I was planning to never have to write month-long recaps again after I finally got my Internet key, but then Togo taught me (another) lesson. Four days after my key came in, I rode my bike with my computer and bag strapped to the back and the roads of a developing country are not meant for electronics, ugh. Thankfully, my sweet friend Rebekah is letting me borrow her computer for now.
Where to begin? August was our first official month as PCV’s and at post. Overall (hindsight is always 20/20) it was a good month, definitely filled with some tough days (kept track on the calendar again) but, I survived and that’s saying a lot at this point! My goal for August was to observer, observe, observer; taking in as many details and aspects of the day-to-day activities in LT. I spent a lot of time at Aposto’s gallery, helping with batiking but also sitting under the paillote (Togo version of a gazebo) reading various PC training manuals and the NGO’s information. On Saturdays, LT swells to three times its size as people from the surrounding villages convene to sell the products from their fields and gardens and other miscellaneous things. The overflowing market area with lots of new faces and cars, the rows and rows of shacks filled with ‘marche mamas’ in their nicest pagna (local, crazy fabric) outfits and carefully placed piles of produce, me being the only white person these people have seen in a while (maybe ever) is all quite entertaining and interesting to take in. My host mom sells various cosmetics at one stand and she loves to parade me around when I come to say hello. Of course, this is also the hot spot for Tchouk drinking on Saturdays as the back of the market is lined with straw shacks and benches.
Halfway through the month people celebrate the beginning of the yam harvest (this is yam country) and Aposto and some other members of the NGO and I headed south about 20 minutes to Adjengre where we partook in a local ‘yam fete.’ This was basically a day for drinking Tchouk, eating lots of fried bean cakes, and then pounding the boiled yams and gorging ourselves on fufu. I really love fufu. Really though, it depends on which sauce you eat it with as boiled yams have little flavor themselves. (I prefer peanut or pumpkin sauce). Similar in consistency to thick mashed potatoes, its served cold and you eat with your fingers. Messy goodness!
Ryan, a PCV in Sokode and I also ventured to Sotobough for a few days to observe “Take Our Daughters To Work” camp being put on by local PCV’s. The point of the week is for girls from smaller villages to spend a week learning about other careers and job possibilities that they may not otherwise see in their respective villages. They went on field trips to visit successful business women and had sessions on self-esteem, sexual and reproductive health (most likely the first time they had been exposed to such information), and income generating activities all led by PCV’s. It was really inspiring to watch the PCV’s in action and knowing there were two girls from LT in the crowd.
My world was rocked when I returned from that trip to compound filled with Muslim women all very quiet (a rare thing for Togolese people). After asking what was going on my host mother came over and very solemnly told me that little Adenan, her only child had died that morning. She had tears in her eyes but was quiet. I looked around in shock, disbelief and confusion and just lost it. Luckily Michael happened to call who quickly alerted my mom who was on the phone with me soon after. Adenan, this sweet 3-year-old (or around there) and I had forged quite the bond in those first few weeks. We played each time I left and returned to my house, he was just beginning to say my name, we shared food with each other. I had taught him to blow bubbles only a few nights before in his ‘medicine’ bath. I had started to consider him mine. He brought me so much joy and now he was gone. I sobbed on my porch for two hours, surrounded by wide-eyed staring women while my host mother sat with me and wiped my tears trying to soothe me. It was terrible. They had said he was sick, but he seemed to be getting better as we had been playing a lot lately. Frustration built as I seemed to be the only one upset over this loss. There are such cultural differences with grieving, knowing how and why someone dies, and the attitude towards death in general here. Here I was sobbing at the loss of this little boy – who brought me so much joy and laughter – while the people around me were silent, sad yes, but silent. Death is common here, especially for children. The tipping point was when I learned there would be no service, no funeral, nothing to recognize Adenan’s life and I had to get out of there. After a two hour bike ride back to LT I got back on my bike and went to Sokode to collapse and cry and vent at Rebekah’s. It was a very challenging and exhausting weekend and needless to say I think about and miss Adenan every day.
August was also the month of Ramadan for the predominantly Muslim community in this area, LT included. After fasting for a month, my host family was ready to celebrate and I was lucky enough to be included in the party where we ate Thanksgiving-style for two days. Several servings of fufu and rice and I was carbed-out! Was fun to just ‘hang’ with my family for those couple of days when all we did was eat and prepare to eat again!
