Joyeux Noel - one for the books.

Joyeux Noel – Merry Christmas! As my friend Vanessa says, “one for the books.”

My first Christmas away from home and without freezing temperatures and snow fared pretty well.  Vanessa and I are together at the PCV house/workstation in Atakpame which is about 4 hours south of LT.  The house has all the coveted amenities: running water, refrigerator, toaster oven, shelves of old movies and books from past PCV’s.  Best of all – it’s just me and Ness here. So it was a quiet, mellow lazy day. 

I was planning to take the day off from running but after the call to prayer from the nearby mosque went on for an extra thirty minutes at 5 am this morning, I decided to go for a quick out and back around Atakpame.  In the States I usually try and run on Christmas morning; sneaking out after we open stockings and while my family is getting ready to go to my grandma’s house.  I smiled, stepping out into the dawn of a new day in Togo, thinking about how different this Christmas run will be.

As I stepped out onto the road, I thought about the change in scenery; flat, open, snow-covered Iowa fields traded in this Christmas for the rocky hills of this “city” in Togo.  Freezing temperatures and snow piles for humidity and palm trees.  Avoiding wandering goats instead of dangerous icy spots. Breathing in burning trash and diesel exhaust rather than cool, crisp, clean Iowa air.  Enjoying the contrast of elevation from Iowa as I manage my way up the steep hills of the Atakpame coast on the descent.    

Some things stay the same though, I thought to myself. I passed people freshly showered (good smells are a rare luxury here) and on their way to Christmas Mass.  People donned in puffy coats and stocking hats as they zipped by on their motorcycles–it’s cold here right now you know (77 ˚F to be exact).  And knowing I was going back to a hot cup of real coffee (thank you Rachel Kennedy) made me smile realizing we’re all not that different. Interesting too how the day seemed to go on like just another day. The song that talks about no snow down in Africa -with the chorus “Do they Know it’s Christmastime at all” popped into my head as truck drivers loaded up their semi’s, mama’s carried huge basins of water from the local pump to their homes on their heads, and as people stood outside their doors, cleaning their teeth with wooden sticks.  I guess, I thought to myself, things like this go on in the States too – people not recognizing the special day, but being in Togo has made incredibly more aware of the differences – and similarities, an aspect I really value in this experience.  

As if on cue, Togo brought me out of my dreamy like state and back into the real world as my host dad called me- not to wish me a Merry Christmas- but to ask again if I could buy him a computer when I’m in the States.  A running joke (sort of) with Togolese— we are always suppose to bring them things.  (For example: I told one guy I would bring him back a wife.)

Ness and I made pancakes for breakfast and it was just like home as she was itching to open the package my mom had sent and clearly labeled, “do not open before Christmas.”  We slowly pulled out the chocolate treats one by one.  We found "A Christmas Carol" among the stacks of DVD’s and we popped that in and enjoyed our mini candy bars-tastes of home. The night before we had made some Christmas crafts, watched "It’s a Wonderful Life" and enjoyed a pizza with real cheese (stores here carry Swiss!). 

We continued our craft making and planned our Christmas dinner. Ness made a traditional dish with plantains and meat.  I crafted my first pie crust and somehow our apple pie disappeared quickly (it was small).  A package of stuffing and a nice bottle of wine rounded out our Christmas dinner. It was simple and sweet.  Trying to go three-for-three with the holiday movies we popped in “Noel” which you’ve probably never heard of because it was that bad! 

A simple day, Ness and I talked about the simple things we have really come to appreciate over dinner. Our health, time with our families, the power of a shower were at the top of the list.   The discussion continued on what we’ve learned as far as ‘development’ goes and the similarities and contrasts of Togo.  As we marveled that 2011 is coming to a close I asked her what are the top three lessons she’s learned – or how she has grown this year.  The top of my list: learning how to really listen and the value in that, growing tolerance with a place that can be so backwards and with myself in changing and adapting with the  work here and my performance/success, awareness of myself -my body and health- and my surroundings, and my appreciativeness of the simple things.

A truly Joyeux Noel! Part of my story and one for the books…

A busy week of highs and lows.

They say this experience is one of extremes: days of high highs and days with low lows..this week proved such in some special moments and some indeed testing moments. 

Highs:

A productive day on Sunday (12-18-11): Church, laundry, enjoyed my homemade tomato soup, prepared and executed a basic lesson on nutrition for the group of women who meet on Sunday afternoons that went decently well. I explained that three meals of starches (rice for breakfast, yams for lunch, and pate – corn flour- for dinner—a normal day’s meals for most people) was not a healthy, balanced diet and that they should try incorporating at least one source of protein a day (eggs, tofu, meat, beans, fish – it all exists here, but some consider it expensive) and one fruit or vegetable. I attempted to lead a matching game where they drew cards with different items on them and they had to discern if it was a balanced meal or not. For example: drawing a tomato card and a yam card would be ‘good’ whereas a yam and a rice card were not ‘good.’ Simple concept obviously and I think they got it, but will any of them make any changes? At least now I can remind them when I see them around… they’ve been informed so now I’m on the lookout! 

I spent a few hours at my French tutor’s house that night translating a quick story I had written to French for Wednesday’s English Club. It was a pretty cool moment as one of his nephew’s (I’ve come to discover none of the kids are his, just living with him for the school year) who is about 12 and I sat there and translated into French. Not only could he read my scribbly handwriting but he understood the majority of the story! One of those sit back and smile, ‘this is PC’ moments.

Monday: two more nutrition discussions and English at the Middle school.

Tuesday: Biking to Sokode to retrieve the two packages from my sweet friends, Rachel and Legs (Katie). THANK YOU LADIES. I felt so special!  

Wednesday was another high point as I made my way to Blitta, a town off the main road about an hour south of LT.  Ryan and I were meeting PCVL Ben at his house to discuss Camp Espoir (the camp for kids affected or effected by HIV/AIDS).  Along with my other good friend Connor, the three of us will be assistants to Ben in planning and executing the 5 week event this summer. I caught a car heading south, filled with young college students heading back to Lome.  It’s always to be surrounded by educated young people, especially when they know Peace Corps and are respectful.  Coffee in hand, I smiled and had a ‘oh, this is a pretty cool experience’ moment. I text Vanessa that too—have to make the deposit in the ‘good stuff’ account for later in the week when I was cursing this pace!  The taxi motorcycle to Ben’s house was so nice too as the mornings here are cool and crisp and smelled and looked like fall. 

We then proceeded to have a very successful meeting discussing the planning and preparation stages for the next 5months including lots of idea sharing (Ryan is creative), explaining (Ben is the Espoir expert) and organizing (my list-crazy, OCD brain finally coming into use here!).  Color coded timelines, weekly objectives outlines and responsibility lists and I was a content girl!  The excitement and familiarity for planning and executing a big event (thank you YESS Duck Derby) overrode any anxiety about the amount of work ahead of us.

That afternoon I had my third English Club meeting and we read the story I had translated earlier in the week. Each kid was handed a new vocabulary word they had to listen for in the story, then write them on the board when they heard it.  This gave each of them a little responsibility and importance as we practiced definitions and pronunciations.

Friday and Saturday also fell into the ‘high’ category.  As Connor came up with a counterpart who wanted to learn to Batik with Aposto.  It was a relaxing day;  I made a few things and ate a whole plate full of fufu with my favorite sauce (peanut/tomato with cabbage and wagash- local fried cheese) that Nima made.  Melissa, a new PCV who lives south of me also came up to stay for the night.  While we were too full on fufu to make dinner, it made for a killer run Saturday morning.  We made delicious scrambled eggs and cinnamon/vanilla pancakes for breakfast and then they headed out and I packed up for my trip up to Bafilo. 

Lydia a fellow SED PCV lives about 90 min north of me in Bafilo and I hadn’t been there yet and I have lots of Velveeta to use (thank you mom and Karen Mason) so I headed up to have a Mexican themed dinner.  Bafilo is up in the mountainous part of the country and it was pretty walking around and meeting some of the people she works with.  Dinner was awesome as we made salsa, guacamole, beans, tortillas and cheese dip. 

