it's the last time

This is my last post from Nigeria. I have been so blessed this year and I am leaving with only good memories to carry me through.

Thank you for reading along with me on this adventure. Your feedback has been invaluable to me.

Blessings from here to wherever you are,
Maggie

can i just be done?

Fact for the day: Goodbyes are draining.

Today was the staff fun day at the school. I played soccer for the 2nd time in my life, anchored in tug-of-war, and emceed a singing and dancing competition. It was so fun to go out on a good note. Saying goodbye to everyone was not easy, though I had gotten the heavy-hitting ones over with yesterday.

This evening I was actually double-booked. First I had dinner with friends from church, the people with whom I watched Parent Trap last weekend. Their 8-year-old daughter wanted to learn the movie's secret handshake tonight, and I was happy to oblige. After that was a piggyback race all over the house, reading books, and animal charades. When bedtime came around, I learned that goodbyes aren't any easier on 8-year-olds. It was pretty tough to say goodbye to that fabulous family. After dinner, I buzzed over to Bible Study with more church friends and said more goodbyes.

Tomorrow morning I'm going to the airport early to say goodbye to my flatmate Jan who will be heading to UK for the summer. Then I'll be packing like mad.

In the afternoon I'm headed to a friend's house for some friend time and--hopefully--some pool time, too...even more goodbyes.

Which is not to say that I'm numbering my friends as goodbyes, but it's that nagging thought at the back of my head: You're my friend, I love you, our goodbye will be tough.

By the time I get home, I suspect it won't only be jet lag that makes me exhausted...these goodbyes are really doing a number on me, too.

i take it back

That last post I wrote? About trying to keep it together?
I take it back.

Not only have I NOT kept it together today, but I no longer
feel I NEED to.

A received an encouraging email which included the following:

"You can let yourself feel all those emotions and let them break you, knowing that they are so strong because you have been blessed so abundantly with TWO homes on this earth. You don't have to pick. You can belong to both if you want."

I have been blessed--incredibly--by this year in Africa. I got neck-deep in culture so quickly that this place does have a certain feeling of home to it. I will always feel like I belong here, even if I didn't spend years and years. I forget that God blessed me with a heart big enough to encompass two cultures, and forcing myself to pick one isn't fair to me or to God who made me this way!

So in the name of not keeping it together and not needing to, let me tell you about my un-kept-together evening.

Mrs. O hosted a lovely sendoff party for the 4 of us departing teachers. In ICS's 12 years, never have they sent forth so many teachers at once...not a lot of turnover here.

Every teacher from the whole school gathered for a small program (all events have programs here...complete with an emcee!), good food, gifts, goodbyes, songs, cake and ice cream, and pictures! I thought it would just be fun and laughter, and while we had that, it was also incredibly emotional. Everybody was crying!

I was put on a "hot seat" where people could say things about/to me and share stories, which was incredibly touching. One of the teachers, Mrs. A, described me as a strong, brave, and bold woman, and there was a hearty "mm-hmm" from the others - how affirming! Another teacher commented that I adjusted more in my several months than she did in several years. Still another said I have an important teacher quality - the ability to get down to my students' level and then to bring them up. A few of them remarked that they expected me to marry a Nigerian man (no surprise there!) since I have so embraced the Nigerian culture.

It was so rewarding to hear that my coworkers recognize the efforts I've made to adapt. As we say in Nigeria, "I tried-o," which means that I gave it my best and was met with some degree of success.

Later in the program, they asked the 4 of us to stand together and receive a prayer of blessing by Mr. O, who's on the school's advisory board. He began to pray this incredible faith-filled prayer, sending us forth, blessing us, and empowering us for what God has next. When he began to praise God for his mercy which has gotten us to where we are and will continue to guide us, I totally lost it.

God's undeserved love is really the core of my feelings about this year. It's only by God's grace that I stumbled upon the advertisement. Only by his mercy that I didn't totally suck as a teacher. Only by his mercy that I didn't fall sick with malaria or schistosomiasis or giardia or typhoid. Only by his grace that I fell in love with my students and they with me.

Right, so I'm bawling through the prayer. Not polite little tears rolling down cheeks, either. The really ugly crying with the splotchy swollen face and the snotty nose and mascara-y tears. U-g-l-y. It's been a long time since I've ugly-cried, because it's so unpleasant.

