We Are The Littles

Ok, so I made it to Frankfurt, Germany. Our flight was late but I still have a little time to waste. I usually call MBM when I get here but since I was late I figured it would be best not to as I might wake up the chubby wee-wun sleeping next to her and that would not bode well for me. Or her.

Anyway, the flight was uneventful which is just the way I like it. Not much else to tell other than leaving our abode and going back to Port Harcourt is getting harder and harder to do. However, I do try to always see the positive side of things and one of those positive things are the amazing Frankfurt Airport toilet seats. Don’t believe me? I’ve mentioned them before but never obtained proof on just how awesome these little beauties are. Video below for your viewing pleasure… Live from Germany. Gabe Little. Over & out.

My relief finally decided to show up. I’m going to Lagos to meet him and do a handover. That’s good because it gets me out of Port Harcourt 24hrs earlier than expected. It doesn’t get me home any quicker though since my flight to Germany doesn’t leave until late tomorrow night.

I’m sitting in the Port Harcourt International Airport, typing this out on my oh-so-trusty iPhone. I’ll be in Lagos before you read it though because there is no wireless connection here. Big surprise.

Even bigger surprise… They have George Jones music coming from somewhere behind one of the counters in the picture. Strange.

So, I have left the USA once again. It sucks but someone has to make money so MBM can spend it all.

Nowadays MBM is all about finding ways to save money and be as frugal as possible. I keep waiting for her to start stealing silverware from restaurants. When she does come across a good find, coupon, or other deal it’s a small mental victory for her and a financial victory for us! I tend to spend money a little easier, sometimes like it’s going out of style! Guess we compliment each other in that respect.

On-the-other-hand, I tend to be a lot more organized and I hate clutter. MBM is slightly LESS organized and not so bothered by clutter. So where am I going with this? I scored a little mental victory when I was packing the other night. One of those OCD traits I got from dear old Dad. Dad is a packing machine, especially when it comes to vehicles at Christmas time. I’m not bad at vehicles, but I’m almost an expert at packing for my trips. See the pictures below.

In the tupperware I got:

1. 72 Special K Cereal Bars (6 boxes of 12ea)
2. 100 Crystal Light Water Flavor Packets (10 boxes of 10ea)

In the entire bag I got:

1. The Tupperware
2. A Pair of Jeans
3. 3 deodorants
4. Shampoo
5. Body Wash
6. Toothbrush / Toothpaste
7. Louisiana Hot Sauce
8. A Book
9. A Bag of Chocolates (for an employee)
10. 3 Boxes of Nose Spray
11. 2 packages of Batteries
12. 40 Packets of Instant Oatmeal (4boxes of 10ea)

So, I was proud of my packing skills last night. Now I’m trying to figure out what I can fit in there next time. Any ideas?

Over & out from the Frankfurt Airport. Next stop, Lagos.

Well, it’s almost 1am here and I just finished packing up. Unfortunately I’ll be waking up in a mere 4 hours but at least I’m going home. The big big bossman from Lagos was here all day today and he was pleased with everything which makes me feel good. He keeps saying he’ll be working for me one day which makes me feel even better. Guess I haven’t screwed things up too bad (despite some seriously rough ass-chewings over the last 5 weeks!).

I’m heading out tomorrow afternoon on the 5pm flight to Lagos. I’ll be staying at the bossmans house for the night and then I’m on the 11am flight from Lagos to Atlanta. Home sweet home here I come.

As for the new house, our financing is basically done and the owner has pretty much repaired everything. I’ve been arguing a little bit with the seller’s realtor, pretty much because she seems to be as dumb as a rock and it makes me feel better. I don’t think I’ve been out of line though. She’s just not smart and it gets on my nerves.

So there you have it. I should be landing Thursday night around 11pm. It will be great to be home again. Adios until next time.

Story one happened today. Since last Monday I moved into the bossman’s office for a little more privacy. My office has windows facing the interior and everyone can see me inside and what I’m doing so I moved out. Anyway, I’m sitting in the big man’s office this afternoon when a bunch of people from the Rivers State Committee on Public Complaints come barging in. They had just had a long drawn-out shoutfest with our CLO (Community Liaison Officer) and they were not happy. They wanted money. Anyway, the first guy comes through the door and is a Sergeant in the Nigerian military. He wasn’t in uniform, but he had this scowl on his face and looked pretty pissed. Then come the other 4 guys along with our CLO. So, the first thing I notice when they come barging in is that the Sergeant has his pointer finger on his right hand in his nose and is trying to pick a winner. The first thing that goes through my mind… I’m not shaking this guys hand. So I moved on to another fellow and introduced myself to him and then moved the conversation on. I never did have to shake the Sergeants booger-infested hand. I wouldn’t have done it anyway and I’m sure that would have set them off even more. Anyway, after a brief conversation they left. No money was exchanged but their not done with their hostile tactics yet. They’ll be back… But I won’t be here!

Story two took place a week or so ago. Another community (by the way, communities are pretty much organized gangs that control one area) heard we were putting in a swimming pool at the bossman’s house. They apparently thought they were owed money for us to have this privilege. Unfortunately for them we know they aren’t the community that controls that property and we paid our “dues” to the right community years ago. So, the community trying to shake us down threatened to tie a coffin to the front gate of the bossman’s compound and not let anyone in or out. When they do this, they decorate the coffin with fierce colors and make a big to-do out of it. It’s pretty much the equivalent of a Louisiana-style gris-gris or VooDoo for everyone else. The theory behind the coffin… The person or persons staying there will die and the coffin will carry them into the afterlife. FYI - remember at the beginning of this hitch I was staying at the bossman’s house because my internet was down? It’s the compound with the turkeys. It’s that compound they were putting the gris-gris on. Luckily I’ve been back at my place for weeks now. Anyway, there are normally three expats staying there in three different houses. The funny part is that two of the expats are gone and the only one left is one guy from India. So, if the gris-gris worked guess who was going to be riding the coffin into the afterlife? Of course I teased the Indian fellow about it but it never came to that. They never followed through with their threats.

Speaking of turkeys, there were three baby turkeys and now there is only one left plus momma and poppa turkey. The first one died and nobody knows how. The second one died late last week. It was underneath one of the vehicles… Hopefully the remaining one will make it to turkey adulthood.

So, this is probably my last entry until I get home. I can’t get out of here quick enough. See you stateside!

Technorati Tags: Port Harcourt, Nigeria, Work, Story, Coffin, Voodoo, Gris-Gris, Turkeys