Life could never be boring here. If I do get bored with myself I need only look through the window at all the life going by. I’m fortunate being the last house on the compound because people from the nearby village take a short cut past my home to get to the main road. They come to my tap for water and the young men often bath in a hole that’s filled up with water just outside my house. Behind my home is a small home which houses some of the young Nigerian volunteers so I often see them sitting outside chatting or cooking.
I have a car! It’s a sky blue VW Beetle and I love it. The Kano government gave all the Canadians a loan to buy a car if we wanted to. Don didn’t bother so he has to use public transport. I don’t envy him as he’s in a rural school which means he has to use the local buses. He’s very tall so I’m sure it can’t be very comfortable for him. He’s become a bit of a recluse so I don’t see much of him. I suppose it’s a tiring job for him as he has to catch more than one mini bus to get here. I’m lucky because I live close to Kano and I have our field officer living on the compound plus some teachers from the Philippines and India. Others in the group are more isolated, living in rural villages.
I went to the vegetable market today to buy from the alhaji. “Alhaji” means he’s been to Mecca. One obnoxious habit among the Nigerians who do go to Mecca is to have their incisor teeth changed to gold. It looks creepy. I’ve no idea if their original teeth are pulled or if they just have a gold coating put onto the tooth. My alhaji hasn’t done that. My friend the school messenger came with me. He is a great help because he helps me to bargain. I was very brave this time and bought all sorts of things I haven’t bought before - paw paw (which is papaya in other parts of the world), mango and pineapple. A cheeky young salesman tormented me to buy some baskets. I really didn’t have any intentions of buying them but I couldn’t help liking him. I know, I’m a sucker for people who talk nicely and smile. I don’t know if I got a good deal but I came away with both his baskets. One of them looks a nice size for practicing snake charming and the other is big enough for me to hide in. We had fun getting them into my car. (I kept it for over 30 years and then I gave it to a friend who teaches weaving with willow. I met Caroline when Betty and Chris Harvey’s ashes were scattered on their property. Betty used to visit Caroline and they’d sit together in a shaded bower of trees for coffee and a chat.)
This afternoon I decided to do some tidying up around the house. No sooner had I started working when the friendly watchman appeared from nowhere, took the branches from me and started to do the tidying up himself. Why won’t people let me do things around my own place? Before long I’ll have forgotten what it is to work and then I’ll be useless when I get back to Canada.
A group of students came for me this afternoon. They just came to say hello but I decided to go with them on their walk. They really are the nicest lads and I learn a lot from them. They teach me about the environment, the plant life, village life and they are quite open to discuss aspects of their own lives, such as the clan marks many of them have on their face and body. I can’t help being fascinated by the marking; many of them are attractive and add to the boy’s character rather than detracting from it. The tattoos are not like the modern day tattoos that are enormous and in your face. These are delicate, with dainty, narrow lines forming patterns on their cheeks.
