Across, Underneath the Grocery (An Unhinged Number of Green Beans)

You Can't Always Get What You Want... But You Get What You Need (maybe)

Going shopping here has proven to be an adventure. Big picture getting groceries is easy and straightforward, but I would describe the process of finding a specific item as chaotic at best. At the risk of being melodramatic and diving fully into main-character syndrome, I often feel like a bumbling, sweaty YA protagonist who has interpreted their vague instructions all wrong but everything still manages to work out for them because the plot demands it. 

For example, we've really wanted a rug for the past two months. The floor is polished tile and when we sat on the long part of the sectional, the two pieces would slowly separate until you had to do an awkward half crunch, half roll to get out of the crack and push the couch back together. Plus Humboldt's toys and scratchers slide around on the tile and he couldn't get a good purchase to use them.

So I did a little research and found a few rug places. As I've mentioned before, places here often don't have websites or the information on Google isn't up to date. But I found a place called Nobel Rug and Carpet that had recent Google reviews and pictures of rugs on the results.  

When I got there, the outside of the building was advertising for hair extensions, so I started to get suspicious, but the building is directly off of the highway, so they could've just sold the ad space. I walked in the door and tell the people who looked up that I want to buy a rug and they looked at me like I was out of my damn mind. 

"Rug? You want a... rug? Here?" 

So apparently they didn't sell rugs there. I'm not sure if they ever did. I did clarify that I was looking for Nobel Rugs and Carpets, and they said that was them but they don't sell rugs and carpets anymore. I guess they closed that part of the business. Is it actually just a money laundering front? Who knows? 

One of the men did drop a pin in a map, and said I could find rugs there (and this is a direct quote) "Across, underneath the grocery." 

So I obviously didn't know what that meant but I figured I'd see if those directions made more sense when I got there and they... didn't. Not immediately at least. 

The pin on the map was to a grocery store I had never been to, and it was huge–5 stories! I took a look around and got a few items that I hadn't been able to find anywhere else and noted that they sold bulk soy sauce for $10 cheaper than I previously paid for it, so I will call that a win. I followed the signs that promised me wine but there was no wine to be found anywhere. 

Everywhere I went I asked people where I could buy a rug and just never got a clear answer. The store did sell prayer rugs. So after being directed up and down the stairs by various well-meaning but factually wrong people, I gave up and checked out. But as luck would have it, my cashier knew that the furniture division was across the street. 

And lo and behold, you had to go to the carpark UNDER the grocery and the furniture store was ACROSS the street. So that guy at the not-rug store was correct that what I was looking for was "across, underneath the grocery." Thanks, man.

There were rugs there. There weren't any I was interested in buying but that's okay.

So that day I went out for a rug and came back with groceries. Another time I went out looking for a rug and came back with Tennesse whiskey and Aperol (tough to find here! so a very exciting score.)

As an aside, this search for rugs took me to a lot of furniture stores and the decor style in most of these places seems like it would be at home in an early aughts McMansion. This made finding a rug tough because when I did find one, it was not the decor style we were going for. 

Kevin had very similar adventures looking for a new cord for our immersion blender which we somehow forgot to bring with us. One electronics store was actually just a field and the other was closed (or something else similarly unhelpful.) We even tried ordering one online, but it wasn't the right size. 

However, just this week, Kevin went out looking for an anniversary present for me (he was looking for a pair of leather sandals for the leather anni.) And of course, he completely struck out because that store also didn't exist but there happened to be an electronics store nearby which had the cord we needed! After that he tried to get a new bank card... no luck but it was right next to a RUG STORE! That had exactly two rugs that didn't look like an ornate Persian rug (those can be lovely but not right for the vibe we have) and we finally got a rug. 

And the last example of this scenario: it was my turn to go out and try to find sandals for Kevin, and I came back with powdered sugar and black beans. Black beans are particularly tough to find here, and I think if the school were going to start a prison-style black market, black beans would be our cigarettes. (There are a lot of vegetarians here I think.)

