August 17, 2006
We had our first run-in with the Cameroonian police on Friday night. As Bec, our friend Duncan (the fish guy) and I walked back from dinner, gendarmes at a roadblock. Bec was in the lead and didn’t notice them because of the military fatigues they were wearing. After asking why she did not respect the authoritay (that’s not a misspelling for you South Park fans out there), the policeman proceeded to go through the certified copies of our passports.
“This is expired,” he said.
“No it’s not, it’s good through August,” Bec said, I think.
“Yes, but it’s August now,” the policeman said.
“That’s right. This is only good through the 28th of August,” the policeman said.
“It’s the eleventh.”
Finally, another roadblock officer saved us. Clearly the guy was looking for a bribe. But we don’t do that, and if you’ve got information on your side, you don’t need to. This is how corruption works in Cameroon: change the rules and try to get people to pay when they say they don’t understand.
Another example: our three-month visas are up soon, and according to an agreement between CRS and the Cameroonian government, we should get long-term residency cards after that three-month period. Except they changed the rules, and said we need to be here six months to earn our cards. So we’ll just re-up our temporary visas, and again, not pay.
It gets worse though. Those were two trivial matters and Bec and I have a powerful organization backing us. Someone was telling me that a regional coordinator in the east wanted to have each person involved in a project identifying and helping AIDS orphans come and meet him. That’s code for come and present an envelope with a relatively large amount of money. Without accurately identifying the orphans, they can’t get the help they need. Who’s going to stand up for them?
Don’t forget, the RDPC, the governing party, says no to corruption.
……
My mom was asking me about the weather in Yaoundé. Right now, we’re on the border between a remarkably pleasant dry season, where there were some days where it was downright chilly, and a reportedly remarkably nasty rainy season. Gray is the sky's usual color these days. The air is getting thicker and steamier as we speak, and I’m getting sweatier and sweatier.
…..
I met a man named Lafort last night playing Frisbee. He’s Cameroonian. I desperately wanted him to be wearing one of those foam hats, like a Dixieland band wears. Watch Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to find out. (And yes, Jon, I know that it’s spelled different.)
We had our first run-in with the Cameroonian police on Friday night. As Bec, our friend Duncan (the fish guy) and I walked back from dinner, gendarmes at a roadblock. Bec was in the lead and didn’t notice them because of the military fatigues they were wearing. After asking why she did not respect the authoritay (that’s not a misspelling for you South Park fans out there), the policeman proceeded to go through the certified copies of our passports.
“This is expired,” he said.
“No it’s not, it’s good through August,” Bec said, I think.
“Yes, but it’s August now,” the policeman said.
“That’s right. This is only good through the 28th of August,” the policeman said.
“It’s the eleventh.”
Finally, another roadblock officer saved us. Clearly the guy was looking for a bribe. But we don’t do that, and if you’ve got information on your side, you don’t need to. This is how corruption works in Cameroon: change the rules and try to get people to pay when they say they don’t understand.
Another example: our three-month visas are up soon, and according to an agreement between CRS and the Cameroonian government, we should get long-term residency cards after that three-month period. Except they changed the rules, and said we need to be here six months to earn our cards. So we’ll just re-up our temporary visas, and again, not pay.
It gets worse though. Those were two trivial matters and Bec and I have a powerful organization backing us. Someone was telling me that a regional coordinator in the east wanted to have each person involved in a project identifying and helping AIDS orphans come and meet him. That’s code for come and present an envelope with a relatively large amount of money. Without accurately identifying the orphans, they can’t get the help they need. Who’s going to stand up for them?
Don’t forget, the RDPC, the governing party, says no to corruption.
……
My mom was asking me about the weather in Yaoundé. Right now, we’re on the border between a remarkably pleasant dry season, where there were some days where it was downright chilly, and a reportedly remarkably nasty rainy season. Gray is the sky's usual color these days. The air is getting thicker and steamier as we speak, and I’m getting sweatier and sweatier.
…..
I met a man named Lafort last night playing Frisbee. He’s Cameroonian. I desperately wanted him to be wearing one of those foam hats, like a Dixieland band wears. Watch Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid to find out. (And yes, Jon, I know that it’s spelled different.)
posted by Evan Weinberger at 7:51 AM
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