Driving in Abuja or "Dear God, do you mean they really brought that license!!"

Sorry about the long time between posts people. I was suffering from many things including, crazyitus, procrastination, and a touch of discombobulation. Yes, I think that is right. I'm pretty sure I got over the crazyitus, not sure about the rest. I fear the procrastination will be a life long affliction. Now on to the story!

I heard stories about the crazy driving in Nigeria, but like the food prices I also though that it was exaggerated. I still had not learned my lesson, how sad is that? I think you will have to forgive me because we did arrive in the night and all I could think about was my bed after that 9 hour flight. I could not tell you anything about the streets we traveled that night we arrived.

Like the smell, the driving has to be experienced to be believed. I could tell you about it, but until you are in the midst of Nigerian traffic, you will not understand. The roads are lovely in Abuja, after all it was a planned city. The streets are numbered and named. But!

Most Nigerians on the road drive like nutcases, like children with toy cars. The roads are frequently congested, It's like they are all rushing to get on a bus first, they all crowd the roads to see who can get through first, with no regard for being orderly and seemly not aware that they could kill someone or themselves. It's like they are driving go carts or something. There are multiple traffic accidents every. Single. Day.

Traffic lights are are taken seriously, providing that you are not in a hurry or feeling inclined to be lawful that day. If you want to go on a red light,really why shouldn't you?
Road signs are taken as suggestions to be used only when it suits the person driving. This is because most Nigerian don't have any formal kind of driving instructions. They learn it from a family member or a friend, then they go buy a license and a car. Most of them have never see or heard of the highway code. If you get into an accident with a local person expect to be blamed, even if you were rear-ended. They drive on the right side here, so if someone is on the right side coming up your street when they should be on the left side there is an accident, then really you should have been more careful, Clearly you saw him on the road and should have made allowances, never mind he's on the wrong side.

Some of the things they do baffle me. They drive on the pedestrian path, while motioning to the pedestrians to get out of the way. I found no reason for this that I could fathom, they do it even when there's no traffic on the road. I figured this is what total anarchy and absence of an enforced and upheld law is like. And unfortunately even if they get caught doing these things, all they have to do is give the policeman a dash (this is what a bribe is called here) and they are on their merry way.



From the picture above you can see just how crazy they get, the traffic leaving the city was thick, some of them decided to create a new law. It's like a little devil suggest to them, if the traffic is heave on the lanes that you are using and you have important things to do or maybe you just can't wait, then why not use one of the lanes in the opposite direction, after all it's kinda empty and not being used right?.

For me I don't have half the problems most Nigerians have. We don't get stopped by the police and asked for a dash to go through check points. I heard one gentleman's story, who wanted to see if he could get his license the legal way with out paying any more than was required. It took him years to finally get it without dashing anyone.
So even if they wanted to, it's very difficult to get your license without paying for it.

There are all kinds of craziness to be seen everyday. I also have to talk about the people who sell stuff by the highway. You never have to leave your car, anything at all that you can think of they sell on the highway, nuts, eggs, apples, car tires, bicycle tires, vacuum bags, razors, cookies, car rugs, car accessories , ornaments, manicure sets, the list goes on and on. If you make the mistake of opening your window and ask how much though, they will all rush to your car!


You can have fun here if you can find the humor in everyday life and situations. Next time Caribbean night, Nigerian Style!

Christmas

Hi all, just wanted to say Merry Christmas to you. Unfortunately my modem got fried from the constant power outages, a minimum of 3 a day. I won't get a new one until next week, fingers crossed. I want to say thank you to every one who has written comments to me about the blog. I'm happy that you like it and thrilled that you have taken the time to read and leave your special messages!

Special thanks to Lois and Natalie for actually following the blog and making me look good ( hint, hint to everyone else damn it!) smooches on the cheek for both of you.

It absolutely does not feel like Christmas here, there is hardly any decoration in the shops and very little Christmas music on the radio. Some stores have tried to decorate by putting up some haphazardly tossed tinsel and ribbons, but there's this feeling, like it was done by someone who doesn't give a hiney about the holiday. I have been playing Christmas songs on itunes in an effort to get my Christmas spirit aroused, but so far, no luck.
I mean today's Christmas eve, the only decoration in our house is the Santa hat that I tossed on Anthony's miniature Indonesian statue (it looks very wrong!). And there's no way we are going to buy a turkey here, it will cost an arm, two legs and my liver.

