SMALL BLESSINGS

Small Blessings

• Don’t forget new photos are up
• “Empowering Young Women to Initiate Change” was a training I found online at the YWCA that I did over the course of 4 days in June at the collège with all the girls in 4eme (9^th grade?).  There were 42 girls, although we lost about half of those by the fourth day, due to conflicts in the school schedule and also to the increasingly ambivalent attitude of both students and teachers towards attendance (all exams are done a month before school is officially over, so kids don’t have any motivation to come to school cause it’s their exam grades that count, so most villages treat it as unofficial vacation time and even expect the kids not to attend school).  The themes were :  HIV/AIDS, Economic Justice, Human Rights, and Sexual/Reproductive Health.  By the end of the second day I changed stuff around according to the girls’ interests and abilities, so we ended up doing activities on HIV/AIDs; learned how to make banana fritters to sell as an income generating activity; learned how to do a feasibility study and budget money; and lots of reproductive health.  And for some reason I’m drawing a blank on what I did the third day but that’s ok .  Anyway, it didn’t go too badly, and I loved the reproductive health day – it was the ONLY time the girls took notes , they were fascinated, although they were too shy to ask questions, unfortunately.  It was great to finally just to something only with the girls and to see how they appreciate that.  It also helped me get over a little bit of the discouraged slump I’ve been going through.   Some of the male students at the collège are also asking for a  training of their own , but I’m worried about fitting it in because I’m busy with Camp Espoir and also because of the aforementioned attendance problems I don’t really feel like preparing a training and then have no one show up.  So I’ll think about it and decide this week.  School officially ends on July 17, so there are 2 weeks left.

• My birthday fete was great! We had it on the 24^th so that all the school exams were over so that everyone could participate.  We had rice and wagash (fresh real cheese… it’s sort of like mozzarella?) in a yummy tomato sauce.  I played togolese music on my ipod with speakers and Justine presented me with a pagne skirt for a present and a birthday card!

• * AKOU PASSED HER CEPD EXAM !! This means she will continue on to collège next year as a 6eme student, and that no matter what happens in her life, she has an actual diploma to justify her eduction.  As you know, I love both Akou and Adjo, in different ways due to their age differences; but Akou and I have a special bond (probably due to her age – looking for a big sister substitute?) and so when I heard that she had succeeded I was overwhelmed with pride and joy.  It was Michel who came to my house and told me that both Akou and his little sisters had passed; Michel has put even more effort than I have into tutoring this group of little girls.  He told me first; but when I saw Akou the next day I pretended not to know.  She kept looking at me out of the corner of her eye and couldn’t contain herself.  When at last I asked her, she tried to give the customary, Togolese response of nonchalance, “Oh ca va….” (meaning yes) but couldn’t quite pull it off:  a big grin spread across her face and she hooked her arm through mine as she said it and instantly leaned in for the embraces she knew I would shower her with.  Now she has begun to insist on that fieldtrip to Lomé (she’s never been) that I promised her as a treat this summer; hopefully we’ll go sometime next week, just her and I, to the beach and the grand marché and the Peace Corps bureau and buy ice cream and talk about how she should keep on going, right on through lycée …. Her older sister, Viale and Justine’s younger sister who attends high school in Lome, just passed her BAC I exam too, so she only has one more year/exam to pass (the BAC II).  I am still waiting on the BAC II for Michel and Emmanuel, they should be hearing really soon, and I have a huge ball of dread in my stomach due to the realities of the education system and corruption and just life in general here; that chances are they have not passed, and I am not sure if they will accept to repeat another year again ….
• On another positive note, the day after I found out about Akou, I found out that KOKOUTSE PASSED THE BEPC which means he has finished collège and will enter lycee in Vogan next year!!!  Again, I was so excited and felt like hugging the entire village.  I bought him and his best friend Coca Colas at one of the buvettes in village.  The BEPC is a major stumbling block in rural Togo, and many kids after they fail it will not return to school because they can’t be bothered to repeat 3eme again just to take the national exam.  But the BEPC is the key to continuing lycee and to getting the BAC II (another near-impossible feat) and without BAC II it is hard to find any sort of “real” work (not that the jobs are there anyway, but that’s another conversation…)   Anyway, the week that I found out that so far three people in Justine’s family have passed their exams was an extremely happy week for me.  Like I said, hopefully we’ll hear about michel and emmanuel’s results soon !  (Although I’m scared.)

• The night of my birthday fete I had to take a bush taxi from hell to get back to village, …. Long story but it involved the rains, 35 ppl in a 15-place vehicle, flooded roads, breaking down, etc etc… Not the point right now. As we were entering the taxi, I slid over next to the gear stick next to the driver; I’m used to sitting this way with slanted legs and turned body.  Michel said: “Anna, no.  Get out.  I’ll sit there.”  At first I thought he was just being mildly chivalrous – sitting closer to the window is more coveted and I thought he was assuming that I would be mad at my seat placement.  I started to assure him that no, I was used to sitting like this.  Michel shook his head.   “No – you’ll have to squeeze even more.  They want to put three people there.  Let me sit first.”  So now because we were so squeezed in , Michel was obligated to practically sit on the driver’s lap, straddling the stick gear and permitting the driver to reach over and down every time he switched gears.  It’s actually not that uncommon for bad drivers to put someone in this position, which Ive blatently refused before, and only had to actually do once (which was with a driver that I knew from village and who was obviously so terrified that he would be accused of molesting the white gear that he used the bare mimimum of movements needed to shift gears), but I have never, ever seen anyone (up till now) voluntarily offer to sit in this position, much less take note of the fact that it is ultimately more humiliating for a woman to deal with this, and refuse to let her suffer through it .

