From South Africa to Cameroon

Saturday November 29^th, my alarm woke me up at 4:30am. I was in a backpackers in Johannesburg. After not even three hours of sleep, I really didn’t want to get out of bed. But knowing that a new exiting travelling full of adventures is waiting for me, I quickly shut off the alarm, took my packed backpack with all stuff necessary to survive three months in Africa and silently quit the room where my friends from Stellenbosch (that we joined only the previous evening, at least we had time for farewell party in Jo’burg) were still sleeping. Mouna, half-asleep, wished me happy journey before falling asleep again. That’s when our journey went in two different ways.

A taxi was already waiting for me outside. The driver was a cool guy, we discussed a lot on the way to the airport.

I was already in the departure hall when I realized I don’t have a phone! No, I forgot it in the car. I ran outside but the taxi had already left of course. So the activity while waiting for the boarding was clear – to buy a new phone (my 4^th phone in South Africa). Regarding my phone consumption here, I chose the cheapest option. And I found such a phone very useful later in Cameroon where I had only rarely access to electricity. A phone which remains charged forever and has a torch light is much more useful there than an Iphone ;)

I spent a day on the plane. The flight was without problem, I spent one hour in Kigali where I could admire beautiful landscape of Rwanda while landing, and I landed safely in Douala at 6:30pm. As I left the plane, I could immediately feel that sticky weather. It was really hot even though it was already dark. I went through the vaccination control, passport control, got a stamp into my passport. Now, just get my luggage and quickly to the bus station!

But… wait. “C’est fini!” I heart airport staff saying. What? What is finished? I am asking together with other at least twenty passengers still waiting for their luggage. Luggages of all people travelling from Johannesburg via Kigali had been left in Kigali.

So I had to wait for a document about a delayed luggage. The problem was that I was supposed to take a bus in the evening and before me there were other twenty angry people waiting for the same document. I became to be nervous… “I really need to catch that bus!” I thought. Finally after an hour I got what I needed, quickly withdraw some CFA francs (=money) and fetched up a taxi that would drive me to the bus station Amour Mezam.

“It’s 45min drive,” told me the driver. We drove a while when got stuck in traffic jams. “Is it normal?” I asked the driver to know if these are considered in those 45minutes. “Yes but usually they are not already here but only further in the city,” he replied. I began to be more nervous again. Will I be on time for the bus? “Don’t worry, all buses to Bamenda leave after eleven,” the driver ensured me.

Finally it took 75min to get to the bus station. It was 9:15pm, the bus was still there! I felt a big relief.

But it would be too easy (and I would not write such a detailed article about it) if I would have just got on the bus at this moment and gone to Bamenda where I was supposed to meet people from Kedjom-Keku NGO which I was going to work for.  

The window where we buy the tickets for the bus was closed. People waiting for the departure of the bus were sitting just next to it so I asked where I can get the ticket. One kind man told me he would go and look for the man who was selling them. However that person said there was no seat available in the bus anymore. All tickets had been sold out. “Are you sure you wouldn’t find any? I can even sit on the ground!” I tried to convince the guy. But his answer remained the same. No, no place available. (Which, after having seen that Cameroonians always find place for everybody even in a small car where you wouldn’t expect somebody still can squeeze in, does not sound very convincingly now to me).

Tired after the flight and previous night when I did not sleep much, being without my backpack and now with a vision of night which I would have to spend alone in the streets of Douala, I began to be little bit desperate.  

Luckily there was still that kind man who saved me. “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal, go with Vatican!” (except that he was speaking in French; luckily I do speak French). “Vatican?” I didn’t understand. That gentleman explained me that it was another bus company. However, in Cameroon, they do not have one bus station where would operate several companies. No, every company has its own bus station. So I had to go to another place. “Are you sure they still have a place available?” I asked with some doubts. The reply was positive and I didn’t have a choice anyway so I decided to try it there. The gentleman caught a moto-taxi for me and indicated to the driver where he should drop me off. So I climbed on the bike between the driver and one another passenger (at least without the big backpack it was easier to move to another place quickly) and the motorbike took me to Vatican bus station while slaloming between cars in streets of night Douala.

