Scarred for Life

  We all have them, either stretch marks from pregnancy, or surgical incisions, or just careless mistakes. I know each scar tells a story,  and since living in Nigeria I have been obsessed with finding out more about these stories.....


The Driver that picked us up from the airport was named Mohammad, and he three severe scars on across his cheek.  It looked like he had been scratched by an angry tiger.....except the pattern was perfectly identical on the other side of his face.  Suddenly my mind was filled with questions?  Where did he get these scars?  Were they punishment for some horrific crime?  Prison markings maybe, or was he face destroyed to make a public example of him for doing something unforgivable?!  Before I could pull my husband aside to have my questions quietly answered, a saw a women with similar scars!  The scars were all over her face, but slightly different than the man's.  Before we'd even left the airport I had a few more scar sightings.......and thousands since. 

Getting to the bottom of the facial scarring was a little more difficult than I expected.  It's kind of hard to walk up to someone on the street and say, "hey, what do those hideous marks on your face mean?" or better yet, " Did that hurt?" But I've been intrigued by the  different patterns  I've seen as well as people from all walks of life with the markings.  "Facial Scarification", as it is known, is not isolated to people in poverty living villages (although it is more common in rural areas).  Bankers, doctors, teachers, store clerks, our house keeper and even influential Ogas (the Nigerian word for powerful boss-man), can be seen with the markings given them by their tribe in infancy.  

 

These markings identify this woman as belonging to a certain tribe.  The scars are seen as attractive beauty marks to some.  Beauty is in the eye of the beholder I guess!
 

 

 

Nigeria is made up of 371 tribes with unique cultural identities. Of these tribes, there are three main groups, the IGBO, HAUSA, and YORUBA.  Although not as common as it was in the past, the scarification is done at a young age to identify the children as belonging to the individual tribes.  In one article I read, it said this began with the slave trade, when children would be abducted and sold.  Clear facial markings made tribal members easy to identify in order to keep families intact.  Knowing that the different markings represent unique groups, I have spent a bit of energy trying to discern who is related to whom.   I've noticed that one of our security guards has the same horizontal lines as my friend's nanny, and our gardener shares the marking of a man I know at the embassy.  It is interesting to have a bit of one's genealogy so visible.

 Here is a link to a great article written by a man who lived with a tribe to learn more about their tradition of scarification.  Lars Krutak's article on Scarification

At a few months old, this baby is being initiated into the tribe by the local Medicine woman using  a traditional technique to give her markings that will stay with her through out her life.
 

The teardrop scars on Baby Enitan are being rubbed with charcoal dust and snail secretions to help control bleeding and to insure proper scarification.  A chicken will be waved over her at the end of the ceremony to chase evil away. 

This interesting article from CNN gives more interesting insight into the tradition of purposeful scarring. CNN Story of Nigerian Facial Scarification

“It’s a shallow life that doesn’t give a person a few scars.”
– Garrison Keillor
 

This little girl is about Alexis' age....The spiritual and traditional conviction must be overwhelming because I can't stomach the thought of allowing this to  happen to my little princess. 

Some of the common tribal marking in this area.



While on the subject of facial markings, I couldn't help but add a picture of Vladimir Franz! In case you haven't been watching BBC (it's one of the few channel at the gym), he is one of the current presidential candidates in the Czech republic. Vladimir is a composer, professor, presidential hopeful, and a body-art enthusiast! His entire body is covered with tattoos..... and has been nicknamed the Avatar because of the blue tone of his face........

Vladimir has permanent facial markings that differentiate him from the rest of the population... the difference here, is he has chosen to look this way!

 

Dirtly little scandal

This morning I committed a horrific social blunder here in Nigeria although I am somewhat used to shocking those around me. Being one of a handful of white people in the entire country, I expect a fair amount of staring, and pointing. But my skin color (or extreme lack there of) is only one reason I stand out.  Culturally, I do things differently.... I do things the American way which doesn't always mesh with how things are done here. 
What I did this morning created a huge stir in our compound.  My housekeeper begged me not to do it, saying I would embarrass my family.  I laughed and headed outside anyway.  I knew it would be and uncommon sight, but I didn't expect the gardeners to stop trimming shrubs, and the construction workers on the nearby roof to stop hammering, and the guards to stop walking the property all to watch the crazy American woman.  Pretending not to notice the commotion, I continued my task at hand with our maid staring in horror from the front window.  Finally I stopped when the pool boy and the gardener approached me together begging me to stop saying "Madame, please!  We would not allow our mother or sister to do this, it is shameful!  Please Madame, Please!!"
Clearly I had crossed a social boundary and was causing everyone around me serious distress.  So, I relented in order to save others from the discomfort they were feeling.  From the uproar around me, you must think I was mowing the lawn naked, or drowning defenseless animals in the pool, or possibly selling narcotics to kids from the porch.  No, I was doing none of this things.  My huge offense was doing a "man's job".  I had a rag and a bucket and was washing my car!!
Can you imagine?!  Well, now I have the Gardener scheduled to wash my car every Monday morning for 1000 Naira....to keep my car clean without shaming my family!  While Fazouk busied himself soaping up my vehicle I ran inside and grabbed my laptop and brought it outside.  I did a quick youtube search and found a video of a car going through an automatic carwash to show him how I washed my car at home.  He nearly fell over with disbelief that a car could drive into a raining room with spinning brushes and come out clean!   He wouldn't have been more surprised if I had told him that everyone in America has Robotic- Maids from 'outer-space'!!

