ktravula – a travelogue!

the Nigerian Ghoul in an American Forest

Browsing the archives for the Uncategorized category.

Paula Varsavsky on Campus

Paula Varsavsky, a journalist, novelist and short story writer from Argentina is coming to campus today to give a talk to students and all interested listeners.

The talk is titled “Patriarchy and Dictatorship: The Challenges for a Female Writer in Argentina Today

She has published novels Nadie alzaba la voz (Emecé, 1994) and El resto de su vida (Mondadori, 2007), both of which are taught at different universities in Argentina, the United States, and Germany (Yale, Queens College, University of Buenos Aires and Heidelberg Universität, among others).

Nadie alzaba la voz was published in the United States in a translation into English by Anne McLean with the title No One Said a Word (Ontario Review Press, 2000) to excellent reviews.

She also wrote a collection of short sories El retrato (soon to be Published by Editorial Nueva Generación). Some of her short stories have been published in journals and anthologies, such as Lamujerdemivida, Translation, World Literature Today, Hostos Review, Revista Cultural Avatares y In Our Own Words: A Generation Defining Itself – Volume 8.  Currently, she is working on her third novel to be published under the title Una clásica historia de política y poder.

Thanks to Prof Bezhanova for the link. :)

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Where Am I?

Contrary to what you might think, I’m not lost. I know exactly where I am. I think.

I am in the United States of America, the land of the free… the place where your rights end right where mine begins.

Or not.

You are free to do anything as long as nobody (else) gets hurt. It is a land of rights as well as responsibilities.

This land does not run itself however. It is not on auto-pilot. It is made to work by people who spend their waking hours doing their part of the national chore.

“If everyone sweeps their front yard, the whole city will be clean.”

That is one quote that I’ve always liked, because it takes responsibility of making a society function properly away from the removed distance of “the other”, the government, and places it in the hands of the citizens who must either make it work or not.

The trash cans do not empty themselves. I have seen the guys who move them.

Neither does the snow magically disappear from the roads after a major fall. The woman who drives the snow mobile does so promptly and without fail. Or else how would I be able to ride my bike to school after a major snow fall?

The floor of Peck Hall is not magically clean, nor are its walls, corridors and classroom boards all fine and good looking all by themselves. The men and women who work every day to keep them as they should be also happened not to have more than just two hands. I have seen them.

This expanse of land inherited/taken over by a generation of immigrants is an interesting study. If I were to have won a great expanse of land estate such as this, I would be quite justified to fight for its defense with everything I have. I would be justified to jealously guard it as mine. I would never take it for granted. I would live everyday in the joy of the liberty afforded by such a gift. I would be an American, spending each day in gratitude and in the knowledge of the fragility of such great present, and in the joy of company. Life would be good. I would contribute to make it what it is – a land of order and contentment, if possible. I would not kill fellow citizens because they speak a different language or live in a different part of the nation.

I have seen the bus driver. She smiles at me every time I get on the bus, and we talk back and forth either about the book she is reading at the moment, or about the latest news about Nigeria and my American experiences. The bus comes on schedule. On time, most times. I do not get shoved when I go in, and neither is there noise of horns and a lousy conductor.

I’m not crazy yet, interestingly, within the silence of order and propriety. I am surprised by this. Cacophony beckons within the memories of heat and sweat in a distant city in Western Nigeria, and I sigh. I am still in the United States of America.

Alright, I’m in the Midwest of the USA, but it’s still the same. And sometimes, the calm and order unnerves me! :)

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Update on KTravulAID for Jos/Haiti

Apologies to all concerned readers of this blog who had wanted to make donations to the Red Cross in Nigeria for the Jos Relief efforts but couldn’t do so because of the problems of wire transfer. I take part of the blame for not making the best suggestions. Here now is my best idea since I found out today that wire transfer costs up to $50 in charges from the US to Nigeria. It hardly makes sense. If you want to donate to the Jos relief efforts by the Red Cross in Nigeria, please make said donations through Western Union to a reliable friend/acquaintance in Nigeria and have them pay the money into the Access bank account on your behalf. Then let them scan and send to you a proof of said payment, and we can take it from there. For those already in Nigeria, all you have to do is just to walk up to Access Bank Plc, and make your donations. The account information again is as follows:

ACCESS BANK PLC

ACCOUNT NAME: NIG. REDCROSS SOCIETY – JOS CRISIS RELIEF FUND

ACCOUNT NAME: 0430010005230

SORT CODE: 044080439

BRANCH: ADETOKUNBO ADEMOLA BRANCH, ABUJA

However, if you are an American and you do not have any Nigerian to send the money to, please leave me a comment here publicly, and send me a mail to let me know, and I will send you an my account number to send it to. Then I can send it home via Western Union and have someone pay it on your behalf.

So far, here is the breakdown of how much we have raised:

$145 from an anonymous in Illinois, who actually planned to donate $100, but due to bank wire charges, she ended up parting with $145 at the Bank of America. The money should be in Jos by now.

$80 from Clarissa my wonderful colleague at Edwardsville.

