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