Wednesday, March 28, 2012

Tents & Mice

March 28, 2012
Not a lot to write about for last week and this week… a bit of a down time but it’s alright as I’ve got some great reads keeping me company. 

Just finished The Red Tent and was so struck by how many things from the life of Biblical times parallel the ways of life here in Togo. I made a list. If you’ve read the book you know it’s about a woman, Dinah, from the Genesis Chapter 34 so the reader gains a real insight about the lives of women in that era, even if the book is pure fiction.  From carrying water from the well each morning, to cooking for the family and caring for the children to the fascination and desire to have babies – multiple babies. Losing babies and how common and almost expected it was back then and still isn’t a total shock when it happens here.  My Togolese host sister’s life of fetching, tending the garden and helping with the other children doesn’t seem so foreign when reading about the young girls doing the same things in the book. Women’s lower position of serving men, bowing to them and having very little voice in the relationship. Ironically, I’ve noticed my host mother and father eating together recently- quite rare- and in the book there were a few women who stood up and were listened to by the men.  How the women in the book form a bond; a community all their own.  The women in the story go to town to sell their wool and hawk at every passerby.. yep that’s Togo. Teacher’s beating students when they make a mistake, families sleeping outside when it’s too hot, naked kids playing in the dust, morning is the busiest time of day before the  heat of the day sets in as women fetch water and gossip at the well, sweep and the men leave early for the farm or fields.  All things I read in the Red Tent only to look up and watch the same things happening here on a daily basis in Togo. Interestingly enough it helped me accept the circumstances here a bit more.  I think as foreigners we often come in and only see all the problems, areas to improve in the lives of people living in a developing country.  I’ll walk around LT wishing I could get the people to eat better, sleep under mosquito nets, drink clean water…etc. But when I look at it from this historical perspective, I didn’t see so much wrong with it; just how it is and it’s okay. A bit of a strange feeling…

In other news the Camp Espoir team met last weekend in Sokode with our NGO counterparts.  Two organizations from each of the 5 regions of Togo were represented as we discussed Camp this year.  Each organization works directly with children and their families infected or affected by HIV/AIDS in their respective regions.  These are the NGO’s who select and bring the kids to camp each summer.  We introduced a new concept of raising community support/awareness, which was met with mixed responses.  This is a new idea (local fundraising) as many Togolese – like many in the developing world- have grown a mindset of expecting foreign aid instead of gaining local support and making things happen on their own.  And it’s possible.  Not all, but many families have the means to donate a little but the concept is so unknown because when someone needs something they all pitch in but rarely do they give to a ‘campaign’, organization, event – or a camp for the vulnerable kids in their communities.  We’ve asked the each organization to hold an event of some sort to help raise awareness of Camp Espoir and maybe raise a little financial support.  Who would have thought when I entered the fundraising world back at UNI it would land me here trying to teach the concept to Togolese.

What else? Oh yes, I have mice.  For the first few months here I heard scratching around in my drop ceiling and got away with pretending they were just lizards but last week I discovered droppings in my dresser drawers. AHHHH.  I can handle ants and lizards but mice are just gross.  Spreading the poison liberally while cringing at the thought of having to remove a dead smelly one…oh this life.

Next week is Easter break for the school here so I’m going to voyage north to spend a few days at the pool in Kara and then visit some friends’ villages.  There is a Passover dinner in Atakpame on Friday, organized by the Jewish PCV’s here that I may try to get to and experience but if not, I’m planning to spend Easter back here and ‘fete’ or celebrate with my friends from the Catholic church.  

I’ve been wanting to repost the post below for a while from PCV in Ethiopia.  He describes this PCV life so well and even though he’s on the other side of the continent, it couldn’t mirror my life any better. I hope it will give you a glimpse into this life too..enjoy and thanks to “Waids World” for this post.