• It’s 730 at night.  Simon has called me to see why I’m not back in village yet, as I was expected to return from Pagala this evening.  I explain that the car did not arrive at Lome until past 6 o’clock, ,which would have obligated me to take a moto to village around 8pm , well into darkness, something I wasn’t willing to risk considered how much it’s been raining and that even in daylight it’s a little terrifying to have the moto be surrounded by so much water that it covers my toes.   His voice is still weak from the malaria that’s been troubling him all this week, but I can tell he’s frowning.    “If only I was in better health,” he says, “I would tell you to just get a car anyway and I would come myself to pick you up on the road.”  About to say goodbye, he adds, “Tomorrow when you’re coming back you should call us and maybe I’ll send Justine’s brother with my moto to pick you up from Hahotoe.”  “I don’t understand , why can’t I just take a zemijan like I normally do?”  “Because that’s more money for you to spend.”   Let me get this straight – I’m the white American who can afford to spend the night in Lome and Simon wants to not only make sure I get driven by someone I know/trust, and to get back to village as soon as possible, but to save me money?   Driving the motorcycle in  the dark is no easy feat even for experts, and yet here he is voluntarily having the idea that he could come to Hahotoe to pick me up, as opposed to me just paying the moto taxis who are already there.

New Photos

New albums are posted:
1) Becka’s Going Away Party
2) My 25th Birthday Party
3) Training: Empowering Young Women to Initiate Change (a 4 day seminar I did at the middle school in June)

some details on benin

So as I mentioned, photos from Benin are up at the usual site or you can click here .

Benin was great. I would love to go back there and explore more (particularly the park in the north where you can go on safari and see animals!)

Crossing the border was a little chaotic , and confusing because the time changes ahead one hour as soon as you cross the border! The border is very easy to cross if you’re Togolese and you forgot your national identity card — just blatently hand the immigration officers 500 cfa and you’re on your way…. We, on the other hand, were obliged to fill out paper work and deal with policemen on power trips before receiving our 48 hour visas.

Our home base was Grand Popo, a beach town with several hotels and not much else to do except lie on a hammock in the beach or soak in the pool. I know, life is tough, right ?

Because this is “off” tourist season we were pretty much alone the whole time, and enjoyed ourselves eating good food and keeping good company. (We were 5 PCVs.)

The second day I decided to go to Ouidah because I’d heard it was the second most visited tourist place in Benin. I caught a car to Ouidah in the morning (about an hour or so away from Grand Popo).

Ouidah was fascinating. In January it has an annual voodoo celebration but even on non-fete days you can tell that you are definitely in voodoo Africa… First I went to the Portuguese fort which is also a museum. (OK, yes, I might not have gone to the museum if it hadn’t been a Portuguese fort haha.) The Portuguese never colonized Benin but they had outposts here for trade. There were lots of artifacts, maps, pictures, and interesting information on Portuguese-Beninois relationship and the slave trade and also the influence of voodoo on the Caribbean islands, Brazil, etc.

Afterwards I did the “Slave Walk”. You start at the location of the slave market. First the slaves would have been held at the Portuguese fort. Then they would have been brought the market to sell. (Or vice versa, I forget.) Afterwards, they would be marched the 4K to the beach where ships would take them across the Atlantic ocean. There is a monument there called the Point of No Return. Along the way, there are statues representing the different voodoo kings of Benin, and also pertinent points of interest, such as the location of the small building they would shut the slaves up in to test their endurance in cramped dark conditions before putting them on the ship.

I spent the day in Ouidah and really enjoyed it because of its historical and cultural significance.

In the early evening Fabiola and I went hippo watching ! A total tourist trap but I enjoyed it :-p

We paid a man who approached us on the beach to take us into the mangroves and watch for hippos. We went at a bad time so they weren’t feeding on the banks but we did see two or three surfacing and coming up for air several times. It was a little scary, particularly as we became more and more convinced that the hippos were a myth and we were going to get murdered by the Benin guides (why else would we need THREE men to take us hippo watching? we thought it would just be the one), but all’s well that ends well and it made a great story. We were pretty skittish, especially when Fabiola muttered in English, “Oh, we’re definitely going to die” and our guide, who didn’t speak English but wanted to copy our accents, echoed, “Oh, ‘re going to die…” Not exactly the thing you want to hear. But it was the perfect end to a great day — Voodoo, Slavery, and Hippos!

The next day we crossed the border back into Togo around noon and then it was a quick trip for me back to village (an hour? 1 1/2?). I would love to go back to Benin and maybe I will get another chance before I COS.

Photos from Benin

There are photos from Benin at the normal site now posted

May 8 2009

Blog Post

Photos: May 2009

A new photo album has been added, called “May 2009” . It is mainly of the First of May Fete (Workers’ Holiday), but also has pictures of kids playing American football and baseball at the collège ….

World Map Project

The World Map mural is DONE. You can see photos at the normal site. It was pretty exhilarating putting the last paint stroke on and knowing I was completely finished. Since the end of Marc, I spent every afternoon with the students and the weekends (mainly by myself) as well as during the 10-day Easter vacation I was at the school every day for 5 hours including weekends.

