ktravula – a travelogue!

reflections on the world

Our Generation is a Running One

What do I have? Where am I? Where am I headed? These are three main questions that I always asked myself when things looked bleak. There was a stretch of two years not too long ago when I asked myself the same question everyday of the week and every hour of the day while running after very many things that provided not just a way to remain active, but an escape from the tedium of asking. Years later, when many of those endeavours paid back beyond expectation, I became grateful for the chance just to ask them, even in the dark of despair when there was nothing else to do. I’ve been grateful for those moments ever since although I would never hope to relive them.

Today, prompted by many running conversations with a few people, students wondering where their life is headed in these sea of expectation and uncertainty, I want to tell a little of my story and hope that it moves them to do something, or just keep moving – whichever works – as long as they do it with all focus and the realization that everything done with a passion and the best of one’s efforts will always be rewarded, sooner or later, in some form or the other. And a realization that every experience has something to teach that would be useful for the next stage of life.

Our generation is a running one, moving, searching for its own true relevance. In the dark days of those years when the world seemed closed down around my head, I thought about so many things that I could do to avoid waking up everyday to face the bright morning sun that seemed ever so promising, yet not forthcoming with anything but a quandary of many superficial exits. Yet somehow, I got through it. How, I can’t say now, except that one day, it all passed away along with its dark clouds of self doubt and despair. I woke up, and it was sunshine again, with the beautiful colours of a new day. Then I took a shower. (Haha, kidding!)

Many students today in the different areas and levels of school work are worried about the prospect of their future. They are not alone. I remember just how depressed I was in the last weeks of my undergraduate days, wondering just what the world had for me. All of a sudden, I was heading out of this cocoon into a bold new world with its own brand of rules and expectations. The only buffer between that exit and the big bad world was a mandatory national service. A year after the national service – actually many months before – I relapsed into the same state and wondered if anything more than gloom would come out at the end. With nothing but hope, resilience, tenacity and the willingness to endure the long nights, I somehow trudged on doing whatever I could, and here I am.

I guess the only thing else to say is that when life boxes you into a corner is usually the best time to get up and fight. Sometimes it seems impossible and totally hopeless. The good news is that it isn’t. I can call myself a living example. (Knocks on wood.)

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Random Confessions

The successful outing of my My [State/Country] posts on this blog (after Texas and Saudi Arabia) is giving me many more great ideas. How many states will I be able to “visit” virtually and publicly thank before my time here is over? Who wants me in their area? I definitely would like to show here to you my readers all the  relevant ktravula hot spots all around the world, just in case it ever occurs to anyone someday to organize a get-together/reunion party of all my blog readers, fans and commenters. :) But I can’t. Or so I think. Physically, I’ve now been to Providence RI, Washington DC, Boston MA, St. Louis MI, Edwardsville IL, Cahokia IL, Principia IL, Chicago IL and Olney MD, among a few other small places. But virtually, I’ve been in many more places I probably would never see. Here’s the plan, as time permits, I will go around the world from here. The traveller is coming to a location near you. :D

School resumes on Monday. I have not yet confirmed whether classes resume too. If so, then I will use this weekend to plan my class schedule for the year. It’s the hardest (I think) part of the work. When the plans are set, it not so hard to follow through in class, even though there usually occurs along the way some things never before planned, like public holidays, snow storms, and other engagements. But I like to have a plan. It helps to keep me focused. The last time I checked, I will now have sixteen students. That’s a higher number than the last nine who, like they told me on the last day of class, must have told their friends to sign up for that foreign language class where you could get an A (if you work really hard for it) and have fun all at the same time. Talking about As, all my last students but one got As. The person that didn’t get an A got a B, deservedly. She wasn’t as punctual as she should have been. And she did really poorly in the mid-term test. As for my own Linguistics class, I have not yet seen my results. Next week, maybe.

How did I spend my Christmas? I went to the house of my Professor A., originally from Nigeria, who was spending Christmas in town for the last time. He had resigned from this university and was moving into government work in the capital (Springfield). The most memorable part of the very beautiful evening was the “lucky dip” where everyone was asked to pick choice presents from a whole lot gathered in the living room. I got a wall clock. Now I can see what time it is while sitting on my bed without first having to pick up my phone or computer. However, there was not much Nigerian food at the table, surprisingly. There was mostly American foods, which I enjoyed. And there was moi-moi. It was a very memorable and enjoyable evening in company of people of different nationalities, behaviour and beliefs. I met his young children and their friends. One of his children’s young cousins in attendance had attended St. Patrick’s school, Bashorun Ibadan before relocating to the States. Our discussions brought back memories of truancy in secondary school days when we snuck out of our school premises to attend Christmas parades in the compound of the Broadcasting House just across the road…

New year’s eve. This one was a story with a k-leg, because Chris from class who had checked with me many times about our earlier plan to spend the eve together at his house partying, playing, reminiscing and flirting around with American girls suddenly had a work schedule! Oopsie. (Sorry Chris. I know you might not believe it, but not all of us from that side of the world play around with firecrackers around festive periods. ;) ) In any case, I believe(d) him and stayed indoors since Ben also had suddenly disappeared earlier in the day to go to his folks at St. Louis. I fell asleep at nine, and woke up barely at a quarter to twelve, so I slept again, hoping my some miracle to wake up before twelve. The next time I opened those eyes, it was 1pm and I had two messages on my cell phone, from Nigeria. Happy New Year, they said. There were no fireworks like it would have been at New York’s Times Square, or back home in Nigeria (yes, we use fireworks too. Note to Chris: They are festive fireworks, not explosive firecrackers). I went back to sleep a few hours later, consoling myself that in some other parts of the world – in California, for example – they were still in 2009 by a few minutes.

I broke my first and major new year resolution on the third day of the year. I ordered a $24 pizza from Papa John’s! And as guilty as I felt after placing the order, I enjoyed it. It was coming after a few gruesome days of needed abstinence. Thankfully I didn’t have to eat it alone. But on the (not altogether so) bright side of this matter, a freak error/mixup of communication between me and woman at the housing office on Monday when I went to make payments for my housing rent has cleared my bank account/card of ALL available funds. The situation, as she apologetically promised afterwards, is now being rectified. Five days later, it has not, and I’m mad! One week, and perhaps more, is a very long time to wait. This means of course that there would be no more Papa Johns, even if I crave it. And as soon as my supplies of food run out, which they will, very soon, I will be very screwed :D , not literally. So, sigh, wish me luck people, or send relief, or remember me in your prayers. But whatever you decide to do, when you eat your nice meal of turkey, moi-moi, amala, potato salad, stuffing, egusi, pounded yam, broccoli, jollof/fried rice, ogufe, or whatever else you have on your plate on your side of the world tonight, please remember this American child that is now surviving on less than a dollar a day. Don’t look for any paradoxical punch-lines to this. There are none! :) :D :(

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