"The Real Peace Corps" (Michael Waidmann)
I feel as though I’ve done somewhat of a disservice throughout this blog. I’ve painted a picture of my time here that isn’t precisely accurate. I’m an emotional person, romantic, optimistic to a fault. I like extremes and superlatives. I exaggerate in an attempt to draw the reader in, and to make sense of things I can’t make sense of.
I romanticize this experience as a function of my personality but also as a coping mechanism. Peace Corps is really hard.
So I want to write about the real Ethiopia. And the real Peace Corps experience. That way, if a future volunteer reads this, they understand what to expect, and won’t hate me for only showing sunset pictures and kids holding hands.
So what should you expect?
Nothing is the best answer. Expect nothing and you will be pleasantly surprised. Every experience is different. My friend Jon lives 80 miles away. Our lives could not be more different. His house has no floor save for the mud it was built on. He is lucky to have power one day out of the week.  My sitemate Dave lives 200 meters from my house and our experiences are entirely different.
So here are some observations, a look into what I do, and an idea of what your potential service will look like.
Peace Corps is defined by a strange dichotomy. Freedom and containment. I wake up every day with a blank slate. I can do anything. I can do nothing. And while the possibilities are only limited by my own imagination, the ability to do as I please is corrupted by a number of social, political, and cultural practices.
Case in point: Most volunteers assume they will run to let off steam in their new country. However, running here is a cause of stress more so than a release. You get stared at as a foreigner here. These are stares that know no shame. Stares that you can feel without seeing. They are honest and curious stares, but can crack even the kindest of spirits. But a foreigner in shorts? Running? That is unheard of.  Running here means being followed by hordes of children, the last thing you need when trying to let off steam.
I want to export coffee to benefit local farmers and provide an organic alternative to the Starbucks mess we have back home. The bureaucratic structure here has destroyed those dreams. Disappointment is part of the PC experience.
Doing something like the Peace Corps will be your lowest of lows and your highest of highs. Highs that shatter your previous world views.  You will feel refreshed, walk in a forest and quote Thoreau. The lows can last so long that you need a fleeting moment of existentialism just to make it through the rainy season. Well, that, and a ton of movies. You will consider going home. You will count down the days until you leave. You will count up from the day you arrived.
“I can’t believe we’ve been here for a year.”
“I can’t believe we’ll be here another year!”
You will understand yourself, question yourself. Compare where you came from to where you are. I have days when I miss America. I have days when I loathe it. Why do people care about Charlie Sheen and Amy Winehouse? How many marines died last week? How many kids in the horn of Africa died of hunger? I can’t even imagine dying of hunger. When I’m hungry, I eat.
But I eat strange food. Ethiopian food is unlike anything else in the world. Sometimes it is delicious, but most times it is very mediocre. Other times, it is so incredibly bad that I consider burning down every plant that grows whatever the hell is in ‘gunfo’
Don’t try gunfo.
Universally, Peace Corps volunteers crave food. I have dreams about it. Vivid dreams where I belly flop into a bowl of ice cream off of a hot fudge brownie diving board. Sushi. I have a long distance relationship with Sushi and we are not communicating well.
As volunteers, we love to complain. We joke about our poop and our pooping locations. We laugh about smelling bad.
We smell bad.
We yearn for hot showers. But I think it’s just for show. Any volunteer, more so than food or showers, miss people and places. You will miss friends and seasons. During your service, you will be alone on the Fourth of July, Halloween, Thanksgiving. You will miss your family, your really hot girlfriend, and the contextual clues you associate with fond memories. I know what the Chesapeake bay feels like on thanksgiving. I can feel the football, and taste the sweet potato pie. I know what Glebe Park looks like, the green asphalt and the smell of cut grass.
You will be stared at 24/7 365. I understand what it’s like to be a good-looking girl at a frat party. Stay strong ladies.
You will develop an eerie sense of calm. I’ve spent 75 hours in the last two weeks on a bus. The DMV will be a breeze now. I’ve found new and embarrassing ways to entertain myself. I could watch paint dry and be perfectly happy.
One of the great things about Peace Corps is you have a massive amount of time to become a better person. The best advice I can give is to try and do something everyday to improve upon yourself. For some people this is writing or reading. For others it is teaching English or working out. Learn an instrument or paint. Do whatever works for you, but know this: You will stare at the wall. I stare at the wall a lot. I’ve had every thought someone can have. Probably twice.
Transportation completely sucks.
I just got out of a bus with 12 seats on it. There were 25 people on it. There were two chickens and probably 20 kilo’s of rancid butter. Here’s a quck letter:
Dear Ethiopia,
It’s ok to open the windows on the bus. I promise you won’t die from the wind. I promise it’s not that cold. Currently, sweat is running down my lower back and into the danger zone. My sweat is sweating. Fresh air is nothing to be scared of. Tuberculosis is. As much as I like saunas and the smell of chicken feces, can we please crack the window’s for 2 minutes? I will love you forever.
Yours truly,
Michael
There is no average day.
Last week, my Tuesday was crazy. I had a meeting with the tourism office about making them a website. I taught a man how to make guacemole and tortillas which he will sell in his store. I played basketball, added a layer to a clay oven and worked on the newsletter I am writing for Peace Corps.
The next day? I slept in, watched a silly amount of the show ‘Dexter’ and checked my fantasy baseball team while the internet was up. Yeah, I’m cool.
There will be times when, despite your pictures of you hugging little kids, you just want to tackle one of them and scream, my name is NOT,
“you you you!!!!!, give me money!!!!!!”
In America we ask for the time. Here, we ask for the month. It’s the most obvious difference. The pace of life here is slow, methodical, cyclical. Everything takes a long time. If you aren’t a patient person you will become one.
Life here is completely different. It is another world, lost in space and time. It is hard, and the little annoyances can manifest themselves into a black cloud. They certainly will, but it is important to make note of the small victories and the little moments. When I open my eyes I am reminded of why I am here. Just when I think a kid is running up to me to ask me for money, she tells me that she loves me and blows a kiss. But then I get on a bus and start crying. I’m stuck in the middle of nowhere with a busted engine. It’s getting dark, I have a chicken in my lap and personal space at this point is a distant memory. People are yelling into their cell phones, begging me to speak to them and take them to America. Oh and the only food in the town by the road is Gunfo.
Remember in times like this to take a deep breath. Peace Corps really is a roller coaster. An exhilarating and scary ride that completely sucks and totally kicks ass.
And when you are feeling down, just remember to go outside and let Africa save you.

