The heat has become stifling, unbearable and quite frankly, mean. NEPA has all but disappeared, so it makes matters all the more worse… I was listening to my ipod when I was reminded of a song written by my dear friend Natalie Fine Shapiro. It has become my mantra, my slogan for the weather here.
It’s so damn hot,
When will the temperature drop?
Where oh where’s the Minnesota cold to cool us all off.
If it were snowing right now I’d run out side and roll around,
But since it’s not,
Take the sheets out of the freezer,
And cool me down.
My body’s dripping with sweat,
My dress is soaked and stuck to my skin.
Will you please carry me to the nearest swimming pool and drop me in.
Below the water’s so wet,
I don’t think I’ll ever surface again.
Feel free to leave me, but if you need me,
I’ll be waiting in the deep end.
It’s so damn hot,
When will the temperature drop?
Where oh where’s the Minnesota cold to cool us all off.
If it were snowing right now I’d run out side and roll around,
But since it’s not,
Take the sheets out of the freezer,
And lay me down.
The sun is frying my brain,
My consciousness is starting to fade.
You people running around the lake have completely gone insane.
I’m gonna go find me some shade,
Drop to my knees and start praying for rain.
And if my prayers are ignored
I guess I’ll keep complaining.
It’s so damn hot,
When will the temperature drop?
Where oh where’s the Minnesota cold to cool us all off.
If it were snowing right now I’d run out side and roll around,
But since it’s not,
Take the sheets out of the freezer,
And lay me down.
I can’t breathe through all this humidity.
I can’t believe it’s only 97 degrees.
I think I need a drink before I faint baby please??
Fetch me a cold glass of Minute Made Lemonade,
Vitamin C guaranteed.
It’s so damn hot,
When will the temperature drop?
Where oh where’s the Minnesota cold to cool us all off.
If it were snowing right now I’d run out side and roll around,
But since it’s not,
Take the sheets out of the freezer,
And cool me down.
-Natalie Fine
Let me see if I can somehow describe how hot it is. By 7 am I am awake, and hoping that the heat will decide to stay away for the day. By 8 am I already have thin coating of sweat across my body. By 9 am I have put my second layer of deodorant on. By 2 pm, I have collapsed on my bed and started praying for NEPA to turn on the fan. By 3:30 pm any thoughts of leaving, therefore moving, have been abandoned for a better idea: lying around. By about 6:30 pm it starts to cool down and I can breathe again. By 8:30 pm I have taken my cold shower, am lying on my bed in my shorts and bra and hoping that the night stays cool, and grants me a peaceful slumber.
Can anyone tell me how hot it actually is? I am so curious… It would be hilarious if it was like 70 degrees.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
An ‘Alarming’ Situation
2/26/08
Kerry’s alarm clock began beeping at 5:32 am this morning. Usually Kerry gets it right away, and I don’t even hear it. But this morning was different as we had had a particularly bad night: hot, humid and no NEPA. When the beeping didn’t stop I began to wonder if it was my alarm going off instead of Kerry’s. So I picked up my alarm and held it close to my ear. The sound didn’t seem to be coming from there. So I put it down and closed my eyes. The alarm continued to sound. I picked my alarm up again and turned it off, thinking I must have been mistaken. But the sound kept coming! I was wondering if something was wrong with me. I continued to look at my alarm as if to will the sound to stop. Finally I realized that it wasn’t my alarm at all, but Kerry’s. My immediate reaction was this, “I wish I had a long stick to poke her with”. I really wanted to wake her up, but I was convinced that the only way to do that was by the use of a poking mechanism, not words… The concept of simply telling her to wake up never entered my mind. “If I had a stick, things would be so easy right now”, I thought. Suddenly, the alarm stopped. After about 5 minutes, Kerry got out of bed and started her morning routine. I went back to sleep. Later as I was regaling Kerry with this tale did I realize just how silly the whole thing was.
Kerry’s alarm clock began beeping at 5:32 am this morning. Usually Kerry gets it right away, and I don’t even hear it. But this morning was different as we had had a particularly bad night: hot, humid and no NEPA. When the beeping didn’t stop I began to wonder if it was my alarm going off instead of Kerry’s. So I picked up my alarm and held it close to my ear. The sound didn’t seem to be coming from there. So I put it down and closed my eyes. The alarm continued to sound. I picked my alarm up again and turned it off, thinking I must have been mistaken. But the sound kept coming! I was wondering if something was wrong with me. I continued to look at my alarm as if to will the sound to stop. Finally I realized that it wasn’t my alarm at all, but Kerry’s. My immediate reaction was this, “I wish I had a long stick to poke her with”. I really wanted to wake her up, but I was convinced that the only way to do that was by the use of a poking mechanism, not words… The concept of simply telling her to wake up never entered my mind. “If I had a stick, things would be so easy right now”, I thought. Suddenly, the alarm stopped. After about 5 minutes, Kerry got out of bed and started her morning routine. I went back to sleep. Later as I was regaling Kerry with this tale did I realize just how silly the whole thing was.
