Lately I have been reading the Patrick MacManus book I brought with me. I think that it’s been a good laugh and at least made me think about America more. I know as the days go on I feel a little more tense about tickets and finances and transportation and returning in general. I hope it all goes ok.
I had a dream last night that I was hired as a teacher in America. I remember I was walked into a staff meeting and introduced and it was a very cold feeling. I was dressed in my same old oversized clothes I wear here, while everyone had nice clothes that fit them. I was shown my class of delinquent high schoolers that oozed potential if I could just show them how to fix their flat tires and climb mountains. I remember that my classroom in my dream didn’t really have walls but more like cubical dividers in a gym. Then I was teaching. I was really teaching in my dream and I was having that magic where I had them and they were getting it. I felt great. I missed that feeling and wished I had it here. Then I was overcome with a feeling of not belonging and wanted to be in Africa more than anything. I felt like I was just pretending to fit in America, but I am living and being here.
So this summer I will spend three weeks that will fly by. I won’t see everyone as I need to just relax a little. I hope that at Christmas I will go all over and see everyone with Richard.
12 May, 2010
Photocopies
Photocopies involve logic believe it or not! We were recently trying to make a few simple photocopies. The money wrench that I threw into the mix was I had my own cardstock that I wanted the few pages printed on. So we pull into the first place. The girl tells me that instead of 10 francs it was going to be 100 francs because I brought my own paper. “What!!!!” I explained, wanting to you a few explicative words. I then went through the whole explanation to her and my friend. If I bring my own paper I am not buying paper from her but only the ink in copy machine. She told me then that was not how it worked. She told me that it was simple to understand and my problem (have I mentioned that there is great customer service here) was that the original was 2cm taller than the card stock and so that was not possible because the papers where not the exact same size. Then she elaborated that I brought thicker paper so she was going to charge me more because my paper is heavy where her paper is thin. I couldn’t grasp this, or may be I just refused to so I went through this whole explanation again and refuted her argument in great detail. She laughed at me and told me my paper would cost me more because it was thicker even though I brought it. I walked out with my card stock mumbling under my breath about the failure some people have to listen to logic in what others have to say. Mind you I’ve had similar experiences with Kinkos employees in Hollywood so I know it’s not an African thing.
The second place looked at me and said it was impossible to print on my paper. The third place refused as someone had paper like mine and it broke the machine when they put it in the paper tray. I could feel the determination rising within me that we must find a place that can do this. I know it’s possible and at a reasonable price. The fourth place said it was not possible. Then the fifth place wanted 250 Francs. Hello that is straight insanity! So we stand there and talk more to the man and the woman she finally gives in and prints them up for us at 50 Franc each. This is livable. I even gave her the tip that you should load it from the side and not in the tray. She was thankful for the photocopy advise. We bonded I guess you could say. I was relieved that this escapade was over and now we could focus on a more imperative adventure like finding colico (yam potato wedges that are fried and served with hot peppe) my favorite treat.
The second place looked at me and said it was impossible to print on my paper. The third place refused as someone had paper like mine and it broke the machine when they put it in the paper tray. I could feel the determination rising within me that we must find a place that can do this. I know it’s possible and at a reasonable price. The fourth place said it was not possible. Then the fifth place wanted 250 Francs. Hello that is straight insanity! So we stand there and talk more to the man and the woman she finally gives in and prints them up for us at 50 Franc each. This is livable. I even gave her the tip that you should load it from the side and not in the tray. She was thankful for the photocopy advise. We bonded I guess you could say. I was relieved that this escapade was over and now we could focus on a more imperative adventure like finding colico (yam potato wedges that are fried and served with hot peppe) my favorite treat.
Voo Doo
Given all the reading and information that is available about voo doo in the neighboring country and Togo I knew that I would some how see evidence of it first hand during my stay here in Lome. There is the very large voo doo market on the other side of town that I thought I might venture through once and be done just to see the freakish and evil things that lerk there but I have since changed my mind after seeing that voo doo is something that people here, even church people, take seriously.
