Fashion, smashion

I started this post to counter my parents’ bleak view of my daily life in Lagos, beset by terrible traffic and constant power outages. It occurred to me that the best way to show them the city’s vibrant cultural scene was through my good friend Bolu Solaja’s colorful and innovative designs for her Ayobolu fashion line.

I met Bolu in October 2010 when she was the Costume Designer on the set of Tunde Kelani’s Ma’ami  and became enchanted by her simple silhouettes and creative mix of Ankara patterns. I was honored when she generously offered to dress me for the many events that the Lagos arts community offers – from movie premieres to film festivals.

With Director Kunle Afolayan at "Reading & Producing Nollywood: An International Symposium". Photo © 2011 NEXT on Sunday

With fellow Fulbrighter Jennifer Blaylock at the FESPACO film festival, Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso. Photo © 2011 Carmen McCain

At the premiere of Mahmood Ali-Balogun's "Tango with Me". Photo © 2011 BellaNaija.com

At the premiere of Emem Isong’s “Kiss & Tell”. Photo © 2011 NollywoodUncut.com

And what happens when I am left to my own devices. With Director Faruk Lasaki at the Eko International Film Festival. © 2011 Supple Magazine

Lagos, I love you and I refuse to let you bring me down

My Fulbright grant period ended last Wednesday. I’ve decided to extend my stay in Lagos to work with Del-York International, a leading media and communications company, to facilitate an intensive training program in media production with the New York Film Academy for 300 students over four weeks in August. I also believe that this initiative will some

As a tribute to this crazy, wonderful, frustrating, exhilarating megalopolis, I am sharing my friend Zach‘s beautiful shots of this modern megacity (and some not-so-modern aspects).

Over the coming months, I’m going to try to top this experience by making pit stops in Sao Paulo to co-curate South America’s first Nollywood film festival, Vietnam to celebrate my birthday, Hong Kong to see my newly-married cousin, Singapore and Jakarta to visit old friends, the Philippines to sit on the beach, and somewhere Spanish-speaking to prepare for my Foreign Service language exam (for the adult career that I will have…eventually).

The Senate House at the University of Lagos - my home for the last 10 months. Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

Burning garbage in "ritzy" Victoria Island, where property prices match those of Manhattan. This is for you, Leven. Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

Lagos lagoon at sunset. Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

"Okada" (commercial bikes) drivers crossing the Falomo Bridge. Did I tell you about the time that my okada ran out of fuel...while crossing an overpass...during rush hour? Or about the time that I crossed the Lagos-Cotonou border on the back of one? Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

Lagos lagoon. Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

Lagos skyline at night. Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

Danfo park. Photo © 2011 Zach Levine

A notorious, but colorfully harmonious "go-slow". © 2011 Zach Levine

A Southern Adventure Poem

Landed in Bangalore in the morning
with lots of research to do.
First meal was from Andhra Pradesh
and was on a banana leaf too.

The hostel that we stayed at
was full of foreign folk
so we moved in the Barons Inn
the dead rat was not a joke.

Searched near and far for Hardrock
but found UBCity instead
danced with backpacks at the ice bar
techno beating in our head.

Diarria accompanied to Hyderabad
where we saw the Golconda Fort

Gates at Golcanda Fort

Nimi cliped nails at the Catholic home
while on her laptop Rachel held court.

Took over every corner
of Teja’s family’s place
drove round in an ac car
escaping the rat race.

There were neon chicks and embassy peeps
no day trips did we take

Eating in a cave/safari themed restaurant in Hyderabad.

instead we sampled restaurants,
we were Hyderabadi flakes.

Plane-ed it down to Chennai
on St.Valentine’s special day
nimi ate a pizza in bed
while S&R went out to play.

The auto drivers were all douchbags
but we got a free ride to the beach,
saw a crazy white lady with a dog
many sites we could not reach.

For off we went on to Vellore
where our spirits were revived
by Amma’s healing powers
without puja we survived.

Escaped to Pondicherry,
where the great seafood binge began
saw Auroville’s golden golf ball
biked to pizza napoletan.

