This day or another (pt. 2)
This is where everything just went kaboom; I think this is the first time something really got to me so much that I was ready to break down.
It’s not that often that a man decides to fix dinner and dessert from scratch for his woman, or any woman for that matter, and expect nothing in return. This was to be my special thing or “gift” to her and it went SPLAT! in my face. Well maybe you’ll read this and think it’s not too bad, but you’re not here.
Once we returned from the market I immediately went into the kitchen to begin my miniature feast. I first blended the sugar and butter, then sifted in the flour and added the eggs. All’s going well at this point. Everything meshed together, even though I was to add the eggs before the flour. Oh well, recipes were made to be altered. Done and in the oven.
Also washed the dishes quickly since the water was still running. This was going to be a delectable dinner. Now it’s time to cut up the vegetables while the dessert is in the oven and water is boiling on the stove so we can have additional drinking water in the filter.
At one point I had to check the stove to be certain nothing was over cooking. This oven is very weird. There are two settings; high and low, and neither setting is liste in a cookbook.
Continuing to chop up vegetables and preparing to begin my work on the stove, I look over to the oven and realize I need to check on things. Don’t want to burn anything and don’t want to over bake it either. At that moment I’m realizing there’s no heat in the oven. Why? Aw crap, the gas bottle has run out. Akilah’s worst fear didn’t happen to her during her preparation of a special dinner, it happened to me during the preparation of mine!
Right now I’m heated! I’m halfway through my dinner and there’s no gas in the gas bottle. Yeah, the gas bottle. There are no natural gas lines running through the country. Why do that? It only makes sense!
So now it’s 7:00 pm and we’re walking through the streets looking for a replacement. All this time we’re thinking we can just go to one of the gas stations and switch the bottle. Nope. We don’t have the same name brand. Not that we know it, because you can’t see anything written on the bottle; but somehow the workers of two of the gas stations near us knew this much.
One guy tells us where to go trade the bottle and myself, Akilah and the “pousse-pousse” boy we hired are walking to the store where they sell them. Who do we think we are going somewhere at 7:30 in the evening to buy something? Do we think we’re in the states? We get to the store and its locked. The guy in the store next door said someone should be in there; he says this even though we’re seeing a padlock on the front. Now what?
So feeling a little dejected now I’m wishing I knew a little more french so I could express my frustration to everyone we need to speak to. We head back to the gas stations around by the apartment. My thought was maybe they would rent one of their large bottles to us since we don’t have their brand; or better yet, maybe they’ll sell us a small one.
Why did the guy at the Total gas station tell us the small bottles are sold for 20000 CFAs each. WHAT! Geez, just keep shoving stuff down my mouth will you! Why would we pay 20000 CFAs for one small bottle, when to refill a large one it’s only gonna cost us 4400 CFAs?
So we head to the station across from us, thinking, surely they’ll assist us with our need. Wrong! The guy there gives us some cockamany story about them no longer selling the bottles, you can only trade them in, but it has to be their brand. So thinking logically (SIDEBAR: logical thought processes seem to have no relevance in the areas of this country we’ve been to thus far) Akilah asks what does someone just moving to Cameroon do? They’ll have no gas bottles to trade and no one wants to sell the appropriate one to them.
His answer made me think Cameroonians are born to give programmed responses anyway, and anything different than that does not compute. He basically said that they would only be able to trade the bottles, because they don’t sell them any longer. Okay, you said that the first time, just answer the question.
Frustrated at the lack of understanding (and what seems to be unwillingness to make some kind of money), we decide to head across the street to the house. I leave Akilah and the “pousse-pousse” boy downstairs as I run up to get 200 CFAs to give to the kid. It was our thank you for walking with us to try and solve the problem. Only if he knew how I could finish my meal.
When I returned downstairs, Akilah was speaking with one of our neighbors from the rear. He informed her that most everyone has stopped selling the gas bottles, but if we needed to get something tonite and not wait until the morning when one of the two stores that will trade it for us is open, we could suggest leaving a deposit and returning the bottle when the gas is gone.
Though I’d already mentioned to Akilah about renting from these places and she thought it very unlikely to happen, we went back to try anyway. Why? The guy gave us the same responses until he finally said, something like “Oh, I can’t make that decision, only my manager has the authority to do that.” And guess what? The manager is off duty!
So we walk to the Total station to see if they’ll do it. Nope. Not them either. This guy, however, is a little more helpful with his responses. When he realizes Akilah is not francophone and doesn’t understand some of what he’s saying he takes us in the office to show what he means. Either way I don’t understand it, they’re speaking in french!
He brings out the smaller bottle and shows us how it works. It’s about a third of the size as a large one and has a connector that serves as the outlet and a little rimmed object that serves as the stove top. Essentially you’re paying for these two items, because once the gas is out, you take the bottle and get it replaced. Question; who in the “ham fat” want’s to pay 20000 CFAs for a bottle that can’t be any larger than the largest bottle of detergent in the states.
None of this makes sense. Why can’t I just have access to gas? All I want to do is finish dinner. At the rate we’re going we won’t eat until tomorrow afternoon, and I’m unsually hungry. I just want a romantic dinner for two, and can’t even get it done. What a time to run out of gas.
After speaking with the neighbor, we head back upstairs so that I can stick my head in the pillow. (I really didn’t, but that’s how I felt.) I just finished cutting up the string beans since the onions, green pepper, scallions, and celery were finished. I was trying desparately to think of someway to use the stove or something similar.
Once all was cut up, I placed it in a bowl and set it in the refrigerator. Guess by now you’re asking, “What’s for dinner?” It’s my version of fried rice and butter poundcake. The poundcake was about half way completed and just needed a few more minutes in the oven. But now I’ve gotta wait until tomorrow to complete this meal assignment and its gonna be good if it’s the last thing I do.