Green beans by the Fistful

It’s easy to look at Cameroon and think that development is a completely unattainable goal. The roads (where they exist) are terrible, I’ve never found a place with consistent running water, and we just learned that Cameroon is one of the three countries (for the moment) where polio is endemic. It can be a frustrating place to live and an even more frustrating place to attempt development work. But life in Cameroon continues to surprise me. A few days after Earth Day, a ban on non-biodegradable plastic bags went into effect (and let’s be real, there are no biodegradable bags here). What does this mean? Until the ban became active, plastic bags (or “plastiques”) were everywhere. All stores, bakeries, and market mamas gave them out like candy. Shopkeepers would look at me suspiciously when I refused their offer of a plastique for an item that clearly didn’t require one. Bananas, biscuits, bags of pasta, it didn’t matter. Plastiques for everything. Market mamas would put individual items in one small bag and then give me another larger one to put all my items in together. It was a tad excessive.

            Another relevant note is that Cameroonians are (in my experience) completely unfamiliar with the concept of waste. By this I mean that very little is wasted, but the small amount of trash that is produced is mismanaged. The main landmark in my neighborhood during stage was a giant trash heap that marked the entrance to our quarter. Trash burning is commonplace and I’ve learned to hold my breath when driving past a smoking pile of litter when travelling. Some of the larger cities have trash collection services but these services merely transport the trash for more effective (and less obtrusive) incineration on the edge of the city. And it’s very common to walk past any moving body of water and see the banks littered with bottles, plastiques, and whatever other kinds of trash the nearby residents produced. Interestingly, Cameroonians see plastiques as the main component of their waste problems. It’s true that they are plentiful and visible, but I would argue that the direct dumping of waste in nearby bodies of water (that some residents bathe in) is a more dangerous problem. But that’s just me.

            Anyway, I began seeing signs announcing the impending ban in early April and I didn’t quite know what to expect. How could it possibly be enforced? And since when do Cameroonians abide by rules concerning trash? I’ve seen giant piles of garbage immediately surrounding signs stating “no dumping, penalty of 5000 francs ($10). To be honest, my expectations for the plastic bag ban were quite low.

            The changes since the advent of the ban have been rapid and widespread. I went to the bakery and was handed my bread wrapped up in paper. Some of my purchases are handed directly to me without any offer of a wrapper. This doesn’t result in any problems for many items, but there are exceptions. One of my market mamas took the ban to a new level when she picked up a fistful of green beans and dropped them directly into my reusable market bag. That seemed a little strange. Some of the women at the market are holding onto their remaining clear wrappers and only doling them out upon request (and while hiding behind their stall). Fanny packs haven’t been this popular since the 90’s in America.

            While the impact of this ban remains to be seen, I’m proud of Cameroon for making this commitment towards the environment and for the number of vendors who have adjusted their practices accordingly. There are many aspects of development that seem overwhelming and hopeless but it’s important to remember that change is a gradual process and is best broken down into small and manageable steps. So happy belated Earth Day to all of you and let’s hope that this ban sticks (although a loosening of the policy when it comes to green beans would be appreciated).

            In other news, I travelled to Yaoundé last week for my first HIV committee meeting. Travel can be exhausting in this country, but the ride down was smooth and passed without major incident. Although I would like to make a note of the conversation I overheard between two of the other volunteers that I travelled down with right after we entered the bus:

PCV 1: You know what’s great?

PCV 2: No, what?

PCV 1: Buses in America.

           Truer words were never spoken. We took the VIP bus on the way down, which meant that we each had our own seat and the bus left on a specific schedule. But my return trip wasn’t quite as easy. The VIP bus only runs between Yaoundé and Bamenda, and I decided to stop over at a friend’s post for a night on my way back. This meant that we instead had to take an ordinary bus and just hope for the best. The trip started off well enough: we got to the agency and bought tickets right before the bus left. And to our surprise, we even found ourselves on a full sized bus (as opposed to the standard 18 person vans crammed with 24 people or so). Unfortunately, the bus broke down about a little over two hours into our journey and didn’t make any progress for the next hour and a half. We were still stuck in the Center region, home of the mout-mouts (worse than mosquitoes) and the blazing sun. Not a good place to be stranded without any parts to repair the bus. We heard rumors of looking for water to put in the bus, but I honestly have no idea what the problem was.

It should be stated here that Cameroonians tend to be assertive people. There’s no argument that doesn’t welcome the opinion of all people within a ten-foot proximity, and most are quick to share their feelings on the matter. But a funny thing happened when the bus broke down (and didn’t seem to be making any progress towards repair): no one seemed rattled at all. My two Peace Corps friends and I were the most impatient and frustrated ones on the bus, which literally never happens. The only explanation that I can give is that bus malfunctions are just so commonplace that they’re almost expected. Why get upset over something that is such a normal part of life?

But this situation was unacceptable for my friends and I and after two hours we decided that we had waited long enough. My friend Cloud decided that the only acceptable option would be to take a private car (read, hitchhike) the rest of the way. I was doubtful that any car would stop and pick us up, but I was quickly surprised. Less than five minutes after we exited the bus and stood out on the road, a nice car passed and agreed to take us along with them to Bafoussam, our original destination. We quickly vetted them for potential dangers and decided that they looked harmless enough. And we were right. They were pastors and one of them was a notable from Cloud’s village. They were more than welcoming and took us exactly where we wanted to go, even though it was a little bit out of their way. They didn’t ask for our phone numbers (an uncommon occurrence) and refused to accept any money. Honestly, we were probably safer in their car that we were on a marginally functioning bus. As I said earlier, life in Cameroon continues to surprise me.

TL,DR: Cameroon is working on phasing plastic bags out of daily life. The effectiveness has taken me by surprise and as an Agribusiness volunteer (we have new titles now!) I see it as a step in the right direction.