ktravula – a travelogue!

reflections on the world

Homeliness and the Deck

Driving in a dry warm weather through a whiff of air that smells like harmattan and its burnt grass flavour, he heads to school. This is the standard. There are other freedoms along the way: a chance to walk a quiet neighbourhood at night with a coon cat on a leash with a few random stares by those who had never seen anyone of that height and/or complexion in that side of town in a long time, and greeting nods from those who had, or who know him as the new stranger in the big house. An always wonderful evening meal with an amazing family, and after-conversations ranging from events, to issues, to life, and to time.

On the last day of December, 1983 – you were too small to remember – we were stuck at the border point between Benin and Nigeria trying to get back into the country after having traversed the West African coastline visiting very nice places. The Benin border patrols had cleared us but the Nigerian folks won’t let us in. They said there had been a change of government… And the Beninoise then refused to let us back in their country as soon as we got back there… Has anything changed now?

Sitting on the wooden deck out in the warm evening breeze, he looks down into the woods where trees of varying heights and shades go on and on onto a house farther down where no one had ever been. Some people used to live there. On the closer trees are bird feeders filled with sunflower seeds. Father showed him how to add more to it whenever it finished. The squirrels spend much of their times there. Chipmunks also come whenever the sound of hawks are not close by. With little pouches under their necks, they look almost as their exaggerated depictions in those animated movies. A robin came in once along with a little one. Hummingbirds offer a most surprising sight, wheezing in and out of sight like extra large honeybees. The cardinals are the most beautiful, with red crested heads and feathers and a certain grace, all giving the evening a flavour of more than just their sounds.

Whenever the amazing tune of life gets stuck in the mucky throat of over-excitement or even oversimplification, the deck offers comfort, along with the other perks of homeliness. Then everything is all right again.


 

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Homeliness and the Deck was published on June 6th, 2011, with the tags , , , under the Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently no comments on this article so far.

One Month After

Thirty days after packing my bags and hopping on the plane from St. Louis outwards from the United States, it is time already to take stock of what I’ve learnt so far.

1. That Paypal doesn’t work in Nigeria.

2. That one year of living in America has turned my football allegiance from my colonial masters (who originated the game) to my host country. Go Team USA! (at least until you meet with Nigeria).

3. That all anxieties about returning to a long-missed place are usually exaggerated. One would always adapt and adjust in no time.

4. That I miss Edwardsville, its people, my friends, the squirrels, and hot morning baths, lemonade and chappati. Very much.

5. That I would not be making any more youtube videos in a long time.

6. That I can survive without grapes.

7. That Summer in Nigeria is better than the summer in Edwardsville. Just a few Fahrenheit difference :) .

8. That this blog will go on, at least until I run out of sensible things to say, forget to renew my subscription, or forget my log-in password.

9. That more people have read my blog per week since I arrived in Nigeria than when I was abroad. I don’t understand it.

10. That, in spite of all, it’s good to be home.


PS: I know I’m expected to write something grand and philosophical about returning home after such a long time. Right? Well, right now, with sounds of rain on the roof of my house, I’m at peace, and all I can think of are the simple things.

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One Month After was published on June 14th, 2010, with the tags , , , under the Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently 10 comments on this article so far.

Many Choices

There has always been more than one choice to make on returning to Lagos. When I left from here ten months ago, I was just an obscure citizen wary of many the propects of distance as I made my first journey out of the continent. Now I seem to have acquired a reputation of staring, and talking about the most random, most obscure details of everywhere I go. Nothing has changed about me, I like to believe, except for that little (just appearing) pot belly :D . Maybe I’ve made more friends, or spoken albeit virtually to more people since the last year. I’m still the same, I like to think. But here are choices tugging at my shirt as I contemplate the next first steps.

The Tourist: Looking at Lagos through the prism of a different country has definitely not helped my first days. Even I feel awkward now whipping out my camera while walking on the streets. These are places where I’ve walked many times before, so they are not totally new to me. I have a choice now of blending in totally as peacefully as I can as a returned son of the land, ignoring all inconsistencies visible to the eyes, or keeping up with the traveller spirit that sees all and tells all. This is not an easy choice to immediately make, and I’m sure that the genius  folks who fashioned this travelling exchange programme never considered how hard it might be for one to fit into the new frame of mind of an old society after such a year’s absence. So, I’d just be me then, whatever that is, hoping that someone points out to me when I’m beginning to overstep accepted conventions.

