Experiences & Journeys; Togo & Beyond

Text Messages and Togo English

2010-07-07T11:41:00.003Z

Today I was cleaning out my messages on my phone and as I was reading them I bust out laughing. I love my friends and they make a more than honorable effort at English but these messages just need to be shared with you too. I thought about translating them for you but then I thought I'd take all the fun away so here they are in the raw. Enjoy and feel the love from my friends.

want 2 wish u a gud day

you fine?

tanks you. nice food. i like so mach. tanks

live kodjo i follow u come a they store

hello my sister i greet u wha do u feel

hi never cme his cll hi they aeroport wif his brother

make come?

are u in the house?

Greet hpy birds day.

I m baf i m coming

i m so sorry i woth football in television

Greet were are you rain coming sorry

Hi nina i m buzy in y scool please

i m not enderstend sorry...foget

Hi my sister what you body is fine?

good morning who are you? im the house.

i m want but now i go some biziness see 5 o'clock.

the kapiter they our fromtt he tell me make come help.

grace and peace of God up on you.

Dirt, Sand, and Mud

2010-06-23T16:09:00.002Z

I realize as I sit here feeding my blog a few updates that my comfort level with all things dirty has changed significantly. How did this happen? I literally just reached down and scratched my ankle and my entire hand is now dirty! It is like a magnetic attraction or something. My friend have just laughed at this and so I thought I should share the moment.

Please don't get me wrong, I'm not OCD or anything, but I like to wash and be clean. Well, after 10 months of walking in the sand and charcoal mixed roads, that turn to muddy lakes whenever it rains, I guess I just accept the fact my feet are never going to be clean again. I paint my toenails to hide the dirt and if I walk on certain streets then the dirt looks more like a nice tan on my lower legs. I have house shoes that I change into at the door...I try at least.

Then there is the ever present sand in my sandals, on the floor of my house, and even in my sheets! I loathed the sand so I dusted and changed my sheets so frequently the first half of my stay here that it was funny. Now I just lay in the sand and think, what harm is it anyway? It will come back tomorrow. I'll sleep on smooth clean sheets in America for a few weeks.

I do realize that the majority of the sand in my house is due to the cutest monster dog in Africa. I hope our next house will maybe have some kind of ground cover with the sand so that the sand stays put in the yard more readily.

Monster Dog

2010-06-23T15:58:00.001Z

When I first got Roxy 8 months ago she was this tiny thing, not even 6 inches high. I knew right away she was special after eating an enormous amount of sand (where my roommate spilled some coffee creamer) and almost died the first week I got her. But like we all know I bond with the special kids and animals very well. She is incredibly loving and needy, yet her playfulness and stubborn streak is enough to drive me crazy. I think she skipped all developmental stages and is permanently stuck on “challenge mom”. She is so clever and knows things I only taught her once or twice, yet the basics like “sit” and “come” she refuses to do unless she feels moved to oblige you. None of my Togolese friends understand this so they don’t follow through with any command…well that is if they can remember the right English word for the command that they want. This may also play into why she isn’t trained….hmmmm. Then there are those Togolese who are mortally afraid of her to begin with. They also marvel at the way I just talk to her like she understands me. I know she does most of the time, like just a few moments ago she brought in some huge stick and I told her to take it outside or I’d throw it over the wall and she can’t play with it anymore. She thought it over and I went back to typing and she took the huge dirty branch just over the doorway and laid it on the steps gnawing at it.
Even though she can be a silly mess she lightens most days, I guess even the days I spend filling in trenches she has dug in hopes of building me a swimming pool. We play games like fetch the palm branch, or tug of war with anything resembling a rope, or clothesline, or clothes hanging from the clothesline. I also found when she was still small that if she was begging to be pet and I could blow in her nose causing her to get so excited that she would run circles around the room and yard, pausing for me to blow in her nose again and again. This was cute until she grew to abnormal proportions and now it’s the bull in a china shop effect in the living room as she knocks chairs and the table out of sorts running and flailing in joyous play. I have to give her a little credit for her ability to play independently with tin cans, random branches or her bones. She can toss them up in the air several feet and then she runs after them as if I had just thrown them in a game of fetch.
Have I mentioned any change in her life, such as a visitor, rain, or my absence causes her to just run huge laps around the yard, but she has a special happy run that is to be noted. She leaps and runs like a gazelle bounding all over. This is another special quality that she possesses in her wealth of entertaining traits.
She loves to stalk the lizards, geckos, and birds and I fear she is only getting better as she has maimed one and even killed a few. She is also a master as killing ants, flies, roaches, moths and spiders in the house. Mice are still a little too swift but she gives it a go anyway. I pray she never sees one of the scorpions that have been making uninvited appearances in the bathroom. Then there is her love for green beans, mango pits, and carrots that will cause her to leave her food bowl and wait patiently at the kitchen door for a small bit. She really posses as a vegetarian at times, but I do make sure she gets bones and the occasional raw chicken leg that help immensely with her oral fixation and leave her with the appearance of being intoxicated.
She is one special dog who is treated better than most Togolese children. No one can understand why on earth I could take her to America with me and not them. There are only a few who tries to share my love and understanding for her, but I know that it is hard now that she is so big.

Mixed Feelings

2010-05-12T21:54:00.002Z

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.

Photocopies

2010-05-12T21:54:00.001Z

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.

Voo Doo

2010-05-12T21:53:00.001Z

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.

Observations

2010-05-12T21:52:00.000Z

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.

Smuggling

2010-04-29T10:48:00.000Z

As we returned from Accra, the second time, we were at the trotro station and all the drivers were trying to convince us that we should get in their trotro. I was looking for the trotro with the most passengers as they are just vans and when the van fills then the trotro leaves. We were looking at the drivers and the trotros when our driver from our last trip saw us and we felt that he was an overall safe driver and we had a nice journey last time so we got in his trotro and took our seats in the front with him like last time, but then we realized that we were two of three passengers. I knew it would be a long wait and it was so I began checking out the wares that people were carrying for sale on their heads. I even spotted some beer and joked that the beer would for sure make the wait more interesting. We opted for Sprite instead. We looked at all kinds of things that people wanted us to buy and I called a few friends in America, as it’s much easier to call in Ghana. Then after a few hours I had to pee so I asked the driver where I should go. He took my hand and led me down an alley, then ducked into a building and we twisted and turned down a few more dark passageways and then he greeted a woman and pointed for me to use a stall marked women. I gladly did and was thankful I carried my own TP as there was only old newspaper available in the stall, mind you this was upscale for Africa and I was grateful. Another half an hour later we pulled out destine for Lome. It was about 7:30pm by then and I was very leery that we would make it to Togo before the boarder closed. I wanted to know where we would sleep but the driver and my friend both said that I shouldn’t worry. I sat and easily did the math in my head and a four hour ride and the boarder closing at 10:00 just equaled bad news but I went with it.

The driver clearly wanted to make time so he maneuvered through Accra traffic (think LA rush hour only Africa style). We even veered off the road at one point and drove way over on the shoulder to bypass many many cars. After we made it out of the city I curled up and began sleeping. I know that both my friend and I were out cold when I heard it and then smelt it, a flat tire. I have only had two in 15 years of driving but you never forget it. He slowed down and pulled over and we all had to unload. I think every woman ran out to relieve themselves while the men just stood where they were and were not shy at all, another very Africa thing. The driver did an amazing job changing the tire and we were back on the road in about 10 minutes. I didn’t sleep so well after that in spite of being incredibly tired. The road was just too bumpy and the lady behind me wouldn’t let me lean my head back without pushing on me or pulling my hair.

When we were near the boarder the driver called someone and everyone began talking in Eway. My friend basically told me that the boarder was closed but the driver knew someone who would take us through so we would get home and I shouldn’t worry. Oh and I should mention it began raining fairly hard.

When we got out of the trotro we were led through some grass and down a passage between some houses. We all stopped under a tin roof that was the overhang of someone’s house. We then had to pay the two men so they could bribe the night boarder guards. No one mentioned that this was very dangerous and I was a HUGE liability because I was white. No one mentioned that I should hide my skin and stand behind other people. I was only told to stay close so I did but with no warnings I was basically oblivious. Then as they were telling me to duck through the hole in the fence, that someone had cut for such occasions, I was told to go and stand in a doorway out of sight. Another woman handed me a panya (large piece of cloth that women wrap themselves in). I put it on my head and hid under it but I still had my shines and ankles hanging out. If someone had told me I could have put my own panya on also and I would have blended a bit more. After everyone had passed under they all gathered around me and we walked toward the guards. I couldn’t see so well but I know that everyone all of a sudden wasn’t there, only my friend and the men we paid and I was in the beam of a flashlight being yelled at to stop and come to the group of boarder guards huddled under a tin roof shelter.
I reminded my friend to tell them that I was sick and we left this morning to go see the doctor and then when we were returning the trotro broke down. He told me that I should not talk but he explained in Eway. They asked to see my passport and we showed them and I pointed to my Ghana and Togo visas. I was completely legal, just crossing at an illegal time of day. I coughed and shivered and acted weak so they might let us go. Then they yelled at my friend and the leader basically said that my friend was to pass and leave me with the guards because white people have been causing problems overseas for other countries and he was holding me. After more discussion and my friend refusing to leave me he wanted money and wouldn’t accept the few Cedis (Ghana currency) that my friend had. I gave 1000 CEFA (Togo currency) and another guard said to the leader that he should just take it because I really did look sick. I got the feeling they started to think they didn’t want to hold me after all. We thanked them and walked fast most of the way home. The boarder is a 15 minute walk from my house. My friend laughed and told me I did a good job playing sick because the guards believed me.

I will never know how people who are smuggled into other countries feel but I know that this little adventure was only a drop in the bucket of what they must experience. This was more than I bargained for when I left to go to the doctor for sure. My friend and I have agreed that next time we will just stay the night as I would have gladly stayed in a hotel. Then again this is an experience I will never forget.

Health Update

2010-04-29T10:47:00.002Z

April has brought more serious illness into my life. I’m still not sure what it was and if it is gone for sure but I can tell you I have lived through the worst stomach pain ever. At first my friends and I thought it was bad food. When that didn’t pass then we thought it was worms. Then when the medicine didn’t work and I was only getting worse I went to the stomach/obgyn doctor. The man listened to me and my friend as we told him about how I was sick and what the symptoms were. The doctor pushed on my stomach and was sure that it was amebas that were hurting me. He ordered blood work and wanted me to begin the medication immediately. He also, bless his heart, prescribed pain medication for my stomach.

At the lab the secretary, who was not so nice in January when I was there, decided that she would draw my blood personally. She used, I kid you not, an extra large needle. Then she pushed so hard to “stop the bleeding” that she bruised me. I have never had a bruise like this before and I swear I was not being a big baby about it. After taking the medicine I began feeling some relief and the running stomach was not so fierce and I began eating a little more and that was nice too.

The next day the lab results showed that I didn’t have amebas, but I had numerous fungi in my blood. It also showed that the sediment rate of my blood was very high. When I returned to the doctor he basically told me I didn’t have amebas, but the fungi could also mean I had an ulcer. He wanted me to start taking fungi and ulcer medicine immediately and then go and get an orthroscopic camera exam and more blood work.

I first cried to think that I might be very sick and living in a near third world country. This didn’t help my friend as he hates it when I cry. Later when I got it together we talked and talked and decided that I would wait the five days and go to Accra, Ghana to see a doctor during my vacation. The doctors are better there and we would find answers. I didn’t buy any of the medicine as the fungi medicine is not available in Lome and the ulcer medicine is mega powerful and highly expensive.

As the days passed I was very careful about what I prepared and how I washed my produce. I also began taking 1 Tbsp of vinegar each day. I continued to feel better each day and by the time I left for Ghana I was pain and symptom free. This made it hard to go to the doctor in Ghana, but I did. The clinic I went to was good and they are still in the process of testing me and waiting for the results before they make any conclusions. The doctor did say that she doesn’t think that I have a fungus infection in my stomach as old people and babies get those. We will see what she says when I return to her office for further consultation.

At the clinic it is a little different, even though Ghana is much more developed than Togo. I had to register, stand in line to pay the cashier, wait but shift chairs as the line moved to see the doctor. Then after she ordered the lab work I had to find the lab but then they sent me back to the cashier and then I could go to another area and pick up my own specimen collection tubes and carry them to the designated rooms, but one room had me return to the cashier to pay for an extra specimen collection fee or something. Then after all specimens were collected I carried them back to the lab and waited in line (there were triplet girls in front of me) and then they recorded the time of drop off and told me to return in three days.

