Nigerian Cultural Day

The school celebrated Nigerian Culture Day in celebration of the 47th Independence Day for Nigeria. Every teacher, student, parent and worker has to dress in traditional Nigerian dress and the entire school day is dedicated to learning about and participating in different cultural activities.

These are a few of my students posing for the camera in their traditional dress. Notice that it’s mostly the type of fabric used and not necessarily the pattern for the majority of the school.











I spent most of the day in my room teaching clay mini courses. The classes I had created Ibo Spirit Masks and Shrine Figures.




This is one of my example masks. They are actually celebrated in Ibo culture as spirits. Since the Ibo culture believes in reincarnation, these figures are very mysterious and not to be mocked. My students unfortunately only had 30 minutes to create theirs, and so the results were less than fantastic but everyone seemed to have a good time anyway.





























When I was allowed to escape, I was able to take some great shots of the 'village' built in the courtyard and some of my fellow teachers in their outfits.
In the middle of the school courtyard a mock Ibo village was made. The workers started late in the afternoon the day before and built everything from scratch.


























During the actual culture day, the entire school gathered around the courtyard and watched traditional dance, a day in the life of a village and distinguished speakers from the community.
























The school band played Nigerian music and the National Anthem. I had no idea so many of the kids would know all the words and be able to belt them all out like they did. Then Josie burst my bubble and said that the kids had probably been practicing in music. It was still an impressive sight. This is a particularly bad angle but the only one I could get in my spot...three stories up.














In the middle of the village was the goat in the tiny little shed. This however is inaccurate since it’s evident around the city that goats roam free. It’s hard to see, but this goat also shared with two chickens. Also a falsehood, if the city of Lagos is to be believed. The livestock in the city is as free as Wyoming. For free range meat, it aint all that good. And yes, that does mean I have eaten goat. Not bad, but tough as all get out. Speaking of killing livestock, part of the traditional Ibo war dance involved throwing a live chicken around all over. Kids were bawling as they saw this tied chicken being flung into the air and plummeting down, smacking into whatever it landed on. I am pretty sure the chicken was to die anyway, but the broken wings, flying feathers and pitiful squawks make for a telltale memory.









A ton of adults showed up for the event as well. Most just mingled around and got in the way. I actually got really upset when one of my students had to baby-sit her 2-year-old sister in my class because her mom left to shop at the mock Lekki Market that the school set up for the kids. Yeah, she left her daughter to baby-sit in class while she took advantage of the deals. Sick. But it’s the yuppie culture here among the expats.











Unfortunately, my camera died about an hour into the day. However, Josie, my amazing assistant for the day, was able to capture the rest on her camera.

I will post more pictures when Josie gets them to me. There are some awesome pics of dancing, re-enactments and more gorgeous pictures of me! But you are going to have to wait until the sequel.

A full month in Africa!

After a full month in Africa, my life has begun to settle down. I am in my own flat, and though I dont yet have a steward, I keep getting asked out to do things. So my food situation is just fine. Classes are all fabulous!



I have yet to find a project that these kids wont do and be excited about. Sixth grade is making cartoon strips, 7-8 grade are creating monsters and I am planning a bead making class for Nigerian Culture Day. My art club is meeting twice a week to plan out and decorate my room to look like an Ibo village.

The other day, as I was walking out of the flat, I noticed a leaf stuck in a spider web on the wall. I was about to pass when I paused. I knew that the spider webs here are not strong enough to hold a leaf the size of this one. I moved closer and still just stared at it.



Unfortunately, my vision isnt the greatest and it took me a couple more feet closer and a few minutes of staring to realize I was looking at a praying mantis. I whipped out my camera and took a few shots. When the flash went off, the little guy turned and looked at me; then blinked. So much attitude in such a little gesture.

Another teacher and I are planning on creating our own children's books. I am excited, because while I can draw anything....I cant come up with stories. Pagia, however, has the opposite problem. We are hoping to have at least two done by Christmas, so that they can be printed and distributed to students for a present. I am not sure how to manage that, unless its printed via email to the US and I pick it up when I get home.

I had a small accident yesterday morning when I dropped my macbook onto my foot. It still stings something awful and is very pretty colors. Its so massive that I could even make kids draw it to learn their color wheel.

Finally, my own flat!

After being homeless for a month, living through a high school's worth of drama and flighty emotions, and enduring massive confusion, I have been offered my very own flat. Yes, this barren wasteland is mine.