If you’ll notice, I left out Thursday and Sunday from the ‘good’ list. Two days (which both had good endings) isn’t bad I guess.  Thursday’s debacle involved my window.  I was planning to spend the day videoing my host sister, Jamala for a ‘day-in-the-life-of-a-10-year-old’ but since the teachers are still striking in this part of the country there wasn’t any school.  It worked out as the night before my carpenter called and said my window was done (finally).  I was ready for him to come install it in my bedroom early Thursday morning. When he didn’t show up after two hours I called and he said he couldn’t find the mason (who would be the one actually putting a hole in my bedroom).  Fine, I said, I’ll find him. So I went straight to his house and asked if he was free. Seeing that he was I called the carpenter and let the two discuss. They said they would come ‘bientot’ (soon). I went home and waited some more.  Two more hours passed. Called the carpenter again and let my host mother talk to him this time.  He was busy at his shop and couldn’t find anyone to bring over the window. Okay, fine, I said, I’ll go get the window.  I make the 5 min walk across the road, pick up the window, keeping my frustrated thoughts to myself, thank him for his work , pass by the mason’s house, show him the window and say, ‘let’s go’.  By this time it’s 1pm and I’ve resigned to the fact that this will be a day-long process. Fortunately, the mason arrives quickly, and does a great job with the window.  I read the PC Lifeskills manual (for a girls club I’m hoping to start) and try not to think about the giant mess and hole he was creating in my bedroom.  After  few hours the work is finished and he cleaned up the mess; I was content.  The best part was when I asked him how much he smiled shyly and said, ‘no it’s a gift.’ I think he had picked up my frustration in dealing with the carpenter. No, I insisted, this is your job.  Grateful for his humbleness, good work and timeliness, I gave him a little extra and wished him a Merry Christmas. A long bike ride and lifting session as in store to finish out the afternoon and rid myself of any tension left from the morning!

Sunday, morning was wonderful as I enjoyed instant Starbucks coffee on Lydia’s roof, watching the sun come up over the surrounding hills, the afternoon took a nose dive as we headed to a small village close to Bafilo for an event that we were told was going to be about HIV/AIDS.  Starting two hours late (standard) the entire village had gathered (including about 20 important, toothless, illiterate and French-less, old men –the village chief’s) and it made for a perfect setting to discuss the reality of this pandemic, how to prevent it, explain treatment and living with infected.  Instead, the organizers spent the three hours skirting around the issue, stressing the importance of national identity cards, showing a variety of skits (in strange Togolese humor) and poems by the local ‘AIDS club’ kids- all in local language.  Finally when the director of the medical services spoke, he mentioned HIV/AIDS ONCE.  And that was the ‘HIV/AIDS’ portion of the event.  Lots of ‘prizes’ were handed out—have to give presents here, you know and then they wanted us to stay to have ‘refreshments’ with the chiefs afterwards. I was about ready to scream.  An hour later, holding back our super irritated and real thoughts on the event, we choked down the Coke they bought for everyone (great use of money) and finally got out of there.  I was able to collect my frustration on the moto ride back to Bafilo.  Sadly, I think this is how a lot of ‘events’ meant to educate happen in Togo.  The NGO that organized the event said that people won’t come if you tell them it’s going to be about HIV/AIDS (for many, they are just beginning to accept that it exists here) and you can’t talk about how to prevent it (condoms) with men and women present. Did I mention we were in an all Muslim village?  I knew these thoughts to be false from the events Aposto and the NGO in LT have conducted. They proudly display pictures showing condom demonstrations with huge groups of people and skits actually about the disease.

As I was leaving Lydia’s house in Bafilo, I closed my eyes, took a very deep breath and prayed God would ease my frustration, calm my upset stomach, and help me get back to LT (traveling on Sunday afternoons is risky as not many cars are running up and down the country) without too many travel headaches.  I felt lighter right away and made it home in a timely fashion.  Glad the day was over!

Now, this is my final week in LT until February.  I’ve got work to do for Espoir, lots of manual reading and lesson planning for when I return to village.  Hoping to spend tomorrow capturing Jamala’s day and visit a new PCV who  is close to me on Wednesday.  Thursday will be packing and preparing my house to leave and Friday I will head to Atakpame to join Vanessa for Christmas! 

While it doesn’t feel like the holidays here, I’m thinking about my friends and family lots as you prepare for the celebration this weekend. I wish you all a safe and very joyous holiday, praying you remember the reason we celebrate! 

Lome....Encore

It’s Sunday again. I’ve got homemade tomato soup simmering on the stove and I’m recovering from Lome…again. It was an interesting week indeed:

Monday I began the morning by discussing the importance of using soap each time you wash your hands to my host mom’s groupement. I used charcoal to represent ‘germs’ and to demonstrate that only using water to wash (common standard here) after using the bathroom, leaves the germs on your hands. They nodded in understanding (I hope) as I poured water over the woman I designated to use soap as the charcoal clearly washed off. I tried to stress that the germs will enter your stomach when you eat if you don’t use soap and then you will get sick and that this lesson is particularly important for children. My mom helped translate from Koti-Koli to French and while I have my doubts that any of them actually went home and insisted everyone use soap, I feel better at least knowing the information.
Mid-morning I went to the school to visit my French tutor’s English classes. What I found was absent teachers and classrooms full of rowdy, bored kids. Thankfully Mr. Sinya was there and explained the nationwide teacher strike going on. “We want better conditions, so we are not working today or tomorrow,” he said. Sadly, they weren’t explaining it to the kids but were expecting them to sit in their classrooms. I stood there trying to decide if I should try something with no lesson planned and having no supplies. After about 30 minutes of trying to explain a spelling game with one 7th grade class, I gave up and tried to go home. The 8th grade class next door insisted I come and help them with their English. Not having any materials (the class and I), we tried having question and answer time and then I helped them a bit with some of their homework. A struggle though as I realized I’m not even close to being fluent enough in French to explain why English is the way it is. Frustrated and exhausted I hid at home the rest of the afternoon until it cooled off enough to go for a run.

Tuesday morning I went for a bike ride after a strong cup of coffee and finished it off with a lifting session (thank you Lorena for leaving the sand packed liter bottles). The PC car heading down country to Lome (known as the Lome Limo—no it’s not an actual limo, but a clean, air conditioned van—so in Togo and PCV standards- pretty close to a limo!) picked me up on the road (about a 5 min walk from my house) and off we went. While it’s nice to be with friends, have the AC, not be smashed in with smelly Togolese, the trip is still long (7 hours) and bumpy/uncomfortable. Arriving in Lome, I was quickly reminded how hot and humid it remains and I began to sweat instantly. I downed an amazing hamburger at the hotel I would be staying at for the week. It was just what I needed and I was off to bed. (Side note: this hotel –where most PCV’s stay when in Lome- is nasty and more like a hostel with a community toilet for the upstairs rooms, soggy beds with who-knows-what’s-on-them sheets, and dampness. I lay as still as possible, trying to avoid thinking about the bed too much or moving as it’s so hot. Gross. But, they have wireless , a decent restaurant, within our budget range, and it’s close to the PC office, so we keep going back.) 

We were up early Wednesday morning (unable to really sleep past 6 am anyway) to head to the PC office as I signed up to work the PC booth at the West African Trade Show, being held in Lome this year. We (my friends Abby and Emily) stopped for egg sandwiches and café au lait’s (more like sweetened condensed milk with a dash of coffee) at a little café on the way. The PC transported us across town to the Fair which ended up looking like a State Fair with 4 or 5 big warehouses filled with various artisans and companies from all over West Africa. Yes it’s the show for ALL of West Africa, but NO it’s not air conditioned and thus we were soaked in sweat by 9 am. Myself, a few other PCV’s and a few PC staff sat at the booth, explaining PC and its mission mainly to the large groups of elementary and middle school aged kids who were there on field trips. These were all private school and wow are there a lot in Lome! PC also invited some of the artisans PCV’s work with to sell their products and luckily Aposto arrived mid-morning and took over entertaining and leading the PC information with the kids. I grabbed fufu from the Fair as we headed back to the office.