We returned to Togo for the weekend and then journeyed back to the hospital on the third day. I checked in and everyone remembered me (it’s not that hard since I was pretty much the only white person in sight and not to mention they all knew I was from Togo). Then I went to the lab and waited in line for my results, which were stapled shut and I was told to give them to the doctor. I then waited in the chair line and moved from chair to chair as the people in front of me were seen by the doctor. Then doctor informed me that there was no indication of fungus in my system but I did have a UTI. She gave me a prescription and asked me to come back in a week or so to test and make sure it was gone for sure.

We went to the pharmacy and bought my meds and I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I was scared that there was something seriously wrong with me. I’m still not exactly sure why I was so sick but I am guessing that I must have had worms or ameba but since I took both medications it all just worked its way through and I’m ok now. Or maybe it was a virus and it ran it’s course too. I’m thankful that I’m better now and so are my friends.

Elizabeth

2010-04-29T10:47:00.001Z

When I was sick at the end of January I was talking with David, a friend/parent who lives down the street. He and his wife had two house girls and he suggested that I took one to help with cleaning since I’ve been sick and it would help them and help the girl. I thought it over and decided that especially since I’d been sick this was necessary. I talked to the girl and she wanted 10,000 CEFA a month (roughly $22 USD) and she didn’t want to come only one day a week she wanted to come one afternoon and then Saturday all day or until she finished. I agreed and she began a few days later.

Elizabeth is a kind person. I think she is about my age and she has a full-time job at a boutique but needs extra money for her 12 year old daughter who lives with the girl’s grandmother. I like having Elizabeth around and my house looks great too, so it is the win win situation.

A few weeks after Elizabeth started she came to me and explained that she needed to leave her house and so she couldn’t come to work for the week as she needed to look for a new place to live. I thought about it and asked my director as she rents the house for me and reminds me all the time how it is her house. My director said that it would be ok if my house girl lived with me in my three bedroom house, but she didn’t want her to sleep on the bed in the room as my house girl might make the bed smell like a Togolese person and the bed was bought for teachers to sleep in. I just stared with my jaw hanging off my face in disbelief. I truly heard such overt racist speech pouring forth in 2010. My heart ached and my stomach lurched. I was uneasy with having a house girl at the price that I pay but this was beyond. So I talked to my director a little more and then she backed off from telling me to have Elizabeth sleep on a mat on the cement floor next to the bed to sleeping on the bed if she used her own sheets and she didn’t make the bed smell. Mind you the “bed” is a four inch piece of foam that has been used for at least three years by various teachers who have lived in the house with their Togolese boyfriends. Needless to say the bed isn’t much better than sleeping on the floor but it’s the principle of the matter for me. This year my director added a rule; no Togolese people living in the house, and has stated it clearly over and over as if I was going to shack up with someone.
After gaining the thumb up from my director I told Elizabeth that she could live in the house with me and she jumped up and down hugging me in the middle of the street. She moved in a little at a time after dark over the course of a week. She told me that she did it this way because people would see her moving and would cause more problems for her if they felt she was going somewhere nice. Please know that first my house is about two blocks from her old house, and second it isn’t that much of anything to look at for people to be jealous over. This another example of something that we never think of in Western culture, but here this is true. Togolese people are wonderful but there are some who get jealous or find joy in stirring up problems for other people. Then some of these people go the extra mile and practice Vodoo, which everyone seems to speculate is behind anything unpleasant.
Since Elizabeth has been living here she wakes up at 5:30 each morning and does something; dishes, cleans the bathroom and shower, sweeps, mops, washes my clothes, or dusts. I feel kind of bad but she is thrilled that she gets paid and she has a free place to live. I’ve been scolded a few times for doing dishes or working in the yard, but I tell her I need to participate in maintaining the house too. My director has been OK too as I think she realizes the house will be in very clean condition when I leave rather than mediocre. She has even said that if Elizabeth (she calls her my girl) is as good as I say she might have a job for her. I told Elizabeth this but she is happy with her full-time job and cleaning on the side. Besides, who wants to willingly work for a racist person if you can help it!!! I hope I don’t get too used to having Elizabeth because I feel like she spoils me.

The Moto Ride of All Moto Rides

2010-04-29T10:40:00.001Z

I thought I was just riding home from buying dog food at the market but I should know better by now. Things here take much more time and effort than what they should. This was indeed the case like every other day.

I set out to go to the bank, walk through Grande Marchette, go to the western market to buy dog food, and then take a taxi home. I got most of that done with not one hitch until the taxi part. The taxi, like all taxis in Lome, inflated the price beyond reason and then some because I was with my other white friend and because we are yovos we are rich so he must take our great riches. So we negotiate and I still pay a little too much but oh well and we set out for home. Then unannounced to us there was another demonstration/march about the election that was held the first week of March. The opposition side is very unhappy that the president won the votes in the north (villages mostly) and lost in the south (capital city and suburbs and some villages) and still managed to get the majority of the votes. They have been marching off and on but this protest was massive. They marched down one of the major roads of the city. So the taxi looked at the protestors and realized that we were completely cut off from the side of town that was our destination. I realized there was the angry mob, but figured we could get by some how so I proceeded to munch the western cookies we treated ourselves to at the market. Then I saw the police trucks roll up and this serge of anger grew. I knew that these protestors liked to throw rocks at the police and so I knew we had to go please and thank you. The taxi maneuvered the tight traffic and got the taxi turned around and headed in the opposite direction then pulled over. He began demanding that we get out and that we pay him. My friend said no and then told me to sit in the taxi while he got the dog food out. I did and then I got out too. Honestly the taxi hadn’t taken us more than six blocks or so and to demand his fair for several miles wasn’t good and isn’t protocol here.

So we were left on the side of the road not 100 yards from where the protestors and the police and the traffic jam was. We managed to get two motos and they were confident they could get us home. We began with driving against traffic then turned up the muddy street. Oh did I mention we had torrential rain that morning for about an hour. As we dodged puddles the size of small lakes, cars, and pedestrians then zigzagging down this street and the next to find a way around the protestors that seemed to be stretched out for miles. We even went through a few very large puddles, but I will say that my driver didn’t get me wet or dirty at all. This man had skill. He also had a large mouth as he was yelling and commenting to everyone around him. I chuckled as I clung fiercely to the moto. People laughed at my face and how my eyes were the size of saucers.

I made it home first and we were good. I was glad to be done with that adventure.

A few days after this protest I found out that 2 policemen were killed and one wounded. These demonstrations are serious and I’m thankful that we managed to maneuver around it. The Togolese Independence Day is happening soon and the president will be instated as the president for the next four or five years. I know that the opposition is rallying again today and the opposition leader has come to give a speech on the beach and the masses have been out for that, well until the rain rolled in. I hope that there is peace today and this next week. I will stay home as much as possible.

Dinner Party Entertainment

2010-03-12T15:28:00.001Z

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

2010-03-12T15:27:00.001Z

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

2010-03-12T15:20:00.002Z

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

2010-03-12T15:19:00.000Z

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

2010-03-12T15:18:00.000Z

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

2010-03-12T15:16:00.000Z

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.

photos

2010-02-19T13:53:00.005Z

Valentine's Day

2010-02-19T13:52:00.001Z

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.

Men with Cleavers

2010-02-19T13:51:00.000Z

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.

Hotel Palm Beach

2010-02-19T13:50:00.000Z

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.

Africa Welcomes You

2010-02-19T13:49:00.000Z

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.

Schemes and Dreams

2010-01-30T13:54:00.000Z

There are three of us who were hired from the U.S. to teach at the school this year. There is an older lady who technically was a missionary teacher here in Togo for 11 years but when the mission closed last year she returned to the States and tried to find a way back here. Then there is Gabe. Gabe is around 21 or 22, fresh out of college, grown up in a large family who has traveled and lived overseas a lot. He is connected to the family who runs the school so even though he has no experience teaching what-so-ever he teaches kids at the secondary school (middle and high school) English. Gabe reads a lot so he has a lot of one sided information at times, but his heart is good and I can mess with him sometimes like he’s my little brother and he doesn’t get bent out of shape so its cool. Oh and he has a nice ability to blend on the account that he is black, but he is very American and so it’s fun to see him interact with the Togolese too.

Gabe has decided that since there is no recycling program in this country that he would start a non-profit company that gets the public schools here in Lome to collect cans and crush them. His company will then pickup the cans, weight them, have them melted down, and ship them, sell them to be recycled. The idea is that the schools will have a list of supplies that they can order from. The more aluminum weight they have the more it is worth to get supplies for the students and the teachers in the public schools.
Gabe has begun collecting and even buying cans to kick this thing off. He is making all kinds of connections with people all over the city and it’s fun to kind of see the network build. I am also apart of the network in a few ways. I am storing the cans in my yard. Roxy thinks the cans are her new toys so she scatters them, much to Gabe’s chagrin. Then I am also helping Gabe compile the supply list or catalog. I am thinking of this like the green stamps we used to get at the grocery store when I was a kid. We would collect them and then we could order fun things when we had enough books of the green stamps.

I should mention that Gabe has hired, at my suggestion, this 18 year old kid that is like my little brother. He plays soccer for a team in Ghana but this is off season so he stays down the street with his brother and I’ve gotten to know him quite well over the months. He doesn’t have a job but he is a hard worker. He loves soccer very much and plays every day and runs on the beach almost every day. I really hope that his dream to play on a professional team comes true. So Gabe has him hauling the cans to my house and squishing them and bagging them in these bags that are big enough to fit 2 or 3 people inside. I’m glad that I got to help pick who he hired as I wouldn’t just want anyone in my yard a few times a week working.

I am really hoping that this not only works, but that Gabe can find a way to keep it going with enthusiasm after he leaves. I know that if it can just work once then it will be a huge help as the public schools here are in dire straits and I know that this will be a welcomed partnership.

Swimming and Weird Food

2010-01-30T13:50:00.000Z

Yesterday my friends David and Maria (parents of one of my primary students whom I teach in the afternoons) came by and invited me to go for a swim at the beach (yes, we were going to Poop Beach but it was late enough in the day that it should be safe). I quickly applied my sunscreen, grabbed my sunglasses and we were off. I didn’t want to swim as I think the waves are a bit too much for me to swim here. I typically just stand in the waves to my upper legs and stare out across the Atlantic and think about everyone in America I know and love. I think those are the moments that I miss America most.

While we were swimming with 8 naked African boys who had brought a bucket with a lid to act as their water toy for the day, one of David’s friends decided to swim out to the fishing boats and in spite of the waves beating him he made it and climbed in a boat to rest and wave to us. Amazing! In the mean time David would swim out a bit and float in the current along the shoreline and then get out and walk back. I was playing with some little African girls who were scared of getting in the water but wanted me to take them in with me as I wasn’t swimming. So I would hold my arms out to pick them up and they would come over and inspect my whiteness and the anomaly of blond arm hair. I just laughed. None of them actually let me hold them in the water but it was fun.

When we returned to their house Maria had made Acumay (it’s a form of the La Pot I’ve written about before, think sticky very thick potatoes that you eat with your hand and dip in a soup/sauce) The soup she made was with bush rat, okra, greens of some sort, and cow intestines. I agreed to stay. I know that the food is safe at their house and Maria is always cooking something that is interesting and I love it. I know the first time I was at their house for dinner I didn’t eat the chicken feet that she had made but I ate everything else and have since.

Before we ate David asked me if I’d seen a bush rat before and asked Maria if they had one in the kitchen or if they were all cooked. Maria then came from the kitchen holding a bush rat that had been smoked on a stick and she signaled for us to be quiet and she walked up behind her son and she was right behind him as he turned and he saw it and screamed and we all laughed.

As we ate the bush rat and Acumay our fingers burned, but it’s best when its super hot and that’s how you do it. Maria and her friend commented to me that I was Togolese now and I knew how to eat it. Maria told me that she would teach me to make Acumay this way because it doesn’t have all the bad starch in it. I thought this was a great idea. Then we were picking apart the bush rat and found the led ball that it had been shot and killed with. We all laughed and gave it to her son to inspect.

After we were done we had some little fruit that had a soft furry shell and a soft, mildly sweet inside. I called them the furry fruit. Then Maria also brought out an orange unidentified fruit that is stringy like wood but you chew and suck on it and it changes flavor in your mouth. You felt like you were in Willy Wonka’s factory as you chewed and sucked all the weird flavors out before spitting the colorless woody part out.
So my friends you are missing all this by not coming to visit! Please book your tickets soon as I am only here for 5 more months.