We didn’t see the crystal
but felt its sacred vibe,
inspired us to rent some scooters
and go north for a ride.

Fought with the great ASI
to see a temple on the shore
ate shrivelled peanuts at the Clive bar
Mahabalipuram we did endure.

Overnight we bused to Madurai
and on to Nagercoil
a third bus to the southern tip
reaching Kanyakumari was a toil.

And finally to Kerala
where Kollam was deserted
the hotel was a ghost-town
our disappointment was asserted.

Our first backwater excursion
involved a man in a red vinyl hat
he said that no Monroean drank
yet along the banks glass bottles sat.

From canoe onto a cruise ship,
eight hours to Alleppey.
Made friends with French Tamilians
Ukrainians found yoga, “not funn-y.”

On the rainy trip to Kumarakom
a full bladder got Rachel humming
jack fruit seeds and taco bell sauce
made for a dinner that was something.

Next day we spent the morning
arranging a three hour boat ride
but it was worth for the lotus marriage chain
and the singing cab driver sad to leave our side.

Kerala Backwaters

Cochin won the charming prize
though De Gama’s plaque was hard to unravel
to morning service at the synagogue
on bicycles we did travel.

Oiled from ayurveda
we got onto the bus
to celebrate Nimi’s special news
old monk and fart sounds were a must.

And back we were in Bangalore
to the ratty Barons Inn
the days has started melding
into one long lasting din.

Trains, scooters and ten buses later
twelve cities we have conquered.
S&R ate animals in every town and form
while dosas Nimi sampled.

Our lovely Footprint guidebook
was a giant scam.
It steered us wrong so many times,
we could have eaten better out of cans.

But all in all the southern states
taught us deep humility
for odour caused by sweaty pits
can’t be avoided in humidity.

Rachel whined about having work,
and Nimi refused to sit in the middle.
Shalabh’s snores kept us up all night
But we solved this epic southern riddle.

An auspicious dip in the water at Kanyakumari

A Southern Adventure Part 1

Where to start? This has been a LOOONG month. My travel companions and I are working on a very corny poem to sum it all up but I’ll give you the week by week run down first.

I’ve actually come full circle and am sitting in the same hotel in Bangalore where I last posted from. Perfect. The first time around I was neck deep in research, today I am just relaxing and watching Friends – Like the sun it is always shining its light somewhere in the world.  On the bus from the airport that first day, Bangalore seemed to have a small town feel, unusual for a major Indian city. There are a lot of parks and it’s short and sprawling. The official name for the city is Bangaluru, after Karanatic

Yes, this is a bin to spit in. One of a kind in my experience.

locals successfully protested in 2007 for a change from the British coined name. It is the capital city of the state of Karnataka and a center for India’s software tech industry. It was an especially great chance to learn about E-Waste. I met with the managing director of one of India’s major formalized ewaste processing facilities. Hoping to tour the plant tomorrow! But you can read all about that on Wastelines.com (eventually).

There aren’t a huge amount of tourist locations to hit in Bangalore, other than the botanical garden and a museum run by the state, we didn’t see much. The museum, though, featured mughal style miniatures, antiques and artifacts from the earliest Indian civilizations. There was also a wing housing a more current artist. The labels weren’t terribly informative, but at 4 Rupees it was the best value for ticket I have ever seen. I was traveling with a Hindi speaker and fellow Fulbrighter but the locals do not speak Hindi as a first language, nor do they in any other Southern State. In Bangalore and Kerala you found some good Hindi speakers but English was usually the best form of communication for this trip, it gave Nimi a nice

Another clever way to get people to spit nice and throw things away, Bunny Rabbit Garbage Cans.

taste of what life for me can be like in Delhi.

