church - african style

Joey and I went to a Catholic Mass today - we think. 

One of the women who works for Joey invited us to her baby's baptism.  I have to admit, that baptism was unlike any other baptism I've seen.  First we had to get there.  The driver took us a short way out of town to a road just packed with people.  Joey asked him what was going on and he replied, "Church."  Oh.  That answers that.

So in the middle of the exceptionally colorful throng of people (they bring new meaning to the term, "Sunday Best;" they really go all out), the driver asked a passerby how to get to the Catholic Church.  He pointed to his right and we were conveniently directly in front of the gate.  So in we went to the Church's yard. 

We arrived slightly late (Dad - I swear that I was ready.  Seriously.  The driver picked us up late.  Ask Joey, he'll vouch for me.) and as the usher (as denoted by his green embroidered sash) started walking us up the pews I was horrified we'd be marched to the front (A coworker of Joey's told us a story of a wedding she attended where she was seated in front of the bridal party).  Luckily, we avoided the same fate and took a seat in the back of the church.  The very crowded and very un-air-conditioned church.  With more broken ceiling fans than not.  Anyway, the church was quite simple - one long rectangular room with plywood beams underneath a tin roof.  Small windows punctuated the walls, allowing a much-needed breeze not nearly often as I would have liked.  The Stations of the Cross along the walls ironically chronicled a very white Jesus and his apostles. 

We settled into the pew (actually I settled into the pew with Joey's boss - he settled into a white plastic chair over by the window - lucky) after the opening prayers for the readings.  First reading - nothing out of the ordinary.  Begin the responsorial psalm.  As typical for a Catholic Mass, the reader read the refrain and the congregation repeated it.  Then she sang the refrain.  Okay. 

You know that scene from The Little Mermaid where the lobster says "Cue the drums" and all of a sudden the tropical music starts to play?

All of a sudden there's some great African music and the responsorial psalm is taken to a whole new level.  Everybody's singing, the music is playing - sure its hot in here but I can dig it.  So then we have the second reading and get a repeat performance for the Alleluia.  Then they let the priest have the microphone.


"You.      are de light.       of de world.

A ceedy.     set.  on a hill.
CANNOT.
be hid.....

...Let yoooooouuur light so
SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINE
before men. 
Dat dey may see your good works.

And give

GLORY.
to your FATHAH.
who is. in. HEAVEN."

Very inspirational, I thought.  And clearly, he likes to hear himself talk.  An hour later he finished his homily.  Not like its hot in here or anything.  Guess God just made up for all those times I've missed Mass in the last few months.

I'll give him this - the homily was anything but dry.  He covered it all.  He talked for a while.  Then he sang.  Then he read.  Then he did one of those things where he'd say "Jesus" and the congregation would say "Is the Light of the World."  Repeatedly.  Then he talked some more.  Then he sang with the drums.  Then he talked some more.  He walked up and down the aisle.  He danced.  He asked questions that even the congregation assumed were rhetorical and then said "I would like a volunteer."  He talked about childbirth and labor pains.  And interviewed a woman in the parish about it.  Finally, I have to admit, I stopped listening.  I'm pretty sure he switched to one of the local languages to say something and I zoned out because I was more focused on not passing out from heatstroke.

So finally we move on to the offeretory hymn.  Where they pass the basket.  Well actually that's what they do at every other Catholic Mass I've been to.  Here everybody gets up out of their seat and brings their offering to the altar.  To the music.  And then everybody claps.

Then it was time to kneel.  The man next to me, upon noticing that I was Catholic, was kind enough to share his bulletin with me.  He placed his on the wooden plank of a kneeler and knelt on it, and so I followed suit.  Ow.  I mean, I get that that's kind of the point - Jesus died for us and we kneel down during the part where the bread becomes the body.  But we wimpy American Catholics kneel on padding.  Not so in this little church.  I made it about three minutes before I had to sit.  I thought my knee pads were going to bore through my skin into the wood.

So eventually we sing the "Our Father" to the African beat (honestly probably one of my favorite renditions), and we're on to Communion.  The churchgoers just kind of filed up randomly - there wasn't really any order to the line and so I figured I'd go when the guy next to me went.  Well he didn't go.  So neither did I.  Hmm.

