We picked up my uncle from the airport and then celebrated by going to immediately to Dim Sum and ate our fill of yummy shrimp purses and slippery noodles. We tried to walk off some of the meal by visiting the Portland Art Museum for a special exhibit on modern China media.

We stayed in downtown all day really just wasting time until dinner for a Pizza on Scholls pizza. There is always a line forming at 4:30 for the 5:00 door opening. We took turns standing in line as it was freezing cold.

Holiday activities revolve around food, food and more food.

A big treat was getting to visit over steaming tea with my beautiful friends Sandra and Kevin who joyfully were recently engaged. They were driving down home to California from Astoria. It was such a wonderful couple of hours exchanging dreams and latest revelations. We all left full and satisfied deep down but not only of vitamins and carbs.

IITA

To celebrate my friend Queen Lizzy turning 24 we drove up to another state around 3 hours north of Lagos. Queeny drove us and even though we got lost on some detours and misguided directions we found the resort and resting place called IITA (International Institute of Tropical Agriculture) You can book a room and enjoy the peace of the campus. "Africa's leading research partner in finding solutions for hunger and poverty" (www.iita.org) 100 acres of per bliss.

After or crazed drive through Nigeria we arrived and were all ready to relax. We had such a great time exploring the trees and seeds that make this place a little haven. Each day we walked around the research fields, looped the lake at sunset and cooled off in the pool.

The best part was the cheap and delicious food. Where else in Nigeria can you get a vanilla soft serve for only 120 naira! This is less than 50 cents. Needless to say sometimes we would have two in a row.

Actually, there was something that topped the food and it was the chance to stroll through nature and behold the beauty of freshly opened water lilies, twittering yellow weavers building their upside down nests, and the drunken jig of butterflies. I felt myself returning to the peace and serenity that is so absent in my daily Lagos grind.

Not an average day

I've gained a new high respect for wax, fire and flour.

On Saturday I was doing some batik art while listening to music on my computer. My computer was really on the fritz so I went to my room to plug it in and try to doctor it. But, I forgot that I had turned the wax on the stove. While I was tweaking the computer and trying all of my technology tricks (starting, shutting down and starting again) I started to hear these little crackles.

As I made my way to the kitchen I found a sight to behold. The whole stove was on fire. Dancing flames were engulfing the pot and were leaping up the ceiling. It was out of control. I stood there for a split second just in awe and then realized I needed to snap into action.

I dashed into the cuboard grabbed our couple gallons of wheat flour and started throwing it on the flames. Nothing! Last time this worked so I was convienced I just needed more flour to suffocate the fire. Finally I just poured the whole container dumping it all at one time. Luckily this worked but now I needed to turn off the burner. When I reached for the knobs they crumpled like sandcastle in my fingers. They were totally melted away. This made turned off the burners impossible.


With the flames under control I tried to call for help. Dial tone...persistent rings... no answer. Tried another. Dial tone...persistent rings... no answer. Shit! I raced down the hall to my bedroom and grabbed my cellphone. Same results. On the four attempt I got an answer and my principal said he would be over to save the day. I called the downstairs security who lazily answered the call and when I told her I had an emergency and to please send up a maintenance man her sultry reply of "What?" put me over the edge. But, my response snapped her to attention. "Help me! I need help! Flat 15!" Within one minute the two heroes were harking my front door.

We cut the power to the stove, we threw a flaming cookbook out the door and shuffled the stove to the back porch. The stove had seen it's end. I guess this is one way to fix our previously broken back burner.

And thus I have a very healthy respect for was, fire, and flour.

A cultural Thanksgiving

Right after school got out I did my 15 minutes tutoring session with Tyron and then quickly made my way home. At home I grabbed my gear and double checked my tickets and then lugged it all downstairs. Matthew and I left with plenty of time to spare. We left at 2:45 for my 7:20 flight to Abuja. Traffic was fairly smooth so I had plenty of wait time in the airport. Which was good because Matthew dropped me off and I went into the airport to check in. At the Aero counter they told me I was at the wrong airport! Quickly I called Matthew and he turned around. Luckily he was just at the gas-station down the road.

After that I just got to wait and try to read my book. I found it difficult because I kept on being startled by the loud announcement of flights departing. There are no big screens announcing departures and arrivals. Instead it comes on loudly over the speakers. I was having a difficult time discerning the strong African accent and speaker fuzz so I became a little anxious that I would know when to board. However everything turned out ok because I double checked with a man sitting next to me and just watched him like a hawk after that.

