ktravula – a travelogue!

Browsing the archives for the Observations category.

A Dogged Return to Base

Ibadan.

It’s been told many times before: a man goes on a journey, and leaves his dogs at home. They scream and wail for many days mourning his absence, and they forget about him. But only for a while. Time and seasons go by and the world changes. They grow old and lose their cute features. Some of them even reproduce all while their master is away. And then one day he returns and they can’t believe their eyes. First they bark at him, then they wait for a little while trying to take it all in, the image of the stranger standing in front of them. Then they fly over him ignoring all need for caution. It’s him. He’s back. He’s back! Whoof, whoof. He’s back.

The smell of dirt of my dogs’ paw prints all over my clothes have not left me now as I write this. They used to be three. Now they are six. They have jumped, and whimpered, and done everything imaginable to me. And now I believe that I’m home, for sure, and I need a good bath. And sleep.

PS: There are a few new discoveries: That my last grandmother is dying and doesn’t recognize me anymore, for one. This, of all things, is going to be harder than I can take.

A Dogged Return to Base was published on May 19th, 2010, with the tags , , , under the Observations category. There are currently 6 comments on this article so far.

Adventures in Paris

So I was in France, but only for a few hours as well. No, I didn’t visit the Eiffel Tower. (I at least said “Bonjour” and “Au revoir” to some woman, and she smiled back if only for a second. That should count for something.) Commuting from one part of the Charles De Gaulle airport to another, I couldn’t help but notice a very wide range of African clothings worn by the Africans and non-Africans moving through the airport. It gave a beautiful view of a colourful town. It was the first airport I’d been that had such array of cultural attires. American airports have everyone in jeans, tops and sneakers, or in jackets, ties and boots. No variety. Go to France and see a real multicultural environment. Well, not totally: everyone there spoke French. But in dressing, they all seemed to assert their identity, and I felt a little out of place wearing my SIUE sweat shirt.

Buying at airports have never always been my thing, but I saw a couple of nice “I was in France” t-shirts in the lounge and I tried to buy them. The conversation that ensued went somewhat like this:

Me (approaching the empty counter. It was about 5.40am, French time): Hellooo. Who’s here?

About two people who were already (window) shopping in the open shop looked at me for a brief second, and looked away.

Me: I’d like to buy a few of these. Who’s in charge?

Some young woman then came forward from the corner. She spoke some French that I couldn’t comprehend.

Me: Bonjour.

She speaks some more French.

Me: Erm, sorry. I don’t speak that much French. Do you speak English?

She: Yes.

There is something innately beautiful in a French person speaking the English language. I was mesmerized.

Me: Good. I’d like to take this, and this. How much are they?

She: So-and-so euros.

Me: Euros?

She: Yes.

Me: Do you accept dollars?

She: Yes.

Me: Alright, here is a hundred.

She: Oh, I’m sorry, we don’t have change for this.

Sigh.

She: If you’d go down that hall, you could get it changed.

I was too tired from the previous trip, and I didn’t want to make any more efforts so I said no.

Me: Do you take cards?

She: Yes.

Me: Good. Have this.

She collects it and swipes it on the machine.

She: It doesn’t work.

I gave up. I know I shouldn’t have expected an American card to work in a European country without first having directed it to by the issuing bank. The disappointment from the encounter was not only that I couldn’t buy some fancy French clothes and perfumes as gifts, but that I couldn’t stay long enough to hear much of that French English of hers. Super, I tell you.

Adventures in Paris was published on May 18th, 2010, with the tags , , , , , , under the adventures, Fun, Observations category. There are currently 1 comment on this article so far.

From the E to the L

The journey back home started with a short trip to St. Louis in company of a friend, and a Professor from my University who had graciously volunteered to give me a ride. Not having slept at all throughout the previous night, I succumbed to sleep many times before I found myself – quite in time – at the Lambert Airport, again. After removing my shoes and jacket, and after checking in the two big bags that I was permitted to check in, I hopped on the plane to discover that I had got a window-side seat once more.

