Hi Blog Readers,
- Today is Thursday, and again I’m feeling pretty useless with myself. On top of that, it is cold, and I can’t think much.
- Yesterday I received a mail from a blog reader who said she’d been reading the blog for a while without leaving comments. Here’s what else she said: “You write beautifully I have to say…”. I’m assuming that she’s female because the first name sounded female. It’s a Nigerian name which is also sometimes given to males, but my instincts on this one is that she’s female though I could be wrong… But to the sender, I say a big thank you for being there.
It was World Aids Day on the 1st of December, which was memorable for me because it reminded me of the first time I had to take an HIV test. It was just a year ago, in Nigeria, while preparing for this travel experience. Somehow, even though it was not a mandatory test, I took it, and it resulted in this short story that I wrote for an upcoming anthology. Meanwhile, another blogger, Bumight, has made a post about her recent test experience. Find it here and, if you can, take the time to vote on her blog poll. Since that last time, I have not been tested again, not because of fear, but because of time. When next I find myself in the hospital, I will do it again, and let you know how it goes.
- Still talking about HIV/AIDs, I received a pack of… listen to it… extra large condoms in the university as part of the HIV/AIDS awareness campaign on campus. The real reason why this is memorable to me is that I had no idea that there were extra-large sizes here, even though I knew in my head that there definitely must be. There was a time in the history of this travelogue where I had wanted to blog about my amazement, and disappointment, at the smallness of American condoms, and what I think it could or could not mean. I’ve since found out that it could have had to do with a particular brand, and thankfully, Chris from my linguistics class found my narration of the discovery and experience very very funny. That time has passed, however and thankfully I didn’t have to blog about it, and offend anyone. So, the first question obviously had to be: why do we have “extra-large” condoms when rubber is already known to be elastic? I cannot answer it here without exceeding my PG-13 self-censoring limit ;). But YOU can! My reckoning is that it has something to do with grip. Apparently, as I now know, all condoms too are not created equal!
- I have two assignments to do before Monday comes. One is a term paper that I must submit before I travel to Washington DC to see my close pal Mr. Barack (stop the snickering). The second is a class assignment with the same deadline. I know why I have not been motivated enough to start them, so the problem is only half solved. Let’s see what I can do as soon as I am done with this post.
- Meanwhile, I have now pulled out one of the old jokes from my inbox. It’s a poem that is both funny and stimulating. You may have to read it out loud to get the total idea. It’s titled “Eye Halve a Spelling Chequer.” I hope you enjoy it.
Eye Halve a Spelling Chequer
Eye halve a spelling chequer
It came with my pea sea
It plainly marques four my revue
Miss steaks eye kin knot sea.
Eye strike a key and type a word
And weight four it two say
Weather eye am wrong oar write
It shows me strait a weigh.
As soon as a mist ache is maid
It nose bee fore two long
And eye can put the error rite
Its rarely ever wrong.
Eye have run this poem threw it
I am shore your pleased two no
Its letter perfect in it’s weigh
My chequer tolled me sew.
— Sauce unknown
Note:
I didn’t write the poem.
The game is on! The good thing is, I’m loving it. It started with 
On Monday, I received the first notification that I now have a strange Amigo Secreto following me, and strangely, I got the message through this blog. Ah-ha, someone must have told them that I have a blog, and he/she must now know a lot, or at least a little about me and what I like. In any case, I rushed to the department immediately after seeing the message left on 
But it was a pleasant surprise again today to discover just another gift – this time a photo frame that says “For your Memories of the US of A” and signed by “Secret Friend”. This time I’m really impressed because, once again, I wasn’t expecting anything. I had just finished putting up my own surprise plan into action for my unknowing subject, hoping that they‘ll soon discover a mysterious gift on their office table sometime soon, also signed by “A Secret Friend”, which is me. I can’t tell you the gift and clue that I left for my subject’s attention, again just in case they stumble on this blog entry. The surprise didn’t end there. It was checking into my office just before class this afternoon that sealed everything and sent me to surprise heaven. Right on my door was Shakespeare’s 
And it was dark, so I was able only to take these few snapshots of them as they floated down in white flakes from the sky.
Yesterday, I discovered the American gold coin called the dollar. No, not the paper dollar bill, but a coin. I’ve been here for over three months and can’t believe that I never encountered the dollar coin in all this while. It is fascinating, especially for someone like me who has liked to pride himself as a relentless numismatist – a collector of coins.
I remember the first coin that ever fascinated me. It was the old 25kobo coin of Nigeria’s late 80s. Along with other coin denominations of 10k, 5k and 50k, the 25k coin had a very interesting significance for me perhaps because of the engraved symbols on it that looked like blisters on a black man’s hand. The coin was brown, made from brass, I think, and different from all the other coins that were made of silver. On it was the embossed image of the Kano groundnut pyramids of the 60s as well as groundnut seeds. On the coins, the pyramids looked just like little cones, but in larger pictures, they showed a concrete symbol of industry and hardwork with strong men moving huge sack produces of their all-year round labour. And although the images never really inspired me to pursue agriculture, there was always something very moving about staring at the image of the mammoth structure built from stacked sacks of annually harvested groundnut (peanut) from the land awaiting exportation to the corners of the globe. Those were the times of our great prosperity, when Nigeria was totally self-sufficient, just before oil was discovered in large quantity and everyone went around to sitting on their asses in government offices, waiting for their piece of the “national cake”. I never did ask exactly how the groundnut pyramids were eventually transported, or how many sacks/bags of groundnut made a pyramid, but looking at more than scores of man-made mammoth mounds of harvested food sitting around the northern deserts stamped in my mind an image that has refused to shake for over twenty years. And the 25kobo coin has always remained my favourite of all the coins made in Nigeria. Of course, today at home, no one spends the coins anymore even though there has never been any official pronunciation declaring them no longer fit for transaction. My University in Ibadan has remained the only place in the country where taxi drivers (and them alone) still collect coins in exchange for services. The twenty-five kobo bronze coins have by now been relegated to the dustbins of our profligate history.
The dollar coin that I saw has the image of James Monroe, the 5th president, on one side, and the statue of Liberty on the other. A quick search through Google has now shown me that there actually have been several issues of the currency bearing several different president’s images. I don’t know why the coin is not is much circulation, but I know for a fact that, unlike in my wasteful country, this coin is actually a legal tender acceptable by everyone and at every vending machine. I know this because when Tola put it in the machine yesterday, it gave me my Mountain Dew and returned the right amount of change. So what exactly is wrong with Nigeria? I mean, besides profligacy!