Creepy Guy

2010-01-30T13:48:00.000Z

I was walking home the other night and saw one of my student’s fathers sitting at the bar near my house and so I ended up sitting down to visit for a little while. I know this family well as they live down the street and I see them almost daily. I’ve eaten at their house several times and always have such a nice time. The father is a much older Australian and we both enjoy speaking English freely and not struggling our way through communication for basic things in French or Ewe (sounds like ev-ay). Visiting with him always reminds me of my dad’s unique friends.
Let me pause for a moment and describe what a bar is here in Togo, well all over West Africa for that matter. There is a small small cement room that could be used as a variety of boutiques or restaurants or bars. The people then add a stereo with HUGE speakers, a bar, a small refrigerator, some shelves behind the bar to stock a few bottles of alcohol, and a few beer posters tacked to the outside wall announcing the bar’s presence. Please note that you really can have your own bottle of alcohol, like in the Wild West, and pour your glass and then mark the bottle each time you’re there. You can also have your own page in the Bar Tab notebook at the bar if you know the right people. In some establishments there is also a table and a T.V. inside for the bar help. Then the classy part is how many tables and chairs they have and how dusty the street is. This bar in particular has five tables that each has four chairs. This is my street so I walk past at least four times each day so people kind of know me, including a large man named Rock who works there with his sister. One table is next to the building and four of the tables are separated from the bar by the very sandy street. I mean sandy as in even experienced moto riders fishtail all over. Oh and the four tables on the opposite side of the road are up against the tall cement wall that belongs to the Catholic Church. The street light is what illuminates this place as the blaring stereo may play anything from Bob Marley to Dolly Pardon or Elton John and Mariah Carey singing Michael Jackson cover songs. I can hear the music at my house down the street mixed with the singing from the Catholic Church and the neighbor’s chickens and ducks. There is only peace and quiet in the very wee hours of the morning and even then the surf from the ocean and the breeze come to claim their place to be heard. This is an amazing place for sounds, smells, and colors. I am always amazed that there are new things I experience yet it is comforting how familiar it becomes.
So I was visiting with my student’s father and I notice out of the corner of my eye, in the dark, that there was a man’s shape on the other side of the road and he was walking in a strange manner. Also take note that you always need to be aware of who and what is around you just to be proactive. This man paused on the bar side of the road next to the bar and was staring at me on the opposite side of the road. I felt weird but I’m white in a black country, people stare ALL the time. It wasn’t until he shuffled across the street and stopped in the road near our table that I actually turned and looked at him and what he was doing. He was standing with his pants pulled down, smiling, and playing with himself. I turned away to the dad and the dad got up and shoved the guy away. The man pulled up his pants and slithered off.
I mean this is on the top of ‘the gross, disturbing things that happen to you’ list in most places but really we acknowledged it as bizarre and then it became a joke the rest of the evening. Of course the dad insisted upon walking me home after our visit and I’m sure that this incident creeped him out too. We now refer to this strange man as “Masturbation Man”. YUCK!!!!

African Telephone

2010-01-15T17:22:00.004Z

The community aspect of living here and enjoying all the joy and the absence of rushing to move ahead in life can at times have its downfalls. This past week I have experienced this. Not only does everyone get into everyone's business they put a twist on it and then they all pick sides. I guess when they tease me that I'm becoming Togolese this applies to my business and their right to be involved in it too.

This is a situation that I will freely share with many of you but I think if I'm posting this I'd like to leave the details out and just focus on the human behavior observations for now. Cultures are so different and well I am trying to decide each day if I will let this hurt consume me. I have to decide if I will share with them and possibly be hurt more or should I keep this thing that many Africans can see happening but they are just looking in and they don't know my story threads that make this tapestry life. So their view has holes and the African telephone is trying to draw me to share and fill in the holes. I know that there are a few who really love me and majority of people jsut wnat entertainment on my behalf. Thus far I've hidden (literally)from people I love and made sure that I speak to very few people. This is hard too as I'm SO verbal and solve problems much better when I speak and talk it out. I can for sure say that I'm growing here and know that I will never be the same after living here. I believe I will be better is many many ways.

Togolese people are great but there are some character traits that I will never understand. One is lying. It's done for many reasons, but its mostly done for sport or entertainment. It can be simple like a shopkeeper not wanting to get up to make change and so he says that he is out of what you want to buy. It can be the Tata at school telling me on Saturday that I can't work in my room because she doesn't have the key just to mess with me. It could be a friend telling me one thing only later to find it is a lie that I am being manipulated with. This risk of placing trust in people and loving them through it can make or break you as a person. A wise friend here has told me that I can pick to accept them and their culture or I can reject it, either way I might be hurt. I will tell you that I'm trying to accept it but my logical American brain is struggling very badly. I know my kids in L.A. would lie to me and I worked through that with them, but this is hard as these people are more my friends and I want them to be my equals, but they are not in many ways. My unfair expectations are also causing a problem I suppose.

Culture here also has double standards and depending on the city and village, or families, friends, men, and women they are expected to act and dress differently. As I transition from the yo-vo (white lady) who teaches at the school to a member of their commuunity I have had so much fun and enjoy the different perspective, but it is clear that I have certain things that I will either learn to change or that I will fight against and lose. This trial is one of those times of refining and making it clear if I'm really apart of the community or if I'm an interloper.

Dog Ownership in Africa is FUN?!...

2010-01-15T17:21:00.000Z

This morning I was planning my Sunday chores of cleaning the yard, bucket washing my laundry, and hand sweeping the house when I was stalled. I was petting Roxy after I ate breakfast and I could feel these huge bumps on one of her back legs.

Now the government veterinarian, who gave Roxy all her puppy shots, told me that there are flies that live in the sand that will lay their eggs in the sand but sometimes the eggs get on dogs and then little maggots will nest under the dogs skin. He told me that I should pop the maggot out if this happened and treat he wound with Betadine. He also suggested that I pour poison on all the sand in my yard to kill the flies. I will be honest I haven’t poured the poison on the sand in the yard because I don’t think that it would be good for Roxy.

As I gave Roxy her morning rub I thought about his instructions and I worried about her so I squeezed one of the bumps like a pimple and out shot this maggot and wiggled at me as it was still kind of lodged in her leg. I picked out the worm easily and proceeded to remove 13 other maggots in the same way. Please note the pictures below are not for everyone. I put all the maggots on the coffee table as I preformed the removal and then took a picture before sending them down the toilet. I will never forget this. Then I proceeded to clean all the wounds I made and rub Neosporin into them as I didn’t have Betadine at home right now.

After that Roxy and I finished raking the leaves in the yard (ok so she jumped in the piles and ran around with leaves in her mouth taunting me), washing the laundry (she drank my bucket water leaving all kinds of sand in my wash bucket and I would splash her and play), and sweeping the house (Roxy would stand in my piles again). A very typical Sunday morning. I’m so happy I have her. I read a little and she took a nap next to my chair. It was a big morning I guess.

Home Sweet Togo!

2010-01-15T17:20:00.000Z

I was so happy to return home to Lome and see my sweet little Roxy. I was so happy that I loosened her collar before I left as she grew so much in the 10 days that I was gone that I almost need to loosen it again! She is so amazing how she grows so quickly. I was disappointed that my friend who watched her didn’t reinforce her training so I have implemented doggie boot camp at home until she is able to keep all four feet on the ground, come, sit, and stay. Thank goodness I bought that leash! But don’t’ get me wrong, she is absolutely the cutest puppy and I love her so much. There is nothing that makes me giggle and laugh, even in my worst moments, like her little clipped tail trying to wag but sends her whole butt into wiggles and dances.

I’ve been home for a week now and it feels so normal to be here. All the drama has returned and I’ve forgotten that it was just last week that I was in Abidjan. The biggest thing is how one mother has removed her child from our school and blames me. In an email to the director she sights that I am the most ill-mannered, arrogant person that she has ever met and that I am too lazy to teach her child. Crazy parents even exist here. No one is really thinking much of this, except the Director is worried for the school’s reputation and what people might think and say about our school now. I told her that she has 8 other very happy parents so that is something to consider. She thinks that calling the parent and promising I will work harder is a good solution. Hmmm….I’m not sure that working harder is the key here, as I work harder than most of the other teachers and my kids are progressing very well. I think that this parent, who refused 2 or 3 conferences and would send me these demanding notes for books and more homework each night, might need to relax a little. Her kid is 5 for heaven sake. Besides, she didn’t really do the work I sent home and just wanted to order me around. We all know how well I take being ordered around by crazy people. Needless to say I’ve been smiling a lot and reverting to education speak when I communicate with her all year. At least I only have one crazy parent.

The election at the end of February is fast approaching and you can feel it in the air. This might also be because I live in the not so great area of town and it’s supposed to be the opposition stronghold. I’ve heard loudspeakers attached to cars driving down my street saying stuff about the election. My friend told me that the news has been talking a lot about the election. They call it “heating up”. Technically campaigning can’t begin until 2 weeks before the election but the organization of the parties and whatnot is taking place now. Many people have told me that nothing will change because France puts too much money ( in the pockets of the people in power) in the country. Other people think that change and revolution might happen. I know that the biggest opposition leader who was elected as a regional leader in the last election had to be in exile the last 5 years and he has returned.
Personally I worry for the people and I hope that no one is hurt or killed. I know that there is a lot of potential for harm as emotions and mobs can over take common sense. I will more than likely have to leave the country for the week of the election. I know that school will be closed for a week but if things are still “hot” we will have another week off of school. This second week will be taken from my 2 week spring break and I do not like that idea much.
Clearly, this isn’t anything like the elections in the US so if you think about it you can pray for the people and this time in Togo.

At The Club

2010-01-15T17:19:00.000Z

While in Abidjan I met many of the family’s friends and we spent a lot of time with one couple in particular, who are their very good friends. We spent time with them at their very nice home and one night we went out with them to a club. Everyone knows that I’m not really a club person but I figured it was something I wanted to see while in Abidjan, and I’m glad that I did.
The club was set up with lots of furnished areas to sit, a dance floor, and clearly a bar. I honestly could count may be three people in the whole place smoking, that was nice. Then there was a huge mirror on one side of the dance floor and most of the girls dancing all night were glued to the mirror, like they were 12 dancing at home in their bedrooms. My friend explained that if the clubs don’t hang mirrors around the dance floor that people will not come to dance and the club will eventually close. There were ample fans and so you weren’t hot dancing or sitting. I also noticed that the men weren’t hitting on the women and the women didn’t seem like they were there to get a man. Everyone was there to have fun with their friends and that was all. It was nice. I do have to make sure I tell you about the bathroom. It was clean for African and most club standards in America too, but the one thing that cracked me up was the soap dispenser was not filled with soap, but rather there were about 20 dead bug bodies in the empty soap dispenser. Talk about contradiction.
The music in Abidjan seemed to be programmed in blocks on the radio, the TV, and in the club also. The first hour was Salsa music. I promise you I saw some of the best Salsa dancers that I’ve ever seen in my life on that dance floor. People here in West Africa LOVE Salsa music, and dancing and it’s clear that some of them practice a lot.
The next hour was Hip Hop, and the next African line dancing. Now I can electric slide with the best of them but the African version isn’t so easy. I couldn’t even follow because not everyone knew what they’re doing so I couldn’t really follow anyone around me or blend very easily. Ok, I realize blending as the only white girl in the place isn’t possible, but at least not being the sore thumb would have been nice.
At about 2am the dance floor cleared and everyone took their seats. There was going to be a show. These two men came out and sang and danced. I admired their paintball splattered shirt/jackets and their dress pants that had been altered to look like the skinny pants that are popular in the States. Then they topped off their ensemble with pointed dress shoes and 80’s sunglasses. I thoroughly enjoyed the show.
So, my official summary of the evening and wee hours of the morning would have to be it was most enjoyable and I wish more of my club experiences were more like this one.

Traveling With Soon To Be Friends

2010-01-15T17:16:00.000Z

This Christmas vacation I was invited to travel to Cote d’Ivoire (the Ivory Coast) with one of my student’s families for 10 days. I gladly accepted and got my visa.

Roxy could sense I was leaving as I packed the night before and even tried to climb into my bag at one point (like she does when I take her to the vet in my bag). She was also extra playful, distracting me from packing. I was sure my friend would take good care of her while I was gone.

The night before I left my friend took me out to find Colico. This is a fried yam with spicy sauce that I love. Think of large potato wedges with a sweet zing to them and you dip them in spicy salsa. My colico lady in my neighborhood has relocated so we went to find another lady on the roadside who makes colico. We were successful and she also had a pot of goat with a green sauce that was really taste so I got a little of that too.

