I leave the U.S. tomorrow, and this time I don't know when I'll be back. When I was a child, I always knew I'd be back in the States within four years. It was a given. This time... Who knows? It could be a year; it could be ten years. So far this doesn't seem to bother me. But there are things I'll miss, each of which can be "traded" for something Nigerian:
--Ice cream for Kunu (a ginger drink)
--Cheese for Groundnuts (peanuts)
--Chedder-wurst for Suya (spicy grilled kebabs)
--Burger King fries for Kosai (fried spicy bean cakes)
--Vanilla yogurt for Coke in a bottle
--Pears for Mangos
--Driving on the freeway for driving through an African rainstorm
--Wearing shorts & trousers for Wearing fancy Nigerian outfits
--Sunsets on the beach for Sunrises through the dust
--Post-It notes for Cellotape
--LOST for Real Football (you might call it "soccer")
--Traffic laws for Laughter over cows in the street
--Hot showers whenever I want them for Sumptuous bucket baths when the power's out
Hmm, I think I'll do just fine. :) And it all begins tomorrow when the plane leaves Los Angeles. (No liquids!) I should be excited. I should be sad. I should be going out of my mind with frenzied packing... Oh wait, I am going out of my mind! But tomorrow that part is over. Yes!! Tomorrow I'll be on my way to becoming an immigrant. (Never give up; never surrender your U.S. passport!)
Okay, my brain is fried, and I stopped making sense after I said I'd miss ice cream. I think that thought caused a nervous breakdown.
Next post from home...
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