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

WWEC- A lesson in planning

Wow. The Women’s Wellness & Empowerment Conference (WWEC) was really something.  By far the busiest week I’ve had in Togo.  Last Wednesday our team of 10 PCV’s and 3 national WWEC PCV organizers gathered to discuss the 4 day long conference.  I was overwhelmed, stressed and anxious.  I learned a strong lesson in planning – and I love to plan.  You see, I was in charge of leading 3 sessions on business topics, two with Rebekah, one by myself and my Togolese instructors (three women who attended last year’s conference),  helping with a session on self-confidence, one on goal setting, and one by myself on nutrition.  Then, I had two morning sessions of yoga.  This is a lot and unfortunately I underestimated the amount of time needed to plan.  In America, I could whip out these sessions no problem- with a few minutes of prep, a few minutes to throw a powerpoint together, and I could always rely on the knowledge off the top of my head.  Well, Togo works differently and I needed a concrete plan for each session, ranging from 30-90 min with flip charts (working on going green next year) and spots for the Togolese instructors to help and have an input.  What made this even more challenging was co-leading a session and thus having to strategize with my fellow PCV. Oh and then put it all in French! WHEW! Let’s just say Wednesday was not my finest day.  Luckily I pulled it together and after a long night of flip charts and discussing, I put the last pieces together Thursday morning and was ready for the participants to arrive Thursday afternoon.

From there it was go-go-go.  Thursday night we had an opening ceremony with the past participants testimonies and then after dinner a candle light ceremony.  One of the Togolese instructors, Madame Amina led this session and it was amazing.  She talked about how women are the heart of the family, the world and we have the opportunity to grow and learn at this conference and improve our lives, families, and our world.  Even cooler, she used a word in local language that summed all that up- and you could see it click with the women. 

The event was held at Hotel Central in Sokode, a hotel with hot running water, air conditioning and a restaurant.  It’s a real hotel J The idea was for this to be a vacation for the women, who ranged in age from 28-55.  We hoped they would feel pampered as for some of them this was their first time away from home and definitely the first time enjoying the aforementioned luxuries.  Ironically, throughout the week when I had to go to a women’s room I noticed the air was not on which made me wonder if they were even using it or the hot water.  Hm.  Also, our regional coordinators planned all the meals – to be complete with veggies and fruit and meat – a rare thing to have in each meal here.  We ate well. I ate myself sick a few days.  But the women- they wanted to know where their pate (pronounced pot) was.  This is the staple of Togolese diet- ground corn flour boiled and made into a paste like substance that they eat with a variety of sauces.  Ah- forcing a round peg into a square hole?  An interesting lesson in western vs local culture and values. Selfishly, myself and the other PCV’s were in heaven; taking multiple showers, turning the AC on high, eating ourselves silly.  In fact, our AC worked so well it took us until the 4th night to be able to sleep through the night without having to turn it off because we were too cold. Funny how your body adapts.  Rebekah took pictures of us bundled up in all of the clothes we had; my heaviest dresses on top of me in the bed for warmth. It was wonderful and made the few days after the conference tough in readjusting to the ‘real world.’

Back to the conference.  Yoga was held on the tennis courts at 6 am and I led the women through basic breathing exercises and then some basic yoga poses.  Then, Jes one of our national PCV coordinators followed with a talk about stress. Demonstrating the difference between physical stress (going to the farm every day, cooking, cleaning, taking care of the children) by having a women carry lots of things and run back and forth.  Then I stood on a chair and filled a bucket on top of a woman’s head with water as Jes explained mental stress. Each time she listed off something stressful (kids sick, husband not helping, no money, daughter pregnant, a death, a marriage) I added water to the bucket to signify the weight on your head.  It was so cool and you could see the women totally getting this new concept.  We then connected how simple breathing and yoga is a good way to deal with this stress.  An awesome way to start the conference.

Melissa, a girls education PCV, and I lead the opening session on self-confidence, another new concept.  We did a skit of a husband belittling his wife over this and that and the wife not responding at all.  Then we had the women write down negative things they hear in their life. Then we had them tear up the papers and throw them in the trash.  “Today,” we said, “will be the start of positive and encouraging things in our lives, and it starts with us.” We then went on to talk about all the things we liked about ourselves and all the things we can do.  The women were quiet and but we knew they were comprehending as they finished the exercise about positive things about themselves beautifully. 

Then, as I sat in the back room, helping prep for the next session I listened as Jes and Amina led a session on Women’s Rights.  I smiled as I heard their different ideas of rights and thought of my own mother’s voice and the response she would give me when I was a child and demanding something she just HAD to do for me.  “All I have to do is die and pay taxes,” she would say. And this is the gist of what the women came to (although very few people pay taxes in Togo as so much work is unregistered).  They don’t HAVE to have children, they don’t HAVE to be the sole person in charge of the children; it’s suppose to be a team effort.  Another moving moment knowing some real thinking and change was going on in these 18 women’s minds and hearts.

A really cool afternoon session was about women’s sexual reproductive health and Madame Amina (who is a trained midwife) drew a big uterus/fallopian tube/ovary/ vagina diagram in chalk right on the conference room tile floor.  Amazing when she asked how it works and which part is which how many women had no idea.  It was so cool to watch her walk through (literally) the process to explain how pregnancy, monthly cycle works.  Later, one of the women’s reported favorite sessions was on Family Planning and the advantages it brings for the woman, baby, family, and all of Togo.  