If traffic is bad enough, you can hop out of you car and give it a brisk wash while you wait!...as long as you are not female

My blunder this morning reminded me of a few other 'social faux-pas' I have committed since being here....
Well, on my first day here, I went running with a British group and got terribly lost...Looking back on that event I realize that being lost in a foreign land wasn't my only problem.....My other  major problem, my tank top and shorty-shorts were lacking 2-3 yards of fabric to be considered decent in a predominately Muslim community!   Ooops, I was probably seen as a lost, crazy, white, naked running harlot!!! I guess there are worse things to be known as!:)



My next 'Faux Pas' was while shopping I sincerely complemented a Nigerian friend on her lean physique,  the type of athletic figure I am constantly striving for.  Ooops again!  How was I supposed to know I was insulting her!  Since she was a friend, she explained to me that having a fuller figure is desirable for her.  She said, "I would never want to be mistaken for the 'house-help'"!  She said she was currently trying to "increase" (their term for gaining weight). In fact, Nigeria still has Fattening Rooms for women to gain weight prior to their weddings to be more desirable to their husbands.  It's like the opposite of a Fat-Camp.  You spend up to six months doing little more than eating, sleeping and bathing.  These fattening rooms are used mainly by the wealthy of certain tribes to get their women up to par.  You can read a BBC article on this topic by clicking this link.. Fattening rooms in Calabar Nigeria.  Some woman have been able to double their weight in 6 months by strict adherance to the prescribed program.  It's these attitudes that make exercising seem unnecessary and even counter productive to some.  My housekeeper thinks I have a few screws loose each time I hop on the treadmill or head out for a jog! 
The body image here is a bit refreshing though, as most body types are appreciated and there doesn't seem to be an agreed upon 'ideal body image'. When I asked a Nigerian woman about the "ideal" body type in her country, she answered by saying, "Only you Americans and Europeans worry about your weight.  What a luxury to have nothing else to be concerned with except how much you weigh.  You have no problems so you have to create things to be unhappy about!" 
That sure made me think!

A betrothed bride gorging herself for beauty!  I remember trying to lose a lb or two before my big day to be sure my dress fit right! 

Fashion magazines reflect this attitudes as well.  You don't have to live on nothing but celery and rice-cakes to grace the cover of a Nigerian fashion magazine.  All beautiful women are welcome!

Here is another taboo that I learned (the hard way of course).  Don't use your left hand at all.  The left hand is considered unclean and shouldn't be used to eat, or to give or receive anything. You shouldn't give or receive anything with your left hand, unless you must use both hands to hold it.  No amount of soap or hand sanitizer can convince the population here that both hands can be germ-free!  I guess 'South-Paws'  are not highly regarded here, possibly one more reason my parents (both lefties) will never come visit us. This left hand rule is quite frustrating when I'm shopping, holding bags and have Sawyer on my hip with only my left hand free for the transaction.  The Naira I'm paying with is a filthy as a sewer anyway, so it frustrates me to have to set down everything I am holding in order to avoid paying with a hand that is perceived as dirty.

Remember to only use this 'clean' right hand for eating!!

Also when greeting someone, I should not be offended if a man shakes the hands of all the men around me but doesn't shake mine.  Some muslim men don't touch females.  (I'm not sure if this is out of respect or if  more than just my left hand is seen as filthy in this case).  Either way, im fine keeping my hands to myself!  Some people wont make eye contact as it is seen as intrusive.  Instead they lower their eyes and bow their head. (The cleaning staff and gardeners always do this to show of respect, which honestly makes me feel a bit uncomfortable.) 
It's my style to wave and loudly exclaim good morning friend as I walk by, but greetings are taken very seriously here and are not to be rushed.  I also like to get right down to business when I see someone, but it is considered very rude not to ask about their health and the health of each member of their family before taking the conversation any further.  A quick wave or 'hello' doesn't cut it here, and a proper greeting is expected by each person you run into.  I've learned the names of the children of the woman I buy bread and peanuts from so I can inquire after each of them every time I see her.

Another stark difference is brought to my attention every time I'm in public.  People swarm around Sawyer talking to him and touching him, but inevitably, ask the following question..."Is your boy ill?  Why is he not in school?"  The first few hundred times people asked this question, I just assumed they thought my hefty Super-Chunk was much older than his 2 years.  The common response to me explaining that he was a baby of 2 years, was "well he should be in school or he will never learn!"  Apparently it is common place to put children as young as 6-9 months in 'primary schools' here.  They are sent off to get started in their education at a very young age.  I have been berated regularly by well-intentioned Nigerian mothers that I am too soft and selfish keeping my child at home and will cause him to be disadvantaged in the future.  The women here don't beat around the bush either when they want to tell you how to do something....I've had people be pretty much in my face giving me "wonderful" parenting advice about how the 'American Way' is too soft.  It has taken serious restraint at times to keep from barking back rude politically charged comments, or just punching someone (what would be the point?)!  Instead, I smile and squeeze my chubby guy and say I can't dare part with him for another couple of years.  In the mean time I just make it a game to see how many people accost me daily to chastise me on my ignorant parenting.

