Ni Opin Ose–The Weekend

The weekend in Ibadan is a time for relaxation, celebration and prayer. Families spend most of their time watching TV, reading or tidying up around the house. There must be at least three weddings on the University of Ibadan campus alone every Saturday. My family and I did not attend one this weekend, but on our drive on the way out of campus we saw hundreds of people decked out in traditional Yoruba clothing gathering outside the churches and mosques. My mom assured me I will be bored of weddings by the end of my 9-month stay here. Prayer is a big part of the weekend in that EVERYONE goes to either church or mosque on Sunday morning. Seeing that I’m Jewish and this weekend is Yom Kippur, I thought it would be wrong to go to church with my family, so I stayed home this time, but I will go in the future to see what it is like. My parents were up and in the pews by 7 a.m. The children go from 10:30-12:30. Religion is integrated into every part of life here. Many of the University signs have some comment about God’s blessing. When I tell people I’m a ‘Joo’ (how its pronounced here) people just say ‘ahh, so which church do you go to?’ Even the water I drink out of a sachet bag is called “Blessed.” But more about religion in another post…

This weekend my mom wanted to bake a wedding cake for one of her friends so we went to a woman named Mercy’s house outside of the UI gates in a neighborhood called Orogun to mix the batter and get the baking pans. While the women baked, I was left to hang out with the kids who sat in front of the compound sewing, eating, chatting and kicking a soccer ball around. The presence of an Oyinbo girl really stirred up their Saturday afternoon. Hearing me speak Yoruba made them all giddy, and like typical greeting situations they all wanted to ‘snap’ with me. I met a man there called ‘Ayo’ or Joy, and he spoke Conc Yoruba to me. Conc Yoruba is the real deep, concentrated traditional Yoruba language where the Yoruba we speak today originated from. I could hardly make out most of what he was saying. After I told him a few of the proverbs (òwé) I know, he asked me if I eat ‘pomo’. I don’t know what ‘pamo’ is, I told him, and he said ‘eh, eh, then you don’t know Yoruba.’ Apparently ‘pomo’ is the meat right under the cow’s skin that is a typical Yoruba dish. I’ll have to try it soon to be a real Yoruba person…

Some of the kids and I hanging out in front of the flat/apartment building I went to in Orogun.

Ayo, the Yoruba man who spoke Konk to me, and I.

Doing laundry at the back of the compund.

For the rest of the weekend we are going to Lagos to go to the American Embassy and meet the Regional Security Operations officials. I don’t know what exactly is in store, but any reason to go and observe Lagos is alright with me. Look forward to a post about the chaotic, bustling thorough-fare that is the Lagos-Ibadan Expressway.