African Journal #11: Connecti Maximius

May 1, 2008

Connect-The-Dots

Reeling from the week I had in Jos, it was a weekend to look forward to when I hit the road to Abuja, 3 hours away, with Julia and Sebastian for a fun-filled weekend on Saturday. Hungry, we drove by the roadside market on the way and bought some grilled corn-on-the cob. It’s a delicacy, the corn is orange and tastes like burnt popcorn – I had devoured two! Speaking of orange, the trio of us were off to Abuja to attend a party hosted by the Dutch Embassy in honour of Queen’s Day, a national holiday in the Netherlands where everyone wears orange, paint their faces orange/white/blue, with wooden Dutch clogs. We had a former VSO volunteer, Thessa, working at the party so we were excited to get together with a couple of volunteers and dance the night away!
When we got to the fancy residential complex, we found a refreshing pool, a long bar that served free, flowing wine and Heineken beers, maitre d’s serving platters of cheese (tons of them), fresh raw herring, meat balls, and more! I wore an orange scarf and earrings, but apparently my black shirt wasn’t enough so they gave me an orange T shirt – and I obliged! There was a sea of people, mostly batures (white foreigners) dressed in orange, orange and nothing but orange!! Quite the sight! My face got painted orange, white and blue (the national colors of Holland) by a volunteer, Kristal. Once I got a cold Heineken in my hand, I set off to meet the other volunteers (around 15 of them attended!) and meet new people. While teams were assembled (I had signed up too late, so I sat by the sidelines cheering the VSO “O” Team on) and drank even more Heinekens… I think afrer the third one I lost count!
Through an Irish volunteer, I met Jimmy, an Irish fella working at the Ireland-based construction company, PW. PW constructs many buildings, including classrooms for special schools, so this was a great networking opportunity. Jimmy was a great fella!
Pretty much by 1a.m., everyone was seeing orange in the skies, in the water and in our faces – we ate so much herring, drank like fishes, and got wet n’wild in the pool. There was an awesome DJ that played Nigerian and Dutch music all night, and I danced in the rain while the song, “Do Me” blared – and had a cute Frenchman join me. This evening surely was one of the best highlights of my 2-month stay in Nigeria – and I am going to sign up for the 2009 Orange Party Games.

Sunday was a mellow one – the volunteers got together at our favourite hangout, AJs and had shawarma, chips, mineral and great laughs about the night before. Some of us were nursing hangovers, some of us ready to go back home. During the weekend, VSO volunteers had stayed with me at the VSO flat – now everyone was leaving and I was staying behind… alone. ALONE?????? *gulp* alone. I had become so accustomed to being with people – the intervenors, the volunteers, and friends – but now I was really, really, really on my own. I had to start hailing taxis on my own, find places, eat by myself and try to figure life in Abuja all by my fabulousness. And I didn’t mind. This was a great challenge. Zach and Erin had done their jobs well – taught me everything about environment, the people, transportation, and how to adapt to life in a village and a big city. I was ready for the ultimate test – living in Abuja by myself for an entire week before I left for home up North. I absolutely love challenges, don’t you?

Monday, I got ready for dinner with Timothy, an interpreter friend at AJs, then went off to the Nigerian Republican Party’s cocktail hour. Unfortunately, I arrived when the party ended! I thought it started at 8pm, but in fact it ended at 8pm. But I got in some networking – I met the president of the International Republican Institute, an organization that advocates a variety of issues and lobbies the Republicans in the government houses to pass laws in the IRI’s favor. Also gave my business card to some organizers and would see them the next day for the conference.
Up bright and early, I set off for the conference and met up with several other Deaf people who were members of the Nigerian Association for the Deaf, as well as a principal of the Zamfara State School for the Deaf, and a Deaf politician from Jos who worked with the state government of Plateau State. I didn’t know that there were Deaf people working on higher government levels and I was proud of that. From the looks of it, there were around 200 people sitting around a long, rectangular room, listening to each participant speak out on the issue of disabled people and how they are portrayed in the media. The topic of the conference was, “Disabilities in the Media”, it attracted very important figures in Nigerian politics and media. During a photo session, three representatives from the federal House of Representatives approached me and was astonished to find a Deaf Blind batura working in Nigeria and from the looks of it, they were excited about the possibility of a future for Deaf Blind children. Two out of three requested lunches with me when I returned to Abuja in July, and we swapped email addresses. Back to the conference room, the interpreters – Lola and Timothy – interpreted the entire conference continuously (Timothy for the group of Deaf people; Lola volunteered to be my tactile interpreter). They interpreted for what, 4 hours straight? In Nigeria, the availability and professionalism of interpreters is such a huge issue (see my previous journal entry). I decided to go up to the podium and give a few words about my experience using the media (vlogs, blogs, writing newspaper articles, going on TV and university press) to educate people on Deaf Blind topics and made a recommendation to the politicians to develop a relationship with the media, the government funding agency and disability organizations to produce TV commercials featuring disabled people being able. Round of applause for the only white woman that attended the conference.

