Race

Partly cloudy, 92 degrees

Though it sometimes works against us, using what we like to call the white-girl (or oyibo) card, is typically advantageous.  While this ID is not something we  carry in our wallets, it is always with us and can get us the best seat in a crowded bus, to the front of a long line, and, as I recently found out, an invitation to run a professional mountain race as a mediocre, recreational runner.

I had planned to take the year off from racing.  I didn't want the pressure of training/competing and the time off would be good for me. That was the plan, at least, until I stumbled upon an opportunity I couldn't pass up.  The Obudu Mountain Race, an uphill running race held in the beautiful mountainous state of Cross River, about 8 hours southeast of Abuja, had my name written all over it.

When I first found the race's website, which, in true Nigerian fashion, contained much less information than I would have liked, registration was open to both recreational and professionals runners.  It was only after I had my heart set on running it, and had been training for 4 weeks, that they made the decision to make it open to only invited professionals because of a change in the course from 80% asphalt road to 80% trail.  At this point, I was committed to doing the race and I was in no way, shape, or form ready to take a pass.

When I emailed the Race Director, I didn't expect to receive a response.   Why would he waste time telling yet another non-professional runner the race was now invite only?  To my surprise, he responded, but with a heart-breaking "Thanks for your interest, but registration is closed." Though the response was disappointing, I had his attention.  In my desperate state, what else was I to do except try to convince this man I was professional (enough) to compete in his race?  In a carefully worded email, I explained I was qualified to race elite/professional triathlons (these are not the same categories, but I pretended they were) in my home country and was positive I could handle the course.

It was a couple days later that I received an email asking for my biodata (still not sure what this is?) and record of performance.  I crafted a race resume, including some of my better race results, my birth date, and most importantly, my hometown.  I would like to think he was impressed by my race record and, as a result, gave me the invite, but truth be told, I'm fairly certain it was the Evansville, Indiana, United States of America printed (in large font) across the top that convinced him to let me run. 

I received my invite only 24 hours before I was scheduled to leave for Lagos en route to Obudu.  At the time, I was also recovering from what we think was a case of schistosomiasis (don't look it up - it's gross) that I had picked up while staying in rural Nasarawa State the week before and the allergic reaction I subsequently had to the meds I took to get rid of it.  To say things did not look promising is an understatement.    

In a short and hectic 12 hour period, I pulled myself together, packed my bags, and jumped on the first flight to Lagos the next morning.  This was my first time flying domestically in Nigeria, and although security was a joke - not once was I asked to show an ID and I was allowed to take bottles of water and other liquids in my carry-on - I was pleasantly surprised to leave only 5 minutes behind the scheduled departure time and arrive a full 10 minutes ahead of schedule.  By my account, Nigeria has a better record than the US on domestic flights. 

Upon arrival to the private terminal, I met the other international athletes.  Oh, that's nice, I thought, the athlete's families have come with them.  The girls (or, as it turns out, women) I was looking at turned out to be the athletes themselves - not their daughters.   Since I'm sure most of you have seen professional Ethiopian, Kenyan, and Ugandan runners, I don't need to spend a lot of time describing them, but they are, in one word, tiny.  These were my competitors.  Though to call them my competitors would be demeaning.  I knew it wouldn't be a competition.  They were going to smoke me.  While I was merely hoping to finish the race, these ladies were running for their livelihoods - and a $50,000 cash prize. 

The fact that I was just there "for fun" and not looking to bring home any awards was bewildering.  Why would anyone want to run (especially up a mountain) for fun?  In each of my 5 interviews, I had to explain how running was simply a hobby and my only goal was to finish the race.  By the 3rd interview, I had learned to control the natural giggle that came in response to most of the questions I was asked, but when asked about my aspirations for the upcoming Olympics, I couldn't control myself.   Are you kidding? I asked.  Turns out they weren't.  They might have been, however, had they known before the race, where I would end up finishing.

Dead last.  Out of the 27 women that finished the race, I finished 27th.  If this was any other race, I would have been disappointed, but in this case, I was proud.  As one encouraging spectator told me, I won first for my country.  Though I cussed and questioned what I was thinking more than once, I was elated to simply be there. 

The 8 kilometer course was made up of 2 distinct sections.  The first 6k was straight up (Colorado Spring-ers, think The Incline - times 3 or 4) and physically impossible to run - even for my 95 pound professional friends, but once you reached the summit you were rewarded with a rolling track, cooler temperatures, many more cheerleaders, and a fabulous view.  Well worth it!