It took me two days to clean it and, sadly enough, only about an hour to unpack all I own. I am priding myself on having no bugs anywhere. Seriously have an aversion thing going with bugs. So I spent a ton of time cleaning, spraying for bugs and generally being OCD about watching out for any potential hiding places. I thought I was doing good. Then I saw a cockroach disappear into the floor crack by the bathtub last night. It now has an amazing amount of highly fragrant bug spray surrounding the entire area. He is either already dead or close to it.





I am all moved in, but have nothing to put on the walls, watch my non-existing cable (we keep hearing that the installation is only a week away...for three weeks now), or cook my imaginary food in. I hope to go shopping with Roy and Josie this weekend to buy the most immediate needs.







We all know I will find great satisfaction in decorating the walls and space, especially since I was planning on doing that anyway.

Advances Art Project Pictures

While my personal life may have been a bit rocky these past weeks, my job is fantastic. I get to work with 70-odd students who are interesting and for the most part, respectful. I get to mess with them, joke with them, use sarcasm and be strict all in five minutes. Its always an amazing roller coaster and I look forward to coming to work each day. I decided to take some pictures of some of my advanced class and their artwork so I can show you all how and what I am doing at work.






The last project was to draw a piece of popcorn using only shading. Then to visually separate that piece of popcorn, creating another subject matter from the same shape. As promised to my class, I never assign a project that I wont do. So this example is the one I did in the same time period as my students. I think I was outclassed in some cases. My students did brilliantly.










































I am really excited about the current project called, Elements. Its a real challenge and while most of my students are grumbling about the difficulty, all are coming up with deep and meaningful symbols, pictures, and personal references for the four elements. They are required to personify fire, water, earth, and wind in a visual representation. I really like some of the ideas being produced right now. Soon, I will push them even farther by involving cultural, humanistic and interpersonal story lines and let them create from there.

The journey to church

The journey to church is hazardous and slightly entertaining. It is no small feat to traverse the scarred and beaten lands on a holy mission....wait....forget that. It’s just a weird trip, ok? I decided to walk you all through it, and have added multiple pictures to appease my mother and her bragging tendencies.

Church starts at 9am, which means we leave at 7am. Why? Because traffic is unpredictable and the roads are even worse.



I took these series of pictures on the way to church the Sunday before last. This particular one is an Okada; A motorcycle turned taxi. I have seen as many as four people on one scooter, not including children.

These taxis are amazing and scary. Very often they come within scant inches of the car and are very....vocal...about their desire to move in front of your vehicle and what they think about you, your family, and your awebo skin as they squeeze into impossible places between cars. Yes, I do know naughty words in three different Nigerian dialects, thank you.



The worst part of the trip is by far the actual road that the church is on. It’s a massive pothole infestation. Technically, I don’t think its even is a road anymore; its more like separate little communities of canyons and lakes. On the sides of the roads are piles of garbage.

These piles will continue to grow until finally they will be lit on fire to make room for more piles. The best is when the chickens roam aimlessly over the rotting heaps in search of food. These holes are at least a foot deep and usually larger than the car that we are in.
















On the way to church there are exciting venues to see. Such as the Okada station, where men of all ages and, um, hygiene levels, gossip and fix their scooters. Among others are such gems as this....the local electronics store.








Of course, there are many very large buildings that appear empty. Please do not be fooled. Many have huge signs such as this one, warning that this prime real estate is definitely NOT for sale.





This beauty of a market is the meat market. No, Mom, they don’t refrigerate their meat. In fact, I couldn’t even hazard a guess as to what kind of meat this is. The sellers are lovely and are very kind, but I don’t think I will be purchasing my meat from this market any time soon.






















Getting closer to the actual church are scary little alleyways that lead down to the slums of Lekki. I was either too afraid or too sensitive to photograph the Nigerian people living in this type of squalor but I can paint a picture clearly enough to satisfy the craving for visual imagery. The one lane road is paved in cobblestones and around 7-10 feet wide. On either side of the lane are two feet deep ditches for all sewer related functions. There is no water flow and so the ditches stay stagnant with their excrement and food wastes. In the monsoons, all of the ditches flood into the streets and houses. You can see why malaria is so prevalent in this environment. Next to the ditches are the plywood lean-tos that make up the entire housing communities. There is one community faucet for contaminated water, which the residents carry buckets to go and fetch water. There is no power and no privacy. Since the unemployment rate of Lagos is around 70%, there are also always people milling about.



When we finally arrive at the church building I am exhausted from the drive over. I am not the one driving, mind you, but the rollercoaster ride combined with the heart wrenching poverty is enough to make me want to crawl back into bed and forget how unequal my situation is to theirs and how much I never want to be in their situation. I always feel selfish and gluttonous after the trip to church.

But the church is not a vacation spot itself. The building is an old empty house that is rented. It has no power or water and the doors are always open to create the illusion of a non-existent wind. I get the worst bug bites when I am at sacrament meeting.

