Sorry & Thank you.
Friends and family,
It has been too long since I last wrote, and for this I apologize. The internet access in Tsevie (the town we have been in for the past 2 months for training- about 1 hour north of Lome) is less than average as the one internet café is more of a headache than helpful. Anyway, I’ve spent the past few days preparing a few updates to re-cap the past two months, and now that we have finished training (yes, can you believe it?!) we are back in Lome for Swear-In and shopping before we depart for our posts on Friday (8/5).
Before I begin, I need to thank some very special people. My mom, Grandma Pat, and Aunt Tracy have made it their personal missions to assure that I have an adequate supply of protein in my diet. While there is some meat (mostly beef and chicken) small quantities are expensive and doesn’t keep (lack of refrigeration) so therefore it’s more work for our host families to prepare. We also have tofu, beans, and eggs that I eat on a regular basis, but the amount of protein is still a small fraction to the overwhelming amount of carbs (spaghetti, rice, bread) that are the main staple here. Anyway, these amazing women have sent many packages of tuna, chicken, and protein powder and it has really helped to fill in the gaps. THANK YOU, I am so grateful to have your incredible support. Also, thank you mama for relaying my news to Togo to the rest of the world in my ‘absence.’ My sister, who I miss dearly, has also been great in keeping me updated with the latest news in people and events. My sweet boyfriend, Michael has played a big role in keeping me going through these past two challenging months. Thank you for the phone calls, letters, and love. I am so thankful for your continued effort to go out of your way to be with me on this journey. Last but surely not least, my wonderful friends who have sent cards of encouragement and support. Thursday has been mail day for us while in training, and each week it was like a mini-Christmas as we were like kids in a candy store with the small but precious pieces of home. A sincere thank you to those of you who took the time to go to the post office and figure out how much a stamp to Togo costs—truly invaluable to me!
For those of you who have dropped a note on Facebook or checked my blog (only to be disappointed-sorry again), thank you for thinking of me, it means so much. I’m looking forward to remaining ‘connected’ –Togo style- from here on out, as I will be purchasing a wireless card to take to post.
First two weeks
The first two weeks of training were pretty rough. Current PCV”s said they would be- and they weren’t kidding. While it’s difficult to prepare for such a great unknown, it’s also very difficult to describe as you’re feeling and experiencing so much at once. Finally, it all came to a head and I just let it out. I’ll never forget that phone call to my mom, sobbing and asking her what the heck I was doing here. I dreaded making this call as I didn’t want to worry her and I didn’t want to admit I was struggling and full of fear and doubt. Thankfully, mom was strong and unwavering in her belief in me and my ability to get through it. When I finally could put the struggle into words it went something like this: Training pushes the extremes on every level a human can feel and experience: physically, you have got to adapt to a new climate and since it was the tail end of hot season when we arrived in June, we were sweating non-stop and the heat and humidity was inescapable and therefore very draining. Additionally, the change in diet (frequency, size, and consistency of meals) and relying on others to feed us was also playing with our energy level. Intellectually, we were being thrown into learning a brand new language with French classes each day and then attending sessions almost just as frequently with information on the business environment/economy of Togo and the work we would be doing as Small Enterprise Development (SED) volunteers. It was mentally exhausting trying to take in a foreign language while learning about the poverty and sometimes dire circumstances (you were living and walking around in) you were here to improve. Psychologically, while the rest of you is sweating, craving a pizza, struggling to comprehend, and overwhelmed with the living conditions, your brain begins to tell you to get the heck out of dodge. And finally, emotionally your separated from the very people who would be the ones to tell you to keep going, keep pushing through. It was really difficult to go home each night after a day of work and only have to work some more to communicate with your host family. I would tell my good friend here, Vanessa, “if only some of family/friends were here with us, then we could do this.” It truly looked bleak and impossible for a while. When I finished explaining to mom all of these maxed out ‘ally’s’, she just paused and said, “Well yeah Taylor, it’s the Peace Corps.” Right, how could I forget? While my host mom didn’t understand why I was crying all the time, I found comfort in Vanessa’s host mom who held me and let me cry as her children stared wide eyed in wonder at the strange white girl making a blubbery mess of herself.