There is enough dust in the air to choke a donkey, and them suckers have big nostrils. If you think Sahara dust is bad in Barbados then come to Nigeria. Anthony and I were discussing getting surgical mask like Michael Jackson.

So here's to not wishing a Nigerian Christmas on anyone, I hope that you all enjoy your holiday and that you have a fantastic new year filled with all kinds of goodie goodness!!

You are Welcome! (to Nigeria) - Lessons I learned So Far

Sorry I missed the last couple of weeks, my Internet at home went down. I've been suffering from web withdrawal, of course you know I'm using borrowed US Govt property to write this one now. I can't keep disappointing my loyal followers, all two of them. (hint, hint damn it!!) I'll try to make sure I post every Wednesday.

So now we've left Amsterdam, about to board our KLM fight to Abuja, and you know the strangeness has started because unlike other airports, the security check is done before board the aeroplane instead of before you enter the departure lounge. Just before you go into the portable corridor to the plane is when they do the security check. There is where I learned my first lesson about the average Nigerians.

Most Nigerians do not like to line up in a single line and go orderly one by one, it's everyman for himself. They cut in front of you and think nothing of it. They don't feel any sense of wrongness about it either. If you are not filling a space then it is obviously free for anyone who can.

Once you hit corridor then the smell hits you, "the armpit aroma". It's like walking down a column of men on either side who haven't bathe for days.... with their hands in the air! The armpit aroma also permeated the aeroplane, though not as bad as the corridor. I think KLM tired to be mindful of their non-african passengers and had the plane fumigated every now and then.
The flight was long, the seat was uncomfortable, the food was passable and the people on the plane were talkative. At the end of the flight, I noticed a Nigerian man talking to one of the flight attendants, (I'm assuming he was Nigerian, he wore the clothing and had the accent), she came back later with some packages and he put them in a plastic bag that he had waiting, I finally realized that they were left over sandwiches when I saw the packaging. This was my second Lesson, Most Nigerians will ask for things that we wouldn't dream of doing or might consider inappropriate.

But if I though the corridor at the Amsterdam airport was bad, it was nothing, nothing compared to the one at The Abuja airport, not to mention the airport it self. Have you ever been in the vicinity of something that smelled so terrible that you tried to stop breathing?? Man I tried everything, I held my nose in the air, to the side, I stopped breathing, but of course you can't do that for too long. Finally I alternated between not breathing and taking one breath all the while we were surrounded by Nigerians on both sides and trying not to let them see that you think they smell like rancid, mouldy decay! (Ok that was a little strong, but you have to experience it)

I remember looking at Anthony trying to convey with my eyes what my nose was suffering, I knew he was suffering too.

The first thing the customs officer told Anthony was "You must get me a visa!" When he saw his US dip passport. Anthony laughed it off, and said "Man this is my first day here!" to which the customs officer replied , when he heard that it was our first time in Nigeria "You are welcome!". This is apparently a traditional greeting. Every where we went we heard the phrase "You are Welcome!" It's very weird to have some one say that to you when you haven't said thank you. You feel like saying, oops did I forget to thank you for something? But it is said with huge smiles and lots of warmth to all visitors. But all that led to my third lesson, It is very difficult to embarrass the average Nigerian.

It took us nearly 2 hours to claim our baggage, because when Nigerians travel, like all black people, they tend to bring home enough baggage to rival a superstar. We had an arm guard escort us to our temporary home, yes that big gun was quite intimidating, at least to me. The only place I've seen a gun like that was on television. Because we arrived at night it was difficult to see what the countryside was like. But the streets were wide and clean and Quite well made. The roads are a lot better than the ones in Barbados.


There was a lot to do and learn the first week, we had to get some basic food stuff so that meant a supermarket run. Our first time in the supermarket was an eye opener. We had been told to bring as much in terms of food stuff that we could bring but we thought it can't be that bad. We should have listened. For a couple bags of groceries we spent about $350 US. We came out of there shell shocked. We paid about $11 us for an anorexic looking chicken and about $23 For a head of broccoli. We thought we were going to make huge savings in this country, instead realized that our money will be evaporating like water in the nearby Sahara.


