A Collection of Random Events: Part One

IIn all honesty, I’ve been having trouble keeping a diary in Togo. In France, I wrote all the time, everyday. In Togo, I’ve found it a challenge to write about my daily activities; 70 percent of which account for domestic chores—although slightly different from those in the US, not particularly newsworthy.

On the contrary, I’ve occasionally had random two-to-three-minute conversations with Togolese I consider to be worthy of sharing with people Stateside.

For the sake of avoiding any headaches, I’ve translated such conversations from French to English. Naturally.

EVENT NUMBER ONE:

[I’m in the market in search of a few necessities and stroll up to my regular bread vendors.]

Three female bread vendors at once: “Hello my sister! Welcome! How are you? And the trip? And the morning? And work? You want bread? Salty or sweet? 100 cfa, 100 cfa…or 200 cfa, 200 cfa.”

Me: “Hello ladies! How are you? And the night? And the morning? And the kids? And the health? And the bread?!”

I often purchase produce from various vendors, however, I rotate some regulars so they have the opportunity to see my face and get a “gift” from me from time to time.

[I ignore one vendor because I recently purchased bread from her and turn to another on her left. I ask for salty bread and pay the woman 200 cfa.

This did not sit well with the neglected vendor.

Neglected vendor: “What?!?! But I showed you my bread! Oh…you’re not nice.”

Me: “I’m not nice?! I just bought bread from you the other day. Don’t be mad. I have to buy bread from your friend today so she can profit from the white person as well.”

Today’s bread vendor: “Yeah! You ate yesterday. I will eat today. She’s nice! Everyone should have an opportunity to profit from the white person. You’re not the chief of the city!”

[We all laugh together, but the neglected woman is still pissed.]

Me: “Good work ladies. Have a nice day. Madam, over there, I’ll buy bread from you tomorrow. I promise.”

[And the neglected vendor shoots me a smile.]

Phew. That was a close one.

EVENT NUMBER TWO:

[In a restaurant with my friend Robert.]

Robert: “Your friend in village…she’s like a man.”

He’s of course referring to her short hair, her solidly built physique, her lack of wearing skirts and dresses, and the fact that she smokes.

Me: “She’s tough, for sure, but very much a woman.”

Robert: “I find it strange that she smokes.”

Me: “Oh really, why? A lot of people smoke in Togo. My friend in village doesn’t have a mini market, but people sell cigarettes, tchakpa and sodobe.”

Robert: “Yes, but have you ever seen a Togolese woman smoking a cigarette?”

Whoa.

Me: [With an inquisitive regard] “Okay. You’re right. I’ve seen several female PCVs smoking but never once have I seen a Togolese woman smoke a cigarette. That’s bizarre. Why is that?!”

Robert: “Here, in Togo, women don’t smoke because female smokers are viewed/labeled as bandits.”

Me: “What?! [I laugh out loud.] You’re joking. That’s crazy. Really?”

Robert: “Yes, it’s true. If someone sees a woman smoking, he or she believes this woman takes part in le banditisme (bandit behavior).”

Me: “Wow. Well then. I might just pass that little tidbit to my friends.”

I haven’t yet asked women how they feel about this, but I’ll slip in a question here and there to get some answers. Timing is everything, as is the women I choose to ask.

Until next time, or until A Collection of Random Events: Part Two…

Une Petite Vacance à Kpalimé

After IST, Katy Todd (a fellow Savaner) and I were itching for a break. We itched for it probably because of a swarm of mosquitoes in Pagala. Ha! I know, I know. Bad joke. But honestly, I have enough self-control to resist the temptation to scratch a few mosquito bites. If, however, my body becomes an open bar for all mosquitoes resulting in more than 15 bites…I deem it as grounds for BLACK SWANNING. Black Swanning?? This action occurs when a person—one who has lost all self-control—scratches the bite until the bite becomes an open wound, i.e., until it bleeds. Moments like those I become quite the hypocrite for having previously slapped the hands of other Volunteers who did their own Black Swanning. My take on it: More than ten bites at one time warrants the action.

Katy and I left Atakpamé the Sunday after IST. What should have been a 45-minute taxi ride to Kpalimé was unfortunately a three-hour ride to Kpalimé. The road—or more so the rocky dirt path—we traveled on was by far the worst I’ve experienced in Togo. And once we finally reached a flat surface that resembled a paved road just shy of Kpalimé, I barely sat still with so much excitement. The cherry on the ice cream was the moment I bonded with an older gentleman—one I was actually sitting on because there were so many people crammed in the taxi. Moments before Kpalimé, the vieux lifted his right hand, extended his index finger, swiped it on my arm and showed me the dirt that once plastered my skin from the voyage. He then said with a smile, “You’re dirty.” Haha! Shall I reciprocate dear sir?