After the conference ended and lunch break began, I was faced with a long line of people who wanted to meet me. I met several people with physical inabilities, three blind lawyers (it isn’t a joke, one of them works for the federal Justice department), Deaf people, and politicians. I received so many invitations to have lunch, and my business cards are running out. This was an excellent opportunity to network, as this was the place where lawmakers of Nigeria got together and discussed topics related to disability. And they’ve got Coco tattooed on their arm! Looking forward to meeting all of them in Abuja later on.

A southern chicken dinner at a fast food joint completed my dinner for the evening and Timothy dropped me off home. There wasn’t any NEPA for the past two days, and no water – the pump needed electricity to run – so I had to summon the guard to lug heavy buckets of water up the apartment stairs (in the dark, oops).

Wednesday wasn’t such a good day. I had gotten lost in a taxi who claimed he knew where the British Consulate was but kept venturing further and further away. I kept trying to point him in the right direction (it was a mere 3 minute drive from the flat) but this stubborn mule kept going, going, going… finally he asked for directions and 20 minutes later I arrived at the B.C.. I was rushed off the internet because of a long queue, and I forgot my flash drive when I got out of the consulate. I arrived at the VSO office and was told I needed to accompany a staff woman to the bank for some financial business, and what was supposed to be 10 minutes turned into an hour of confusion, wahala and frustration. I was beginning to feel unwell, sweating so much and feeling a little lightheaded. When I was done with my shopping (getting a few “city” items for the village where I call home) , I went to the flat and started feeling worse. I felt some flu-like symptoms, the chills, sore muscles, weak knees, could not sleep and the “bad” kind of sweat started pouring out of my pores. I became worried – what if I had contracted malaria? That really wasn’t something I wanted to have, I wanted to go home on Thursday the 1st of May and start working, living at home and starting my own routine.

My adventure to my first Nigerian hospital deserves its own journal entry – so you’ll have to be patient (no pun intended). I’m off to pop some vitamins, boil some green tea, lie down and read a good book. My trip home has been postponed until Sunday, so I better unpack and make myself comfortable. Abuja has me for at least a couple more days.

It really is amazing, how rapidly my network here in Nigeria has grown. I know people on federal, state and local levels of government, lawyers, doctors, headmasters of many deaf schools, ex-patriates, foreign businessmen, construction company, Deaf associations, an interpreting network, embassy people, a great group of volunteers and a good number of friendships. I really am blessed and fortunate to have had this opportunity to be able to settle in Nigeria well, especially when I am a Deaf Blind white woman. I foresee my next 22 months here to be productive, comfortable and eventful.

