Traveling in the Tropics: My Experiences with Transport in Cameroon
Though it can often be a pain, getting from one place to
another in Cameroon always leaves me with some kind of a story or a new outlook
on life. As a (relatively cheap) volunteer, when I travel, I typically try to
take the least expensive method of transportation possible, so long as it’s
safe (and permitted by my bosses!). Depending on where I’m going, this means
that I have a variety of transportation options open to me—the majority of
which are not necessarily easy to take. This is because the quality of most of
the roads in Cameroon isn’t great—in fact, only 33% of roads in the entire
country are paved! Due to the changes in elevation, soil type and terrain
throughout the country, this means that many of the unpaved roads—and even many
of the paved ones—are pocked with potholes, ditches, and bumps. And that’s just
during the dry season—during the rainy season, some roads become all but mud
flats and swamps that can be messy and/or impossible to get through. However,
the dry season is no easier on the weary traveler—if you’re traveling along
unpaved roads, the dust coming up can be unbearable, and forces you to keep
windows closed or wear scarves and sunglasses to prevent it from getting in
your eyes. Though I’m making traveling sound like a pain, to me, it’s always a
bit of an adventure—the struggle is part of the fun! So, if you’d like to learn
more about how I go where I go, check out my description of each transport
method I take below!
Car
One of the methods of transport I use most often is a car. To
my understanding, you can take a car—or at least a few to break up the
trip—pretty much anywhere in the country, depending on how much you’re willing
to pay. When going long distances, cars can often be pricier than buses or
coasters, because you’re more likely to leave when you want and the bumpy roads
are more bearable when you’re in a smaller vehicle. Most of the cars I’ve taken
are small, two or four-door Camry type cars, each decorated with a funny
sticker or saying on the back to give it some character. One of the cars I take
most often has an interesting saying painted on the back: “J’ai peur de tous mes amis, même toi,”
which means, “I’m afraid of all of my friends, even you.” Some cars are even
decorated with painted on Nike symbols or other small pictures or sayings. Most
of the cars I take have always had at least one (non-hazardous)
problem—sometimes the windows won’t roll down, a windshield is cracked, or the
door handle is missing from the inside. However, if there is a serious problem
with the car, the driver won’t risk taking anyone before getting the problem
fixed. Due to poor road conditions, it’s also fairly common for cars to get
flat tires halfway through a trip. This has happened to cars I’ve been in at
least 10 times since I’ve arrived in country. But, looking on the bright side,
it’s allowed me to learn how to change a tire!
To get a
car somewhere, there are usually two ways to go about doing so. The first is
only really possible if you live in a larger town, or a village that is in a
convenient location and hosts several drivers and a car park. In such villages,
you search for the “chef d’agence”—basically, the person who is in charge of
the schedule of cars and drivers—and explain you want to get a car to a certain
location. They will then look at their schedule of cars and drivers and tell
you that you will be going with whoever the next driver is. Depending on how
many clients the driver already has, they’ll offer to put your stuff in the
back and ask you to wait or tell you to come back in a while. This is because
drivers will rarely leave unless their cars are full of passengers—and by
“full,” I mean anywhere from four passengers and the driver to 9 adult
passengers, the driver, and several small children. It’s amazing how many people
can pack into a two-door Camry if you really try! Once the driver has found
their desired number of clients—or gets too impatient to wait any longer for
the car to fill up—all of the passengers will load their bags in, squeeze into
their assigned positions, and hit the road. All passengers do, of course, have
the option to “depot” a car—pay the price of the number of passengers the
driver could have and take the car alone or with whomever else they are
“depot-ing” with. I’ve done this once or twice with friends, and once when I
was in a rush to get somewhere for work. However, as previously mentioned, I
try to take the cheapest transport methods possible, so I rarely choose to
depot. When you get to your location, the drivers are usually incredibly kind
and helpful, and will offer to help you find and load your luggage into a car
to your next destination if you want. Sometimes, they’ll even offer to drive
you to a different location in your final destination if it’s not the same
place you originally arrive. Most drivers are incredibly accommodating, and
will often take in passengers to be dropped off along the way to their final
destination. For example, if a driver is traveling between town A and town C,
and you live between the two in village B, the driver will happily drop you off
there. Sometimes, they’ll ask you to pay the full price of town A to C,
especially if it’s too late for them to pick up passengers along the way. But,
if it’s midday and they’re expecting to find passengers along the way, they’ll
often make you pay less so that they can ensure they’ll have room to pick up
these other passengers wherever they are between towns A and C.
