Telephones, Cell Phones and Beeps

I’ve never really enjoyed talking on the phone. In fact, I loathed and feared it as a young adult. During the awkward stage of braces, I begged my mom to call and schedule all my orthodontist appointments and to top, I hid in my room hoping that either my mom or dad called for pizza.

In high school, I rarely called my friends after school. It certainly wasn’t because I didn’t like them, nor was it because I lacked friends. I simply just preferred / continue to prefer one-on-one conversations. And I’d like to believe my close high school friends knew I still liked them even though I rarely called. I also tried to make up for it by chatting during extracurricular activities such as yearbook, volleyball, French club, etc.

In college, the world of technology threw me a bone, and it wasn’t just because cell phones were a must-have. It was because technological geniuses invented texting. What a Godsend!! Of course there are texting maniacs who text on their phones—WITH BOTH HANDS—as though they’re playing on a DS. This in itself is also the very reason I have never owned a cell phone similar to a sidekick (or a flip phone that opens up into a keyboard). Sorry if I offend those who own one but you look like an idiot walking on the street, texting with both hands.

In Togo, I envisioned PCVs only using cell phones for emergencies or the occasional freak-out call between PCVs. “Why am I here?!” “Two years? Holy shit?!” What? PCVs don’t have freak-outs.  But anyways, as to be expected, my ideas of PC life changed once I arrived in Togo. Truthfully, PCVs text all the time. We text about work, social life, insects we find in our houses, and even bowel movements. But this post isn’t about phone interactions from PCV to PCV. This post—finally getting to the point—is about Togolese communicating with PCVs via cell phone.

How could it be different?

Well, Togolese beep. Beep? Think of your cell phone as a pager. Why do they beep? More often than not, it’s because they don’t have enough phone credit—because most African countries are on a pay-as-you-go system—to call or even text. OR…Togolese assume that PCVs have money to return their beep with a phone call. Unfortunately, as PCVs, we’re not exactly rolling in the dough, which some Togolese understand but not all. No matter if they get it or not, it doesn’t stop me from saying to a Togolese “PAS DE BEEPS!” if he or she asks for my number. I once played this game of beep tag, which meant I played five rounds of a Togolese beeping me and me returning the beep with a beep. Evening entertainment if you will.

What else is different?

Togolese call just to say “Hey.” Sure, grandmothers and distant aunts call to catch up or just say “Hey,” but here even strangers or random Togolese work partners call to say “Hello” and that’s it. Literally, that’s it.

Here’s an example:

A possible work partner (PWP) calls me one day after meeting me.

PWP: “Hello.”

Me: “Hello.”

PWP: “It’s so-and-so from this-and-that, you remember?”

Me: [Searching my brain for a name with no luck.] “Oh yes, hello, how are you?”

PWP: “I’m good. Just calling to say ‘Hello.’”

Me: “Okay, well hi.”[Awkward silent pause.]

PWP: “Alright, have a good night.”

Me: “You too.”

Ummmmmm…what?! Was that really worth 100CFA? It’s a sweet thought, but really, come on Togo.

The call just to say “Hey” is definitely a cultural struggle for me. Sure after 16 months I’ve learned to brush off the little things but every so often I do implement Operation Screen Togolese Calls to bring a bit of peace to my life.

No doubt this PC Togo experience halts any desire to own a pager in America. And I think I can live with that.

Until next time…J

Telephones, Cell Phones and Beeps

I’ve never really enjoyed talking on the phone. In fact, I loathed and feared it as a young adult. During the awkward stage of braces, I begged my mom to call and schedule all my orthodontist appointments and to top, I hid in my room hoping that either my mom or dad called for pizza.

In high school, I rarely called my friends after school. It certainly wasn’t because I didn’t like them, nor was it because I lacked friends. I simply just preferred / continue to prefer one-on-one conversations. And I’d like to believe my close high school friends knew I still liked them even though I rarely called. I also tried to make up for it by chatting during extracurricular activities such as yearbook, volleyball, French club, etc.

