linger

I am definitely back, in all senses of the word, but bits of Nigeria still linger with me.

My body is fighting me to stay on Africa time. No, for real. This morning I was up at 4:30am and awake for the day.

I catch myself saying "sorry," "ah-ah," and "well done" to people who don't understand the depth of meaning in those sentiments.

I spend too much time finding YouTube videos of people speaking pidgin, just so I can hear it again.

The phrases "Well in Nigeria, I..." or "When I was in Nigeria..." have already been worn out on friends & family.

I'm introduced to new people as the girl who just returned from Africa and I'm okay with that identity. I find myself desperate to let people know that I belong in two places in this world, and that is a huge part of who I am now.

God knew that the "homesickness" was creeping in, and yesterday at church, I spotted a woman wearing a traditional gown. My stomach clenched; I just knew she was Nigerian. Even though batik cloth is not limited to Nigeria and even though sometimes I fake myself out with Ghanaian styles, I knew. I think what I actually said aloud was, "Ah-ah. That's Nigerian cloth." My mom, ever the encourager, told me to go talk to her. And I did.

Turns out, she's from Delta State and has been living here for 10 years. When I told her I'd just returned, she replied with the greeting, "Oh, you're welcome" and it sounded like "Ah, ya well-comb." It was music to my ears! My Nigerian accent came out in force and it felt so fulfilling to say "well done" to this woman and mean it in the most African way possible.

I'm very clearly not in Nigeria, and yet her customs, her traditions, they linger with me. It's a comfort - like having a friend nearby if ever I need her.

I guess this is welcome home.