It says something about how much Nigeria has come up in the world that we were more worried about going to Beruit than we ever have been about coming here to Nigeria.

I was hoping for the extra days in Amsterdam, but Darrell argued our way onto another KLM flight to Amsterdam, which deposited us 25 minutes before our Kano flight.

We arrived in Kano near sunset, flying low towards the airport. The rainy season has made everything green. I could see out my window the copper-colored mud huts and walls snaking through the new green scrub, grasses, and trees.

The Dutch steward warned us to expect a rough landing, "The runway in Kano is in such a condition that is not the usual." I have become used to this euphemistic way of speaking.

Many officials from the university turned out to greet us "you are welcome" and expedite the customs process, which was relatively easy. Only two hours and most of that was collecting the boxes of computers and books John and Marty brought. 13 Gateway "moo" boxes survived, but their personal luggage decided to stay in Amsterdam. Darrell and I patted ourselves again for getting everything into our carry-on's.

I spent the time observing. Not many women covering their hair. The children seemed to innately know that Darrell's pockets were full of candy. Matthew's son James is fond of Starbursts.

As we piled into Matthew's white Mercedes, the full moon rose large, dusty, and orange. By its light and the headlights of other cars only we drove through old Kano.

With additional light from roadside fires, the dance of orange light and deep shadow, tall figures in long robes moving through the dance, strains of Arabic music, battered Vespas dragonflying through the traffic, a bazaar, a war zone.

Saturday July 7, 2001

As I type, John, Matthew, Darrell, the housekeeper, a local locksmith, and several neighborhood boys are trying to free Marty from her room. The lock jammed, the hinges are on the inside, and the bars over all her windows are embedded in concrete.

She is in no real danger, though it's hard not to think of the story John told yesterday about a family burning alive because they could not get out of their own household security.

The magic of the locksmith and gaggle of boys is: banging on the door with many small hammers.

Somehow it worked. Marty is free. She's been locked in there since 9 last night. None of us heard her yelling this morning over the din of our air conditioners. Yes, we have a/c but no running water. We are staying in the Guest House on the campus of Bayero University. It is ... rustic ... accomodating. Euphemisms again. I joked that I would spend my entire 2-day layover in Amsterdam in the bath. It is true.

We have a housekeeper, a very short man, someone who may have had to beg on the streets under other circumstances. He cooks our meals (rice, potatoes, chicken) from stock he keeps locked up outside in a rabbit hutch. He brings us hot water in pails to bathe with.

The house is built like a compound, stucco over cinder blocks, decorated only by the dozens of rainbow lizards skittering everywhere. I'm fond of the large blue and yellow ones.

We've driven past a herd of white cattle several times. I haven't yet gotten a photo of that, though I know it will be an image that stays with me, like the moonfire drive through Kano on our first night.

Yesterday we went to the university to be officially welcomed by the faculty and administration, and to tour the facilities. Everyone is very friendly, very welcoming. They were so beaming and proud to show us the freshly painted offices and training room we will use.

I am terrible with names, even names I am culturally used to. I must make a point to write their names down. Many were surprised to learn that 'Brandon' is a female. I thought in a place with names like Amadu, Yusif, Malafishu, I would not encounter Western name-gender stereotypes.

We seem to be spending the day here at the house; we missed the planned lecture this morning when trying to free Marty. John and Marty are now planning their lectures, Darrell is doing crossword puzzles, and I am writing, remembering what it is like to journal. It's more humid and cloudy today, I think it will rain soon. I will go for a walk once I finish this....

....It was a slow day, time to think and plan. The humidity increased throughout the day, teasing a storm now at 10pm, but still no rain.

We walked all the way to the main campus road so I could photograph the signs. Many of the professors whom we met yesterday drove by and stopped to talk; we felt like minor celebrities. They were returning from the lecture we missed and wanted to know where we were, so the story of Marty's adventure has spread. :)

Matthew picked us up on our return walk and we stopped at his home to talk with his son John about computers, about "everything". His eagerness to learn is [cliche alert] like a hunger. We are going to try to send him some things, books and cd's, when we return to the US.

After dinner Shehu Bello stopped by to visit and discuss his research: providing library services for nomadic Fulani. Matthew and his son John appeared with malt soft drinks and bowls of fruit.

My sleep schedule is still quite askew--taking naps and drinking pots of tea like a Brit isn't helping. I'm reading Tarka the Otter for fun, thinking of my own little otters at home.