Through my research we saw a tiny bit of the local world that still hangs on at the corners of the city’s growth. This included a trip to bottle recycling row. However our first impression of Bangalore as a sleepy town didn’t change as we discovered the international mall culture and tech/expat lifestyle that runs in a wave of its own above the rest of the city. The entre into this

KR Market

universe was a trip to Taco Bell (no beef, or mostly beef meat served), one of two in Bangalore, and the only ones in India. Nimi, though a life -long vegetarian, is crazy about the chain. She even brought her own Taco Bell sauces from the US for this special occasion. Apparently she is not the only fanatic. It was only the

Nrityagran Dance Village

second time I have ever eaten at Taco Bell, and actually I think the last time I ate it, I was also out of the US. Can’t say I was impressed. Nimi swears that it was a poor representation of the brand but I don’t know… We also spent a solid afternoon hanging out at UB City which, according to some locals, is supposed to be modeled after Times Square and seems to be the hub of Bangalore’s growing expat community and middle/upper

UB City, Main Tower

class. If you take away from Times Square the overcrowded streets, the heavy traffic, noise, and garbage, (basically what you find in the rest of India), then sure I guess UB City fits the bill. We also made a stop at the Nrityagran dance village to see dance practice. It was interesting to see the reverence for the teacher and the strict drilling that the practice requires. Most impressive was a move that required the students to squat close to the ground and then pop up to standing again and again with increasing speed. I have been trying to practice it ever since then, and now my ankles are hurting. After the cute factor of watching little kids jump around wore off we roamed around the grounds which had a secret garden design, then it was local buses back to the city. If anyone is ever in Banaglore and thinks they might go to this studio, make sure you factor in time for lunch at the Taj resort right next store. It looked great and makes the hour long trek out there more worthwhile.

Finally, we had some great food experiences. Our first day we got a delicious thali (all-you-can-eat meal of veggies, dal, and other curries and chutneys) that was served on a banana leaf, not our last time eating off of one in South India.

A classic, "I'm way too cool for this expensive restaurant," face.

We also ate a not so great meal in a  restaurant that had walls to look like a cave and trinkets designed with the royal seal. It was called Queens. Very strange. And for all my bad mouthing UB City we had some great

sandwiches at Cafe Noir with the best bread I’ve had in India, including french-i Pondicherry, for prices that were at least better than Delhi. In Bangalore Nimi also started her epic search for a delicious Dosa in South India.

After a very busy and productive first week we were off on an overnight train to Hyderabad.

 

Nimi in perspective

LIVE (I swear!) from Lagos

I haven't been slacking, I swear!

Rachel completely shamed me with her allusion to “failure” in her last post, so I am picking up the slack in fear that we will lose our future book deal. Over the past four months, I have been completely absorbed in my research–I have followed four movie productions, written two newspaper articles, appeared in one film promotion, and I’m now planning one international symposium–all of which you can read about on my research blog. I have summarized notable non-research milestones by month in a photo essay below.

Overall, my time in Lagos has reaffirmed that fact that I’m a city girl. This place is the most extreme of urban megalopolises and I love every frustrating, fascinating, and intriguing aspect of it (in no particular order):

• Lagos time: There are two speeds in this city: all at once, or nothing at all. I’ve waited for weeks to make contact with a film maker–only to join him on location as he shot his feature film two days later.  My flat mate, Marieke, encountered a billboard today that is a perfect analogy for this phenomenon: A cure for erectile dysfunction or premature ejaculation.
• Inside-out urban planning: The airport is located in the center of the city, while the central business district is isolated on an island in its far reaches. All of Lagos is technically considered a slum–the poshest residential areas and the poorest neighborhoods share frequent power outages, water shortages, illegal vendors, and impassible roads. Nothing here makes sense, but it all seems to work.
• The smell of burning garbage: This transcontinental reminder of Rachel and her research project follows me wherever I go: on Thursday mornings while crossing the Third Mainland Bridge, on Saturday evenings while lounging on Banana Island, this afternoon emanating from a smoldering pile in my backyard. All sarcasm aside, Lagos is the only city where I have been that is instantly recognizable by its smells–the second that I step out of the arrival hall at Murtala Muhammed Airport, I only have to inhale to know that I’ve returned “home”.
• The “oyinbo” effect: In this city of 15-20 million people, acquaintances that I meet once will still remember my name and greet me effusively upon our second encounter…along with the newspaper seller on the street corner that I’ve frequented twice in the last four months. There is no New York-style urban anonymity here for foreigners (“oyinbo” is Yoruba for “white person”). While the American education system has taught me to physically recoil at the thought of singling people out solely for their race, it is an oddly comforting, community-building practice that has made Lagos feel more navigable for an outsider.
• The energy: I still can’t put my finger on what it is, but the air crackles whenever I: crank up the Afrobeat while plowing across the Third Mainland Bridge; read in my living room at sunset; maneuver the corridors of Onikan on the back of an okada; hear the slate mark the umpteenth take on a movie set; sweat profusely in a danfo during rush hour; crack open a Star beer on the waterfront; eat the last plantain in my ofada rice; temporarily lose my hearing after a long night out.