In college, the world of technology threw me a bone, and it wasn’t just because cell phones were a must-have. It was because technological geniuses invented texting. What a Godsend!! Of course there are texting maniacs who text on their phones—WITH BOTH HANDS—as though they’re playing on a DS. This in itself is also the very reason I have never owned a cell phone similar to a sidekick (or a flip phone that opens up into a keyboard). Sorry if I offend those who own one but you look like an idiot walking on the street, texting with both hands.

In Togo, I envisioned PCVs only using cell phones for emergencies or the occasional freak-out call between PCVs. “Why am I here?!” “Two years? Holy shit?!” What? PCVs don’t have freak-outs.  But anyways, as to be expected, my ideas of PC life changed once I arrived in Togo. Truthfully, PCVs text all the time. We text about work, social life, insects we find in our houses, and even bowel movements. But this post isn’t about phone interactions from PCV to PCV. This post—finally getting to the point—is about Togolese communicating with PCVs via cell phone.

How could it be different?

Well, Togolese beep. Beep? Think of your cell phone as a pager. Why do they beep? More often than not, it’s because they don’t have enough phone credit—because most African countries are on a pay-as-you-go system—to call or even text. OR…Togolese assume that PCVs have money to return their beep with a phone call. Unfortunately, as PCVs, we’re not exactly rolling in the dough, which some Togolese understand but not all. No matter if they get it or not, it doesn’t stop me from saying to a Togolese “PAS DE BEEPS!” if he or she asks for my number. I once played this game of beep tag, which meant I played five rounds of a Togolese beeping me and me returning the beep with a beep. Evening entertainment if you will.

What else is different?

Togolese call just to say “Hey.” Sure, grandmothers and distant aunts call to catch up or just say “Hey,” but here even strangers or random Togolese work partners call to say “Hello” and that’s it. Literally, that’s it.

Here’s an example:

A possible work partner (PWP) calls me one day after meeting me.

PWP: “Hello.”

Me: “Hello.”

PWP: “It’s so-and-so from this-and-that, you remember?”

Me: [Searching my brain for a name with no luck.] “Oh yes, hello, how are you?”

PWP: “I’m good. Just calling to say ‘Hello.’”

Me: “Okay, well hi.”[Awkward silent pause.]

PWP: “Alright, have a good night.”

Me: “You too.”

Ummmmmm…what?! Was that really worth 100CFA? It’s a sweet thought, but really, come on Togo.

The call just to say “Hey” is definitely a cultural struggle for me. Sure after 16 months I’ve learned to brush off the little things but every so often I do implement Operation Screen Togolese Calls to bring a bit of peace to my life.

No doubt this PC Togo experience halts any desire to own a pager in America. And I think I can live with that.

Until next time…J

A Surprise Weekend in Anfoin

It’s expected of any volunteer in Togo who participates in a conference (in another West African country) to present that which they learned to PC Administration, i.e. the country director and program directors.

On what did I need to present? The Food Security Summit in The Gambia.

We put it off long enough due to conflicting schedules and a summer packed with camps, rain and the training of new PCVs. But this weekend dubbed “Now or never!”

So we set a date: Friday, September 28.

I of course bought my post bus tickets ahead of time—figured if I didn’t have my iPod there was no way in Hell I’d take a bush-taxi. Moreover, my good friend Katy Todd planned to return to Togo around the same time after her vacation in America, thus I also bought her return ticket to Dapaong.

Well, life is rarely this easy and inevitably plans change. A program director—we have four in country—called me the Monday before the meeting and informed me the date and time of the meeting changed: Monday, October 1 in the afternoon.

What?!?!?! SURPRISE!

Needless to say, I was a bit crossed. Being that a volunteer’s salary is by no means substantial, I simply couldn’t afford to spend five nights in a hotel in Lomé in addition to 17,400CFA it costs to travel south to north. And to top, I already purchased Katy’s tickets and someone had to hand them to her in Lomé before the day the bus left, right?