Sunday July 8, 2001

Today is my mother's birthday.

I stayed awake til 3am last night. Turned the a/c off to listen to the rain, which was unfortunately as brief as my sleep.

I have resolved No Naps Today! It is another particularly humid afternoon that will hopefully break into rain later. I have just done some laundry, privately amused and fascinated at how quickly and cleverly we adapt and develop strategies for dealing with such things as no running water and the like.

I am writing as Actun (the housekeeper) (on the right) makes me some tea. No naps, no naps.

We spent lunch at a reception for the professor who gave the lecture yesterday, a duty and a celebration of his promotion to the full faculty level.

We sampled many, many dishes of Nigerian foods, but mostly sat quietly. I watched as James and his little friend finally noticed and gawked at Darrell's multiple piercings. When James is shy, which is often, he hides his face in both his hands, spreading them as wide as possible. They look like two dark frogs.

I need to take some more notes to prepare for a lecture I am to deliver Friday on the use of technology in libraries.

Tuesday July 10, 2001

I didn't write yesterday, too busy. We had our first full working day, trying to get the computers up and running, dealing with the usual snafus and brilliant work-arounds.

The first "teaching" session was difficult because we could only talk and people really wanted to do. But the computers are in no shape to be worked on, and the power comes and goes.

I always feel a bit defeated after a class, and especially this one, but I have to remind myself that many people learned many things and many people were pleased and excited. I have a hard time letting go of the few you must lose because you can't reach everybody. But maybe that expectation is too low.

We're in the lab again now, waiting for a delivery of RAM and wrangling with OS issues. Matthew's son John is here to help Darrell.

I'm not feeling much like writing now. Remember: the storm Sunday night, the three-quarter moon burnt and low-rising last night.

Wednesday July 11, 2001

The days are busy and full now that we are working on the lab and teaching and then preparing for the next day. Much must be done at the last minute since we don't know ahead of time the variables. Will the internet access be up? Will the power be on? Who will show up for the class? I came into this prepared to teach web design. But when 9 out of 12 people said they had never ever used a computer before.... welp, I changed my plans.

Haven't had the time or inspiration to write at night. My mother hasn't responded to any of my emails which worries me. I'll write again tomorrow.

The afternoon class yesterday--computer basics--went very well. :) Everyone was enthusiastic about practicing their new skills. At the end Mallam Shehu Bello cheered "I feel I know everything about computers now!"

Friday July 13, 2001

Wednesday's (July 11) afternoon class did not get very far into word processing before the power went out and stayed out. So we talked about some word procesing concepts, skipped email entirely, and went into Darrell's discussion of networking.

It was valuable, but disappointing not to be able to do the hands-on. I wonder how they will ever be able to make real use of this lab with the power going out every hour it seems like.

The water was also off and stayed off until this morning. No laundry, no bathing.

Darrell and I walked around the "neighborhood" after dinner, as has become our habit. One young man, Victor, came out to introduce himself. Everybody here is so friendly and happy to meet us. Victor asked if he could call on us, but I think we've missed him since then.

Thursday (July 12) was full of official visits and lots of driving around. It was the hottest day yet and I really felt it, sweat poured off me all day.

We did not see the Emir because he had had some kind of unspecified accident and needed to rest for the day. Just as well I suppose. Whenever I mentioned to people we were going to see the Emir, they would giggle and exchange glances. ???

We visted the Public Library, in its current dark and small location. We walked next door to the British Council Library, the most luxurious building we've been in so far, lovely mosaics and gardens. A very, very tall man, a walking tree. In general people are about my height (5 1/2 feet-ish). A female library student asked me to photograph her and then email her the photo.

Next we drove to the new public library building, just completed. Our driver asked me to photo him and his friends and send along copies later. He teased me throughout the day, trying to teach me some Hausa.

The new building is amazing, especially compared to the old and in the context of what seems possible here. Five floors, windowed walls, their own power generator, a large outdoor patio on the top floor. It's going to be wonderful when the books are there and the people coming and going. That's something I'd like to come back to see!

After a late lunch and a brief rest, Matthew and his wife Grace took us to the market near the Catholic Cathedral (Our Lady Fatima). It was more of a household shopping kind of market, not what we were looking for. As Darrell said, "I can buy plastic crap imported from China anywhere."

