The Tower

So my classroom is a ghetto pile. In fact, I even refer to it as The Tower (as in the Tower of London). In fact, all day today had an overwhelming stench of bug spray because I complained of the 3.5 inch cockroaches....while the kids complained at first....strangely after about fifteen minutes they were all giggles.

But back to the room itself. It has nasty blue carpet that is pieced together but not stretched or nailed down. I have puke yellow book cabinets, which offset the shaded blue cupboards nicely, note sarcasm here. The walls are barren because they are solid cinderblocks and impossible to hang anything from. None of the cupboards close and everything has a dirty old apartment look to them. However, the greatest disaster of the room is the ceiling. Giant tiles around 4 feet by 3.5 feet make up the majority of the ceiling with dangling florescent bulbs.



When I first saw the room three weeks ago, I asked maintenance to fix the dangerously hanging water damaged ceiling tiles in the middle of the room. The response (as evident the next morning) was to simply remove the offending tiles and let the cement; insulation and bending pipes hang for all to see. The tile, of course, was not removed from the room but placed in the middle of the floor. Since that time I have added three more written requests as well as several mentions to both the superintendent and my principle....who also put in written requests.



To make a long story more interesting, today in third period art class a large chunk of cement and insulation finally gave way and came crashing down. Incredibly, the one seat and section that the materials fell on was uncharacteristically empty. No one was hurt. I was freaked out (though no students could tell...oh yeah, I totally did the "Shake it off" bit) and had to notify maintenance right away. I then had to evacuate the area and move all of my kids around. Then I had to find a place to have class for the rest of the day. Library ended up being booked and we have a shortage of classes anyway. So I went and pleaded my case to the elementary art teacher (who is wonderful) if I could use that incredible art room which I first thought was mine. So with 23 junior high kids on one side of the room and 21 third graders on the other, we taught our lessons.

The maintenance guys were able to tack the tile back up to the ceiling but I have no confidence in the environment anymore. Yeah, I am demanding an entire new roof and asking for the carpet to be replaced with tile while I am at it. I expect it will move like molasses but at least I have something to look forward to.

I already convinced my principle to let me have the kids paint all of the walls and cupboards. I think I will go with a universal jungle/water/space theme. Hopefully, by Christmas the room will look respectable. I can’t say the same for my kids' artwork...but one thing at a time. Got to focus on the priorities.

So this weekend I had a much-needed escape from the compound. I spent the entire weekend chilling with Josie and Roy. Who are they, you might ask? Well, they are the fabulous expats that I have adopted as my own.

Expats, in case you are unfamiliar with the term, are expatriates; people who live in a foreign country for work purposes and tend to be very mobile. Yes, dear friends, I am an expat. Anyway, the term expat here generally refers to awebos, or "skinless people". We prefer pigmentally challenged.

The view from Josie and Roy's flat. Yes, they are spoiled.



This weekend was filled with chick flick nights, cookies, cartoon watching, lemonade, hot cocoa, donuts, Lekki Market shopping, video games and, of course, church.






It was fabulous, not only to be in a bug free environment....


Notice my little friend who appeared in my entryway on Friday.....but it also was a chance to feel normal and non-minority-ish.

I am more affirmative in my belief of multicultural education more than ever. To feel alone, misunderstood or lesser in any way is horrible. I know that many in the States feel that Hispanic speakers need to adapt to "American" life, but after a brief two weeks, I am fully sympathetic to their needs.

Rain....and a bug!

The pool at AISL


So I finally got to see the rain. Yes....I realize I am from Seattle but Seattle rain/mist has nothing on the monsoon action in Nigeria. I even paused class to stop and stare at the wall of water pounding the school.

Ok, side note. I am in my classroom right now, writing my blog and minding my own business when something tickles my foot. This happens alot and when my bug paranoia forces me to check, there is never anything there. Yeah, not this time. A lovely 3-inch cockroach just waddled across my naked foot. Oh, help me now! I had to scoop it up and put it outside and it barely fit into the cup I used to carry it. Such is my life in Lagos.