The other thing that makes shopping here more adventurous is that inventory can be really unreliable. Some products can be in stock for months and then be out of stock for months. For most items, there might be other brands available. But we were told several times that if there's something you really like/need, you should just clear the shelf. I've never bought literally all of something because that feels rude but I have stocked up heavily when I've seen particular products that don't have a workable substitute, like Kewpie Mayo (ifkyk!) 

And this is what led to me buying a truly unhinged number of canned green beans. For those of you who don't know, Humboldt was overweight because our first vet told us the wrong amount of food to feed him. This led to another vet telling us to cut his wet food with green beans because they are filling but low in calories so now every night, he eats a little bit of green beans mashed up with wet food. 

But we didn't realize that canned green beans aren't common here, so we only bought like 7 cans when we first arrived. That lasted a while but we ran out and we were supplementing with mixed veggie cans. But one day they actually had canned green beans, so I bought 23 cans (after already having discovered that black beans were also in stock, so there were a lot of cans.) I felt like (and was) the most ridiculous person in the whole world because explaining to the bemused cashier that the 23 cans of green beans were for my cat would not, in fact, help my case for normalcy.

The rotating stock, plus my unfamiliarity with brands means that I feel like I have to scour every inch of the shelves to make sure I don't miss a hidden gem and read a lot of ingredient labels to figure out what's going on with new-to-me products.

Adding me to looking odd in grocery stores, I took some pictures of one of the grocery stores if you're curious about what a standard store here is like. It's not the most gripping content but I did throw in a few bonus oddities for intrigue. 

If you're not sticking around for grocery store content, I don't blame you. If you are, please follow this link and play the remix no one asked for because this song plays every time I go to my most frequently visited grocery store.

I do not know what this is but I was intrigued. Do you know?? 

 Not a rug store

There is a man in this billboard. Working? Hanging Out? No safety equipment was visible!

Is My Tongue Still in My Mouth?

Nigerians will look me straight in the eye and tell me that one of the spiciest dishes I’ve ever attempted to eat isn’t spicy; it’s normal. The first time that happened, I thought this guy was messing with me. Then I thought maybe it was a macho thing. I told him several times that this catfish, while delicious, was incredibly spicy for me. He finally asked the woman who had hosted the party if the catfish was spicy, and she turned to me and asked “for her,” pointing at me. I nodded. And she confirmed that yes I would find that dish very spicy. 

He felt terrible. He wasn’t messing with me or anything. It really just was a normal dish for him, and he apologized profusely. I was not offended, but I was confused about how he didn’t think it was spicy at all. 

I didn’t think much of it except to laugh when I told Kevin about it later. But then it happened again and again. People earnestly telling me I won’t find this dish spicy. I just don’t even ask anymore and assume it will be very hot. That scene in Ted Lasso where he’s eating Indian spicy food, that is me when I’m eating at a Nigerian restaurant.

The dish in question is a grilled catfish that they cover in this pepper sauce. (I've been trying to add a link here but it's not working so, https://www.thepretendchef.com/baked-catfish-point-and-kill/#google_vignette) If you follow that link you’ll notice it calls for 200g of scotch bonnet peppers which are 40 times hotter than jalapeños plus the same amount of cayenne. It tastes amazing, but I have to dig past the spiced skin so that I’m only eating the white flesh to have any hope. And even then, I can only take a few bites. That is a normal heat level for the Nigerian dishes I’ve had so far.

One of the best places to find local food is a bush bar. These are roughly what the street food scene around here is. I’m not sure if the local bush bar has an official name, but everyone at the school calls it the Rusty Shed (they named it after the description of the “bathroom” so I’ll let you imagine that.)