Monday, February 25, 2008
Hello Onyacha!
We had our first market experience on Saturday, and I think that the word Onyacha is permanently etched in my brain. It means white person, and it was shouted at me hundreds of times today from all directions. It was often accompanied with, “Welcome to Nigeria, the land of blessings”. We were definitely a sight to see today as we walked through the small walkways of vendors selling everything from fruit and vegetables, meat, shoes, toilet paper, clothes (both traditional and modern) and pirated music.
There were so many sights and smell all around me. I didn’t know where to look; all I could do was follow my Nigerian guide, who knew exactly what she was doing. I was so overwhelmed that I had a hard time saying anything, but Kerry was not so shy. Every time someone shouted “Hello Onyacha, welcome to Nigeria” she would laugh and say “Thank you!” They relished in her presence, and she relished in theirs.
The streets were very small, and I cannot even venture a guess to how big and expansive that market was. The sisters said we did not even see a fraction of it. But the small streets were filled with people pushing wheel barrows shouting “uzo!” at anyone in their way. The wheel barrow pushers were not going to stop, so if you got in the way, too bad for you. I almost got clipped once, as a wheel barrow was headed towards me I moved, but the wheel got caught in a rut and almost got me anyway…
My first market experience was overwhelming to say the least and so very intriguing. I left the market tired, thirsty, hungry, dirty and ready for a nap. I can’t wait for my next excursion.
There were so many sights and smell all around me. I didn’t know where to look; all I could do was follow my Nigerian guide, who knew exactly what she was doing. I was so overwhelmed that I had a hard time saying anything, but Kerry was not so shy. Every time someone shouted “Hello Onyacha, welcome to Nigeria” she would laugh and say “Thank you!” They relished in her presence, and she relished in theirs.
The streets were very small, and I cannot even venture a guess to how big and expansive that market was. The sisters said we did not even see a fraction of it. But the small streets were filled with people pushing wheel barrows shouting “uzo!” at anyone in their way. The wheel barrow pushers were not going to stop, so if you got in the way, too bad for you. I almost got clipped once, as a wheel barrow was headed towards me I moved, but the wheel got caught in a rut and almost got me anyway…
My first market experience was overwhelming to say the least and so very intriguing. I left the market tired, thirsty, hungry, dirty and ready for a nap. I can’t wait for my next excursion.
‘Wow’ you did laundry?
I did my laundry today, and let me tell you, it was quite the experience… I brought my bucket out to the back of the compound and dumped my laundry detergent into it. I have washed my clothes by hand before, but I always had a scrubbing board or something. This was quite different, and almost strenuous! I was bending over this small bucket, scrubbing away at my clothes. After I got them cleaned and hung up, the wind started picking up, whipping my wet clothes in my face, and scattering my not yet washed clothes into the yard. I ran yelping off after them, all while trying to wipe my off my now dripping glasses and tripping over my bucket and falling into the dirty water in the yard. I was quite a site to see. I am sure if anyone had been watching me, they would have been entertained. And actually, as I told Happiness about it later, she did laugh, and followed that with a ‘wow’.
There are a few things here that are verbal trademarks. One of them is when Happiness says ‘wow’. There is no way to describe her tone as she says it, but it brings Kerry and I incredible joy and laughter. She says it all the time, anytime she is proud of us or astonished by us. We will come home from school and she says, “You came from school?”, we reply with “yes” and she says “wow”. All this is said with the widest eyes and the biggest smile.
Another verbal trademark here is when people say “well done”. It is said in a similar way as “wow”, and used if we have done anything noteworthy, and sometimes even not noteworthy… I will be reading, “well done”. I can be eating, “well done”. How about putting dishes away? “well done”! I once decided to ‘turn the tables’ on my Nigerian friends, and when one of the sisters had baked a birthday cake, I told her “well done”, in the accent that I am so used to now. The sisters burst out laughing, slapped me on the back, and hugged me, so proud of me for picking up on their lingo!