The World Map Project was a little different than I expected. The fabulous manual that gives you all the instructions, the grid outlines, the paint guides, etc. etc., is really (in my humble opinion) designed for an American-like service project. My kids in village are not American teenagers. There is no culture of after-school activities or extracurricular interests or volunteering your time without being obligated to. (This is not necessary Togo; in bigger towns or in more motivated schools there are extra curricular activities). Also, “kids will be kids”, so anytime I had more than 5 kids together it was a disaster in terms of concentration and making mistakes and goofing off. There were several kids that worked well and were very meticulous in their work, even though they didn’t come on weekends to help me.

During the Easter vacation nearly every time I was there there was a quiet boy from the troisieme (who was not included in the regular group of kids who were working on the map during the week) who I had never met before but who showed up regularly and simply worked quietly on the map with him. His name was Eli and I appreciated very much. One day I had to go to Atakpame so I bribed Kokoutse my 20yearold brother in the class of troisieme to go with his friend Bogavi to finish drawing Europe in my absence so I could start painting the next day. (I knew those Tshirts with American flags I brought back from the States would come in handy!) Seven year old Adjo also loved to traipse over to the collège to “help” and to watch me and to hand me paintbrushes. Also probably because she knew I always had cookies or some other snack to nibble on at the end of the day. Then she would help me carry all the paint back to Justine’s where I was storing it. Emmanuel who is in lycée also helped me paint in Russia one day when he was using the collège’s blackboards to study. But the point is everyone who helped me wasn’t “supposed” to – they just wanted to, as opposed to the 30 or so kids that worked on the map during the school day that were “supposed” to be doing so.

Another point of interest is most Togolese kids can’t really paint (they use the paintbrush like a crayon and move it back and forth regardless of borders or accuracy) so even though I was highly frustrated and bitter towards the lack of enthusiasm to help me during the vacation, secretly I know that the map is a lot prettier because I was mainly the one who filled in the colors. Painting the map was fun and very relaxing (I always loved doing murals in Philly). It is relatively large – about 4.5 meters by 2.25 meters. I ended up writing in most of the countries’ names in French with a sharpie (talk about BORING having to look it all up in a dictionary).

The only continent whose labels did not get finished was Europe. The maps we used were from 1995 and hence in Europe particularly there are great inaccuracies. You can just imagine what I felt when I discovered this. I feel a little guilty knowing that this map is not 100% accurate but on the other hand, the grids had already been drawn and it was too hard to find another map by the time I noticed. Africa too was problematic (it still had “Zaire” on it!) but I just labeled it the Congo and hoped no one would notice any erroneous borders. WHOOPS. The whole of the European Balkans area is completely unlabeled (maybe cause half of those countries don’t exist any more….) but no one seems to have noticed so far……

After talking to other PCVs about my frustrations and difficulties with the map, I realized that the map might be one of those projects that in theory sounds great and that Peace Corps directors etc may encourage you to do, and that sounds great in the United States —- but in reality, is more of a project for a volunteer to do to see something concrete that they’ve actually done in Togo and to make themselves feel good…. Other PCVs also have had frustrations with the map, too. So perhaps we should start counseling PCVs to do the map, but make them away of the challenges and potential setbacks ahead of time.

The map is beautiful and I’m very proud of it. But if I had a choice I’m not sure if I would do it again. Or if I would do it again, I would definitely change the way I did things, and I would rope the teachers into obligating the students to help me on Wednesday afternoons and on the weekends. (I was a sucker and was too nice and said “Oh of course you have to work in the fields, ok, well, come if it’s possible…. Just try….” If it was a real teacher at the school he would have said “Sorry about your private life but I need you on Saturday so show up or else.”)

“Work”

Started up the English club (twice a week) again. It was put on hold while we were doing the world map. I wanted to do English work with the Troisieme again this year to prepare them for their BEPC (national exam that will let them go to high school) but the school director has not yet taken me up on this offer and time is running out, unfortunately. So I don’t think this will happen.

The total number of primary schools I am working in is now 4. This too has its frustrations. Because of the scheduling, I cannot work in all 4 in one week. This means that every single week I had to walk around to every school to set up the schedule (OK I came last week so I’m not coming this week… OK shall I come Tuesday? …. Etc) Also more and more I am getting “bumped” as the rainy season is in full fledge and the teachers want the kids to go to the fields in the afternoon. This is very frustrating and sometimes makes me very stubborn and angry. Especially after I’m the one who has put forth effort into setting up the schedule, I get upset when I’m cancelled at the last minute. Sometimes this makes me not want to put a lot of effort into re-scheduling. Work is very difficult because I do not have any true “counterparts” that work with me that can continue my work after I’m gone and also puts all of work responsiblities on me – IE it’s up to me to motivate myself to show up at the schools and say “excuse me, can I stop by on Thursday afternoon to work with the kids”—I don’t have anyone that comes by and says “Anna! We love your work! You’re comng by on Thursday, right?” I know the school directors all appreciate me, but they place all of the motivation on me , so sometimes it’s difficult to feel like I’m actually accomplishing anything. So many times I sit and write out lists of what I want to accomplish (young mothers’ training, girl scouts, mini-camp at the schools) but then things never materialize because it is all on me to put it into practice and not only is this overwhelming but sometimes I just honestly don’t know how to start something so it never happens. My APCD talked to me and said the first year I did so many great things, the implication being that now I’m in my second year I am not really doing anything, so now I’m under pressure to “do” something. (This is a whole ‘nother topic for a different conversation and it might not even be appropriate for this blog.) It’s easy to start putting things off about this time though; meetings and preparation for things like Camp Espoir are under way, so it’s hard not to look at a calendar and say “Well there’s only one week available in June where I could do a mothers’ training, but I don’t know if I’ll have enough time to prep for it the week before so I don’t know if I should do it…..”