I'm not ready for school!  I just wanna hang out with my mom and play Angry Birds!

 

Well, It's clear that Im constantly doing things that seem a strange to those around me.   Some of them are cultural, and I'm sure some are just me being me! Either way, we are all welcome to our own views....as silly as they seem to others.


 

Gymnastics in the Dark

Alexis and Tony working on handstands

I've been wanting to write about our kids' gymnastics club and their teacher, Tony.  First, I'll tell you a little about Tony and his background in gymnastics.  Tony is in his early 30's, from Cross River State (southern Nigeria), and is build like the stereotypical gymnast - about 5'4" and thick as an ox.  Tony started training in gymnastics in Lagos, Nigeria when he was 7 years old.  Like most gymnasts throughout the world, Tony began training on mounds of grass and sawdust in a yard where furniture was built, or in the back of his school during recess and breaks on whatever sand was there.  Fortunately, Tony did not break his neck, back, or any other bone severely enough to hinder his further training and in 1996, Tony was discovered by a national gymnast who took Tony to the Lagos State Sports Council to train.  That same year, after only several months of training, Tony was selected to put on an exhibition for the Governor of Lagos.  A short time after the exhibition, Tony's coach passed away.  Later that same year Tony represented Lagos at the National Sports Festival and won his first gold medal - doing so for his late coach. 



Logan and Tony working on handstands at the National Stadium 

Even though Tony kept training on his own, in 2003 he also began to teach gymnastics at a couple schools in Lagos.  He also began working with the Lagos State Gymnastics Association to organize interschool gymnastics competitions in order to expose his students to an actual competition and help build up their self-confidence.



Alexis and her litte British and Australian friends - no electricity doesn't stop them!

Tony represented Nigeria in 2007 at the prime international gymnastics competition in Singapore.  Tony and the Nigerian team won six bronze medals and a trophy, taking 3rd among 17 clubs and countries.  Tony stayed in Singapore through 2008 and 2009 at the Prime International Gymnastics Competition, getting elite-level training for the first time in his life.  While training in Singapore, Tony was asked to represent Nigeria at the Olympic Games.  Tony declined the offer - he told me he recognized the fact that, while he may have been one of the best in Nigeria, he was not at the level of other international competitors.  He told me that it would have been an honor to represent Nigeria, but he decided to turn his focus and aspirations to his students, making the goal to win an Olympic medal as a coach.



Alexis practicing landings and form

Tony's only job now is teaching gymnastics.  He loves teaching the skills and character lessons he learned from gymnastics.  He started teaching at Alexis' and Logan's school a couple of years ago.  While teaching the children there, one of the parents of one of the students asked Tony to start teaching her children private lessons in her home.  Tony decided to stop teaching at the school and now teaches about 100 kids from Nigeria and all over the world.   This includes the children from one of the local orphanages he teaches on the weekends.  He teaches them local Nigerian dances and basic tumbling.  He feels it's his duty to give back. 

His goal is to build up the program to the point where he will have his own facility and all the equipment necessary to be a feeder program for the Nigerian Olympic team. Currently, the club has a couple older mats that were donated from previous ex-pat residents and a couple mats he made himself.  And he's doing an amazing job with what little he has.  That being said, he is saving up to purchase uneven bars, a spring board, a vault, a running trampoline, regulation padded mats (ones he has not made himself!), and a balance beam. He would also like to begin training some of the girls in rythmic gymnastics.  Yesterday he hosted a competition for the kids - complete with official judges, team leotards, and medals. It was to serve as a fundraiser to purchase some of this equipment and to ship it here to Nigeria (can't find this kind of equipment here.).   We're trying to raise enough money in order to purchase the equipment so we can ship it over on our last household goods shipment (has to be done in the next two months.)  


Logan and Tony working on handstands and proper form

Unfortunately, as I stated, there are not many options for athletics here in Abuja.  Nor is there much support of any kind from the government.  It was reported in one of the local papers that parents of the children in this club (the only one of its kind in Abuja) approached the Gymnastic Federation of Nigeria (GFN) and the National Sports Commission (NSC) to request assistance of any kind.  For example, these parents have requested the support of GFN in the form of making the “Gymnastic Hall at the Package B” of the National Stadium, Abuja, available to this club as the premier gymnastic destination with regular classes and events. The parents are willing to pay for the coaching and administrative operational support of the club, if the government would be responsible for the infrastructure and the working order of facilities (lighting, air-conditioning, bathrooms, safety of facilities etc).  We are still waiting on the verdict from the Gymnastic Federation.  One of these parents did receive a call from the president of the GFN Nigeria who was most positive about the proposal. He said that they would meet with the parents at the National Championships however and unfortunately, they were not present at the times that the parents were there on three consecutive days.  One parent put a call to one of the board members and, per the article, has yet to hear back.  And the facility and the equipment sit, still unused.  And the club continues to use an aerobics room at the Hilton hotel and an empty room in a back building at the National Stadium, and mats Tony made himself. 