Which leads
me to the second method you can use to get a car. Using what many westerners
refer to as hitchhiking, you can get pretty much anywhere you want to go if you
live between two larger towns or between towns with their own car parks.
Through this method, you stand by the side of the road, and then flag down a
passing car going in your desired direction. If the car is full, or isn’t a car
that is meant to take passengers, it will just continue on. However, most cars
coming from one town to the next will have room for at least one more
passenger, and will happily pick you up to make some extra money. Some well-seasoned
travelers note patterns in which cars pass by, so they can plan what time of
day to start looking for a car without having to wait for too long. I haven’t
reached that area of expertise quite yet, but I’m hoping to soon!
Even though
my village is tiny, it lies basically halfway between two major towns in my
region of the Adamawa, so it’s a convenient point to travel from. Several cars
usually pass by throughout the day, so hitchhiking is usually an option.
However, my town also has 4 or 5 regular drivers, so cars typically leave for
the two cities around twice a day, with all the drivers rotating who goes to
which city on which day. Due to my constant need to travel, I’ve become very
friendly with most of the drivers. One is even my landlord! My close
relationship with the drivers makes traveling a lot easier, and more
comfortable, plus I always feel safe with them.
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| A friend's snapchat during travel. There were 4 of us, including the driver, just in the front seat! |
Moto-taxi
Motos are another popular way to get around all throughout
Cameroon, especially between two close locations or throughout larger cities.
They are also one of the most reliable forms of transportation during the rainy
season, as they can traverse major mud puddles much more easily than cars. In
fact, in most other countries where Peace Corps operates, volunteers aren’t
allowed to take motos—however, due to their convenience and utility in
Cameroon, we volunteers here are the exception to the rule. Although, we are
obliged to wear our super stylish Peace Corps-supplied helmets every time we
take a moto, to ensure our safety.
My first experience
taking a moto was during training. My training cluster lived about 20 km away
from our training center, so we had to find a way to get there and back every
day. When we asked around our tiny village the best way to get into town, the
answer was overwhelmingly to take a moto. So, on our first day of training, I
paired up with my cluster mate D’Arcy to hop onto a moto together. I stared at
our muscular moto man, the space left on the moto, and then at D’Arcy. “Where
should I sit?” I asked D’Arcy timidly, not wanting to embarrass myself more
than I already knew I would. “You can sit behind him, and I’ll take the back,”
he said, gesturing to a space that was half-occupied by a metal cage designed
to transport baggage. Gathering my skirt in my hands, I cautiously lifted one
leg over the back of the moto and slid on, my thighs grazing the backs of our
driver’s legs. Not wanting to invade his personal space, I slid back a little.
Looking back at me, the driver laughed, and told me to scoot back up so there would
be enough room for D’Arcy. As D’Arcy slid on, the driver stood up so we could
scoot forward, and then once we were well positioned, sat back down on my lap.
“What am I supposed to do with my hands?” I whispered to D’Arcy, my arms
awkwardly draped at my sides. “You can hold my knees or his arms, whatever you
prefer,” laughed D’Arcy. “But you’re pretty well cushioned by me and the
driver, so you might not even need to hold onto anything to stay on. No matter
what, don’t worry—I won’t let you fall.”
As the
driver kicked the moto on, I felt my heart speed up. He pushed the moto into
gear, and I held my breath as we took off. The second we were in motion, I let
my breath out—I was shocked at how safe and normal it all felt! I spent the
rest of the ride chatting with D’Arcy, yelling over the hum of the moto’s
engine and letting the wind hit my exposed face, after I took my visor off.
After this first experience, I quickly became an expert at moto riding—I
learned how to lean to prevent the moto from falling over when it hits a patch
of mud, as well as how to rhythmically scoot up while trudging uphill. After
the first two days, I even offered to take the backseat, as I had notably more
“butt cushioning” than D’Arcy. Now, taking motos are no problem for me—I actually
prefer them! I like feeling the cool breeze on my skin, and I like that I don’t
have to wait around for many clients or squeeze into the backseat with four
other adults. I barely think twice when mounting motos, even when I’m wearing a
tight skirt that I have to hike up to embarrassingly high levels in order to
properly straddle behind the driver.