Another thing I am slowly getting used to is when people say “welcome” to me. At first I thought they were saying “you’re welcome” as a response to my thank you. But it turns out they are welcoming me to Nigeria. I have been her over a week now and I am still being welcomed by the women I live with. It is just yet another thing I smile at, and one of the many things I am grateful for here.
There are a few things here that are verbal trademarks. One of them is when Happiness says ‘wow’. There is no way to describe her tone as she says it, but it brings Kerry and I incredible joy and laughter. She says it all the time, anytime she is proud of us or astonished by us. We will come home from school and she says, “You came from school?”, we reply with “yes” and she says “wow”. All this is said with the widest eyes and the biggest smile.
Another verbal trademark here is when people say “well done”. It is said in a similar way as “wow”, and used if we have done anything noteworthy, and sometimes even not noteworthy… I will be reading, “well done”. I can be eating, “well done”. How about putting dishes away? “well done”! I once decided to ‘turn the tables’ on my Nigerian friends, and when one of the sisters had baked a birthday cake, I told her “well done”, in the accent that I am so used to now. The sisters burst out laughing, slapped me on the back, and hugged me, so proud of me for picking up on their lingo!
Another thing I am slowly getting used to is when people say “welcome” to me. At first I thought they were saying “you’re welcome” as a response to my thank you. But it turns out they are welcoming me to Nigeria. I have been her over a week now and I am still being welcomed by the women I live with. It is just yet another thing I smile at, and one of the many things I am grateful for here.
Music is the universal language
Thursday morning came and I knew I wanted to keep singing with my students from the Primary 4A classroom. Those kids have an affinity for singing, and when they open their mouths, I get a yearning to do it too. So I went through my song book and picked some songs I thought I might be able to teach them. I started with Lean on Me, a classic, and easy to learn. I walked into the classroom, greeted with the now familiar greeting, “Good morning Auntie, may God bless you”. I asked the kids if they wanted to learn a new song. The answer was a resounding “YES”! I sang the song through once, and asked if they liked it. They did. So they started to repeat the phrases after me, until they could do it by themselves. I wrote the lyrics on the chalk board and they copied them eagerly. At the end of the 40 minutes, they had the song almost down pat. It wonderful to hear them singing a song which is so special to me, and also putting their own inflections into it, singing with their wonderful Nigerian accents. They were excited to be singing it, and told me they wanted to perform it for morning assembly some day. As I was getting ready to leave they stood up and instead of saying their usual goodbye of “Goodbye Auntie, have a nice afternoon”, they said, “Thank you Auntie for teaching us a song.” It brought a smile to my lips. And best of all, as I was walking down the hall, I heard them keep practicing the song! As corny as it sounds, it brought tears to my eyes! I was so touched that they would sing with me.
One of the wonderful things about Lean on Me is how many places I have sung that song, places that I love. When I was in India, my group sang that song almost every time we traveled to a new site, as a greeting to all the people who welcomed us. We got that song down to a science, and it sounded so good, harmonies and all! Later I found out that the girls who lived at Visthar in India learned the song in Kannada (the language of Karnataka State). As staff as Camp Courage, we also sang Lean on Me to the campers at closing campfire. This song has special meaning to me, and feels so wonderful that I can bring what it means to more people.
Sometimes in our lives we all have pain, we all have sorrow
But if we are wise, we know that there’s always tomorrow.
Lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long till I’m gonna need someone to lean on.
Please swallow your pride if I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs that you won’t mention
So just call on me brother, if you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem you’ll understand
We all need somebody to lean on
Lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long till I’m gonna need someone to lean on.
One of the wonderful things about Lean on Me is how many places I have sung that song, places that I love. When I was in India, my group sang that song almost every time we traveled to a new site, as a greeting to all the people who welcomed us. We got that song down to a science, and it sounded so good, harmonies and all! Later I found out that the girls who lived at Visthar in India learned the song in Kannada (the language of Karnataka State). As staff as Camp Courage, we also sang Lean on Me to the campers at closing campfire. This song has special meaning to me, and feels so wonderful that I can bring what it means to more people.
Sometimes in our lives we all have pain, we all have sorrow
But if we are wise, we know that there’s always tomorrow.
Lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long till I’m gonna need someone to lean on.
Please swallow your pride if I have things you need to borrow
For no one can fill those of your needs that you won’t mention
So just call on me brother, if you need a hand
We all need somebody to lean on
I just might have a problem you’ll understand
We all need somebody to lean on
Lean on me, when you’re not strong, I’ll be your friend, I’ll help you carry on
For it won’t be long till I’m gonna need someone to lean on.
