This is a tale of two blogs; many of you follow the links off to the side and read Bryan and Kara Slater’s adventures in Lagos. In Bryan’s latest posting, he gives an insiders view of the recent Nigerian elections. This will be an insiders view on Bryan’s view.

Thursday afternoon at a little after one in the afternoon we got word that Friday would be a national holiday. This really wasn’t much of a surprise because the government did the same thing last Friday before the gubernatorial elections. The reason for declaring a holiday is almost biblical: people need a day to get back to their hometowns to vote, much the way Mary and Joseph had to return to Bethlehem. A more cynical person would say the reason for the holiday is give all the members of the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) a chance to mark the ballots for everyone in their hometown. Along with the holiday, it was announced that Saturday would be a no movement day. People could get out and walk or drive to their polling place but otherwise you should stay off the streets. To enforce the rule Lagos State was bringing in an extra 10,000 police officers. With all this in mind all of us flat residents were settling in for a long weekend. The pool deck filled up early Friday morning, the tennis courts were in full use and life was good on a “Nigerian Snow Day”

For a certain flat resident, this idyllic calm was too overwhelming. “Right outside the gate history is in the making.” “ We could be watching the birth of a democracy. “ “Besides don’t you want to see what a city of over 14 million people looks like when there are no cars on the road?” This was Bryan’s reasoning for a little walk outside the compound. Now if I was sensible, I should have just said “no” and stayed by the pool, but to be honest I was curious to see if you could tell 14 million people to stay home.

So, I grabbed the camera and went and met Bryan in the courtyard. Joseph joined the adventure and we prepared to set off. As we left Tom said, “If you three idiots end up in jail, don’t come crying to me.” Not quite the words I wanted to hear and I began to contemplate escape options. As we walked through the garage I thought, “I could tell them the battery in my camera is dead and run back to the flat.” As we approached the back gate I thought, “I could tell them I forgot the memory card in my camera and run back to the flat.


At the back gate, we tried to convince the mopol officer with the big gun that it would be fun to walk around with us. He was pretty emphatic that he was not gone to leave his post to walk around with us oyibos. Once again, the thought of running entered my mind.

Now the street outside the compound is usually pretty busy. Lots of traffic, okodas, and quite a few souya stands. On Saturday…Nothing. Goats…yes. A few dogs…yes. Cars…no. People…the three of us.
We walked down the middle of the street amazed by the fact that you could tell 14 million people to stay home and they would. We took a few pictures of the deserted street. I took a picture of my favorite pile of dirt next to my favorite pothole that the pile of dirt might at one time have been piled there to fix. As we walked, Bryan used his Pidgin English skills on the few people out on the street. Now, my Pidgin skills are very limited but I’m sure the response was not, “Hello Gentlemen. How are you on this fine day.” I’m pretty sure it was, “Hey! Look at the stupid oyibos walking around on a no movement day.” I wondered if maybe it was time to run. Joseph asked a couple of the guys sitting in the shade where a polling station was and after a few hand gestures and headshakes, we headed off in the general direction. Now we are used to voting in churches, school auditoriums, and fire stations. The polling place we walked up to was under a tree, just off a courtyard. We could tell it was a polling place because of the posted signs, the 6 police officers with “election official” tags over their badges, and a large clear plastic box that said “ballot box.” We talked with the polling volunteers: found out that the voting had been quiet, got to see the ballots (you use your thumbprint to vote for the party of your choice), and were politely told that it was not allowed to take pictures. It was interesting to see the process that we had been hearing about every since we got here.

I was feeling fairly comfortable out and about now and eagerly agreed to walk down a few more blocks to the Lekki expressway to see what the busiest street on Victoria Island looked like on a no-movement day. The street was deserted. Joseph told us about several near death experiences he had had trying to cross the street to get to the gym. I got a picture of Bryan in the police booth and we headed back to the compound.
We decided to walk in front of 1004 and enter the front gate of the compound. This way we could see one more polling place.

As we walked down the street, I took a few pictures of the abandoned buildings that are part of the 1004 and I discreetly took a long-range picture of the ballot box from half a block away. I put the lens cap on the camera, turned it off and caught up with Bryan and Joseph.