Because my
village is so small, I don’t really need to take a moto to get around, although
sometimes after a long day at the health center I’ll accept a short ride home
from my counterpart or another person driving a moto. If I’m working in one of
the neighboring villages, I’ll happily hop on the back of a moto. A few of my
friends at the health center have their own or will rent them for the day for work,
but if we aren’t able to take one of theirs we’ll go with one of several
moto-taxi men who live in my village. However, when I go to the town nearest
me, as well as when I visit larger cities like Ngaoundere or Bafoussam, I take
motos pretty much everywhere. I’ve never felt unsafe on a moto, even when
traversing muddy hills or when traveling in the rain at night. Though I’ve
fallen off a moto 3 or 4 times, I’ve never walked away with more than scrapes
and scratches, or a skirt covered in mud. I think motos are probably my
favorite method of transportation in this country, because you don’t have to
worry about squeezing on with large numbers of people, and you get to feel the
wind on your face and arms—a wonderful reinvigoration on a hot, dry day.
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| Moto-ing through the West! |
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| Don't worry, I'd never ride a moto this full! |
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| I never ride a moto without this trusty helmet! Also this little dude is precious |
Train
As a volunteer living and working in the Adamawa, I get a
special privilege that volunteers in all the other regions don’t: I get to take
the train to and from post. Thus far, there are two train lines operated
through Camrail in the country: one that runs between Douala and Yaoundé, and
one that runs between Yaoundé and Ngaoundere, the capital of the Adamawa. There
are multiple stops along the way between each major station, and the train
traverses the Littoral, Center, East, and Adamawa regions. I’ve never taken the
Douala-Yaoundé train, so I can really only speak on my experiences with the
Yaoundé-Ngaoundere train. For this line, there is only one train a day leaving
from each end—one train leaves Yaoundé at 7:15pm, and the other leaves
Ngaoundere at 7:15pm every day. This ride usually takes around 16 to 17 hours,
though it can vary depending on multiple factors. I know one volunteer who
ended up being stuck on the train for 24 hours! Up until January, there were
four types of seats you could take on the train. The first was a cabin with two
beds, for 27,000 CFA; the second, a cabin with four beds for 25,000 CFA; the
third, a first-class seated cabin for 17,000 CFA; and the fourth, a
second-class seated cabin for 10,000 CFA. Peace Corps didn’t allow us to take second-class,
and when they were in charge of sending us one way or another, they would
always pay for the four-bed cabins for us.
The first
time I ever took the train was for site visits during pre-service training.
After living in New England, I was pretty familiar with trains, though this
experience still felt completely new and foreign to me. I remember how exciting
it was looking for and finally situating myself in my bedroom for the night
with the two other volunteers coming up with me. We sat on our beds, ate (fake)
Pringles purchased at the train station, and joked about how we felt like Harry
Potter on our way to Hogwarts for the first time. Almost immediately, a
stewardess knocked on our door and asked us if we would be interested in being
served dinner. We all happily agreed, and within thirty minutes were stuffing
ourselves with chicken, rice, and vegetables. After awhile of just hanging out,
chatting, and likely annoying the heck out of our fourth cabin-mate, we laid
down in our little platform beds and went to sleep. Though the sleep wasn’t
fantastic, we reasoned with ourselves that it was still better than it would be
if we were sitting up in a cramped cabin the whole time. Little did we know
what was in store for us several months down the road…
Unfortunately,
in October 2016, the train suffered a major accident on the tracks from Yaoundé
to Douala in a city called Eséka. Overstuffed to nearly twice the recommended
capacity, several of the 17 carriages derailed, killing 79 and injuring over
500. A later investigation revealed that nearly 13 of the 17 carriages had
faulty brakes, which was determined to be a contributing factor to the
accident. Following the accident, Cameroon was in mourning, with many angrily
asking how something like this could happen. Then, in January, following the
reports of faulty breaks, and likely in response to public outrage, Camrail
removed all currently used carriages from the tracks, and began using the older
carriages with better brakes. Though this was the best move safety-wise, it
changed the ease of train travel for the entire country. This is because there are
fewer old carriages than new ones, so getting tickets to the limited seats in
use became a major challenge. Also, the only carriages that existed on the old
train were designed to be second-class seating, so that meant no more Harry
Potter and certainly no more legroom for future travel.
Since these
changes have been implemented, I’ve tried to avoid taking the train as much as
possible. The travel certainly isn’t unbearable, though sitting in one spot
with cramped legs, constant bright lights and non-stop loud music for 16 hours
straight isn’t something I’d like to spend every weekend doing. Recently, every
time I take the night train, I’ve been taking a Zzquil as I get on, which helps
me sleep and makes the time pass by more quickly. I’m also always sure to have
a fully charged phone and a good book to keep me busy in case I can’t sleep.
