Sean's Blog
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
N'Gaoundere, Cameroon
I met my guardian angel yesterday at a crowded roadside cafeteria in N'Gaoundere. He was unobtrusively sitting across from me, blending seamlessly in with the crowd. I was eating flavorless liver with soggy plantains. In a southern drawl more at home in Alabama or Louisiana, he said his name was Dale.
While I am certain that I have kept him busy in the past, there had never been a reason for an actual meeting. He has done a great job; many lesser accomplished guardian angels would surely have failed in his place. With a magician's touch, he has worked skillfully behind the scenes. But this time was different.
It is quite possible that Dale tried to drop me hints from afar. Even now, the Harmattan winds are gathering strength as the dry gusts give new life to the parched earth. I am quickly growing accustomed to wearing layers of dust like clothes. With such a great disturbance in the air, I understand how it would be difficult for any messages to get through. A more direct intervention must have been necessary.
As I forced liver down my throat, desperately trying to trick my stomach into acknowledging that it had no choice in the matter, I causally mentioned our travel plans to Dale. We had planned on leaving for Yaounde the following day via the easterly route by the Central African Republic. This was a trip that would take several days across what Lonely Planet describes as a 'vast trackless wasteland' separating the north from southern Cameroon.
Dale cheerfully informed us that during the past week, Chadian rebels had hit an unusually large number of vehicles on this route. While some highway banditry was typical in this region, this recent spate of assaults had also notably occurred during the day. Dale discreetly remarked that these Chadian's had a particular distaste for white Americans. It was clear that he thought we should avoid the route.
If we had left Nigeria earlier as we had planned, we might very easily have been caught up in the recent strikes. I didn't ascribe it to Dale before, but I now felt I saw his handy work in the Air Force incident. It still seems highly implausible that the Nigerian military and customs detained us for so long through hospitality and kindness. I wanted to ask Dale how he pulled that one off.
As I pushed aside the remaining liver, which curiously looked indistinguishable from the plate I had been served nearly an hour before, I thanked Dale for the update. He said he had to be going and wished us safe travels. As he was leaving, a bit incongruously he told us that if we wanted great grilled fish, we had only to look in the part of the town infamous for its prostitutes. Then he was gone.
We are no longer taking this easterly route. There is only one other realistic option, heading south west back towards the Nigerian border. This road is said to be 'rough and seldom traveled'. We will be going very slow and banditry is still a threat. But to ignore Dale's extraordinary appearance and timely advice would be particularly daft.
I met my guardian angel yesterday at a crowded roadside cafeteria in N'Gaoundere. He was unobtrusively sitting across from me, blending seamlessly in with the crowd. I was eating flavorless liver with soggy plantains. In a southern drawl more at home in Alabama or Louisiana, he said his name was Dale.
While I am certain that I have kept him busy in the past, there had never been a reason for an actual meeting. He has done a great job; many lesser accomplished guardian angels would surely have failed in his place. With a magician's touch, he has worked skillfully behind the scenes. But this time was different.
It is quite possible that Dale tried to drop me hints from afar. Even now, the Harmattan winds are gathering strength as the dry gusts give new life to the parched earth. I am quickly growing accustomed to wearing layers of dust like clothes. With such a great disturbance in the air, I understand how it would be difficult for any messages to get through. A more direct intervention must have been necessary.
As I forced liver down my throat, desperately trying to trick my stomach into acknowledging that it had no choice in the matter, I causally mentioned our travel plans to Dale. We had planned on leaving for Yaounde the following day via the easterly route by the Central African Republic. This was a trip that would take several days across what Lonely Planet describes as a 'vast trackless wasteland' separating the north from southern Cameroon.
Dale cheerfully informed us that during the past week, Chadian rebels had hit an unusually large number of vehicles on this route. While some highway banditry was typical in this region, this recent spate of assaults had also notably occurred during the day. Dale discreetly remarked that these Chadian's had a particular distaste for white Americans. It was clear that he thought we should avoid the route.
If we had left Nigeria earlier as we had planned, we might very easily have been caught up in the recent strikes. I didn't ascribe it to Dale before, but I now felt I saw his handy work in the Air Force incident. It still seems highly implausible that the Nigerian military and customs detained us for so long through hospitality and kindness. I wanted to ask Dale how he pulled that one off.
As I pushed aside the remaining liver, which curiously looked indistinguishable from the plate I had been served nearly an hour before, I thanked Dale for the update. He said he had to be going and wished us safe travels. As he was leaving, a bit incongruously he told us that if we wanted great grilled fish, we had only to look in the part of the town infamous for its prostitutes. Then he was gone.
We are no longer taking this easterly route. There is only one other realistic option, heading south west back towards the Nigerian border. This road is said to be 'rough and seldom traveled'. We will be going very slow and banditry is still a threat. But to ignore Dale's extraordinary appearance and timely advice would be particularly daft.
