This past Sunday one of the parents in Gina’s class invited us to join them on a trip to the beach. Now, who can say “no” to something like that? We left the compound that morning and headed to a marina not far from the AIS compound to take a boat ride up the Niger River. What a trip! What a day! What a great topic for a blog!
The Creeger’s have a daughter in the 4th grade and a daughter in the 2nd grade. The Westeburs, who teach here, and their daughter Bella, age 4 and the Rainbolt clan stuffed ourselves into the Creeger’s boat along with a driver and a guard. We headed off into the lagoon that separates Victoria Island from Ikoyo Island. Despite the signs posted all over to keep Lagos clean, we spent the early part of the trip dodging the trash that has been tossed into the lagoon. You get a very good idea of the discrepancy in wealth here in Nigeria from the water. Some gorgeous homes worthy of a water front view with large yachts anchored in front, then next-door a cinderblock shelter with cows and goats grazing near the water.
Soon we entered the main port of Lagos. Along one side was the Maersk Shipping Terminal stacked with containers just like in Tacoma. Then things change rapidly. Just off the terminal is the rusting hulk of another cargo ship half submerged in the river. On the other side of the river sat five small cargo ships that despite all the rust were still floating. It was like going back in time to the day of the tramp steamers. I kept waiting for the steamboat from the movie African Queen to come around the bend.
After leaving the main port the river turned due west. We passed several dugout canoes paddling upstream, villages on the banks of the river with nets drying out side the ramshackle huts. No sign of electricity, no satellite dish, no generators, just palm trees loaded with coconuts and thick green mangroves. The river runs like this all the way into Benin. Gina and I both finally got a sense of being in Africa; well almost because soon we arrived at the beach hut.
The hut, complete with a palm frond roof, sits on a narrow peninsula. On the east side of the hut is the Atlantic Ocean complete with crabs running up and down the beach. On the west side is the river. I’d like to say that we lugged the coolers of food and baskets of towels and sand toys up to the beach hut, but as soon as we tied up to the dock a group of Nigerians from the village nearby showed up and in traditional style piled things on their heads and they did the work.
It was a bit cloudy and misty still so the kids dug in the sand and we snacked and had a few drinks. Then it was a round of Bocci Ball, which the Westeburs proved to be quite the dominating team. The sun broke through and Todd announced that it was time to water ski. Yes, that is right, we went water skiing up the Niger River on the west coast of Africa. I couldn’t help but think of another movie, for me it was a total Apocalypse Now moment. Check out the picture with the blog and tell me you don’t agree. I skied and so did Gina. Both the kids did the kneeboard and then we headed out to the ocean to play in the surf.

What a day. Nigeria is so incredibly beautiful, but so different. Here we were on a tropical vacation while kids from the village lined the riverbank to watch us. We were playing with toys and of all things water skiing right next a fallen palm tree that their parents had built a fish trap next to for food. We were drinking cold beer and chilled wine probably 20 kilometers from the nearest refrigerator. We would head back to the city where we would shower and wash our clothes. They would do the same thing, but in the river. I saw a family doing just that as we headed back home.

This was a week for me to just remember how good I have got it. I get to have this amazing wild, completely different adventure with my family. We are seeing and learning something new every time we go out. Last weekend Jacob learned that if someone says they are hungry and asks for your popcorn, and you say yes; they are going to take your whole bag. We learned last night that goats, dogs, and horses can be smarter than some people about staying out of the middle of the street. We are learning that as crazy as political elections can get with hanging chads, uncounted absentee ballots, and Supreme Court decisions; they aren’t nearly as crazy as they can get here. Right now President Obasanjo, whose term expires this year, is fighting with his Vice President, Atiku Abubaker. President Obasanjo says that a bunch of public money somehow ended up in VP Abubaker’s freezer. He has also said that VP Abubaker’s campaign committee is illegal and had them brought into court. Also this week a plane with 12 of the Nigerian military’s top generals on board crashed as they were headed to a meeting about how the military would keep the peace during elections. I have the feeling that a simple recount would be a blessing here.
On the personal side of things I learned how lucky I am to have friends. I have friends that contacted me from half way around the world to say Happy Birthday. I appreciate email more and more with each passing day. I was also lucky enough to have people here give up some of there evening to come share cake and birthday wishes.
When you are having adventures it is so good to have friends who are willing to share them with you.

Some pictures from around AIS.