*** Please note that no matter how yummy something is you probably shouldn’t eat it for the first time when you are planning to go on a road trip the next morning (especially when you live in Africa). Oh yes my friends, running stomach hit me very badly as we crossed the boarder into Ghana, traversed the bumpy roads of Ghana, and then crossed into Cote d’Ivoire. This was 13 hours of stomach gurgling fun let me tell you. I was living the commercial jingle “gotta go, gotta go, gotta go, right now!”. I had to practice mind over body control as I was traveling with a family that I didn’t know really well and we couldn’t just stop all the time because we had to cross the Cote d’Ivoire boarder before 6:30pm. I was happy that my student is just 5 years old and she needed to have a potty stop ever 2 hours or so. It is all OK now and after 2 days it has finally passed but OO LA LA not so much fun.

The car ride took about 13 hours and I got to see the scenic view of Ghana during the daylight hours. There is definitely a different feel to each African country. Ghana is clearly more developed than Togo and seems cleaner to me. The stretch of road that was right next to the ocean was breath taking. Then when we drove past Cape Coast it almost felt like a smaller town on the coast somewhere in the U.S. I for sure would like to travel back there and spend a few days.

Meanwhile, inside the car I sang Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, Jolly Old St. Nicolas, and Jingle Bells over and over with my student. We had a Christmas program at school and for the last month or more I have been singing teaching and practicing these songs with the kids at least 3 times each school day. I thought it was all over and I wouldn’t have to sing these songs again but I guess my little girl loved them so much that we sang them over and over and over in the car too. Luckily, the sing along CD had a few other Christmas songs and so I taught her some others mixed in between the others. I hope I don’t have to sing these three unmentionable carols for a year or more.

I should also mention that the eating began in the car and I feel like I it never stopped eating for the whole trip. All the weight I’ve lost might be returning due to the family’s family and friends all wanting to feed us and serve cocktails every place we go. It’s all I can do to just have one drink to be nice and then return to water.

Oh and Abidjan is a beautiful booming city. It has grown so much in the last 5 years that it really is a big city. In some ways it reminds me of L.A. with an African twist. I’m so thankful for this opportunity to see another place, but I think that I’m ready to return to my home in Lome.

Observations of Seasonal Change

2009-12-19T17:19:00.000Z

I know when I lived in Los Angeles I complained that the steady temperature gave no indication of the seasons changing. Although it is super-dooper hot here I have begun to notice the changes in the climate. When I arrived it was nice, warm but nice. The Togolese complained that it was cold and would wear their hats and coats and even gloves. Then it began getting hotter and it just continued to get hotter and hotter. They were happy and shed the coats and long sleeves. Then it became incredibly hot. Please note that I was sick twice with a respiratory infection (including fever) during this phase. How my friend could tell I had a fever when I was just constantly burning hot and dripping sweat/water, literally. You don’t even smell of B.O. because your body is just sweating so much. I have never experienced heat like this and Missouri heat will never compare. I think only Hell might, and I emphasize might, be hotter. Another thing that I noticed was that the geckos and the lizards that are everywhere started to thin out and then all together disappeared. I was sad as I really loved these little ones running around teasing Roxy and just overall scurrying about the yard, walls, streets, and school. I really hoped that they would come back soon as the frequent sightings of mice and huge cockroaches are not as fun as geckos and lizards.
I have realized that it is cooling a little bit, as the Togolese would say “small small”. I think that it’s just super hot right now. I have begun to smell my B.O. again and I don’t need the fan ALL night anymore. The Togolese have brought out long sleeve shirts and the taxi moto men have been wearing hats and coats lately.
It would have been fun to have a thermometer to measure the temperature outside each day and actually report for you (cause I’m that nerdy) but alas I’ve just invented my own way of determining how hot it is. Not as scientific I know, but funnier for sure.

So as you all have been experiencing Fall and may be even a dusting of snow, please enjoy it and take it in for me. I miss the leaves changing and snow just might make me cry. May be next year I will just be normal and spend Christmas at home. It has been so good for me to be here. I think that this is just what I’ve been waiting for all my life. Just so you know I’m contemplating a second year, but I’m not sure. I will for sure be home in July for a few weeks regardless. I look forward to hugging you and going through a little culture shock.

BIG UPDATE! I saw 1 baby green headed lizard yesterday outside the gate at my house, and then 2 push up lizards today. I was so happy. Then one of my students saw a fat gecko crawling on the wall in my classroom today and we all looked at him. This evening as I was washing dishes I saw a little gecko crawl across the outside of the screen of the kitchen window (please note that my windows don’t really have glass rather they are holes cut in the walls and screen mesh hung over the bars). These sightings make me happy that my little creatures are back and that the heat might actually be subsiding.

I would also like to take a moment and tell you that I am so excited that Mango season is here! It’s sad that avocado season is over but all of you know how much I love mangos and oh it is so heavenly! There are 2 kinds of mangos here; a small local orange mango, and the large mango we all are familiar with and love! I literally can buy the small mangos for .05 cents each and the large mangos for .25 cents each. I have been eating one or 2 every day and have joked that I might turn orange like the mangos but oh it’s so great. =-)

The Baby Dedication

2009-12-19T17:18:00.000Z

My friend invited me to tag along to his friend’s house for a baby dedication. I thought that since I’ve been to a wedding and graduation that this would be another good experience, so I went.
The little boy is 3 years old and his name is Believe. This is one of the most verbal little boys I’ve ever met, not to mention that he is a spiffy dancer too. I had such a nice time with everyone and his mom is a very boisterous welcoming woman who also speaks a fair amount of English. She boldly asked things about my life that made me feel a little uneasy for the first time meeting all these people but it was fun and I just smiled through the whole experience.

Apparently, the day before they had gone to the church for the actual dedication and this was the reception party at the house where they gave out huge amounts of food, played music, and there was some dancing starting when we left.

It all began with a lot of talking and sitting around. Now Togolese literally sit separately (men and women) on opposite ends of wherever they gather. Since my friend is a man and I am the yo-vo (white girl) I get to sit with him and no one minds. So, I sat with the men and listened to them talk. It was funny because I picked up on some of their conversation but my friend filled me in on the rest. All the men were talking about getting white girls and laughing about it the way that teenage boys talk in the locker room about how they could get the prettiest girls in the school. They laughed about all you need to learn to say is “I love you baby”. I laughed especially hard when one guy left and returned with what looked like his Togolese girlfriend. They didn’t speak about getting a white girl after that.

The celebration began with a round of wine or whiskey, each person’s choice. I opted for the wine and it was rather strong. I smelled the whiskey and well just take my word that it would knock anything over. Then the mother and her friend brought out the first platter of food. It’s another typical thing that the men’s side of the gathering is served first. There is no buffet style here. It was a really nice salad, western style. I actually ate leaf lettuce and a piece of pickle too. I was so excited. I hadn’t had either since I left America. Then there was Togolese style potato salad and it was yummy. I was feeling rather full when they brought around the beer. I took one but I wished for water. Before I opened the beer my wish was granted and it wasn’t even the plastic bag of water, it was real bottled water. I was so happy. Later they brought out one of the paste-like white foods that is very common here with a sauce and chunks of beef. They were disappointed that I didn’t take more meat but I honestly was so full (or satisfied as they say here) that I joked with the father that I had a food baby. This is where I can seriously get myself in trouble because of the communication barrier is ever present. He then turned to his wife with this happy smile on his face and was honestly going to tell her that I was pregnant with my friend’s baby. Oh Lord help me…I am not so funny when it backfires on he me like that. I corrected him before the rumors began and he laughed after I slowly explained that I was very satisfied and I was joking that I ate so much it made my belly stick out like a baby. I WAS NOT pregnant. Sheesh. I need to be more careful.

We listened to music more and Believe danced with his mom and other relatives. We decided that it was time for us to go and so half the party came out to say good bye to us (or the white lady) and to take pictures with me like we were best friends. I laughed and smiled really big.

So this wasn’t the most eventful outing but it was special and I had a good time. As we took moto taxis home I was thinking that the people at the American Embassy are really nice and it’s good to see them but I felt kinda bad for them as they don’t live within the Togolese community at all. They live like the Wizard of Oz came and swept up most of their life in America and planted it here. I enjoy so much being within the people and participating in the community here. I love my life here, overall.

Melrose Place…Lome Style

2009-12-19T17:17:00.000Z

The last three weeks or so I have been living my own reality show. I know it sounds crazy but please remember I’m living in a capital city with European and American people, so I promise it’s a drama! The differences are a little less Hollywood. We don’t have the latest clothes, or cause drama for money, fame, or power, but the basic drama of hurting other people out of selfishness is the core and that is the same. I’ll spare you some of the yuck but here are the tragic points and just for kicks the craziness of the people I interact with.
Julie, my former roommate, began getting calls from a girl’s boyfriend (we teach with this girl). This man would not relent so Julie decides to go out with him, just once (BAD MOVE!). They begin sleeping together. Please note the man lives at the other girl’s house and they are spending entire weekends at hotels and whatnot here in Lome. She then thinks she is pregnant and might have some disease. Mind you I’ve explained that this is not a good idea to her several times. Her attitude went from “Oh it’s just for fun and he doesn’t mean anything to me” to “I love him and we think we could have a baby together”. INSANE!!!!
So the man is clearly NOT welcome in my house! After about a week and a half he tells Julie that he will leave the girlfriend (who we work with) of like almost 2 years, if Julie will be committed to him. Julie agrees and the next thing I know she is attempting to pick fights with me to justify moving out. She didn’t like that I never told her she had to move out and she then began telling me that she couldn’t be friends with me because I was judgmental. She felt that since I explained again and again that this was a selfish thing to do and it’s just flat out wrong! Sheesh!
Meanwhile, the girl (who was losing her boyfriend) begins to suspect he is sleeping around after he spent two weekends away from home and a few weeknights, oh and then the text he sent her instead of Julie about a rendezvous. She’s quick. Then someone told the girl’s friend that they saw Julie and the man together at a bar. These people are crazy. Julie is gone constantly with this guy and what do the girl and her friends (also teachers at the school) do? They come to my house and harass me and try to push open my gate door to inspect my house. They are retarded. Then after they weren’t welcomed in they sit and ring my doorbell for 10 minutes straight. This was Julie’s other reason for moving out; the girls were a threat to me. I think she lost who she was when she began seeing this guy. Julie actually sat and looked me in the face several times and told me that there was no right and wrong in life and that this was true love. WOW! May be we only teach right and wrong in America?

I have been alone for over a week now. She has moved her things out and I have gotten the pity of my director, the tatas, and even the teachers who tried to break into my house. Yesterday one of the tatas told me that if Julie was an African they would tie her hands and just beat her. I told her that wasn’t probably the best thing, but yes, Julie was wrong. The tata told me that I was a good person and I should forget her, she wasn’t my friend. Then she reassured me that all the tatas liked me. I smiled, but my heart hurts a little to have lost my best friend here. I know that Julie has hurt herself and other people more than me, but I still feel sad in the evenings when I’m alone instead of cooking, talking, and laughing with Julie. I know it will get easier as the days pass. I just haven’t been alone AT ALL since I arrived here in August and I was getting used to it. Now I have to get used to just being with Roxy. I’m glad that I have Roxy!

Care Packages

2009-12-04T16:53:00.002Z

Hi Everyone.
I just wanted to share that if there is something that you would like to send me, it just got a whole lot easier! I have a student whose father works at the Embassy and I can have things mailed through the Embassy. You just follow these easy steps and the best part is the shipping cost is all within the U.S. for you.
Please though it would be great if you check with me first before you send anything as there are a lot of things that I've found that I can get at Grande Marchette. It's amazing the things I can get and the things I can't get here, so it's just safer to check with me. In general I can't get construction paper and I never thought I'd say that I miss American candy/chocolate, but I now see it as a special treat. Oh and I haven't found green tea yet (and you all know how I love my green tea). It seems that shops only sell Lipton. Please don't send me anything that says Lipton on it.

Step 1:
Address the box to

Scott McFadden
2300 Lome Place
Dulles, Virginia 20189

Step 2:
The return address should read my name and then your address. This ensures that it gets to me.

Step 3:
Do not pack any liquids or parishables. It's going through the mail but also the government. I've been told that it takes 2 weeks for the package to arrive here so that it pretty good I think.

Please don't feel like I'm begging, it's just really cool that packages are possible now. It's just something I wanted to throw out there as some of you had said that you wanted to send me something but I thought it was too expensive. Now it's not too bad.

