Went to the Dome Cinema owned by The Charlotte Observer today to watch “Sea Monsters” on their iMAX screen. It was incredible. I am in the “field” so I shouldn’t be so awed, but it was something. I wanted to watch some other film on the one in London, but the night I went there with my brother, they didn’t have anything I thought was worth the experience. Though now that I think back on it, it seems the same “Sea Monsters” was one of the 2 or so films they had on that night. We started watching the “Dinosaurs” documentary after that, but they had focusing issues and returned the tickets for a full refund or come back another day to watch any of the films they had playing (not in Nigeria). Took the light rail (intercity train) to and fro. Clean and big and fast.
Ok, 2 nights before I left Reston, I decided to do my washing. Put all my clothes in the washer (26 minutes) then the dryer (60 minutes). I think that was a mistake letting it sit in the dryer for 60 minutes. I noticed that some of my T-shirts had become jumpers afterwards. And the only pair of jeans I brought with me makes me look like some music star from the wacko jacko era (think Cameo or Cool and the gang). I think I need to put the jeans in a stretcher of some sort otherwise I need to “frequently adjust it’s settings”
Left out Juan of Honduras from my previous post. I met him at the Greyhound Springfield bust station. He spoke a little English and we managed to communicate while waiting for the bus. He had a 10-year VISA to the states (2000 – 2010) and seems he’s been around for about 6 years. He said he’s fed up working and working and paying bills and rent and that he’s going back to Honduras next year. I think what he does must be somewhat manual as when he was trying to describe his job, he made moves as if he was driving a bike (possibly some sort of lawn/grass cutting). I found it strange that he could barely speak English, possibly he didn’t mix much and maybe his work didn’t require talking to English-speaking folks, but 6-years here and no English.

update …

Haven’t written anything in a while. Ok, the next couple of posts will definitely not be in chronological order – think out-of-order execution (that’s me pretending to understand computer architecture). So what’s cooking? Got a US VISA this time – the interview went much smoother this time. (The first interview, being young and single apparently meant I was going to run away to America and never come back, so the lady graciously turned down my application.) The young white lady could even speak some Yoruba – asked the old woman interviewed before me how long she was going to stay in the US and when the woman appeared not to understand, she actually asked if it would be “Osu Meta” (three months). My colleagues at work felt she must have married a Nigerian – I don’t remember seeing any ring on her finger – and there are people that are just so interested in their work that they go the extra mile to do a better job. She was – how do you say it -Hot. But I’d be more interested in the “sister” in the cubicle at the other end of the hall – oops! scratch that and forget you read it 🙂 . So I am posting this from Charlotte, NC. Spent a week already in Reston, VA for the Oracle training. Two more weeks and I should be back in Nigeria. Took the Greyhound from Springfield, VA to Charlotte, NC. The whole journey took about 12 hours (we had a 2-hour stop at Richmond). The cab driver that took me from Reston to Springfield was a Yoruba man. Baba ibeji from Idanre in Ondo state. We of course chatted all the way (life, Nigeria, bills, etc). Used to be married but not any longer. Has kids and grandkids now. He’s been here since 74 (he came via the Bahamas with very little money). Went to school and graduated in 83 or so. Was working in corporate Nigeria (not corporate America) before deciding to move to the US. According to him, life is not easy here, yes there are opportunities. When you apply for a job, and they see your name and it’s unpronounceable, they just throw your application in the trash. He finally set his certificate aside, and started driving a cab. He wants to go back home as he’s had enough of just paying bills and rent. Life is not easy here. When we want to go home, we head to Wal-Mart, buy new clothes and shoes, and then they think we’ve got it made when we get to Nigeria. Collected my contact address.

Was going through “The Charlotte Observer” and came to the obituary section. Read everyone, old people, middle age, young, cancer battles lost, etc. I sometimes do this to remind myself (not that I ever forget) that sooner or later, it’s going to be my turn. I lift the following verbatim from the paper:

In Memoriam
In MEMORY OF Helen McLaughlin
Gaskey Templeton
June 3, 1921 – June 23, 2007
“I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other. Then someone at my side says: ‘There, she is gone!’ ‘Gone where?’ I ask.
Gone from my sight; that is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side, and she is just as able to bear her load of freight to her destined port. Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: ‘There, she is gone’, there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: ‘Here she comes!’ And that is dying.” Author Unknown
With thanks for the loving memories and for all that you did for us over the years.

We will miss you always. Phyllis, Ron, Mark, Donna, John-Morgan, and Joseph.

Oh Lord, as I lay me down to sleep, if perchance it’s my last, forgive me all my sins, and welcome me to heaven. Amen (Tunde Itayemi)