Farewell to 2008 (by Sylph)

We have successfully made it to the end of another year and what a year it was. A year filled of memories, new beginnings, welcome and unwelcomed adventures, the promise of hope and challenges that would have only made us stronger. 2008 was definitely a year to remember. A year in which the first black President was elected in the USA and the long awaited water taxis, graced our shores and made its maiden voyage to San Fernando. This has certainly been a year for new beginnings.

A year that started off somewhat quiet and almost unsuspect, ended up being life transforming, shaking up lives throughout the world. This transformation was far reaching and could be felt in almost every aspect of human life. From the severe change in the weather patterns, resulting in an overly active hurricane season, to the worldwide financial and economic crisis and the drastic fall in oil prices. But despite it all we plod on, determined to succeed. Because in this life, survival is not just for the fit, but for those that endureth to the end.

As we come to the end of the year and reflect on the all that 2008 have brought to and in some instances taken from us, I hope we take an opportunity to truly understand and appreciate this thing we call life and the things that matter to us. I say this because at the start of 2008 even though I had an appreciation for life, I was not truly appreciative or even cognisant of all of the things that really mattered to me. You see, I had fallen into the trap called comfort zone, where everything seemed to be alright and I had little worry in the world. For me most things were readily accessible and I lived a simply life and enjoyed the simply pleasures that it afforded me. Then things suddenly changed and what was previously a simply pleasure in life became a non- existent entity and I was left with an emptiness that could not be filled by my new reality. But whenever one is faced with adversity, innovation is always a positive remedy. And in life one must always remember that we are graced with the ability to choose, so we should always choose wisely. For with every decision we take there is always a repercussion and the true test of a good decision maker is their ability to withstand the repercussions.

So now I stand firmly by my decision to travel to Nigeria, for it has taught me to be far more appreciative in life and to acknowledge and accept my new reality for what it is. Even though that reality might be harsh and brutish at times, it is the reality that has already begun to shape what lies ahead. And I most certainly look forward to the future and all that it has in store. As I am certain that it will provide me with new options and opportunities to 'Live the Life' that I am destined for. Farewell to 2008 and the good times and adversities that it might have brought my way.

My New Best Friend - SKYPE (by Slyph)

When I first arrived in Nigeria the available modes of communication was nothing short of LIMITED. All that was available to me was the Internet, so I had to make the best us of it. And to be honest that came with its challenges, because within the first month, the number of times the internet service failed to work were too numerous to mention. My head still hurts thinking about it. Every other day I was running about the office asking for a number to call or someone to shoot because the service was just not working. The first month was trying times. We suffered days when the service simply would not work between the hours of 9am-5pm. Now one would think that those hours would have been working hours, but not for Mr. Internet. He would stroll into action anytime after 5pm, sometimes around 6pm if he was in the mood and some days he just did not even bother and would be a no show. What was even more disturbing to me, was that no one else at the mission seemed to notice or was even affected by the constant absense of the Internet and that was honestly confusing to me. I was running around like a fish out of water and everyone else was wondering what was I referring to. How do they get by, how do they exist like this??? Needless to say, as soon as I found out who the culprit was to address my Internet whoos, the two of us became immediate best friends. His number is now on my speed dial and to date we have not had a problem. I have even got the mission to upgrade to wireless. So now I am surfing the net in comfort, anywhere in the building.

But if one ever finds themselves in a situation where the Internet is their only means of communication and they are millions of miles away from home, family, friends, dog, cat and the like. I have no word of advise and trust me when I say this, because this service has been put to the test and it has passed on each and every occasion. That word and let this be the word of the day, is SKYPE...... Skype has been the saving grace of my posting experience to be honest. Because I can assure you many days the only reason I get out of bed was to communicate with loved ones via Skype to Skype Internet calls. It is the BOMB.... Better than slice bread. My world became a better place the day I discovered Skype and I tell you no lie.

Now prior to my departure from Trinidad, I had heard about Skype and that it offered the option of making free calls via the internet, however, I was in my comfort zone and everyone I needed to communicate with was at my figure tips. So I was not interested in the hype about Skype. I could not even spell the word, S-K-H-P-E. What were they referring too??? But take a girl out her comfort zone and the mad confusion begins. And she starts to scramble and search for anything that would provide her with some resemblance of normalcy in her life. That search led to SKYPE..... OH HAPPY DAY, OH HAPPY DAY and what a happy day it was.

For those of you who do not know, Skype is an Internet service that provides free Skype to Skype Internet phone calls, calls to landlines and other services are provided at a fee. They also provide a range of other services such as Instant messaging and Conference calls, however I am not trying to do a Skype Promo, so you can check out the website for further details. LOL.....

All you need to get started is a computer, preferable one outfitted with a webcam and micro phone to allow for video calls (most recommended, my favourite, yummy), Internet of course (preferably high speed, to ensure high quality reception) and to download Skype, which is free of charge. And you are OFF..... All set and ready to communicate and I assure you, there will be no regrets.

I downloaded Skype within days of my arrival in Nigeria and I have been hooked from day one. Hence my confusion in the first month when the internet simply failed to work, because a girl needs to communicate.

But now with a less interrupted Internet supply I can safely say that there is no better way to stay in touch with friends and loved ones than via Skype. It is economical, cost effective and readily available, so what more can a girl ask for when millions of miles away. Give it a try, I can guarantee you would not be disappointed.

Don't dis the hype about SKYPE....

Tighten Your Belts and Party Promotions (by Sylph)

Yesterday I rolled out of bed a bit later than usual, but I still managed to maintain my usual routine, which included reading the Trinidad and Tobago daily newspapers. But on this occasion I became a little disturbed by an article, which discussed the impact the Prime Minister's recent call for citizens to 'tighten their belts' might have on the upcoming Carnival 2k9 celebrations. In this article, one of Trinidad's longstanding party promoters and I say that because he has been standing for as long as I have been around, was highly upset by the Prime Minister's call, because in his mind Trinidad and Tobago was NOT experiencing a recession. And in light of such, he described the PM's comments as untimely as it posed a major threat to the profitability of Carnival 2k9. Or does it really?????

Now I ask this question because in recent times, carnival and carnival associated events have become increasingly EXPENSIVE and EXCLUSIVE. Gone are the days of Jab-Jab and ole mas and chipping down the road to steelband music and live brass bands. Or a backyard carnival fete or blocko. Welcome to the new dispensation of 5,000 strong masqueraders, gyrating to soca music from large DJ trucks, in all inclusive bands, where you are provided with everything under the sun, including a wee-wee truck, so now you never have to leave your band. In the same vein, most carnival events have now opted to become all inclusive, or offer an all inclusive section, where patrons pay one fixed price, which includes everything one can desire, from food and drinks, to memorabilia items. But by so doing each year there is a significant increase attached to the price tag. And who bears this increase???? The patrons of course.

Carnival whose beginnings stemmed from the former slaves mimicking the behaviour of the french aristocracy and traditionally a 'grass-roots' celebration, has today turned into a multi-million dollar industry, almost out of pockets-reach of the grassroot society, whose ancestors were the ones that shaped the true traditions of Trinidad CARNIVAL..... The growth of the industry is most certainly welcomed, but one has to wonder if this growth is at the expensive of the very society that shaped it.

