Oh Togo

Journal entry from end of November

I woke up this morning chilled by the brisk Harmatan winds, so much so that it prompted me to dig into the suitcase I had stored away under my cot of the long sleeve shirts and sweaters that I brought and have yet to find a use for since the heat has been unbearable. The best part of pulling out the sweater to throw over my head in the early hours of the morning wasn’t that it was actually cool enough to wear it; it was the feeling that rushed through my body when I got a whiff of the clean fresh scent of my home back in Oregon. I can’t quite describe the rush of feeling I got, but it brought an immediate sense of comfort in a place where I have yet to find comfortable. I only allowed myself ten minutes in the sweater for the fear I would induce homesickness. Alas, I packed away the sweater rolled the suitcase back under my cot and stepped back into the reality of my life in Togo.

Now as I am sweating on the very paper I write, I realize, despite my ache for home and comfort I am really happy. I mention that because any sane person who lived ten minutes in my life today would mostly likely have packed up their suitcases and ran, or maybe I am just reflecting on how many times I myself considered doing so. Yet, somehow as I listen to the distant mumbles of a language I can’t even begin to understand, the obnoxious scream of a pentad, all while swatting flies from my face, I know there is no place I would rather be, despite all of the hardships , and let me tell you life here is full of hardships. I will begin with the events of yesterday, I was in Mogou a village about 35 kilometers outside of Takpapeni visiting Ellen a Girls Education and Empowerment volunteer and my closest neighbor. Tuesday happens to be Marche day in Mogou, so just from that I knew it would be an eventful day. We started our day with a visit to the local clinic where Ellen and one awesome lady from Mogou were conducting interviews about the health of young girls in the village. The interview questions were an attempt to get some sort of statistics or even perspective on health issues such as forced marriage (during adolescence) , adolescent pregnancy, and young girls who come into the clinic due to complications from attempts at home abortions. The nurse seemed slightly reluctant to acknowledge the last question. By the end of the interview the two ladies were gossiping partially in French and partially in Kabye (a local language), from what Ellen and I were able to make out they were saying something along the lines of “ Now what boy thinks he can come along and tell my daughter that she needs to quit school to be with him and work at home.” So refreshing to hear that from two women in a small village where in the last class of MIDDLE School only four girls remain, the rest lost to various occurrences such as pregnancy, marriage, inability to pay school fees, or because they are needed at home or in the fields. The later part being that sad part of the story, the refreshing part that there are a handful of women, including Ellen who are willing to advocate for the rights of girls.

After the interview we decided to take a short walk. As we walked down the dirt road through endless miles of fields and Baobab tress, passing beautiful Fulani people, attempting to saluat in a language we didn’t know- I could hardly believe that this is my life. As we approached the end of our walk, the Chiefs house, we decided to go in and Saluat (very important part of Togolese culture.) Her chief turned out to be this awesome respected member of the village. We sat for a while listening to him ramble about someone in the village who stole money from some important fund, and then we were on our way. By this time it was around 10:30 in the morning so naturally we stop at the bar to enjoy a drink, I tried to stick to my golden rule in this country if never drinking before 5- not working out to well in my favor. Tried to order a non-alcoholic drink only to be joined by the Chief who bought us a round of beers, so no big deal, right, one bee? O no, the beers here are massive, one being the equivalent of 2.5 American sized brews. So I forcefully gulped down the Lager and was relieved when he left only offering one beer each. Yet, shortly before he left- pranced in his beautiful daughter and Ellen’s best friend in the village who is ready to start the market with some Chook (a traditional millet beer made in massive quantities and sold by the calabash. So we make our way to the chook stand where I naively thought I could sit while Ellen and her friend enjoyed some, wrong. It is tradition at every stand you go to gout (taste) the chook before you pay the whole ten cents for your drink. As I struggled through drinking the gout I could feel my stomach expanding, only to have Ellen’s friends buys us a round. As I am sitting starring at a calabash full to the rim, I think in my head about how I could strategically place it where it could get spilled- ooops right? But then I figured the plan would backfire only to have the entire stand of people buy me a calabash. I think and think and no prevail, I gulp down the rest of my Chook. It’s noon, my belly protrudes and my balance is off- Ellen and I try to make our way through the market to buy things, but hot and boozed we realize it’s a bad idea and head back to her house.