Then we figure its time for the baptism.  The woman who invited us came over and escorted us from our pew outside, where a  large group of people has congregated.  She thanked us for coming, introduced us to her mother, her husband, her friends, and then instructed us to walk with her.  So she starts down the aisle with her baby, her mother, her husband, her friends, and us - the three white people.  The music is playing, the beat is going - and this procession is dancing down the aisle.  So eventually the whole group gets to the altar where the priest is dancing - with a squirt bottle.  He is spritzing everyone with high-powered Holy Water.  As Joey walks past the priest and gets squirted with his third spray of Holy Water I lose it and break into a fit of giggles.  Luckily, we're still processing (most are still dancing) and we made our way back to the pews. 

After the first person gave his ten minutes of announcements and the second started in, we snuck out.  Not that we were very conspicuous to begin with or anything.

Our driver told us we were the first to ever attend anything like that for the local staff.  I'm honored that we were invited and glad that we had the chance to go - but next time I think we'll have to get there early.  And under a fan.  That works.

cockroaches

I retract my earlier statement about not having seen a cockroach in the house since receiving the mothballs.  Just found one in the absolute worst location: my bedroom.  Biggest one yet, and did you know they flipping fly?  I'm taking out my earrings, exhausted, ready for bed and found it on the ceiling.  I immediately called for Joey, who came up with the bug spray - he hit the bug and it took off flying.  F-L-Y-I-N-G.  I ran to the other room and I hear him using my favorite four-letter word repeatedly. 

Me (screaming): "Why are you saying that?" 

Joey: "I can't find it." 

Me (still screaming): "Find the flipping thing." 

Joey: "I'm trying."  Eventually I hear the flap of his shoe.  And then again, and again, and again, and again.  "The damn thing won't die!" 


Its finally dead, and I even took a photo of it and the carnage it left in our bedroom from Joey's search.  FML.

Happenings

Oh my God the biggest hornet just buzzed by my head.  Inside.  Upstairs.  I don't even know if it was a hornet or a wasp or wtf it was but thank God our steward was here.  She killed it with my shoe since I was frozen in fear.  In other happenings on the bug front, we had two cockroaches last week - one in the living room and another in the dining room, which for some reason is even more frustrating than finding them in the kitchen.  But we also got our mothballs in the mail from Netgrocer and haven't seen any cockroaches since I put a few of those out, so they must be doing the trick.

My mom emailed me and asked my why I haven't been keeping up on my blog...I guess its one of those scenarios where if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all.  I'm just really homesick.  Its not really that I miss Des Moines or Washington, DC in particular, and I feel like I've been doing an okay job at keeping in touch with family - its just that I miss all those things that we had in Des Moines and DC.  I miss our family and great friends, I miss the great restaurants and stuff to do.  I miss being able to go for a run by the monuments instead of the mountains of trash.  I mean really, this morning, there was giant pile of trash in the middle of the sidewalk.  Oh, and Dear all drivers in Nigeria, please kindly stop parking your car on the sidewalk.  It is for walking.  The street is for driving.  Thank you.

I'm hoping Thursday night was the low point.  I finally broke down and bawled.  Then Joey and I ate peanut butter and honey toast (my solution to dessert) and drank a bottle of wine.  Alcohol and food seem to make everything better, at least for the meantime.  I mean, no, last week I didn’t eat four quarts of Ben & Jerry’s in three days.  Joey helped.  We went to the Commissary last Thursday night and even though it was still ridiculously expensive (over $6 a quart), I bought four quarts of Ben & Jerry's and as soon as we got home sat down and ate a Chunky Monkey.  Then last Friday after I got home from work decided that I needed some Strawberry Cheesecake and then later after dinner somehow the second Chunky Monkey may have been eaten as well.   Then I made it as far as Sunday before eating the last quart - Pistachio Pistachio.  FAT.  I’m an emotional eater, what can I say?  I mean, you mix PMSing with homesickness and you get a Chunky Melissa.