  

It's not about the Lizards... adjustments part 2

This little guy is amazing...His Gecko-Glue
 Defies Gravity!

One of the first things we noticed as we arrived in Africa, was the huge number of lizards.  They are everywhere!  In our compound, we generally see two different types scurrying around.  There is a blue and yellow lizard known as an Agama Lizard or Yellow headed Dragon.  The are huge and really creep me out.  I know that they eat bugs and mosquitoes etc, so I should be thankful for them, but I'm not.  In general, I leave them alone, and they stay far away from me as well.  The other little guy, with the insanely sticky feet, is a Wall Gecko.  I am amazed at their ability to effortlessly run up and down walls and even upside down on ceilings.  I'm not alone in my wonder as Aristotle wrote about them over 2000 years ago.   In Historia Animalium, written in 350 B.C., Aristotle mentioned these curious creatures at least five times. At one point, he described another creature by saying, “It can run up and down a tree in any way, even with the head downwards, like the gecko-lizard” (Aristotle, n.d.).  
They truly are fascinating and wondrous......until the second they enter my house, then they are disgusting little freaks!!!!!  Out in nature, I can appreciate their abilities and wonder about the Gecko Glue that adheres them to the walls, but in my house they are not welcome!!  Unfortunately, they have difficulty  differentiating between an outdoor wall and an indoor wall.  The ceiling of my bathroom is probably no different to them than the underside of a rock.  Well I don't like it, and I do my best to keep them outdoors, constantly reminding the kids to slip out of the front door quickly and close it immediately behind them.  In reality, the kids leave the door open while sitting in the doorway tying their shoes or rushing in from school.  Basically we give the geckos ample opportunity to explore the inside of the Woodruff Casa driving me absolutely nuts! 

The bottom of a geckos foot has tiny hairs..the magic ingredient for his acrobatics.

One particular day I had absolutely had it with these little creatures!  Alexis found a little Albino Gecko in her bathroom when she was brushing her teeth, causing the kids to avoid that area of the house until Tyson got home to remove it.  There was one perched next to our water purifier... blocking me from having anything to drink for the day, and two more were found scurrying along the hall wall.  When Tyson came home, I armed him with a mason jar and begged him to
 find all of the little creepers and get rid of them immediately.  Reluctantly, muttering  under his breath,  my hero caught and released all of our unwanted visitors.  Relieved that we were again alone in the house I picked up a laundry basket full of folded clothes to deliver to bedrooms, when staring at me was a huge yellow headed Nigerian Dragon.  Screaming, I dropped the basket and sprinted upstairs and had a complete and utter melt-down.  I stomped and stormed cursing and threatening the dirty lizard for trying on my clothes and sliding through my towels   I don't recall my exact words, but I know they were unkind, derogatory terms aimed at these home-invading reptiles.    I think I promised to slaughter every four legged tree climber in the entire continent of Africa, as vengeance for the crimes of the Yellow headed dragon.  During my tantrum, Tyson made a very astute observation.  Watching me rant and rave he calmly said, "It's not really about the lizards, is it?"

In our 8 years of marriage, he has never been more correct.  It was not really about the lizards at all!  In actuality I can handle a few four legged creatures in my space, I'm sure I could defend myself and children from a lizard attack if I needed to.  The lizards were just the last straw for the day..  A final inconvenience that when added to all of the other annoyances seemed exponentially larger than life!! 

 

I'm going to share a few of these little inconveniences that when piled up seem overwhelming.  I will inevitably reveal myself as an ungrateful, high maintenance, thin-skinned, brat.  But that shouldn't be news to anyone and isn't going to stop me from giving you a taste of a few frustrations!!! 

The kids always look forward to Friday after their homework, piano and chores are done and they get to play the Wii.  We've told the kids that  Friday and Saturday are called the Wii-kend because it's the time they can play their Wii video games. Logan is especially motivated by Mario Cart and counts down all week for the time he can play.  Unfortunately, as of last week, Friday, Saturday and Sunday will no longer be known as the Wii-kend at the Woodruff house.  (Instead, the weekend is just the time mom serves everything on paper plates so she doesn't have to do the dishes.)  The Wii that Santa brought last year for Christmas was inadvertently plugged into an outlet that didn't have a voltage regulator attached.   Basically, It means that the inside of our Wii consul and the inside of a chain-smokers lungs are virtually identical.  The kids and Tyson (my biggest kid) were devastated.  Alexis wants to ask Santa for another one.....but we explained that Santa only brings each toy once and he keeps track of what he has given.  It was a hard way to learn about the importance of using a voltage regulator for EVERYTHING!  I think the kids are ok about losing their Wii because we have talked about how fun it was to play with it every Wii-kend for almost a whole year!  Most kids around here will never even play once!

