Gentle Nigerian with strong hands

Thursdays have quickly become my favorite day of the week. The reason being Lilly. Lilly is a blessing who comes as a gentle Nigerian with strong hands. Today she came over at 5:00 and spent over an hour, hands full of baby oil and peppermint, working on my whole body, telling those tight muscles who was boss.

The first time she came was the day I threw my back out so today I was pleasantly surprised as she used her 20 years of message experience. Each toe was given the royal treatment. Each pressure point was addressed. Each muscle was settled down and melted under her expert hands.

Now I'm hooked and have set up a permanent appointment for every Thursday. So, now Thursdays will be my favorite day of the week.

An eventful weekend

On Friday I joined 11 other teachers to go on a dinner cruise. We were rushed to get there since traffic can be so bad on Fridays. There is additional traffic due to the construction on the expansion of the road. But, we made it in time and had drinks in the jazz bar lounge before we went aboard.

The boat operates every day for lunch and dinner. Tonight we had the boat all to ourselves but shared the space with the live jazz band, minus the three who were stuck in traffic. I loved seeing Lagos from a different view point. We chugged up and down one of the main waterways of Lagos and got to see a different angle of the city. At one point we heard sirens and saw the flashing lights of a police boat. We stopped and a military man entered the boat and went to the the steering deck. Turned out to be a small problem where the boats papers hadn't been processed for that month. I guess the paper work was stuck somewhere and the police wanted to put a little bit of pressure to get things sped up.

What I love about Lagos is how so much life is tucked away. You have to adventure into the nooks and crannies to find the real life and heartbeat of this city. While waiting for the band to arrive I noticed two goats trying to pass through the water, women cooking or cleaning by the boats, and a impromptu football match.

While many commented on the food not being amazing I thought mine had good flavor and a kick to it. The band played great dancing music and Nisse and Jon dance similar to me and my hippy moves so we had a really fun time feeling the music and moving in our own flow.

The next day I went to the U 17 World Cup. We watched two matches and both were excellent. The second match was so close at 2-2 and went into overtime. At the last minute Brazil made a goal that seemed nearly impossible and baffled most of us but had us on our feet and swinging towels above our heads. There is something about large crowds rooting for teams and the gestures of unity and competition. It was a very evening.

A sweaty breather

Down the street there is a refuge. Not far from my house really. Depending on traffic it can either 15 minutes like this morning or 3 hours like other days. Today on our compound our power was supposed to be out from 8:00 to 1:00 so they could work on the generator. I took advantage of the inconvenience to get out of the house.

Matthew came and was just finishing cleaning the mud splatter off the side of our car when I walked up. The drive was a quick one today as traffic was still light. We drove past the new construction on the road. They are turning a swamp area into expanded road. I saw a bulldozer scooping water and moving it a couple of feet to a new location with a big splash. I saw overturned wooden tables still empty in the early morning rush. The vendors had not set up shop yet. I saw a man picking green grasses and I wondered what he was going to use them for. We listened to Wazubia which a local radio station and I listened hard trying to pick up new pieces of pigeon to season my language with and make the Nigerian laugh. I munched on my cold broccoli strudel on the way.

We arrived at Chevron where Staci lives. Staci is my wild friend who brings so much life to my days here. Her son, Kaelan, is in my class. After some oatmeal with walnuts and cranrasins and a cup of chai we headed out to the conservatory. It was sponsored by Chevron and is a block away from the compound. We timed the space in the nonstop stream of cars scurrying across between okada and bush taxis.




The walk at the conservatory was nice. We dawdled along admired the struggle of an ant lifting a huge golden leaf, or the left over nibbled seeds scattering the walk way. We listened to the different bird calls and the whooshing of the trees leaves over head. At one point we wandered off the wooden plank trail to a muddy path loop. We found ourselves squishing through mud puddles and using dangling branches as support. Eventually we were walking along the trail more than on the trail and we reached a long stretch of pure puddle and decided to turn around.


There is a great tree house you can climb up to and sit amongst the treetops so high up. I've always day dreamt about bring a book and journal up here and having a hidden refuge.


Staci was a little disappointed that we didn't get to see any monkeys. But, at the very last stretch we heard the rustle in the tree tops and we looked up to see a few swinging and jumping from branch to branch. Looking down the path I could see more and heard the familiar whimpers of the babies. They were rolling on their backs playing and tumbling, but all I could think about was the time one got scared and caused the momma monkey to run and jump onto Mary Ann. As we walked closer making lots of noise and commotion we noticed it wasn't just a few monkeys. It was like a flat out colony of monkeys with black masks around their eyes and tails triple the length of their bodies. I grabbed a dead branch and swung it around wildly as we approached them. They escaped into the safety of the treetops as we hustled through until it was clear.