So where did this leave me?

Luckily, my partner for this presentation lives in Maritime; and even better, he lives only an hour and a half away from the capital. So the new plan was set: I took the post bus down on Thursday as scheduled, spent the night in Lomé, took care of some business at the PC office, and made the trip to Anfoin that is located near the border of Benin.

Traveling to Anfoin wasn’t difficult at all. I grabbed a taxi to the bush-taxi station and much to my surprise I didn’t have to wait for the car to fill up. As usual, in what was a five-seated vehicle, four women including me squashed in the back seat and two others in the front passenger seat. Although a small car often means a quick departure, I find the rides to be less comfortable than riding in a larger, 15-passenger van. There’s bound to be at least one side of my butt that goes numb, or an entire leg for that matter. This trip was no exception. Once I reached Aneho, a town near Anfoin, I switched to a moto—but first had to allow the blood to return to the entire left side of my body.

I’m sure I’ve mentioned it before, but I love motos—just me, the driver, and wind in my moto helmet. J

What happened once I arrived in Anfoin?

I decompressed a bit, and then Ben and I walked through town to get to a bar near a canal. The bar built a bar deck on the canal, so we lounged on well made comfortable wooden seats and drank a couple beers. It was perfect.

A bonus to living au village is host families oftentimes feed PCVs. After the bar, Ben and I returned to his house to dine with his homologue/host dad/president of an NGO. That night we ate pâte with great sauce AND pasta with oil, tomatoes and onions AND sugared bread. It was delicious, but I wanted to hurl.

Volunteers au village generally have two rooms in their houses: One as a living room/kitchen/dinning room, and the second as a bedroom with a small litpico equal to a twin-sized bed. This meant I slept on the floor—though Ben offered his bed—and you know you’ve become accustomed to life in a third-world country when a straw mat is so comfortable you sleep like a baby.

The next morning, even after I overindulged on pasta and pâte, I was ready to eat again. Ben heated up some water, arranged the necessities like oatmeal, sugar, honey, milk powder, moringa powder and the meal was set. The thing about eating chez other volunteers au village is that if they’re those who don’t enjoy cooking, they don’t have enough utensils for guests. This of course led me to eat my oatmeal out of a large measuring cup and a plastic tablespoon. TIT (This is Togo)!

After breakfast and for most of the day, I worked on our presentation scheduled for Monday. We wrote an outline that detailed the purpose of the summit, activities and sessions, future plans, etc. We also created a country action plan to use as a guide in order to effectively improve food security in Togo.

Since Saturday was a workday, we had Sunday to party. And oh did we party! It happened to be the town’s party of the year that Sunday. They called it a “Pique-nique!”  Ben and I were invited to a couple of his good friends’ houses—and these friends are more or less forty-year-old men. Since I was a visitor from the north and tchakpa is the local drink, I simple couldn’t refuse the sodabe from the south. In an hour, I took three shots of sodabe. It was good sodabe, but I prefer tchakpa. We ate and ate and ate all morning until it was time to repos and sleep off the sodabe.

Just a shot I liked.

One of Ben's good friends gifted me more than 30 oranges.

Yep, we drank wine out of a shot glass. Tis how we roll!

Since Ben didn't eat a lot of the first course, I told his friends they had to make him eat all of his second course. No mercy. Ha, life's a bitch.

On the right, one of Ben's besties. Yeah, we tend to hang with people twice our age or more. 

Overall it was a great night, a new PCV from a nearby village biked over and we made sangria with freshly squeezed orange juice. We also ate too much banana bread that I have no intention of making it for a looooooooooong time. But it was delicious. Thanks Ben!

Although I would have preferred to spend just a couple of nights in the maritime region, it was a pleasant weekend and I experienced yet another town in Togo. And in case you were wondering…the presentation with Country Director Carolina Cardona and the program directors went very well.

