Douala

Even if i was considering Douala a bit like LA in California: a big, dirty and noisy town where there is not that much to do, and if I said that i would keep this destination for the day i have nowhere else to go (and i never went to LA, menaing that there are many other places to go to in Camifornia!) , i finally went to the economical capital of Cameroon last weekend.

Actually, whereas most of the people I met don't like this city: too big (4 millions inhabitants), too noisy and dirty, too much traffic, too much rain, too hot, and above all, too dangerous, i didn't hate it that much.
Maybe i was lucky to be hosted by a friend in the suburb, it wasn't that hot (no more than 30°C i think) and it was raining only at night. But we did stayed stuck in the traffic twice during about an hour...

The first night, Kat, an american volunteer from the Peace Corps, invited us to a goodbye party at a friend's place. It was in Bonapriso, the "white " district, where all the foreigners working for bing companies stay safe behind their high and garded walls, in huge houses, with private cook, and driver, own car and swimming pool, hot water (very necessary when you know how hot the weather is in Douala...), internet, etc. i was about to say "like in their own country", but it would be wrong, when you know that most of these foreigners are young people that have just graduated from school, and have more responsibilities (and money and material) than what they would have for their first job in Europe, America or even Asia.
An exemple: as i was telling a guy that i liked the cakes that people sell in the streets, he said he had never tried because he and his colleagues never eat in the streets, and prefer buy things at Casino (French supermarket) to cook at home.
When I ask them if they dont feel left out from cameroonian people and culture, they say they dont care because they dont stay with cameroonians that much anyways...
And when i try to explain that it's because of their behaviour that we usually hear "the white has money" or "where is my gift?", even when we earn as much as africans as a volunteer (and sometimes less...), they reply that they get used to this way of life.
I prefer to stop talking, they'll see when they go back to their country, cant find a job and even if they do, wont have their own driver and cook...

Unfortunately i didn't get the chance to visit a lot because my friend was sick (malaria i guess). i just met a nice Couchsurfer who took us in his car and showed us some parts of the city.
but no one had a camera that weekend, so i dont have any picture (but honestly, there is absolutely nothing to see in Douala, and even if there was, i wouldn't take the risk of using a digital camera...)