He dropped me off at the bus station and I found out quickly where to buy my ticket. They really still had few places available! I felt a big relieve. Ok, now, everything is going to be fine. I had the seat just behind the driver between two little bit robust persons so I tried to fit between them. I was sitting a bit askew so it was not very comfortable but I didn’t mind, I was happy to be finally on the bus to Bamenda.

The bus left the station about twenty minutes later.

I was sitting next to a driver if this bus company (who was not driving at that moment however, he was only taking the bus as a transport to get home that time). We were discussing little bit and he was complaining about the bad condition of Cameroonian roads. Indeed, they are full of potholes, even in Douala, the biggest city. And so I was heading towards Bamenda throughout the night, bumping on my seat, a robust lady sleeping on my shoulder.

We stopped once to have a break. Immediately, lot of sellers came to us, offering lot of different food. It was dark and I could not identify any of these. Some fruits and then lot of different things wrapped in banana leaves. I discovered most of these later on during my stay in Cameroon (more about it another time).

We arrived to Bamenda in the morning just after the sunrise. People from Kedjom-Keku NGO were supposed to wait for me at Amour-Mezam bus station, not the Vatican one and I was not sure if the sms I was trying to send about this change had been successfully delivered. So I asked the driver if we were passing around the other bus station to drop me off there. It was not on the way but he stopped me and caught a taxi for me which took me to the right station (I love Cameroonian people, as you can see, my experience was really great – I always found somebody to help me).

Taxis in Cameroon work like kind of public transport – they are everywhere, cheap and accessible. You just catch one, ask if he can take you where you need, get sure you agree about the price and you can go.

We stopped several time before to get to the bus station and more people got on until the taxi was full, me sitting on the gear. And I realized it’s completely normal in Cameroon: cars we in Europe,  US or even South Africa consider as being for five persons are seven-seated in Cameroon: Four in the back, three in the front. And there’s enough space for everybody. It’s even possible to fit eight or more persons – it occurred to me few times I was sitting on the driver’s seat WITH the driver, me just like a passenger sitting between the driver and the gear.  Cameroonians indeed can use every single space even where Europeans would swear it is impossible to fill another person/luggage yet. (Once, we were five people on a taxi-moto: four passengers and a driver).

When I got to the bus station, it was still early (6am) and I had to wait a while for the Kedjom-Keku NGO team to come to catch me up. So I was observing the early morning life in Bamenda which was actually quite busy already, merchant setting their stands in the market.

Eventually I met Zdeněk, Zuzka, Martin and Jane; the Kedjom-Keku NGO team. I forgot about all complications I encountered on the way there: everything was alright now and I am even happy about my experience now – at least I have what to tell you now ;) (And it was not such a big deal after all).

I told them about my lost luggage. They ensured me they would find somebody who can pick it up at the airport when it arrives and send it to Bamenda by bus. Meanwhile, they would borrow me some clothes and other things I needed. However, I couldn’t go up to the mountain without a sleeping bag as it’s really cold at night there. So we made use of the network of their great friends in Bamenda and Kenneth was so nice and he borrowed me his sleeping bag for a while I needed.

Then, we just did some grocery shopping in the market and it was time to get to the school! (Kedjom-Keku NGO actually runs a school for the children of local farmers in a remote rural area in the mountains and to educate them about the importance of forest – which they try to save. I will probably write more about it in another article but meanwhile, check its website to know more about this great project!)

We arrived by taxi to the Dor Market from where you can get to the school only by walking or by taxi-moto. No car. We decided to walk. We sent one moto with the shopping and we began our two-hour walk up to the school – Mountain Misty School. (Usually it took us rather 1,5h but this time we stopped at several neighbours to introduce me so it took longer).

And so finally I arrived to the final destination: Mountain Misty School in the middle of beautiful Bamenda Highlands in the North-West Cameroon.

To be continued!

One week in Gauteng

Monday, November 24^th (Day 15)

I had less than one week to spend in Gauteng before to leave to Cameroon. Gauteng (attention, read it like [chauteng] – phonetic transcription for Czech people, for others… well, in Spanish it’s like [jauteng] ;) ), for those who have never heard this name, is a South African province which is the smallest one in terms of area but the most populated one. It is highly urbanized: it contains both the South African capital Pretoria and the largest South African city Johannesburg.