Monday, December 05, 2005
Banki, Nigeria
The military, my greatest fear in Nigeria, detained us for over a week in Maiduguri. It all began as we approached the outskirts of the city with a single soldier on the road. Instead of pleading for a bribe, he encouraged us to visit the Air Force Officers Mess, where supposedly every Friday a disco was held. After arriving in town and asking around, it seemed as if this was the only option. While the city of Maiduguri seeks to enforce sharia law, it sounds like they are having no luck with the military; their desire to have a few beers and dance in the evenings will not be tempered. Yet, since we've heard so many negative things about the military in Nigeria, the very idea of walking into one of their bases on a night when many of them would probably be drinking seemed ridiculous.
Nevertheless, we arrived early at the mess hall and one of the guards informed us it was a members only club. However, he would go in and check with the Major. The Major came out, said that usually they didn't allow non members in, but we could enter as his guests for the evening. Over the course of the night, we had an opportunity to chat with him and he invited us back to the club the following day for table tennis. During the next week, we found ourselves back at the Air Force Officers Mess on a daily basis. The Major took us on a tour of the city. He introduced us to a number of his friends, including his boys from Abuja: Jacko, Bosson and Joe. We were given honorary guest status at the club. All of our food and drinks for the remainder of our time in Maiduguri were on the house.
The Major also introduced us to Jamima, a reporter with Nigerian state television. She quickly took an interest in our work. After hearing that we regularly ate fara, or deep fried grasshoppers (a Maiduguri delicacy), she insisted on putting us on the air. Jamima invited us down to the station and filmed a seven minute segment on our campaign, which later led the Sunday feature.
After over a week in Maiduguri, we found it difficult to leave. Jamima, her husband Toyin, and the Major presented us each with handsome Nigerian outfits. We gave them a cake with 'To The best Nigerians Ever...' written on top, encircled with a table tennis racket, an airplane and a microphone. After having completely demolished all of my expectations about Nigeria, they have turned it into the country I wish most to return to.
We couldn't even escape the hospitality leaving Nigeria. Our team was given a personal escort to the border by the Chief of Banki Customs, where we had planned on exiting Nigeria. He ensured that while we sat and drank fantas, all of the usually rigorous paperwork and customs duties on both sides of the border would be taken care of. Our car was even washed while we waited.
Truly, the Nigeria we experienced was an unexpected joy. Although I only passed through the north, I felt angry at all the people that had spoken ill of Nigeria and tried to discourage us from coming with tales of danger, corruption and chaos. After meeting a large number of Nigerians who turned out to be the some of the best friends any of us have so far met on our journey, I know that I will be back.
The military, my greatest fear in Nigeria, detained us for over a week in Maiduguri. It all began as we approached the outskirts of the city with a single soldier on the road. Instead of pleading for a bribe, he encouraged us to visit the Air Force Officers Mess, where supposedly every Friday a disco was held. After arriving in town and asking around, it seemed as if this was the only option. While the city of Maiduguri seeks to enforce sharia law, it sounds like they are having no luck with the military; their desire to have a few beers and dance in the evenings will not be tempered. Yet, since we've heard so many negative things about the military in Nigeria, the very idea of walking into one of their bases on a night when many of them would probably be drinking seemed ridiculous.
Nevertheless, we arrived early at the mess hall and one of the guards informed us it was a members only club. However, he would go in and check with the Major. The Major came out, said that usually they didn't allow non members in, but we could enter as his guests for the evening. Over the course of the night, we had an opportunity to chat with him and he invited us back to the club the following day for table tennis. During the next week, we found ourselves back at the Air Force Officers Mess on a daily basis. The Major took us on a tour of the city. He introduced us to a number of his friends, including his boys from Abuja: Jacko, Bosson and Joe. We were given honorary guest status at the club. All of our food and drinks for the remainder of our time in Maiduguri were on the house.
The Major also introduced us to Jamima, a reporter with Nigerian state television. She quickly took an interest in our work. After hearing that we regularly ate fara, or deep fried grasshoppers (a Maiduguri delicacy), she insisted on putting us on the air. Jamima invited us down to the station and filmed a seven minute segment on our campaign, which later led the Sunday feature.
After over a week in Maiduguri, we found it difficult to leave. Jamima, her husband Toyin, and the Major presented us each with handsome Nigerian outfits. We gave them a cake with 'To The best Nigerians Ever...' written on top, encircled with a table tennis racket, an airplane and a microphone. After having completely demolished all of my expectations about Nigeria, they have turned it into the country I wish most to return to.
We couldn't even escape the hospitality leaving Nigeria. Our team was given a personal escort to the border by the Chief of Banki Customs, where we had planned on exiting Nigeria. He ensured that while we sat and drank fantas, all of the usually rigorous paperwork and customs duties on both sides of the border would be taken care of. Our car was even washed while we waited.
Truly, the Nigeria we experienced was an unexpected joy. Although I only passed through the north, I felt angry at all the people that had spoken ill of Nigeria and tried to discourage us from coming with tales of danger, corruption and chaos. After meeting a large number of Nigerians who turned out to be the some of the best friends any of us have so far met on our journey, I know that I will be back.
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