When we got with in 15 feet of the polling place, which had a few more people around it than the first one, Joseph announced, “We are hear to vote.” Much laughter came from the two polling station volunteers and a lady who was there voting. No laughter from the group of men and women in black uniforms with the “election officer” tags. As we got closer, two of the officers got up and met us. Bryan asked in his conversational pidgin, “Any wahalas (problems) here today?” The second officer started to answer the question but then the first officer starts saying, “Why you take snap? You can’t take snap here!” I began to run through my pidgin vocabulary…what is snap? As the officer grabbed Bryan’s camera I figured out that “snap” is a picture and that he thought Bryan took a picture of the ballot box. No Bryan wouldn’t take a picture. In fact, I could hear Bryan say, “I didn’t take a picture.” The guard was very insistent that Bryan did and now all eight of the officers were off of their seat. I could see the front gate of AIS and mentally started to figure out if my limited endurance could take me that far on an all out sprint.

Now as Bryan tried to talk with the guy that had his camera the woman that was voting started to yell at police. “Don’t talk to them that way. They aren’t doing anything.” Oh, this isn’t going to be good I thought and sure enough all eight of the police officer started yelling at her for yelling at them. Bryan was still trying to talk to the guy with his camera. The yelling intensified, the woman was now yelling at the police for yelling at her. The police were yelling at her for yelling at them while they were doing their job. Ok..I thought..if any body else starts yelling, I’m running. The woman’s friend is now holding her back, the two polling workers are yelling at every one to calm down. Because there were 8 police officers, they could continue to yell at the woman and the guy with Bryan’s camera turned his attention back to us. “You can’t snap here it is wrong. You are trying to make Nigeria look bad.”

“No, we like Nigeria. We teach Nigerians.” There are no pictures. Just pictures from Kenya. Can I have my camera back?”

“No. No camera. I will call my boss. You will talk to him.”

Ok...before the boss shows up I am running. Then the lady yells, “Just leave the reporters alone.” Bryan and I yell, “We are not reporters! We are teachers.” A crowd is gathering. The yelling is still going on. There is no movement on the camera issue. Joseph is now standing beside me and he says, “ I’m going back and getting one of the guards.” I am thinking, “Wait, I will run back and get one the guards.” But Joseph is gone. I can’t leave Bryan here alone; he doesn’t want to leave without his camera. While he negotiates, I kinda listen but I am planning exit strategies. If four more people start yelling, I’m running. If another car pulls up, I’m running. If someone says reporter one more time I am running. If the two officers that have gone back to sit in the shade stand up again I am running. I have multiple exit strategies and there are all based on the fact that I don’t want to go to a Nigerian jail.

Bryan is in serious bartering mode now. “Keep memory card, I’ll take the camera.” Keep all the money in my pocket, I’ll take the camera.” He breaks off every once in awhile to ask, “Where is Joseph?” I want to tell Bryan that I will run back and find him, but instead I tell him he went for help.

The guy is unwilling to negoiate. He says we need to talk to his boss. Bryan asks if I have my cell phone, which I do and asks if we should call the embassy. The embassy is a long ways away. I’m thinking that it is time to run. There is still yelling there are more people and I still have my camera. Instead of that I listen when Bryan says, “Call Tom.”

“Hey Tom. We could use a little help here. We are at the front gate in front of 1004. The police have taken Bryan’s camera.”

Silence on the other end but I can still here the word, “Idiots.” “Ok,” Tom says, “I’m on my way.” I pass this news on to Bryan who asks where Joseph is. I can’t answer because now I’m trying to convince a cop that I didn’t snap and that I should get to keep my camera. Man, I should have run. I’m not sure what I said, but the guy believes me and lets go of the camera. I look back towards AIS and I can see Tom and one of the security guards. I look the other direction and here comes Joseph with the mopol guy. Ok, maybe I don’t need to run.

Tom shows up, schmoozes for 30 seconds with the election people, tells the officer that the camera belongs to the school and he can’t keep it, and still manages to give Bryan and I an “I told you so look.” The officer tries to take the film out of Bryan’s camera, which is hard to do with a digital camera. He gets frustrated, hands Bryan back the camera, and we start walking back to AIS. Tom tells us, “Hey, you could turn around and take a picture now and we could make a run for it.” This is what I have wanted to do for over an hour, but now I realize that of the four of us, I am by far the slowest of the bunch. Running doesn’t sound like a good plan now.

The 1004 Polling Station
This Saturday was another no movement day. We all stayed in the compound. I didn't think of running all day long.

