Oga, kool tempa now o!

Nigerians are very expressive people. They are very loud, and they don't mind if everyone around them can hear what they are discontent with. There has not been a day without any loud disagreements between our office drivers and the "office boy". Most of the time I have no idea what they are disagreeing about, but it is always loud and I m sure that pretty much everyone in the office witnesses their daily disagreements. If you don't know that arguing and yelling at each other is a normal part of communicating around here you would think there is some serious trouble going on. Usually there isn't. Yelling and loud arguments are very commonplace. If you get angry at something or someone you don't just contain yourself and get over it, no, on the contrary, you make yourself heard. I have witnessed arguments about the most funny things in this country, people get angry about basically everything, they start screaming and yelling, the other person yells back, it goes on for about ten minutes. Usually, no solution is found, and the situation is hardly ever resolved, but after both parties have engaged in some heated argument and vented their anger they usually calm down and things are fine. Ever since I got here I think I witnessed around 50 loud and angry public arguments. Quite a number. I don't think I have seen half as many all through the 22 years I have spend in Germany. It hardly ever happens.

Nigerians are afraid of rain. People don't go out when it's raining. They show up an hour late for work because "it was raining" and they "couldn't go out". Hardly anyone carries an umbrella, even though during the rainy season it rains every day and when it rains it pours. Still, instead of being prepared for that case, people prefer to hide from the rain. It's funny to be outside when the rain starts falling - within 5 minutes you will be the only one still out. People literally run from the rain (and people here don't run very often, trust me). Taxi drivers feel like they can charge you three times as much (two factors coming together here: 1. I dey oyinbo, 2. It's raining, so I must be desperate to take the first taxi that stops). When you happen to be outside while it starts raining people are very sympathetic. Yesterday after I left work and walked to the main junction to get a taxi to get home it started raining heavily. I was standing under a tree, waiting for a taxi to show up, when some security/house boy came out of the gate next to the tree to open it for his oga madame who was driving in with her car. He told me "Sorry o, rain really bad" like three times. I don't really know why rain is considered such a desaster, the only harm it does is that it might get you wet, which in turn should not be considered the end of the world, because as soon as the rain stops and the sun comes out again you will dry off pretty quickly. I understand that it is more of a big deal for the Nigerian women, because of their hair, but still, I think people slightly overreact when it comes to rain.

Ah, Nigerian women and their hair.. Maybe it is like this all over Africa, I wouldn't really know - but to me this still is fascinating. Most women here don't wear their own hair, they have wigs, some sort of braids, etc. They literally get it done every week, and it always looks different. Getting your hair done here is not done within one hour (like mine, when I go to a hairdresser I hardly spend more than 45 minutes) but it takes all day. And it hurts (I don't know this from first hand experience, I have only been told - but from what I heard about the way it's done I believe without a doubt that it hurts). You don't see many women just wearing their own hair in some sort of a haircut, even though the few women you see with their own hair often have really cool and fashionable haircuts.

Today, I decided to name the two lizards that I see pretty much every day. I leave my office door open most of the time, so whenever I get bored I look outside to see what's going on. It's not exactly a thriller, mostly it's either the security guys or the drivers walk by, once in a while some arguments are going on right there (see above) and sometimes I get to watch the rain. My most frequent visitors though are Theodor,  and Peter-Harry (it's a really fat, lame and ugly one, he does remind me of P-H Carstensen), two nosy lizards that hang around my office a lot. They both have pretty distinctive features, so I m pretty sure I recognize them by now. Lizards are probably the most widespread animal around here (after BUGS), you literally find them everywhere. Having them in your house actually isn't such a bad idea, they eat bugs and thus support my endless (and rather futile) fight. I am a little sad that I haven't seen any exotic animals so far (Theodor and P-H don' really count, they are nice but not that exciting). I hope I get to come with my friends, they are planning on going hiking in Jos State, which would be a good opportunity to finally have something close to a Safari experience.

"Hey, I like you. Wanna get married?" "Sorry, I m trying to watch the match. Maybe later."

