I’ve been struggling with how to blog about this experience so far. It has been two weeks since I have been abroad. However, I do not have a lot of experiences, per say, to write about. I have some pretty pictures of Singapore, but nearly none from Africa. I made the vlog post from a few days ago to really just fill the gap and provide some sort of content for anyone curious about what I am doing in Africa.
First of all, you should know that this whole experience has a big yellow cloud over it so far. I got Yellow Fever a few weeks ago, before heading to Singapore. Ironically, I contracted it from the vaccine. Luckily, I avoided any liver damage or hemorrhaging, but I felt very sick and weak for two weeks. To this day, certain symptoms linger. I’m physically weak, get headaches, have a low appetite, and a very stiff neck. It was under those conditions that I boarded 20 hours of flights to reach Singapore from New York.
I left New York on a Friday night and reached Singapore Sunday morning. I was told Sunday would be for rest and jetlag recovery. When I got to the hotel my room was not ready, so I took a stroll to Gardens by the Bay with one of my new colleagues to pass the time. Gardens by the Bay is a famous park in Singapore that has large, picturesque, artificial trees.
When we got back to the hotel the rooms were ready, but only just in time for us to change and go to the office. Our boss had a day of team building planned for us. So much for rest and recovery!
The rest of the week proceeded similarly to Sunday. They were days filled with long sessions and me becoming progressively grumpier and grumpier. My body ached, I had splitting headaches in the afternoons, and I was devastatingly tired, yet our boss insisted on working until 7:00 and having us ask as many questions as possible. The first few days, as soon as the interminable sessions ended, I went directly back to the hotel and crawled right into bed. At mid-week our boss asked us what we did in the evenings. When we all admitted to her that we were lucky to even make it back to the hotel and not just fall asleep right there in the training room, it was like she was disappointed with us. She insisted that we enjoy the evenings, go out, find nice restaurants, and experience Singapore.
By the end of the week my condition did improve. On Wednesday evening I was able to have dinner with a friend and walk back to the hotel, seeing some sights along the way. On Thursday we just grabbed dinner at a nice night market, and on Friday the company had a happy hour for us that went pretty late. On Saturday I saw a friend I have not seen since college. Molly has lived and worked (quite happily) in Singapore for four years now. She took me to Arab Town and China Town. It was great to spend an afternoon with her and hear about her life and perspectives in Singapore.
Singapore is a very nice city. It is architecturally appealing, clean, and orderly. When some people at Olam asked me if I had been to Singapore before I would tell them that it was actually my first time in Asia (excluding the rather Mediterranean Israel and Lebanon). They would then respond by telling me that Singapore is “fake Asia.” I can see why. It seemed to lack the disorder and urban chaos that produces culture, arts, and unique urban feelings. I wish that Singapore had more of that, even at the expense of its orderliness and cleanliness.
After the seven days in Singapore it was time to head to Africa for six months. My personal itinerary would take me to Nigeria to learn about cocoa procurement, Tanzania to see Olam’s coffee growing operations, and Ghana to work with the cookies manufacturing team.
Our boss in Singapore seemed to think that we were all apprehensive about going to Africa. However, I do not think that was the case for many of us. I was certainly nervous about Nicaragua. When I had to go to my site for the first time they simply gave me the phone number of my host family. I had to call them in Spanish, figure out how to find the house, and then I went off to León on my own. I took the bus to León and then successfully took a taxi to my new home. I got settled in and decided I needed a fan, so I set out on foot and found a fan and bought it. Next was food. I found a grocery store and bought what I needed. And so on. We were very independent in Nicaragua. I also cleaned my room and bathroom and washed my clothes on a washboard.
Here in Africa, we were picked up at the airport by an Olam driver. We stay in hotels or guesthouses where our cooking, cleaning, and laundry is taken care of for us. Our drivers bring us everywhere. Of course I wasn’t nervous about coming here! All of my needs are taken care of. All I need to worry about is learning.
Lagos is what I expected it to be. Quite like Managua in fact, just much larger (I’m trying to resist comparing everything in Nigeria to Nicaragua – excuse my lapse here). The buildings are not very appealing, aesthetically. I saw some very large slums around the city. One of them appears to have a haze hanging over it in the evenings, and I fear that is the smoke from wood or charcoal burning stoves. All around Lagos there are people all over the place. They are on the sides of the roads, on the roads, and even walking on the highways.
Many Nigerian men wear what appears to be traditional dress. They are long shirts, sometimes down to their knees, with slender pants and sandals. The shirts can be long or short sleeve, and they are often brightly colored or patterned, and the pants match. I find them very appealing (some are certainly style rather than traditional pieces), and I assume cooler than what we would consider “normal” clothes. I’d say that at least 20% of the men I see are in the shirts or tunics and the pants, while another 20% are in just the shirts with jeans or other pants.
We wound up spending four nights in Lagos. And so began my immersion into Indian food. My company, being founded and still managed by Indians, prefers Indian dishes over African ones. The hotel we stayed at was Indian managed and offered a full Indian menu. Now, in Akure, where I will be for a month, our meals are prepared by the housekeeper in the home of our Indian manager and sent to the hotel for us. We eat exclusively vegetarian Indian meals. Few and far between have been my opportunities to eat African dishes.
We were told that the ride to Akure would be four hours. It wound up taking six and a half. The roads are atrocious. They make New York’s roads look good. The driver has to weave and swerve all across the road to avoid craterous pot holes, half of which we hit anyway. There are also numerous check points, all of which seemed to find an interest in our vehicle. One of the “task forces” that stopped us insisted that we were missing some cockamamie papers and that to continue we would have to pay N 16,000. That’s approximately $45. This initiated a 45-minute argument between our driver and the “task force” that ended with us having to drive to an ATM for the driver to withdraw N 7,000 to pay the task force so we could be on our way.
Akure is a small Nigerian city. About half a million people live here, which is enough to support a night club and “mall” with a supermarket and cinema. Unfortunately, Olam does not want us venturing anywhere on our own, so I spend nearly all day every day in my hotel room. The hotel leaves much to be desired, with exhibit one being the internet. Needless to say, I am quite bored. There is a stark contrast between the freedom of the Peace Corps and how Olam is treating us now. I understand their concern for our safety, but at some point I will begin to question the necessity of the precautions. My overwhelming desire today is to simply take a walk, but I can’t (also, it’s been periodically pouring rain all day). My Peace Corps experience is what made me comfortable to come here, but now it is what is making me the most restless being here.
Akure is in Ogun State, which is the largest cocoa producing state in Nigeria. It produces approximately 100,000 metric tons of cocoa beans a year. This coming week I hope to visit some of Olam’s cocoa warehouses and maybe some cocoa farms in Ogun, not just Olam’s office here and the interior of our hotel.