But anyway, the rain causes massive traffic jams because the dirt roads begin to resemble the eight-lake area. Potholes two inches to three feet deep are all that the road consists of. Imagine hundreds of cars; no laws and no road signs create the biggest traffic stop EVER! Its scary because the small little motorcycles (they are only 110 cc, Dad) are weaving in and out of traffic while everyone else is slowly eeking forward. To give some perspective...the most common situation is a two-lane dirt road with three rows of cars going one way. Everyone is stopped and trying to curve one way or another to avoid the potholes. The cars are so close to each other that you can reach out your window and touch the car next to you without your watch leaving the car. The drivers here are amazingly accurate and amazingly crazy.

I am still freaking out about the bug and need to go teach class now. Ugh.....work.

First Sunday of church

I had my first day of church today! So I had called church headquarters in SLC to get the ward details, Bishop and number of my new ward and was prepared to track down whomever I needed to and get a ride to church. I called Bishop Ekpo on Wednesday but he was heading out to travel to the Nigerian Temple and wouldn’t be back until Saturday night. He actually came and picked me up at 6:30 AM on Sunday and brought me back to his family's flat to wait while they got ready for church. No, I have no idea why it worked out that way but I was so grateful for the ride that I refused to be disconcerted. His family lives only about four streets from me but the housing is as different as night and day. Bishop Ekpo (who was actually released as Bishop six weeks ago) lives in a small flat with his wife and two children. When I say small, please understand that I honestly do mean flat. In order to understand, I am not going to exaggerate at all. His entire flat consisted of a one room 15 foot by 10 foot. It had a small fridge, mini-freezer, bookcase with TV and all toiletries, food, and cookware. The far end of the room had a queen size bed that was jammed between the walls and another bookcase, which held the entire family's wardrobe. I sat on a tiny bench seat between the door and the bed and read scriptures while the small family got ready for church. I started to cry, looking at my surroundings and listening to Sister Ekpo talk about what a blessing she had in traveling by bus for three days to see the temple. We are always told how blessed we are, but when the reality hits you, its hard to keep your pride in the face of such humility.
Bishop, six kids and I crammed into an ancient Toyota and drove to church. We had to go through the slums in order to bypass the horrible road that the church is on. The rains come and wash the dirt roads until they resemble giant ponds among huts of peddlers. I met a lot of people and actually made fast friends with another ex-pat couple who are here working for Conoco Philips.
I pray that I will always be able to picture sweet Sister Ekpo in my mind when I think I have a challenge in circumstance.

By small things....

I ran into the Elders at Lekki market today. Woo hoo! The Church is true!!!!

Adjusting to Lagos

Ah, yes, the terrifying aspects of Africa. Having been here a week has afforded me the opportunities to experience the fantastic and creepy happenings of Nigeria. This, for example is a common scene of electronic wizardry.

Is it any wonder that we loose power at least 3 times a day?

I have been to the GQ twice and it’s nice to have a place to go where everyone is from the US. The GQ is a commissary for US residents only. When I had first heard about people who only wanted to associate with other Americans when in foreign posts, I mocked them for their insecurities. However, the more I live as the foreign minority the more I realize how nice it is to spend time with people who grew up eating the same food, speaking the same slang and who had cravings for the same comforts. Last night at the GQ was Tex-Mex buffet night. The place was packed! It was so much fun to sit with people whom you would never normally feel a connection with and be able to speak uncensored. As far as the terrifying aspects.....traffic here is something out of a sci-fi movie. Garbage, street peddlers and kudukos, or motorcycle taxis, are the most common things here. This is a picture of Bar Beach, which is a common beach with a booming commerce of black market supplies. There is a lot of garbage everywhere and even the police have learned to steer clear.





Then there is the road construction. This is a shot of the busy main street that we were driving on a couple of blocks from the school. If you notice, we are heading directly into the oncoming vehicle.
Amazingly, this didn’t even slow down our driver, or the two kudukos riding on either side of us. It got to a certain point when I just shut my eyes and start to pray.