It was a beautiful morning of exploring and admiring the wonders of nature and we rewarded ourselves with tall glasses of iced peace cranberry juice when we returned home.

Belly buttons

Today after school Joel came up to me and said, "Ms. Diamond, I need your help." He continued to tell me that he needed my help in finding his drinking container that was black metal and had fluffy at the top, but not like puffy fluffy thing.

We quickly made a plan to go and look in the lost and found and out by the field. While walking to those places with his tennis racket in one hand, his lunch box looped around his arm and his plastic waterbottle with the dredges of orange juice tucked under the other arm, he told me that the water bottle was very special and not like the one under his arm. He got it when his dad returned. I asked him if it was recently then because his dad had just returned from a trip. He answered, "It was sort of a long time ago but not too long ago. But, not very recently." Basically, he had no clue except that it was special. And I remembered kids concept of time isn't like grown ups. While at the field and the trashcan he sat down in defeat. We planned to look again Monday.

While he was packing up he said out of the blue, " You know, I'm not an ordinary boy."After a pause he continued, "Because, I don't like to show my bellybutton. Most boys like to show their bellybutton." "When do they show their bellybuttons?" I wondered out loud and while silently agreeing. Joel is not an ordinary boy, but he sure does make me smile.

BALANCE

Right now, I'm extremely happy, so I was trying to reflect why. I believe if I know why then I can do my best to cultivate it. And I've concluded it's all about balance. Balancing my interactions with Nigerians and Ex pats. I love going out into the community and getting a better sense of their struggle and their joy. But, I love coming home and taking a warm shower and cuddling in bed with my laptop. Balance looks like spending time working on my National Boards but taking breaks to fry jalapenos with the girls. Balance is when I can enjoy club hoping and a really late night of dancing and also go to church on Sunday to learn about spiritual aspects of life. Now I'm going to reflect on how to sustain this balance and be deliberate about it. But, I bet there even needs to be a balance in this. A balance of refection and action.

Itchy, Sratchy!

Our heads were itchy and scratchy today with sympathy pains as we found out that two of our students had lice! In the morning one of the parents asked if her son could see the nurse some time during the day. He had been itchy. So, I sent him right then and there. After 45 minutes later he had not returned so I sent Mrs. Nnamdi to check on him. Yep, he had lice. Through out the day I kept an eye out for any more monkey action. By the end of the day we all had passed through the nurses office, our pillows were bagged and a letter was formed and sent home to parents. It's never a dull day at AISL. Oh, and good news... I don't have them.

Local Football

Matthew picked me up at 2:00 and we drove to the mainland where we parked at a Tantalizers, a fast-food joint, to wait for Segun. He came in 5 minutes and we gathered in the car and drove to his shop where he was in the process of feeding his creativity. He makes leather bracelets with silver or gold studs. We climbed the steep steps, he cleaned off sitting spots and we watching him at his bliss. We had come because later he is going to take us to a local football championship.









When we arrived at the game they were just starting. I decided to cheer for the yellow team because this was the team Segun wanted to win. I loved watching the football. There was so much action and the speed and control of the ball was entertaining. I couldn't imagine playing on rough rock infested fields like they do. This demands an even greater skill of ball control.







Part of the fun of being at a football match was watching the people around me. I loved watching how people walking on the overpass would stop, legs dangling on the wall and they would watch for a short time before moving on. And boy do these Nigerians know how to celebrate when their team scores a goal. You would have thought they won the lottery with the promise of a million dollars. They run across the field with their arms spread like a soaring bird. Or the dance up and down hugging each other. A little boy even come onto the field up to one of the players and high fived him. They take their football serious here.







When I looked away from the field or from the view finder of my camera I notice peoples eyes are transfixed. Not on the field where the action is, but on me the white woman with a big camera lens. I don't think they totally know what to make of this scene. They want to see what I'll do next, they probably wonder why I am there in Nigeria and they are curious about the Nigerian who has brought me. At times like this, when I'm in the heart of Lagos I realize how separated our lives are. Us and them. The island and the main land. The ex-pats and the nationals. I don't mind the stares. I just say hello and smile until they smile back. I do realize though that a lot of people would feel uncomfortable being such a spectacle. For me, it's just a part of life here. The more time I spend in the heart of Lagos where the real action is the more I find I'm falling in love with the people and their struggle for life.

