Here's one fellow oyibo, Stephanie, at the emir's palace in Kano. I really like the expressions on the faces of the emir's peeps. (They follow him everywhere, making this wonderfully trilling, singsongy, noise, which I since have learned is essentially them saying: "Emir! You are so great! You are looking good!" Also, directing him, left, right, forward, turn ... from his vehicle to his throne, a trip he's surely made a few zillion times. He doesn't have to think about such minor things as walking or turning. Emir, you da man.)
Wide awake at 3 a.m. It'll take me a few days to get back on Nebraska time. I'm both happy and sad to be home. The whole thing is still so overwhelming. Weird to be in my own bed and having to pick up my own towels. Weird to be drinking tap water and breathing clean air; weird not to be surrounded by people and cars and noise and filth and exuberance. Weird not to be squired about in a tour bus.
Here are some Femi Kuti clips on YouTube -- a glimpse of the dynamic show he puts on. "Truth is Dead" is a particularly good one. Really, though, you have to get to the African Shrine in Lagos on a Sunday night and experience the whole scene for yourself.
And here's another good article on Nigeria and the oil situation, from this month's National Geographic.
For those of you who've asked, I'm gratefully unaware of any video proof of my appearance (with two others) on "Ka Kaa Ki/The African Voice," the morning talk show in Nigeria. Apparently we created no international incidents. I came off like a deer in the headlights -- my general performance anxiety increased by the fear of saying something wrong. Apparently, I did take the host aback; he asked what I thought of President Obasanjo's press conference with us, and I basically said he talked a lot but didn't really say anything.
But we continued, in the last days of our trip, to have to fend off suggestions that we'd come at the invitation of the sitting president. Newspapers in Nigeria even now are continuing to write, quite inaccurately, about our visit. This is one of the worst I've seen. Instructive to be on the other side of the journalistic lens and see how easy it is to get things wrong. Also to remember that, like the democracy itself, an independent and free Nigerian media is still a fledgling that must be encouraged.
On our last day, Kari, Meghan, Bill and I commandeered a taxi and went to Lekki market for some gifts and souvenirs. Thanks to Kari, I found a beautiful piece of Kuba cloth, which isn't really Nigerian, but beautiful and definitely says "this came from Africa." This was a working craft market, with soapstone and wood carvers who didn't mind having their photos taken -- and didn't ask us to pay for the privilege.
This guy, an elder at the Islamic school we visited really liked my black/white outfit ($3 Old Navy "pashmina" self-styled as a hijab). He was urging me to wear it when I returned home. Would I? "Um, it's kind of hot," I said. He thought that was hilarious. I was serious.
Worst thing I packed: So many long skirts/long-sleeved tops. Only needed them for our day and a half in the Muslim north -- and likely not even then. Took up way too much suitcase space.
Best thing I packed: A dozen Luna bars. They saved me -- I knew I had at least one MRE for every day we were there. It being such a poor country, I'd expected most dishes to be meatless. I was wrong.
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I vacillate between being eager to start writing my pieces ... and dreading it. The more I learned while we were there, the less qualified I feel to explain it all. But just keep it simple and bring it back to why Nebraskans should care. I think I can do that.
There's so much more I wanted to blog about, as well. Maybe I'll continue to add the occasional post, as memories resurface.
For those of you priviliged to know the url, you also may return to our regularly scheduled blog.
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