That night we had a natural beauty night for the women.  Melissa and I gave facials using different concoctions made from local things (orange juice, honey, salt, etc) while PCV’s gave manicures and pedicures.  It was so neat to be able to serve these women.  After facials I soon found myself on the floor scrubbing and massaging feet.  I don’t mind feet and I quite enjoyed watching the women relaxing and enjoy being taken care of.  Most feet weren’t too nasty (as I expected) but one bigger mama had some massive feet. Swollen, cracked, heavy and thick -it was nuts.  She was a bit embarrassed but I encouraged her to use shea butter (which they sell in the market here) for the cracks and cuts and to elevate her feet at night for the swelling.

Exhausted, I collapsed around 11 only to wake a few hours late to be ready for yoga.  Bring on the coffee.  Thankfully, my energy and passion came through as I gave one of the first sessions of the day on nutrition.  The women know and understand nutrition so after I had them split into groups and play a little game about making a ‘complete’ meal (not just pate and tomato sauce) with produce and protein, I really tried to get to the heart of WHY so many families don’t practice good nutrition.  Is it money, ignorance, what? I explained how when a child only eats carbs (pate or yams –a very common meal for lunch) or fried dough their brain doesn’t fully develop and tried to stress the need for variety.  I gave the real example of my host family; how my family has the money to buy vegetables and the means (my mom goes to Sokode twice a week) but yet the only vegetables the family eats besides tomatoes and onions are the left over cabbage I give them.  Ultimately, I told them they have to choose to make nutrition a priority for their families.

Rebekah and I led two more sessions about a feasibility study (selling a product or service so that you actually make a profit) and then a longer session about planning, budgeting and saving.  Both went really well and the latter was one of the women’s favorites.  After they learned how to make a garden in a sack (if they don’t have the land close) to grow staple, simple vegetables I led a panel of the Togolese instructors financial examples.  Each shared their methods of saving, budgeting and how their lives have changed because of it.  I felt like a talk show host.  Thankfully, through all of these sessions I wasn’t nervous or self conscious with my French at all.  Most of these women haven’t been educated past middle school, so their French isn’t that strong either and so it worked.  Having other PCV’s in the room to help when I got stuck on a word or didn’t understand a response was key too. We ended that night with another candle ceremony where the women went around and said what they learned and will take away from the conference.  Later, the women gave traditional dances in their various ethnicity backgrounds.  Amazing to watch how women who have never met each other all know the dance of the Kabye women for example and to watch their pride in their culture. We did the Macarana for them-ha! 

Sunday morning we concluded with how to be a female role model and each woman set a long term goal and objectives to reach their goals in spreading their knowledge with their communities.  Needless to say, this was a very powerful few days.  Exhausting and exhilarating I didn’t really do much but sleep and rest Sunday afternoon and Monday.  A truly incredible and rewarding week; for the women and their futures, for me as a women and as a PCV. 

Monday, March 12, 2012

Acceptance

Apparently 9 months is my magic number.  I’ve officially been in Togo 9 months and just this week I’ve felt this amazing sense of peace and acceptance with my life here.  I believe it was Thursday this week that it hit me; this is a hard life, it’s never going to get easier and you’re always going to miss people.  That is my thing- missing people and places back home.  Some volunteers miss the food in America more than anything, some miss the weather,--and while I miss both of those too, my ‘plight’ is longing for people and company of my close friends and family. But this week a new peace washed over me.  The realization that this longing is never really going to go away brought hope instead of anguish.  And I’m so thankful.

Whoever has been praying for cooler temperatures, God has heard and answered. And I thank you.  Friday morning was nasty hot but around noon it clouded over and I wasn’t afraid to ride my bike across town at 3 p.m. it was so exciting!  Then around 2 am Saturday morning the rain came and poured and poured for a few hours. Not only did I get a fresh round of water out of this but it brought quite cool temps all day Saturday and Sunday and we have been basking in the comfortable temps and lack of sweating!

An updated on the very malnourished little girl:  Terry the health agent took her and her mother to the hospital last week where they told her she must take the child immediately north to Kara where they have a specific clinic for children in her condition.  At no cost to the family (only the travel to get there and back) they can leave the little girl and come back for her when she is well again. The family’s response: they are tired and they have no money to take her to the clinic.  The mother is going to try and sell some fabric and the father retreated to the bush to collect some charcoal to sell. I found out later that she fell sick back in August, having been relatively healthy before that. The trip to Kara is relatively inexpensive (only about 90 min away) and they could definitely collect the money in one night after prayer at the mosque. Alas, they said they’ve already asked too many friends/family for money and they don’t want to do that again. So, I’m resisting urges.  The urge to criticize these negligent parents because it’s not like I can file a report with DHS and the urge to flag down a car and put the mother and child on it headed for Kara.  You see that’s the point, but it’s hard to explain and I may sound like a selfish, unloving person here. But this little girl has been sick for 7 months and now just because we have discovered her and her sad condition, it’s hard to declare we will make her well and simply hand over the 5 mille it will take for them to go and come to the clinic.  Believe me, part of me really really wants to just do that and be done with it; removing it from my conscious.  But that’s not why I’m here.  Hard to explain but serving as a PCV is about walking into a village and solving all of the problems by doling out money.  But she’s going to die Taylor, you say. Yes, she may die, but like one wise man said, maybe it would be a blessing for her to pass onto heaven and rest.  I don’t know the answer. I’m praying for the family to find the money, or what’s more, to be motivated to find the money and then actually get her to the clinic.

