30.12.19

The Carrot Guy

I intended to get back to writing regularly but I think this last semester was more taxing than I realized. Motivation and coherent thinking has been hard to come by. I am still highly ambivalent about Lagos, mostly because I have been caught up in a very small world. Maybe it's time for a return to the bullet list.

Things I want to write about but haven't yet the storytelling frame of mind:
  • The holiday season started off with a fantastical tale of this ballet party dress, which I found to be a bit expensive and not so well made. Mbalia's costume had a piece of trim from the neckline detaching before she'd even had it on. When I made a remark to the woman who was selling them, she looked at me in that rushed but serious way women get when they're dealing with a line of parents, on the day of the show, selling costumes in the foyer and things aren't going so well. "Yes, I am so sorry. You know why they are so expensive? We had to fly the woman in from China and she just got here Friday night and has been working like crazy to get all of the costumes done in time...." She lost me at "fly her in from China..." As if there weren't enough people here in the country to do a shoddy assembly job. Trevor Noah once again feeling my pain by reporting on Nigerians flying in pizza from Britain. Because it's all real. It's happening.  
The fancy light-up costume
                                       
                                                     It all started with the pizza....
  • 3D commercials in the stores- rounding a grocery aisle is likely to land you smack in the face of a real live commercial. Around the holiday season, there seem to be more of these product peddlers on hand. They sell everything from insecticide to wine. I think the ones I have run across most often are for powdered milk or chocolate spread. The most interesting one is the Laughing Cow, whom I might have written about previously. Like an animal version of Santa, he can be found in stores across Africa, wearing his red suit and making children laugh (or run screaming in terror.)
  • The mall or grocery store is the place to go for holidays. A walk around the mall or snapping photos in front of public Christmas displays is a popular way to pass the holiday. We spent some time doing this (by necessity rather than true desire) and decided to take advantage of the train running through mall. It's there all year round, along with the dressed up animals loitering in the hallways, waiting to snap photos with the kids and hand out publicity for children themed clothing shops and play centers.
The Palms Plaza Shopping Train
Mbalia was super excited
  • The carrot guy- there was a new vegetable guy at the small grocery store I like to go to (not in the mall.) He was so young with a beautiful smile and completely over willing to help. All I had to do was look in the direction of a vegetable and he was there with a plastic bag open and ready. He seemed to glide just above the floor, simply appearing next to me with bag in hand. I asked if I could put the onions and limes together- always searching for ways to avoid the plastic- and his smile got even bigger as he just shook his head. No, ma, you don't want to do that, he seemed to be saying. I couldn't be sure if he even heard me or understood. He was just apparently filled with the joy of the season. Overly nice people have a way of making me overly grateful and slightly uncomfortable so I mentally rearranged my normally high in veggies list. Just a few carrots. I picked up one or two limp orange stalks, shook my head and put them down again. In a flash, he was there, reading my mind. "Let me selection for you ma, so you can have the best." And he did. That young boy picked out all the best carrots from both bins. I felt like I was in a musical- that's how bright his smile was and how weird the whole transaction seemed. If someone broke out dancing and singing, I wouldn't have been any more surprised. As we made our way out of the vegetable section he pointed to the Nuli juice refrigerator. "All natural. Nuli is all natural juice." Like he knew me. I smiled and shook my head, although the Nuli juice boasted celery, cucumber, apple flavor or a watermelon, pineapple, honey combo. The carrot guy folded his hands and wished us a merry Christmas. I think it was the most sincere holiday wish I've ever received.  
  • Until we got to the frozen foods, which is near the stairs to go up to the second level. Where I've never been. But Mbalia needed a small screwdriver to change the batteries in a light up unicorn and I suspected if they had tools, they'd be upstairs. I asked one of the clerks if they sold screwdrivers and he shook his head no, but then asked what I needed it for. ? Luckily, Mbalia had brought her unicorn friend along and so I was able to show him. He dashed upstairs and retrieved his own screwdriver, making the battery exchange right there in the store. This whole scene naturally attracted two other employees, making jokes about our hero being a toy doctor. A-plus for SPAR's overly helpful, supremely friendly staff on hand, making every shopping trip a success. 
  • The light display put on by Zenith bank were truly spectacular. We snapped our own small picture from the keke. I'm not sure how they got a video that seems so devoid of people but the night we were out was filled with pedestrians, cars, motorcycles and lines of people hoping to get a ride on the magical sleigh.
Zenith Bank Display

