Today I spent 3½ hours in bank hell, but I got what I wanted by golly! I opened my first African bank account. So now I have a place to put my pennies.
I would like to take a moment and let you reflect on your last trip to the DMV or the last time you waited for a really long time and experienced a lot of frustration and may be someone being difficult with you just because they needed to be better than someone else. This is my all to common experience when I go places like the bank here. I don’t even go to pay my bills I have a Togolese go for me to avoid that hassles. Honestly.
While I was at the bank I need to just run through the highlights as I would prefer to forget this day.
The woman was definitely more into talking to the woman next to her, answering the phone, and talking to people passing her cube than speaking to me.
She told me there were several types of accounts but didn’t even explain one type to me. Even when I went back in the conversation and asked specifically.
She told me to fill out the paper and then write it on the back…Yes I had to have a 5 minute discussion with her about how I didn’t understand what “IT” was and please stop saying ‘write it’ and may be say this another way so I could understand. She just referred me to the bank manager. He told me I should have brought a translator with me. I explained I did but she had to leave and the woman wasn’t helping us when my translator was there with me. He felt bad so he sat and translated the form for me and then he had me print “I approve” at the bottom of the form.
They charge you $3 a month to have an account. Later they told me they will charge me another $36 a year and then as I was almost done and walking to make my deposit they told me I had to pay a fee to make a cash deposit! I lost it and only deposited my check. Then they wouldn’t let me out of they bank…literally I was locked inside. The bank manager said he would pay the fee today but I had to deposit my money. I told him it was ok. I deposited the check and I would keep the money.
I almost got hit by a car in the secret back parking lot that they made me walk out, rather than the front door.
Oh and I should mention that the moto driver tried to charge me double for the ride home. Then his friend came over to tell me that I was crazy and 400 cfa was standard. I told him I travel this route almost every day and it’s 200 cfa and he knows it. He was lying to me. I smiled and gave him the funny teacher look and reminded him that yes I was white but not stupid. I laughed, he laughed, the moto guy laughed and then took me home for 200 cfa. But we had to drive by all of his friends and they cheered for him that he had a yovo on the bike and yelled YOVO at me…Oh this is my funny life!
28 October, 2009
Out of Hand Kindness
The first day of vacation started out fairly normal. I got up early with the dog and then began making dog food. I usually do this on the weekend but put it off as we made an impromptu beach trip over the weekend. So I was cooking in the kitchen and I heard Julie laughing hysterically in her room. I went to see what was so funny at 6:30am when she is normally asleep. She said that one of the guys that we were out with last night sent her a message last night and said that he has been trying for 2 weeks to show her that he likes her but after hanging out last night he realized that Julie and I are more than friends and he understands now.
Yes, there were 5 of us who were hanging out and we are all friends and have been friends since arrival. Yes, Julie and I have noticed that this guy has been more interested in being around if Julie is present. Yes, she has not responded or reciprocated his interest and just acted normal as she is a kind hearted and non-confrontational person. Yes, Julie and I are roommates and very good friends, even more like sisters at times. We eat all our meals together each day. We argue about who has done the dishes more or bought more vegetables. We hang out together all the time and enjoy being around each other. No, we are not lesbians.
Julie finds this extremely funny and we begin to reflect on what makes him think this way. We had spoken last night after the dinner how this guy had changed toward the end and he wasn’t so happy. Both of us thought that we had offended him and I even spoke to him at the end to try to make things ok. Apparently Julie and I were off as he wasn’t made at us. He just thought he realized we were gay, which we are not. While we reflect we think about how we sit next to each other, there were times when we spoke together more quietly about observations or inside jokes, we laughed at each other, we shared ice cream, she paid for our dinners as we take turns paying when we go out. These are all things that you do with your very close friends and she is like my sister so it is normal for us. Oh dear. She laughs and I laugh too but it’s weird he thinks this about us. We are clearly not gay nor could we be gay, because we like boys too much and we have both had enough boy drama since we arrived that it is even funnier to us.
This is going to be the running joke with us at home for a while. I even joked we need to begin to call each other “girlfriend” when we are around this guy and may be even hold hands. May be that might be cruel to make fun of him but honestly it’s just beyond me how he could think and say something like this about us.
Julie made sure that she met with him today to work out this inaccurate observation. Apparently this guy didn’t want to come to our house as I scare him or he didn’t want to face both of us at the same time. I don’t know for sure, but I was sad that he wouldn’t eat dinner at our house and he wouldn’t even ring the doorbell and come in. He apparently wants to have a special talk with each one of us. I think after that it will be ok…on the condition we can laugh about this the rest of the year.
Oh an update...He believed we were lesbians because we sat next to each other at the resturant and I sat inbetween him and my roommate. Since he liked my roommate he felt I was marking her as mine and not his. Then after I poured a glass of water for him and then myself I shared some of my water with her. He also said there were times that we were talking just to each other quietly and then laughing and he feels that we make fun of all men. OK.
But all is good now and life is going on. I'm not married or dating my roommate. It's amazing the problems that people make for each other because they want something.
Yes, there were 5 of us who were hanging out and we are all friends and have been friends since arrival. Yes, Julie and I have noticed that this guy has been more interested in being around if Julie is present. Yes, she has not responded or reciprocated his interest and just acted normal as she is a kind hearted and non-confrontational person. Yes, Julie and I are roommates and very good friends, even more like sisters at times. We eat all our meals together each day. We argue about who has done the dishes more or bought more vegetables. We hang out together all the time and enjoy being around each other. No, we are not lesbians.
