Food Security

Last week we had our Mid Service Conference in Pagala.  This was my favorite PC ‘training’ by far; less random surface technical sessions and more realistic things like learning how to incorporate monitoring and evaluation into our work and details about starting a funded project. One of the coolest things I took away from these few but packed days was a session on Food Security, which I thought might be good to share.

The idea of being food secure is not new, but recently it has become a big part of West African PC work.  Being food secure not only means not having enough food but having access to healthy and safe food, year round.  This means not having the income to buy vegetables (if you don’t grow them already) and therefore there is a lack in your diet is being food insecure.  This means even if you have balanced meals but they are prepared in a way that is making your family sick, you are food insecure.  This means if you don’t have potable water to drink you are food insecure. There is definitely a ‘hungry season’ here in Togo and while I didn’t see much of it firsthand as my host family is pretty well off, I did notice the lack of variety in my neighbors and village friends’ sauces.  Additionally, we haven’t had fufu (pounded yams) in months because the yams have run out.  This means my family has eaten pate (mashed corn meal) for the majority of their meals for the past few months with the only change coming in which sauce they prepare.

The PCV Food Security Committee did a great activity at the conference to demonstrate who is food secure in our villages.  We formed a line and a large rock placed about five feet in front of us represented being food secure.  We were given personal scenarios and then the leader read things like: “if you have a university degree take one step forward (towards being food secure),” and “if you have more than four children take one step back (away from being food secure).”   There were about a dozen different scenarios ranging from a man with a degree, wife, and three kids to single mother with a good job but eight children. Others included a teenage girl who just found out she’s pregnant, an employed father with a farm and a wife but with three chronically ill children. Less obvious situations were 14-year-old boy in an average family or the youngest girl in a similar family.  These are important to realize however, as men and boys are served first with the largest portions, with the women and girls (who most likely have prepared the meal) are served smaller portions of what is left.  In other words,  young men, especially those with university degrees were the closest to food security at the end of the activity, while the young girls, single mothers or households with lots of kids found themselves behind.

 

One thing I found so interesting was that I could identify or think of someone or a situation in Lama-Tessi that applied to each of the activity situations. While it was cool to realize how much I understand this place (compared to a year ago), it was extremely disheartening to really stop and realize how the majority of my village is probably food insecure. 

What’s more, I learned about the severe and long term affects of being food insecure.  When a young child lacks adequate nutrition, its body goes into survival mode, improperly storing any food it receives.  In turn, if this child survives and consumes a high carbohydrate diet (most likely in developing countries), the body will continue to improperly store those calories and the person will likely become obese.  Granted, that’s not a scientific explanation, but you get the idea of the severity of this paradox.

I also realized how it impacts the four sectors of PC work here in Togo.  Health and agriculture are the obvious ones but the gender equality and small business development can also play big roles. 

So, what can/are we doing about it? Well, PC Togo is part of the West African Food Security Program in which PCV’s can apply for small funding opportunities to apply techniques in their villages.  Techniques like training farmers how to raise more and better crops by adding different trees that promote nitrogen in the soil.  Or teaching mothers and kids how to dry fruit so that after mango season (when there are so many mangos, kids literally eat at least 10 a day) they will continue to have those vitamins and food variety.  Promoting personal, family gardens so that when the prices of staple tomatoes and onions increases in dry season, you can sustain yourself.  Discussing with groups how to make their drinking water safe and why it’s so important. 

Important things to remember when working in impoverished countries concerning food. First, we can't just bring in food and think this is fixing the problem.  This is making a crutch for the community; sustaining them for a while but not forever. We must take small steps to lay the groundwork, the infrastructure to help them move towards food security.  To that end, we must remember its not just about sacks of flour or grain; food variety and the nutritional value of food is just as important. Lastly we must think culturally. For example, a friend of mine said people in her village won't feed their kids eggs because it will turn their kids into thieves. That is, the kids will like the taste of eggs, and therefore start stealing other peoples eggs (because people don't keep their chickens penned up).  Finally, the culture here says men deserve and need more food; thus women, girls and children get less. 

Lots.of.things. 

 AKA- overwhelming for this PCV.  For now, I’m starting small with my host family.  Encouraging protein consumption and drinking clean water.  I figure, if I can teach/guide/encourage my host mom to think about her meals then slowly, maybe other mothers in our neighborhood will follow. Little by little.

SOS

I ate a big plate of SOS last night.  With fresh green beans.  I closed my eyes and saw my family sitting at our kitchen table on the farm, eating the very same helpings of mashed potatoes and dried beef gravy.  Thank you Linda White for the latest package including dried beef that made this meal possible.

This is a big deal; I’ve been dreaming – in detail – about food for the past few weeks.  One morning this week I woke up after a dream meal of a bologna sandwich.  You know it’s bad when you’re dreaming about cold-deli sandwiches- especially bologna. The meal also had sides of Baked Lays potato chips, strawberry yogurt and sugar cookies. YES I DREAMT ALL OF THESE DETAILS! A few mornings later I woke up only wanting a hot dog (with ketchup), chips and an apple. And a Coke. What?! I don’t drink straight pop, let alone COKE! But oh man, does it taste oh.so.good. And the other day walking down the street in village I was craving my mom’s tortilla pinwheels. I can’t even read about characters in books sharing a meal. The story won’t even be about the meal, but the fact that they’re at a pizza place just unnerves me.

Last night, after arriving in Atakpame (with a store that sells all of the above and a house for PCV’s equipped with a refrigerator and toaster oven) this dream became reality. And let me just tell you how my knees about gave in tasting those Pringles as soon as I had paid for them. Wow.

