Friday, January 20, 2012

America IS beautiful

Wow, was I ever reminded of this recently.  I was fortunate enough to be able to travel home to Iowa for 2 weeks recently and was pleasantly surprised at just how amazing America is.  Second year PCV’s talk about it like it’s heaven and this was quite strange to me in the first months of my service.  But now I understand.  It’s interesting how you begin to accept your surroundings and life here and Togo and forget how truly different the developed world is.

I had a feeling I would feel a bit strange or overwhelmed with my first encounters of the developed world but I had no idea they would be this clear. My first flight was from Ghana to Amsterdam when we landed at 7 am the awareness was at its peak:
-         - Squealing (literally) at the cold air on the jet bridge
-          -In the bathroom:
o   Jumped when the toilet flushed automatically 
o   Washed my hands three times in the hot running water just because I could
o   Noticed the mom changing her young daughter out of her pajamas and into her day clothes. Thought immediately of Togolese children and their change of outfits or lack thereof. (For a while, I related everything to Togo. This went away surprisingly quickly.)
-          -Realized I can drink the water out of the fountains/ there were fountains to drink out of!
-          -Enjoyed the uniquely dressed Europeans
-          -Admired couples showing affection in public (unheard of in Togo)
-          -Even more fascinated at the diversity; cultures and ethnicities
-          -Walked through a book/gift shop and amazed at the amount of things and how shiny everything was.
-          -Excited to see/hear Americans and English
-          -Amazed at how easy the flights has been (smoothly the airports/travel operates)
-          -Noticed how Americans can get a bad reputation for being loud and obnoxious as I stood behind a family of 12 traveling back from a safari in Kenya
-          -At the same time, felt so strange being able to understand everything
-          -Watched intently as the mama in front of me fed her toddler some juice/fruit drink for kids (thought of Togolese mamas feeding their kids fried dough)

If you counted, that was 14 things. Fourteen observations in under an hour.  When I landed in the U.S. with nearly 24-hours of travel under my belt I only had a few more distinct culture shocks; Target, cars, coffee. 

I had forgotten something so Michael and I stopped by Target on our way from the airport.  PCV’s dream of Target but I hadn’t had time to prepare for this coveted experience.  Michael, knowing this might be a tad overwhelming, held my hand tight and quickly directed me to the area we were looking for.  Surprisingly, I made it through the produce section but it was the dishware that got me.  We were passing by the isle where there were three styles of place settings on display and I just paused to take in the beautiful colors, designs, and the incredible way everything matched.  It was so beautiful so simple, made so much sense, and soon I was crying. Michael patiently comforted me and we quickly made our purchase and got out of there. 

I was also acutely aware of vehicles for a while.  Why was there only one person in these giant SUV’s and even in four door sedans? It seemed a bit crazy for only one person to be driving when at least 4 more people could fit (Togo).  Finally, the next morning Michael headed for Starbucks as he knew this was going to be a big moment that I’d waited for.  “Drive through,” he asked? “No way- I want to smell it,” I exclaimed! And man, was it wonderful. My first coffee shop, with its delicious sights and sounds, let alone the amazing coffee itself! Wow – was that wonderful. 

The next two weeks proceeded to go quickly- too quickly but I worked hard to stay present, enjoying each moment.  We visited Michael's family, had a belated Christmas with my family, had some quality sister time with Maddie in Iowa City, enjoying the beautiful campus and cool crisp air.  Michael and I spent a weekend in Des Moines where I scheduled coffee, lunches, dinners and drinks so as to be able to see everyone.  The rest of the time was spent in my hometown where I made a few presentations to Rotary and Kiwanis Clubs and a couple of elementary classrooms about my experience thus far.  Words don’t really do my time in America justice.  Being able to see people from high school, college, and my Des Moines days, time playing cards around my family’s kitchen table, running to the store anytime we thought of something, biking and running in the mild winter temperatures, enjoying all of the food I had put on a ‘to-eat’ list and overall just drinking in every moment of the comfortable life. It was blissful. A very special and big MERCI BEAUCOUP for the amazing people who made this time so meaningful.

All of this wonderful-ness has made the transition back to Togo a bit challenging.  I knew it was going to be really hard missing people and I felt I had tried to mentally prepare myself for this before I left Togo.  What I didn’t prepare for was the adjustment of leaving the conveniences and comforts of the developed world and returning to the way of life in Togo.  Yes, I cried a lot on the return flights.  But they were tears of leaving the people who are very special to me.  I had no idea in the days to come I’d be crying at the challenge and culture shock of re-entering into this life I’ve chosen. 

Knowing I would be struggling this first week back, I arranged to come stay with Vanessa in her village.  Thank God for this angel in my life.  Patient, calm, tolerant, laid-back, Vanessa is in a lot ways- everything I’m not.  She has listened patiently as I vent about the frustrations and backwardness of Togo. She hugs me when I cry and miss Michael and my family.  She smiles as we sweat like pigs walking through her village, gathering things for lunch.  She grins and bears it when her running water stops running or when packs of children scream ‘yovo’ (white person) wherever we go.  She reminds me of the beautiful and nice things about Togo as I gripe and complain about how backwards things work here. I know this is in part because of her wonderful, nature and spirit but it’s also because she hasn’t left, hasn’t been reminded of the other way of living.  I was blessed to be able to enjoy a few weeks in the comfort of the US and now I feel like I’m paying for it a little bit.  I’m readjusting… slowly.

One last situation and then I’ll get out of the pity pool. There is a second year PCV here in Badou who I really admire and look up to.  She has been here a year and a half and is a model volunteer in my mind – what’s more, she has a great attitude about her life and work here.  Before she left for vacation (she too visited the States), she had gone through all the procedures to establish a girls club at the middle school.  Tuesday was her first meeting and I was very excited to watch and learn from this seasoned volunteer.  In my mind, the meeting went horribly.  Terrible.  But you’d never know it by the look on the face of the PCV and the enduring spirit and energy she gave throughout the entire thing.  The girls showed up 30, 60, even 90 minutes late.  Girls showed up who were not in the group and she had to go through the attendance list over and over. Kids played loudly right outside the door so she was forced to yell to be heard to the group of 30.  When she finally got to the lesson 90 minutes from the start time of the meeting, she was met with blank stares.  Introducing a brand new concept (goal setting) to this group of young teens was like speaking to a brick wall.  Thankfully, one of the PCV’s counterparts and a teacher at the school was there and he helped her when the girls weren’t picking up her French (which is good) or understanding her examples.  AHHHHH I’m thinking! This PCV followed all the procedures to make sure this would work, was well prepared with handouts and visual aids, yet it was still a struggle. But, she took it all in stride and left the meeting able to smile and chuckle about what had happened.

Lesson: Even after a year-and-a-half of work in her village, Togo is still Togo.  But it’s me who must change.  I, as the PCV, must adapt, change, adjust my standards, my expectations, my frustration meter.  I must remember the pace of life in Togo. I must remember that only a small, motivated few are going to understand, receive your message and be willing to work with you. Remember that half of your day could be spent searching for the office to pay your water bill (out in the boonies in Badou with only one sign to point you in the general direction). 

Deep breaths and run time.  And prayer. Lots of prayer and seeking the little blessings God's planted along my path reassuring of me of my purpose here, back in Togo.