Until next time… J

MANGEONS: An African Civility

In English, mangeons—pronounced mAH-zh-OH—translates to “Let’s eat!” It’s courteous, its brother is “Bon appétit!” and it’s very African. 

Truthfully, this phrase isn’t exclusive to French-speaking African countries. Lili and Jean-Claude Maupoint, my host parents in France, said it often—even though I prepared my meals, Lili always offered a taste of French cuisine. So how does one distinguish France from Togo? It’s simple. The courtesy is open to anyone and everyone.

In Togo, the phrase is said to whomever, wherever and whenever. It’s spoken without reservation, meaning if I buy fruit from a woman in the market and she happens to be eating pâte with peanut sauce and says “Mangeons!” Well, no problem if I do just that and snag a bite of her food.

Within a Togolese abode, it’s no secret that the size of a traditional family far exceeds that of most American families. It also comes as no surprise that more family members imply more mouths to feed. “What’s mine is yours,” an expression that is oftentimes taken literally. In most households, the mother prepares a sizable casserole of pâte along with one large bowl of sauce and the entire family gathers in a circle surrounding the meal and they dive right in, preferably with clean hands. No plates, no cutlery, no hesitation to share.

The purpose of this post is to acknowledge a civility I appreciate in Togo, and not to reveal a lack of propriety on the part of Americans. It’s a cultural difference. In New York subway cars, for example, never did I see someone in a car with something to eat or drink—be it a coffee, a smoothie, a hot dog, a McDonald’s cheeseburger or a banana—and offer a taste to everyone in the car. The Paris metro is just the same. Surely the majority of Americans grow up with basic manners, i.e. they learn to say please and thank you, apologize if accidently push or bump into someone, etc. Most of us know the meaning of share. Undoubtedly, for some it takes longer to master than for others or for some it means everything can be shared and taken (MOOCHERS!).

This in mind, how often do we [Americans] share with strangers? Similar to France, there in lies a cultural difference between Togo and America.

A quick story:

Yesterday I traveled from Sokodé to Dapaong. It was a long travel day, which started at 9AM and ended at 9:40PM. The ride was like every other bush-taxi ride: people packed into a vehicle like sardines in a can, people complained about the heat, women breastfed their babies (seven on this trip), men blasted artist Too Fan on their cell phones, taxi broke down for 30 minutes, etc. So what made this trip and others like it bearable? An iPod and little pleasantries like mangeons. As I waited four hours for the taxi to fill up, a man offered me a banana, another man offered tea, and a young hip woman (one I sat beside the entire trip) offered rice and beans with tomato sauce, eggs, water and a banana. I didn’t have much to offer, but since the woman was kind enough to hold onto my iPod while I slept (so it didn’t fall on the floor), I shared my headphones and we jammed to Lady Gaga and Rihanna.

Questions??

Must one accept a mangeons? Nope. It’s there for the taking. If you want to, go ahead, and if you don’t, just say “Thank you!”

Does one always have to say it? No, but it’s polite. Not all Togolese say it, but most do and they respect foreigners who do as well.

Will I bring it back stateside? Good question. Soon find out. ;)

Have I ever accepted a mangeons from a stranger? Yep, sure have!! 

Dishes I plan to bring back stateside? See photos below. 

Photo courtesy: Rebekah Chang

Kalma, ground beans with peppered salt, onion and oil.

Photo courtesy: Rebekah Chang

Rice balls with peanut sauce.

En Gambie

In my 25 years, I’ve never travelled to another country strictly for business. The week I spent in The Gambia, several locals asked me if I was interested in a safari to which I replied, “Sorry, I don’t have time. I’m here on business.” Ha! I’ve always wanted to say that and Peace Corps gave me the opportunity. Sweet.

Why did I go to The Gambia?

I, along with fellow PCV Benjamin Bogardus, was invited to attend the West African Food Security Summit. The summit was scheduled to be in Mali, but with the coup (and evacuation of Peace Corps), The Gambia was next in line.

