Different than expected

Mary Ann and I made two phone calls this week. One to Esther and one to Felica. Mary Ann talked with Esther and it seemed to go pretty well. They agreed on a time for an interview to be our steward; 2:30 Thursday. I called Felica and it was a confusing mess. She sounded worlds away and talked as quickly as a chipmunk.The only two words I could make out were "Oh God!" After 10 times of telling her I couldn't hear her and asking her to slow down so I could understand I ended the conversation with "Okay, so we'll see you tomorrow at 3:00!" I wasn't surprised when three o'clock came and passed with no knock on the door to announce her coming. But, I'm sure she has just as much trouble understanding my accent as I do hers.

Today we had three appointments and three no shows. Even our art teacher Lanre didn't come. But, I did get a text from him. And instead of a packed, busy afternoon it became a luxurious, relaxing afternoon. An afternoon where Mary Ann and I looked up vegan recipes online, were I IMed with friends around the world and I tried to bake cookies (they turned out looking like those melted clocks in the famous painting by Dali.

Harmattan

This is the setting sun during Harmattan season. I caught it on my way home from work.

We've official entered the "winter" of Nigeria. It's a season called Harmattan. The temperatures can get down in the 60's! But the signature of this season is the dust. The deserts bring in the coolness of this season and all the dust with it. My contacts are frequently scratchier and we all have sinus issues such as stuffy noses, and the constant nasal drip.

We have some amazing skies due to the dust in the air.

Here is what Wikipedia had to say about it:

The Harmattan is a dry and dusty West African trade wind. It blows south from Sahara into the Gulf of Guinea between the end of November and the middle of March (winter).^[1]

On its passage over the desert it picks up fine dust particles (between 0.5 and 10 micrometres). When the Harmattan blows hard, it can push dust and sand all the way to North America.

In some countries in West Africa, the heavy amount of dust in the air can severely limit visibility and block the sun for several days,comparable to a heavy fog. The effect caused by the dust and sand stirred by these winds is known as the Harmattan haze, and costs airlines millions of dollars in canceled and diverted flights each year.The interaction of the Harmattan with monsoon winds can cause tornadoes.

In Niger, people say that men and animals become increasingly irritable when this wind has been blowing for a while, giving it a bad reputation.However, the cool wind brings relief from the oppressive heat, which is why the Harmattan has earned the nickname "The Doctor".

Confirmed

My alarm began croaking at 5:30 am. (The ring tone is frogs) I hit the snooze button for half and hour. I counted up the hours of sleep on my fingers and lay wondering why I was still tired. I went through my morning routine and walked to school for my two minute commute I'm always so grateful for.

The morning bell announced the beginning of school. The Sparkle Diamonds greeted me at the door and were now busy reading or writing. I had a small group of three with me. We meet every day to practice their reading. I was happy with their progress as the books I had chosen were too easy for them. They were growing as readers. Yet, why was I so grumpy with them and short with them? I quickly called the group to a close.

It came on suddenly. The nausea and the flash of heat. I just stood there battling in my head about what road of action to take. Could I throw up in front of my kids? I decided not and told them my stomach was hurting and I needed to rush to the bathroom. Tonyee the teaching assistant was still at her morning duty but I had to get to the bathroom before it was too late. Plus, I trusted my kids to stay alone.

I made it just in time. Now, I'm home sick.

I was sleeping when I heard the front door open. I thought it must be Grace since it was too early for Mary Ann to come home for lunch. I shook off some of my grogginess and decided to walk into the kitchen to see what Grace was doing. Maybe she came down for her slippers or radio. I wanted to be ask quiet as I could so I wouldn't interrupt her. As I walked in she was filling a container with noodles. I asked her what she was doing. She said that she was getting lunch. I had told her she could eat. I never thought to clarify only on the days you are working for us. I told her but you aren't working for us today Grace your'e working for Shair. She kept repeating that I told her she could eat. She didn't seem to understand that my invitation to eat wasn't an open invitation for any time she liked. Now, I don't feel so bad about our decision.

Thoughts provoked

This week was smooth and steady. I’ve felt more organized since returning from break and have really felt settled in our classroom routines which results in more sanity of everyone involved. It’s been wonderful because I’ve been able to be one step ahead of the game now. On Monday I’m already using my planning time to tackle the necessities for the next week. I’m really excited because this week I get to help teach my first professional development class on guided reading. I get so passionate about teaching and it’s nice to have this fresh outlet to teach teachers.

The weeks here just flash by. It seems like it’s constantly another Friday. I’m not complaining. This weekend I had some new adventures. AISL hosted a softball tournament against local companies. We took advantage of this and went to the beach hut. Immediately upon arrival I changed into my suit and waded into the water. It had a completely different personality this time. It was calm and the breaking waves were small and friendly. I was pleasantly bobbing along when I felt a sting on the back of my leg. I drifted my hand through the water to see if there was anything around under there. I found nothing. I just ignored it and swam away. A couple of minutes later my friend, Amanda, said that she was getting stung as well. By this time it had happened repeatedly to me as well. We quickly swam to shore to reveal welts, bumps and rashes. I showered and hung my suit up to dry, that was it for the day. I’m not sure what it was but it must have just been that spot because a young boy was in for triple the time and he never get a single sting.