What I imagine the inside of our Fried-Wii to look like.
 

Speaking of electronics, when arriving in Abuja I had to trade my I-phone 4 (with Internet access, gps, and other awesomeness)  for a Samsung circa 1998.  Seriously, this phone resembles the one I had in college 14 years ago.  It's the type that requires you to push each button two or three times in order to type each letter. This is bad enough if you are trying to text someone a 3 or 4 word text, but  even worse if you have to include a greeting!... Yes, every conversation here (verbal, text, whatever) begins with something like, "You are very welcome, how was your night?  How are your children? How's the family?"  It  is considered impolite to just get right down to business as most Americans are accustomed to doing.  I just want to text "On My Way!"  but instead have to ask about health and family first!!!!  Aggghhh!  And with the old fashioned phone and it's cumbersomeness, by the time I have composed an urgent text, it is usually moot!  In the time it takes to compose a text on my phone, I could breed carrier pigeons, strap a letter to one, and have the message delivered. 

While setting up voicemail on my phone, the operater instructed me on the best method of checking messages while driving!  I wonder what the recommended way to text and drive is.

 

Also an adjustment is that the MTN network (the cellular phone service) gets overloaded regularly causing the phone to be a reliable source of communication only about 50% of the time.  There are no phone contracts here, as each person loads and reloads their phone with credits.   The economy here relies on Cash only, and everything paid in advance, so I go to the local hole in the wall to buy 1000 Naira cards to reload my phone each week. 

 

 

 

When you have a five year old boy at home the toilets don't always stay pristinely clean.  Our little guy has been working on being respectful of other family members by making sure that the toilet is flushed, and toilet seat is down and clean after each use.  I thought we were making progress until yesterday I found three toilets in the house that were un-flushed.  He denied even going to the bathroom, but I told him the evidence was right in the toilet bowl where he left it.....yellow and brown.  He and I walked to each bathroom to flush the toilets together and discuss proper bathroom etiquette.  My annoyance gave way to disgust when upon flushing, the water didn't clear.  We flushed again and again, and the water was still filthy.  I rushed around to check all the taps and sure enough the water coming from all areas of the house ranged from a dingy color pictured below, to a dark muddy brown.  I ran to the housekeeper to have her immediately stop the laundry as I didn't want my whites "washed" in what looked like coffee.  It was dark brown with sludge and smelled like a bag of potatoes that had been forgotten in a damp basement long enough to have sprouted eyes and hair. 

 

The embassy facilities manager came out  and had a crew working on it within minutes.  The city water had somehow gotten into our separate compound water supply bypassing the filter.  After many man hours of pumping water and flushing tanks, clean water was restored by bed time.  It left me with a lot to ponder about the cleanliness of the cities water supply.  I knew it wasn't drinkable, but didn't realize that it resembling sewage more than spring water.  Since we have a water distiller in the kitchen and a additional filter between the city supply, I didn't realize how bleak the water situation really is.  Clearly this was a one time event for me, but not for others. I want to look into it more to find out about the water quality available to the average Nigerian.  In the meantime it looks like I just need to apologize to Logan for assuming he didn't flush!!



Sorry Logan!!!

Adjustments!

So, I've adjusted to life in Africa!  I came to this conclusion, as a green taxi cab sped towards me, on the on the wrong side of the road, (because there was less traffic on our side of course) with a goat as one of his four passengers. I wasn't shocked or even overly irritated.  I didn't even think to reach for my camera, because I'm sure I'll see a similar thing again tomorrow and the next day.  My only thought as I swerved onto the shoulder to avoid collision, was "why does the goat get to sit 'Shot-Gun'?  That's a bit insulting to the other passengers don't you think!?'".
This led to the realization that I have moved beyond culture shock into a sort of comfortable routine.  I've accepted the once shocking and unusual and embraced a new "normal".   To find this new normal, I've just made a few adjustments and substitutions.  I thought I'd share a few of these adjustments with you..

I didn't realize this shop existed for the first few weeks we lived here, but this "hole in the wall"  has become my favorite shop.  It is only 30 yards from my compound, and is literally "a Hole in the wall"  that is boarded up before and after hours.  The shop owners, Faith and her husband live and work behind that wall with their two teenage kid.  Faith is so friendly and always asks about each one of my kids by name each time I stop by. This shop is a gold-mine and has taken the place of Target, Walmart, and 7-11 for me.  The refrigerator inside the shop works most of the time, so I often get a cold 'Coke-light' in a glass bottle (which I have to return to the store within an hour).  As you can see I am standing on a pile a squared off rocks placed on the ground for the customers' viewing convenience.  The store is even equipped with a trashcan for it's paying customers (the box to my right).  Unfortunately, not much of the garbage actually reaches it's target.
My hole in the wall sells everything you didn't know you needed, phone cards, peanuts, eggs (unrefrigerated of course), razors, beauty products (if you have dark skin), snacks, plantains, batteries , 1-ply toilet paper, etc.  They also sell cigarettes, not as a pack, but one at a time.  My thought is that if you have to buy cigarettes individually at N25 (15cents), then smoking may be a habit that you might want to kick!  Bags of water are also sold here, and is what most people drink because they are cheap and tap water is not clean.  I usually buy 10  little bags of water to  hand out to the barefoot workers I pass on my 18th of a mile walk home.  Currently, there a men digging trenches in the road to lay a new DSL line to our neighbor's house.  It makes me feel really sick to see these guys doing back breaking labor in the blazing African sun just so that a bunch of Americans can get more channels to their TV.  Then I realize how happy they are to be employed for the day.  Anyway, Sawyer and I like to treat them to some of our stock of Costco treats like Quaker granola bars and otterpops occasionally. 

