have told them that it was my favourite fruit, and it is in plentiful supply, as are oranges, grapefruit, mandarin oranges and various other fruit of tropical nature.
Well, all that excitement! It certainly made a change from the great issues of the day, one of which concerns toe-nails. I’m sure you’re really interested in this, and I’ll bore you anyway! You need to know (do you really?) that my toe-nails are very, very hard, and it is very difficult to trim them. Unfortunately, I do not have a strong pair of toe-nail scissors, nor clipper for that matter. I do have a clipper for my fingernails, you’ll be relieved to know, but they don’t work on my toe-nails, which need to be soaked for half an hour or more just to make them relatively hard, as opposed to granite-hard. And no, I can’t find toe-nail scissors in Yaoundé – I’ve looked and looked. There are nail scissors to be found, of course, but only little things and they usually come in a little kit, together with all sorts of manicuring implements, and cost the earth. I’m now waiting for scissors to arrive from Canada, sent by my loving wife (no doubt carefully wrapped), through the good offices of a colleague who is coming to do some consultancy work for the project. I can hardly wait…. Meanwhile, my toe-nails grow – fortunately, I wear sandals and it’s the dry season – I’m not sure that my feet will fit in my shoes at the moment. Not quite Guinness Book of Records, but getting there!
How’s that for an exciting life?
Cheers all!
David
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Photos
Here are a few photos, taken with the digital camera owned by the office. Unfortunately, no photos of Yaoundé itself - the ones I took with the throw-away camera didn't turn out at all. I'll try again!
Cheers!
David
Bedroom
Kitchen
Kitchen
Living room
Living room.
Hallway (isn't it fascinating?).
Study
Colleagues at my housewarming party.
Colleagues at my housewarming party.
Before midnight, December 24.
After midnight, December 25.
Yum - Christmas dinner!
View from the balcony.
My building - the apartement is the one behind the long balcony.
View of my building - with the office building in the background!
Cheers!
David
Bedroom
Kitchen
Kitchen
Living room
Living room.
Hallway (isn't it fascinating?).
Study
Colleagues at my housewarming party.
Colleagues at my housewarming party.
Before midnight, December 24.
After midnight, December 25.
Yum - Christmas dinner!
View from the balcony.
My building - the apartement is the one behind the long balcony.
View of my building - with the office building in the background!Cheers!
David
David
Friday, January 11, 2008
Yaoundé, Friday, January 11, 2008
Happy New Year to you all! Sorry about the delay in adding to this blog – it has been fairly busy, and, as I announced before Christmas, I didn’t have access to Internet for a while. And, of course, I’ve been enjoying myself relaxing!
Life has been fairly quiet here, I must admit, which was to be expected. Once a routine is set up, things do carry on same-old, same-old, and that is fine. The Centre closed on Friday afternoon, December 21, and I didn’t do much at all over the Christmas week. I did go into town on the Saturday before Christmas to visit a couple of supermarkets and get the food I needed for my Christmas dinner, and also to pick up some reading matter from the two libraries that I’ve found (one French, one English).
On Christmas Eve, I went to midnight mass, at the chapel (rather large for a chapel, but that’s what they call it!) up the road. It’s run by the Salesian order (the same order that runs the Centre where I work) and serves as the parish church until the new church is finished (half-built across the street). The mass started at 8 and finished at 10:15 – quite the ceremony! It was a high mass (everything being chanted) interspersed with hymns and various songs in the local dialect, sung by a very energetic choir. There was a bit of a theatrical set-up, the complete significance of which escaped me, which consisted of members of the choir entering the chapel from the back, leaning over towards the floor, chanting something in the local language and bursting out with “Hallelujah” every so often while waving what looked like mops in the air. Most amusing! There was quite a crowd there, of course, including a couple of my colleagues, who explained that the mass was held early so that the priests could then attend the midnight mass being celebrated at the Basilica by the papal nuncio. There was also a splendid crèche that had been made by a local sculptor.
I stayed up until just after midnight, chatting with Aurel, the night guard on duty (Lordy, how he talks!) and then opened my gifts – books, a 2008 calendar and the most exciting one which was the tub that held all my favourite candies: Mars bars (not soggy, fortunately!), Kraft caramels and jelly beans. Yum! I think the tub was the most appreciated! A good size and just the kind of thing that is needed. Tubs can be found here and are not too expensive, but there is not much variation in the size. I can’t find little jars (great crisis, of course!) in which to put the few spices that I’ve purchased, so I’ve been using the tubs for storing that kind of thing!
Christmas Day was spent doing nothing much – although I have to confess to doing a bit of work every day, since, although the Centre was closed, December 24, 26, 27 and 28 were not official holidays. I spent a lot of the time cleaning up documents that have to be ready for the end of February (and still lots to do), as well as revising a report whose first draft I’d submitted in June. You may remember that I went to Wales last spring for a week, and I had submitted the first draft soon after my return to Canada last June, but hadn’t heard anything back until a couple of days before leaving for here. So it had been sitting around looking at me with woebegone pages, while I wondered if I could still remember what I had meant by the various recommendations made in it! Life as a second language consultant seems so far removed now, that I think I’m forgetting everything that I knew on the subject of language teaching. I wish I could say that the brain content is being replaced by masses of technical knowledge, but I fear that that is not the case – yet! I’ve only just managed to figure out how to zip photo files!
Christmas dinner was quite a success, although I ate it alone. I managed to cook my leg of lamb – the oven will take some getting used to, as it has no indication of temperature (just hot and various gradations down to low), so I had to guess a bit about the temperature. I still have to buy some baking dishes, but managed to place the leg of lamb on the tray that comes with the oven – no grill, to my surprise, but I’ll see if I can find one somewhere. Most inconvenient not to have a grill, as it means that there is only one level that can be used in the oven. And no, no turkey story this year. Perhaps there will be one next year, but I was unable to find even a part of the said fowl. How sad!
Judith, the housekeeper who had been recommended by a former colleague here was away until after New Year’s. She moved from Douala, the economic centre of Cameroon, in order to start work with me and had decided that her children should remain in there until the end of the school year, so I gave her the week off, rather than put her to the expense of paying for two trips to Douala. She had suggested that she would come back for the Thursday and Friday between Christmas and New Year’s, but I thought that was a bit excessive. Amazing how these people feel that one can’t survive without help!
Speaking of help, we now have a third sentinel (I’ve decided that that is a great word!) – I’d given the thought some matter, since the two hired so far, Dahirou (I finally learned to spell his name!) and Aurel were each working seven days a week, a fact that caused me some discomfort, to put it mildly. Anyway, Aurel, who has decided that he’s the sentinel-in-chief, duly found a young man willing to be the replacement guard. Mustafa will be working two nights a week (replacing Aurel) and two days a week (replacing Dahirou) and a fifth day in order to get the washing done. No, I don’t have a washing machine, and Judith has a slightly handicapped left hand which makes it difficult to wash by hand. Plus, I imagine it’s not much fun, either! Anyway, Mustafa started work just before Christmas Eve, and I must that he’s a very conscientious fellow – in addition to doing the washing, while Judith’s been away he’s insisted on cleaning the house. No complaints from me, that’s for sure! He’s a very quiet young man, in his late twenties, with two children, one of whom, a daughter, lives with him. Aouah is just over four years old and an absolute sweetheart and has become an adoptive grand-daughter. Mustafa had been jobless for a while, so he’s delighted at having found work.