The race itself was grueling, but even more exhausting was the constant attention and special treatment.  The moment I stepped off the plane, it became clear that my main job (as the only white female) was to smile and look good in the hundreds of pictures that were to be taken, allowing the "international" race to show how truly international it was.  Though I joked I was charging a fee of 50 naira (equivalent to around $.33) per photo, I now regret not collecting on it.  I could have made a fortune. 

 

The entire weekend was awesome - awesomely exhausting, awesomely fun, and awesomely unique.  I made friends with world-renowned runners, stayed in one of the most beautiful regions in Nigeria, and ran up a mountain.   I really couldn't have asked for much more.  I am considering returning next year to do it again, as many inquired, and I might even "train properly" as some suggested, "and win."  Though I won't come close to medaling, I may do a little better with training the next go around.

I know I've not been great about blogging the last couple months, but I promise to make a conscious effort to do it more frequently after the holidays.  Before I get locked in to a new year's resolution, however, I'm headed out for a 3 week 'Tour de West Africa.'  Taking advantage of a long holiday break, I'm visiting our neighbors, spending 2 weeks in Cameroon with my one and only (my flat mate, McKinley - sorry to excite those who continue to enquire about my love life) and a week in Benin.  I'm very much looking forward to the trip, but with this being my first Christmas away from home, I'm sure I'll be thinking about family (and friends) constantly.

Catch you in 2013.  Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! 

Birthday Wish

Partly Cloudy, 90 degrees, 53% humidity

I'm sure on the top of your minds as the end of October nears is the fact that my birthday is quickly approaching.......it's top of mind for me, as well.  I understand ;)   Some of you have actually started asking me what I want so I thought I'd make it easy.  Nothing.  At least no purchased items.  While I  appreciate a nice care package, it is a lot of work and very costly - making it an inefficient use of money. 

This year, IF you'd like to do something for my birthday (and I'm not implying that all of you do), I am asking that you donate to one of the organizations I am working with/for.   There are two very credible organizations that could use your support much more than I personally could benefit from a present or package.  Below I've outlined each of the organizations - what they do, my connection, who should give to them, and how to give.

1.       Education as a Vaccine (EVA): www.evanigeria.org

·         What they do: EVA is a Nigerian non-profit founded with a mission to improve the quality of life for vulnerable children and young people.  With nearly one third of Nigeria’s total population of 160 million between the ages of 10 and 24, the country’s development is compromised by the sexual and reproductive health issues afflicting its youth. Lack of sexual health information and services make young people vulnerable to sexually transmitted infections (STIs), unintended pregnancy, unsafe abortion, and other reproductive health issues. The majority of EVA's work focuses on improving the sexual and reproductive health of these young people.  EVA has won numerous awards for their work and is recognized as the strongest youth-led organization in the country.  I can personally vouch for the amazing work they do and the impact they have on the disadvantaged Nigerian youth population with the relatively limited financial resources they have.  For more information on EVA, visit their website, provided above.

·         My connection: As my partner organization, this is the non-profit I'm working directly with - where I spend the majority of my time (and energy).  As the Fundraising Advisor, I am responsible for helping them reach their annual fundraising goal by implementing processes and tools to ultimately reach a larger base of individual and corporate donors.

·         Who should give: Those looking for a recurring, long(er)-term donation opportunity.  Although I am responsible for EVA's fundraising and would love for you to give to this worthy organization, I ask that you only give if you are willing to make a commitment to contributing regularly - once a year (for example) for at least the next few years.  The reason I ask this is because I don't want to raise money for EVA in my time here that they will likely not receive once I'm gone.  I would like what I do and provide to be sustainable well after I leave.

·         How to give: Submit tax-deductible donation online at: EVA PayPal

 

2.       Cuso International: www.cusointernational.org

·         What they do: Cuso is an international development organization that works through volunteers (like me!) to fight global poverty.  They recruit and support volunteers from North America in placements with non-profits in Africa, Asia, and Central/S. America. For more information on Cuso, visit their website, provided above.

·         My connection:  This is the organization Accenture partners with that has matched me with EVA, my partner organization. In addition to acting as the link between volunteers and partner organizations, Cuso also provides training and support to their volunteers while they are in placement.

·         Who should give: Those looking for a one-time donation opportunity

·         How to give: Submit tax-deductible donation on my fundraising page at: Cuso Fundraising Page (also linked in left sidebar)

If you have any questions or want additional information, feel free to email me. 