Sawyer loves his daily walk to the shop.  He calls it the "Bread-store".  He either chooses and entire loaf of bread or a pack of "Nice Biscuits".  Each cost N50 (about 30 cents).   As soon as we get home, he gets to share his treat with his best friend, our housekeeper Immaculata. 
I still can't figure out why flour is so expensive here, but bread is insanely cheap.....unless of course this bread contains something besides white flour.... mmmm food for thought! 

These are the "Nice Biscuits" that Sawyer loves!  This picture definitely glamorizes them...we have yet to ope n a package and have them all the identical shape and size.  It's one of those 'Quality Control' things that we Americans take for granted. 

Luckily, we have the privilege of getting our gas from the Embassy.  It is imported and we go to a special station and trade gas tickets for however many liters we need.  Simple.  Not once have I had to wait for more than one other car before being filled up.  This is not the case for the rest of the population in Nigeria.  Roads often turn into parking lots as people spend entire days in the Fuel Queue waiting and waiting to get gas.  There have been fuel strikes recently caused by an unresolved dispute between gas companies, the government and the consumers.  Having no gas can  completely shut down the city because people can't get to work, school, generators can't run etc.  A couple of months ago there was a nearly empty school parking lot as many of the international students couldn't get to school because their drivers were out of gas. 



"Fuel Hawkers" are seen everywhere.  Teenagers, men, and even really young boys are seen up and down the roads waving surgical tubing that they use to funnel watered down gas into the tanks of cars for extremely exorbitant prices.  This man likely siphoned the gas from the tank of his own green cab to sell to the highest bidder.  He will surely make more money Hawking the gas to someone in a bind than he will chauffeuring people all day in his taxi. 
 

I am definitely unqualified to comment on the greasy fuel situation here, but the picture below sums up a common sentiment  regarding it.  

"Get the Shell Out of Here!!"

 

 



I miss McDonald's!!!  Go ahead and think you are better than me, that's fine!  I'm not ashamed.  I miss the ease of the occasional sprint through the drive-through to get 3 things from the dollar menu for the starving animals in the back seat, and an enormous bucket of Diet-Coke for myself (the driver needs to stay alert and happy).  When running home from sports and dance in the evenings, the last thing I want to figure out is what to make for dinner and how quickly I can make it while supervising homework and piano lessons concurrently.  McDonald's, Taco Bell, Chick Fil-a, Sonic, are life-savers in these situations.  I also miss having a 'safe' place for the kids to play when we are desperate to get out of the house. I know some of you don't think McDonalds' play places are safe because you've heard dirty stories about razors in the ball pit, and pedophile clowns from the 70's.   You are probably aware of the risk of diarrhea from playing on a filthy slide while eating chicken nuggets or the disease potential that goes along with licking a melted ice-cream cone off the floor (Logan actually did this).  Compared to what I have here, McDonald's is as Sterile as an Operating room.  I have seen some scary food prep here and would choose the filthiest Taco-bell in Los Banos California over most of what we have here.  The following pictures is the closest thing I've found to Fast-Food here.... There are stands similar to this along roads all throughout the city.   Food Handler's permit anyone??  

"

This meat will become "Suya".  Suya is Nigerian BBQ, and everyone eats it and loves it...  Consequently, a few of our guards have difficulty  pronouncing Sawyer's name, so he as acquired the nick-name Suya.  He is the Nigerian BBQ Boy!  ....Yes, that is meat sitting out in the sun :)  A friend and I went to Wuse Market a few weeks ago and somehow ended up in the meat section of the outdoor market.  Kidneys were being thrown from one vendor to his customer, whole cows were being decapitated and disemboweled while people bargained and bartered for pieces.  The horrible images I saw were only outdone by the stench in the air.  I emerged  from the carnage unscathed, except for blood stained tennis shoes and long-term emotional scarring!

The other common fast-food joints are the roasted corn stands.  I guess this is more like the vegetarian fast-food menu.  I felt pretty safe about this food option until Tyson reminded me of the man he'd seen cleaning his nails with the same knife he used to prep the food. 

These claim to be "All American Hot Dogs".  Have you ever seen tube-steaks floating in a jar in the US?!?