Aurel continues to be a live-wire, with dire warnings about security problems, and an incessant stream of demands – or perhaps I should say requests – he’s still angling for his TV (three mentions during the course of every evening that we chat). The TV is garnering even more importance as a great soccer tournament is about to start in Ghana on January 20 – The Africa Cup of Nations (I think). Obviously he doesn’t want to miss any of this, although I pointed out that he could listen to the matches on the radio. He doesn’t have a very high opinion of this, I must admit, although I have told him many times that I would find it difficult to purchase a TV for people who work for me, since I don’t own one and never watch it even if there’s one in the room. I also said that I’d been enquiring around and I haven’t heard of any sentinels who have TV provided by their employer. Dear, dear, what shall I do? Aurel also thinks that I should buy a phone for the sentinels so that they can call me if something happens during the day, etc. I told him that I wasn’t going for that, because then I’d be responsible for the bills. He’s also mentioned the fact that he’d like to have a digital camera, one that takes videos as well and can be recharged at the wall. Asked why, he explained that this would allow photography to become a source of income. He asked how much these cameras cost in Canada, and I said I would ask my wife to enquire and let him know. He wants me to purchase it and take out the price of his monthly income. Of course, he no doubts hope that I will be kind and offer it to him as a gift. And so on, and so on…. I tend to escape into my study shortly after his arrival, which means that my balcony time during the evenings is sorely curtailed. Sad, isn’t it?
The third sentinel, Dahirou, who was actually the first to be hired, had to be spoken to. He’s a very nice man, a tad obsequious mind you, but, alas, addicted to drink and to taking off at all times of the day when he’s supposed to be working. I caught him drinking on the job one day (I think he thinks I didn’t see the glass), and noticed that he was spending a lot of time at the snack bar (with a bottle of beer in front of him) during the day. The snack bar is in the same building as the apartment, and I can see it from the office (a fact of which Dahirou was unaware!). Difficult to be guarding the premises when one isn’t there and knocking back the beer elsewhere! Anyway, one morning I spoke to him, explaining that I realized that this might be the first time that he was being a sentinel, but that I expected him to stay put (the odd short excursion to get food being allowed), since that’s what I’m paying him for. I can understand that it can be a bit boring, as there is no garden to work over, but still… So far, it seems to have worked, but I did tell him that he was under observation – especially since I found empty sachets of whisky lying around one afternoon. Yes, my friends, whisky can be bought in little bags, about the size of those that contain towellettes, and there were quite a few bags around one day. It’s hard not to feel sorry for Dahirou, though, as he lives in a wooden shack just behind the Centre – it seems that he has another job (no idea how much it pays, but obviously not much!) looking after a half-completed house. The shack is more of a lean-to, actually, a bit depressing, and seems to be full of little children. I’m not sure if they’re his children or grandchildren, but anyway, as I said, it’s hard not to feel sorry for him – but nonetheless, I need him to do the work for which he’s being paid.
New Year’s was equally quiet, although I treated myself to some beer with my meal – one whole bottle. When I say quiet, I mean here in the apartment, where I saw the New Year in with Aurel and Mustafa. It was decided that two sentinels were needed on New Year’s Eve, with dire warnings from Aurel about young hoodlums coming home after the fireworks downtown. The snack bar (really, just a bar!) downstairs was doing roaring business, and I got a couple of loud invitations to come and join the festivities. Very kind, but no thanks, since I knew that I would end up paying for the whole night – and not my kind of scene anyway! It was fun to sit on the balcony (being pressed for a TV, etc) while watching dressed-up people on their way downtown, where there was a big party going on. Ladies are to be admired – teetering on extremely high heels over the rutted roads takes quite a lot of balance! The three of us listened to the President’s speech, who said that things had gone fairly well during 2007, not as well as he had hoped. He put out a call for action in 2008, putting his ministers on notice to get things done, as well as announcing that the fight over corruption was going to continue (Cameroon is in first place in Africa with respect to corruption, not a glorious record!). He also announced that, due to popular pressure, another look was going to be given to the Constitution in order to allow presidents to offer for more than two successive terms. Biya will be 77 when the next election comes around, and, of course, there is “popular pressure” to have him remain. They never learn… ah well. Biya is one of the “young” ones, he’s only been around for twenty-five years…
Hmm, what else has happened? Nothing exciting, really, except that I managed to get a hair-cut. Phew… I was starting to look very shaggy. In fact, I was starting to look a lot like Father Natalino, the director of the Centre, who boasts of a very shaggy head and long, long beard. This was no doubt why I was being called “Mon père” by people, so I wrote to a contact at the High Commission and asked the helpful lady if there was a salon that she could recommend for bald men. I was given directions and went there one morning, driven, as always, by the ever faithful Njikam. Very pleasant experience, thank you (the hair-cut, I mean). One is greeted by a charming lady, who gently leads one to the washing chair and then proceeds to wash the hair (the scalp, I suppose I should say!). Then, she gently escorts you to the coiffeuse’s chair, and sets you up with all kinds of do-dads around the neck. The coiffeuse then came over, with her tray of instruments – an equally charming lady, but older, with nicely streaked grey hair. I didn’t dare ask her if the grey was natural or not… Anyway, she asked me if I wanted it short, and I said yes. Mon Dieu…. Short it is! Basically, I got a buzz cut, nothing left to brush, in fact! I look even more like a père, I think! However, it was a relief to get shorn, and it wasn’t a bad price – about what I paid at home.
After the hair-cut, off I went to the various supermarkets and also to the libraries to exchange books. On the way to one of the libraries, I had a mishap, alas… I guess I wasn’t watching where I was putting my foot, trying to avoid passers-by and taxis etc, and I lost my balance and fell. My greatest fear, as I was falling, was that my glasses would break! Anyway, just a few scratches, and a bit of blood – two scrapes on my right hand (they looked rather ugly, I must admit, and a couple on my right knee – fortunately, I didn’t tear my trousers. Anyway, I nobly carried on to the library, got my new books, dropped in to a supermarket next door to the library, to pick up my weekly Jeune Afrique (a magazine like TIME, focusing on Africa) and a bit of food, all the while dripping blood from my right hand, and then got Njikam to take me to a pharmacy. There I got some rubbing alcohol and some iodine, as well as advice from the pharmacist about leaving the sores open to the air. Needless to say, it was a sore business cleaning up, but I got the dirt out, which was my main concern. I did this three times over the next twenty-four hours. Of course, I felt terribly sorry for myself as I hobbled around for a couple of days, but everything cleared up quickly. That will teach me to try to walk quickly!
And to top it all off, my favourite supermarket stocked maple syrup over Christmas – at a price, but I allowed myself to get some – yum! Far more expensive than wine, though….
The Centre re-opened on January 2, and I spent that day preparing for workshops that I ran on the Thursday and Friday. Part of my role is to offer pedagogical support, and, as the students were not returning until January 7, it seemed like a good occasion to offer a workshop, based on themes requested by my colleagues. This basically kept me busy – it was quite fun to lead a workshop after a few months of not doing so!
It’s been quite busy on the work front. As I mentioned briefly above, I’ve been working on these documents called “référentiels”, which are like curriculum guide outlines, and “documents d’accompagnement”, which are like the curriculum guides themselves. Quite a slog, although I have a lot of experience in the type of thing, but the subject matter is not in the least in my frame of reference! This is a sort of sub-project done to please the local Ministry of Employment and Vocational Training, and the documents that we are working on are to be the template for myriad others that will be developed over the years. Basically, the Ministry gets all the work done by others and then validates it. The référentiels then become the master documents, I guess you could call it that, for any training establishment that wants to offer courses that meet Ministry guidelines. The Ministry will also offer national exams once in a while, so there is a “national interest” to all this.
