Busyness as a Survival Skill and What it is We're Surviving

Crazy busy is the best description for how life has been of late. The benefit is that it helps us not notice how crazy life is in general around here! I recorded a figure skating competition a couple of weeks ago and have tried to watch it, oh, at least 5 times. It's only two hours and when you fast forward through the commercials that brings the total time down considerably. But ... alas ... I still haven't watched the last portion.

Jim had to leave early this a.m. for Port Harcourt so I'm staying awake and trying to get caught up on a few things! It's his first time back since we both had to leave very quickly in early June when our co-workers were kidnapped. He'll check on the progress of the banana tree that we planted last year!

Back to the topic of busyness --

Putting a westernized work ethic in the midst of a land of "go slows!" (the name for the traffic congestion) is a dangerous combination. It's because it makes it difficult for the ex pats to ever stop working. We are so determined to reach our goals, to make a difference, to accomplish something! But we lose time in traffic, we lose time because we're waiting on some local to do his job, we lose time because the job wasn't done properly, we lose time when we're waiting for a delivery or a food order or a meeting to begin or a driver to meet us or ... You get the picture. For the majority of Nigerians the response is "no wahala" -- "no problem!" For the majority of ex pats it just makes us work harder and smarter. But sometimes maybe smarter involves just giving in to the general "go slow" mentality! It's tempting to just sit back and say "whatevuh!"

Deadlines aren't really meant as a date the work should be completed. It's more or less a time to start shouting at someone to get started on the work. If it's before the deadline and they haven't even begun they always say "no problem, we're starting it tomorrow and we'll bring on a double crew to meet the deadline." Silly me ... sometimes I still believe the promises.

So today I'm meeting with a vendor who was supposed to deliver household items to 8 flats in August. And he's mad at us because we have the audacity to complain to him about his lack of service delivery when it's the end of November. He points out the items that he has delivered (which amounts to a little more than half of the list) and thinks we're unappreciative! And of the items he has delivered, we are expecting too much because we think the irons should heat evenly and the electrical kettles actually heat at all ... And, this vendor is one of the best! He is constantly putting down Nigerians because he's only half Nigerian. He laughs at the excuses other gives but he doesn't hear his own voice.

There are lessons to be learned here, as always. The education we are receiving is at least double the value of a university classroom, I'm sure.

One lesson is -- integrity does matter and we should still honor our promises and accept responsibility for our errors. Even when no one else does.

Another lesson is -- pray without ceasing! Praying about attitudes has to be as common as breathing. Attitudes can get corrupted so slowly by the corruption around us. It's subtle.

Which leads to another lesson -- racist statements and generalized statements about a pattern that is evident in a group of people are very similar. We constantly ask God to help us love each individual and not start to lump all faces into one group that we label as "them." I've had quite a bit of heated discussions with folks of late -- as I try to defend a Nigerian that I respect and as more and more seemingly racist comments are made. I typically say, "Would you agree that a racist is someone who makes a generalized statement about a group of people and then makes a statement about an individual based upon the fact the s/he is in the people group?" "Well, I suppose so," someone answers. "So, then, what you've just said is a racist comment." "No, it's not. I'm just stating a fact." And so the discussion goes on ...

Subtleties -- "Never trust a Nigerian." vs "Be cautious about trusting people."
"There's not a single Nigerian in this whole _________ ( insert: "country," "company," "world") that is honest." vs "He's a very honest Nigerian." (I hesitate to use the label Nigerian at all but I want to point out that this person is honest and is Nigerian -- together in one person.)

Anyway, you can see the struggle. And the busyness helps us to not over-analyze the whole thing!

I've learned a lot of other lessons lately. I only hope I'll have time to write about them soon.

Title, Honor, Shame, and how it all works

I met with a chief, yesterday, in his home. Now, the home was not what I expected -- picture clutter and then triple it! 50 framed pieces of "art," piles of stuff on every table and every chair, papers and glasses mixed together ... but amidst it all ... obvious signs of wealth. The 50+inch plasma TV and surround sound speakers, the gold plated Motorola mobile phone, the "keepsakes" from China, the portraits of each child graduating from a UK university. Wealth mixed with a lack of "class" ... a strange combination. Class without class, so to speak.

The reason three of us from the company met with him was that he totally and completely has failed as a landlord for a property we've been renting. But he didn't know that. One of his sons is in charge. And the son dares not tell his father anything negative. So, for almost one year the old man has been told that everything is fine when, in reality, our people who are tenants there have been suffering to the point of asking for early transfers out of country.

So, imagine this --- we needed armed escorts following our vehicle because I'm white and, therefore, I couldn't travel to the area on the mainland where the man lives.

We arrived, unannounced, because a source told us he was in country and available -- like so many successful Nigerians, he lives out of country more than in.

A man who appeared to be house staff met our car after we passed security at the gate to his villa. He was not staff; he was the chief, himself. The escort alarmed him so he decided not to send anyone else out to investigate, he sent himself.

We were warmly welcomed into his home. He served us lovely tea with honey in beautiful cups and saucers from China.

I opened with words of appreciation for the lovely first impression one receives when approaching the rental property followed by words regarding the potential the property has as a lovely landmark in the area, a place we would long appreciate leasing.

He was charmingly gracious and warm and courteous.

He was shocked (but didn't reveal it!) about our concerns and immediately jumped into action -- calling various staff and contractors on his gold plated flip phone. He was shamed by the failings of his people and, not admitting to the shame, went about immediately trying to impress us with his power to fix things. Indeed, he has the power. I was impressed.

Within a short time, every one of our major issues had been addressed and he'd made the appropriate calls to take care of the problem.

When referring to his photos of his children who each graduated from various UK universities, a co-worker asked him how many children he has. The chief smiled and calmly said, "Sir, I am a traditional chief. Do not ask me the number of my children. I cannot answer." To which I responded, "Chief, I believe you have answered." He laughed.

I received yet another education and a glimpse into the "class" society of Nigeria.