Ikogobo Masquerade Festival

I've joined a new society called the Nigerian Field Society. They plan and arrange for various trips around Nigeria. Each month waiting in your inbox is a list of the most recent trips and some that are upcoming. Spending the 2000 nira, which is around 15 dollars, for membership has already been a highlight of my time here.

Today was my first adventure. This morning came early after the 9 course Valentines dinner I feasted on late last night. Linda and Renzo rolled out the red carpet again with their normal outrageous generosity. My favorite part of the night was seeing Renzo sweep a reluctant Linda up in his arms. He was being moved by the accordion music setting the mood. Linda blushed and said "Oh, he is drunk." Eventually he won her over with this toothy grin and they swayed together with an ease that comes after 25 years of marriage.


So, this morning came early but it was worth the lost couple hours of sleep. Me and 7 other teachers piled in a our school van with the trusted Tunde at the wheel. We joined the link in a long convey of 18 other cars holding 50 other people. The drive in itself was entertaining. It's refreshing seeing the different faces and landscapes of Lagos.


After an hour of disturbing any peace around us with this long snake of a convoy we arrived at the launching site where about 10 canoes were getting last minute repairs of tar patching and water bailing.


The next hour was magical as we paddled up a meandering stream. Fish jumped in front of us, birds serenaded us from the side lush vegetation, and the sound of the consistent paddle stroking the water could have put me to sleep. It was a beautiful ride and I sat next to my principal Justin and his wife Shannon so the conversation was interesting and rewarding.






Just when our butts couldn't take any more hard planked wood we drifted into the village. We could hear the wild beating drums long before we saw them. Our boat driver with one eye worked hard but we were passed three times by other boats and were the second to last to arrive. The festival had already started as we followed the path into the heart of the village. Our group had settled under the shade of a large tree. The woman congregated in the back, chopping goat meat and stirring garri which is a cassava porridge. The children picked up discarded juice boxes and shook out any remnant droplets. The men congregated, arms crossed leaning to one side.




The smells of burning fire, the sights of mud brick houses, and the sounds of a unknown dialet and chidlrens laugher reminded me of the Africa I am familiar with. You could have taken Maria or Alberto from Mozambique and placed them in this setting without much imagination. The familiarity was refreshing to me and stirred the memories of previous dreams and unique comforts. It's from experiences like these that remind me I have an American passport but it's a label that doesn't stick. This unexplainable feeling of home comes over me when I'm in the most simplest environments.


The masquerade was loud, colorful and long. There was dancing goats, masked wives and twirling colored characters to provoke rain. This Yuroba tribe of the backwater village, Ikogobo put on this festival just for us. We participated by giving the dancers 20 nira when they approached you with outstretched hands. Or if they were a lizard with an open mouth you stuffed the nira notes down into it.



While this was beautiful and festival with ornate costumes my attention was drawn to the villagers, especially the women cooking over woodpiles and the children running around barefoot and happy.


There was a group of women skinning meat, slivering onions, and stirring garri. I told one women that I wanted to help. I sat down next to them and made gestures so they understood. The garri was scooped up with a plastic bowl and plopped into pre-cut pieces of plastic wrap. I was surprised with how scalding hot the balls were in my hand because the women didn't respond as I wanted to. I wanted to yip and drop the contents into the dirt. The women were so pleased with my help they announced "You will marry my son!", they proceeded to drag over their son and said proudly, "My son. This is your wife!" I just laughed, pointed to my ring on my wiggling fingers and said "Sorry, your too late." This made a loud crack of laughter roar through the group. But, that put an end to the wedding ideas and the guy sheepishly returned to his mates.


Another thing that drew my attention was the photo ops surrounding me. I was grateful for the three pairs of batteries I had charged and switched them out regularly. There was just too much beauty around me to not be distracted.



After a couple hours of the festival we loaded up and packed back into the canoes. This time there were two drivers. We quickly arrived back at the launching point and gathered into the van for a reflective drive home.




The drive wasn't peaceful though beacuse we were part of a convey being lead by a escorts who preferred driving in zig zags rather than straight lines. We weaved and jerked our way through traffic and joked that the leader of the convey had enjoyed a little too much palm win.

To see all of the pictures go to Facebook at

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=57167&id=515407286&l=ebe72

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=57158&id=515407286&l=cf803