In order to accomplish part of this task, the services of a local consultant were retained. The man has quite the pedigree, with a couple of Masters’ degrees (Université du Québec à Montréal and Université de Montréal, as well as a PhD from the University of Ottawa. He’s done a lot of consulting work for various Canadian firms as well as for the UN, and LearnSphere (the consulting firm that has hired me) asked him to carry out the work, as it was then understood to be: ie, consult the industry (employers) to see what it is that they are looking for in terms of technological employees (ie, secretaries, systems maintenance, etc.). Basically, the idea was to make a list of necessary skills, and then consult with trainers to see how these skills could be acquired (training modules). The referential lists the skills, if you like, and the document d’accompagnement lists the ways of getting the skills. It’s a bit more complicated than that, of course, but that’s basically it…
One of the minor problems with this whole mini project is that the demands of the Ministry changed from the time of awarding the contract to the time when the first documents appeared. I liked what I saw of the documents, and felt that, basically, all that was needed was some proof-reading (what else is new?), some formatting and then have someone who knows about the various technical courses go through it for consistency. After that, it would be a case of having the Ministry look things over and give it the final go-ahead. The idea also is that there would be some Canadian input and visible Canadian content. However, the new demands by the Ministry mean that there will be a bit more work to be done.
Other than proof-reading, I spent some time reformatting the documents to meet the ministry’s guidelines (new). There is a fairly short timeline for this part of the project, as everything has to be completed by the end of March, so the next few weeks will be quite busy with meetings and, no doubt, rewriting bits of the various documents, eighteen in all.
Other than that, life continues in its very relaxed way. It may sound as if I’ve been doing nothing but work, but there have been many hours spent sitting on the balcony, doing some reading. I think I’m reading more slowly, because I haven’t started a number of the books that I brought with me, nor the books that I received at Christmas. It is wonderful to have a job where most of the work can be accomplished within working hours – and no snow!!!
I’m not sure how often I will add to the blog in the next little while – not that I won’t want to, but I’m not sure to what extent you will all want to hear about the hum drum of daily life. Of course, if anything wildly amusing were to happen, I will add to the journal! In case you’re wondering, I’m consuming loads and loads of pineapples, tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and drinking lots of iced tea (hot tea in the mornings, though). Still having fun with the shower in the mornings!
Well, my friends, that about sums it up! Hope it hasn’t taken you too long to go through this, and also hope that things are going well with all of you. I do try to reply to e-mails, but until I get Internet at home, replies will be sporadic…
Cheers!
David
Life has been fairly quiet here, I must admit, which was to be expected. Once a routine is set up, things do carry on same-old, same-old, and that is fine. The Centre closed on Friday afternoon, December 21, and I didn’t do much at all over the Christmas week. I did go into town on the Saturday before Christmas to visit a couple of supermarkets and get the food I needed for my Christmas dinner, and also to pick up some reading matter from the two libraries that I’ve found (one French, one English).
On Christmas Eve, I went to midnight mass, at the chapel (rather large for a chapel, but that’s what they call it!) up the road. It’s run by the Salesian order (the same order that runs the Centre where I work) and serves as the parish church until the new church is finished (half-built across the street). The mass started at 8 and finished at 10:15 – quite the ceremony! It was a high mass (everything being chanted) interspersed with hymns and various songs in the local dialect, sung by a very energetic choir. There was a bit of a theatrical set-up, the complete significance of which escaped me, which consisted of members of the choir entering the chapel from the back, leaning over towards the floor, chanting something in the local language and bursting out with “Hallelujah” every so often while waving what looked like mops in the air. Most amusing! There was quite a crowd there, of course, including a couple of my colleagues, who explained that the mass was held early so that the priests could then attend the midnight mass being celebrated at the Basilica by the papal nuncio. There was also a splendid crèche that had been made by a local sculptor.
I stayed up until just after midnight, chatting with Aurel, the night guard on duty (Lordy, how he talks!) and then opened my gifts – books, a 2008 calendar and the most exciting one which was the tub that held all my favourite candies: Mars bars (not soggy, fortunately!), Kraft caramels and jelly beans. Yum! I think the tub was the most appreciated! A good size and just the kind of thing that is needed. Tubs can be found here and are not too expensive, but there is not much variation in the size. I can’t find little jars (great crisis, of course!) in which to put the few spices that I’ve purchased, so I’ve been using the tubs for storing that kind of thing!
Christmas Day was spent doing nothing much – although I have to confess to doing a bit of work every day, since, although the Centre was closed, December 24, 26, 27 and 28 were not official holidays. I spent a lot of the time cleaning up documents that have to be ready for the end of February (and still lots to do), as well as revising a report whose first draft I’d submitted in June. You may remember that I went to Wales last spring for a week, and I had submitted the first draft soon after my return to Canada last June, but hadn’t heard anything back until a couple of days before leaving for here. So it had been sitting around looking at me with woebegone pages, while I wondered if I could still remember what I had meant by the various recommendations made in it! Life as a second language consultant seems so far removed now, that I think I’m forgetting everything that I knew on the subject of language teaching. I wish I could say that the brain content is being replaced by masses of technical knowledge, but I fear that that is not the case – yet! I’ve only just managed to figure out how to zip photo files!
Christmas dinner was quite a success, although I ate it alone. I managed to cook my leg of lamb – the oven will take some getting used to, as it has no indication of temperature (just hot and various gradations down to low), so I had to guess a bit about the temperature. I still have to buy some baking dishes, but managed to place the leg of lamb on the tray that comes with the oven – no grill, to my surprise, but I’ll see if I can find one somewhere. Most inconvenient not to have a grill, as it means that there is only one level that can be used in the oven. And no, no turkey story this year. Perhaps there will be one next year, but I was unable to find even a part of the said fowl. How sad!
Judith, the housekeeper who had been recommended by a former colleague here was away until after New Year’s. She moved from Douala, the economic centre of Cameroon, in order to start work with me and had decided that her children should remain in there until the end of the school year, so I gave her the week off, rather than put her to the expense of paying for two trips to Douala. She had suggested that she would come back for the Thursday and Friday between Christmas and New Year’s, but I thought that was a bit excessive. Amazing how these people feel that one can’t survive without help!
Speaking of help, we now have a third sentinel (I’ve decided that that is a great word!) – I’d given the thought some matter, since the two hired so far, Dahirou (I finally learned to spell his name!) and Aurel were each working seven days a week, a fact that caused me some discomfort, to put it mildly. Anyway, Aurel, who has decided that he’s the sentinel-in-chief, duly found a young man willing to be the replacement guard. Mustafa will be working two nights a week (replacing Aurel) and two days a week (replacing Dahirou) and a fifth day in order to get the washing done. No, I don’t have a washing machine, and Judith has a slightly handicapped left hand which makes it difficult to wash by hand. Plus, I imagine it’s not much fun, either! Anyway, Mustafa started work just before Christmas Eve, and I must that he’s a very conscientious fellow – in addition to doing the washing, while Judith’s been away he’s insisted on cleaning the house. No complaints from me, that’s for sure! He’s a very quiet young man, in his late twenties, with two children, one of whom, a daughter, lives with him. Aouah is just over four years old and an absolute sweetheart and has become an adoptive grand-daughter. Mustafa had been jobless for a while, so he’s delighted at having found work.
