We started the week on Tuesday with Big Etam, Small Etam, Ebonji and Teke. At our first stop we were left waiting at the Chief’s palace long enough to try out some new hairstyles on Nyango (apparently we were on white man time and they were on black man time) and down some delicious Cameroon biscuits (called “Allo Tommy”s). From there we walked to Small Etam in the midday heat being sure not to show too much strain for fear of living up to the stereotypes of the white man’s incapacity for physical activity and distracting ourselves along the way by buying delicious fruit along the way that tasted like sour cherries but were the size of plums. We have yet to figure out just how hot is in terms of Celsius or Fahrenheit, instead we use our own scale which ranges from not sweating too much to swampy to having to reapply bug spray on an hourly basis as it melts off our bodies.
In Small Etam we had one of our first tastes of success by getting what felt like honest information from the councilors. In some cases, if there is corruption, our survey questions require a bit of self-condemning information from the them the very least sensitive information in the eyes of a very in-group society where making outsiders privy to community disputes is considered very taboo. There is much to be said about the joy of someone giving honest information no matter what the content.
The chief in this village was especially kind to us and drove us through to our next two villages giving us an unexpected lesson in the perks of power along the way - traveling with a chief comes in handy at roadblocks (no stopping, no hassle, no bribes, just a honk on the way by) This man also offered us the best bananas any of us have ever encountered. They even managed to convert two devout non-banana-eaters to fans.
Our next stop was a little less successful we got all the answers you would expect to hear from either a perfect council or a perfectly corrupt one where everything is fine, there are no problems and everyone is happy as a clam. It can be frustrating but we are strained to assist those who need our help, so there is not much we can do for those who do not want it.
Our last stop that day felt a little like we had walked into a teaching tool for a development class called ‘what to expect in the field.’ From the reception, to the discussion and photo shoot, to the food, we hit all the clichés of foreigners working in rural Africa.
Our first destination on Friday was in Kombone Native where we met with the traditional council of the village and were treated to some especially tasty pepe paste wrapped in a particularly industrious leaf with cashew nuts (see pic). It was definitely our favorite village present to date, each of us going willingly for seconds. The Chief’s compound had one of the only cultivated gardens we have seen here. Inquiries about the various plants and Ebony’s penchant for disappearing to have cups of palm wine in the villages combined with a professorial chief resulted in a fascinating botany lesson. Are you ready for this? Are you sitting down? There was even a pine tree, albeit a small oddly shaped one., but it still smelled like Christmas. The council expressed a lot of interest in getting more dispute resolution training for the councilors and assured us that the next time we visited it would be only for the cashews and pepe paste (no complaints here).
A huge challenge we face is trying to visit so many communities in so short a time and only getting a few hours to try and learn about the village’s council system. As much as we tease Ebony for his palm wine ‘research’ (as he calls it), the time that we get to sit and visit with the councils once our surveys are finished allows us to establish a bit of a relationship with them and definitely yields some of the best stories.
Our next stop was at Kwa Kwa which is further away from town and who faced many challenges in terms of banditry. The councilors here were really interested in the project and incredibly frank about problems with corruption that they were facing. Following our official work we spent a hilarious hour in which the councilors attempted to understand / explain the meaning of our African names.
Saturday we headed off to cover another three villages and the day just about killed us. We went to Mukonji, Bakossi Camp and ended up in Mabenda. Mukonji was a pretty typical visit, although the chief’s palace here was MASSIVE. In fact it was the first place we have seen that even remotely lives up to its name. Either we are starting to get better at administering the surveys or the villages in this region have bigger problems with bribery, but either way the responses we are getting shifted a little this week to include a bit more condemnation of the councils.
After yet another long walk in the midday sun we arrived at Bakossi camp which is essentially a workers camp in a rubber plantation owned by the Cameroon Development Corporation (CDC), incidentally the second largest employer in Cameroon (after the government). This meant that the council operated a bit differently as it was part of the business structure and not necessarily the traditional local government based on tribe or neighborhood. Having said that, I think we all left a little confused as the English was particularly weak (pidgin is dominant in many of the rural areas) and Alexa ended up not only interviewing two people at once but physically acting out a few of the questions.Our last stop of the week (thankfully) was Mabenda where upon arrival we were offered kola nuts and palm wine (not a tasty combination) and then almost immediately taken to a ‘bar’ for drinks. They assured us that we could carry our surveys out at the bar, which was really plastic chairs in a circle under a tree and a few low benches as tables. Alexa had the honour of interviewing the Govna’ who turned out to be an experience in and of himself. Casey experienced first hand the fear that councilors have sharing honest yet sensitive information. Her interview began well, however, as more people arrived and started to interrupt and or listen to his answers the gentleman completely froze up. Those are often the most frustrating interviews because we know there is information there that would be valuable but simply can’t get at it.
We finished up pretty drained and in serious need of some time off, weeks like this really take it out of us and the prospect of Sunday at the lake is almost the only thing that keeps us sane. When we go to the villages our novelty as white women is made abundantly apparent. Sometimes we aren’t sure if the councilors listen and talk to us because they think it will butter us up for the marriage proposals that inevitably follow the end of the meetings, or if they really are genuinely interested in the project we are presenting (on a pessimistic day I usually believe the former). We spent Sunday recuperating at the lake, followed by an incredible burger at our friend’s restaurant Classy Burger, and are now (somewhat) ready to start all over again.
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