After the prayer came the hugs. I'm a really touchy-feely person, but somewhere in the last 6 months, I've started giving that up (NOT HEALTHY) because I didn't want to get too attached (AGAIN, NOT HEALTHY). Somewhere in The Five Love Languages, I'm sure Gary Chapman explains how detrimental it is for a physically affectionate person to deprive themselves of their primary love language. I refer you there.

So I received all these meaningful hugs tonight--not sideways, not A-frame, not 8-year-old neck-strangling hugs--but real, genuine, tender hugs from women who love me and have watched over me and taught me and guided me. It was more than I could take, honestly. I just cried and cried and cried. I would get it all cried out and and stop the gasping breathing long enough to thank these women for what they've done for me and for just being them, and then another woman who has played an important role in my last 10 months would come up and I would start all over again. Again, it's the ugly cry.

When put in perspective, though, it has to be an ugly cry. This is an ugly goodbye. It's not against my will...I mean, I did sign up for this when I didn't renew my contract...but it doesn't make it easy or cut-and-dried or even professional. My job this year has been incredibly relational and personal, so the goodbyes have to be, too. And considering that I may never see some of these women again, it has to be ugly, too.

Here's to the ugly cry, to the women who have helped make me who I am at this moment in time, and to the place I can finally admit feels like home.

just 3 days.

taking my mind off it*

* it = impending doom

This weekend has been SO MUCH FUN. It's been incredibly emotional, but for the sake of my sanity, allow me to table those emotions and focus on the excitement.

Saturday morning I loafed around the house, watching movies and packing half-heartedly. In the evening I got myself on over to M&M's house...they're Americans doing full-time ministry work here and their family also goes to Abuja Ark Church. We had pizza and watched Parent Trap together. It felt so normal to be with them and enjoy family time. I mean, I'm not trying to graft myself into theirs, but it reminded me of my own family's pizza & game nights.

I took a big leap out of my comfort zone and did the corporate prayers in Church this morning. Praying publicly is something in which I'm a bit...how shall we say?...out of practice. But I've had a lot of time to think about why corporate prayer is so important, and it comes down to this (and this I shared with the congregation): the Body of Christ is meant to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. We pray to a God who knows the words on our lips before they are even spoken, but public prayer allows us to stand together in our joys and trials. It allows the body of Christ to encourage the afflicted as they are patient in tribulation and also rejoice in hope with those who are triumphant (Romans 12:12).

After church, a whole gang of us went lunch at Silverbird, where I said more goodbyes and made more plans for further goodbyes. (Sensing a trend here?) Tonight, another group of us is going out for fish. Apparently, this is an essential part of Nigerian nightlife that I have yet to experience. Who knew?! So, I'm making up for lost time tonight and going out with friends.

Tomorrow and Tuesday are working days. I have plans with friends in the evenings--I'm even double-booked on Tuesday. Wednesday is sanity day. Thursday is freak out/get my crap together day. Thursday night I'm on a plane.

So much for tabling the emotions.


4 days 'til takeoff.

keeping it together...sort of

It's all over but the crying, folks.

8th and 12th Grade graduation was Thursday evening. I was on the committee to plan it (It seems we have committees for everything in Nigeria!) and emceed the event, too. We graduated our own Grade 12 for the first time in ICS history. In the past, it's been correspondence diplomas with University of Nebraska Lincoln.

According to the family-oriented priorities of the school, parents were involved in the diploma ceremony. Each family was called to the stage as their child accepted their diploma. When you only have 16 graduates, you can afford to take the time!

I was full of pride in these students, though part of me didn't feel I had the right. I've been with these kids for the past 10 months. Some of the teachers present had literally watched them grow up--one teacher said the 8th grade grads had been in her preschool class! I don't have that kind of history with these kids, but I'd like to think I've made a difference in some small way.

Following the ceremony, we took pictures and I started the goodbyes. I teach a pair of sisters, one in grades 6 & 8, and they left graduation to go to the airport on their way home for the summer. I said goodbye to the younger one, and she absolutely broke down. It was crushing, to be honest. There were several other goodbyes like that one.

(It occurs to me that I'm having trouble finding words to express these emotions associated with leaving and saying goodbye. I apologize for my imprecise attempts.)

Friday morning, we had an awards ceremony followed by class parties, and closed by 11am. The whole morning was an out-of-body experience. It felt like one of those suspenseful movies scenes where time is running out and you can't make it last long enough. Actually, that's what it literally was: not enough time. Never enough time.