Its 2 pm I rub my eyes waking up from our afternoon nap, thirsty as ever with a massive headache, time to make my way back to Takpapeni. I hop on the back of a moto and start my hour journey back to village, hitting pot holes, nearly bouncing off the back, and only breaking down once- that’s what I call a successful ride. I make it back to village to find I still don’t have a latrine or windows in my house. I love my village for their hospitality, giving nature, and excitement to have me, but their ability to work quickly and efficiently is another story. The county Director and my program director visited my site recently, I had mentioned that things were slow moving but hadn’t really complain because it had yet to bother me enough. I was trying to be “patient and flexible” the two words that are drilled into our minds during training. Apparently my conditions were worse than I thought. The CD was upset with how I was living, no latrine and a house not really ready to live in. They gathered all of the important people in my village and threatened to move me if they didn’t get things done quickly or at least provide me with the basic living requirements. I know it is what they needed to motivate them but I couldn’t help but feel guilty and horrible about the entire situation. I recognize that it is difficult for them to understand why I require more amenities then they do, after all they have been living this way for years- but alas I need somewhere other than the bush to do my business, I need a shower where my naked body won’t be revealed to the entire village, and windows to provide light and air in my house.

After being offered other villages to move to and long conversations with the CD, I decided to stick it out in Takapapeni for I am already attached and I feel like it is where I am supposed to be. I just hope that this isn’t my warning sign to how they will approach projects. Somehow the people in my village got wind that the CD was offering other villages to me and all hell broke loose. People gathered franticly screaming and demanding pardon, almost in tears. I had to convince an ancient lady that she didn’t need to pump water for me to finish molding together the walls of my latrine. A few days later, things have progressed; I almost have a finished latrine and windows in my house. Between that and stepping on a sharp rock in my room only to fall and spill my chamber pot full of urine all over myself, my floor mat, and my backpack all I can say Is C’est la vie!.

