I didn’t have to throw Alex in jail. Alex returned this moring with the radio. The Chief saw it, and complained it was pretty much in the same state it was in months ago before it was supposedly fixed. The chief tried to blame Alex, but I called bullshit on that. It was broken before. I told the chief that I would go to the repair guys place, and we would chat about what the problem was. Alex and I headed up to the repair-man’s place.. and when I say repair man... I mean a guy who has a room with a few old stereo parts.. and a screwdriver. He doesn’t really know a whole lot more than I do about electronics. So, we open it up, and he says: “It’s the chip”. There is a little chip in the radio. He says they go all the time. Yeah. Whatever. He basically says that when there is lightning, it causes the batteries to send a power charge through the chip and blow it. I think the problem is that it is a cheap pirated piece of shit, and the chief has been using it for a year or two, and he dropped it.
I ask him a few more questions, and we leave… or at least I pretend to. We get a few steps away, and I say: “Alex, can you wait a second?”and head back. I noticed during our conversation that he said something about the radio having been there for a while. So, I asked the repair man how long it had been there.. to which he said: Depuis.. which roughly translates as: a while. I asked again, and he said: Depuis depius… a long time. Basically, confirming my belief that Alex had put it in hawk (the repairman is also runs a pawn shop). Alex lies like a rug, but its not my problem anymore. I have the chief’s radio. So, we head back, and Alex starts to plead… he was terrified I was going to throw him in jail. I told him no. I have the radio, and that is all. He kept insisting that he didn’t leave it in hawk… I tell him to go find a cheap radio for me, as I don’t have one. One that is like the Chief’s. He finds the exact (almost.. paint job is different) radio. My plan is to give the new one to the Chief while I get the old one fixed in Yaoundé.
The chief has to take that deal. See, what has been going on here is that the Chief has been trying to get me to buy him a new radio. a real one. He has been telling me all about his high quality radio that comes from Japan that he left me. Insurance scam style. I’m not going to spend time telling him that Panasonic doesn’t label their radios: Pansoanic. I’m just not going to play ball. So, he’s been trying to play me for a sap, and I’m going to let him hang in is own shit as well. I will fix his old one for a dollar or two, and take the other one back (which I have wanted for the house), which is new. He gets to keep his pride, or the better radio. I get a radio for cheap which I wanted, and I get to have this whole thing end. Alex gets, well, nothing. I told him today I wasn’t punishing him.. I would only punish him if I wanted him to change, and since I want nothing from him, why would I bother punishing him.
I had a little breakthrough today. First of all, I am, and have been in a foul mood these past few days. Between Alex and the Chief, and everyone else in town trying to fuck me over on a daily basis, its starting to wear thin. Seriously, I don’t think there is one person in town who hasn’t lied to me since I’ve been here. I don’t think there has been one person in town who hasn’t tried to get something off of me since I’ve been here. Even the kids. I have a high tolerance for this, and am pretty good at setting boundaries that I can live with. I say no a lot. I argue, and negotiate with relish. I understand that ruthless opportunism is a pretty fundamental part of the culture. None of that even really bothers me. My breakthrough?
Oh yeah. I realized that I would be much less annoyed if I could play the same game that they play. I mean, if I could use all the techniques and tactics that I want to, it would be much easier. If I start to play hardball, they all get shocked, and start to cry foul. If I could just say to the Chief: you are lying, and you are trying con me out of money because you think all white people are made of money and stupid, and that is insulting and racist, so fucking stop it, or get out of my house. I say that shit to people I don’t know all the time, and while it is never pleasant, it works. Its part of why many people here are scared of me. The problem is when you know the person, or they are supposed to be someone I should be paying respect to, I can’t. Or at least not without serious consequences. What happenend with Jen was exactly that. Sorel didn’t like getting what she was giving, so she tried to get Jen thrown out of town.