Three Months Later

2009-12-04T16:52:00.001Z

This is my three month assessment of my life in random thoughts. I know that I should edit this for some of you worry warts, but what the hay, life is beautiful and I know that when I go back to America I might be shocked too. For now it’s fairly normal so I’m going with it.

I have had the blessing and curse of losing 20 pounds. This is great as I needed to, but now my clothes don’t fit…even the ones that were too tight to wear when I got here. So I morn wearing oversized britches each day, aside from the days I wear my Togolese outfits that I have had made. Oh yes, everyone loves these days. The Tatas (aides/aunties) at school all go crazy with teasing, and dancing in a loving way. I have one picture below. They tell me I am African girl now.

I was sitting on the back of my moto today going to the bank at rush hour and as the man whizzed in the opposite lane and ground to a stop for the light I was texting. I briefly thought, “May be this isn’t such a good idea, so I should be fast fast.”

My ability to learn French is proving to be less than ideal. After teaching in English all day and everyone wanting to practice English with me, it is near impossible to learn French. I have discontinued my French lessons as I’m so disgusted.
I do need to add that Togolese English is not the same English that we speak in America. They say things like ‘fast fast’, ‘it is finished’, ‘I am coming’, ‘it is spoiled’, ‘plenty’ and ‘what is your problem’. Unfortunately, I have begun to pick up the lingo. So I am officially losing all hope of ever speaking correct English again in my life. I have taught teenagers in L.A. for 3 years and now I’m speaking Togolese English. Oh well, I’m sure you will all get a kick out of making fun of me when I move back.

I have been eating at Togolese’s houses and street food and haven’t had running stomach, so I think I’m doing pretty good. I don’t even think about it that much anymore, I just eat. Majority of the food here is a mash (think solidified mash potatoes) in a ball. You dig your pointer and middle finger into the mash and roll a ball with your thumb, be careful as it’s super hot and sticky! Then you dip it in the sauce and eat. Normally there is some kind of dried fish you pick apart or chicken part that is more bones, skin, and cartilage than meat. I was offered chicken feet then other night but just wasn’t ready for that yet. May be I need another few months for that one and then fish eyes too????
When you eat like this you wash your hand at the table and it’s a communal thing. I love it. Oh and I’ve learned that you do not eat with your left hand. It’s only ok to spit the bones or bones into your left hand and hide it under the table.

I still wash my clothes by hand in the wash basin out in the yard. I still cook most all the meals. I sweep a little more as the dusty season has begun, also known as Hermittan.

Roxy is beautiful and I love her so much. I have been told, by my vet, that I need to stop feeding her dinner as this will make sure she is alert all night. So she only gets breakfast and lunch beginning today. I feel kinda mean but this is how you train a guard dog I guess and she does need to be part guard dog to protect me during the night. She is great though!

I have sad news. My beloved roommate Julie has decided that she will move out of the house to live with her new found boyfriend who left another teacher in our school. It’s an awkward situation but I think it will all settle with time. I have been enjoying the peace and some time alone. I realized that I haven’t really had alone time since arriving here in Lome three months ago. It’s fun to write and read and play with Roxy and just be quite and still.
I’ll be honest, I was a little freaked out sleeping alone in the house the first few nights but now I’m good. I lock the gate up tight and all the doors are battened down. Not to mention Roxy is out in the yard. My friend who works for the school and lives up the street has told me that if I hear anything I can call him and he will come and check it out, no matter what time. I think that people pretty much know me on the street so I should be good. It’s my home and so I’ll be at peace, but aware at the same time.

It looks like I will travel during Christmas break with a family of one of my students. This should be very fun and I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t left Lome since I arrived and so seeing another country will be great!

Thanksgiving!

2009-12-04T16:47:00.000Z

Happy Turkey Day! I hope that you celebrated with loved ones, crisp fall weather, and lots of turkey, cranberries, sweet potatoes, green bean casserole, and of course pumpkin pie! This year I was a little put out that I had to work the day of Thanksgiving, but thank goodness the Muslim community also has their thanksgiving holiday the day after, so the Togolese government declared it a national holiday. I love 3 day weekends!
The night before Thanksgiving, after spending a week of talking about Thanksgiving at school and tracing my hand a million times to make turkeys and discussing what we’re thankful for with the kids, I was invited to the Ambassador’s home for an American feast. It was fun and I’m so glad that I had this opportunity! I wore my new pretty sundress and mingled and shared turkey and many other great treats. I’m sorry to report that there was no green bean casserole. I think that this summer I will bring back the fixins and I will bring it if I’m invited next year. Please, don’t get me wrong it was the most elegant Thanksgiving that I have partaken in. I ate off of plates that had the U.S. seal on them. I used real silver silverware. There were people walking around ready to give me cranberries and other treats and then collect my plate when I was finished. Then there was more talking. The house and compound was really nice as well. I didn’t realize until I went to the bathroom that it had been months (since before I arrived) that I’d seen myself in the mirror. I got a good look at the Ambassador’s house and it made me feel like a kid discovering my reflection in the hall outside of the bathroom. I’m glad no one caught me as they might have thought I was strange for sure.

From what I could see the Muslim community had a nice thanksgiving too. All of my students and colleagues who are Muslim told about the “sheeps” their family had bought and the oldest male in the family would slaughter them. Personally, I spent their lovely holiday laying on a beach lounger 20 yards from the waves, under a canopy fast asleep for several hours. It was amazing. I thought of you all a few times as I rolled over and gazed out into the Atlantic and knew you were on the other side coping with Black Friday. What can I say, life is rough when it is almost always 100 degrees every day.

Critter Alert!

2009-11-18T17:52:00.000Z

Julie went in the kitchen this evening to grab a knife for me, but instead calls me in telling me to “Come look”. We have a host of geckos, lizards, and whatnot in the kitchen so I go with the idea that it was one of our friends. Oh no! She points out this little mouse behind all of our clean dishes in our make-shift rack! She acts like its so cute! I tell her we have to catch it and get rid of it. She laughs and then laughs at me as I proceed to try and catch this mouse. So clearly I didn’t catch it. We return to the living room and continue our evening in front of the fan. About 20 minutes later the crazy mouse is joining us in the living room! This time I get a better container and proceed to chase the mouse around the living room and Julie’s room. At one point it even ran across my foot and I screamed. Julie found this very very funny. I think she enjoys me only for entertainment factors as life is always exciting with me around.

I even let Roxy in the house at one point to help hunt the mouse. Roxy will hunt the geckos and spiders each night, but did she even help with the mouse, NO! She wanted to play with me instead. I accidently stepped on her paw and she pulled the sit and stare at me while lifting up the paw. She is such a drama queen. She really isn’t hurt but she wants all the attention and knows that we will talk to her and pet her extra when she does this. I have to admit that it’s cute but extremely clever too. Eventually, I did catch the mouse.

After inspection of the mouse in the container, Julie suggested that we make it a classroom pet and we could show our classes. I told her the Director would just love that! Not to mention we would get blamed for having a dirty house (which we rent from the Director). So Julie has named the mouse Stuart and Stuart is in a Tupperware container on a shelf in the living room. I hope that I can release the mouse far from the house tomorrow (yes, this is my personal catch and release/relocation program in Africa. I’m not sure the Togolese will like that so let’s not tell them, ok).

I’m sure that tomorrow will bring the last adventure with Stuart, well I hope so.

Part 2
Stuart died in the night. Since Julie wanted to save him to show our students we just put the Tupperware container on the shelf in the living room. I had an idea that he might not have enough oxygen to make it through the night but I was not so keen on the idea of keeping him and so I just let it slide.
Julie accused me of murder this morning. Then today at lunch she realized that even though I tried to put oxygen in the container before I went to bed I knew that he wouldn’t make it through the night. She told me she was too tired to realize this last night and she knew that I knew all this information and just let it slide. We laughed about it and I took Stuart out for his burial in the yard this afternoon.

I should add that this morning Julie asked me if I’d been in the kitchen yet. I am beginning to dread this question. She told me that it was a gecko this time. It was really a lizard stuck in the kitchen sink. I think he fell off a rafter and couldn’t get out. Julie and I discussed the differences between geckos and lizards. Then I proceeded to catch him. He got away.

He returned this afternoon in the screen on the kitchen window and then again got away. It turns out he is a very wiggly little fellow. But then he hid under the refrigerator. Later he was making a break for the front door and Roxy perked up and almost had him for dessert. I locked her up and freed the wiggly lizard. At least one out of two was released. I would say my relocation program is doing ok right now. I hope it’s awhile until I have to use my critter skills again.

Trauma

2009-11-18T17:51:00.000Z

I have a girl in my class who is clearly special to me. I mean this in that our personalities are compatible more than the other children. I think it is because she can be bossy, stubborn, she doesn’t communicate her feelings well, and in general is used to doing what she wants when she wants. Hmmm…does this sound like anyone you know? I love her so much and she seems to be doing well in my class this year. The Director is completely impressed as this child hated school last year and seems to love me and coming each day. Her mother has reported that this little girl loves me so much and listens to me that they use my name at home to make her do things by saying “Would Nina like that?”. I laugh but she is adorable and very special to me. At times she is behind on things like fine-motor skills and language development, while other times she seems to absorb information and retain it better than other children. I think she is intuitive and her potential is great if she is not overlooked.

I laugh at the things that she tells me and other children, but by far she makes me feel not so far away from America and my tough kids when she tells me things like “You crazy!” or when I am teaching and she leans forward in her desk with this look of shock and amazement and says “What did you say!?” like I’ve just shared the key to all learning with the class. She makes me smile and laugh so much. Oh and she went through a phase of telling me each day that “Nina, we go to beach at 7 o’clock on Friday, OK?”. It is dark here at 5:30 and there is no way her parents or I am going to the beach after dark, but she was trying to be a big girl and it was adorable. The other children in class sometimes look at her and wonder if she will get in trouble for her scandalous comments (for Kindergarten that is) but then laugh too. Oh and each day during recess she has to play for 5 or 10 minutes and then check in with me and get a hug. Then she will repeat this, unless she is tired or having a hard day then I have to hold her in the sweltering African heat. She is something else.

Yesterday, my little friend was playing at recess and I was parked on a bench in the shade, as always, when she comes running/stumbling over. The look of horror on her face I knew that we were in for drama and lots of hugs. So I scooped her up and she finally caught her breath after many crocodile tears poured from her big brown eyes. I asked her where it hurt and with my little friend you have to ask slowly a few times before she actually starts to make sense. So I patiently wait and go through the process and I get that someone bit her and it was on her collar bone. I check and there is no mark whatsoever. So I rock her some more and she is good. Then the director comes over and wants to know what is wrong and take my little friend to have her point out who bit her. Well, the Director comes back and she said “I don’t understand she said that it was someone in your class but I don’t know who.”. This is funny because I don’t have any bitters, I have a licker, a pusher, a hitter, and a name caller…fresh out of bitters. So I take my little friend’s hand and she takes me to show me. Well, my whole class was gathered around this abnormally large, neon green grasshopper that was hanging out on the wall of the school. May be they are just extra big here in Africa as no one thought anything was weird about it, except me. My children were just fixated with it as they LOVE animals as we have been studying animals and looking at anything moves. My little friend points directly at the grasshopper, not at my students! I laugh to myself and pick her up and talk to her about the grasshopper, which she is now calling a ladybug. She communicated to me that it jumped on her shirt and I can just picture how it scared the beejeebers out of her! The poor thing! Honestly, she can’t really formulate sentences very well, so it’s more of patchwork language than anything with her, but I’m becoming really good at hearing her. I explain to her that it didn’t bite her and yes, that is scary and we had talked about being scared that morning. I have been triaging over this grasshopper for 2 days now. She might be scarred for life.

Today there was a very very small grasshopper on the wall in my classroom and she was very scared to say the least. She nearly lost it when it flew under a desk and was convinced it was in her hair. I hope this doesn’t mean she will hate bugs the rest of her life.

Being Sick In W. Africa = No Fun!

