All I Want for Christmas

I’m not so modest as to request for only warm hugs and pleasant night kisses for Christmas as that old song goes (All I Want for Christmas is You). No, I’m a selfish guy. From window-shopping at Apple stores and browsing through unsolicited brochures sent to my mailbox by advertising geek shops, I have decided that I do want myself some new gadgets. This, blog readers, is my Christmas wishlist.

A phone is already out of it. A few days ago, Nokia sent me this new C3 phone they had promised me since summer. It is a nice gadget filled with new functions. It is really stepping up its game to compete with the Blackberry. But I don’t care for that. The fact that I can just pull it open and put my SIM card in it without any hassles is one my its best features. Then there is the Nokia chat messenger through which you can communicate with users of the same phone across distances. In any case, one more phone can’t hurt, and I already have it, so a phone is out.

iPod/iPad. To tell you the truth, I’m not much of an Apple fan, but one thing you can’t take away from them is their craftsmanship. They make products so alluring that one would almost forget any other drawbacks (which include exclusivity, non-flash capability, and cost) and plunge directly into buying. I already have an iPod Classic and it’s one of the best companions when computers are far away. All I have seen of iPads have convinced me that they will be excellent companions. Maybe I can finally throw away this old Dell and move into the 21st century. Now that would be a great gift to receive, not only because it would be like giving a library of books as well. No, I don’t want a Kindle. I like to admire it from afar.

A new car radio. Now I’ve never seen so many radio stations in my life. There are about 10,000 commercial and about 2500 non-commercial radio stations in the US alone. Illinois and Missouri have about 500, if not more, of all of those. Of that are my favourites: NPR (the National Public Radio which also becomes the BBC at night), KEZK (Soft Rock 102.5), Rewind 1033 (which plays 70s and 80s hits alone). And last week after my car recovered from battery loss, my old car radio reconfigured itself and is now playing a station called 180Y or something like that, codename: “Today’s music”. The fact is that without the radio road trips would be incredibly depressing. My car radio right now however, is as good as broken.

A super camera. It seems surreal yet appreciable that a little Canon camera could have taken so many nice shots in its short life span. A few months ago however, I dropped the little fucker on the ground by mistake and its display view went bonkers. For many weeks, I felt like a blind man walking with a service dog. The camera itself worked, but I had to put it to my eye (oh so consciously) in order to see what I was about to shoot. It didn’t just reduce the quality of the shots because of the loss of a preview opportunity, it also made it hard to take spontaneous or clandestine shots. Now yesterday, I dropped the camera again, by mistake. This time the display came back on, which goes to say that there is a solution within every problem. It has also however reminded me that I need a new, this time professional, camera.

So, there it is Santa: my techno wishlist. Not much, just an iPad, a supertech camera and/or a car radio. But if you think that all I deserve is nothing but a good old Amazon gift card or a stack of new books by brilliant writers, I would take that too, with thanks. It’s your call after all.

Thanks to Clarissa, I have made my Amazon wishlist which include a few favourite books. Yay! Now Santa, where are you? Make me happy this Christmas. I’ve been a good boy.

Goodwill Towards Men

If I could, I’d get a Santa hat to wear around this little town. The smell of snow and the colour of lights around houses in the neighbourhoods comes with a pleasant feeling of Christmas. If I could, I’ll get a Santa hat like the big American guy I saw early today at Walmart. He wore a pair of jeans, a tee shirt, and a Santa hat. He was not Santa Claus. Santa Claus doesn’t exist. He didn’t look good either. He looked goofy. But he had a Santa hat. If I could, I’d buy a Santa hat. But I won’t. I’m done with all things hats.

Hats are so last year, aren’t they? Let me leave that to Mohammed and Ameenah to project their Africanness wherever they go in the United States. They’re our new royalty of cultural exchange (although she still would not budge to my constant nagging that she takes off the religious head covering and replace it with something more culturally authentic – You’re Yoruba, for goodness’s sake. Get a Yoruba head gear. You’re and not from Saudi Arabia; and he would never stop complaining of how people become automatically distanced whenever they discover that he’s Arab. I wouldn’t suggest to him to wear a turban to class for his students either. Actually, now that I think about it, I would. Isn’t that the whole purpose of the exchange? Now that would be something). It is an interesting time to be here, learning good new lessons in cultural exchange through the eyes and experiences of some others standing at a different front line. Ameenah is Moslem from Nigeria. Mohamed is Arab from Morocco. Same continent, same religion, different people, a different outlook on life.