Tactile love and be in good health,
Coco

African Journal #10: Jos With The Most

April 27, 2008

Coming Together For Greater Reasons

So much has happened the past week, it would be so hard to sum this up in a short and sweet entry. Let’s put this simply: it was a bittersweet time I had spent in the Plateau State city of Jos.
I bid Jane and Akwanga adieu and hopped into a car with Julia and set off for Jos. Julia McGeown is a VSO volunteer based in Jos, works for the special needs school, Open Doors, and hails from England. She specializes in speech therapy for children with speech challenges as well as teaching children who are mentally retarded how to speak simple words to communicate. I wanted to visit Julia and Sebastian, another volunteer from Germany, and I went to Jos for another reason – to meet with the Deaf community and to speak at a meeting of Nigerian sign language interpreters. So it promised to be a busy week!
Once Julia and I got to her house which she shares with Sebastian, I was greeted by another cute housemate – Crumpet, a mixed-breed, white haired & patched African cat that Julia adopted in her first few months as a volunteer over a year ago. Crumpet is truly a house cat, he ventures outside the door just for a little bit, but prefers to stay in the security of the house – and away from the dogs that reside in the neighbourhood. I’m a cat lover and I think Crumpet felt that vibe, too, so he warmed up to me much to Julia’s surprise. The cat wasn’t very affectionate with strangers – rather, it would run away and hide. So it was a good thing I had won him over!
The next day promised a visit to Open Doors for the entire morning, and an afternoon of craft shopping in Jos. I met with Professor Joanne, a batura (white woman) who has lived in Nigeria for a long time, and she is the principal for Open Doors. Open Doors has classrooms for children who are severely to mildly retarded, physically challenged (Cerebral Palsy), autistic and learning disabled children. There are no Deaf children at the school, they go to the Otana School for the Deaf in town. Julia took me to visit the Level 1 class after my meeting with Prof, and when I got in the door of Level 1, a small boy hugged me, and grabbed my cane and went off. It was David, a 4 year old boy with Down’s Syndrome. I met other children who were between the ages of 4 to 6, some with severe mental retardation, some with C.P. and Down’s. Julia took out some flash cards, and the kids could pronounce words such as ‘goodbye’, ‘hello’ and so on. They were given instruments and we started singing these words on the flash cards, and played some pretty loud music that really probably didn’t make sense, it sure wasn’t the orchestra. When I tried to show David how to beat the xylophone, he whacked me in the middle of my eyes with the drumstick – ouch! Then he proceeded to beat me up with the drumstick (it was harmless and plastic) so I just moved my seat away and played some jingles with Miracle, a small girl with severe cerebral palsy. She had one of the most beautiful smiles I’d encountered in my life and it was easy to understand why her mother called her Miracle.
My visit at Open Doors continued, I ventured into Levels 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6 to meet a variety of students with disabilities, and they welcomed me with smiles and handshakes. Break time came, and Julia offered some tea and biscuits. An autistic teenaged boy named Neneameke came in – he snuck up behind me and grabbed my biscuit! I eventually got it back, and guarded my tea with care. What an eventful morning it was, and especially my visit ended with good news – the Prof had gotten me an invitation to attend a conference on Disabilities in the Media, in Abuja for the following Monday and Tuesday. She had connections, and pretty soon, many people organizing the event were happy to have me participate. It’s so great to network here in Nigeria, and I am pleasantly surprised at the growing number of important people that have crossed my paths. The more people I keep in touch with here, the more likely my work will be successful!

The lunch at Afri-One bakery was delicious – and I finished it off with a generous helping of mint chocolate ice cream. If you’re ever in Jos, this is a must-go place – the ice cream is really heavenly. Julia and I set off to meet Sebastian at his store, he volunteers as a Information Technician for an arts and handcrafts place that imports and exports local-made art to the States and Canada, as well as a small shop where tourists come in and buy real Nigerian crafts. I had some money left over from my salary and I was in the mood to buy several pieces of art for the house in Kebbi to spice it up. I bought beautiful handwoven straw bowls; a wooden hand painted African motif basket, fridge ornaments of Nigerian women in their exquisite dresses, a plate for hot dishes, and some beautiful handmade cards with elephants, giraffes and butterflies. Makes for great greeting cards to friends and family. The most wonderful thing happened – there was a herb shop next door, and having not had any fresh herbs (cilantro, mint, parsley, tarragon, rosemary) where I live in Kebbi, I was on cloud 9 when I saw the gardens! I bought a bag full of herbs and could not stop smiling like the Cheshire cat! Some cheap earrings were bought, then we were off to Julia’s home where we would just chill all night with Crumpet, have delicious omelettes with herbs for dinner and some quality time viewing the others’ pictures. Julia had worked in New Zealand, traveled Thailand solo (just like me!), vacationed in Ghana and a state south of Nigeria, Calabar. It was amazing to see the pictures and it made me want to book a trip to Calabar and Ghana in the new Year.