Yesterday I went to watch the U17 game Germany against Argentina at the National Stadium in Abuja. Too bad we lost, doesn't look good for our team now. We are pretty much out. We still stand a tiny theoretical chance, but let's just be realistic. I think it must have been the weather - at least partially. Coming from the German winter into this climate to play a game at 4pm while it is around 35 degrees makes for a temperature difference of 30 degrees compared to temperatures back home. (Maybe it was also the fact that it was amazingly easy to separate our players from the ball once they got it, the problem of really bad passing and the bad positional play in the defense, but I really want to blame it on the weather).

The game in itself wasn't too spectacular. Being in an basically empty stadium that fits 70.000 people was interesting. Having seats in the "VIP lounge", thus being really close to the field was nice. Being allowed to leave work early to watch a football game was just cool. Compared to my first experience with football in Nigeria (I watched the world cup qualifier Nigeria vs. Tunisia live, it was pretty much the exact opposite of yesterday's relaxed afternoon...) this time things went down much more smoothly. I wonder whether it has anything to do with the fact that my friend from the German Embassy organized the tickets and that we were all dressed in office clothes, coming straight from work, thus looking like a bunch of important white people. It might also have to do with the fact that the stadium was basically empty. Especially during the first half you could pretty much count the people that were there. Following African standards of timing, during the second half (about an hour after the official start of the game) quite a few more people had found their way into the stadium.

Being away from home for a while now, I have to admit that it made me proud to hear the German National Anthem and for the three minutes that it lasted I was a proud little German girl. For me that is a big deal, I usually don't feel very patriotic or have a strong sense of my nationality - I am one of these people that has been successfully indoctrinated that being German is nothing to be proud of, on the contrary: even today being German stands for all the harm and evil that has been done in the name of this our nation. I know that this is not entirely true, but unconsciously I do feel guilty being German. Enough on the lack of German national pride, back to the important things in life: football.

The support bases for both teams were rather limited. In the VIP lounge there were some German fans, I think mainly children of the German employees of Julius Berger or diplomats. Then it was a bunch of other expats (like me and my friends) and a group of Argentina supporters (I guess they were also employees of the Argentinean embassy). Our team had some Nigerian supporters though, a small group of Nigerians had brought their own (kind of huge) German flag, and were cheering for our team. To reciprocate I bought a Nigerian flag to demonstrate my sympathy (but let's be honest, I was actually kind of hoping Nigeria would lose their game against Honduras, so we could still make it into the next round...)

During half time we went inside the VIP lounge were we managed to grab a drink (there was supposed to be food, but even though there basically weren't any people there wasn't enough). Some guy in a wheelchair who had been staring at me ever since we tried to enter the stadium in the most disrespectful manner comes up to "talk" to me. It's funny, when guys come to "talk" to you they don't even give a damn about what you might say. They want to be "your very good friend", and they want to get your number. They don't really care how you are doing or what you are doing in Nigeria, the only information they are interested in is your name (if you are lucky) and your phone number. So that old and very ugly guy (I am sorry, but he really wasn't pretty) was totally ignoring what I was saying, he only started listening when I lied to him that I didn't have a phone (which in Nigeria is like "wow, you don't have a PHONE??" - here everyone has at least two different ones, that are answered no matter what. In the cinema, at work (during meetings), while you are talking to people, ... No matter what, you answer your phone.) I was lucky that some girls came up to talk to me, they are interns for an NGO as well, so I could turn around and engage very actively in another conversation. I thought I had successfully made clear that I really wasn't interested to the guy, I thought turning around and ignoring him henceforth would be enough, but apparently that was not as much of a clear sign of rejection as I would have thought. While I was talking to the other girls he engages one of my (male) friends in a conversation, letting him know that he would really like to marry me. After we had talked for about 30 seconds, in which he hadn't even listened to me at all.

