CSI: Jos

Some days just don't turn out like you think they will, know what I mean?

This past weekend we hosted a sports ministry retreat at our campsite just outside of Jos proper. We were not in charge of the programming, just the facilities, food (recall my shopping trip with Mamma Hanatu), and a little canteen. Things had been going fairly well during the first two days, except that due to the number of participants fluctuating on a nearly hourly basis, we had to keep making runs into town for food. Saturday morning Claudia and I were doing just that but we kept getting these texts on the cell phones asking us to hurray up because people were not happy and there was a bad atmosphere at camp. No more details were given except some mention of running out of bread for breakfast, so we grab a few extra loaves and get out there as soon as we made our purchases. Upon arriving, however, we discover that there was a much bigger issue at hand than just some hungry bellies (though, that can be a pretty serious problem here, too).

Apparently, when one of our guards did not show up for work the night before, a search party was sent out and discovered him dead in the river bordering our property. So when we arrived, the body had been pulled out of the water and now needed transporting to the hospital. The chief of the village was there to oversea the procedure and several other men helped to pout the corpse in Claudia's truck. It was fairly bloody due to to some gash wounds to the head. Now, I did not have a chance to go near the corpse, much less take pictures, so you'll have to use your best Hollywood imagination. When Claudia returned from the hospital, we began to try and put some pieces of the puzzle together. Babba Afan, the guard, normally walked the couple of kilometers from his village to work. but unfortunately, often spent a good deal of time with the local brew before coming. He was an older gentleman and we had had an intense rainstorm the previous evening so not only was the river swollen, but the footbridge across it was mighty slick. We heard that a shoe was found on the bridge but the body was pulled out a couple hundred meters down a winding, narrow, -river, which seemed odd. Also giving us some pause were the seriousness of the gashes in Babba Afans's head, he messed up jaw, and the amount of blood he seemed to lose. So, the only thing to do was to go check out the crime scene. Four of us went down to the footbridge to have a look around and I'm telling you, it was straight off of CSI. I watched, somewhat bemused, as the tree trunks were inspected (with the naked eye) for skin or hair remnants and attempts were made to identify footprints on the boards of the bridge. I had to stop myself from asking out loud, "But what would the motive have been?" At the end of the day, we concluded that he might have fallen a couple times en route and then slipped and knocked his head really hard on the bridge as he fell into the river. No autopsy was done (they rarely are here), nor was a police report officially filed, so we'll never know for sure. I do know that Claudia's truck has never been so clean, though. She was just going to take a hose to it and was told that it had to be completely cleaned out and sanitized so that there would not be any suspicion of any of the blood being used for any kind of idol sacrifice. I was thinking more along the lines of disease transmission prevention, but was informed that animistic worship is still pretty rampant here and that's the reason for the thorough cleansing.

Babba Afan's death certainly caught me by surprise, but it has opened up a neat door to the village where he was from. The participants of the sports camp took the initiative to gather a collection of money to give to the bereaved family and Babba's family hardly knew what to do. Then some of us camp staff attended the funeral and burial on Monday (a whole other story) and the family and village elders were profoundly touched that we could make the effort to attend. This is not a Christian area and yet when we were leaving the village, the chief said, "We could really use a missionary like you, Aunty Claudia, here." Maybe, just maybe, Christ's love and compassion was communicated. You won't hear a CSI episode with that as the closing line.

Rare Ruwa

Word of the day: Ruwa (pronounced like it looks) = water

I couldn't resist sharing this with you. The other day I come back to my apartment and have a note on my door. Here's what it said:

Severe Water Shortage
Ground water takes are empty!
No flushing except 1x per day
No washing machine
No showers- only bucket baths
Save all water for flushing.

The funniest part was that the stationary it was written on had this poem by J. Howared Payne:
"Mid pleasures and palaces
though we may roam
be it ever so humble
there's no place like home."