Last week was busy busy and this week just might be my busiest yet… and I this fits me so well.  Monday and Tuesday Ryan (health PCV in Sokode) and I worked at his house and mine to prepare for our meeting Wednesday with the NGOf that Aposto is the director of.  Wednesday morning we held a kick-butt presentation on Family Planning with the hopes that the NGO staff would take the info back to their team of local health agents who they oversee.  Ryan did a phenomenal job; he is a great presenter and his French and knowledge of the topic is impressive.  This is something I’m passionate about promoting and I’m so thankful Ryan could help make this happen. 

Wednesday afternoon was English Club at the middle school and this always makes me happy and hopeful. My kids are so great. About 20-25 pre-teens who are energetic and attentive and make me feel pretty special.  They finished their letters to America; sending them off to the kids at YESS in Des Moines and Stratford school.  Hoping to establish a solid ‘pen-pal’ effort!  Some of the leaders (and my favorites, of course) of the club took over labeling and numbering the new books we received from the Pleasant View and Stratford classes.  A special THANK YOU to these generous kids and encouraging teachers.  Also, THANK YOU to the WC Rotary Club for making the shipping of these boxes possible… watch your mailbox .. we will have something headed your way too!

Because my family’s well is almost dry, my kids help me carry water from the well a little ways a way after English Club and then they accompany me on my way to Mr. Sinya’s house and peel off as we reach each of their houses on the way. It’s a pretty cool time I look forward to each Wednesday. I went to Sinya’s on this particular night because he was inviting those who had helped him cultivate and prep his farm for yam planting over for a calabash of tchouk.  Yes, this is normal; work for your teacher and then come drink with him.  By the time I arrived the students had gone and a few teachers remained and I enjoyed some warm tchouk with them.  Sinya thanked my privately later saying, “we have a system here, when you eat and drink with us it shows respect and we really appreciate it.” No problem, dude. I’ll take a free meal (even if it is ground corn with nasty green sauce-yep I’ve reached that point) and bowl of fermented millet anytime.

Thursday morning I spent at the middle/high school sitting in on the English classes. This is both rewarding and frustrating.  I also always realize how much grammar I’ve forgotten or don’t even realize I use on a daily basis.  If my French ever becomes understandable for Togolese, I think I’d enjoy teaching a class next school year. We will see.  Then that afternoon was Girls club.  In theory this activity every Thursday afternoon would be more rewarding as we’re teaching 60+ girls life skills like communication and self confidence.  However, with my French still struggling (Sinya and Aposto can comprehend my poor speaking best) Sinya is really the one who leads the club, which is fine as he is passionate about it and is respected by all.  While frustrating for me, I pray the message about good communication skills (eye contact is a novel thing here to girls) reached a few of them.

Friday I enjoyed a more relaxed day.  I made some special batik gifts (for some special people with special days coming up J ) with Aposto and then I spent the rest of the day under his piotte where it’s cool reading my book.  I didn’t feel like doing anything else, and I gave myself permission to sit and read and read…and it was wonderful.  I did head over to Sinya’s later to practice my yoga with the kids hanging at his house.  I’m teaching yoga (in French) this week for the women’s conference and I needed to practice the commands with the movements and who better than four twelve year old boys. It was funny to watch them try to stretch and encouraging as they understood what I was saying!

Saturday I enjoyed the morning at home and then went ‘shopping’ in the market (every Saturday in LT) with Nima who helped me pick out some dressier sandals for my upcoming presentations.  I also ordered some liquid soap (think dish soap) from a woman and then said hello to one of my girls from Club who was selling tchouk in her families stand.  This seems normal to me; but once in a while I can look at this me/this place as an outsider looking in and realize how strange that might seem… a twelve year old selling local beer and inviting me to drink with her. Oh this place. We enjoyed some tchouk with the usual crowd at our usual tchouk stand and called it a night.  Yesterday, Sunday I headed to Sokode early on my bike where I had to attend meetings for CampEspoir (Camp Hope) and it was a very full day where I realized even more how crazy this spring and summer are truly going to be… whoo hoo!

And this week; here we go.  Thursday, 20 Togolese women from throughout my region will arrive for a 4 day conference on information from each of the 4 PC  sectors.  I’m helping lead 4 sessions plus two mornings of yoga.  How do you do this in French, Taylor, you ask? Good question. Lots of flip charts and pronunciation practice with Sinya…and leaning on other PCV’s for help!  I’m pumped though.  I love to plan and organize events so tomorrow (Tues) I’ll head to Sokode to begin setting up and getting ready for this exciting week! 