It happens to me that guys "want to be my very good friends" when they see me on the street. Whenever I wait for a taxi somewhere I can be sure that some guy comes up to talk to me. When I walk somewhere (something that is seen as very weird in Nigeria, if you are going somewhere, you drive or at least take a taxi) some car will stop next to me to offer me a ride. Several others will just shout "hey baby", "hi sexy", etc. I am Oyinbo after all, that pretty much makes you a hot commodity around here. But the wheelchair guy was just extreme. I had to let him know that I was not exactly interested, using my friend as a courier again. One would think that this sort of rejection would have its effect. Unfortunately I did not. When the game was over and we were waiting outside for everyone to assemble to go back to Maitama, he comes up to me again. "My friend, I hope you enjoyed the game" (Not even waiting for a reply) "I really like you, do you need a ride?". I really try to avoid being impolite, but that was just too much. I decided to be a stuck up Oyinbo, saying "No", turned around, and ignored his presence until we all left.

The game was fun after all, the marriage thing by now is part of my everyday life, and I met really cool people yesterday. I even saw the Nigerian national U17 team walk by. Not too bad for an average Tuesday.

So far this my blog has missed out on a very crucial aspect of Nigerian pride and culture: the food. Whenever I meet new people they usually ask me the following three questions: “So what are you doing in Nigeria?” “How are you enjoying your time here?” and, most importantly (!) “How do you like the food?” I like the food. Most of it at least. And people are generally very content to hear that. It is a big deal if you as Oyinbo like the traditional Nigerian food. I don’t quite know why, but it is.

Nigerian food is interesting. It mainly consists of onions and peppers. I don’t think I have had any food here that did not contain onions and peppers as its basis. Interestingly enough, often the food doesn’t even taste like much, but it’s very hot. As long as it contains loads of pepper it is considered a good dish. Well, I might be oversimplifying here, but in a way it is true.

Nigerian food is dangerous. Whoever has had their hands (or even worse: eyes) burning after cutting mean little peppers or their skin itch after skinning yams knows what I am talking about. It’s not fun. You have to learn all the little but pivotal rules of what to cut how and what to avoid (and sometimes you learn the hard way...).

Nigerian food does not exactly look nice. Let’s be honest, most of it really does not. It might taste great, but when it comes to the look of it you wouldn’t necessarily call it “pretty”. Some soups or stews look rather slimy and sticky, some look like liquid mud with leaves in it, some just have indistinguishable components that are impossible to disentangle by looking at it. Most of the rather unappealing looking things really do taste nice, but food here is definitely not made with the aim of looking good. Maybe this focus on food aesthetics is a very European thing; I have gotten used to not judging a dish by its appearance anymore.

I have had interesting food experiences. From finding the head and tail of the fish in the fish stew over learning how to eat chicken the African way to discovering the beauty of (pretty tasteless) pounded yam and its function as a sponge for the soup served with it. (For all Non-Africans reading this: “soup” is not necessarily what you would imagine, it is often rather solid and eaten not with a spoon but with some sort of mashed potato side dish that you use as a cutlery replacement).

Eating with my hands has become normal by now; but my first Suya experience remains unforgotten: I was served really nice Chicken Suya (if you ever end up being in Abuja, try out Yahuza VIP Suya Spot, really good stuff), and while I unfold the aluminium foil in which my food is wrapped I ask my roommates: “So where’s the fork?” Not knowing that you eat your Suya (like many other dishes) with your hands (well, technically with one hand, so you still have one ‘clean’ hand). It earned me a round of laughter.

I know that certain things I will definitely miss once I go back to Germany, I love plantain, I like the fish here very much, I like the Suya, Moi-Moi, Egusi soup ... One thing I won’t really miss is the meat. Generally I don’t like meat anyways, but I try it. Here, it has never really been a good experience (maybe also because I have seen them slaughter the goats at the market). There are a few things I miss that are either really hard to get or just ridiculously expensive, e.g. dairy products, even though I sometimes have the rather strange (but okay) yoghurt (see also: for fun, for health, for long life). Milk is generally most readily available as milk powder, which I have come to detest by now, and coffee is generally only very bad instant Nescafe instant coffee; even if you order coffee in a cafe (which are really very rare here), the coffee is bad. I m having a hard time not being able to indulge in my little coffee addiction. My mum already announced that she will make very traditional German food once I come back. All I want is good coffee and wholemeal bread.

Recklessness revisited.

