Soldier Ants Again!!!!

Yep, now they're moving their colony!

We saw them a few days ago, a whole highway of them on a dry riverbed on our property. Here are the pictures:

Totally unrelated, but I don't think I'll ever get them in a pose like this again. These are our three goats: Mohawk, Right Ear, and Other Goat.

 Another picture of them, close up.

 This is one trail through our yard. I don't think this part is exactly our land, but it's right next to us so we explore in it.

 Here's the star of the show: the soldier ants moving their colony. You see that reddish path that is indented in the dirt? Yes, that's them. If you were there in the flesh, you would see hundreds of little "nurse ants" carrying larvae, walking on the backs of soldier ants.

That red mass right there are hundreds of 'em all in one place.

 

This is just one small example of their monstrous swarms. We were on a bridge over the riverbed, so we were pretty much safe from being torn apart. Alive.

On that happy note, Signing off,

The Traveler

Oops Again!

Well, I just found out that I never really published a post called 100th post. Eh heh heh...heh...

Oops is my hundreth post, but before that I had written a post in blogger called 100th post and it was published and everything. Now it's gone. What's wrong with you, Multilinks Telkom?

Signing off,
The Confused Traveler

Oops!

Wow, I am really embarrased, *look down uncomfortably, shuffle shoes.* The post labeled, 100th post, was not my 100th post. It was my 99th. Yeeah...um...well, anyway, this is the real hundreth post, and I ain't writing another little speech about how long I've been doing this and everything. Soooo...let's put that little incident past us, shall we? :) Please? :) :) :)

But, lemme talk about my newest discovery; large rodents are delicious. Don't say eew yet, 'cause I don't mean big rats: I mean woodcutters. They look almost like capybaras, except I think they're smaller and lighter. And, I bet (though I haven't tried it), they are tastier. We had some a few months ago. We had found this hunter, who gave us some. We payed him, though, and ate the leg. It was a little tough, and reminds me slightly of bat. It's pretty good. My Mom wouldn't come within five miles of it. She looked at it, and quickly walked away. I think even just seeing it threw her off. But my Dad, he'll eat anything. Here are the list of things he has eaten:

1. Dog (there's a dish with dog in it here. Please, don't start rallies against it; it's traditional, just like some European countries that eat cat brain. So shut up.)

2. Cat

3. Snake

4. Alligator

5. Horse (I told you, he's tried everything.)

6. Termites (fried and seasoned reasonably, it's pretty good. Okay more then pretty good, it's delicious!)

7. Goat Head Soup (Or Ise-Ewu here, I actually had a post about it.)

8. The Tongue of Different Animals (It's really tough. I'm not very fond of tongues.)

9. (I would advise queasy people to really stop reading right now, unless they want to throw up.) Cooked rat. (My Mom didn't know what it was until she ate it. lol. This was before I was born. Apparently, she liked it. Before she knew what it was!)

10. Spaghetti. With Meatballs.

11. Mashed Butterfly!

Except for number 10, which was just random, all of these things are totally gross to the Western world, as you can tell. Except for some dishes. And these are only the stuff he has told me he has eaten. I've eaten a few of these things, but we're also planning on slaughtering one of our chickens very soon: Bar-Jesus Chicken. A character from a play that I was in here. He used to be the leader of the pack, strutting around proudly and cock-a-doodle-doing in every chickens face, until Black-and-White Chicken dethroned him. Apparently, it was an epic battle for them, because when Bar-Jesus Chicken came away, one of his eyes was swollen and he seemed deflated of all of his pompous bouyancy. Too bad! At least we'll get to eat him. In Nigeria, it's not strange for people to slaughter the animals that live in their yards, like after a while, we'll eat the goats, and some of the chickens, but not enough to have no one to steal eggs from. Speaking of that, the eggs from the hens are phenominal. Before you start saying that we are animal abusers (which we're not), let me explain that the eggs that hens lay aren't always full of chicks. You see, hens can't help but have eggs constantly, and they don't want every batch. So, sometimes, they just leave the eggs there after they're born. The chicks never grow, and the eggs stay just regular eggs. So, just say what you know. There is a saying here: he knows not, and knows not that he knows not, is a fool. Think about what I wrote, and figure out the meaning. You can do it!

