Something Familiar

Today has been great day! Great days don't happen all that often here, so I decided to write about it. One of the sisters took Katlin and I to the shopping mall today. There was no school today, because the country is celebrating a holiday called Children's Day. She dropped us off at the mall where we stayed for about four hours. This is the first time we been able to leave the school compound without a sister escorting us the whole time. It was nice to have a sense independence, even if it was just for a few hours. The sisters and the most of the people in country do not visit these malls very often. They prefer to buy food, clothes, and household items at outdoor markets. The shopping malls are considered to be for the wealthy or young people who want to hang out with their friends. We spent the day there buying groceries and looking at clothes. I think the most exciting grocery store find was probably canned hummus. I haven't tried it yet, but if it even resembles the hummus I eat at home it will be wonderful. The best part of the adventure was the food court. I ate most of this vegetable covered pizza pictured below. 

It was really very good. And full of vegetables and cheese, two things I miss a lot. The second great thing about this food court needs no introduction. 

I ate the whole thing. It was amazing. Cold stone and KFC are the only two chains I have seen since I arrived. I was pretty surprised to see a Cold Stone. I enjoyed both of these treats with cold Pepsi Lights, the only diet soda I can find. It was like being at home for a few hours. Did I mention the store is air conditioned? Amazing! 

The day ended with the arrival of a package from my mom. It was filled with candy, brownie mixes, almonds, granola bars, a few surprises, and many school items I requested. It was a lot of fun to see all the things she had collected for me. For a minute it was like she was here with me.  I couldn't have asked for a better day in Nigeria. 

What Does Your Name Mean?

I love my name. It was given to me by parents and it is what my friends and family call me. But what does it mean?

Anytime I introduce myself to someone new in Nigeria they want to know what my name means. I always explain that it has no meaning it was just the name my parents liked.  To the people of Nigeria that is just ridiculous. Everyone’s name has a meaning. Nigerian children can be given many names.  Everyone gets a name in their native language and a baptismal name, which is in English and often very European.  They can also be given names by certain family members.  The names given to the children in their native language always have meaning.  Below I’ve listed just a few examples of Igbo names and their meaning.

Tochukwu (Praise God)

Chukwuebuka (God is Great)

Chijindu (God holds the life)

Ezinne (Good Mother)

Ijeoma (Safe Journey)

Chukwudumebi (God lives with me)

Ngozi (Blessing)

I really like how the names have meaning. Some people do go by their English names, but the majority use their native language names. It has made learning student names almost impossible.  I’ve learned 10 student names in 9 weeks and they are all in English. Needless to say I have a lot of work to do! I was also given an Igbo name by the church women not long after arriving. They gave me the name Chioma. It means good God.

A Few Random Photos

One of the sisters does some catering in her free time and cooks for the boarding students occasionally. This is a wedding cake she made. I have tried the cake and it doesn't taste anything like the cake we eat in the States. It is not as soft and moist. It is more like a bread with raisins. The cake does not have icing, just a layer of fondant. I do like the cake, but I don't really consider it to be cake. I think of it more like a bread I would like to eat with my coffee in the morning. 

This is a calabash, the traditional Nigeria wedding cake. When a man wants to marry a woman, he must bring a calabash of palm wine to her family. 

This is a cashew fruit tree. If I was ten it would be the perfect climbing tree.

 

This is a cashew fruit. The yellow part is an extremely acidic fruit unlike anything I've eaten before. I don't really like it. The green part on the bottom is where the cashew that we eat in the U.S. comes from. You cook it and take the shell off. 

This is a jack fruit. It kind of tastes like bubble gum. I like it, but it's very sweet so I can only eat a little bit. I have heard that you can find it in the U.S., but I've never seen it. 

We attended a meeting with all the sisters of this order in Nigeria. It lasted for  four days. This is were the cook and the postulants (girls preparing to be sisters) cooked the meals for approximately 80 people. We tried to help, but weren't really given much to do. 

This is the cook grounding crayfish to go in one of the many dishes Nigerians use dried crayfish. It is one thing I don't think I could ever learn to like. 

This is their version of a taxi. It is called a  keke. It's pretty inexpensive, but a little scary to ride in. There are regular taxi cars, but they are not as easy to find and I think they are expensive. 

