THE THING ABOUT DEVELOPING COUNTRIES...

.
Is that they are DEVELOPING! The weird mix of realities is dizzying and disorienting and takes a lot of energy to process.
There are such stark contrasts and incomprehensible ironies. One minute you see progress, the next minute one feels how are they ever going to get this all together? Like, I can blog using the internet in a campsite with no flushing toilet, refrigeration or hot water.



Or see this big a__ satellite disc sitting on top of a shack that can barely bear its weight?


(This is supposedly the boat of the richest guy in Nigeria.)

You see wealth sitting amidst extreme poverty. Or modern bridges and barely passable roads within a half mile of each other. Banks and ATMS existing along side the money changer system.

MONEY CHANGERS


Let me explain the money changer thing in Nigeria: if you’ve got dollars and you need naira, you don’t go to the ATM or the Bank on the foreign exchanges in the airport or the hotel. NO, you go in a car behind the hotel or wherever the money changers are known to be in that part of town (and everyone knows where this is).
Most of the money changers are just outside hanging on the corners waiting for you to come, but some also have offices that you drive up to. Ok, so you drive up and immediately a bunch of guys run up and surround your car; you roll down your window and ask for the exchange rate (you might negotiate a bit if you have a Nigerian doing the talking); then you say how much you want to exchange; one of the guys runs off somewhere and comes back within minutes with a wad of cash; you sit there and count it, and then you ride off like basically you just did a little drive thru banking. CRAZY!!

This system is accepted by everyone. It is run exclusively by the Hausa ethnic group. They have best rates and no one seems to get hurt in the process. But I got to tell you, it looks so shady that I felt like I was on some corner in Baltimore transacting drug business like an episode from the “WIRE.” Oh and Nigeria is all about cash. Folks don't take plastic except the big hotels. I have never walked around with so much cash on me or so many huge bills. [If you change $500 U.S. dollars, that's 75,000 naira. If you ask and can get 1000 notes, that means 75 bills; if you get 500 notes, that's 150 pieces of cash! You have this huge stack of bills on you- everyone laughed at me because I never figured out the right way to hold the bills so I could count my money.]

Because there is so much corruption in Nigeria, there is also the phenomenon of the vacant building. Everywhere there seems to be projects that got started but never finished- like the contractor ran off with the money. It costs too much to tear these things down, so they just kind of remain for years.




Nigeria is really tough too because you know that there is all this oil money moving through lots of hands but not getting distributed to those who need it most- although people are trying. I definitely think the standard of living among the working poor is higher than in India; I think I heard $50 month for a family of 4; I think some people in India are making $90 annually. And still we visited people living in a small 2 room (small ante room and bedroom) concrete structure with 6 people living in one room. They did have a refrigerator and air unit, but not wired lights. Strangely, they had a huge shirtless R.Kelly poster on the wall, which i was really confused by but did not ask about.
Still, we came out of there at night, no street lights at all so you can't see much, but as we drove down the almost impassable road, everywhere we could see these little stores/shacks with oil lamps or little kerosene stoves, selling things, people hanging and laughing, playing cards; I even saw a woman braiding hair with a head lamp on her head. As they say,"neccesity is the mother of invention." People are doing what they can to make it.

Two weeks went by so quickly. I have such a limited perspective. I was trying to pick up what I could, hanging out with Pam and hearing her friends talk about policies, politics, and their own lives. There were no tour guides this trip (except in Badagry), but I got to hang out with and meet the cook, the driver, the government lodge staff, the governor,

the minister of that and the permanent secretary of this, the super talented seamstress who made me 3 dresses in one day (who was the sister of the catering manager of the lodge;he is also an enginer), Pammy’s friends from Abuja and Port Hartcourt

And of course I got to meet the youth of Nigeria who are its future.

I GOT TO REMEMBER AGAIN, HOW BLESSED I AM AND HOW MUCH I HAVE TO LEARN AND WANT TO GIVE.

Peace and Prosperity to my Motherland
Peace and Prosperity to the Diaspora
Peace and Prosperity to ALL.
V.

BADAGRY- SLAVE PORT- MY PEOPLE MY PEOPLE

The second day in Lagos after running, picking up and dropping off letters for the program, Pam, and I set out for Badagry the largest slave port in Nigeria, where Africans caught and sold other Africans to Europeans for the slave trade. We were joined by a young man who was recommended to us by one of Pam’s friends from the assembly, who’s uncle was the chief of the town, Chief Mobee. The town is about 2 hours from where we were in Lagos- lots of dusty countryside, crazy roads and traffic but it was worth the trip.




We first met the chief of the village and then we were taken on a tour to see the shackles and chains that were used to imprison and control the slaves. It is hard to comprehend the kind of fear and horror these slaves had to experience. The ways they tortured slaves was so inhumane, I won’t attempt to describe.