Meanwhile, back at home, I was moved into a different flat to accommodate a guest teacher. I wasn’t asked, or even told....I was called ten minutes before hand as a courtesy to see if I was packed yet. The communication is still a little rough around the edges here at AISL. Now I am back in the original flat, where I get to stay until its owners return to Lagos. I have yet to find a permanent home.

School was a huge embarrassment. I was given keys and a room number and assumed it was mine. It was an art room, large, spacious and fully stocked. It may not have had all the materials I needed but it has two pottery wheels, two kilns and more storage than I can fill. I worked for nearly a week to figure out how to clean, organize and plan for my first day. Yes, this room is beautiful. It’s also not my room. Its the elementary school teacher's.
Yesterday, a very nice teaching assistant named Andrew was sitting and organizing what I thought was my own room. He quickly corrected me and directed me to a room a fifth of the size, with no storage space and carpeted floors. In fact, the only way I knew it wasn’t a utility room was the sink in the back and the white board in front. There was also a freighter of unopened supplies sitting in the middle. To make a very long story short, it took until today to clean, organize and settle the new room. Good thing too, cause school starts on Monday. I also have no curriculum. That’s right, boys and girls. The last art teacher bought a full set of art books straight from the catalogue and called it good. So not only did I have to spend the past week fixing my room, but also writing the entire course syllabus for all four courses, creating a homework scale for the next week and creating a curriculum for each class. Hey, it’s my job right?

Oh, and I think Swampy might just have to die. Annoying little piece of...

My temporary roomate

As I am staying in someone else’s flat, I also inherit the odd things about the couple's life. For example, the current residents of my flat have an African Grey parrot. These birds are known for their intelligence and vocabulary. At first, I was really enamored of good ol' Swampy. That is until I discovered his tendency to wake up at exactly the same time every morning. Yes, that’s right, I know have my very own bird alarm clock with special catch phrases. Actually, Swampy is a hoot (no pun intended) and has some amazing things to say. Some of my favorites are his whistles, which vary from construction site wolf calls to very pretty musical numbers. He also says, "yabba-dabba-do!!!" "Wazzup?!" and some random African dialects.

The only time he has scared me was when I thought he was asleep for the night. I was heading off to bed myself and was not expecting someone from the living room to yell, "Hey, HEY!" in a deep baritone. Oh yes, boys and girls, I was petrified until I realized that I had locked my front door and that there was no way another person would be there that late at night. Swampy got an earful, of that you can be sure.

On other news, the water pipe for my flat building burst late yesterday afternoon. We had no water until 4pm today. Getting enough hot water for a shower when everyone else is rushing to do the same doesn’t look promising, but at least I can flush the toilet without the pipes sounding like WWIII.

I also got the first peak at my classroom. The space is huge but unorganized as all get out. I have an entire freighter worth of supplies dumped into the middle of the classroom and everything else is in disarray. I figure I have the first part of the school week to kinda set things up and label things. After that I kinda have to start teaching. Scary, its true, but they pay me for it. Actually, I got into a debate with the middle school counselor from Australia. He told me that my class load was five courses (four classes have 20 students each and then the advanced has 5 students) I get two prep periods a day and will most likely have an art club twice a week. Talk about a cushy job. My counselor said that if I ever start to complain about the stress that he would physically remove me from his office. So much for unconditional love.

Travel to Nigeria

Finally, after two weeks of packing, endless hours shopping, $1200 of inoculations and more paper work than it takes to make a small country, I am in Nigeria. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Mom and Pop dropped me off at the SEATAC airport at around 10:45 am on August 10. While Mom seemed more nervous than I was to be making the journey, Dad was excited for me and alot of their enthusiasm kept me energized for the trip. After waiting in line for a while, I sat at my gate and read the second book in the Twilight series. That series alone kept me sane through the rest of the exhausting day. After two and a half hours, or so, they let us board the plane. I didn’t get the window seat I was hoping for but it ended up being a good thing. I don’t remember drinking that much water but apparently I had.

