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Leaving Oporoza with the impact of our week-long visit beginning to take effect.Today, second Peace Pole in the morning after a hot sweat throughout the night. Peace Pole panels for Mandagho, and then breakfast and photos, before more WAWA (West Africa Wins Again) with tardy boat drivers and their resistance to the idea of going to an Itsekiri village.

The Waning Days and Thoughts

Camron Karsten
2006-02-18 20:09:42

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heard their stories, witnessed the sites. Only strangers, strangers in a strange land. We were foreigners. Always would be. Just like that, we swabbed these waters of complexity in degradation and coloration.

On our way back, the waters of the Creeks eventually went shallow. Low tide was met, grounded as the two 75-hp Yamahas struck bottom at full throttle. It took three jolts, three sudden strikes upon the shallows--a log, rock, or of some sort--before the captain's "No Problem" was cut and through a narrow, jungle swamp we paddled Nigeria's primitive Venice in old, rickety gondolas. It
was a scene from Apocalypse Now, in search of Kurtz's Warri-town, showers, and a cold Star.

From shallows, into town, the Navy dock was the most polluted site of them all; wretched. Oil and gas swept in a flow of molten crude as four petroleum rigs emptied their precious cargo into a rusted barge. Bolts loose, teeth stripped, crude and rainbow liquids weaving in whirlpools between metal and fiberglass hulls.

We loaded on our Delta Tours bus with eyes of excitement. The docks, the Creeks, the villages and people--all left behind. Yet we had our experience, our memories, and the hearts we opened with our Nigerian brothers and sisters.

And now at the Wellington, stars in the eyes of staff of this plush, marble-clad estate.

"I saw you. This morning, yesterday, the day before--you were on Delta TV. It was all of you!"

"The library was beautiful!"

"I saw you dancing African!"

The staff and security guards were grateful, each giddy like a child absent from class. God Bless you, a woman guard told me. God Bless you.

Our status after being on television spread to each of our ears. Oporoza, Mandagho and the distant riverine felt like a dream with the soap, the A/C, and the Nigerian-style buffet. At the Wellington we ate, we laughed--nostrils flaring with deep appreciative breaths--and we cried. With our waning moments together, we reflected on village life and the project now complete. But we understood, within us and without us, it was only the beginning.