This morning I had cold milk and cereal. Again, a-may-zing. Indulging  on tasty treats when in Atakpame (Snickers, Swiss cheese, apples- imported from South Africa) is nothing new and I look forward to each upcoming trip; in fact, Vanessa and I will text each other what our ‘priorities’ are for Atakpame. It’s like we just get by in village and then have this weird food binge the minute we get to Atakpame. But this trip I felt more called – more crazy – for good, tasty food. And to this end I must eat my words- (if only they tasted like my Grandma’s rhubarb cobbler) pun intended. It’s not uncommon for volunteers to go off about a food their craving, something they’re missing, or how much they would give/do for a certain meal.  In fact, this is probably one of our most conversation popular topics; food. But, for a long time I just saw food as fuel here. I was getting by on cabbage and lentils for dinner with the occasional treat of popcorn for something crunch and salty. Lately, this hasn’t been doing the trick and I’ve forgone healthier alternatives for straight up Nutella sandwiches. My body wants something indulgent; something it knows.

 We try here. Ness and I attempt pizza or pasta dishes but nothing is quite the same. Take my dear friend Connor, who loves to cook and will be a great chef someday.  My hang-up is the kid loves to turn a simple meal into a 2-3..4 hour ordeal; adding random things, sautéing, roasting… and all of it just takes too much time for this girl.  I realized cooking with Connor is like Thanksgiving; you wait around all day, anticipating the deliciousness but you have to eat something throughout the day, so you graze and snack and when the meal finally comes, you’re not hungry enough to enjoy it to its fullest. I just want some simple home fries; no I don’t need any fresh chopped garlic and onions sautéed first, thank you!  Just give me the Beach Club from Jimmy John’s…or simple slice of Casey’s taco pizza.  I don’t need anything fancy! In fact, I vaguely remember saying to someone last week how I’d be willing to personally dismember my pinky for a meal of JJ’s…

Today is Vanessa’s birthday.  This is where Connor comes in handy as he is determined to make something define. And I’m making him start early so we can hopefully eat before 10pm. Meat (fresh from the scary meat market next to the rail road tracks) is already marinating for a Sheppard’s pie and just whipped up some peanut butter cookies. So, we’re going all out..while we can J  

I Didn't Know

One year ago, I didn’t know how to take a bucket shower, fix a flat bike tire, or eat around and through ants. I didn’t know how to catch, barter a price or deal with bush taxi’s. A year ago, I didn’t speak French (or understand it at least) or know the foreign sounds that make up local, ethnic languages in Africa.  I didn’t know this journey would draw me so much closer to my Creator and show me the intense love and need I have to be close to my family.  I didn’t know how strong a relationship based on love and friendship could become when you date someone who truly has your best interest at heart- even from an ocean away. 

One year ago, I didn’t understand the power of electricity or a cold shower; or a shower in general for that matter. I’d never thought so much or spent so much time on greetings and asking about people’s families and work.   I didn’t have any idea how hard a girl’s life was in a developing country, how childhood is in a way nonexistent and how hope for a better life somehow always remains. I didn’t know how cruel the school system was or how sad the health care.  I’d never eaten or heard of pate or fufu one year ago.  I didn’t have any idea how important and meaningful it is to share a meal or calabash of local beer with someone, or that it’s all about the sauce when I landed here last June.  I didn’t know I could tolerate a 15 hour trip with 4 vehicle changes just to go a hundred miles or so.  A year ago, I didn’t know that I had the ability, knowledge and influence to inspire girls, teach them to believe in themselves and their dreams.  I didn’t know what an African ‘hot season’ felt like or believe I could survive such a thing. I didn’t know how much comfort can come from hours of reading a good book.  Or that I would become a regular member of Sunday Mass at the local Catholic Church out of the comfort of a routine and order.  A year ago I’d never been in the delivery room to watch a baby being born up-close-and-personal.  I didn’t know I would be able to teach grown women the power of saving and budgeting or how to set goals.  

A year ago I didn’t realize every Togolese person had a farm- even if it’s a few rows of corn in the ditch- as a means to survive.  I had never thought so much about the value of hand washing a year ago, and I had no idea how to wash my clothes without a machine.  I didn’t know how much joy and comfort rain would bring me or how real the need becomes for water when the sun blazes for months on end. I had no idea how to drink water or eat lunch out of little plastic bags. I didn’t know I would think about stomach bugs so much or about the issues that come with open water sources. I didn’t know what it felt like to sit with a girl and her parents in their rural village after giving her a loan to run a small business during the summer in an effort to save and pay for her school fees.  I didn’t know school fees for girls were often times the last priority for families.  I’d never been so outspoken and defensive for girls; demanding they give an equal chance and the respect each of us deserves. I didn’t realize how behavior change and development go hand-in-hand.  I had never really thought about behavior change; that it’s more about convincing people to make the desired change than distributing the information. I’d never rationed my fruit and vegetable supply before. Or been so acutely aware of my body; hunger, temperature, emotions and attitudes. I had no idea how passionate I would become about nutrition, family planning, and the health of the kids and families around me. And I didn’t realize that these passions could spark an idea to become a teacher.  

One year ago, I didn’t know how much joy a group of twelve-year-olds trying to speak English could bring me.   I’d never spoke ‘Fran-Glais’- mixing French with English but still struggling to put correct sentences together and get my point across in a foreign language. A year ago, I didn’t loathe the sun and constantly seek shade. I’d never counted the hours in the day, days in the week, weeks in the month, months in the year so much as I have in this year. One year ago from this day, I had no idea I would make such great friendships; friends with Togolese that I can call my family here and in a diverse group of Americans who can only truly feel the words I’m writing.

One year ago I didn’t know how to live in Africa. Despite many moments of heart ache and struggle, now, I know.