Signs like these are reserved for only the finest of buildings......everything else is Free-Game!!!  My poor 7 year old girl has seen more male nether regions than you can possibly imagine.  No one even tries to hide while peeing into traffic or along side a grocery store.  Why not drop your drawers in front of the general public?!  Speaking of which, any body of water including puddle, bucket or river rapidly becomes a locker room.  Dressing, undressing, bathing, talking while naked etc. are all activities we've seen taking place on the side of the road.


Well, I will have to post a part-2 to this post because it is getting late but there are so many other things I want to add.  Stay tuned and I will get to them soon.  In the mean time I will be dreaming about a Cherry-Lime-aid from Sonic....with the really crunchy ice!!

 

 



African Halloween Party

Sorry it's been so long since we've posted!  We have about 5 blogs we're trying to finish up, so stay tuned!!!

We've been asked several times what we miss about living in the United States.  Well, one of those things is Halloween.  Like most Americans, I always enjoyed Halloween, but it wasn't until I married Diana (who LOVES Halloween), that I really started having fun with the holiday.  Since marrying Diana, she and I have thrown a couple Halloween parties and had a lot of fun doing so.  So, before moving to Nigeria, we decided we would make a concerted effort to bring what we would need to continue our U.S. holiday traditions and make them really special for the kids - especially Halloween.  Diana and I decided it would be fun to throw a Halloween party for some of the international friends we've made here.  And we may have gone a bit over the top - but it was fun!

We decided to make it a costume party mainly for the friends of the kids, but make it compelling enough for the parents to stay.  It is common for parents to drop their children off at activities and leave, or to just send the kids with their driver.  We also wanted to get to know some of the parents, or get to know some of them better, so we decided to make the invitations unique, memorable.  In addition to the paper invitation, Diana sewed and I painted bags to look like jack-o-lanterns, and then we filled them up with candy corn, tootsie rolls, and other candy.  From the feedback we got from the parents, the kids loved the invitations and the candy so much they made their parents come! 

Our jack-o-lantern invitations

For the next few weeks, we spent the weekends and evenings planning the party, the food, and the activities.  It was fun for us, but it was also a lot of fun to see the kids get into the planning and the holiday.  The kids came to Wuse Market with us several times, helped to make tombstones and a coffin, and helped us decorate.

We set up the home so that as the families walked up to our home, they would have to pass through the graveyard in our front yard.  Upon entering the home, the families would be ushered into the spare bedroom to the side of the entryway, where we had a Halloween photo booth set up.  The families could come and get their pictures taken in their costumes.  If they didn't have a costume, or if they wanted to try on another one, we had all of our costumes, wigs, masks, and accessories set up for them to use. 

The family with our steward Immaculata

After taking a picture, the kids had several activities to choose from: a Halloween Beauty Salon and Tattoo Parlor (girls could get candy necklaces and their nails painted in Halloween colors; boys and girls could get Halloween tattoos put on); a table where they could decorate trick-or-treat bags (Diana made bags and we had fabric pens and bought jewels, beads, etc. to glue on); a table where they could ice and decorate large pumpkin cookies, and then a place where we had the classic Disney Halloween movies playing.  And, of course, we had a lot of food and drinks spread out on a large table in the front room. 

Our Jasmin getting her nails done by Raggedy Ann and a referee!

Decorating trick-or-treat bags

We found Sawyer eating the icing and candy off everyone's cookies!

Some of our guests enjoying the food

 So, for the first hour and a half, the kids and families enjoyed the various activities and socializing while eating the food.  We then started the first activity - the cupcake walk.  In our hallway we set up all the numbers on the ground and all the prizes on a small table.  I managed the music - the Monster Mash, Thriller, etc.  The kids walked around the numbers until the music stopped, at which time someone would call out a number.  The child on that number would get to pick a cupcake and a prize from the table (Halloween nail polish, pirate eye patch, etc.).  The game lasted until. . . well, until we were dying of boredom and told the remaining kids to come and grab a cupcake and pick a prize! 

The cupcake walk

Trying to destroy Frankenstein!

The next activity was the pinata.  The kids had helped me make a pinata in the shape of Frankenstein's head - we made Frankenstein smiling on one side, and angry on the other.  And, because we had invited a lot of kids and wanted them all to have a shot, we made it out of a small box so it would be more durable.  Well, durable it was!  We had over 30 kids, and after the first 10 had their go, barely a dent was made!  Given, they were the youngest kids, but even still, barely a scratch.  So, we decided to let the kids have a few whacks with the blindfold on, and then a few whacks with the blindfold off.  Even still, by the time there were only two kids left in line, Frankenstein still barely had a scratch.  During the turn of one of the last girls, the pinata dropped on the ground and the girl asked if she could stomp on Frankenstein.  The last girl asked if I would hold the pinata so she could "do taekwondo" on it.  Still, barely a dent.  So, I ripped it open and tossed candy around.



Because we only have three homes on the compound, trick-or-treating wasn't possible.  After the candy was stuffed into their decorated bags, I came out into the family room dressed covered in a grim reaper cloak and holding a lantern and a treasure map.  I proceeded to take the kids on a treasure hunt around the compound, ending at the home-made coffin filled with candy.

