Summer 2008 • www.dansikimag.com • ISSN 1940-8803 your story. your lifestyle. your magazine. [sample] • First Nigerian in Antarctica? • How a Septuagenarian was Born • The Future of Literature in Africa • Dansiki Photography Album contents quarterly www.dansikimag.com your story. your lifestyle. your magazine. Summer 2008 • Volume 1 • Issue 1 Antarctica Marathon p.6 photo album: weddings & parties p.14 The Future of Literature in Africa p.58 dansiki favorites p.66 How a Septuagenarian Was Born... p.76 feature story • antarctica marathon Antarctica Marathon First Nigerian to Run 26.2 Miles on the White Continent…? by Femi Sonuga (This is a combination of my daily journal and photographs, photographs of Tom Hage and other runners, and some of the daily program summary prepared and distributed to us by Marine Expeditions of Canada.) My Chicago-bound plane left San Francisco at about midnight and I immediately started missing my girlfriend, Kip. It later occurred to me that this journey is different. The nearest I have ever been to the Southern Hemisphere is about 8 degrees north of the Equator—Lagos, Nigeria. Besides, this is the first time I have traveled to a new destination without being armed with recommended restaurants, hotels or tourist hangouts. However, I got some pretty good advice from a fellow runner, Shelley, who did this race in 1997. She said: “Femi....It’s an experience you’ll never forget. You’ll meet all sorts of people from all over the world. The great thing about that race is that you’re so blown away to be at the bottom of the world running, you lose track of the distance—at least that’s how it felt 3 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE to me.” I liked all of that, then she added, “.....no water tables or cheering spectators in this race, my friend! ....It was freezing with 50 mph winds ...undoubtedly tough.” Before I could ponder on my predicament any further, I fell asleep. It had been a hectic week of last minute preparations. After a quick stopover in cold Chicago, I landed in West Palm Beach on a hot, balmy day. I drove a rented car down to Miami International airport without a hitch. I checked in 4 hours before departure. Yes, 4 hours! (And this was pre-911 air travel.) This very early check-in was due to the warning from my travel agency, Marathon Tours: “…South American Airlines are notorious for overbooking, so be early.” After years of dreaming and months for training, I won’t be left behind in Miami. Five hours later, I and other fellow adventurers I met at the Aerolineas Argentina Airline counter, were on our way to Buenos Aires, Argentina. I wondered if the myth of “anti-clockwise water drain” in the southern hemisphere is true. Thus, after crossing the equator, I checked the airplane sink, expecting to see the water drain anti-clockwise…WHOOSH…the water just got sucked straight down. Hmm, I was amused; maybe flying at about the speed of sound at 35,000ft above sea level is a factor here. I will try again at a lower altitude and a lower loxodrome. We arrived safely in the sprawling megalopolis of Buenos Aries early Saturday morning. From the plane, the city seemed to go on forever, as far as the eye can see. We got bused to our surprisingly elegant hotel—Intercontinental Hotel. After check-in, I met my roommate for the next couple of weeks, Ken Thompson. He is a businessman from Ohio. We clicked right off. In late afternoon, about 40–50 of us went for a rainy, muddy, muggy run. That evening, we were treated to a cocktail reception and welcome banquet, where I mingled with other crazy kindred spirits. There were about 160 people, mostly runners, from Israel, Italy, Germany, Spain, Argentina, Canada, New Zealand, Australia, Sweden, Denmark, Scotland, Vietnam, South Africa, England, 4 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE Belgium, India, Senegal, Russia, Bermuda and USA. I represented Nigeria. We were briefed about our departures and logistics. The 120 people on the bigger and slower Russian ship—Akademik Ioffe—had to leave for Ushuaia early Sunday morning. The 42 of us on the smaller, faster vessel—Akademik Shuleykin—got to stay in Buenos Aries for another day. On Sunday, we explored the suburban neighborhoods—each with its own distinct character. We visited the “slummy” neighborhood of La Boca—home of the Tango. There is an alley—El Caminito— with corrugated metal buildings painted in bright colors. The array of vivid colored buildings in pinks, blues, yellows and greens made a striking contrast against the sky. Just like the Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco, a tourist trap. I bought a tango painting. The Flea market was a blast! There were sidewalk “musicals”, all kinds of ware for sale, Tango performances, paintings and painters, lilting jazz; even free Tango lessons were offered. I explored the “aristocrats’ hangout” of Distrito de Recoleta in El Barrio Norte. I met a warm, friendly and soccer-crazed couple. We discussed the history of World Cup soccer, and there was an immediate connection. It is amazing how two cultures with soccer in the forefront can easily come together. I had a steak sandwich, potato salad and a pilsner of beer that set me back twenty bucks! I took an aggressive and fast cab ride to the hotel. “Surviving driving down here is to give everyone else on the road priority—even in your lane!” We zipped past the Casa Rosada, Theatro Colon, Palermo and El Centro. The architecture was quite diverse —rococo and baroque, Spanish Colonial, Italian detailing, French Classicism and a hint of Greek and Romanesque architectural influences. I fell in love with Buenos Aires and Portenos. With its European flair—Paris-like cafes, brassieres, wide boulevards, towering Obelisk—and well