October 2010: Dedication Ceremony + Felabration 2010

My gracious Lagosian host Lara and I at the dedication ceremony for her new-born son, Ini. The "gele" (headwrap) fell off about 15 minutes later.

The last night of Felabration 2010 at the New Afrikan Shrine. Femi Kuti and D'banj perform onstage in front of 30,000 people.

Stacey and I at Felabration after my fainting spell. I recovered quickly in the medical tent with the help of the Kuti family doctor.

I recovered my second wind by watching Femi Kuti's dancers on the last night of Felabration 2010, the New Afrikan Shrine.

November 2010: Sallah Durbar in Kano

Upon arrival in Kano (Northern Nigeria), Stacey and I are treated to a delicious meal of masa with our hostess, Khudeja

At the Hawan Daushe Durbar, 5,000 horsemen representing Kano's 44 local government areas gather at the Emir's Palace to celebrate Eid-el-Kabir, marking the end of the Hajj Holy Pilgrimage.

Hawan Daushe Durbar at the Emir's Palace

Hawan Daushe Durbar at the Emir's Palace

Emir of Kano, Alhaji Ado Bayero

December 2010: The birthday edition ~ Idanre & Ouidah Benin

At my birthday get-together, TK and a few friends from the 'Ma'ami' crew surprised me with a cake!

TK and I

Kelley, the evening's hostess, with Jamiu

Sam with Folake & Olaitan

A group photo before going out

A few hours later (!), I piled into a bus with a few friends to spend the weekend hiking the gorgeous hills of Idanre (Ondo State)

Graham & Stacey hiking the hills of Idanre

The summit of Idanre Hills

That evening in Idanre, I received my 2nd birthday cake! Many thanks to master chef Kristiann

The next weekend, Kelley and I took a road trip across the border to the Republic of Benin...with no maps and zero French skills.

We reached our beach bungalow in Ouidah in time...

...to celebrate Marcela's birthday with drinks at sunset.

Ouidah, Benin

Marce, Kelley, and I at another delicious seafood dinner

Gate of No Return, Ouidah, Benin

January 2011: Ghana

I started 2011 by returning to my Ghanaian roots: another visit to the Green Turtle Lodge, the site of my 20th birthday celebration and the launch of my love affair with West Africa.

Green Turtle has all of my favorite things: french toast...

...hammocks

...sunrises on the beach

...and outdoor showers.

Accra was filled huge droup dinners...

...with old and new friends...

...and lots of pineapple!

Of course, I took the time to check out the Ghanaian film industry -- the operations of which are based in Opera Square.

February 2011: Too soon to tell
I’m planning a trip at the end of the month of Ouagadougou, Burkina Faso to attend FESPACO – the largest film festival in Africa!