Carnival events in Trinidad and Tobago have grown from strenght to strength and the range of events now being offered have also increased. Such events begin from as early as Boxing Day, December 26th each year and run until Ash Wednesday. One can be certain to find something to do everyday during the carnival season. The only question would be whether one can afford such events.

At no time have I heard a promoter or bandleader discuss that the recent fall in carnival arrivals was as a result of the steady increase in the cost of carnival events and the price of costumes. Added to which the increasing cost of fuel have made air travel quite expensive. I however, know quite a number of persons that had to turn down carnival 2k8 because of these factors.... I do admit that the crime situation in the country has been quite alarming and if improved will be an added incentive to attract visitors to our shores. But the upsurge in crime has been little disincentive to visitor arrival as compared to the affordability of events.

The issue that stood out for me in yesterday's article though was the promoter's attempt to imply that the Prime Minister's call for conservative spending, in a time when not only Trinidad and Tobago, because from reports, all countries in the world will be either directly or indirectly affected by the global financial crisis, was unnecessary. How can this be??? How can any right-thinking citizen, knowing all that is going on in the world today, financially and otherwise, think that a call for citizens to reduce spending is untimely? How can any citizen in a time when commodities prices and the rate of inflation is so high, be disgruntled by a call to tighten ones belt? Would he have preferred for this call to come after the IMF is called in to restructure the economies expenditure, as was done in the 1980's? I most certainly pray that the country does not have to resort to such measures. I am thankful however that from all reports, citizens have responded to the Prime Minister's call, as retailers have all noted a reduction in overall spending and the nations banks have reported an increasing in savings and a reducing demand for loans. I was also pleased to note that at the beginning of December the Central Bank announced a decline in the rate of inflation, which had been on a steady rise for all of 2008.

So I ask, is this displeasure with the Prime Minister's call stemming from a strong background in global finance, so the promoter was most certain that the recession would not affect our economy? An economy whose main revenue earner so happens to be oil and gas. The same oil that is selling at a record low price. Or is this a case of a promoter who lacks a little vision to restructure his affairs to target a new market for the upcoming season?

I am one person that is thankful for the Prime Minister's call and I most certainly believe that the Trinidad and Tobago economy needed it at this time. I am also highly certain that Carnival 2k9 will be a success despite the call to tighten our belts. Because if is one thing trinis love to do is fete and have a good time. Despite this however, I can assure you that consumers are now becoming more wise and have started to demand greater value for their dollar.

So rather than wine and complain about what has already been done (or announced, by the PM), I think promoters should now review their approach to marketing their events. Because of rising crime levels and road fatalities many persons are now opting to party closer to home, however, for some that might not be an option. So rather than promoting four or five major fetes in the traditional venues, which normally lead to patrons standing in hours of traffic to get to and from the event and uncertainty as to whether their vehicles will be safe while at the event, maybe promoters can begin to explore the option of having smaller, more secured events in non-traditional areas, taking the event closer to the targeted patron. This way patrons will travel shorter distances from home and will get away from the traffic and might reduce the occurrence of road fatalities.

Remember when fetes, such as Block 5, St. Joseph Village and Valasyn were popular..... You did not have to go far away from home, or worry about the safety of your vehicle and you were guaranteed to have a good time.

I am certain that once promoters re-evaluate the true factors affecting their events they can come up with innovative ways to attract patrons. And at the end of the day, both promoter and patron will be happy.

Christmas In Abuja (by Slyph)

I know most people were worried and I myself was somewhat worried, as to how Christmas Day might have turned out for mom and I, but to my great surprise we both had a lovely day.

Christmas in Nigeria was most certainly different. I cannot speak as to how Nigerians celebrate the holiday, however I can provide an insight as to how a true trini celebrates Christmas.

I spent most of Christmas Eve online chatting with friends, exchanging Christmas greetings and good wishes to one and all. At 7:30pm I had the privilidge of wishing my girl in Delhi, Merry Christmas, because based on our geographical dispersement, she was the first in the batch to welcome the day. I would be the second, however as the golden hour rolled around I swiftly abandoned my friends, switched off my laptop and jumped straight into bed, almost as though I was 6 years old and my mother had chased me to bed before santa's arrival. I rolled out of bed around mid-morning and to be honest the day started off bleak, PRETTY DAMN BLEAK.... Because all that was going through my head was thoughts of home and my family and friends, and freshly baked bread and ham, and turkey and sorrel and ginger beer, and pastelles, and black cake, and punch-a-creme, and parang and the gifts and gift giving, the thoughts were too many and the reality was BLEAK. Because none of the above was taking place around me. I pulled the covers up and attempted to go back to asleep. Because for sure this was a nightmare that I had rolled into. So lets try again for some sweet dreams. I toss and I turn and the sleep would not come, so I roll over again and attempt to go online to say hi to my peeps. Turn on the computer, plug in the charger, no response... Dear ole charger decides he is not in the mood to work. WHAT THE HELL!!!!! Of all the days you would decide to stage a one-man protest, you would select CHRISTMAS DAY???? Okay. In light of such, I swiftly check my email and turn off my laptop, because now I have to save up the battery power for a time when it is really needed. So I decided to attempt to fall asleep again. Pull up the covers and repeat the same process, toss and turn, toss and turn, this time placing the pillow on my head. TOSS AND TURN some more.

Eventually my cell phone rang and like magic my Christmas began. It was my nephew calling to wish me MERRY CHRISTMAS. So we spoke for a while and exchanged greetings and I complained about my charger and he advised me on how to seek redress and we spoke some more and he spoke to mom and then to me again and I complained about the charger some more, because by now you should know that my computer, coupled with the internet is my life line. The only other thing that can match up to those two right now is SKYPE. Nuff props to SKYPE..... This service has been a life saver. You will be certain to read more about it in the not to distant future..... Back to the phone call.... So we chat and chat and then I realise that he was calling via my favourite service SKYPE. So I asked, don't you have a webcam, why haven't you called via my computer???? Oh, I am not online...... The damn charger not working. So I put it on anyway.... Where there is a will, there is a way!!!!! So I hang up my cellphone and we make contact via SKYPE and we begin a video call and this is when Christmas Day came to life. Thanks to my new best friend - SKYPE, mom and I were able to share in my sister and her family Christmas morning celebrations and was right there for the exchange and unwrapping of presents. It was just wonderful. Because as a child that was the highlight of Christmas. Getting up early on Christmas morning, just before sunrise to open presents as a family, to ensure that all the wrappings were out before the garbage truck passed. LOL..... And this would be followed by family breakfast. There was no garbage truck to run down this Christmas, however sharing the moment with my sister and her family was definitely worth the while. And the icing on the cake was that the charger started to work, just as the battery power was about to run out on our conversation. So we were back in business.

After sharing that christmas moment, I proceeded to make all of my necessary phone calls and emails, while mom prepared lunch. Thankfully I was able to reach all of my family and loved ones, so my mind was at ease, we were all having a MERRY CHRISTMAS.

Mom and I shared a pleasant Christmas lunch with one of the locally recruited staff at the mission and she shared with us some of the christmas traditions in Nigeria. All in all, we had a wonderful day. We spent the rest of the afternoon online, mom listening to hear favorite trini radio station WACK 90.1 FM and I stayed in touch with family and friends. It was definitely a special day.

Christmas is about bringing new hope to life and this year hope was most certainly needed to come alive. And it did.....

May the miracle of the first Christmas always fill your heart with joy. Merry Christmas to one and all.

