While hanging out in Limbe, we tried to split our time
pretty equally between beach and town. I
was hesitant to book the hotel for three nights, rather than just two, knowing
that Mom gets antsy and needs to have a jam-packed schedule (this turned out to
be a very difficult obstacle for her to overcome during her two weeks in
Cameroon, where things move at their own pace).
Nevertheless, once we got her in the water, she was quite at
ease. The three of us spent hours
jumping over the waves, under the waves, through the waves. Mike and I particularly enjoyed pretending to
be sea-trash, floating wherever the water took us, log-rolling on the sand as
the waves pushed us in and out. I
haven’t met any PCVs who I can comfortably have such stupid fun with, so being sea-trash was truly a special moment.
But the beach isn't the only highlight of Limbe, and neither
is the Wildlife Center, despite my mother’s love for monkeys.
Each day when going into town, we would stand on the side of
the road and wait for a car…essentially hitchhiking. This is such a normal way for people to
travel around here, that I’m sure I had never even mentioned it to anyone, even
in a phone call. Sure, sometimes we’d
get picked up by a licensed cab and squish in alongside 3 large mamas in the
backseat and another in the front (making for a total of 7 passengers), but
occasionally we’d get picked up by a random man just willing to do us a favor.
Once we got to down, our main destination was typically Down
Beach. This is where Mom and Mike ate
their first “poisson braissé" – grilled fish, eaten whole, and eaten with
your hands. (Never a fan of fish, I sought out beans and rice nearby). We ate at a table on the beach, sipping
beers, and occasionally bargaining with the salesmen who came by offering CDs,
souvenirs, and other snacks.
Mom particularly had fun at the market. We were on a mission to buy pagne – traditional
African printed fabric. As we popped in
from one boutique to another, I think my family was both shocked and amused by
my ruthless bargaining. No matter the
price, I will always try to get it lower.
(Much to my dismay, we got no great deals, and no free gifts. But at least we had some laughs).
Walking along in the market, Mom would say, “what’s that
woman cooking?” Kosai! White bean beignets! Basically ground-up white beans that are then
deep-fried, they taste chicken nuggets. Being
high in calories, they are very popular in the Muslim community during Ramadan,
and were a staple dinner for me last June (thank goodness for running and for skirts
with stretch waistbands). I excitedly
bought three for us to share as we continued to roam the market.
And that was Limbe! Lots of swimming, monkeys, fish, bargaining,
beer, wine, and card playing. Not a bad
time at all!
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