I didn’t really sleep soundly, the mossies kept at biting me and the faint breeze of Jos wasn’t enough to cool me off. In the morning, I walked in on Julia and Sebastian – and they didn’t look happy. Turns out, Crumpet had snuck into the kitchen and broke through the plastic wrapping of rat poison and ate three packets. Crumpet had become very sick and was shaking terribly – Julia was wracked with guilt for not getting rid of the rat poison when Crumpet moved back in (long story, but Crumpet was moved around several homes when Julia moved to another place with a roommate who was allergic to cats and had just returned two weeks ago). The search for a vet was fruitless, driving around town turned up no hits in their search for an animal doctor and Crumpet was breathing irregularly and shaking. They returned home as I was having my coffee and toast, and I saw Crumpet hobble off to my bedroom, unable to walk with one of his legs. It was so sad to see, and we were all very worried, and Julia didn’t think he would make it. Three packets of rat poison was surely lethal. Sebastian and Julia found a vet on the phone, and as per his advice, Julia fed Crumpet some palm oil through the mouth with a syringe with no needle. Crumpet was hiding under my bed, so I decided to lie down on the floor and try to comfort him. It was one of the most horrible sights I’d ever seen in my life – this cat was dying from the poison in the most horrid way. He gagged, limped, convulsed – and his tongue was stretched so far out. I started crying because it was so hard to see him suffer and wanted him to die right away rather than prolong this terrible side effect. Of course, we all wanted him to survive, but it was inevitable Crumpet was going to die. I became very emotional and continued crying – one of the reasons was because the night before, Crumpet hopped on my bed, stretched himself and looked at me. I told him – I am adopting you. Julia was going to leave in July and I told her I would take Crumpet in and bring him to Kebbi. Now that was not going to be possible, he had a few hours to live. Julia was devastated, and Sebastian was heartbroken and wanted to do something for Julia and the poor feline. I had to leave Julia with Crumpet in my bathroom (attached to my bedroom inside) while I went out to meet the Reverend Athenasius Dapul, who is hearing but has been involved with the Deaf community extensively in Jos. Sebastian drove me to Afri-One to meet the Rev, and I was off with the Rev to a meeting room full of Deaf people and educators for the Deaf who were eager to meet this Deaf Blind batura from America. I really was not in the mood to meet people, much less smile, because my mind was on poor Crumpet. I gave a short speech to the audience and greeted everyone, and bumped into some people I had met in Jos in March. When we were done, the Rev took me to his church 20 miles out of Jos, and when I got there I was surprised to find that there were no Deaf people, only 50 hearing people. The Rev sat me down and started his sermon – without sign language? I attended church growing up til my late teens, but one of the things I hated about church was lack of interpreters. It brought back bad memories of having to sit in the front pew not understanding anything and had to sit still for a full hour or so. I wanted to leave the church to go outside and text my friends, and Timothy, the interpreter. Timothy was supposed to meet me at the Deaf meeting but he was late getting in from Abuja, so the Rev took me in. I didn’t want to be rude, so I just sat in the front pew like a good Christian girl and daydreamed. Finally, after an hour inside the dark church, the Rev dropped me off home. It was a sad homecoming – Crumpet had died from fatal poisoning. He was laying in my bathroom – and no one wanted to move him. So we all went out to the Bacardi Lounge to have some pizza, beer and some laughs. It was a good time for all of us to try to forget the sadness for a little bit, and enjoy my visit in Jos. When I got back to the house, I truly did not want to sleep in my room – there was Crumpet, lifeless in the bathroom. Mattress was brought out to the living room and I suffered at the wings of the mossies, once again and dreamt of Crumpet.

Early in the morning, I had a visitor – a Mr. Jurmaine, who is an educator for the Deaf and is keen on working with the state to develop programs for Deaf Blind children. Prof, Julia’s boss, told him about me and he was so eager to meet me so he came over for tea and we talked about his network, how he came to want to work with DB children and we agreed to meet again during the summer and plan a meeting with other educators who want to develop the same program.
I went off to the University of Jos with Timothy to attend a meeting hosted by the Association of Sign Language Interpreters in Nigeria (ASLIN). They invited me to be the keynote speaker, talking about what kind of interpreter agencies there are in America (RID, local and state agencies, freelancers), the Code of Ethics, how money is funneled from the government and private sectors, and so on. Around 20 people attended, most were interpreters for the Deaf and around 5 were Deaf, wanting to become Deaf Interpreters. I promised them I would develop a dossier of people in America who would help them take off. ASLIN is not an official agency, however, they are working hard to ensure it happens. Also, the University of Jos has a department for Special Education and a lot of people go there to become educators for the Deaf. Now, the U of Jos is seeking to develop ASL classes, and a field for interpreting. If you know anyone that could contribute to this progress, please email me.

After the meeting, I rode the motorcycle to meet Julia and Sebastian at the gate. They had just gone up the barren valleys of Jos to bury Crumpet. We were ready to set off for Abuja, where we would indulge in the annual Queen’s Day festivities at a posh apartment building hosted by the Dutch embassy. The Orange Party was definitely one of the best highlights of my time in Nigeria… I’ll save that for another journal entry.

Life can be so random: it can either go cruelly or peacefully. I hope I go peacefully, and without conflict. Rest in peace, little fella.

Tactile love,
Coco