I wish I had been able to get a better picture of this, because it was pretty impressive. The man in the picture is carrying a giant stack of books on his head. People commonly carry things are their heads. It's an impressive skill that I just don't have. 

52 Days and Counting

Today marks 52 days in Nigeria. In some ways it feels like I just arrived and in other ways it feels like I’ve been here forever. We arrived in Nigeria at a really awkward time due to the visa delays.  The school is year round, so they have three trimesters. When we arrived all students in the nursery, primary, and secondary schools were taking their final exams for the trimester, so basically all we could do was grade exams. I was able to do a couple “Get to Know the American” lesson, but I wasn’t able to get started with my regular role here. Easter Break was essentially the whole month of April. I was extremely bored, homesick, and felt very isolated behind the walls of the compound.  Many days started with tears and most ended with tears. It has been so much harder and so much different than I expected it to be. I feel like I’ve learned more about myself and what’s important to me in 52 days than I have learned in 25 years.  My expectation of the year, the school, the country, and the sisters is very different from how the experience has actually been. This is a public blog, so I won’t go into detail about all these things. I mentioned some of the struggles in previous posts and some just shouldn’t be written here.

On a more positive note school did start Monday. The students and teachers have returned and I am very grateful for this. It helps with the feelings of isolation and loneliness. I’ve made friends with a couple teachers and find myself spending free time throughout the day talking to them. I am working mostly with the Nursery 3 students, which is equivalent to Kindergarten in the states. I teach math to small groups in each of the four classrooms. Teaching to the whole class is just about impossible. I tried and failed. The students struggle to understand me and so do the Nursery teachers. I find that in the small groups I am able to do interactive math lessons and the students can understand me. I am also working with the reading teacher. She is responsible for teaching reading to approximately 380 students, so she can use all the help she can get. I don’t really understand the reading program they use here, but right now I feel like the only thing I can do is support the teacher. Hopefully in time I can introduce some new ideas to the reading program.

Kaitlin and I have also started working with the students that board. There are approximately 80 girls in middle and high school that live in the compound. We have spent a couple nights this week doing tutoring there and will continue to do so in the coming weeks. We have some exciting things planned for them that I will share at a later date.

Things are improving here.  Obviously the boredom has decreased significantly. I still miss home and all the people there more than I could ever have imagined possible, but staying busy helps. All the emails, comments, or text messages have helped. Thank you for your support!

Finally, I have had several people ask me about the recent kidnappings of the girls from their school and bombings in Nigeria. I just wanted to let you all know that as of right now all of these things are happening north of the state I live in. I feel safe here, but am following the stories carefully.  

A Couple Easter Pictures

Kaitlin and I had dresses made in true Nigerian fashion. In time we hope to have several more outfits made.The clothes are one of the things I really like about the culture. I stay in a constant state of sweaty and gross and my hair has to stay off my neck at all times, so its not the prettiest of pictures but it's pretty much my permanent Nigeria look. The sister in the picture is Sr. Ifeoma. Her birthday was on Good Friday, but we celebrated it on Easter Sunday. 

Kaitlin and I with all the sister in this community.

The Holiest of Holy Weeks

I love holy week and it's one of my favorite times of the year in the Catholic Church. I’ve always gone to Holy Thursday mass and the Good Friday service too.  This holy week has exceeded all other holy weeks in the amount of services and time spent in church. I’ll begin with Palm Sunday.  In the community that I live in there is one sister who does not speak the local native language of Igbo.  At the local parish all masses are in Igbo, which I obviously do not speak.  On Palm Sunday this sister decided to drive further into the city, so that we could go to the one parish where mass is done in English. I was very grateful for this, as it’s hard to fully participate in mass when you don’t always know what’s going on.  The Palm Sunday service at this parish was almost identical to the one I am used to attending at home. We began in the parking lot and did the procession into the church where mass continued as normal.