I have been in Nigeria for almost eight weeks now, and in the first seven weeks nothing severe has happened to me. No traffic accidents, no assault or mugging, no kidnapping, no being in mortal danger. There were situations in which I haven't felt too safe, true (just remembering the bus trip from Abuja to Lagos and back, the dead people on the expressway, taking public transport back from work, crossing the highway outside Gwarinpa, being followed by a group of guys by car, ...) But nothing has happened to me. Seven weeks. And then the last three days happened. I am wondering whether its due to my own recklessness (maybe I have been less careful because I feel safe most of the time) or whether its Naija, finally living up to what people tell you about it. Before I went to Nigeria, I have heard all the scary stories. People getting shot in the streets. People getting mugged, kidnapped, raped. I have heard it all. My experiences here so far have been rather different. I am not trying to downplay the dangerous bits, they definitely exist, and I have been careful. But the picture that is painted outside Nigeria is overdramatic. The panic that is created is unneccessary. Speaking for Abuja at least (and judging from my little trip to Lagos) it is not all that unsafe. So I thought. For seven weeks.

The past three days have been crazy. Within only 56 hours I have been involved in a traffic accident, I was very close to being kidnapped (or at least mugged), and I got hit by a freaking keke napep. The accident happened on Monday, while I was coming back from work. I was in a taxi and we were pretty close to my house when we got stuck in the usual bit of Gwarinpa 6 o'clock holdup. My driver was doing what people do here when there is holdup, they just try to overtake from any "lane" (basically, they just try to use any available piece of path to get around the holdup), so we were stuck in the roadside ditch (because his idea of trying to overtake from there proved to be not so innovative, several other cars had done the exact same thing). So while we were waiting, some Jeep decides to turn into the street right before us. My driver can't really move, as there are several cars in front, behind, and besides us. The Jeep driver is starting to become impatient, is giving us light signals and a fair amount of honking, while my driver is trying to somehow get the fact across that we couldn't move. The Jeep driver decides not to consider that little detail and just turns into the street, which is blocked by my taxi. My driver tries to move out of the way, can't find a spot, and thus gets hit laterally. Poor guy, his car didn't exactly look good before the accident, it looks worse now. Luckily, it was only a car body damage and nothing happened to anyone, but I was still under shock for a little while. I decided to walk back to my house (which in the end might have also been faster than being stuck in the holdup).

On Tuesday, I took another taxi back from work. Some rather sinister guy with a very weird voice decides to take a "shortcut" through a pretty run-down area close to Gwarinpa. He leaves the expressway to drive through the bushland and some small ghetto that doesn't have paved roads. It was a strange feeling to begin with, but I only got scared when a bunch of area boys showed up out of nowhere, trying to block the path by just throwing themselves in front of the car. My driver locks all doors and tries to wind up the windows, but taxis are not exactly in a very great shape here, so winding up is a privilege that this specific taxi didn't have. While we were trying to pass, the boys were hitting the car with wooden items, sticking their hands through the half-way wound up windows, trying to open the doors, while yelling at me and the driver. It was scary. At a point my driver just speeded up the car, I think he was freaking out too. The car hit several of the guys, but we got out without the car being totally bashed. When we got close to my place, the stupid driver has the nerve to ask me to pay more than we agreed on, because he avoided holdup and got me out of that situation (the situation he brought me in!). You can imagine my response.

Yesterday I was walking around Gwarinpa at about 7pm. The "pedestrian path" was clogged up by cars parking there, so I had to use the road to walk on. While I am trying to squeeze myself onto the outer corner of the road (recent experiences with traffic around that area left their marks), some keke right next to me engages in a jink, and fully hits me. Instead of at least getting out to check whether I was okay (I was very okay, nothing really happened as he was going rather slow), he stares at me for 30 seconds and then just flies. I got a lot of sympathy avowals by bystanders, and people cursed the keke driver on my behalf, so I guess it was alright.

Let's see what happens after work today.. I am getting used to the idea of somehow being in danger while I go home. I still wonder whether I am the one being reckless or whether it's Naija trying to live up to expectations. I hope I will make it through in one piece ;)

It's the tribe, stupid.

