ktravula – a travelogue!

A Nigerian Journey

Those interested in what Christmas looks like in Nigeria should read this evocative piece by Lauren Halloran. While you are at it, check out Kevin’s description of typical Nigerian hospitality in his “Then Nigeria Happened” blog post. Faraway in the American mid-west away from the warm tropics of Western Nigeria, all I have is the perception of others of my (perhaps altogether imaginary) homeland. How do strangers see us? What has changed since all this years? What are the things that I – as a citizen of that land – have taken for granted and have assumed as part of the normal part of the landscape without questioning? What are the new features? What do I miss? What do the visitors see?

In November, I read another blogpost about a man who was going through Africa on a bicycle from London to Cape Town. Along the way he passed through many African cities and he wrote about them. The one that interested me the most was obviously his post about entering Nigeria for the first time. For someone coming with a British eye on a bicycle, what does he see? How does he see it? More, how interesting is it to travel through such a large continent on a bicycle? What was the desert like? What of the shores and the mountains? What about the weather?

The prospects of travelling opened up to me the first time I got on a bicycle – the small BMX-type that I inherited from my brother when I grew tall enough to get on it. How far will one go? And what lay out there? The idealistic cravings of those adolescent days have given way to the reality of cars, aeroplanes and internet pages, and we live every day through the eyes of others. Part in delight, part in envy for the authentic realities of their journeys and the occasional weather-conditioned limits of mine, we watch with required fascination. The world is not so big after all.

New Year Resolutions

I felt I should speak about new year resolutions since everyone is doing the same. I don’t have any. I outgrew the whole process a long time ago. This doesn’t mean that I don’t make plans. It only means that I don’t wait until the end of a year/month to begin them. My resolutions come onto me like a whim and stay until I decide to change them again, and life goes on. Recently, I have been thinking of riding my car less and riding my bicycle more. This is one resolution that will be beautiful (not to mention cost effective) if we were not in one of the coldest time of the year. Still, as soon as it warms up, as it often does around here without warning, one might see me cycling with the wind around the campus. End of resolution. Oh, one more: (maybe) blog more, in spite of what school work looks like.

Now what do I expect of 2011? Even that, I’m not totally sure, but I assume that whatever it may be would include plenty traveling, new discoveries, more time with girlfriend, and friends, new pictures (and maybe a new camera), and a more productive time in school. It is funny when I ask myself whether I’m having a more productive time as an independent writer/blogger or as a graduate student; or whether my ability to develop myself by writing is made better by the peer review of the classroom walls than by the comments in a blogpost. Times just change so rapidly that it may well be that the education via this means of global interaction might come to become more challenging (if not more valuable, or more relevant), than the one we get from classroom. In any case, a combination of the two can only be even better. More importantly, I intend to have more fun, laugh more, and love more.

Clarissa gives voice to my thoughts when she advises that resolutions be made to delight the author. As far as resolutions go, I can do with none, or very few. But that won’t stop me from dipping into my bag of curiosities once in a while to look for new things to try. The other question left would be: would I go to Nigeria again this year? I hope so, but I most likely won’t, except I get something/someone to pay for my trips, and give me something really fun to do while I’m there. Summer in Edwardsville is really hot, and I don’t need a tan. Moreover, I’d really love to go and complete my tour of the country – and maybe visit Jos for a third time, and the Eastern and Southern parts for the very first time. But what do I know? Let’s see how the year turns out.

Happy new year to you all.

It Begins

It begins with a step, and everything else follows. The last time I had this much fun entering a new year was a few years ago. 2010 though was different though. Alone in an apartment in the height of winter in a small town, I counted down into the year through my snores and a wish that I had means of transporting myself to the centre of all the attraction. Alone and almost out of my mind, I resorted to sleep. When I woke up, the year had already begun, and I just followed it. In some places, that is the worst possible way to begin the year. And look how fabulous that year turned out. I visited places I’d never been before, met many nice people I’d never met before, lived and loved voraciously, and now I’m back to almost the exact same spot, continuing the journey.

And so yesterday began very promisingly, with a visit to a Chinese buffet. I figured that if we’re going to eat into the new year, we might as well do it at the expense of someone else. Not being in the mood to cook all morning, I starved myself into the evening, and headed out when I could with a bunch of friends to the nearest buffet. The countries present at the table were Benin, Morroco, Nigeria and Indonesia. A few hours and many helpings later, we were on our way to another get-together of Nigerians in the United States, but not before finding out that the fortune cookie had a very personalized message for me, again: “You shall step on the soil of many countries.” There couldn’t have been a more auspicious beginning.