===================================================================================
I leave you with a short dictionary of common Lagos-isms that I have adapted in the past four months since I am way too linguistically lazy to learn Yoruba or any other indigenous dialects:

• Cotonou: Refers to the entire neighboring country of the Republic of Benin, in which Cotonou is the capital city. This is completely understandable given the fact that the population of Benin is about half the size of the city of Lagos. There is also a Benin City in Eastern Nigeria, so this term serves as a disambiguation. [Usage] “I need to relax this weekend. Let’s cross the border into Cotonou!”
• Chop: Food, income, bribe, or to embezzle funds. [Usage] “That oga chopped plenty before he left office.”
• Dash: A tip or a bribe. [Usage] “I’ve dashed you plenty. Come now!”
• Dey: Use in place of “is” or “are”. [Usage] “Where you dey?” (location)
• For: Use in place of “from”. [Usage] “I dey for New York.” (origins)
• Go-slow: Traffic-jam. 
• How you dey?: How are you? [Response] I dey fine. 
• How far?: How is everything? [Response] See above.
• Keke Marwa: A tuk-tuk, or just marwa for short. 
• Oga: Big man or person in charge. Can also be used to butter up vendors when negotiating the price.  [Usage] “That oga chopped plenty before he left office.”
• Okada: Omnipresent commercial motorbikes. [Usage] “Watch out! You almost ran over that okada!”
• To ease oneself: To use the restroom. [Usage] “After that go-slow, I need to ease myself.”
• Wahallah: Any type of trouble or problem. [Usage] “I’m tired of all this wahallah”; “No wahallah-we can meet another time.”
• Wetin: What is? [Usage]”Wetin dey do you?” (5 bags of plantain chips for those who can guess what this means).

A New Post?

I’m sad to say this experiment in cross-continental blogging seems to be failing. Although Bic and I have had many a deep, insightful, and riveting conversation over skype and g-chat, I fear that we have not been meeting your expectations for this blog. I apologize and will try to make it up to you, our loving fans, with this update…

Contrary to what I imagined I might be doing in the fall, I spent most of it in Delhi and to top it off just finished my grad school apps!!! I won’t go into how research was, if you have been following wastelines you’ll see I’ve been getting some stuff out, learning a lot, and talking to a lot of cool people. But truthfully my overarching project is not looking as successful as I had hoped it would be. But, I think that is something that all fulbrighters have in common and were warned would probably happen anyhow. Someone recently shared a funny bit about the peace corps with me that i think is obviously overblown but pretty applicable my experience as well.

I think my last post on here, ‘Alone on Diwali’ was an interesting place to leave off. I am happy to report that Delhi became a real home over December and January. In fact I think I put down in my monthly report last week, “I have Indian friends <close report>.” But in truth I am happy to have found a real solid base of people to sit in cafes and in parks with, who cook me dinner, and patiently wait for me to cook them dinner, who drive me around on their motorcycles , who go out of their way to see me home safe at night, and who I think I will be in touch with for a long time to come. Or maybe that’s just the other side of four and a half months talking.

Speaking of which, at the end of January all of the fulbrighters who arrived in August seemed to pass over a peak and things are now rolling faster and faster towards May 15^th. I myself am just setting off on a month long trip through the south (research of course). The plan is to go from Bangalore to Hyderabad, Chennai and around Tamil Nadu to the southern most point in India, and then up the Kerala coast and back to Bangalore.(View Larger Map) Then in March I’ll be working and playing in Goa, then my aunt and uncle arrive to travel the country for a bit, then it’s already April! April will see a real trek in the north and then back to Delhi to finish up everything by mid may when my parents arrive after the party is over to clean up and take me home. There simply isn’t enough time!!

As I look back at some of my earliest posts, despite the you tube video I sent you just a paragraph or two above, I am struck by how much I’ve come to know about India and, as I write this from Bangaluru, how warped my view would have been if I had just spent my time in Delhi. Even having only seen a few days of the south and spent a few weeks in Gujarat I can start to appreciate the heterogeneous jigsaw puzzle that is India. Not just culturally also economically, linguistically, and politically. I’m looking forward to reflecting again on all of this in another month after many overnight trains, hotels, bedroom floors, and scooter rides.

Alone on Diwali

I wrote this title on Thursday night, Delhi was all covered in lights and lined with sweets for Diwali and I thought no one wanted to be my friend. However, yesterday at the last minute I got not one, but two party invites. I went to the latter, a dance party with about a third foreigners and the rest mostly Indians far from home. Unfortunately we did not do any of the actual religious rituals surrounding the holiday to pray to Lakshmi, the Goddess of Wealth, but we still has a ton of fun. As a sit here recovering from the celebrations I thought I would post some pictures of recent trips and Delhi wanderings. Click on the pictures to view lager versions. And, here is the link to 1 and 2 clips of music from the Rajasthan International Folk Festival.