The women of the hair salon stall tried to get me to come have my hair braided, calling "Sister, sister, your hair, your hair!" I will remember that, and trying to cross the busy street to get into the market, the stalls of raw meat and swarms of flies, the medicine man with his megaphone and Avon-pink medicine bucket.

Saturday July 14, 2001

I've been here a week and a half now, which has felt more like 3 times that. I don't miss home yet; I even dread going back.... But I do miss the mild Portland weather and a real shower/bath.

I finished Tarka the Otter on the third or fourth day we were here and started in on the first book of The Lord of the Rings. Darrell was correct that I should have brought more reading material. He brought 6 books--and forgot shampoo and soap.

I suppose Tolkien will always be wrapped up in memories of Africa for me. I keep thinking of Actun as Sam. Yesterday he showed us the baby goats that were born the day before. Two puppy-size brown&white baby goats. I held them both, one cried loudly, the other snuggled in close.

Yesterday (Friday, July 13) went well. My lecture in the morning and the afternoon teaching session (web searching) were both a success. It was fun to see everyone discovering the web, trying serious things first, and then searching for more fun topics--sports heros like the Williams sisters, Nigerian soccer team info, even Monica Lewinsky. Mallam Auyo, who is the head of the department of library science, brought in a paper copy of the Emporia Gazette's story about Matthew's visit to the Kansas university. Everyone waved him away: "We already saw it on the web".

The lab was supposed to close at 5 but everyone was glued to the computers. We only began to close up around 6 when the internet connection dropped. But then it was picture time. Everyone taking photos and having their photo taken. It was the first hint of the goodbye's to come, and it made me feel a little sad.

The evening was full of visitors coming to the guest house. John Agada's family came. Victor came. An American sociology professor and his Nigerian colleague Zongo came, suggested we visit the Kano Club and avoid the Zoo.

We feel like such celebrities. Everyone is so genuinely excited and happy to meet us. Victor asked us to come over to his home, which we did for about a half hour. He wants to take us out, cook us a Nigerian dinner, show us the sights, everything!

Monday July 16, 2001

Two very full days--Saturday and Sunday--have passed with no time to write. I'm sitting at a very very green desk in a very very green room in the Nicon Hilton in Abuja. At $180/night, the most expensive shower I've ever had, and worth every cent.

Today is the second day I've experienced some tummy upset. Everyone else on our team had a day or so of it in the beginning, which was probably just adjustment. For me to be sick now makes me think I probably ate something that was bad in some way. If I'm still sick tomorrow I'll start the anti-biotics.

Saturday was another particularly hot and tiring day, and full of activity. A small group of Bayero folks and our team piled into a van and headed off to Tiga Lake. It was a lovely drive. The terrain changed and became more hilly. Once we turned off the main road, we passed several traditional villages made of the red clay soil, with thatched roofs. The flat land is punctuated with the old, worn mounds of long-ago volcanoes that rise suddenly and sharply.

Too bad the driver could not be convinced to stop for photos. :(

Tiga Lake, a large body of beautiful pale blue-green-opal water, was created artificially by the building of Tiga Dam. The lake is overlooked by a large rock outcropping, Castle Rock, on top of which is the Castle Rock Hotel. Nigerian's version of a luxury resort was built especially for Queen Elizabeth's visit some years ago.

Mallam Auyo proudly lead us on a tour of the facilities, or rather, prodded the attractive hostess to lead us around. Which caused many jokes about second wives and "research". We also took turns taking photos on the bed where the Queen slept. Marty's attempt to use the Queen's loo was thwarted by lack of water.

After the tour we walked down to the shore of the lake. Matthew and Diso ("the unionist") went for a brief boat ride. Too much bouncing around for Diso. Agada told me that most Nigerians cannot swim. We stayed by the shore for a while, more talking and laughing. The "Gama.com" joke begun by Auyo and spread by Mike took deep hold amoung the group, much to Gama's dismay.

Back to the van, passed a picnic with other Bayero faculty. There were very brief "Hello How Are You You Are Welcome"'s while I stared at the carnage on the BBQ. I think it was a goat, though the splayed rib cage looked too human and unnerved me.

Our next stop was to be another artificial lake, to which we had to pass through the law school's campus. We were stopped at the front gate by the usual big man in a little uniform (sometimes as literally as figuratively). Auyo and the guard talked for several minutes, then Auyo turned back to our group with his usual beaming countenance: "The lake is gone. The lawyers have taken it over." Once we stopped laughing, he rephrased and we learned that the lake was in fact still there, we just weren't allowed on campus without the appropriate permission.