My Failed Attempt to Travel to Ghana

Last week I remember giving a friend advise to avoid getting oneself in situations where they might feel as though their back is against a wall. In life one must always have OPTIONS or an escape route. LOL!!!! Well this weekend I found myself in one of those situations, but thankfully logic prevailed and an escape route was found.

Since I arrived in Abuja, I was informed that some of the members of staff wanted to travel to Ghana for Christmas. Okay, not a problem.... In time, I began singing the same song that we were traveling to Ghana for the christmas holidays. So slowly, we began putting things in place. At first I was uncertain as to how we were going to carry out this plan, because from time to time the plans seemed to changed. And I am new to Nigeria, so I was not in a position to take charge of the planning process, because I had no idea what the planning would entail.

First item on the agenda was the issue of transportation. How are we getting to Ghana???? I was informed that the cost of air travel was too expensive and as a result was not a feasible option. Okay, so what were our other options???? We can travel via road.... Not a problem... In whose vehicle, who will be the driver? I was informed that one of the mission's drivers was from Ghana and he was heading home for christmas, as his daughter was getting married. Very good... All we need to do is find a vehicle and we are off.... or so I thought...

Coming from a different type of society where there are relatively easier access to services and various modes of transport, I suggested that we explored the option of renting a vehicle, because we already had a driver for the trip. So we begun to ask whether or not there we vehicle rental services in Nigeria. The response came back in the affirmative. How much will this cost??? We contacted the car rental company and a representative came over to our office to explain the services they offer. Now, when I suggested renting a vehicle all I was referring to was, contact a car rental company, find out the cost and once it was affordable, we rent a vehicle for our use, for the duration of our stay in Ghana and on our return, the vehicle is returned to the company. Seems simple enough to me......

The representative comes over and attempts to break down the services the company offers and the cost. However, there is a stark difference between the service we had in mind and what was being offered to us. The main difference was that the vehicle was being rented with a driver. Now if you do recall, I did mention that we already had a driver and if it was a driver we required, we would have called a taxi service.... What we were looking for was a vehicle for RENT or LET (local slang for renting). So the representative from the rental company is sitting in our office outlining what the service will entail and the cost attached. There was a flat cost for the rental of the vehicle, however, in addition to the rental cost, there was also a stipend for the driver, plus seeing that we had plan to travel outside of Nigeria, there was also the cost of accommodation and meals for the driver, which we did not want or request. So we informed the kind representative that we already had a competent driver and did not require one from the company and we were informed that vehicles were rented with driver, take it to leave it. So you don't have to ask, that option was out the door.

Option number two..... The ABC Bus company....

We then decided to explore the option of taking a bus to Ghana. We go down to the bus company and received information on the cost and duration of the trip, as well as the date to return and make the necessary booking and payment for the trip. None of us however, have ever travelled via bus in Nigeria, so their was an element of uncertainty as to the reliability of the service.

We continue to make the necessary arrangements, for example obtaining the necessary entry visas. In order to travel to Ghana by road, one has to enter two countries, Benin and Togo. So in addition to getting entry visas for Ghana, we also had to apply for visas for those two countries. So visas we obtained.

Accomodation. For this we contacted our Honorary Consul in Ghana and requested his assistance in arranging appropriate accomodation for our stay. This item was taken cared of without a glitch. So we had a place to stay. However, there was still an element of gloom as to the issue of transportation. How were we getting to Ghana????

Now in order to make the trip via road to Ghana, we would have to travel from Abuja to Lagos, which we were advised was seven hours away. On arrival in Lagos we would spend the night and depart for Ghana early the following morning. The drive from Lagos to Ghana was estimated to be approximately five hours. Okay, sounds long and tedious, but do-able, so lets give it a try. Are we really going to chance traveling via bus, which is something we have never done? Our driver insist that he was driving himself to Ghana in his vehicle, so whatever mode of transportation we selected he would meet us on our arrival in Ghana.

Now all along the planning stages, I was very excited and eager to travel to Ghana, as everyone has indicated that Ghana was very different from Nigeria and that things were more affordable. So that would give me an opportunity to shop. For that reason alone I was excited. However, for some reason three days before our scheduled departure that excitement escaped me and my mind became heavy about the trip. I began to have second thoughts and became very uncertain about the trip. And by this time our mode of transportation had changed yet again, we were now going with the driver, as we will all be together on the road and he assured that he would arrive in Lagos in a shorter time that the Bus. So why all this uncertainty all of a sudden???? Where did the excitement go??? To be honest, I cannot say, but I can assure you, it was gone, long gone. And I was left worried and pacing about, do I really want to put myself through such a long drive? There were so many elements of uncertainty and unanswered questions surrounding this trip. Why, was the only question going through my head!!!! Why? Why? Why?

We were scheduled to depart Abuja on Saturday morning at 6:30am to arrive in Ghana on Sunday afternoon. On Friday evening however, I was informed that our departure will be delayed. We will now be departing on Sunday morning. I breathe a sign of relief. Maybe this is a sign....

6:30am Sunday morning rolls along and we all jump into the vehicle and we are off to Ghana, well Lagos - where we would over night. If the journey is estimated to be seven hours we should arrived there around 2-3pm. The journey was long, real LONG and rough, very ROUGH and to add insult to injure the vehicle in which we were traveling did not have air condition. Now to be honest that was a factor we did not consider while making arrangments for the trip. However, it is something that I will never overlook while in Nigeria. We normal travel in the mission's official vehicle, which is air condition ready, so that is never an issue. So to be honest, we are never really exposed to the real elements of the road. However on this occasion with no A/C and windows down, everything from the side of the road was making its way into the vehicle. Smoke, dust, dirt, sand, flies and little insects, exhaust fumes, you name it and it was flying in on us. By the time we made it to Lagos and got out of the vehicle, we were covered in a thick layer of grime...... We were unrecognisable..... My lungs were FILLED and SCREAMING what did I do to deserve this!!!!!!!

And the best part is that the drive that was estimated as seven hours, took more like twelve hours. We left the residence prompty at 6:30 am making two rest stops and two stops to re-fuel. However, we never arrived in Lagos until minutes to seven in the evening. It took us five additional hours to get there...... My legs and butt were screaming. SCREAMING!!!!!! What did we do to deserve this!!!!!!!!! There was very little feeling in my lower region...

So we get to a little hotel and check in, but right about now the only focus is to shower and get the reminants of our days travel off of us. After showing however, reality stepped in. Am I really going to put myself through this gruesome journey again. The drive to Ghana from Lagos was estimated at five hours, however the drive from Abuja to Lagos was estimated at seven hours and look how long that took. All of the uncertainty and questions immediately returned. Why didn't I listen to the little voice of wisdom in my head and remain at home? How did I get myself involved in this? This was not my plan. Here I am going along once again, with someone else plan. And I ask myself again, WHY???? How am I to get myself out of this? Here I am, in a strange man's land, away from everything that might be familar to me, unaware of the surroundings that I am in or how to get out of. I begin to feel as though my back was against a wall...... For me that is one of the worst feelings ever, because I strongly believe that "In Life one must always have Options"....... One should always attempt to avoid situations that may limit their ability to make a decision and move on to something else. Particularly in situations that can be life changing, such as relationships, education or career. Never allow a person or thing to trap you into a situation, because later on you may just regret it. And in life we should not regret the experiences we have.