It’s Like This World Never Sleeps

To begin, I know I am way past due on my blog writing… but in my defense I did begin writing only to lose my computer to a tragic accident on my way up to Northern Togo. So, I will try to remember and reflect back on everything that has happened in the last ten weeks. Wow and saying that… “Ten weeks,” I can hardly believe I have been here for that long, at the same time somehow ten weeks has felt like ten months. The sense of time here is really bizarre and I haven’t quite adjusted to it yet, days go by really slowly but months seem to pass quickly. It scares me in a sense because I have yet to be able to wrap my mind around living here for two years; it still seems daunting in a way. I wonder how I am going to find projects and things to do in my village for two years, at the same time I can see two years slipping by before I am able to accomplish enough, whether it be relationships, personal growth, or the impact I am supposed to make in my community. But, before I get into all of that I will try to re-cap the last few months of my life here for you.
Where to start, the first few weeks seem like a blur (something out of a movie). Being shuttled around in out private Peace Corps land rovers and having our every move planned and monitored. Sitting in a circle the first night at an “upscale” hotel, being handed a pill, told to take it without any questions asked or explanations given seems... so well for lack of better words government oriented (Don’t worry it was only our first dose of anti-malarials.) Going straight from little America (Peace Corps Bureau) to living with my host family in Gbatope was quite the transition; battling cultural barriers, struggling to perfect my French, trying to grasp basic greetings in three local languages, learning how to squat over a latrine when business calls, rejecting marriage proposals, combating illness and heat rash; a while trying to maintain some sense of sanity and normalcy… all seems like a part of life now (C’est la vie). At first I couldn’t understand why I was putting myself through some of these things, but little by little I came to realize that the good outweighs the bad… by nearly 100 lbs!
I am not going to lie, life here is tough, more than I ever could have imagined. Togo in one of two Peace Corps hardship countries remaining, we even get paid a little extra because of it. When walking and driving around the country it becomes very apparent why it is in fact a “hardship post.” Despite my past experiences in Africa, I am shocked here about how different life can be in each place. I am so taken back at times thinking about how two countries in the same world can have such immense levels of development (again for lack of a better term.) It makes it really difficult to believe that we are actually one world… yet at other times when you get down to the concept of humanity I am reminded how we are part of the same world. I could go off on a rant about that concept itself, but I’ll spare you all for now. So like I said life here is tough, but I never thought it was going to be easy, and what would the experience be if it was? Yet, when you break everything down piece by piece and really reflect on it, it is not that difficult at all (for Peace Corps volunteers) I have all my basic needs here met; food, water, roof over my head, enough money live more comfortably than the majority of Togolese people, I have excellent access to health care, a cell phone, a work station to retreat to whenever I need a mental health day, invaluable language lessons, technical training on subjects I could have only dreamed about learning before-all while getting to live this exciting and new life. I mean what more could I ask for, especially with the state of things in the rest of the world right now? So ten weeks in- I couldn’t be happier with my decision to be here.
The last nine weeks at my training site in Gbatope have been amazing, emotional, informative, frustrating, exhilarating, and HOT- definitely one of the hardest things about being here, my intolerance for heat and humidity. The persistent wetness you feel from sweat pouring out of every gland is not the most pleasant experience. I am so happy that I am posted up North where humidity doesn’t exist, let’s see how I feel in a few months when hot season hits and it gets up to one hundred and twenty degrees in the shade! So if anybody wants to come rescue me in the middle of February thru May, or somehow send me care packages full of snow, ice, and popsicles it would be greatly appreciated!!! Hopefully I won’t be too hot, laying spread eagle while fanning myself and crying that I won’t be able to put some of my new skills to use. Speaking of skills, wow, thinking of everything I have learned so far blows my mind! My official title here is… Environmental Action and Food Security volunteer (EAFS). Our goals in a nutshell; are to promote environmental awareness with a focus on women and youth, enhance sustainable agricultural production, and increase the amount and quality of food for all people at all times. As a program we define food security, ideally,” as a basic human right that guarantees equal access to nutritious and safe food while promoting cultural, environmental, and economic sustainability.” Thus, during training we focused on learning new skills, concepts, and techniques which can be put into practice to help these goals on a small scale. Some of my favorites classes were; mushroom cultivation, improved cook stoves, animal husbandry, container gardening, companion planting, and Moringa (an amazing tree that gives nitrogen to the soil (Nitrogen fixing tree), and also has amazing nutritional benefits. I think back to a few months ago sitting in my room in Eugene researching classes on such subjects, considering paying thousands of dollars for courses, weighing the pros and cons of the Peace Corps and being very reluctant to join- and here I am now having learned all of these things in only nine weeks and being the one who was paid to do so. How lucky am I? Not to mention all of the other skills I learned outside of technical class.