Babies

Partly cloudy, 84 degrees, 90% humidity

If there is one thing I truly enjoy about our office, it's the two babies that spend their days with us.  These cuties, 4 and 5 months old respectively, can almost always bring a smile to my face and make for an excellent excuse to take a break from work at least a couple times a day - typically once mid-morning and then again mid-afternoon.  Because one of the babies is the daughter of my boss, the Executive Director, I find it more acceptable than the "western" equivalent - smoke or coffee break - AND much better for you.  In addition to providing the mental break I've found I often need, they add a bit of physical activity to my largely sedentary work day and typically cause me to work up a sweat.  While it doesn't take much to cause me to sweat, throwing around babies, especially Darren, can be a workout!

Although both mothers bring their house girls to take care of the babies while they work, Darren and Ase (pronounced Ah-shay)  tend to get passed around amongst the EVA employees and volunteers throughout the day.  This is something I realized likely lead to me feeling constantly sick and/or worn down the first couple months.  Turns out, babies are germ havens and even though they are young and their immune systems are still developing, as Nigerian babies, their immune systems are stronger than mine.  Nothing a good hand-washing (or hand sanitizing, if there's no running water) can't fix though.

Sadly, in the last week both babies have started going to creche (day care) so I am desperately in need of a new distraction.  What am I supposed to do now when I need that mental break during the day?  Without coffee within any reasonable distance (or for any reasonable price) and with smoking not an option, I need to get creative. 

Standard view from my desk

Although I don't openly admit this in the office, she is my favorite!

She typically wiggles too much to stay on my lap, but sometimes I can get work done while holding her

 

 

My favorite Darren look - "what up?"

 

 

For the moms who think they need  an expensive baby carrier, try this cheap, yet effective Nigerian model - a few yards of material wrapped around you and your baby

 

Nigeria and Conflict

Scattered T-storms, 79 degrees, 95% humidity

Because my roommate, McKinley, has so eloquently written about one of the most controversial but central topics in which ALL international news stories and many news stories within the country revolve, I'm going to cheat on this week's post by directing you to her post about conflict and terrorism in Nigeria, found at the following link: Boko Who?

Please note this is by no means a complete and comprehensive account of the state of conflict in Nigeria, but aims to further explain the complicated situation in the country we currently call home.  Also note (mom and dad especially), that in the capital city of Abuja, I live in a safe environment and have yet to feel uncomfortable or worried about my security.

Things you don't normally talk about at work

Partly cloudy, 73 degrees, 100% humidity

Coming from a work environment most would classify as "Corporate America," I have a very different view on topics appropriate to discuss in the workplace than most, make that ALL, of my colleagues here in the wild, but wonderful, world of Nigerian NGOs.  While I haven't yet found any topics that are exclusively off limits, as it seems most information I would consider personal can (and has) been made public, there are a number of topics I would have steered clear of in any workplace conversation at home and some which I will continue to steer clear of no matter how directly I'm asked.  The big ones include:

Religion

As a culture largely defined by religion, most Nigerians fall in one of two distinct camps - Christian or Muslim.  For those who have done any research on Nigeria or heard news on the country, you're probably aware of the conflict surrounding these two groups, as it's what most media outlets tend to cover.  Religion is not only at the core of a number of conflicts within the country, it's a defining characteristic for most Nigerians.  "Are you a Christian?" is something regularly asked as a typical get-to-know-you question, similar to " Where are you from?" in a typical introductory conversation in the States.   Because of its significance, religion is openly discussed and even practiced in the office, with a Christian church service held, just like a weekly meeting, every Wednesday morning. 

 

Age, weight, and body shape

Because I'm still young enough (or at least like to think I'm young enough), being asked my age typically does not make me uncomfortable - at least if it's not being asked by a client looking to give me a hard time about my age, experience level, and the amount he/she is being charged for my consulting services.  For most Americans, however, age is a number not willingly provided, sometimes even amongst groups of friends.

A number I am NOT comfortable discussing with my colleagues, however, is my weight.  Because being thin is not necessarily seen as a good thing or associated with being beautiful, weight and body shape are openly discussed.  It's common to hear, as part of a greeting, "you've added weight," meaning (yes, you guessed it) you've gained weight!  While some female colleagues admit they don't necessarily like hearing this, they are not offended and typically respond with a reason - they've been tired (not exercising) lately or cooking/eating more, taking it MUCH better than I would, likely providing a response of "go climb a tree" (although likely not that nice or censored) a glaring look, and possibly even a slap across the face.