2009-11-18T17:29:00.002Z

I am sorry for not posting lately. I have been battling with my first Africa cold. I had the toe incident and as my toe healed I grew more sick. It’s like a sinus infection that ebbs and flows. This creates an “I’m better” thought and then the next day it rises up only to knock me flat again. I have looked like I’ve been hit by a train for almost a week now, but I’m not the only one. I know many people with it too. The local people swear it’s the change in weather. I’m not sure a 5-10 degree jump in the weather can create sickness like cold weather does in the states, but anything is possible I guess. I would like to mention that I rest and sleep a lot. There is nothing like laying in bed dripping sweat literally from all the pours in your body, while you’re sick knowing that you don’t have a fever and even the healthy people are this miserable. So I rest, take vitamin C, drink lots and lots of water, and have even been using my coveted alka-selzer plus cold medicine from America. Oh I sponge off with clean water to help me sleep too as my fan is still not fixed and I haven’t been well enough about nagging the guy who said he would fix it. I really need to have that done!
I hope that I’m feeling better soon as my roommate might just tie me up (along with one of my friends) and haul me to the doctor. I really don’t think I like this option as everyone I know who is sick has waited hours at the doctor or hospital. They were then given injections in their bottoms and sent home. All of them are still sick. I DO NOT want injections where the sun don’t shine, thank you very much.

But life continues to move along even though I’m sick. I witnessed a Voodoo parade last weekend, right down my street. These people were dressed in full costume and dancing to the drums other men carried. It was creepy and weird and I hope that it doesn’t happen again.
There was a dead chicken in the road earlier last week and my roommate swears that it was a voodoo sacrifice of some sort. I hope that this does not continue.

On another front, Roxy took her second moto ride to the vet. She is going to start her puppy shots (almost a month late…oops!) next Wednesday. I thought we would start when I actually took her to the vet but apparently he doesn’t make vaccination appointments on the phone and wants to look at her. Or I live in a society where there is a lot of red tape and nothing should be expected to be finished or done when you go the first time. Oh and I am seeing the government veterinarian. Oh the cycle.
The look on the Togolese children’s faces as I walked down the road to catch a moto was priceless. I had put Roxy in my backpack and let her head hangout (see picture below). I was quite a sight. Then the moto drivers didn’t even notice when I was speaking to them about where I was going and how much. It was funny. Just think, I get to do it all again next Wednesday too.
I have also posted a new picture of Roxy and I. She is huge now and grows every night, I swear! She’s great and I love her but trouble and stubborn are her middle names! I guess dogs do take after their masters. =-)

Part 2
I’m finally well after 2 and a half weeks of having a respiratory infection. Not so much fun, but today I got to smell for the first time! It’s too bad that it was such a hot day and all I really smelt was body odor of my students and the taxi moto drivers. All the same I’m happy to smell again!

technical difficulties

2009-11-13T18:15:00.003Z

OK I typed a few stories but blogger isn't letting me paste onto it...sorry I have to figure it out another day. Here are a few pictures of Roxy to show you how she is growing.

Do you see how much my baby is growing!??? I think sometimes she grows during the night.

Roxy after her second moto ride. What a big girl!

Injury Alert

2009-11-04T17:57:00.000Z

5 (or more) days ago I noticed that my right big toe was a little sore on the inner side but I didn’t’ think much of it. I went about my fun at the beach with friends and figured I would investigate later. That evening I discovered that I should trim a hang nail and the toenail itself and thought that was it. Nope. My toe continued to swell and turn various shades of pink, red, dark blue, and purple as the pain increased and I grew very sensitive to walking (my major mode of transportation here). I would like to say that for the last 5 days I have cleaned my toe with alcohol and used Neosporin. I even tried soaking in hot/warm water too. I’ve done a really good job keeping it clean considering the dust and sand everywhere here, but it has not stopped weeping or swelling. I was almost in tears the past 2 nights and I would like to state for the record this has put a damper on the fun I was planning for this vacation.
Julie began telling me 2 nights ago that we should call the doctor, but I was reluctant. I work closely with the doctor’s wife and I know him too, but I wasn’t ready to call a doctor over my toe just yet. I promised her that in another day if it wasn’t improving I would call him. Yesterday, my toe was not good and I walked entirely too much on it. It seemed to pound with each step and I dreaded having to walk home that evening. I was talking with my Togolese friend and shared with him about my toe for the second time this week. He told me that I should may be see a doctor and get an anti-biotic or they would need to cut open my toe. I tried to tell him that I didn’t like anti-biotics because they wipe out your immune system and since all my kids are sick and many adults are sick too I would be worried I catch some horrible strand of African stomach something or virus that knocks me out completely. This was al lost in communication and so he just encouraged me again to call the doctor. I told him one more night and then if it isn’t better tomorrow I will. His second offer was traditional medicine. I wasn’t so sure about that but he said that he would bring the product to my house that evening. Of course he shows up when I’m almost in tears and the power was out and my fan had broken. It wasn’t a great moment to say the least. My roommate and I were trying to figure out if I was just overheating or if I had a fever because of this infection in my toe. So he joined in with great concern. He inspected my toe by flashlight and then began applying the “traditional product” to my toe. It seemed to glow like something out of Little Shoppe of Horrors and it smelled like the strongest mentholadom that has ever been made. Vick has nothing on this stuff my friends. When he was finished he looked at me very seriously and told me that I needed to put if on every night and every morning. He told me he was very sorry for me and that he would check on me the next day. After he left I promised Julie I would call the doctor in the morning.

Dr. Erik came to the house at 12:30pm and gave me 2 prescriptions; an anti-biotic and an anti-inflammatory. He told me it would look a lot better by Sunday and that he would call me the next day to check on me. About an hour later my friend stopped by and wanted to know what the doctor said and how I was. He also inspected my toe today. I was relieved that he didn’t say anything else about the “traditional product”.

When Julie and I went to the pharmacy a man with the money symbol around his neck waited on us. Then I paid the cashier and read the ingredients to make sure I wasn’t allergic to any either of the medications. I was good to go and so we left. It’s amazing to me the amount of English that was used on the signs and instructions in the pharmacy, but I was thankful! I even saw a huge H1N1 poster and how to prevent the flu. I haven’t even heard about the flu since I left America at the end of August. I can only imagine what it is like there now.

I would like to end by saying that when you have something wrong it is easier to hide it and people don’t treat you like you’re handicapped before you see a doctor. It is after you have seen the doctor that people react in large ways. I will tell you that Julie hasn’t let me cook or even get out of the living room chair all day. My friend wouldn’t let me walk him to the door. Everyone just wants me to sit around and be waited on while I keep my foot propped up. This is great but there is only so much sitting that a girl can do (and I haven’t exactly been sitting around all week). I love that I have a great support system here and I should listen to them more. I foresee a speedy recovery with all the resting and medication over the next few days.

P.S. When you take anti-biotic they may cause you to be more susceptible to illness, especially when working with children who have snot pouring from their noses all day. I seem to have contracted something, but I hope that the vitamin C I lugged from America will help. But the good news is my toe is great and I am walking just fine again.

Bank Hell

2009-10-28T11:59:00.000Z

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!

Out of Hand Kindness

2009-10-28T11:39:00.002Z

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.

The Way Graduation Should Be

2009-10-23T18:20:00.000Z

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.

More Pictures!

2009-10-23T15:34:00.017Z

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 8 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.

Picture Time!!!!

2009-10-21T17:40:00.007Z

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.

The Wedding

2009-10-14T16:11:00.000Z

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.

Moto Rides

2009-10-14T16:10:00.000Z

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!

Potty Training & Other Puppy Fun

2009-10-14T16:07:00.001Z

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.

Finding The Beach

2009-10-07T18:10:00.001Z

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!

One Month!

2009-10-07T18:05:00.001Z

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.

The Pup

2009-09-25T16:36:00.002Z

Yes! I officially have the cutest puppy ever! She is 8 weeks old and I wish the internet was faster so I could show you all a picture of her! She is a Rottweiler German Sheppard mix. She can’t weigh more than 6 pounds dripping wet and she has these great big brown eyes and who can forget to mention her sweet puppy breath! You can’t tell I’m in love, can you?

My roommate and I got her at the Lucky Pet Shop down the road. Yes, even in Togo the Chinese have pet shops! We laughed at how similar we are because we could agree on a puppy completely in roughly 10 minutes. We also agreed that I’d be the primary trainer as she’s not so fond of that and I love the training. I carried the puppy over to show my friends and then home. When I walked in the gate my roommate asked me what I’d name her. I told her we should name her Roxy. It’s a tough chick name and besides my rock-star roommate in LA played at a club called Roxy and it just seemed fitting.

Roxy stumbles about with her big feet and little body. She is black with brown brindle and a white patch on her chest. You can’t help but laugh and smile when she’s around. I know she will love us and be a good guard dog as she is alert even at night when my roommate gets up for a drink of water. My roommate thinks that she loves me more already and it’s only been a few days. This is because Roxy follows me around and cries if I leave. I think she loves us both but I can understand that since I’m constantly looking out and caring for her I think that she is just more used to me. Roxy does sleep in my bed and we go out to the yard a few times each night. This is killing me but I know that in a few weeks she will sleep through the night.

She will visit the vet soon for her shots and check up. I am so happy to have her as I have had puppy fever for 2 years and now I have the space and time for a dog and this is perfect. I know some of you might wonder what I will do with her next year, but honestly I am considering staying. If I don’t stay one of my directors is a great guy and who loves dogs so he will gladly take her. For now she is ours and she is amazing and great! We are the three lovely ladies living in Lome!

The Break In

2009-09-23T16:31:00.001Z

Yesterday morning my roommate and I woke up and got ready for school as usual. We were almost ready to leave when I could hear my roommate start swearing in French. I went in to see what was wrong. Basically, someone had broken into our house during the night and went into the room where she keeps her laptop and they had stolen it. Then she realized that her camera, which was next to her bed, was also gone. This was way too much to process 10 minutes before we both had to be at school.

We start moving a little slowly as we processed and talked this over. She was completely heartbroken about almost 100 lesson plans she’d wrote on her computer. This is not to mention her music and pictures and movies that were also gone. As we talked it began to overwhelm me how this person had been just next to her bed as she was sleeping and I was so thankful that she was ok! Then it dawned on me that I had been very cold in the middle of the night and I’d been walking around in my room looking for a long sleeve shirt and then gone back to bed and how it could have been really bad if I’d seen the person. It truly sucks that this happened but I’m so thankful we are both ok.

We’ve talked about this over and over since that morning and a few stupid things that this person did include; leaving the computer cord that they had to have disconnected to take the laptop. Then she realized how her purse had been wide open with money sticking out of it and they didn’t touch it!

The resolve to satisfy other people in the way of security (and possibly you too) is that we are buying a dog. I figured that this is going to be better than hiring a guard as I can hug and kiss and train and sleep with the dog. The guard will just sit in the yard doing nothing and I’ll probably feel bad and have to feed him too. Plus, many of you know that I’ve had puppy fever for about 2 years now and this is the best reason for not just wanting but NEEDING a dog that I’ve every come up with. I’ll keep you posted on what kind, its name, and how our little family is doing when the newest member arrives officially.

Grand Marchet

2009-09-23T16:24:00.000Z

My roommate and I went to Grande Marchet (the grand market) this afternoon. I LOVED IT!!! If you’ve been to The Fashion District (or the allies) in Los Angeles it’s more chaotic and over-stimulating. I honestly think I can find almost anything there. There is the construction supplies street, the meat market, cloth, clothes from the U.S. in random baskets (including blue jeans), spices, peanut butter paste, cooking supplies, jewelry, fruit, and a million other things. You have all these things on the side of the road, on women’s heads, and on stands just off the street. The merchants call out to you as you try to make your way through all the people and squish to the side of the road when a car or truck actually drives down the road. It’s an amazing sight and I adored being there in all the energy and mixed in with all the people!
We were walking down the street and I was looking around and all of a sudden I felt something hit me on the shoulder and then I heard a crash behind me. A huge umbrella from one of the stands fell over and hit me. Everyone stopped dead in their spot and stared. Several people came up to me and basically said “white person are you ok?” I was fine and it wasn’t as traumatic for me as it was for them I think.

Answers To Questions From A Friend

2009-09-21T17:51:00.000Z

This post is dedicated to Jenni! I love you! Here are the answers to your questions and other fun facts about my life. I am sorry there are no pictures yet, just think slow dial-up and that is what it’s like here.

I must admit I am equally surprised that I have not ended Charlotte’s life as she is this very flat crab like grey spider with white stripes on her legs, but my roommate has me convinced that she is harmless…I hope that she is correct or Charlotte will be no more. Not to mention that anything that wants to eat mosquitoes is totally worth a chance.

I need to pause here and tell you that I brought my computer into school today and showed my kids all the animals I have managed to take pictures of over the years. I made sure to show them Ruby and said “ This is Ruby, she is a really big dog! Can you say hello to Ruby?” They responded in perfect unison in their 5 year old voices “Hello Ruby!” I wish you’d been there to see them. You would have loved it!
I also showed them all my pictures of creatures and flowers from hikes and how could I ever leave out THE Farm! They loved saying hello to all the animals too. I missed Burbank all morning.