Anyway, the last Saturday of every month in Nigeria is called “Sanitation Day.”  No one in Abuja is allowed outside their house – no one is really sure why, but apparently if you get caught on the street – running, walking to the market, whatever – is no bueno.  I’ve heard its because once a month they want you to clean your house?  Not really sure, but last Saturday we hung out in our compound until we got the all clear.  Then we had a party - all the people in our compound put some money together and got a cover band and a guy to come out and make shawarmas (Greek/Lebanese-ish wraps with tahini and beef and lettuce and tomato - quite good).  It actually turned out to be a fairly fun time and it was something to do.

The guys making shawarma at the party.

The "best, better-than-average cover band" by the pool at our party.

Sunday we made our way to the Arts and Crafts Village outside the Sheraton.  There are all these little huts, and inside each is an assortment of beads, masks, wood carvings - random slave shackles - I mean, they are collector's items, right? Uhhh...  We didn't buy anything yet but are thinking about commissioning an ebony chest with a bunch of African carvings.  My only problem is that they carve all these cool giraffes and elephants and antelope into these beautiful pieces, and while I get that those are representative of Africa and we are, in fact, in Africa - I have yet to see a giraffe.  Or elephant.  Or antelope.  I saw a monkey in a cage on the side of the road on our way home from Gurara Falls and I just don't think that counts as wildlife.  So as much as I love the wood carvings of these fabulous African animals, I just don't feel that they are representative of our experience here.  We did find some cool little statuesques of African women with bowls on their heads that I think are more appropriate but I guess we have two years to see an elephant so it is what it is.

Also in the realm of arts and crafts, I had a dress made.  I picked out some fabric a few weeks ago and I met with a tailor.  After going through the tailor's magazines together, he sketched a design and took my measurements. I picked up the finished product last week.  The tailor had to make a few adjustments so he had me follow him to his "shop."  My friend Linda and I wandered through a maze of random brick alleyways in the market to what looked like a storage garage full of antique sewing machines.  So while the tailor adjusted my dress, Linda and I just sat on the bench outside his "shop" in the middle of the brick alley of garages.  Seeing as there was no fitting room available and I wanted to make sure the dress fit before I paid the tailor and left, I tried it on - over my other outfit - right in the little alleyway.  I think, even though I was wearing a  full skirt and tank top, the action of me putting on and taking off the dress - even over my other clothes - had the other tailors wondering wtf I was doing.  I was already fully clothed so its not like I was revealing anything.  Anyway, the dress wasn't exactly what I had pictured but Joey likes it and I might warm up to it eventually.  With the fabric and the custom tailoring it was $45 total, which is a steal for a custom made dress - but I just bought one through Victoria's Secret online for $19.99 that I'm positive I'll wear more.  So while I'm not sure if I'll commission any more dresses here, I am glad I got one - if nothing else its a cool souvenir. 

coffee

I don't know why but its really hard to get decent coffee here.  And really expensive.  A pound of ground coffee is something like $20 and it is really only slightly drinkable.

Our first Netgrocer order finally arrived yesterday and in it - Dunkin Donuts coffee.  First cup this morning tastes like manna from heaven.

Its the little things...

stuff

We got our first shipment Friday - so nice to get our hangers, clothes, shoes, kitchen knives, laundry hamper... Which also meant Joey got relegated to another bedroom and bathroom because once more of our stuff arrived there was no longer room to share.  Its actually really nice this way - he can leave his clothes all over the floor, leave the toilet seat up, do whatever he wants and I don't have to see it.  I think all marriages should have separate closets and bathrooms.

Our steward asked for the boxes from our shipment.  She said she knows somebody who does something with the packing paper and somebody else who uses the cardboard.  It was dusk while we were moving the boxes from our house to hers, and hundreds of bats flew overhead.  She explained that this nightly exodus occurs when they leave Aso Rock in search of food.  Then she cautioned me to keep my mouth closed when I look up.  I shuddered and she said, "Where I am from, we eat them.  They taste like chicken."  She told me they eat the whole bat - even the head and bones.  Then she offered next time when she returns to her village to bring us a bat to eat.  Joey was really excited about that, me, not so much.  I saw her later "ricing a coconut," which is basically grating a coconut to the size of rice.  I was surprised to see that she grated the entire coconut, even the brown shell, and she said, "Here in Nigeria we use everything."  Their resourcefulness amazes me.  Our culture seems so wasteful in comparison.


