October 10, 2006
What’s the best way to prevent ethnic conflict?
As I discovered yesterday, bore the combatants so much they can’t remember why exactly they were fighting.
It’s a neat trick I discovered at a meeting held by the Cameroonian Ecumenical Service for Peace, an inter-denominational human rights group that includes the Catholic and Protestant churches, and sometimes invites Muslim clerics to play.
The meeting was to publicly show the independent evaluation of the SEP’s (French acronym. Sorry) conflict resolution project. The project itself involves setting up peace committees and getting local leaders to talk to each other. Yesterday’s event brought in a couple of participants from areas of ethnic conflict as well as SEP reps and the independent evaluator. Rebecca warned me it would be boring when she invited me. I agreed to go anyway I never turn down the chance to get a story.
As is usual in Cameroon, the show started an hour late. That was okay, since most people didn’t show up – including the people who were presenting – didn’t show up until an hour after the time on the invitation. Others didn’t show up until around noon for something that was supposed to start at 9:30.
And as is also usual in Cameroon, people spent hours and hours talking about what they did, not what they’re going to do. So, in this country of more than 200 ethnic groups, there was no discussion about what should be done to prevent violence leading up to next year’s election. Why do something interesting like that when you can have an evaluator tell everyone that SEP needs to involve elites more, and that CRS should give more money. Hey wait a minute. Why don’t we ask the elites we need to involve to put some money in before begging and bothering some Americans?
Rather than me try to make fun of what happened over the course of the four-hour presentation, I thought I’d just copy verbatim some of my notes. I have only added the quotation marks:
“Elections can bring ethnic conflict.”
“History of this in Cameroon, fears for the coming elections.”
“Happened a lot in the 1990s, after “opening” of the political system.”
“They should turn off the lights.” [Someone was showing a PowerPoint presentation with a yellow background and scrunched-together green letters on a yellow wall.]
[Bec gave me a melted sucking candy that had ants stuck in it about an hour in.] “Ziploc.”
[Bec wrote a note in her notebook for me.] “I can’t read your handwriting.”
[Realizing that there would be nothing looking at the future, only a report of what happened in the past few years] “No story here. Sorry.”
“[stick figure] – zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..”
“She has the biggest nostrils ever.” [Seriously, you could spelunk in them.]
“Why do we all need to hear this?”
[Bec then says I can leave. I decline.] “Cocktail! I’ve earned a reward for this.”
“How long is this going to go?”
“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“If this goes any longer, I’m afraid I might miss my plane.” [For those of you who don’t know, I depart Yaoundé on Saturday night and arrive in New York on Sunday morning.]
“In the end, this is all France’s fault.” [It’s their language. Bec often worries about writing grant proposals in French. It’s actually easy. The most vital part is never to get to the point of whatever it is you’re talking about. Make sure to do it in the most flowery language you can. The key in French is to be verbose.]
With a few exceptions to keep people out of trouble, that’s what I got out of the five hours of sitting through the nonsense. Well, that and a couple of spring rolls.
………………..
One of the people providing testimony about the usefulness of the ethnic conflict resolution program was royalty. Local chiefs still retain a lot of power in much of Cameroon. It’s not uncommon to hear someone referred to as your majesty.
Our majesty was wearing a long, red-and-black stocking cap with a pom-pom at the end of it. Whenever King Waldo walked, the pom-pom bounced.
King Waldo tried to cut me off on the line for spring rolls. I’m sorry, where I come from the king waits on the buffet line just like I do, your worshipfulness. I didn’t let him in. The Cameroonians behind me followed my lead. This is how revolutions start.
What’s the best way to prevent ethnic conflict?
As I discovered yesterday, bore the combatants so much they can’t remember why exactly they were fighting.
It’s a neat trick I discovered at a meeting held by the Cameroonian Ecumenical Service for Peace, an inter-denominational human rights group that includes the Catholic and Protestant churches, and sometimes invites Muslim clerics to play.
The meeting was to publicly show the independent evaluation of the SEP’s (French acronym. Sorry) conflict resolution project. The project itself involves setting up peace committees and getting local leaders to talk to each other. Yesterday’s event brought in a couple of participants from areas of ethnic conflict as well as SEP reps and the independent evaluator. Rebecca warned me it would be boring when she invited me. I agreed to go anyway I never turn down the chance to get a story.
As is usual in Cameroon, the show started an hour late. That was okay, since most people didn’t show up – including the people who were presenting – didn’t show up until an hour after the time on the invitation. Others didn’t show up until around noon for something that was supposed to start at 9:30.
And as is also usual in Cameroon, people spent hours and hours talking about what they did, not what they’re going to do. So, in this country of more than 200 ethnic groups, there was no discussion about what should be done to prevent violence leading up to next year’s election. Why do something interesting like that when you can have an evaluator tell everyone that SEP needs to involve elites more, and that CRS should give more money. Hey wait a minute. Why don’t we ask the elites we need to involve to put some money in before begging and bothering some Americans?
Rather than me try to make fun of what happened over the course of the four-hour presentation, I thought I’d just copy verbatim some of my notes. I have only added the quotation marks:
“Elections can bring ethnic conflict.”
“History of this in Cameroon, fears for the coming elections.”
“Happened a lot in the 1990s, after “opening” of the political system.”
“They should turn off the lights.” [Someone was showing a PowerPoint presentation with a yellow background and scrunched-together green letters on a yellow wall.]
[Bec gave me a melted sucking candy that had ants stuck in it about an hour in.] “Ziploc.”
[Bec wrote a note in her notebook for me.] “I can’t read your handwriting.”
[Realizing that there would be nothing looking at the future, only a report of what happened in the past few years] “No story here. Sorry.”
“[stick figure] – zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..”
“She has the biggest nostrils ever.” [Seriously, you could spelunk in them.]
“Why do we all need to hear this?”
[Bec then says I can leave. I decline.] “Cocktail! I’ve earned a reward for this.”
“How long is this going to go?”
“Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!”
“If this goes any longer, I’m afraid I might miss my plane.” [For those of you who don’t know, I depart Yaoundé on Saturday night and arrive in New York on Sunday morning.]
“In the end, this is all France’s fault.” [It’s their language. Bec often worries about writing grant proposals in French. It’s actually easy. The most vital part is never to get to the point of whatever it is you’re talking about. Make sure to do it in the most flowery language you can. The key in French is to be verbose.]
With a few exceptions to keep people out of trouble, that’s what I got out of the five hours of sitting through the nonsense. Well, that and a couple of spring rolls.
………………..
One of the people providing testimony about the usefulness of the ethnic conflict resolution program was royalty. Local chiefs still retain a lot of power in much of Cameroon. It’s not uncommon to hear someone referred to as your majesty.
Our majesty was wearing a long, red-and-black stocking cap with a pom-pom at the end of it. Whenever King Waldo walked, the pom-pom bounced.
King Waldo tried to cut me off on the line for spring rolls. I’m sorry, where I come from the king waits on the buffet line just like I do, your worshipfulness. I didn’t let him in. The Cameroonians behind me followed my lead. This is how revolutions start.
posted by Evan Weinberger at 7:42 AM
1 Comments:
Hi Ev,
I'm getting a bit concerned that they might not let you back in the country if you keep writing this stuff!
Love,
Mom
Post a Comment
<< Home