Thursday, March 1, 2012

New month; new experience


This morning was something.  I awoke at 6 to find Hortance on my porch looking half dead.  She has been sick since Monday with pain in her eyes, stomach and now back.  She gets sick a lot; she’s repeating this year in school because she was also sick last year.  She’s frustrated, I’m frustrated. What can she do? What are her options?  With no family but a few uncles who are small farmers who live in the bush, she’s got nothing.  She’s been staying home from school and considered dropping out because she’s missed so much but Aposto encouraged her to continue.  So, once again I gave her some money to go to the hospital and get a real test of what’s going on with her. 
I scarfed down some peanut butter and jelly oatmeal and then headed off to meet up with Terry, an ASC (volunteer community health agent) and my electrician here in LT. It was not quite 8 a.m. yet the sun was strong already and I wasn’t too excited to go walking around the village.  However, I was trying to trust God had something in store for me, and boy did He ever. 
The first two home visits went well.  We were in the Christian part of town so many families were in the process of making tchouk (homemade sorghum beer) for Saturday’s market.  The first house Terry demonstrated how much bleach you need to add to a large pot of water in order to purify it.  Especially important right now as the wells are drying up and the water is turning even dirtier. He spoke in local language and asked how many mosquito nets they family had and if they actually sleep under them.  With it getting even warmer, people don’t like to sleep under the nets and so we explained (or rather I reminded Terry in French, who in turn said it in Kaybe) that they should shower right before bed in order to cool off.  People don’t believe malaria can kill you; so many people get it so often that they are sick a few days (normally) take the medicine and move on.  Similar to a cold for us in the States, except Malaria can kill you.  Togo has a unique strain of mosquito that carries the deadly version and many people are unaware of this and thus don’t see the importance of sleeping under their net (which a NGO has recently distributed for free).
  The third home we were greeted under a thatched hut by a man who spoke French and a few woman.  We sat down and it appeared to be a normal visit.  We asked about the health of his family and he calmly pointed and said he had a sick daughter.  I didn’t pay attention very well because it wasn’t for a few more moments until I caught sight of the extremely nobby knee of a small child sitting on the ground, half hidden behind her mother who was crushing leaves to be used as medicine.  Her legs were so thin I didn’t believe they could be legs.  We continued the visit but I couldn’t stop watching the child who was nibbling at some fried dough. The little girl who we found out later is supposedly three, cried when her mother picked her up to place her in a basin filled with warm medicinal water.  Oh. My. Goodness. I nearly vomited. I’ve never in my life seen a body like that.  You could see literally every bone in the little girl’s body. She had no hair and the skin was stretched over her ribs and covered in little pimple like dots.  The skin on her legs and arms hung loose.  She was crying as her mother gently washed her and then I couldn’t hold back.  I pulled my sunglasses back down over my eyes and resisted the urge to grab Terry’s shoulder and cry all over it. Terry obviously was aware with what was going on but he continued with the bleach and mosquito net questions.  I couldn’t let it go though. I asked if they had been to the hospital. I knew LT’s hospital is unique in that it has the products for malnourished kids.  The man replied that the hospital wanted to charge them for it.  I stood up and made a phone call to the new doctor at the hospital who apparently didn’t save my number and unfortunately couldn’t understand my French. I agreed to come visit later. 
We continued on to the next house and the last house ended up being one of the major tchouk stands in that area.  I remembered if from one of my first weeks here in LT when Aposto had showed me around.  After the health talk was done with the guy who lived there, Terry said, ‘and now we drink.’ Alrighty then.  So, over a calabash of tchouk at 10 am, Terry and I discussed the severity of the little girl’s situation and I insisted we go to the hospital to discuss right away.  The hospital is on the north end of LT so we walked another 15 minutes in the blazing sun where Terry explained the situation and the doctor insisted that he bring the child back this afternoon.  My American pushy-ness came through (with a little courage from the tchouk) as I told him the best I knew how that I was quite upset with this situation.
On our walk back to the family’s house we ran into Terry’s boss and my co-worker, Felicite.  Felicite is a gem; she’s intelligent and passionate.  I explained the situation to her (felt bad for Terry- like I was tattling on him to his boss or something – but darn it, this child’s life was in danger) and she decided to come with us.  This time it was just the mother and the little girl there and we asked how long she had been in LT and if the girl had had her vaccinations.  She also has a son who is eight and goes to school and who is apparently healthy.  The mother agreed to go with Terry this afternoon to the hospital.  I wish I could go but I have my girls club that I must be at. I will call Terry tonight to see what they decide this afternoon but he said at one point he would come back and help me show them how to make the enriched porridge if it came to that.  Makes me think a lot because I realize I’ve gotten used to little half-naked children running around with their bellies protruding.  You get used to seeing them with snotty noses and dirty but this was a whole different story and yes, I’m okay with being an overzealous, obnoxious American in this situation, insisting  that something be done for this child who can barely keep its eyes open, who can’t be touched or move without crying. 
Oy oy oy. I then went straight to the photo copier stand (yes, they exist in LT) and made copies of the paper I have on how to make enriched porridge using beans, peanuts and flour.  A lot of times if babies won’t drink their mother’s milk they will try giving them porridge with little to no nutritional value.  Hopefully each ASC can keep a copy with them for their home visits in the future.
I want to acknowledge my lack of writing in the past weeks. I’ve been having a hard time and haven’t wanted to write when I was having doubts and frustrations with this experience.  I’ve written blog entries in that time as a way to vent and reflect but have been resistant to post and bear my true soul to you all. However, after much thought, I believe in being honest.  This experience is not rosey or nice. It’s not easy, clean or fun.  So, below are thoughts that I put together over the past weeks.  Some of it isn’t pretty but it’s real and truthful and I believe you can take what you want from it. Bottom line: I’m here, I’m struggling but I’m pushing on with God’s strength, peace and blessings.

