Christmas Music in October

While I usually keep to a strict No-Christmas-Music-Until-Thanksgiving policy, I feel it is a greater sacrilege that I'm seeing 95 F in October and missing Fall completely. Besides, I'm on a different continent...I'm playing by different rules here. My current soundtrack is Sara Groves' Christmas album. Don't hate.

I'll post something poignant and introspective later this weekend. Which is not to say I've already written something and am delaying in posting it to build suspense...those are just the standards I'm setting for the post-yet-to-be-written. Let's catch up on a few pieces of news first:

I'm almost legally allowed to work in Nigeria. Almost. The process of converting my visitor's visa to a temporary work permit is really complicated, involving a copy of a copy of a copy of a form that got printed off the internet at some point a long time ago. Anyways, the Nigerian government now holds copies of my passport, vaccination records, teaching contract, and college diploma (!) and we're pretty sure they're going to let me stay. :) But more importantly, they're going to let me travel at Christmas and reenter this beautiful nation to which I'm slowly losing my heart.

I went to the FIFA World Cup U17 match between Brazil and Switzerland tonight. I don't know how Nigeria got the bid, but the tournament is being played at the National Stadium (which is across the street from our compound). The teams are practicing on the American School's practice fields, so FIFA gave them a whole section of VIP tickets for the tournament. The teachers that go to my church invited me to tag along, and I'm not one for turning down a chance to be an annoying sports fan. :)
For my first soccer match, it was pretty cool. Let's just forget about the moment when I realized that U17 means the players are under 17 years of age. Nope, 17 does not mean the number of teams in the league, Mag; way to make the connection. Anyways, so the match wasn't as big of a deal as I thought it was, but I met some new people and made some new friends.

Speaking of which, the friendships are coming--slowly, but they're forming. My counterpart at the American School, M, is in her early thirties and hails from Wisconsin. She has offered to help me plan Literature curriculum and even borrow her lesson plans for next semester; this is a huge relief and another answer to prayer. She's a Green Bay Packer fan and easy to talk to. I'm going over to her apartment after church tomorrow to help her dye her hair. Yep, female bonding at its best. :)

I also got a chance to talk with our new neighbor, L, who just graduated from college on the East Coast in May. He's Nigerian-American, and has returned to Nigeria for a few weeks to visit Rachel's sons. We talked for a while last night over tea and it was just really good to talk to someone my own age with a Boston accent and an understanding of American culture. We commiserated about graduating, moving on with our lives, and living far away from home. It was really encouraging and was exactly what I needed.

For those of you faithfully praying for my health, I appreciate it very much. I can breathe through my nose again, which really is a bigger deal than it needs to be. I've just never been so grateful for my health.



Countdown: In 6 weeks + 24 hours, I'm going to be on a plane home. Get excited.

First Quarter and Answered Prayer

The past 8 weeks have been baptism by fire, for sure. As of today, I've survived the 1st Quarter marking period and lived to talk about it. This is a specific answer to the prayer that God would equip me for this career.

I had some tough spots this week, including:
- Grading 26 Rough Drafts and Final Drafts (that's a total of 52 essays graded in the past 3 days!)
- Reading Devouring Redeeming Love in 2 days (making said grading very procrastinated difficult)
- Really sporadic electricity (resulting in a candlelight grading session on Sunday night)
- Adding a second ESL student (G's older sister, I)
- Giving a student an F in my class (It really was harder for me than for him, I think)
- Coming down with a nasty cold, complete with cough and congestion

On Sunday night, I prayed a very impassioned prayer, pleading with God to heal me of this cold. I know it's just a cold, but it arrived at the worst possible time of the Quarter. I prayed James 5:15 over and over ("And the prayer offered up in faith will make the sick person well"), believing that God would heal me. I even promised that when He did heal me, I would tell all my students about it. (Some people call this tactic "bargaining.")

I've had the cold for 5 days now. No healing.

My energy is nonexistant. My appetite is gone. Cramming in all these grades resulted in a string of late late nights - I slept 4 hours yesterday. I fell asleep at my desk during recess today.

But HOLY TESTIMONY, BATMAN! It's almost Friday, I've computed all my grades (59 students!), graded all the catch-up work from the past 8 weeks (by candle, no less!), and I didn't have to miss any school! I wasn't healed of this cold, but I have proof of Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me"!

Sometimes the answer to prayer isn't the Sunday School refrain of "Yes," "No," or "Wait." Sometimes the answer is: "I will strengthen you."

And for THAT, God deserves the glory.

Today, while struggling to make it through my 6th grade class, a student raised his hand and said with concern, "Miss Thomas, can you please sit down?" God love him, a 12-year-old boy cares more about my health than I do.

