I find a great clarity in the English language used by Nigerians. I was reading the local paper at breakfast. It was the first time I have seen 'arrogate' used as a verb, ever. Wealthy people were 'arrogating' resources to themselves. The words are often longer, and sometimes misplaced, but there is a carefulness of expression.
In spoken words, too, there is the same care. Spoken sentences actually end; unlike in the UK, where we drift between endless chains of phrases, as though afraid of interruption.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
THE LONGEST BRIDGE
In Lagos, between 5.30 and 8.30 in the morning, everyone shifts from where home is to where work is. People drift out of their shacks, or their houses, onto the roadside. Many don't have cars, and wait for the innumerable yellow and white vans to stop and pick them up. The bridge between mainland and island goes on for miles. To the left, gorgeous shapes against the rising sun, elegant and curved fishing boats, most with only two men aboard, drift along the reed-strewn coast. To the right, countless shacks with corrugated roofs look damp and dishevelled after another deluge of rain last night.
This is the longest bridge in Africa. There are cars along its whole length. Horns honk all the time. Men on foot weave dangerously between the vehicles, hoping to sell a few biscuits, cigarettes, or packets of chewing gum. Men on motor bikes have either no helmet, or bizarre half-helmets that belong in a cartoon, or in a 20th century war. On the island, some cook beside the road; some carry baskets or boxes of goods on their heads; and everyone seems to be talking, laughing, arguing, shuffling for position, fighting for a part of something, where there is not so much to share around. It's a beautiful place, though. Everyone seems to have clear and healthy skin, not pasty and spotty, like the UK.
The journey takes hours. Just when you think the bridge is finishing, there is more. I am the only white person I see. I have an armoured car behind me, to protect me. I know it's necessary, but I feel overprotected, on display.
Sometime after 8.30, when my journey is done, everything will go quiet again, until the evening backflow chains its way home.
This is the longest bridge in Africa. There are cars along its whole length. Horns honk all the time. Men on foot weave dangerously between the vehicles, hoping to sell a few biscuits, cigarettes, or packets of chewing gum. Men on motor bikes have either no helmet, or bizarre half-helmets that belong in a cartoon, or in a 20th century war. On the island, some cook beside the road; some carry baskets or boxes of goods on their heads; and everyone seems to be talking, laughing, arguing, shuffling for position, fighting for a part of something, where there is not so much to share around. It's a beautiful place, though. Everyone seems to have clear and healthy skin, not pasty and spotty, like the UK.
The journey takes hours. Just when you think the bridge is finishing, there is more. I am the only white person I see. I have an armoured car behind me, to protect me. I know it's necessary, but I feel overprotected, on display.
Sometime after 8.30, when my journey is done, everything will go quiet again, until the evening backflow chains its way home.
TIME AND ATTENTION
"That went like no time," she said.
We had been in a long queue, and had started chatting. Now we were at the front, and the half-hour wait had only seemed like minutes.
The secret is to always be making things with the time you have. Make connections, make bread, make anything: just fill the time with engaging activity, and it will pass like magic.
We had been in a long queue, and had started chatting. Now we were at the front, and the half-hour wait had only seemed like minutes.
The secret is to always be making things with the time you have. Make connections, make bread, make anything: just fill the time with engaging activity, and it will pass like magic.
PSYCHOSIS
At a barbecue yesterday I bumped into a psychiatric nurse.
"Forgive me asking," I said, "but how would you define psychotic?"
"Losing touch with reality," she said. "Be careful," she added. "A guy from Oxford has been with us preparing his doctoral thesis, and he's started showing signs of psychosis himself."
She herself was researching the relevance of physical health in the early stages of mental illness. Keeping physically healthy is so important, but is often forgotten in the quest to offer drug treatments. I think she said that those taking antipsychotic treatments are particularly susceptible to heart problems.
It's a fine line, she said, between paranoia and psychosis. Perhaps just a matter of degree. And people get better, she said. Or start off fine, and then relapse into psychosis at times of stress. It's often pressure that does it. Things become too much, and the mind starts altering reality in a misguided attempt to cope.
She was very calm and factual about it all. As though she saw it every day, and it no longer surprised her. Compassionate, though. The easy, calm compassion you get from a good, experienced nurse. It's nice there are people like that. People for whom life is care and understanding, not profit and control.
"Forgive me asking," I said, "but how would you define psychotic?"
"Losing touch with reality," she said. "Be careful," she added. "A guy from Oxford has been with us preparing his doctoral thesis, and he's started showing signs of psychosis himself."
She herself was researching the relevance of physical health in the early stages of mental illness. Keeping physically healthy is so important, but is often forgotten in the quest to offer drug treatments. I think she said that those taking antipsychotic treatments are particularly susceptible to heart problems.
