A fear overcome

It was that Home Economics lesson many years ago on the likelihood of the pressure cooker exploding if we didn’t follow instructions exactly, coupled with the scary, hissing, rattling noise my Mum’s pressure cooker always made as the captured beast inside fought to escape that instilled my fear of the contraptions.  In theory I agreed that they were marvellous inventions but I never had the courage to try one for myself.  That all changed yesterday.

I went to the market in Jos and spent a good time pointing at foods, asking what they were and how I’d use them.  The stallholder loaded me up with egusi (melon seeds which she ground up for me and which are used as a thickener), pumpkin leaves and dried fish, all ready for my first attempt at cooking with local ingredients.  Not wanting to give my family food poisoning, I decided that cooking at higher pressure would be best to kill off any lurking nasties and so was conceived my first solo experience of pressure cooking.  It didn’t help that the day’s storm arrived in the late afternoon and of course there was no mains electricity but with the help of my trusty torch I could flip between my Nigerian cookbook and pressure cooker instructions without too many problems.  I actually thought that the cooker wasn’t working it was so quiet – obviously in the forty years my Mum’s had hers they’ve discovered a way to keep the monsters out.  Everything cooked well and the meal was edible although somewhat lacking in spice (I’d held back with the spices so as not to overwhelm everyone but it’ll be different next time).  There are so many strange and wonderful ingredients available at the market but I’ll need lessons in how to use them.  I’ll take instruction from my househelp and end up producing something wonderful.  My big burgundy pressure cooker could well become my family’s best friend (wait for the sticky toffee pudding!).

Moving again

Yesterday we moved out of the hostel after staying there for three and a half weeks.  It was lovely to wake up this morning in a house of our own, although the thought of having to go back to shopping and deciding what to eat each night is rather daunting.  You can’t do a weekly shop to fill the fridge and freezer when for most of the day there’s no electricity to keep them at optimal temperature.  I’ve been longing to get a bit more settled and it was great to be able to unpack most of the suitcases but running a house in Nigeria will take a bit of getting used to. Next week one of Pamela’s househelps should be able to start coming on Tuesdays and Fridays so I only have to survive alone till then but with few modcons (no washing machine, no vacuum cleaner, intermittent electricity) I’ll be making lists of family chores today.

The Blue House

Living area

The house we’ve moved into is on a compound with a few other MA families although they’re gradually moving out or preparing to go on home assignments.  We arrive and the place starts to empty!  However, it’s good to be here with people we’ve got to know and we hope it’ll only be a month or so before our TCNN house is ready.  Realistically, I shall be happy if we’re settled at TCNN by Christmas but the day I can unpack the cases and put them right away for months will be one of great celebration.

Dining area

As well as being welcomed into this compound by its human inhabitants we were visited by a very friendly black labrador called Princess.  In the middle of a tremendous storm with thunder and lightning right overhead I heard a scratching at the flydoor. It opened and in came Princess looking very wary of the noise.  She headed for a corner of the room and settled down, trying to make herself as small as possible, not easy when you’re a fair-sized dog.  I was still wandering around sorting things out but now I was accompanied by a black shadow.  An hour later two bedraggled children came back from school, into the house for the first time and were delighted to find a dog came with it.  Once the storm finished she moved from the middle of the doorway (dogs and children seem to know instinctively the most inconvenient place to settle) and wandered off back to her own home.  I’m rather hoping she’ll pop by again today.

Sunset at last

We’ve been here nearly three weeks now and haven’t managed a photo of an African sunset.  This can change now.  Whilst I was doing my duty (i.e. listening to committed teachers and partaking of excellent refreshments) at a Hillcrest Middle/High School PTA open house meeting last night, Fraser was taking the opportunity to capture the brilliant sunset.  

It was very reassuring to hear the care the Hillcrest teachers feel for their pupils but I learned something last night that I haven’t broken to James and Ruth yet.  Just as schools in Scotland have time off for “snow days”, sometimes Hillcrest has to close for safety reasons if there’s unrest in the city.  In Scotland a snow day is a holiday.  Next week each Hillcrest pupil will be given a big brown envelope with their name on, full of two weeks’ worth of work in every subject that has to be done each day the school is closed.  If the work is not ready to be handed in when the school reopens then it has to be done on top of normal schoolwork.  Perhaps the Scottish schools could pick up some tips from this.