When I’m free, I continue to help out at the dispensaire weighing babies and there are other things keeping me busy, Camp Espoir preparations, Leve Toi Jeune Fille work (the magazine I help edit), village life including fetes and weddings and going to the fields and organizing the kids’ Easter skit and rehearsing with the tailors for their performance at May 1st Fete and a whole bunch of other stuff that keeps me busy and tired all the time but somehow nothing to “prove” myself……

Easter

Easter was fanta-bu-lous. I’d forgotten that at somepoint during all the vigils (can’t remember if it was Thursday or Saturday) there is a long interlude with drums and singing while people rush around taking down all the clothes that have been hiding the crucifixes and statues and put up garlands and relight the candles. Quite marvelous to see, especially Michel balancing on the back of the priest’s chair to reach the top of the large crucifix that was draped in purple (see, if it was me, at this point I would have tumbled to the floor and broken my ankle). The Easter play went splendidly – even better than Christmas, although we didn’t have as big an audience because people went home since it was so late. I should have done it on Easter Sunday cause I don’t think the video turned out that well ‘cause it was nighttime. And thankfully, Jesus remembered to rise from the dead, which he (she) forgot to do during dress rehearsal (at which point I was rocking back and forth whimpering from stress).

My absolute favorite part? When I brought out one of the girls dressed up as a chicken (beak and all) and she CROWED into the microphone when Simon Peter denied Christ three times. The church erupted into applause and amusement.

Adjo was so proud of her spear that I made out of a stick and cut-up flipflop and duct-tape. We used one of the three kings’ crowns for Pontius Pilate. There were about 15 little girls who took part. People kept coming up and saying in Ewe “You really made an effort” which basically means “Amazing job”. Just like Christmas, they hadn’t imagined it would be so great. (I’m pretty proud of the props.) Jesus even had a crown of thorns, and we threw in a scene of Veronique wiping his (her – all female actors) face with a towel that I drew a face on with Sharpies and watercolor paints (so it looked bloody). The next day, the lady who makes beignets (doughnuts), whose daughter participated, wouldn’t let me pay for the doughnuts and gave me 4 free (that’s a lot). Everyone was surprised the amount of time it must have taken to rehearse and the girls’ “gumption” to perform in front of everyone.

Easter morning I divided up the money that had been through at us (in Togo when someone is dancing or performing or singing or whatnot, if you want to appreciate them you press coins or candy to their head) amongst the girls (about 600 CFA, or 45 cfa each, which is about twice what they spend every day on snacks during recess) and also gave them each a religious medal from my stash that my mother sent. Every single time I see one of my girls they are wearing this medal. Once again, just like after Christmas, when I pass the church there are always a few that come out to meet me, shy devotion and gratitude in their eyes, and pride too. They know that what they did/do far exceeded anyone’s expectations. And I was proud of them too, and glad it all turned out ok, considering that rehearsals were very difficult due to conflicting schedules (I got stood up numerous times and finally threatened that if no one came tomorrow then we just wouldn’t have any play at all and how would they feel about that) until I enlisted Simon’s help to start making firm announcements at the end of Mass that they BETTER show up that afternoon; and managing any more than four kids always means chaos. (Imagine a group of fourteen 7 to 14 year olds all chattering in Ewe and correcting each other and goofing off and critiquing and whispering….. I swear I aged ten years during Easter.) But it all turned out ok, and has been added to one of my favorite memories so far.

Village Drama

You think a little African village is sleepy and ignorant and doesn’t have anything going on? This is only a sampling of the drama that I know about, and I barely know anything cause I try not to implicate myself…

My married, old chief (his kids are my age and work in Lomé, his wife lives in Lomé) apparently is courting an apprentice (my age) and is probably setting her up as his mistress (this is hearsay only…). He wants to house her in the house next to Justine IE in my compound and Justine has refused pointblank. The chief doesn’t actually want to go against her wishes, even though she doesn’t have any authority over him, but instead wants her to give her acceptance to this arrangement and now thinks she is being too stubborn and doesn’t miss an opportunity to nag her.
Several men who attend church have more than one wife (not religiously married, obviously) – oh African Catholicism.
The man that Vialé has been in love with for three years broke of his (undercover) relationship with her, saying that Justine went to his family and reiterated that she doesn’t approve and that she will do everything possible to prevent the relationship including she will leave her husband. Now the man (a university student) has completely thrown Vialé over, ignoring her and refusing to return her calls, etc (Wow, sound familiar?). The pain in Vialé’s eyes when she told me this was unbelievable. (But at the same time I was flattered that she told me). However there is NO WAY I am touching this one with a ten-foot pole, or even a twenty foot pole – all Vialé says is that Justine doesn’t like the quartier that the man is from but it’s the same quartier that Simon comes from so I think I’m not getting the whole picture. Vialé won’t confront Justine over it cause she doesn’t want to be insulted. I AM NOT getting in the middle of it and neither of them have asked or expected me to.
When the Committee of Village Development, a committee that is supposed to manage the village, was being elected, Simon and over 80 young people from the church mobilized to elect people they thought would be good for the village. The chief heard about it and called them to his house to warn them not to vote against the man he wanted to become president of the CVD (a distant relative I believe). Fifteen times he called them to his house to admonish them. Simon and his friends didn’t like this man and didn’t think he would work well for the village . The day of the “election” something happened (I’m not exactly sure what – they weren’t notified or something) and the man the chief selected was “elected” president.
An ONG financed the construction of the youth center/library and the pharmacy, planning that in May of this year (IE this month) the village would take over the running and would have learned to be self-sufficient. A year ago Simon and his committee wrote a (unfortunately harsh) letter to the village saying “Attention!” and that the management was in danger of being badly run. They were harshly criticized and there is still bad blood between the two camps (no one likes to be publically critiqued) . But now a year later, there is NO MONEY left in the pharmacy bank account and the funds have not been accounted for. So what Simon predicted, albeit a bit too tactlessly, has come true. Who knows what’s going to happen – as it is even when we supposedly had funding sometimes I was forced (through passive aggressiveness on the part of my homologue) to buy fuel for the generator so I could use the computer, but then the next day everyone would want to watch a soccer match and the money would mysteriously be found to pay for that…
When the dispensaire had been built a few years ago, an interim health worker (until the state could provide one) was proposed from amongst the villagers. The chief refused the choice. (Why the chief should have any say in this matter is a bit unclear, but there you have village politics and obeisance to royalty.) Delphine, the professional midwife who is currently at the dispensaire, was at this time at a private clinic near my house; in the middle of taking annual leave, she suddenly appeared at the dispensary (IE the chief asked her to move over there) and has worked there ever since. To this day, the doctor from the private clinic, whose work she basically abandoned, and Delphine refuse to talk to each other.
And that’s just a sampling….