Well, after great debate and much self searching, it was clear to me that I was in a situation in which I did not want to be and had to find the closest exit. One call to the receptionist provided me with a glimmer of hope. I enquired from her what was the possibility of making flight arrangments to Abuja at the airport and she assured me that it was possible. Only then was I able to get some rest.

Early Monday morning, I had to deliver the dreaded news that I was avoiding for almost a week. However it was for the best, so it had to be said. "Mom and I will not be continuing to Ghana!!!!" There was silence, the others were shocked. But even though I knew the news would come as a surprise and might have hurt some feelings, I had to do what was most sensible for mom and I in the long run and that was to return to Abuja. So I requested to be taken to the airport so that I could attempt to make flight arrangements for our return. Now I must say that this was an extremely brave and bold move. Because I was in a strange place and so far my experience has proven that Nigeria is like no other place that I have visited, so you can never know what to expect. But I had made up my mind and I was sticking with my decision. We were heading back to Abuja and nothing was going to stop us.

So with disappointment in their voices we parted ways, as we were dropped off at the domestic airport in Lagos to make our way back to Abuja. I must say though that the process was quite smooth and happened with out a glitch. Purchasing an airline ticket to Abuja from Lagos was the easiest transaction that I have done since my arrival in Nigeria and I am not trying to be sacaristic. There was no hassle, no worry, no fuss, no fight.... I walked up to the counter, enquired when was the next available flight and the cost, paid, ticket was issued, we were directed to the check in line, we checked in, waited, boarded the flight and returned safely. And I am now able to tell the story.

So mom and I will be spending Christmas 2008 in Abuja, Nigeria and I am looking forward to it. It will be a Christmas like no other, because we are millions of miles away from both family and friends, however, its home for now and where I would prefer to be. Merry Christmas to one and all. Do have a Blessed Holiday Season.

The Indigo Dye Pit - Kano (by Sylph)

Have you ever wondered where those lovely tied-died african printed fabric comes from? Well I had the pleasure of visiting an indigo dye pit in Kano, a northern Nigerian state, where the young men painstakingly prepare fabrics in an array of patterns and sizes for sale. At the dye pits we were exposed to the various processes that lead to the final product. Processes ranging from mixing the dye from all natural materials, tying the fabric, the dipping of the fabric, ironing using one of the more unique and traditional methods, which also gives the material its permanent shine and the finished product.

The area in which the dye pits were located was almost like an open yard, just off a busy street in downtown Kano. The area was busy and bustling with persons, mainly men, all engaged in different stages of the tie dye process.

We were greeted by a guide who first explained to us how the indigo dyes were prepared. In his hand he held a enamel bowl containing three smaller containers, which had the main ingredients of the indigo dye. They are indigo, ash and potassium. This combination is mixed with water in wells dug deep in the earth and left to ferment for a period of four weeks. The longer the solution ferments, the deeper the colour will be. After fermentation, the solution is ready for the dyeing process. This solution can be used for a period of one year.

Then we were shown the tying process. Where the fabric is tied tightly with thread at various points. This process acts as a retardant to the dye, prohibiting it from penetrating the tied area. On completion of the tying process the fabric is then ready to be dipped into the fermented solution. The tied fabric is hand dipped for approximately eight hours into the dying pits. So for eight hours someone sits at the edge of the pit, dipping and opening for air to enter and then dipping again until the fabric has completely absorbed the dye. The process is repeated over and over during this eight hour time frame. So he sits and dips and opens, rotating the fabric each time to ensure that it absorbs the dye. Dipping and opening, dipping and opening..... What a tedious process.

On completion of the dying process the fabric is hung out to dry under the radiant sun. When the fabric is completely dried, the thread is removed to display the wonderful patterns and designs produced by the tying and dyeing process. Then the fabric is sent to press. When we were told that we were going to the pressing room, I was mindful that their methods were extremely traditional, so I was not looking for any conventional methods, such as a Phillips Steam Iron. I was probably thinking along the lines of the traditional coat pot and iron, used back in the 50's in Trinidad. At no point could I have ever imagine what I was about to see.

We entered the little pressing room and stood in amazement, because sitting on the ground before our eyes was a room filled of young men, no more than 14 years of age, beating the fabric with HUGE pieces of Mahogany wood. YES, I said BEATING!!!!!! I was amazed. Because I really could not have anticipated what was before me. Not even if someone had told me before, would I have believed.

The room had two pieces of what looked like tree trunks lying on the ground, almost dugged into the earth and six boys, three on either side sat along side the trunks, armed with their hammers in the hand, beating the living daylights out of the fabric. A continuous beating..... They hammered and hammered away at the fabric. It was a sight to behold. Because trust me, this is something you cannot imagine. It was unbelievable, truly amazing. And what made it even more amazing was the weight if the pieces of wood. The wood was HEAVVVVYYYYYY............. We could barely lift the damn thing, far more beat anything with it. I must say those young men are strong. Damn Strong..... Because they did it with such easy, almost with smiles on their faces. It was truly an amazing sight.

We were informed that this method of ironing not only smooth the fabric, but also gave it a permanent shine. One that will last even after several washes.

After the fabric was pressed it was either packaged for sale or made into garments for sale. So on any given day at the dye pits one can find an assortment of tie dye items and garments to suit your preference.

The finished product for sale...

My mother making an attempt at the pressing process...

Why do we complain??? (by Sylph)

I have come to realise that in life we take too much for granted. Nothing however, brought this point home more than coming to Nigeria.

Nigeria is a country rich of both natural resources and human capital. This country has an abundance of oil, natural gas and minerals such as coal, iron ore, lead/zinc, bitumen, talc and the list goes on and on.... Though, many of which are either unexploited or underutilised. The economy has benefited tremendously from their oil industry and they are yet to truly explore the potential of their natural gas. However, despite the abundance of resources and the availability of human capital (as the population of Nigeria is approximately 140 million), the quality of life for the average man remains relatively low.

Life in Nigeria for the average man can be described as nothing less than short and brutish and the life expectancy is relatively low. Despite all of this however, the Nigerian spirit of entrepreneurship is alive, as they are aware that they have to do what it takes to survive. That I admire about them..... All day long you will see them hustling their trade, whatever that trade might be. And I will admit, these Nigerians are rather skillful. On any given day once you venture outside your gate, within no time you will be able to find someone offering fresh fruits for sale, or peeled sugarcane (why peeled, I cannot say and its peeled and transported open to the elements, in a wheel barrow... umhhh, germs yummy), or a man carrying a sewing machines on their heads, making clinging sounds with his scissors in their hands, or shoe repair men, carrying a makeshift wooden box, filled with rubber, glue and nails, you can even find men carrying nail clippers and barbering sets, offering manicure, pedicure and haircut services. You name it and I am certain you can find it on the streets of Nigeria.

Anything old and rustic, you can find it here. Like old Singer sewing machines with the wooden encasement and cast iron stands, old books and magazines, old brands of products that were discontinued in Trinidad, like Team soft drink in the tall glass bottle and Pear Soap. Or what about a kerosene stove, which was used back in the 60's. This is the place of antiques.... Old electronics that were deemed unserviceable in other parts of the world, some how find their way here and are put into use. Nigerians are clever with their hands, so they are quick to repair and service anything. With a population of 140 million there is a market for almost anything in this country. In addition to which access to basic utilities, such as electricity, running water and waste disposal is not readily available to all. Yet still the average man gets by and he does so with very little complaints.