We also saw the tiny quarters in which they were held before going on ships to South America and the Caribbean (the middle passage). Believe it or not, there was a slave that was taken to Brazil, somehow won his freedom and then came back to Africa and became a major slave trader himself. How does that happen?
After slavery ended, I understand that some slaves (and their descendants) who were taken to Brazil came back to Africa to reclaim Africa as their home. Therefore you will see some Brazilian architecture and other signs of Brazilian culture in Lagos.



The most important part of the experience was taking the ferry (actually a very small motorized boat) over to the “Point of No Return.” The boat ferried Pammy, two other African-American women (mother and daughter), their Nigerian-born friend, our guides and me, to another piece of land about a 10-minute boat ride away from the mainland. This is actually what was done with the slaves.


From the boat, we walked the 2 miles the slaves walked chained to each other at their ankles, hands and sometimes their necks to the “Well of Attenuation.” It was a well where all the slaves were taken and forced to drink water that had been bewitched (spiked) by the local black magic “practitioneer”so that when the slaves drank the water, they became calm, malleable, sedated and numb.




From there we traveled another mile on the same land as our ancestors tread to the “Point of No Return”- a large arched structure has been placed there to mark the spot. This is where the slaves are able to see the ocean and were forced on boats to a land completely unknown to them.

I imagined that this place is where that thing happens in the pit of your stomach, your hope dissolves and your fears multiply. They were forced to lay side by side crammed on the floor of the ship in large numbers chained together for the entire journey. There were no provisions made for them to move about or go to the bathroom. I don’t know how they were fed. The journey took 6-8 weeks. Can you imagine?
I was talking to one of the black women with us. I asked her what kind of slave she thought she would be. I know this is something that lots of black Americans ask themselves. She said, “the suicidal kind.”

Of course, I could see her point, but then, I thought, but you have your family with you; it would be hard to leave them; most of us would struggle to live out of the motive of unselfish love and protection. How could you leave your family in such a horrible predicament? I had always thought that I would be a “dead slave” because you know my mouth, and my sense of justice and my augmentative spirit. But that day after hearing what it was really like for the slaves, I could just imagine the fear brought on by such loathsome cruelty. I remembered that I am a “good girl” a “true believer” and optimist. I bet you that I would have tried to be a “good slave.” I think I would be afraid of having my limbs torn apart or my lips stretched, or my arms nailed to a tree. I think I would have obeyed and hoped for the best. Yuk! This kind of makes me sick.

Pammy and I looked at the ocean beyond the point of return and considered all the spirits that have gathered on the beach- many of which had ultimately survived such a devastating and destructive passage. [Believe it or not, while lots of slaves died, the slave traders usually only loss 16% of their “cargo.”] I am sure the cost benefit analysis suggested that 16% was an acceptable loss- therefore no need to improve conditions or do anything differently. Good God! MAN’S INHUMANITY TO MAN.


The British abolitionist, certain African chiefs and missionaries helped to put an end to slavery in 1863. We saw the first bible ever translated into the Yoruba language and one of the first schools established for African children in Nigeria by missionaries. But of course, then the British went onto to colonize Nigeria until 1964. What can you do?

I remember being really heartbroken (almost like when you see your first boyfriend in middle school or high school kissing another girl) when I learned that it was Africans who hunted down and traded slaves to the Europeans. Somehow, I wanted my ancestors to be above reproach, impervious to greed, power, selfishness, cowardice, etc. In exchange for slaves they got all sort of goods(like metals, cannons, etc.) from Europeans. I assume they wanted to subdue others and protect their power. I guess I wanted them to be something other than human.

When history is recorded, being the victim sometimes seems better than being the perpetrator. But then again, I think about what it takes to escape the self-righteousness of being the “wronged” or the condemnation of being the evil doer, or worse yet, the phenomeon of the "wronged" who become the evil doers. (Did you ever read the “Pedagogy of the Oppressed”?- changed my life)

When we stopped by the Well of Attentuation in fact I thought of how sinister it was to drug your prey so that they would cooperate with their own enslavement. And, of course, it brought to mind how many of my folks (black folks) still seem to be drinking from that well.

It takes a lot of faith and courage to rise up out of the psychosis, to reverse the destruction, to channel the anger and resist the nihilism. We are still at it in the U.S. and they are definitely still at in Nigeria. But with courage, faith and love, all things are possible. These virtues come in the human form too. THANK GOD!
V.

ABUJA IS THE CAPITAL BUT LAGOS IS THE BIG CITY!!!!

ABUJA- THE STATE CAPITAL- CLEANED, PLANNED, LINES
(American Embassy)





(This street called Bill Clinton drive in Abuja;Clinton visited Nigeria when he was President - see, nicely marked streets!)

I am about to get on the plane to go home from Abuja. I didn’t get to see much of Abuja, but is the state capital and the model city. The capital was moved here from Lagos not long ago. It is beautiful and planned.



