the week that remains

I have just a little over one week, seven days, one weekend, two Mondays that remain of my time in Ibadan, UI, Nigeria, the Adedokuns. Saturday marks my 100th day of Nigeria. It is bittersweet. This weekend I

– rode okadas (street motorcycles – don’t tell Mom)
– made ‘Thanksgiving dinner’ on Thursday with mashed irish potatos, creamed greens, kraft mac and cheese, kraft stuffing, and moinmoin (Nigerian beancakes) 
– danced with a bride and groom at a wedding
– got pulled OUT of that dance circle when the groomsmen got too close by my panicky host mother
– ate more and more egg buns!
– had maybe one of my last suya dinners, so many tears (not just from the onions)
– had a woman start crying when I spoke Yoruba
– stunned a street-seller with the proverb ‘aigbofa la n wo oke, ifa kan ko si ni para’ or ‘the person who can’t speak divination watches the ceiling, there is no ifa on the ceiling.’ 
– sat on my porch watching the hot sun and falling asleep for three hours resulting in an embarrassing sun burn
– re-read Man’s Search for Meaning 
– taught my host brother about America history aka watched the musical 1776 

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