I’m just going to have to keep shutting people down in my own special way: hoisting people in their own petards, patiently wearing them down, making people do work before I do anything, keeping everyone at an arms length, and watching every person who comes in my house, and saying no a lot. The problem is that it takes a lot of energy to do that all the time. Sometimes a good old fashioned ass kicking would be much more satisfying.
I lost my internet connection this weekend. The modem was working fine, but for some reason, it wasn’t able to send and receive data past the satellite. My paranoid self thought that it might be getting blocked, my reasonable self thought that something happened with the subscription. The truth will not be known. It just started again after a break of almost a week. So, it felt a bit strange not being connected. Part of it was liberating. Part of it was frustrating, as it usually is when I find myself without internet. The difference here is that the gap between not having it, and having it is big. I had to write Gwinn an email with instructions to contact the service provider to try to solve the problem remotely, and send that email on a disc with someone up to Yaoundé, have them send it from their account, and wait. I’ve known this for a while, but, I wouldn’t want to be here for so long without being able to connect. I don’t think I would have come here if I didn’t think that I would be able to have some contact with the rest of the world. Not having that connection for a few days, while it didn’t really bother me, reminded me of why.
So, what happened during those ‘lost days’. Oh you know, the Lomié regular rhythm of life. To start with, CIAD (Jen and George’s NGO) had their general assembly. It was a major act of rebellion. They went against the hierarchy. They elected a new board of directors, and started to really clamp down on Elias, the former director who stole all the money. The problem is that it might be too little too late… and done by people who are not used to thwarting authority. As a lifelong authority thwarter, I have been giving them some tips, but I am really trying to stay out of direct participation. I don’t really think that the new guard will really be that different than the old guard. It took all day Saturday to do the assembly. I drew all during the meeting. I’m getting the hang of these things. Go with my sketchbook, and get hours and hours of uninterrupted drawing time… and a show. My favorite part are the elections. There isn’t really much of a democratic spirit here… oh sure, there are elections, but the outcome is pretty much set before it even begins. The candidates announce who they are going to be (all decided in advance), then there is voting. That is also decided in advance. They pretty much want me there as an observer, so that I can vouch for the transparent and democratic nature of the process. They don’t really like it much when I say: “oh I don’t really mind that results were decided well before the vote, or even the meeting today”. I’m not supposed to say that. Its like I stand up in the room and say: “Its ok that you farted, I don’t mind”. Everyone gets stuck on the whole.. how did you know I farted part, but I clearly don’t care if they follow these stupid and totally imposed rules from the outside. Like you can trick people into good governance. We really do think Africans are stupid. I did learn something that I have been looking for a while. It’s a Zime saying that roughly translated goes something like this: “When a strong man helps a weak man in a fight, the weak man will run away”. Basically, I have been looking for linguistic evidence that charity, or helping someone out, is considered lunacy or weakness. This definitely does the trick. Its why ‘development’ just won’t work here. They wait until we show up, and then run away. Our culture is just the opposite. You always take the side of the underdog. So, when people come here to help the weak man fight, and he runs away, we are shocked. They Zime are shocked that we are shocked.
Speaking of weak men, and fighting. I threw Alex out this weekend as well. I knew he was done when he came back from getting new gas bottles in Among M’bang with almost no gas, and no money. He’s been getting particularly greedy again… and I have just had enough. I waited until Sunday to do it, so that I had a whole day to follow through on what I knew was going to be an pain in the ass. I started by taking Alex around to all of the places where he had outstanding chores, or stuff owed. We stopped by the carpenter (who I have been waiting for to deliver my table for almost 3 weeks). 5 minutes later, the carpenter promised delivery at noon that day.
We went to a few other places, and ended up at home, where I said (in my best Colombo) :” Oh, by the way Alex, you did say that you bought that grill right?”
“oh yes” was the reply.
When the Peace Corps volunteers were here and we grilled beef, I paid for a grill. Alex produced one. A week later Yo Yo (my neighbor) came to collect it. Apparently, he had borrowed it, and told me had bought it. Bouffing my money (bouffer, to eat in French slang, is the local word for stealing the money).