Being in Lome is stressful: you want to “relax” and enjoy your friends, the freedom and the food the city offers. At the same time, there are usually a lot of PCV’s in town and thus there is work and meetings and business to discuss and things to get done. Meanwhile, it’s hot, humid, sandy (all but a few roads in Lome are sand), and takes a while to walk/get a car to the various places. To add to that, I was hoping to see my family and Michael via Skype as the PC office is the only place in country with a strong enough Internet signal. I was able to knock some things off my PC to-do list and then my friend Lucian and I headed out for gelato. Hailing a taxi, negotiating the price, and working our way across town was worth it as I slowly indulged in some black cherry creamy goodness. We walked to the beach (only a few blocks away) and enjoyed our sweet treat, talking about how quickly 6 months has passed and Lucians return home as he was leaving the following day. (Side note: the beach is not a beautiful, well-manicured place. Outside of the crashing waves that I love, there is garbage and people using the beach as their bathroom. We found a clean spot to rest and enjoy the water. Egg rolls for dinner from the Vietnamese restaurant not far from our hotel and Tylenol PM to fall asleep in the heat.


More of the same Thursday and Friday. Worked the Trade Show both mornings, but Thursday afternoon after some impromptu meetings for projects, my friend Kate and I headed to the pool. What a difference a little peace, quiet and lap swimming does for the soul. The sun was setting as we walked out of the fancy hotel and I was so relaxed I could barely remember which way we were going! It was so nice. The evening got even better as Skype worked and I got to see my parents in our home for the first time in 6 months. They looked great and mom showed me all around the house with the Christmas decorations and the SNOW outside! I was so excited. More egg rolls for dinner, but sleep aids weren’t necessary after the pool workout!

Friday morning I got up early to Skype with Michael which was wonderful but made for a very long day! I napped that afternoon after enjoying my first cold cereal and milk in 6 months (bought it in a shop near the office) and because I was alone in the office was able to get Skype to work again and got to see my Grandma , talk with the kids at my mom’s school, kids from Pleasant View in Webster City and my sister. The kids asked great questions and seeing my sissy made me very happy. Can’t wait to see you all in the flesh in just a few weeks!

Saturday morning was early as we loaded up the Lome Limo and headed up country for long, bumpy ride. Coming home back to LT is always welcomed – to be comfortable and clean and in my own house- but I still struggle with a bit of sadness/loneliness after being around so many friends. Luckily the people were excited to see me, shouting hello and welcome when I made my way to the weekly market. And what a difference in temperature! Wow, about 200 miles up country to LT and the air is lighter and cooler and I’m not sweating! Amazing! While I did wake up to a hazy covered sky (the dust is thick), I’m thankful for the lack of humidity and being able to function comfortably and dry again!

Big week ahead with meetings for Camp Espoir beginning, organizing the MAC surveys, batiking some Christmas gifts with Aposto, leading some small nutrition lessons with my women’s groups and the usual English classes at the Middle School.

And I considered nursing school..

11/30/11
Have some water with your ants.
Everywhere you turn they are there.  An no I'm not just a bad housekeeper.  As we near dry season they are searching for water and they are pretty talented at finding it.  Leave a few drops in your pot from the morning's coffee- they will be there. You cant see them or where they're coming but they appear- EVERYWHERE. I've taped my any slight opening in my water filter, topped my pots with heavy rocks on top of the lids, I've sprayed lots of toxic chemicals (outside) but still nothing works.  Give them credit for their tenacity -but c'mon! Tonight they made into the pot of soup I made at lunch..and I'm too tired to  sift them out or make something else. They blend in nicely with the spices...gross, but I boiled it -and what's a little extra protein right?


I've had some pretty cool experiences this week and it's only Wednesday.  Monday and Tuesday morning I spent at the middle school which sits about a stones throw behind my house.  My French tutor, Mr. Sinya, teaches the equivalent of 7th and 8th grade English.  Each class has at least 100 students - the majority being boys as many girls have already dropped out or gotten pregnant.  I counted about 20 girls from each class. I was impressed with their comprehension and ability to read the text that they must photo copy from the teacher (of which most of them haven't).  Excited to have a native speaker, Sinya kind of let me take over the class as they stood and read the text while I corrected their pronunciation along the way.  Making a list of words they struggle with, we practiced saying them aloud before the period ended.  While I really enjoy teaching, it's exhausting keeping 100+  kids ranging from 12-18 years old quiet long enough for someone to read aloud.  When I realized the majority of the boys (who are also older) did not have the text and were the noisiest, I called on one and made him come to the front to read. The look on his face told me he might not be able to read and I had a moment of panic.  But, he could read just fine and it set an example to the rest of the class who behaved much better after that.  Seeing the girls become fewer and fewer as they got to the the higher class level, made me really want to connect and encourage them.  The only trouble is finding a time to meet/gather them.  School is already a stretch as girls are the ones who work around the house. If a girl is still in school by 7th or 8th grade it means her parents don't force her to stay home and work, the family has the money to send her, and she hasn't gotten pregnant.  Tough chicks.  I'm hoping for a way to reach them.


MAC (malaria/mosquito net survey) this week took me to a late morning meeting Monday where a Muslim woman Lorena introduced me to summon ten of her neighbors so we could complete the malaria/bed net check survey.  Her leadership and the way they listen to her is pretty incredible.  The women just came out of the woodwork.  None of them spoke French, so there I was surrounded by a dozen or so Muslim women- old and young, babies and wide-eyed, dirty, half naked little kids and the leader calling out questions in local language and then turning to me to translate into French. Pretty cool and another of those "Peace Corps" moments.


Tuesday afternoon's MAC activities led me to the other side of town to survey the Christians with a woman who is the president of her groupement and whom I met at church.  These woman leaders- who speak French- are essential to connecting with the rest of the people.  We walked to 19 different houses that afternoon; asking each home if they had mosquito nets and if they used them.  I saw some of the poorest homes (mud huts with thatched roofs) as we were literally out in the bush.  Houses and areas of town I never knew existed. What's more- as the daily break in the day was finishing, kids came out of the woodwork, dressed in their khaki uniforms, headed back to school.  Walking to and from twice a day, some of these kids probably cover several miles.  Most households we met with were headed by women or and older group of women.  Still amazes me how welcoming and friendly they are and open to my questioning.  Again, my guide translated the questions and I was surprised at how many homes had nets.  Surrounded by prairie grass (or something like it?) and 10 ft tall sorghum I smiled and reminded myself that -'oh ya, I'm in Africa!'


Wednesday afternoon is English club as there is no school in the afternoons (as many families need their kids to work in the fields).  Totally making up lesson plans on my own, today's activities included lots of directions (numbering off, forming teams) which these kids have never heard before --in French, let alone in English.  Sinya was there to help and I have to say it was pretty cool to watch them figure it out.  They are smart and creative, just need the chance to show it.  We reviewed 'if you're happy and you know it' and now they can sing it on their own.  Then we talked about animals and I had them pair up with one person writing the word and one drawing it. This alone took several minutes: 1. I used paper from last week-and they insisted that everyone find their paper they wrote on, 2.explaining that yes, I want you to draw the animal and 3. numbering off and finding their partners.  I just sat back, smiled and thought, 'they are going to get good at this by the end of the year!'  We formed teams and played a form of charades-- a new concept too.  They are quite competitive and while I'm not sure how much English was learned I was pleased to watch them laugh and smile and work as a team to guess the animal. A very rewarding afternoon indeed.


12/4/11
Thursday I headed to Sokode as I was out of vegetables and it was my first free day to get away.  The power has been out in LT (and throughout the country) for the past few days, but thankfully it was back in Sokode so I organized my malaria/mosquito net findings at the PCV workstation.


