19 February, 2010
Valentine's Day
My friend, who I call my small brother, invited me to his Valentine’s Day lunch with his Togolese friends. He prepared La Pot and soup/sauce. I have fed Theiry many many times over the past few months. He is this young guy about 20 years old, I would guess, who is from a village and he speaks English (small small). Theiry is also a soccer player and plays in Ghana on a team and here in Togo in the off season. I think he plays almost every day. He always has a smile on his face and he has a big heart. It is always fun to be around him. As a side note he checked on me almost every day when I was so sick for January and part of February. He has been a really nice friend to have around.
I brought Fanta to his lunch and he loved it. In Togo you never bring anything when you go to someone’s house. The host is expected to feed you and offer you drinks and anything else they have or even go and buy for you. Holidays can be killer for poor people.
At the beginning of lunch they asked me to pray. I was honored and so it was clearly a special day more than just being the day of love. Most of the people at the table hadn’t spoken to a white person, let alone ate La Pot with one. There were many comments and lots of laughing at the beginning of the meal. Seven of us sat around the smallest table dipping our fingers into the acumay and then into the sauce and then into our mouths. I know that this is a major violation of cleanliness codes in America, but talk about living in community. I loved every moment of it! I will confess that the acumay was especially hot this afternoon and burned my finger tips to the point of barely being able to touch the food without saying “ooo hot hot hot” and laughing. Theiry, my small brother, was so kind to make small balls of acumay and set them on the side of the dish for me to have so they wouldn’t be as hot. This is after he had blown on his own hands and licked his own fingers. I was grateful and ate well because of his thoughtfulness. We had a great time. After the dishes had been scraped clean and refilled again I was presented with some of the large chunks of the dried fish. Again the thoughtfulness was so sweet and I ate up. Throughout the entire meal I was happy we all prayed before we ate. I know this is the reason I don’t get sick when I eat with my Togolese friends.
After the meal was over Thiery and his friends began singing and clapping and it was beautiful. Talk about rejoicing after eating a good meal and being with friends. It was hysterical when he put my name into an Eway song and everyone joined in. Apparently it was a borderline love song but basically he sang Nina is the girl I will always remember. I not only took pictures but I have a few videos of them singing. I later showed him and told him that he has his own music video like on T.V. He loved it.
By far this was the best Valentine’s Day I have ever had.
I brought Fanta to his lunch and he loved it. In Togo you never bring anything when you go to someone’s house. The host is expected to feed you and offer you drinks and anything else they have or even go and buy for you. Holidays can be killer for poor people.
At the beginning of lunch they asked me to pray. I was honored and so it was clearly a special day more than just being the day of love. Most of the people at the table hadn’t spoken to a white person, let alone ate La Pot with one. There were many comments and lots of laughing at the beginning of the meal. Seven of us sat around the smallest table dipping our fingers into the acumay and then into the sauce and then into our mouths. I know that this is a major violation of cleanliness codes in America, but talk about living in community. I loved every moment of it! I will confess that the acumay was especially hot this afternoon and burned my finger tips to the point of barely being able to touch the food without saying “ooo hot hot hot” and laughing. Theiry, my small brother, was so kind to make small balls of acumay and set them on the side of the dish for me to have so they wouldn’t be as hot. This is after he had blown on his own hands and licked his own fingers. I was grateful and ate well because of his thoughtfulness. We had a great time. After the dishes had been scraped clean and refilled again I was presented with some of the large chunks of the dried fish. Again the thoughtfulness was so sweet and I ate up. Throughout the entire meal I was happy we all prayed before we ate. I know this is the reason I don’t get sick when I eat with my Togolese friends.
After the meal was over Thiery and his friends began singing and clapping and it was beautiful. Talk about rejoicing after eating a good meal and being with friends. It was hysterical when he put my name into an Eway song and everyone joined in. Apparently it was a borderline love song but basically he sang Nina is the girl I will always remember. I not only took pictures but I have a few videos of them singing. I later showed him and told him that he has his own music video like on T.V. He loved it.
By far this was the best Valentine’s Day I have ever had.
Men with Cleavers
I went to buy Roxy bones at Grande Marche and as always it was interesting. It’s amazing how I feel like I understand the main parts of this chaotic mass of people, food, trash, and of course all the things that people are selling. The butchers tend to be in one area and then there is the indoor butcher building. I know in my heart that they kill animals in that building and I could accidently see this if I venture in too far so I am always careful to not venture too far before I buy the beef bones my beautiful doggie loves.