We recently went on a trip outside of the capital and trust me when I say, you have not seen Nigeria if you did not leave the capital, Abuja. Because the capital is relatively new and that is reflected in its lay-out, design and infrastructure. However, the average Nigerian has not even seen the capital, Abuja, so for one to get a true glimpse of life in this country, one must leave the city and venture outside to the villages and the bordering states. All I could think of while we drove was where do they get running water from????? And I am not even referring to water to bathe or wash their clothes, but more importantly, water to drink and prepare a meal. Because to me water is one of the most important and vital resources for human survival. A man can survive comfortably with out food for weeks, even months at a time, once he has a clean supply of water. However, the absence of a clean water would reduce his chances of survival. Another alarming issue which I came across on this trip was high level of pollution or rather garbage. Apparently, there is no proper waste disposal plan in this country, so you will see garbage littered everywhere. On the streets, in the markets, along the road ways, in the drains, everywhere. Garbage, garbage, everywhere. Now this is something which I noticed even within the capital, however on a smaller scale. In addition to the garbage, because of the absence of a waste disposal plan and limited water supplies, there is also the issue of human waste. People go to the bathroom to relieve themselves anywhere. So help me do this maths - limited access to water + garbage+human waste = disease. Well at least in my mind.......

The remarkable thing to me though is that the Nigerian people do not complain. At least the ones that I have encountered. Despite all of the adversities that they are affected by on a daily basis, they still manage to strive for greatness and provide for themselves and their families. At no point while I have been in Nigeria have I heard anyone complaining that the Government has not provided them with opportunity or have mismanaged the economy. At no point, have I seen young men sitting idly by blaming the Government for their misfortune, or waiting for Government handouts. Because, to be honest they know that it will never come. So they get up each day and get what is due to them. However little it might be....

Please do not get me wrong. I am not trying to imply that the Government does not have a crucial role to play in alleviating the problems that are faced in this country. For many of the problems plaguing this society can only be solved by the powers that be. However, what cannot be ignored is the self reliance of the people in making ends meet. Because, I came from society where all you hear is complaints. Complaints about the Government, about their policies and employers, about everything. You hear complaints about the sun too hot, or the rain falling too long. Or there is too much traffic to go out and the prices are too high. There are no jobs and the crime levels are on the increase. No one stops to think about the less fortunate, or that the cost of living in Trinidad, although high and can be better managed by the authorities, is still relatively cheaper than in most countries of the world. Or who are the ones that are actually breeding the criminals in the society? Maybe its the Government!!!!!!!!!!!!

Very few persons will attempt to examine the situation and realise that as a responsible citizen we too have a role to play in the development of the society. No true society is built by the sweat of the politicians alone. Where is the civil society involvement and I am not referring to the Trade Unions or one or two NGOs. When will the average Trinidadian realise that their existence is not dependent upon the Government. Can anyone tell me when?

I recently had to endure a friend complaining about the pressures of going to school overseas, in a temperate country and how fed-up she was of the sacrifice and I could not help but wonder about the millions of people who would give anything for such an opportunity. Mind you this very friend, left her job in Trinidad willingly to pursue this degree. But oh how quickly we forget and begin to complain.

I have done my fair share of complaining in the past, however I am now challenging myself to be more appreciative to what life throws my way. Because life has been good to me and has thrown quite a bit my way. So instead of complaining that the cup is half empty, I have decided to enjoy the remnants of the drink.

Who de hell is Hashimoto? (by Beenie Girl)

They say everything happens for a reason . . . My girl in New Delhi is known for her CAST-IRON stomach and so when they sent her to India I was not worried for her. To date she has not, I repeat, HAS NOT gotten ‘delhi belly’ and she has been there for what, a month now? So Delhi is the place for her.

Well I am still tryin to figure out why they sent my girl Sylph to Nigeria, but as soon as I figure that out I will let her know!**smile**

But I think I am beginning to figure out one of the reasons why I got sent to Cuba!

So I went to one of the hospitals here in Havana called Cira Garcia. Now, let me qualify this by saying, I do NOT like going to hospitals. I do not like the look of them, the smell of them, just the word hospital and I get antsy. I got dengue fever one time a few years ago and I refused to go to the hospital. In fact I think they were praying I would lose consciousness so that they could take me there without me knowing. I kept saying I would rather die comfortably in my own bed than go to the hospital and suffer. ESPECIALLY to the one in Tobago! (Ay, I am from Tobago so I could knock the hospital eh, I don't want nobody else bad mouthing the hospital, yuh hear!)
Added to which I have had some BAD experiences and also those of people close to me of people doing real nonsense to us in hospitals, so i have a kind of phobia.

Of course you would think that for someone who does not like hospitals that I would not get sick so all the time, but that is not the case with me - I tend to catch every cold that goes by, I had measles TWICE as a child (yea you're supposed to get those diseases once, right?), I'm allergic to everything except OXYGEN... As my girl in Delhi says "I ain't finish bake," I came out too early, so some things probably needed a bit more time!

Needless to say I have not been feeling well for a few weeks now, and I did go to see a doctor when I was at home, but with no relief even after I finished the entire course of medication they gave me, I thought let me go to the hospital here, but only only because I really was not feeling well, so I didn't want to risk it, plus I figured everyone is raving about the Cuban health system so let me give it a whirl. So I walked in with the results of the tests I took back home as well as the medication I was taking (medication which really made my tummy hurt by the way) To make a long story quite short, after the doctor laughed at the test results I brought with me and told me to throw away the medicine, within a week I had some new tests done and I was diagnosed with this condition called Hashimoto's Disease. Basically my immune system does not recognise my thyroid gland as part of my body anymore, so my antibodies are attacking it.
So let's say my immune system and my thyroid gland were living together all the time happily, but then one night poor Mr. Thyroid woke up to get some water to drink and Mrs. Immune System heard the noise, came down in the dark and, thinking it was an intruder, start hitting him in the head with a cricket bat, but no matter how much Mr. Thyroid says "it's meeee, ur boo" Mrs. Immune System is so bent on getting rid of intruders, that she keeps hitting the poor man. Of course this is not even close to what I was told was wrong with me back home, and from what I have read about this condition on the Internet I am lucky to have found out I have this before Mr. Thyroid dies from blunt force trauma, if yuh know what I mean.

So I am on some meds now, which I must admit for being only about 10 dollars in our money for a whole box of them, they are already making me feel a lot better. I think this place may do me well - good health care, affordable medication - sounds like a plan.

So they sent the one who always getting sick to Cuba! I knew there was some reason for them sending me here! If only I could figure out why they send Sylph to Nigeria. From reading that Bed story, I think she has a circulation problem she does not know about yet...

Furniture Shopping - Part 3 (by Sylph)

We head back to the furniture district in the sahara for our third visit, one which was most unwelcomed, because I could not understand how my fabric was sold. We were there just two days ago, finalising the arrangements to commence production, or so I foolishly thought. Now, they are telling me that the fabric gone!!! Explain to me, how that possible??? Ah vew, ah damn vew to be honest.... Because I really had no intention of testing my lungs yet again. And worst yet so soon. At least allow nature to run it course and the few antibodies in the system to try and combat the impurities that had invade my being and was attempting to take up residence in my lungs. Not rush back to the sahara and open the flood gates to some more.