Julie finds this extremely funny and we begin to reflect on what makes him think this way. We had spoken last night after the dinner how this guy had changed toward the end and he wasn’t so happy. Both of us thought that we had offended him and I even spoke to him at the end to try to make things ok. Apparently Julie and I were off as he wasn’t made at us. He just thought he realized we were gay, which we are not. While we reflect we think about how we sit next to each other, there were times when we spoke together more quietly about observations or inside jokes, we laughed at each other, we shared ice cream, she paid for our dinners as we take turns paying when we go out. These are all things that you do with your very close friends and she is like my sister so it is normal for us. Oh dear. She laughs and I laugh too but it’s weird he thinks this about us. We are clearly not gay nor could we be gay, because we like boys too much and we have both had enough boy drama since we arrived that it is even funnier to us.
This is going to be the running joke with us at home for a while. I even joked we need to begin to call each other “girlfriend” when we are around this guy and may be even hold hands. May be that might be cruel to make fun of him but honestly it’s just beyond me how he could think and say something like this about us.
Julie made sure that she met with him today to work out this inaccurate observation. Apparently this guy didn’t want to come to our house as I scare him or he didn’t want to face both of us at the same time. I don’t know for sure, but I was sad that he wouldn’t eat dinner at our house and he wouldn’t even ring the doorbell and come in. He apparently wants to have a special talk with each one of us. I think after that it will be ok…on the condition we can laugh about this the rest of the year.
Oh an update...He believed we were lesbians because we sat next to each other at the resturant and I sat inbetween him and my roommate. Since he liked my roommate he felt I was marking her as mine and not his. Then after I poured a glass of water for him and then myself I shared some of my water with her. He also said there were times that we were talking just to each other quietly and then laughing and he feels that we make fun of all men. OK.
But all is good now and life is going on. I'm not married or dating my roommate. It's amazing the problems that people make for each other because they want something.
23 October, 2009
The Way Graduation Should Be
My Togolese friend told me that one of his friends was graduating from hair dressing school and told me that I should go with him. This is one of my good friends (if I can say that after living 7 weeks) so I agree that it would be a fun opportunity. I meet my friend and we ride on his moto to the school. There were 12 girls graduating and so there were 12 sections. We were escorted to the appropriate section and I was so thankful that we sat in the shade. Each section was overseen by the girl’s family and so her brother greeted us and made sure that our chairs were wiped off. This is a very common thing, matter of fact people buy small packs of Kleenex for two reasons. The first is to wipe off the seat before you sit down and the second to dab the sweat off their face. Who would have thought this was so imperative? It’s so common that outside places like church, the Justice of the Peace, and this school that was holding the graduation that there are venders who sell the Kleenex packets and gum. Go figure, that gum is also something that you have for these special occasions. Welcome to another country Nina.
True to special occasion form, there is a Master of Ceremony, huge booming speakers cranked up, dancers, photographers, a few cameramen accompanied by the spotlight men, and money given to people. The ceremony began with the girls dressed in matching outfits, dancing there way to their seats in the center of the courtyard. I would like to add that all the teachers were also dressed in matching outfits as they sat facing the students and the audience. Then the director danced in and took her seat. There were some words said and then the girls stood in 2s and introduced themselves then loud music was played and people came to put money into the basket that they held. This money was given to the director as a thank you gift for the girl’s education. As the offering was taken by each girl from her friends and family I watched as people danced and celebrated this time of completion for each girl.
It’s hard for me to think that they can’t just get a job now but they have to work as an apprentice for 3 years WITHOUT PAY! Then they will be able to work for pay. It’s so hard to find jobs for the Togolese people, yet it seems that everyone works. It’s because they have established this cycle of pay for school and then work for free for years and may be if you meet and know the right people you will get a job. Otherwise you will be unemployed and have to start another internship for another 3 years and hope that you can get a job afterward. To top it off educated people who graduated with a Master’s degree at from the University who get a job are only making about $300 a month.
There was a dance troupe that entertained us while the girls changed. This was traditional African dance and then some original choreographing. I’ll go out on a limb but the dance that made fun of Muslims the way that Americans would dress up like “blackie” with shoe polish on their faces was appalling to me. Then there was the song that they danced to that talked about being happy. One line talked about being so happy that they peed. Yes, one of the four men dancing opened his fly in the middle of the dance and urinated on the ground. I almost fell out of my chair. I truly was speechless. I still feel a little weird just talking about it. This just proves that boundaries are different between cultures.
The girls returned and showcased their hair styles and outfits like professional models. Well, professional models with this crazy auntie or teacher running around guiding them and waiving her scarf around. It was entertaining and I thought of her as a happy Tinkerbelle type of lady who was just having fun.
It was during this time that the families, who were in charge of each section, passed out water and then snacks for the guests who came to see the girl graduate. Yes, I took a plastic bag of water. I was so thirsty. I had read that the plastic bags with the blue writing were OK, but not to drink the clear bags. About half way through drinking the bag I could feel my stomach lurch. I knew that this was not my brightest move and I regretted no bringing my water bottle that I carry everywhere else. My friend and I took the snack bags, but I put them in my bag for later, even though I was hungry I knew that if the water wasn’t so great I shouldn’t risk the double whammy with the snack too.
Soon the girls were collecting money again, but this time is was for their gifts for graduation. We give cards with cash, they stand in front of their families and friends with a kitchen pot and their loved ones give them money. Then the family and friends linger and dance a bit too. I refrained from lingering and dancing as I was the ONLY white person for a few miles in this area and well I’d been trying to blend a little.
The finale of this event was the presentation of the diplomas. It was beautiful and amazing and made the 3 hours of sitting completely worth it! I felt jealous that we don’t celebrate an achievement like this in America! The girls lined up and faced the director shoulder to shoulder. Traditional music played and the Director danced over and circled the first girl and took her arm. She danced her to the front and still arm in arm put her large framed diploma in her arms. Then girl then left the Director and danced all around the perimeter of where the graduates had been sitting to show everyone her diploma, then took her seat. Meanwhile, the Director had gone onto the last girl in line and done the same with her. This continued, one end to the other until the girl in the middle was also presented her diploma. It was beautiful!