Aurel continues to be a live-wire, with dire warnings about security problems, and an incessant stream of demands – or perhaps I should say requests – he’s still angling for his TV (three mentions during the course of every evening that we chat). The TV is garnering even more importance as a great soccer tournament is about to start in Ghana on January 20 – The Africa Cup of Nations (I think). Obviously he doesn’t want to miss any of this, although I pointed out that he could listen to the matches on the radio. He doesn’t have a very high opinion of this, I must admit, although I have told him many times that I would find it difficult to purchase a TV for people who work for me, since I don’t own one and never watch it even if there’s one in the room. I also said that I’d been enquiring around and I haven’t heard of any sentinels who have TV provided by their employer. Dear, dear, what shall I do? Aurel also thinks that I should buy a phone for the sentinels so that they can call me if something happens during the day, etc. I told him that I wasn’t going for that, because then I’d be responsible for the bills. He’s also mentioned the fact that he’d like to have a digital camera, one that takes videos as well and can be recharged at the wall. Asked why, he explained that this would allow photography to become a source of income. He asked how much these cameras cost in Canada, and I said I would ask my wife to enquire and let him know. He wants me to purchase it and take out the price of his monthly income. Of course, he no doubts hope that I will be kind and offer it to him as a gift. And so on, and so on…. I tend to escape into my study shortly after his arrival, which means that my balcony time during the evenings is sorely curtailed. Sad, isn’t it?
The third sentinel, Dahirou, who was actually the first to be hired, had to be spoken to. He’s a very nice man, a tad obsequious mind you, but, alas, addicted to drink and to taking off at all times of the day when he’s supposed to be working. I caught him drinking on the job one day (I think he thinks I didn’t see the glass), and noticed that he was spending a lot of time at the snack bar (with a bottle of beer in front of him) during the day. The snack bar is in the same building as the apartment, and I can see it from the office (a fact of which Dahirou was unaware!). Difficult to be guarding the premises when one isn’t there and knocking back the beer elsewhere! Anyway, one morning I spoke to him, explaining that I realized that this might be the first time that he was being a sentinel, but that I expected him to stay put (the odd short excursion to get food being allowed), since that’s what I’m paying him for. I can understand that it can be a bit boring, as there is no garden to work over, but still… So far, it seems to have worked, but I did tell him that he was under observation – especially since I found empty sachets of whisky lying around one afternoon. Yes, my friends, whisky can be bought in little bags, about the size of those that contain towellettes, and there were quite a few bags around one day. It’s hard not to feel sorry for Dahirou, though, as he lives in a wooden shack just behind the Centre – it seems that he has another job (no idea how much it pays, but obviously not much!) looking after a half-completed house. The shack is more of a lean-to, actually, a bit depressing, and seems to be full of little children. I’m not sure if they’re his children or grandchildren, but anyway, as I said, it’s hard not to feel sorry for him – but nonetheless, I need him to do the work for which he’s being paid.
New Year’s was equally quiet, although I treated myself to some beer with my meal – one whole bottle. When I say quiet, I mean here in the apartment, where I saw the New Year in with Aurel and Mustafa. It was decided that two sentinels were needed on New Year’s Eve, with dire warnings from Aurel about young hoodlums coming home after the fireworks downtown. The snack bar (really, just a bar!) downstairs was doing roaring business, and I got a couple of loud invitations to come and join the festivities. Very kind, but no thanks, since I knew that I would end up paying for the whole night – and not my kind of scene anyway! It was fun to sit on the balcony (being pressed for a TV, etc) while watching dressed-up people on their way downtown, where there was a big party going on. Ladies are to be admired – teetering on extremely high heels over the rutted roads takes quite a lot of balance! The three of us listened to the President’s speech, who said that things had gone fairly well during 2007, not as well as he had hoped. He put out a call for action in 2008, putting his ministers on notice to get things done, as well as announcing that the fight over corruption was going to continue (Cameroon is in first place in Africa with respect to corruption, not a glorious record!). He also announced that, due to popular pressure, another look was going to be given to the Constitution in order to allow presidents to offer for more than two successive terms. Biya will be 77 when the next election comes around, and, of course, there is “popular pressure” to have him remain. They never learn… ah well. Biya is one of the “young” ones, he’s only been around for twenty-five years…
Hmm, what else has happened? Nothing exciting, really, except that I managed to get a hair-cut. Phew… I was starting to look very shaggy. In fact, I was starting to look a lot like Father Natalino, the director of the Centre, who boasts of a very shaggy head and long, long beard. This was no doubt why I was being called “Mon père” by people, so I wrote to a contact at the High Commission and asked the helpful lady if there was a salon that she could recommend for bald men. I was given directions and went there one morning, driven, as always, by the ever faithful Njikam. Very pleasant experience, thank you (the hair-cut, I mean). One is greeted by a charming lady, who gently leads one to the washing chair and then proceeds to wash the hair (the scalp, I suppose I should say!). Then, she gently escorts you to the coiffeuse’s chair, and sets you up with all kinds of do-dads around the neck. The coiffeuse then came over, with her tray of instruments – an equally charming lady, but older, with nicely streaked grey hair. I didn’t dare ask her if the grey was natural or not… Anyway, she asked me if I wanted it short, and I said yes. Mon Dieu…. Short it is! Basically, I got a buzz cut, nothing left to brush, in fact! I look even more like a père, I think! However, it was a relief to get shorn, and it wasn’t a bad price – about what I paid at home.
After the hair-cut, off I went to the various supermarkets and also to the libraries to exchange books. On the way to one of the libraries, I had a mishap, alas… I guess I wasn’t watching where I was putting my foot, trying to avoid passers-by and taxis etc, and I lost my balance and fell. My greatest fear, as I was falling, was that my glasses would break! Anyway, just a few scratches, and a bit of blood – two scrapes on my right hand (they looked rather ugly, I must admit, and a couple on my right knee – fortunately, I didn’t tear my trousers. Anyway, I nobly carried on to the library, got my new books, dropped in to a supermarket next door to the library, to pick up my weekly Jeune Afrique (a magazine like TIME, focusing on Africa) and a bit of food, all the while dripping blood from my right hand, and then got Njikam to take me to a pharmacy. There I got some rubbing alcohol and some iodine, as well as advice from the pharmacist about leaving the sores open to the air. Needless to say, it was a sore business cleaning up, but I got the dirt out, which was my main concern. I did this three times over the next twenty-four hours. Of course, I felt terribly sorry for myself as I hobbled around for a couple of days, but everything cleared up quickly. That will teach me to try to walk quickly!
And to top it all off, my favourite supermarket stocked maple syrup over Christmas – at a price, but I allowed myself to get some – yum! Far more expensive than wine, though….
The Centre re-opened on January 2, and I spent that day preparing for workshops that I ran on the Thursday and Friday. Part of my role is to offer pedagogical support, and, as the students were not returning until January 7, it seemed like a good occasion to offer a workshop, based on themes requested by my colleagues. This basically kept me busy – it was quite fun to lead a workshop after a few months of not doing so!
It’s been quite busy on the work front. As I mentioned briefly above, I’ve been working on these documents called “référentiels”, which are like curriculum guide outlines, and “documents d’accompagnement”, which are like the curriculum guides themselves. Quite a slog, although I have a lot of experience in the type of thing, but the subject matter is not in the least in my frame of reference! This is a sort of sub-project done to please the local Ministry of Employment and Vocational Training, and the documents that we are working on are to be the template for myriad others that will be developed over the years. Basically, the Ministry gets all the work done by others and then validates it. The référentiels then become the master documents, I guess you could call it that, for any training establishment that wants to offer courses that meet Ministry guidelines. The Ministry will also offer national exams once in a while, so there is a “national interest” to all this.
