How Does It Feel?

Q: How does it feel teaching young Whites (students) Yoruba language?

A:  It feels great. It’s challenging to me as it is to them and I like the experience. I could connect with them more because they are young people like me, and they are quite eager to learn and discover new things. The experience also gives me a chance to see myself through the stranger’s eyes. I’ve recently asked them to read up a particular short story on Yoruba culture and write what they find strange and different about the people, and what they find equally similar with their culture. These exercises give me an insight into what they see when they look at me. But over all, it is a very fulfilling experience.

In response to an interview question on Bookaholic Blog two days ago. The full interview is here.

Eid El-What?

Unlike my Nigerian folks, I did not have any holidays on Monday and Tuesday to celebrate the end of the Moslem fast. If I was back home in Nigeria, I’d be home resting on Monday while I ran late trying to meet up with a class. Reham the Egyptian celebrated her Eid festival in the quiet of her flat while all her folks at home stayed back from work to rest and feast. In Nigeria, there is a public holiday for every religious holiday from Christmas, Easter to the two Moslem Eid festivals in the year. On a curios but worrying note, there is no public holiday (yet) for any African traditional religion!

Playing games on a work-free dayThere are no Eid holidays in the United States for obvious reasons: it is regarded more as a Christian state when it’s not being seen as secular. The actual reason is that there are too many holidays every year in the country, and none of them have to do with religion. That’s what I think at least, because Christmas is all about the festival, the movies and Santa Claus, and less of the birth of Jesus Christ. No one knew when Jesus was born precisely anyway. The December 25 date was only arbitrarily picked by one dead pope to signify a day of the year for followers to remember. Neither is Thanksgiving any more than a celebration of life, health and family. The formerly large purpose of gathering to praise God for a bountiful harvest must have been overtaken by the fact of growing skepticism in religion and belief in God, and the decline of subsistence or commercial farming based solely on the variables of nature. Science has ultimately come to the rescue, and I have a feeling that the God of thanksgiving may not be as large a guest at the dinner table as he used to be.

Now, let me say here that I haven’t had my first Thanksgiving in the US, and I’m looking forward to it, especially the holiday it provides. The above thoughts are merely random, perhaps reflective of the state of belief, religion and God in today’s America. Ben, my flatmate, doesn’t know whether an afterlife exists, nor does he put much thought to its existence, or that of God, because to him, it will be worse if one does good only because of a selfish desire to be accepted in the afterlife than a genuine willingness to help other people. I find this reasonable.

In my country Nigeria on Monday and Tuesday, there were days of rest from work. I like to see it as a much deserved holiday for the hardworking citizens, and not just a sacrifice to some God after a thirty days ritual of fasting. But if it makes people happier to believe it to be just so, I possess no right to deny them the privilege. When Christmas comes in December, there will also be a holiday season for the Nigerian Christians to have their own moments of feasting and sharing, which is another component of religious holidays in Nigeria. Will America learn anything from the demarcation of holiday days for religious breaks in Nigeria? I doubt it. I seriously doubt also that it ever needs to. If permitted in America, every known and registered religion will sue for its own holidays and there’d be no days left to work. Let us do with Martin Luther King Holidays, Halloween fun shows, July 4th holiday, Christmas, Thanksgiving, Labour day, and a few other distinctly American holidays, and we can all go our ways. Problem is, once in a while, a yet unadapted foreigner from a multi religious country like Nigeria will show up in America, and come late to class on a normal American Monday, thinking all the while that because his folks at home are on break, he should also be too.

To Life, Today

a Piece of Carrot Cake

Life is a foreign language; all men mispronounce it. —-Christopher Morley

The trouble with life is that there are so many beautiful women and so little time. – John Barrymore

Inside every older person is a younger person wondering what the hell happened. – Cora Harvey Armstrong

The Fifth Class

My fifth class was short, but only because it never took place. I’m blogging about it only because it has taught me another important lesson in my American experience: be punctual. But first, I should tell you why my sleeping pattern has become so irregular. Two words: time zones.

By the time it’s midnight in Illinois and I’m ready to sleep, a chat box beeps open on my laptop and someone in faraway Nigeria has woken up and wants to talk to me. It is six am their time. A little “hi” gradually turns into long phrases and sentences, and by the time my eyelids start closing by themselves, they somehow get the idea, and we part ways. It is not their fault but mine, for staying up beyond eleven pm when I should just shut down the blooming laptop and close my eyes.

"Good day class!"In today’s case however, it was none of the above reason. I was working on a translation task that took much of my time. I slept at twelve, woke up at two and slept again at five thirty. By the next time I woke up, I was thirty minutes late for my teaching class. I have never rode by bike as fast as I did today, and I got to campus panting like a deer. And silly me, I was still expecting to find the students waiting for me in class. I met only one of them the lobby, and I hurried up into the class to find an empty set of seats. Perfect. Back to the lobby, there was Bre reading, and waiting for her next class.

“Hey, where’s everyone?” I asked.

“We left.” She replied. “You weren’t there, and so we left.”

It was as simple as that.

It was another sharp reminder for me to wrap myself around the fact I’m no longer in Nigeria where students have to wait until the end of the hour for the teacher to show up in class.

Buzzing News

Here are a few new things buzzing in ktravula’s universe at the moment.

A Travula Interview

Last week, I sat down for an e-interview with a Nigerian-based literary blog Bookaholic for questions ranging from my influences to opinions on matters of literacy in Nigeria as well as my impressions about the Fulbright FLTA programme. If you ask me those same questions tomorrow, there is no doubt that I might answer them a little differently. When I was asked about my most treasured possession, my first choice of response was “My brain, then my laptop, iPod, camera, and bicycle – in that order.” Check out the interview here, and please leave comments if you can..

PosterFrank Warren at SIUE

What would a man once referred to as “The Most Trusted Stranger in America”, Frank Warren of PostSecret.com and Postsecret.blogspot.com be coming to do at SIUE as a guest speaker on the 29th September? That’s the big secret (no pun intended). “PostSecret is a sight that originated from a community art project based on a simple concept: asking people to anonymously send a secret on a decorated postcard. Since November 2004, Warren has received more than 400,000 postcards, with secrets spanning from sexual taboos and criminal activity to confessions of secret beliefs, hidden acts of kindness, shocking habits and fears.” I have been the website, and seen some really weird, quirky, funny and revealing secrets of people pasted anonymously there. What drives a man that handles such a project that encourages people to tell it all? How does he sleep at night?  He’s surely gonna be an intriguing person to hear, and I look forward to the programme. Is there something particularly you want to know about him and about PostSecret? Send them to me.

A Birthday Wish

It’s my birthday on Tuesday the 22nd, and I’m trying my hands on selflessness. I’ve made a little birthday wish: to help raise money for cancer research. There are too many causalities for a disease that should by now have got a cure. Check out the donations page on Facebook Causes here, where you can donate whatever you can afford to the Arkansas Children’s Hospital.

For my birthday, I intend to spend the evening at Rudy’s place in company of a few international students as well as some American friends. I don’t have recollection of many personal birthday party celebrations while I was growing up, but I do have a few pictures though that show evidence of such a time when I was allowed to have child moments with my young friends and playmates, eating cakes and candy and being generally jolly, but I don’t remember any of those times. I was too young to remember. Birthday was synonymous with partying, and cakes, and it was always called “the Birthday” (or “Baiday/byeday,” depending on how many tooth gaps are in the mouth of the little kids doing the pronunciation). Rudy has promised cakes, food and drinks. Oh well, I can’t complain. One day in the future, I’d look back at the very few birthday pictures I have, and say: “Oh yes indeed, I was young and fun once.”