After many hours of dancing and listening to Nigerian highlife in the presence of grown folks from Nigeria many of whom haven’t been home in three years, we set out again this time to the bar where the countdown to the new year took place. The bar was Erato, one of the most cozy bars in Edwardsville. In there was my friend the blogger from Ukraine, and her husband. They had a lovely gift for me – a cool ornamented cap to keep my head warm, and an Amazon gift card. Three glasses of mojito, plenty loud guffaws and wine-induced railleries later, we were done.

The countdown was loud and cheerful, as should be in such a place. When it was over, we hugged and smiled, and welcomed ourselves in to the new year. Then we went to the last spot of celebration: the house of the same cool couple to eat the most delicious dessert: cake and champagne, and to laugh, argue, discuss, disagree, learn and mostly to share. By the time we got back home at 4 am, it was hard to summarize the experience as anything but a perfect welcoming into a year of promise.

And all through the night, I kept remembering the text of that message in the fortune cookie.

September’s Children

It makes sense now, the glee of the New Year’s Eve either with wine, snacks, food, music, and revelry. A special night. What do you know? In an open space with souls of fun drinking to their hearts’ desire, and shouting as the clock counts down to zero, life will begin again with fireworks of the most spectacular kind. It makes sense. What am I even talking about? It is not just a coincidence that December 31 is one of the coldest nights of the year. In the tropics, it is harmattan with the cold dry winds blowing from the north. Here in the cold regions, it is the winter snow and its windshield factors across the night sky. Yet nobody cares, it is the 31st, and the street fills with great spills of joyous moments, and hugs.

Now I’m giddy. A few hours ago, today looked as promising as just any other day. Now not so much anymore. It feels like the end of an old world and a triumphant approach to a new one filled with promises. I already know where I am going to be, riding on the pleasant wings of a beautiful air with loud noises, and laughter, and drinks going down in measured installments. There are many precedents to this revelry, and each comes with the pleasure of remembrance. One of them does not, however, only because it couldn’t be remembered. It feels like the very beginning of a special day. Is there a hovering spirit of birth lurking around the corner? Not for me, but just a general air. Fertility? By September next year, many new children will be welcomed into the world – a result of the pleasantness of New Year’s Eve.

It all makes sense now. Father never was one to spend his New Year’s Eve in the bosom of a church. What do you know? In the space filled with people of fun drinking to their hearts’ desire, and shouting as the clock counts down to zero. There, life sometimes begins, with fireworks of the most special kind. We are called September’s children. And tonight, we celebrate our conception.

As Time Goes By

The year is over, almost. In a few more hours separating us and that faraway place, we’ll change calendars and wish each other a happy new year within drinks and glee. Why January 1 is such a special day is beyond me. I don’t worry myself about it now anymore than I worry about the Chinese year of the Tiger or the Moslem Hijiras with its lunar calendar. In another faraway place, it is a time for reflection, sometimes in the premises of a church, with singing and praying for grace for the new year. In some other part of the world, it would just be another day. For me, it shall be for cheers of whatever kind possible in a foreign land.

What did I learn this year? Much, along the many roads that I trod and the peoples I met: that people are different, that people are the same, that the earth is large, that the earth is small, that there is pleasure in travel, and food, and adventure, in writing, that the problems of Nigeria will not end tomorrow, or that America is not the heaven where everything gets solved, that life is an adventure and that plenty can be learned in every little experience.

On Christmas Eve 2010, I heard with sadness of another major terrorist attack on Jos, a city in the Nigerian middlebelt. In a continuation of a cycle of madness that has gripped the otherwise beautiful homeland of the ancient Nok culture, some politicians and other undesirable elements have chosen religion as a means to further their evil machinations to seize political power in 2011. Scores of lost lives later, the country has returned to a path of precariousness held only by a small thread of hope. For the many residents of that town and the many other unsuspecting ones in Nigeria today, 2011 is already too far away to wait for a country where safety is guaranteed for lives and property.

And so, the year ends. What did we learn? That humans will never learn anything but will return to their folly and squirm in the mire of their own barbarity? That there’s hope? Maybe neither. Maybe just the certainty that no matter what happens, and no matter where we go, we will meet with both the beauty and the barbarity of humanity. The challenge might be to delight in the minutes, and let the hours take care of themselves. Or maybe do what we can to help in whatever way we can, wherever we can. Maybe, just maybe, evil might get defeated? Maybe.

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