full day #1

ahh morning. so what the hell does it look like here? smart me, i left the curtains partly open so i wouldn't sleep too long. and by not sleeping too long i meant not past 0945. WOW! that's late! of course i'm horribly jet lagged but whatever. i need coffee. COFFEE! NOW!!! so i manage to get dressed and make it to the lobby where i'm greeted by a round, smiling face and a "can i help you ma'am?" hell yes, you can. where can a girl get some breakfast around this place? of course! the pastry shoppe around the corner. so i find my way there and pick up a yogurt, an apple and ask for a croissant and a coffe. "no coffee." huh? apparently there is no pot sitting on a burner behind the counter singeing all of the taste out of my java. there's just espresso or latte. ok. i can manage. oh, and do you take american dollars? no, of course not. in my sleep-deprived and decaffinated state i've forgotten to change some cash. boo. so i stagger out of the cafe like a lost neanderthal and ask whoever's listening "where can i change money?!?! i need coffee!!" easy enough, just back to the lobby. the sweet lady at the dsk has taken total pity on me and is trying to work quickly. then i realize i don't even know what the money here is called, much less a reasonable conversion rate. shit! what do i care? so what if i get a crappy rate, this is going to be the best damn latte i've ever had, right? so with cash (naira, actually) in my sweaty fist i make my way back to the pastry place for my goodies. "go have a seat, we'll bring it out." k. but all the tables wobble like a bitch. seriously, like setting my breakfast on a tilt-o-whirl. the white guy next to me informs me "all those by the window are unstable." yeah, kind of like me. where's my damn latte?! "you can join me, if you like." oh, yes please. older, white gentleman who doesn't have any funny accent or stare at me weird or call me ma'am. sweet. so i delve into my yogurt which all i can say, is weird. and chomp my apple in alternating bites with my rather tasty croissant (i've never really cared for the spun buttery, floury, crispy, golden, instant cellulite). but then the caffeine arrives. YES! sweet nectar of the gods! but i barely recognize it; what is the hot liquid in a tall clear glass, with cream on the bottom, foam on the top and no freakin handle?! whatever. tastes like cafeine so it's good enough for me! just kind of akward to drink because it's HOT! details. but after i drill this guy about nigeria and abuja for like 2 hours i decide to find out about internet. so he offers to walk me around a bit when he goes out for lunch later and i agree to meet him in the piano bar in an hour. now that might sound scary or weird but i have nothing to say other than i didn't get any bad gut feeling and this guy used to be a professor at a private college in south florida. and he's not in nearly as good of shape as me, so i'll be fine. but the strangest thing is he's been staying in abuja with his friends while he does some programming/it work for the government but he always comes to this shop in the morning because it's really the only place around for breakfast. how sad is that? anyway, i get my intenet hooked up (for a mere us$100/wk) and am thrilled that i now have a link back to my world. and then it's time to go for the walk.

it's hard to explain, in a way. there's walls and fences around everything. and no shops between any of the buildings. so this whole city has been built from nothing and is totally planned so nothing is going in that the governiment doesn't want. except, of course, the street hawkers, burned-up cars, bags of rotting trash and don't forget the chickens. yeah, lovely. but just outside the front gate of the hotel grounds (which are enourmous and beautifully lush) there's this huge fucking rock! i mean, it's a monster! a big ol' granite rock with a little grass and a few scrawny trees sprinkled about. it's so big it even has a name; aso rock. yup. big fuckin rock. actually the city is surrounded by rocks similar to this one but a little less impressive. it's actually truly beautiful here. very tropical; palm trees, parrots, gekos, banana trees. and of course humidity. but i love it. we chat on our really slow walk towards a food store where i can get some snacks later and kids keep coming up trying to sell us stuff like eggs, peanuts, apples, juice and whatnot. "never drink anything opened. or from the tap. ever." hmmm... "what about at the hotel?" no, apparently not even at the hotel. whoops. i've had at least 4L of tap water since making it in last night. the professor laughs and shakes his head. "you're going to be sick already and you just got here." yeah right, my GI tract has taken worse insults than untreated water. but i think from now on i'm boiling mine with my in-room electric kettle. the food store was fairly normal. except the produce section consisted of a cardboard box with some mini-potatoes, onions, limes, and terribly shabby tomatoes. o yeah, and cabbage. that's it. and yogurt that isn't refrigerated? hmmm... i may pass on that. but it happens to be the same brand that i ate while i stayed in frace, so at least i know it tastes good cold! but that's enough for me and we go around the corner for fried chicken and icecream. and there's a door man! it's like freakin Popeye's but there's a guy openening the door for every customer coming or going. i'm a little let down by having my first meal out in the city be fast food but apparently only well-off nigerians eat here. still, it's fried chicken, fast food style. i'm not impressed.

i'll tell you what is impressive though, the guy walking around the city with an old fashioned singer sewing machine on his shoulder. apparently he's a travelling tailor. and then there's the ladies selling peanuts from atop of their heads. very impressive. lots of people carrying lots of different things on their heads. a little more walking, a view of the park and national mosk and we're back. so i take leave of my professor-guide and make my way back to the room. i managed to catch the doc (darryll singer) on his cell and he says a car will pick me up at 9am tomorrow. right-o. where to? i haven't a clue. to do what? your guess is as good as mine. but whatever. 9am out front; i can do that!