While basking in the sun to dry I saw a lot of movement down the shore. There was a long wooden boat circling the water. A net was being left in its drift. A lone man was in the water smacking the surface. On shore there were a group of about 40 men in a long line pulling in the net. I walked over to investigate. I wanted to learn more about what kind of fish they were catching and see if I could possibly help pull the nets with them. It was only men and a group of young boys. Their back breaking work had produced them two small grouper fish, some blue crabs the kids adopted and a couple of silver bait fish. They were very kind, letting me snap their photos and ask them questions. Finished for the day, I didn’t get to help pull the nets but maybe another time.

I have some lovely friend named Ronke and Bonkole. They have two kids that I’ve written about previously. I found out the first weekend of my return that they were moving to Abjua because Ronke got a new position working with the UN on environmental issues. The kids have moved already since school resumed on Monday for them. I thought Ronke had made the move as well but I was pleasantly surprised when they invited me over this weekend. Since the beach is ten minutes from their house I invited myself to spend the night. They were touched that I wanted to spend so much time with them. I got the real African treatment. Ronke and I spent the evening chatting over boiling and bubbling pots. I had asked her to teach me how to make some the traditional Nigerian meals I so enjoy. My lessons for the night were Okra soup and Amala, which is similar to cream of wheat. I got to bucket bath and live with tiny bugs, cockroaches that scatter and hide on the door hinges, and investigating mice. One thing that I was surprised with was how noisy was. I was constantly woken at night by local dogs, the 5:00 am morning masque call, and the creaking doors of someone venturing to the bathroom. I enjoyed my time with them but missed the company of the children.

I’m in school. My professors are my Nigerian friends. Saturday while at the beach I had a class lecture from Gbenga about the scammers and the life of poverty. I’ve quickly learned that Nigerians LOVE to talk. When they have a quiet audience they will take full advantage. I sat for a couple of hours only asking questions for clarification but never getting a real opinion or word in. Conversations here are one sided and there never seems to be a proper place to end them. I’m surprised they don’t hyperventilate from lack of breath. But, I don’t mind because I do love learning from them. Their world view is different than mine because I’ve never had to survive poverty. While I’ve been in situations of empty cabinets and negative bank accounts I have plenty of family and friends to call upon. My opportunities don’t involve an intricate scam or a ripping off a mirror to resell it on the market.

Today Lindas driver Lukeman came to see me. He was all shy and nervous as we quickly recapped our weekends. We walked toward the office as we chatted and I wasn’t surprised when he asked behind his grin and a handkerchief if he could ask me two questions. I told him that I was on the way to the office to talk with the principal but he could ask me right then. He got nervous and with a face that is all grin told me he would come back later. I was wondering what he was going to ask me and was seriously hoping it wasn’t about a date. Twenty minutes later he stuck his head into my room and said “Oh, you are busy?” and before I could answer he quietly closed the door while saying he would come back. A brief second later there was a slight tap on the door and he stuck his head in again and said “When will be a time that you aren’t busy?” I told him that I would always be busy but that I wouldn’t mind meeting right then that I could make time. He stepped in a started to tell me his story about needing to relocate and that his wife (huge breath of relief and extreme happiness) was a hairdresser and that she worked out of a container. To save money they were also living in the container. He wanted to move to another part of Lagos and needed money to get this done. You know I’ve heard a lot of different stories. I’ve leant money to my art teacher and friend in the past. It’s either the ATM ate their bank card, or they need money for transport back to their state. They always pay it back and are respectful when they ask. Every time they start their pitch I think in my head “No way.” And I begin to mentally form my rejection. And every time by the end my heart has turned and I find myself saying “Sure, hold on let me go and get it.” BUT, before you paint me as naive, let me explain. I also ask them are they expecting a dash (tip) or a loan? It’s always a loan. We also clarify when they will pay it back. The amounts have never been much 35 dollars here, 50 dollars there. When I heard Lukemans story and how he just needs some 90 dollars to get him and his wife out of the container and back to his kids how can I refuse? I figure I collateral as well; his job being Lindas driver. Plus, I like to trust the Nigerians. Most of the expats diss them and don’t believe even the most honest truths. Of course these opinions have been proven over time by the select few, but I’m glad to help Lukeman. I can part with the 90 dollars for a couple of days. It would sit unused in my drawer otherwise. I’m learning to be a bank.

Friday will be our stewards last day. She doesn’t know this yet. We’ll tell her in person, pay her and ask for the flat key. We’ve tried to talk with her, and have written her an official letter detailing what were are dissatisfied with and what we would like to see. A “trail” month has come and gone with no drastic improvement. We have already lined up some interviews for the replacement steward. It’s nice coming into this new relationship with the perspective and wisdom we’ve gained from these past six months. Grace will still work for our friend two days a week. But, we never run into her so hopefully things wont be awkward. While I’m confident I can’t have any more “conversations” about expectations, and gripping sessions with Mary Ann about how those expectations aren’t being met I still feel conflicted. Is it right to fire a widow who has two children and a grandbaby to support? But, then again it wasn’t my actions that decided this. I feel like I’m playing devils advocate with myself.