I walked into the butcher building and I started looking for bones that were exposed from the pinkest meat as I could. I stopped and began to buy from one man. We discussed which bones I wanted, the price per kilo, and I watch as he weighed them for me. After we made it this far I then had to explain how I wanted him to cut the bones. Most people want them hacked to smithereens to make sauce/soup. I need large pieces for Roxy to chew on. Once he understood he started hacking at the bones with the enormous, razor sharp machete. This part always makes me ill so I have to walk away. One time I tried to stay and I had chips of bone flying at me and adhering to my skin and hair with cow plasma. I decided that day that I am not to girlie to walk away and return when the hacking sounds ceases. The mistake that I made this day though was I stood in front of another butcher’s table. So I ended up buying one really nice bone from him too. I figured that I wouldn’t have to return to the bone market for weeks at this rate. So all appeared good until this butcher behind me started yelling “yo-vo va” (white person come). I ignored him, he got louder, the other butchers laughed. I turned finally turned and told him I wasn’t interested. He continued to call yo-vo to me. I was getting ready to leave and I finally just turned and said “No yo-vo me.” He laughed and repeated this to me. I continued “No yo-vo, Nina” as I pointed to myself. He repeated my name. I repeated this again to make sure he got it. He did and he echoed me again. I did it a third time because we were all smiling and laughing at this point and I’m way too much a teacher for my own good. This third time ALL the butchers who had been watching me joined in. Oh yes, only in my life would I spend time teaching butchers in Lome my name and having all these men with gargantuan meat cleavers enjoying echoing my name and laugh at me when I said “no yo-vo me”.
It’s good to know that life is never dull and simple fun can always be had.
I walked into the butcher building and I started looking for bones that were exposed from the pinkest meat as I could. I stopped and began to buy from one man. We discussed which bones I wanted, the price per kilo, and I watch as he weighed them for me. After we made it this far I then had to explain how I wanted him to cut the bones. Most people want them hacked to smithereens to make sauce/soup. I need large pieces for Roxy to chew on. Once he understood he started hacking at the bones with the enormous, razor sharp machete. This part always makes me ill so I have to walk away. One time I tried to stay and I had chips of bone flying at me and adhering to my skin and hair with cow plasma. I decided that day that I am not to girlie to walk away and return when the hacking sounds ceases. The mistake that I made this day though was I stood in front of another butcher’s table. So I ended up buying one really nice bone from him too. I figured that I wouldn’t have to return to the bone market for weeks at this rate. So all appeared good until this butcher behind me started yelling “yo-vo va” (white person come). I ignored him, he got louder, the other butchers laughed. I turned finally turned and told him I wasn’t interested. He continued to call yo-vo to me. I was getting ready to leave and I finally just turned and said “No yo-vo me.” He laughed and repeated this to me. I continued “No yo-vo, Nina” as I pointed to myself. He repeated my name. I repeated this again to make sure he got it. He did and he echoed me again. I did it a third time because we were all smiling and laughing at this point and I’m way too much a teacher for my own good. This third time ALL the butchers who had been watching me joined in. Oh yes, only in my life would I spend time teaching butchers in Lome my name and having all these men with gargantuan meat cleavers enjoying echoing my name and laugh at me when I said “no yo-vo me”.
It’s good to know that life is never dull and simple fun can always be had.
Hotel Palm Beach
Last weekend I celebrated my first full week of good health in about two months with a trip to the pool. I knew one of my students, along with his mom and friends, would be there and I took a Togolese friend who wanted to learn to swim. The day before we had had the storm of all storms by Lome standards and so the dust from Hermiton was washed from the air so the sun was stronger than it has been in months. I applied sunscreen, don’t worry!
When we arrived I was shocked at all the white people who were there! I haven’t seen more than 10-20 white people in one place in six months now so seeing almost 50 of them at the pool was a little shocking. As we waited to pay there was a man at the bar chatting with me in English and he was holding a few American dollar bills! Real USD! I told him “Wow, you have US currency! I haven’t seen American currency in almost six months.” I held back asking if I could touch it and look at it up close. Oh the things that I have begun to forget or lose touch of after living here. I soon found out that The Mercy ship had come in and will be docked for about six months at the port. They are a Christian organization that travels to countries and provides medical care to the people. Apparently there are hundreds of people on the ship so I was easily mistaken for one of the Mercy Ship people all afternoon, even though I was hanging out with the few Togolese who were at the pool rather than standing in American circles in the water.