Of course there were a million pictures taken and then each girl went to her family and friends and then there were more pictures taken. I of course, being the token white person, was made to take many many pictures. I smiled and tried to hide my ugly canvas bag behind me.
After the graduation we were then invited to the house. At 7:15 my friend told me that we would leave at 8:00pm. I thought this would be good. Then the family began feeding us. My stomach was still not right after the water but I knew that this was special and I couldn’t say no to their food. Of course I forgot to mention that the power had gone out just before we arrived so the food was served in the dark. It was traditional style, which means you eat with your hands. We prayed over the food (of course!) and I began to eat the chicken. But the chicken was more bone and less meat. I mean the chicken bones I boil for my puppy had more meat on them. I felt bad for thinking this but I promise it is the truth. I also thought of my mom and how she loved to suck and nibble at chicken bones. I think that there were times she condemned me for not enjoying this too and for leaving too much meat on the bone. I know she would enjoy this and I wondered if she wasn’t looking down laughing at me as I was doing my best to eat what was on these bone pieces. I smiled to myself.
There was also some mash type carb-based dish that the French call pot. It’s served with a sauce and typically I have the red sauce and it’s made with chicken or fish and it’s tomato-based with lots of hot pepper. I was sadly mistaken this evening when I was given this pot. I not only got the fish head but it was a greenish clear sauce. I laughed with my friend that he would have to eat the eyeballs as I can’t do this yet, but instead he just had them give me the tail piece instead. I was worried that the family would think bad of me or that I was too picky but it didn’t seem to matter. We shared the pot and the tail of the fish. Of course my friend ate the back bone and I had the fish, sauce, and pot all with my fingers. Now I need to explain that the greenish-clear sauce was not just interesting in the dark, but I couldn’t really enjoy the flavor as the consistency was too much like snot and the way it stuck to my fingers reminded me of Slimmer from Ghost Busters. I asked my friend what it was made from a few times, but he didn’t know. I wondered if okra was hidden in it as okra makes thinks slimy, but there is no telling for sure. I just know after I took a bit with my fingers and then closed my pointer, middle, and thumb and then opened them again that a large string of slime connected them. Since the lights were still off I played with my food a little more and my friend laughed at me. I found it more like science than dinner. I think I should get an E for effort in eating this dish for sure. Oh and how could I forget that since it was a very special occasion that they were serving whiskey to wash down the meal. I wish I had known when they were handing out, but I knew that this was very expensive here and I had to toast with everyone else. So I washed all this down with a shot of whiskey. Later I wondered if the alcohol wouldn’t help disinfect any harmful bacteria and was glad I had the whiskey.
We didn’t leave at 8pm, because that was when the power turned on and the dancing began. Oh yes my friends I danced and learned a little African dancing too. I danced with men and little boys and women and laughed until my sides hurt. It was such a great time. I think that we left around 10pm. When one of my friend’s friend also needed to go. We all squished on his moto and rode home. I laughed to myself as we drove home as I was this white girl squished between these black guys on this moto…the human oreo cookie. Oh my life!
I will tell you I spent the next 2 or 3 days taking Imodium and drinking water and eating mild food…my poor tummy. I just know it was the water in the plastic bag that did me in. My body isn’t quite ready to be Togolese yet.
True to special occasion form, there is a Master of Ceremony, huge booming speakers cranked up, dancers, photographers, a few cameramen accompanied by the spotlight men, and money given to people. The ceremony began with the girls dressed in matching outfits, dancing there way to their seats in the center of the courtyard. I would like to add that all the teachers were also dressed in matching outfits as they sat facing the students and the audience. Then the director danced in and took her seat. There were some words said and then the girls stood in 2s and introduced themselves then loud music was played and people came to put money into the basket that they held. This money was given to the director as a thank you gift for the girl’s education. As the offering was taken by each girl from her friends and family I watched as people danced and celebrated this time of completion for each girl.
It’s hard for me to think that they can’t just get a job now but they have to work as an apprentice for 3 years WITHOUT PAY! Then they will be able to work for pay. It’s so hard to find jobs for the Togolese people, yet it seems that everyone works. It’s because they have established this cycle of pay for school and then work for free for years and may be if you meet and know the right people you will get a job. Otherwise you will be unemployed and have to start another internship for another 3 years and hope that you can get a job afterward. To top it off educated people who graduated with a Master’s degree at from the University who get a job are only making about $300 a month.
There was a dance troupe that entertained us while the girls changed. This was traditional African dance and then some original choreographing. I’ll go out on a limb but the dance that made fun of Muslims the way that Americans would dress up like “blackie” with shoe polish on their faces was appalling to me. Then there was the song that they danced to that talked about being happy. One line talked about being so happy that they peed. Yes, one of the four men dancing opened his fly in the middle of the dance and urinated on the ground. I almost fell out of my chair. I truly was speechless. I still feel a little weird just talking about it. This just proves that boundaries are different between cultures.
The girls returned and showcased their hair styles and outfits like professional models. Well, professional models with this crazy auntie or teacher running around guiding them and waiving her scarf around. It was entertaining and I thought of her as a happy Tinkerbelle type of lady who was just having fun.
It was during this time that the families, who were in charge of each section, passed out water and then snacks for the guests who came to see the girl graduate. Yes, I took a plastic bag of water. I was so thirsty. I had read that the plastic bags with the blue writing were OK, but not to drink the clear bags. About half way through drinking the bag I could feel my stomach lurch. I knew that this was not my brightest move and I regretted no bringing my water bottle that I carry everywhere else. My friend and I took the snack bags, but I put them in my bag for later, even though I was hungry I knew that if the water wasn’t so great I shouldn’t risk the double whammy with the snack too.
Soon the girls were collecting money again, but this time is was for their gifts for graduation. We give cards with cash, they stand in front of their families and friends with a kitchen pot and their loved ones give them money. Then the family and friends linger and dance a bit too. I refrained from lingering and dancing as I was the ONLY white person for a few miles in this area and well I’d been trying to blend a little.
