No Church. Feeding Woes

Day 5
Of course, going to church is ruled out for me, because I don’t speak French. Unless I’m going to examine the beauty of the church building (this is a tourist town, most of these buildings are historical). Yeah so I decide to watch a live service from my home church. That doesn’t work, as the connection keeps breaking, so I switch to the iRadio broadcast. That works much better, and that’s that.
In the evening, I go to the city centre again, to look for food. I decide to enter a small street by the side (most of their streets are actually small, like alleys. As in I’m sure they trained their bus drivers on how to maneuver if 2 of them meet on the way, because most of these roads can only contain 1 car at a time. I don’t get why the people of this town decided to build their city so). On this street, I buy a quarter of a pizza, some bread and cheese, and some apples. The bread and cheese, ugh! Nyama. I won’t be going down that road again. My tummy is even paining me as I type this. I hope it’s not food poisoning though…

Day 6
Today is Orientation Day, and I’m supposed to be at school by 9am. When I get there, I (finally) see the Programme Coordinator, and she introduces me to my classmates. So far, they seem like cool people, as I haven’t noticed any ‘oversabi’ traits. Oh well, so one of the lecturers takes us through the orientation process, we get our course schedules, outlines and what not, and then afterwards we have to head downstairs to listen to a speech by the Dean. Now, maybe I’m naïve, but I expected this speech to be in French first, then English later – which is why I am relieved when the Dean concludes his speech and hands the microphone to a woman. This madame goes “I hope you all understood what the Dean said, because I can see the faces of many international students. Err…je vais continuer en Francais…..” At this point, the speech is over for me, and I have to say that I don’t think that was very nice. You might as well have invited only people who speak French to listen to the speech, because while I know it’s a French school, you also know you have international students (I mean, my lectures are in English). Anyway, whatever. It’s not as if I like speeches, I was just struck by the inconsiderate nature of the whole thing.
After the speech is time for lunch. While picking up my tray to go stand in line, I spy fried rice (yay!). Brethren, when I finally settle down to eat, I quickly find that the food isn’t half as yummy as it looks. I try my very best, but I can’t even eat the food halfway. I concentrate on my appetizer (the veggies at the top right corner of the tray), but no way.

Figure 1, my ‘lunch’

Then I try my dessert, the absolute worst. I give up. I have a Twix bar in my bag, so I humbly pull it out and begin to eat. Oh and that bread you see up there, can pass for a replica of the Rock of Gibraltar.
After this ‘lunch’ experience, we do a couple more stuff (open bank accounts, etc) and start heading home. In the evening, I decide to go to one huge, popular supermarket on the outskirts of town, to purchase kitchen utensils (because I didn’t find in the ones I previously went to). Hmm. So this place is really, really huge. Like if you go there with your child and s/he wanders off, just start crying. For real o.
Anyway, I’m not going to go into the details of what I bought, but let’s just say I wanted to cry afterwards, because of the amount of money I spent. Now I know its not easy to live on your own, and I appreciate that my dad never let me do that while I was earning that my tiny salary (even though I kept kicking and screaming for my own place). How would I have survived? Sha sha, I’m happy I can now cook, and I don’t have to depend on the French to feed me. Whether or not I’ll actually cook, is a question for the gods.

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2 thoughts on “No Church. Feeding Woes

    • LoL. Their hard floor has done what all the floors in Nigeria couldn’t do, to my phone. I’m in mourning, and I won’t explore anything till a respectable amount of time has passed. (RIP sweetie 😦 ) :p

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