I now know how to repair almost every part on a bike, how to carry things on my head, how to silent scream at small children/ adults who yell Yovo at me (Yovo:white person/cunning dog), how to make tofu and soy milk and various other food items, how to do laundry by hand, how to filter water through many different methods, how to sit for hours on end starring out random animals, objects, and children all while still be entertained and let’s not forget the most important skill- how to live for seven weeks with a bacterial intestinal infection (with only a very smelly latrine to run to). I pretty much feel like superman after these last ten weeks and am pretty sure I could do most anything! But to be a bit more serious I have learned so many invaluable things from my host family in Gbatope. I have been exposed to what is a beautiful culture in one sense and a sad one in another. The way that Togolese foster relationships with everyone in a community, and everyone is considered part of each other’s families is something we greatly lack in our culture, additionally the ability for a culture to be so giving while having so little has really opened my eyes up to the beauty of humanity at its roots. “If there is enough for one here there is enough for all,” what my host family told me every day, and I witnessed them feed strangers and even enemies when asked. At the same time I have been exposed to many things that break my heart, and I am trying to not become desensitized in a way where I become a harder person, but learn how to acknowledge that things are different and often there is nothing I can do to change them. My last few days at my host family’s house in Gbtaope were difficult, I got really close to my host sister, a fifteen year old girl who was actually my families niece. She had lost both of her own parents to illness and worked for my host family in exchange for living with them and getting her school fees paid for. I have never seen more of hard working child, who was also wise beyond her years. I don’t want to get to into the story to protect her privacy, but she ended up leaving a few days before I was about to move to post. I was unable to say goodbye, and find out where she was before I left. It was a difficult time for me because I wish I would have done more to be her friend, her ally, instead of being too consumed with my own life and too concerned about stepping on people’s feet or disrespecting the culture to be her advocate. I suppose you live and you learn and can only try harder and be better the next time around, and inevitably there will always be a next time around, especially in a country where women’s and children’s rights are almost non-existent in the majority of the country.
To wrap things up, I swore in a week ago and am now an official volunteer! I left for post the day after our swear-in party and got to Takpapeni (my village) and was left to fly with my own wings, only to discover that my latrine was not completed (aka- no bathroom), my shower was still at stomach height, thus the whole village can gawk while I take my bucket showers (in a shower that the children use as their bathroom), and my kitchen still has massive holes, a wasp nest, and one window the size of a small notebook. C’est la vie. Thus for the first few days at post it was like pulling teeth to try to get anything accomplished, and so far after a week the only thing done is half of my shower has been built higher….so it is a work in progress. Other then housing issues I spent the first four days at post reading, taking lots of naps, coloring with children, and trying to bleach the mud white washed walls of my hut (not a good idea, now it looks like someone shat all over the place…oh joy). Despite all of this, I love Takpapeni it is a wonderful and welcoming village, and I have the nicest host family. I live with the family of one of the village nurse (Michelle) and his wife, they have two or three kids haven’t quite figured it out yet… a baby girl about 9 months old named Vero who is terrified of me and screams every time she sees me, a four year old little girl name Christaian who is slowly warming up to me, and then an older girl about ten years old who works a lot not sure if she is their daughter. Also, Michelle’s sister lives in the compound. She has a two-year old boy named Kossi, who has the biggest belly and is always naked except for the occasional blue oversized soccer sock he wears on one foot. He refuses to look at me and when he catches me look at him he grins with a deadly adorable smile and hides his face. Then there Michelle’s mother, who is a phenomenal woman about 75 years old- the way this women can climb up a 15 foot grain storage container jump inside and disappear then crawl back out with a 20lb sac of grain is something out of this world. All and all minus all of the hut frustration I have a pretty amazing village, complete with an entourage of wonderful children that follow me around everywhere. I can’t wait to see what is to come, the work I will do with my homologue, the friendships I will make, the amount of books I will read, and how good I will get at combating boredom… so far my method is starring at burning candles from 6 pm when it gets dark (no electricity) to 8 pm when I climb under my mosquito net only to sweat myself to sleep. Although, I can’t complain because when I can handle the massive amounts of insects the stars in a village with no lights are something out of a dream!
Well, hope you all had an amazing Thanksgiving, I must admit mine was pretty bomb. We transported three live turkeys from Lome up north to Dapaong (my regional capital) and enjoyed the freshest most free range turkey I will ever have the opportunity to eat (although one flew off the roof on the way and died.. so that one was a little less fresh). Wonderful parents sent amazing care packages full of pumpkin pie cake mix, stuffing mix, cranberry sauce, cornbread and more! So I had a pretty American thanksgiving! Enjoy the rest of holiday season; I will try to be better about blog writing, but it is difficult without a personal computer. Miss you all and if you feel inclined to send care packages I will put some ideas below of things kids in my village, me, and other volunteers would enjoy!
My address:
PCV Manda Draper
Corps de la Paix
BP102
Mango, Togo West Africa
Small puzzles
Water color
pencils
Coloring books
paints/paint brushes
Stickers
Soccer balls
Fun games
Candy
Chocolate
Crackers/ goodies
Tuna packets (in water)
Nuts (unsalted)
Bars (cliif bars, power
bars, lara bars)
Anything that tastes good
Anything slightly ndulgent (things that we can’t get here)
Movies
Tv shows on thumb drives
Good music
Newspaper articles
Nat. geographic magazine
Batteries
Cool stickers for my moto helmet and bike
Calendars
World maps/ maps of anything
cool stuff to put on my walls
Bubbles
Any good books
Dog toys, dog treats,
Cleaning supplies
Wet ones
Seeds (vegetables, fruit, flower)
Candles
Tea
Good coffee/french press
Star chart
flax seeds
pretty earrings
head bands/hair things
peanut butter
almond butter (not in glass)
pictures of
things in America to show village
pictures of family and friends
any good articles on gardening/ tree planting/ agriculture/ chicken raising
Quinoa
FUN/YUMMY/COOl SURPRISES