I said: “that’s strange, ‘cause Yo Yo told me you just borrowed it”.
“No, I bought it, but not from her”.
“oh” I say “Well, I’m confused, lets go straighten this out”.
He said: “She isn’t there, she’s at Church”.
“Really,” says I. “Thatcher, is Yo Yo at home” I asked her as she conveniently walked by..
“Oh yes, she’s getting ready to go to Church”.
“Great, can you let her know I’m coming over”, as I got up to head over there.
Alex goes as pale as a black man can. He lags behind a minute, trying desperately to figure a way out of this. I’m already in the neighbors compound.
“Is Yo Yo here?”.
She pops her head out, and I say: “Alex was telling me that be bought the grill, but you were saying he bought it… What’s going on here”.
I can be a real bastard, the whole morning was about engineering this moment. Alex will be smarting from that exchange for a long time. She fucking ripped into him. He tried to speak in Zime, she would have none of that.
“In French, I want Ben to know how much of a liar you are”.
That was the start. I let her rip into him for a minute or two as he come up with one lame lie after another.
I then said: “Thank you very much for clearing this up” and headed home.
Alex followed.
We sat on the rattan deck chairs, and I said: “That’s it Alex, you are done”.
He didn’t get it for a second or two, so I got up, asked him for his key and said:” Empty your room, and don’t come back”.
The tears came, the begging, every imaginable plea, whine or flat out begging continued for a few hours, as he slowly packed each item he owns into two small plastic bags. It was pretty much one of the saddest, most pathetic scenes I’ve ever seen. One of the things that bugged me the most, is that he kept trying to negotiate. One more chance.. over and over. No was the answer. Over and over. He told me he was going to the village to live.. which is essentially like a demotion, and was supposed to elicit sympathy from me. I bought him a machete, and a sharpener and said” “good luck, you will need it”.
I basically let him have it, but in a cold emotionless way. I told him that my anger was cold, and that kind doesn’t go away. I told him I didn’t hate him.. I pity him, which is like hate without the respect. I told him he was going to die unless he made the choice to be a man. Blah blah blah. I told him I knew that, as Charly had told him he was not welcome there either, that meant he had nowhere to go. He still had in the back of his mind that this was a negotiation, or a warning, or something. To be blunt: Fuck that noise. I am here for another year and a half, and I need to train some people to learn how to use my stuff so that they can do it themselves when I leave. Everyday Alex is around is one less day that I have to teach someone who wants to learn. He basically said at one point that he would be happy to not talk to me until I was ready to leave, so he could have some of the shit in the house (like my gas stove, or chairs)… Nice to be wanted.
I told him it really hurt me that I had to do this, but nowhere near as much as it was going to hurt him. The brutal truth is that Alex will not survive more than a few months in the village… and if he does, he’ll never make it out again. It is a fucking hard life, and he is a coward , lazy, vain and has a drinking problem. He has no bed, no possessions, no money, no skills, nothing of use to the people in the village. He is dead weight in a part of the world where the word dead will get accentuated in that phrase. I’m essentially sentencing him to either death or purgatory. This was hard for me to do, but I’m not pretending that was doing this for his own good. Maybe it will be, maybe not. That is his choice. I am doing this because he costs me too much money, time and effort. I am not getting a good return on my investment, and I am switching product. I told him there are 6 billion people in this world, and we as individuals are worth almost nothing. I told him if he could give me a good reason I should give him another chance.. I would consider it. He didn’t have anything. I really don’t like having to do this kind of shit. I don’t like having other people’s future in my hands. I resent it. My own future is going to be hard enough, but I really don’t like having my patience mistaken for weakness, and I will sleep well tonight knowing that I gave him every chance to make this work.. and he chose not to. He accused me of crucifying him. I said.. the hell I did. I put the hammer, the nails and the wood on the ground. You did the rest.
