Library

Main library

Issue desk

Most days now Fraser is getting a lift into TCNN to make a start on the library.  A lot of his time is spent thinking and planning the most efficient way to catalogue the collection.   When the power is not reliable (it’s an event if we wake up to mains electricity and if we do then it’s often off again for the day before we’ve even had breakfast: toast is a rarity in the mornings now) it’s difficult to work out how to develop the ideal of a computerised catalogue which would be available to students for more than a couple of hours a day.  That’s one of the issues Fraser is wrestling with.  Another is internet access as most people get online via a dongle for each individual computer. Wireless broadband (if it’s even available here) is a far distant dream.  Managing staff who have more or less been left to their own devices for some years is another, this time unfamiliar, challenge.  To do it in a culture we’ve only lived in for four weeks makes it even more daunting.  One thing’s certain, there’s enough work to keep Fraser occupied for years.

Librarian's office

Reference section

My work in the last week has taken a bit of a back seat as I’m getting accustomed to fending for myself.  It takes time to find out where to buy what – where are the best vegetable stalls, fruit stalls, should I risk meat from the market (left out in the heat all day, would even my trusty pressure cooker kill everything that’s been growing)?  It takes some getting used to the concept that buying in bulk does not usually make economic sense.  One kilogram of sugar costs N100, 2kg costs N250.  I’m also having to look at ingredients on packaged food closely too.  There is a Cadbury’s Nigeria but unlike the Cadbury’s in the UK, here they still load food with hydrogenated vegetable fat.  It’s not just Cadbury’s, this carcinogenic, cheap bulking ingredient is prevalent in many foodstuffs, including peanut butter from the USA.  It’s a bit of a hobby-horse of mine but harmful ingredients which have rightly been removed from food in the UK should not be palmed off on people in poorer countries who don’t make a fuss.

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.