I've made it clear to my colleagues I will not provide my weight, even when other colleagues (females included) have willingly provided theirs.  I have also asked they do not tell me if they think I've "added weight" at any point during my placement.   This has to be the last thing I want to hear as I fight the constant battle to find and consume healthy food in this culture where sugar and/or oil is added to almost EVERYTHING. 

 

Sex

Let me preface this with a reminder that the non-profit organization I work for focuses on sexual and reproductive health issues and is unique in respects to the openness in which sex is discussed in the office, as this culturally taboo topic is not widely thought of as an acceptable discussion topic.  Nonetheless, sex - the act and everything associated with it, including protection, sexually transmitted diseases, pregnancy, abortion, common misperceptions/myths, and any/everything else - is commonly discussed at work.  In my book, it doesn't get much more personal than this.

MTN Biking

Scattered showers, 79 degrees, 95% humidity

This weekend I finally had the chance to get out of Abuja and see a bit of the natural wonders surrounding Maitama (our neighborhood) I've been tortured with looking at while not actually able to get to.  Lush, green hills surround Abuja and we are lucky to be able to see this scenery from our flat.  For me, however, it has been a tease, as more than looking at these green hills, I have wanted to be in them - riding, hiking, etc.   This weekend, my prayers were answered, or so I thought, by a couple willing expats who helped me get out on a mountain bike and up into the hills.

When I sent the plea out to the Abuja mountain biking yahoo group, I didn't anticipate many bites.  I was not only looking to borrow a bike, but also looking for someone to take me out and show me the trails.  I was pleasantly surprised by the quick turn-around.  This is when I should have realized it was too good to be true.  Not only did I have a bike to ride, but I also had a poor soul willing to sacrifice his Sunday ride to let the newbie trail behind.

The words I used to describe the ride to McKinley when I got home was "brutal" but "amazing!"  Being outside Abuja, cruising through small villages and shanty towns, on a mountain bike was one of the best experiences I've had since I've been here.  The complete exhaustion I felt at the end of the ride was also a welcome feeling I hadn't had in quite some time.  Yes, call me crazy, but I love the feeling of exhaustion brought on by a long/hard run, swim, and especially a bike ride.

This state of exhaustion would not have been possible, or maybe just nearly as severe, if it weren't for the lovely piece of equipment (notice, I've stopped calling it a bike) I rode - and sometimes pulled/pushed along side me.  The Ford (yeah, you thought they only made cars) was a real treat.  Weighing in at over 50 pounds, with a back brake that stuck and a front brake that didn't work, a rear shock that bottomed out every time I hit the tiniest bump, and flat pedals, the beast even boasted a disc wheel (you know, for aerodynamics) and a kick stand!  See picture below. 

Now, some of you may be thinking, what's wrong with that bike? I have one just like it in the garage, while others, who understand my love for cycling (and appreciation for quality-made bikes), are probably thinking  there's no way you would EVER get me on that thing.  The latter was my initial thought too.  Call me a snob, but I've never ridden a bike like it and was close to calling the poor soul that had signed up to ride with me the next day to tell him I wasn't going to be able to make it.  I told myself, however, "This is Nigeria and you are a volunteer.  You can't be picky," and decided that no matter how bad it looked (and felt), I was getting the chance to go out and explore.  THAT I couldn't pass up.

I don't think I can appropriately describe the brutality of the ride - climbing and then descending a total of 25 miles on pure steel with no shocks, faulty brakes, and flat pedals was draining and scary.  Not that the trails (or tracks) were technical, though in some areas completely impassable, but the combination of rutted out dirt tracks, slick rocky sections, and a decent down the road with okaddas, trucks, cars, gawkers, and walkers vying for the same limited road space, the trip ranks pretty far up there as one of the scariest mountain bike experiences of my life.  Also probably one of the dirtiest, though I can't say I was actually more covered in mud/grime than a typical ride, but that the mud and grime that I did have on me was a bit more disgusting. Though I'm sure not all of it was filled with poo, I know for a fact there was a good amount on the track as I, for the first time, was WA-WA'ed (a phrase I learned that day, meaning West Africa Wins Again) when poo from the trail was slung up on my hand by a passing okadda.  Thanks okadda driver!

While I can't say that I am ready to take the Ford out again, I really enjoyed the experience!  Riding through the green hills, the scenery would have been enough, but the people we saw were the best part!  In almost all of the villages or towns we passed, we were greeted by lots of waving, calling out of "oyibo," and even running alongside us.  Some of the kids that ran with us could even keep up!  Talk about a depressing moment - slugging my bike up the hill as an energetic little one runs beside me with his hand on my arm.  I think at one point he might have even been giving me a push. 