Wildlife

Another milestone passed – Fraser and I drove unaccompanied to and from TCNN in Bukuru and only went the long way round once.  There’s still an awful lot of work to do on our house there so in the near future it’ll only be Fraser making that journey regularly but at least he knows the way now.

Some people have wanted to leave comments on the blog but couldn't.  I think I've fixed that now.

I was out taking photos in the hostel garden today.  The brightly coloured little birds wouldn’t come close but here are a few of the other things I saw.

Pigeons get everywhere!

Ruth and Gracie Gaiya

 

Nigerian Church

 Today we went to a Nigerian church for the first time.  Pamela picked us up at 9:30 this morning to take us to the ECWA Plateau Church (EPC) on the outskirts of the city where we finally met her husband Musa, a lecturer at the University of Jos.  On the way we passed many Muslims going to the praying ground for the end of Ramadan celebrations.  There has been a bit of tension among the communities as we wondered if there would be any unrest but so far the day has gone smoothly. Perhaps it’s because there were so many more checkpoints and the roads past major church headquarters were closed but the large number of people praying for peace might also have had something to do with it.  Today was the first time I’ve been swept by a security wand and had my handbag checked before entering a church though.

ECWA Plateau Church

The EPC is a large and airy building.  Typically the congregation is about 800 adults and 400 children.  There was a ladies’ choir dressed in long white traditional clothes with red headties, a praise group with piano and drumkit and screens to show the words of the songs.  It was a good service.  The sounds of African worship reverberated through the building and through my body at volumes more reminiscent of a rock concert but with the rhythm, enthusiasm and tunefulness that’d you’d expect.  The bags for the offering were big enough to be used as sleeping bags for small children and the men present were told in no uncertain terms that they needed to attend the men’s fellowship meetings as research among the women showed that wives whose husbands did not go wished they would.

Sunday School Building

The special emphasis of this service was on caring for widows and orphans.  Instead of a sermon a panel consisting of a widow, a widower, a remarried widow, a remarried widower and an orphan were invited to talk about their experiences.  All were very open and said their main requirement was not money but the love and support of people they knew: that was the best way the church could minister to those in their position.  All gave testimony to the fact that whatever they experienced (in the case of the orphan this often included going without food for the day) God was always with them.  After each person had spoken a thirteen-point list of ways to prepare your family for the event of your death was put up on the screens.  If only our churches would offer such practical advice sometimes.

Musa & Pamela (in blue) coming out of church

We enjoyed the service.  The gorgeous African outfits (on men and women) mingled with more European-style clothes.  The concept of “Sunday best” has not been lost in Nigeria and, although we’ll wait until we’re out in Bukuru before we properly settle in a local church, we look forward to many more colourful and lively services.

BRiCC

Some people have accused me of marching to the beat of a different drum, of seeing things in an odd light, of questioning too much.  Yesterday I was given the opportunity to use these sometimes annoying qualities in a way that should help others.

BRiCC (Building Reconciliation in City Center (spelt by Americans)) has not been running long but is already having an effect in the Muslim and Christian communities in Jos.  It’s definitely not a Christian outreach programme.  The few westerners who are involved act merely as facilitators in the organisation, helping members of the two communities get together, study together, set up businesses together and realise that they can be friends.  For BRiCC to be of any use it has to be owned by the community and run as much as possible by Nigerians.  Its offices are in a mainly Muslim area of Jos, not far from the grand Central Mosque, although a few Christian families still live nearby.  Local teachers give up their time to take classes in computers, maths and English for children and also for adults.  There are special weekly “Peace classes” which all adults have to attend, trauma-healing workshops and classes in skills’ acquisition, entrepreneurship, how to run a business, sports sessions and anything else the community suggests and a teacher can be found for.  Ideally the classes are fairly evenly split between Christian and Muslim, that after all is the point of the whole thing, but many Christians feel uneasy about going into the Muslim area which is an issue that is currently being addressed.