Egypt 2007

The Great Pyramid of Cheops


Riding Camels

Ramses II at Memphis

The Step Pyramid


King Tut (King Tut)
Now when he was a young man,
He never thought he'd see
People stand in line to see the boy king.

Steve Martin

Well to be honest, I never thought I would see the boy king. But, once again that little phone call last April has made a lot of “I never thoughts” possible. We just spent our spring vacation in Egypt and it was an amazing trip.

We started in Cairo where we spent more time in the airport than we would have liked too. Not because of a long immigration line or extensive passport stamping, but one of our bags couldn’t find its way on to the plane. Sooner or later, a bag is bound to get lost and at least this time we had help from the Tour company representative. Forms were filled out money was collect…200 Egyptian Pounds otherwise known as 40 dollars. We left the airport and made our first Egyptian stop..A MacDonalds… Got to love traveling with kids. We just made it to the hotel and Emily and Jacob were ecstatic to find out that they had the DisneyChannel.

The next morning Mohammed, our guide, met us in the lobby and we were off to explore the City. Everybody has seen the pictures, but when you are driving down the street and you catch your first glimpse of the pyramids your mouth drops open and you forget to breathe. They are that amazing. The kids had their face pressed to the windows in a flash. Mohammed explained about the construction, the purpose, the size, but to be honest I didn’t hear any of it, I was totally lost in the fact that my hand was touching something that had stood for thousands of years and is the only remaining Wonder of the Ancient World. “Time has not damaged the pyramids, it is only man that has worn them away.” Mohammed told us. Pretty deep insight that didn’t soak in at the moment because we were headed to the obligatory camel ride. Now, this was not my idea. I look at a camel as a tall horse, and I’m not that fond of riding a horse. Despite what you see in pictures the Pyramids of Giza sit in the middle of the city, but when you are on a camel riding across a sand dune with the Pyramid behind you the city and the present completely disappear. After the camel ride we hopped back in the van drove 500 meters and turn left and there we were in front of the Sphinx. It is smaller than you think, more weathered then you believe, and still it is everything you have ever imagined. In case you were wondering at this point, we have taken 97 pictures and it is a little after noon.

The next stop on the tour was further north along the Nile River. The first pyramids and the first capital of Egypt were built in Saqqara. The first pyramid is a called the step pyramid and it is built in serious of layers, each on smaller than the on before it. 150 years later the technique was perfected and you have the pyramids of Giza. Nearby is the Egypt’s first capitol, Memphis, and this is where we had our first of many encounters with Pharaoh Ramses II. This guy ruled Egypt for 67 years and during that time; he managed to get his face everywhere. Not content with life size statues, he had himself carved in stones of massive proportions. We thought he was big in Memphis, but that was nothing compared to his size at Abu Simbel. We headed back to Giza for the sound and light show, which was a little over dramatic and loud. Emily gives it a big thumbs down. The best part of the show was getting to take pictures of the pyramids and Sphinx as the sun set.

Day two in Cairo was spent exploring its Islamic roots in the same clothes that we wore on the plane and on Cairo day 1. We visited the 12th century Citadel and the Mosque of Mohammed Ali, the leader of Egypt in the 1800’s not the boxer. Then it was a tour of Coptic Cairo. I have to admit that I have always thought of Egypt as an Islamic country. I remember that Moses led the Jews out of Egypt during the Exodus, so in my mind that left Egypt to Allah. The Coptic area of Cairo changed all that thinking. In less then a 100 meters there is a synagogue, a mosque, and an Eastern Orthodox Church. Although the Jewish population of Egypt is declining, right now 15% of the population is Christian. The afternoon was spent exploring the Egyptian museum. We saw mummies, not just the sarcophagus, but the real live (well, real dead) mummified bodies of several pharaohs. We walked past the funeral mask and gold coffin of the boy king, Tut. The museum is huge and stuffed full of more artifacts than could possible be seen in a decade. There are gigantic statues and gold sandals. Mummified monkeys and loaves of 3000-year-old bread. There are crates of artifacts scattered through out the museum that have not been unpacked.