Saturday we joined a group of friends and headed on our first trip outside of Abuja.  After the most insane two hours I have ever spent in the car, we arrived at Gurara Falls for a swim and a picnic.  I saw some crazy things along the drive, like markets mere feet from the road, herds of emaciated white cattle, goats eating garbage, a dude riding a bike with a giant saucer of something balanced on his head - but I think the most shocking thing I saw was while we made a U-turn.  A man standing in the median lifted his tunic, pulled down his pants, squatted close to the ground...and shit!  Right there!  In the middle of the road!  I've heard stories of this happening all over the world and so I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised considering the lack of modern plumbing in rural Nigeria but still - wow.  Anyway, the falls were really beautiful - although none of us could figure out from where the water originates.  I watched a fisherman deftly maneuver the rocks to stand in the middle of the pool and fish. It was nice to get out of Abuja for a while, too, and see more of the Nigerian countryside.


Yesterday we booked the first part (its actually the second part but the its the first booking) of our R&R.  We decided on the Celebrity cruise and officially depart Rome (so excited to go back to Italy) this July!  Our cruise itinerary includes stops in Santorini, Athens, Istanbul, Kusadasi, Mykonos, and Capri.  AH-MAY-ZING.  Joey has already warned me that if I give him any shit about eating healthy on his "floating buffet" he will throw me overboard.  All I know is that I gained 10 lbs on my last Celebrity cruise - and that was only a 7 day and I still had my high school metabolism - this is five days longer and I'm nine years older...

Last night we went to dinner and a movie with some friends of ours.  Both of Abuja's shopping complexes (they call them malls) have movie theaters.  The "mall" we went to was actually pretty nice - there we had a decent dinner (albeit expensive for Chinese) and even had red velvet cake for dessert (dessert is kind of a hot commodity around here - Joey's been jonesing for cake so he was really excited).  Then we saw Due Date - the movies are all older releases but Joey and I were never the type to go see a movie the week it came out anyway so this works fine for us.  The movie theater is totally modern - for two hours it really felt like we were back in Des Moines at Jordan Creek Mall.

Anyway, I took a ton of pictures this weekend - here's the link: 
http://picasaweb.google.com/100586084762366858227/20110126?authkey=Gv1sRgCMSY0Nyl5dLwpAE&feat=directlink

scenes from my run this morning

a woman crouched over a sizzling skillet on the sidewalk...a pack of chickens, including two roosters and one baby chick...three women dressed in traditional African garb and neon yellow construction vests,each stooped with a tiny cluster of branches, brushing the side of the road...eight guys in front of the concrete shell of a giant house turned makeshift distribution facility, loading glass pop bottles and two-gallon clear plastic canisters of freshly baked croissants into their kelly-green wheelbarrows...a woman with a baby tied on her back...an old man, dressed in a long cream tunic, matching pants and fez, sitting on the sill of a wall ...a young man, dressed in neon green, orange and electric blue swirls...a beat-up, old, green taxi beeping its way down the road...a group of men sitting around a plastic table in the middle of an open lot....a chicken nibbling on a watermelon rind outside the fruit market...and a chubby little boy on a bike, who told me, "It's a nice day for a run!"

update

I apologize - I've kind of been slacking on my blog.  Our weekend was pretty uneventful so I really didn't have anything to write about and the last few days have actually been relatively busy so I haven't had a chance to write.  Such is life.

First of all Joey found another gecko in the house.  On the wall in the kitchen.  Lovely.  He also decided that it would be a fantastic idea to catch it to show me.  I'm sure you can imagine how well that went.  I do want to point out that he used a cutting board and cup to catch the gecko - which if you'll remember he laughed me out of the bedroom when I brought up a water bottle, cup and piece of paper to catch the first one.