Bananas in the Old City on Diwali

Sweets in Old Delhi on Diwali

Flowers on Diwali

Gelabi

Anti-Firecrackers sign on Diwali

Motorbike Transport

Pani Puri Vendor

Music Festival at Mehrangarh Fort

Mehrangarh Fort

Cows sleeping in Jodhpur

Jodhpur

Vegetable Markets and Giant Burning Effigies

For the last couple weeks I’ve been exploring the sites around Delhi and laying low while I work on research, Hindi classes, volunteering and various other odds and ends.

The coolest day trip so far has been an excursion  to Azadpur Mandi,  the world’s biggest fruit and vegetable market. I would never have thought to do this on my own, however one of the other fulbrighters that I’m living with is studying food distribution so it was a required trip for her. She brought a bunch of us along, wooing us out of bed at 5am with promises of American pancakes. The breakfast was good, and the market was awesome. I won’t try to speak for the intricacies of the market but the basics: Everyday farmers bring their goods into the city, which are then auctioned off in bulk to brokers who then sell the goods to distributors and vendors. Even booking it on the new metro system we reached the market after the main rush. Opening as early as 4am, by 10am the sales day is pretty much over.

Walking through the market, my olfactory system took a traumatic roller-coaster ride. Turn one corner and there were hundreds women sitting over, in, and under trucks cleaning garlic. Walk across the street and cilantro lifted your spirits, the solid green broken by the bright yellows of lemons and reds of hot peppers. But linger too closely to the curb or the space between trucks and the putrid scent of rotting rejects assaulted you. It was also very muddy, despite the end of the rainy season, so I was glad to have my attention grabbing baby blue galoshes. (Thanks Nithya for your insistence that i bring them and, as always, Chateau de la Nackman for the goods)

The same roommate who took us to the veggie market was also responsible for my trip to the Commonwealth Games. Her boyfriend swam for Kenya and won a gold in freestyle! Since he was also favored for the fly we all went along to see the event. All the tickets were sold out, but we scalped and got a few free tickets and still sat next to one another with no problem since A. the security wasn’t nearly as strict as I thought it would be, and B. many of the “sold out seats” were empty. Other than the poorly designed and universally uncomfortable seating, the stadium was nice. Our guy didn’t win, but it was still fun to  see a major world sporting event and watch the Indian Color Guards’ extremely odd marching style. (I also did a little write up for the research blog on the Greening of the Games.)

This week I took part in a city wide Vijayadashami festival, part of the 10 day festival Sharad Navratri - worshiping the nine forms of the Divine Mother (Devi). On the 17th, all over the city there were effigies of Ravana set up, some spots had thousands of people in attendance. In trendy Khan Market, we watched little kids dressed as warrior monkeys and kings reenact the story of the Goddess Sita’s capture and rescue. Once Ravana was defeated, one by one, three effigies were lit. The four story structures did not just burn, they exploded, and exploded and exploded! (see video)… punctuated by fireworks, all the way to the Ravana’s crown. The crowd, and ours was small at only a thousand, which had been pushing forward, changed tides and waves rippled away from the falling ash and flying sparks. I’m pretty sure my ears suffered long term damage. Driving through the streets that night you could hear blasts going off across the city. If it weren’t for the fireworks lighting up the sky you might have thought the city was under a full fledged attack.

Fun on location in Abeokuta

 

View of Abeokuta

 

 

Brazilian architecture in Abeokuta

 

I have spent two days on location with the cast and crew of Tunde Kelani’s Ma’ami in Abeokuta, a small city in Ogun State located approximately 100 km north of Lagos. The rolling landscape and the red tin roofs (a distinctive feature of the Brazilian architecture introduced to Nigeria by freed returned slaves from South America) remind me of Tuscany. I love the intricate details on the facades and the bright tropical colors that greet me when I step outside.