The flight was 9 and a half hours long and was beautiful. I loved the plane and was actually sitting in the very last row. I was paranoid that my seat would be up against the wall and I wouldn’t be able to recline. However, instead I had the emergency exit behind me and actually had more room than everyone else. I had more storage space as well. Around 6 hours into the flight I realized we were flying over Greenland. Its amazing! The glaciers were huge and the backdrop was a constant river of ice. I know that the picture doesn’t do it justice (I blame the fact that I had to lean over a poor sleeping woman to even get the shot) but its one of the most incredible natural landscapes I have ever seen.

Shortly after this I watched the sunrise over England. I don’t ever recall just sitting and watching a full sunrise before. I can never sit still long enough and now that I truly have experienced this event...I wont ever have to do it again, right?

I arrived in Amsterdam at 7:30am on Saturday. I had no idea where to go or what to do. Thankfully, due to my astounding deductive powers and the plethora of signs written in English, I found where I needed to go. An entire booth titled "transfers" was clogged with travelers from all over the world. I waited in line for over an hour only to be told by the very kind woman at the window that my boarding pass was complete and with all of my other paperwork. Boy did I feel silly. Not as silly as the woman in the window wearing an entire baby blue uniform with matching hat.....but silly just the same. I then spent the next 6 unending hours sitting and waiting for my flight. I contemplated traveling around the city for a few hours until I saw the lines going to customs. Insane amounts of people were trying to cram into two little booths to get out of the airport and the last thing I wanted to do was get stuck in that, then get stuck trying to come back and end up missing my flight. Oh, come on.....you know me....I would totally get stuck.

So I waited. I wandered through shopping sections and even stopped for lunch. I found an ice cream shop with the best chocolate and toppings that I have ever seen. But finally I decided that I really couldn’t buy anything worthy of interest and headed to my boarding gate. Now my estimable roommate, Suzanne, had once warned me that they board flights really early in Amsterdam and to be ready to go a few hours ahead of schedule. I took her up on her advice and though it was only 10:30am and my flight didn’t leave until 1:10 pm, I went and stood in the boarding line. The line was unbelievable and so I checked the automated boarding screen at the gate to make sure my flight information was on it. Yup, all there. I went into the line and began the slow migration toward yet another security posting. At this point I felt like a pack mule because of my overweight backpack. An hour later I get to the front of the line where I go through security without a problem. That is, until I get to the lady checking passports and tickets. That kind lady (less silly uniform....and less kind, now that I think on it) told me that they wouldn’t be boarding my flight for another two hours and then (very loudly) announced that I needed to walk the wrong way through security and wait in the uncomfortable seats just outside the checkpoint area. Well, she didn’t call the seats uncomfortable but everyone knows the truth. This was only the beginning to the worst flight ever.

It takes too long to describe each element of this painful trip, and I don’t want to sound whiney, so instead I will summarize: middle seat between two very large Nigerian men, no cabin space for my oversized pack which found itself in my foot space for the 7 hour flight, yelling kids behind me, a woman who reclined her seat to the max in front of me, no air conditioning, one bathroom for 80 rows of 10 seats and only two flight attendants. Oh yes....this trip was horrific. But it did finally end and off I went to customs.

By this point I had joined with a handful of other AISL teachers exhausted from trips of their own. We followed the crowds down a broken escalator to the customs and baggage claim area. Another hour of standing in line. However, there was light at the end of the tunnel.....I got my stamp and rushed out to get my luggage. And so did everyone else. It took two hours for my luggage to appear and another hour to drive to the school.

I still don’t have my own flat so I am staying at a very nice couple's flat for a few days until everything is figured out. As you can see, the flat is beautiful and I was really excited to have a shower and nice bed.

Yes, I had a bout of massive hysteria when finally in a room alone but have much improved since then. The only down side was the two inch cockroach I found outside the bathroom this morning and the small effects from jet lag.

I have been told that the American Ambassador is to visit the school tomorrow...a first in over 40 years and we are having a huge BBQ to celebrate. I also have yet to see my room, take stock of my supplies or get my phone/computer systems going. I am confident that everything will happen and while the trip out to Nigeria may have been less than ideal, I know this is where I am supposed to be. The people are amazing and supportive and the culture is distinct and prominent. Now I just have to find my place among it.