December, 2011: Lagos, Nigeria Week 3

In my second week in Nigeria, I fell through a hole in the floor.
On the third, I fell sick.

I believe I got sick during the that struggle with the Nigeria railway police who was trying to snatch away my camera. Trust me, it is really hard work fighting a corrupted cop bound on parting you with your money. And as I was really scare what kind of trouble I was getting myselg into fighting the 'wrong' arms of the law, I was breaking up in cold sweat then. Imagine then, if an 'evil wind' would have blow on me, I would have gotten sick from it. Of course, that's a very traditional-Chinese-medicine way of looking at things.

The Indian engineer working with me had another theory of his own. He believed I got sick because of the food I was taking at the workplace canteen, Nigerian food to be specific.
The breakfast at the hotel was OK, since they are mostly western dishes. The head chef was a Angmoh and most of the guests are Angmo anyway (businessmen who moved on come weekends, and fat retirees and hugh oilrig workers, who stays longer). Mixed into the sausages, donuts and cereals are the fried banana, thick slices of steamed yam, and fish flakes in mildly-spicy palm oil.
Actually, I don't have much problem with the Nigerian food at the canteen, but everyone else think they are not for me. I just think every dishes have a blackish look; you can't tell the meat dish from the vegetable ones. Obviously, unlike the emphasis placed on the 色香味 trinity in Chinese cuisine, the Afican don't put that much emphasis on color. Other than that, most of the dishes tasted quite similar to the 'economy curry rice' or Nasi Padang in Singapore.

But the Indian engineers stay away from it, preferring to pack their own Naan and curry.

The Chinese engineers strongly advice me to ask for food delivery from their company canteen. And the canteen does come up with good food. The Chinese engineer's take was this: "the working environment in Africa is already not so great, if the food were lousy, all the workers would have rebel. 早造反了！！"
Even the Africans advise against taking their local food, not less the canteen helpers themselves. Out of about ten dishes on offer at the stall, eight of the dishes I pick will meet with their disapproval. "No, this one you will not like!" What are these then. Cow they said. It sounds all too safe for me to try, but she just will not give way, refusing to serve me the dish. I point to a soup dish, no! I point to that deep green spinach-like dish, no! To them, it seems only rice, chicken (meat and gizzard) and fruit juice is the only thing good for me.

Once, when my selection was rejected with a curt "This one African food, we wouldn't like", one of the employee within earshot angrily retorted: "What's wrong with African food??!! Let him try!!"
Of course, a little flu and fever shouldn't be too much of a bother. But T.I.A, this is Africa!! I was supposed to have arrived having taken a 10-days course of Malaria pills, but I have not. The difference between a flu and Malaria is, Malaria can kill. And worst, in the early stage, they both have similar symptom. So, there I was, having a fever that comes and go, and I was also breaking out in cold sweat at night.

I did not remember getting bitten by any mosquitoes, so wanted to sleep it off, but the Chinese engineer recommended a visit to his company clinic. So, I ended up in the clinic with a Chinese lady doctor attending to me. On her desk was a 12 inch bald mannequinn with acupuncture meridian points, a tiny red loin clothes hanging from his waist. I was given a mix of western and Chinese medicine, plus a box of Malaria pills, in case the symptom confirm I was down with that.
And of course, the doctor advice me against taking any more of the African food.

So, on the weekend, I got into the business of nursing myself back. With the thick curtain drawn, and a tall bottle of water by my bedside, I went to sleep. Waking up for lunch, and only getting out of the darkened room for dinner at the hotel restaurant.

When the waiter found out I was sick, he recommended one of Nigeria most famous dish: pepper soup with chicken. "The pepper will make you sweat, and the illness will go away. It will make you strong" said the waiter.
He might have no concept of 风写入里, 辛温解表, 发散风寒, but his remedy sounds all too familiar.
So, it looks like things have come full circle, when all suspected that the Nigerian food had gotten me sick, it would taken Nigerian food to make me strong again.