“So Tony we need to go to Elias Electronics. Do you know where it is?”
“No Sir,” was the answer.
“It’s past Lafayette.”
Finally a street address I thought. Tony said ok and we headed off to go get a cell phone. From the front seat I watched closely as we left the back gate of the AIS Compound and headed out. As usual I kept a sharp look out for street signs. I am bound and determined to get a sense of place each time we are out.
We zipped past the mineral fill up where empty soda and beer bottles are returned for full ones. Past Dream Plaza the closet mall, well actually department store with groceries, to the compound and then out on what is the main street running north and south, or maybe it is east west. No street signs.
Tony turned left and I saw Lafayette, not a street, but another shopping small. Two banks and a church later we were at the cell phone store, which was really a closet behind a Nike store. No bargaining this time and soon we were on our way. Another successful outing, without the aid of street signs.
Mr. Slater, our resident geography and GPS guru, explained to me that in Lagos it is relative location that counts. Most addresses here are based on your relation to another place. AIS is behind the 1004 Federal Apartment buildings so our address is Behind 1004. The 1004 is not a street reference, it is the number of units in the buildings before the military kicked everyone out. The buildings are being razed and will eventually become property of one of the oil companies.
So when we head to the Thistle for happy hour we are behind the Mobile Roundabout, which is the roundabout near the Mobile gas station. The tailor that is making our clothes for Nigerian culture day works “across from the containers”. The pizza place we went to this weekend is across from the Silverbird cinemas.
The main street we turned on runs east west, but I only know that because of Mr. Slater’s GPS, and I still wonder what is exactly is on the maps that are sold at the go-slows.

Lagos Traffic….Let’s see if I can you give you an accurate description starting from the ground up. As far as I can tell there are two paved roads on Victoria Island. Everything else is a pothole bordered with road. Did I say pothole? That may be understating them because many are the size of a bathtub, with the occasional hot tub sized hole just to keep you alert. The roads seem to vary in width depending on …random impulses. There are no lanes, there are no markings, and there are no traffic lights.

Now lets add cars. We have a range of vehicles in the big city. There are the big new four-wheel drive Land Rovers and then there are two door sedans, and garbage trucks that drag their shocks down the street. Then there are buses. Green and white Volkswagen vans from the mid 1980’s. They are crammed full of people, easily 12 to 15. The conductor hangs out the open sliding door. Remember the Volkswagen Rabbit? They are alive and well here, painted yellow; they have become the taxi of choice. It doesn’t matter what kind of car, the top speed on any given stretch of road is 35 miles an hour. There might be other cars here but I can’t be sure because it is hard to see through the clouds of black exhaust that follows most cars.

Now you have at least half the picture. On both sides of the car is the “okoda” lane. “Okoda’s” are motorcycles that carry at least two people at a minimum. They zoom up, down, around and through traffic. No one wears a helmet, but it seems that if you are a passenger, male or female, you should be wearing a business suit. For every car on the road there are three okodas.

We are getting close now. We have to throw in the street vendors. You need a toilet seat? Go for a drive. Pens, cell phones, peanuts carried on platters on the vendor’s heads, candy, and calling cards are all sold window to window. The vendors will run along side a car to make a sale. There are equal numbers of vendors and okodas. Almost there we just need to through in the beggars. Two types of beggars can be found in Lagos traffic. Mothers and their children are the more pleasant of the two. The mom holds the child up to the car window and the child smiles. Who can say “no” to a smiling baby? The other variety is hoping you can’t say “no” to a physical deformity. We drove past a man with what appeared to three legs the other day. At least we hope it was a third leg.

It is not 38th street for sure, but we still have more. Bring on the animals! Goats, sure why not? Dogs? Ok. Still pretty ordinary…I think we need horses. Yes, let’s have some horses wander down the street.

There are lots of bodies on the roads in Lagos, but they all move. We needed something to stop traffic. Lets put in some police checkpoints to stop cars to look at license tabs and driver’s licenses. Now we need something unofficial to stop the flow of cars. Area Boys run the unofficial checkpoints. Stop the car and hand over some Naira and you can pass. No Naira and you have to turn around.

Traffic would not be complete with out noise. One hand on the wheel the other on the horn. One long beep means (I think) that I officially claim this side of the road for me and I will not yield so move out of my way. Two short taps is a request. May I please squeeze in front of you? I only need an inch? A horn sounds every 10th of a second.

Does this explain why we took three hours to get an ice cream Monday night?