Ethnicity matters quite a bit in Nigeria. Yes, I know about the history of Nigeria, I know about the artificial boundaries that were set around a landmass that was incredibly diverse in terms of ethnicities, cultures, languages, etc. I have heard of the lack of a strong Nigerian nation (there is a difference between state-building and nation-building; but without going into too much detail, let's just say that both did not take place very successfully in Nigeria), I have read about the cleavages, I have heard about the lack of a strong civil society - but I never imagined it to be so stark. People are mostly first of all members of their tribe before they are Nigerian, which is understandable, because the term "Nigeria" is in itself rather meaningless. It is just a name, given to a former British colony, which encompasses different people, different cultures, different ways of living. Paradoxically enough, Nigerians are very proud of their country, even though they do not seem to primarily identify themselves as Nigerians. Most conversations bring up the issue of ethnicity sooner or later. Pretty much everyone I have met here has in one way or the other told me which tribe they belong to. My friends that I stayed with the first few weeks are Ibo, the lady that I stay with now is Yoruba, so is one of my colleagues, the family friend that comes around once in a while is Fulani, most sellers on the local market in my area are Haussa (Abuja is considered to be in the "North" rather than in the South, even though it actually is in the middle of the country).

Each tribe is more or less secluded, through its own language, customs, and specific culture. And there are different rules of social conduct for different tribes. It will be easier for you to get along with people of the same tribe, not only because you share the language, but also because you know the tacit rules. It is obvious that personal relationships are often more close and sincere between two people from the same tribe, whereas inter-tribe relationships seem to be more complicated to maintain. There are certain characteristics (physical features and character attributes) that distinguish the main tribes from one another. I do not want to sound judgmental, but I have to admit that I have observed certain differences between tribes, at least in the people I have met. Yoruba (Southwest of Nigeria) are certainly the most aggressive and loudest. They are stubborn and certainly have an attitude, but they are also very welcoming and warm-hearted and fiercely Christian (bele for hurting anyone's feelings :)). I have the impression that Ibo people (Southeast of Nigeria) are the most open-minded. In comparison to the other tribes, they mix with members from other tribes quite frequently and are on average less conservative (when compared to European standards they are still extremely conservative though..). There tribal bonds might not be as strong, as they were historically fragmented and consolidated only rather recently. The Hausa are mainly concentrated in the North, they have certain bonds with the Arabs and most are either Muslim or follow traditional indigenous beliefs. They are very religious and strict (so no holding hands in Abuja), but their religion also dictates honesty and modesty, so buying from Hausa traders usually leaves you less ripped off than buying from someone from another tribe.

It is fascinating to see how these very different people with their very different cultures, ideas, religions, and ways of living are merged into one nation and manage to live together (mostly) peacefully. There are ethnic/religious conflicts, those mostly emerge in the Northern states, but considering the variety of people these conflicts are rather rare. By now I am actually quite succesful at my own little guessing game: I try to guess which tribe someone belongs to when I meet them, and I can be sure that it comes up somehow, sooner or later, so I can test my prediction. Surprisingly enough, I mostly am right. I think there definitely must be something to ethnic differences in Nigeria.

Maga don pay...

I was told my last post had too much content but no narrative, quantity instead of quality, thus I decided to ponder on only one specific topic today.

Yes, I am white. Yes, I am from the West. No, I don't have money. I am tired of people trying to rip me off wherever I go. It's the taxi drivers (I know by now that it's 400 Naira to get from my workplace in Wuse 2 to my place in Gwarinpa) that tell me prices between 800 and 2.000 Naira, it's the sellers on the markets that want to sell me a basket of tomatoes for 500 (when it's 200), it's the credit guys that "don't have change" and expect you not to insist.