It's a fine line, she said, between paranoia and psychosis. Perhaps just a matter of degree. And people get better, she said. Or start off fine, and then relapse into psychosis at times of stress. It's often pressure that does it. Things become too much, and the mind starts altering reality in a misguided attempt to cope.
She was very calm and factual about it all. As though she saw it every day, and it no longer surprised her. Compassionate, though. The easy, calm compassion you get from a good, experienced nurse. It's nice there are people like that. People for whom life is care and understanding, not profit and control.
GRIEVING
I was chatting with a good friend recently about grieving. About how we think we're OK, but suddenly have days where we're overwhelmed with sadness, when all we want is for things to be like they used to be. And how we think we're getting stronger; but suddenly have a day when we feel like the weakest person in the world.
"When I broke up with my husband," she said, "the worst month wasn't immediately after the break-up, but almost a year later. I suddenly broke down and couldn't cope."
At such times we just need to go with the flow of emotions, and not try to rationalize. Later, with another caring friend, I just sat and let plain misery flood me. I didn't argue with the feeling, I just let it flow through me. I didn't try to cure anything. I just let it be. And she had the generosity not to try to solve anything, but just to let me grieve, like a child, without logic or plan or escape. Simple loss is a flow, where you become the shape of the sadness. And if you can absorb it, you can begin to heal.
"When I broke up with my husband," she said, "the worst month wasn't immediately after the break-up, but almost a year later. I suddenly broke down and couldn't cope."
At such times we just need to go with the flow of emotions, and not try to rationalize. Later, with another caring friend, I just sat and let plain misery flood me. I didn't argue with the feeling, I just let it flow through me. I didn't try to cure anything. I just let it be. And she had the generosity not to try to solve anything, but just to let me grieve, like a child, without logic or plan or escape. Simple loss is a flow, where you become the shape of the sadness. And if you can absorb it, you can begin to heal.
FLOODS
It's flood season in Lagos. 24 dead so far. A resident was telling me about it.
"It's the people near the canals who suffer,in the low-income areas. The water channels are not well-drained, so they just get carried away. The Governor is a good man, though. A lawyer, with a good understanding. Where are you staying?"
I told him.
"Aah! Upper class area. You will enjoy."
"I'll lower the tone," I said.
He laughed and shook my hand. He explained that I should be careful. In what way, I asked. "Watch your bags, keep them close. They know who lives there, and who is a tourist… the way you walk, the way you look, the way you move."
He taught me my first Nigerian word (although he warned me there were so many different dialects, all fairly unique. I don't know how it's spelled, but it sounds like "shallafione". It means hello. I like to learn a word or two. It's my way of getting a little immersed in a place. And a mark of respect for my delegates.
"It's the people near the canals who suffer,in the low-income areas. The water channels are not well-drained, so they just get carried away. The Governor is a good man, though. A lawyer, with a good understanding. Where are you staying?"
I told him.
"Aah! Upper class area. You will enjoy."
"I'll lower the tone," I said.
He laughed and shook my hand. He explained that I should be careful. In what way, I asked. "Watch your bags, keep them close. They know who lives there, and who is a tourist… the way you walk, the way you look, the way you move."
He taught me my first Nigerian word (although he warned me there were so many different dialects, all fairly unique. I don't know how it's spelled, but it sounds like "shallafione". It means hello. I like to learn a word or two. It's my way of getting a little immersed in a place. And a mark of respect for my delegates.
THE ILLUSTRATOR
At the airport, I bought a cappucino and looked for a space to sit. The café was full, but I used one side of a table already occupied.
"Where are you flying to?" said the girl opposite. We did the pleasantries, and it turned out she was a student illustrator, travelling to see her family in Bangkok.
"I do the old kind, arty and low-tec, like for album covers, things like that. I'm two years into my studies. When it gets to four years I move countries; I can't stay more than that. It's been like that all my life. I have never stayed anywhere." She was eating a huge burger. "I hate the plane food, so I stuff it all in first!"
She had the energy of youth; everything to her was quick and easy; life was full of drama but her brain was adjustable and she could cope, she would cope, she was flowing through life like water.
"Where are you flying to?" said the girl opposite. We did the pleasantries, and it turned out she was a student illustrator, travelling to see her family in Bangkok.
"I do the old kind, arty and low-tec, like for album covers, things like that. I'm two years into my studies. When it gets to four years I move countries; I can't stay more than that. It's been like that all my life. I have never stayed anywhere." She was eating a huge burger. "I hate the plane food, so I stuff it all in first!"
She had the energy of youth; everything to her was quick and easy; life was full of drama but her brain was adjustable and she could cope, she would cope, she was flowing through life like water.
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