So, he slept in Charly’s car last night, apparently. This morning, who should walk by, but the Chief of Karagua, looking for his radio. Apparently Alex never finished dealing with that. If it wasn’t the grill, it would have been the radio that put him out the door. I sat with the Chief, and had to listen to him complain about not having his radio for months (and he is right to be pissed). I hunted down Alex, and let him have it. Publicly, which is the worst possible punishment. He needed to find the radio, or the name of the person who had it by noon the next day. At 11 am he showed up with a name… a name of the brother of the guy who supposedly had it. The Chief came by later, and said he didn’t know who that was. Off I went hunting down Alex. Charly found him first. I had a short talk with him before we met with the Chief. I said:” I think you sold the radio for beer money. If this is true tell me now, and you won’t go to jail. If you tell me it went down, and it turns out that it doesn’t show up, you are going to spend a long time in jail. You can’t steal the Chief’s radio and get away with it, and you can’t ruin my professional reputation for beer money”. A long pause, and a.. “I sent it down”. We met with the Chief. Alex’s answers were wholly unacceptable. I suggested that Alex go down the next day, find the guy, and the radio, or suffer the consequences. The Chief seemed to think that was a fair proposal. Alex left this morning, and is supposed to come back this evening. We shall see. I hope for his sake that he is not lying. I will throw him in jail. Isn’t that why I came here? Come to Africa, throw people in jail. Its all a part of VSO’s slogan: Sharing skills and changing lives. I am sharing my skill at being ruthless, and certainly changing his life. Maybe the new slogan should be sharing kills, and ending lives.
Speaking of ending lives. I have a small update on the GECEC situation. Apparently, the rumor around town is now that they don’t have enough money to give people their money. It is a very localized rumor, and can be explained away as a cash shortage, and a new credit application freeze.. but I’m not sure how long its going to stay as a closely held rumor. All hell my break loose.
Oh, and a final sharing and caring moment. Arlette is no longer representing VSO Cameroon… as of a week ago. I’m not sure if she got officially fired.. but there goes another life I changed. Boy, I am going to leave a large trail of wreckage behind me at this rate. If Cameroon gets many more volunteers like me, they will all be out of jobs, and in jail.
It doesn't begin with a P... but come to think of it, Life in Lomié would make a great musical. I can hear it now, complete with Baka water music. This goes right up there with my Gay Quarterback in the NFL busby berkeley musical. Sigh, what I could do with a large fortune. Alas, money makes people really boring.
Speaking of money, that is what this trouble I was referring to is all about. GECEC is having problems. I'm not sure how much I've written about this, but for the past two months the problems have started surfacing at GECEC. The first being Thomas. Thomas has been stealing money. He's stolen about 2 million (which would be about 4 thousand dollars or about 5 or 6 years salary) in the past year. He did it by taking money for deposit, and then ripping out the record of it. Basically, he's bought a few things with it, but he's probably spent most of it on stupid stuff like beer for everyone. The auditor discovered the gap before the general assembly. He agreed to not go public with it, as the auditor hadn't shown up in a year, and that was thier job. So, after they studied the books, they found that Thomas had been stealing. They also discovered a larger almost 5 million CFA gap in the books. But they aren't sure if it really is a gap, or just bad bookkeeping. I think it may not even be missing, but Charly is making sure that he can take his share if the whole thing falls apart. So, day before yesterday, they confronted Thomas with an offer. Pay back half, and you can keep your job,and not go to jail, as long as you make monthly payments. I'm still not sure the outcome. The police commissioner was on standby... I have not been wanting to be there for this, and I was specifically not invited. So the implicaitons of this are legion. This is the only funcitoning savings and loan for hundreds of kilometers, if it goes down, there is nothing. Not only that, it will be the second attempt in Lomié. I'm not sure there would be another. If word gets out that the empolyees have been stealing there will be a run on the bank.. and there aren't a lot of funds in the bank currently (loan repayment is in the low 40%, and viability for a bank needs to be in the hight 80%). So, the mayor, and the other elite in town would be sure to get thier money out.. which means.. that's right. The regular people who do the bulk of the work supporting an institution like this, repay thier loans, and follow the rules are going to suffer.