I believe in letting yourself feel things, that the only way to get through them is to be honest with yourself and so I spent two nights that week just sobbing in my room, torturing myself looking through pictures of home. But, eventually I stopped. I thought of the advice from one of my best friend’s Amy, “if you really hate it and it’s bad for like a month, you can come home.” While I never really considered coming home, I did start keeping track of the days by denoting each with a happy or sad face on the calendar in my room. I told myself if the sad days out numbered the happy ones by the end of June then I would reassess the situation. Thankfully, the days not only improved and my body, mind, and attitude adjusted and adapted to the conditions, but I also forgot all about keeping track on the calendar.
On a different note, I was and continued to be very impressed with the Peace Corps training and trainers who are local Togolese. Those first two weeks were filled with French classes with one or two other trainees and a Togolese instructor. Specially trained in teaching language and working with American’s, they were incredibly patient and helpful. Technical training sessions on small businesses and nonprofits in Togo were led by technical trainers who had studied and worked in Togolese businesses their whole lives. There were sessions on health led by the PC medical office’s two nurses (who are wonderful), bike sessions as we had to learn how to repair various parts of the mountain bikes we were given, and safety and security sessions so that we would be aware of the situation in Togo, studying issues and situations that past volunteers had encountered during their service. Not only were the trainers patient and kind but they truly cared about us and wanted us to succeed in training and be as prepared as possible for our posts. I will miss these kind people who I now call my friends.
Turning 24
After a month of training my 24th birthday arrived and our group welcomed an excuse to let loose and have something celebrate. Rather than going out to eat (limited options) we decided to go to the market and prepare dinner at our school which has a kitchen with a gas stove. Having ridden an elephant for my 23rd birthday in Thailand last year, I decided this year I would kill a chicken for our dinner. This sounded like a great idea and after I declared I would do it, the boys in our group excitedly found a chicken and a sharp knife; they were ready to see this. Let’s just say it took me a while and a little forcing and hand holding as I couldn’t get myself to grab its neck and get it over with. In the end I’m glad I did it, but man, did that process it given me a whole new perspective on preparing and eating chicken. Chickens here don’t eat too well so after plucking the feathers, gutting, and cutting apart the bird, we discovered how puny the meat was; I was quite disappointed. It’s safe to say American and Togo chicken are very different things. However, we ate well that night with rice and lots of vegetables.
We tried our best to have an American Fourth of July later in the week. Everyone pitched in and bought some fruit, bread, homemade tortilla chips, bean dip, and a pig which the boys roasted the night before. It was good to have a day to just hang and be with the large group.
Around that same time, we met with our SED boss, Alex to discuss potential post assignments and what we would like in our future villages and homes for the next two years. I had my requests ready J I told Alex I only wanted three things: a good counterpart (the person who you will work most closely with in village), the opportunity to do NGO (non-governmental organizations) work as I speak NGO- not business like most other SED projects, and a smaller village not too far from Lome/up country. I didn’t want to be in the sticks (Savanna region) which is a long 12 hour bus ride from Lome.
A week later, Alex answered my requests by assigning me to Lama-Tessi. A village of about 10,000, LT is about a 5 hour ride from the capital and located right on the national (and best/only paved road in country) road so it’s very accessible (no 2 hour ride from the road on a motorcycle to get to village like some volunteers endure). What’s more, my counterpart would be Aposto, a Togolese artisan famous throughout Peace Corps Togo for his batiking business and work with a current PCV, Lorena. Lastly, Aposto helped to form and manages a faction of a national NGO working on health issues. YES, YES, YES!
A week in Lama-Tessi
The second week in July we headed off to spend a week in our new villages. Our counterparts had come down the day before to have an orientation with PC staff and then we all traveled together bright and early the next day. There were only five of us and our counterparts for a total of ten in the van and we knew this would probably be the first and last ride to our posts with that few of passengers, so we enjoyed every minute.