Overall my days are very laid back and I love them. I teach for the morning and we are really doing school and then kids are progressing well. I feel like some are pushed so hard at home that I need to make sure they are playing and interacting as they learn. The overall thought to learning here is worksheet, worksheet, worksheet. I had one little boy removed from the program by his dad because I was not doing enough worksheets and the worksheets I did do were not challenging enough. The kids and I miss the little boy a lot and I hope he is ok in his new school.
In the afternoons, after siesta, I now go to the primary school to teach. It’s up the road the other direction (it’s where I first lived when I moved here). There is a class of kids there who are in the English speaking program. There are 6 children; two 2nd graders, one 3rd grader, two 4th graders, and a 5th grader. Since their teacher is not a trained teacher and has given her 2 weeks notice I have been asked to go and teach them and make sure they are learning in the afternoons on Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday. (On a side note if anyone would like to teach this class please let me know A.S.A.P.) This means I don’t get to teach English anymore, but that’s ok as I don’t think I was very good at it anyway.

You had a question about food. I am still eating the oatmeal that I brought from the states for breakfast but I know that this will end in a few weeks and so I’m exploring what fiber filled something I can eat to start my day when the oatmeal ends. I think there is a grain-like mush that I will turn to. There is so much fruit and vegetables that are sold on the side of the road for cheap so I eat a lot of those. Oh and please I can’t leave out all the break and starch! There is so much rice, pasta, couscous, and bread that it’s incredible! I am trying not to eat it very much but it’s here in large quantities!
For lunch my roommate and I dice up avocado, tomato, onions, and cucumber and eat it with bread or plain. We always end each meal with fruit like pineapple or papaya or oranges.
Dinner is always something thrown together in the skillet. Vegetables, rice, couscous, you get the idea. Oh!!! There was the exception last night! I was sitting with my friend having tea when my roommate came home and then left saying something about food. She came back with food she bought on the street. It was rice and cooked fish heads. Yes, my friends it wasn’t the body of the fish, only the head. My friend of course stayed to show us how to eat the eyes and brain and backbone since that is “where all the vitamins are”. I have to confess that the eye on my fork was too much for me and I passed it over to my friend, who gladly ate it.
I’ve had a lot of fish now that I think of it, but not much chicken and no other meat that I’m aware of. I was thinking about making some chicken but have heard that you have to go to the meat market and buy the meat there. I need to #1 find the meat market and #2 dare to enter the odorific place. I have seen lots of dead chickens with feathers and bizarre looks on their faces stuck in a large bowl/tub and balanced on women’s heads on the street. I don’t think I can do the plucking a chicken without some instructions. Some of you might know that I used to hide in the house while my parents butchered our chickens and I was allowed to play in mom’s jewelry box. That’s all I know about butchering chickens and oh something about needing hot water. So may be my friend will show me or even do it for me? It seems that everyone likes to do everything for me here anyway (laundry, cleaning, etc.) so we will see.

I hope this helps Jenni (and everyone else who had some questions). If you have more curious questions let me know, comment, e-mail, or facebook me. I LOVE hearing from the States and its fun to know what you might ask if we were sitting over tea or lunch talking.

Have a great day!

The Moto Experiences

2009-09-18T17:14:00.000Z

On Tuesday I went with my roommate and some French teachers to the pizza place to each the FLATEST pizza ever seen with human eyes and to watch a French chick-flick on a DVD projector…I don’t think the FBI would approve but this is all we have for a movie theater here so please don’t report this.
Oh but I first must mention the motorcycle (from now on known as moto or machine) ride to the place was one that I will never forget, ok may be they are all like this right now but I’m doing a lot of praying as I ride to say the least. My roommate negotiated the price in French and we got the 2 motos to take us. Well my moto driver had a ghetto machine and as we went up the small small hill I could see my roommate on her moto zooming ahead as I drifted to an almost stop. Then to top it off, when we got to the top to the hill the guy was clearly lost and didn’t know where to take me. He darted in and out of traffic, drove on the opposite lane (mind you it’s dark and there really aren’t street lights here). He turned around like Evil Coeval himself, and then ground to a halt in the street to ask where this place was. Then we zoomed off. He then took another wrong turn and pretty much repeated this cycle again. But he got me there eventually. My roommate text me and called me and was worried but very happy to see me when I did get to the place. I feel like I should have been more concerned but I just remember thinking that he gets paid the same amount if he gets lost or not so I’ll get there eventually.
The movie was ok. I couldn’t really see the subtitles but the point of going was to listen to French since I speak English all day I don’t really get much French immersion and I desperately needed a little more.

Believe it or not I took another moto later on in the week, by myself, and he also got lost and expected me to communicate the directions…yeah, that was funny. But I got there after stopped to ask a few people where I was trying to go. All was well. I got home with no difficulty. I suppose that it’s just living and learning.

Moving

2009-09-16T16:53:00.000Z

This morning I moved to the house down the street. My friend has been living here for the past 2 weeks or so and I visit almost daily and so this is logical and I’m so happy to live in a house where I will have a kitchen, but don’t think modern here. It’s like camping but it’s a small room with a propane stove (no oven), a double sink, and a small refrigerator. Then there is a stall-like room that is the shower and small stall-like room with a toilet that is jimmy-rigged together, but it works and that’s what counts I guess.
My room is a nice size, bigger than at the compound and I even get a double bed and the mattress is VERY firm to say the least. I guess it’s either super soft and squishy foam or the firm version. I’m happy to have the firm so this is good. I also have a desk and two shelves. Our small coffee table that doubles as a dining room table with the four chairs can easily transported outside under our grass roofed awning to enjoy the ocean breeze over the walls of our yard. Oh and we have a coconut tree in our yard too. I just need to figure how to get the 10 or so cocoanuts out of the tree now.

My friend and I cleaned the house and I unpacked today. We had the chauffer and guardian in for coffee when they dropped me off this morning and that was fun. I realized that I’m picking up on certain key words and so I can kinda sorta follow a basic conversation. That was a nice and exciting moment this morning too. Then the guardian made sure that the school’s carpenter guy came over later and helped me to hang my mosquito net here. I was very grateful as the way my ceiling is constructed it wasn’t so easy.

Many of the Togolese workers at the school were sad that I was moving and told me on and off during the week how they were sad I was moving. It kinda felt like everyone was saying good-bye like I was moving back to the U.S. I love that I have a community here already!

I don’t need to go and get any pets here as I have much wildlife that lives here (in the house too). We have Paula the lizard who lives outside in the yard, Lizzy the small lizard who runs around inside the house, the gecko that lives in the kitchen, Charlotte the HUGE spider that lived in my roommate’s room but decided that my widow is a better spot. So I won’t count or name the mosquitoes, ants, and various birds but they are also ever present. Life is good.

Please remember that anyone is welcome to visit and there is a third bedroom in the house too. It would be great to have a familiar face to show around town.

How I Got My Cell Phone

2009-09-09T16:43:00.000Z

On Thursday morning I saw the man who helps us (Americans) get things. He is basically our “go to man” if you will. As I spoke with him I explained that I had money to buy a cell phone now and when he had time I would like to get one from him. He told me that I should meet him at the compound where I currently live at noon to give him the money and to get the phone.
At noon I made sure to get to the compound on the dot so I could get a phone. Well, he took my money and said that another man was coming at 12:30 to give me my phone. I went and visited with another teacher and then came back to the office at 12:20 and the office was closed up for siesta. So I sat and began talking to the guard or guardian as they call his position here. This is the man who lifts cement weights. I thought I heard him say that my phone was in the office and the office would open at 1. At 1:15 I asked again and he said it would be 2:30 when the office opened and yes, my phone was in the office. I laughed and chalked this up to my inability to understand French, but I had a good time talking with the guardian so it wasn’t a waste of time. I’m not really sure there is such a thing as wasting time here in Togo.
So I returned at 5pm after school to the office at the compound and the guardian said yes, my phone was in the office. I went into the office and asked the secretariate if she had seen my phone. She told me that she gave it to another American who lives in the compound too. So I went up to the third floor to check it out. Nope, he told me that he didn’t have it but he thought that the lady who cleans and cooks for the kids where we stay might have it. So when she returned I asked her (with his help) and I got my phone!

They explained that the charger was plugged into the phone and I would need to charge the phone ALL night. So I did it. Yeah, the person who plugged the charger into the phone put it into the earphone jack instead of the charging plug. So it clearly didn’t charge. I plugged it in to charge correctly and it seemed to be charging all day on Friday. The “go to man” saw me and asked about the phone and explained that if it didn’t work a man would come and replace it right then. He’s so nice and I really appreciated him. It seems that there are so many people that see me as a white person that they could take advantage of financially and especially since I can’t speak French I’m a walking sucker.

Then of course I had to add to this excitement, it’s the Nina way don’t you know. I got excited about the phone and start giving people my number, but I wrote down the wrong number. After figuring this out I had to apologize and correct this error over the course of several days. It’s so funny and so far everyone has been forgiving and nice.

I continue to learn that things have a different rhythm here in Togo and it’s beautiful but stretches me at the same time to leave my American thought pattern aside. I know that after living here I will never be to same.

First Day of School

2009-09-02T15:30:00.004Z

Today was like breathing clean fresh air! It was the first day of school and I was at peace and in love with teaching and kids just like so many years ago when I started. The classroom is where I belong and what I plan on doing forever!
I had 5 students and we went through our day with joy and ease. They are all 5 years old and on many levels (some should be in 1st grade so we will see how that goes). We designed Science Journals, read a story, wrote some words, had snack & recess, did some math with shapes. I can honestly say that I was sad when the end of the day smacked me in the face. I am looking forward to tomorrow.

It seems that I can access the internet at the secondary school's computer lab on Wednesdays and Fridays. I hope to do so. I will be here between 3 and 5pm my time (west coast of Africa that is) so if you are online and want to chat via gmail or Skype that would be fun and nice to hear from friends. Please if you have comments or questions just post them here on the blog or e-mail me. I know that there must be things that you are wondering about life here and I'd love to share.

There is talk of moving me out of the compound and into a house with my Belgium friend, so next week I might move down the street. It would be nice but I guess the plumbing in the kitchen, shower, and the toilet are broken at the moment and I'd like to stay where I am until it's fixed, but we will see. I know that a bed was purchased but not yet assembled for me. Oh and by bed I would like you to imagine a very rudimentary twin bed with a 3 or 4 inch piece of foam for the mattress. This is pretty much what I sleep on now but I heard that it might be a 5 or 6 inch piece of foam at the house. The upgrade would be nice and welcomed. lol!

Aug 30th

2009-09-02T15:29:00.001Z

I started work today in my classroom. It was quite a task. Basically, everything was thrown into plastic bags and into this random armoire cabinet thingie in my room. So I began cleaning it out. At first the girl helping me was apprehensive and felt that it wasn’t ok to throw crafts away even if the construction paper was faded and there were dirt spots on it. She flat out told me “We never clean out that cabinet, we just put things in it.” I threw 2 trash bags of old stuff in the trash and it was good. Heaven help us if I had to keep it all year! Throughout the course of the morning I found hairy spiders, a beetle, a gecko, and 2 HUGE roaches (like I used to find in my classroom in L.A.) in various spots arounf my room. I’m glad that the lizards that run around outside stayed outside!
Oh and I should mention that there are 2 bunnies that live in the playground area at my school! I wish Fred, my bunny, were here too. So today I brought each bunny a carrot and fed them. I have already set up a container in my kitchen to keep vegetable scraps for them. I will keep you posted on what I name them.

After everyone had left for siesta I continued to work and sort and throw old things away and then hang up boarders for my word walls and organized the tables and chairs. My Belgium friend stopped by and asked if I wanted to go to the library with her. I said yes. We worked a bit more and then I grabbed a quick lunch at the compound and met her. We decided to take a moto. Yes my friends I took my first African motorcycle ride today. After we flagged down 2 motos (which was funny because they are always empty passing you by when you are walking but now that we wanted one there wasn’t an empty moto in sight!) she haggled for the price and then we were off. Now you hang onto the rack that is behind you while seated on the moto and your feet rest on these make-shift peddles, that is when you’re feet aren’t bouncing all over because of the bumps. I think that my moto guy hit almost all the potholes just for fun. I tried not to laugh and smile as I already stuck out being the second white lady on a moto flying through Lome behind my friend on the moto in front of me. I’m sure this was a funny sight!