One of the things I loved watching was the interactions between the Americans, which is different than the social expectations here. Another thing that I loved was how my student, who is Lebanese and Liberian, was asked all day where he was from. When he replied Lebanon, the Americans tried not to twist their face but their confused voices could only say “Oh?” followed by dead silence for at least a minute.
I would like to report that my friend who could barely put his face in the water at the beginning of the afternoon was swimming about 10 feet on his own by the end of our time at the pool. I think spending a lot of time in the kiddie pool helped and buit his confidence. I know we will be back to practice his new swimming skills.
The biggest highlight of my afternoon was the race. One of my student’s friends is an 18 year old boy who lives down the street from him. This friend’s name is Say Please. I always smile when I say his name. He is a very nice respectful boy and it’s great that he speaks English to some extent. This kid also happens to be very fit, like most Togolese men, he has extremely little body fat and rippling muscles. Say Please and a few other Togolese guys were taking turns racing across the pool and after watching two races I couldn’t help but ask if I could get in a race too. They laughed and smiled nicely at me and said yes. I know they completely misjudged me being the small, chubby, white girl a saw no threat whatsoever to their manhood. I wasn’t quite sure how well I’d do either but I knew it’d be fun and I could at least stay up with them. It’s been a long time since I swam regularly but swimming is still in my heart strong as ever! So we raced and I blew them away! I was about one full body length ahead of both the guys. I laughed and swam around smiling and cheering. The guys had these looks of complete shock and confusion on their faces but they smiled for me too. The Togolese girls in the pool came over to give me high fives when I made it back to the shallow end. My friend just smiled and gave me the amazed look that he gives me when I do something that he never thought was possible. I laughed some more. It was like I wasn’t even on the white people’s radar. My student made sure that he told all the kids at school on Monday, so my super hero teacher status was upgraded this week too.
When we arrived I was shocked at all the white people who were there! I haven’t seen more than 10-20 white people in one place in six months now so seeing almost 50 of them at the pool was a little shocking. As we waited to pay there was a man at the bar chatting with me in English and he was holding a few American dollar bills! Real USD! I told him “Wow, you have US currency! I haven’t seen American currency in almost six months.” I held back asking if I could touch it and look at it up close. Oh the things that I have begun to forget or lose touch of after living here. I soon found out that The Mercy ship had come in and will be docked for about six months at the port. They are a Christian organization that travels to countries and provides medical care to the people. Apparently there are hundreds of people on the ship so I was easily mistaken for one of the Mercy Ship people all afternoon, even though I was hanging out with the few Togolese who were at the pool rather than standing in American circles in the water.
One of the things I loved watching was the interactions between the Americans, which is different than the social expectations here. Another thing that I loved was how my student, who is Lebanese and Liberian, was asked all day where he was from. When he replied Lebanon, the Americans tried not to twist their face but their confused voices could only say “Oh?” followed by dead silence for at least a minute.
I would like to report that my friend who could barely put his face in the water at the beginning of the afternoon was swimming about 10 feet on his own by the end of our time at the pool. I think spending a lot of time in the kiddie pool helped and buit his confidence. I know we will be back to practice his new swimming skills.
The biggest highlight of my afternoon was the race. One of my student’s friends is an 18 year old boy who lives down the street from him. This friend’s name is Say Please. I always smile when I say his name. He is a very nice respectful boy and it’s great that he speaks English to some extent. This kid also happens to be very fit, like most Togolese men, he has extremely little body fat and rippling muscles. Say Please and a few other Togolese guys were taking turns racing across the pool and after watching two races I couldn’t help but ask if I could get in a race too. They laughed and smiled nicely at me and said yes. I know they completely misjudged me being the small, chubby, white girl a saw no threat whatsoever to their manhood. I wasn’t quite sure how well I’d do either but I knew it’d be fun and I could at least stay up with them. It’s been a long time since I swam regularly but swimming is still in my heart strong as ever! So we raced and I blew them away! I was about one full body length ahead of both the guys. I laughed and swam around smiling and cheering. The guys had these looks of complete shock and confusion on their faces but they smiled for me too. The Togolese girls in the pool came over to give me high fives when I made it back to the shallow end. My friend just smiled and gave me the amazed look that he gives me when I do something that he never thought was possible. I laughed some more. It was like I wasn’t even on the white people’s radar. My student made sure that he told all the kids at school on Monday, so my super hero teacher status was upgraded this week too.
