Day 7

Or so?

My nose is absolutely bright pink from demonstrating solar cookers.  I think that all developing nations are sort of a wash to us, visually and conceptually.  One of the wealthy parents who watched the demonstration today commented that Nigerians don’t need this, they are rich enough to afford wood and kerosene for their stoves.

I was really proud of myself for the way I brought out the objections and got people to feel comfortable speaking their minds about it, so I could address the issues.

I just patiently explained to him that the UN, amongst others, (as in, those who have a Greater World View), realize that the cost of fuelwood will double in the next two years, and will literally increase ten-fold in the next ten years.  I said he could keep the idea in the back of his mind until then.  After which I truly offended him by saying thank-you to everyone in Hausa, and he was Yoruba.   I’d been told many times that everyone speaks English, Hausa, and their village’s language.  Apparently this is highly offensive to Yoruba and Ebo.  Well, I tried.

The people who were intensely interested were the women and all the teachers; they live in the real world, where kerosene is hard to afford.  They all stuck around until the rice cooked.

I’m getting to be very good friends with the Hausa money-changers who camp out all day, every day in a little white thatch-roof hut by the gate to the grounds of our hotel.  The well-guarded gate.  There are four or five men who sell cheap watches, crafts for tourists, pottery, and Nigerian currency.  They all wear white or pastel traditional Hausa outfits, meaning flowing embroidered caftans, pants, and little pillbox hats, and sit together in a hut all day philosophizing and joking.  I think they have a wonderful life.  They are full of smiles and are always thrilled to see me, even though I jog around and around in shorts with an Ipod.  They always talk to me, and they’ve been fervently teaching me Hausa for the last two days.  I can say a lot of things, but I forgot them.

In our final ceremony, the seniors sang us a song and looked sad, and hugged us, and really sincerely sounded like they would miss us.  I thought I would be handing Emmanuel donation money on the sly, he’s been so squirrely about taking money, but he asked me to make a speech and present it today.  I’m becoming quite the speech-maker in English AND Hausa, but I think I looked like a total tool attempting the latter.

Tessa asked to visit a craft market after our farewell ceremony, but Emmanuel and Sunday took us to a leather-works.  Jos is very proud of its leather.

Here, in Africa, there is a direct connection between cute fuzzy goats running around and stylish flip-flops.  As you drive up, you can see the goat-shaped skins swinging in the breeze, and you can hold your nose and speak to the man stripping off fur and tending the dye pits.  Then you can watch the whole shoe-making operation.  It was good fun but I’ve really enjoyed the goats everywhere, they’re sort of like substitute cats for me, so I was too creeped-out to buy anything.  Luckily Emmanuel decided to present us each with a pair of flip-flops as a parting gift, and he gave Tessa a head-to-toe African Lady Outfit.  I had ordered one earlier this week to wear around and give slide shows, so that I can look like a tool on my own continent as well.  But I really love it.  I feel like a total princess in it, it’s full length, well-fitted, and I look excellent in an enormous rainbow turban.  I think I’ll wear it to really normal places, like Seven-Eleven, when I get home, just to embarrass everyone who knows me.

The goats here are not penned-in, because they go home every night like dogs.

I was also presented with an enormous outfit For my Husband, so I’m going to have to be especially creative at sneaking back money to Emmanuel.  My husband is a size four, three of her could fit in it.  Perhaps it could be used as co-pajamas, or for sack races; one person per leg.  And we got some lovely furry goat-skin flip-flops for any Mount Madonna faculty member, where they are so very into animal cruelty.  Seriously, it was all such a beautiful, gentle, loving gesture on his part.  It’s impossible for them to understand our reverence for animals at this point, but we’ll get there.  It makes me wonder how much we don’t understand about them.

Emmanuel and I talked for what seemed like hours at the Jos museum.  I just leave every long conversation filled with amazement.  It started by looking at the masks together.  He began to tell me about the New Yam festival in his village in Benoit State.  No one may eat the first yams of the new harvest each year until masks are brought out, sacrifices are performed, and the chief has the first plate.  The entire village takes their meals from the same bowl, and the elders eat first.  All these superstitions and traditions are well alive in the villages.  I talked about cultural extinction and how I think lessons from these types of traditions and ancient religions are how Africa could really make its mark on world thought, and he assured me that the entire values curriculum he’s publishing in August is from ancient tribal traditions.  He’s so cool; most Africans I’ve met really don’t appreciate what they have in their cultural heritage.

Then we found a beautiful carved Mancala game by a catfish pond in a Roman-style mud hut in the back; it was like a courtyard with a reflecting pool in the middle.  The guard had stocked the artistic game board with seeds and I learned how to truly play it African-style for the first time; the language barrier always got in my way on the last trip.  What fun!  It’s the most mathematical game I’ve ever played, and I’m going to be sure to have it in my classroom.  Emmanuel showed me all the museum art that was from his tribe, and the guard did the same.