The finale of this event was the presentation of the diplomas. It was beautiful and amazing and made the 3 hours of sitting completely worth it! I felt jealous that we don’t celebrate an achievement like this in America! The girls lined up and faced the director shoulder to shoulder. Traditional music played and the Director danced over and circled the first girl and took her arm. She danced her to the front and still arm in arm put her large framed diploma in her arms. Then girl then left the Director and danced all around the perimeter of where the graduates had been sitting to show everyone her diploma, then took her seat. Meanwhile, the Director had gone onto the last girl in line and done the same with her. This continued, one end to the other until the girl in the middle was also presented her diploma. It was beautiful!
Of course there were a million pictures taken and then each girl went to her family and friends and then there were more pictures taken. I of course, being the token white person, was made to take many many pictures. I smiled and tried to hide my ugly canvas bag behind me.
After the graduation we were then invited to the house. At 7:15 my friend told me that we would leave at 8:00pm. I thought this would be good. Then the family began feeding us. My stomach was still not right after the water but I knew that this was special and I couldn’t say no to their food. Of course I forgot to mention that the power had gone out just before we arrived so the food was served in the dark. It was traditional style, which means you eat with your hands. We prayed over the food (of course!) and I began to eat the chicken. But the chicken was more bone and less meat. I mean the chicken bones I boil for my puppy had more meat on them. I felt bad for thinking this but I promise it is the truth. I also thought of my mom and how she loved to suck and nibble at chicken bones. I think that there were times she condemned me for not enjoying this too and for leaving too much meat on the bone. I know she would enjoy this and I wondered if she wasn’t looking down laughing at me as I was doing my best to eat what was on these bone pieces. I smiled to myself.
There was also some mash type carb-based dish that the French call pot. It’s served with a sauce and typically I have the red sauce and it’s made with chicken or fish and it’s tomato-based with lots of hot pepper. I was sadly mistaken this evening when I was given this pot. I not only got the fish head but it was a greenish clear sauce. I laughed with my friend that he would have to eat the eyeballs as I can’t do this yet, but instead he just had them give me the tail piece instead. I was worried that the family would think bad of me or that I was too picky but it didn’t seem to matter. We shared the pot and the tail of the fish. Of course my friend ate the back bone and I had the fish, sauce, and pot all with my fingers. Now I need to explain that the greenish-clear sauce was not just interesting in the dark, but I couldn’t really enjoy the flavor as the consistency was too much like snot and the way it stuck to my fingers reminded me of Slimmer from Ghost Busters. I asked my friend what it was made from a few times, but he didn’t know. I wondered if okra was hidden in it as okra makes thinks slimy, but there is no telling for sure. I just know after I took a bit with my fingers and then closed my pointer, middle, and thumb and then opened them again that a large string of slime connected them. Since the lights were still off I played with my food a little more and my friend laughed at me. I found it more like science than dinner. I think I should get an E for effort in eating this dish for sure. Oh and how could I forget that since it was a very special occasion that they were serving whiskey to wash down the meal. I wish I had known when they were handing out, but I knew that this was very expensive here and I had to toast with everyone else. So I washed all this down with a shot of whiskey. Later I wondered if the alcohol wouldn’t help disinfect any harmful bacteria and was glad I had the whiskey.
We didn’t leave at 8pm, because that was when the power turned on and the dancing began. Oh yes my friends I danced and learned a little African dancing too. I danced with men and little boys and women and laughed until my sides hurt. It was such a great time. I think that we left around 10pm. When one of my friend’s friend also needed to go. We all squished on his moto and rode home. I laughed to myself as we drove home as I was this white girl squished between these black guys on this moto…the human oreo cookie. Oh my life!
I will tell you I spent the next 2 or 3 days taking Imodium and drinking water and eating mild food…my poor tummy. I just know it was the water in the plastic bag that did me in. My body isn’t quite ready to be Togolese yet.
More Pictures!
This is my shower. Please know it is like every shower here...it doesn't work before 9:00am. If you wish to get clean before 9am you squat unter the lower faucet and bathe or use a bucket. I prefer to just shower in the evening and wake up with punky hair and comb and clip it down each morning than be frustrated with the lack of water pressure. It's always a nice cold temperature...another really good reason to take a shower at night as it doesn't feel so cold when I'm hot. 
My kitchen...note there is no oven only the camp-like burners to cook, but this is high class compared to the single burner that sits directly on the propane tank that most people have. It gets super hot in here and the bugs multiply like some bizzarre science lab...Thank goodness the geckos like to feed on the bugs! Oh, I do have a small refrigerator that is not in the picture, but that is it. High class, let me tell you! But it's home. 
Roxy 11 weeks old.
Roxy's first day at home...This was 4 weeks ago. She was 8 weeks old.
Julie drawing water from the well to water the lawn. Just in case you were wondering it takes 3 buckets to fill the watering can. I don't know exactly but it's a lot of trips with the watering can to actually water the whole yard. 
The back of the yard. This is my roommate, Julie, watering the yard...I hope you are all thankful for sprinklers! Please also notice the clothes lines...our dryer.
This is my house! On the left near the purple flowers is the gate to the street. Then the front door is in the middle. Our awning is great and we love sitting out here. This morning we had brought our living room chairs out and had breakfast. Then the right side is the wall we share with our neighbor. The old fashioned well is along this wall also. I'm standing under the clothes line taking this picture.21 October, 2009
Picture Time!!!!
Paula, the lizard who lives in the yard at our house. 
Playground at my school.
Picture of me that one of my 5 year olds drew.It looks just like me!
boy pooping on the beach...all too common!
Me sweeping my room with a traditional broom.14 October, 2009
The Wedding
I think I forgot to share about the wedding I went to a few weeks ago and I’m sorry. It was interesting and we had a good time.