Our first stop was in Pretoria where we immediately visited the neighbourhood where all embassies were situated: actually it’s also what is the most characteristic for Pretoria, the administrative capital. We visited the Cameroonian embassy where I applied for the visa that was supposed to be issued three days later.

We still had few hours to spend in this city before to move just few kilometres next to it to Johannesburg (or Jo’burg as you will hear the most often in the everyday language) so we decided to explore the city centre and to have a look on another important element of this city apart embassies: Union Buildings – the seat of the government where we could admire an immense statue of Nelson Mandela.

At the end of the afternoon, we took Gautrain: the train that connects Pretoria with Johannesburg. “Where are we? Are we back in Europe?” was our first reaction. A very modern train which was on time! (Actually it left even one minute earlier so we missed it and had to wait ten minutes for another one) Where is that famous “African time”? Furthermore, it is prohibited to eat and drink at the train station – again very different from the usual train (metrorail) we are used to take from Stellenbosch to Cape Town (which a lot of white people are scared to take even though there’s no reason for it and they prefer to drive by car) where plenty of salesmen walk through the railway cars with huge plastic bags full of chocolates and chips. And of course, the prize of the tickets was also quite European. Thus within 40 minutes we were in the heart of Jo’burg!

At the train station, we met Thulani, our guide for couple of following days, who had been already waiting for us. He is friend of our fried Tony studying in Stellenbosch but who comes from a township Katlehong close to Johannesburg. We were actually staying at our friend’s place but since he was still busy with his exams in Stellenbosch, his friend from the township took the role of our guide.

It was late afternoon and we need to get quickly to the township before it would get dark. So we quickly passed through crowded streets around the station and arrived to the mini-buses station. We were impressed by the vibe of the city. So busy, market full of people going somewhere, noisy, and what’s more, almost no white people to be seen around (here we begin to realize that Western Cape with Cape Town is really not representative picture of South Africa). Finally we feel like being in Africa even in the city and not only on the countryside. The atmosphere was just great. We began to fell in love with this city.

We succeeded to fit our huge backpacks on our knees in the minibus so as it did not occupy more seats – we would have to pay for two places otherwise – and we were heading, with the sounds of thunders signalizing approaching storm, in this crowded vehicle to Katlehong.

Just a short paragraph about the system of minibuses: there are two fares: one local, another one if you go further. Everybody thus know how much he is supposed to pay and forwards his and his neighbours coins to the driver or a person sitting next to the driver who organizes finances. All this finance staff is happening while driving already – at least, we don’t lose the time. Drivers here are pretty multitask: driving, talking, calculating… and managing to fit the bus in a very narrow space between two other cars to overtake them and go as fast as possible even through the traffic jam.. There are no obstacles for them.

In the township, Thulani led us directly to the house where we were going to stay: a decent house with nice interior. Lot of people imagine shacks and places with very poor sanitation when hear about townships. Indeed, it exists in townships but it’s not only about it. Townships are places where a non-white population lives (legacy of Apartheid and its policy of spatial segregation). And there are also some very nice houses as also black middle class may live there. Actually there are huge inequalities also within the township.

We met Tony’s mother and sister who welcomed us very friendly. In the street, children were playing soccer. Thulani showed township to us and introduced to his friends. Everybody was so friendly! We loved the atmosphere of the township and paradoxically, we realized we even felt safer there than in the city.

We tasted a locally brewed beer called Jo’burg. A bit unusual but quite tasty! They drink it mainly during some festivities. Then, for dinner, we tasted another local speciality: bunny chow, also called a kota. It’s kind of sandwich with chips. For R12 (not even 1€), you get three slices of bread (the white toast bread) filled with chips and different fillings such as cheese veggies, ham, … and of course some chilli which cannot miss (they love spicy). Quite difficult to eat, not very healthy but we enjoyed it ;)

Quite a long day, time to go to bed now! Wait, bed? After many nights of camping, sleeping in our broken tent and on the floor of student residence, the real bed. And very comfortable one!