No more culture shock posts, promise :) . I’m home after all.

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Many Choices was published on May 17th, 2010, with the tags , , , , under the Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently 5 comments on this article so far.

The Eagle Has Landed

I arrived in Lagos Yesterday.

Well, I don’t know if it was really “yesterday” or “today” because I’ve had to reset my wristwatch so many times. Right now, it says a quarter past 5am on Sunday. On my laptop whose time still reflects Edwardsville, it says 11.16pm on Saturday. I am sleepless. I have been travelling for 24 hours, but now I don’t even know which of the days I want to occupy. Let me just take Sunday.

I have not eaten anything other than a few fried chicken wings that my sister thought might do me some good. Really? Even with this overweight size of mine? When I left here in August, I was about 176 pounds. Now I’m about 200, and what do I get for that? Some more fried chicken. I’ve danced, and sweated, and hugged my nephews and nieces some of whom I’m meeting for the first time. I’ve now also been bitten by wicked mosquitos as I type this post. Returning from a one-year trip abroad has certainly put some things in perspective. Electricity, area boys, police, stable internet, time zones, and fried chicken.

Let me thank you all faithful blog readers, those who leave and those who don’t leave comments. I thank the wonderful staff of the foreign languages department, SIUE, for a wonderful session. Belinda Carstens-Wickam, Douglas Simms, Tom Lavalle, Olga Bezhanova, Mariana Solares, Debbie Mann, Yvonne Mattson, Joaquim, Heidi, Carolina; and the workers in the language lab: Catherine, John, Rachael, Elizabeth, Heather, Scott, Joey, Elvira and everyone else I may have forgotten to mention.  I thank Prof Ron Schaefer, the director of International Programmes, Sandra Tamari who also works in the same office, and every other person in the IP who made my stay very pleasant, even though they don’t read my blog. I thank the students from both semesters for a wonderful time. I also thank my friends in Cougar Village, Mafoya, Chinomso, Ikechukwu, Jocy, Chris, Ben, Mahsa, Iman, Yo, Keshi, and Afua. See you guys soon. I miss you already.

This is not the end, dear blog readers. I am going to tell you about the trip, and some observations from France and New York. Right now, I just want to figure out which of these time zones I want to adjust to.

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The Eagle Has Landed was published on May 16th, 2010, with the tags , , , under the adventures, Fun, Observations category. There are currently 4 comments on this article so far.

Full Circle – Short Faction

Written at Cougar Village.

Looking up into the predictable night sky, he saunters home. In other climes, he might have been a little high on the freedom of the night to surprise, and to appease his seething exhilaration and bubbling fears. Here, he just paces home in little steps that completely ignore the need for caution, yet a buoyancy remains. Even the geese have gone to bed, and the road is free of any surprises. Only the warm wind blows from all directions, and his open shirt blows with it opening spaces around his armpit and exiting through his similarly open cuffs. From afar and against the background of light – except for the colour of his shirt or the size of his frame – he could have been mistaken for a waving flag, or a moving scarecrow.

Once upon a time this was home to more shuffling feet and heaps of snow. But that was then. Once upon a time, trees and their leaves that now whistle with the night shedding grains of white pollinated flowers were only high and dry, and winter shook the alien city to the barest limit of its own survival. Then there was nothing but death and dryness, and a certain music to the melancholy of heavy and seemingly wounded trees. It was seasonal. Hope had sprung up later like the flowers that now scatter on his head from on top of the tall pine trees. All in one night the change came, suddenly and without warning. Even to him a traveller, it was an unexpected miracle of a seasonal revival.

Like a visitor in a now growing market place, he looks around again with a certain brightness. The fears that returned were about how in a different place and a different time this might have been unwise, coming home at this time of the night. In his mind was something similar to a mother’s scoff of a rage: “Bloody fool, you toss your life around like a game of cards.” The delight in mischief of such confrontations has gone now, and only a nostalgic smile remains drawn on the face of the dark night sky that breathes on his upward gaze. Like looking at a mirror of one own smeared reflection, he muses, head up towards a direction that could only be east, judging by the position of the crescent moon. Home lies there, he whispers.