If I could get a Santa hat, I would. It is cold, and my hair (two months old) will soon become unable to provide needed protection. If my brain does eventually freeze itself off, I will have myself to blame, and lose the ability to do anything ever again. I should get a hat, again, truly. Ignore the fact that the last three I bought all got lost after the very first time I wore them. I ran into poet Eugene Redmond today on campus, almost by chance. An African-American writer from the United States, I met him in 2002 on the campus of my University in Ibadan and what struck me the most about his appearance was that he was always wearing an African-designed hat. Today was no exception.

If I could, I would get a Santa hat if only because it is the Christmas season. I could keep my head warm and fuzzy, and delight in the season, with goodwill towards men.

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. 😀

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! 🙂 😀 🙁

My Merry Christmas Cards

I’ve never received so many cards and gifts in my adult life as I did during this Christmas season. The last time I felt this special, I think I was really very young. Reham bought me a very cool branded shirt. Yvonne a professor sharing my office got me a cordless mouse. At the office party last week, Professor Doug Simms gave me a very thoughtful Christmas card and a surprise monetary gift, among the many other things received from friends and colleagues in the mail. Yesterday, I received a chapbook from Richard Berengarten whose poem Volta I translated into Yoruba in November, along with other Christmas cards.

Here then is a collage of my Christmas greetings and postcards, some received, some given. Merry Christmas to you wherever you are. May the happiness go around.

With love from KTravula

The Continuing Story of Mary & Joseph: “It’s A Boy”

MARY: Joe, we’re gonna have a baby.
JOE: What? That’s impossible. All I ever do is put it between your thighs.
MARY: Well, I don’t know. Something must’ve gone wrong.
JOE: Who says you’re pregnant?
MARY: An angel appeared to me in the backyard and said so.
JOE: An angel?
MARY: An angel of God. His name was Gabriel. He had a trumpet and he appeared to me in the backyard.
JOE: He what?
MARY: He appeared to me.
JOE: Was he naked?
MARY: No. I think he had on a raincoat. I don’t really know. He was glowing so brightly.
JOE: Mary, you’re under a lot of stress. Why don’t you take a few days off from the shop? The accounts can wait.
MARY: I’m telling you, Joe. This Angel Gabriel said that God wanted me to have this baby.
JOE: Did you ask for some sort of sign?
MARY: Of course I did. He said tomorrow I’d start getting sick.
JOE: But why should God want a kid?
MARY: Well, Gabriel said that according to Luke it’s kind of an ego thing. Plus, he promised the Jews a long time ago, it’s just that he never got around to it. But now he feels ready for children he doesn’t want to just make them out of clay or dust. He wants to get humans involved.
JOE: Well, is he going to help toward raising the kid? God knows we can’t do it alone. I could use a bigger shop, and maybe he could throw a couple of those nice crucifix contracts my way. The Romans are nailin’ up everything that walks.
MARY: Honey, Gabriel said not to worry. The kid would be a real winner. A public speaker and good with miracles.
JOE: Well, that’s a relief. Anyway, now that your officially pregnant I cant start puttin’ it inside you.
MARY: I’m sorry, honey. God wants it to be strictly a virgin birth.
JOE: I don’t get it.
MARY: That’s right, Joe.
JOE: Don’t I get to do anything?
MARY: He wants you to come up with a name for the kid.
JOE: Jesus Christ!
MARY: Don’t curse, Joe!

END

Culled from When Will Jesus Bring the Pork Chops, New York Times Bestseller by George Carlin.

NOTE: Those familiar with the original text will notice that I have changed the last line, the words from Mary, for effect. You may head here to see the original text and decide which you prefer.

(Photo taken at the Nativity play by children at the Episcopalian Church at Edwardsville on Sunday)