Cows feet, politics and a bottle of warm water.....

Day 37: Tuesday 18th November 2008

Catherine hosts our “send-off” party – she has prepared Yoruba style outfits for us, and special food, in particular "footcow" (which is apparently good for the joints!.) There is food, drink and speech-making, and we thank everyone for their hospitality, hard work and cooperation, without which our projects could not have taken place. In particular, Catherine's organisational, motivational and language skills have been invaluable.


Day 38: Wednesday 19th November 2008
“Not far now..... really .....”
Today I take a day off from report-writing, as Kharsum has invited me to visit Bambili lake with one of the Tubah Councillors. We set off early to avoid the heat of the day, and have been promised a short walk, but it turns out to be a long one and much later than planned.

The Cameroon countryside is volcanic and stunning, with still lakes hidden away in craters up in the hills; even high up, a lot of the area is cultivated; and the rest is grazing for cows, goats and sheep.

On the way we meet people that the Councillor knows; constituents, relatives, neighbours, friends and Pastor Martin, who is all four of the above. He is standing in the road with a pickaxe, working at breaking down boulders to make the road flatter, and is waiting for a group of volunteers he has co-opted to help with this. The time to manage the unpaved roads is in the dry season, which has now started; and in default of state support for road maintenance, individuals and groups are beginning to divide up stretches of unpaved road between them and take responsibility for their maintenance. It is back-breaking work at the hottest time of the year; but as Pastor Martin explains, the livelihood of the small farmers depends on access to market.

Pastor Martin lives locally, and is happy to escort us on to the lake. He takes the opportunity to harangue the Councillor on a number of contentious topics as we walk, but also runs to his farm to return with a freshly pulled bunch of carrots for us to take home.

"I never heard of anyone visiting a farm and coming home with no food" he laughs. We drop him back at the roadside, by which time the team of roadmending volunteers have arrived - they are a group of fairly elderly men; the heat is now intense, and we have nothing to offer them except a partly drunk bottle of warmish water, while they offer us enthusiastic greetings.