We arrive and are greeted "you're welcome, you're welcome", when I am actually more like - 'I'm angry, I'm angry' and the salesman immediately start making all sorts of attempts to explain and apologise and further explain and then again apologise for what had lead to this mishap. I really was not amused... Because, just two days prior, money was paid to commence production. Why wasn't I informed of this possibility. Why wasn't there any attempt to explain that the fabric was an area of concern. All I received was assurances that the job will be done and I will be satisfied. Two days later the job is yet to commence and I am highly annoyed and most certainly unsatisfied.

By now we are offered a seat, in the dusty little store and informed that the fabric, which we paid for on Monday was sold since Saturday, because we did not make a payment on that occasion. Ehhhh!!! Come again. So why the hell no one saw it necessary to inform us of this before??? If the fabric was sold on Saturday, how is it that on Monday you are giving me your assurances that the job will be done? How is it that it took two days for you to realise that the fabric GONE and not coming back? What really took place between those two day? Can anyone tell me? Because I would really like to know...

So the young man explains and explains, until I get fed-up listening and then I just requested to be taken back to the fabric store to make another selection. Only then did I begin to understand what might have transpired. Now, notice I did not say 'fullly understand', just 'begin to'. Allow me to explain... What the young man in the little furniture store neglected to mention was that he was not the owner of the little fabric store. So even though he took us there and guided us through the store, giving us tips on selecting the appropriate fabric, as well as samples of the fabric to leave with and his assurances that all was well, the fabric was not his to sell. So right there and then the rightfull owner will come in to say that I had such exceptional taste that the fabric was sold the very said day. Is this an attempt to make the situation better???? I think not...... Clearly, there was no regard for my interest, because the mighty dollar had the final say.

So yet again I make another selection. However, on this occasion, what I did not ask, is what do not exist, because I WAS NOT going back in that dust bowl to select fabric AGAIN......

I made my second selection and permit me to say, I do think it was a damn good one, however on this occasion I was also challenged with selecting samples of fabric to reupholster some furniture at the High Commissioner's residence. And this came with a twist.... She had certain colours in mind, so it had to be along those lines. For some reason however, the little fabric store simply did not have any options along the suggested colour scheme, so I am told "worry not, there are other stores that we can go to". Trust me, right there and then I should have broken out in a cold sweat, but being the newcomer I had not clue what I was in store for.

We leave my nice little fabric store and head down a dirt path.... Now all the streets in this furniture district are dirt paths, however the one we begin our journey on is like no other that I have ever seen. Its was uneven and littered with a cluster of shops, furniture, vendors, children playing, chickens picking, at what, I cannot say because as far as the eye can see is dust and more dust. We walk and walk some more and pass a multitude of small shops selling from car parts to mattress, steel doors and fencing, hardware supplies, lumber, used electronic and the list goes on and on... and then we walk some more... I start to look down at my feet and once black shoes. Everything started to take on the colour of its environs. We walk some more, then suddenly we make a diversion off one dirt path to the next. We entered a small fabric store and viewed their selection, I requested a few samples and move on to other, and then another and yet another. Ooohhhhh, my lungs have begun to get heavy and tired, time to head back. I think I have more than enough samples to take back to the office.

Two weeks later we are called by the store owner to view the progress and to receive an update as to the production of my living and dining room sets and he insists that we come and view the progress. So we are off again on visit number four. At least my lungs got a two week rest. We arrive at the district and he offered to take us in his vehicle to the production area. Words cannot describe what had unfold. But I can assure you that I viewed my furniture, which was being upholstered in the selected material and I was satisfied with the progress. We leave for the office.

One week later, yet another call.... Both sets were completed, please come and view yet again. Must I????? Come on..... We head back to the sahara yet again, now visit number five and we view the finished product and make arrangements for delivery and final payment.

I must commend the guys from the Asokoro furniture district. My furniture was delivered and I must say that I was certainly pleased. They did an excellent job, particularly considering their limited access to resources and utilites. I was quite impressed by the high quality of the work and dispite the rough start, the final product was worth the wait. Much thanks for - A Job well done....

The finished product.....

Nigerian Wedding

I had the pleasure of attending my very first wedding in Nigeria. Now, I would consider myself to be very privileged to be honest, because during the course of my first week in Nigeria, I mentioned to my colleagues in the office that I would like to experience a wedding in Nigeria. Two weeks later the invitation arrived, so you can just imagine my excitement. On receiving the invitation I was informed that the couple was married traditionally, however we were invited to the church ceremony, to be followed by a reception. Apparently it is the practice of some Nigerians to have two ceremonies - a traditional and church ceremony.

The church ceremony was held at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and commenced promptly at 10 am. So we arrive at the church and were greeted by an array of persons, pedalling their trade on the outside of the church premises. There were vendors selling refreshments, newspapers, fresh fruit, cameramen taking photographs, persons offering corsage's and wedding programmes and all of these services are being offered at a price. Allow me to shed some light, or rather explain. The average Nigerian is very enterprising, because life in Nigeria is a hustle. So from early in the morning you will see persons on the city streets, hustling their trade, what ever that trade might be, ranging from tailoring, shoe repair and shine, small traders selling a variety of items, fruit vendors. You name it and I can assure you that you can go out on the street corner and someone will pass by offering that item or service for sale. Back to the wedding....

So we anxiously pass the mass of vendors on the outside and make our way to the church door, making a brief stop to collect a wedding programme. As I begun to mount the steps of the church however, I pause for a moment to view the cover of the programme in my hand, which brings me to an instant stop. On the cover of the nicely done programme was the picture of a couple I did not recognise. Now I am in Nigeria no more that eight weeks and I met the bride-to-be only on one occasion, however I was certain that the person I was looking down at was not the person I was introduced to and whom had invited me to share in her joyous day of marriage. Who the hell is this?

Right under the photo were the names Joy and Felix....... So I call out to the two persons that were with me, "stop, we need to call the driver, because we are at the wrong church." The response from them was "are you certain?" My response, "the wedding we are suppose to be attending is that of Meg and Dave, however this programme says Joy and Felix." The three of us are now standing on the church steps with the greatest look of confusion, because according to the invitation in my hand, the wedding was to be held at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and according to the programme, which I was also holding in my hand, the wedding of Joy and Felix was also at the Holy Trinity Catholic Church and they were both scheduled for 10am. This was certainly a first for me.

I stood at the entrance of the church literally peeking, trying to locate my other colleagues from the office. Because of limited space in the vehicle, a few of them had gone ahead, so they should have been seated already. However, one glance in the church and I was reminded that I was in Africa, because all I can see was an assortment of large head wraps in various forms, sizes and colour, so trying to identify someone in that crowd was almost impossible. I stood there wondering 'are we at the right location, what's really going on here'. On a second glance into the church however, I observed that the front pew was filled of women wearing white veils and I wondered to myself 'is it normal for the bridesmaids to be all dressed in white, veil and all?' What's going on here? The three of us were totally confused. Against our better judgement a colleague of mine called one of the persons who arrived ahead of us to enquire where they were and if it was indeed the right church. That person responded in the affirmative and encouraged us to enter the church as the service had already begun. So we did. Although still very much confused.