Lord, thank you for answered prayer.

Just Call Me Anne...with an "e"

I've always loved the "Anne of Green Gables" movie. The two-tape VHS set was one of my Christmas presents circa 1999. Mrs. O, my landlady, is also a fan of the franchise, and invited me to watch the first two movies with her. We finished the sequel tonight and I'm realizing more and more how much I'm like Anne Shirley.

Let me count the ways:
1. Anne Shirley was a headstrong, over-imaginative bookworm as a child. What a coincidence, so was I.
2. Anne Shirley took offense easily and tried to outdo everyone's expectations for her. Strangely enough, I do the same thing.
3. Anne Shirley became a teacher. Hmm...me, too.
4. Anne Shirley moved away from her home on P.E.I. to see a new part of the world by working as a teacher. Are we seeing a theme yet?
5. Anne Shirley was proposed to twice and turned them both down. I have been proposed to once since arriving in Nigeria (and declined)...so I'm halfway there.
6. Anne Shirley finally realized her true feelings for her childhood friend Gilbert Blythe only after refusing his proposal and after he fell sick with typhoid fever. Okay, the similarities stop there, I guess.

I'm not going to read too much into this comparison. It's just a movie. She's just a strong protagonist. And it's still just my overactive imagination.

Then again, if your name is Gilbert Blythe, I'd like to talk to you.

Happy 2 Months!

Dear Nigeria,

Happy 2 Month Anniversary! We've been in a relationship for 8 weeks so far, and I've loved almost every minute of it. I celebrated today by shopping at Garki Market, answering to the name "oibo," and sweating to the point of dehydration. Good times.

Look, Naija, I wanted to talk to you about something. You've been very good to me thus far--the very definition of hospitable--but I was wondering if you wouldn't mind turning down the heat. I mean, I know you and the Equator are really tight, but if you two decided to get in a fight and part ways for a little while, giving me a few days of sub-90 degree weather, I would really love that.

I'm sure we can sort this out. I mean, I'm in this for the long haul. I'm not giving up on you yet, Nigeria.

Love,
Maggie

P.S. We're taking a break for a few weeks in December, just so you know. I'm sure our relationship is strong enough for that kind of test. I'll come back to you, don't worry.

A REAL Update

Since the last two blogs were about chocolate and a hairdryer, and the 3rd contained the phrase "public urination," I think it's time for a more legitimate update.

Teaching is going okay. Teaching ESL is going really really well. My student, G, is 9 years old, as dark as his Nigerian counterparts, drops his s's when speaking Spanish, and hasn't quite grown into his adult teeth yet. The look on his face when he grasps a concept is something I will carry with me forever. Basically, he's a joy to work with and his parents are SO supportive of his learning English.
I learned this week that they are not only making him read in English every night, but they've begun speaking to him in English at home. From a cultural standpoint, I don't know how I feel about this loss of mother tongue, but from a teacher's perspective, he'll learn English a lot faster if it's all he's speaking and reading.
We've discovered that G can read English very well, but he often doesn't understand what he's saying. So today, we did a lot of sound recognition; instead of showing him a picture of an object and asking him to identify it, I read aloud a word and asked him to verify the Spanish translation.
He's learning school-applicable things: the question words (who, what, where, etc.), days of the week and months of the year, colors, shapes, ordinary objects, and simple phrases (how are you, please, thank you, you're welcome). We also study words united by sounds (cat, bat, fat, mat; an, man, fan, pan). We ended the day by walking around the library, pointing at colors and saying them in English and in Spanish.
To be honest, I'm totally making this up as I go along. I have no idea if this is the best way to teach him. I don't know how to teach a child another language. I don't know if I'm helping or hurting his learning with my methods or approaches. But G was happy today. He was smiling and laughing and told me he likes our lessons. And that's a good sign. I'm just trying to focus on G and not worry about compare myself to dwell on my incredible college roommate who is teaching an ESL class of 30 adults back in Chicago and contemplating a future in that line of work. She could teach him more effectively, I'm sure, but I'm doing my best and that's got to count for something.

Another facet to G's arrival at school is that I've adopted yet another set of cultural expectations. Greetings in Latino culture are completely different from American and Nigerian. I've gotten used to the extensive verbal greetings here in Nigeria, but when I saw G's father after school yesterday, he kissed me on the cheek - a perfectly acceptable greeting in Cuba, but unfamiliar in Nigeria! There were Nigerians around us and I think they were a little perplexed!