A Water Problem
Water is a very precious commodity here. To conserve water in the compound, the sisters don’t turn on the water except to fill their tubs every few days. Because Kerry and I are sharing a room, we go through water a little faster than the rest of the sisters, who have single rooms. Every three days or so, the water gets turned on, and we place the giant, plastic tub under the shower head to get filled. We then use this water for flushing the toilet, brushing our teeth and bathing. It is so interesting how this makes a person conscious of how much water they are using.
Normally, when using the toilet, you flush after every use. But here, it would waste so much water, almost 2 gallons every time you flush! And when it rains only every two or three months during the dry season, you just don’t have the resources to flush that liberally. So Kerry and I have adopted the ‘flush only if there is something there to flush’ policy.
In order to flush though, it is not as simple as holding down the lever. Nothing is that simple here in Nigeria. You have to take the top off of the tank, and pour a bucket of water into the toilet, then flush!
Showering here is similar, and doesn’t involve an actual shower, but a bucket of cold water and a small bucket for scooping. It is wonderful how your body can train itself to need things. In America, people feel like they have to shower everyday, and wash their hair that often as well. Here, that would be a luxury that is not available. So I am not washing my hair more than every few days, and it looks decent. I am washing every night though, because people who knew me in India remember that my ‘tan’ after four months took several days of intense scrubbing to wash off… I am determined to not let that happen here! Cleanliness is my middle name!
But, as we are talking about water, calamity struck us on Tuesday night! We were told the sisters were going to ‘turn on the water’ so we could fill our buckets. So we got all ready, and we were really excited. Well, I was excited… Kerry might have just been humoring me… So we turned the tap and water started to fill our buckets. After a few minutes though, it turned from the steady pour to a slow trickle, and finally stopped. The water is out. They tried the lower tank, and that is gone too. Now the sisters have to go to town and buy a tanker of water, which can be very expensive.
I tried to figure out how much water we use here. Every few days the water gets turned on, and we put our big black bucket under the shower head to fill up. Kerry and I think that maybe we can get 20 gallons of water (that is probably over estimating too) into our bucket. And the water in that bucket will be used to flush the toilet, wash our hands, face, feet, brush our teeth, and wash our hair and bodies for about four or five days. That is insane, especially when we think about how much water we use at home! To flush the toilet at home takes about 2 gallons of water. So, the water that we use in five days here would only last for one day of toilet flushing back home. It is insane to think about really.
It reminded me of when I was younger, maybe fifth grade or something; there was this rumor that we were going to have to ship water from Lake Superior to Mexico, because they were running out of water. I don’t know if this was true, and it really doesn’t matter. But my reaction was ‘no’! I really thought that they must be wasting their water, because, how could you ‘run out of water’??? Now I understand, and I know what it feels like to conserve water, and really how lucky we are to have had such an abundance of water.
Normally, when using the toilet, you flush after every use. But here, it would waste so much water, almost 2 gallons every time you flush! And when it rains only every two or three months during the dry season, you just don’t have the resources to flush that liberally. So Kerry and I have adopted the ‘flush only if there is something there to flush’ policy.
In order to flush though, it is not as simple as holding down the lever. Nothing is that simple here in Nigeria. You have to take the top off of the tank, and pour a bucket of water into the toilet, then flush!
Showering here is similar, and doesn’t involve an actual shower, but a bucket of cold water and a small bucket for scooping. It is wonderful how your body can train itself to need things. In America, people feel like they have to shower everyday, and wash their hair that often as well. Here, that would be a luxury that is not available. So I am not washing my hair more than every few days, and it looks decent. I am washing every night though, because people who knew me in India remember that my ‘tan’ after four months took several days of intense scrubbing to wash off… I am determined to not let that happen here! Cleanliness is my middle name!
But, as we are talking about water, calamity struck us on Tuesday night! We were told the sisters were going to ‘turn on the water’ so we could fill our buckets. So we got all ready, and we were really excited. Well, I was excited… Kerry might have just been humoring me… So we turned the tap and water started to fill our buckets. After a few minutes though, it turned from the steady pour to a slow trickle, and finally stopped. The water is out. They tried the lower tank, and that is gone too. Now the sisters have to go to town and buy a tanker of water, which can be very expensive.