I have seen women in traditional voo doo attire walking the roads or standing on the side of the road watching people. These women are usually dressed in a plain brown wrap or panya from their belly down and are topless. They have a half if a gord on their head and they have ash smeared in symbols, mostly lines and circles, all over their face, arms, back, chest, and legs.
One very dark night I was walking home from my friend’s house who live three houses down the street and I saw two children walking toward me. I didn’t see at first that they were dressed in voo doo attire but was more concerned about the little boy holding the plastic bag over his head. They just stared at me and it was really spooky. I prayed the rest of the way home.
Another time I was at Richard’s apartment and we heard a parade outside. We went to the window and saw people dressed in all kinds of traditional dress and then a man dresses in an African version of a mascot outfit jumping around and yelling at people above the noise of the drums and bells. I asked and Richard explained to me that it was the voo doo men making a ceremony. I had this yucky feeling all over. I was glad that I saw it from the second story of the building and not up close.
There have been a few times that Richard and I have seen people around us or people come and cause problems between us and someone has mentioned that there was voo doo involved. I didn’t take it too seriously and knew that we would all be ok, but these people and even Richard we suspect that voo doo was trying to work its wickedness in our lives due to a few nasty people around us.
Recently things have been great but I found a scorpion in my bathroom. It was brown and was about three or four inches long. I panicked a little, never having seen one that was not behind glass and might pose a threat to me, but luckily my friend david was there and when I yelled “oh my gosh there is a scorpion in my bathroom” he kindly and quickly replied “well, quick take off your shoe and kill it.” He never came to investigate or check, what a true friend. I took off my shoe, smashed, and then flushed the vanquished beast. I was proud of myself but hoped that there wasn’t a scorpion season as Roxy loves her spiders, geckos, lizards, birds, and all other crawly things to chase. This could be a dreadful thing to chase. I told Richard, ever so proudly, about killing the scorpion and then about my concerns about Roxy. Richard grew very concerned and wanted to know why I didn’t call him and where the body was and warned me that it was only the work of a voo doo man that brought this creature into my house. He told me I needed to be careful and watch out because someone meant harm for me.
Elizabeth felt that may be it entered through a hole in the concrete and I was thinking that sounded a bit more realistic but if one came would more come? I check each room when I enter and don’t leave as much laundry or stuff on the floor. I also am never barefoot anymore.
Then two weeks after this dramatic killing of the scorpion I found yet another, smaller scorpion, in the bathroom as I went for my middle of the night potty run. I had to wake myself up more before I attempted to kill this one as I thought I might miss and then get my just desserts. So I woke up a bit more and ground this one into the floor then flushed the goo. The next day Richard was not pleased that the voo doo man had done this again and I had not called him to inspect the body or at least saved it for him to look at. I was a little disappointed that there was no “good job honey” involved in his speech but he is the African and has seen Africa more than me. I promised the next one I would save for him and he was satisfied. I just pray I don’t have that opportunity.
My conclusion is that like anywhere evil comes in different shapes and sizes. I don’t think I want the slightest to do with this evil and will leave it out of my life and pray against it because God is always greater.
I have seen women in traditional voo doo attire walking the roads or standing on the side of the road watching people. These women are usually dressed in a plain brown wrap or panya from their belly down and are topless. They have a half if a gord on their head and they have ash smeared in symbols, mostly lines and circles, all over their face, arms, back, chest, and legs.
One very dark night I was walking home from my friend’s house who live three houses down the street and I saw two children walking toward me. I didn’t see at first that they were dressed in voo doo attire but was more concerned about the little boy holding the plastic bag over his head. They just stared at me and it was really spooky. I prayed the rest of the way home.
Another time I was at Richard’s apartment and we heard a parade outside. We went to the window and saw people dressed in all kinds of traditional dress and then a man dresses in an African version of a mascot outfit jumping around and yelling at people above the noise of the drums and bells. I asked and Richard explained to me that it was the voo doo men making a ceremony. I had this yucky feeling all over. I was glad that I saw it from the second story of the building and not up close.
There have been a few times that Richard and I have seen people around us or people come and cause problems between us and someone has mentioned that there was voo doo involved. I didn’t take it too seriously and knew that we would all be ok, but these people and even Richard we suspect that voo doo was trying to work its wickedness in our lives due to a few nasty people around us.