We took motos to this nice hotel that also doubles as the Justice of The Peace. It was a courtroom but with big plush chairs rather than wooden benches. When the head official came into the room a woman clapped three times and we all stood up. He marched in and took his seat at the head bench in front of the seated bride and groom. There was a video-grapher taping the ceremony. This is the huge camera from the 80’s with a VHS tape and how can I forget the spotlight that was blinding!
Let me refresh you on this situation. I was invited to be this lady’s friend by her Togolese fiancée one day outside the American Embassy, but I’d only spoken to her on the phone a few times and never met her. She asked if I’d come to the wedding and I know that she is really far from home, so I said yes. Literally, Julie and I were the only other white people beside her. Needless to say we had to be in all the pictures for this reason. It was comical, but fun and she was really nice.
The ceremony was in French and from what Julie said it was not vows, but the official spoke the laws of Togo about the duties of a man and the duties of a woman and what each had to do now that they were married. There wasn’t anything about love or till death do you part. At one part the official even asked the husband if he wanted to have other wives because he had to state it then, for the paperwork of course, during the ceremony. In all fairness he asked the lady too and once it was translated for her she said no also.
We were taken in the groom’s brother’s car to another hotel for more pictures and then to the house. Let me pause and tell you that it was like we left Africa for a few hours. The house was amazing. They even have 3 extra bedrooms and invited us to stay with them. This house was posh by L.A. standards. Then the brother’s house is in the back of their property and the sister’s house is next door. The family compound was amazing! The rooftop was flat and the reception was held up there. The brother and the uncle sat with us. The brother’s wife didn’t sit with us as she had to tend their son and waited hand and foot on her husband too. She even came and fed him at one point. He danced with Julie and I. I felt bad for the wife. Then the uncle basically wanted to make Julie his wife (later we found out her had 2 wives already). He told her that he had money and all the doors to all the top government parties and places would be opened to her. I laughed as Julie could care less about this. He told us how his father was a general in the military. Just a tidbit, there are basically 20 generals who share the GDP in Togo. The people do not really see this money as they spend it outside the country or share it only with each other. We were in a different realm that what we see each day in our area of Lome.
We danced to American music, ate well, and drinks never stopped coming to our table. It was crazy. Then they called the driver when it was time for us to go home, but then they decided to take us home themselves. The uncle left at the same time and he drove like a maniac behind our car the whole way home. It was crazy. I was never so happy to get back to Lome and my chaotic street. Julie even turned to me at one point and asked me to pray that we make it home safely. When they dropped us at our street we went to the primary school where there is a guardian just incase the uncle decided to find out where we live. We felt it was a wiser place to go. We saw our friends there too so it was nice to be in familiar surroundings.
I will see my new friend again, but it will be mellower next time.
We took motos to this nice hotel that also doubles as the Justice of The Peace. It was a courtroom but with big plush chairs rather than wooden benches. When the head official came into the room a woman clapped three times and we all stood up. He marched in and took his seat at the head bench in front of the seated bride and groom. There was a video-grapher taping the ceremony. This is the huge camera from the 80’s with a VHS tape and how can I forget the spotlight that was blinding!
Let me refresh you on this situation. I was invited to be this lady’s friend by her Togolese fiancée one day outside the American Embassy, but I’d only spoken to her on the phone a few times and never met her. She asked if I’d come to the wedding and I know that she is really far from home, so I said yes. Literally, Julie and I were the only other white people beside her. Needless to say we had to be in all the pictures for this reason. It was comical, but fun and she was really nice.
The ceremony was in French and from what Julie said it was not vows, but the official spoke the laws of Togo about the duties of a man and the duties of a woman and what each had to do now that they were married. There wasn’t anything about love or till death do you part. At one part the official even asked the husband if he wanted to have other wives because he had to state it then, for the paperwork of course, during the ceremony. In all fairness he asked the lady too and once it was translated for her she said no also.
We were taken in the groom’s brother’s car to another hotel for more pictures and then to the house. Let me pause and tell you that it was like we left Africa for a few hours. The house was amazing. They even have 3 extra bedrooms and invited us to stay with them. This house was posh by L.A. standards. Then the brother’s house is in the back of their property and the sister’s house is next door. The family compound was amazing! The rooftop was flat and the reception was held up there. The brother and the uncle sat with us. The brother’s wife didn’t sit with us as she had to tend their son and waited hand and foot on her husband too. She even came and fed him at one point. He danced with Julie and I. I felt bad for the wife. Then the uncle basically wanted to make Julie his wife (later we found out her had 2 wives already). He told her that he had money and all the doors to all the top government parties and places would be opened to her. I laughed as Julie could care less about this. He told us how his father was a general in the military. Just a tidbit, there are basically 20 generals who share the GDP in Togo. The people do not really see this money as they spend it outside the country or share it only with each other. We were in a different realm that what we see each day in our area of Lome.
We danced to American music, ate well, and drinks never stopped coming to our table. It was crazy. Then they called the driver when it was time for us to go home, but then they decided to take us home themselves. The uncle left at the same time and he drove like a maniac behind our car the whole way home. It was crazy. I was never so happy to get back to Lome and my chaotic street. Julie even turned to me at one point and asked me to pray that we make it home safely. When they dropped us at our street we went to the primary school where there is a guardian just incase the uncle decided to find out where we live. We felt it was a wiser place to go. We saw our friends there too so it was nice to be in familiar surroundings.
I will see my new friend again, but it will be mellower next time.
Moto Rides
I wish I could make a video, well may be I will later, of a moto ride around the city. You could at least see the experience minus the wind in your hair and your knuckles gripping the back bar of the bike. It would be good for you to see.
Last week Julie and I were on a mission and so we hopped on our hired motos and we were off. These particular moto guys were some real speed demons. It was like they were racing each other almost. HONESTLY!!! My moto-man would pass Julie and I would make faces and she would laugh at my white knuckles clenched to the back of the moto and my hair flying every which way. She knew I was praying. I can’t tell you how fast we were going (because all the moto speedometers are broken), but I know it was really fast, OK.