First of May

The First of May (the workers’ fete) has come and gone. This year, being a bit busier, I wasn’t at every rehearsal for the tailors, but I managed to catch the last few ones, and would always try to participate in their choreographed performances. The last number, a salsa-esque routine, I was there when they first taught it, and managed to pick it up before anyone else mastered it. At which point the tailor teaching us started stomping around (he’s rather melodramatic) and muttering that The yovo could dance so well and how come she was the first one to learn it and the apprentices better pick up their game and didn’t they know the performance was in two days and come on now, just watch and see how Anna does it….. I wore the pagne selected by the tailors (at fetes families or unions or whatever like to wear the same pagne) and Justine and I had the same complet, designed by me. We were cooking at the house till about noon and then showed up at the Catholic school which has nice grounds for fetes; all the tailors had “pot luck” ie we all shared everything and then afterwards we had the performances, marred as usual by some petty drama and misorganization and miscommunication but in the long run nothing unusual…. Around 630 I left because I didn’t feel like walking back in the dark and Justine followed soon after ; it was about this time that the teenagers were showing up to start the “real” party to dance till dawn…. In the morning I talked to Michel and Emmanuel a bit, abandoning Justine (she seemed surprised I wasn’t always there every time she turned around); in the afternoon too Kokoutse and Bogavi showed up and I was thrilled to hang out with them too, which is interesting — I think I’m starting to crave the company of my peers and “friendship” more and more, which you would think at this point in my service I would be getting less lonely and not more lonely… Justine had made me wear a pair of heels I had only worn for my swear-in. Because I danced so much and because my feet are used to wearing Chacos or Tevas or flipflops, all that night I didn’t sleep because I had hurt the bones in my feet so much and the next day was very very difficult for me too. I felt like such a wimp… By Sunday it was all better though J

Things I’m Glad I Bought Back…

When I came back from the States in January, my suitcases were mainly full of presents for my village, but there are certain things I use that every time I do I think about glad I am to have brought them. They are: my jogging shoes that Lizzy gave me and sports bras — without these I probably would have stopped my running a long, long time ago, but I’ve been doing it consistently for 12 weeks now; the AAA-battery run charger for my ipod (in case I can’t get to Vogan to charge it on Friday); the face moisturizer Sophia gave me; Bare Minerals makeup; basically all my “Christmas In January” presents from my sisters; my contact lenses; photos from January ; ……..

I wish I had brought back… more batteries (AAA and AA), sauce packets (like for pasta), hot chocolate/coffee instant packets, little kids’ workbooks, more Tshirts with Americana on them…

You know what I wish I had? A typewriter. I wish I could find one. I HATE writing everything (and I mean everything) by hand!

Vialé

I was hanging out at the youth center when Vialé called to me. “When you’re ready to leave, I have something for you in the dispensaire office.”

“Ooo. What is it? Food? You can show me now!”

Ah yes, a demand for instant gratification…

In the office she handed me an envelope with no name on it. I could feel the papers inside it. She said, “No, open it at home!”

“But why? Can I open it now?”

She hesitated. “OK. Go ahead.” And then, embarrassed, she ducked out of the room.

There was a letter inside the envelope, two sheets of paper covered with careful handwriting. The English translation cannot do it justice but here it is, a shadow of what it meant to read it French and to know instantaneously the sincerity of the words.

April 17 2009

Words of Thanks to the sister Anna H

“….Those who love others fulfill the law.” Romans 13:8

These two fetes at Sevagan would have been a calm moment without the considerable support of our sister from the Peace Corps Anna Harrison who we call “Anna”. I was very surprised and marveled by the open welcome that you have shown our church and in particular to our little girls since your arrival in village . Despite all the difficulties that you find here you have put up with it all everytime we’re all together and with a good attitude; you have worked tirelessly with our little sisters in training them to be dynamic, confident, and able young women, in teaching them your theatre plays. I lack the words to tell you exactly all you have done for our little sisters and not only for them but for the development of our church. You are here without any member of your family but you have taken us like your family. Don’t ever think that you alone; I assure you that God your creator is next to you; ask Him whatever you want and he will give it to you. Only God can thank you enough for what you have done and what you continue to do for us. I have nothing to give you in return; I can never repay you. Only God can give you what you deserve. You are a welcoming, marvelous, dynamic woman. Always have confidence in God. The children too will never, ever, cease to pray for you every day; they will never forget you. That our Virgin Mother protect you from all harm.

