My First Trip to the Market... Almost

We have been eating good wholesome food for our first week in Cameroon but I had no idea of where it came from or how it got to our table.  Maura had the pleasure of venturing to the market on our third day here.  She described it as “colorful chaos.”  On our fourth day Maura and I had a little time on our own while the kids slept so we decided to go for a walk.  Maura thought it would be good for the two of us to see the market together just to get an idea of the items for sale there.  Once we stepped off the mission grounds (which I had not left since arriving) I entered into the life of true Bamenda.  As we walked the tightrope down the side of the street dodging zooming motorcycles, other vehicles, pedestrians carrying anything possible on their heads and the many other hazards of the side of the road, the thought came to me that maybe we should have stayed in our little mission compound bubble.  By the time that idea came to me I had no idea of how to turn around and not get hit by some moving object so we kept on moving.

As we approached what looked like the center of town it was obvious we were on the wrong side of the street.  No big deal, I thought, just walk across Commercial Avenue to see all the vendors and stores on the other side, not quite.  Crossing the street felt like trying to swim across the Mississippi River, and this is coming from a professional jay walker in Chicago.  There were no breaks in the flow of traffic but somehow I watched several pedestrians safely cross the street.  I didn’t know whether to hold Maura’s hand for dear life or just run, I chose the former option and said a quick prayer.  Maura of course giggled her way across but somehow we made it.

Traveling down Commercial Avenue it was apparent we could probably buy whatever we wanted while breathing diesel fumes and listening to really loud music.  Amidst all this chaos Maura realized she could not find the official market she had been to the day before because she had taken a taxi there.  By the way, the taxi she took was one of those zooming motorcycles.  The area we had walk around had many store front shops but it was not the open air market.  We both decided it was time to retreat back home to our safety bubble but not before crossing the raging Mississippi again.

I will let you know I did successfully make it to the market today (day 7) and saw it for all its glory and action.  Being in the middle of the chaos felt a bit like home for me, like being back on the trading floor.  The merchants were very kind and not nearly as pushy as I have encountered in other countries.   Now I know what a task it is to get food to the table.

-Ryan