Truth: February 19, 2012

I just spent the hour au champ – or at the farm. It was the most rewarding hour I’ve had in a few weeks.  I was on my way to go spend an hour pounding the pavement and rounding out my day with a run when I stopped to speak with my French tutor, Mr. Sinya.  A girl at the school led me just past the classrooms where about 15 boys were barefoot and working on digging up giant piles to be planted with yams.  Randomly (or so it seems to me) the teachers will decide the afternoon will be spent cleaning up the schoolyard (pulling weeds, sweeping the dirt, picking up trash) or working in the teacher’s farms.  When I arrived the boys immediately started teasing that I couldn’t dig or do the work.  Of course that didn’t sit well with me and I began to untie my shoe laces peel off my socks; I wasn’t about to let Togolese boys who 1 don’t think girls can work in the fields and 2 who sometimes think white people don’t do physical labor win this argument.   Sinya looked at my bewildered but he handed me a hoe as I took of my rings, put my socks in my shoes and placed my shiny new Muzuno’s atop a yam pile.  “Where do I start,” I said.  Still amazed but encouraging he led me to a row that had yet to be dug.  The boys were finishing up for the day but I said since I was intending to run for an hour, I would spend the hour digging instead.  “I have muscles too,” I added as the boys roared with laughter and snickered in local language.  After I proved myself on the first pile the slowly went back to work and I insisted they speak French so at least I could try to understand their jokes.  Myself and another boy who I recognized from church helped round out my piles as I dug.  Together, we created 12 new piles (only ONE yam will come from each pile!) and I’ve got the blisters and scraped up feet to prove it.

How did this simple hour of digging and getting dirty, sweaty and bug bitten make me so happy? I’ve been struggling… a lot lately.  The days are long and the afternoons are hot and seem to drag on and on. I absolutely dread the afternoon –which also happens to be the hottest part of the day.  Every day, no matter how hard I try I still end up having a couple rough hours that sometimes end in tears.  I like Togo in the mornings and after 4 pm when the sun has retreated and you can function again; it’s just those darn hours from about 1-4 that I can’t stand this place.  So, when I not only got to prove myself and put in some sweat equity with my Togolese students and neighbors this afternoon, I also had the chance to escape my own afternoon thoughts and be productive in a whole new way. A way that’s sometimes difficult as a PCV.  We have lots of discussions and we share information that could be life changing if adapted, but we often don’t see the results in our time here.  After an hour this afternoon, I was able to stand back and look at the work I had helped in Sinya’s farm… the farm that he will eat from after the next harvest, the farm, the yams he relies on to feed himself and his handful of nieces and nephews living with him. It was awesome, exhilarating, empowering.  It was just what I needed today.

Work has picked up and I am quite busy, yet the days seem to be long.  I’m trying to keep my head up and some days are still the attitude of just getting through.  



It’s been a while since I’ve written… well only two weeks, but it feels like longer.  That’s been my issue lately: time passing so slowly.  I believe in being honest in my account of this experience and my attitude towards Togo hasn’t been that great, hence why I’ve put off blogging. I wanted to refrain from laying how I truly feel out there hoping it was just a readjustment back to this life. And that it has been.  I’ve struggled a lot in this experience. From keeping track of the days I cried in training, then to the number of days I cried in the first three months, and now I’m back at it.  Again, it is just getting back into things, don’t get me wrong. But I also don’t want to portray that everything is fine and dandy.  One of my biggest annoyances is when people pretend everything is okay, putting on a front.  I believe in being real.  While I know that’s not always pretty or polite, I’m still prefer the truth to a sugar coated version.

Anyway,  I wanted to get that out there because I am still struggling.  Yes, work has picked up and I’m grateful for that. I have promising projects on the horizon that I will detail later but still, the days are long, hot and lonely.   It’s the loneliness that gets me the most I think.  When Vanessa visits or when I’m at Rebekah’s in Sokode I usually feel pretty good. It’s just still strange to me to be entirely in your own world- by yourself with only your thoughts- for days on end.  I miss people, companionship. Maybe that’s what I’m suppose to learn from all this; how important and truly irreplaceable relationships are. Yes, I have friends here in LT. Yes, I can go hang out at Aposto’s or my French tutor’s house and feel very welcomed. But it’s not the same.  The language barrier does not allow for me to be completely me.  Many PCV’s talk about this—how they can’t really be themselves because of this, it’s truly one of the bigger challenges.  It’s funny how I signed up for this adventure to experience something other than the ‘9-5’ and the same-old-same-old.  Funny how that’s what I’d really like right now.  I wonder if I’ll ever be able to see my grass in the same shade as the other side?

In saying that I also know this has strengthened my walk with God; seeking His presence and peace and will for my time here.  I realized sitting in church this morning that when I’m around others, I don’t seek Him as much… maybe that’s why I’m here, to develop that habit regardless of the circumstances or situation.