The magical ride-on sleigh, viewed from the keke

  • Nabih's birthday came along just before the holidays and we took a trip to the Lekki Conservation center. We convinced each other that a walk across the canopy would be a good idea. Tours set out from the main center and we joined a group of about 25 other people. It seemed an odd way to walk through the swampy forest, but once we got to the canopy walk the group spread out. Only six people were allowed to walk across each section, with a maximum of 12 at each resting tower. It was quite an experience, with other group members really making a difference. Two women in front of us asked to keep the space, because the more people on the walk, the more it swayed and buoyed up and down. The three or four guys in front of them were especially exuberant. After the first two stretches, they were waiting with high fives and congratulations- and the ever present photo op. By the time we got to the end, we found ourselves walking off to a suddenly unusual quiet emptiness. Just us and the forest. After all that bonding with strangers, it was a little bit of a creepy ending. We walked cautiously back through the swamp, alternating between delight and suspicion at the monkeys crawling along the handrail- which signs cautioned against actually using or leaning against. 
View before we began. It's hard to look around
while walking. I kept my gaze firmly fixed
on Nabih's shirt. No time to enjoy the view.
Once you begin, you can't turn back.



The swaying, bouncing walkway 22.5meters high
Monkeys everywhere


The path ahead, mostly secure, beautiful green
Walkway in repair
Swampy view- no crocodiles in sight but
that doesn't mean they weren't there



8.12.19

Naira

The semester is over, marking my first year of PhD studies complete. These past 5 months were full of transition, illness, stress and catching up. I think there were a few sweet moments in there as well, but getting used to a new country is a job in itself, one I tend to underestimate even though I have been through it enough times to know better.

I cannot say Nigeria, or even Lagos, but I must insist on VI. Victoria Island is a microcosm of it's own. I have to keep remembering that. Because when I am just plain sick of the weirdness here, it's helpful to think it is probably not all of Nigeria. Just these little island bubbles.

On the island, there are fireworks every weekend. (Don't they know you can't have Christmas every day or it won't be special anymore?) Conversations everywhere seem to revolve around parties and events. One of the reasons I came to Nigeria was because of the reputation for intellectual discourse, and I am sure it is here- just not in these island bubbles. Or maybe everyone is adhering to work hard- play hard. Playing hard is expensive so the money must be coming from somewhere. Me? I am just hiding out in my flat, trying not spend too much. Just walking out the door seems to have a cost attached.

One of the hardest things to manage is the naira. Aside from the academic reputation, there is the other side. Business is a big thing, and for every legitimate affair, there is someone equally creative working for the powers of darkness. Nigeria does have a history of scams and con artists, which has led to some very complex rules around money.

1. The naira and the dollar are completely separate. I cannot speak expertly about the processes regulating change of naira to dollar but I know they exist. I was in the bank, withdrawing dollar (from my dollar account, which is very separate from my naira account) actually trying to send Western Union (coming up in rule number 2). Turns out you can only send naira by Western Union and so I was wondering out loud about how to get naira. The bank teller looks at me apologetically and says, "Maybe if you know someone....?" Meaning he, the banker, could not actually help me.  I needed to call my money changer. Because I actually have one of those now. Some people have accountants; I have a money changer.