We entered the church and took our seats and got right into the service. The priest was already doing the sermon and giving the couples (please note the use of the plural word) some words of advise. I start right away to pay attention to my surroundings and the proceedings, because I really wanted some clarification as to why I was invited to Meg and Dave's wedding and the programme in my hand said Joy and Felix. Right after the sermon the priest invited the couples to join him on the altar to say their vows and at that point things became much clearer. Five brides, accompanied by five grooms made there way to the altar. Now that will explain the front row filled of women dressed in white, topped with white veils on their heads. I am beginning to understand. This was a multiple wedding ceremony, definitely a first for me.

The five couples all lined up on the altar and the mother and father-givers were invited to join them. The priest then began the recital of the vows with the first couple, which so happened to be the couple that invited me to the event, Meg and Dave. So one by one the priest went down the aisles, as the couples recited their vows. Right in the middle of the vows of the fourth couple there was an outburst at the entrance of the church.... Oh my, what can this be????? In comes couple number six one hour into the ceremony.

Did I mention that on the invitation I received it boldly stated 10am promptly.... You might have gathered that I was not as prompt as the invitation suggested, however, I was not getting married along with five other persons. Apparently, no one saw it fit to point out the time to bride number six and her enter bridal party. So at 11am the service was interrupted by the rushing bride, accompanied by her groom, mother-giver, father-giver, bridesmaids, groomsmen, junior bride, relatives, friends and well wishers. It was almost as though they came on a bus. They all just came running down the aisles, heading straight to the foot of the altar. Now now, what can be done about this? And hour into the service and bride number six has just arrived? So you can imagine the confusion and the outburst of murmuring in the church. Plus poor bride number four, probably wondering who/what the hell interrupted her vows in front of all these people. The priest stood there in amazement. After taking a couple of seconds to assess the situation he directed them to side of the altar until he completed the recital of the vows with couple number four. Then he moved on the awaiting couple, number five. On completion, he looked up, almost puzzled and confused as to what was the appropriate action to be taken. After a brief consultation with the persons on the alter he signalled to the couple to join him on the altar and proceeded to give them a good scolding, followed by their vows.

The ceremony took the full format of a mass, including offertory and communion and the church had an extremely vibrant choir, which lifted the mood and gave the atmosphere of a celebration. Right after the communion the priest requested the couples to quickly assembly for the signing of the marriage register. At this point, all of the couple, followed by their entire bridal party, moved swiftly down the aisle and assembled at the door of the church. And one by one the couples and their entourage, danced down the aisles in a procession to the choir singing songs of praise and thanksgiving. There was signing and dancing and chanting throughout the church. It was truly a moment of celebration, as they made their way to sign the marriage register and receive their final blessings.

So the ceremony was over and thoroughly enjoyed by all. Now we make our way to the reception. We arrive at the hall and were ushered to our table and await the arrival of the newly weds. On their arrival, they were greeted by the bridal party, who were all outfitted in the same fabric and once again they danced their way down the aisles. Now, I have observed that it is the practice during times of celebration for an entire family (and I am not referring to four or five persons, more like twenty-five, thirty persons, man, woman and child) to be all outfitted in the same fabric. There will be various styles and versions of outfits and head wraps to match, however it will all be made from the same fabric. In similar fashion, both the bride and groom's parents will be outfitted in the same fabric.

The reception took on the format of any regular wedding reception, but what stood out was that when the couple was invited to take their first dance, the guests was invited to spray them. This spraying, which is something I am considering to introduce at my wedding, was not with perfume or anything of liquid form, neither was it done with rice, which is often done in countries like the one I am from. Instead the couple was sprayed with money. Yes, MONEY........ Lots and lots of MONEY.... I was surprised and very, very pleased..... And the more they danced, the more money was thrown their way. Now I have always found weddings to be quite an expense. This expense may sometimes be met by the parents, however most times, particularly in recent times, the couples are the ones bearing the expense. So wouldn't it be nice to be sprayed with some cash to assist with covering your first month's bills. Wouldn't it?????

I must say the wedding was enjoyed by all. I was truly thankful for being invited to share in their special day. I would like to wish Meg and Dave, and Joy and Felix, and all of the other couples all the best in their future together and may they have a happy and fruitful marriage.

Furniture Shopping - Part 2 (by Sylph)

I am certain you can re-call the two instructions I received before my furniture extravaganza in the Sahara, on my second day in Nigeria, which so happened to be October 28th. To my great dismay only today, December 11th did the furniture store feel it necessary to come and replace the damn damaged bed that they delivered before my arrival and this delivery did not come by without a fuss.

The instructions given to me on that morning, clearly stated that during the course of the week the furniture store will, I repeat, WILL replace the bedroom set, as the one delivered was not the set paid for. Apparently, it was the set on display and was visibly damaged. Okay, simply enough..... So why seven weeks later this damn thing is still sitting up in the bedroom, occupying space and even worst collecting dust? Why wasn't I hearing anything positive from the furniture store? I made it my business to go over to the store to enquire as to what was the keep back and on each visit the excuses became more and more ridiculous and no true attempt was being made to replace the bedroom set. So by now my patience is wearing thin, because not only is the bed damaged, but the mattress delivered was not only damn hard and uncomfortable, it was not the one we purchased and was valued much less. So I am forced to sleep on a damn hard, uncomfortable bed and only receiving excuses, upon excuses, with no end in sight.

I have had enough.....

So I storm across to the store, which is walking distance from the office and inform the sales lady that if the bed cannot be replaced we would like a refund and I was damn serious about that. A day later, (Thursday) the young lady finds her way to my office to inform that after being spoken too so 'sternly', she had to bring the matter to the attention of her manager and calls were made to the manufacturer to ensure that the bed will be delivered, as they (the store) did not want to lose the High Commission's business. STEUPS.... She goes on to say that the new bed will be delivered on the following Tuesday.

Needless to say that Tuesday came and went and no bed was delivered. NONE... Absolutely NONE..... On Wednesday, while making groceries in the said store, minding my business, trying not even to think about the bed, I run into the sales lady, who quickly whisks me away to her manager to apologise and reassure me that the bed had indeed arrive and will be delivered the next day (Thursday). Of course, both Thursday and Friday went by and no bed was in sight. No bed I say, NONE...... So I am forced to sleep on my hard damaged bed.

One week later, on December 10th the phone rings and who can be on the other line, but the good old sales lady who is forever promising. This time around she informs that they are ready to deliver...... Deliver!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What???????????? I must be dreaming.......

Yes, they are ready to deliver my long lost bed, however we are away on business and no one, I repeat NO ONE, is available to receive the delivery. Can you believe it. Its like a never ending nightmare. So there I sat and wonder, will I ever get the opportunity to lay eyes on it, or even better lay my body on my long lost bed. Oh, when will we get the opportunity to bond, for me to lay between the sheets and cuddle with my blanket and pillows and rub my body against the mattress, which I oh so hope is softer than the one I have now, because times are nothing short of HARD and ROUGH, on the current one that I am sleeping on. Oh when will we be together?????

Point to note; apparently in Nigeria they like to sleep on a hard mattress. Not firm, but hard.... Brick hard. I have never encountered such hard mattresses in my life. Never..... I thought the mattress in the apartment was hard, however last weekend we travelled out of state and stayed at a hotel, which had the hardest mattress I have ever slept on. And I make no joke. It was like lying on a brick. The shit was brick hard. Needless to say, the first night I laid awake for a very long time, trying to imagine a soft spot on the bed and make myself comfortable enough to close my eyes and fall asleep. The night was rough.....

