in which miss maggie misses

A friend from church asked me last week the 5 things I will miss most about Nigeria.

In no particular order, they are as follows:
- That moment when a student "gets it." It feels like watching knowledge literally light in their eyes.
- That moment I don't feel completely out of place. It happens more frequently these days, but it still strikes me each time I do something right, culturally speaking. I will miss feeling like I fit in around here.
- Making a palpable contribution to society. There is such power and simplicity in replying, "I am a teacher" in response to the question, "What do you do here in Nigeria?" It gets me every time.
- The fruit. Seeded watermelon, pawpaw (papaya), sweetsop, guava, pineapple, and mangoes, mangoes, and more mangoes. I'm in real danger of crying when mango season comes around again and I'm not here to enjoy it.
- The contentment that comes with living a simpler life. I go to work, I come home, I rest, I catch up with family and friends back home. Sometimes I go out with friends, sometimes I go shopping at the market, but mostly I'm at home, working, watching movies, drinking tea, and reflecting on how amazing this life is that I'm living and how fortunate I am to be here, doing something I love. That "something" being learning a new culture and sharing my love for literature with kids who think I'm cool.

Now that I've fulfilled the sentimental quota for the day, I leave you with a humorous story:

I took a dozen 5th-, 6th-, and 7th-graders to a U.N. World Book Day event here in town. We took the school bus and drove down Embassy Row (so cool to see all the different embassies! The American one lived up to its nickname: "The Fortress."). We were one of 5 or 6 area school represented. All the students had read a small biography of Nelson Mandela and the Honorable Minister of Petroleum something-something came to discuss the story with them.
Madam Minister highlighted the story in which Nelson Mandela received his first name from an English-speaking teacher who couldn't pronounce his birth name Rohihlahla. The entire audience clicked their disapproval of the renaming. Madam Minister asked the students if any of them had ever had their name changed by a teacher.

One of my 5th graders stood up. (Skewer me now, please and thank you.)

My student told everyone how his teacher couldn't pronounce his Nigerian name so she called him Chris instead. Madam Minister spoke to him, but was looking at me as she said: "Well, I hope your teacher is here today and I hope she realizes that it's not okay to take someone's name away from them just because you can't pronounce it."

You guys, I just about died.

After the student sat down, I leaned over to him and said, "D---, that didn't happen at ICS, did it?" To which he replied, "No, miss. That was at my old school in the UK." To which I nodded grimly and considered that the damage had already been done. Not that it even needs to be said, but I was the only white woman in the room, and everyone gave me cold looks the rest of the day. Even the kids from other schools looked at me with deep accusing eyes; "Name Changer," they all seemed to say.

Oh, it was awful all right. In a hilarious sort of way.