In order to accomplish part of this task, the services of a local consultant were retained. The man has quite the pedigree, with a couple of Masters’ degrees (Université du Québec à Montréal and Université de Montréal, as well as a PhD from the University of Ottawa. He’s done a lot of consulting work for various Canadian firms as well as for the UN, and LearnSphere (the consulting firm that has hired me) asked him to carry out the work, as it was then understood to be: ie, consult the industry (employers) to see what it is that they are looking for in terms of technological employees (ie, secretaries, systems maintenance, etc.). Basically, the idea was to make a list of necessary skills, and then consult with trainers to see how these skills could be acquired (training modules). The referential lists the skills, if you like, and the document d’accompagnement lists the ways of getting the skills. It’s a bit more complicated than that, of course, but that’s basically it…
One of the minor problems with this whole mini project is that the demands of the Ministry changed from the time of awarding the contract to the time when the first documents appeared. I liked what I saw of the documents, and felt that, basically, all that was needed was some proof-reading (what else is new?), some formatting and then have someone who knows about the various technical courses go through it for consistency. After that, it would be a case of having the Ministry look things over and give it the final go-ahead. The idea also is that there would be some Canadian input and visible Canadian content. However, the new demands by the Ministry mean that there will be a bit more work to be done.
Other than proof-reading, I spent some time reformatting the documents to meet the ministry’s guidelines (new). There is a fairly short timeline for this part of the project, as everything has to be completed by the end of March, so the next few weeks will be quite busy with meetings and, no doubt, rewriting bits of the various documents, eighteen in all.
Other than that, life continues in its very relaxed way. It may sound as if I’ve been doing nothing but work, but there have been many hours spent sitting on the balcony, doing some reading. I think I’m reading more slowly, because I haven’t started a number of the books that I brought with me, nor the books that I received at Christmas. It is wonderful to have a job where most of the work can be accomplished within working hours – and no snow!!!
I’m not sure how often I will add to the blog in the next little while – not that I won’t want to, but I’m not sure to what extent you will all want to hear about the hum drum of daily life. Of course, if anything wildly amusing were to happen, I will add to the journal! In case you’re wondering, I’m consuming loads and loads of pineapples, tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and drinking lots of iced tea (hot tea in the mornings, though). Still having fun with the shower in the mornings!
Well, my friends, that about sums it up! Hope it hasn’t taken you too long to go through this, and also hope that things are going well with all of you. I do try to reply to e-mails, but until I get Internet at home, replies will be sporadic…
Cheers!
David
Monday, December 17, 2007
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Yaoundé
Greetings, all!
Sorry to have taken so long to add to this blog – it has been a very busy three weeks, and, to be honest, the writing spirit didn’t really strike. And, I must say, I’m enjoying relaxing evenings!
Well, the bank account was finally set up, nearly three weeks ago! You’ll remember that I needed a letter of introduction from the High Commission, a lease, two photographs and a photocopy of my passport in order to open the account. I had asked for the letter of introduction a while back, but the person responsible for this was on vacation, so I had to wait until his return, which was fine by me. I finally reached Mr. Z., and he very kindly informed me that I should contact Ms Y on the matter, so I grinned (I try to smile when my teeth are showing) and went off to contact Ms Y, who, of course, was not in her office. I also discovered that our representatives prefer it if you make appointments to see them, so I made an appointment for the next day. I dutifully showed up, and Ms Y very kindly told me to contact Ms X, the lady who had first directed me to Mr. Z. At this point, although still showing my teeth in what I hoped was a smile, I explained that I was being passed around rather nicely, but that this didn’t help in terms of getting the necessary letter. Ah, said Ms Y, why don’t you write a draft and drop it in, and we’ll set it up properly. I was a bit miffed, to put it mildly, since I can’t imagine that I’m the first person for whom the High Commission has had to do this, but I did as told, and produced a draft. Two days later, I received a call, saying that the letter was ready, and could I come and get it. So, I did…
That was step 1.
Now, for step 2.
I had to get my lease. Although I had a receipt showing that I had paid rent, this did not constitute a lease, and I had been promised the said lease (see previous entry of blog). So I called my contact, Roger, to ask if he had the lease, since I really needed it. You have to understand also that the bank with which I wanted to do business has its offices in the same building as the High Commission, and I didn’t want to rush around too much if it could be helped. Alas and alack, the owner of the property was still in Europe, so the lease couldn’t be signed until his return on the following Saturday (i.e. December 1). As you can imagine, this didn’t sit well with me, but what can one do? So, I went to the bank anyway, and saw a different person. I explained that I wanted to open a bank account, and she smiled and said “Sure.” Holding my breath, I started signing a number of forms, ensuring that the signature was exactly the same on each document, each in duplicate. I provided the two pictures, I provided the passport to be photocopied, I provided the letter of introduction and I provided a copy of my letter of employment (this is because you need to have a verifiable income before you can open an account!). Forms filled, the kind lady proceeded to do things at the computer, checked all her files, and said “Ah, we need to know where you live… can you draw a map of where it is?” Of course, I said, and did so, holding my breath and waiting to be asked for a copy of the lease. Lo and behold, the question wasn’t asked, and, after about 90 minutes, I left the bank with an account. Ho, ho… Obviously, each person at the bank decides what documents are needed! Anyway, it was a great relief!
Having got that matter sorted out, it was now time to worry about furnishing the apartment. You have to understand, of course, that while all this was taking place, I was also expected to do some work, so it took quite a bit of juggling. Basically, one has to accept that one can only accomplish one thing a day (e.g., get a letter, open an account, etc), as it takes a lot of time – one has to wait… and wait … and wait. However, it all works out.
Furnishings are provided by the project, a nice little benefit, I must confess. In this case, my predecessor had left his household of furniture, and the High Commission had stored it on behalf of CIDA. Wednesday (November 28) was the day of the bank, and on Thursday, I was taken to “visit” the furniture, stored in a container at a mover’s place. The object of the visit was to make sure that I would be recognized when the time came to remove the furniture to my new abode. It was agreed that Monday morning would be a good day to do this (oh, hum… one must be patient). Of course, in order to get the furniture, I needed a letter (agh!) of authorization from the High Commission, and I was asked to drop in on the Monday morning, at 8:30, to pick it up. So much for my hopes of moving in quickly… ah, well.
Monday morning came, and to my great surprise, all went smoothly – unbelievable. I was sure it would take all day, but no! Not only was the letter ready and waiting for me, but the movers were on hand, with a truck, and, after signing a few documents, the workers proceeded to remove the furniture from the container into the truck. Fortunately, I had figured out beforehand that there would be too much furniture for the apartment, since I knew that my predecessor had rented a house (which will happen in our case also, but at a later date), so I had made arrangements at my office to have a bit space freed up to store the excess furniture. And the workers removed furniture, they removed furniture, they removed furniture (as well as some boxes). I couldn’t get over how much there was… From one of the documents, I gathered that my predecessor had rented a four-bedroom house, with two living-rooms and a study…
Off we went – truck following my taxi, taxi ably driven by Njikam, and within an hour, the furniture had been off-loaded at the Centre, and the truck returned whence it came. Only 11 o’clock! I had meetings in the afternoon, so unfortunately, didn’t witness the next step, which consisted in moving the furniture that I’d chosen to the apartment around the corner. I gather that one piece of furniture (a huge three-sectional china cabinet, of which I wanted to use one section only) couldn’t fit up the stairwell (the apartment is on the second floor), so a system of pulleys and men dragged it through the neighbour’s courtyard in order to gain access to my balcony, and heaved the said cabinet up that way!