I have to talk about driving in Nigeria. But that requires a post of it's own! Sorry I couldn't add any pictures to this one but I will to the next one. All my photos are on my laptop and of course you are not allowed to plug any foreign objects into the embassy computers, they are not allowed to take it! he he.

So next week, Driving in Abuja or "Dear God you mean they really brought that license!!!"

Amsterdam

I cannot think of Amsterdam without thinking about water. My first impression from the plane was that it looked like a huge swamp, neatly plotted into precise squares. It was a shock to us that it was so cold when we got outside the airport. We really only had warm clothes with us. September was already time for winter wear in Amsterdam. We were so exhausted that all we did was sleep for the first day, but the next day we were determined to make the most of it.

We got maps and set out to see the city in the warmest clothes we had. Luckily I had a jacket that I had decided not to ship but to carry with me. Thank god for my dislike of air conditioning!

Amsterdam is lovely, there are a ton of cute little bridges and lots of canals. Everywhere you looked there are people on bicycles.


It was strange to see men and women dressed for work in their nice clothes riding bicycles. In Barbados no one would be caught dead in a suit on a bicycle!
And the bicycles were something else to see! There were a lot of modified bikes, modified to carry things, I saw one guy with the front of his bike made into a carriage with 2 seats, two kids were strapped inside, just out for a ride with dad. I think the bicycles outnumbered the cars.

I was eager to see pot shops (called coffee shops there) and prostitutes, after all this was the place where sex and drugs are jail free. I imagined pot shops to be dark, mysterious and moral freeing, I found them to be noxious smelling and dark and forbidding. We never actually went into any, just stood outside and peeped in surreptitiously. The owners peered back at you with mixed looks of disdain and welcome, like they know something about you, know your secrets. Come in and get wasted, waste your life, I know that what you came here for, I’ve got freedom rolled up in in a spliff, their faces seem to say.

On the streets there were so many dreads, Caucasians with dread locks, badges of belonging, an allowance pass to all the pot you can smoke. I’ve got locks, I’m dedicated so I can smoke all I want and it’s religion. That’s what their hair say. You know because of the looks the give you, because your skin is black and you’ve got dreads too, so there’s guilt mixed with defiance when they look at you. Hey! I don’t owe you an explanations man! Thats what I thought, or maybe I just imagined it all.

So then it was on to a spot of whore ogling! But if I though the pot shops failed my expectations then the displayed prostitutes were even worst. I saw them and I don't know what I was expecting to see, but to me they looked sad, so very sad. They sat on stools or stood staring out the glass cases. They looked to me Like science exhibits of a life gone wrong. Their bodies so scantily clad, spoke volumes about their lives. Some of them had shriveled stomachs, a testament to the child that the had some where.
I’ve seen pictures of this street on TV, of beautiful, slim, curvy women who look at you with sex in their eyes. The women in those glass cases barely meet your eyes and the ones who did had looks of shame, defeat and hope mingling together. Some of them looked away, I think they were the ones who knew we were just peeping into their lives with no intention of crossing the threshold.

What I didn’t expect was that they looked like ordinary women I might know. Ordinary faces with a little too much make-up. A few remember that they were suppose to be enticing us and called out half-hearted stopping when they realize that we were not looking. I felt ashamed. In my mind I compared the fabric of my life to theirs found them wanting and myself lacking at the same time because I could do nothing about their situation and I knew I didn't want to get involved. Silly perhaps to feel that way, but I did.

There was still fun things to do, like Madame Tousante's museum, a ripe opportunity to hobnob with stars without their knowledge, lol.
And the Sex museum! That was amazing! lol At the beginning of the exhibit there is a flasher that jumps you out of your skin and then he flashes you of course! lol. There was all sorts of memorabilia, sculptures and pictures. Very interesting, not for prudes!

We walked all over Amsterdam, it's a very interesting city, so much to see, the buildings are beautiful. We had to be so careful with our money because the euro was high. The diversity of people was amazing. I saw a guy who looked just like Ralph Fiennes in The avengers - top hat, walking stick and all! I wish I could have taken a picture of him. I think there were people from all over the world there.

We were sorry to leave Amsterdam, it would have been nice to explore it more thoroughly. The airport was a bit confusing, but then I find most airports in big cities confusing! lol. A lot of people told me that I would know when I was in the right section of the airport, I would smell the difference they said, but they were wrong, it was on the plane...

Next week Nigeria or What is that smell!!