January 7, 2008

This morning I woke up early and went outside to look at my surroundings. The hotel courtyard was small and the walls around it high with barbed wire strung along the top. It was super posh. The staff was all yes ma’am. There were gate guards that watched me. (Well, everyone watched me. I was the white lady.) The place didn’t seem very occupied. I went back to my room. Soon thereafter the men came striding in looking sharp with their black suits and ties. They told me to order breakfast. They’d already eaten. They left for their first meeting. I ate breakfast alone. They came to pick me later that morning. We drove all over Kaduna. And they tried bringing me back to the hotel to eat. We waited and waited for the food. Finally, I insisted that we simply buy bananas bread and tea to supplement our collection of non-perishables. I would then have behavior management tools in my hand when tempers began getting a little off kilter. At the time, I didn’t understand why it was so difficult to persuade these guys that I didn’t care what I ate: tea and fruits from the roadside vendors would work for me. Mamma Putt would also work. Food isn’t that important for me but check out the post entitled, “Hunger is the problem.”

We found fruit. I found this photo to be classic because here are guys in perfectly pressed suits stuffing their faces on the dusty, dirty street, only to later hob knob with the politicians, dignitaries, the bishops and archbishop. By the end of the day the suit was dusty and rumpled and the person in it was crabby and frustrated. The lack of a dependable source of power, the maybe we will be on time and maybe we will do what we said we would do Nigerian attitude frustrated a lot of appointments and delayed every day into the next.

Here is the Mamma Putt that is too unsanitary for Americans. The guys later relented to allowing me to partake here. I ate and was satisfied. There were no digestion issues. Again this is our dignified looking PA, stuffing his face with his hands.