Hard to believe I've been here over two months! A lot has happened since I last posted but I'll do my best to catch you up. The first few weeks here were a bit of a rollercoaster. A lot of things that I thought would be difficult (such as getting really sick) turned out not to be so hard and things that I didn't think would bother me (like people staring or yelling at me) can upset me enough to make me cry. By now I've found ways to cope with the things I found hard and am settling well into life here.
I’m in Lome (the capital of Togo) right now being “sworn in” as a new volunteer with the rest of my stage (all the American trainees I came here with). We’ve been having a lot of fun enjoying the showers (albeit it cold ones), electricity and ice cream! On Monday we will all depart for our respective posts throughout Togo. (Below is a picture of my friend Kristina and me at our swearing-in ceremony.)
My post is in a village named Pagala in the center of the country not too far from the Ghanian border. My house is really great! I have three big rooms and the previous volunteer made the place very homey. There’s no electricity or running water, however, I found during my post visit that dining by candlelight (even by yourself) adds a certain je ne sais quoi. I don’t have any specific jobs that I will be taking over; however, I have some ideas for projects based on my post visit and discussions with the previous volunteer. I’ll keep you posted on my work as it progresses.
As I mentioned in my last post, I had been living with a host family in a village in the town of Agou. Agou is about an hour northwest of Lome and close to the highest point in the country. There are beautiful views of Mount Agou and the weather is (thankfully) sometimes cooler due to the higher altitude (and the fact that it's rainy season). The roads are beautiful red clay and the scenery is really green and overgrown.
My host family in Agou was terrific! I am going to miss them a lot. We had a lot of fun together and laughed...A LOT. Mostly we laughed at my incompetence with using latrines, washing clothes by hand, pounding fufu, etc. Of course, as you would suspect, I have some funny stories to share about my family…
The first story I want to share will be most amusing to my friends at Seyfarth (who thought it was funny that I had never had a hot dog my whole life) and my family in Arizona (who I was with when I ate my first hot dog--one month before leaving for Togo). One night I came home from class and my host mom called me over with a mischievous look in her eye. She told me that my brother brought me a special present from Lome. I could tell she was really excited to show me what it was. She opened it up a black sachet, and, sure enough, it was hot dogs. I laughed so hard I think she thought that hot dogs were my favorite food. Since that day I received hot dogs at least once a day (sometimes twice). She cut them up in small pieces and fried them, put them in sauces, omlettes...you name it. Never did I imagine that I would go my whole life without eating hot dogs and then have all I could eat in Togo.
I have noticed here that Togolese who know one “yovo” (as we are called) think they know them all. Apparently one of the other yovos my family came in contact with somehow expressed their love for ketchup (which is not readily available in Togo). Somehow, my host mother got a hold of a bottle for me and presented it to me in the same fashion as the hot dogs. I expressed some enthusiasm although I wasn’t quite sure how I was supposed to eat it (as the hot dogs were usually in a sauce of some kind already). The bottle of ketchup showed up for every single meal (breakfast, lunch and dinner). When my host mother realized I wasn’t eating it, she asked me what I wanted to eat it with. I explained I would eat it with French fries or plantain chips. From that day forward I received French fries and/or plantain chips with lunch and dinner. As my post visit was approaching and the bottle of ketchup was dwindling, my host mother insisted I take the bottle with me to for my week long post visit. “I know you can’t live without it…” she said. I tried explaining that I was taking all of my luggage and traveling in a bush taxi and was worried about the bottle breaking, but to no avail. And hence, I schlepped the bottle of ketchup halfway up the country (and back) and didn’t open it once. (Below is a picture of me and my friend Kristina--a fellow Bostonian--on our way up to our posts for post visit. Note the ketchup bottle.)