Ha ha! Now, in case you don't remember, we are still in the rainy season until late October. And this picture is of the water reservoir for Jos... yes, it is full. So, you may ask, what's with the shortage? Well, apparently the water workers went on strike. Strikes are quite popular around here, especially with government paid jobs like university workers, federal farmers, city facility employees, etc. The workers timed it just right too because it hadn't rained in a few days so many people's extra supply, like ours, was low. Then, I guess the power company workers wanted to join in on the fun because that same night, the electricty went off for a few hours. Ah... T.I.A!

Mamma and Market

There's someone I'd like you to meet, her name is Hanatu, but to me, she's "Mamma Hanatu." Besides being beautiful, smart, and strong, Mamma Hanatu is our head cook for all the camps we do her in Jos and I had the pleasure of meeting her this week. For you Brookwoods/Deer Run people, she's like the Nigerian Momma St. John :) When she's not cooking for camp, she runs this shop in her neighborhood, selling Nigerian stables like cose, ache, maize, clean rice, "village" rice, beans (actually black-eye peas), ground nuts (peanuts, which, let's be honest, ground nuts makes more sense), and a few other things that I can't remember the name of. The picture is of M. Hanatu in her shop. Since a sports ministry would be utilizing our camp facility this weekend, we picked up M. Hanatu so we could go shopping for all the needed provisions. Not only does she know exactly where to go for each thing, but Claudia and my white skin would immediately drive up the price. So we picked her up and off we went to go shopping.

Now, perhaps you know something about shopping in countries like Nigeria, but just in case you don't, allow me to explain a few things. First, It is an absolutely wild experience. If you thought it was exhausting to make a Wal-mart run, try shopping for a week's worth of groceries here. Rather than having a super market with things ordered into aisles, the goods are loosely divided into sections of the market. And I mean, VERY loosely. Plus, there are several main markets in Jos and you certainly wouldn't get your yams the same place you buy your meat because the yams at this market are better and the owner of the meat stand at the other end of town is your cousin. I tried to take pictures of the market but what's not included is the bustle of people, motorbikes, cars and the aromas of smoking fish, picked this morning guavas, and fresh ginger root. All of your senses are on full alert. Well, thankfully, Mamma Hanatu was with us. I had done a bit of exploring in the market near my house, but hadn't ventured through all the alleys, squeezing around palm oil bottles and over trash-strewn gutters. At one point on this shopping adventure we divided up a bit in order to expedite the process. Claudia stayed to pay and M. Hanatu and I set off. Grabbing my hand, M. Hanatu steered me up and down the labiryth of shops. Her tough, calloused hands gripped mine with such a protective, motherly touch, I naturally followed her lead. She was never too rushed to stop and explain the use of items to me or answer my myriad of questions about what the heck I was looking at. In fact, I think she rather delighted in sharing her vast wisdom about her culture with me. I'm secretly trying to scheme ways to get her to go shopping with me more often :)

I'm sure there will be days when I'm dog-tired and just don't feel like plunging into the whirlwind of the market place, but right now it's pretty darn exciting. All the vegetables are fresh, delivered form the village that day and the meat, though potentially a little repulsing to my vegetarian friends, lays out on the table and is cut right in front of you. After a while, you drop these silly notions about flies contaminating food just by landing on them and you happily purchase a chunk of beef for dinner (like this girl in the picture is doing for her family). I'm beginning to get the hang of bargaining with people for I have a better idea now of how much I should be paying for a pineapple or a bag of lettuce. "400 Naira?! No way! I'll just go down the street." The key is to start to walk away and see if they call you back offering a lower price. Or the classic line they'll say, "OK, bring money." **chuckles** I love it, and so do they. At first I felt bad trying to get a lower price when compared to American prices it was already a steal. But I learned that 1) Nigerians enjoy bargaining; it's part of their culture, and to not do it is slightly offensive. 2) If we baturis (white people) pay the higher price all the time, then that will only help to drive up inflation. Thus, I'll pay no more than 250 Naira for a pineapple, and even then, it better be a big one.