FOOD SECURITY. It’s a buzzword PCVs know well. But what does it mean?

                  “Food security is the existence of safe, nutritious food for all people at all times and a food system (a community’s means of food production, distribution, and consumption) that protects people and promotes their culture, economy and environment.”

PC TOGO Food Security Task Force

Food is life in Togo. Of course, food is life everywhere. Everyone needs to eat. But in Togo, food IS life. Agriculture is the primary occupation of the population. Food is the topic of discussion at every tchouk, tchakpa or sodabé stand no matter if women, men or children are present. If it rains, farmers thank their Gods—not because it’s hot and they want to cool down, but because they know their produce gets the nourishment it needs.

What’s the problem in Togo? To list a few:

Unaffordable food prices: seasonal price rises, etc. Land use and farm labor arrangements; sharecropping. Unequal food distribution within a household (certain family members receive less or lower-quality food such as young girls and children). Chronic malnutrition (particularly in the north). Unaffordable protein sources (tofu, meat, eggs, etc). Food borne diseases resulting from poor sanitation during food preparation. Access to food crop preservation and storage.

How did the summit help with food security in West Africa?

The summit, itself, offered PCVs from eight West African countries (i.e. Benin, Burkina Faso, The Gambia, Ghana, Guinea, Mali, Senegal and Togo) a chance to exchange information on food security and network. Every country had something to offer at the summit; be it creative food transformations (Moringa juice, soy bread, etc), camp ideas for kids (Eco-Action) or in-depth trainings.

It wasn’t all work.

The summit also gave us the chance to experience The Gambia. Along with our tour guides (Gambian PCVs), we explored the markets of Banjul. We tasted exotic fruits like jackfruit. We walked along the beautiful SeneGambia beach and took a field trip to the Kumu Kunda Bee-Keeping Initiative.

Eating a jackfruit. It was delicious!

It was a phenomenal trip. I bonded with PCVs from seven other West African countries. We laughed. We celebrated American Independence together. We ate well. We drank Julbrew…the ONLY beer in The Gambia. Above all, we became cognizant of the magnitude of food insecurities in West Africa and the importance of regional collaboration. 

More Than Just A Cultural Exchange

My grandmother, Celeste Strong, recently sent me a letter to which she posed several questions pertaining to PCV work—and one question took precedence over all.

                       

                        “Do you have to be on call at certain times or are you on duty 24 hours a day?”

The former US Ambassador to Togo gave the answer to this question my first week in country: We are technically on duty 24/7. We are essentially US representatives, US (petits) ambassadors.

We may not be educating our communities 24/7—we need sleep like everyone else—but we make un grand effort to shine a positive light on America and it’s often hard work. But what do we do really? Or more importantly what do I do, right?!

I’m quite certain there are some curious cats that would like to know about my work activities in country (and outside). Am I wrong? I sure hope not!

So here’s what I’ve been doing:

WORLD MAP PROJECT

With my site mate Katy Todd, I worked with a small group of elementary students at EPP Worgou in Dapaong and painted a large world map on an outside wall of the school.

WELL-BEING CONFERENCE IN SAGBIEBOU

Originally organized by a CHAP PCV in 2011, the village decided to make this conference annual (SUSTAINABILITY!) and requested PCVs and HCNs to present a topic of their choice. Since my Togolese counterpart presented on family planning methods and CHAP PCV Maggie McRae did condom demonstrations, I focused on the benefits of family planning. More specifically, I explained the ways in which a smaller family size benefits everyone, more resources for each member of the family—food, money, clothes, housing, water, etc.

WOMEN’S GROUP IN DAPAONG

Nutrition. I love it; I teach it; and I live it. In June and July, I led a nutrition talk with a women’s group in Nassablé, Dapaong. Most of the women are in their 50s or late 60s, thus I discussed the importance of calcium, low-sodium intake, hydration (especially during hot season), etc. They also requested a talk on what qualifies as a balanced diet.

