Dear Jenny - August 30, 1991

August 30, 1991 

Dear Jenny, 

Sorry, I meant to write earlier, but I just forgot. It's Friday, and I've been in Nigeria a whole week now! We're not in our new house yet, but it still feels like home here. Right now we're staying for a few weeks in an apartment-kind-of-place that's at the end of a low row of houses. It even has a back door, which is really cool. Shelley calls it "Auntie Lenora's house" because another lady missionary named Lenora used to live here. Shelley said that one day a man came in the back door and stole Auntie Lenora's hot iron. She said Auntie Lenora ran after the guy but couldn't catch him, that he jumped over the wall. But the next day someone came in to the hospital with a burn on his hand from an iron!  

We had chapel at school today. Chapel is when all the kids in the elementary school go to the auditorium—which is shaped like a church, and they call it the chapel—for a Bible lesson. There's a man who's kind of like the pastor except they call him the chaplain. His name is Chaplain Smart (seriously), and his son Jeffrey is in the other 4th grade class. Anyway, we sang some songs, and Chaplain Smart gave a little Bible lesson. The singing was fun, but the lesson was kind of boring. I guess we do it every Friday, but Shelley says sometimes they do something different, like a skit, so it's not always boring. 

Oh, and we also have Bible class at school. Isn't that weird? We have to memorize Bible verses and have to know all the books of the Bible in the right order and everything. It's like Sunday school except during the week, and you get graded on the work! Mom says it's because it's a Christian school. She says we have to actually pay to go to school, not like in California. She says only the rich Nigerians can send their kids to our school (which is called Hillcrest, by the way), which is why there aren't as many Nigerian kids as other kids. We do have a bunch of Nigerian kids, but none of our neighbors from our compound go to Hillcrest. It's funny because we're not rich, but I guess compared to a lot of people here, we seem rich. 

In my grade there are people from all over the world. It's so cool! Shelley is from Australia. Louisa is from Denmark. Debbie is from Ireland. Sophia is from, I think, Lebanon. (Mom says that's in the Middle East, where they speak Arabic.) Sunipa is from India. Laura B. is from Canada. (There is another Laura, and she is from America. There is also another Sara—can you believe it? Without an H! She's half-Canadian and half-American.) Shelley says sometimes they have a food fair later in the year, when they have people bring food from their countries. It sounds gross, but she says people dress up in clothes from their countries, too, which is really pretty. 

Another weird thing I found out this week is that some of the kids in my class don't live with their parents. I mean, that happened in L.A., too, but here I mean some kids live in hostels. Ruth says they're like college dorms, except for kids. They call it boarding. Have you heard of that before? So their parents live hours and hours away, and the kids only see their parents on vacation and for special occasions and then for the summer. Can you believe it? I can't imagine not living at home. Becky is a new girl in my class who lives in a hostel with her brother and sister, who are in 6th grade and 8th grade. Her hostel is called Mountain View, and the people who take care of her and the other kids are called houseparents. She says it's not so bad. But I don't think I would like it. There are lots of hostels, I guess. One of them is here on the compound, but all the others are somewhere else in town, and they're run by different missions. Our mission doesn't really have one, I don't think. Meaghan lives in a building that used to be a hostel, but her family is the only one there right now. It's called Niger Creek. 

Oh, I forgot to tell you last time that Lisa, Jon, and I all go to the same school! It's one big school for everyone, 1st grade to 12th grade. We're in different buildings, but it's all one school. Isn't that funny? So when you drive on the compound, there's a big parking lot on the left. The chapel is way up the hill on the left. The basketball courts and the playground are kind of in the middle. There's a swingset and see-saws by the music building, and that's by the 1st- and 2nd-grade building. Our building's on the other side of the playground. Then the 5th grade building is way off on the left. They have their own four-square and tetherball and a volleyball net—oh and a little soccer field or something. Behind our building is the middle school building, which is two stories tall. That's where Jon goes to school. The high school building is all the way on the other side of the basketball courts. I haven't been over there yet. And there's a gym, which is on your right when you drive onto the compound. And a big track. Ruth and Shelley say we have to run a mile for P.E. every semester. Can you believe it? A mile?! 

Do you know what a compound is? I didn't until this week! A compound is a group of buildings all surrounded by like a fence or a wall. We live on the hospital compound, which is really big and has the whole hospital and a bunch of houses for the doctors and other people who work there. There's one main gate where we go in and out. There's another gate, too, closer to the houses, but it's locked all the time. Jessica says it used to be open sometimes, but it isn't anymore. The girls are going to take me exploring this weekend. They told me about an old car wreck where a lady died a long time ago. Sounds spooky. 

My hand is getting tired. The pencils here aren't very good. They keep breaking. Oh, and Mom says letters I mail may take a month to reach you. So when you get this one, don't worry if the next one takes a long time. I've written my address on the back of this paper. I don't know what PMB stands for, but I guess it's like a P.O. box. Your letters may take forever to get here, too. I won't worry, but please write! 

Love, 
Sara