Although there are people that work out in Nigeria, exercising isn’t nearly as common here as it is in America. I have been keeping a regular running schedule as a way to help use up the gratuitous amounts of palm oil and yams I have been consuming. Every time I go for a run, at least once during my run a group of little kids starts chasing me singing the ever popular jingle, “Òyìnbó pepè, chúgúchúgú pepè,” which means “White person sweet as a pepper, looks like a pepper” (referring to the fact that white people get red in the sun). Other times, people stop in cars and yell, or stop me when they are walking past to ask various questions like, “Oyinbo, what are you running from? Where are you going? Where is the fire? Let me pick you!” Similarly, those who choose to say nothing as I pass usually glare or look at me with a half-frown on their face to display their sheer inability to understand why I am running. Others will yell, “Oyinbo! Well done oo!” Normally I turn my headphones up loud enough to ignore these types of distractions. Therefore, early Sunday morning on my usual jog I didn’t think twice as I was approaching a very old hunchbacked man from behind. I was crossing a bridge over a dam in a quiet part of campus not highly frequented by pedestrians. As I was zoning out enjoying the jams on my ipod, the man suddenly turned around with a wicked grimace on his face. When I was about six feet behind him, he drew a machete from his left gbada (a long robe men wear) pocket and held it in the air ready to strike! I quickly stopped, prostrated, and began to apologize profusely with whatever Yoruba words I could fit in between gasps. Once he realized I wasn’t the thug he though I was based on my heavy breathing and pounding footsteps, he quickly dropped the two-foot long blade and also apologized. His reaction certainly did nothing to calm my heavy breathing, but after a few minutes of thinking about the situation after I continued to run, I burst out laughing. Although I felt bad for scaring the crap out of the poor old man, I found it hilarious that someone casually exercising was so strange to the old man that his first inclination was to draw his machete in defense of a possible oncoming thug-at 10AM on a Sunday morning. Nigeria ooooooo!