Julie on the other hand has an entirely different posture on the motos. This particular night I remember looking at her with a cigarette in her right hand as she smoked and made sure it didn’t go out in the wind. Her left hand rest relaxed on her left thigh and she looked around like she was floating down the river in a calm current. Her hair tossed a bit but she was elegant on the back of that moto and I was envious.
Down the road we realized that one of the other French teachers was riding with her boyfriend on his moto. The teacher said hello to me and then her boyfriend sped up to greet Julie and then ducked back to me. She and I can’t really talk as I don’t know French and she doesn’t know much English, but she is really friendly and I like her. She had asked me to teach her French students Old MacDonald Had A Farm last week and loves that her kids sing it now. When they ducked back to talk to me again we smiled and she stated to sing Old MacDonald Had A Farm and I joined in. We were buzzing down the main road in Lome, at high speed, singing at the top of our lungs. Her boyfriend laughed and my moto-man thought it was bizarre but we laughed as they turned off.
Later Julie did tell me how the moto was going so fast that her driver had tears rolling down his face and splashing on her face! We laugh about that night still!
Last week Julie and I were on a mission and so we hopped on our hired motos and we were off. These particular moto guys were some real speed demons. It was like they were racing each other almost. HONESTLY!!! My moto-man would pass Julie and I would make faces and she would laugh at my white knuckles clenched to the back of the moto and my hair flying every which way. She knew I was praying. I can’t tell you how fast we were going (because all the moto speedometers are broken), but I know it was really fast, OK.
Julie on the other hand has an entirely different posture on the motos. This particular night I remember looking at her with a cigarette in her right hand as she smoked and made sure it didn’t go out in the wind. Her left hand rest relaxed on her left thigh and she looked around like she was floating down the river in a calm current. Her hair tossed a bit but she was elegant on the back of that moto and I was envious.
Down the road we realized that one of the other French teachers was riding with her boyfriend on his moto. The teacher said hello to me and then her boyfriend sped up to greet Julie and then ducked back to me. She and I can’t really talk as I don’t know French and she doesn’t know much English, but she is really friendly and I like her. She had asked me to teach her French students Old MacDonald Had A Farm last week and loves that her kids sing it now. When they ducked back to talk to me again we smiled and she stated to sing Old MacDonald Had A Farm and I joined in. We were buzzing down the main road in Lome, at high speed, singing at the top of our lungs. Her boyfriend laughed and my moto-man thought it was bizarre but we laughed as they turned off.
Later Julie did tell me how the moto was going so fast that her driver had tears rolling down his face and splashing on her face! We laugh about that night still!
Potty Training & Other Puppy Fun
Potty training a 10 week old puppy is just as un-enjoyable in Africa as it is in America. I will give Roxy some credit for doing better at night and during the day. She is still deciding if it is better to do her business behind the door (so it smears all over the floor when you open the door) or in the bathroom next to the toilet. At any rate she is improving and I hope that by the end of the month she will not only be potty trained but also sitting 100% of the time she is told. I think she is at 75% right now.
I truly am a proud momma. I love how her little nub of a tail wiggles when she is happy. She seems to always want to be near and play so that is always nice to be loved. Her hair (coloring included) is like that of a Rottweiler so it doesn’t shed really and it dries super fast when she is wet. Oh and have I mentioned that she gives the best doggie kisses one has ever received. I pick her up and hold her in my arms and she nuzzles my neck and licks my chin as though I really am her momma. Julie just laughs at us.
Last weekend while I was doing my laundry (my Sunday ritual) in the yard by the pipe, Roxy wandered over. She was smelling around and I couldn’t resist dunking her in my rinse water too. The tub is big enough for her to swim in and I think she liked it after the initial look of confusion. Then of course she ran around possessed by joy and elation as she circled and ran figure eights all over the yard. After that she returned to her sandy spot to lay and roll in the sand…needless to say I apologized to Julie as our lady had just cleaned the floors the day before and Roxy, the four legged sand ball, was going to mess that up in a hurry. I will say that our cement floor is much better than carpet for potty training clean up, but in the way of human traffic it seems that the sand from the street comes in on feet and shoes and blows in on the wind more than I can even describe. The perpetual cycle of sweeping and moping the floor is a losing battle. I’m glad that Julie and I are not obsessive compulsive about cleaning as we would not be able to teach here.
Roxy has become fond of digging the top layer of sand away under our tin awning where we sit outside. She knows the sand is cool and I’m glad she is clever; however, she doesn’t see anything wrong with digging that top layer of sand onto your foot while you are sitting in the chairs. I think that she takes after Julie because when I moved into the house Julie told me how she liked to put her feet in and under the sand because it feels good. I think Roxy is taking all the best qualities from both of us. She speaks French and English already…if only Julie would speak to me in French too I might learn French.
Last week I went to Grande Marché and visited the butchers. I saw, heard, and smelt things that I think I will refrain from sharing with you. Just know it involved piles of raw meat of all types and men in stained clothes with machetes. It wasn’t the greatest thing I’ve done in Lome to say the least. I went there to get my teething puppy a few bones to cook up and let her chew on. Julie didn’t like this so much as the odor from the bones cooking was horrible and the bones don’t smell great either, but Roxy enjoys her bones so much. I feel that it’s great for us too as she chews on our fingers and toes a little less. I think that the men at Grande Marché will know me very well over this year.
I truly am a proud momma. I love how her little nub of a tail wiggles when she is happy. She seems to always want to be near and play so that is always nice to be loved. Her hair (coloring included) is like that of a Rottweiler so it doesn’t shed really and it dries super fast when she is wet. Oh and have I mentioned that she gives the best doggie kisses one has ever received. I pick her up and hold her in my arms and she nuzzles my neck and licks my chin as though I really am her momma. Julie just laughs at us.