It was only on Tuesday that I met Toby and Alycia, the American couple who started BRiCC.  When I visited the premises with Toby yesterday he said that on Tuesday night, out of the blue, a huge idea occurred to him.  The traditional style of teaching in Nigeria is extremely didactic; years of the military telling people what to do has often stifled independent, out-of-the-box thinking, people just read and repeat what is in the textbook.  Toby thought it would be a great way to repay the BRiCC teachers if we could help them think more creatively and teach more effectively: would I like to undertake this challenge?

When I started home educating James my main aim was to get him thinking independently, questioning, not taking things for granted (some would say I succeeded too well).  I think one of the most important skills in life is the ability to think round things for yourself, not to accept anything blindly, not to expect to be spoonfed (I could never have been a soldier).  The idea of being able to encourage people to think creatively and ask awkward questions appealed to me immensely: Toby seems to have been divinely inspired as the task seems to fit so well.  It is also rather daunting.  The theory is often easier than the practice, especially as I’ll be trying to communicate with adults from a different culture without being patronising.  If it is successful in helping people to realise that there’s not just one way to think it could go a long way towards helping community relations.  It’s a very exciting prospect.  If you'd like to support it in any way please get in touch.

New Clothes

I had a treat yesterday.  We were just leaving a compound after visiting Lynsey who’s suffering from malaria, typhoid and a chest infection when Pamela drove up on her way to pick up some new dresses from Women of Hope.  This is a ministry to widows and orphans which operates a tailoring business.  She asked if I wanted to go with her: I didn’t need asking twice, afterall, this was combining support for a good cause with the chance to get made-to-measure dresses.  Abandoning Fraser to walk back to the hostel, I jumped into her car and off we went.

Part of my problem in becoming familiar with the routes around Jos is that I’m far more interested in what’s going on at the side of the road than on the directions but I think I could probably find my way back to Women of Hope (one remembers the essential places!).  You turn off the main road and go along a dirt track to a building which houses rows of treadle sewing machines and the ladies who operate them.  In one room there’s a cupboard full of gorgeous pieces of cloth, another is full of patchwork bags of all sizes, bed linen, aprons, a few off the peg clothes; all handmade and beautiful.

 

Once you’ve picked your material you can look through magazines and sketches for inspiration.  If you like you can bring in your own design; I think they would tackle anything.  Next your measurements are taken, your requirements discussed and an appointment made for the fitting.  A week on Saturday I get to go in again to try on my dresses.  Fraser and Ruth want to be fitted out too so it’ll be a family outing, although so far we haven’t persuaded James that he would like Nigerian clothes.  He did make a very interesting remark yesterday though.  In Scotland he was in the Gaelic medium at Dingwall Primary.  Now “it’s rather surreal being taught in English at school.”

Just so you don't think life here is all about new clothes, later today I have to opportunity to visit BRICC, an organisation in Jos which is working to build relationships between Muslims and Christians through training and sport. I hope to be able to make a contribution to the work in some way so I'll post later on how it went.

Driving!

Our car!

In Britain I really liked our little Fiat Panda.  It was economical, environmentally friendly, nippy, could park in small spaces and hold a surprising quantity of stuff.   Yesterday we got our Nigerian car, a Toyota Sienna.  It’s huge (7 seats) and feels more like a small bus than a car but a little vehicle would be bullied and squashed on the Nigerian roads. It drinks up petrol but filling up with 65l of fuel cost under £30 as a litre of petrol is under 40p.

Fraser and I had our first goes at driving it on the main roads on the way to Bukuru accompanied by the very brave Luka.  I can’t believe anyone would drive for pleasure on Nigerian roads.  In its tips on driving well the Nigerian Highway Code booklet suggests that you imagine you are the only sane person on the road: that is a very easy thing to do.  I’m sure it’ll get easier with practice and getting to know the vehicle but at the moment I find it hard to believe I’ll ever be able to concentrate on the driving and finding my way at the same time.  I find it difficult enough to recognise where I’m going when I’m a passenger or walking but then we have only been here 10 days.  What I would like is a driver or a navigator or better still, someone who can combine the roles whilst I sit in the back and take in the fascinating sights by the roadside.