Oh, and though Nigerians typically thing big when considering quantity, vegetables and fruit does not keep long, even in the refrigerator, so you end up having to shop at least a couple times during the week. Again, since you have to go 5 different places for 5 different things, you could end up shopping every day. I'm still getting the hang out it.

Well, I think I better stop there for the market post. I shan't leave you with out a Hausa phrase for the day, though. Here's a good one.

Nawa ne? (NOW-ah nay) = How much?

First day in the office!!

Yahoo!! Today I had my first full day in the ECWA (Evangelical Church of Western Africa) Camp Youth Alive (all of that abbreviated to ECYA) office with my 3 other co-workers: Claudia, Akim, and Shama. The three of them took last week off after finishing a full camping season and I read through camp evaluations and settled in. But today we came together as a team for the first time and it was glorious. Claudia is the captain of our team, having been the pioneer of this camping ministry for over 12 years. Akim and Shama have both been campers and counselors and now are on paid staff. Both are incredible men of God, ability, and passion for this ministry. I had been praying that we would all be unified in the Spirit from the beginning and I'm happy to report that it seems that God has answered that prayer. Because our team captain will be leaving for fulough in in November for 6 months, it's really important that Akim, Shama, and myself are in sync with each other since we'll be running the show. Please continue to pray for the handing over the baton process.

LANGA LANGA

OK, I know I have been putting the word of the day at the bottom of the blog, but this one was just too much fun. "Langa langa" is the phrase used to describe the action done to cut the grass. Now, don't substitute "mowing" in for grass cutting...no, no. To langa langa is to take a sickle-like tool and swing at the grass just so to cut it. I wish I had a picture of it to show you. Perhaps I'll take one sometime in the near future, but recently this "langaing" has intersected with my life. Saturday morning I wake up to the sound of a gardener outside of my window. Alarmed at first at the strange noise being made, then just curious, I peek out and see him langa langa the grass. This looks like it would be fun for all of 5 minutes. We don't have a whole lot of grass in the yard of our compound anyways, so I didn't feel TOO bad for our kind gardener. (By the way, he did a great job:) ) Then today, as we were discussing what needed to be done for the campsite to be ready for a sports team to come this weekend, Claudia says, "Yeah, and I need to ask the guards to langa langa the soccer field." I don't know what I reacted to more - the coolness of the word or the idea that 2 guys were going to have to clear an entire soccer field with a sickle! You people who are all into landscaping, can you imagine?! I guess that's why there aren't any fitness clubs in Nigeria and everyone is still so buff.

Anyways, I know that may not sound terribly exciting, but I got a kick out of it. I plan on writing a bit more about the camp but just to wet your appetite, pictured is the dining hall/meeting area/central building of the camp. Also, just to the right of the muddy drive is the aforementioned field.

One more big piece of news. As far as I know, this is not related in any way to Nigeria, but coinciding with leaving the states, I have acquired the ability to wiggle my ears. I've NEVER been able to do this before despite my sincere attempts. All of a sudden though, I can access the right muscles and it's quite entertaining. Sometimes, when I'm listening to someone, I wiggle them just a bit to see if it helps. Check out the video for this cool new René phenomenon.

And stay tuned for more African Annals!

Only a knife knows what the inside of a coco-yam looks like.

That's a good ol' African proverb for you, meaning that those who investigate and research something understand the subject. I've got be honest, I have yet to see the inside of a coco-yam. BUT, I have been able to check out some other nifty things this week and maybe, just maybe, I'm beginning to understand something more about Nigeria.

