Visiting a junkyard

I am about to shock you all... two posts in record time! It's currently 6:30 am and I can't sleep, so I'll take the opportunity to be productive. I think that some of the reflections I write for my creative writing class capture pretty well the cool adventures I take here, so I'll post another and see if you like it. We visited this street in Yaoundé that is lined with shops selling used car parts, most of them specialize in on particular brand. So here was my impression:

Once we arrived at the street famous for its plethora of car parts, the smell of oil was overpowering. Grease was everywhere, spilling out onto the pavement from the dirt side of the road. It framed the doorways of the small shacks bursting with metal coils and replacement car doors. Metal coils and replacement car doors. That’s really the best I can do. To be honest, I am the furthest thing from a car connoisseur, and I felt pretty out of place at the junkyard. If you told me to pick out one piece from either of the shops we stopped at, I guarantee you I wouldn’t be able to tell you what it was. Unless it was that old seat inside the first shop. I know what that is.

Aside from my lack of knowledge about cars, the junkyard was pretty interesting. The best part was getting a first row seat to the corruption show. After a police officer showed up and fitted a big boot on the wheel of a car that was being worked on, we got to see the Cameroonian justice system in action. Cars are not supposed to be worked on in the street, and a few guys were fixing the engine. I think. But in any case, this police officer happened to notice, and he took the opportunity to make a few extra bucks. We watched the police officer and one of the men working on the car take a little stroll, and a minute later, someone came and removed the boot.

The episode reminded me slightly of Hortense and the tax collectors, although this time it benefitted both sides. The corruption in Cameroon is often talked about, yet this was the first time I had witnessed how even the smallest things can be dealt with under the table.

Pretty crazy!