Jill Rees: Welcome Press

I would advise anyone to practise Buddhism if they want to meet a Welshman in Nigeria, as it seems to work for me. While I’ve found a hotel, it’s quite grotty and shall we say the customer service skills are somewhat Nigerian. I pay 11,500 naira per night, which is supposed to include breakfast. I slept like a log the first night, and was surprised to be woken at 6.45 by room service, carrying a huge plate of chips. My first thought was that I’d slept through and Chatchei had sent over my supper, but the waiter told me it was my complimentary breakfast. I suggested coffee would be more appropriate and off he went, shaking his head. He returned with some nescafe and when I asked for the toast which was on the menu he said only the drink was included. Or chips, obviously.

Later I spoke with the receptionist who suggested he must have meant that there was no fresh bread that day, as definitely toast is included. So next day when he brought a pot of hot water and some Liptons tea bags, I told him about the toast. He shook his head but agreed to go and speak with the chef. After the tea was well brewed, he returned with some toast, saying it wasn’t included but his boss had told him to bring me some anyway in case I got angry.  Then I realised there was no butter or jam, but was too tired to argue any more.

I carried the tray down to the receptionist and showed her my dry toast. There was a heated debate among the various staff members who were there, but I managed to get them to agree to meet with the restaurant staff to agree a policy. Apparently I should get tea or coffee, toast with butter and jam. We’ll see what happens tomorrow.

Today I went shopping with Delita my new friend who is a Buddhist. She showed me all the shops that the Nigerians keep hidden in dark buildings with no adverts. To my surprise, you can actually find things to buy in Abuja. I called Stephanie with some information about where to buy paper, then proceeded to the shoe shop. I went to the market first, where I had bartered for two pairs of shoes, but more about Wuse market when I feel less culture shocked. The shoes were lovely and there’s a sale on so I bought a pair. Then on to clothes, two nice tops. They are twice the price of the UK because they’re imported and imported here doesn’t mean cheap of course but more expensive as the naira is poor to the pound. I tried to barter a bit but the shop girl said she was too scared of her Madame (boss) to take money off.

Delita then took me round for a pedicure. The women here really keep themselves nice and dress smartly, so a weekly manicure is a must. My total pedicure cost five pounds and was very good. I bought my own cuticle remover, because they’re not sterilised (actually there was no electricity as NEPA is the name of the company, or some other reason unknown to the rational mind). Luckily I did because she cut my toe to shreds. Nevertheless that cuticle is removed and my feet are like a baby’s bottom. Only with nail varnish.

Delita suggested I call Kunle to come and get us in the car while we ate our Shawama or Nigerian kebab. I suggested waiting as he’s very quick. After a while I texted him and within 2 minutes he was there. How? Apparently he’d been driving past at the time. He drove us to my hotel and Delita took us into a little cottage opposite with lovely rooms and each couple of rooms having a lounge with TV and breakfast area. The ornament were cute and it had that air of comfort. The restaurant was furnished with ethnic tables and chairs covered with carvings, I’ll post a photo when I get time, and a little garden. The owner, Mike, is half Welsh, half Nigerian. ‘You are welcome to eat yer,’ he said, ‘But I don’t do caul.’  His mother’s from Tregaron but lives in Kaduna, where he’s been visiting her as she’s very ill.  He offered us a glass of juice, complained about Nigeria for a bit, and found me a lovely room. The place is very homely, which you need if you’re in hotels for a while. The electricity was off, and his generator hadn’t been fixed from last time. He said he felt like refunding everyone’s money so they’d go away and he could sit on his own and cry. It made me feel right at home Elissa. By the way, how are they doing at the Assembly in Cardiff?

I decided to move in Tuesday, but when I returned to my hotel I couldn’t get in, as the electricity cuts had thrown the sliding doors out and they wouldn’t open wide enough to slide a body through. Other people were waiting indoors to get out. I said what would happen if there was a fire. ‘Oh we’ve got fire exits’. Well can we use the fire exits while you mend the doors? Eventually someone found the key to the fire exits and I got in. I decided to move tomorrow.

Then Kelly phoned and offered me a lift to the Buddhist meeting tomorrow. He’s a lovely man. His grandfather was adopted by an Irishman called Kelly who gave him and education and he took his name. a bit like Richard Burton. See we’re back in the valleys. Kelly’s an architect who started to practise Buddhism in the US where his wife still lives. A lot of couples here are separated by their jobs, and visit when they can. Your eyes are opened here, by the high quality of life and the assumption that they will live in luxury. Believe me, not all Africans are poor or live in mud huts.

So I’ve got some photos and will upload them when I am in my new new room in new new Wales. But Mike I am not eating the goats brains. Apparently that’s a Nigerian dish not a Welsh one.  Love to all, especially Ev who I can’t manage to get through to on the phone - you must be busy studying.

Related posts

• Sustainable education - experience (0)
• Report from Abuja Nigeria (0)
• We’ve still got time. (0)
• The Return of Martin Guerre (0)
• Stories of Nations (0)

Tags: Art, Buddhism, Creative Writing, Friend, home, money, Nigeria, Quality, Rain, Work