Though
Ngaoundere is the major train stop in the Adamawa, it’s actually fairly far
from me. So, when I take the train, I actually get on in one of the larger
stops along the way, closer to the southern part of the Adamawa. To get to this
stop, I usually have to take two separate cars from my village, and the travel
time to this stop can be up to 5 hours including time spent waiting for cars to
fill up. If I’m taking the train up to Ngaoundere, I have to spend the night
before in the town that this second stop is located in, as the train comes
through there around 7am and I definitely could not get there in time from my
village the morning of. I also have to stay in this town overnight when coming
back down from Ngaoundere, because the train drops me off there around 10pm and
night travel is typically not recommended for volunteers. From this stop to
Yaoundé, the ride is approximately 14-16 hours, and from the same stop to
Ngaoundere the trip is around 2-3 hours. By now, you can probably see why I
don’t like taking the train super often!
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| Trying to get some sleep on the train. Thanks for lending your lap, Bob! |
Bus
Though I don’t take them frequently, buses are another
common way to get from one place to another in Cameroon. They are mainly used
between larger cities, and typically have a capacity of 75-100 passengers.
They’re similar to Greyhound buses that you’d find in the US, though there are
no toilets on board. Some buses have windows that open, while others don’t—I
recently experienced the joy of an essentially window-less bus on my way to
Kribi! I definitely like buses more than coasters, because they’re higher up,
and you get your own seat. The seats are typically in rows of two or three, and
are a decent size for one person. Some buses feature more legroom than others,
but almost all buses that I’ve taken have been fairly similar. Buses are also
typically more expensive than coasters, but still cheaper than the price of
taking a private car.
Coaster
Similar to buses, coasters are large van-bus hybrids that
can carry large numbers of people from one city to the next. However, coasters
aren’t typically as nice as buses, and not nearly as comfortable. When taking a
coaster, I’m usually squeezed into a row of seats with at least 4 other adults,
and usually a child or two. One time, I was even treated to live goats beneath
me to use as a footrest! The seats are usually pretty rickety, with thin
padding and sometimes poles or metal in odd places. I couldn’t count the number
of times I’ve been stuck with a metal pole in my back for an entire coaster
ride! Because of their structure, coasters can be particularly rough on bumpier
roads—however, the plus side of being squished like a sardine is that in these
scenarios, you’re less likely to be jolted around, and you have plenty of human
cushioning on either side of you to prevent injuries when bouncing over big
potholes.
One thing
that I really like about coasters is the opportunity they afford for you to
make new friends. The other day, on my way back to Yaoundé from Kribi, I was
seated next to an adorable girl who was probably around 3 or 4 years old. From
the moment I sat down next to her at the start of the ride, I knew that we
would become pals. As we sat in the hot sun waiting for the coaster to fill up
to leave, I anxiously looked over to see whom I was profusely sweating on. My
sweet little friend returned my gaze, and gently put her tiny hand on my damp
arm. She then began rubbing the puddles of sweat that had gathered on my arm,
all the while staring at me. I started laughing at her fascination with my slippery
self, to which she smiled back. Throughout the trip, she would occasionally pat
my arm, play with my bracelets, or just stare at me in wonder and curiosity.
Towards the end of the trip, we started getting goofy—I started tickling her
and making funny faces, which elicited the most adorable laughs and screams.
She began getting cuddly with me, and would lean on my lap and hug me in
between tickle sessions. She spoke a little bit of English, and, like most
toddlers, was excited to talk to her new friend about pretty much anything.
“Look, Auntie,” she’d scream, excitedly tapping my leg and pointing out the
window. “That man is selling oranges!” My favorite exclamation occurred when she
bumped into the seat, held her side as if it was hurt and yelped, “I hit my
wound, Auntie! Look, Auntie, look at my wound!” It was really hard not to laugh
at how cute she was, but I did my best to hold back laughter as she showed me
her tiny scrape.
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| A coaster unloading before parade time on May 20 |
So, as you can see, there are many different methods of
transportation that I’ve taken thus far in Cameroon. Obviously, there are more
types of transport that I’ve never taken before, though I hope to at some point
try all of them! Transport can sometimes be frustrating, and a bit of a hassle,
but one thing that I’ve loved about it is the sense of camaraderie between
passengers. I feel like I’ve formed so many bonds with random strangers through
travel together, simply because we are all experiencing the same frustrations,
annoyances, and tiny moments of joy at the same time. Transport often reminds
me of how good and selfless people can be—the number of times random strangers
have helped me with my bags, stood up for me when dealing with harassers on the
street, or shared snacks with me has reinforced for me the beauty and kindness
of Cameroonian people. So, despite the occasional frustrations, the old saying
that “the journey is just as important as the destination,” always holds true
for me here.