Lorena was the PCV before me in LT and I was lucky enough to have her with me for two weeks in August. During that time I tried to pick her brain as much as possible about who she has worked with, projects she has done, people/places to avoid, just trying to soak up everything she had to offer. Lorena is who I have to thank for my new house and amazing host family as she went out of her way to arrange that for me. We also sat down with Aposto one day, transferring knowledge between the three of us on what they had done together with his business and the NGO and what the future looks like. Thankful to have Lorena translate as my French is still quite shaky and catch roughly 50% of conversations. At the end of the two hour conversation on the work to be done, Aposto said to me, “I hope you’re ready to dance with us!” Lorena and Aposto built an incredible relationship and friendship and I am so thankful to be able to pick up where she left off. On her last night in LT we celebrated over some chicken stew with NGO staff and Aposto and Lorena ‘passed the torch’ (lighted candles) to me. It was pretty cool (especially knowing how rare and special this PCV/counterpart relationship is) and I am looking forward to being busy with work. Lorena if you’re reading this, thank you thank you thank you. I can’t thank you enough for making my transition so smooth and seamless.
I told my host dad I wanted to order a few things from the carpenter. In good Togo fashion, the carpenter showed up randomly one night at 7 p.m. to discuss what I wanted. So there we were, me, my host dad, and this carpenter sitting on my porch, the only light from the flashlights on our cellphones discussing what a dresser looks like. I drew pictures, wrote dimensions, translated the words, and am still crossing my fingers that I get something that resembles what I had in mind, or is useful at least! And yes, you heard right, still waiting on those items. PCV’s have been known to go and sit at their carpenters shop to make sure they make their items after they’ve tired of waiting months; I’m prepared to do so except because he came to me, I have no idea where his shop is! However, my desire to quit living off the floor and out of a suitcase will drive me to track him down!
My relationship with God is growing stronger each day as He is the one constant companion I have in each moment of this adventure. Each morning I read from a devotional (thank you Linda) and have been more interested in reading the Bible than ever before. Like Rev. Mike says, “God is with you at every turn, providing everything you need.” I’ve so thankfully found a few churches in LT who have welcomed me with open arms and who’s services (while I understand bits and pieces) I really enjoy. Ironically, the very routine and order that drove me nuts in the Catholic church in the states, is now something I really appreciate as the Catholics start and end when they say they will! Other churches may last 90 minutes, two hours, you just never really know. But the Catholics, they stick to the schedule and I love it! Had to chuckle when I realized this sitting in church last Sunday!
I’ve kept a discoveries/lessons learned, things I’m thankful for list and it has helped me be present in each moment and see the blessings that I know are there each day. As I head into September and start to strategize some community meetings and activities I’d like to do next month, waiting to find a French tutor (they have moved school back to now start in October and most of the teachers are still gone) I’m keeping a list of “Living out Goal 2 & 3”—sharing Togo with the US and vice versa. This is in conversations with my host family, the NGO staff, kids, anyone I interact with. From the discussions with my host brother about the importance of nutrition, to teaching my 13-year-old host sister the alphabet, to her standing over instructing me as to how to properly scrub a mat on my hands and knees; that’s living out PC’s goal 2 &3. This is my attempt to feel useful; like I’m accomplishing something.
Having said that, September has brought its own challenges and rough days already. I just had gotten used to sitting and reading on my porch for hours, just ‘being’, walking around and ‘hanging out’ and now I’ve got to start putting myself out there more, digging a little deeper with the people, and start doing and organizing things, brainstorming projects. Yes, it’s exactly what I want –work- and to be busy- but the challenge is steep and scary and unknown. All things I wanted when I signed up for this – but now as it stares me in the face it feels like I’m being told to not only ‘do work’ with the people, but do it standing on your hands and walking backwards. Live in their culture, survive the conditions, speak their language, and do meaningful, worthwhile and sustainable work. I’m sure it will come, they all say it will, but right now that’s how I feel. I’ve put it in God’s hands. I believe He has laid these passions, dreams, and desires to be here, living among these people, and working alongside them on my heart and I must trust He will continue to show me the way. Patience.
Finally, running, once again is keeping me sane. I feel empowered, rejuvenated, energized and have my best ideas on my runs. I’ll leave you with a few of them:
Togolese paradoxes:
The food is filling; but nutritionally empty.
The people don’t know me from the milkman; but welcome and love me as one of their own.
The landscape is beautiful; but the elements will destroy you.
The work is all around me; yet I have no idea where to begin.
Life is simple; yet each day is a struggle.
This is the choice I’ve made. The struggle I signed up for. Each day, (each day!) I must remind myself that while I am adapting and adjusting, learning and growing, it’s never, ever going to be easy.
I welcome ANY and ALL mail!
Here is my address:Taylor Schaa
Corps de la Paix
B.P.224
Sokode, Togo
West Africa
Hang tough.
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