We arrived in LT in the early afternoon and I got settled in my new home. Yes, it’s so new that it wasn’t even finished yet. The cement had dried but they were still working on the drop ceiling, steps for the porch, and finishing my latrine and shower. I live in a compound with one other family who is building these apartment-like homes. So far I am the only one to occupy the new building while they store their grain in the other. My host mom is great, and crazy buff. I had to tell myself to quit staring at her massively defined arms! My host father is a teacher and so thankfully they both speak French in addition to the local language. They have electricity and the plan is for it to also be installed in my house soon. My house is two cement rooms with a spacious porch which I am very excited for. I will have one room for my kitchen/living room and one for my bedroom. While I was there that week, the family let me use their facilities (i.e. literally a hole in the ground as the latrine and an outdoor half-hut for a shower. It was quite the experience J It was cooler in LT as it rained almost every day which brought cooler mornings and evening s when I wore long-sleeves and pants– I even saw my breath one morning!
The week was filled with lots of short meetings to meet the VIP’s of LT and down time. I read two books that week. While I struggled with this (5 open hours in the middle of the day for example) the first couple of days, I started to get the hang of it by the end of the week. I enjoyed sleeping in (as much as possible as the call to prayer-LT is very Muslim- goes off around 4:30 am and the chickens/guinea fowl/roosters are calling by 5 am), slow mornings of coffee and reading on my porch, a walk to the other side of town to meet with someone, lunch and more reading at my house, a run around the village and on the road before dinner, dinner in the daylight (challenging as its dark by 6:30) and in bed by 8 or 9.
While Aposto was away on business for the first part of my week, his colleague, Alex, took me around to meet the local chiefs on Sunday. Even though LT is small, we literally walked a total of 5 hours that day, making multiple trips back and forth if the chef wasn’t home the first time we tried. Alex took great care of me, stopping on the way to introduce me to people and explain the PC in local language. Additionally, as the kids called out to me ‘white person’ in local language, Alex would stop each individual child to tell them my name and that is what they are to call me. We stopped at a large gathering of women where I introduced myself and they promptly gave me a new name in local language: Aisha. Between the children and the women, most of the town knew and called after me by my new name by the time Friday came around. I was beginning to feel welcomed and comfortable.
Wednesday, I met Aposto and even got to batik with him a bit. Thursday he introduced me to CRUSET Togo, the NGO I’ll hopefully get to work with. While my French is still coming along, I listened carefully (exhausting!) and tried to pick up as much as I could. I had visitors from three PCV’s throughout the week who were passing through LT. It was so nice to have someone else to talk to –especially in English. Friday afternoon the other volunteers in my region traveled about two hours to celebrate the week.
Laundry
Laundry in Togo earns its own post. I hereby swear to never complain about doing laundry in the States ever again. During my first encounter with the Togolese style of hand-washing, I looked at my host mom and said, “in the States we have machines for this.” She looked at me, raised her hands and said, “machine one, machine two.” Right. Wow laundry is a workout and feat all of its own. Initially my host brother and the house boy helped me but after I understood that they scrub each item not once or twice, but three times, I quickly decided that if I wanted to have any clothes left in six months I better just do it myself. Plus, it’s an upper body workout , right? Yikes. All of us dread and complain about laundry day—we wait for the last possible day when we have no other items that don’t wreak of sweat and soiled in dirt, and then we spend 2 hours vigorously scrubbing our knuckles raw attempting to ‘clean’ our clothes. And then we pray that the wind will blow and the sun will come out and it won’t rain so that our work won’t be in vain. In rainy season (now) you begin to believe that washing at all is pointless. All of thi s has led me to a new comfort level of wearing dirty/smelly clothes, especially workout clothes. Additionally, we’ve developed new levels of ‘dirty’ of each item, based on its strength of stench and thus its urgency to be washed. Today, I do my laundry by myself, while my family watches and shakes their head at my one scrub method. They may not be as clean but they will not be threadbare in a year either…hopefully.