After the long drive back, we skipped the planned visit to the Kano Museum and instead went to the Zoo. Grimace. Darrell and I grumbled a bit, being hot and tired and much preferring to go to the crafts market instead.

After a quick tour, Mike declared, "All the animals are goats!" True, like the rest of Kano there were a multitude of goats rummaging around the Zoo. The fenced area marked "Giant Tortoise" held a giant hog instead. Most of the other areas were empty, drainage ditches were bridged by rotten planks of wood. What few animals we did see look profoundly miserable. :(

The group bid us farewell and "safe journey" until we return to Kano.

After a brief rest in the even briefer a/c (the power went out again), Gama took Darrell and I to the crafts market. This required a drive through the oldest and poorest area of the city. I had been thinking of what I had thus far experienced in Kano as "Third World" until I saw this area of town. Fourth World? Trash everywhere, open sewage ditches, and too too many people crammed into too too little space. Because the sun was setting and I only had 100iso film and because I couldn't bring myself to use a flash, I took no photos. One zoo was enough and I've been feeling too much like a predator as it is.

Kurmi Market is mandated by law, or so we're told, to sell traditional Nigerian arts&crafts. It was near closing when we arrived, most of the stalls were closed, though some lingering sellers quickly re-opened at our appearance. Gama was a fierce but respectful haggler, quite handy for Darrell's shopping spree. I bought just a few tiny things and must make time to go back for gifts and more things for myself. I don't know that I will ever again have a chance to return to Nigeria and I don't want to regret not getting something such as a hand-woven Fulani blanket.

The market stalls were very close, narrow passageways, with tin roofs over-hanging the alleys. It felt like a medieval labyrinth, red clay instead of cobble-stones.

Though some people stared, most took no notice of us, except the merchants. When Darrell muttered quietly to me he might like to get a hat, within moments we had three men showing us piles of hats and offering a small mirror to see.

We left with the sun, and after another tiny rest, found ourselves being driven to the Kano Club. The American sociologist had strongly recommended we go there. I think I was expecting a Studio 51, but instead found a country club type place. Veddy British. If they ever film a James Bond movie in Nigeria, they'll have to do a scene at the Kano Club.

The grounds, relatively well-maintained but with the requisite peeling paint and crumbling bits of sidewalk, included outdoor seating on patios, a restuarant, a BBQ area for suya (kebobs), a games room, a smaller (more exclusive) club room called The Senate, and a swimming pool.

You must be a member, or in our case a special guest of a member, to come into the club. We have learned that Matthew has an extensive network of friends and family that help him access resources, whether that's jumping ahead of the queue at a gas station or getting into the Kano Club with 12 hours notice.

We ate dinner first and I encountered the first food I chose to abandon courtesy and refuse: oxtail soup. Sliced oxtail, hide and all, floating in a very oily, very spicey soup. Moo. I could almost see it swishing in the bowl.

Next we moved behind a hedge that surrounds the pool--and blocks the view from the front of the club. Here people drink beer. Since the institution of sharia--Islamic law--drinking alcohol in public has become a touchy issue, and the Kano Club has been raided by Islamic gangs breaking beer barrells twice before.

However, our quasi-illicit beer drinking was uneventful save for the army of cats roaming the grounds and our introduction to a regional bank manager. The cats were very skittish but adorable and numerous, especially noticeable because up until then I had not seen any stray cats or dogs really, just goats everywhere.

The bank manager upon hearing this was our first trip to Africa loudly joked that he was going to put us in a pot and cook us. He encouraged us to shake off our handlers and see the "real" Nigeria. Have we not been?

Our beer was accompanied by suya--a kind of beef kebob dusted with ground "groundnuts" or peanuts. As often as goats, we see small children balancing platters of small tin cans full of groundnuts for sale on their heads. Actually we see nearly everyone, children and adults alike, though mostly females, balancing their goods on their heads. Darrell has commented that the young girls seem so poised. You'd have to be to carry your weight on your head--and even run as I've seen some children do.

Sunday (July 15 ), arrangements had been made to borrow a Landrover from the science department, along with their driver, for our transport to Abuja. I find myself casting black actors in the roles of people here. Morgan Freeman is Agada, Samuel Jackson as Sani, and now Cuba Gooding Jr. as our driver Awalu Shehu.