I’ve never understood this, and right now I know that it’s more than just a mere coincidence that EVERY time I have travelled by plane throughout the last ten months, I got a window-side seat. The flight was booked for me by the Fulbright people so I believe that someone must have delighted in placing me at the best spot for action on flight. I thank him/her. By the time I got on the next plane from NY to France as well, I was on the window-side again, although on a different side of the plane. And needless to say, I slept off before take-off in those two instances. There goes the hope of the Fulbright flight arrangement officer for a detailed report of a plane take-off from St. Louis and New York City. Sorry pal :). I however got a good shot of the landings. I’m thinking of making a Youtube video of them, but don’t bet on seeing them soon. My internet here doesn’t even do well with uploading pictures, so videos are out of it.

I was in New York long enough to have a decent meal of the day in good company of a friend and fellow Fulbright teacher in NY who had agreed to meet me, and then I headed out. No thanks again to the special arrangement of my flight officer, I didn’t have enough time to visit the supposed charming city of lights. Come on, was an eight-hour layover too much to ask for? 🙁 In any case, now you have your wish, I’m now at home thinking of how much fun I could have had visiting Time’s Square, checking out Ground Zero, The Empire State Building and the United Nations’ Building. What about the Statue of Liberty, the Metropolitan Museums and Long Island? Well, you can have your New York City. I’ll keep my Chicago memories.

We at least have Oprah and Obama! Who do you have? And don’t tell me Letterman.

From the E to the L was published on May 18th, 2010, with the tags , , , , , , , under the adventures, Observations, Travelling category. There are currently no 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.

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.

More Lagos – Noise!

This fast city, known for its dirt as for its fast cars, runs on adrenaline. Panting for air in the back of a rickety bus of uneven metals, one wonders where exactly everyone is rushing to. I had this same feeling in Chicago, but not while in a public bus. Compared to my little village in Edwardsville, Lagos feels like hell on steroids. I’ve told you about the noise, right? When you’re not being deafened by the generators from every household that have resorted to using them to supplement electricity supply, you are being hassled on the road by incorrigibly noisy vendors on the road, bus conductors, and bus drivers with lead hands on vehicle horns. Aaaargh! Give me Cougar Village. Or, at least, give me Ibadan for now.

In my room at Cougar Village, I have never put the volume of my computer up higher than 50% of the total volume, and it was always loud enough to be heard at the front door from my room on the other end of the apartment. Right now in my sister’s house, with roaming children, a roaring fan and a rumbling generator, I can barely hear anything even at my Dell Vostro 1510’s loudest volume level.

When we talk about Climate change, we have always incorrectly assumed that the culprits are big oil corporations in the Niger Delta, or big industries in developed countries. Ask me now, and I’ll tell you that fumes from Lagos generators and commuting vans, and so much of this useless noise contribute even more to the degradation of the environment. And we say the Atlantic Ocean is now encroaching on the Lagos Island through the Bar Beach. Why won’t it? The amount of heat generated by these machines should be enough to deplete even more of the ozone layer. And what about the dirt, plastic bags on roadsides that will eventually find their ways into gutters and clog the flow of water when it rains? Well, there are some working trash cans, but are there sufficient implementation of laws regarding proper waste disposals? Are there such laws to begin with? And does anyone obey them?

My suggestions would include more road signs, stop signs, speed limit signs, traffic lights, required speedometer laws for each vehicle, and a ban on all honking throughout the day. As for the generators, there’s no solution yet although I could say let’s scrap them all totally, and force everyone to get solar panels – after all, we have the sun in abundance. The world is moving everyday towards new clean sources of energy: wind, and solar. Not only to reduce pollution, it will also reduce noise, which I believe must account for much of the disruptive behavioural patterns we see manifest in much of our public life.

Pictures coming soon. Apparently I’m not as used to whipping out my camera on the streets as I was a few months ago.

More Lagos – Noise! was published on May 17th, 2010, with the tags , , , , , under the Observations, Opinion, Soliloquy category. There are currently 5 comments on this article so far.