I understand that the common perception of white people is that they are equivalent to money. Sadly enough, some of us aren't. I am doing an unpaid internship with an organization aiming at deepening social democracy in Nigeria. I don't get paid anything whatsoever and I had to make my own arrangements to come to this country and be able to afford working here. What sounds like a paradox and a contradiction in itself in the first place is amplified by the constant attempt by Nigerians to rip me off. I am here to help, I am here to contribute so things might eventually change for the better. I am not crazy, I know that me being here will not change the country dramatically, but I do believe that the work my organization does has an impact and I am part of this organization, actively trying to help. Trying to rip me off wherever I am, no matter what I do is not exactly the kind of gratitude I deserve. God knows I am not one of these rich expats, that stay at Hilton, Sheraton or Nicon Luxury, only sourrunded by other oyinbos and maybe some security personnel. I stay in Gwarinpa with no running water and no electricity most of the time, I buy my food at the market and cook for myself, I even take the bus back from work to save some money. I really do not live a very luxurious life around here, but that still doesn't stop anyone from trying to squeeze money out of me.

It's either money or sex that people see in me. I m not a maga, and I m not here to be someone's mistress. I should really start wearing a sign stating the following: "No, I don't have money - and no, I don't want to sleep with you even if you do."

No be small ting o.. at all.

Back from the crazy place called Lagos. It was an adventure, quite an intense experience. It started off with my fist trip in a keke, followed by crossing the express way to take a bus to the motorpark in kubwa. People were quite shocked to see an Oyinbo in a public bus, apparently I am supposed to take a limousine to wherever I go.

The trip to Lagos was crazy. 12 hours on a fair-plus minibus, squeezed in with 15 other people. Crazy overtaking adventures, huge potholes, endless go-slows, 450 roadblocks and police stops (and my bus had in oyinbo in there, so you can imagine how many times we were stopped). Our driver took us through the most remote villages where the roads are so bad that you cannot even stay on the road itself, but have to use the roadside ditch to not get stuck. It's a continuous change between 3 miles per hour trying to get through the potholes and 140 miles per hour, as soon as the road gets just a little better for a few (kilo-)meters, honking at whatever there is on the road, using any lane, overtaking any sort of vehicle in crazy and seriously dangerous maneuvers. In Nigeria, if you want to overtake, you just overtake. You don't go through all the hassle of checking whether there is enough space or any opposing traffic, you just overtake. Any vehicles coming from the other direction have to move out of your way. Period.

Lagos itself is crazy. It's loud and crowded and smelly. It's fascinating. Anything you need you can buy on the street. Basically everyone is trying to sell something. It looks like only 10 per cent of the people living in Lagos have a regular job that they have to attend. The remaining 90 per cent are either trying to sell you all sorts of stuff or engage in semi-legal to very illegal activities that keep them busy and provide at least some money once in a while. You find area boys, okada drivers, lawyers and bank staff, little kids with plastic bowls on their heads, credit sellers, beggers, security guards at every building. It is a very absorbing place.

I survived my final culture shock. Being introduced to someone's family here is not a simple and easy thing, it is a huge deal. It basically means that you have to meet everyone that is somehow connected to that family: friends, neighbours, your friend's daughter's grandchildren, etc. Also, do not ever object to anything that is said by someone who is older than you. You are not only being disrespectful and rude, you need to keep in mind that you don't know ANYTHING, so you better listen and obey. Life experience apparently teaches you everything you need to know, don't even try to reason scientifically.

Lagos is a dangerous place. Parts of town are locked up between 12 and 6 with several "gates", so no one can enter or leave, if it is not an emergency. Guards patrol the area during these times and you really do not want to be seen on the street, if you value your life as you might just get shot for "security reasons". On Sunday night we drove from Gbagada to Yaba, over the bridge connection the rest of Lagos to Victoria Island and we had to witness a really bad accident. Actually, we didn't witness the accident itself, but we had to drive around the human remains in the middle of the street. It is a dangerous place, in many ways.

On my way back (another endless tour with a minibus) I once again discovered one of the beauties of this country. Not only the beautiful landscape, red ground and endless areas of green, but the beautiful people. We stopped at a gas station and I was trying to follow a group of ladies to the bathroom. I jumped over a little wall to keep up with them, not considering that the ground on the other side was pure mud. I managed to slip and fall into the mud, being covered in it, facing another 7 hours on the bus. The second I fell everyone was being so understanding, caring, and sympathetic, it was touching. I think I got at least 4.000 "bele" and "sorry o"s from everyone. Someone showed me where to wash off the mud, and I was shown a room to change my clothes. I actually delayed the whole bus, something that under any other circumstance always gets people really angry, but after my mud episode everyone was being really sweet. I didn't even hurt myself, but I embarassed myself to death. Thank god I won't have to see anyone who witnessed my accident ever again.