It’s the kind of place that has whatever they have for alcohol and food and you can take that or nothing. Which isn’t to say that there aren’t options. There might be 2-3 kinds of mostly identical-tasting lagers, wine that’s been open for who knows how long and a few spirits. They probably have gin, Jameson and maybe vodka. A few people, including Kevin, have learned the hard way that ordering vodka can occasionally go terribly wrong because they ordered a vodka tonic and were served chocolate vodka. 

Food-wise there is usually some kind of suya, which is West Africa’s meat-on-a-stick option. It could be goat, chicken, or beef from what I’ve seen. Again I don’t think you usually get to choose which one at a bush bar. I loved the goat suya we had and went in for seconds despite the heat. The French fries (“chips”) made from either yams or white potatoes that are also a staple really help cut the heat. Indomie is also typically available. Indomie is a brand of instant noodles but also the name of the dish. Instead of making it into soup like ramen, they drain the water, mix in peas and carrots and serve it with a plain omelet. It is simple but effective. 

The Rusty Shed

You get Hero and Heineken if you're lucky and Trophy and Star if you're not.

We have been going out to eat on Fridays and checking out different spots. We went to a Chinese restaurant, West Africa’s first craft brewery, Bature, and food trucks to name a few. And this is where I start to struggle with how to describe places. The local food and bush bars are easier because I don’t really have much to compare them to, but these other places I do. But I've been reflecting on fair or helpful that ultimately is. 

Bature Brewing

Kevin, gazing longing at the free samples he's about to receive.

This is actually from a tea shop I visited.

It’s not like I can’t tell you about them in a basic way: the veggie dumplings and ginger chicken were great at the Chinese place. The rice was not cooked in a rice cooker and was trash. The brewery was great compared to the other beer here but “meh” on a broader scale, and the food trucks were “normal.” It was like any other food truck place I’d been to. Pretty lights, little swings and cute arches where you’re meant to take photos to post on Instagram. The food trucks have a mixture of local food, fusion food, desserts, and booze/mocktails. 

So again I’m back to this concept of normal and what even is normal? Especially since I’m trying to tell you all about it. My impulse is to show all the ways this place is similar or relatable to what is “normal” for me and likely for you. And to a certain extent, I think that is useful.  In the Western zeitgeist, “Africa” is still some monolithic, mysterious, vaguely backward place that we know very little about except when something bad happens that gets a few minutes of airtime on the news. And the truth of a place rarely resembles the way it’s portrayed in the 24-hour news media.

But I really don’t want to try to only validate Abuja in my mind and in yours because of how it is like the West. If I do that, then any way it is different automatically becomes a fault when there’s not necessarily anything wrong with the difference. Abuja doesn’t need to be like San Francisco or Berlin to be worthwhile. There is more than one right way to do things. 

So this is the needle I’m trying to thread while talking about life here. I want to make it feel relatable because so rarely do we hear that narrative. But I also don’t want to only uplift or celebrate the parts of the place or culture that are Westernized or Western adjacent. 

While I’m writing, I’d love to hear how you think I’m doing at this task. I’m certainly not perfect and my biases will undoubtedly come through. In my last post, Michelle and I were talking and she was like “hey you described this thing as ‘weirdly modern’ and that’s not cool or the best way to say that” (I’m paraphrasing; she was more nuanced.) And I completely understood and appreciated the feedback. 

So now that I’ve gotten all meta on you and taken this to a place that I am really unsure of how to wrap up effectively, I’ll leave you there until the next time that inspiration strikes. 

Thanks for reading!

Just Honk!

 

Just as I was getting ready to sit down and figure out how to start this blog, Humboldt came up to me and demanded his mid-morning cuddles. I am luxuriating in the almost infinite time to do just that–cuddle Humboldt, bake, read, exercise, or really whatever strikes my fancy. 

I initially didn't think I would have a blog when we were on our way over here but I've understandably had enough people asking what life is like that I figured this was the easiest way to tell people. So this isn't meant to be a travel blog or anything more than just me talking about my life to friends and family in a way that may or may not be very organized. If you want to be my blog editor, let me know. :) Or if you just notice a typo you can message me.