Signing off,
The Traveler

Desert Tropics

The title tells you everything about what the climate of Nigeria is like at certain times of the year. Dry Season: desert. Wet Season: tropical. Here is why:

We're getting into the Dry Season, as you should know by now (if you aren't just now reading this blog, or was sent to here by Pingy or Alphainventions), and it's a crazy clash of temperature! In the night, it becomes bone chilling cold. I've had to use a thick sleeping bag to cover myself these days when I go to sleep. And my family lives on the equator! A little unbeleivable, right? In the daytime, though, you try to wear the least heat-holding clothing as possible, because it gets HOT, man. I mean like put an egg on the pavement and it'll cook kinda hot. It is the norm to be covered in sweat by about 11:00 in the morning. And then, you're hair and skin and everything around you will get dry and dusty 24/7. Day and night. Why is this? Well, imagine Dry Season as the exact opposite of Winter. Instead of it becoming really cold, it gets really hot. Clouds in the sky all the time, not a cloud in sight. What else does that description sound like? Good class, a desert. It's like Nigeria gets transformed into the Sahara for a certain time in the year. The reason why it gets cold at night and hot in the day is because there are no clouds to trap the heat. So, unlike in rainy season when it's almost always rainy and overcast, there's not a cloud in the sky right now. Seriously, right now. I'm looking out the window and it's just blue. I don't know why that exactly is, but I do know that the cloudless sky lets the heat escape when it is night and the sun isn't warming our side of the planet. When it becomes daytime, though, there are no clouds to block the sun, therefore making the place a furnace. A dry, dusty, furnace. Oh yeah, I almost forgot...it's dusty because dust from the Sahara blows in from the north. So we get a layer of red dust on everything. And since no rain...well, as you can tell, it can get pretty red around here.

Then, there's Rainy Season. Rainy Season is a whole different matter. Imagine Rainy Season like Spring, except with a lot more rain, and the rain much, MUCH more violent. When I mean violent, it sounds like a hundred machine guns are shooting simultaneously at a giant echoey gong. And that's just the rain. When the thunder comes....you'd think that you're in Hurricane Racket. If you go outside, it really looks like a hurricane, with palm trees bending over and the whole world splitting apart. It's awesome! And pretty frightening at some times, but you can live through those. Rainy Season is what you'd imagine those pretty islands on tourism brochures to look like: warm sun, nice breezes, and plenty of fruit. Plenty of sweet, plump, fruit. And the rain washes away all of the dust from Dry Season. And then when Dry Season comes again, it drys up all the gross mud the Rainy Season makes. They're pretty much in perfect harmony.

Signing off,
The Traveler

Signing off again because he forgot to on his previous post and he's trying to make up for it,
The Traveler

Kings and Queens

My parents are forcing me to write this post.

It's more of an educational school project kind of thing than my regular ones. It's about the Kings and Queens of Nigeria. Yeah, there are full-fledged monarchs here like the Queen of England. And we've visited a few of them. You see, we've gone to a lot of their houses and talked about different things. I don't really understand how, (I'm guessing that there are many different groups, that's why), but there are many, many different monarchs here. Like we met one King yesterday, but we met a Queen a few weeks ago. She was a little crazy. Religion had gotten to her head, and she has this mission of hers to destroy all of her native culture's art and...well...culture. Sad, right? That's what I think too. She thinks that all of these beautiful art pieces and everything are works of the Devil, and that they should be destroyed. That's her culture that she's trying to destroy! And a whole lot of smart people have said time and again that without knowing who you are or where you come from, you are completely, totally lost. Maybe she's never read their qoutes. But, seriously, there are many people like her all over Nigeria, and we've met a few. You can believe in a religion, without destroying somebody else's! Anyway, I was talking about Kings and Queens. Well, most houses that belong to them look like this: the waiting room, with a throne for the King or Queen to sit on (it's usually the King who sits on it), and a whole bunch of potraits around the room of themselves, and other relatives, or presents given by different people. A lot of the potraits say, 'his majesty the king' or 'her majesty the queen' on them, and the date of the time the picture was taken under. Then, the King would sit down on the throne and we would talk. And talk. And I would have nothing to do. Other than having really big cars and traveling to the UK and back every five seconds, Kings and Queens don't really order people around anymore. They definitely have money, but they don't really have that much power over the people. There is this one king who is really special: The Ooni. I don't know if that is the correct way to say it, but anyway, the Ooni is descended directly to the very first people of Ife, our town. And the very first people lived thousands of years ago! Can you belive that? I'm not kidding! I bet, that if he did a DNA scan, it'd be really true. He and his spouse are really well off. Most of the time, they're in England, but they do come to Nigeria. I think he's in his 80s, so he's been around for a long time. He's also like a millionaire. In dollars, if I remember right.