Recently things have been great but I found a scorpion in my bathroom. It was brown and was about three or four inches long. I panicked a little, never having seen one that was not behind glass and might pose a threat to me, but luckily my friend david was there and when I yelled “oh my gosh there is a scorpion in my bathroom” he kindly and quickly replied “well, quick take off your shoe and kill it.” He never came to investigate or check, what a true friend. I took off my shoe, smashed, and then flushed the vanquished beast. I was proud of myself but hoped that there wasn’t a scorpion season as Roxy loves her spiders, geckos, lizards, birds, and all other crawly things to chase. This could be a dreadful thing to chase. I told Richard, ever so proudly, about killing the scorpion and then about my concerns about Roxy. Richard grew very concerned and wanted to know why I didn’t call him and where the body was and warned me that it was only the work of a voo doo man that brought this creature into my house. He told me I needed to be careful and watch out because someone meant harm for me.
Elizabeth felt that may be it entered through a hole in the concrete and I was thinking that sounded a bit more realistic but if one came would more come? I check each room when I enter and don’t leave as much laundry or stuff on the floor. I also am never barefoot anymore.
Then two weeks after this dramatic killing of the scorpion I found yet another, smaller scorpion, in the bathroom as I went for my middle of the night potty run. I had to wake myself up more before I attempted to kill this one as I thought I might miss and then get my just desserts. So I woke up a bit more and ground this one into the floor then flushed the goo. The next day Richard was not pleased that the voo doo man had done this again and I had not called him to inspect the body or at least saved it for him to look at. I was a little disappointed that there was no “good job honey” involved in his speech but he is the African and has seen Africa more than me. I promised the next one I would save for him and he was satisfied. I just pray I don’t have that opportunity.
My conclusion is that like anywhere evil comes in different shapes and sizes. I don’t think I want the slightest to do with this evil and will leave it out of my life and pray against it because God is always greater.
Observations
Recently I took my friend’s father, who is visiting from America, to the boarder market. This market takes place each Wednesday when people from villages come and sell leaves, dried fish and snakes, used clothes, eggs, produce, and cloth. I guess you could think of it as the farmer’s market African style. We walked there and chatted the whole time. As we walked I pointed to this and that and what it is used for. He pointed out that I’ve had quite an education here in many different ways. As this sunk in the rest of the day I realized that he is very correct. I feel comfortable here and enjoy living here so much. I know that it’s harder and there is no rhyme or reason to how things are done at times, but I feel that there is meaning and more joy in my life here. I know that I will always be the yovo so I will never be completely accepted but that is ok. I have also begun to wonder what America will look like to me this summer when I visit. I’m starting think about this visit and it feels more like I’m going on one of my adventure trips more than returning home. It’s bizarre.
My friend’s father enjoyed our walk and I did too. I came home and thought about all the things that seem normal here or some of the bigger differences that we talked about and thought I should share them with you too. I think I’ll just make a list with a little commentary rather than making a post for each.
We saw a three year old walking with his brothers and sisters. They were all carrying something to sell and it happened that the three year old was selling cigarettes from a bucket.
All the raw meat we passed that had been lying on tables under simple awnings all day. When someone buys the meat it is hacked off the larger piece on what we would call a tree stump, but the butcher sees it as a cutting board as he cuts the meat and bones with a machete then puts the meat in a bowl (that is not washed) and then places it on the balance scale. He will give the price and there is always the potential for bartering that will take place.
The random shops that are unmarked and you can duck inside and find all kinds of things from chicken shops to laundry soap venders or may be a bar or hardware store.
All the different kinds of leaves and twigs that women sell for all different kinds of sauces, most of which are served with acume (which I can make now….I can make it in America too so look out if I stay with you this summer).
All the bartering that takes place. I was teaching my friend’s father you don’t get ripped off as bad if you ask how much the item is and then barter and then get your money out and pay. The exception is if you know the standard price for something. If a hungry person, or dishonest person sees you have all kinds of money (not to mention they know your foreign already) they will try to get as much as they can out of you like you are a money tree that has wandered by.