This is the outside of the church wall. It’s a non-descript building on a side street leading to nothing.












After you enter through the front gate, the building looks impressive. It would most likely be lovely if it had been maintained.









Stepping inside you have rows of chairs facing the front window. This is our sacrament room. The podium does have a microphone but since the generator does not work and Nigerians are soft spoken by nature, I usually make up my own services. They are entertaining and help take my mind off of the heat and bugs. One huge benefit is the fans that are sold at Lekki market. They are made of light straw and are huge. More than enough oomph to keep a breeze on your face, at least.










My favorite part of the church, however, is the font outside in the back yard. There is no grass, just dirt outside of the door until the wall surrounding the entire property. I found a certain irony in the razor wire on the decrepit wall on the other side of an otherwise beautiful font. (I also quickly found the difference between razor wire and barbed wire....there are definite gruesome characteristics to razor wire)




At the end of church services at around 12:10 pm, I am hot, aggravated and ready to go home. Unfortunately, the friends that I catch a ride with have meetings and commitments at the church until around 1:15. This is the painful time when single Nigerian men find it expedient to hit on me. I know I am not special, or charming or even particularly dazzling in looks....but you wouldn’t know it by the attention I receive between 12:10 and 1:15 on Sunday afternoons. It would be flattering if the men in question weren’t so aggressive. Instead, I begin to feel dirty on the inside as well as the outside. (Especially after that 3-year old boy peed on me my second Sunday, but that is a different story altogether and could take an entire blog to explain)

So the moral of the story is to be patient, thankful and to wear a wedding ring all the time.

I want a hug

This week has been really hard....my roof falling in, no flat yet, all sorts of new and really time-consuming work. It’s just overwhelming. But let me start from the beginning. Buckle up, little campers, its time for 'Julia's venting session.'

When I was hired, I was promised the spectacular advantages of a new high school. My own room, designed and supplied by myself was one of the main perks to accepting the job. Now, however, the high school won’t be finished for another year and a half. Which means that not only will we have more kids to teach next year, but also we will be forced to do it with less space and time. Excuse? There really is no reason for the delay. In fact, they haven’t even broken ground on the 40-acre campus. Their plan is to move all the high school people to the flats in the new school first, before the school is finished. Which means, of course, that we will need to commute from the new flats to the current school and back each day. Without traffic, the commute is 20 minutes. With traffic it can take 5 hours and yes, we will be hitting rush hour each
way.

In order to alleviate the current housing crunch (I am homeless and another teacher is supposed to be living alone, but has no apartment available), off campus housing is being sought. This all could have been handled last June, but I digress.
The school board went to see apartments today and the results were laughable. No security, unfinished and unfurnished. It is also in the middle of nowhere and would take up to a month to finish anyway. I don’t want to sleep on a couch for a month.

Then, Carrie, who is supposed to be my roommate, is trying to write a contract for her steward (who is amazingly expensive) but wont know whether to include me in it or not. She is stressed about it and I am feeling like nothing but a huge inconvenience.

The secretary of finances pulled me aside yesterday and explained that I was being demoted two full steps on the pay schedule because she and Tom had a conversation about reconfiguring the credit allowance in schools. Unfortunately, I may have no recourse since they still have not let me sign a contract. You can see how this situation could become very negative. The school flies you out here, without a contract, and then you may have to settle with whatever they hand you because you are already here. I know that the administration isn’t intending to make it this way, but you and I can see how easily corruptible this system is.

My room still isn’t fixed, although I did get this spectacular banner outside my door.
Look on the bright side, right? I have also been told that I am now in charge of creating an entire curriculum, supplies, room and schedule for 9-12 grades for a meeting in November. The job is huge and no one can tell me anything until I go to the week long training sometime next year. They will continue to expect the information in November, however.

I also keep getting volunteered for committees but not told about it. I am apparently on the 'flat committee’, which is created to buy and furnish old or unmatching furniture for each of the flats. It’s a nice interior decorating opportunity. I am boycotting that one until I get my own freaking flat.
Then there are the after school clubs, fun days, and registrations that I am told about the day before or even the hour before I am meant to direct something.

So the stress is starting to trigger my next episode of health concerns, which are always aggravated by stress. This current bout is gaining enough strength to be a disaster in the making. I just keeping making it worse because I know it am all in my head and so now I feel weak and pathetic on top of it all.

I know I will survive. Things will work out and get better. It’s hard is all.



I keep trying to stay optimistic by going down to the kindergarten classroom. Aren’t these little buggers cute?!
And then there are my two advanced classes, which show amazing potential.