After the library, which was really a bookstore, we walked to the bank but had to ask directions a few times. Then we had to go to a different bank which required asking more directions. At one such encounter she was talking to this security man about which way and how far (as my French is super horrible and almost non existent) and another security man walks up to her and apparently says “It’s not far don’t worry, but I want to marry her” and he points at me. I smile obliviously. He repeats it and then she translates. I then point to the wedding ring I’m wearing for such occasions. This man is undeterred, so we walk away and laugh about these crazy men thinking we would say yes.

We eventually walked back to the compound and then to the secondary school campus to see if we can get online. No such luck. But we were in the right place at the right time and the principal took our passports to get our work visas. This is good as my visa expires in 3 days.

This evening I did venture to experience a cyber café after dinner. These were computers that are regularly discarded in America, you know the huge monitors that are discolored orange plastic. So I get on and it’s slow…slower than the Wi-Fi we used to get on the roof. Then I realize the letters on the keys are painted with whiteout but they are also all mixed up! Oh for the love of Pete I couldn’t find the period key to save my life. I finally asked and felt like it was my first computer class ever! I struggled with other punctuation and never did find the question mark. The man did come over and help me a few more times but as helpful as this was it attracts the wrong kind of attention so the girl next to me (who was just hanging out) starred quite a bit.
I got an e-mail from one of my kids in L.A. I almost cried for the first time. It made me miss all 7 of my kids there, but it also made me feel loved and remembered and it touched me deep in my heart. I can see that this year will have some very lonely moments and its small things like e-mails that will make me remember good times and that I’m not forgotten.

So I had another fun day in Lome! I hope as you reflect on your day you can see the joy and silliness that life has brought for you to enjoy too.

August 30th

2009-09-02T15:28:00.000Z

The market was big; however, I was with other people and I didn’t get to explore all of it. I know that next time I will see more and more as The Grand Marche is huge. We were mostly in the fruit and vegetable area but I did see tubs of dead chickens balanced on the heads of men and flopping with each stride the man took. I saw the empty bottles from vaccinations being sold, and I smelled the sea air mixed with people and waste of all kinds. I would have liked to take more pictures but I feel it would only increase my chances of being mugged at the market so I will collect pictures little by little.

The girls I was at the market with, and I walked almost an hour back to the school compound. I thought it was half this distance but trekking in the periodic rain, carrying heavy bundles from the market was a bonding experience. I guess my new friends are women not girls as one is an older lady who has been living in northern Togo for over 9 years and she is very sweet. We share a common area, kitchen, and restroom in the dorm on the 3rd floor of the Primary School compound campus. There are 3 campuses in all, so I teach at campus about 4 blocks away. The other woman is a little younger than I am and is from Belgium. She speaks French and teaches at the Secondary Campus up the street the other way. She speaks more English than I speak French so we communicate in English mostly, but she is helping me learn some things in French. She also has a house that is in between the compound where I live and the school I teach at so it is easy to walk down the street to see her.
Yesterday she had several of us over for dinner and it was so nice. Then some people went home and she and I and 2 other people went to a Jazz Club here in Lome. I was impressed until the band played the ‘Call Me Al’ song by Paul Simon and the singer didn’t know hardly any words, but the music was good. They played American, French, and African songs while people listened and danced. I had a nice time and even observed a group of the white men who brought African women out as dates/escorts/prostitutes…there is nothing new under the sun.

Today my Belgium friend and I went for a walk along the beach. I am an eight minute walk to the waves lapping my toes. I never would have thought that I could live closer to the beach than I was in L.A. but I am right now and it’s AWESOME! The beach was nice but you could tell how powerful the undertow was so we just walked and watched and chatted some. When we sat for a moment 2 Togolese guys came and sat on each side of us and were hitting on us. This is common as they don’t see us as anything but a visa and way out of Togo. So the guy who was talking to me realized that I don’t speak French so he had some English so we chatted a bit, but he was confused why my friend spoke French and I didn’t and wanted to know how we communicated and I told him in English some. He wanted to know how long I was planning to stay in Togo and per my friend’s idea and advise the other night you tell these men years or that you are moving here and they lose interest rather quickly. So I told him that I was going to teach in Togo for many many years. The look on his face was classic and he truly did lose interest. It was so funny and my friend and I laughed at this later.

Life is good and I am getting more and more settled as the days pass. I am getting used to the children on the streets or the young people saying ‘bon jour yovo’ as I pass, which is basically ‘hello white person’. I just crack up as they don’t mean it to be rude but to point out what they see. Most people speak to me on the street and the kids all look and waive as some don’t know French yet. I really live in Africa and I like it. I mean it isn’t always comfortable but I know that this is overall a life experience I won’t forget. I will write more about the boy with the broke leg who lives next the compound I live in, he is so adorable.

Oh, one sad thing that happened today was the discovery that our rooftop free Wi-Fi has been locked and so now we need to go to the Secondary School to use the internet. Se la vi.

August 28, 2009

2009-08-28T22:15:00.001Z

Today I arrived in Lome, but it is the journey here that has made this arrival so sweet. Let me begin yesterday and work forward.
In Kansas City there was some difficulty with charging me for all the extra weight in my FOUR suitcases and while dealing with that they began calling my name over the P.A. announcing it was the final boarding call, I had some how been put on standby for the flight that left an hour ahead of my scheduled flight. This only caused all the blood in my face to drain and my stomach lurch, but this was all remedied when the man behind the counter explained things to me and then basically charged me quickly, wished me luck, and shooed me away.
In Chicago I made instant friends with Isaac, a 7 year old Ghanan boy traveling with his mother. We quickly discovered we were sharing the next 2 flights. During the second flight I read and played with Isaac and talked some with his mom too. I guess it was a good thing that I carried some of the children’s books in my carry-on! Issac even came to sit with me since the flight was not very full. Everyone began to think he was mine. Isaac’s mom was happy to have some time to sleep too.
In Accra, Isaac’s mom and I collected our bags (thank goodness they all arrived!) and waited for each other to go through Immigration. She also made sure that I had a taxi and her number too. She asked me to call her when I get a phone.

My taxi driver took me to check the bus times for the next day, to change money, and to find my guesthouse. I have to admit that as we drove away from the airport and into the city of Accra I thought for a moment that I really must be crazy because I did just move to Africa, for real! But then a few more blocks passed and I realized that this was good and I was at peace again. When we arrived at the guesthouse the people said that it was full even though there seemed to be many keys that were in the slots. I suspect they were not interested in renting me a room. The taxi driver, however, told me not to worry and he would take me to another hotel. It turned out well, with the exception of the last minute fumigation of my room while I checked in. Thank goodness for fans!
They prepared vegetables and fish for me and it was a bit of an a-ha moment when the fish was served with the head, eyeballs, and tale still attached to the cooked fish, but it was good. I refrained from eating the eyeballs, head, and tale for anyone who was wondering.

It was a very long night as I continued to wake up wondering what time it was. I even went down to the desk to check the time a few times. Then it was finally time to leave for the morning bus. The taxi driver that I got seemed to know less about traveling around Accra than I did as he took me to the wrong bus station even when I told him it was not the correct place, but we eventually got there. As I paid for my bus ticket a man told me to “hurry, hurry!” and I began to rush like in America; however no one else seemed to hurry any so I slowed down a bit as to not stick out so much. The lady I bought my ticket from noted the dirt on my shirt and I realized the taxi driver’s seatbelt was so dirty that it rubbed off on me. Now I was not only the only white woman as far as the eye could see but the dirty white woman among the cleanest dressed people. Now not everyone smelled great but they looked clean, for sure. I opted to change my outer shirt on the bus and just get these crazy heavy bags loaded. In the end I paid some boy to throw them into the back of the bus, the taxi driver ripped me off and we both knew it but I didn’t have all day to haggle over a small amount, so I got on the bus and took it in stride.
Now the bus I got on was scheduled to leave over an hour earlier, so I lucked out catching that bus. This 3 hour plus bus ride was through city, country, and then along the ocean. I saw many men peeing along the road, a placed called Ghollywood at the side of the road, markets with vibrant colors that in contrast to all the dust coated tin roofs seemed surreal. I saw what seemed like untouched land, and flooded towns near the ocean. The man next to me explained that those places flood each year and the people leave and then move back when the waters subside. I saw women carrying eggs, mash, fruit, kabobs, and peanuts on their heads rushing the bus as we stopped. People piled off the bus the relieve themselves and purchase goods. The bus stalled, ground gears, and backfired all along the trip, it was great! I loved it.

At the boarder the bus pulled into a compound and since my bags were piled in the back of the bus with 1,000 rolls of toilet paper, literally!!! The bus driver would not open the back doors of the bus, instead insisted that my bags should be unloaded out of the front door of the bus. I felt that was foolish. The next thing I knew these women congregated and began to unload all T.P. out the back of the bus, so sure enough when a man yelled as them to stop they turn and unload all my bags. I caught on quickly that they were just there to make a buck and expected to be paid for work even though they were not hired. When they saw all my of my bags and me they point and laugh and it was horrible. Then they want me to pay them to carry my bags. I felt their nerve to mock me and then want my money was too much, even though it’s just Africa I refused. I then strapped my bags together and pulled them. A second crowd of women gathered and wanted to help. This time a man who spoke English asked me why I just didn’t hire someone to carry the bags. In the end those women carried my bags and this man supervised the whole crossing, he said because he didn’t want anything except me to be safe. I am a sucker, but he at least had a sense of humor and joked and told people I was his wife. The 100 yards to the boarder was a blur of officials, people crossing, huge trucks, and then under all the noise I knew the ocean waves were crashing too. I remember thinking that I was missing all the beauty around me, but I had to keep my eyes and senses alter for now. It was chaos with added stress of people ordering me around and demanding money. My friend pointed the way and broke it down to me when my bags were searched because I didn’t pay enough of a bribe. He pointed out all the checkpoints I had to go through (Ghana exit stamp, Ghana customs bribe, Togo Immigration, Togo customs, and the crossing bribe too). Please don’t forget paying the women who carried my bags, and both men I had to pay to use their phones to call my principal.
I’d never met my principal before but I knew when I saw the Iranian man approaching that I had pictured him wrong in my head. We got my bags loaded and my so called good willed friend asked my principal for a bribe. My western sense of right and wrong was angry as I watched this from inside the car. It just comes with the territory and no one thinks that way here.
My principal took me to the school to drop off my bags, later I would find out I would live at the Primary School compound and work at the Kindergarten Compound down the street. I was taken directly to his house where his mom had made lunch and his mom and dad and he and I ate lunch and talked. Their family story is so interesting but they settled here in Lome almost 30 years ago to serve the community. I enjoyed meeting them and then returned to the compound where I live and unpacked. Right now all of our meals are prepared by a Togolese woman who works here and cleans and whatnot. It’s nice but I feel bad. Tomorrow my kitchen stuff should arrive and I can start shopping and cooking on my own or with my roommate. I meant to take a walk too but it gets dark at 6:20pm as we are so close to the equator. There is almost exactly 12 hours of daylight and dark. I did manage to find free wi-fi on the roof of the compound and sent the e-mail to everyone that I had arrived. I think that it’s what I expected in many ways but better in others. I’m glad I am here.

So my journey here is complete and I begin my teaching journey now. Pictures will be loaded soon.

Preparation

2009-07-30T04:21:00.002Z

This past month I have packed up my life in Los Angeles and now I begin my rounds of good-byes. I am grateful for amazing friends who are so dear to my heart and I know that even the Atlantic Ocean will not diminish that bond. I continue to be amazed at how this dream I've held in my heart for so long, to live overseas, has been falling into place like it is a gift just for me. I pray that this journey will be amazing and I will be a good steward of my time while I'm in Lome.
I am looking forward to this time in Togo and feel my heart swelling with anticipation! Only 28 days until I leave! YEAAAAA!

The Beginning...

2009-06-30T16:39:00.002Z

On June 11, 2009 I signed a contract with Arc-en-Ciel International School in Lome Togo to teach the English speaking Kindergarten class for this coming school year. I know that this is the beginning of a what I've hoped and prayed that this year would be...adventure and change. I want to live with more meaning, not just for my students.

I've bought a new rolling duffel bag, some bug spray, a mosquito net, a huge hat to shade me from the sun and off I go. I leave with my 3 suitcases to this amazing new land on August 25th.

Togo is a French speaking country on the West Coast of Africa that boarders Ghana, Burkina Faso, & Benin. I will live in the capitol city Lome, which is right on the ocean and a 15 minute drive from the Ghana boarder.

Please join me on this journey and subscribe (follow), read, and comment on my days in Africa.