I’ll try to finish posting about our Middle East trip soon, but first I wanted to write about the trip we took last week. One of the science teachers at ASOY was a Peace Corps volunteer in Cameroon almost 20 years ago, and during that time he lived in a village called Bangem. (Pronounced bahn-GEHM) Every year at Thanksgiving, he goes back to visit his friends and the family he stayed with in the village, and this year we tagged along. (There were a total of about ten of us in the group.)
If you zoom in on the map, you can see roughly where we were. The village itself is not on the map, but Bafang is, and that’s relatively close—Bangem is right on the border between the Littoral and Southwest Provinces, and is home to the Bakossi people.
The roads were good for most of the drive, but the last hour or so was on a dirt road that was pretty bumpy.On the way there, we stopped at some waterfalls called the Chutes d’Ekom. Supposedly one of the Tarzan movies was filmed here—I’m not sure if that’s true, but it certainly looks plausible, given the area’s lush rainforest. The falls are about 80 meters high, and even though it’s technically the dry season, they were still quite impressive.
We hiked down to get a closer view. There was so much spray that you could see a rainbow from just about every angle.
The spray also made the ground a goopy mess, and we were all soaked and muddy by the end of the walk. Thank goodness for Chacos!
The slope where we’d been walking was blanketed in purple flowers. We knew we wouldn’t be able to capture the way they were rippling in the breeze, and our camera was getting misted over from the falls, but we tried taking pictures anyway because it was just so beautiful.
We hiked to the top of the falls, too, which provided this view of the Nkam River. I can picture Tarzan running around down there—don’t you think?
Before piling back into the van, we stopped for a drink at this little bar. There are great spots like this all over Cameroon.
We hiked down to get a closer view. There was so much spray that you could see a rainbow from just about every angle. 
The spray also made the ground a goopy mess, and we were all soaked and muddy by the end of the walk. Thank goodness for Chacos! 
The slope where we’d been walking was blanketed in purple flowers. We knew we wouldn’t be able to capture the way they were rippling in the breeze, and our camera was getting misted over from the falls, but we tried taking pictures anyway because it was just so beautiful. 
We hiked to the top of the falls, too, which provided this view of the Nkam River. I can picture Tarzan running around down there—don’t you think? 
Before piling back into the van, we stopped for a drink at this little bar. There are great spots like this all over Cameroon. 
Lodging can be pretty hit or miss here, but the place we stayed in Bangem—the Prestige Hotel—was clean and cheerfully painted. We even had hot water occasionally! In front of the hotel was a replica of a traditional cooking hut, which is where Tom grilled in the evenings. It was so nice to be out of the city and surrounded by green space.
The first night we were there, Tom (who is a great cook anyway) really outdid himself by making a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal for twenty people. Turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce (from the embassy commissary), stuffing…
…and even pumpkin pie from scratch! Mmm…comfort food.
The first night we were there, Tom (who is a great cook anyway) really outdid himself by making a home-cooked Thanksgiving meal for twenty people. Turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce (from the embassy commissary), stuffing… 
…and even pumpkin pie from scratch! Mmm…comfort food. 
The next day we embarked on what was my favorite part of the trip: a hike to the Manengouba Crater Lakes. It was a steep climb up dirt roads from the town…
…but the scenery along the way was stunning.
The highest point of the climb is about 8,000 feet (which is pretty high for Cameroon), and just when we thought it couldn’t possibly be any further, we came over a ridge and saw the crater stretching out before us. It’s totally impossible to recreate that feeling—I’ve never seen a landscape quite like it before.
For the last leg of the hike, we walked across the vast, grassy caldera, surrounded by the rim of the ancient volcano on all sides.
Fulani herdsmen graze their cattle up here, and we saw one bull with birds on its back—so National Geographic. J
The first lake you come to is known as Woman Lake, and you’re allowed to swim in and camp next to it. Some of the teachers swam, but it was a little chilly for us, so we just relaxed and enjoyed the view.
From there, you walk up another ridge (you can see the stone stairs near the top)…
…to look down at Man Lake. It’s forbidden to swim in this lake because of its “bad juju.” Given the sharp drop down from the ridge, we were happy to comply with this rule.