Last two weeks & the future
Today (8/2) I packed my things again – my life into two bags. It feels good. Good to finish training. Good to move onto a new place; a fresh start. I honestly never thought I’d survive nine weeks, but as we say a lot here, time will pass. I’m spending my last 300 Francs (about 75 cents) on fried delicious treats I’ve been avoiding in an effort to get through these past two weeks on limited budget. This amount will get me ten banana fritters and eight beignets. Yes, this is a lot fried food, don’t worry I won’t eat it all at once - but it also eliminates my need for chapstick and helps to keep all of my innards running smoothly. I never thought I’d love fried food so much – but when it’s close to your only choice, and it’s sweet – you can’t go wrong.
These past two weeks have been interesting. When we returned from post we were excited to be back together and be in a familiar place again. I also was more motivated to improve my French; if only it would just come overnight! The time was stressful due to the intensity of language classes two weeks ago and then last week was filled with presentations (all in French) and exams (culture, technical, French). In addition, with a small taste of freedom at post, it was difficult to come back to the rigidity and structure of training. While post visit was both exciting – a taste of freedom – it was tough to come back to the structure of training and yet made us anxious to be on our own… for good. The good news: I survived, and I will become an official volunteer of Peace Corps Togo.
One reward for getting to this point will be receiving our ‘settling-in’ allowance. This will be about twice the amount of money we will make on a monthly basis as volunteers. I’m fortunate enough to be in a replacement post, and will be inheriting Lorena’s things and therefore will be able to go crazy at the supermarket in Lome. I also plan to purchase an internet access key, a lounge chair/cot for my porch, paint for my fresh, new cement walls, and I will have a couch made once I get back to Lama Tessi. Oh, and electricity, which should only cost me about $6-$8 a month once I get it installed.
Light-bulb moments:
While each day (and throughout the day for that matter) brings different feelings/emotions/attitudes towards this adventure, I’ve enjoyed the moments where I get excited and feel like I’m in the right place.
For example, the other day we had a session on Village Savings & Loans (VSL’s) which volunteers in our sector (SED) work to establish. VSL’s give women (usually who sell things in the market) the chance and organization to save a little bit of money each week and then take out loans with what they and others have saved, repaying with interest. As the volunteer put it, working with the poorest of the poor. Light bulbs: Oh yeah, I smiled to myself, that’s why I came here, that’s what I’ve dreamed of doing.
Another day I had a ‘light bulb’ moment was when we visited a pre-school (very rare) and apprentice program right here in Tsevie. The center was run by an NGO and after we toured the facility (special songs by adorable little 3 and 4 year-olds, apprentice classroom for female tailors who have dropped out of school) we met with their directors who explained the workings of the organization. I turned to Vanessa and said, this, this is the work I’ve been craving to be a part of.
I-can-do-this moments:
Other really great experiences – techniques being put into practice – have happened throughout training too.
Such things as one of the volunteer’s counterpart coming to speak to us about his fertilizer/pesticide business that he created in his small village and is now distributing to surrounding countries. Or a woman who works with another SED volunteer who makes hand-made batik clothing and items and is now working with a few large retailers in the States. We also watched a group of volunteers lead a group of about 5 young girls in an Income Generating Activity (IGR). The PCV’s taught the girls how to make Neem lotion, liquid soap, and popcorn. This gave the volunteers the opportunity to teach the importance of creating and following a budget for a project, calculating your costs to ensure you make a profit off the items you sell, while also empowering girls to make money for themselves (often to pay for school fee’s) and sharing simple – yet important health information.