When you purchase a cell phone here you purchase a SIM card from a company, there is pretty much a monopoly here in Togo, then you purchase credit from almost any store, people who walk the streets selling the cards, or other people who sell things from their homes. It is expensive to talk on the phone here and so sending an SMS or a text is my preferred form of communication. I am forever running out of credit it seems. The person who places the call has to pay, but the recipient doesn’t pay at all. Thus there is ‘flashing’. This is when you have enough credit to place a call but not enough to talk or you’re cheap, so you call the person and let it ring one or two times. The person is then supposed to call you back so you can greet them and ask for something.
In Ghana it seems that the credit really lasts quiet a bit longer. I have a SIM for Ghana also and that is how I call America. I just have to walk to the boarder of Togo and Ghana, a sketchy area in broad daylight, and sit on a rock near the busy road and hustling businesses to call. Somehow this seems ok and acceptable to me now.
Another interesting thing here is the way that people cut their toenails, men and women alike. They have their toenails trimmed very far back and in a very manicured arch. Their toenails are so small as the result in contrast to their large feet that have been free to grow and widen as they go barefoot or wear plastic flip flops daily.
There are women who walk around all day with their manicure/pedicure stuff in a large bowl, which they carry on their head of course. When someone calls to them they will cut, file, and paint (the ladies toenails) for roughly 50 cents. I used to cringe a little to think that several people every day had their nails done without these tools being washed, just a quick wipe on the woman’s skirt when she was finished. Oh and she doesn’t use toenail clippers, they use scissors. Now, I wonder if fungus has a harder time living here because of the heat or some other unknown reason as no one I’ve seen or met has had problems of this kind.
Then how can I forget to ponder the abnormally high number of children and adults who have herniated belly buttons. I wonder if it has to do with the way the belly button is cut after birth or if there is something else that causes this. I would say that it is close to 80% of children and 40% of adults here have them. No one seems to be concerned about this. I just hope that it doesn’t indicate other complications.
I have determined that Eway is a exceptionally general as in they don’t really have gender or pronouns. Then French has lots of feminine and masculine, and has pronouns but there is still a lot of generality and inference that leaves me with questions to specificity. One example was my friend, a French girl, was supposed to take this medicine from the pharmacy. She read the directions and they told her how to take it at the pharmacy but when I read the directions and warnings to her in English and explained she told me that she wasn’t told and didn’t read that she was to take it first thing in the morning and some other details. This is only one example of many. Then of course there is English. We are far too specific at times with this crazy English language. I think my brain has been warped from all the details and then the logical thinking that we have going on too. So it’s always fun to try to get details from my Togolese or French friends. Normally they give me the details I needed a day late, or better I will ask one question and they will tell me everything except the answer to my question. I don’t do so hot with that so I have been learning patience and humor in these moments.
Culturally there are many things that I could tell you about but when I first started dating my boyfriend I had a really hard time with our title. He would introduce me to his friends or family and he would call me his strong. Calling me his strong is the Eway word for wife or husband (one word for both wife and husband). I had a huge problem with that. He explained at least a hundred times that even though we were not married, in Togo when you are no longer a child and you have a girlfriend or boyfriend you just say wife or husband. I’m even called “Richard’s wife” by the children who live in his apartment building when I enter the gate or as I climb the stairs as they see me going to visit Richard. Again I look at how I’ve changed because I now have no problem with this and I’ve even been caught calling him my husband at times. Please don’t worry, I’m not married, or living with him.
My friend’s father enjoyed our walk and I did too. I came home and thought about all the things that seem normal here or some of the bigger differences that we talked about and thought I should share them with you too. I think I’ll just make a list with a little commentary rather than making a post for each.
We saw a three year old walking with his brothers and sisters. They were all carrying something to sell and it happened that the three year old was selling cigarettes from a bucket.
All the raw meat we passed that had been lying on tables under simple awnings all day. When someone buys the meat it is hacked off the larger piece on what we would call a tree stump, but the butcher sees it as a cutting board as he cuts the meat and bones with a machete then puts the meat in a bowl (that is not washed) and then places it on the balance scale. He will give the price and there is always the potential for bartering that will take place.
