April 16, 2004

Preface: Today marks the first day in ten that I have not been a) riding in a beat down bush taxi for 5-13 hours or b) hiking miles through the equatorial rainforest avoiding venomous snakes and dodging fruit pits hurled by monkeys from the canopy. Also, I finally smell good.

Spring Break began as so many others: sipping on white Russians in jelly shoes, hair tied back in a Steven Seagal ponytail, sitting in the lounge of a prestigious Yaoundéé hotel known as the Hilton. For years the Peace Corps has held volunteers’ “Close of Service” Conference at the Hilton. Word on the bush taxi is budget cuts will prevent this from happening in the future. I figured this would be my last chance, and so crashed the second year volunteers' party.

But the real adventure was only beginning, as 8 of my best friends from training were converging to take part in the Heart of Darkness East Province Tour 2004. Destination: Lobéké National Park, nearly in the Republic of the Congo. The tour started off with a tremendous thunderstorm, a power outage, and (surprise, surprise) a violent bout of diarrhea. After our fumbling through the dark to pack and my downing a dose of Imodium, we boarded our first bush taxi for Batouri [estimated travel time: 9 hours; actual time: 13 hours]. The delay was principally due to an overturned truck, which blocked (almost) the entire road. The Cameroonian solution to this was to carry wood over from a local field and fill in the ditch on the side of the road, creating a makeshift bridge. This worked until the family who owned the field, and thus the wood, came after us with machetes. To sum up day 1 of the tour, Gene asked, “So the East just basically sucks, doesn’t it?” and Ryan described it as the worst ride of his entire life. Thanks guys. Great friends.

The next day we arrive in Yokadouma after a 7-hour ride (after a 6-hour wait). Yokadouma has always been described as a “Wild West” town, and my skepticism was quashed upon arrival. It really is the Wild West. If I didn’t risk arrest, imprisonment, and deportation, I would have taken a photograph of the post office for you guys. It looks straight out of Shane. Yokadouma even has running water (!), television (!!), and electricity that actually works. Clearly, we’re talking about the Las Vegas of the East Province and I swear I could see the beam of light from the Luxor in the distance. Of course with any newly found paradise, there’s bound to be some tarnish on that shine, and in this case it came in the form of a used condom on the floor of our bathroom. I won’t complain because 1) at least it was tied and 2) at least the guy actually used a condom. Nevertheless, it was utterly disgusting.

Because of our late arrival, we were unable to take care of our business with the Ministry of the Environment and Forestry until the next morning, which meant that we missed the bush taxi to Moloundou and were stuck. So after some shady dealings, we managed to arrive in Mambele, but again too late to take care of business, this time with the World Wrestling Federation ... er, I mean the World Wildlife Fund. So we sat back with cold soda and warm beer (the only fridge in town is owned by a Muslim) and settled into our spider-infested rooms for one last good night’s sleep.

The next day after hours of hassling over prices, we were on the road and in the forest. The hike was four hours, two in the pouring rain. We didn’t see any animals on the way in, but when we arrived at the first mirador (a house on stilts), there were two forest buffalo grazing in the savannah. Our attempts to make no noise were futile with 9 people, and when dusk rolled around there were no elephants or gorillas or any other animals to behold. The required silence was building tension within the group, and they only grew the next day when we decided to split up.

I hiked with five others to the second mirador, looking over a savannah four times as large as the last one. This time we hit the jackpot. An hour out on the trail, the guide motioned for us to stop and then quickly waved us over. As we peered around the corner, not 50 feet in front of us there was a female elephant with her baby. Spectacular. Further along the trail, the same signal for silence, and then the guide wandered off the trail. He’d seen a gorilla, but it ran away before the rest of us caught up. We reached the mirador right before dusk, and saw two gorillas who were chowing down on leaves. A silverback and a female. Half an hour later, on the far side of the savannah an adult and baby elephant came out of the forest looking for water. But then, right before sunset, the ultimate happened. An adult male elephant wandered in from our left and slowly approached the mirador. He couldn’t see us, and I snuck outside on the balcony to try to get some good photos. About 20 feet in front of us, he abruptly stopped. His trunk shot up in the air, obviously detecting some kind of odor. Then he panicked and stumbled backward before turning around and running for refuge into the forest. Ah, the consequences of six people not bathing for three days in the equatorial rainforest...

The trip out was better than going in (the weight of planning and responsibility was lifted off my shoulders). In Mambele we lit the town on fire, nine Americans dancing in the bar, the definition of a fishbowl. The whole town was watching, from babies to grandmas. We also reached a consensus that the most attractive young woman in all of Cameroon was working at this bar. And she apparently noticed our noticing – before the dancing started she went off to change into a hot pink flapper dress. When we rolled into Ndélélé, the whole town was talking. In an impromptu basketball game, it was Americans vs. Africans and we didn’t do so bad until they wanted to play full court. We ate a farewell dinner of bean burritos, chips, salsa, and guacamole, and yesterday came into Bertoua. The group continued on to Abong-Mbang and their respective posts, so we parted ways until the next big tour.