Not Crocodiles, Waterfalls

One instructive part about living in a semi-jungle is that plans change frequently and that you have to be flexible and go with the flow (toaist if you will). My roommate and I had hoped to go out crocodile viewing with a friend of a friend who studies crocodile biodiversity. He was going to take us this weekend, hunt some crocodiles in a nearby lake, catch them, tie their mouths shut and then take samples and pictures. But he ended up leaving at the earliest possible morning light, without us and our eager virgin crocodile eyes. So we had to retool our plans. I ended up going to a goodbye party for a Gabonese/German student who had been here the past months. This was a great success and interesting for its good mix of people from different parts of the world and different parts of the hospital and research center. Then on Sunday my partner in pediatrie who is a super French med student and I headed out to see the chutes de Fugamou, or les chutes de l'Imperatrice, named by a French explorer after Napoleon's wife, the empress Eugenie. It was a good day trip, both for the experience of traveling in Gabon itself, always by taxi and in a big group of people, and for seeing all these small villages along the side of the road. People here are accustomed to white people and unlike in India, no body begs. In fact, the only reason people approach you in general is to try and pick you up. Polygamy is relatively common here and a wedding ring is not even a mild deterrent. Anyway, Eve and I, the French girl, made it to the chutes in fine form. We even navigated the jungle-dense terrain on our own on the way home. A good weekend all in all. Just sans crocodiles unfortunately. A toute a l'heure mes amis.