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Full Circle – Short Faction was published on May 14th, 2010, with the tags , , , , , under the Art, Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently 6 comments on this article so far.

I Miss Her Too

One of the hardest punches of exile for those who choose it above the shackles of hopelessness and the frustration of home must be loneliness, and perhaps a certain pull towards old sources of their romantic filling. I believe it now. The mind wanders, wondering what must it be like for them, the travellers running away from fiery dictators, while risking the lives of their families still left in the jaws of the fiery dragon. Even for those with breaking or troubled families, the pain of distance could be a sure enough catalyst for at least a kind of shared grief and shared catharsis sufficient to sustain their bond across space and time.

So besides regular phone calls, text messages and long nights in the reverie of the good old times, how else does a traveller stay in touch with the feelings of what once rocked his heart with a certain kind of joy from his distant beloved? And for those on the other side of the ocean, just what sustains that drive beyond memories, hope and pride. When does temptation overtake common sense and the flood of personal desires drive the once resolute into the throes of restless passion, reckless or relaxed experimentation?

I’m not in exile thankfully, yet my case is hardly different from those far from home on causes sometimes beyond their conscious control. I am a man, thankfully also human, which could explain why food is not the only reason why I could be missing my home tonight.

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I Miss Her Too was published on December 1st, 2009, with the tags , , , , , , , under the Observations, Soliloquy, Travelling category. There are currently 12 comments on this article so far.

New Lessons

A few minutes ago, I concluded a chat with a French student in this University (on a different but similar international programme) who told me that I had done the abominable by putting my red wine in the refrigerator. “If you were in France,” she said, “you’d be thrown out of the country by now!” Oh, the French!

IMG_0672Checking my post mailbox this morning, I found an envelope postmarked from Pennsylvania. Since I wasn’t expecting anything so soon, I was surprised to discover in it Wole Soyinka’s Collected Plays 2. I had indeed ordered it a few days earlier from Amazon alongside books by George Carlin and William Shatner.  That was fast delivery! The book wasn’t new, but it was in very good condition. Back in Nigeria, Amazon was never my friend since I didn’t have a credit card, and they won’t ship goods to Nigeria anyway. The book contained The Lion and the Jewel, Kongi’s Harvest, The Trials of Brother Jero, Jero’s Metamorphosis and Madmen and Specialists, that last one being an all-time favourite.

Today we saw the Chimamanda Adichie TED video talk in class for the first time. As I remarked to a Nigerian friend afterwards, the video was lovely, but in the end it wasn’t spectacular. I think I must have expected too much a response from the students, although in the end, I’m sure they were able to understand and appreciate Ms Adichie’s valid points in a way that they found interesting, and in a way to which they could relate. My own initial response to the talk, which was pride and exhilaration the first time I saw it, was – as I realize it now – because I’m Nigerian and, seeing her speak to such an international audience filled me with such pride. Why it did so, I can’t explain now. She hasn’t said anything new, but she has used many new ways to illustrate it. And that’s always a good thing.

Later in class, as I was about to receive a usb flash disk from a student who wanted to submit her Yoruba audio recording assignment, I felt an electric spark when I collected the disk. I was alarmed, until the other students told me it’s normal, calling it a “static” current. (Wikipedia calls it “the buildup of electric charge on the surface of objects” which is either bled “off to ground or are quickly neutralized by a discharge”). A few minutes later when I gave the flash disk back to her, it happened again just as our hands made contact, and I “freaked out”, to use American colloquial expression of shock and disbelief. That was one thing I have never experienced before, but I have no doubt that it exists, perhaps even in Nigeria, and all over the world, but I’ve never heard any personal stories. According to a few more people that I’ve asked, this is a rather common phenomenon in America which comes into play when one of the contact persons has spent much time making bodily friction with the floor with their feet or body, they are indeed capable of conducting electricity. I find that strange. I’m surely not touching anyone again soon. Time to go back to receiving assignments through email.

I miss home!

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New Lessons was published on October 19th, 2009, with the tags , , , , , , , , , , , under the Academic, adventures, Fun, Observations, Soliloquy category. There are currently 1 comment on this article so far.

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