I was finally able to get to town to price a car. I would like a Range Rover but, seeing as I can’t afford the N22,000, I have decided to settle for the cheapest, a VW Beetle. It will be nice to have a car and then I’ll be free to visit people and do my shopping. People are very generous, especially the Filipino teachers; they have taken me into town when I’ve run out of things. I’m still not sure about using the public transit as I really don’t feel like paying three times more than the local people.
Mila is especially kind to me. One day she took me into town to buy fabric to make curtains for my house. When I asked her how I could pay her back she said, “Do something kind to another person.” She has about 5 children but she has only two with her in Kano; the other 3 are at home in the Philippines with family members. Her husband is in Saudi Arabia so they meet when they both go back home. When she returns to Kano she brings a different two children.
The Filipino teachers have a dog and these dogs definitely dislike the Nigerians. I think they go by body odour and they know they are close to a Nigerian when they can smell the spicy food coming through their body pores. They don’t bother me that much. Maybe it’s because I’m British and we have the saying, “Men sweat, women perspire but the British, they glow!”
I was very proud of myself in the market today. While I was buying vegetables from my favourite Alhaji there was a young man who kept pestering me to buy baskets. I seem to be buying a lot of baskets lately! I ended up with one that’s so big I could hide in it during a student riot, which seem to happen quite frequently. The boy reminded me that I would be paying a lot more than his price if I was at the hotel. I told him that that was why I was at the market and not the hotel. I was even more proud when a Nigerian friend told me how much he’d paid for a similar basket - it was the same price that I’d paid. So was it my bargaining skills or luck?
Hussaini told me that when he gets a ride with a friend to the market he asks to get out of the car so that he can walk into the market. In this way he can buy more cheaply than if he arrived at the stall in a car. I’m glad that there is a hierarchy of prices among the native people. I don’t feel so bad having to pay more than most people because I am getting a good salary so I can afford it. In the beginning I would stand behind the people bargaining and I would watch what they were paying. I would then offer to pay the same amount. No way! The seller aways laughed and said that we had to start all over again. This meant I always ended up paying more than the local folk. Another thing I’ve learnt is never to discuss prices with people who have bought a similar item. If you do, you are either disappointed because you’ve paid more or happy that you’ve paid less.
You should have heard the teachers in the staff room today when we were told that our teaching load was being increased. I have one of the heaviest loads at 16 1/2 hours per week. They muttered even louder when I told them we were in school, in Canada, for around 35 hours a week. I am still amazed when I see monitors coming into the staff room to tell a teacher he should be in class. Why anyone doesn’t want to teach these boys is beyond belief - they are lovely, and I’ve never had such a good time in the classroom. They never misbehave and so I can relax and enjoy being with them.
It seems that the staff have been living in the school houses and not paying any rent. Now they are being caught for six months arrears and, although it only comes to N180, they are insisting it should be paid in instalments. There were the usual complaints about the state of the furniture, which I suppose is a bit fragile, but I can’t complain. I went to visit Edwin last night, for a game of scrabble, and found his little daughter merrily sawing her way through the arm of a chair. None of the furniture has backs so before long, if the daughter carries on, they will have nothing but legs and a few cushions.
When I packed my bag in Canada I should have used rags instead of paper to wrap things. I need dusters! The Harmattan wind blows constantly and covers all my furniture with a fine dust. The wood is mostly plywood and so it’s not smooth. When I polish anything my rag ends up torn to shreds. One good thing about the dust is that I can pick something up and I know exactly where to put it back.