Friday I entered a whole new world.  Was biking from my house to the hospital for the weekly baby weighing when I came upon a mama I recognized with twins.  I left my bike at Aposto's (about halfway in between) and walked with her, taking one of the babies.  We got quite the looks on the road as I carried one in my arms and she had one on her back; the people thought it was so funny and joked that the little boy was mine.  Sadly, my arms ached when we arrived at the hospital; babies are heavier than you think! We arrived to a hallway filled with mamas and their babies.  For the first time, I had the courage to sit down next to one who was there because her 4-year-old son was refusing to eat. I asked the mama how many other kids she had (4 others) and if this one (her youngest) would be the last one. She responded, that it's up to her husband. I smile and insist that 5 is a lot and that she can decide too; it's your body right-- I say. She just smiles shyly.  When she meets with the nurse I insist that she and her family wash their hands with soap and water before they eat (the little boy most likely has a parasite from sticking his dirty hands in his mouth).


I spot a teacher from the middle school and discover his daughter was just born last night. When I go to see the mother and baby I recognize the girl who I know to be only 21 and hope and pray that she wasn't his student who has now dropped out. (Sadly, this is very common here; teachers sleeping with their female students).  I so badly want to be happy for her and them, the young mother seems happy, but part of me is so sad for the struggle that awaits them. Lea, the nurse practitioner (and the main one managing the circus) bounces to give a young boy a shot and I tag along holding down his legs as he squirms. Mama's and babies wait in the hall and Lea goes to pull the vaccination charts of the ones who have arrived today.  I've caught onto her system now after watching a few times and I insist that she go attend to the others who are ready and I will organize and search for the remaining files.  She looks at me with relief and runs off to continue the weighing.  Finally, I think, I'm able to be useful! When she returns we talk about how young the girls are who have given birth this week; 20, 21 I say? She looks at me and smiles and replies 'yes, but also as young as 12 and 13.' She asks if its like that where I'm from. I say not usually and she is surprised that I don't have any children. ' When,' she asks. Not until after I'm married and have a good job I respond.  She smiles and says, 'that's good, it's not like that here though.'  I tell her my mom taught me that a long time ago, to which she responds, 'she's smart.' Ah, the simple things you take for granted in America.


And then, as I'm already satisfied with how the morning is going, I step into the hall where the nurse is talking to the mothers about family planning (I'm praying it reached and sunk in with at least one of them), a very pregnant mama walks in who looks like she's about ready to pass out.... or give birth.  Lea rushes the woman into one of two exam rooms and gets on a table (laying on the cloth she brought herself).  Lea washes up and I help her get her apron and shoulder length gloves on. Holy cow, I say to myself, this is really happening.


Freaking out inside, I try to control my energy as I realize I'm about to witness my first birth.  I put gloves on (I don't know what to expect!) and try not to make too many faces of pain and discomfort as I watch the mama push while Lea tugs on the head.  Lea laughs as I gasp at the first sign of the head.  She shuffles between pushing on the mom's uterus and working the head out.  I stand there frozen in shock and awe. The baby girl comes out and the cord is around her neck. Lea moves quickly to put her on the mom's stomach and instructs me to  grab the one tray of utensils which holds three pairs of scissors.  She sucks the mucus out of her nose and mouth, clamps the cord and at last the little girl cries.  Lea smiles, places the baby in the same utensil tray (now empty), cover's her with a cloth and attends to the mother.  I'm still frozen but trying to shake it off and make sure the newborn doesn't slide off the table.  I break off a tiny bottle of something for Lea and she loads it into a syringe to give the mother.  As she finishes cleaning her up, I feel nauseous and run out of the room.  Nothing came of it, but I shake my head wondering how I ever even considered nursing school.  I hold the little girl who is now swaddled in more cloth that the mother brought and we walk mother (who is only 20 by the way) and baby (her second) across the hall to the room where patients rest.  I come out with the baby and the hallway erupts in applause. I hope they're not clapping for me; Lea deserves the praise. I sit down exhausted, Lea runs off to continue weighing and vaccinating. She looks at me and smiles, "this is how it is here," she says.


Still not feeling well Friday afternoon, I rested Saturday at home taking the day for myself reading and relaxing.  This morning I went to church and after being alone all day Saturday, I realized another reason why I love church so much as it's because I feel so loved and a part of their family.  The second candle of the Advent 'wreath' was lit and the priest asked us how we were preparing our hearts for Christmas.  That was the gist of what I caught (my French is coming along slooowly), but it was good as I've sort of forgotten it's the Christmas season.  Vanessa and  I were talking about how it's funny that it really doesn't feel like the holidays; no one's out buying gifts, the weather isn't changing (except the wonderful winds of Harmattan), life is going on as normal in our villages.  I've had very sweet packages filled with decorations for my home and my little tree is up; my friends and I will do our best to celebrate together in a few weeks.

Hello Harmattan!

Harmattan season is upon us --and I'm loving it! This is the few months when the strong desert winds from the north blow down and cool everything down. While everything is very dusty and people complain of sneezing attacks and very dry skin, I LOVE BEING COLD! Barely sweat on this morning's run and giggled with delight as I was FREEZING in the shower afterwards! Truly never thought I'd be cold here...or enjoy being cold so much!
Where did the last two weeks go? Time is really flying. And I can't believe it will be December tomorrow!
Two weeks ago (11/16)I went to the capital city of Lome for the annual artisan trade show, organized by fellow SED PCV's.  About 30 artisans from around the country , including my counterpart Aposto, came for the 4 day exposition where they were able to network with other artisans, showcase their products, (it was their first time to Lome for some of them), and were able to profit from the exposure.  A bunch of PCV's got a ride in a PC van Wednesday afternoon which made the 7 hour journey a bit more bareable. Because I was to present a topic on professional communication with the artisans Thursday morning, one of the event organizers arranged for some of us to stay with fellow American's who worked at the US Embassy. Thus, Wednesday night, I stayed in "America."

There are a few gated communities in Lome where the wealthy (ex-patriots, government and embassy workers) live.  We arrived late Wednesday night but when the taxi dropped us off and the security guard to our host's home greeted us, we knew we were in for a treat. Luckily our host was a former PCV who had also served in Africa, so he didn't mind and understood our 'ooh-ing and ahh-ing' over everything from the manicured lawn, marble and carpeted floors, American style furniture and of course the air conditioning and HOT running water. Wow. It was amazing. It was so clean and put together, I didn't realize I had forgotten just how great American homes feel.  We felt so dirty and awkward when he invited us to sit on the soft, beautiful furniture but we obliged and spent the next hour or so discussing PC, Togo and it's oddities, and how you come to appreciate life in the States so much more from this experience. One by one we excused ourselves to enjoy a hot shower in the western-style bathroom.  It was my first hot water shower since I left in June.  I stepped in and just stood there for a minute, trying to mentally prepare myself for what I was about to experience. This may seem silly to you, but after 6 months of cold bucket showers (and getting very excited when the random chance of running water was available) I really was dumbfounded. I squealed with delight and turned the nozzle to as hot as I could stand it.  What I think was even better was feeling REALLY clean afterwards; I didn't collect sand all over my feet walking back from the shower, and I didn't start sweating right away either.  I was so excited I called Michael but I didn't even have words to describe how amazing it had been.  We slept in soft, clean beds that night in a COLD air-conditioned room. Walking through the neighborhood the next morning on our way to the trade show, I sipped my freshly brewed Dunkin Donuts coffee (Lorena left me a to-go mug) and marveled at the yards and homes; it looked like a picture out of a magazine! Of course we were bummed we couldn't stay longer, another night --or forever :) - but so thankful for that tiny taste of home.
It's really hot in Lome. So hot and even more humid, that even the Togolese are dripping in sweat by 9am. And with most of the streets made of ankle deep sand, you just have to get used to feeling sweaty, dirty and gross all day. I helped Aposto set up his table and stand, beautifully displaying his handmade cloth, tshirts, bags and other things. I was so proud of him as his display was quite impressive and professional.  What's more, he is such an outgoing, friendly guy that all of the volunteers in town for the event and for the swearing-in of the new group of volunteers, know him and stopped by to say hi, order and buy things. By the end of the week he was known by all of the other artisans as he went around gathering and organizing everyone's contact information.  He was so proud to tell me that now he has friends all over Togo and has places to stay when he travels ( a big deal when the only road in the country is truly terrible and exhausting).
The days passed quickly; Vanessa and I presented our topic Thursday afternoon, we danced that night and had a great time at the swear-in party, I ventured across town to the Ghanian Embassy a few times for a Visa , helped Aposto sell at the show, surveyed clients for his business, and enjoyed time with my closest friends.  A couple of high points were visiting my friend Lucian's home in Agbodrafo which is about an hour east of Lome and right on the ocean, attempting to play soccer with PC staff at an event organized to celebrate volunteerism at the University of Lome, seeing Michael's face as we got to video Skype for the first time thanks to the PC office's wi-fi, and enjoying the rooftop pool (I splurged and treated myself) overlooking the ocean.
We tried not to spend too much money but when in Lome surrounded by food only found there (pizza and good wine, Vietnemese, Lebanese, etc) it's tough not to take advantage of the opportunity. Like my friend Connor said though, money literally disappears in Lome. We are used to spending 100-200 CFA (about 25 cents) on a meal in our villages and then to go and spend 4-5mille (about 8-10 dollars) on a pizza and glass of wine is troubling, but necessary I think. We had pizza one night and Vietnamese for a few meals -Aposto had his first egg roll last weekend and loved it!

