Tuesday, January 8, 2008
Mongoose parables #3
The charmer was not to be seen once he made his way off in a huff. Representatives came in his stead. They accompanied the mongoose, making their way to the local market for lunches intended for the workers on the project. It was a colorful place full of noisy vendors. There, other charmers with caged pets attempted to snag the attention of the mongoose company. They were especially taken with the mongoose’s beautiful coat. They offered some great deals but the mongoose decided to not purchase a pet at this time.
Mongoose parables #2
There are others who have spoken of building houses. “Maybe it is time for this one to build a house,” they will say. The sacred heart rabbits spoke of it while nibbling cabbage and sipping tea. It was a conversation smattered with native tongue and phrases in euphemistic meaning. Later one stopped us to inquire of us an address, perhaps it was the one who needed to build a house. One wouldn’t want to build it in the wrong place. No?
January 4,2008
Taking photos at the roadside market.
We stopped to get roadside fruit and yams. The yams here are the size of your forearm. The vendors swarmed the car with their food products on trays. After it became apparent that I wouldn’t buy (I have absolutely no naira because I haven’t changed over anything yet) I got out my camera and snapped some photos. It was a crowd pleaser as I could show them the end picture. Two little girls were so shy they disappeared when I took one out the car window, in their direction. It sent us both into a fit of giggles. I checked out all the head coverings the girls were wearing and had the one who’s wrap looked most like mine—I had her retie mine. There is no blending in here. I am white. I am pinkish white by comparison. I no longer sport olive toned skin, tweaking it this way or that. I am white, so very white.
The only complaint I have here is that they treat me too well. I don’t want to eat at these restaurants where they have the secured front gate and you see other white people there. I want to eat at Mamma Putt. Oh, well, so I fill up on cooked vegetables at the fancy places. Mamma Putt seems to do a lot of rice and meat and that is about all. I also told them I want to stay in the village. That would be the place where there is no electricity and running water. Mary thought I would go to visit for a short time but not to stay there. I told her this is the place I wish to spend most of my time.
January 4, 2008
I’m in Jos tonight, in a guest hospitality house of a Catholic center. We traveled up from Abuja this afternoon. I spent the whole day with Mary, her driver Ojo and Father Vincent’s next older brother Thaddeus.
All of my checked luggage was lost. It matters not though. Thaddeus will be following up on that, while Mary and I will continue to do our things in Jos and the village. I came prepared with enough in my carry on to survive. They just had me check my contact solution at the airport. I also have no pajamas until the sister gave me a housecoat tonight. Mostly, the items were gifts and fabric to give away. I was looking through the handcrafted items my mother sells. Among them were these wildly colorful baby quilts and braided rugs. Nobody in America finds them very appealing. But here in Africa, it is a different story. I think the items would go very well with people here.
I can see the likeness between Vincent and Mary. They are almost like twins in their opinionated commentary they carry with them everywhere. It is not uncommon to hear Mary give a frank commentary on what should be the case and what must be done and end in “...and you will do it!” The conversation is punctuated with a bit of name calling in a manner of speaking. A girl served me a donut on a napkin and she sent her to the kitchen “to do better than that, bush girl.” And when we stopped for Mary to “take lunch” at a roadside restaurant or a “Mamma Putt” as they call it, she asked for a table knife to eat her meat and they said they didn’t have one, she called over the waiter and gave him a hard time and then she called over the manager and told him that when he goes to the market on Saturday that he should look into some table knives. He agreed to do it of course, after she began the conversation by asking if they had no table knives because they were mamma putt.
Thaddeus is much more calm. He lives on the outskirts of Abuja with his wife and one child. Mary is a wonderful traveling companion. We’ve covered politics, religion, sports, the economy, trade, climate changes and so on.
The roads are full of people walking along side them. The women wear the beautiful colorful dresses all the time. They all wear them. There are very few who wear jeans. The men also wear beautiful traditional clothing and they should as it is likely the coolest clothing for the weather.
