Finally, Money!

Opening a bank account was one of our first priorities upon landing in Nigeria. We went to the bank the first week in Ibadan, filled out the forms, counted our Naira and left with the understanding that sometime in unknown future we would have a bank account number and ATM card. Four weeks later, that day is finally here. Today, for the first time in a month I withdrew my own money from an ATM. I have been borrowing money from my teachers, my mom and the fellow students for the past month. I have serious debts to pay back (well not so serious because food–the bulk of my purchases– is incredibly cheap here).

Maybe we should have been scared when we visited the bank multiple times to find out our money was “in a certain place” and couldn’t be retrieved. But we all exercised extreme patience and alas, a month later, we can access our money. The bank seemed pretty legitimate-to enter each person must stand in a metal detector vestibule one at a time, the place is air conditioned and is usually packed with people waiting in line. The most stimulating part of each visit was watching every head turn at the moment we stepped through the entrance capsule. We made fast friends with the bankers and didn’t have to wait one minute before one approached us, ushered us to sit down and help us with our business.

Now we all have the pleasure of listening to the ATM machine play Hakuna Matata instrumentals while we insert our shiny cards that display our first name, middle name and last initial (don’t ask me why) to receive our hard earned Naira.

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Food: Dried Fish

Eja gbigbe with pepper and okra soup.

I really like fish. Salmon, halibut, tilapia–yes please. Raw fish in sushi–excellent. ‘Eja gbigbe’ the curled up brown thing you see in the bowl above is a different breed. ‘Eja gbigbe’ means dried fish in Yoruba and is extremely popular here. Mainly Hausa people make and sell it. You see it all over the markets hung up on long poles or stacked high in buckets. If you don’t see it first, you will definitely smell it. You poke a stick through the head and the tail to form it into a circle and use a combination of fire and sun to get the dried effect. The fish, usually either catfish or small eel, is dried with all the bones and guts inside. The smartest first step is to take the spine out first then eat the meat while maneuvering around the smaller bones. It tastes a bit salty and mostly takes on the flavor of whatever soup/stew you eat it with. Above, I ate it with spicy pepper and okra soup. Yummy! You eat the fish with your right hand only, along with most other foods here except rice. The first time I ate it I started before the Yoruba girl across from me and finished 15 minutes after her. Eating ‘eja gbigbe’ is definitely an art.

Road side stalls. Eja gbigbe on the platter in the front left.

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Weekly Òwe

Without a reason, the revered father cannot get Gonorrhea because they are supposed to be abstinent. You use this proverb to explain that there is a good reason for something. You might be wearing a wool jacket during the summer and someone asks you ‘Why?!’ This proverb applies in that situation.

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Dance – a step forward

Yesterday I made significant strides to becoming more Yoruba. Keegan and I went to the Cultural Center of Ibadan where we are supposed to be a month into our internship. When we arrived yesterday afternoon, the directors of the government-run center had no work for us not to mention a plan of what we are going to do for the next month and a half. We spent 30 minutes deciding that we will split our work into working with the performing arts department for 2 weeks and the visual arts department for 2 weeks. That was our ‘work’ for the day. Outside of the center we stumbled upon a dance troupe practicing for a competition later that day. Keegan, my teacher Segun, and I stood around, pretending to play a ‘bata’, watching until Sango (pronounced Shango) commanded me to join the team’s practice. I seized the moment and tried, somewhat unsuccessfully to follow the sharp, fast gyrating movements.

I'm on the far left struggling to follow the fast dance moves.

The girls and 2 men in the team didn’t seem to mind my presence and befriended Keegan and I after. I became fast friends with a 20-year-old girl named Precious. I recited a few proverbs, told her my Yoruba names (which she did not believe) and after 2 minutes she was stuck to my side, her arm interlocked with mine the rest of the day.

Precious and I. The girls helped me 'we gele' to blend in with the Yoruba culture.

It is common for girls and boys to hold hands here. Strangers are always touching me or holding my hand for a bit longer than is culturally accepted in the U.S.

After the dance rehearsal we went to the competition with the team. We sat and talked with them while they got dressed in traditional Yoruba clothes to perform, speaking Yoruba the entire time. This was so exhilarating for me because it was the first chance I had to speak Yoruba comfortably with new people my age outside of University of Ibadan walls. We sat down outside under the shade of a tree to watch the performance.

Sitting under a tree to keep out of the sun at the dance competition.

At any Yoruba gathering, it is customary to invite the important guests up to pray before the event starts, give a few greetings and opening words. The MC asked Keegan and I to do a greeting. I took the mike first and welcomed people then said a Yoruba phrase “Laisi ilu, ko si ijo,” translated to “without drumming there is no dancing,” then encouraged us to watch the dancing. This resulted in the MC making me dance for the audience. The drums played and I danced…

I decided to let my inhibitions go and dance for the audience at the dance competition.