Now let me tell you about Lagos: All i can say is WILD! Pammy says that Lagos is the Nigerian version of New York City, and maybe she’s right, but not the NYC that I see several times a month! I’ve now been to Beijing, Shanghai,Tokyo,Delhi, Mumbai and New York -some of the largest cities in the world and now Lagos- (some estimates have Lagos at 17 million-Bejiing is now estimated by some to be at 22 million). I have been overwhelmed by all of them, but Lagos really blew my mind. I can’t describe it really and the pictures just won’t do it justice. Not to mention, I was told not to put my camera out the window and on some occasions not to roll the windows down at all. I guess that is one difference between Lagos and those other cities I mentioned. You always have to be careful in any city, but the concern about crime is definitely more in Lagos than in the other big cities that I've been in, well, maybe not in NY- but NY has gotten a lot better in the last few years.




I mean, the place is ALIVE- all day and all night. The volume seems to be turned up; there are always little fires burning. And you see clothes, buckets, fruit, eggs, jugs of gasoline hanging from small make-shift store fronts, on people’s heads, alongside every road. The traffic is crazy, and the drivers are crazier than Indian drivers, it think. Or maybe, it’s a tie. I mean, the overarching strategy for driving in both countries is just to keep it moving- no matter what. Don’t stop unless you are 100 percent sure that there is going to be a collision(although almost every car in Nigeria looks like its been involved in 15 fendbenders); near misses are the norm. Both countries give new meaning to the concept of “merging.”


The issue with Lagos is that some of the roads are so bad that there is a lot of driving off the road, veering wildy back on to the road, around the gigantic crater, through 2 feet of water, crossing 3 lanes to avoid more water, just skimming the huge truck and barely missing the thousands of motorcycles threading the traffic moving in little throngs through all the chaos!! CRAZZY!! Sometimes this is all done with a lot of speed. But we got caught in a traffic jam where no one moved for about 25 minutes, then everyone started maneuvering in a wild fashion where they were inch by inch avoiding collision after collision. It was almost like watching a new art form, and a terrifying one at that. And oh, in Nigeria unlike India, there is screaming and hand gestures, and everyone motioning to other drivers (including pedestrians), about how to advance through the traffic.

Let’s not forget the Nigerian art form of “HUSTLING.” I have never seen it done better. Say you were driving for a while (cause everything takes at least an hour to get to unless you leave at 6 am)and you got a little thirsty, noticed that your mobile need recharge minutes, needed a magazine or newspaper, or you were in the mood for a meat patty. No problem, no need to stop. Who’s going to stop in traffic like that anyway? All you have to do is look outside your window and there are guys with things in their hands, on their heads or carts and they are there staring at you and coming up to your window anyway; they are ready to sell whatever you want to buy. So the traffic slows, you, the passenger or the driver, roll down the window and say to the guy standing in the middle of a 4-"lane" (misnomer) street and say, “You got any Orbit lemon gum? How much?” He tells you the price. The traffic starts to move, your car starts moving cause the traffic picks up. Does the guy say, “0h well,too bad; missed that sale?” No, the guy starts running. Yes, I mean literally running and he transacts business (gives you the gum, takes your money and makes change) all while running with the car in the 4 lanes of traffic with trucks and millions of motor cycles and ditches and rivulets, etc. Now, this is what I call HUSTLING!” I look at all that industry and I think we don’t know nothing about hustling in the U.S.





So that’s one part of Lagos, then there’s the upscale part of Lagos which we saw from afar but really didn’t have much time to explore. Pammy was still working when we got to Lagos. 20 of the students who participated in the leadership program were chosen to go to South Africa for a study tour that she is organizing. So Pammy was trying to get all the letters and visas and do the follow-up to last week’s program. She had to stop by the American Embassy and the House of Assembly in Lagos.



We also went to visit Pammy's friend (her assistant when she was working on another project)and her family who lived in a "suburb" of Lagos (don't think uniform homes and manucured lawns. The kids were so cute. The little girl is named "Pamela" after you know who.

(Our hotel)




So Lagos has fabulous hotels, restaurants, homes, etc. In fact, a woman who I know from law school, Teresa Clarke is running an organization African.com that connects Americans to Africa (culture, finance, travel) sent me a great one day itinerary for Lagos. But unfortunately I didn’t get it in time. See what she suggests at http://www.africa.com/


Lagos is expensive!! We stayed in a nice hotel in Ikeja (one of the islands in Lagos), but Victoria Island is supposed to be hopping as you can see from Teresa’s itinerary. I did get to go shopping at Lekki market. It has lots of great arts and crafts, but I couldn’t carry it all back to the U.S! I settled for a few trinkets for the family.
Pammy and I have decided our next trip: Lagos (including yoga and fancy restaraunts) and then on to Ghana!
Until then,
V.
V.