Jen has a friend named Ange. She got a job a few months ago cleaning house for a petty functionary. She worked about 10 hours a day, 5 days a week for the whopping sum of 10.000 CFA a month. That is about 40$. She was putting half of it in her account at GECEC, so that she can go to school in the fall. She got fired because the wife was jealous, and the man has not paid her for her last month of work. She is going to lose all of her money at GECEC if there is a run. Ange is 18 and ran away from Batouri and her abusive husband with her baby about a year ago.
Two closing notes. One, GECEC's survival is dependant on me finding money to prop them up. Now that I know that what I can bring in is just going to paper over holes in the books, I am less motivated to work hard on something I don't really want to do (namely, write grant proposals). I don't realy feel obligated, or responsible, really, more annoyed. I mean, it is really going to suck for a lot of people if there is a run on the bank, but I didn't steal the money from the till. I will continue to work on it, and if something comes of it, great, if not. Well, I will probably be chased out of town with the rest of the GECEC crew. Hell, maybe they will even blame me. Two, it is like working with the sword of damoclese hanging over your head here. It seems like, instead of putting the sharp objects away and getting to work, they throw them up in the air, and try to get work done before they have to dodge them coming down, pick them up, and throw them up in the air again.
oh, and the puppy i didn't get just bit my penis.
Jen build a chicken coop today... for our one, kinda sad, chicken. I want to bring some farm chickens back from Yaoundé next trip. The difference being that village chickens run around and eat everything. They can get big, but don't lay a lot of eggs, and have less meat, as they.. well, run around. The farm chickens lay often, and get bigger. Yum. Eggs and Chicken. I may also try to find some bunnies to raise. I like rabbit meat, and they breed like crazy. I just hope they can survive in the jungle. Who knew that I would like animal husbandry. Actually, I can pretty much handle chickens, and rabbits. I was going to raise goats, as I love goat cheese...but I found out that for anything other than meat, they are no good. It turns out that the grass here grows so fast, it spreads the same nutrients over the larger volume of plant. Basically, its like eating an entire diet of celelry. It takes more calaries to digest than it gives. Consequently, the goats are all fat as hell, and starving to death. They can barely make enough milk for their own kids. So my dream of cheese is going to have to wait.
I didn't get a puppy today. It is cute, but I don't really need the hassle. Alex has taken to wanting things, and if I say: "yeah maybe someday", he takes it as yes, and gets one. He did it for curtains, and now, a puppy. So this morning two guys came by with a puppy. I told them I wasn't interested, but as Alex made the deal, it could spend the day tied up waiting for Alex to get back from getting the cooking gas canisters filled (in Among Mbang). He is now almost 2 days late. I'm not looking forward to the story of why he couldn't fill them, and why my money was spent. Alex, btw, is on his last fuck-up. His list is done. At this rate, he has a few weeks left before he can't help himself, and do something stupid. Anyway, the puppy is here, and has been howling all day for attention. As I don't hit children or dogs, the typical solution here for behavorial modification, it doesn't understand that I just want it to shut up. How could it. So, I've been working with headphones and coming out ot play with it every once in a while.
Now if I can only find the guys who brought it.
so.. yesterday, Alan (my neighbor) lent his motorcycle to someone. They used it all day, returned it out of gas, and broken. Things have not been going well next door. D'oh has been sick, and they have very little money. The rainy season is here, and Alan's car repair business is slow. Petit and Patricks school money and living stipend have not come from thier parents. The kids come over regularly to eat here, as they have nothing at home. Alan took it very badly that this man took advantage of him. He apparently beat the living shit out of him, and was only stopped from killing him by other people around who convinced Alan that this guy could work off his debt around the compound better if he was still alive. When I told Petit this story, he said: "oh, I was wondering who the bruised guy doing housework was".