I walked around to each of my classes and told them how much I loved being their teacher and how much I'll miss them. I hugged almost everyone except for a few shy ones and said goodbye. I did the same thing with my little ones in Grade 2. Anne wouldn't let go. She wouldn't let go, you guys. I died a little inside.

Lastly, I said goodbye to my own Grade 11, which was hardest. They are such amazing kids and they're going to be such amazing adults. Those 4 meant the difference between a terrific and miserable first few weeks of teaching. I will forever be grateful to them for making my job so easy. I pray (and pray and pray) that in one year, I'm able to come back for their own graduation. I can't wait to see where they go next in life--they'll probably change the world!

After all the goodbyes, I left with another teacher to spend the afternoon with some of the women from school. I started crying as we pulled away from the school, knowing it was the last time I would see it alive with students. Then I went to a henna party with the others. It was a busy afternoon and full of conversation and things to keep my mind off the sadness.

In hindsight, I didn't plan the afternoon well. I didn't anticipate my overemotional state. I should have planned to stay at the school as late as necessary, given myself time to cry it out, and then gone to hang out with my friends after collecting myself.

It's not like me to suppress emotions; for one thing, I'm bad at it, and for another, I don't think it's very healthy. I like to feel what I'm feeling - good, bad, or in between. So, I guess if I had to do it over again, I'd do it differently. The activity of the afternoon kept my mind off it, which was beneficial in its own way. Plus I've got some killer henna on my hands and feet...pictures soon.

I'm steeling myself for a total breakdown in the airport next week. I apologize in advance to the people who drop me off, the students on my flight (there will be a couple), and the unlucky passenger sitting next to me in 32 J.

final lessons

Back in October, when my students and I were still feeling each other out and testing the boundaries (okay...I guess they still do that!), I assigned my Grade 8 students to write themselves a letter. I told them about my positive experiences having done it at the beginning of high school and the beginning of college and how rewarding it was to reread how my brain worked with several years' perspective.

Today, our last class period of the year, I gave them back their letters. I realize that 8 months doesn't quite have the same effect as 4 years, but I won't be here next year.

They were amazed. They read quietly, quickly, completely captivated. They laughed in spite of themselves. We talked about how we can change so much in 8 months. Someone remarked that the people he disliked in his letter he gets along with now.

I encouraged them that if they had unfinished business with people, now was the time to fix it. I sat back, jaw agape, as they crossed popularity lines, clique lines, and gender lines to hug one another and sort out their differences. It was truly touching. My kids are amazing.

I reminded them that the next time I see them (speaking in faith here) they will be much much different than they are now, but I have so enjoyed seeing them mature this year and can't wait to see the people they grow up to be.

While I managed to make it through the day without crying, the girls did not. I doled out the hugs and they really did cry as they begged me not to go. It was tough stuff.

Moments like these make me want to throw my hands in the air and ask God "Why this? Why now?" I'm sure he's got this all under control, but sometimes I'd really like to be let in on the secret.

One week from right now, I'm going to be on a plane. holy crap.

on friendship

Jan and I were invited to a pool party/dinner party at our friend Bob's new flat. Also in attendance were 3 other female teachers from the American School and another young family from our church. Some were British, some Canadian, some a mixture thereof, some transplants from Zimbabwe to America, some Malaysian, and some good ol' Midwestern Americans. Some older, some younger, some married, some single, some divorced, some widowed. It was a beautiful mix of ages, nationalities, cultures, vocations, experiences, and vocabularies!

It looked a lot like the Body of Christ.

I have so come to love the people gathered together tonight. I love their warmth. I love their openness. I appreciate their humor. I respect their experience. I admire their willingness to invest despite the fact that most of us have spent lives in transient communities, always meeting new people and saying goodbye to others (and then there's me...about to experience it for the first time).

It was a great time to enjoy conversation, pizza, wine, and the 3 lovely children in our presence. We swam despite the threatening rain clouds and I had a blast playing around with the kids in the pool.

It felt a lot like goodbye, too.

In that bittersweet, let's-go-out-on-a-good-note-and-be-grateful-for-each-other kind of way. I think I've figured out (though it should have been obvious) that goodbyes are a time to edify, to encourage, to build up, to bless, and to send off in faith. Parents of college-bound children, take note. The international community has got it right. This is how we say goodbye. With love and laughter. With help and support. With a long list of contact numbers and friends all over the globe. With the promise of seeing one another again, even if it's not in this life.

I am at peace. Amen and amen.