February 16, 2011

February 16, 2011 – Wednesday
--We went to the Ngaoundere train station early for our tickets – and were told we must buy them the day prior to travel. Rats! We ate in a spot at the train station last night and, based on recent experience, we thought we had to wait till morning so we didn’t try for them then.
--So we sputtered, pondered, and found a representative from the local Tourism Office who took us down a VLBDR to see a beautiful lake with attractive conference center facilities under construction.
--Then he took us to see the palace and chambers of the local traditional leader, ie, the Lamido, whose line is traced to the early 1800s. The Lamido and his 50-odd wives and a few hundred children live in quarters behind the area that permits visitors. Respectfully, we left our shoes on the steps and entered a large darkened, cool room. The tour was very interesting – the buildings have thick adobe walls, high ceilings with beautiful woven thatch design work, and the many niches, nooks and images were all described to us in some detail. We had to pass in front of the Lamido who was resting on a porch – we were taught how to bow and speak to him as we passed, and he greeted us courteously in return. Apparently he thought our bare feet hurt on the sand because he had our shoes brought to us with permission to wear them for the rest of the tour.
--This part of Cameroon is predominantly Muslim.
--Thomas has been our driver since we arrived in Ngaoundere a week ago. Today while we were touring the palace, he received a message that his youngest brother had died unexpectedly after he’d taken a good turn following a long illness – Thomas was stunned. Although he’d expected to wait with us till our train left, we encouraged him to leave us and return to his home in Garoua without delay. We gave him our prayers and good wishes, and a gift to help with his expenses in the coming days, and he drove away. Thomas is a very good and kind person, and a good driver. We wish him well and thank him profusely for his many kindnesses and thoughtfulness.
--Back to the train station in hopes that we could get tickets for tonight. Njoke parked us at the food place and left with a guy “who knows all the tricks.” Half an hour later he was back with 2d class tickets for the 3 of us, and he’d put our names on the cancellation list for 1st class seats. At 4 pm he and the guy-who-knows-all-the-tricks went back to the ticket counter – an hour later, 1 hour before scheduled departure time, they were back smiling. Njoke had a 1st class seat and he’d secured 2 tickets for a sleeper for Joe and me! He’d paid someone to allow my bag of gifts to come into our car vs. the luggage room, and he’d pain the guy-who-knows-all-the-tricks, and he’d pulled off a miracle of gigantic proportions! We drank a “33” to our good fortune, and after Njoke gave us instructions to wait for him on the platform with our luggage in the morning, we got on the train - it left about 6:45 pm. We watched the city disappear into the twilight, ate some freshly picked bananas and stale cookies for supper, and went to bed watching the full mood out the train windows. We loved the train’s swaying movements and slept very well despite stops at every town along the way. At each stop women and children with heavy platters of food on their heads crowd up to the windows calling, “baton, baton! (long steamed sticks of ground manioc),” “l’eau, l’eau, l’eau, l’eau, l’eau (water in bottles),” “annana, annana, annana…(fresh pineapple sticks),” “banan, banan, banan…(fresh picked bananas),” “pastiche, pastiche, pastiche…(steamed seasoned pureed pumpkin seeds wrapped in plantain leaves),” etc., etc. They also sell phone cards, maps of Cameroon, portfolios, African print fabrics, peanuts, on and on, amazing.