The next couple of days were spent sprucing up the place. Fortunately, as I didn’t have time to do this myself, Judith, our new housekeeper (recommended by another Canadian who had worked with her for a couple of years), arrived and promptly took over. Of course, there was nothing with which to clean, so the first duty was to rush around getting mops, buckets, soap, etc, as well as stuff for the kitchen (pots, pans, plates, cutlery, etc., etc.). Judith had raised her eyebrows at the size of the apartment (“Quite small, isn’t it?”) and was a bit nonplussed by it – I think she felt that she had come down in the world. I explained that this was temporary only, until I found a house that would suit my wife (hem, hem) who would be joining me in a few months. Judith marched me off to various supermarkets to purchase the necessary items – I asked if we shouldn’t buy what we needed in the local shops, since I’m a firm believer in helping the neighbourhood shops, but it was not to be. Judith announced that quality could only be found in the supermarkets, and that’s where we were going – plus, it wouldn’t take as long. Ah, well… and I had hoped to engage in bargaining…
Still, I really can’t complain! Judith comes highly recommended, and has done an impressive amount of work in getting the place set up, cleaned, furniture polished, etc. I have to find a small shelf and a table for the kitchen, as there is no storage space, but that will be done this week – simply a case of ordering it made at the Centre by the students in the Woodworking section. I’m sure that these items will mollify Judith. I did repeat that I didn’t want to spend too much on the apartment, since I’d be moving at some point… I think she found it difficult to accept that I didn’t buy a full set of matching dishware, company utensils, daily utensils, etc, etc. I suspect that I’m not as high class as she hoped I’d be…
So, on December 9, I was finally ensconced in the apartment. The suitcases are empty and stored away. The previous day was spent getting final items, haring around town with Njikam. Such a helpful person – he said that it was a problem being with me, so dropped me off at the hotel, while he went and purchased various items for which he could negotiate a better price without my presence. He came back three hours later with all that was needed, and we off-loaded here. We also had to find a fridge repairman, as the fridge wasn’t working – not surprising, after nearly two years in storage, but it was simply a case of refilling it with whatever gas it requires.
The fridge wasn’t the only thing that needed repairing, and it took a couple of days to find someone to fix the stove. One of the rings wasn’t working, and there was a smell of gas around the kitchen – not a good sign! Anyway, that was finally repaired, and other than still needing to get a few things for the kitchen, I’m pretty well set up.
Last week, that is, my first week in the apartment, was quite busy, since the various repairmen were around almost all the time (the fridge required three visits, in the final analysis, but is now working well.). The water heater, newly installed, went on the fritz, and we had to change the switch (an old one had been installed), and then, there were the improvements in the yard (all paved) to increase security.
There is a lot of talk about insecurity in Cameroon, and expatriates are advised to have strong and working security systems in place, and not to go out at night, etc. Not that I plan on going out at night, since I don’t have a vehicle. The security system has been installed, and consists of two guards (do I dare call them sentries?), one for the day and one for the night. Roger, my helpful colleague, found both of them for me. The day guard, named Daréou, lives around the corner and is an affable chap – perhaps too affable! – and quite handy, as he was a mason by trade. He speaks French poorly, so I have a lot of difficulty communicating with him, but we get along all right. There’s not much for him to do, but he seems to survive!
The night guard, Aurel, is a short, powerhouse of a man, well-versed in martial arts, who interviewed me at length before accepting to work for me. Most amusing to be interviewed. Anyway, he comes highly recommended (he has worked for other Canadian projects), and told me what his minimum conditions were in order to accept the job. Other than salary, he wanted more lights installed around the yard (now done), a comfortable chair (reasonable request), more padlocks for the various gates (done), the spot under the stairs where he would take up his vigil needed to be cemented, as it was only dirt (done by Daréou), a radio (purchased), a socket so the radio could be plugged in (done), an electric kettle so that he could boil up water for his three mugs of coffee a night (purchased), the edges of the gates covered by a sheet of tin, so that people can’t peek in and see if he’s there. I considered the latter a peculiar request, although I can see his logic; still, as I said to him, I don’t want to spend too much money on security here, since I’ll just have to start all over again in a few months. Then, of course, other than all these little items (which required my presence to supervise the works and oodles of money to carry out), he also needed the tools of his trade including, a sweater for the cold nights, a thick coat for the colder nights, a tuque and a hat, a flashlight, a club, a machete, and a bow with a couple of arrows. Positively medieval! He has also mentioned at a bird-gun (I assume he means a little shotgun with some type of pellet bullet), at which point I said no. He’s also hoping that I’ll buy him a small TV so he can watch movies while keeping watch; I pointed out that if he were watching movies, he wouldn’t be watching the yard, but I don’t think I persuaded him that my logic held. He’s quite insistent on the TV, as he says the next couple of weeks (Christmas time) is the most insecure time of the year, as people come rolling home at all hours of the night, and all these young hoodlums will be looking for houses to break into. His reasoning is that the noise coming from a TV set will put them off; I asked if the radio wouldn’t do the same thing, but all I got was a pitying look. Hum… I tried to explain to him that I didn’t have a TV at home, and didn’t want to have one around, but I think that that was beyond his understanding. Hee, hee…
Aurel, along with Judith and Roger (not to mention Njikam), are looking for new accommodations for me – I think that they feel that I’m letting the side down by not living in the proper manner. I keep on pointing out to them that I’m here alone for the moment and don’t need more space, but that’s a message that isn’t getting through! Ah well…
All this to say that I’m having a great time and have settled in nicely. The office is just around the corner, so I can come home at lunch and check up on things, and days will no doubt become routine starting this week. Speaking of routines, the morning one is most amusing!
There are two bathrooms in the apartment, one of which is en suite to my bedroom and it’s not very large. You have to understand that the water heater is located in this bathroom, to the right of the toilet, and a bit up the wall. However, when rising from the toilet, one has to shift one’s head slightly to the left, for fear of hitting the heater – and, perhaps, knocking the latter off the wall. There is no bath, but there is a shower head, jutting out of the wall to the left of the toilet. There is no shower curtain, and the shower head aims directly at the toilet seat. So, for the morning shower, first one has to remove everything from the bathroom that could get wet (towels, toilet paper, etc), then one has a shower, quickly, in order to be able to turn off the shower to grab the squeegee on a long handle in order to sweep the water to the drain hole (located under the shower head). Unfortunately, you see, the floor slopes away from the drain, and, as I discovered on the first morning, the water flows nicely into the bedroom. It makes for a very lively beginning in the morning, much better than jogging, I’m sure, although what do I know about jogging?
So far, there have not been many power cuts, but I’m told that they become more frequent during the rainy season, because of thunderstorms. As a consequence, I have stocked up on candles and will probably invest in a couple of gas lamps too. Water shortages are frequent during the dry season, which has just started, and I’m told that I need to invest in a couple of barrels so that I can store water for those occasions. Given the amount of rain that falls in this part of the country, I’m quite surprised that there are water shortages, but such is the case. I’m just hoping that there will be no major cuts (some can last as long as a week, I’ve been told) before January, since, with the approach of Christmas, shopping is becoming a bit difficult – the streets are full of vendors and customers, and shops are experiencing shortages of certain things, including water barrels! As nothing much will get done between December 21 and January 2, I shall have to be patient.