POUNDED YAMS

Everyone always wants to know "what do you eat?!?" whenever one travels to an unfamiliar country. Understandable, we like our tummies to be happy. I have been pretty curious too because the first few days I just bopped from one missionary family's house to another for meals, enjoying the perks of being a newcomer and consequently, I've eaten fairly normal food made mostly by non-Nigerians. One meal, I had the pleasure of partaking in the most quintessential Nigerian meal: pounded yams. Now, there's good reason why I haven't had this yet: it takes serious work! You have to peal and cook the yam, which looks like a really dirty potato on steroids (about as big as my leg from the top of the knee down and almost twice the diameter). Then you put the sucker in this overgrown wooden mortar and pestle (pictured with me) and just go at it for hours. I guess you'd call the process-pounding :) Well, there are a couple more steps, but you end up with rounded lumps that are cross between a dumpling (you northerners might not know what that is), mashed potatos, and raw dough. The proper Nigerian way to eat pounded yam is to break off a chunk, dip it in your soup, and the shove it in your mouth...no utensils required. See Corinne's lovely demonstration in the picture. We had this amazing soup called agusi...I've got to remember it the next time I buy food from one of those street vendors. SO, that helps to answer your question of what I might be eating for the next 2 years, and answers my question of what in the world you do with that monstrous potato-like vegetable sold every 5 feet in the market.

THE TRANSITION HOUSE

In leiu of the camp being cancelled for this week, I had the opportunity to see a couple of SIM's other ministries in Jos. So one rainy morning I jumped in a van and headed over to the Transition House (TH) for boys. When we arrive, what do we find, but a rousing game of soccer of course! I'm telling you, I've seen the exact same scene in Mexico, Brazil, and the Philippines and each time I can't help but smile at the inexplainable joy this game brings people. By the way, just as a sidenote, Nigerian just won the Under 17 World Cup this past weekend. That's a big deal, especially in helping the morale of these young guys to know that Nigerians can measure up favorably with the rest of the world. Well, these boys were having a blast and I watched them for a good half hour while hearing what TH is all about. Essentially, these boys chose to come off the streets at some point through the ministry of Gidan Bege ("House of Hope", another ministry of SIM), make a decision to permanently leave that way of living (stealing, begging, etc.) and work towards a better life. Each boy attends school and all kinds of programs run by TH such as Bible study, computer training, and choir. An older boy named, Tunda gave us a tour and repeatedly said, "I am so thankful for what this ministry has done. The ministry has done me much good." As we stood out on the porch talking with a couple guys, I was floored by their stories and their passion to serve God. Some want to be electrical engineers, some professional sports players, but all desire to share Christ's love in whatever they do with their life. I nearly teared up to hear about their dreams, knowing that so many boys their age have no real expectations of reaching their dreams and so they stifle them. Also, many of these boys had attended the camp program I've come to be a part of and shared how it was really foundational in their understanding of Christ. One boy said, "I came to camp, and I didn't know anything about Christianity. Soon after I left camp I came to know Jesus personally." Wow. That's why I am here in Nigeria: that these kids may know Christ and His love more than before and then be about the business of making Him known. By His grace, that's what I'll do.

SIGHTS AND SUPERvisor Finally, at long last, I've been able to hang out with Claudia (pictured with a weird look on her face...she has a great smile normally:)), the current camp coordinator who I will be working VERY closely with for the next 2 years. We've spent some great time together already, getting to know each other and her beginning the transaction of oodles of information about the camp over to me. We took a little drive up to the campsite just outside of Jos and I saw the natural beauty of the area with delightful mountains popping up all over the landscape. It's not called the plateau state for nothing! As fun as the city is, I felt myself relax a bit more when we were surrounded by the mountains and fields. I imagined myself taking afternoons to climb up the rock bolders and explore the rock formations. Such a beautiful country...you should really see this, because only a knife knows what the inside of a coco-yam looks like :)

And your Hausa for the day is: San Juma = "see you later"

Let me count the ways...

Home in Nigeria, how do I love thee, let me count the ways:
(see those windows down on the left...that's my place!)

-I love how this compound isn't so much several separate apartments, but rather one big house for us single missionaries. As of today, 6 of the spaces are occupied by other single folks like myself and one couple affectionately called, "Mom and Dad." We all float in and out of each other's apartments with much more comfortably than I've ever seen in the states.

-I love how my gate key only opens one (red one in picture above) of the 3 gates to the compound. Even more fun how one door can't be closed from the outside so when I come in that one gate, I still have to walk around to my back door to get in. (back door pictured w/ me)

- I REALLY love the garden out my back door complete with mango, avocado and guava trees. There are also some really pretty plants and flowers but I'm not horticulturalist...especially not in Africa. You'd love it though mom and Russ!