We drove to Bukuru yesterday so Fraser could actually see inside the library at TCNN and discuss with the Provost what his role would be.  He was extremely encouraged by the Provost’s desire that the library should be at the centre of college life and helped by his tips on how to lead a Nigerian staff.  Emmanuel, the acting librarian who’s actually a theologian rather than a librarian, showed us around.  It was clear that there’s a lot of work to keep Fraser busy and we could see how all his experience with the library changes at Highland Theological College and UHI have been preparing him for the tasks ahead.

I wandered along to see how work on our house was progressing.  It wasn’t but we sincerely hope something will happen soon.

Next I walked along to ACTS headquarters to see Luka Vandi the General Manager to chat about how I could help.  He took me along to Mrs Abiola, Personnel Manager, and we had a great time discussing God’s goodness in getting us to Nigeria and the protection he extends to his people.  Yet again I felt that merely by being willing to come to Nigeria we are being an encouragement to the Christians here.  It was a good type of personnel interview.  Basically I told her what I could and would like to do and she said she’d find me the work.  Fraser and I know there are quite a few more orientation things to do before we’re properly ready to start work but we feel as if we’re making progress.

Fast food wrapped in newspaper

It was good to be able to call in at Hillcrest for a late lunch of suya, masa and onions as we waited for James and Ruth.  As it’s our second week we thought it about time to try puffpuffs, lovely fried doughnut holes at only N10 each (4p).  We did discuss leaving a couple for the children but somehow by then all the puffpuffs had disappeared.

This morning we woke up to quite a lot of noise and chanting in the distance then saw a load of men and women jogging along the streets.  Auntie Rachel assured us it wasn’t a riot but the army going on a training run.  They run through different parts of the city each day and are told “to sing to make them happy”.  I’m not sure how happy they would be as it had been raining all night (so heavily that it was hard to hear the 3am mosque noise) and still was, but they were certainly doing their bit. 

Shopping

Another milestone was passed yesterday.  Not only had we been in Nigeria for a whole week but we negotiated a shopping trip into the centre of Jos by ourselves.  I must admit that it was a bit like a teenager’s shopping trip.  We asked for a lift from Luka, the MA driver, who took us into town then came to pick us up but we managed the in between bit all by ourselves.

Unlike British shopping areas, the roads seemed quieter yesterday than they did when we went in on Wednesday.  Usually I avoid Saturday shopping but I might have to change my habits here.  There’s a great mixture of small supermarkets and street stalls selling everything from white guavas to windscreen wipers, and we didn’t even go to the market.  I even located a jar of Hartleys strawberry jam which at 340 naira was only slightly more expensive than the £1.15 printed on the jar.  Sunday breakfast has been toast with strawberry jam as the electricity is on for a change and we can use the toaster.  It’s taking a while to get used to thinking in hundreds and thousands of naira and you certainly have to have a decent sized purse to carry the huge wad of notes required for any shopping trip.  Fraser was fairly satisfied with his negotiations for a belt for James although the speed at which the seller accepted his lower offer made him think it wasn’t low enough.  It’s difficult to get the balance right: you don’t want to be taken advantage of but at the same time you’re very conscious that they have so little and we have so much.  Having prices that are roughly comparable to those in the UK does help get a feel for what is reasonable for goods but it’s going to take some practice.

Still on the subject of firsts and purchasing, I was very pleased yesterday to complete my first successful download of a book onto my kindle in Nigeria.  It’s quite amazing what 3G can do.

ACTS

ACTS headquarters

Bible-reading technology

 Yesterday we took a trip to ACTS headquarters near TCNN in Bukuru.  It’s an amazing Christian bookshop, better than a lot in the UK, stocking everything from baby books to the collected works of John Flavel (I don’t know either but Fraser was impressed).  There were iBibles and e-reader Bibles and even “The New Birth” by our friend Andrew McGowan which was the first book I worked on for Christian Focus Publications.  As we toured the warehouse we saw the latest delivery, boxes and boxes from Banner of Truth which apparently will all be sold in a matter of weeks.  I’m looking forward to spending some of my time helping there.

Every church should have some "unavoidable books"

Who is this man?

Fraser meanwhile may well be suffering an identity crisis.  To most of us he is Fraser but in Nigeria the Americans hear Fraser as Frasier, on his Hillcrest identity card he is Thomas (his first Christian name), whilst to some Nigerians he is plain Jackson.  I’m only hoping he doesn’t develop as many different personalities as names.