A week later...

Monday 30^th August - Wow, a week has been by since my first update. It feels like we’ve been here for at least 2 weeks. I’m definitely feeling a bit more local (my heart doesn’t thump in my chest when Caleb is driving anymore).  Yes, we’ve started driving. What an experience it is. Sometimes you drive on the right, other times on the left, there’s motorbikes, people, goats, chickens and other obstacles to avoid.

There has been the constant drone of generator for the last 3 days, as our transformer has been getting fixed. The city power supply comes on for limited amounts of time each day, so many of the other teachers here don’t have power very often at all… we’re really blessed to have a generator running. Although, even that is not very reliable. It goes on and off a few times a night… a couple of nights ago we were in the lift when it shut down. It’s a weird feeling, being stuck in a lift with no power. Actually, we got stuck in the lift today as well. As in, it got to our floors and the doors just would not open. We jumped, we pushed buttons, we tried to open the doors, to no avail. But a quick slam of the slightly opened doors kick started the lift back into life so we could get out.

One of the highlights of the week for me was going for our first run outside our apartment compound. We have been advised not to wander around the streets, despite our school staff telling us that it is safe to walk around.... but there’s no way we can’t go out. We are definitely unlike any other Westerners that come here.  Even Nigerians don’t walk for leisure, and they don’t understand why we want to. Therefore, to see a couple of Westerners wandering the local streets is something many have probably never seen before. Normally, foreigners can be seen driven around in luxury vehicles by their local driver (note, we are getting a driver too, but more on that later).

We ran the opposite way to the way we normally drive into our complex. It’s a maze of dirt roads, and roadside shacks where people are selling what they can in order to eat.

So, to see two white people RUNNING is definitely a spectacle. Nigerians and white people do not run here for leisure.  We had all sorts of jibs and jives called out at us… ignorance is bliss when you don’t know the local language. 

Since running down that way, I’m developing a real fondness for those streets. So, I’ve told Caleb that I want to keep visiting this area, so we start to become a familiar face and can maybe start to build some kind of relationships with the people there.

We’re also doing the same thing with the local markets down our street. No matter where you go here, you hear the same greeting – “Oyibo!”. Which means “white person!”. It’s said in such a friendly way, almost with a touch of surprise… and I guess it is… there’s not that many expats wandering the local markets like we do. “Oyibo” translated literally means “peeled one”… as in, our normal black coloured skin has been peeled off…. as one Nigerian put it, ‘people are not supposed to be that colour!’