Another such moment came last week when we lead a community engagement activity with some of our host families. It was our first time on our own, leading an activity with locals in French. Eek. We chose the yearly calendar activity. The point of the calendar is for the participants to be able to see where they spend their resources throughout the year, so they can better prepare for the future (i.e., knowing school fees will be due in September, so when you have more money from harvest in July, save some of it). It was a very interesting experience as we separated the men and the women (each has very different activities) so as to get an accurate picture (often only men will talk in meetings) . I got a first-hand look at how even more crucial preparation is when you’re speaking (and writing) in another language. Wow. There is however the flexible element that you must have, but you really can’t (or at least I can’t yet) ‘wing-it’ when you have a limited vocabulary!
Random (interesting) thoughts:
Local Language is really something here. Togo has 40 some local languages, while the primary language-what kids learn in school, is French. My local language will be Coti-Coli which is what the Muslims of LT speak, while non-Muslims (the minority in LT) speak Cabiea. Learning a local language, with its different alphabet and sounds is interesting to say the least. We only learned the main greetings as that is what is most important for integration. Basically, if you can say hello and how are you as you pass by someone (each person) in local language, not only will they be really excited and think you are fluent in but they will most likely be very nice and welcoming. It’s all about making the effort. Having said that, Coti-Coli traditions for greeting one another is extensive and exhausting. You say good morning and then proceed to ask: how is the work, how is your family, how is your health, your house? To which they mumble in response, good, good good as they walk past you. Very interesting and take some getting used to!
Togo has taught me (already) how quickly one must adapt to things not working out (in order to not go crazy). A part of me really believes you have to expect the worse from each situation but hope and prepare for the best. This may sound pessimistic, but it’s the reality of the fact with the pace of life here and the organization and logic(or lack-there-of). Kind of like you must be ready for anything –with back-up plans for back-up plans. More to come on this thought I’m sure …
Running has kept me sane during training. There are four of us who would run on a gravel road out of town four times a week. We ran at dawn (the day starts very early here- much to my liking) as it’s the coolest part of the day and we had to be to class by 7:30 each morning. It took my lungs a few times to adjust to the humidity as I struggled to get through 30 minutes – quite humbling. Our bodies have an amazing ability to adapt (as I continue to see and feel on a continuous basis) though and now I can comfortably run for an hour.
It’s work to live here. Each morning after my run, I drew water from the well and filled my gallon bucket to take a bucket shower in a cement room. Showering. I’ve never loved it so much –however you’re never really clean as you tiptoe back to your room trying so hard not to get your feet dirty. Because you would get so sweaty and dirty from walking in dirt and sand all day, I looked forwarded the bucket shower and ice cold water to cool down before I crawled under my mosquito net and onto my bed. Everything takes longer here as one can imagine. I learned this first hand one day as I really wanted a cup of coffee after lunch but felt bad asking my families houseboy to boil water after he just made my lunch. So, I volunteered to light the charcoal stove myself and quickly learned to appreciate modern conveniences and that ‘simple’ cup of instant coffee as the entire process took nearly 30 minutes.
There is very little childhood here as kids start working around the house by the age of 8 or 9. Yet they are happy – so very happy, singing while they work and always smiling. Greetings are very important in Togolese culture and the kids are especially excited to greet us (albeit in local language ‘yovo’ –white person) each time we pass by. Ask them how they are and they will always respond with very well. Fascinating as they are half-clothed, covered in dirt, and playing in the street in front of the shack they call home.
I was repeatedly impressed with the Togolese Peace Corps trainers and administration staff. Not only were they exceptionally patient with our French skills and helping us adapt, but they helped line up various things that would be difficult to figure out on one’s own. To name a few:
· helped us prepare for post visit by helping to list out all of the things we would need (not like staying a hotel with restaurants for a week)
· set up bank accounts so that our living allowances could be deposited each month,
· spending an afternoon teaching us to prepare some of the local dishes (various sauces and fried things)
· asking for our feedback on the training, including technical and French class
· spending ample time with our counterparts to prepare them about what to expect from us, how to treat us (well), etc.
· providing detailed and thorough health and safety and security sessions conducted by PC Togo’s two medical officers and safety and security officers.
These people are looking out for us; you can tell they truly care and I am so thankful.