It took us approximately an hour to find a hotel room. Who knew we needed to make a hotel reservation in Togo?! (Note: Lomé and Kpalimé are probably the only two cities where it makes sense to make a reservation. Unfortunately, we missed that memo.) We stayed at Hotel Cristal for 15,000fcfa per night, which included air-conditioning, hot showers and a TV. Whoa. Living the big life!

After I showered my first hot shower in five months, I was on cloud nine. It was undoubtedly the first time I felt clean in Togo. And after my allergies flared up in Pagala, the STEAM certainly cleared those sinuses.

Among the few activities Katy and I planned for our petite vacance, the first plan of action was to dine at the Belgian restaurant called Bon Vivant. The restaurant was talked up by other Volunteers like tour guides did of the Empire State Building in NYC, so of course we had to go! Oh mon dieu. It was divine. We ordered a burger and a bottle of CHILLED red wine to toast to our three-month anniversary at post. My friends, I can’t even begin to describe the magnificence of our dining experience.

The following morning we attempted to hang-glide in small village near Kpalimé, but alas, time was an issue. We didn’t have it.

On the contrary, we had time to shop! We also took motos to the top of a mountain for some fresh air to see waterfalls and the remarkable view.

Bottom photo: I bought a couple paintings in a small village on top of a mountain and the artist said only natural materials are used. (See photo.)

Overall, it was a lovely break from Training and Dapaong. At the same time, both Katy and I couldn’t wait to get back home. Traveling in the U.S. is exhausting, but traveling in Togo…there are no words.

I think Lonely Planet wrote it best:

“…getting around without your own transport requires the patience of a saint and the determination of a fighter.”

Yeah… K

In-Service Training in Pagala

In-Service Training, or IST for the acronym inclined, is required of all PCVs; and it occurs three months after moving to post. IST is located in Pagala, southeast corner of the Centrale region. What’s it like there? Ever been to summer camp? It’s precisely that, well, that plus several technical sessions in French, a bit of Togolese food mixed with faux-American food, an empty pool, and lots of mosquitoes. Volunteers shared rooms together (two to one room) in cabins similar to those I often found in Michigan—minus the beautiful lakeside view.

We ate every single meal together in a dining hall and we also rendezvoused for a café break twice a day for five days. Whoa, I know. We often divided into our designated programs (CHAP and SED) to review information relevant to our goals and objectives. CHAP Trainers, for instance, informed PCVs on latrine projects, how to train health workers, how to give proper health talks to young adults, and the malaria campaign in Togo. Needless to say, it was tiresome for new PCVs to go from a laidback schedule to one that resembled a bit like boot camp—sans intense physical activities.

For the most part, the week in Pagala was pleasant. I ate well—probably, no most definitely, ate too much. I played games (ping-pong, Frisbee, chess, volleyball (with a soccer ball) and basketball); I watched a movie (X-Men: First Class…a bit disappointing); and on the last day of IST we all dressed up and celebrated Halloween together.

After just five months with PC Togo, I learned to appreciate one pivotal fact: The experience is what you make of it. Yes, PCVs have several guidelines to follow throughout service. Yes, PCVs often share ideas with one another and dive into cross-sector collaboration. These statements are very true, but also it is the responsibility of the Volunteer to assess the needs of his or her community. For me, it’s nutrition, hygiene and sanitation. It was nice to receive positive remarks on my project ideas from other Volunteers and Trainers during IST. Encouragement. Encouragement. Encouragement!

So, what’s my plan?

• Set up a stand in my market and educate the community on basic nutrition.
• Perfect the recipe for moringa juice and work with young adult groupements who may be able to prepare and sell the juice for a profit. (IGA: income generating activity.)
• Attend sporting events every Saturday at Collège Saint Anthanese and do health talks on nutrition with young students.

What will I need to succeed?

• Time
• Preparation
• A Moba translator
• Proper materials
• Money (I will most likely be obliged to pay for my spot at the market)

I think this plan is pretty realistic and applicable to the needs of my community. I just need to remind myself to have patience.

On verra.

Oh…and I just couldn’t resist a photo of this snail I saw in Pagala. I’ve seen so many in Togo I had to capture one! Always reminds me of The Bucket List:

Jack Nicholson on Buddhism:

“What does a snail have to do to reincarnate? Leave a perfect trail of slime?!”