Africa Welcomes You
From the 21st of December to the 7th of February sickness has plagued my life. First it was food poisoning/running stomach for my first week in Abidjan. Then I arrived home in Lome only to contract a sty in my right eye. So I began the month of resembling Egor rather than a woman. My eye puffed up and the infection claimed two weeks and drained me. I think I had a three day respite before the infection inside my nose began festering and within a few days made my nose swell to almost double its natural size. I WAS Rudolph the Red Nose Reindeer. I could not touch my nose because of the pain but if I did bump it I felt it in my forehead, sinuses, and teeth. My nose was numb with pain. Mind you this is all after I’d taken the Ibuprofen regularly.
Then the volcanoes, as I lovingly refer to them, began sprouting on the outside of my nose. Yes, these were horrific explosions of puss and green things that resembled stones. This left huge crater like sores where the volcanoes were. I was positive that I would be scared for life. The French doctor I saw was not like the other doctors who prescribe the shotgun approach to medication. This woman thought I could manage this with green clay facial mud stuff and the 5 times a day cleaning and anti-biotic cream. When I asked her what she thought it was she casually told me that it was a staph caucus infection. OK. I remember thinking “gosh I guess staph infections in Africa aren’t that serious” as she wasn’t that concerned. I had gone to see her for a few things and she thought that the other tests (from the crazy African lab I had to go to for blood work) showed that I needed meds for another problem. Meanwhile, the pain grew so I couldn’t sleep, eat, or bear the thought of people looking at me. My students would tell me “Nina, it’s coming out. Wipe your nose.” Like it was normal. I’m grateful for the forgiveness of five year olds!
After my medicine for the other problem was finished I waited a few days and just bought medication at the pharmacy. This is no problem here as prescriptions are more recommendations and you don’t need one to buy meds, not even narcotics. They helped but the infection was on the run after my constant cleaning, anti-biotic cream, and who can forget the clay masks. It truly is amazing what came out of my nose and the relief that I felt. I’ve now finished my meds. I continue to clean and treat the sores but the size of my nose is normal and I have lived pain free for six days! I can wiggle my nose, touch my nose (although there are still some dead areas), and even blow my nose with no pain.
This experience has truly made me grateful for my health and the things that you just expect to work or be there (ie. your nose). I hope that I’ll be healthy for a while now. I do have to add this one encounter. My guardian one morning, as we shared tea, said “Oh my sister, do not worry Africa welcomes you.” This comment made me laugh my way through this infection and lightened the mood when people wanted to know what my problem with my nose was. I’m also thankful for people who don’t care what I look like and just like me and wanted to care for me when I need help.
Then the volcanoes, as I lovingly refer to them, began sprouting on the outside of my nose. Yes, these were horrific explosions of puss and green things that resembled stones. This left huge crater like sores where the volcanoes were. I was positive that I would be scared for life. The French doctor I saw was not like the other doctors who prescribe the shotgun approach to medication. This woman thought I could manage this with green clay facial mud stuff and the 5 times a day cleaning and anti-biotic cream. When I asked her what she thought it was she casually told me that it was a staph caucus infection. OK. I remember thinking “gosh I guess staph infections in Africa aren’t that serious” as she wasn’t that concerned. I had gone to see her for a few things and she thought that the other tests (from the crazy African lab I had to go to for blood work) showed that I needed meds for another problem. Meanwhile, the pain grew so I couldn’t sleep, eat, or bear the thought of people looking at me. My students would tell me “Nina, it’s coming out. Wipe your nose.” Like it was normal. I’m grateful for the forgiveness of five year olds!
After my medicine for the other problem was finished I waited a few days and just bought medication at the pharmacy. This is no problem here as prescriptions are more recommendations and you don’t need one to buy meds, not even narcotics. They helped but the infection was on the run after my constant cleaning, anti-biotic cream, and who can forget the clay masks. It truly is amazing what came out of my nose and the relief that I felt. I’ve now finished my meds. I continue to clean and treat the sores but the size of my nose is normal and I have lived pain free for six days! I can wiggle my nose, touch my nose (although there are still some dead areas), and even blow my nose with no pain.
This experience has truly made me grateful for my health and the things that you just expect to work or be there (ie. your nose). I hope that I’ll be healthy for a while now. I do have to add this one encounter. My guardian one morning, as we shared tea, said “Oh my sister, do not worry Africa welcomes you.” This comment made me laugh my way through this infection and lightened the mood when people wanted to know what my problem with my nose was. I’m also thankful for people who don’t care what I look like and just like me and wanted to care for me when I need help.
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