Awalu could drive, as if he were one with the car. His movements were seamless whether it was his frequent use of the horn or passing off the toll money and taking the reciept with the same hand. On the dashboard in front of him, he kept a supply of pink kola nuts, the Nigerian equivalent of espresso.

Luckily for us he was a talented mechanic as well since the car had some problems on the drive down.

As we drove south, the terrain and weather changed. The flat land became hilly, with more trees and other plants, while the weather became cooler with a little more rain than we had seen, though still nothing like what I would call a 'rainy season'. July is supposed to be the peak of the rainy season in northen Nigeria.

We made a brief stop in the city of Zaria, dropping off a computer for the school we will return to after Maiduguri. Zaria sits on a flat plain, overlooked in the distance by what I called Broken Mountain. It looks as if a large mountain shattered into large, jagged pieces, which fell in on itself, without much erosion since then, like a pile of broken pottery. Later I learned its real name: Kufena Mountain.

I slept in the car until near Abuja, waking in time to see another great mound: Zuma Rock. The land around Abuja is very green, with black rock mounds escaping from the greenery every so often. When the soil was exposed, it was a deep rich tomato red. Zuma Rock is an enormous black mound, with a natural formation on one side that looks like a face.

Abuja was built from scratch about 20 years ago, an attempt at Nigerian unity by moving the federal capitol to a spot that was devoid of tribal claims. Everything is new and washed clean by the frequent rains. Maybe it was the influence of the Hilton, but the whole place felt artificial, like some kind of Disneyland replica of a modern city. But we had hot water and power all the time. And rain, soothing rain.

We only had Sunday night and the next day in Abuja before our flight to Maiduguri. But the day (Monday July 16) was full of appointments and no chance for email as I had hoped.

Visited: the US embassy, office of the president of NLA (Nigerian Library Association), director of the Macarthur Foundation in Nigeria.

Lunch had an interesting twist. Conversation halted when we realized the TV was showing--live--the hearings concerning abuses during the military regime. It appeared to be a kind of speak-out, and as I understand it the hearing committee has no authority to prosecute alleged offenders. Probably the only time a full restuarant has been silent, as everyone watched the tv, though there was giggling at the elderly army officer who performed acrobatic semantic games to avoid admitting guilt.

Awalu took us to the airport after our hurried meeting with Kole Shettima, the Macarthur director. And off to Maiduguri we flew on Albarka Air. Not even close to being as bad as my one Soviet-era Aerflot experience. It was a nice flight, flying low we could see the terrain and villages beneath us. Maiduguri is a small city in the furtherest Northeast corner of the country, near the border with Chad.

Matthew had been unable to contact anyone at Maiduguri, so we joked that once we arrived we would find the campus a ghost town, or at the least no one would be at the airport to meet us. We got hassled a little once we arrived, having to "register". Matthew handled it, I only peeked a little (wanting to stay out of the way) but saw no "dash" (bribe).

Remember:

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Tuesday July 17, 2001

Maiduguri: Like Kano, less people, more trees. :)

As I write at this moment I'm sitting in a classroom for Maiduguri's library school. We only have the one day here so we're listening as the faculty describe their areas of interest.

We began the day by meeting the Vice-Chancellor. Then Darrell and I met with the MIS director to talk about their technology plans. Peter Ogedebe. He has a good grasp of planning the network, and for its growth and use.

I mentioned that there were more trees here, but many more flowers too. Fuschia, reds, purple, yellows, whites, even some pale pinks and lavenders. A person interested in macro photography would be delighted with the tiny flowers, bugs, and lizards everywhere.

Wednesday July 18, 2001

Now I'm writing from a very very blue desk in a very very blue room in the Nicon Hilton, Wednesday afternoon back in Abuja. We have this time to ourselves with no appointments, but not much to do here in Abuja either. It's more a corporate park than a city. I unsuccessfully tried to talk Darrell into walking to the mosque with me; it's the one picturesque spot in town. Perhaps after his nap. Napping in the green room he looked as if he had been eaten by astro-turf; now he looks like he's being eaten by the blueberry girl from Willy Wonka. I wonder what colors the other floors are.

So I'll write, go back and fill in the considerable gaps in my notes/journal.

Yesterday (Tuesday July 17), in Maiduguri, after lunch we returned to the classroom to continue the conversations. Marty asked me to talk about the weekend intensive format Emporia uses, as well as some other student issues. Towards the end one fellow, I think they called him Apollo oddly enough, asked to hear from Darrell about technical issues.

