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.