crepes!
i know, i know, everyone's sick of hearing about how strange my life here is. and the truth is, it's really not all that strange. it's just that sometimes i have a hard time with the disparity in the day to day, you know? so, for example, last night i went to have dinner with a friend of mine, a french guy i met a couple of months ago while out clubbing with some friends. being an ex-pat, he lives in the really nice area of lagos, in an insanely nice (3 bedroom, 3 bathroom, marble floors, huge kitchen) apartment, and when i say i went to have dinner with him, i mean he came with his driver to pick me up at my office and we went to his apartment where his cook prepared and served a three-course french meal for us (which we, of course, enjoyed with 2 bottles of red wine).
this morning, as i was eating the crepes with blueberry jam and drinking the coffee (REAL COFFEE. it was GLORIOUS. i should probably explain that nigerians only drink instant coffee, and with the exception of my jaunt to new york in september and the occasional cup at rachel's place in ikoyi, i haven't had REAL COFFEE in a year) that his cook made for me, i had a momentary flash of "is this seriously my life?" last night i slept in my own double bed in an air-conditioned room in a beautiful apartment, the night before i slept on the floor in the living room of my friends' basement flat with no electricity. this morning i took a long, hot shower, yesterday morning i poured a bucket of freezing-cold water over my head in order to get clean. this morning i had freshly made crepes with blueberry jam, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and coffee, yesterday morning i had local bread with butter and water. my host family lives in a 2 bedroom flat with a tiny kitchen and one bathroom where there is only running water when we have NEPA (the Nigerian Electric Power Authority, or Never Expect Power Again). emma's house, where i'm currently living, has two bedrooms and 1 bathroom with a boy's quarters in the back where he and i live, which is a separate bedroom with it's own bathroom. but it still has a tiny kitchen. the mc house, where i usually stay when i'm out with my friends, is a 2 bedroom flat with one bathroom and no kitchen (they keep a stove outside, where there is also a sink, so i guess that's the kitchen? i've only seen them cook once in a year), and 5 guys live there permanently, but on any given night you'll find somewhere between 3 and 20 people sleeping there. also, nigerian houses very rarely have ovens, or even stoves. they all have kerosene camping stoves, sometimes 2 or 3 in a house, where they do all their cooking. in comparison, every ex-pat apartment i've been in has 3 bedrooms, at least 2 bathrooms, and huge kitchens with stoves and ovens. even if only one person lives there. sometimes i encounter nigerian families living in similar apartments to the expat apartments, but then there is usually a big extended family living there, making use of all the space. two of the ex-pat apartments i've seen have only one person living there.
it occurs to me that i sound like i'm complaining, somehow. i'm not. i love my life here, and i'm starting to get really terrified about the move back to the states and the reverse culture shock i'm bound to experience. and i think a huge part of that is just how spoiled i am here. no matter where i'm staying, there's always someone taking care of me -- making sure i'm fed, and happy, fetching water if i need it (i do fetch my own water too, don't stress), just generally watching out for me. nigerians, and the ex-pats who live here in nigeria, just take care of each other all the time. you don't have money today? don't worry, i'll make sure you have food and even just give you some cash to keep you from stressing. you want to go clubbing? i'll drive you there, buy your drinks, and let you pass out on my shoulder when you're too tired to dance anymore. and it's not just money -- there's always someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, someone who will listen when you need it. and it's not like i don't have that in new york, but in new york that sort of treatment is available if you want it, but sometimes everyone is so busy that it's hard to find. here, you can't escape it. when i first got here, i hated that i was never alone -- nigerians are actually confused by my occasional desire to sit by myself in an empty room. now i find that when i do find myself alone, i don't like it. even if all i want to do is read a book or sketch in my sketchbook, i prefer to do it somewhere where people are talking or listening to music. nigerians share my compulsive need to have music playing all the time, though they expand it to a need to have noise all the time, which i haven't quite adopted yet. doors are always open here -- you can pop into a friend's house at any time with no warning (as long as they're awake and the door's unlocked, which it always is if someone's home and awake) and they'll feed you, hang out with you, and find you a space to sleep if you want to stay the night.
this morning, as i was eating the crepes with blueberry jam and drinking the coffee (REAL COFFEE. it was GLORIOUS. i should probably explain that nigerians only drink instant coffee, and with the exception of my jaunt to new york in september and the occasional cup at rachel's place in ikoyi, i haven't had REAL COFFEE in a year) that his cook made for me, i had a momentary flash of "is this seriously my life?" last night i slept in my own double bed in an air-conditioned room in a beautiful apartment, the night before i slept on the floor in the living room of my friends' basement flat with no electricity. this morning i took a long, hot shower, yesterday morning i poured a bucket of freezing-cold water over my head in order to get clean. this morning i had freshly made crepes with blueberry jam, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and coffee, yesterday morning i had local bread with butter and water. my host family lives in a 2 bedroom flat with a tiny kitchen and one bathroom where there is only running water when we have NEPA (the Nigerian Electric Power Authority, or Never Expect Power Again). emma's house, where i'm currently living, has two bedrooms and 1 bathroom with a boy's quarters in the back where he and i live, which is a separate bedroom with it's own bathroom. but it still has a tiny kitchen. the mc house, where i usually stay when i'm out with my friends, is a 2 bedroom flat with one bathroom and no kitchen (they keep a stove outside, where there is also a sink, so i guess that's the kitchen? i've only seen them cook once in a year), and 5 guys live there permanently, but on any given night you'll find somewhere between 3 and 20 people sleeping there. also, nigerian houses very rarely have ovens, or even stoves. they all have kerosene camping stoves, sometimes 2 or 3 in a house, where they do all their cooking. in comparison, every ex-pat apartment i've been in has 3 bedrooms, at least 2 bathrooms, and huge kitchens with stoves and ovens. even if only one person lives there. sometimes i encounter nigerian families living in similar apartments to the expat apartments, but then there is usually a big extended family living there, making use of all the space. two of the ex-pat apartments i've seen have only one person living there.
it occurs to me that i sound like i'm complaining, somehow. i'm not. i love my life here, and i'm starting to get really terrified about the move back to the states and the reverse culture shock i'm bound to experience. and i think a huge part of that is just how spoiled i am here. no matter where i'm staying, there's always someone taking care of me -- making sure i'm fed, and happy, fetching water if i need it (i do fetch my own water too, don't stress), just generally watching out for me. nigerians, and the ex-pats who live here in nigeria, just take care of each other all the time. you don't have money today? don't worry, i'll make sure you have food and even just give you some cash to keep you from stressing. you want to go clubbing? i'll drive you there, buy your drinks, and let you pass out on my shoulder when you're too tired to dance anymore. and it's not just money -- there's always someone to talk to, someone to hang out with, someone who will listen when you need it. and it's not like i don't have that in new york, but in new york that sort of treatment is available if you want it, but sometimes everyone is so busy that it's hard to find. here, you can't escape it. when i first got here, i hated that i was never alone -- nigerians are actually confused by my occasional desire to sit by myself in an empty room. now i find that when i do find myself alone, i don't like it. even if all i want to do is read a book or sketch in my sketchbook, i prefer to do it somewhere where people are talking or listening to music. nigerians share my compulsive need to have music playing all the time, though they expand it to a need to have noise all the time, which i haven't quite adopted yet. doors are always open here -- you can pop into a friend's house at any time with no warning (as long as they're awake and the door's unlocked, which it always is if someone's home and awake) and they'll feed you, hang out with you, and find you a space to sleep if you want to stay the night.