TWO LAKES AND THREE FALLS- FEB. 2011

I ventured out on my first long week-end adventure with two other "women of a certain age" (our new WACA Group)to an area a few hours south of Bamenda. The Mt. Manengouba area is known for two stunning crater lakes at its summit and a nearby waterfall. We booked outselves into Villa Luciole complete with traditional huts and a baby monkey Barnaby.

The landscape was lush and tropical with exotic flowers planted around the surroundings. The views of the nearby mountains were both mysterious and inviting. At the recommendation of Heather, who had done the hike to the lakes the previous year, we opted to go by horseback - an 8 hour venture on its own. Three fairly beat-up old horses were brought out for us and 2 rather new looking english saddles. There was one traditional saddle that was mostly made up of blankets and "something" to sit on. Besides having to beat-off the countless cockroaches that had taken-up residence in the saddles, they looked pretty good.

The first stretch of the ride took us through the nearby villages until we finally reached a village on the side of the mountain. At this point, many little boys were vying to take the leads of our horses since we would be wandering on some narrow paths. As the trail had some significant ups and down, I noticed that my saddle was either sliding forward towards the horses neck or way back on her rump. This did not seem normal to me but I was assured by the guide that this was perfectly fine. I was advising Pat, who had NEVER ridden before, to keep her heels down. In spite of this, her saddle slid forward and left her hanging over the horses neck. As we approached a very steep decline she opted to walk. As the little boys with the leads to our horses sure-footed it down this rocky run-off they neglected to look behind to see how the riders were doing. I was nearly hung on a tree branch and shortly after found myself on the ground as the saddle had slid completely to one side landing me, luckily, in some soft groundcover. The next thing I heard was Heather shout as she was also dumped off of her horse in a similar manner. Pat had wisely opted to walk the steep path. The guide tightened the belly cinch of the horse and assured me that everything was fine.

After a couple of hours we arrived at a beautiful overlook onto the valley and the lakes, which still looked very far away. At this point we were facing an impossibly steep climb down, one in which we would have been crazy to try to do except on all fours. So the boys took the horses down and the three WACA ladies scrambled and edged our way down this arduous descent - so much for the ease of horseback riding!

Arriving at the lake overview,we tackled the steep steps down to the lake and picnicked at the lakeside and enjoyed the scenery. Clouds began to move in so we packed ourselves back on the horses. I think by this time, Pat had decided she trusted her feet more than the horse and she was willing to take the four hour hike back on her own two feet.

Things began to feel chaotic at some point on the return. The two adult guides vanished, leaving us with the little boys who had little consideration for what a few WACA ladies might need for comfort and safety. They seemed to chose the worst paths so once again Heather and I had another fall. This time mine was a hard land with saddle slipping sideways towards the downhill side. I consider myself lucky that the horse did not fall on top of me. The guide reappeared, recinched the saddle and somehow talked me into getting back on the horse. "Fool me once, shame on you- fool me twice...." Well, there I was again on horseback, frozen neck and all. The third fall was more benign. I slowly and (I am told) gracefully slid up onto the horses neck, hung on for awhile until he gave me an irritated shake and then toppled over his head. The remainder of the ride home involved the guide and myself continuously and scrupuously observing the saddle to make sure it wasn't slipping in any particular direction. Besides getting caught in a huge rainstorm the remainder of the ride home was uneventful. The conclusion I have made is that they either didn't have all the parts of the Englsh saddle in tact, or they didn't know how to cinch an English saddle. I consider myself fortunate to be living to tell the story!

One of the very endearing things about Cameroon is the names that people carry. They are often given both a Christian name and a village-related name. People know immediately if they come from the same tribal area by their last names which also means that they will be speaking a common dialect - one of 220 in this country. Some of the names that I have run into are Divine, Kindness, Precious, Godswill, Godsgift, Patience. You have to like a person that has a name like this! Pigeon English, I am told, has a vocabulary of only 1000 words. So subsequently words are doubled to make the point. Such as smal smal is gradually, and sofli sofli is quietly, or wel wel is really well, or fayn fayn is very fine and kwik kwik is quickly. Even foods are named like this such as Fu-fu (staple made from corn) or Chin-chin (snack made from flour) or Jamba-jamba(green vegetable) and finally, my favorite Puff-puff (a fried donut-like bread). There are many words that are recognizable and I can guess the gist of the meaning, such as-"Hu go bi president fo amerika neks taym?" (who will be president in america next time?)Then there are simple sentences like "wuna no hambok mi" which leave me clueless (don't bother me). So in signing off, I will leave you with these words of wisdom- " Mek yu res smol, mek yu chop fayn fayn, waka fayn. ( Rest well, eat well and go well.)