"I have been living in poverty because I couldn't see my wealth"

After waiting officially for over a year and in reality for most of my life…. the countdown to my departure begins. In less than one month I will leave everything I know: my friends, family, and comforts of the US to explore a new life for the next 27 months. As expected preparing for my departure comes with mixed emotions, and is in a sense bittersweet.

Those of you, who are closest to me, know that this decision was not an easy one to come to. I struggled for months deciding if this is the path I am meant to take in life and if I fully supported the Peace Corps and all it stands for. First of all, I want to thank you for being patient with me and dealing my rollercoaster of emotions. I also want to thank those of you who told me how it is, to cut the crap and my need to weigh every pro and con and well…just go. Honestly, without the push and support from you all, I wouldn’t be about to depart on what will inevitably be the most life-changing journey of my life. Now, this is not to say that I do completely agree with every aspect of the Peace Corps, but I know it is my intentions and those I am volunteering with that count, and at this point in my life this is something I need to do. Nonetheless, this is going to be the most difficult thing I have ever done, especially after a recent epiphany about life.

For a while here I forgot how to appreciate just how amazing my life here and now is. All I could think about was leaving and running away from a place that I didn’t feel I fit into at all. I took for granted the small things, but really the things that make my world turn. I ignored simple day-to-day interactions with my family, my friends, with strangers, with nature, and animals-all, which hold so much beauty. I felt lost for quite some time, but I have recently realized that we are never lost we are simply where we are, and we just need to be. I have processed a lot of emotions in the last few months, some I never expected, some that I resent, and some that I hope will never go away. I am so grateful that I realized these things before I left and spent the time with people that I needed instead of pushing people away because I felt a lack of connection. At the same time it makes leaving a little more difficult, but I know there are still so many reasons to why I need to do this.

I can't imagine and don't want to imagine what the next two years or the rest of my life will be like if I don't take this amazing opportunity that is here and now. I fear both leaving and staying. All I know is that in my current life I lack a strong sense of purpose... I know it exists and like I said I want to appreciate every moment for what it is, but I desire to be infused with a real sense of purpose one that is tangible that I can clearly see on a daily basis. Whether, that means lending a helping hand, or simply learning all I can from people that have a completely different perspective on life. I know that what I learn will be more meaningful then what I can offer, but I want to do all that I can.

I also know that if I were to stay that I would feel caught in this limbo of routine... Why live the same life day to day when there is so much more out there to be discovered, to be seen, to experience? I know for many of us, discoveries can come in our own backyard, with our daily interactions. I appreciate that there are moments when we meet someone who for one reason or another leaves an impact on our lives. But, I know from experience that I tend to get caught in routine and forget about the small things. I get absorbed with work that leaves me feeling meaningless and interactions that I often feel are phony.... and lose my excitement for life. I attempt to plan everything out and then fail to bring any plan to fruition… I try to predict what will happen from day to day and while doing so drive myself completely insane.

I want to be excited everyday; I don’t want to predict the future-I want to live everyday for what it is. I want to discover the unknown-reach beyond my comforts. I have seen and I crave to see the beauty in different cultures, religions, and ways of life. I want to listen to music I have never heard, see art that is unlike anything I have seen before and take photographs of a beautiful existence that I never knew.

With my past travels I experienced what I believe is true happiness, cultures where people live off their land by tending to it and cultivating it. A culture where everyone is your sister or brother, where happiness wasn’t measured by materialistic goods, but instead by relationships and by the hard work yet natural instinct to provide ones own sustenance to live. Traveling also reminded of the resilience of life. Nature’s ability to persevere after a storm, a countries ability to rebuild its self after a war, a mother’s ability to provide for her children despite her ailments and lack of resources and a child’s ability to continue to love, to laugh, and to simply smile after they have lost everything they have ever known. Although, I learned so much before and my eyes were opened to an entire new way of living, the short amount of time I spent in each place made my experience more superficial then I would have liked. I really crave an intense cultural experience, where I learn everything about a community, a culture, and a life completely different than my own. I feel like if I really want to attempt to do any good, or help create anything sustainable I need to commit my self first to learning the life, needs, and dreams of the people I am trying to help. That is one of the driving forces of choosing the Peace Corps because with two years I can learn and give so much more then with a year or six month commitment. I can hope that whatever I do or accomplish in Togo will change at least one person’s life, but I am not expecting to change anyone else’s life but my own.

All in all this still may not be the right decision and I will never really know if it was... but it is the decision I am going to live with for the rest of my life. I am confident with my choice and can’t wait to see what Togo has in store for me! Thank you again to everyone who has supported me, gave me a kick in the butt, or continues to support me through all of this- and to everyone and everything that helped me realize my wealth and just how amazing my own life here is.

"Help others achieve their dreams and you will achieve yours”- Les Brown.