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?