Dinner Party Entertainment

For the election it was safest that I stay in the house and out of sight as much as possible. My friends felt that since I stayed home and didn’t travel to Ghana or anywhere then I should stay at home for many many painstaking days. The only silver lining was that some of my Togolese friends stopped by to check on me, others called, and I kept busy so time didn’t drag on. Some of the highlights from my five days of house arrest were; watch movies, trim the overgrown poky bushes, school work, painting Roxy’s toenails sparkling pink, and planning and pulling off the best dinner party that I’ve ever had.

I invited my friends who were around still, most were Togolese. Then I planned to make beef shish kabobs, which they call brochettes here, with salad, rice, and Jello for desert. Now please keep in mind that a dinner like this is TONS easier in America, but my friends are worth it and plus I had plenty of time to kill. The morning before the election seclusion I went to the boarder market and bought beef that was freshly killed. Now I bought meat from the man with the cleanest of the dirty fly ridden butcher stands. I was grateful that he cut my meat from the pieces that were under all the pieces that the flies were infesting. The rest of the prep took place in my kitchen that is 20 times hotter than it is outside in the sun so that wasn’t the funfest of my day only a part of the journey. I planned to cook the brochettes on the fire like bar-b-que that the Togolese cook all their food on, so I borrowed one from a friend. This little thing is maybe an eight inch square and I had to be creative and make a rack for the brochettes, that were put together on six inch sticks that were whittled haphazardly. I bought 20 of these sticks or skewers as I like to think of them for less than 25 cents. Oh and have I mentioned there is no charcoal lighter fluid here. The charcoal is just chard tree branches that you have to light and fan until they are nice and red. Most Togolese cook on the open flame with their pot right in the coals and they like the flame rather than the coals. Oh on a side note the irons that the tailors and people use on their clothes are also coal powered. So before my friends came I began huddling over this little fire in the yard with Roxy observing and ready to help, so I tied her runner. I fanned my little fire with a leaf from my tree and sat and cooked for a good 45 minutes or possibly an hour. When my first two friend came they sat in the yard, in the dark and kept me company. They even snapped a few photos that capture this scene pretty darn well. I hope I can share with you below.

When my friend arrived, on Africa time 45 minutes late, we all greeted each other and they came in and made themselves at home. I told them to go eat but they just sat there. My guardian/little brother told me ‘No no no Nina. This be Africa. You must go get food for them.”
I almost crapped my pants. I had not just spent all day preparing and cooking for these people and then they come late and expect me to serve them! Buy that time we were all out in the yard again as I was checking on the last of the shish kabobs. I looked at them with all the love in my heart and pointed in a big arch that covered my yard and house and said “Oh no my friends, I just cooked all this great food for you and will not plate your food for you. You have come to America tonight and if I say go eat, you better get some food before it is all gone. Now please go eat.” They looked at me and then each other in shock and then smiled and went and got their food that was laid out buffet style. I was happy to see they enjoyed their food so much. One guy looked at me and then to the others and in Eway said that he didn’t realize that I could cook this well. They all laughed and translated to me. We all laughed more and I told them that I am a very talented person, of course I can cook well. My girlfriends didn’t show up so it was me, my Australian neighbor friend/parent of a student, my guardian/little brother, and three other friends. It was ok as we all enjoyed each other, the food, the music, and after the food was finished I showed them pictures that I’ve taken in the last few weeks. Most everyone was in a few pictures so they loved that. I also showed the Valentine’s video I took of one of them singing in Eway. We all had a great time. Some people left after that and the rest of us had a dance party.

I think this evening was so much fun and I loved it so much. All of them thanked me but as I’ve seen them over the remaining days of my house arrest they have made sure to tell me over and over how much they liked coming over and eating the food I made. Even in the midst of the election and the hard times that follow I think there is still room to enjoy the people around you and smile a little bit.

I Know Everything

The day after the famous dinner party at my house I was eating Jello with Theirry. He came by to listen to my radio and check on me when I found out he’d never eaten Jello before. I went and got the bowl from the fridge and when I made the bowl wiggle he giggled and backed away like a little kid. He liked it when he tried it but I made sure to show him how you can wiggle it on a spoon and in between your fingers too. This made him laugh more and more and then he would tell me to stop stop as he got up or leaned away from the bowl. This made me laugh too. The best part was when he paused and said “Oh Nina, you know everything in the world.” I thanked him but asked why he said that. He replied “Because you make the Jello.” Then I laughed so much! So my friends if you can make Jello then you know everything in the world. He then made me promise when he takes me to his village that he will make the Jello for his mother and father. I told him that I would, no problem.