While in line my eye was caught by some white skin. When you are in a sea of browns and tans the white is like a camera flash. It sort of stuns your eyes for a second and then you do a double take. This time I did a triple take because I recognized the man. I knew him. But from where? Then I saw two other familiar faces these were more freshly imprinted in my memory as I had just gone on a bike ride they organized. All three of us had gone to Benin last year together as well. They were also taking advantage of the long weekend and were heading up the National park of Nigeria. It was a moment of realizing how this huge busy city can become so small and connected.

The flight was quick. I was eager to be greeted by my expected friends. As I walked out there they were. Two short ones and one taller. They came and hugged and loved on me and quickly grabbed my luggage and my hands. Ronke at one time was a friend of a friend. They met while studying in Wales. Now, she is a dear friend of my own. They used to live in Lagos, but a new job moved them to Abuja. On the way home Tomiladi immediately laid down on my lap and quickly feel asleep. Laomi fought sleep for a little longer, but eventually was defeated. Ronke and I chatted about her new job, their smaller house and the promised yet unfulfilled car.

When we pulled up to the house we loaded out of the taxi and Bonkole was there to greet me. Before bed we ate dodo, fried plantain, and watched football on tv. With full bellies we all slept soundly. Ronke shared their bed with me and Bonkole was shuffled to the kids room. The kids were left conked out on the sofas.

The next couple of days quickly fell into routine. I would wake up and sit in the living-room with TBN blasting. Either I would give into it's demand for attention or try to escape into my book. The kids would entertain themselves by bantering and becoming interested in what ever the other was involved in. Bonkole would be absorbed with his ministry work by writing or working on the computer. Ronke would be busy creating her magic in the kitchen and the smells would waft through the house making our stomachs growl.

Ronke serving Jollof rice.

Laiomi would be sent out for fresh eggs and various other ingredients. Tomi and I would tag along for the exercise and experience. We would all take a cup bath of mixed boiled water and cold well water. Then we would either hunt down a taxi or call for one to be zipped into the city of Abuja. We were dropped at Ronkes office where I would try to read my book and once again the kids would banter and become interested in what ever the other was involved with. Do you see a pattern here?

Just when I thought I couldn't take hearing the threat, "I slap you now," there was a much welcomed relief. I was invited to lunch with my friend Ampy. I met her last year when Linda and I visited. She invited me to spend the night as well. We arranged for the next day.




After a nice picnic with my Nigerian family I was dropped off at Ampy's house. This is where my Filipino adventure begins. Now, I was surrounded by a completely different culture. We went to Catholic mass and then to a Christmas bazaar held by Julius Berger. There were three generations of these connected families all enjoying the festive music and feasts. In this culture the men are away from their wives and children. Most of my generation was lonely men and none out about 15 men all of them where alone. I enjoyed the quiet and engaging conversation of Ampy's grandchild as they asked me if I liked princesses and this lead to a long conversation about movies. The next day I joined a birthday party for Sunny Boy and sat around as the older generation played Ma Jong and the younger played poker. I went swimming with the kids. Of course this all happened after a couple of rounds of karaoke.

Taken by four year old Jamie.

It was interesting for me to experience two completely different cultures and to feel the hospitality of both. I came back late Sunday night to Lagos and was refreshed and full of questions for Mike about his culture and his opinions of family dynamics.

Harmattan sunset on the way to the airport.

In my box

The craziest thing happened today. A real surprise.

I went to the front office and the Grace, the secretary, barked at me about how I wasn't in my room when she called. I needed to pay 1000 naira to Elizabeth. She said something about a package. I looked above her head to my said I got a package and I needed to pay 1000 naira to Elizabeth because she paid it for me. I asked why I needed to pay for a package I didn't even order. To that there was no answer.

In my box was this plump package and the return address had the name... Marie Keyzers!
It came! Last March I was really sick with a urinary track infection that put me in the hospital. My friend Marie who is a nurse put together a niffty carepackage for me. It was sent in March from Lacey Washington and was actually delivered here to Lagos to my school today 10 months later.

Who would have ever thought?

She sent a book that I can't wait to read and her note in the front made me realize how well she knew me. When you are surrounded by people who don't know you or get you you forget this feeling of being known and having a history with someone. I found myself thinking, "How did she know that about me?" Then realizing, of course she knows that about me. We've shared so much of life together.

There was a candle, completely smashed, but I could tell from the pieces that it was once very beautiful. The crumbles of the candle got into everything even through the envelop and between the pages of the book. These discoveries made me giggle.

This gives me hope that the package sent by Sandra might one day make it here. But, don't send any right now because with this track record it will arrive long after I've moved on.