In other news, homesickness hit like a wall last weekend. I wasn't feeling well--my body has begun resisting spicy food, which is most inconvenient--and for the first time I allowed myself to dwell on how far I've come, literally. It is disheartening to consider the seven-almost-eight weeks I've been here in light of the 58 days ahead of me.
I remember similar feelings during my first semester of college. When we arrived and moved into the dorm, it felt like summer camp; it took a couple months to realize we weren't going home at the end of the summer. It's the same thing here: I've hit the wall, saying, "Okay, I've had my fun, I've learned about the culture, let's go home now." But I can't go home, and this isn't summer camp, and I'm in this for the long haul. God's not finished with me here yet.
So Saturday I just kind of moped around the flat, looking at photos online, letting myself be miserable. Monday night, however, the other ladies in our compound (Mrs. O and Rachel) came over for a visit and asked me to show them all my pictures. It was therapeutic to tell them about my family members and loved ones.
God is so faithful to have built a support system around me whose prayers reach all the way across the ocean. (By the way, you're a part of that system, too! Your comments and feedback on the blog make me feel connected.)

1 Timothy 4:10 "For to this end we toil and strive, because we have our hope set on the living God, who is the Savior of all people, especially of those who believe."

Chocolate

I'm not really that kind of girl. I don't crave chocolate, I don't need it on a daily basis. It is not my once-a-month drug, if you will. It's nice, and I'll eat it and I will enjoy it, but I don't feel the driving urge to seek it out and consume ungodly amounts.

Then I went 7 weeks without it.

That's right. I've eaten no chocolate since arriving in Nigeria, and honestly, I didn't really realize I wasn't eating it. Nigerians traditionally don't eat sweets (candy bowls and cookie jars do not exist here), which means chocolate is sold in specialty shops at very high prices. And I really can't justify spending money on candy at my age.

Enter Milka Alpine Milk Chocolate.

This stuff will change your life, folks. One of my expatriate friends, C, was in Germany on business last week and he brought back gifts for everyone. Jan and I received the biggest bar of chocolate I've ever seen. It went straight into the freezer and I more or less forgot about it.

Until 10 minutes ago.

And now the hum of the freezer sounds suspiciously like my name.

Vanity

Forgive me my vanity, but I just blow-dried my hair for the first time in 7 weeks.

And it is glorious.

That's all. I should be doing my work, but I'm not, so there's nothing new to tell. Except my hair dryer...mmm. Love it.

Fill-in-the-blank

In an effort to avoid talking about Obama and the Peace Prize (I thought the "A for effort" philosophy ended in 2nd grade? [Guess I can't avoid the topic entirely]), let's do a vocabulary exercise!

Fill in the blank with the appropriate word or phrase:

Nigeria is __________. Ready? Go!

One-word responses:
Heartbreaking. Vibrant. Breathtaking. Beautiful. Alive.
Broad. Sprawling. Claustrophobic.
Scorched. (And I'm not speaking geographically.)

Two-word responses:
Public Urination. ('nough said.)
Africa hot.
"Ah-ah" and "Sss, Sss." (Both colloquialisms, "ah-ah" encompasses a range of exclamations, from "No way" to "Be careful." The "sss" or hissing sound replaces the American attention-getter "Hey, you.")

3 words responses:
Phone calls home.
A great disparity.
"She's my aunty." (In reference to any older woman.)
New construction. Everywhere.

Phrasal responses:
Having people think I'm related to any other white person simply because I'm also white.
Sticky hot shadows on burning pavement.
Washing dishes and just hoping you don't get salmonella.
Suffering jokes about marrying a Nigerian.
Bad roads and worse traffic.
A row of buildings: bank, restaurant, bank, cardboard house with a corrugated tin roof and open fire, supermarket. (See "A great disparity.")

I could go on and on--and I probably will, when I learn new ways to complete that sentence.

Fully Alive

The following stories, anecdotes, and glimpses into my new life cohere together to create a feeling my best friend Laura calls being fully alive. (Shout-out to Saint Irenaeus of Lyons, who coined it first: "The glory of God is man fully alive.") I am, perhaps for the first time, in that state of feeling fully alive, and it is so glorious (pun intended) I don't ever want to leave.