I was pleased that Sauli Adams, who had been especially friendly to me during the tours, jumped in to say that I could speak about those things also, "She is a computer expert too!". Ahem....anyway.

After the session, Emmanuel, the acting head of the department, drove us around the sights of Maiduguri. When I say drive I should point out that as per usual there was an official driver, an apparent hold-over of British colonial days this necessity of being served by others??

Maiduguri sight-seeing was full of the same images I have become used to from the drives around Kano, the press of cars and people, boys selling everything, roadside gas kiosk-carts, and make-shift markets everywhere. The soil is not the red clay of Kano (even redder in Abuja) but more of a yellowy white, but it glows rose in the sunset light.

During the drive, we crossed a river-bed a few times, barely a trickle despite the heavy rains here, adobe houses crowding down the banks. A large sign at a house near the bridge read "Circumcise Your Child Here".

I liked driving in the heavy rain, though the unviersity station wagon was leaking fumes of some kind into the back seat. We drove by the new central mosque being built, now only a skeleton of grey concrete blocks, menacing and gaping in the grey storm.

After dinner, Emmanuel walked Darrell, Matthew, and myself to the club on university grounds. Agada was visiting with cousins; Marty was resting having hurt her foot on a bathroom slip.

The club was a low-tech version of the Kano Club. We sat outside on the patio, such a beautiful night by then. Cold and damp and breezy, plenty of stars peeking out above the many trees, the smell of rain.

We had suya (and kidneys, bleh!) and Gulde beer. Adams met us there after the first round. We watched CNN and then local Nigerian news. Talked very little, but laughed together when Dubya said "Poverty is ancient", and sighed together over the news in the Middle East, or would that be 'the olds'?

I saw my dog, the dog I think I will always want now, a noble golden hound hovering around hoping for food. But he was very skittish of people and I couldn't get him to come near.

Didn't sleep well, more bad dreams, and knowing I had to be up by 4:30am kept me up. Our early rise was followed by a mad, truly dangerous rush to the airport since the car was late.

The roads swarmed with stooping women in blood-colored robes, swatting at the dusty roadside with hand brooms. A cleaning crew of some sort. The effort seemed futile to me, they might as well try to sweep up the Sahara, but it is true that Maiduguri overall is cleaner than Kano.

Flight back to Abuja, and lunch again at the same place as Monday. The hearings are still going on live. Today Wole Soyinka (a Nobel winner) was testifying about his involvement with college fraternities. We came in late, but I got the impression he was somehow being blamed for the binge-drinking antics of Nigerian fratboys. Corrupting the youth and all that. Hemlock anyone?

Monday July 23, 2001

Several days have gone by now without writing. In Zaria we kept very busy, but also had little power, so I never really was able to write, even when I wanted to. We joked, but it's mostly true, that the power in Zaria was out more than it was on.

As I am writing now, I am sitting in the computer lab back in Kano, or "home" as we found ourselves calling it. Darrell and I thought we might be useful in the lab while Agada and Marty attend some meetings for next year's phase of the project. But, the power and the telephone line are both out. I haven't checked my email in 2 weeks now. Hope everything is okay...

Let me think back to Thursday (July 19) morning, leaving Abuja, driving to Zaria. We were already tired, no time off really as yet and the whole of the Zaria program to begin as soon as we arrived.

I should mention that the students have not yet returned since the strike ended so the universities have been very quiet and sleepy. The university in Zaria is ABU, by far the prettiest campus with noticeable attention paid to gardening and landscaping. I saw roses and thought of home. It also rained most of the time we were there, great pouring storms in the afternoon and during the early morning hours. Ah... but finally the mosquitoes we had yet to see came out in full force here. I have welts everywhere and praying the Larium does its job. I only want to take memories away from this trip.

The university put us up at the Kongo Conference Hotel, a 70's-style ranch hotel. The bed was so hard I fully expected to pull back the sheets and find those cement blocks from which everything is built.

Here we said good-bye to the driver Awalu since he needed to get back to the science department and ABU had promised transport back to Kano for us. After a brief rest and lunch we were driven back to campus for our afternoon session. The vehicle was a tan Peugot 504--the station wagon of choice for those who operate bush taxis. Passages from Riding the Demon came back to me.