All of the introductions, prayers and greetings took much too long and we had to leave before the dancers performed. Dance is a big part of Yoruba culture and knowing how to dance well, in addition to knowing the language and proverbs, is really impressive to Yoruba people. Shango is coming to our center to give us dance lessons and we will also learn at our internship at the Cultural Center. For now I might be making a fool of myself, but they will respect me soon enough.

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Don’t drink the water

Water is an issue in Nigeria. The public water supply is unsafe to drink. Homes that have running water don’t drink what comes from the tap. Public water fountains do not exist except for very rich neighborhoods. So the people drink water in bags. They call it sachet water, or pure water.

 

'Blessed' brand pure water.

 

Sachet water is convenient, easy to store and most of all, extremely cheap. On the streets, one bag goes for 5 Naira, that’s about 2 cents. Each bag yields 0.5 liters (500 ml) of water. The bag is easier to dispose of than plastic bottles. YOu can buy a big bag of 24 sachets for 50 Naira. Although sachet water is supposed to be a solution to contaminated public water, some of the sachet water is still poor quality. (Our directors tell us we can only drink Blessed and Ladewa brand pure water.

 

Step 1) Rip off a small corner of the bag with your teeth.

 

 

Step 2) Drink.

 

I brush my teeth and shower with the tap water and have had no problems at all. The novelty of drinking water out of a little plastic bag hasn’t worn off yet, even it if does taste a bit like plastic.

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One month? Really?!

Exactly one month ago I left home. At the end of each month I (I think college students in general) tend to reflect on the past month and say something like “Woah, that went fast. It’s October already?” When September came to a close and it was time to celebrate 50 years of Nigerian independence from Britain on October 1, I did not have the familiar shocked exclamation at how fast the month went. On the contrary, it feels like I’ve been here for maybe three months.

The pace of life here has been super slow here compared to the U.S. I don’t have papers to write, hundreds of pages to read or big parties to go to on the weekends. At night I pass the time talking to my host family, reading the Wole Soyinka book I’m currently enthralled in, or reviewing new Yoruba vocabulary words. Most of the time we do not have electricity at night, more impetus to relax. Plus, students don’t go out much at night here. As far as I know, no bar or club exists on campus. The closest thing is a restaurant called Spices that serves beer and Suya, a Nigerian delicacy I will explain in a later post. I go to bed between 9 and 11 pm every night. It’s wonderful! It feels liberating to have no serious obligations or stress hanging over my head for the first time in years.

Even though we have seen a lot and as first time visitors in Nigeria, we have experienced new things, time still feels like its gone slow. It seems I measure time by the measurable achievements I’ve made over a given time. In Madison, one month feels like a week because we are constantly checking things off a checklist, meeting deadlines and making plans. In Nigeria one month feels like three months that constant pressure to accomplish things is not there. Except for the driving culture (cars speed everywhere and honk constantly), urgency is a foreign concept. Nigerians are not disappointed if plans don’t turn out because it’s expected. Transitioning from the fast-pace life I lived in Madison to the easy going, slow life here is a much welcome change. I think it will change when University classes start in November but until then I will bask in the slowness of life.

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Journalism of no verification

The Nigerian Tribune printed an article with the headline “Four Americans Here to Learn Yoruba Language” in the Saturday, October 2 edition of the paper. The article, by Sunday Saanu features a page-width picture of us, confusing information about our program and Yoruba language pedagogy in the U.S., and finally completely botched quotes from Kevin and I. You must understand that journalism in Nigeria does not have the same standards as journalism in the U.S. I am not trying to condemn Nigerian newspapers, but they do not adhere to credible methods of verification, which is so critical to journalism in the U.S. Direct quotes are not common, and if they do appear in an article, it’s not until the end. Such is the case with this article printed about us. Here is how they quoted me:

‘According to Cara who is now Titilayo, “I love Nigeria, I am really enjoying every minute, in fact, I can even get married here if I see an interested man because I am an open-minded person.”‘

I did not say this. Yes, I did use the words ‘open-minded person’, ‘enjoying Nigeria’, but not in any way that resembles “sentence”. I am not happy. I have received hoards of Facebook friend requests, messages and inquires from men about the possibility of me marrying them. Men are ruthless here. I think my professors here at the Yoruba Language Flagship Center are demanding a correction be printed.

A small saving grace: they printed my name “Cara Hashman.” Hopefully this glaring mistake will throw people off when they try to find me on the Internet.

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Weekly Òwe

This proverb speaks about the importance of patience, a virtue sometimes hard to exercise in Nigeria, but very important nonetheless.

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