Eyo festival

Leading up to this week you could see full bulletin boards advertising the event called Eyo. Also there suddenly were status of a figure in a white, full cloak erected around town. And I began to hear this buzz word Eyo floating around. Eyo is a festival held in Lagos. This event provokes mixed emotions depending upon who you are asking. The nationals look forward to Eyo, as it's a time to celebrate the deceased and gather together for a unified cause. The expats are frightened into not going to Eyo. They are sent informational emails from their high commission explaining the festival and directing them to inform the commission if they do choose to go.

I asked my friend Mike his opinion and he said that while in the past these festivals have become dangers this year was going to be different because of the involvement of Lagos Mayor and the extra security that would be on hand. So, we went but only after getting informed. Here is what I knew before I left. This festival was going to be calmer this year because they were trying to make it a tourist attraction. (Afterwards I told Mike that they had a long way to go if they wanted this to be attractive to any Westerners who tend to appreciate order or at least organized chaos). Shoes, head coverings and cameras weren't permitted and if you did have either of these you consequence would be a beating. I got "beat" a couple of times, but they were jokingly just taps because I had my shoes on (the cement was HOT and dirty) But, at times my heart did race when I saw large crowds of people running away being chased by those cloaked mystery men. This event is to celebrate those people who are late (dead) and is a way of honoring them.

What I saw was millions of people jammed together in the stadium. I saw an unending stream pushing their way up the broken railed stairway and a slower stream coming down. I saw people huddled on every inch of a cars roof to get a better view. I saw a few white people most of them in a tourist double decker bus. Mostly I saw a swarming sea of brown faces all squinting for a view of the masquerade and all beaded with glistening sweat.

What we saw over the tops of peoples head were groups of men representing different families (Igas) from Lagos. They were competing to win the prize of 1 million nira. They usually had a white sheet covering their heads and draping to cover their feet. On their heads were different colors of hats. Each Iga has their own symbol and own style. In all there were over 70 families represented. My favorite were these yellow hats that has embroidered swirls on them. Each person holds a stick and at one point two people hit the sticks together in rhythm. It reminded me of a parade which the families marching by along the shores of lined up people.

The largest Eyo is the Eyo Adimu. They are the ones in the picture above. They command the most respect because they are the most senior of Eyos. They chant curses over you and so I saw every one snapping their fingers over their heads to ward off those curses. Just like most traditional cultural events in Nigeria and other parts of Western African there is a lot of witchcraft and voodoo involved. It's sad to think that they think there is power in the snapping of fingers over their heads. How can this break a curse that is put on you? I find that even though there is a large number of Christians and Muslims here there is still this underlining current of fetish belief that is more powerful and more influential then either of the other two beliefs.

After a couple of hours Mike and I decided to leave. At the gate we had to wait our turn as a man in a bright yellow vest tried to keep order. There was just enough room for either group to come in or to go out. We all pressed up against each other while we waited to exit. People were getting impatient and pushing, as if this would accomplish anything. Public transportation was canceled today but the government had arranged for free public buses. We loaded onto one but after about 20 minutes of it sitting in dead still traffic and the sweat pouring down us we decided to check out our other options. Traffic was worse than usual. We took a bus to a main road and then took a taxi home. I was pleasantly surprised with how quickly this all happened and had mentally prepared myself for hours on a hot, unmoving bus.

Overall, I'm glad that I got to experience this famous masquerade in Nigeria. I enjoy learning about the culture and history of these people. It helps me to understand the environment I am living in.

The latest in Nigeria

There was an oil strike for the past four days meaning there was no gasoline. People were running out of petrol and unable to go to work. The local transport tripled as gas was scarce. But, it did make for a quick commute to school today from Linda's house. Linda says something like this always happens in May. But, this year it was a little early.

Here is an article about the strike.


OIL WORKERS CALL OFF STRIKE

By Elisha Bala-Gbogbo April 22, 2009 08:21A

Oil workers in Lagos have called off a four-day strike as the federal government intervened to settle their face-off with the Lagos State government.

The strike by the Petroleum Tanker Drivers, an affiliate of the National Union of Petroleum and Natural Gas Workers, had crippled economic activities in Lagos, Nigeria’s commercial centre, and other cities. Tokunbo Korodo, the zonal secretary of the National Union of Petroleum and Natural Gas Workers, said the “strike has been called off. We’re loading (refined petroleum products) now. The federal government intervened through the NNPC (Nigerian National Petroleum Corporation).”

In a signed statement by Livi Ajuonuma, the NNPC spokesperson said, “Acting on the initiative of President Umar Musa Yar’dua, the NNPC management has waded in to resolve the face-off between the Lagos State government and tanker drivers.”