This little girl was one who was captivated by my camera. She was brave enough to ask me to take her picture.

Now back to the game! At half time it was tied 1-1 and remained that way until the end of the game. This means they went to penalty shots. Each team got 5 chances. Out of those 5 chances each team scored 4, so they went into automatic win for the team that made the next score. After a couple of goals from each team the blue teams shot was blocked and then the yellow team landed a quick, low one in the corner. The crowd flooded the field and as we left a huge group with the trophy extended above their heads poured into the streets totally ignoring any cars or buses and jubilantly danced down the street declaring to all their well earned victory.

Engagment Ceremony

Femi and Bola are... Well, to be completely honest with you. I'm confused. I've had many conversations with Mike. They go like this: Mike spends a long time explaining the engagement and marriage process then ends by asking "Do you get it?" Then there is a long pause on my end and finally a "Well.. not really." Then he begins to explain it again this time taking a different approach. And again ends with the question, "Do you understand?" My answer is, "Well, I guess. I sort of understand." He knows I don't yet.

Why are they white people?

Femi in his wedding garments, Segun, and me in our traditionals.

So, I'll tell you what I do know. Femi and Bola celebrated today! They celebrated choosing to live life together. It was a long ceremony that was loud with constant singing and talking drums. It was really unlike anything I've ever experienced. The drummers will come right up to you or even corner you until you give them money. I pulled out a ten naira note and offered it to them but he pulled away and say "Ut uh now." And so I gave him a 20 and the man leaned over to my friend Segun and said in Yoruba, "You've taught her!" There was a program that we followed but the times were hours behind.

Signing the official documents.

To start the families dance in and sit down opposite each other then there is a lot of singing and a lot of "dashing" which is where people come and pay small small money to the performers. This was drawn out for well over an hour.

The dowry yams. In some states they have stopped paying a really high dowry because it looks like they are selling their daughters.

Then they call up the groom from downstairs. They set out two chairs and placed silver bowls on them for money. The chairs were like a gate and before they passed through they had to lay money inside. The groom came in surrounded and supported by his mates. I couldn't help but think how Mike should have been one of them dancing and laughing around the groom all dressed in their traditionals. Femi had to prostrate himself before his new parent-in-laws. He had to lay flat on his stomach while they spoke prayers over him. They passed the microphone from one parent to the next while he lay there in submission. Then he sat on their knees while people snapped their photos. He sat up in the front in a heart shaped chair while Bola did the same thing.

Me and the beautiful bride Bola

Bolas mom is the second from the left in the pink head tie.

Eventually they were both in the heart shaped chairs and the Muslim service began. The elders spoke in Arabic and then it was translated into Yoruba. Most of the ceremony was in Yoruba so I understood nothing of it. But, I was so interested in all the action around me that I didn't mind. During the service Mike's dad would lean over and whisper to me the translation of the actions or the words. I loved spending time with him as I feel he is an important key for me to understanding Mike even better. This is the man who has passed on his wisdom of life to Mike, and Mike frequently mentions what his dad has taught him.

The Muslim elders who lead the service.

Celebrating after the ceremony.

During the whole service Mikes friend doted on me. Asking how I was doing and getting me anything I needed. At one time I was given some of the local bottled water and it just tasted strange to me so they went out to the street and bought me Eva water which was cool and refreshing.

Unfortunately, my battery was dead from all my snapping at the Nigerian Culture Day, so during the ceremony it was busy plugged in and charging. But, after the ceremony when we were all celebrating it was green and ready to go. So, I got some pictures afterward and took a lot of pictures of the traffic on the way home.

Scrap metal? Nope, not in Nigeria! This bad boy is still ruling the road here.

Sometimes the okadas are more reliable when in heavy traffic. They slip through small spaces and make their own lanes.

A typical sign saying in Lagos. "Don't urinate here." Everywhere else is free grounds.

I was snapping this from a different road and then realized we were joining the on ramp to merge into this mess. Typical. And this is way worse during the week. I'm grateful it was Saturday.

Flying down the highway. Obviously there are no click-it or ticket laws here. Always on the look out for a potential customer needing to go their way. They work hard for their small pay.

What a good note to end on.

Overall, it was a fantastic day. I got to spend time with some of Mike's best friends, participate in a Nigerian cultural event and be in the heart of Lagos life. It took us around 3 hours to get home which made it a full and rewarding day.