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..