Monday afternoon we took a taxi to the bus station which is an insane mess. Packed with people, old vans being loaded and piled high with goods and people. Even with having reserved tickets for this bus, we still had to wait over an hour to leave. Not only did the bus not have air conditioning like we had thought, but it only had small windows for ventilation and I just about lost it, I was so hot. We were destined to arrive into Sokode at midnight, but when we popped a tire about 45 minutes outside Lome I knew it was going to be a long night. Luckily there was a bar nearby.  Tuesday was a bit of a blur as you can imagine with only having a few hours of sleep after getting in at 1 that morning. I made it back to LT that night and collapsed.  Wednesday I collected data for the malaria campaign PC is working on at the hospital and clinic in LT and that afternoon I held my first English Club at the middle school.  I was very nervous that too many kids for me to handle would show up and it would be out of control, but it went surprisingly well.  About 35 kids came and we played a couple games, I taught them "If You're Happy And You Know It," we made the Club rules and I had them write down their names and what they would like to learn.
Thursday was Thanksgiving although it didn't really feel like it that morning as I surveyed my neighborhood with my host mom for the malaria campaign.  Headed 20 min south after lunch to join my friends and a bunch of PCV's who were gathering at a really nice hotel in Adjengre for Thanksgiving dinner. We all chipped in for a cook to make turkey (very expensive here) and mashed potatoes, and people signed up to bring stuffing, green bean casserole and pies.  We ate and ate and made ourselves miserable in good Thanksgiving fashion.  It was nice, but a bit sad for me after talking with my family back home. Like Vanessa put it: not the Thanksgiving that gives you the warm, fuzzy, family feelings you're used to getting at the holidays.
Vanessa and Lydia came back and spent the day in LT with me Friday and we made Aposto and Nima mac 'n' cheese for dinner with the Velveeta my grandma had sent.  They shared the giant papya from one of their trees and it was another tasty, satisfying meal! Before she left Saturday morning, Vanessa and I decorated the little foam Christmas tree for my living room (thank you Kelli Carlberg!).
This week I've got to write up a curriculum for the women's groups and the English club, finish up the information and data collection for the malaria survey, and evaluate the results of the trade show with Aposto.  He was invited to go to Benin (Country to the east of Togo) with PC staff to showcase and sell his batiked PC items and I will head back to Lome to represent and promote PC at the West African trade show.  Two weeks back in LT then it will be Christmas! Wow time flys..


Things about my life now that you may not know:
-I wear a dress everyday. I strongly prefer the light, loose, flowing material that they use here for outfits here; the less clothing touching my skin the better in the heat.
-I don't have a sink so I wash my hands and brush my teeth everyday like one would when they are camping.
-I sleep when the roosters and pintards (guinea fowl?) sleep. Some of the noisiest and most annoying creatures I know are a part of my host families animals. They squawk literally all day long; I can now tell what time it is in the morning just by the roosters-- I guess this means they're doing a good job! Even with earplugs, there is no sleeping past 6am at my house. Everyone shuts up when night falls at 6 so I've been going to bed between 730-8.
-I try to get one vegetable and fruit a day. For those of you who knew me well in the States, you would know this is a big deal as I used to eat at least 5 fruits/vegetables throughout the day. These are just so scarce here.  I buy as much as I can carry when I go to Sokode each week (carrots, beets, cabbage, avocados) and I stretch it to make it last as long as possible. I buy oranges, bananas, onions, and tomatoes in LT.  Apples are a treat as you can only find them further south and are even expensive there.
-I am an ant killer. They are everywhere, especially around water and this includes my water filter. No insect bothers me more- I think because there is never just one.
-I pull my own water from the family well. I use a chamber pot at night so I don't have to venture out to my latrine when I have to go to the bathroom. Yes, I feel like I'm living in the 1800s some days.
-I live by ziplock bags (ants) and my headlamp (electricity is rarely strong enough to power my the one light in my living room).
-I constantly look for shade and get very excited when there is a breeze.

On the move: Week of November 7th in review:

Wow last week was a busy week! I'm afraid that my slow mornings with my book and coffee may nearing their end. While this is good as it means I've found work to do, I am going to miss that leisure time in the morning. 

So even after Tabaski was 'officially' over (last Sunday the 6th) the rice and spaghetti encored as my mom continued to bring me plates and plates for each meal. Never been so sick of rice in my life.  I even began packing it in tupper wares and carrying it around with me for snacks.  Nima, Aposto's girlfried even joked and asked how my rice was in our morning greeting (the morning salutations usually included asking how your's house, patience, kids, health, etc. are in local language). I love Nima and Aposto because they make a bit of a joke about this with me each morning so I was impressed when she slipped rice in there!

Let's see, opening my planner (yes, to those of you who heard I hadn't been using one - it's back and stuffed as ever :)  I spent Monday finishing a 6 page catalogue for Aposto's batik business.  I was proud of this as it was no easy task using his archaic computer in his very hot gallery.  I've been working on it for a few days, taking lots of deep breaths as the computer continued to freeze every so often and sweat rolled down my sides.  He was very impressed and happy with it and thus I felt accomplished and useful!

Tuesday brought on a different feeling.  I decided to take the day off from working out as I had been going pretty hard for 7 days and while I wanted to bike that morning, I could tell my legs weren't recovered and I knew I needed to rest.  This did not set me up for a good day as I felt sluggish and out of it.  Being here for as long as I have, you begin to get used to the poverty all around you; you don't notice the shacks or the filthy-half-naked children. It all just becomes natural- I remember Lorena reacting to my reactions when I first arrived and was still a little in awe/baffled by all of it.  She would shrug her shoulders and say 'ya, that's what they do.' I can feel myself becoming that way.  However, Tuesday when I was biking home from Aposto's my 'natural lenses' were stripped off and I had this overwhelming feeling at seeing again all of the issues, problems, areas of improvement all around me.  Lately I've been passionate about hand washing so I had a crazy idea that I should visit all 7,000 people of LT in my 2 years teaching them how and the importance of this simple but vital concept. Ya, not overwhelming at all.  Then, stopping to visit my co-worker there were some kids eating rice with this big glob of orangish mush. Oh! I thought to myself- could it be sweet potatoes? No no, my co-worker said, that's the grease from the cow fat left over from Tabaski.  Ugh. So I must spread the nutrition word; I must teach the importance of a balanced diet!  Walking a little further, I passed the Moringa trees (miracle trees- google it) and got up the guts to ask the mama if she actually uses the tree, if it's just for her, etc.  Of course she doesn't speak French- and neither do I for that matter- but luckily a middle school aged boy was around and he assisted as much as he could.  I walked off feeling more confused and adding pressure to myself of spreading the Moringa message.  

