Third Full Day In Calabar

My third full day in Calabar. Yes, my money is dwindling and I'm still stuck in Calabar. It seems that I get my timing all wrong in Nigeria. I wind up doing everything on the weekends when things are closed and not on weekdays when stuff is open. Oh well. C'est le vie.

I headed out and when I gave my key to the receptionist, she waxed Jesusy on me. She asked me if I love Jesus. I assured her that I did. She said that day of judgement would come soon and anyone not right with Jesus would be in deep doo-doo--not those words exactly. I assured her that Jesus and I are like two peas in a pod. She said she would have a tract for me when I returned. I thanked her and left. This Jesus stuff is driving me crazy here. But she has my key so I can't exactly tell her that I think Jesus is dead and gone and won't be there when I die--that when I die, I'll simply cease to exist. And there will be no judgement--those who have been wronged and look forward to some cosmic comeuppance should just face reality that bad people get away with bad stuff and there will be no compensation in heaven.

I headed toward the Cameroonian consulate and on the way I passed the Intercontental Bank. In Kano, they had currency exchange and the man at the motor park had told me that the Banks in Nigeria can exchange any currency so I was hoping I would be able to get some CFA for my visa. But they didn't have any CFA. This was bad because the visa costs N17800 (US$140) when paying in Naira but CFA 61000 (US$120) when paying in CFA. So naturally I wanted to get some CFA, but no go. So I headed on. I still needed passport photos. The visa requires three photos. Just south of the consulate, there is a place called Mr. Fan which has ice cream, fast food, and a photographer. I sat there and waited while a woman processed the pictures of a previous customer, a sailor who wanted his picture put on a more romantic background. When she was done with him, she took a few snaps of me and then used a program called Photo Désirée to remove the shadows. Soon I had 8 new passport photos, though I was pretty sweaty and certainly didn't look my best.

Those in hand, I headed to the consulate where I waited for the vice-consul to arrive. He did and we started the application. It was a new experience for me. Until now, all my applications were just forms to fill out. But Cameroon requires a handwritten letter requesting a visa to avoid abuse. So I had to write out a handwritten letter requesting a visa. I wasn't sure what to write and I asked if he had a model for me to copy. He got out a sheet of paper and wrote out a model for me. The English was very different from American English. It went something like this--though I'm not exactly sure since the grammar is not correct in America and I can't necessarily remember what is essentially nonsense. "Dear Sir, I humbly submit my application for a visa to enter your country as a tourist as I request an entry clearance into your country. While waiting my application, please receive my sincerest greetings."

He was surprised my expected date of entry. Wouldn't I rather take a boat? No, I prefer to go by land. He said the boat was much better. I asked if the land crossing was closed due to rain? No, but he predicted I would find it...stressful.

Then I counted out my N17800 and headed out. He told me to return at 3pm. I went to the Molay internet cafe but it was full, so I had a beer at Freddy's and when I returned, there was an empty spot. It was a very slow connection. Enough to do my blog but way underpowered for even talkingpointsmemo.com which is not too bandwidth intensive. Forget about email or facebook. I spent an hour watching the browser gradually load all the pages and accomplished nothing more than uploading my blogs. Quite a feat.

After that, I headed back to the hotel and rested. At 2:45 I planned to head out to the Cameroon consulate and then head to the museum where I figured they might have postcards. Lonely Planet recommends bringing a flashlight when there is no power and there hadn't been any power other than local generators the whole time in Calabar. So I brought my Freeplay Indigo lantern--one of my most precious possesions--to the Cameroonian consulate. I got there just at 3pm, paying N80 for a mototaxi, and waited. There were a number of people there in the waiting area. They naturally noticed my lantern. I showed them all the features--the work light, the lantern, the crank to recharge it. One guy told me to dash him the lantern. I told him I brought it with me because I needed it and couldn't dash it. He left and another guy told me to dash him the lantern and he would buy me a local one, but again I refused. I need my lantern. People in Calabar are used to not having power, but I need my lantern where I know where it is in my backpack and can find it, and if it is out of juice, I can just crank it and get light. It it essential for me. I'm happy that they liked it and I can certainly see a huge market for the Freeplay Indigo in Nigeria. Maybe someday they will be common there.

The vice-consul came and as is often the case, he said I requested less than 30 days so he gave me extra days. I thanked him and told him I looked forward to visiting Cameroon. Then I hailed a moto-taxi to the National Museum for N70.

It is a pretty good museum. I was pretty tired as I was fighting a cold and regret that I blew by some pretty interesting looking exhibits. Of course, take that with a grain of salt as my favorite channel in the US is C-SPAN. There is an extensive history of the area from slavery to the transition to the palm oil exports. The British rule takes quite a role. A very nice museum. However, they didn't have postcards. Dammit! I headed back to the market where almost nobody in the stationary stores even ever heard of this odd concept--the post card. I gave up and headed back to my room and ripped apart some cards I got suckered into buying by a super-persistent merchant in Ouagaodougou to make some makeshift postcards.

I decided to head to the Metropolitan for another air conditioned stay with ice cold Stars. I wrote out my post cards and then read Veronika Décide de Mourir while the British guy finished up his Robert Ludlum novel. After a while the FIFA girls soccer match came on. Japan vs. Germany. Japan is my second home so I rooted for them and after a while they scored. But it was only half time and time for me to leave to I don't know how the match turned out. I went to the reception at the Metropolitan and asked where their outgoing mail was. Thay have no outgoing mail. They acted as if the idea that I (or anybody) would want to send outgoing mail is totally insane. I was shocked. The major business hotel in Calabar does NOT have a way to send outgoing mail from the hotel? Shocking! I headed home.

Tuesday, November 25, 2008 21:45 Cameroon local time