Those first sessions are always hard, groping through to determine what people want to know and what they already know, while grappling with the initial frustration of their expectation of being able to jump right into it. Less talk, more action. You understand the vitalness (is that a word?) of the talk in hindsight, but it's still hard to deal with initially.

The drive from the hotel to the ABU campus took about 20 minutes, winding through the narrow streets of town and the various markets, official and makeshift.

Friday (July 20) morning mass confusion greeted us at ABU at our appointed time of 9:00am. Classrooms were locked and very few people around. By 9:30am Matthew was shouting "When we say nine, we mean nine sharp!" and the acting head of dept Zakari countering that we should have come to his office first.

Either way we were whisked off to meet the Vice-Chancellor, climbing eight flights of stairs for the honor of doing so. These meetings seemed designed to impress the big men with the money so they will support further endeavors by the library school. I think I forgot to mention that the Bayero VC gave us presents--clocks with the name of the university. This VC gave us bundles wrapped in flowered mylar, which I tore into once we left the office and began to climb more stairs to the roof.

The gift turned out to be a "poof", a round leather pillowcase. Once stuffed with a firm pillow you can use it as a sitting cushion or a footstool. These had the name of the university and something that looks like an Arabic design which is the university emblem sewn into them.

Our trip to the roof was worth the extra stairs (probably the other eight flights as well). We could see all around the campus and out into the city. From that height everything that is beautiful becomes more so and everything that is ugly is hidden. We could see the Broken Mountain on the horizon, looking a bit green that day.

Before our morning session we had a tiny, wonderful surprise that bloomed into what I am sure will be one of my favorite memories from this trip....

When John Agada was a professor at ABU, he shared an office with another John: John Otim from Uganda. They were 'the two Johns'.

John Otim is man of letters, literature, and all things fine, splendid, and wonderful in this world and the unseen one. If I had eyes that could see, I am sure he walks with a coterie of songbirds, butterflies, and fairy otherworldly companions dancing around him.

Before our morning session began, John Otim delivered an invitation to tea at his home, written in poem form. Whatever else happened, I knew it would be a good day.

Their computer lab was in a very small, stuffy room, barely able to accomodate the two computers and about six students. This, along with the the power problems and ISP troubles, made it difficult to do much hands-on training, but we managed to muddle through two sessions on Friday and another two on Saturday that were productive enough.

The recently chosen university librarian, a long-time library studies professor at ABU, Doris Bozimo lead us on a walking tour of the campus after lunch. In addition to the working internet cafe, I was particularly struck by the sculpture garden, a small park where arts students' final projects are displayed. There were many stunning, moving pieces that I made a point to go back and photograph later.

The day ended as dark, heavy clouds gathered. We arrived at John Otim's home, set in large lovely yard and with a spacious front porch, just as the rain began. And as it poured, a deluge of water, we were in magic place, hidden away under a protecting waterfall. The lights were out so we took tea by candlelight, in the home of a poet. He served the tea--"the drink of scholars" he declared--with honey and freshly grilled plantains.

Much later that night, I laid on the cement bed, and in the midnight darkness played shadow puppets with my flashlight .

Remember:

Saturday (July 21) was a long day. We were all so tired, no time off. We tried to cancel the afternoon session, but Zakari insisted that people would feel cheated, so we opted for a brief 45 minute session instead.

Towards the end of the morning session when Darrell began to work with the two advanced students trying to fix a hardware problem, I snuck away to photo the sculpture garden. That was really the only time so far that I've done anything totally by myself. Two different people stopped to ask if I was okay, a far cry from the western portrayal of Nigeria as a place where I would have been mugged and raped inside of 5 minutes.

As I walked back to the department, the two John's drove by in Otim's "summer car", a white jeep, and stopped for a photo. He keeps it parked under an overhang of the theater building because it leaks in the rain.

After the last session, Zakari called everyone together to say good-bye to "our august visitors in July". We split into two cars, Marty, Darrell, and I piled into Umar's maroon Nissan for a sight-seeing tour of Zaria. Umar was an excellent guide, both in his knowledge and enthusiasm, and in his understanding of stopping for photos. :)

We stopped at the Emir's Palace briefly, seeing the place where they hold the horse charges. Horsemanship is very important there and we saw almost as any people on horseback as on Vespas.

Umar also took us to the market to see the pressers, men who pound fabric to press it, the book stalls, and the indigo dye pits.