First: Spanish. I have always loved this language. Even when the subjunctive verb tense threatened to undo me, I still thought it was beautiful. Moving to Nigeria, I realized, would not give me much opportunity to use my Spanish, but here I am, nonetheless.
On Sunday I remarked to Jan (my flatmate) that I might like to introduce a Spanish language and culture club to the school in the Spring, because I miss speaking it so badly. Maybe some of the students would enjoy learning a new language, in addition to the French they already take in school.
But then again, my God knows me well. Even before a word is on my tongue, my Lord knows it altogether. (Psalm 139:3-4)
Yesterday, ICS received a new student in 3rd grade. He is from Cuba, and doesn't speak any English at all. Guess who his new ESL teacher is?! I've been designated to help him find his feet as quickly as possible, and couldn't be happier with the prospect.
I found him on the playground today and introduced myself in Spanish. He didn't say much, but then after school when his father came to pick him up, Gabriel brought him to me and introduced us. We had a full conversation in Spanish, and I managed not to confuse my verb conjugations too much!
This is fully alive - using a passion that God has given to benefit someone else. Glory to God!

Second: representing Wheaton. The college fair went well yesterday. I think there were a few hundred students there with their teachers, from schools all over Abuja. We brought our 15 10th-12th graders, but there were easily 10 other schools there. I gave my little presentation in the morning session ("Deadlines are fixed, not fluid...") and everyone was very attentive. I wasn't nervous, but my kids told me afterward that I spoke too fast. I suppose some habits die hard.
When the tables were open later in the day, I settled in, expecting a few kids to stop by and ask a question or two. I did not expect the floods of students flocking to me because they'd seen me on stage, or the rapid-fire questions about studying medicine and law in the U.S., or the frenzy to sign up on the Wheaton list, even though they knew nothing about the school! I recognized some patterns in them that I've learned are classically Nigerian, and I finally refused to give them handouts unless they listened to my explanation of Wheaton.
Oh, my dear friends, please tell me how to explain the concept of a liberal arts college to a young man who wants to get to America at any cost, regardless of the fact that his English is virtually incomprehensible. Please also tell me how to inform two Muslim young women that Wheaton is a Christian school and accepts only Christian students. Given the dual nature of this city, I found that a particularly difficult burden.
The fair was organized like any typical American college fair, but the students brought the Nigerian flavor. Most of them approached my table and held out their hands, face-up, for whatever paperwork I would give them. Most did not greet, or ask questions, or even bother to look at what college I was representing. They just wanted the information, quick and dirty.
As frustrated as that left me, I thought about the possibilities of that day. Even if just one student follows up on the information I gave him, and goes to the website, or emails the Admissions Office for more information, it will be one more student that would never have heard about Wheaton otherwise.
And that's all my job is - to tell people about an experience that changed my life and that could change theirs, too. Besides, I don't think the Admissions Office can afford to send a counselor out this way very often, and since I'm already on the ground...
This is fully alive - to testify to the ways God changed your life by using the college you attended, and to know that the telling brings glory to the One who ordained it.

Third: Drama Club. We're already preparing our presentation for the Christmas program - The Nativity. Today, I taught 20 1st-3rd graders the song "We Three Kings." Then I convinced Kamsi to be an innkeeper, Tasneem to be a Wise Man, and Anisa to be a shepherd, even though all 3 wanted to be angels. Kamsi and Tasneem didn't take much convincing - I just told them that the angel parts require very little acting, so we needed to utilize their incredible acting talents for the more difficult roles (which, let's be honest, was speaking a little prophetically).
Tasneem's response? "You mean you give me the important part because you know I can do it?" Yes, my dear little one, and because the birth of Christ was attended by more than just 20 Nigerian angels.
Little Anisa didn't want to be a shepherd, but when I asked her if she was a very good big sister, she assured me she was. "All right, then," I explained, "Shepherds have to be very responsible people. They have to protect their sheep at all costs. And in the drama, they have to lead the other students onstage. Do you think you can handle that responsibility?" In response, I got a huge smile and the sweetest little neck-strangling hug there ever was.
This is fully alive - making my precious little ones proud of themselves. His Kingdom belongs to such as these, I get to love on them and receive love in return. Glory to God!

Fourth: Sixth Grade. This class can be talkative to the point of disrespect, and mischievous to the point of amusement. Days with them are a toss-up; it's just as likely to end in frustration or glee. Today was tough. The four loudest boys could not keep their mouths shut. While I followed the guidelines Mrs. O taught us yesterday at our staff training on discipline and told the boys to talk to me after class, they still didn't quiet down. After class, I sent them all out into the hall, and before I could even open my mouth to tell them how disappointed I was in their behavior, I began to affirm them. Respect and love, not anger or disappointment, controlled my voice, and I found myself telling the boys that they steer the behavior of the rest of the class. "You four boys are a very powerful group," I told them, "and if we work together, everyone else will follow you, too. But if you're distracting, no one else will listen to me. I need you to help me keep the class attentive. Can you do that?" Of course, the boys nodded, they will help me keep order in the class, because I told them they have the ability to do it.
Now, tomorrow, we'll know if that approach worked, but I loved that I didn't have to yell or get angry or even show my disappointment in them. We ended the day on a happy note, those 4 and I, and that left me grateful.
This is fully alive - encouraging a child to his highest potential and expecting them to live up to it. To call out the best in someone else because God calls out the best in you makes me feel purposeful and satisfied. Praise the Lord.