attired Portenos (residents of Buenos Aires) that are not afraid to show and share their Latin heat, Buenos Aires is definitely my kind of city. What a colorful, vibrant town with panache! Early Monday morning, we departed for Ushuaia, Tierra del Fuego, the world’s Tomi Aderemi & Lanre Ajayi Ile-Ife, Nigeria 5 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE Ama Pecku & Sylvanus Vortia Baltimore, Maryland Ola Oyewopo & Kehinde Ali Chicago, Illinois Yetunde Osikomaiya & Yinka Olawale Oakland, California Lara Sonuga & Tunde Akintokun Ibadan, Nigeria London, England 9 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE Kenny Aderibigbe 10 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE Atlanta, Georgia feature story • The Future of Literature in Africa The Future of Literature in Africa Igún’s Burden (Igún, in Yorubaland, is the name we call the Vulture. And the story of the writer, in today’s Africa, has become very similar, in my opinion, to that of the Vulture in one of our folktales.) by Femi Osofisan A-a-a-lo o! A-a-a-lo o! Ni igba kan lai lai… Once upon a time, long ago, the Earth was undergoing one of its most difficult moments. The problem, this time, was drought, a prolonged drought that lasted several months. The heat had eaten everything up, and everywhere, the air was dry, acrid, and swirling with dust. All the animals, all the human beings, suffered badly from thirst and sunburn. The ponds and streams, the mighty rivers as well as the secret waterholes, all had dried up, and where the water used to be, only the cracked beds of mud showed in the sun like broken ribs. Many were dying; the trees and grasses were withering; the air burned the skin; the sands scorched the feet. But still the sun shone down relentlessly, and the rain refused to fall. At last, a meeting was summoned, of the whole community. Everyone was present, men and women and children, animals and birds. They met to discuss the situation, and were informed, after due consultations with the babalawos present, that the cause of the unusual drought was a quarrel between the Sky God and his former hunting partner, the Earth God. 11 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE So a decision was taken. They would send a sacrifice to the Sky God up there in heaven and beg him to forgive whatever sins his friend might have committed, and urge him to release the rain. The priests knew how to prepare the sacrifice. A couple of snails, a lamb’s head, some palm oil and wine, and a pot of fire. All these necessary items were quickly assembled, and put in a big basket. Then the next problem came up. Who would carry the basket to heaven? Surely, it could only be a creature with the knowledge and capability of flying? But, to everyone’s surprise, not one of the birds would agree to go on the errand. Each had a pressing excuse; none could be compelled to go. Yet the drought burned harder still, and more continued to die. The community tried all the prayers it could muster, all its remonstrations, but the birds would not budge. The frightening question in their minds, but which they could not voice out, was—Suppose the messenger did not return from such a dangerous journey? Then suddenly, just as everybody was about to give up in despair, they heard the Vulture speak up. “I will go,” he said. The people cheered lustily. And then, before he could change his mind, they quickly loaded the sacrifice on his head and bade him farewell, wishing him the best of luck. But if they had asked, he would have told them simply that it was because he had witnessed the quarrel between the Sky and the Earth Gods, and felt that he would be in a good position to mediate, and bring them together again. As soon as the appropriate ceremonies were concluded, Igún carried the sacrifice with his powerful legs, spread his wings, and lifted up. A terrible pain shot through his entire body as the flames of the fire burned his head and his neck, but he ignored it, and rose superbly into the air. Soon he was far up there, just a tiny spot in the clouds. And then even that spot was gone. The community cheered in collective relief and dispersed. Then the waiting game began. One week, another week, and then a third! Still the people waited, and nothing changed. Could Igún have missed his way? Or had he been crushed on the way? Their hearts filled with apprehension and foreboding. Then—one day, on the first morning of dansiki favorites brides the last page • quotes, facts, & tidbits On this page, anything goes...share your thoughts, life lessons, quotable quotes, poems, notable numbers, the imponderables, and other things that make you want to scream or go ...hmmm. We would even pay you for your submission, if used. Enjoy. THINGS THAT MAKE YOU GO…Ahaa! In the 1500s, most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence, the custom today of carrying a bouquet when getting married. READER POLL TRIVIA The Nigerian city of Kano in 1851 produced an estimated 10 million pairs of sandals and 5 million hides for export. The Songhai Empire of 16th century West Africa had a government position called Minister for Etiquette and Protocol. HMMMM... What age were you when you got married? Email your response to [email protected] QUOTABLES The beauty of being an African (-American) in America is that you never melt into the ‘melting pot’ of America…you and everyone else always know where you came from. — Unknown Do fish sleep NUMBERS 24 Carat Gold means pure 24 Zeros in a septillion 24 Ribs in the human body 24 Hours in a day 24 Atomic number of Chromium 24 Hours it takes the Earth to travel 24,000 miles 14 • SUMMER 2008 SAMPLE ? the detail matters That was just a preview. To see more, subscribe to online at www.dansikimag.com/subscribe.html