Christmas is fast approaching and Yaoundé is gearing up for the festivities. It’s rather incongruous hearing “Frosty, the Snowman”, bellowing over speakers downtown (and in all the shops), not to mention inflatable (very white!) Santa Clauses in most of the supermarkets. I shall no doubt decorate the apartment a little bit in time for the festive season.
That just about sums it up, my friends, for the moment. Not exciting news, perhaps, and not so many amusing incidents (but then, one gets used to them, so they become normal!), but all is going well, and I’m enjoying myself immensely. Work has had to be placed a bit on the back burner over the last few days, but next week should be more “normal”, although there are still a few little formalities to go through – getting my residence permit, and, no doubt, a few more things to make life a bit easier in the apartment, without going too wild! I’ve found two libraries, which provide me with reading matter. The big question is whether I’ll be able to find a turkey for Christmas…other than me, of course!
I don’t have an Internet connection at the apartment, though this will come. Already, a technician from the provider has been around to see what type of set-up is needed, and I’m waiting for the estimate to install it – no doubt another series of amusing incidents to come – but probably not until after Christmas, since the whole city shuts down for about ten days, including my office. This means that I will not have Internet access between December 21 and January 2, unless I decide to be brave and use the local Internet café. But can forced relaxation be so bad?
I’ve been kept informed about the weather in Canada, and you may be sure that I don’t miss it!
Cheers!
David
Greetings, all!
Sorry to have taken so long to add to this blog – it has been a very busy three weeks, and, to be honest, the writing spirit didn’t really strike. And, I must say, I’m enjoying relaxing evenings!
Well, the bank account was finally set up, nearly three weeks ago! You’ll remember that I needed a letter of introduction from the High Commission, a lease, two photographs and a photocopy of my passport in order to open the account. I had asked for the letter of introduction a while back, but the person responsible for this was on vacation, so I had to wait until his return, which was fine by me. I finally reached Mr. Z., and he very kindly informed me that I should contact Ms Y on the matter, so I grinned (I try to smile when my teeth are showing) and went off to contact Ms Y, who, of course, was not in her office. I also discovered that our representatives prefer it if you make appointments to see them, so I made an appointment for the next day. I dutifully showed up, and Ms Y very kindly told me to contact Ms X, the lady who had first directed me to Mr. Z. At this point, although still showing my teeth in what I hoped was a smile, I explained that I was being passed around rather nicely, but that this didn’t help in terms of getting the necessary letter. Ah, said Ms Y, why don’t you write a draft and drop it in, and we’ll set it up properly. I was a bit miffed, to put it mildly, since I can’t imagine that I’m the first person for whom the High Commission has had to do this, but I did as told, and produced a draft. Two days later, I received a call, saying that the letter was ready, and could I come and get it. So, I did…
That was step 1.
Now, for step 2.
I had to get my lease. Although I had a receipt showing that I had paid rent, this did not constitute a lease, and I had been promised the said lease (see previous entry of blog). So I called my contact, Roger, to ask if he had the lease, since I really needed it. You have to understand also that the bank with which I wanted to do business has its offices in the same building as the High Commission, and I didn’t want to rush around too much if it could be helped. Alas and alack, the owner of the property was still in Europe, so the lease couldn’t be signed until his return on the following Saturday (i.e. December 1). As you can imagine, this didn’t sit well with me, but what can one do? So, I went to the bank anyway, and saw a different person. I explained that I wanted to open a bank account, and she smiled and said “Sure.” Holding my breath, I started signing a number of forms, ensuring that the signature was exactly the same on each document, each in duplicate. I provided the two pictures, I provided the passport to be photocopied, I provided the letter of introduction and I provided a copy of my letter of employment (this is because you need to have a verifiable income before you can open an account!). Forms filled, the kind lady proceeded to do things at the computer, checked all her files, and said “Ah, we need to know where you live… can you draw a map of where it is?” Of course, I said, and did so, holding my breath and waiting to be asked for a copy of the lease. Lo and behold, the question wasn’t asked, and, after about 90 minutes, I left the bank with an account. Ho, ho… Obviously, each person at the bank decides what documents are needed! Anyway, it was a great relief!
Having got that matter sorted out, it was now time to worry about furnishing the apartment. You have to understand, of course, that while all this was taking place, I was also expected to do some work, so it took quite a bit of juggling. Basically, one has to accept that one can only accomplish one thing a day (e.g., get a letter, open an account, etc), as it takes a lot of time – one has to wait… and wait … and wait. However, it all works out.
Furnishings are provided by the project, a nice little benefit, I must confess. In this case, my predecessor had left his household of furniture, and the High Commission had stored it on behalf of CIDA. Wednesday (November 28) was the day of the bank, and on Thursday, I was taken to “visit” the furniture, stored in a container at a mover’s place. The object of the visit was to make sure that I would be recognized when the time came to remove the furniture to my new abode. It was agreed that Monday morning would be a good day to do this (oh, hum… one must be patient). Of course, in order to get the furniture, I needed a letter (agh!) of authorization from the High Commission, and I was asked to drop in on the Monday morning, at 8:30, to pick it up. So much for my hopes of moving in quickly… ah, well.
Monday morning came, and to my great surprise, all went smoothly – unbelievable. I was sure it would take all day, but no! Not only was the letter ready and waiting for me, but the movers were on hand, with a truck, and, after signing a few documents, the workers proceeded to remove the furniture from the container into the truck. Fortunately, I had figured out beforehand that there would be too much furniture for the apartment, since I knew that my predecessor had rented a house (which will happen in our case also, but at a later date), so I had made arrangements at my office to have a bit space freed up to store the excess furniture. And the workers removed furniture, they removed furniture, they removed furniture (as well as some boxes). I couldn’t get over how much there was… From one of the documents, I gathered that my predecessor had rented a four-bedroom house, with two living-rooms and a study…
Off we went – truck following my taxi, taxi ably driven by Njikam, and within an hour, the furniture had been off-loaded at the Centre, and the truck returned whence it came. Only 11 o’clock! I had meetings in the afternoon, so unfortunately, didn’t witness the next step, which consisted in moving the furniture that I’d chosen to the apartment around the corner. I gather that one piece of furniture (a huge three-sectional china cabinet, of which I wanted to use one section only) couldn’t fit up the stairwell (the apartment is on the second floor), so a system of pulleys and men dragged it through the neighbour’s courtyard in order to gain access to my balcony, and heaved the said cabinet up that way!
The next couple of days were spent sprucing up the place. Fortunately, as I didn’t have time to do this myself, Judith, our new housekeeper (recommended by another Canadian who had worked with her for a couple of years), arrived and promptly took over. Of course, there was nothing with which to clean, so the first duty was to rush around getting mops, buckets, soap, etc, as well as stuff for the kitchen (pots, pans, plates, cutlery, etc., etc.). Judith had raised her eyebrows at the size of the apartment (“Quite small, isn’t it?”) and was a bit nonplussed by it – I think she felt that she had come down in the world. I explained that this was temporary only, until I found a house that would suit my wife (hem, hem) who would be joining me in a few months. Judith marched me off to various supermarkets to purchase the necessary items – I asked if we shouldn’t buy what we needed in the local shops, since I’m a firm believer in helping the neighbourhood shops, but it was not to be. Judith announced that quality could only be found in the supermarkets, and that’s where we were going – plus, it wouldn’t take as long. Ah, well… and I had hoped to engage in bargaining…
Still, I really can’t complain! Judith comes highly recommended, and has done an impressive amount of work in getting the place set up, cleaned, furniture polished, etc. I have to find a small shelf and a table for the kitchen, as there is no storage space, but that will be done this week – simply a case of ordering it made at the Centre by the students in the Woodworking section. I’m sure that these items will mollify Judith. I did repeat that I didn’t want to spend too much on the apartment, since I’d be moving at some point… I think she found it difficult to accept that I didn’t buy a full set of matching dishware, company utensils, daily utensils, etc, etc. I suspect that I’m not as high class as she hoped I’d be…
So, on December 9, I was finally ensconced in the apartment. The suitcases are empty and stored away. The previous day was spent getting final items, haring around town with Njikam. Such a helpful person – he said that it was a problem being with me, so dropped me off at the hotel, while he went and purchased various items for which he could negotiate a better price without my presence. He came back three hours later with all that was needed, and we off-loaded here. We also had to find a fridge repairman, as the fridge wasn’t working – not surprising, after nearly two years in storage, but it was simply a case of refilling it with whatever gas it requires.