This was one of those special moments that I have every so often here. I love sharing and laughing with my friends.

Election Day

For safety I stayed home on Election Day. It’s very hard to stay home all day when you have to. I woke up at my usual 6:30am time and fed the dog and had coffee with my guardian when he was done cleaning the yard. We talked about the election a little and how he would go vote at 7:30 and then return to spend the day with me and make sure I was kept safe. I hired him about five weeks ago so that he would be around before the campaigning, during the campaigning, for the election and then after the election. He’s been like a little brother to me since I got here, but these last few weeks of him sleeping in my yard and running errands for me and just being around a lot more in general makes me wonder how empty my mornings and evenings will be without him. His time will be over mostly because he is a footballer and needs to return to his team in Ghana for their season.
This morning before he left I gave him my camera and asked him if he would take some pictures so I could see what voting was like in Togo. He took a few pictures but then got worried the policemen would not like him doing that. The pictures are great and I’m grateful for them.

My day has created a antsy feeling but there isn’t much I can do now is there. I’m just waiting this one out with the BBC Africa reporting on Climate Change.

Full Moon

When we talk about the full moon we refer to the ocean’s tide, Werewolves and crazy behavior of the children at school. Well, I think I have been seriously affected by the full moon. I mean this in all seriousness because yesterday I had the worst day and I can’t believe some of the stuff that actually happened to me and how I behaved in response. I’m glad it’s in the past. Part of me thought that I should just skip writing about this but then I thought that the reason I have this blog is to share the good, the bad, and the ugly this year. This is the ugly.

I began the day with a trip to the bank. This was a simple check cashing excursion but the bank loves to run me around. I asked at one part of the bank and was told to go to the other area to cash the check. Then after I waited in line for 15 minutes the lady tells me to go to the other part of the bank where I just was. Mind you she is not nice and is telling me this in French. I then explain in English that the other part of the bank sent me to her and last time I cashed my check it was at this area. She understands and responds in French. Later, I found this comical. Then the woman behind me sticks her ideas in and tries to take me passport and check to look at them. I grab them back and she and the teller begin a very typical loud exchange in Eway about what a horrible yovo I am because I won’t let this lady just take my pay check and passport for her personal examination. I could see other people ahead of me cashing checks and in the line next to me so I know that this is just giving me the run around, so I hold my ground and stand there. The teller then gives in and takes my passport and check back and proceeds to send my papers for approval, this is more than likely just to make me wait more and save face. She tells me to go sit down as she points far away from her. This is another typical thing that I’ve experienced. When I have actually gone and obeyed politely I am always forgotten for an hour or more so I refuse. I am just pushed aside and she helps the people behind me. This is no problem as other people wait next to the teller window all the time and no one seems to care about privacy in any area of their lives here. It’s amazing how I feel that I’ve been impressed by the culture here. I waited for about 20 more minutes and then I had my passport and cash in hand and I was out of there. This was a record, 35 minutes to cash my check, normally it’s at least an hour an a half.


I dropped off my money at my house and met my friend/guardian because we were off to go shopping at the market. We both were looking forward to this as it was my first day of my five days off for the election, not to mention it was the big market day for the week. We had to take a moto then catch a taxi. The taxi driver was yelling at us before we even got into the taxi and I wish I had just waved him on. We told him the destination and negotiated the price, which was way too high but he wouldn’t budge and my friend didn’t want to wait for another taxi, so we were off with the usual picking up and dropping of other passengers. Then we passed the road to turn to and I said no we needed to turn. I was brushed off and he kept going. Again this should have been a red flag. The police stopped him at a checkpoint to make sure he had insurance and then we continued. He demanded his fare as he was driving and he gave us change. Mind you he already ripped me off with the fare and I was not pleased that he was making us pay the fare and a half because I was white. Then he pulled over and told us we were at the market. It was not the market I was going to. The driver basically told us too bad and get out. He would take us for more money. I refused to get out of the taxi. He then continued to get mad and yell that we had to leave the taxi or he would lock us in the taxi. We explained he can’t just take us to the wrong place and then leave us or make us pay more to take us where we asked to go. He didn’t care. He rolled up the windows of the taxi and locked the doors with us inside. I sat there. I told him through the closed window for the second time to either take us to the market I asked to go to or give me back the portion of the fare he overcharged me. He refused. I waited. He got antsy because he was losing time and customers. He then tried to physically pull me out of the taxi and then my friend as he yelled at us. I told him not to touch me and repeated what he needed to do to make this right. He refused. I was tired and so I reached up and just took my coins back from his tray and tried to get out of the taxi. The taxi man didn’t like this so he shoved me back in the taxi and grabbed me and my purse. He was shaking me and yelling and I told him to let go and he refused and pulled harder. So I bit him on the hand. I didn’t break skin but I left a small mark. He let go and yelled again. He got out of taxi and refused to let us out again and he began driving us. I asked my friend where we were going. I wasn’t worried and I was happy that we were moving. Well, the taxi man took us to the police station. I got out and said that this was ridiculous and began walking toward the road. The taxi man then grabbed me again and pulled and pushed on me while he was yelling. I told him to stop, he didn’t, I pushed him back. He didn’t like that and yelled more. I realized that we were getting a crowed and the men who gathered were concerned more for me than this man. He reached around my friend as we were walking into the police station and pushed and jabbed at my back again so I turned and hit him on the side of the head because no man will ever manhandle me and not get something back. I had had it with this crazy man. The taxi man pointed his finger in my face and told me to be careful in French. I pointed my finger in his face and made and angry face while I yelled the same thing back at him. He got the idea and stopped touching me after that. There was no need to act like he acted and I will never be a docile woman. I know that Togolese women never put up with crap like this and I won’t either.

