09/02/08 to 15/02/08

I didn't make it to the beach in the end as a couple of people I'd been trying to make contact with suggested doing things over the weekend, so I thought it would be wise to stay in Yaoundé. This included a couple of beers with a French guy, who took me to a weird cabaret style bar, and dinner at a Spanish restaurant with a real expat crowd. They're mostly older than me with more official jobs and all drive around in big cars, have nice houses and spend lots of money on western-style food. On my wage I can't afford that too often. I had plans to for the big game too - Cameroon-Egypt in the final of the Cup of Nations - but they didn't work out. It didn't matter too much in the end, Cameroon lost and suddenly everything was back to normal. People seem generally to have taken the defeat on the chin and there is a general acknowledgement that Egypt were the better side and that there's a fair element of chance in knockout tournaments, which is refreshing when I think back to reactions to some of England's defeats over the years.

I also went up to Hotel Mont Fébé, which is more or less the poshest hotel in Cameroon, to relax by their pool. The Cameroon football team was there, fresh from their final defeat, and so there was a fair old circus of hangers on. I ate lunch a few tables away from Samuel Eto'o, which was pretty cool, and Joseph Desire-Job was on the next table, which I couldn't really have cared less about but it was interesting to see the sheer hassle even he got from fans. It was weird actually to think that this guy earns in the region of a couple of million a year just to play football, and in Eto'o's case, more like £5m. I was surprised how physically slight he is, TV really must add some pounds.

Later in the week one of the people who I'd contacted on Facebook the previous week invited me to his house for dinner. I had a really pleasant evening with him, his wife and his children. One of the things he mentioned to me during the evening was that at one point many years ago he tried to make a living importing Cameroonian art to the States for wholesale, but he got conned and lost a fair bit of money. It was interesting that he'd had no problems conducting smooth business at this end, but got completely screwed over at the American end by a professional con-artist and a company that never paid up.

As I was leaving after dinner I asked if they know anyone who plays or teaches djembe, as it's something I'd like to do while I'm out here. My question prompted a whoop, clap, laugh and semi-jig from his wife... yes she knows a djembe teacher, he'll be here tomorrow and he'll be playing while she and some others dance, I should drop by and check it out. At best I'd hoped they might have a friend of a friend who played or something, but this was literally the perfect answer to my question. So the next day after work I stopped by their house again, which is actually on my way home. There was the drummer, about 3 or 4 Cameroonian women, a few young American girls over here on some exchange programme, a dancing guy, the drummer, me and the kids. We drummed, they danced. It was brilliant. I hope I'll be able to do it again. I'm also looking into getting private lessons with the teacher, which would be great if it works out.

Thursday was all about work. It was the first day I really felt engaged and productive, and it was a good – if tiring – feeling. The whole day was busy, in a really good way. In the morning the Country Director told me about some funding that we might be able to access to provide some relief (food, clothes, water) to some of the refugees in the far north of the country who have recently come in from Chad. We had to get a mini-proposal in by the end of the day, which I was to write. So I had to take a quick crash course in the situation, get in touch with UNHCR, MSF and whoever else I could think of, and work out how to make a plausible proposal out of the limited information at my disposal. It was a difficult but important task, as a good job could result in these people getting assistance that they wouldn't otherwise get.

In the evening, tired and in need of some relaxation, I got in touch with some people who have a regular poker game. The game was actually held at the house of the person to whom we'd submitted the proposal just minutes before I got there, but we didn't talk shop. He was hospitality personified, and after some pizza, beer, whiskey and a successful night on the poker table whereby my £11 had grown to £28, I left feeling well looked-after and a wee bit lucky.

I hope the luck continues and this project comes through; it's a relatively small amount of money, but I'm sure it is worth doing.