Tuesday, November 25^th (Day 16)

With Thulani, we visited house of three sisters and one brother. Again, they were very welcoming and friendly. We had an interesting discussion about marriage with them. Lobola (traditionally, a groom has to give a certain number of cattle to the bride’s family, nowadays in the cities, they usually transfer the value of the cattle into money) and all different habits and traditions, importance of parent’s consent and so on. And it was quite difficult for some of them to understand some liberal opinion that one might not want to get married at all.

Then, we continued to Thulani’s grandmother where we also met his cousin who loved to talk. Thus, we learned a lot about the history of Katlehong, about the relation of Katlehong with Soweto, about the meaning of names (in most of African cultures, names have a clear meaning).

Wednesday, November 26^th (Day 17)

In the morning, we visited the Magistrate Court in Palm Ridge where Tony’s aunt worked. We had to wait long time because she was busy with a complicated case (a rape case that was closed to public). But eventually she took us to see part of another case and she answered lot of our questions we had about the criminality in the area.

After this, time to discover Jo’burg. Well, just a small part of it of course, we had just an afternoon for it. We had a lunch in Newtown where we also saw some street art before to go to SAB museum. SAB are South African Breweries. The exhibition itself was pretty much focused on “exciting effects” that looked rather like a publicity than a museum. However, some information were quite interesting. And the end was great! You get a small beer in the glass you can keep and at the very end, there is a bar, where you can use your two vouchers you got with the ticket. Actually, it looks like the price of the ticket pays just this beer consumption.

Then, we went to the “Top of Africa” – the tower of the Carlton shopping centre. We took the elevator to the 50^th floor and enjoyed the awesome view over the entire Joburg!

Then, it was time to get back to Katlehong as it was getting late and thunderstorm was coming (again).

Two great days in Katlehong (and little bit of Joburg), shame I couldn’t stay longer. I will have to get back one day!

Thursday, November 27^th (Day 18)

I needed to get back to Pretoria to pick up my passport with the visa. At the embassy, I felt relieved: great, I got the visa, no problem occurred and now I could leave for Cameroon within two days! But… wait... when I checked the visa, I saw: 30 days. Only 30 days? I applied for 62 days! “We give the tourist visa for 30 days only.” Was told to me. Probably new rules, on the website of the embassy was written up to three months. “So I can stay only 30 days?!” No, you can stay longer, just go to the police at the place of your stay and tell them you are staying longer.” Well.. it seemed too easy but if they said so at the embassy… (more about the story of my visa in another article ;) ) Anyway, at least I could get to Cameroon, I would think about the rest later.

We had a lunch together with our friend Alex (who also had to go to Pretoria again because of the visa issues) in the Pretoria city centre. Just before to leave the restaurant, an Afrikaans “couple” (actually a mother with an adult son) asked us what we would like to see and they recommended us few things that are worth to see. Finally, they told us they would show us something: an abandoned theathre just next door. We entered an ordinary-looking building and we remained speechless. The interior is something that used to be a nice theatre with a stage, today quite dilapidated, and in the middle of all this, there was a parking full of cars! “The son” was studying theatre so he explain us all the history of the place and showed us around.

Then, we visited the Palace of Justice that “the mother” (she was advocate) recommended us to visit. We were walking through its corridors when suddenly we heard from an open office: “Hello, can I help you?” “Ehm, we are just visiting, we didn’t want to disturb you.” “No problem, come in! You can visit! You can have a look in the office of the judge, he is not there now.” Wow, really?

Friday, November 28^th (Day 19)

We spent the night in Pretoria and we had planned to go back to Joburg immediately in the morning to enjoy the city. However, tired after all this travelling (and well, little bit also after the partying from the night before), we were quite slow and eventually didn’t have that much time left to see lot of things. Thus, we decided to stay in Pretoria for a while yet and to visit the Freedom Park, me wearing my big backpack again… (Mouna left hers in Katlehong as she was coming back) … at least another good hike. And it really was worth it as it is a nice place with nice view over Pretoria.

Then we returned to Joburg again. We changed our plans several times about the place we would stay that night. Eventually, we finished by joining three our friends from Stellenbosch in their backpackers: all of us travelled differently and we finished by meeting in that backpackers my last night in South Africa before to leave to Cameroon! So we enjoyed the evening together, a good bye party…

Next time you can read about my journey to Cameroon!