First move, first story, first recording

I sat.

My firt "official" interview with my grandfather. A conscious interview out of many informal interviews, conversations, snippets of sentences about my grandfather's life in Nigeria. Listened to throughout my childhood.

I grew up with my grandfather's story of how he travelled from Lebanon to Nigeria by boat. As a little girl who asked countless and countless of questions to whomever would give me answers, this one story would always come up as lips would impart words to sparkling, curious wide eyes and perked up ears. Chin settled on hands.

My little head would extend a little whenever I needed to ask a clarifying question. Or just blurt out the often used words that enveloped my character: "really?!".... "no way!" Appropriate facial expression followed.

Now 29, I sat with a recorder in my hand -- an investment that I realized could be time-consuming without the ability to automatically transcribe the oral conversation to digital --- acutely aware of how formal it feels to "prepare" for a story. Ignoring awareness, I start, I listen and I concentrate as my jeddo begins his story about the journey he took to Africa.