Niigeria

Saturday, December 26th, 2009

Special meetings are upon us now. Last week we spent a few days working on visas for Benin, Togo and Nigeria, the last being the most memorable. I have heard many stories about Nigeria but this was my first experience. When we arrived at the Embassy we were given a form to fill out but were told we needed four copies. When there was no sign of him giving us three more copies Kaarina went on a trek to find a photocopier, returning 20 minutes later. After waiting 2 hours for the interviewer to arrive we were called for a 2 minute interview where we were told off for not stapling our photos to the form. WE were wasting HIS time! We got the visa. Welcome to Nigeria.
The border crossing went very smoothly. After the rough reception at the Nigerian Embassy I expected nothing less when we arrived in the country. I was warned about numerous police checks after crossing the border but our passports stayed safe in our pockets as armed and uniformed men waved us through some 20 stops on the way to Lagos. We decided that our taxi man had connections because this was not normal. He had put a shiny leather bag in the trunk just as we were leaving. At first we protested but maybe it was the shiny leather bag that sped up our journey.

Lagos is the most populous city of all Africa with some 20 million people sharing 300 square kilometers. As we entered the outskirts I was awed at the crowds of people milling on the side of the roads. The congested highways are full of dilapidated yellow buses packed full of people. A metal bar cuts into the ribs of the people standing at the door, the only thing to keep them from falling out. Often there's only a foot of space between vehicles and motorbikes speed through, their handlebars bent in so they can navigate the narrow spaces. Although things have quietened down for the holiday period there is still a definate hyperactivity that grips this city.

I am staying with the Amangala's on the outskirts of the city. Yesterday they hosted a meal for us visitors and a number of young friends home from university for the holidays. The daughter of the home laughed at me as a waft of hot pepper coming from her pot made me cough. The sauce made here has a different taste than in Benin. Similar to some tastes that come from the West Indies.
The electricity is off more than it is on. A big generator chugs away most of the day to provide this comfortable home with power. Otherwise beads of sweat drip down our temples as we visit. In the north water is often cut as well. It seems that the hardships in this country surpass what we know in Benin.
Yet this country is far more developed than Benin. Oil has brought foreign money into the country. Beside the crumpled minibuses men in tailored suits drive shiny SUVs. Fastfood restaurants are more common here although MacDonald's hasn't arrived. When I arrived in Benin I was told that I would likely not see a mall during my stay here. Today some of the young friends took me to Victoria Island's secret, a big airconditioned shopping mall. Packed full of people dressed to impress. It even had a coffee shop!!

Now we are preparing for the meetings tomorrow. It looks like some 50 people could fit into the yard where it will be held. It has been such a pleasure to be immersed in English, albeit hard to understand and mixed with Pidgen. Nigeria has a reputation for corruption, kidnappings, and being overpopulated among other things but my experience has betrayed that reputation and left me with a smile.

Next stop: Togo. Until then. Alize

Ninth Impressions

Sunday, December 6th, 2009

Our days in Parakou are coming to a close. At this time next week we
will be in Cotonou with Rosanne and Carole at the Godomey bach just
west of Cotonou. Kaarina and I have been invited to Lagos, Nigeria for
the December 27 special meeting before continuing with the Togo and
Benin specials. We will spend next week working on visas for Nigeria
and Togo, and I will also renew my Benin visa.

Our missions here are ending for now with two steady listeners among a
number of others that come. These two haven't yet been mentioned.
Kaarina took a fan to be repaired at a roadside shack and found the
young man diligently reading his Bible. She invited him to the Friday
meetings and he has come regularly to more than half our mission.
On Sundays Viviane, who is engaged to one of our young friends, has
come regularly. We all had lunch together today, sour corn porridge,
fried river carp (head and all) and a hot tomato and onion sauce to
help it down. She found out a while back that I haven't driven a
motorbike yet and offered a lesson while we were waiting for the food.
I considered the chance of her not coming to another meeting if I
crashed her bike but she was keen, so off we went buzzing over bumps
and through sandpits. The things you do when you're in Africa!

On Wednesday we had our last meeting under the mango tree. As we
waited for a taxi the children sang to us and taught me a jumping game
to the amusement of the walkers. We clapped and jumped to a silent
beat, randomly sticking a leg out. I must have stuck out the right leg
at the right time as I apparently won.
We happened upon the same taxi as last time and again had the luxery
of our own seats until two young Peuhl men waved us down pointing at
their cow. We watched as the cow was hoisted into the empty trunk then
manipulated and tied like a pretzel so it couldn't do dammage. No
wonder the meat here is so tough! Some school girls walking home held
the trunk open and in return they got a ride to the next town.
As we sped along they started asking questions. Why don't you wear
jewelry? Often if there is a question of a childs gender we look for
the earrings that have peirced the girls ears from infancy. Clothes
here are not gender specific. Boys wear pink pants because pants are
for boys and they have no concept of pink being a girls colour. Why
don't you put braids in your hair? To their delight I let them touch
my hair as we discussed the difference between their hair and ours.
These girls were exceptionally different in appearance and manner
from the girls that the young Peuhl shepherd would be used to. Peuhl
women love bright clothes. Their unearthly jewelery and makeup is
something out of the National Geographic. Thick metal braids hang at
their temples from under a neon head scarf, pink paint dots the tips
of their noses and their high cheekbones, and bracelets climb to their
elbows. But their vibrant display of body art betrays their
personality. One day I wanted to ask one where she got her bright
material. As I approached she ran from me and hid behind the young man
she was with. The schoolgirls' unabashed curiosity stood out against
the often silent presence of a Peuhl woman.

Just as the hundreds of tribal languages in Benin rarely resemble
each other, each tribe has it's own character and it's own facial
scarring. Near Djougou the people are marked with three long slashes
on each cheek as if they've all survived fights with a wildcat. Other
tribes mark the forehead or temples. A tribe from the Atacora region
bears some 50 razor thin lines across the forehead and cheeks down to
the chin.
A seamstress with such markings asked me to take her to Canada but
was concerned that the people might not like her face. She told me
that she was the age of her hip height son (who bears no markings)
when it was done and remembers the pain. I cringed as I ran my fingers
over the barely there marks. She laughed when I let her touch the hair
on my arms, admittedly a poor exchange.

Although the call of a bustling city to the south is getting
stronger each day I find there is more and more that I enjoy about
this dried out north. Before we head south we will take our last trip
to Djougou, stopping in Natitingou with Medard and Serge to help them
install some furniture in their new bach.

Until next time... Alize