$50 from Tayo in Lagos for whom I may have to bring her artwork by hand when my time eventually runs out in this charming little town.

And finally, LaurensOnline.com, a shoe and bag-selling outfit in Lagos Nigeria has volunteered to sell all items from now till the end of stock at 20% off if you show proof of donation of any amount to the relief effort in Jos Nigeria. All you need to do is show such proof, and you get 20% off of your purchases. Without such proof, you still get a 10% off. So what are you waiting for? If you live in Lagos, find them for your Valentine purchases of shoes, bags and beads. My now famous boots are courtesy of them, so I know they sell quality.

This brings us to a gross total of $275 and a net of $230 so far raised. To all contributors, we say a big THANK YOU.

However, this offer to give free KTravularts will end with the month of February. If you are interested in the offer still, please hurry and make your donations now. Read details here.

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Four Languages

A Swiss guy visiting Sydney, Australia, pulls up at a bus stop where two locals are waiting. “Entschuldigung, koennen Sie Deutsch sprechen?” he asks.

The two Aussies just stare at him.

“Excusez-moi, parlez vous Francais?” he tries.

The two continue to stare.

“Parlare Italiano?”

No response.

“Hablan ustedes Espanol?”

Still nothing.

The Swiss guy drives off, extremely disgusted. The first Aussie turns to the second and says, “Y’know, maybe we should learn a foreign language.”

“Why?” says the other. “That guy knew four languages, and it didn’t do him any good.”

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Earthquake in Haiti

Here’s a link for those who can afford any kind of monetary donation to help the people of Haiti deal with their devastating earthquake that has left hundreds homeless and many dead. The website and the donation/relief effort is hosted by Planusa.org.

https://www.planusa.org/contentmgr/showdetails.php/id/1189150/tp/VE1HUj0xLHRpZD0xMTg5MTYyLA%3D%3D

It may be the sign of the end of times, but it doesn’t have to be the end for those now helpless folks. They need our help.

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From Halloween

IMG_1104The Halloween weekend went without incident, mostly because I later found out that it was seen mostly as a holiday for children and not for serious adults. I noticed this kind of indifference early enough in my apartment from my flatmates who had promised not to leave the front light on – a sign for the roaming kids that the house was closed for trick-or-treating. On Friday, I had gone into town late in the evening with a friend, and noticed how creatively many houses decorated their front porches with skeletons, ghouls and other scary stuff, including carved pumpkins with lights in them. There were kids on the road going to different houses in little plastic bags searching for candy. On their heels were parents and older ones who, as I was told, were there to keep their wards/siblings safe from prowling pranksters or children kidnappers. According to my friend, it wasn’t always like this. “Growing up in the 70s, there was not much in the news about kidnappings and the likes like we have today, and it wasn’t because the country was any safer, but because the news circuit was not as paranoid.” She said. “We went out at night trick-or-treating, and came back at dawn, alone and without our parents, and it was much more fun.”

280920091447At her own house, where she lives with her mother, a professor from the University, the front porch light was also turned off, and the only glow outside were two carved lighted pumpkins. We rang the doorbell and she went to hide behind one of the shrubs while I put up the shrillest imitation of children as soon as her mother approached the door from inside the house, and said “trick-or-treat!” If she was amused by our prank as soon as she opened the door, I couldn’t notice it as much as I saw her urgency to return to the basement where she was working on the computer. In short, I could say that for many people with even a modicum of maturity, especially those without preteen children, Halloween has become nothing but just a weekend of lights and irritating kids.

On Saturday was the Halloween parade at downtown Edwardsville, arguably the biggest celebration for the day. According to legend, it features a parade of the craziest costumes in the area. I had put the parade in my plans since earlier in the week, but when the time came, nature played it tricks-or-treat on my ailing flesh. I did not treat myself to a good sleep for hours preceding the parade, and my body tricked me into sleep. But wait, that was not why I didn’t go.  Here is a better excuse: It was cold, and I couldn’t ride downtown in the inclement weather. Ben could have driven us there, Mafoya and I (who had made the plan together), but Ben himself was at St. Louis at the time, so we had no choice but to stay indoors and wait for news from those who went.

IMG_1089In the end, the news wasn’t so enticing anyway. The parade started late, the costumes were not so spectacular, and it was too dark to take good pictures. So there. The only pictures I will boast of from the All Saints Weekend were the ones I took some days before then, while messing around with an old mask. And of course with the large witch hat that I tried on while at Prof Rudy’s house on Sunday. His wife had worn it in the house during their bridge-playing session, and was gracious enough to lend me for a few seconds photo opportunity. She looked better in it though, and I wish I could put up her picture instead of mine. But without her permission, how could I? I think the main reason why I didn’t eventually dress up as a Pirate of the Carribbean was because I didn’t do my shopping early enough. And by the time I got to Khol’s on Friday, all they had were children’s costumes, and the workers looked at me strangely when I asked them if they had anything for adults to wear on Halloween. Oh well,  I’m not a kid anymore. Or am I?

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