My honest answer to what's my life like here is that it's pretty normal. It honestly feels similar to when we moved to Seattle in 2020, and I didn't have a job but without the pandemic trauma and existential crisis about what I was going to do with my life. 

Also similar to life in the US is that we are still in employer-provided housing. There have only been about 2.5 years of my life adult when I actually had to pay rent, and we're just continuing on this trend. The little to no rent is very nice but that means you also basically have to take what you are given and live in and amongst all your coworkers and that is generally really fun but can also go sour really quickly. There is even a housing committee here and just that term will send chills down the spine of anyone who worked for NatureBridge pre-pandemic.  

This is definitely the nicest employer-provided housing I've had. It's pretty up-to-date, furnished, and big. We have 3 bedrooms and 2.5 bathrooms. The furnishings are definitely sad, beige and the few decor items we do have do not match each other, but there is a craft fair at school next week and then Nigeria day a few weeks after that where I think we will be able to buy a lot of interesting art and decor. Whoever was picking out material for the headboard, chairs, and couch (it's all the same fabric) asked themselves what would a cat like to scratch the most and then bought that, so keeping Humboldt from scratching has been a truly Sisyphean task. But we have a wrap-around balcony... so life balances out. 

For the record, I loathe these curtains but this window faces the school so curtains that fully obscure are very necessary.

I haven't been able to get out and about in Abuja a ton until recently because we had a very limited amount of local money when we first arrived, and our international credit cards aren't reliable here. Credit cards do not really exist here and the only places that take them are the businesses around embassies and the school. So I had to conserve the cash they gave us for essentials to make sure we could buy groceries. 

Now that we've been paid into our local bank account, I can finally check out a few more places without worrying about not being able to afford it! 

My overall impression is that Abuja is a place that is still culturally defining itself. Abuja was created to be the capital in 1991, so it's still a young city, and even the people who've only been here 5 years talk about how much it's changed and grown in just that time. Most of what there is to do here is go out to eat and check out various malls and markets. There are a few museums that I'm excited to check out. Plus I'm sure there are hidden gems that haven't made it on the trip-advisor type sites. 

I've learned that even people who were born or have lived in Abuja most of their lives most often won't say they are "from" Abuja. They are from where their family and ancestors are from. I've enjoyed chatting with the Uber drivers here about their home state and learning about a few of the different regions. 

All of this isn't to say that everything here is the same; that is clearly not the case. One of the first differences you'd notice is the traffic. It seems that you can do basically whatever you want or need to while driving as long as you honk first. Do you want to drive on the wrong side of the road? Just honk. Going to cut across 5 lanes of traffic in 100 feet? Just honk. Passing someone? Honk. There's a herd of goats cutting across the major highway? You guessed it, honk! It's all fine. 

Things like getting a bank account and SIM card also take a lot longer, which is unsurprising, but parts of it are also more modern than the US. We had to apply for a National Identity Number (like a social security numbers but more useful/integrated into daily life) before we could get a bank account or even a phone number. We spent hours and hours on multiple days doing immigration and bank tasks. The woman helping us at the bank was incredibly salty about something and would just get up and leave for 5-10 minutes for no discernible reason in the middle of helping people. 

But then once we were actually ready to get a debit card, we walked up to the atm-style machine, entered our account number, scanned our thumbprint and were done in 2 minutes, rather than waiting days and days for a card to get mailed to us. 

With a similar juxtaposition, a lot of places don't have websites or don't have very useful websites. But you can just text them on Whatsapp or Instagram, and they'll get back to you immediately. You can actually order from a lot of places via text on Whatsapp. You tell them what you want and they text you a receipt which you can use to transfer from your bank account directly into their account (It's even easier than Venmo or Zelle.) Then you just send them a photo of the receipt, and they'll dispatch a driver to deliver it to you same day. So take that amazon. 

That's all for now. If you're reading this, I miss you! Call me.