There had been some major storms since our previous visit ... (Joey, this is the same place where we walked right to the water without any dropoff!)
Doing some final shopping -- dashing my favorite vendor, Matthiu. (If the money is given BEFORE the work, it's a bribe; if it's after the work/transaction is done, it's a dash!) When I first met Matthiu, his napkins that matched his table cloths were about 5 inches by 5 inches. For a 2 meter cloth he made 6 little napkins. For a 3 meter cloth he made 8 larger napkins. After much discussion, I realized that he didn't know why those crazy white people even wanted the things. So, I demonstrated their use ... finally he understood that it's for the lap and so if only two people are eating they need the same size napkins as the ones made for 8!!! It's taken at least another year to get the quality improved (like using matching color thread and keeping a straight line) but now I really think that Matthiu has the makings of a good business. Many of the vendors call me "Mommmy" and, as they tell others, I am their mother because I have taught them how to have success in their businesses. I'm gonna miss these guys!
Vendors, as they leave us to begin the long walk back along the beach. They hope that others will be at beach huts as they pass by ... Two different times we had friends with us at the hut who bought out the entire inventory of a basket vendor -- just imagine his burden-less walk back, carrying only the wads of bills in his pockets!
I thought I should, finally, include a shot of "the real beach!" Always, just beyond the screen ... often, hidden in the photo for the careful eye! ... is the rubbish. It's everywhere, coming in with every wave or dropped by someone as they walk along. Trash is a part of life here because no one seems to care about their contribution to the mess. When I give treats to the kids each time we visit, they are told (by Ola and Jide in the Yoruban language) that they cannot drop the wrappers or containers. I'm certain that as soon as I am out of site, it's all dropped!
The local kids with their handmade toys! Early recycling program, aye?
Wahab, proudly wearing "Master Jim's" hat! It's Wahab's now. He's studying law. Maybe it'll become the new courtroom headpiece. The lawyers, senators, etc. wear white wigs -- what a curious piece of collonialism to keep rather than keeping something that matters like good schools/transportation/electricity!!!
I love this about Nigerians -- the older children ALWAYS share anything they receive with the younger children. (We bring good water with us -- it's a rare treat!)
Jim with Ola, our hut caretaker (in white); Saed, one of the village boys who likes to help us; Jide, our driver -- proudly wearing the shirt we brought back from England, "his team" -- Chelsea, with the player name, Drogba, on the back!
And I never thought of this until just now -- of the whole crew that we bring to the beach (armed escorts, etc.) and those who help us at the beach -- they are all male. It took me two years to even think of this, probably because it is the Nigerian way. Women are trusted with having babies and cooking ... that's about it! (A topic of an entire blog, perhaps! When I first started my job, the men called me Sir because they'd never had a woman tell them how to do their work!!!)
Dare loves to get his picture taken. Today, he was really hamming it up!
Jim will miss Dare almost as much as Dare will miss "Master." (It's impossible to get a young child to agree to use a title such as Mister Jim rather than Master. To force him to make the change would cause great offense.)