I call and ask him to come and meet me. This time we meet inside the bank, which goes against everything I have experienced about money changers in other countries. Usually, "black market" money exchange is done on the street and at a lower rate than the bank. Here, the bank cannot actually perform this service for me. So Usmane comes into the bank and we work out an exchange. He doesn't really speak English and our exchanges are always a little confusing in terms of communication but I am getting better at understanding. He gives me a huge pile of naira and I go to the "large sums" deposit room to have my money counted, verified and deposited. I receive a small ticket to bring back to the teller to verify that my "large deposit" has been counted. Every time I need more naira, I have to go through this process. I wire my dollars to my naira account, call Usmane to change my dollars- sometimes he transfers directly to my account, sometimes I have large piles of naira to count. Usmane is friendly, always smiling- if we could communicate better I would ask how he got into this line of work. Where does he get all the money from? Who is actually funding his whole situation and where do my dollars go? But I am still slightly uncomfortable with the need to invite a third party into my banking transactions. Nairas spend like loose change here and sometimes it is embarrassing to have Usmane witnessing my 'wealth.'

2. There is no way to get money out of the country. Money transfer options like Western Union and Money Gram barely exist here. You can transfer within country, but sending out is a complicated affair. I managed to do it twice in emergency situations, but it takes at least an hour per transaction and there is a limit on the amount you can send per day. Coupled with the many personal questions required to be completed and I am once again feeling my privacy is being invaded. When it comes to money and Nigeria, there is no privacy.

3. There are limits on everything. ATMs do exist, and there are a few you could risk trying to use your international card at, but you are still limited to 20,000 naira per transaction (about $60.) It is extremely frustrating trying to keep cash on hand- which is actually something the government is discouraging.

4. Electronic transfers are all the rage. Some people even know their bank account numbers by heart. Most banks have mobile apps and from your app you can send money from your account to anyone else's account. It is the way to pay. Cashless. There is a small charge for this service but it's possible to pay for all kinds of services this way, person to person, person to business and you can even directly transfer naira for mobile phone credit. As long as the network is working. That small condition can lead to big problems. People have been super gracious so far, allowing that you pay for it later, when the network is up again. Meaning I have consumed services and then just been trusted to pay for them later. "Network" is a word commonly used to describe any kind of technical glitch. And people have adapted with patience. What else can you do,  really?

Network problems also affect Uber and Taxify, getting in the way of providing useful directions or calculating fares. I have been on some longer trips that miscalculated the fare or just shut down altogether. By this point, I generally have a good idea of what the fare should be and try to leave something of a generous tip, but it's not always a sure thing. I still feel bad about a trip I took in from the mainland and ended up shorting the driver 100N when I had hoped to leave him extra. I figure in the big circle of taxi fares and tips, it has to equal out somewhere along the way. It's all I can do.

5. Credit and debit cards are also a valid form of payment, but rely on the "network." It definitely has the possibility of feeling like a futuristic King novel, with evil something or other taking over and shutting it down. Or itself taking over and ruling as it wishes. I have gone grocery shopping, intending to pay with my US card only to have it rejected. In one case,  I then left the store to try the ATM, also down. I went back to the store, unpacked my groceries so I could reclaim my bags when the cashier tried again- and it went through. I had to repack my groceries. Paying and packing-unpacking-repacking took longer than the shopping itself.

Money and money exchange has become something that takes up precious mental energy space. It now involves planning ahead, calculating wire transfer time, money exchange time (Usmane is actually surprisingly super quick- arriving one time within minutes. If we could communicate, I would ask him where he is doing his business....certainly on the island somewhere.)

As I understand it, our salaries go through their own complicated process. My bank app shows two accounts which I can't actually access, but the money passes through there on it's way to my US account. First, the naira is deposited. There is something about bidding on US dollar exchange- my financial literacy is severely limited at this point- and then it gets converted to dollars, which go through that shadow account and are finally wired to my US account.

Something about all the rules, regulations and conditions works to make me feel everything about it is even shadier than if it just existed. I guess the Nigerians know best, how to combat the fraud and corruption. The whole thing gives me a headache.