February 6-19 highlights:
·         Trip to Kara for the national training of trainers for the upcoming Women’s Conference. 
o   Along with the other female PCV volunteers in my region (Central) we put together a three day conference that will include sessions on health and nutrition, basic budgeting and financial planning, self confidence and womens rights and more.  I’ll be co leading four sessions along with the morning yoga and aerobics workouts!  Aerobics in French—this is going to be something! 
o   Also got spend an afternoon at the pool at Hotel Kara.  Of course it was the only overcast and cloudy day of the week but I loved every second of it nonetheless.  Veronica and Kate and I also enjoyed some delicious eats with pizza one night and a burger the next. 
·         -‘Spring’ cleaning with Hortance.  I haven’t gone through my kitchen things (lots that I don’t use from Lorena) in a long time.  Add to that the three months of dust blowing and you’ve got yourself a mess.  Felt good to go through everything, give Hortance things I never touch (she was delighted) and give everything a good clean.
·       -  Rain.  It rained last night- thundered, lightening and POURING for over two hours.  First rain we’ve had since November and boy was it nice!  Has been quite hot lately so it was a very very pleasant reprieve. However, a big rain usually comes before the seasons change..and we all know what’s next.. hot season. March, April and May are gonna be nasty.
·         -Girls club. Very excited about this.  After meetings with Aposto, Sinya (my French tutor and English teacher at the middle school) and a female teacher and village friend who is going to help me with the club, I got the okay from the ‘principal’ and then went to six classrooms (equivalent of 5-7th grades) telling them about the club that will meet once a week after school and will be to encourage the girls to stay in school, build their self confidence, and learn how to set and realize their goals.  I had over 115 girls apply (asked them to answer 4 questions about why they were interested) and I chose 60 that I thought had potential.  This was challenging though as I was reading through the stack, realizing the girls who don’t ‘get it’ are exactly the ones who need the club –but who I wasn’t choosing. Ugh. 

Anyway,  nearly all 60 girls showed up on Thursday afternoon and we did introductions and further explanation of the clubs purpose.  With so many of them I’m afraid I’ll never remember all their names, but in an attempt I had them make name cards (crayons and makers are unheard of – as is drawing in general) and then asked them to tell me their names on the way out afterwards.  Couldn’t believe how many wouldn’t look at me when they spoke.  Self-confidence will be an important session for sure.  So thankful for Mr. Sinya’s support and encouragement of this project.
·        --English club.  This club is taking off.  We are really starting to get the feel for each other, and since they’ve elected officers, they are running the club more on their own! About 20 or so middle schooler’s come every Wednesday afternoon and we just started reading the books that the kids from Iowa donated.  We will soon be writing letters to the kids at YESS in Des Moines as a form of correspondence encouraged by Peace Corps.   This week we used the candy Valentines hearts to open our discussion on “America” –I had quite the time trying to explain phrases like “cutie pie” and “head over heels.”  Finally, knowing I had zero plans on Saturday, I invited some of the kids (who walk me home after club and fetch my water from the well that is a bit from my house) to come watch a movie.  Unfortunately, I don’t have any movies with subtitles, but I translated a bit and they enjoyed Toy Story 3 nonetheless.
·         -Plans to go out w/ ASC’s.  ASC’s are the local community people who serve as health agents to the rest of the village.  They are trained to talk about malaria, tuberculosis, hygiene/sanitation and HIV/AIDS.  They make home visits to encourage people to take preventative action in these areas and they organize larger events (gatherings after church for example) as well.  The NGO here in LT, the one that Aposto is the local director for is in charge of overseeing and training the ASC’s (which total about 100).  I’ve finally made contact – realizing who these people are, and have made plans to make home/church visits with one ASC who also happens to be my electrician!  This is something I’ve been wanting to do for a while so I’m looking forward to it.
·         -Family planning training.  Aposto and I learned about the 4 most common and modern methods of family planning at our training in January.  To turn words into action, we invited Ryan (health PCV in Sokode) to come and train the NGO who can in turn train the ASC’s to include in their messages to the villagers.  Again something I really feel strongly about and am looking forward to in March.
·         -Camp Espoir is the camp that PCV’s run and organize every summer for kids infected or affected by HIV/AIDS.  Each summer 150 Togolese children and 25 PCV’s put on 5 separate weeks of camp that is almost totally funded through donations.  I am one of the co-organizers and we will soon be reaching out to our friends and family to help us make camp possible this summer.
·        - Hanging out with the SED girls in Sokode and Ryan’s Valentines Party.  All but two girls from my SED training group came up to Sokode last weekend and we had a great time just hanging at Rebekah’s and having ‘girl time.’  It was perfect.  Reading through silly magazines, talking about celebrities, boys, life… loved it. The party wasn’t bad either.. Ryan made homemade cookies!
·       -  Repairing my bike.  My back tire has gone flat three times now and finally I got a replacement tube from the PC office in Lome.  I impressed myself and replaced the tube quite quickly this week. That bike is my lifeline, what more motivation do you need?

So, as you can see I’ve got stuff going on and I do feel better having things in place and not having to seek out and create things as much anymore.  It allows me to rest easier (not feel bad about reading for hours on end) and not feel like I should be out saving LT.  I’ve also got a lot of events to look forward to and that’s what’s keeping me going.  As we head into hot season (think winter time in Iowa when you can’t leave your house due to dangerous temperatures, ice and snow ) I’m preparing to just lay and be still for several hours a day so as to not completely melt away.  They say from about 10 am- 4pm you won’t want to move except to pour more water over you. We will see.