Thatcher (yes, after Margret), the older little girl next door, has been causing trouble lately. She has no mother, but is being taken care of by Yo Yo (Alan's sister). She has been doing things to make sure she gets attention. Breaking things, taking things, and generally causing trouble. The past few days, she has been a bit sheepish, and quiet. Yesterday, she came over to sit in the house. Lolita (yes.. another neighbor child) told her to show me her arms and feet. They were swollen and lascerated. Apparently Yo-Yo wailed on her something fierce. Jen said she heard a child howling for a long while in the afternoon.
These are my good neighbors. It just flat out sucks to be a Cameroonian child sometimes.
So... the rule in my house is no hitting, no fighting. Hard and fast... the kids know that I am serious, and if they start, and I even start to get up from work, they all start to file out.. knowing exactly what the consequences are... they will be kicked out. But, for next door... there is not much I can do, or even feel comfortable judging.
The peace corps volunteers in the east came to Lomie this past weekend. It was the kind of american invasion I can support. There were 8 volunteers who came. Carey, who I've written about, and 7 other, much younger, volunteers. We tried to make burgers, but the only woman with a meat grinder in town hates Charly (my boss), so no go. We ended up grilling strips of beef on my new grill (which really consists of some wires). It was good. The little american oasis here was, well, kind of anti-climatic. The volunteers were, to a person, very nice, very young, and more than a bit vague. I don't know how to describe it otherwise. I mean, I'm sure some of that comes from getting older, but I know myself well enough to know that I was never that vague. At thier age, I was running Mob productions, and running around like a bat out of hell. They seemed kind of shell shocked. All of them had been here for more than 9 months...so it wasn't about being new. It was more about... well, the fantasy of Africa meets the reality. Most of thier observations were pretty much at the very local level, and most of thier jobs are of a much smaller scope than mine. The most important thing that I learned is that the Peace Corps is more like high school than anything else. They have dorm rules in Yaounde, a curfew, and all sorts of supervision. I would go balistic.
On Sunday we made pancakes for dinner. That was a treat. All in all, great fun, and totally american conversations were had... including obligatory star wars references.
My gorilla skull has a friend. Its a panther skull. It is tragically beautiful. I was also offered Ivory, but I declined. If anyone thinks that the elephants, panthers and gorillas stand a chance in hell of surviving are mistaken.
In a related sad topic. There is a fight brewing between which western organization is going to get to support the gorilla habituation project. The one that is going to fund embezzlers and frauds, or the one that is trying to give self aggrandizing liars the money. The end result of this is that the villages are being torn apart by 'conservation' NGO's that really need a 'gorilla project' in their portfolio. Its big money. With a gorilla on your glossy conservation magazine cover you can get a whole lot more donations to pay for the european salaries and plane tickets to see exotic places. Its all about those giant checks they get at fundraising events, and hanging out with concerned and caring celebrities. The biggest irony here is that no one ever actually gets to see the Gorillas...but hey. Those are details right?
I'll write more about the actual details as I get better information.. you know, name names, tell all. This would be a really good article on the savageness of conservation, and the very lucrative end game for this kind of betrayal. If I only knew a good investigative journalist. This is a story that could be told very very well. I just can't write well enough. But I am going to try out some sneaky stuff of my own to get people to lie on film. We'll see.
The real output of all of this.. is tragically, going to be more Gorilla skulls probably.
It all started yesterday morning, at around 7:30am with some negotiation on the price of motorcycle rides to Echambord, which is about 21kms south of Lomié. I tried to get the price way down.. but that didn't work.