When we got into the police station I calmly and politely said I needed to speak with an officer who spoke English because we had a problem with this taxi driver. We were taken back to an office. I walked in, greeted and introduced myself to the police officer at the desk. Mind you there was another man who he was helping but the man didn’t seem to mind that he was bummed out of turn as he got to sit and listen and participate in our drama. No one in Togo ever just sits and listens, they join right in with their opinion and ideas readily even if they haven’t heard any of the story.
I was asked to sit down and I relayed my story and posed the question how can a man be allowed to treat any woman like this in Togo? Then the taxi driver told his story very dramatically with much hand gesturing and yelling and pointing. My favorite part was how he played up how I hurt him so badly when I bit him. I had to stifle my laugh because he wasn’t so big and tough in this office. The officer asked my friend about the stories and they talked for awhile. I was asked what my name was and so I felt like making a statement so I whipped out my passport and kindly told him my name. the officer held my passport and examined it and copied down my information. I never carry my passport but because I had been to the bank I forgot to take it out of my bag. Theirry, my friend, and I agree that it was this that saved us more problems as Theirry doesn’t have an official ID, but they took his word for his information on account he was with me and I had my US passport. The taxi man was sent out for his papers and Theirry began speaking to the officer again, telling him how rough the man got with me and even demonstrated pulling and grabbing at me. I then added to the demonstration how I bit him. The officer almost fell out of his chair but was smiling. Theirry and I kind of laughed too.
All of the men conversed in Eway for a while and the decision to send us to the hospital was made. I politely questioned this and explained I might have been bruised but I didn’t need to visit the hospital. I felt the taxi man didn’t need anything but Ibuprofen and some ice but Theirry told me to be quite. Then the officer told us that it was Theirry’s fault because there were two markets with the same name and he should have cleared that up. Togolese will always blame the easiest person rather than the correct person. Theirry also had to give the taxi man the money that I’d taken out of the tray. I was told by the officer that I should never touch a taxi driver’s money tray ever again. He also added that biting was dangerous as he gave me a sly smile. The officer said he would call me later if he needed anything. I thanked him and Theirry had me thank him a few more times. Then we left. As we walked out of the front of the police station I noticed that the holding jail cell was more of a 10 x 10 fence cube with about seven men locked inside. I thanked God that Theirry and I weren’t put in there. If we had gotten a corrupt police man I might have been locked up until I bribed my way out. We walked down the road to find a taxi, as our taxi man had gone out and dramatically told all the other taxi men how the yovo stole his money and bit him. I didn’t think that we needed to take another taxi from this place because I momentarily had a reputation.

As we walked down the road we decided that we were hungry and it was about lunch time. Before we found our restaurant Theirry was walking and held my hand (something that everyone does men and men, women and women, men and women) and he told me how today he saw that I fight back. He laughed because I’m always so nice and happy, but this man was not right in what he did but he saw I could fight back. I laughed too but I didn’t like that situation. I told him how I didn’t like it when people act like that or how I felt I needed to act either. I was just happy it was over and we were going to eat and go to the market. We stopped and ate at a roadside restaurant and I had the best Fufu that I’ve ever eaten in my life! It was so fresh and nice and melted in my mouth with all the flavors from the sauce. I’ve never finished all my Fufu because it’s so filling but I made sure I ate all of this because it was so nice. I told Thierry that we need to remember this place and then on a special day we could all come back and eat there.