And I just showed up for my own life
and I'm standing here, taking it in,
and it sure looks bright...
- Sara Groves

Random Thoughts on a Monday

This is not going to be a pithy blog update. Sorry, but it's Monday, and I'm running low on pithy. Prepare yourselves.

1. New Friends. Through Facebook and a mutual friend, I've met another Minnesota native teaching English Literature in Nigeria. He's 200 miles away from me in the western part of Nigeria, but he's got a kick-face blog (tendrilofthought.blogspot.com) and you should totally be jealous of his photography. I so wish I could a) take pictures like that and b) have fast enough internet to upload them.

2. Taste of Winter. Today I discovered that I can taste snow here Nigeria. If you would like to know how this is possible, given that today's high was 82 F (23 C), kindly secure yourself a box of sugar cubes.
Next, freeze them in the freezer (so the ants don't get to them). Then, as you are about to drop two cubes into your steaming cup of tea, revert to childhood for a moment and pop one in your mouth.
Before you get it all slobbery and it becomes a puddle of congealed sweetness on your tongue, however, inhale through the cube. (Good lord, I feel like such a child for even typing that. Alas...)
Take a breath of frozen-sugar-flavored air, and in that moment, my friends, you will taste SNOW. Or, at least I did. And I thought about all my childhood winters growing up in Minnesota, eating not-yellow snow in the front yard, and it made my heart glad, even if I felt like a child for doing it.

3. I get to represent my alma mater tomorrow, and I'm obnoxiously excited about it! The US Embassy is hosting a college fair for American college and universities, and not only am I sponsoring a booth for Wheaton and bringing my 10th-12th graders to the fair, but the fair organizer asked me to give a brief presentation to everyone at the morning session about Admissions Deadlines in the American system.
You see, in Nigeria, time is relative. The phrase "I'm coming" could mean: "I'll be right there," "I'll be there in an hour," "I'll be there next year," and it also means "I'm leaving."
Translate that to the world of application deadlines and you can see how a culture gap could leave some aspiring college students in the lurch when it comes to getting into college.
So tomorrow, I'm going to tell all these Nigerian students that in America, we take our deadlines seriously. If the application materials have to be in by January 1, that means send it in before January 1, don't start thinking about it on January 1 and get around to it by February 1.
I'm going to wear a suit in an effort to convince everyone that I'm more than 15 years old. It's not likely, but I'm going to try.

Nigeria Day Celebrations

Since today is Nigerian Independence Day, ICS celebrated yesterday with a morning program for the parents. The whole day was a big to-do, and everyone dressed up in traditional Nigerian dress -- even expatriates, including me! It was truly one of the best days I've had since arriving 6 weeks ago. Below are just a few highlights from the day.

Everyone, meet my 11th grade homeroom class. These 4 students (yep, just 4) are known as "the angels" by the rest of the staff and it didn't take me long to agree with them. After my first week of school, the students presented me with cloth they'd purchased in the market; I had it made into the skirt and blouse you see in the picture. These students are some of the most hard-working and studious kids I've ever met; I'm routinely the first to leave the classroom at the end of the day - they love school so much they just stay. (Add that to the list of differences between America and Nigeria!) Also, let's just acknowledge now that I look about as old as they do. I know, I know.
And yes, that's me with my hair in plaits. I don't think it's the right style for me, but it definitely made me feel a bit more Nigerian! I also wore a traditional head tie during the morning celebration, but as the day wore on it became Nigeria-hot, and for the love of all things good and sacred, I had to sacrifice the head tie. Seriously. The Hot Season is headed my way and I'm already melting.

These precious faces belong to the two youngest girls in Drama Club, which I help lead. Our club performed a dramatic reading of a poem about Nigeria at the morning program, which I helped choreograph and direct. The young ones at our school are collectively known as "babies," not out of condescension but out of love and affection. These girls, my Drama Babies, give me hugs every time I see them. They light up my day.


These are my new friends Leke and Henry. Leke is doing his I.T. with us (it's like student teaching) while he completes his university studies, and Henry works in the Print Office at school (someone told me he's also a tribal Chief). The 3 of us are probably closer in age than anyone else in the school, and they're really easy to get along with. (Also, note my head tie.)