This is a shot looking back across the crater. You can see that ridge we were coming over that I described earlier, but it still doesn’t give you the full effect. You can also see by the sign that there are a million different spellings for every location in Cameroon. I guess that’s what happens when you have a country speaking French, English, and over 250 tribal languages—not to mention all the different dialects!
…but the scenery along the way was stunning. 
The highest point of the climb is about 8,000 feet (which is pretty high for Cameroon), and just when we thought it couldn’t possibly be any further, we came over a ridge and saw the crater stretching out before us. It’s totally impossible to recreate that feeling—I’ve never seen a landscape quite like it before. 
For the last leg of the hike, we walked across the vast, grassy caldera, surrounded by the rim of the ancient volcano on all sides. 
Fulani herdsmen graze their cattle up here, and we saw one bull with birds on its back—so National Geographic. J 
The first lake you come to is known as Woman Lake, and you’re allowed to swim in and camp next to it. Some of the teachers swam, but it was a little chilly for us, so we just relaxed and enjoyed the view. 
From there, you walk up another ridge (you can see the stone stairs near the top)… 
…to look down at Man Lake. It’s forbidden to swim in this lake because of its “bad juju.” Given the sharp drop down from the ridge, we were happy to comply with this rule. 
This is a shot looking back across the crater. You can see that ridge we were coming over that I described earlier, but it still doesn’t give you the full effect. You can also see by the sign that there are a million different spellings for every location in Cameroon. I guess that’s what happens when you have a country speaking French, English, and over 250 tribal languages—not to mention all the different dialects! 
On our last full day, we went on three short hikes just outside of Bangem. The first was through a coffee plantation…
…across a stream…
…and past some giant bamboo…
…to a volcanic spring with carbon dioxide bubbling out of it. Apparently the thing to do is to taste the water. We did and can report that it was indeed carbonated but other than that tasted like any other muddy spring. Not a highlight.
Once we returned to the road, we continued on foot for reasons that you can see in this photo. Tom said trucks from the electric company made these huge ruts, and now only motorcycles can safely drive on them.
I know I’ve said this several times, but this whole region is just beautiful. We passed this local primary school while we were walking—quite a view from the schoolyard!
Near the village of Enyandog, we climbed down a hill to see this vine bridge Tom had told us about. It seemed sturdy enough, but we didn’t linger after the photo-op.
Tom had seen the bridge enough times that he showed us where to go and then told us to meet him farther up the road. We found him at this bar and joined him for some sugar cane and warm beer. Here’s our whole ramshackle crew.
Tom seems to know everyone in Bangem and the neighboring villages, and he’d managed to get in touch with an old friend, the chief of one of the little towns, who met up with us here. Tom is on the left in this photo, then the chief, Anjana, and James.
…across a stream… 
…and past some giant bamboo… 
…to a volcanic spring with carbon dioxide bubbling out of it. Apparently the thing to do is to taste the water. We did and can report that it was indeed carbonated but other than that tasted like any other muddy spring. Not a highlight. 
Once we returned to the road, we continued on foot for reasons that you can see in this photo. Tom said trucks from the electric company made these huge ruts, and now only motorcycles can safely drive on them. 
I know I’ve said this several times, but this whole region is just beautiful. We passed this local primary school while we were walking—quite a view from the schoolyard! 
Near the village of Enyandog, we climbed down a hill to see this vine bridge Tom had told us about. It seemed sturdy enough, but we didn’t linger after the photo-op. 
Tom had seen the bridge enough times that he showed us where to go and then told us to meet him farther up the road. We found him at this bar and joined him for some sugar cane and warm beer. Here’s our whole ramshackle crew. 
Tom seems to know everyone in Bangem and the neighboring villages, and he’d managed to get in touch with an old friend, the chief of one of the little towns, who met up with us here. Tom is on the left in this photo, then the chief, Anjana, and James. 
Our last hike of the day was to another waterfall. First we waded across the top of it.
Looking down, you can see there are several levels.
We eventually scrambled down (really just sliding on our hands and knees straight down the steep slope, clinging to roots and vines where we could) to the lowest part of the falls. There we were finally rewarded for wearing our swimsuits under our clothes all day. The water was absolutely freezing, but it felt great.
