observe and learn quick

The journey begins before it has begun. It is hard to wrap my mind around what I’m getting into. Observe. Observe. Observe. Meditate and put yourself there. Think around the obstacles. Over under and through them.

First it was the shots.
The tetanus was the killer. I woke up feeling like someone had thrown me into the dryer with a bunch of rocks. The typhoid vaccination, taken orally, made for early mornings and later on for some vivid dreams. Nothing too spectacular and revealing though, so everyone’s safe. :)

Next and now it still is the visa.
The day after Christmas I called my visa processor and asked what was going on. He called around and checked some things. He called back and said the embassy had made no progress on it. They’d been sitting on it all month. What to do? I asked him to send my passport back. I began scheming. Do I go without a visa and smile innocently? Do I get one from the Embassy in The Hague during my lay over in Amsterdam? After much dilemma and waiting and hurrying and waiting and hurrying, pounding on closed doors, not taking no for an answer. I’ve changed my flight to leave tentatively on the 2nd instead of the 30th so the ticket doesn’t die. This buys me time to pound on some doors with the visa. My friend from Liberia got to work right away. First she reprimanded me for not telling her sooner. She had just had a friend from Nigeria, who works for the consulate, attempt to get a visa for Nigeria. They’d been sitting on her passport. However, because she worked for the network of embassies and consulates she had a connection who then went to a colleague’s desk at the place of his employment and processed her visa, paid for it and sent it back to her. This is now the thing that she is doing for me. This is how things get done the Nigerian way. Although the antics I’ve engaged in thus far are a bit more extreme than name dropping and pulling strings. Everyone should know somebody who knows somebody who knows somebody.

Currently, I am sitting in a Panera using the internet to navigate the Atlanta transit system to get to the Nigerian Consulate tomorrow between 10 and 2 pm to entreat Mr D to issue me a visa in honor of my name dropping friend who called from Nigeria to give me this man’s name. This plan emerged last night after a fit of despair. Then, I spoke to my sister who lives down here, while online and decided to gamble for a cheap ticket on priceline. This morning at the airport I was thoroughly searched for buying this ticket so last minute. My sister will come by to pick me up tomorrow after the consulate visit. Meanwhile I am logging hours at work, writing, reading and wishing I could take a nap. I’ve only managed to catch an hour last night and four the night before, so I’ll sleep well tonight no matter where I find a place to rest my head. No car this time, though. Tomorrow bright and early I will find a place to don my disguise as a distinguished lady.

mongoose parable #1

The mongoose and the charmer sit down to determine the content of the first shipment of tools to be sent to the sight. The pile was messy and disorganized. The charmer, distracted by the onlookers gathering, began to entertain them with the tricks he had taught his pet turtle dove and Cobra. He brought them out, one at a time, lest they should tangle with each other and both perish. Meanwhile, the mongoose, sorted through the tools, selected the ones that were most sure to harm the workers, setting them aside. He placed them in a box, notifying the charmer of their disuse. The charmer, indignant, cried, “What! Do you not trust my building crew? Why do you fear these?”

It is simply better not to use them for this project responded the Mongoose. I fear not, we simply have too many curious onlookers to risk their use. The charmer fed his cobra a rat and put it back into its birdcage. He stroked the turtledove and put it back into its cage. The two he hung on either end of a long stick balanced across his shoulders. He set off for the construction site.

mongoose parables

I am told that the Nigerian people live and breathe metaphors. That might be quite a stretch for one weaned on literalism. So I will venture to entertain with a continuing parable, called the Mongoose parables: a whimsical tale of a talking mongoose, a snake charmer and his pet cobra and turtledove. The charmer has been contracted to construct a house of undetermined size and yet to be determined design. Why he builds it so—who can tell? Who he contracts to help—yet more interesting. The mongoose, distracted by the mentioned imaginative structure has been invited to contribute. A curious band of assistants and onlookers gather to watch.

introduction

Here I will chronicle my first trip to the other hemisphere. Lots of people ask, what will you be doing in Nigeria?” Observing and plotting and scheming. I’m not going as a part of an intentional mission group but in acceptance of the personal invitation of a friend, or more appropriately, a friend of a friend. I prefer this sort of invitation because it takes most of the American buffers off of American experiencing other cultures. I also strongly believe one must be a student of the culture an context before one can ever intend to do mission effectively or sensitively.

My Nigerian friend is Father Vincent. He’s finishing a double master at St. Cloud State. I met him at the graduation of another friend. On his interim break he decided to return to his home to visit and take care of family affairs. His Sr sister also resides in Nigeria and will be “entertaining” me. She is a nun and the caretaker of the family of 10, who lost their mother at a young age. Only four or five of them remain alive of which Vincent is the youngest. His father is 89.