Clemence “Vialé”

She kept wandering in and out of the room, waiting patiently for me to be able to speak. But what exactly do you say to gratitude? That it is you who are grateful ? That perhaps it was/is all worth it finally?

Finally I mumbled: “I don’t do anything everyone else wouldn’t do. I don’t deserve it. What I do – it’s no better than anyone else.”

And her eyes flashed and her finger raised angrily.

“Do you think—” And each word was annuciated with passion and conviction, angrily biting off the ends of each syllable “–that before you came here les petits have ever done what you let them do? Do you think that at Christmas and at Easter our little ones perform in front of the congregation like that, every year? Never. It is always les grands, who perform, and who make Adjo cry, like last year, because they refused to let their little sisters dance with them If you weren’t here they would have done nothing. No one has ever, ever believed in them the way you do. Let me tell you something. Do you think they would have ever that courage before you came? The one who played Jesus. Francoise. To hear her speak out like that? Incredible. I have never seen her express herself like that. I teach her in Sunday school. She is always quiet. She is always resting tranquilly. She is not loud. She does not like to talk in front of others. And then to see her play Jesus so well ; to pay no mind to her audience; to remember all those lines; to be so serious. Unbelievable. Because someone believed in her? What you give us is extraordinary. Because you don’t come here to give us money. Instead you have given us your soul and your heart and your love. I know it is difficult for you. And I know I can never repay you. But what you do for us — I will remember it all my life.”

Travel Plans

Next week I’m going to Benin for two days. We are just going to stay in Grand Popo, a beach town near the border, so before I COS I hope to return and visit the historical and cultural sites in Cotonou and Porto Novo; I’m kind of disappointed we’re not doing this the first time around. There is also a park in the north of Benin where you can safari and people have seen lions and elephants and giraffes so I’m hoping to visit there too before September if I can find someone to go with me. (After Sept. I’m not allowed to use my vacation days.) I was also invited to go to Mali and Burkina Faso for about 10 days with two other PCVs (it is their COS trip) and if money permits I would like to join them. That will be at the end of August but I haven’t decided anything, I’m seeing how much to budget first.

And of course Sophia is coming sometime!! =D

PHOTOS : 3 new albums are up!
–World Map Project
–Easter 2009
–Daily Life 2009

Next Friday is 1st May so it is a holiday so I will not be in Vogan, so a new blog post won’t happen till AFTER that.

World Map Etc.

World Map

The next time I’m in Lome I hope to post photos of the World Map Mural project at the collège. The map is halfway done, despite the kids’ having first badly measured the grid (meaning we had to erase the entire thing), and then not paying attention to where they were drawing (hence North America being placed on top of Africa). The project is not exactly as fool-proof as I originally thought it was going to be ; these are not American kids with overwhelming motivation and during the Easter vacation it’s mainly been just me with one or two kids laboring over it….

Justine

Justine has an ovarian fibroma (tumor), as far as I can understand from the French. Which explains why she hasn’t had kids yet. She needs an operation. I’m freaking out. The midwife wants her to go to Afangnan (a good hospital in the Maritime region) but I don’t know when she will go; I’m sure she has to go at least once just to schedule the operation. Who knows how much it will cost (I know that a room alone at the hospital costs $16/day… That’s half of Simon’s monthly salary!) … I told her not to worry about it and we would figure it out but it’s important that she gets it scheduled and then we can find out how much it is and then we can figure it out…..

Easter Play

I’ve been practicing with fifteen little girls for Easter vigil; they are the same ones who did the Christmas play. This time it has been harder because of conflicts with school schedule and also obligations to work in the fields. But, we finally had our first full (to the end!) dress rehearsal on Sunday and I THINK it will all turn out ok, although I don’t think we’ll be able to rehearse again before Easter because I’m on my way up to Atakpame for a Camp Espoir organizational meeting. We’ll see — I made the soldiers spears and a crown of thorns for Jesus and the kids made paper money for Judas’ thirty pieces of silver…. If we can pull it off it will be even better than the Christmas play. But it’s a pretty big IF since the kids keep forgetting that no more than twelve apostles should be on stage at one time, haha…

Fete de Tonu (Tozan)

Back in February was the annual three-day festival on the banks of Lake Togo. I was interesting to reflect on the (inner and outer) differences between this year and last year and everything that has happened in-between.

As with last year much of my experience at the fete revolved around church activites. Unlike last year, there weren’t really any skits of drum playing or traditional dances on the beach – even Togolese kept on saying “Last year was better” or “They shouldn’t have changed the organizing committee.” They didn’t even have the boat races across the lake like they are supposed to. The church-goers did, however, have the lake blessed after a long Mass by the lake, while a tired and hot and hungry PCV hid her ironic glances behind her sunglasses.

“Right! Now that we’re done sprinkling the body of water with holy water, it’s time for lunch, right?” I announced.

“No, no, not yet – we have to march to the road to bless the new crucifix,” Justine replied. She must have seen me flinch. “You stay here and rest. I’ll be back soon.”