Outside the museum was a huge African wedding.  The bride and groom sat in wrought-metal thrones under a tent, and hundreds of Africans in the most colorful finery imagineable were milling around chatting.  There was a line of at least 60 people both for the bride and the groom.  They were each holding a gift.  At African weddings, each guest personally presents their gifts to the couple.  I stood there taking pictures of everyone, because no one seemed to mind, then raindrops came and everyone left.

There is a girl at the school, and orphan adopted by one of the school families, who has an enormous growth on her head above her eye.  The teacher took her up to the assembly at the front of the school on Friday morning and told the students they all had to help her.  Then Emmanuel told all the rich parents who attended the solar cooker demonstration today that they had to help her.  Basically, the entire community has raised 500,000 Naira, or $450, to send her to the hospital for an operation next week.  It’s really incredible, and I think we need to follow that example at our school and in the US in general.  If someone in your community has a problem, it’s your problem too, no compromising.

In his closing speech to the community, Emmanuel said that if you cut off a cow’s tail, it doesn’t know it’s missing until flies show up and it has nothing to swat them with.  In the same way, he said, they will begin to feel the many impacts of our week here after we go, and over the all the years of the lives of the students.  I like my work being compared to a mangled cow’s butt, it’s something I can easily believe in.

Seriously, the Home-School Forum, or PTA head, gave a speech, the principal (Victor) gave a speech, Bishop the Chemistry teacher gave a speech, a student gave a speech, and even Tessa gave a speech.  They all made me teary.  I kind of do believe there may be something in the web we wove that may turn into a beautiful cloth in the future.  Just to go analogy-crazy, I’ll say I want to come back in a while and see the tree that grew from the seeds we helped germinate.  Not plant, they were already there.  We modeled and taught and dialogued modernized teaching techniques, dialogue in general, Montessori, classroom design, networking computers, curriculum, solar cooking, practical lab skills, and most of all, non-violence.  We brought laptops, educational manipulatives and toys, Montessori lessons, electronic equipment, textbooks, posters, maps, globes, books for all ages, movies, letters, cookers, and more love than you can imagine.  I love giving, it’s the best thing in the world.

And of course the night ended with another hysterical and interesting dinner conversation.  I’m really going to miss eating every meal with AJ, Emily and Tessa.  The fact that the restaurant takes an hour and a half to bring you coffee has really forged new friendships for me, even though I’m older than dirt compared to all of them.

Here is The Movie List:

The Most Well-Crafted Films of All Time

City of God, Love Me if You Dare, The Boat Movie (ask Melissa), Friday Night Lights, The Motorcycle Diaries, 9 (Fellini), There Will be Blood, Like Water for Chocolate

Movies that Made You Laugh the Hardest When You Saw Them, Even if They Seem Stupid Now

Austin Powers II, Anchorman, The Big Lebowski, Juno, Surfs’ Up, A Night at the Opera

Best Sick Day Movies (Comfort Movies)

Pretty Woman, Oceans’ 11, Garden State, The Philadelphia Story, Clear and Present Danger

Worst Movies Ever

Brazil, Ironman, Battlefield Earth (the story of Scientology with John Travolta), Total Recall

Movies You Just Have to See

A Love Song for Bobby Long, Swimming Pool, The Revolution Will Not Be Televised, Dog Town and Z-Boys

I really missed T today.  I climbed the highest hill and looked west, and wrapped my arms around her.  I miss my little baby boy so much.

And I miss raw veggies and brewed coffee.  I’m making a beeline for the expresso bar in Amsterdam, it’s right next to the gate.

Tomorrow will be our first unstructured day.  I’m going to walk around on the streets and see if someone picks my pocket or calls me an infidel.  No, really, I’m not, we’re supposed to go to another waterfall, but we may just sit by the pool.  We DO get to sleep in, if the goats and the yak in the air conditioner will allow it.

We watched Pimp My Ride in the lounge in Nigeria, with Arabic subtitles and commercials.  I never considered what effect this type of schlock might have on the developing world, who appears to be imitating America’s every communication, around here.  Altho I admit I like the ebonics AND the flames painted all over the old cars.

Monday we’re meeting with Teachers Without Boarders and US Embassy personnel some other high-ups in Abuja, to try and figure out getting a container here full of textbooks and lab supplies.  Suitcases are inefficient.

Oh, and they named the lab at school the Mount Madonna Science Lab.  And the computer room/library is the Mount Madonna IT Center And Library, although I said it should be the John Frediani Technology Center.

Peace and Love,

Lisa, 3:53 Santa Cruz time 11:53 Jos, Nigeria May 23 2008 or so