Arriving home, my host brothers are doing their homework while my host sister is working (carrying water, cleaning, preparing dinner, etc.).  This is a very common thing here -something I've watched over and over but at that point I thought to myself- Oh! I must educate them on the importance of girls going to school, sharing chores so she has an equal chance.  Maybe I should help her with her homework each night. And then I just cracked.  I got up one step of my porch and just started sobbing.  I can't do all of this. I can't make sure this entire town washes their hands before they eat, prepare more nutritious meals and treat girls equal to boys (just to mention a few). There is no way; there are too many issues and not enough of me or time. I'm not going to save these people and I'm not going to save LT.  Yes, we tell ourselves this all the time, but it really hit me that night.  As I was talking and crying to Michael later, he made a very good point.  I was crying, for the first time, because I was overwhelmed with the work and the need here. Whereas before when I would get upset in the first three months is was because I didn't know what to do, how to start, if I was even needed here. Huh-- what a change. I took a deep breath and realized that I've made it though one mindset change, I'll surely survive another as I continue to figure this whole adventure out.  To add to all of that, my water filter fell off the ledge on my porch and one of the purifying candles inside broke rendering my filter useless.  While boiling water and thinking far enough ahead so its cooled off by the time you want to drink it is not fun, I have been enjoying buying COLD Pure Waters (the purified water sachets you can buy everywhere) from the two stores with refrigerators here in LT. 

Wednesday was interesting.  I had a sunrise run as Aposto wanted to hit the road early.  We spent the morning delivering notebooks and school supplies to tiny schools and villages on a dirt road going east of of LT.  As we bumped along on the motorcycle, passing people walking into bush (I'm sure to their homes, but it was so desolate it was hard to tell) and I thought to myself, 'wow, it doesn't get much more Africa than this.'  Our first stop was at these two lean-to type shacks made of dried palm other tree leaves where two teachers (volunteers) were leading two classes of about 15 students each.  We gave each teacher a notebook and they were so grateful you'd have thought we were passing out salaries.  Eye-opening moment.  We continued in this fashion, going deeper into the bush, passing out notebooks for each of the teachers at each stop.  After about 5 stops like this we finally arrived at the school where we had supplies for kids who had lost a parent.   I was happy the NGO was able to provide a bit for these kids (about 20), but it just killed me to watch as the rest of the kids watched with big eyes.  These were definitely some of the poorest people I've seen so far. Kids in rags, some with half a tattered khaki uniform on, sandals with more bare feet on the bottom than material. Sadly, I was ready to get out of there. If the thought of those kids having to walk that far or find a ride to continue on to middle school wasn't disturbing enough, seeing them in their reality killed me.

Thursday I ventured off to Sokode as I has to pick up the dress I was having made for my co-workers wedding on Friday.  I ran all my errands via my bike: bank, post office, market for vegetables and bread and fetching my dress. It all went so smoothly and according to plan that I was wondering what was about to go wrong.  I met Rebekah for a late breakfast at a restaurant that serves yogurt. Had about 2 hours at the new PC workstation, hoping to get some things updated on Aposto's blog.  After it took over an hour to load 5 pictures, I had to go and left without one thing accomplished. Ahh.. yes, I'm in Africa.

Thursday afternoon and evening made up for it as my host mom summoned me over as she was dying her feet with a local plant she had added water to to create a paste.  Muslim women dye the outer edge of their feet orange and then black to symbolize a holiday or celebration.  I described it to Michael that it's sort of like when people wear Christmas looking things in December...sort of.  As I sat there and she patted the paste on I closed my eyes and took a deep breath and enjoyed the warm breeze.  It was so peaceful.  And the closest thing I've had to a pedicure or a massage in a long time! It also forced me to stay put and rest on my porch while it dried, which as much as I enjoy this is sometimes still difficult when I know I've got other things to do.  It had dried enough by 5 so that I could go over to my French tutor's house as his kids had insisted on me coming over so we could make dinner together.  This family runs like a well oiled machine.  Three girls and three boys and everyone has a job.  The best part is they all know their job and they do it without talking much and definitely without complaining (not how I remember Maddie and I's chore routine going growing up).  I just sat there (tried to help a little- they let me slice the tops off of tomatoes) and took it all in. Reminded me of a team of ants: quiet, determined and hard-working.  From peeling, slicing and boiling a giant yam they had grown in their field, mashing the ingredients for the sauce into a paste (tomatoes, peanuts, onions, peppers) using one flat stone and one round (I told them we have machines for that too), and then mashing the yams to create fufu, we finally ate 3 hours later. 

I had two requirements for the meal. First, everyone must wash their hands with soap before we ate. Two, everyone will eat together - as a family.  Usually the man is served first and eats by himself or with older boys, and the kids just sprawl wherever- door frames, on a random stool-wherever they can find a seat. I insisted that we would eat as a family and while they looked at me funny and rolled their eyes, they managed to put two small tables together and crowd around. I was so proud and they just laughed.  Then I shared my Grandma's oatmeal raisin cookies with them which were a hit and I think may have made up for the regulations I made them follow at dinner.

Friday morning my friend Hortance had become pretty sick and I spotted her on the road headed to the private clinic to begin treatment for malaria.  My first time witnessing the IV process here.  Not too bad.  Hortance needed to eat first so we went to fetch some pate- the local cuisine made of crushed corn- around the corner. I was disappointed that even at a clinic the food (I'll never complain about hospital food ever again!) wasn't more nutritious that what everyone eats.  Same empty pate and fish sauce.  UGH. I suggested they could use enriched cornmeal (add crushed peanuts of Morenga powder) and they smiled politely.  Hortance got hooked up and I proceed onto the hospital for the weekly baby weighing.

I had tried to mentally prepare more for the malnourished and overwhelming amount of babies and time the process takes.  Of course when I get there only about a third of the women from last week had showed up.  I learned that it was because a lot of the moms only come once a month and/or when their baby is up for a vaccine. Of course the tiny ones I had my eye out for were not there. I did however encounter my first pregnant mom (only 23) who was HIV positive.  I sat in awe as the nurse pleaded with her to take the medicine she was giving her so that it wouldn't be passed on to the baby.  I even stayed in the room to hold her wailing toddler while the nurse examined her. Wow- only in Africa. The nurse asked if I had anything to tell her and I just tried to reemphasize what she had said: take the meds, get your other child tested, and make sure you sleep under your mosquito net.

That afternoon was the wedding I'd been anticipating.  On my way home there must have been 5 people stop to ask me if I was going (they LOVE my dyed feet) and to make sure I wear my 'costume'- the dress in the matching fabric with everyone else.  This was funny to me-- they had to be sure I was dressed appropriately!  I waited for my mom and we didn't leave to walk down the path to the wedding at the woman's home until an hour after it was suppose to start. Already confused, but I went with it.  The women (probably close to 75) went nuts seeing me dressed up with a traditional African style hat tied on my head, a veil my mom had given me to over  that, and the black eyebrows she had painted on. I was quite a site. Everyone sat on mats on the ground in a semi-circle, the women of course separated from the men.  Three guys banged drums and everyone threw candy at them. The Gado, my co-worker came out with her female family crowded around her and we threw even more candy. Then we gave candy to her mom and more loud dancing, singing and things I'm sure I didn't catch continued on. Then it was time to move and everyone headed to her new husbands house down the road. It was literally like a wedding parade.  Easily 150 people, the moto drivers of LT directed what little traffic that could fit past us.  They presented Gado to her husband and some important looking men, took her suitcase in her house and that was pretty much it. The majority of the people left but a few mamas held onto me and drug me behind the house where there was a small dance party. I did my best to dance with the drums and then people threw candy at me!  Luckily it ended quickly but everywhere I go now people talk about me dancing. Word travels fast-even in little villages in Africa.  All that hype and anticipation for about an hour of activity. Well, I guess that's kind of what it's like in the States? I asked Aposto and the non-Muslims would have the same ceremony but also a party afterwards.

Saturday morning, a PCVL visited to spend the day in LT and observe my life here.  Ben, is a health volunteer and also the national organizer for the summer camp for kids affected by HIV/AIDS (Camp Espoir).  His French is awesome and so as I showed him around he could talk to people and explain more about why I'm here and the work I hope to do. This was especially helpful at the clinic and hospital where I had had struggles with the director.  So thankful for Ben's time here. Helping me establish more credibility and understanding.  We visited Aposto and the market for some traditional Saturday afternoon tchouk.