Holy week continued on Monday with a special mass at the cathedral. The mass was to honor the bishop in the Enugu diocese.  It was in Igbo, so other than the occasional translation from one of the sisters I didn’t understand what was being said.  The mass was done outside in a very large area probably the size of a football field. It was filled with people and probably a hundred priests. The mass was pretty long. There was lots of singing and the homily (when the bishop speaks) lasted for much longer than the average American homily. After mass people from different parts of the diocese and different organizations within the various churches presented the bishop with gifts. He was presented with gifts ranging from cases of water, to yams, to rice, to large live animals. I’ve never seen anything like it.  We got to leave at the beginning of the gift presentation for a while to visit one of the nearby markets, which I’ll talk about in a different post.  It was a nice little break from all the sitting. In total I think we were there about five hours. There was a lunch served to all the people at the end and Kaitlin and I were introduced to the bishop.  Do we have a celebration for the bishop like this in the states? If we do I’ve never heard of it.

We continued Holy Week on Wednesday with a morning of quiet reflection. We drove to a church compound I had not yet been to and sat outside in silence reading and reflecting for the morning. I enjoyed this. It was nice to go somewhere new and enjoy some time resting and reflecting under a nice shady tree. There were a few more bugs than I would like, but that’s a story for a different post.

Holy Thursday began with mass at the cathedral again. This mass is known as the Chrism Mass.  Like Monday there were hundreds of people from all over the diocese and several hundred priests. The priests were there to renew their vows.  It was also in Igbo, but the sisters did have a missal so I could read and follow along.  This mass ended with lunch for all the sisters and priests present.  Holy Thursday continued in the evening with the traditional Holy Thursday mass. They did the traditional washing of the disciples’ feet. Unlike my church at home, all of the people chosen to have their feet washed were men. After the service there was 24-hour adoration. The sisters and about a hundred other people had the first hour, which was good for me because I don’t think I would have been able to participate in the middle of the night.

Good Friday began in the afternoon with the Stations of the Cross.  The church acted out the Stations. It was pretty impressive.  We began in the church with Jesus in the garden right before he is handed over by Judas.  It was the most realistic production of the passion I have ever seen in person. There was fake blood and the guards very believably beat the man playing Jesus. The stations actually started outside and continued around the block. Unfortunately there were so many people that I couldn’t see many of the stations and since it wasn’t in English I couldn’t understand anything being said.  When we returned to the compound they put the man playing Jesus on the cross and had two other men on crosses to each side. At this point Jesus was covered in the fake blood and looked as exhausted as I would imagine Jesus would have been. Kaitlin and I had been warned by the U.S. Embassy in an email that we should be extra cautious during Holy Week, because it could be a potential time for terrorists against Christianity to attack. Well, after Jesus was hung on the cross there was a small explosion sound and smoke coming from right behind the compound wall. I jumped and thought for a split second we were being attacked. A little ridiculous I know, but no one had warned us that gunfire would be used to make the sound of thunder. So if you’re ever in Nigeria for the acting out of the Stations of the Cross, don’t panic when you here a small explosion. However I think in the future a drum might be more appropriate.  Good Friday continued with the typical service and veneration of the cross.

On Saturday I attended the vigil mass, which for those of you that know me well you will understand that is quite an accomplishment for me to stay up past a 11p.m. The vigil started at 10p.m. with the lighting of the candles. It continued with what I think was a pretty traditional Easter vigil. I have actually never been to an Easter vigil service that I can remember, so I don’t have much to compare it to. The one thing I’m pretty certain does not occur at home is dancing. There was so much dancing! People were dancing in the aisles, in the pews, and on the stage. The singing and dancing ended around 2 a.m. and to my surprise I managed to make it through the entire service without falling asleep. It was definitely a celebration and something I will not forget.

Happy Easter!

A Few Pictures

This is the primary and nursery school. There is another school building behind these two that houses the secondary students. They are also in the process of constructing a fourth building. The school has over a thousand students. Each class has about 30 to 40 students.

This is one of the school busses that bring some of the children to school. 

This is the house where Kaitlin and I live. It is very close to the house where the sisters live. 

The school has a very nice view of the city of Enugu. We live on the outside of the city, but it is still very populated and very noisy. 

This house is home to the ten sisters that live in this community. 

These lizards are everywhere! They can be up to a foot long. For the most part they seem scared of humans, but I have seen a couple that were a little more aggressive. 

The secondary school has a soccer team, but they call it football. They are the ones in green. Unfortunately we lost this game. I honestly don't know how they play in the heat. It was probably a hundred degrees during this game and several were even playing without shoes on. It's pretty impressive!