We were asked by most of the families after the fact whether or not we were going to do this again next year, so we considered the party a success.  We made samosas, chicken kabobs, fruit, hot dogs, cupcakes, cake, pumpkin spice Chex mix, and Halloween white trash popcorn.  And we were fortunate enough to have a few good friends who came just to help out with the different activities.  It was a ton of work, but it looks like we've started a new Halloween tradition.

The cooks making samosas!

A short get-away!

The last time I kept a journal I was 15.  My mom bribed me with $.50 per page, and like most teenagers I was in desperate need of cash, and had few other opportunities to acquire any.  So, I set out to make as much money as possible, pouring my soul onto the lined pages of my blue pleather journal.  I'd write as much as my hand could take, pushing through writers cramp all in the name of earning a few bucks for the movies and shopping.  Since writing was very difficult for me (probable the motivation behind my mom's eagerness to help me improve), each dollar I earned was precious.  I would have rather dug ditches or mowed  the lawn in 100 degree heat than laboriously document my experiences.  But money was money, and I did whatever I could to get my hands on some. 
This all came to a screeching halt when a little while after beginning my journal-writing job I decided to flip through some old entries to remember what I'd written.  To my absolute horror, there inside my journal, were red pen marks!  Yes, grammatical corrections made by my well intentioned, loving, English teacher mother! It's obvious she wasn't tying to be sneaky or deceptive (hence the red ink), but needless to say, I've kept my thoughts in my head, and far away from paper since that time.

Well, this blogging thing is my second attempt at journaling and I'm happy to report that despite over 6000 people having read it,  I don't feel the least bit violated!  Sharing a few stories with our friends and family (and complete strangers in Bangladesh, Italy, and Pakistan apparently) really helps us feel a bit more connected when we are so far away.  It was my friend Kathy Kidd's idea for us to keep a blog...  So thanks for being interested in what we are up to, it shortens the miles between us.   I've learned that even if garbage is all I can write then I should write it anyway, because Garbage eventually becomes compost with a little treatment! 
 
So here's to my writing garbage and your help making it compost!

 Here is the excrement from last week...Since there isn't much to do in Abuja, and we aren't allowed outside of the Ring-Road without armed escorts, the CLO (community Liaison officer) at the Embassy organized a field trip.  Our destination was the Bwari Pottery Village, and getting there was half the fun.  We drove in a motorcade of 6 suv's escorted by 6 armed guards which I felt was complete overkill until we reached the city limits.  At that point I knew why they were necessary.  I would have felt less vulnerable hiking in a dress made of bacon in bear country.  It was beyond sketchy!!  I was sudden longing for the relative "safety" of Abuja 50 km away. 
Fortunately our family was able to drive in our own vehicle in the motorcade so we could enjoy gawking at all of the sights together.  We had a running contest to see who could find the craziest thing....I think we all won because there was no shortage of unusual sites!  At one point we entertained ourselves counting the number of people on each motorcycle we passed.  Six people on one motorcycle was the max we found, but there were many with 4 or five riders, and one towing a wheelchair!  We laughed that  we had wasted so much money on an SUV when all we really needed was a family dirt-bike!  Apparently there is enough room on a two-wheeled vehicle to drive the kid's car-pool. 
Armed with only my I-phone, I wasn't able to capture many good pictures from our speeding car, but at least I got a few to give you a flavor of what it was like. 

This must be the Nigerian equivalent to the baby "car-seat".  I can't imagine it is Pediatrician approved, but it is how  everyone transports their babies.  We saw so many babies strapped to the back of motorcycles and even a few who looked like they were driving......mmmmmm, Why is infant mortality so high?
 

The "Nike Outlet"!  One of the thousands of identical stores selling random knock-off goods on the side of the road.   
 

See the piles of fire-wood on the ground? Nope, that is not fire-wood, but the number-one food staple here.  They are Nigerian Yams.  Yams here aren't sweet like we are used to, and they are more "woody" like a Yucca plant.  Yams, and Yam flour comprise a big part of most diets here.....but not at the Woodruff house.  I'm not willing to cook fire-wood for dinner when we still have boxes of perfectly good  Mac and Cheese in the cupboard!

Choosing a handmade lantern from all of the pottery at the Bwari Village.  Every time we use it we will think of our little escape from Abuja for the day!

This man is kneading all of the air bubbles out of the clay so it will be strong and not crack when made into pottery.  His arms were lean, mean, clay- kneading machines!!

Sawyer and Tyson in the Shea House.  The Pottery Village also makes Shea butter and Shea soap from the local Shea nuts and clay. 

Alexis learning to use the pottery wheel with Mohammad.  This picture is very reminiscent of the famous scene from "Ghosts" minus Patrick Swayze of course!

Logan's favorite part was playing in the mud while creating a Christmas present for grandma!  Shhhhh!  Don't tell her!

Some of the local police posing with the kids.  People are always asking to "SNAP" our children.  The first time someone wanted to Snap my kids I was freaked!  No I know it means to take their picture!