The Pyramid of Chepron at Night

The Mosque of Mohammed Ali


The Night Train to Luxor

In the Valley of Kings

We left the museum and headed to hotel for a quick snack and chance to freshen up before our next adventure, a sleeper train to Luxor. We had two reserved compartments, which quickly became segregated into a boy room and a girl room. Jacob was completely enthralled with the whole set up and quickly went to exploring every nook and cranny of the compartment. After an in-flight, or is it an “inrail” meal, Jake and I watched as little towns rolled passed our window. One of the coolest things about Egypt is that people are out and about in the towns. They are sitting outside cafes and playing soccer in the streets, and walking through the towns well after dark. Soon the conductor knocked on the door and we stepped into the hall, while he turned our seat into a bunk bed. Of course, Jacob and Emily had staked claim on the top bunk and we were all soon rocked to sleep.

Day 3 of the trip and Day 4 of the same clothes started with a knock on the door and breakfast at 5 am. The train pulled into Luxor station just before 6 am and we headed off to pick up our guide, Sayed, on our way to the Valley of the Kings. The valley is a dusty trail between two dusty piles of rock the stretch up to blue desert sky. There are 73 tombs in the valley including the tomb of King Tut. Your ticket gets you into three tombs, and I don’t think it matters which tomb you see, they are all incredible. Carved into the limestone, the corridors lead deep into the surrounding hills. Now, if you give me all the known measuring tools in the world, a laser guided table saw, and precision titanium guides I couldn’t make a straight cut on a piece of wood. The Egyptians of the New Kingdom managed to vertical walls in stone with a hammer and chisel. Then they went to work with decorating. Paintings, stories, carvings, columns, and row after row of hieroglyphics cover the walls. The large outer stone sarcophaguses were still in many of the tombs. It was beyond imagination.

After the tombs it was temple time: Hatshepsut, a female ruler of Egypt, Karnak, and Luxor. These temples are huge, elaborate, and beautiful. Sayed was with us for the entire trip up the Nile. His knowledge of Egyptian history and mythology, plus a great sense of humor added to every exploration. He gave the kids Arabic cheat sheets to study so they could say "hello", "thank you", and other useful phrases.

Cruising down the Nile is as cool as it sounds. The boat was practically new and practically empty. The Nile leaves a band a green through the sand dunes on the western bank and the rocky hills. We sat on the sun deck and watched history roll past us. Small towns, carts pulled by donkeys, palm trees, and small farms filled the green space, all nourished with water from the Nile. We spent three full days on the boat and were entertained with belly dancing, whirling dervishes, and other ethnic dances. We toured the temples of Edfu, Kom Ombo, and the amazing beyond belief Abu Simbel. We walked the streets of Aswan, a Nubian village, and Edfu. Gina purchased scarves, spices, and jewelry. We rode on camels, in horse drawn carriages, sailed in feluccas, and cruised in motorboats.


The Egyptian God, Anubis, in the Temple of Hatshepsut

Looking towards the Sanctuary at Karnak Temple

Emily checking out the ruins of the Karnak Temple

Laundry day in Edfu

The shores of the Nile River

We eventually got to change clothes too. Our missing bag appeared on the cruise boat the morning we left Luxor. Of course we had stopped to buy some new clothes the night before. But even with that glitch I have to agree with Steve Martin…..

” Now, when I die,
Now don't think I'm a nut,
Don't want no fancy funeral,
Just one like ole king Tut (King Tut)

He coulda won a Grammy,
Buried in his jammies,
Born in Arizona, moved to Babylonia,
He was born in Arizona, got a condo made of stone-a,
King Tut”


We are loving Egypt

A Nile river cannonball

In this blog, the Rainbolt Family will leave the walls of the AIS compound and journey out for a weekend. They will not travel to another country or a secluded beach resort. They will, in fact, travel 150 miles into the heart of Nigeria to the city of Ibadan.

The Rainbolt family will be joined in this overland adventure by Jim and Melody Vincent, Joseph and Mary Teague, and their fearless driver Amechi. The brave travelers will battle heat because the van’s air conditioning isn’t working. They will battle boredom as the van sits in Lagos traffic for hours. They will be amazed by an expressway that looks like the longest truck stop in the world. Their noses will be assaulted by the smells of burning vehicles and small brush fires.

The Nigerian Field Society organized the trip to Ibadan and the IITA campus. The IITA campus is a research facility specializing in tropical agriculture. The campus is huge with a lake and a nature preserve. It was an opportunity to see a little countryside and feel like there was some space around all of us. We would also take a trip to a small village north of Ibaden known for its weaving and have a chance to do a short hike.

