Wschroeder at 05:52, 9 January 2008

2008-01-09T05:52:06Z

←Older revision		Revision as of 05:52, 9 January 2008
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	somewhat right wing family in what we would now be described Lake Wobegon		somewhat right wing family in what we would now be described Lake Wobegon
	country. Someone telling me they had been on a civil rights march in the		country. Someone telling me they had been on a civil rights march in the
-	Deep South may as well have said they ~~have just~~ gone for a walk on the moon.	+	Deep South may as well have said they had gone for a walk on the moon.

	I remember walking across the UCLA campus on the day after Halloween.		I remember walking across the UCLA campus on the day after Halloween.

Wschroeder at 05:40, 9 January 2008

2008-01-09T05:40:00Z

←Older revision		Revision as of 05:40, 9 January 2008
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	One man described being on a civil rights march in Alabama. I came from a		One man described being on a civil rights march in Alabama. I came from a
-	somewhat right wing family in what we would now be described Lake ~~Woebegone~~	+	somewhat right wing family in what we would now be described Lake Wobegon
	country. Someone telling me they had been on a civil rights march in the		country. Someone telling me they had been on a civil rights march in the
	Deep South may as well have said they have just gone for a walk on the moon.		Deep South may as well have said they have just gone for a walk on the moon.

Wschroeder at 05:18, 9 January 2008

2008-01-09T05:18:23Z

←Older revision		Revision as of 05:18, 9 January 2008
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-	Bill Schroeder, Nigeria XIII LAX to Enugu - Slices of Memory with Spaces	+	Bill Schroeder, Nigeria XIII: LAX to Enugu - Slices of Memory with Spaces
	Between		Between

Wschroeder at 05:06, 9 January 2008

2008-01-09T05:06:38Z

New page

Bill Schroeder, Nigeria XIII LAX to Enugu - Slices of Memory with Spaces
Between

On the day we were supposed to arrive at our training site somehow a number
of us found each other at the Los Angeles airport. One of us suggested all
the suitcases to go in one taxi and the people in another. The excited
conversation is a vivid memory. The adventure was about to begin.

The Dracker Motel near the UCLA campus was filled by our group and a group
training for Ethopia. 120 young people living in one complex were preparing
to take the world by storm.

Women and men were assigned separate rooms. Bureaucracy being what it is
this seemed a significant achievement. Once divided by sexes we were
assigned rooms in alphabetical order. At the reception desk I asked for
mail for, "Scanella, Schnapper, Schmidt and Schroeder." I loved it.

I have a memory of a number of us hanging around the Dracker swimming pool.

We walked from the Dracker to the Myra Hershey Hall for meals. I observed
people hosing leaves off their sidewalk. I remember being somewhat
surprised that people in a desert would be so extravagent with water.

Classes at UCLA: I remember some of the Igbo language classes; I can't
remember one of the others.

We drank coffee. We talked. Sometimes we went to Will Wright's for ice
cream. Another ice cream store nearby had more flavours but wasn't as
pretty.

We fell in love.

One man described being on a civil rights march in Alabama. I came from a
somewhat right wing family in what we would now be described Lake Woebegone
country. Someone telling me they had been on a civil rights march in the
Deep South may as well have said they have just gone for a walk on the moon.

I remember walking across the UCLA campus on the day after Halloween.
Overnight someone had entered a building with an observatory, got on the
roof and painted a brilliant orange and black pumpkin on the metal
hemisphere covering the telescope. I appreciated both the humour and the
excellence of the painting.

When we gathered at J.F.K. airport for the flight to Lagos it was snowing.
Our departure was delayed. When we did take off we were told the snow
caused the plane to leave with a light fuel load so we would be landing at
Bermuda to take on additional fuel. Bermuda -- night, warm, humid,
pleasant. I had never been south of New York before. I wondered if this is
what the Bahamas felt like.

Landing in Dakar: An airport guard spoke French - naturally. Everyone
seemed to be tearing around looking for Marie-France who could tell us what
he was asking or we wanting. Was there a stop between Dakar and Lagos? - I
have a feeling there was but I can't recall.

We had been told some of our luggage would arrive after we arrived. When we
got off the plane and were met by the Director of the Peace Corps in Nigeria
that luggage was on the runway next to the plane.

From the airport to our Lagos motel we rode in the back of a large van.
Night. No street lights. Everywhere there were little stands with small
lamps. We went around the roundabouts "the wrong way". We just laughed.
This was crazy. And fun. The energy level is one of my sharpest memories.

After some training in Lagos We took a bus from Lagos to Enugu. Somewhere
in the Midwest there was a "rest stop". "Girls use the bushes on the left,
boys the bushes on the right."

I remember the huge queue to get on the ferry across the Niger. Some
lorries had been waiting for days. Our bus got on immediately. Think.

Enugu: We must have been in the government rest house. At dinner the male
waiters with complexions as black as midnight wore immaculate white coats.
The meal was delicious. Then or later I have a memory of meeting Warren
Zeigler, Director of the PC in the East.

I remember waiting in the PCV rest house in Enugu waiting for the Headmaster
who would drive me to the school near Owerri. Indeed, the adventure was
about to begin. Why did the Peace Corps stop their rest houses?

Training at UCLA - slices of memory - Revision history

Wschroeder at 05:52, 9 January 2008

Wschroeder at 05:40, 9 January 2008

Wschroeder at 05:18, 9 January 2008

Wschroeder at 05:06, 9 January 2008