CHAP TOOLKIT REVISION 2012

Each program sector has a book complete with a plethora of resources for PCVs to use (if they so desire) at post. An editorial team of six PCVs (including one PCVL) revised the toolkit for the new CHAP trainees who arrived this month.

FOOD SECURITY TASK FORCE (FSTF)

An increasing population, environmental degradation, and gender disparities have led to the current food security crisis in Togo. There are seven members of FSTF, which include PCVs from all four sectors. Each member has his own role, and I work on public relations and communication.

FOOD SECURITY SUMMIT 2012 (THE GAMBIA)

EAFS PCV Benjamin Bogardus and I recently had the opportunity to network and exchange information at the Food Security Summit in Banjul, The Gambia with PCVs and staff from eight other West Africa Food Security Partnership (WAFSP) countries: Ghana, Benin, Burkina Faso, The Gambia, Senegal, Guinea, and Mali. Through sessions and informal exchanges, we learned about the food security activities happening in other countries and formed some recommendations for moving forward in Togo.

MID-SERVICE CONFERENCE

That’s right. Halfway there! This conference was an excellent opportunity for PCVs from each sector, i.e. EAFS, CHAP, GEE and SED, to showcase their activities in a three-day work fair. It also gave PCVs a chance to refine their skills.

SITE DEVELOPMENT IN PANA (SAVANNAH)

Proper site development is crucial before the arrival of a PCV. If a community is seriously committed to receive a PCV—which entails a community-donated house for the PCV that also meets PC requirements—then the site is accepted. PCVs often help APCDs with site development and I helped with the site development of a village near Dapaong.

CAMP ECO-ACTION

Togo has many camps, however, this environmental camp had its début this July. I was a counselor for girls’ week. I led informative lectures/trainings on nutrition, composting, improved cook stoves, and soy bread.  

HOUSE MANAGER OF A WORKSTATION

There are two workstations in Togo: one in Atakpamé (Plateau) and the other in Dapaong (Savannah). I am the new house manager for the Dapaong workstation. Yay!

AGRICULTURAL TRADE FAIR 2012

Economic development in Togo largely depends on improving sustenance farming and agricultural information exchange. This fair gives individual farmers and agricultural producers a venue to showcase locally produced products and open new marketing and networking opportunities. I am a scout for the fair.

Well, that's what been happening chez moi. Next blog will include more information on the Food Security Summit. 

Until next time...  

Food Security Summit 2012

As you might have read on Facebook approximately one month ago, I am invited to attend the West African Food Security Summit in The Gambia. 

The invitation was surreal to say the least, but now that the date is quickly approaching I thought you'd like to know a few specifics. Yes?

When:

July 2 - 6.

Summit Goal:

Assemble PCVs and Food Security Points of Contact to West Africa Food Security Summit in order to encourage, train and equip them to effectively improve regional food security and successfully engage in the West African Food Security Partnership.

Objectives:

1. Inform PCVs on the context, function and components of the West Africa Food Security Partnership.
2. Train PCVs on Monitoring & Evaluation, Communication, Branding & Marketing, and Environmental Impact Analysis.
3. Disfunction, creation, roles and management of PCV Food Security Task Force.
4. Train and equip PCVs to create or further strengthen a national PCV Food Security Task Force in their respective countries.
5. Brainstorm and facilitate linkages between countries in order to benefit from the region approach's synergies and complementarities. Discuss communication needs and develop conceptual solutions.

What will I do?

With my colleague, Benjamin Bogardus, I will do a 15-minute presentation on Togo (e.g. geography, demographics, key challenges); on Togo's food security program/activities and achievements; and on food security-related technologies or techniques used in your country by PCVs. 

Where?

For the safety of myself and others, I will not disclose the location of the summit. For friends and family members, please send a request for further information. 

I will, however, inform you that I'll leave Lome on Friday, June 29 to Cotonou, Benin. 

Looking forward to uploading pictures and sharing stories!

Wish me luck.