Darrell and I felt like the pied pipers of Zaria, we must have had 30 children following us at one point. Remembering my bad experience with the gypsy children in France I was a bit worried at first, but these children were very well behaved. Fascinated, the looks of wonder, they seemed to particularly want their photos taken. I so wished then that I had followed my original plan to bring some polaroid i-zones.

This wonder and fascination we saw with children and adults too was unique to Zaria. Nowhere else have people gawked at us as they did in Zaria, as if they had never seen white people before. I remember the young women by the road, with platters of corn on their heads, all gaping into our car at once, gasping together, "White!"

After our drive, we said good-bye to Umar and the others who came along. The power was out of course. Marty, Darrell, and I drank beer--the Guinness was as good as in Ireland--in the outside bar by lantern light and listened to the rain pour down, telling family stories and talking about the journals we were keeping. I knew from the beginning I would put mine on the web, so there are perhaps some edited comments...

Remember:

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Tuesday July 24, 2001

The days are speeding up, I'm restless to start the journey home, come what may.

Sunday (July 22), we piled into the Peugot and held our breath until we arrived "home". Poor Darrell sat in the very back the whole way, though our luggage blocked some of the fumes.

That evening at Matthew's home, we were treated to pounded yam and melon soup, made from scratch by Grace and her female cousins. Darrell and little James watched "The Simpsons" on tv until the power went out. My trusty flashlight paled next to the day-glo Jesus crucifix.

Monday (July 23), we returned to the Bayero campus, bubbling with the students back after the strike ended. What a difference! What a din! The vaulting archways echoed their talk.

The power was out so Darrell and I just sat in the lab, reading, writing, chatting with folks as need be. A few students poked their heads in to say "you are welcome" or "it is beautiful!" in reference to the lab.

Over lunch we joked about the hectic schedule Auyo had planned for Wednesday. Marty suggested delivering a lecture on the way to the airport Thursday via one of those mega-phoned cars we see, with the students following behind on a herd of Vespas and motorcycles.

Gama.com (it's a permanent nickname) was kind enough to take us to the Kurmi market again, and once again bargained fiercely for us. I'm happy with the items I bought, especially the leather picture frame and the moslem prayer beads and the Fulani blanket. Shopping! Damn, I am such a girl sometimes.

Gama used a lovely phrase to describe the black market: such activities are "in the midnight".

Apparently we brought the power problems and storms back with us from Zaria. Monday's supper was a candlelight dinner to the music of rain. Darrell ran cackling into our common room, calling me to get my camera--he found a bat in the bathroom! But we scared it off and instead tried to take photos of the lightening.

Wednesday July 25, 2001

It will be August soon, then the fall, then cold winter solstice, another year racing by.

Yesterday, Tuesday (July 24), we went to campus again in the morning. No internet connection--email will have to wait until Amsterdam--because the phone line was cut during weekend repair work. Power came and went, so I managed to teach Matthew's son John basic HTML before lunch.

Later in the afternoon, back at the guest house, there was a little knock on the room door. I was surprised to find little James behind it. He wanted to come see us. He is so adorable, I will miss his sweetness. I gave him a big hug and asked him to come visit us in Portland. He nodded.

Once the power had gone out again, Darrell and I went for a walk in the dark to look at the stars and the little sliver of a moon rising in the west. It was full the night we arrived. Clouds rolled in quickly, so we came home just ahead of the rain.

I'm writing now around 10am Wednesday morning, and it is still raining. The area in front of the guest house has turned into a small lake. But even the constant rain hasn't deterred that infernal rooster who crows all day. We're hoping he'll be our farewell supper.

-Auyo introducing Sani to the students as their village "computer witch"
-Libraries being quiet places, this issue came up frequently
-men having their nails done like a shoeshine service

...Later in the afternoon: We spent the morning and mid-day in a question and answer session with a room full of approximately 200 library students, though students from other departments also came.

I spoke first which sent the audience into fits of giggles. ?? Agada said it was because they weren't used to my accent, and by that he meant the American accent rather than the Southern, which rarely comes out anymore, even in this heat and humidity.

The session lasted for about 2 hours. Afterwards, outside, we were mobbed like rock stars. :) I've never passed out so many business cards while simultaneously juggling answering so many questions. One fellow wanted me to explain how to make websites right then. Another made me promise not to forget him, grabbing me by the shoulders and saying "Remember me!" We took some pictures, and then were plucked from the melee by Gama.com and spirited away in the department car.

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