Pink Mega Grapefruit

About a week ago, my Dad and I went to this old lumber mill that isn't in use anymore. Well, we're thinking of buying it so then we can make an automotive repair shop. It was pretty nice; it wasn't like completely broken down or anything, but the machinery looked extremely rusty. Supposedly, most of it is still operational. But, here comes the cons: it's not connected to the main grid. I think. If I heard right. There's no electricity coming to it, henceforth, how do we operate the computers and lifts and the things like that? How about the office, what about the lights? Well, they talked and talked and talked and talked. They is my father and the guy who owns it. I got bit by a couple of soldier ants, waiting. Then he took us inside his office, and there was this large green melon. I was hungry, and was imagining all the different ways I could eat it. Juicy, delicious. Yep, I was hungry. The outside was very smooth, with very tiny dark green spots over the light green outside. The owner of the place said that they were very tasty, and when put into a juice they were even better. He actually gave that one to us as a gift, and told us that he had a whole tree of them. My dad knew what they were; he used to eat them when he lived here. I asked him what it looked like inside, and he said that it was pink! That it was, actually, a gigantic pink-insides grapefruit! He said that it tastes like a grapefruit, just a little sweeter, and that it was a grapefruit, just much bigger. I was very surprised, so after we plucked several of them off the tree, and we went back to the car to go back home, I kept asking again and again if it really was true. Can they really be huge grapefruits? It sounds impossible! But, after a while I guess I tired him out, so he said I would see what it looked and tasted like when we got back home. When we did get back to the house, we cut it in half with a knife and saw that it really was pink! It had a very thick skin, almost half an inch thick, and the fruit itself, the skin, was a little hard and would pop inside your mouth with sweet juice. After a while, (I don’t think I was eating it right), my tongue started to feel all burnish and acidic, so I stopped eating it. But while it didn’t burn my mouth, it was fantastic!

Signing off,

The Traveler

One-Rock Mountains

Have you ever seen a mountain made out of one giant rock?


Well, we just saw a few yesterday. Nigeria is amazing; here, the mountains are gigantic rocks! Their huge, sometimes towering over cities. You can even see houses, farms, and churches on some. And I’m not lying. If I remember right, the mountain over Old Buka is just one big rock. That’s just one example of them. They are everywhere. We took a two hour drive to Akure in Ondo State. And on the way, we saw some of the best formations yet. Some were as large as regular mountains; the one-rock mounds are usually more rounded and shorter than the run-of-the-mill mountain. You could see rows of crops on some, and trees covered them. Golden weeds covered it like a blanket, with it's rocky ground breaking out here and there. There was this one mountain, with bright crimson trees and rocks that looked to clean and perfect, dotting it's giant parent. There were some other trees with yellow leaves, bright white trunks sticking out of the browns and greens. It reminded me of fall, the whole landscape. Sometimes we'd drive around the base of one. There was this one point, where you would look at the edge of the horizon, and see huge mounds, tinted blue by the atmosphere. There were these three huge clusters of them; it looked as if a giant slipped, and their foot ripped and kicked up the ground. Other than that, we stayed there for about five hours at an old friend's house, watching The Simpsons. Other than the stuff I already mentioned, I won't bother you with the details, or you might fall asleep.

Signing off,
The Traveler