Sunday I headed south to Sotoboua (about 45 min) to help with the monthly Club Espoir- a continuation of the summer camp.  Twenty eager kids- all very familiar with PCV's, camp songs and games- spent the morning singing and dancing.  I watched as the three Togolese adult leaders explained the days lesson of HIV/AIDS to the group of 10-17 year olds.  
Gave me ideas for working with kids and groups and good ways to present material.  After a hot and detour filled car ride back where I got to show off a bit of my local language, I made it back to LT and got organized for another busy week!

Two weeks in review...

Passion Ignited
The last week of October the people from my training group (who I will refer to as ‘stagemates’ – stage is French for training) met in Pagala for a week of technical training.  While Pagala is very humid and damp, it was like being on a mini-vacation; surrounded by my closest friends, enjoying running water and an abundance of delicious food prepared by the PC kitchen staff. The week started off slow for me as some of the sessions I didn’t feel pertained to my interests or the realities of the possible work in LT. For example: teaching kids how to use computers (there are no computers in LT) or helping groups become official nonprofits (there is only one nonprofit in LT that I already work with). Not to say this isn’t important and meaningful work; just not what got me fired up.   Then God intervened when a PCV presented on the new Malaria Initiative for W. Africa. Through that and further discussion with other Volunteers in regard to health work, I felt my passion being reignited and my inspiration to work and make an impact in LT being stirred up! It was really encouraging and refreshing.  I proceeded to make a list of possible projects as the week went on (creating a hand washing campaign, creating a health group at school, teaching the women’s groups to make enriched flour), spending time looking through the PC Health Sector handbook for ideas and to get a better grasp on the health system of Togo. I even noted in my journal that day “coffee isn’t necessary if you’re doing the right work- the work should motivate/inspire and drive your passion naturally. (For those of you who know me well, go ahead and laugh now ) Needing to process my thoughts, I confided in a PCVL (Peace Corps Volunteer Leader—someone staying for a 3rd year) who was a health volunteer and he was really encouraging, giving me ideas and offering suggestions for getting started.  He also reminded me that the work and the projects must be what my community wants and needs and I must keep that in mind as I ‘plan out’ my next steps.
However, I’ve been to enough conferences/seminars/workshops to know that the real challenge is taking that excitement and inspiration and turning into action once you get back to real life.  This was on my mind and something I was really worried about all week and I tried to keep God in the forefront, asking Him to help me trust in His plan and that He would show me the way as He has done so many times in the past. Then a few of us went for a run Thursday morning.  We took a specific route that I knew was going to be uphill the entire way.  One of those runs where you check your watch every 5 minutes and wonder if you’re really this out of shape and how much longer you can push on.  Finally it was time to turn around and God just lit up the second half for me.  My friend Veronica (a very talented runner) and I were flying down the hill; it felt so effortless and gave me a newfound confidence.   We were now heading east and the sun was peeking out of the mountains, battling the fog that had settled in overnight.  It was absolutely breathtaking. The Third Day song on my Ipod, the sun bright and beautiful, and the fog holding steady so you couldn’t see too far ahead; an incredible God moment.  I knew He was there and I chuckled to myself that I had forgotten during the struggle and during the week that this journey isn’t all about me or for me.  God instilled this passion to work and live in another culture in me a long time ago, He’s brought me to Togo, and He’s led me this far through this adventure.  I’ve got to trust that He’s got the plans laid out and He will show me the way as I struggle to figure things out and turn ideas and inspiration into action.

It was a really hard run.  The downhill coast was more challenging as my Vero was pushing a sub-8 minute mile pace.  At one point I thought about letting her go, and just going at my own pace. But then I realized I don’t get to run with people very often, and you don’t become a better runner by going at at the same pace all the time.  You don’t get better or gain anything if you don’t endure the struggle. As we hitting the homestretch and I was pretty whipped, I thought back to my basketball days in High School and my mom always saying, “Leave it all on the floor; don’t hold anything back and be able to say after the game that you gave it everything you had.”  I smiled at that memory and rolled my shoulders back and pressed on to keep up with Vero.  Struggle leads to change, which leads to growth, which leads to progress. Whether it be in basketball, early morning runs in Africa, or two years serving the people of  Togo, I’ve got to leave it all out there – give it all I’ve got and allow God to lead me.

At the end of the week, I made a poster; a visual aid to remind myself of the week.  My ideas and excitement from the week are spread out all of the paper with the people who can help me and I can reach connected to each idea in the center.  It’s going in my living room, right above my new desk! 


We are who we are. 
The Diversity Committee is a really great group started recently by PCV’s here in Togo.  Their mission is to help volunteers feel safe, comfortable, and confident in who they are by leading diversity training sessions with staff and volunteers.  Our Diversity Session during our weeklong training focused on identifying who we are in the different aspects of our lives- both in the U.S. and here in Togo. For example: What identity most defines you in Togo? The answer options were posted on signs all around the area: gender/sex, religion, soci-economic status, age.  We then stood by whichever sign you felt pertains to your answer to the question.  It was a fascinating activity as I realized I’ve become more aware of my personal identity since being here than ever before in the States. I’ve become more aware of America’s diversity as well by coming to Togo. I was so thankful for the session as it gave our group the chance to learn more about each other and gain a deeper respect and understanding of who each of us is.  A really cool moment.  Ironically, we pointed out that even as we know that each individual is different and unique, we are sometimes at fault for seeing all Togolese people as the same.  We naturally lump people into groups; we do it the States, and I know I’m guilty of doing it here.  Those few hours were powerful; not only for bringing our stage closer but for making that very important point that we must try to see and treat people as the unique, special individuals they are. We aren’t all the same  - in America or in Togo and like my mom says, "it's what makes the world go 'round!"

Eye-opening moments:
This past week Aposto was gone in Lome and after the training in Pagala I was inspired to go out on my own and explore LT a bit more.  Tuesday was the All Saints day celebration at the church. The three hour service also included a large baptism of babies dressed in white.  Tchouk followed after of course! Wednesday I met my French teacher at the middle school which is about 2 minutes from my house. He took me to meet the director who then introduced me to the other teachers in the staff meeting in their 'teachers lounge' (aka the newly constructed hut).  I sat in on a few of my teacher's English classes both Wednesday and Thursday and was blown away. Not only does the shell of the cement classrooms sadly resemble packed, sweaty and hot bush taxi's that serve as our only mode of transportation, but the students have no books. Packed three to a desk with at least 100 kids in each room, the teacher writes things on the board from the one book they have and the kids meticulously copy and memorize it and that's their lesson- that's what they take home and study at night.
Friday morning I went to the weekly baby weighing and vaccination at the hospital (again a cement shell of a building with a few examination and recovery rooms). For four hours the one nurse patiently saw at least 30 mothers -some with babies they had just delivered the night before, a lot who were 3-4 months old, 5 sets of twins (poor mamas!), and some little ones who were sick and not at the weight they should be. It was exhausting and overwhelming.  I couldn't help but think how many other women were out there who had infants and weren't bringing them in. Or what about the ones who are underweight? The nurse yells at the mom to do better but they won't or don't have the means to step in until the child falls even further behind. What can I do? Follow the mom to her house? Show her how to make enriched flour or bouie that they feed the older babies? AHH! I felt so frustrated and helpless especially with my lack of health vocabulary. But still I'm excited to go back and help again on Friday, slowly earning the mama's trust and hopefully one day leading informational sessions for them on nutrition and sanitation while they wait to see the nurse.