I tried to figure out how much water we use here. Every few days the water gets turned on, and we put our big black bucket under the shower head to fill up. Kerry and I think that maybe we can get 20 gallons of water (that is probably over estimating too) into our bucket. And the water in that bucket will be used to flush the toilet, wash our hands, face, feet, brush our teeth, and wash our hair and bodies for about four or five days. That is insane, especially when we think about how much water we use at home! To flush the toilet at home takes about 2 gallons of water. So, the water that we use in five days here would only last for one day of toilet flushing back home. It is insane to think about really.
It reminded me of when I was younger, maybe fifth grade or something; there was this rumor that we were going to have to ship water from Lake Superior to Mexico, because they were running out of water. I don’t know if this was true, and it really doesn’t matter. But my reaction was ‘no’! I really thought that they must be wasting their water, because, how could you ‘run out of water’??? Now I understand, and I know what it feels like to conserve water, and really how lucky we are to have had such an abundance of water.
Nigerian Children
I have been working at the school the past week, and the children are amazing, lively, and full of energy. At first they were scared, and wouldn’t come near us. But as they got to know us better they became more outgoing. Our interactions with them are a game now: chase the onyacha’s (white people) and see who can touch them the most. They also like to mimic our every move, and follow us constantly…
During the afternoon break, I decided to go and play with them, to try and get them more comfortable with me. They stood in front of me, whispering, and giggling, but not doing anything. I asked them if they would sing for me. They nodded fervently. They broke into a Nigerian-ized version of Jingle Bells. I laughed, as Christmas was two months ago, and we are in the season of Easter now. So I asked them if they knew any other songs beside Christmas songs. They nodded again and started singing I want to wish you a merry Christmas, not understanding me. As the musical session went on, they added movements to their songs, singing songs in English, French and Igbo (the language of Enugu state). I tried to do their dances with them and they laughed so hard that they fell on the ground. Soon I started doing my own dances, which they loved and copied immediately. If anyone has actually seen me dance, I am sure you are shaking your heads right now, saddened by all of these new dance moves making it big all over Nigeria. Soon it will be a West African craze, and it won’t be long till they reach America I am sure… But soon after I started dancing, the running commenced, and I was being chased all around the field in front of the school. I tried to explain to them the art of ‘tag’, but instead of them chasing each other, they just kept chasing me, hoping for an excuse to touch me. Duck Duck Gray Duck was also lost on them.
The next morning after our field extravaganza Kerry and I each went into our own class rooms, to hang out with the kiddies. I asked the kids to sing to me again, because I knew they liked it, and it is a good ice breaker. They would sing a song, and I would respond with a song. I sang You Are My Sunshine, which was a big hit. Some of them already knew it and sang along with me. It was a moment that I wished I knew how to play the guitar are thought of my dad. When he was in the Peace Corps in Morocco, he would teach English to his students by way of Bob Dylan. I hope that music will be just as much a part of my time here in Nigeria as it was for him in Morocco. I am going to sing with them every day, and hopefully, they will teach me something about music!
During the afternoon break, I decided to go and play with them, to try and get them more comfortable with me. They stood in front of me, whispering, and giggling, but not doing anything. I asked them if they would sing for me. They nodded fervently. They broke into a Nigerian-ized version of Jingle Bells. I laughed, as Christmas was two months ago, and we are in the season of Easter now. So I asked them if they knew any other songs beside Christmas songs. They nodded again and started singing I want to wish you a merry Christmas, not understanding me. As the musical session went on, they added movements to their songs, singing songs in English, French and Igbo (the language of Enugu state). I tried to do their dances with them and they laughed so hard that they fell on the ground. Soon I started doing my own dances, which they loved and copied immediately. If anyone has actually seen me dance, I am sure you are shaking your heads right now, saddened by all of these new dance moves making it big all over Nigeria. Soon it will be a West African craze, and it won’t be long till they reach America I am sure… But soon after I started dancing, the running commenced, and I was being chased all around the field in front of the school. I tried to explain to them the art of ‘tag’, but instead of them chasing each other, they just kept chasing me, hoping for an excuse to touch me. Duck Duck Gray Duck was also lost on them.
The next morning after our field extravaganza Kerry and I each went into our own class rooms, to hang out with the kiddies. I asked the kids to sing to me again, because I knew they liked it, and it is a good ice breaker. They would sing a song, and I would respond with a song. I sang You Are My Sunshine, which was a big hit. Some of them already knew it and sang along with me. It was a moment that I wished I knew how to play the guitar are thought of my dad. When he was in the Peace Corps in Morocco, he would teach English to his students by way of Bob Dylan. I hope that music will be just as much a part of my time here in Nigeria as it was for him in Morocco. I am going to sing with them every day, and hopefully, they will teach me something about music!
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