I considered. By the lake on the beach was windy and cool, a festive atmosphere. On the other hand, letting Justine out of my sight seemed to be a far worse decision – who knew when she would reappear, and none of her family living on the lake speaks French. Finally we compromised; I left the crowd to buy a snack and, suitably refreshed, made my way down the road to the crucifix which had been completed during the year amid much church drama and village politics. It was far away, but even so by the time I arrived the blessing ceremony continued for another 30 minutes. The crowd shifted on its feet, torn between filial allegiance to their priest and the fact there was no shade and the children were whining to be fed. Sweat ran down my back, my legs, my face. I wondered if I moved if there would be a puddle where I was standing. Before meals and under the African noonday sun is normally about when my tolerance for intercultural exchange and/or religious observance ends.

The afternoon was spent eating rice with Justine’s extended family and generally just people watching. The next day, Sunday, there was no mass in village because there was a mass scheduled at the lake in the afternoon. It should be noted that this year there was a “campaign of evangelization” with preaching and lessons before /after varying masses.

I had work to do, so I promised I would come albeit tardily. But, predictably, when I arrived past 4pm (Mass was supposed to start at 3pm) , nothing had started yet (the priests were late). I muttered a quick prayer of thanks that I’d had the foresight to bring work with me. I pulled it out and roped Justine’s brothers into helping me correct written French in a document I needed to bring to Lomé later that week. I wondered if I could get away with continuing the corrections during mass. I wasn’t ready to go quite that far… but at about 7pm I did finally, for the first time in two years of sitting through countless Masses and religious celebrations in a language that I don’t understand, for hours at a time, snap. I pulled out my novel (wrapped in brown paper to hide the cover – everyone is used to my browsing my English-language Bible when I’m bored, anyway) and blatantly, unashamedly, settled down in my front row seat to read it. Heck, I should have brought War and Peace – I probably would have finished it before mass was over.

The mass turned out to a healing mass. I assumed this meant, like the States, people marching up to the front of the church to get their throats or whatnot blessed. Oh how mistaken I was.

The ceremony turned out to be a combination of Eucharist adoration and a frenzy of speaking in tongues, falling on the ground, and general hysteria. Combined with the fact that it was now past 9pm, dark, I was hungry and tired and increasingly freaked out. Up and down the aisle the priest went with the Host, sometimes snapping his fingers and gesturing at a parishioner who he felt was not gazing with adequate intensity. Sometimes he would put his hand on someone’s head who he felt was in need of healing. Those most affected were picked up by certain volunteers and carried to the back of the tent to recover in peace, sometimes kicking out so violently that it needed two men to transport them there, but their wails and cries and mutterings could still be heard as the evil spirits were expelled. The chaos rose around me like suffocating smoke, and I almost bolted out of the tent. People fell to their knees and swayed with their eyes closed, voices rising up and down in hypnotic scales. There was a six-year-old who had finally succumbed to exhaustion (African kids can sleep anywhere and through anything!) and was using my lap as a pillow, thankfully anchoring me to the bench to keep me from panicking. I kept sane by watching Michel, my favorite “brother”, who was one of the chosen “carriers of people”, and making lists of questions to ask him later (why were the volunteers, for instance, not affected? Answer : They pray beforehand). The hysteria continued for over an hour. I’m unable to describe it adequately , partly because I’ve tried to block it out. That was my first experience with a healing mass (they actually have it once a month in Togoville and people are always inviting me to go) and hopefully it will be my last. There are very few experiences that I deliberately avoid here in Togo, but that was one. I’m a Western Catholic – we tend to frown on chaos. Things are ordered and placed into hour-length time slots and there is rarely a hint of hysteria – prayer is something private to be silently transmitted between you and your God and heaven forbid you disturb your neighbor (or in this case, scare the hell out of her).

It’s all combined – Catholicism with voodoo, love of dramatics with church ceremonies, evangelical Pentecostal-like calling for the spirit while blessing the Body of Christ. All of it intertwined, borrowed and copied from each other, till the lines between the way we worship here in Togo are blurred and fuzzy, separated only by doctrine rather the method of prayer. Hierarchies are well accepted in Togo , and the Church is understood precisely because it follows a hierarchy – the kids coming to catechism lessons every evening (says the school director bitterly, as he sees that less than a quarter of his students are passing their grades), church festivals consisting of prayer sessons from 9pm to 4am, leaving mothers and daughters especially reeling and exhausted the next day as they do their chores, but never, never refusing to go to something at the church, because “c’est necessaire”….

Blog post

Blog post

The rains are back, little by little, and the whole village has been waiting them with bated breath (reminds me of the opening scene in the film Lagaan) so that they can plant corn… We had one big rain last week , and, as I type this in Vogan before going to the internet café (if they don’t cut the electricity), it is pouring again. I’m kicking myself for not closing my windows and putting out buckets before leaving village. I’m out of water and so watching all this rain fall is torture knowing I could have collected a lot. And I’m hoping all my things won’t be soaked by the time I get back to village this evening…

Yesterday I started the World Map Project at the collège. Drawing a large squared, even rectangle on the side of a classroom wall was a little trickier than one would have thought, but after 1 ½ hours we finally succeeded, and it is about three quarters of the way painted in with ocean blue as the background. I plan to finish the rest by myself tomorrow, if I can mix up the same shade again! (Shades of AmeriCorps projects…) Next week we will not be able to work on it because the kids have exams, but the following week, we will then draw a huge grid (over 1500 squares) onto the ocean blue, and start transferring the map of the world onto the rectangle. Once it is all drawn in, the fun paint (painting in the countries) will start. My ‘counterpart’ for this project is the History-Geography teacher, who is very excited about the map. Or maybe he’s just excited that I’m paying for the paints and stuff myself… The map, if we do it correctly, will look awesome. I should had taken pictures yesterday; I’ll try to document the project better. It will be really neat especially because many kids have never seen an entire map of the world, or have had to copy a chalk-drawn one from the blackboard. The school director would like us to finish it before the Easter vacation (two weeks after the exams) but I don’t know if we will succeed or not, since I haven’t yet seen how quickly the kids will be able to drawn the map. That’s going to be the tedious part!