On a completely unrelated note, I split my pants on Christmas.  While I was still enjoying my Christmas (before the travel disaster ensued), all of a sudden I felt my pants become slightly more comfortable.  This was certainly not attributable to the eighth or ninth sugar cookie that I was consuming at that point in time.  I reached to the back of my waistband and sure enough, there was a nice split.  Before Joey and I found out we were going to Nigeria, I was very conscientious about what I ate, we tried not to go out to eat too often and I was training for a marathon.  Well first we found out we were moving here for two years, and so watching my diet flew out the window, as well as any attempt to cook whatsoever, and then I ran the marathon which left me with about zero motivation to continue such a dedicated exercise routine.  Thus resulting in the eventual split of my pants.

I can happily say today that I do not regret a single calorie I consumed or a single workout I missed my last few months in the US of A.  Although my African weight loss has not been nearly as significant as my husband's (how I love that he stops working out and loses twenty pounds), it has been enough that I no longer have to shimmy into my skinny jeans.  Its amazing how eating three square meals a day coupled with moderate exercise (I've been running about three miles a day) works so well.  I am looking forward to the arrival of our protein powder and "Tower" resistance machine thingy (hangs on the door), but at least for now I'm no longer struggling to zip my pants.

One of the best surprises about Abuja had to be that my neighbor is a registered yoga teacher.  I've been lucky enough to take a few classes from her and they are awesome.  She and I have even talked about co-teaching a class and maybe me even someday teaching a class for her.  We'll see - I took that introductory yoga teacher training about a year and a half ago and never really did anything with it - I'm still pretty chicken-shit to get up in front of a class and talk - but it might be worth a try.  Yogis are supposed to be non-judgemental, right?

Really I can't believe today is the three-week anniversary of our arrival here.  It has gone so incredibly fast and we still don't even have any of our stuff.  We keep hearing its going to come soon but I've stopped holding my breath.  It'll get here eventually and in the meantime I've become really creative with my wardrobe.

We've already started planning our first R&R.  Is that bad?  We're trying to decide between a cruise in the Baltic (with an overnight in St. Petersburg) or the Greek Isles (with an overnight in Istanbul).  Also trying to decide just how much we want to spend, because Norwegian has a super cheap Baltic cruise (which got mixed reviews) and Celebrity has a not-so-super-cheap Baltic cruise (which got amazing reviews - and is a brand new ship).  We know for sure that our trip includes visiting our friends Sujata and Tex in Paris and what may be a mini-reunion of DC friends for a sojourn to Provence to see the lavender in bloom.  So excited!  Joey is even talking about spending a few days in Santa Margherita at the Imperial Palace - I'm not sure what's gotten into him but I'm in love with that idea.  He even has suggested staying in the same room we did on our wedding night - has Africa made my husband more romantic?  Or is getting away from the hustle and bustle of DC just bringing sexy back?  I don't know but I like it!  Bridget, your sister may have been on to something.

Joey and I attended an event last night.  In honor of the FIFA Women's World Cup in Germany this summer, FIFA embarked on a welcome tour to all the countries who qualified.  We got to meet Steffi Jones (who from what I understand is somewhat of the German equivalent to Mia Hamm), see the Women's World Cup trophy and the Nigerian womens team, the Super Falcons.  There was also a buffet at the Hilton, with wine and cheese and desserts galore.  Pants-splitting Melissa was in her fat girl heaven (to quote my friend Danya).  It was nice to dress up - plus I loved looking at all the Nigerian dress clothes.  There was even a brass band playing African music which was pretty cool.  I have to admit, the press conference we attended beforehand was slightly awkward - the press is significantly more direct - for example one journalist asked the Germans how they planned on controlling the skinheads from killing black people...?

Steffi Jones

Anyway, my job is getting a lot easier.  Still tedious but I feel like I'm getting a handle on things and actually pretty proud of myself for figuring it out.  (I say that now.  Don't quote me in May when financial statements are due.  Hopefully by then my accounting textbooks will have arrived for some remedial studying).  I also really enjoy the company of my manager.  He's British and has a great dry sense of humor.

Other than that, we're just settling into our routine here.  Lazy weekends are spent mostly by the pool.  I can't complain at all about that - or about the fact that my stewardess is amazing.   Yesterday I got home from work and had a panic attack because the dogs were gone.  After frantically running around the house I rushed to the front door to look outside and there she was, all three dogs with her  - they'd gone for a walk.  This morning she went to the market for me and picked up some fresh eggs and papaya - it really doesn't get much better than that, right?