The first day I got to Agou my host mom took me by the hand through our village and walked me to a boutique so I could show her some of the food I liked. I felt like she was parading me through our village and I could almost imagine her saying “look at our yovo! Isn’t she tall and…WHITE? She’s not quite as fat as we were hoping but we’ll get her nice and plump before she leaves here.” That same day we had a fete with our host families and broke bread (ou bien fufu) for the first time . I went up to the buffet to get some food with my family. My mom stood behind me and, after pinching my sides, declared, “Il faut manger! Il faut prendre encore!” (This translates, literally, to mean, “It’s necessary to eat! It’s necessary to take more!” Little did I know that these phrases would be repeated at every meal I sat down for with for the duration of my stay with my host family. Needless to say, I left Agou a little bigger than when I got there. My host mom was quite pleased with her good work. When I said goodbye to my host family, my host mother’s parting words were “Don’t forget to eat! You have to eat a lot, ok? Don’t forget!” I won’t forget to eat while I am here but I certainly won’t be eating any more hot dogs.
Another amusing story is related to being sick. (It's helpful if I can laugh about being sick here). Almost every time I went to the latrine (which is on the opposite end of the compound as my room), when I'd walk back through the courtyard my mom would yell “Emily, tu fais le caca?”. Which, can literally be translated as “did you make the poop?”. Keep in mind there are always assured to be many people around (and within hearing range) that all look at me in anticipation of my answer. Before I answered I always tried to give her my best “mom, you're EMBARASSING me” look but it didn’t stop her from asking.
I have to tell you, however, my host mom was really concerned about my comfort, health and happiness. In the room where I took my bucket baths, there were GIANT cockroaches. I didn't say anything about it for the first few weeks I was there (although I admit I showered with one eye open for a while). When I finally asked her about the cockroaches, she said “oh, no problem. If they're in there, you just tell your mom and I will come take care of it.” So, sure enough, one night when I went to go bucket bathe, there were two cockroaches. “Mom?” I said, “There are two cockroaches in here”. No problem, she said. She grabs a little broom, smacked them off the wall and crushed them with her bare feet. Let me tell you, friends, you have not lived until you have seen your African momma kill cockroaches the size of your first with her bare feet. “There you go” she said, “You don't have to be scared anymore”.
My host mom thought I was scared of a lot of things here (and, in reality, it has taken a little bit of time to adjust to some of the spiders, bugs and rodents). In Agou, I had a mouse that lived in my ceiling that made A LOT of noise at night. I slept with earplugs in anyway (the goats and roosters always woke me up otherwise) but the mouse was so loud that it woke me up regardless. At first, I kept a battery of shoes next to my bed and would just chuck them at the ceiling when he would make noise. I told my mom about the problem and she just kind of laughed and asked me if I was scared. “Don't worry,” she said, “they're not in YOUR room, they're in the room next to yours.” Oh, ok then. At any rate, it continued to be a problem for me (despite getting better with the aim of my shoes). One night my mom came to my room and said she had a present for me. She had solved my mouse problem (since our cats had yet to catch my mouse). She hands me a big stick and says “this will work better than your shoes, I think”. Good call, mom.
Also, I should mention that the odds of my mouse being caught would have been better if my family hadn’t eaten some of our cats while I was there. When I arrived, we had five “pet” cats. By pets I mean that we let them poop in our courtyard and eat our mice (except for the one in my ceiling, apparently). I noticed after a month or so that there were only two cats around. “What happened to the other cats?” I asked my mom. “Oh, we ate them…” I didn’t have the nerve to ask if I had eaten one but chances are, if I did, I probably mistook it for a hot dog. Apparently I wasn’t very good at disguising my look of horror because my mom asked if we ate cats in America. “No” I meekly replied. “Well, it’s an animal, isn’t it?” She has a point, I guess.
Hope you have enjoyed these stories. There are so many wonderful and humorous things I would like to share but I’ll have to save them for a future blog post! Closest internet from my post is a 3 hour bush taxi ride so I can’t promise very regular blog updates. I will keep in touch as best I can! My address is noted on my first blog post should you want to write me a letter (I will get mail more frequently than I can check email). I also have a cell phone which seems to work fairly well. My Togo cell # is 938.52.29. To call (or text me) just dial 011228 and then the phone number. I don't have voicemail but if you would like to set up a time to talk feel free to text me!
I'll keep you posted! Miss you guys! Eat some pizza and think of me!!!!
I have also posted a picture below of my host mom helping me get dressed in a traditional togolese complet (my sister is in the background).
Emily