On Monday I will start work at a new, third primary school. It is by the lake and this quartier is a lot poorer than the rest of the village; this is the area that suffered from the floods and always has a lot more health problems (ie, many cholera deaths in 2005 etc); because it is also more remote and removed from the village, it doesn’t get the same kind of attention from outside help that the other schools receive. However, it’s been difficult to work it into my schedule because all the primary schools have the same hours free so I can’t be in three different places at once! Since on Monday the kids at the collège have their exams, I won’t be going there in the afternoon, so this is a nice opportunity to spend the afternoon with this third school at Tonu (lake in Ewe). The school is very excited that I’m coming, I have to decide what session to do with them (the kids always enjoy the First Aid one as an introduction, but I’m tempted to start with Hygiene and Safe Drinking Water, as my village doctor is concerned about possible new cases of cholera he has been suspecting this past week).

The bad part about the rains is now everyone goes to the fields in their spare time, so many times I’ll show up a school ready to work and the kids will have been sent to go work in a professor’s field so I won’t be able to work with them that day. This is annoying when it’s hot and I’ve walked thirty minutes to get to the school. It’s tiring having to constantly make the rounds to all the schools asking “OK… are you going to be here tomorrow? Should I come by? Do you promise to be here?” Sigh.

On Wednesday I’m going up to Pagala to assist with the new volunteers’ In-Service Training. Back on Saturday. So no internet next week.

I’ve been wanting to do an Easter play (remembering the success of the Christmas play) but have been slacking on actually organizing it. Also, the Christmas play was easier because the kids were on vacation; now, up till the week before Easter (although I guess we could throw something together then, rapidement), they are in school and when they are not in school they will be helping their parents in the fields. But we’ll see. Maybe we can just do a few practices at the last minute; after all, the Christmas play wasn’t all that rehearsed (three, four times?).

Apparently I was an item on the agenda on the last tailors’ meeting. I was not present, but Justine told me that they were in the middle of discussing their activities and planning their skits and dances for the First of May fete, and one tailor raised his hand and said “Don’t forget about Anna – last year she knew the performance better than the apprentices themselves, and danced with us at rehearsals, but she didn’t dance at the actual show. This year we should make sure she knows she’s supposed to dance at the show too. ” Ummm….

Fika continues to do well. He has yet to ever sleep on my knees or curl up on my lap, but he is always right next to me under my feet. The only time he is affectionate is at night and in the morning before I get out of bed; he sleeps on top of my head and buries his chin in my hair; if I move, he gets up and burrows his nose into my hair again and purrs his heart out. Once I’m out of bed, though, he will not cuddle again until the late evening. He is slowly getting used to Justine – he is a lot less adventurous (or bossy) than Koko, and hasn’t even expressed interest in going into Justine’s house.

Yesterday she scolded me for giving fish to Fika (meat is for humans; if you give protein to cats they learn to steal…) and I said, “But – sometimes you would give the fishheads to Koko!” She drew herself up indignantly. “That is different. Koko was my friend,” she replied with dignity.

Justine and Fika have yet to decide their relationship – she plays with him and gives him food, and this past week he has been shamelessly flirting with her in order to win her over, but before that I think she was mildly offended that he was not instantly obsessed with her like Koko was (Fika won’t come out of my compound if I’m not there). Lately we both have been reminiscing about Koko – Justine will start off: “If Koko were here he would be sitting on my lap while I am making pate….” Or “Remember how Koko would scold us if we didn’t put out his food right away?” But, I think Fika is slowly winning her over; I had to leave him alone last week, and next week I will be up in Pagala for four days so I am sure they will continue to bond without me there…

Photos posted

New photos are up, at the regular link; the album is called “February 2009″ and has pictures of Fika and the festival at the lake…

Goats and Catholics

The goat has been sick for a while – monts and months, with bony hips that stick out showing the hollowness of his sides, and a tumor-like growth as big as his head that hangs from the underside of his belly.

« You know, » Kokoutsé said to Bogavi in Ewe, then translating for my benefit, looking at the goat speculatively, « maybe a charlatan got to him. » The two teenaged boys leaned back and prepared to go on with their game of checkers. I demanded an explanation.

« Well, sometimes the feticheurs want to do something bad to a person. But they don’t know if it will work. So they’ll send the bad thing to affect an animals first, to see if the spell works. »

« So it’s not intended against anyone in our household ? No one is trying to cast a spell on us or anything, right ? » I asked.

Kokoutsé made the deep noise in the back of his throat that means No. We sat in silence.

« Unless…. » he started again. « Unless… sometimes, if they want to send evil onto a person, but that person is a believing, practicing Christian, the evil can’t touch them. So it wil go to an animal instead. »

There you have it – African Catholicism, so deeply intertwined with voodoo and black magic that, unlike the West, Togolese Catholics don’t reject the uncanny and the unnatural. Rather, they believe their God is stronger than other gods or the forces of the voodoo and that the Holy Spirit surrounds them with armour. Forces of good and evil coexist to such an extent that sometimes you cannot tell where one ends and the other finishes, and you are forced to merely trust that as long as you have done your duty and gone to church with a calm and believing heart, then God will figure out the difference for you and prevent devils from touching you….