Yesterday was Tabaski- the Muslim holiday that follows Ramadan. It consists of more cooking and eating. It's very interesting as the women all prepare the same things (fufu, rice, spaghetti) with different sauces and then spend all day sharing it with others. So my mom sits in her cooking hut dishing up plates while the kids run the bowls of various things to friends and family in the neighborhood, all while accepting the same food coming in from others! Thankfully, this is a day I don't have to worry about cooking-- and I just look at is as a large carb-load for a big bike ride (last night) and run (this am). Even cooler, yesterday afternoon, the kids walked in the compound with a quarter of a cow on their head- one hoof, half the nose, skin- EVERYTHING. I sat in awe as my mom and the kids cut it all up and cooked it over the fire.  Pretty sure I've had a lot of stomach, intestines, liver and who knows what else in the past few hours... I just tell myself it's valuable protein and to chew fast! 


This week will be busy; working on marketing things for Aposto and the business as the Trade Show is next week in Lome. Also need to get organized for the malaria survey I'm conducting at the end of November in LT, and one of my co-workers is getting married on Thurs/Friday...so that will be an experience I'm sure too!
Also, weather is heating up here- so strange as I'm so used to  the temps dropping off back home for the holidays. It sure doesn't feel like Christmas is coming...but that didn't stop me from jamming to some Christmas music on my bike ride last night!


Good things. Answered prayers of needing to feel needed, useful, busy here in LT. God continues to bless me with wonderful, kind people to work with and I try to seek His guidance and trust His plans-- day by day!

October update

These past few weeks have been good.  I spent a few days in Pagala with another SED volunteer who has been here a year.  It was great getting to see her work as she is a very dedicated, motivated, and creative volunteer.  Some of her work include: creating a 6-week business seminar for local carpenters, masons, tailors and seamstresses.  She’s going to have local professionals (Aposto is one of the trainers) teach one topic each week (accounting, marketing, SWOT analysis, etc.) and anyone can attend.  She came up with this and will carry it out in Pagala on her own. I really respect and admire her ingenuity and drive. Also she has a Peer Educators club at the middle and high schools—teaching life skills once a week, a mothers club- organized by the Red Cross but who she works with on health projects throughout the village (latrine installation, village clean up days, starting a health club for young girls, etc), and she and her counterpart have formed many tontines which are small credit unions for groups of women to save and take loans. She is very busy and was quite inspired.

I went down to Anie, my friend Connor’s town as it was only a half hour drive south to visit for the weekend. Connor is an amazing cook and he made us Coco Vin with garlic butter mashed potatoes and Nutella and banana pizza for desert. OH MY GOODNESS.  Quite amazing from the cabbage and eggs  and PB&J’s I’ve been making for myself!  The next morning he made stuffed French toast with banana syrup…again, wow. We took a last-minute trip about 3 hours west where there was a PCV birthday party going on and it was so good to see some of my friends from training. Just a quick (sort of) trip there on Saturday and back on Sunday but worth it.

Last week and this week have been busy – and thus the time has passed pretty quick! With the PC Trade Show coming up in November, Aposto is very busy making t-shirts, computer bags and other things to sell.  While I don’t see myself regularly working with the wax and dying the fabric, it has been nice to be able to help and keep busy.  Makes me feel a part of something.  I also began my French lessons last week. My tutor is an English teacher at the school and is very kind and patient.  I go over to his family’s house a few nights a week and my lessons consist of talking with his 7 kids with them asking me questions about the U.S., me responding in somewhat broken French, and my tutor providing the translation and help along the way. I really appreciate just being able to practice speaking (although I’ve been doing more and more of this spending a lot of time at Aposto and Nima’s house).   I had a perfect ‘Peace Corps moment’ the other night as the kids and I sat on their porch talking for 2 hours all about the U.S. I was able to dispel rumors and confirm some of their thoughts about the States. They asked things like how long does it take to get back to the U.S.? How many people fit in an airplane?  What do they do with the corn that the farmers grow -- make pate? Fufu? They were shocked when I told them if they gave me a bowl of corn right now, I wouldn’t be able to make a meal out of it (not sweet corn folks).  This is CRAZY to them as every girl my age –and younger- knows how to pound the corn into meal and make pate (their staple meal).   I was able to explain what PC is and why I’m living in LT.  We talked about heavier things too; I explained how even though we have machines to do a lot of our work (especially around the house) the people still work a lot (they thought that Americans have lots of free time since they’re not spending a lot of time on the dishes, laundry, fanning charcoal stoves).  I explained how some would argue in the States that development- the machines- have made life more difficult: the more machines the less jobs for people and the more time for people to spend at their office and not with their family.  They were shocked when I said some people only have a half hour for lunch, as they have a 3 HOUR break each day! We talked about poverty – trying to convince them that there are homeless and hungry kids and families in the States.   “But we are an impoverished country too,” they exclaimed. “How can there be poverty when you have so much in the States?” Now, this is hard to explain thoroughly in English, let alone in French, but I gave it my best shot.  I explained how there are different kinds of poverty: you don’t see many homeless people in Togo as everyone takes care of each other, almost everyone as a house, even if it’s made of mud with a thatched roof – but still everyone has somewhere to sleep each night.   We talked about how it was easy for me to come and live in Togo but it would be very difficult for them to move to U.S. 

This was a really amazing conversation.  The kids were so interested and it was neat to be able to explain things to them – trying to point out that life isn’t perfect or easy in the States either.  A couple of times I sat back and said to myself, ‘Wow, I’m in Africa and THIS is Peace Corps.’

Even with the really great moments there have been some sad days to (too be expected I guess).  Hearing from home is so nice. Hearing my family and friend’s voices and being updated on their lives is very exciting. But it’s also very challenging sometimes too. Last week I had the opportunity to talk with some of my best friends – including my sister.  But after about the 4^th conversation I lost it and had a small pity party for myself. Calling Vanessa and venting about being here and not there to be with the people I love, miss, and want to be able to comfort, celebrate and just be with.   One must be in the right mindset to hear from home; even checking email and Facebook.  I must constantly remind myself that I’m on an adventure and that I won’t be here forever and will soon return to be with my family and friends.

After church Sunday I went over and helped Aposto and Nima shuck their corn. I’ve learned everyone – everyone! – has a farm here. Even if it’s just a few rows of corn, everyone grows something.  And they grow it to survive.  Dad asked me on the phone if they’ll feed it to their animals or sell it – and when I asked Aposto he laughed and said ‘of course not! We will eat it for the rest of the year!’   This led to another great conversation about what Americans –or some Iowans at least- do with their crops.

I also had the chance to lead a couple of activities with some women’s groups.  Last Monday morning I went with my host mother to her group to present the Seasonal Calendar which we had been trained on in June.  Along with Felicite, a women who works for the NGO in LT, we spent an hour talking and literally making a calendar of the year to highlight when the women spend money (school fees, religious holidays, buying things for the farm) and the times of the year when they don’t have as many expenses.  We pointed out times of year when there are more marriages, the prevalence of illness, and even the time of year when there is a food shortage (hot season). The whole point was for them to be able to literally see when they spend money, where their money most likely goes, and the times of year when they could save money to lessen the burdens of the harder times of the year. If they know that malaria is more prevalent in the rainy season, then they can put aside some money for medicine or save to buy mosquito nets before the rains come.  It went over really well and my host mother was beaming the whole time. I then had the chance to lead this activity again with Aposto’s help with another group of women from the Christian side of town (my mom and our neighborhood is Muslim).  Aposto is a great instructor and he translated my broken French (Fran-glais as we call it) into their local language.  Again, it went really well and the president asked me to come back and teach them more things! YES!

Lots of things coming up in the next few weeks: another week of technical training all next week with my friends in Pagala.  I don’t miss training, but I sure do miss being with my friends every day.   Then in the final two weeks before the Trade Show there is a big Muslim holiday, a PCV going away party and my one of my NGO co-worker’s is getting married.  Then I will head to Lome for the Trade Show –proudly representing Aposto‘s business alongside him (he calls me his ‘big manager’) for a few days.  There will be lots of PCVs down there for the Swearing-In of the next group of Volunteers who have been in training these past few months.  Then a PCV is hosting a ‘real’ Thanksgiving not too far from me and PCV’s from all over the country will come.  In December I’m planning a trip to Badou to visit Vanessa and I’m hoping my training group will all spend Christmas on the beach in Agbodrafo where my friend Lucian lives.  Exciting times!