A Roland for an Oliver ... not!

Double standards are a core element of life here. Someone is a Christian, goes to Church regularly for service and bible studies, to worship and honour God. Fine. You see that exact same person Saturday night around 11pm in a club, basically naked, grinding some random dude. Someone is married for 3 years, has a baby girl of 18 months and has been cheating on his wife for the past two years: commonly accepted. A married woman at a bar, even behaving modestly, no guy in sight: big deal. As a woman there are many things you cannot do. Well, let's say you could do them, but you will have to accept that everyone will run their mouth about you. And gossiping is one of the most favourite leisure activities around here ("Oh my god! Did you hear what this person did?").

Men do not really respect women in this country. They are an acquisition, and as soon as you are married, the woman is all yours. As a guy you can now go have your affairs, because that is the common thing to do, while you once in a while knock up your wife. Sunday in Church you show up with your "perfect little family", while everyone knows that you have done half of the choir chicks, while already married. As a woman you don't get much of a choice. Yes, you can get a divorce, but it's difficult and makes you look loose and inconsistent in the eyes of society. You could secretly decide to cheat on your husband as well, to pay him back (or get what he is not giving to you, attention, care, love), but it will be basically impossible, as your husband has a "right" to know where you are and what you are doing at all times. He might even send his friends and/or family over to check on you while he is at work (or at a hotel room spending the evening with someone else). Also, mostly you are dependent on the grace of your husband. He might just not allow you to get a job, so he can control you even more.

My auntie (she is actually just the person I stay with and she is about the same age as my mother, which automatically makes her my auntie) recently told me that she hopes that I will get married to a Nigerian and stay in the country. Whereas I might think about the latter, the former is not exactly in my plans, considering what I have observed so far.

The art of being patient, persistent, and pain-resistent.

Everything you do here takes long. Long as in longer than expected; longer than back home. Even if its only the simple act of doing the dishes, it involves going out to fetch some water, warming it up, cleaning every singly item, rinsing it, putting it back. Doing laundry takes half a day, if you do it properly, and that doesnt guarantee that your clothes are really clean (well, that also depends on your skill and patience), you need to fetch water, heat it up, soak your clothes, wash them, rinse them, and put them up to dry. If someone asks how I spend my weekends I have to admit that this is pretty much all I do: I clean, I do laundry, I go buy groceries, and before you know the weekend is over. I sometimes contemplate to give up the fight against bacteria, bugs, dust, and dirt. They seem to be omnipotent and my time-consuming efforts to fight them seem rather futile.

I have learned to be more patient, to accept that things take time. People here have known all along. Maybe thats why they are never in a hurry (except for the case of go slow, where everyone all of a sudden gets extremely impatient to get to their destination). In general though, people don't seem to see the point of hurrying up, no matter what they are doing. In a way, it is a very beautiful way of living, taking time for things.

I sometimes tend to fall back into my German Oyinbo behaviour - I walk fast, I expect things to happen fast, I expect to be served fast, I get my stuff at work done three days before the deadline. I need to remember that efficiency is a particularly German invention, which is not really a part of everyday life in Nigeria. You take your sweet time for doing stuff, and no one (apart from strange Oyinbo people) minds.

Nigeria doesn't cease to amaze me. I go to work using the same route every day and still just looking out the window makes me smile. Monday mornings start off well when I can watch everyday things happening around Abuja. People, markets, chicken and goats everywhere, crazy driving adventures, plastic toys being sold on the street, people walking by the side of the highway. It is beautiful to watch how people cope with the challenges of no water and NEPA power failures.

By now, I should have probably gotten used to the way people stare at me, most of the time I don't even notice it anymore. I have to be made aware, if its not in a pretty drastic way (cars slowing down next to me while I walk, a whole truck of guys following my taxi for ten minutes, etc.). It's become part of the experience. I wonder whether black people feel the same way when they enter a predominantly white country. Do they get stared at the same way? I wonder..