CAMEROON, Bamenda :: Religion and Politics

Two things one is not supposed to bring up in unfamiliar company or a first date. As it goes, I bring up the topics of Religion and Politics upon occasion on our travels, but scant enlightenment ensues – even though both are inseparable from the people and culture. People don’t praddle on like some Americans, namely me, which is probably a good thing.

But the photos of the holy houses are fantastic. From BURKINA FASO (top-left) you can see an example of a rare muslim mosque created entirely out of mud. This is probably 100 years old.

In Bamako, Mali, we went to Musee National, which highlighted the Djenne mosque in photos and mud scale models; sadly we couldn’t see the real thing. But Bobo in Burkina Faso offered a close facsimile as we walked to see the unholy dance flick in French; Stomp The Yard. I wasn’t impressed by my first ‘moviehouse’ experience. The DVD projection quit 5 times, including in the last 20 minutes, so feel free to send me the ending. Actually, don’t.

As for Politics, I have not heard much opinion on America, other than when I bring up Obama – usually as a means to explain where Chicago is. Chicago is home to Obama, Jordan, and Oprah in that order, and Obama name-dropping helps open folks up. Those that know Obama want him to be US prez. I know, I know, it’s the his-father-is-Kenyan hipness factor. But if he was president, it would make a world of difference to … well, the world. (Not that most voters in the US really care. Isn’t it the Economy, Stupid?)

Currently, I’m in the middle of the anti-government, dissident capital, Bamenda – which is also english speaking in a majority french speaking nation. I love it. If only for the fact that unlike every other counry we’ve been in, the president’s photo (bottom-left) isn’t in every restaurant, hotel, and streetside billboard. This poster was inside the Embassy in Lagos, Nigeria. I haven’t seen one photo of him in Bamenda – outside newspapers condemning his dictatorial rule. In Bamenda, even the opposition party against the 25-year rule of Paul Biya is losing popularity. Mostly because after anti-government strikes that killed over 100 in February (police literally drove people into the river to drown), and the recent amendment to the constitution that eliminates term limits (Paul Biya, a.k.a. President-for-Life) has officially passed, it looks like they’re as feckless as US Democrats circa 2002-03.

Back to the ‘ol USA, I hope we can “all get along BFF style” before November (center photo, edited from Int’l Herald newspaper). Everyone will be happy to know I’m reading more news here than the US. Almost. The $6 Newsweeks, Economists, New African and (also 5 bucks) International Herald are keeping me up-to-date. Also, a handy transister radio has BBC brewing its post-colonial news magic. The jungle won’t keep me in the dark.

Is it me, or is Hillary Clinton showing her true power-hungry colors in this campaign? Megan and I think so. Dismissing the democratic process and pushing for superdelegates to pick her, she said on CNN, “The caucuses are for activists” and “The primaries are one part of the process, but voters don’t really get to know us” (like superdelegates). Really?! It’s really eating away at her credibility, imho.

Speaking of which, perhaps EATING less rice will help the world food shortage? BBC says rice prices have doubled due to demand! Biodiesel may be a problem, too. The UN is now pushing hard on the issue. Haven’t seen evidence of it yet in terms of shortages in any country – bread (wheat) is plentiful, and so is rice.

CAMEROON, Bamenda :: There’s (still) a Body In Front of Our House

Megan and I co-wrote this morbid-but-true story together yesterday after seeing a dead body in front of our house and place of work.

It’s still here on Day 2. After the daily rains. It’s beginning to smell.

Here’s a photo outside our work window. It’s the ever-present crowd on Day 1:

Around mid-morning, a photo was passed around of the previous night’s first victim – the man the person on the other side of the dirt mound killed during a cell phone robbery. A chop to the back of the neck. As the story goes, a smaller crowd of anonymous locals took “matters” into their own hands and did worse. I won’t say “the law” because I’m unsure of what that means here.

What happened is clearly socially acceptable.

I’ve asked several people how they feel. Not one person even came close to condemning it, or, conversely, praising it. No “it’s just awful” or anything. It just is. They say, “he was a bad man” and similar justifying sentiments. As one proprietor footsteps from the corpse told me, “If he wasn’t a bad boy, his family would come and claim the body.” If there are strong emotions or opinions, they are closely guarded.