-I love how I've inherited all this random household goods left behind by previous short-termers (2 years or less). Included in the loot is a REALLY old painting of some fisherman's docking station in 1920 Ireland, an adorable tea & saucer set for two, and my first kerosene stove. This last item is glorious seeing as the power goes on and off quite frequently. More on that later.

-I love my inline water filter for the way it methodically extracts all the yuckies and then gently drips into my nalgene. I certainly don't have to worry about it gushing everywhere! (see the white cylindrical thing pictured near the sink. yay for no water-born parasites!)

-I love our guard dogs, the lizards (pictured) who stand watch, ready to snap up any perpetrating spider or insect. I haven't see very many at all yet, for which I am quite grateful. I think rainy season keeps them at bay.

- I love the guards at the gate who often are resting if I get back later than 7pm, but who'll greet me with the biggest smile. One of them was the first number I put into the phone I got today. He also took this picture of Corinne and myself outside the gate. What a guy!

- I love how close I live in relation to my office (I could throw a stone and hit it...easily), the ECWA headquarters (out the back gate and across the street), and the center of town with the market (totally within walking distance...unless you're carrying a palate of eggs, bananas, outlet converters, flour, and vegetable cleaner...then you might want to hail a taxi).

And oh, the thoughtful color-coordination in the living room (pictured), 6:30 am squeaky gate opening, elegant (I think) mosquito net above my bed, and tin roofs all around that become marvelous instruments for the rain showers...all these things have endeared this place to me. I still haven't quite come to grips with the fact that I'm setting up residence here for two years (that's what my visa says), but "home" has escaped my lips already when referring to my apartment. Really...you should come see it :)

T.I.A

<--[My first view of Nigeria from the airplane and the Sahara that I got to see for about 3 hours out of my window-->]

If any of you have ever seen the movie "Blood Diamond" (I highly recommend it), you may be familiar with the phrase T.I.A.: This Is Africa. I thought I understood it before, but just being here 5 days has shed some blazing new light on the concept. You may be wondering why I'm writing a blog since I'm supposed to be off somewhere doing my best to run my first Nigerian youth camp. Well...this is Africa. No, that doesn't mean that I'm writing this via some REALLY cool, advanced piece of technology available only in Nigeria. Here's what it means. Friday morning I am in the shower, going through things in my head and making sure I have everything together that I need to leave for camp @ 10 when I hear some knocking outside my b-room window. My window opens up to the same hallway that my front door does but it's hard to tell which door someone's knocking on becaue everything echoes. Well, that confusion was cleared up when I hear, "René...?" So from the shower I answer, "I'm here...in the shower. Who is it?" Turns out to be Claudia Long, the director, trailblazer, and powerhouse of this camping ministry. She also happens to be my supervisor and the ride I was looking for. I finish up quickly, throw some clothes on and throw the door open to greet Claudia. We exchange long-awaited hugs and then she informs me that there will be no more camps, they've been cancelled. Then, with much regret and frustration she goes on to explain how the committee heads of this one community waited until the night before staff training was to begin to inform her that they hadn't been able to get enough kids to sign up. There are MANY details involved here (money, agriculture community, Nigerian's reluctance to disappoint, lack of ability to communicate, etc.) but the end of the story was that I would not be rushing off 2 days after I arrived to start camp. This is a bit unfortunate because I won't have a chance to do a camp with Claudia before she leaves for a 6-month furlough(missionary vacation of sorts) and hands the reigns over to me and her other assistant. On the plus side, I got to spend the day (my birthday, by the way) with Claudia asking a zillion questions and then attending a great bit potluck dinner with many of the other SIM missionaries that serve in Nigeria. What a fantasticly diverse and dynamic group of people there were filling that house...not to mention some incredible food. I can't wait to learn how to cook more!! Ah, well, that's enough for this post. I'm sure there'll be more examples of how T.I.A. in the future.