So we missed the first attempt to actually deliver the bed and there I am praying that this was a genuine attempt and eagerly requesting for the delivery to be made on the following day.

December 11th.... Now I must say that today was an extremely fulfilling day. A day to remember, because quite a number of unresolved issues, somehow managed to be resolved today. For instance, since I have arrived in Nigeria I have not been issued with an official cell phone or number and like magic, that was resolved. A past request made to upgrade our internet service to wireless, and walla that too is being resolved. (Hopefully by tomorrow, I will be wireless.) A telephone technician that has been in and out the building for weeks, this afternoon informed that our landlines should be working (I am yet to test the lines, but I am very hopeful. The landlines at the Mission has not worked for a very long time, to long to remember). The heavens must have smiled on us today. For certain, christmas is around the corner. And the topping on this cherry pie, is the sales lady actually calling to say that my new bedroom set is on its way. Whoopppyy, today is my special day. Santa has come early in December. My new bed is on its way.....

Yes, the new bedroom set was delivered this afternoon and I was very pleased with the style and design of the set. It was a vast improvement from the one before and the mattress even seems to be softer, cannot wait to get between the sheets.

So the new bed was delivered, the old one taken away (good riddance), now its time to put some sheets on the bed, because this has been the long awaited night. But as my mother and I attempt to make the bed, we realise a slight peculiarity. The mattress refuses to fit. It seems to be slightly bigger than the bed!!!!! Now, come on that cannot be...... Who delivers a bed with the wrong size mattress? WHO????? Let me tell you - Furniture stores in Nigeria, that's who...............

We twist and turn that damn mattress round and round until I eventually give up and left her with the damn bed. I have had enough..... Who would have thought it possible.

To be honest, tonight I will be sleeping with my legs slightly elevated and that is not because I have a back or a swelling problem. Its because the mattress cannot fit into the bed frame and is lying on-top the edge of the bed. And I can assure you that this may never change, because they way of business in this country is like no other and the procedures and stress I might now have to endure might outlast my stay in Nigeria.

So I am off to sleep in my new slightly elevated bed. Stay tuned for more furniture shopping in the Sahara.

A ride in the Guagua (by Beenie Girl)

Ok so based on my track record, I should have guessed that this would happen because somehow the first time I take a bus in any foreign country is usually very eventful – The first time I took a bus in Guyana (well that was more like a maxi) I almost cried because the conductor was shouting at me to “draw round and make room” and I was thinking “Room where?” The first time I took the bus in London I was on the wrong side of the road, so I took right number of bus but I was on an Eastbound 176 instead of a Westbound one. Needless to say instead of ending up on Oxford Street I was looking out the window wondering: “Why am I seeing children playing in fields?” So on Saturday I took a bus for the first time here and history repeated itself. Now let me first of all explain how I got on this bus and the frame of mind I was in when I arrived on this bus.
My mom and I went to a kind of trade fair with another woman who works at our Embassy (we will call her ‘Missy’ for today). It was nice to get out for a change and I bought some gorgeous wooden sculptures and other stuff. While we were at the fair we got an emergency call to go back to the office to sort something out. Unfortunately by then we could not get a hold of the Embassy driver so we had to find some public transport. We walked for a few minutes looking for a taxi but to no avail. We tried stopping private cars on the way and all but by Cuban law, a Cuban without a taxi-license is not allowed to give a foreigner a ride with them in their car. Not even when it is your best friend. If the police stops you, the driver gets a fine and you have to out of the car, even when it is in the middle of no-where. So apparently not many people were feeling like taking the risk that day, so ‘hopping a drop’ or hitch hiking was out of the question.
Eventually Missy gets an idea that we should try and get a bus, since the bus stop is QUOTE “Right down the road, not far from here” END QUOTE Of course we walked and walked and walked some more and somehow this bus stop kept moving further away. While we were walking we were getting the brief on taking the bus in Cuba. The bus we were goin to take, Missy explained, is for Cubans and so we are supposed to get on the bus quickly and stay very quiet so no one would know we were not Cuban (as if I look Cuban!) I mean I am sure there are all kinds of Cuban people, but I am sure the Cubans are smart enough to know who not from here, especially as I now come off the boat so to speak. Now, buses are a popular means of transport in Cuba and are especially crowded on weekends and public holidays. The first thing one might notice about these buses is that many of them are quite old because the blockade has made it difficult to purchase new buses. There are two national bus operators in Cuba. The national bus company in Cuba is the larger of the two and designed to cater primarily for Cubans, while another smaller bus company serves tourists. Cuban nationals pay for their bus rides in the local Cuban pesos, while foreigners are supposed to either rent a car, take a taxi, or use the other special bus company and they will pay in dollars or Convertible pesos (CUC). I think I read somewhere that the some of the regular buses in Cuba have some seats reserved for foreigners who pay in dollars or CUC. However not everybody in Cuba is authorized to receive payment in dollars or CUC, so imagine if you go to a particular bus terminal and they don’t have a special office to collect the CUC or the bus driver does not receive CUC then you in trouble, no bus ride fuh you.
Now if any of you know me and know how much I DETEST walking for any long period of time, you will know that I agreed to this fanciful plan only because by then I was sooo tired of walking and walking, I would ride a burro back to the Embassy at this point. So with Cuban pesos in hand we approach the bus stop. So I am saying “I am sure they will figure me out right away, it’s not like I can blend in any kind of crowd first of all because I am gigantic.” My mother is muttering to herself “They bound to figure me out in my fancy Ted Arthur leather slippers, who wearing slippers like this here? Eh? WHO?” So we stop talking a few feet from the bus stop, because remember the idea is to stay quiet and BLEND IN. Of course I find this makes us stand out more cause people are all chatting with people next to them and the three of us standing up together but completely silent. The bus arrives and according to plan we jus go in with the crowd of people, drop in our pesos happily and move speedily to the back of the bus. So I am not even looking and Missy and my mom so at least if someone catches me we still have someone to call the Embassy and to tell to the reporters what really happened.
After a few stops the bus was packed or for want of a better phrase – RAM CRAM. Imagine the bus driver was trying to close the front door and bodies were preventing de door from closing and of course they not getting off eh, because they insist on going home in THIS bus. Well I see some people by the door kinda tip toe, and the door jus pop in. Of course I am thinkin ok, when that door opens again those people going to pop of that step and fall on the sidewalk. But that was the least of my worries at that point. We were near the back of the bus which was slightly less crowded than the front and to make it better we were near a door so we did not have to think how we were going to maneuvering through all those bodies to leave the bus.
Well there is no bell on the bus, the bus driver is supposed to stop at every stop. The man stops out our stop and I thought “fabulous we made it unscathed.” Like I said we were near a door which up until that point opened each time the bus stopped. However, now we were at our stop and Mr. Bus Driver on a whim decides not to open that back door - talk about instant panic! I start thinking Lord, this is it, this is our punishment for not paying CUC, for sneaking on the bus, Look I getting carried away in this bus. My mother’s face was like “Look what they get me into now?” Missy started banging on the door shouting: “Chofer! Chofer!” Just as Mr. Bus Driver about to drive off, some man nearby like he feel sorry for us, he shouted someting in Spanish and then u see the bus driver jus wave and open the door. I jump off that bus so fast! The only time I ever left a bus faster than that was when I fell off the back of one of those open back Routemaster buses in London, but that is another bus story…