It’s difficult not to think about it, but DO NOT worry for us, or anyone here, as I feel like this is fairly normal. Or if not normal, accepted as the death penalty is in the United States. Yesterday, I asked if anything like this happened before to a smiling, forthright teen who lives in our same complex. She said, “Oh, yes. Definitely.” She recalled an event right outside our work/home address a few years ago that was “much worse.” They caught the supposed criminal, beat him nearly to death, covered him in rubber tires, then burned him alive. That was also for some crime in which “…the police will do nothing, because the criminals will bribe them and they’ll be back on the street in one day.”

She’s not the only one to say this is far from uncommon.

This girl also heard what happened the night of the vigilante killing, as she was up late into the night.

“I heard a yelling of ‘Teefe Mano’ [Pidgin English for 'Thief']. Then a fall, and a sound of someone yelling 3 times. Then silence. It was very quick, and thought nothing of it. I didn’t know what happened until my friend came over the next day to go to school together. I couldn’t face it, so I walked the other way up the road. I won’t see it.”

She’s stronger than most of us. As it’s hard not to look. We have photos, but some are not worth putting up. Why take them? It’s some need to document the completely foreign experience. Or our own messed up human nature. We may still put up a photo or two, as we feel it’s “newsworthy” and honest to an extent, but we don’t want to exploit the experience. PLEASE EMAIL US OR ADD COMMENTS on what you should think.

As for a comment from yesterday from a smart accountant coworker, who called this “jungle justice,” it’s not some racially tinged term. Many call it “jungle law” here in the Northwest province of Cameroon, and we are, after all, in the jungle. In the US, do you think I could say “Hey, it’s jungle justice” and leave it at that? But forget it, because it is what it is; and as I googled the term today, CAMEROON is the first story to come up (from 2006):

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/5111106.stm

An excerpt, which is eerily familiar (see anecdote above):

Mistrust

The attackers did not trust the police to bring the suspect to justice.

“Immediately he gives them money, he will be freed,” I was told.

“That is why we make sure we break one of their legs or any part of the body. It is well known that the police take a bribe and let suspects go.”

The same man said it was common for suspected bandits to be beaten to death in Limbe.

“It can happen today, tomorrow and the day after. These thieves are very busy monitoring people to rob. So we, too, are not sleeping.”

As he spoke, more people rushed to the scene, one carrying petrol – apparently to burn the suspect alive.

Another man described the lynchings as “our own way of passing a vote of no-confidence in law enforcement officers and judicial authorities”.

Local TV and radio are awash with reports about “jungle law” from around the country.

So this is Cameroon. 9 out of 10 hours are positive (or at least not painful), and the people are the MOST generous and sweet we’ve met in West Africa. But like David Lynch’s Blue Velvet or Twin Peaks taught Americans, there’s a dark underbelly to even the most innocent of locales.

Again, the full story is here. With a great New Yorker link about justice and revenge in the comment section, thanks to our friend Natasha.

Peace. Really.

NIGERIA, Lagos to Calabar :: The Nigerian Nightmare

Like tales of guns, mobs, and mad drivers? If so, this is the must-read premiere or David and Megan’s “Siskel & Ebert” (or “Ebert & Roeper”) reports when things get really hairy:

http://microconnections.wordpress.com/2008/04/04/the-nigerian-nightmare-heavyweight-boxing-on-the-road/

Some “Road Warrior”-esque Excerpts from the above true story:

David: … Somewhere after the warnings of imminent road robbery and before the military police surrounded our vehicle and scared off an angry mob of 50 with AK-47s, I caught a glance of a ubiquitous regional propaganda poster featuring a politician standing next to a giant torso: “Uyo is Proud of the Nigerian Nightmare.” …

Megan: … It was only 10 kilometers outside of town that Megan had her first panic attack and the situation began to look a bit less ideal. We have seen some crazy driving and some crazy roads in our travels – no less in Nigeria – but the driver of our vehicle was in a whole other category. The following are some quotes which Dave recorded in his journey over the first stage of our trip:

“Dave, get us out of this car right now. This man is going to kill us. I am serious.”  … 

David (somewhere late in the story, just link to Megan’s Microconnections and read it in full): … I was handed the cell phone, I asked, “Is this the police?” Answer: Yes, “Ok, there’s a crowd that’s about to become a riot; do you know where we are? Did the man before tell you?” Answer: A vague affirmation. Exasperated, I say, “Something bad is going to happen. Please come now!” Like many conversations of mine in Anglophone Africa, I think the police understood nary a word, except maybe “American” and “riot.”

PHOTOS :: Belated as Always, but Good Times in Senegal

If you’re checking my flickr page in April 2008, you get some Senegal island photos of happier times in February 2008. Sorry, Chicago, if you were enduring a freezing hell.