The fridge wasn’t the only thing that needed repairing, and it took a couple of days to find someone to fix the stove. One of the rings wasn’t working, and there was a smell of gas around the kitchen – not a good sign! Anyway, that was finally repaired, and other than still needing to get a few things for the kitchen, I’m pretty well set up.
Last week, that is, my first week in the apartment, was quite busy, since the various repairmen were around almost all the time (the fridge required three visits, in the final analysis, but is now working well.). The water heater, newly installed, went on the fritz, and we had to change the switch (an old one had been installed), and then, there were the improvements in the yard (all paved) to increase security.
There is a lot of talk about insecurity in Cameroon, and expatriates are advised to have strong and working security systems in place, and not to go out at night, etc. Not that I plan on going out at night, since I don’t have a vehicle. The security system has been installed, and consists of two guards (do I dare call them sentries?), one for the day and one for the night. Roger, my helpful colleague, found both of them for me. The day guard, named Daréou, lives around the corner and is an affable chap – perhaps too affable! – and quite handy, as he was a mason by trade. He speaks French poorly, so I have a lot of difficulty communicating with him, but we get along all right. There’s not much for him to do, but he seems to survive!
The night guard, Aurel, is a short, powerhouse of a man, well-versed in martial arts, who interviewed me at length before accepting to work for me. Most amusing to be interviewed. Anyway, he comes highly recommended (he has worked for other Canadian projects), and told me what his minimum conditions were in order to accept the job. Other than salary, he wanted more lights installed around the yard (now done), a comfortable chair (reasonable request), more padlocks for the various gates (done), the spot under the stairs where he would take up his vigil needed to be cemented, as it was only dirt (done by Daréou), a radio (purchased), a socket so the radio could be plugged in (done), an electric kettle so that he could boil up water for his three mugs of coffee a night (purchased), the edges of the gates covered by a sheet of tin, so that people can’t peek in and see if he’s there. I considered the latter a peculiar request, although I can see his logic; still, as I said to him, I don’t want to spend too much money on security here, since I’ll just have to start all over again in a few months. Then, of course, other than all these little items (which required my presence to supervise the works and oodles of money to carry out), he also needed the tools of his trade including, a sweater for the cold nights, a thick coat for the colder nights, a tuque and a hat, a flashlight, a club, a machete, and a bow with a couple of arrows. Positively medieval! He has also mentioned at a bird-gun (I assume he means a little shotgun with some type of pellet bullet), at which point I said no. He’s also hoping that I’ll buy him a small TV so he can watch movies while keeping watch; I pointed out that if he were watching movies, he wouldn’t be watching the yard, but I don’t think I persuaded him that my logic held. He’s quite insistent on the TV, as he says the next couple of weeks (Christmas time) is the most insecure time of the year, as people come rolling home at all hours of the night, and all these young hoodlums will be looking for houses to break into. His reasoning is that the noise coming from a TV set will put them off; I asked if the radio wouldn’t do the same thing, but all I got was a pitying look. Hum… I tried to explain to him that I didn’t have a TV at home, and didn’t want to have one around, but I think that that was beyond his understanding. Hee, hee…
Aurel, along with Judith and Roger (not to mention Njikam), are looking for new accommodations for me – I think that they feel that I’m letting the side down by not living in the proper manner. I keep on pointing out to them that I’m here alone for the moment and don’t need more space, but that’s a message that isn’t getting through! Ah well…
All this to say that I’m having a great time and have settled in nicely. The office is just around the corner, so I can come home at lunch and check up on things, and days will no doubt become routine starting this week. Speaking of routines, the morning one is most amusing!
There are two bathrooms in the apartment, one of which is en suite to my bedroom and it’s not very large. You have to understand that the water heater is located in this bathroom, to the right of the toilet, and a bit up the wall. However, when rising from the toilet, one has to shift one’s head slightly to the left, for fear of hitting the heater – and, perhaps, knocking the latter off the wall. There is no bath, but there is a shower head, jutting out of the wall to the left of the toilet. There is no shower curtain, and the shower head aims directly at the toilet seat. So, for the morning shower, first one has to remove everything from the bathroom that could get wet (towels, toilet paper, etc), then one has a shower, quickly, in order to be able to turn off the shower to grab the squeegee on a long handle in order to sweep the water to the drain hole (located under the shower head). Unfortunately, you see, the floor slopes away from the drain, and, as I discovered on the first morning, the water flows nicely into the bedroom. It makes for a very lively beginning in the morning, much better than jogging, I’m sure, although what do I know about jogging?
So far, there have not been many power cuts, but I’m told that they become more frequent during the rainy season, because of thunderstorms. As a consequence, I have stocked up on candles and will probably invest in a couple of gas lamps too. Water shortages are frequent during the dry season, which has just started, and I’m told that I need to invest in a couple of barrels so that I can store water for those occasions. Given the amount of rain that falls in this part of the country, I’m quite surprised that there are water shortages, but such is the case. I’m just hoping that there will be no major cuts (some can last as long as a week, I’ve been told) before January, since, with the approach of Christmas, shopping is becoming a bit difficult – the streets are full of vendors and customers, and shops are experiencing shortages of certain things, including water barrels! As nothing much will get done between December 21 and January 2, I shall have to be patient.
Christmas is fast approaching and Yaoundé is gearing up for the festivities. It’s rather incongruous hearing “Frosty, the Snowman”, bellowing over speakers downtown (and in all the shops), not to mention inflatable (very white!) Santa Clauses in most of the supermarkets. I shall no doubt decorate the apartment a little bit in time for the festive season.
That just about sums it up, my friends, for the moment. Not exciting news, perhaps, and not so many amusing incidents (but then, one gets used to them, so they become normal!), but all is going well, and I’m enjoying myself immensely. Work has had to be placed a bit on the back burner over the last few days, but next week should be more “normal”, although there are still a few little formalities to go through – getting my residence permit, and, no doubt, a few more things to make life a bit easier in the apartment, without going too wild! I’ve found two libraries, which provide me with reading matter. The big question is whether I’ll be able to find a turkey for Christmas…other than me, of course!
I don’t have an Internet connection at the apartment, though this will come. Already, a technician from the provider has been around to see what type of set-up is needed, and I’m waiting for the estimate to install it – no doubt another series of amusing incidents to come – but probably not until after Christmas, since the whole city shuts down for about ten days, including my office. This means that I will not have Internet access between December 21 and January 2, unless I decide to be brave and use the local Internet café. But can forced relaxation be so bad?
I’ve been kept informed about the weather in Canada, and you may be sure that I don’t miss it!
Cheers!
David
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