So, for 2000k CFA (4$) we all, and by all, I mean Jen, Vieux (a neighbor kid) and myself, headed off. It was cloudy, but cool. I was carrying my camera equipment, vieux was carrying the bamboo grumier truck that Vieux's brother made. He was carrying it so that the family would be complete. That was the reason for the trip. His little brother had finished several new trucks, and I was going to film him putting them together, and talk a little bit about selling them. At the very least, I was buying the ones that he made. So, off we go. Jen was carrying.. um, nothing. The ride was fantastic. The jungle is just fucking amazing, and as soon as you get about 10kms south, it gets to that really nice jungle, and it comes right up to the edge of the road. After about 20 minutes, the bike I was on got a flat....or more accurately, it had a slow leak, and we had to get down while it was getting fixed. Don't think that there were approriate tools. Think, metal wires, spit and some glue. We waited about 30 minutes for the guy to fix it. Off we go again. It turns out that Vieux lives a good 5 kms outside of town.so, we got to the town, and the drivers didn't want to take us the final 5k to Vieux's house... actually, they wanted to get the white man to pay some more...so.. we got down, said, you do what you have to do.. and we walked. Luckily for Jen, who was there to do research for Koko, a vegitable that grows wild in the forest, the local expert
so... Jen found the person she was looking for, and headed off into the jungle to collect plants. Vieux and I walked 5 kms to his house..where, when we walked in, the first thing that happened is that one of the boys there said: "merde".. I just flat out shocked him. I don't think they have ever had a white man in their house, and I was clearly a guest that they had been waiting for.. for weeks. Was I coming, was I not..they were sort of convinced that I was blowing them off...but then, walking down the road, there I was. merde. I sat with the father chatting for an hour or two, the father was gracious, and we had a long conversation... which was.. sort of interesting. There is is trait here that men have..Its this tendency to create a whole logical framework world view based on a few key assumptions that are, well, for lack of a better term, way way off. It is amusing and tragic all at the same time. After a meagre meal of plantains and avacodo (they are really really poor)...we got to the trucks. They were awesome. The kid had a basket full of parts, and built two more totally complex and fantastic machines in front of me. All of which I got on film. The whole family sat around, watched and commented and shouted at the boy.. who was so nervous at first, his hands were shaking badly. A few hours later, two totally amazing vehicles were sitting in front of me.I mean, they make the first truck look simple (I think I posted a few pictures of it somewhere... can someone check for me? If not, I'll post some photos). He also even made balsa wood logs for them. One is a tree lifter, and the other, a tree dragger.
they are like tractors.. but one has a crane...which works, and is counter balanced to be able to lift things without problems.
My coming there and filming.. was pretty much the highlight of his life. Seriously. It is strange having that kind of effect on people.
I really do want to sell his stuff so that he can afford to go to school. He lives a 10 mile walk from school, lives with his 7 brothers, and uses a razorblade, and bamboo to make these things. Sometimes, when he can find one, he takes a plastic bottle and makes windows, on even rarer occasions, he finds some paint, and paints them. And he makes absolutely fantastic vehicles. His mother is going to make special baskets to transport each one. I had to spend a lot of time convincing them of that. They were talking about me taking the kid to the port, and having him assemble them there, as if the rest of the world was just outside the port. Like the port was the end of the world. From there, it was all wine and roses, so why did you even need put them in a container, or box. It is difficult negotiating with people who are absolutely convinced that they understand how the world works... and clearly have no clue. They are sooo sure that the world is like.. well, 15 minutes of video they saw once, mixed with an experience of working with a white guy 20 years ago... Mostly, I let them say what they want without breaking it all down too much. Its just to far.
So.. hopefully, I will get the customized rattan baskets.. which will help in transport and sales...and I can work on getting them out of the country.
So, at about dusk.. we set off to walk back a short 30 kilometers (20 miles for the metrically impaired. After about 10kms, the geovic truck, full of singing workers drove by. One of Jen's friends has a sister who works for them...