We proceeded to take another shared taxi and then motos to the market. This time I made sure that I was firm with directing where I wanted to go and we got there no problem. The moto men kind of laughed that I was the one guiding them to the market and the specific entrance I wanted too. Theirry plain laughed out loud telling me that I really did know Africa.

The market was fun and I got a new dress and some toys for the kids a school. We returned home and Theirry burned the leaves in my yard. Another friend stopped by and watched a movie while I went to the vegetable stand. I came home and began cooking but was called back to the school. I returned and then this friend started asking me about things that were on my table, including the phone credit he had bought for me (with my money) the other day. When I couldn’t find it he started accusing Theirry and getting worked up. I told him to stop because it was impossible that Theirry took the credit. I wanted him to shut up so I said that Roxy probably ate it and to let it go. In my heart I knew that this friend took it because he was the only one who knew I had the credit on my table and he was pointing out that it was gone so someone else would be blamed. I also found out that he wasn’t watching the movie on my computer but rather messing around with the setting. This irritated me, especially after the morning I had. I had to explain to him how I trusted him and he lost the privilege of coming to my house and watching movies on my computer. Later, my other friend got involved and told me that he would find out who took the credit but it was my fault that the settings had been changed on my computer because I shouldn’t have let him use it. My response was that if you let someone watch movies on your T.V. and they change all the settings on your remote control it is rude and not acceptable. This is the same kind of thing. OH BOY! I also added that what is the difference blaming it on other people? I was the one who had to replace the credit no matter if we blamed someone or not.

I’ve been told over and over that you trust no one here. It’s just like what I was told in Los Angeles. The big problem I have with that is if you trust no one you miss out on possible deep relationships. Those are the best kind. Unfortunately, when you open yourself to deep relationships sometimes people rip you off in various ways. It’s ok to be hurt but to miss the opportunity is not ok with me. So I was hurt, but it’s ok because love fixes that hurt.

It was after this that I walked up the street to sit at my friend’s store and relax a little. I looked up and the full moon was smiling down on me and I laughed. I realized that I normally point out everyone else’s crazy behavior during the full moon, but I am not immune to it either. I was the one acting crazy and thank goodness it isn’t permanent!

Election Watch

Campaigning began two weeks ago. This means that there are posters plastered Hollywood promotion style on every light post, building, and cement wall. Then the opposing side comes and rips down the posters and puts up their own. There are billboards, cars with posters plastered to them (mind you these are new SUVs from America, not average Togo cars) and ads on TV too. By far the best are the parades. The current president hires dancers, marching bands, and people to parade around areas in Lome for 1000 CFA ($2.00 USD) or 2000 CFA ($4.00 USD) for the entire day. There are plenty of people in these parades. Not only is the economy horrible and people need money, but this is a really easy job. I was out and there was a car with a loudspeaker taped (scotched as we call it because of the tape brand Scotch). The man inside was recruiting people to ride in the campaign cars for the current president and it was a free ride to wherever they wanted to go. The opposition, however, can’t afford to pay people to campaign so they get two or three motos and put palm branches (their symbol) on the back of the moto like a 10 foot peacock tail. Then the riders wear yellow t-shirts and drive fast up and down the streets blowing whistles and yelling. Or there might be a group of ladies in the same yellow t-shirts walking passing out flyers with a picture of the opposition’s man on it. These ladies will sing and chat with people as they walk.

I have heard three to five parades every day for these past weeks, but they have grown in intensity and frequency as the election approaches. I haven’t actually seen the parades because it’s safer to stay indoors and not show interest in one party or another. I’m not a citizen, I can’t vote, I’m neutral when I talk too Togolese. When I speak to Westerners we all know that change would be good, but the fact that there is so much governmental money stuck in the pockets of governmental people and the president of France is very supportive of this administration (since this president is the son of the man who ran Togo for over 30 years and died in office). I know that change or revolution is necessary, but the violence, bloodshed, and damage that is coupled with this kind of change would be heart wrenching. I will say that I’m so envious of how all the Togolese take seriously that their vote counts and I have not met one person who will not vote. In America we take voting for granted and our votes are counted, whereas here there are risks of tampering with the votes.