The statement further stated that “the NNPC paid the penalty imposed on the 27 trucks impounded by the Lagos State government.” While commending the efforts of the state government at maintaining sanity on the roads, Mr. Ajuonuma urged the tanker drivers to conduct their affairs lawfully without undue recourse to activism.

The union embarked on the strike on Friday, April 17, to protest the seizure of 50 trucks by officials of the state traffic agency for illegal parking and fines of N150, 000 per truck.

Spring in Biella

A Italiann tradition of huge chocolate Easter eggs. Each contains a surprise.

Massive amounts of chocolate

We visited a neighbors farm where we explored his wine cellar. I got to taste and enjoy the fruits of his labor.

The superhero guardian of wine

Thursday was the day of departure. I joined 11 other in our school van for our 4:30 departure. All of our flights left around the same time 9:20, 9:30, 9:40, but all were heading to different parts of the world, Denver, Gambia, Turkey, Italy. We made bets on the time we would arrive to the airport. Considering the roads were like molasses I guessed 8:00. And right as 8:00 rolled around on the clock we pulled into the airport. But this is a bet I wish I hadn't won because it means the drive that normally takes 45 minutes took 3 1/2 hours. I quickly waved my goodbyes and went to find my Alitalia flight counter. As I approached I noticed there was only a very short line. And as I stood there I noticed some strange things. The electronic board announced the counter was closed, the line was more like a clump of people none looking too urgent and a few who were frantic, also they were wrapping up the power chord line. I quickly found out that the counter was closed and that I was late, I would have to come back tomorrow. TOMORROW! Oh no! Not tomorrow! I had just sat in mad traffic to get there, all of my colleagues had boarded their perspective flights, and this was my damn holiday. I had a wide rang of emotions. First I cussed, not at anyone but just in plain frustration and anger. Cursing this airline and the logic of Nigerians. Then I prayed for favor and asking for wisdom and insight on the meaning of this delay as I believe all things happen for a reason. Then I got irritated as they shuffled us back and forth from office to different office just to get rid of us. I was waiting with about 10 others who were in the same predicament. One Italian had the number of the owner of Alitalia and so he got his ticket and seat. I watched as the Nigerians pleaded and cursed and bribed the Alitalia workers to no avail. I waited in line to rebook my ticket for the next day only after paying the 100 dollars to change the ticket. The Nigerian lady next to me tisked her tongue and whispered desperately "Oh Jesus!" As she didn't have that 100 dollars to change her ticket. While I saw the others on the flight the next day I didn't' see her. What a difficult situation, spending so much money on the ticket only to not have the extra 100 dollars to rebook another.

At one point the exhaustion of the whole ordeal got to me and I started to cry. The workers told me not to cry and I told them why not as I had no way of getting back to my flat in Victoria Island, I had an elderly friend on the flight who needed my company and a deep desperation to get away from Nigeria. But, the tears didn't last long as I called my friend Gbenga to see if he was near by. He had ridden with us to the airport as he lived really close. I didn't' have the drivers number but I thought maybe Gbenga was still with him. After telling him what happened without hesitating he said that he would be on his way. This loyalty made my tears dry as I realized I wasn't alone in this journey after all and while my contact wasn't with a high up airline official I too had my own contacts to make life here easier.

That night also my friend Mike came and spent the night to keep me company as it seemed the whole campus was empty. The next day Tunde took me to the airport at 2:30 so we could be there when the Alitalia gate opened at 3:00. While this meant a long wait at the airport for my 9:30 flight I wasn't going to miss this flight. Mike and our friend Segun kept me company for those entire 6 hours before I went through customs. Their company made the time go quickly.

I flew into Rome and then took a short 1 hour flight to Torino. There Linda had arranged for a taxi driver to pick me up and take me to Frangizo Paroni. When we pulled out of the parking garage I was greeted by two cherry blossom trees in full bloom! I let out an audible gasp and even though the driver didn't understand English I went off on how beautiful they were and how I hadn't expected the signs of spring. The drive was full of these signs and every corner and turn took my breath away. This was an amazing surprise and gift because spring is my favorite season and now I got to enjoy the familiar smells and sights but in a completely different part of the world.

The tight road leading to Linda's village

Wine Cellar Doors

Flowers live everywhere here

Linda lives in small village tucked away into the rolling hillside which is at the foot of a string of majestic mountains. The mountains were still sprinkled with snow but three weeks ago they were still skiing. They collect their water from a ever running tap that is a fresh source of mountain water. As you drive through their tight streets you see small midget doors that lead to personal wine cellars. Their gardens face out into the wander landscape of changing trees and nestled houses. As I went on a walk I felt the sudden urge to run and see as much as I could. I had giddiness and anticipation as I approached a hillside. What could be on the other side. And what I saw made me freeze and stare and cry with joy. It was simply beautiful!

Dino watching his horse eating in the field.