and they stopped. I got in the back and hung on for dear life for 30 minutes
I was really, barely hanging on, there were 20 of us in a pickup.. the muslim guy who speaks no french and I, were shoved out of the back, hangin on. There was a lot of singing, as they just got paid, and they were mostly drunk already. It was fun.. and totally scary. I got off and had a very sore calf. I was essentially holding myself in the truck with one leg, wedged under a giant mass of plantains... and got a very bad charly horse. I worked it out with some tiger balm....and that is half the story of my yesterday
Wait.. are these the troops I was supposed to be supporting? Or was is just hte 'healthy' ones who chose a job who's primary description was to kill. I mean lets be honest, there was no draft, and this isn't 1942. So, for those that don't get it... the American Empire is done. These pictures will have more of an effect on the balance of power, and future politcs than September 11th. The amazing thing is how deep this goes, and how little, it seems from here, that the government understands how bad this really is. Even a completely unpresidented (heh) quasi apology is so completely besides the point. This isn't about individuals, as much as the machine always blames its failures on the individuals, this is about a system that fosters a culture of actions without consequences. How could a bunch of kids who kill for money (and a bunch of private contractors who flourish on misery), fly half way across the world to start a war based on total, and blatant lies, do anything less than this? The particular nature of these photos (and apparently the videos put the stills to shame) reveals a deeply troubled national psyche. This is the Bush America. This is our America. This is what we have become. This is what becomes of all countries that fall in love with the idea of war.
Why am I ranting here about this? Because here in Lomié, at the end of the road, and again the end of that one, where people don't care about politics. People are turning against the US. Americans were gods here. Gods of light and power. The power now has limits, and the light has developed a sickly reddish hue.
Apparently I was on national TV this weekend for my valuable participation in the opening of the SNV office in Bertua. I'll be signing autographs at the local Barnes & Noble all week. In other news, the porcupine was recovered. As of last night, he was in his little cage, happily eating bananas. I'll go check to see if he is still there this morning. Yep, still there, and now, fiesty.
Earlier this week I went to Bertua, the capital of the east. I went for another SNV type of event, and I'll spare you the details. It was their office opening, and office openings are pretty much the same everywhere, except here, there is more protocol, and all the speeches are read. Anyway, Bertua is about 200kms away, and it took about 12 hours to get there. Bertua is actually a city. I wasn't expecting that, but it definitely hit that critial mass that you need to achieve cityhood. It was bustling, and clearly growing fast. There are also a lot more white people there, and I think that they are timber industry people, and the like, for the most part. I say this because I was approached several times in the few minutes I was in public by women who were, um.. very forward. Clearly being sexually aggressive to white men pays off in enough cases that it is normal. Very different from Lomié. All in all, I don't think I'll be spending a whole lot of time in Bertua.
The ride back was as usual, brutal and long. Two things of note. There is a category of clothing that, for lack of a better term I'll call 'ironic' clothing. I first noted this when I was with Gwinn in NY years ago, and we saw a bum (and I distinguish that from a homeless person) wearing a shirt that said: 'Expect the unexpected". Apparently he didn't read his shirt... or maybe he did. Anyway, I saw some ironic clothing here recently. On the ride back, when I got out to push the van out of the mud, a villager... and I mean deep village inhabitant... was wearing a baseball cap, the kind that a generic tech company from the late 90's made in support of their PR efforts. This one said "building a better tomorrow" with a super slick, and ultimately generic logo. This villager is sporting a fancy cap (fancy by Cameroonian standards), that he probably counts as one of his more valuable possesions. I wonder if this ranks up as one of the more usefull things this company did.
The other piece of ironic clothing was a pair of pants that a Baka was wearing when he was selling me the baby porcupine. They were those purposely ripped jeans, with the heavy fraying. Now people here all wear clothes that are ripped (except the elite), but they spend a lot of time and energy trying to avoid that. It never occured to the Baka that the pants were torn on purpose, he thought... well of course that is why they sent them down here. So, he was happy to be wearing these torn pants, not because he thought they were fancy, but that it was ok, as most of the clothing worn here is torn...so these fit right in.
By the way, there is a lot of used European clothing here. Most of it Dutch. Apparently, much of it is gathered as donations, shipped down here, and then sold to the local inhabitants for a profit to the middle man. Nice.
Yesterday was 'labor day'. Here, it is a bit different. Only the elite have jobs, so labor day is a celebration of superiority of those who have jobs, over those who just work the field... which isn't considered work. It was, of course, celebrated with a large amount of drinking. Today is quiet though. Most people are really really hung over.