The random shops that are unmarked and you can duck inside and find all kinds of things from chicken shops to laundry soap venders or may be a bar or hardware store.
All the different kinds of leaves and twigs that women sell for all different kinds of sauces, most of which are served with acume (which I can make now….I can make it in America too so look out if I stay with you this summer).
All the bartering that takes place. I was teaching my friend’s father you don’t get ripped off as bad if you ask how much the item is and then barter and then get your money out and pay. The exception is if you know the standard price for something. If a hungry person, or dishonest person sees you have all kinds of money (not to mention they know your foreign already) they will try to get as much as they can out of you like you are a money tree that has wandered by.
When you purchase a cell phone here you purchase a SIM card from a company, there is pretty much a monopoly here in Togo, then you purchase credit from almost any store, people who walk the streets selling the cards, or other people who sell things from their homes. It is expensive to talk on the phone here and so sending an SMS or a text is my preferred form of communication. I am forever running out of credit it seems. The person who places the call has to pay, but the recipient doesn’t pay at all. Thus there is ‘flashing’. This is when you have enough credit to place a call but not enough to talk or you’re cheap, so you call the person and let it ring one or two times. The person is then supposed to call you back so you can greet them and ask for something.
In Ghana it seems that the credit really lasts quiet a bit longer. I have a SIM for Ghana also and that is how I call America. I just have to walk to the boarder of Togo and Ghana, a sketchy area in broad daylight, and sit on a rock near the busy road and hustling businesses to call. Somehow this seems ok and acceptable to me now.
Another interesting thing here is the way that people cut their toenails, men and women alike. They have their toenails trimmed very far back and in a very manicured arch. Their toenails are so small as the result in contrast to their large feet that have been free to grow and widen as they go barefoot or wear plastic flip flops daily.
There are women who walk around all day with their manicure/pedicure stuff in a large bowl, which they carry on their head of course. When someone calls to them they will cut, file, and paint (the ladies toenails) for roughly 50 cents. I used to cringe a little to think that several people every day had their nails done without these tools being washed, just a quick wipe on the woman’s skirt when she was finished. Oh and she doesn’t use toenail clippers, they use scissors. Now, I wonder if fungus has a harder time living here because of the heat or some other unknown reason as no one I’ve seen or met has had problems of this kind.
Then how can I forget to ponder the abnormally high number of children and adults who have herniated belly buttons. I wonder if it has to do with the way the belly button is cut after birth or if there is something else that causes this. I would say that it is close to 80% of children and 40% of adults here have them. No one seems to be concerned about this. I just hope that it doesn’t indicate other complications.
I have determined that Eway is a exceptionally general as in they don’t really have gender or pronouns. Then French has lots of feminine and masculine, and has pronouns but there is still a lot of generality and inference that leaves me with questions to specificity. One example was my friend, a French girl, was supposed to take this medicine from the pharmacy. She read the directions and they told her how to take it at the pharmacy but when I read the directions and warnings to her in English and explained she told me that she wasn’t told and didn’t read that she was to take it first thing in the morning and some other details. This is only one example of many. Then of course there is English. We are far too specific at times with this crazy English language. I think my brain has been warped from all the details and then the logical thinking that we have going on too. So it’s always fun to try to get details from my Togolese or French friends. Normally they give me the details I needed a day late, or better I will ask one question and they will tell me everything except the answer to my question. I don’t do so hot with that so I have been learning patience and humor in these moments.
Culturally there are many things that I could tell you about but when I first started dating my boyfriend I had a really hard time with our title. He would introduce me to his friends or family and he would call me his strong. Calling me his strong is the Eway word for wife or husband (one word for both wife and husband). I had a huge problem with that. He explained at least a hundred times that even though we were not married, in Togo when you are no longer a child and you have a girlfriend or boyfriend you just say wife or husband. I’m even called “Richard’s wife” by the children who live in his apartment building when I enter the gate or as I climb the stairs as they see me going to visit Richard. Again I look at how I’ve changed because I now have no problem with this and I’ve even been caught calling him my husband at times. Please don’t worry, I’m not married, or living with him.
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