The weather is hot during the day. But it is not at all unbearable. It is cool at night. But it is dusty also. Where there is haze, smog and fog in the US to reduce visibility. Here there is dust in the air and it reduces the visibility drastically.
I’m in Jos tonight, in a guest hospitality house of a Catholic center. We traveled up from Abuja this afternoon. I spent the whole day with Mary, her driver Ojo and Father Vincent’s next older brother Thaddeus.
All of my checked luggage was lost. It matters not though. Thaddeus will be following up on that, while Mary and I will continue to do our things in Jos and the village. I came prepared with enough in my carry on to survive. They just had me check my contact solution at the airport. I also have no pajamas until the sister gave me a housecoat tonight. Mostly, the items were gifts and fabric to give away. I was looking through the handcrafted items my mother sells. Among them were these wildly colorful baby quilts and braided rugs. Nobody in America finds them very appealing. But here in Africa, it is a different story. I think the items would go very well with people here.
I can see the likeness between Vincent and Mary. They are almost like twins in their opinionated commentary they carry with them everywhere. It is not uncommon to hear Mary give a frank commentary on what should be the case and what must be done and end in “...and you will do it!” The conversation is punctuated with a bit of name calling in a manner of speaking. A girl served me a donut on a napkin and she sent her to the kitchen “to do better than that, bush girl.” And when we stopped for Mary to “take lunch” at a roadside restaurant or a “Mamma Putt” as they call it, she asked for a table knife to eat her meat and they said they didn’t have one, she called over the waiter and gave him a hard time and then she called over the manager and told him that when he goes to the market on Saturday that he should look into some table knives. He agreed to do it of course, after she began the conversation by asking if they had no table knives because they were mamma putt.
Thaddeus is much more calm. He lives on the outskirts of Abuja with his wife and one child. Mary is a wonderful traveling companion. We’ve covered politics, religion, sports, the economy, trade, climate changes and so on.
The roads are full of people walking along side them. The women wear the beautiful colorful dresses all the time. They all wear them. There are very few who wear jeans. The men also wear beautiful traditional clothing and they should as it is likely the coolest clothing for the weather.
The weather is hot during the day. But it is not at all unbearable. It is cool at night. But it is dusty also. Where there is haze, smog and fog in the US to reduce visibility. Here there is dust in the air and it reduces the visibility drastically.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
checking in
Currently I am in the director's office of Our Lady of the Apostles Hospital in Jos Sister Mary would be that director. I only have time for a short note to contact the rest of the world back home, as it seems this lady is a very busy lady. Well, she is the director here of a 200 bed hospital and she runs it with an iron fist and with much laughter and joking and opinions. A very interesting lady she is.
Today I will be going to the village, Kaduna. I have also heard it refered to as Zankwana. They weren't going to take me there but for a short visit but I insisted. I want to take most of my time there I told them. So, I will stay there till Wednesday supposedly--Nigerian expectation of course. There is no power or running water there. But I am ready for it. If I have any complaints thus far is that I am treated too well. I want to take my dinner with Mamma Putt. I want to take my rest under a tree. I want to wash in cold water. And I nearly lost this post due to power outage. I wonder what the sergeons are doing?
Today I will be going to the village, Kaduna. I have also heard it refered to as Zankwana. They weren't going to take me there but for a short visit but I insisted. I want to take most of my time there I told them. So, I will stay there till Wednesday supposedly--Nigerian expectation of course. There is no power or running water there. But I am ready for it. If I have any complaints thus far is that I am treated too well. I want to take my dinner with Mamma Putt. I want to take my rest under a tree. I want to wash in cold water. And I nearly lost this post due to power outage. I wonder what the sergeons are doing?
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
Georgia
Georgia was beautiful. My sister came to rescue me on sunday night. I did not have to spend the night at the airport, as I had planned. It was great spending time with her again and all the ladies at Wilderness Camp where she is head cook. The next day, of course, was spent finagling things at the consulate.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
