Wednesday, May 5, 2010

el cinco de mayo, skype, and coomy automobiles

Due to the public holiday on Monday, I totally spaced out that today was a Wednesday, in which we have clubs after school. I run Spanish Club, which started out really cool, but has gradually gotten lame. (Which is completely 100% my fault, I realize that.)

Right. So I totally spaced that today was club day and forgot to plan a "lesson."

Then I remembered: Today is CINCO DE MAYO.

Excellent. Thank you, Internet, for your vast teaching resources related to Cinco de Mayo. Thank you for your word finds and your word games. Thank you for saving my butt. And thank you, Wikipedia, for reminding me that Cinco de Mayo is not actually Mexican Independence Day (or even celebrated throughout Mexico [hello, Americanized holiday!]).

Two word finds and a game of Guacamole later, I survived Wednesday.

After clubs, I joined my flatmate Jan in her classroom as we waited for the kids' parents to come collect them from class. I called my mom and promised her a million dollars if she would sign on to Skype (I may or not be paying that). She's a great sport--I just wanted her to "meet" the kids of Jan's class (who are my favorite kids EVER).

Thus ensued the most epic Skype session ever attempted from Nigeria. Mom met Muka and Anisa, the girls who are enthralled with my long hair. She met David and Ibrahim, who stopped their wrestling match long enough to say hello. She met Mercy and Naomi, my two closest Nigerian friends. I wanted her to see me, to see us, as we move, as we talk, as we interact, as we are.

It goes deeper than that, of course. I want you all to see me as I am in Nigeria, as I live and breathe this culture, as I become someone I've always wanted to be. Not that Skype can communicate that, of course, but the pictures just will not do it justice. I know that.

On the ride home this afternoon, I saw the familiar sign for Coomy Automobiles. I don't know why but this name has always cracked me up. I think of cars in cocoons. Yeah, I know...weird. Anyways, I saw that sign and got a twinge of sadness.

You will never know what Coomy Automobiles looks like. You'll never see the luxury cars that Mercy and I promised to buy each other for our birthdays. You'll never know what that intersection sounds like or looks like at 3pm on a weekday (actually, I'll tell you: it's absolute CHAOS).

It's such a tiny minuscule part of this whole experience, but it's so sad to me that the people who matter most to me won't be able to share it with me.

Hopefully you can put up with me telling you stupid stories about places like Coomy Automobiles as I try to help you share in the greatest experience of my life. Yes, the greatest. It passed up Parent Trap a long time ago. :)

1 comment:

  1. I can't wait to hear all about it as we curl up on my couch and drink chai tea. :) I want to hear the funny little details like Coomy Automobiles reminding you of cocoons and planning lessons by the seat of your pants and which guys proposed to you. :) And can you tie a head scarf on me for real this time?? Maybe for missions day at my church this summer?? I am sorry for the sadness you're going through as you slowly say farewell for now to the country and people you've come to love so much. I'll do everything I can to help you with the transition, my dear sister! (Will it help to be able to get a kiss from your nephew in 6 weeks?) :)

    P.S. I renewed my zoo membership to include a free guest. So you can come with for free! :)

    P.P.S. Won't it be great in Heaven when you have one place to call Home, and you can actually be with most of those you love all at the same time?? I can't wait.

    Love you to pieces, and can't wait for your homecoming! xoxo

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