The caravan left Friday afternoon and battled the Lagos traffic along the Ibaden expressway, which at times seemed like a parking lot for every lorry in Western Africa. We arrived at the International Institute of Tropical Agriculture, IITA, campus before sunset. After a quick check in the group found time to sit outside and share travel stories and living in Nigeria stories while we waited for dinner.

After an early breakfast, we left Ibadan for a trip to the weaving center of Iseyin. Young boys were carrying out the village traditions on their great-grandfather’s looms. With hands sending the shuttle flying back and forth and feet moving rhythmically up and down the weavers worked on producing bands of woven cloth; and we worked on taking as many pictures as possible. From the looms, we followed the process backwards to see the yarn stretched and dyed, and then the finished product was pounded with wooden mallets to make it shine. A trip to a small, dark building on the outskirts of the market provided everyone an opportunity to purchase meaningful souvenirs.

An added bonus in Iseyin was the opportunity to watch the local pot maker turn scrap metal into cookware. The process which included a charcoal blast furnace kept at high temperatures with a bicycle wheel bellows, a large supply of sand to use as a mold, and the on-looking eyes of the whole neighborhood showcased the resourcefulness of the Nigerian people.

For those of us who had been cooped up in Lagos for the last few months the trip from Ieysin to Ado-Awaiye was a soothing view of open land, big sky, and monolithic inselbergs. The climb of one of Yorubaland's most famous inselbergs gave all of us a chance to stretch our legs, work up a sweat, and develop an appetite for lunch. The view from top was amazing with the green forest and rust metal village roofs of Oyo state visible for miles.

Many of us found our way to the poolside when we returned to the IITA. It was a wonderful way to wash the trail dirt of our bodies and the snack bar provided a multitude of ways to wash the dust out of our throats.

On Sunday, we took advantage of a leisurely departure time to explore the IITA grounds, which include a lake, agricultural research fields, and a preserved section of natural habitat complete with thick growths of bamboo. Then once again we piled into our cars and set off to explore the city of Ibadan. The kids on the tour enjoyed wondering through the former British Colony Headquarters and the adults once again gave their cameras a workout. Next on the tour was a visit to the Ibadan History Museum and its excellent display of Yoruba musical instruments, pottery, and masquerades. A special treat awaited the group at the next stop. What was supposed to be an architectural highlight turned into musical celebration. The art gallery, designed by one of the first African architects to break from European traditions and incorporate African design elements into his work, hosted a performance of local musicians and dancers.

Many of you have noticed it has been many months since we have updated our blog. Why? Well, just because to be honest, not much has happened here. We quickly fell into a routine that has taken us through February and March. Monday we all head back to school and early Monday evening Jacob and I head down to the field for baseball practice. We play catch, run, sweat, and get dusty then we head up to whatever meal Juliet has fixed. Check the homework, read, and then bedtime. Monday is done. Tuesday wake up fix breakfast, pack lunches and off to school. Tuesday afternoons I have a tennis lesson, and then I help with Emily’s baseball practice. A quick shower and then dinner, and we start the bedtime routine. Wednesday is another tennis lesson for me, the kids have after school activities, and Gina has her workout and then, every other week, her massage. The week is half over. Thursday has more time for homework and an occasional trip out for the Tex-Mex buffet at the GQ. Friday is movie night. Saturday is game day, the shopping outing, cub scouts, and usually a get together with friends. Sunday is pool day and phone calls home. Monday we start again.


As
Not much has happened to break that pattern. The sun rises and sets at the same time, the weather is hot, the power fails, and we just keep moving though the week. The kids get taller and Jacob’s hair gets longer. Every once in awhile we remember; we are living in Nigeria, we are in Africa! How did we get here and how did the idea of being here become routine? There isn’t any answer that pops into mind. So, that leads to the next question. Has this become home? Maybe. We definitely feel that we have some advantages here. The kids are doing well in school and are busy. They are making friends, going to birthdays, and having sleepovers. That sounds like home. Gina and I love our jobs; we enjoy our friends here, love the family time, and have enjoyed a few nice dinners out. That sounds like home. We are comfortable and feel safe, but we are still outsiders here. I’m not sure what it would take to call Africa home, but it is going to take more than a compound and a few months for me. I have read about people who come here and become captivated with the land and the people. We have met some very nice people and we have seen a little bit of the beautiful countryside. If it weren’t for the mounds of garbage, the beggars in the street, and the general turmoil of the place those things might be enough. Instead, we work our way through the week counting down the days to until we are off to some other place.