Cuteness

Lunch date with Enrico



The area we ate lunch at

Each of my days in Italy were different. I celebrated Easter at a Catholic Mass spoken in Italian, ate freshly made boar salami caught by Paolo (Linda's brother-in-law), explored the little villages and countryside by foot and camera, window shopped in the city of Biella, went on a date with my Italian friend Enrico, took a train to Milan and enjoyed pizzerias with Linda.




I was surprised with how few people spoke English. When walking through Milan I targeted the younger generation to ask questions, but found even a very small percentage of them spoke the language. This fact made me a little anxious to travel to Milan by myself but then you just have to get over it and also be willing to laugh at yourself. On this trip I bought two one way tickets instead of one two way ticket and I used the men's restroom instead of the ladies. Small prices to pay for a grand adventure.


Walking through Biella I loved seeing the older people shuffling through town with their head scarfs and missing teeth. I loved seeing them hunched over while driving a small ancient green car or turning their field soil in their skirts and panty hose. The youth are distinct as they dress in black and have mohawks and tight skinny pants. In Biella there is little diversity even in style as all of the old people looked the same and the youth did as well. Milan was different as I saw every culture there and more people spoke English. When arriving I spent the day walking up and down streets, looking at the bread displays or chocolate layers.







When I was returned from Milan on the train I sat next to an older man who spoke English and he told me I should get an award for having Biella be the first place in Italy that I've visited. And after going to Milan for the day I would have it no other way. The country side was exactly what I needed not another bustling city with sky scrapers that block the sun. So, this summer when I return for a longer visit I still want to see Naples and Rome and Tuscany but mostly just to say that I've been there. Really my heart is in the rolling hills spotted with sheep and hay. I look forward to this summer as I'll to visit more nearby villages.

Milan

Long awaited day

Tomorrow is the long awaited day! As my flatmate said, we only have 3 and a half hours of school left before our Spring Break begins. Yipppppeeeee! I've never been so ready in my life.

As you know I had made plans to travel around Turkey with some of my co-workers and their other halves. We were going to barter in bazaars, soak in Turkish bathhouses, and ferry to Greece for ten days. But... as we know things can change.

Two weeks ago we were sitting around our kitchen table planning our trip to Turkey when Mary Ann told me that Linda's mom had died and she was flying out of Lagos. I grabbed my phone to see a missed call from her and quickly called her back. She confirmed this news and said that she would be leaving the next morning with her husband Renzo. The whole family, two sisters from USA, one from Italy and her brother would be gathering in the Philippines for the funeral and logistics.

She returned yesterday to school and I went to her classroom to see how she was doing. She told me the details of her time at home and how homesick and lonely it made her feel now. The last time she was home in the Philippines was in 2002. It was difficult to leave a country that had order, friendly service and people who didn't greedily expect tips. Most of all she missed her family. Renzo returned to Eastern Nigeria for work so her house was empty and hallow as well.

She filled me in on the details of her trip but also told me that she was leaving for Italy on Thursday because her parent-in-laws caretaker quit. She needs to hire a replacement. My heart just broke as she told me this. Here she was already lonely and now she would have to go and tackle another situation and this time all by herself as Renzo can't take more time off from work.

So, I offered to go with her. I've changed my ticket to Turkey and instead am going to Italy tomorrow to the little providence of Biella. I'm so excited to see this place with it's mountains, local commune and fresh air! I'm also looking forward to spending some time with Linda as she had her birthday when she was in the Philippines and I was trying to think of the perfect birthday gift for her. I knew it had to be special. Now, I've found the perfect gift and will enjoy it just as much as she does.

The Beauty

I found some petals full of nectar.

FIRST

After I was writing my last blog about my polished thorns this thought was dropped into my head. It has brought me a lot of peace as I meditate on it.

Just because I don't feel loved doesn't change the fact that I am.

I've been thinking a lot about how easily we let people determine our mood, our perspective, our opinion. I've concluded I need to be carefully aware of who I'm giving permission to and then aware of how I'm going to let it affect me.

SECOND

The world of expat Nigeria is in a upheaval as people are packing up their houses for upcoming summer moves. This community is wildly transitory and is like living in a tornado. But, the beauty of this is they need to sell their leftover possessions. All of the oil companies are given a huge container that they fill in the states a couple of times a year and then ship over to Nigeria. They very rarely go shopping except for the fresh fruits and veggies. Their pantries are filled with American name brands and familiar nibblets that make me salivate just at the thought. Yesterday I got to go to a couple of sales and pile up on their overstock. Mary Ann and I were giddy as we unpacked Saltines, freshly milled whole wheat flour, and a glass jar of natural Montana honey! Today at school my snack was Cranrasins and a chunk of cheese. It's the simple things that can make our hearts sing!