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.

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.

Moto-ing through the West!

Don't worry, I'd never ride a moto this full!

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!

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.

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.