There are interesting things that I can say about this government like the former president (this president’s father) had something like 11 to 19 wives. The government still pays for each wives’ mansion, supports her each month, her children’s schooling, and all other costs. They each had several children and they are not living simple lives either. Another fun fact is that there are around five generals and they pocket over ¼ of the nations money. An example of this type of skimming is Togo received 6 million dollars to repair roads in the past year. Half of that immediately went into the pockets of governmental people. Another half went toward lower government officials. In the end there was only around 1½ million to actually do the road repairs. Clearly, there wasn’t enough to do what was needed and most of the work was done so slowly that it is ridiculous. It has taken them over 6 months to pave the beach road that runs through Lome. Lastly, the military will vote 3 days before the election and the person who mentioned this to me basically said that this is so it will be easier to change all of their votes.

I decided after talking to many Togolese and Expats that I really didn’t need to leave Togo for the election. I would love to take a trip mind you, but if I return and there are complications with the boarders then I don’t want to be stranded and the boarder is the sticky part. I spent a few days shopping for food and whatnot and brought some work home from school. So I’m set to stay home for several days. I will stay home the day of the election and then as soon as they announce the results I need to stay inside too, because this is when problems with break out if there are going to be problems. I know that for the last 2 elections there have been major rioting and whatnot, especially in opposition areas (like where I live), but this time I think there has been a lot of work to emphasize no violence. My Togolese friends are going to stop by and check on me and three very good friends are going to come and stay with me in my empty bedrooms for a few days to make sure there are no problems at my house.

I personally feel that this, like all election periods everywhere in the world, is special and exciting time because there is potential for growth and change. I hope that whoever is elected will bring more change and opportunity for the average person. This is history being made for Togo and I’m honored to be here observing, even if I’m at home. I’m praying for peace too.

Jeans

I have decided after losing over 35lbs. I needed to buy some new pants and stop rolling and pinning my pants ever so creatively each morning. One of my friends, Sylvanus, said he would come with me. Sylvanus is a 19 year old kid who finished school in Ghana, where his family is from, and so he doesn’t do much except play basketball. I met him through my best friend here and he is a trustworthy and kind person so I don’t mind him coming around or going to the market with me. I think that his presence makes my friends feel better when I go out or to the market. None of my friends, Togolese included, like that I go places or to the market alone.
Sylvanus and I walked from one end of Grande Marchette to the other in a zigzag pattern. To be honest though we only covered the major streets. I don’t really go into the allies or side areas that often. We finally came to the jeans area. Mind you most sellers of similar items group together in an area. So I began looking at the piles of jeans at one vender and within 45 seconds I was bombarded by ten men holding jeans for me to look at. There are all the different shades and most of the jeans are either huge or too small. I just had to point and say “too small”, “too short”, “too big”, “I no like”. I did come prepared…I wore a skirt with leggings so I could just lift up my skirt and try on the pants right there on the street. I found a few pairs I tried on and then I found THE PAIR I wanted. I tried them on with about 14 men gathered around watching and holding more jeans for me. When I had them on they all told me how nice they looked on me. Sylvanus made sure to ask me, like he was my dad, ‘Are you sure they fit and they are not too tight?’ I assured him that they fit just right. Not only did they fit but the brand was Super Star. I knew these pants were made for me.
I asked how much they were. The man told me that they were 7000 CFA ($14.00 USD). I realize that in America this might be ok, but in Togo only crazy rich yovos pay this price and I we all know I’m making so little I should have my head examined. The average pair of used jeans is 2000 CFA ($4.00 UDS). I paid this for my first pair of jeans when I first got here and Togolese respect that I wasn’t ripped off at the market. So I began bartering with the man. I got him down to 4000 and I began walking away. I talked to another man about some jeans when another man came up to me holding the Super Star jeans. He was not nice and he told me that the jeans were 7000 CFA and he worked hard all day out in the sun all day and I was white and had lots of money so I should just give him the money for the jeans. This man rubbed me the wrong way with his stereotype of white people. I looked at him and I could feel myself boiling inside. I told him he didn’t know me. I live here too and he could forget the jeans because he wasn’t a nice person and there was no way I’d buy from him. I turned and walked away.

This is something that I’ve encountered quite a bit lately. I don’t know why after six months I’m feeling it more. I have this suspicion that it’s because I know that I will never fully be accepted or fit in to this place, no matter how great my friends are or how long I’m here. It’s a sad thought because I really love it here and can see myself being here for quite some time. If I stay I need to just accept this aspect of culture. In America we have close-minded people who judge people too. I normally observe it rather than experience it firsthand and it sucks my friends.