Living in 2 worlds
Door: Thessa
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25 Augustus 2008 | Nigeria, Suleja
Nearly 2 years in Nigeria have gone by without a trip to my motherland and my holiday these last few weeks was a celebration of friendship that survives time and distance. What a fantastic, rich feeling to know so many good people!
Apart from that the holiday was, of course, a comparative study.
Often I got the question whether it was a culture shock to be back home. And yes, I did feel estranged from the way everything is organised, the paternalistic attitude of the government, the complaints about the “economic hardship” in a country that is actually so rich… And it was also in the little things, like how it took me 2 weeks before I could drink water without wanting to spit it out because of a fear of typhoid, or like how I kept asking people whether I could charge my phone or whether they had drinking water in their houses. But also in how the scenery was so different: the herds of cows without a Fulani shepherd to go with it, the green meticulously trimmed, the traffic signs at every 2 meters, or the apparent uniformity of cars and buildings without the immense poor-rich divide seen in a place like Abuja.
Still, at the same time, it was as it had always been, like I had left yesterday. At a certain stage it became a vague concept, even to me, to be living so far away, in Nigeria. Nigeria is also home, and feels like just a train ride away. Like when I was a student in Maastricht and going to my family’s home for the weekend. Feeling at home is the direct result of adaptation. And the easiest way to adapt is not to see ‘the other’ as ‘the other’ but as a different version of the same thing. The longer I am away, or the longer I live in Nigeria, the more I realise that everywhere is basically the same.
Of course the layer on top of this basic sameness can be quite thick. When I first arrived in Nigeria I wanted to write a blog entry 10 times a day because everything was so spectacularly new and different. Now it seems so normal that I often have to remind myself of the fact that I am living on a different continent. After hundreds of photos taken in the first months, I am now never with my camera. I started off living in another world, and now it’s part of the same world.
Globalisation instead of emigration. And no, it’s not just that things have become normal. The more you focus on the basic sameness of the human race and not on the cultural layer, you find yourself part of the human race. I know that the “us them distinction” is crucial to forming a cultural identity, but how great if you don’t try to label yourself as part of your own people, but as part of everybody else.
Having that said: the layer is thick. People may have the same emotions but express themselves so utterly different that I often get either a laughing fit or the urge to hit something. And putting all the pseudo philosophy on similarities aside: I still believe I have put a curse on myself –from now on, in whichever world I am, I will always miss something from the other world…
Apart from that the holiday was, of course, a comparative study.
Often I got the question whether it was a culture shock to be back home. And yes, I did feel estranged from the way everything is organised, the paternalistic attitude of the government, the complaints about the “economic hardship” in a country that is actually so rich… And it was also in the little things, like how it took me 2 weeks before I could drink water without wanting to spit it out because of a fear of typhoid, or like how I kept asking people whether I could charge my phone or whether they had drinking water in their houses. But also in how the scenery was so different: the herds of cows without a Fulani shepherd to go with it, the green meticulously trimmed, the traffic signs at every 2 meters, or the apparent uniformity of cars and buildings without the immense poor-rich divide seen in a place like Abuja.
Still, at the same time, it was as it had always been, like I had left yesterday. At a certain stage it became a vague concept, even to me, to be living so far away, in Nigeria. Nigeria is also home, and feels like just a train ride away. Like when I was a student in Maastricht and going to my family’s home for the weekend. Feeling at home is the direct result of adaptation. And the easiest way to adapt is not to see ‘the other’ as ‘the other’ but as a different version of the same thing. The longer I am away, or the longer I live in Nigeria, the more I realise that everywhere is basically the same.
Of course the layer on top of this basic sameness can be quite thick. When I first arrived in Nigeria I wanted to write a blog entry 10 times a day because everything was so spectacularly new and different. Now it seems so normal that I often have to remind myself of the fact that I am living on a different continent. After hundreds of photos taken in the first months, I am now never with my camera. I started off living in another world, and now it’s part of the same world.
Globalisation instead of emigration. And no, it’s not just that things have become normal. The more you focus on the basic sameness of the human race and not on the cultural layer, you find yourself part of the human race. I know that the “us them distinction” is crucial to forming a cultural identity, but how great if you don’t try to label yourself as part of your own people, but as part of everybody else.
Having that said: the layer is thick. People may have the same emotions but express themselves so utterly different that I often get either a laughing fit or the urge to hit something. And putting all the pseudo philosophy on similarities aside: I still believe I have put a curse on myself –from now on, in whichever world I am, I will always miss something from the other world…
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Je kunt nu ook Smileys gebruiken. Via de toolbar, toetsenbord of door eerst : te typen en dan een woord bijvoorbeeld :smiley