Last weekend while I was doing my laundry (my Sunday ritual) in the yard by the pipe, Roxy wandered over. She was smelling around and I couldn’t resist dunking her in my rinse water too. The tub is big enough for her to swim in and I think she liked it after the initial look of confusion. Then of course she ran around possessed by joy and elation as she circled and ran figure eights all over the yard. After that she returned to her sandy spot to lay and roll in the sand…needless to say I apologized to Julie as our lady had just cleaned the floors the day before and Roxy, the four legged sand ball, was going to mess that up in a hurry. I will say that our cement floor is much better than carpet for potty training clean up, but in the way of human traffic it seems that the sand from the street comes in on feet and shoes and blows in on the wind more than I can even describe. The perpetual cycle of sweeping and moping the floor is a losing battle. I’m glad that Julie and I are not obsessive compulsive about cleaning as we would not be able to teach here.
Roxy has become fond of digging the top layer of sand away under our tin awning where we sit outside. She knows the sand is cool and I’m glad she is clever; however, she doesn’t see anything wrong with digging that top layer of sand onto your foot while you are sitting in the chairs. I think that she takes after Julie because when I moved into the house Julie told me how she liked to put her feet in and under the sand because it feels good. I think Roxy is taking all the best qualities from both of us. She speaks French and English already…if only Julie would speak to me in French too I might learn French.
Last week I went to Grande Marché and visited the butchers. I saw, heard, and smelt things that I think I will refrain from sharing with you. Just know it involved piles of raw meat of all types and men in stained clothes with machetes. It wasn’t the greatest thing I’ve done in Lome to say the least. I went there to get my teething puppy a few bones to cook up and let her chew on. Julie didn’t like this so much as the odor from the bones cooking was horrible and the bones don’t smell great either, but Roxy enjoys her bones so much. I feel that it’s great for us too as she chews on our fingers and toes a little less. I think that the men at Grande Marché will know me very well over this year.
07 October, 2009
Finding The Beach
Julie, my roommate, and I decided we needed to hit the private beach so we walked to the main road and caught motos. I thought all would be fine as she speaks French and I just smile and ride and pay the man at the end of the ride.
We had been riding for a short ways and this man pulls over and basically he tired to take us to the public beach. He was young and argued with Julie, who laughed and always is friendly but firm. So then the moto guys ask directions and we are off again. This happened a few more times and then my moto driver then takes the lead and takes us to another beach that you have to walk through a restaurant first. Then you pay about $4 to go to the beach or go to the saltwater pool. We thought the beach until we saw the 6 feet waves flowing in and that was clearly not what we were thinking. We then switched and went to the pool.
The water was great and we swam and floated and just enjoyed having the pool all to ourselves. We laid out and talked and I read too. It was such a nice day!
After we were done the men tried to tell us that they were doubling our fair as they waited for us. This didn’t faze Julie and she talked them down.
We had them drop us at Grande Marchet and we walked around and even went to the huge western, overpriced store. I loved that out front of the store there were bumper cars. Yes, just like at the county fair! You can have 5 minutes on the bumper cars for about $1 usd. I know that at some point this is going to be a fun thing to do.
On the way home I was continually asked if I was from the Peace Corps. Apparently I looked like I’d been living in the bush, or may be it’s just because I’m American.
Later we found out that the beach we wanted to go to was only $1 entry and you get a drink included in the price. I know there is another beach adventure in our near future!
We had been riding for a short ways and this man pulls over and basically he tired to take us to the public beach. He was young and argued with Julie, who laughed and always is friendly but firm. So then the moto guys ask directions and we are off again. This happened a few more times and then my moto driver then takes the lead and takes us to another beach that you have to walk through a restaurant first. Then you pay about $4 to go to the beach or go to the saltwater pool. We thought the beach until we saw the 6 feet waves flowing in and that was clearly not what we were thinking. We then switched and went to the pool.
The water was great and we swam and floated and just enjoyed having the pool all to ourselves. We laid out and talked and I read too. It was such a nice day!
After we were done the men tried to tell us that they were doubling our fair as they waited for us. This didn’t faze Julie and she talked them down.
We had them drop us at Grande Marchet and we walked around and even went to the huge western, overpriced store. I loved that out front of the store there were bumper cars. Yes, just like at the county fair! You can have 5 minutes on the bumper cars for about $1 usd. I know that at some point this is going to be a fun thing to do.
On the way home I was continually asked if I was from the Peace Corps. Apparently I looked like I’d been living in the bush, or may be it’s just because I’m American.
Later we found out that the beach we wanted to go to was only $1 entry and you get a drink included in the price. I know there is another beach adventure in our near future!
One Month!
I have now lived in Togo, West Africa for one month. Somehow it doesn’t seem like this has been real. I feel like this is just my life and how it is supposed to be. I teach and I love my seven 5 year olds so much. I can already see a change in them and look forward to all that they will learn this year. I have also added some consulting/teach duties in the afternoon at the primary school. I think this is also good. It has been mentioned that I might work myself into the director position if I stay. It is just a completely different world here.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that no matter how much I travel I will always be an American and I think differently. Things like time, logic, and old school manners are ingrained in me. I am trying to nap each day but I still can’t sleep, regardless of how tired I am. One day in the next few month I am hoping to actually sleep like my roommate does each afternoon rather than lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.
My house is good and my roommate and I are doing great. I feel that living with her brings out the good in both of us. The most conflict we have is when one of us think the other has bought too many groceries or has washed the dishes too many times or cooked too much. Then we pretend that we can’t understand the language (as she speaks French and I speak English) the other is speaking. Then we laugh. I love my puppy too. She is getting stronger and clueing into all kinds of things. She continues to make us laugh and everyone we know loves her too. One of my favorite things she does is when she tries to jump up in the chair until you pick her up and hold her and she cuddles up against you. She is 9 weeks old now and so I am anticipating the terrible twos and teething to begin at some point soon. Oh and I find it hilarious that she understands that we use the restroom and she has begun to also do her business there when we are not home.