 

Olaitan (Assitant Director), me, Tolu (Digital Image Technician), and Jamiu (Production Manager)

 

 

Tolu explaining the finer points of digital imaging

Working in the production area with Tunde Kelani (TK)

Mornings on location are dedicated to working in the production area. I usually update my blog and conduct more research on Nollywood while the crew reviews the production schedule, sets up the camera, and edits clips. In a short time, I’ve really grown to admire and respect these professionals, expert technicians in their respective fields who have been hand-selected by Tunde Kelani (or TK as he prefers to be called) to contribute to his latest masterpiece.  They have welcomed me, the token oyinbo (foreigner) on set, with open arms and have treated me like a member of their extended family.

 

Ewa and do do (beans and plaintains)

Every night, I get to know them better at delicious dinners prepared by Tolu’s (Digital Image Technician) mother and sisters.

 

Hanging out with the crew on location in Kelani's family compound

 

 

With Becky, who's in charge of continuity and who's also my roommate

 

Today, we revisited the set (Kelani’s family compound where he grew up) with the full crew in order to run camera, lighting, and wardrobe tests.

Olumo Rock

 

 

Sacrificial site at Olumo Rock

 

As a reward for our hard work, TK took us on a cast and crew field trip to Olumo Rock, a refuge for the wives and children of Egba warriors over three years during the inter-tribal wars in the 1830s. These survivors formed the new town of Abeokuta (“under the rock”) commemorate their victory by sacrificing a black cow every year on August 5th.

 

Climb to the top of Olumo Rock

 

View of Abeokuta from the top of Olumo Rock

We climbed to the top of the rock, where we shared the same outlook point that allowed the Egba warriors to see the advance of their enemies and ultimately led them to victory. Everyone took a moment to take in the view as it marked the last free time that we would have for a while.  With the arrival of Funke Akindele, who plays the title role, shooting is scheduled to start tomorrow morning at 7am. For more continuous coverage of the set, visit www.findingnollywood.com.

Welcome to Lagos

 

View from the 3rd Mainland Bridge

 

 

50th Anniversary of Independence procession

 

Sunset overlooking Surulere

 

 

After two weeks in Lagos, I’m starting to establish myself in this megalopolis of 18 million people (not including the estimated 6,000 hopefuls who arrive daily). Thanks to the generosity of my former colleague, Tunji, I am staying with his lovely family in New Oko-Oba Agege, a residential neighborhood in northern Lagos.

 

My house, New Oko-Oba Agege

 

 

View of the bougainvillea from my window

 

 

My bedroom

 

A few days after I arrived, my hosts, Lara and Deji, held a Isomoloruko (naming ceremony) for their new-born son in our home. This Yoruba tradition is held one week after the birth and allows family members and close friends to submit names for the parents’ consideration. Like any other Nigerian celebration, the ceremony is followed by a huge feast. I had the pleasure of meeting many members of Lara and Deji’s extended family, who travelled from Kwara State and Ogun State to attend the event.

 

Lara and Deji at the naming ceremony

 

 

Ini

 

 

Guests at the naming ceremony

 

After navigating six-hour “go-slows” (aka traffic jams) every day, my research kick-started this week. I met Prof. Duro Oni, Dean of Arts at the University of Lagos and my on-campus sponsor, who is helping with the set-up of my office in the Faculty of Arts as well as housing in the faculty bungalows. Prof. Oni introduced me to Prof. Onookome Okome, a well-known Nollywood scholar who is spending a sabbatical year at the Pan-African University, a private college on Victoria Island. Prof. Okome in turn introduced me to Tunde Kelani, Nigeria’s most lauded director. I’m writing this post from the set of Ma’ami, Kelani’s newest epic. On Tuesday, I will follow cast and crew to their next location in Kelani’s hometown of Abeokuta (approx. 120 km outside of Lagos), where I spend the next two weeks. For continuous coverage of this shoot, go to FindingNollywood.com

 

On the set of Tunde Kelani's Ma'ami