Needless to say, I am now on the hunt for a bike.  A decent bike is hard to come by so I'm hoping I can swindle an expat out of his/hers or find someone that's leaving and looking to sell.  Without a car, a bike would be my only means of getting out of the big city, and as many of you know, this is something I crave.  Now, if only I can find something a little nicer than the Ford.   

Church just off the track

Faux Pas

Partly cloudy, 73 degrees, 100% humidity (even though weather.com  says it's currently showering, I'm going with the observed weather report, which is much nicer)

While I've committed my fair share of social faux pas in the last month and a half that I've been here - everything from offending colleagues by turning down food to using silverware when fingers are the preferred utensils, the last couple weekends have helped me define a few good rules for social settings and events in Nigeria.

First: Don't show up on time to ANY event - not even a wedding.  Nigerians have a very different sense of time as compared to most North Americans.  To Nigerians "on time" is not arriving when the event is scheduled to start, but instead, anywhere from a half hour to an hour and a half (or more) late.

McKinley and I learned this the hard way last weekend when we arrived "late" (by our standards - 4 minutes) to a wedding of a colleague of ours.  Let me add another smaller faux pas that we committed, which was going to the wedding of someone who we didn't really know.  While the bride works for our organization, we can't tell you for certain that we had met her before the wedding.  We couldn't pass up the opportunity to go to our first Nigerian wedding though- call us wedding crashers, if you wish.

We hustled, thinking we were late, to the church down the street from our house, sacrificing our clean, not-sweaty appearance, which is hard to come by during this hot, sticky season.  We assumed we would be the last few people arriving and we could inconspicuously sneak in to the back of church and place ourselves behind rows of family and friends.  We knew we would stick out as probably the only white girls attending the wedding - not to mention the only ones that people didn't recognize (including the bride and groom) - and were pleased with the fact that we were going to be fashionably late - by our standards.  To our dismay, we were the 2nd and 3rd attendees to arrive - outside the choir and pastor, who were setting up and one other well-dressed woman in the pew, we were it.  So much for being inconspicuous.  We sat ourselves in the pew and waited for the ceremony to begin.  45 minutes later, with approximately 25 people in church, the 2 hour ceremony started.  Attendees continued to pour into the church throughout the service, with almost all pews being full by the time the whole thing was over.  Next time, we WILL be fashionably late.

Second: Expect planned events to have a program or agenda - from weddings to after-work social events.  Friday afternoon, we had a "Send Forth" (Going Away) Party for one of the EVA staff members that left the organization just before we started.  Instead of relaxing, chatting, and eating/drinking, there was a line-up of activities planned.  First, by request of the leaving staff member, everyone in attendance - minus McKinley and I (thank goodness) because we had not worked with her - had to write down at least 1 good thing and 1 bad thing about this colleague.  Think public performance review meets public personality review (not sure if the phrase personality review exists, because the act would be considered inappropriate in most instances, but it's the only phrase I can think to describe this).   I still haven't figured out why anyone would want this kind of feedback, as without a great deal of direction on what her colleagues were being asked to provide, most of the comments returned were not constructive or things that could be improved upon or changed - including feedback such as she's a hard worker, good wife material, and hot-tempered.  Not knowing what I was signing up for, I got to read all the comments out loud to the entire group - talk about working to keep a straight face.  After the public performance/personality review was complete, we went around the table and everyone said aloud goodbyes to IJ, the leaving staff member.  This ranged from everything from "I wish you weren't leaving" to 10 minute tear-filled speeches thanking God for bringing IJ the opportunity to work for EVA.  By far the most awkward social event I've ever attended.

Third: Don't assume alcohol will be a part of any celebration.  We've learned (rather quickly) that Nigerians are not big on drinking.  By "not big on drinking" I don't mean they simply shy away from the binge drinking that's typically associated with most American social events, but that many of them don't drink at all.  This is obviously a cultural thing - part of it is religious, the other part I'm still figuring out.  At many social events, we (the "westerners") are often the only ones drinking.  And we're not talking heavy drinking here - a beer or two at the most.   I know, we're crazy!

This is often not a problem and something that hadn't really impacted me until Friday at the "Send Forth" gathering.  I was ready for a drink and had been looking forward to it most of the day.  Who is not ready for a beer on Friday afternoon after being in a window-less, noisy, stuffy office all week?  At this after work event - what I was picturing to be something like a Happy Hour - only soda, water, and malt (a disgusting root-beer-like drink served in a can which looks disappointingly like a beer can) was served.  I had water.