I’m becoming well versed in riding all kinds of motos (motorcycles) in all kinds of condition. The key is to relax enough, but still be aware. I’ve been all over Lome and I might go to a village soon. I have to wait and see.
I do all of my laundry by hand out in the yard in plastic wash basins. I think that my clothes are cleaner and it doesn’t take as long to wash by hand as it does to use the machine at the school. Two hours for one washing machine cycle is just more than I can handle.
I have hired a French teacher whom I meet with 2 or 3 times each week and he is slowly helping me understand the language and then practice. I find it difficult because I just don’t have any vocabulary. I think I would have progressed more if I didn’t teach in English all day long and then speak English at home. The only time I need French is when I’m out and I can’t really do much aside from greet everyone. But I will learn French I am determined.
I’m still meeting people and I’ve actually been invited to a wedding this weekend. I met this American girl and she has been living with a Togolese man in the States and now they have moved here and are getting married. It will be fun to meet new people and support her, she seems like a really nice girl. My roommate and I also figure it will be fun to go to the swanky hotel they are getting married at and the food will be good too.
I’ve also managed to get in on the invite list to the Marine House at the embassy. I guess they have weekly events and so that should be an experience.
I do need to mention that I have been to some Togolese homes here in the past few weeks and it humbles me to be invited to their homes where they offer me their best. I pray over the food and water as I don’t have the heart to tell them I am afraid to eat their food. These people work or are supported by family members when they can’t find work. They have big hearts, joyful laughter, and contagious smiles. They have hardly spoken to a white person, let alone had one at their home and it’s special that I get to be with them and share their time. Some of them have electricity, some don’t. Some have a “clean pipe” for water, others don’t. Some have concrete floors, others have dirt. They all live in a close commune type of a situation, whether it is a few cement rooms that share a dirt yard with many other cement room homes with tin roofs and awnings. Others live in apartment building that are spooky dark and open into a basic room that serves as the kitchen, living room, dinning room, and bedroom. They share the coal fire (think rough mini bbq) that they use indoors. They keep it going and pass it to one another when they are finished. They cook with so little and rarely have running water that it makes my conditions seem like royalty. It is beyond me what they would think of my American home. I tried to explain what a microwave was to one friend and he was amazed and it was like I made up a story or something.
These are the best times when I am sharing someone else’s life with them and my life doesn’t even fit into the conversation.
I’ve come to grips with the fact that no matter how much I travel I will always be an American and I think differently. Things like time, logic, and old school manners are ingrained in me. I am trying to nap each day but I still can’t sleep, regardless of how tired I am. One day in the next few month I am hoping to actually sleep like my roommate does each afternoon rather than lay in bed and stare at the ceiling.
My house is good and my roommate and I are doing great. I feel that living with her brings out the good in both of us. The most conflict we have is when one of us think the other has bought too many groceries or has washed the dishes too many times or cooked too much. Then we pretend that we can’t understand the language (as she speaks French and I speak English) the other is speaking. Then we laugh. I love my puppy too. She is getting stronger and clueing into all kinds of things. She continues to make us laugh and everyone we know loves her too. One of my favorite things she does is when she tries to jump up in the chair until you pick her up and hold her and she cuddles up against you. She is 9 weeks old now and so I am anticipating the terrible twos and teething to begin at some point soon. Oh and I find it hilarious that she understands that we use the restroom and she has begun to also do her business there when we are not home.
I’m becoming well versed in riding all kinds of motos (motorcycles) in all kinds of condition. The key is to relax enough, but still be aware. I’ve been all over Lome and I might go to a village soon. I have to wait and see.
I do all of my laundry by hand out in the yard in plastic wash basins. I think that my clothes are cleaner and it doesn’t take as long to wash by hand as it does to use the machine at the school. Two hours for one washing machine cycle is just more than I can handle.
I have hired a French teacher whom I meet with 2 or 3 times each week and he is slowly helping me understand the language and then practice. I find it difficult because I just don’t have any vocabulary. I think I would have progressed more if I didn’t teach in English all day long and then speak English at home. The only time I need French is when I’m out and I can’t really do much aside from greet everyone. But I will learn French I am determined.
I’m still meeting people and I’ve actually been invited to a wedding this weekend. I met this American girl and she has been living with a Togolese man in the States and now they have moved here and are getting married. It will be fun to meet new people and support her, she seems like a really nice girl. My roommate and I also figure it will be fun to go to the swanky hotel they are getting married at and the food will be good too.
I’ve also managed to get in on the invite list to the Marine House at the embassy. I guess they have weekly events and so that should be an experience.
I do need to mention that I have been to some Togolese homes here in the past few weeks and it humbles me to be invited to their homes where they offer me their best. I pray over the food and water as I don’t have the heart to tell them I am afraid to eat their food. These people work or are supported by family members when they can’t find work. They have big hearts, joyful laughter, and contagious smiles. They have hardly spoken to a white person, let alone had one at their home and it’s special that I get to be with them and share their time. Some of them have electricity, some don’t. Some have a “clean pipe” for water, others don’t. Some have concrete floors, others have dirt. They all live in a close commune type of a situation, whether it is a few cement rooms that share a dirt yard with many other cement room homes with tin roofs and awnings. Others live in apartment building that are spooky dark and open into a basic room that serves as the kitchen, living room, dinning room, and bedroom. They share the coal fire (think rough mini bbq) that they use indoors. They keep it going and pass it to one another when they are finished. They cook with so little and rarely have running water that it makes my conditions seem like royalty. It is beyond me what they would think of my American home. I tried to explain what a microwave was to one friend and he was amazed and it was like I made up a story or something.
These are the best times when I am sharing someone else’s life with them and my life doesn’t even fit into the conversation.
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