It was just another day in the Maroua Market...

We live in Meskine, a small village in the Far North province of Cameroon. We can buy many of the things we need for food right here every Wednesday. Other small items are available every day right outside the walls of our hospital where a small market has sprung up. (That’s a blog entry for another day!) But, if we want produce and canned goods resembling what we get in the US, we have to travel 15 minutes to the provincial capital Maroua.

We shop in the “tame” market that is more expatriate-friendly where there are aisles of little “boutiques”, and I mean little. The smallest bedroom in your house would be larger than most. In these boutiques are fabric, electronics, groceries, housewares, fresh veggies and fruit, clothing—you name it. If you imagine a flea market with lots of small stalls for vendors, you will only begin to get the picture. This is not a place for a claustrophobic as the smaller aisles are no more than 4 feet wide, and often full of shoppers, beggars, vendors, and products being pushed, pulled, or carried (often on the head) to nearby stalls. A metal roof way up overhead lets sunlight and rain in depending on the season. And for some reason, possibly to minimize the dust, the dirt floors are full of puddles. So there are a number of obstacles to maneuver around.

The market is definitely a social event/place/party/job/necessity—kind of like the mall…..with puddles. Usually though, I’m focused on my list, my bag of purchases, my wallet (no plastic here—all cash!) and my surroundings because of pickpockets. In any given trip, I’ll visit four or five veggie and fruit stands, Mahdi’s (the Maroua Walmart, 10’X10’ with products up to the ceiling) or Ibrahim’s (a luxurious 20’ x 30’ with rolling carts!) for more Western products, the bakery for bread, Nziko for office supplies, a vendor on the street that sells small, roasted chickens (dubbed “parakeets” because of similar size), and occasionally a visit to a fabric store to buy material to give to a tailor for a new dress.

No trip is complete without a visit to the indigenous market which is more open and a little more risky as a result. Here we pass tables piled with slabs of freshly butchered beef, goat, and lamb meat with the ever-present fly population buzzing around them. The first stop is usually for meat to get the best selection and the least-visited by flies. A little deeper in the market we find fresh veggies like eggplant, zucchini, peppers, cabbage, mint, fresh ginger, and sometimes even apples--things that are sold in the “tame” market, but with lower prices here. As I was buying a pineapple, I was speaking Fulfulde to my vendor. Not having heard me, a fellow next to him asked him why he was speaking Fulfulde to me, a white person. When I stared at him with my laser beam look, he sheepishly asked, “ Oh, do you understand Fulfulde? Heh, heh.” Although I have much to learn about shopping in Fulfulde, it is a wonderful bridge-builder to friendly shopping here. and maybe even better prices.

This is usually as far as I have ever gone into the indigenous market because of the “unsafe” reputation other expatriates have given it. So how did I later find myself deep in the heart of this place against my better judgment?

Meet me here tomorrow and I’ll finish the story!

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