We climbed out on the other side through a coffee farm, and back up at the road we had this nice view looking down toward Bangem.
Looking down, you can see there are several levels. 
We eventually scrambled down (really just sliding on our hands and knees straight down the steep slope, clinging to roots and vines where we could) to the lowest part of the falls. There we were finally rewarded for wearing our swimsuits under our clothes all day. The water was absolutely freezing, but it felt great. 
We climbed out on the other side through a coffee farm, and back up at the road we had this nice view looking down toward Bangem. 
That last evening in the village, we got to go to Tom’s Peace Corps family’s house—about a fifteen-minute walk from the hotel. Several kids led the way, and these two little girls walked arm-in-arm the whole time, whispering and giggling to each other.
In many Cameroonian villages, people make their houses out of mud bricks, but in this region there is plenty of timber, so they make them out of wood. They look much sturdier than the ones we’ve seen closer to Yaoundé.
It’s interesting because everyone in the village has cell phones and TVs, but many things are still done in the traditional way. For example, the women still spend most of the day preparing meals over a fire in a smoky kitchen.
And they still pound fufu by hand every day, which they let us all try (although it was pretty much done by that time). As you’d expect, it was really hard work—I can see why so many of the women here have such buff arms.
The houses are constructed with several rooms branching off a central, open corridor.
We crowded into the dining room for the wonderful meal they had prepared. The white balls are fufu (one batch made from yams and the other from cassava); in the very back is a bowl of grilled fish; the dark green dish is soup made from cocoa yam leaves and hot peppers; and the two bowls near the front are pieces of fish in two variations of agousi (sp?), which is made from pumpkin and eaten over rice.
The way to eat the soup is to tear off a bit of fufu, stick it on your fingertip, dip it in the bowl, and pop it in your mouth. The whole meal was delicious.
We returned to Yaoundé the following morning, stopping along the way for soya sandwiches (made with heavily seasoned beef that tastes like jerky but less chewy). It was a great trip—we’re so thankful Tom shared this place that means so much to him.
In many Cameroonian villages, people make their houses out of mud bricks, but in this region there is plenty of timber, so they make them out of wood. They look much sturdier than the ones we’ve seen closer to Yaoundé. 
It’s interesting because everyone in the village has cell phones and TVs, but many things are still done in the traditional way. For example, the women still spend most of the day preparing meals over a fire in a smoky kitchen. 
And they still pound fufu by hand every day, which they let us all try (although it was pretty much done by that time). As you’d expect, it was really hard work—I can see why so many of the women here have such buff arms. 
Johnson (whose older brother just died, making him the patriarch of the family) showed us around the farm. Here’s Dusty looking into the pigpen.
The houses are constructed with several rooms branching off a central, open corridor. 
We crowded into the dining room for the wonderful meal they had prepared. The white balls are fufu (one batch made from yams and the other from cassava); in the very back is a bowl of grilled fish; the dark green dish is soup made from cocoa yam leaves and hot peppers; and the two bowls near the front are pieces of fish in two variations of agousi (sp?), which is made from pumpkin and eaten over rice. 
The way to eat the soup is to tear off a bit of fufu, stick it on your fingertip, dip it in the bowl, and pop it in your mouth. The whole meal was delicious. 
We returned to Yaoundé the following morning, stopping along the way for soya sandwiches (made with heavily seasoned beef that tastes like jerky but less chewy). It was a great trip—we’re so thankful Tom shared this place that means so much to him. One last thing that is completely unrelated to all of this. A few weeks ago, the school had its annual talent show, Thursday Night Live (I posted some photos and videos of it last year). Brian has been taking guitar lessons, but at this point, he’d only had about five. Somehow he got talked into accompanying Marie, a little second-grader, for the song she wrote called “Best Friend” (about her friend Angela, not Brian). J The whole thing was adorable, and I tried to video it, but I was laughing so hard that the camera shook the entire time. Still, it’s definitely worth a watch. The panicked faces Brian makes at the beginning are about his delayed chord changes, by the way, not Marie’s singing!
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