Squeaky Clean

There are a few things I have learned about the Togolese; one is that they like to be very clean in both home and body.  Here you are expected to bathe two or three times a day and some host mothers have been known to brag about how wonderfully clean their volunteer is if they bathe a few times a day. 

I can understand the desire to bathe more than once in the day.  It can be immensely hot and humid during the day and getting sweaty is unavoidable.  For some reason it also just seems to be easier to get dirty here.  With dirt roads and no grass everything gets very dusty very fast and I have not felt so grimy so often in a long time.

Making a clean house and property is another high priority.  Everyday the whole house is swept along with the yard.  As diligent as Americans are with tending their lawn, my Togolese family makes sure their open space of dirt is smooth and debris free.  This diligence towards cleanliness, however, does not extend beyond ones own space. 

All of Togo is a trash can.  In Togo the idea of a dump or trash collection is nearly nonexistent.  Togolese families dump their trash just off their living space and roads and public spaces are littered with garbage.  Shower water and animal feces are also included in the rubbish.  Plastic bags are often the largest portion of the trash in the streets.  Every purchase is placed into a black plastic bag, drinks are served in plastic baggies, and ice cream treats come in a small plastic packet.  All of this packaging and all other trash is just tossed in the street.

Not only is all the garbage odorous and ugly it also poses major health issues.  Excessive amounts of waste makes areas for water to pool creating breeding grounds for mosquitoes.  In a region plagued with the most deadly types of malaria, minimizing the breeding mosquitoes is of immense importance.

The spread of diarrheal and parasitic diseases is also increased by high levels of pollution.  Animal dung and waste water tossed into the streets impacts water sources and acts as a reservoir for disease that people walk though and play in every day.

It would seem that finding a way to get people to take as much pride in their communities and country as they do in their own homes would help solve this problem.  But without the resources dedicated toward garbage collection and a place to put trash you cannot expect people to stop just throwing their trash on the ground.

It's a Boy! (July 18, 2011)

Last night my sixteen year old sister gave birth to a baby boy.  While I had noticed that she was pregnant we had never discussed it.  In the middle of the night I was awoken by the screams of labor and the arrival of the midwife and some female family members.  I was not included in the birth itself, but was handed the baby in the morning.

My sister does not have a man in her life, and is/was an apprentice with a tailor.  Having a baby means she will have to pay a fine to her master and potentially lose her apprenticeship.  Her father also just came to speak to me because he does not know who the father of the baby is and my sister will not say who it is.  As surprising as it might be, he was actually coming to me for advice.  He explained to me how without knowing the father there is no means of supporting a new baby and with a baby Mary cannot continue to work making two mouths to feed for my father, not just one.  All I could tell him was to talk to her explain what he has to me.  Be honest and open and hopefully she will see the importance of sharing who the father is. 

Unfortunately my sister is not unique in her situation.  There are many young girls who become pregnant while in school or an apprenticeship, and after becoming pregnant can no longer work or continue school.  They become dependent on there families or if they are lucky the man who got them pregnant will marry them.

Beyond not being aware of contraceptives women here are regarded sadly as very cheap.  Men convince young girls to have sex with them by offering gifts like cell phones and tragically the girls think that that’s all they are worth.  These practices have also been institutionalized at schools where young women can struggle to get an education, not only combating economic pressure and the stresses of school that affect everyone but also the pressure to have sexual relationships with their teachers.

Coming from the US it is obscene to think of a teacher having sex with his young students.  A teacher is supposed to be someone who a student can trust to guide them in their decisions, and encourage a student’s success.  In Togo, however, it is common for teachers to solicit sex from their students.  Whether by offering a good grade, or threatening failure, teachers enter into sexual relationships that are extremely damaging to a young girl’s success in school.  This contributes to distractions that lead to poorer performance in school and to drop out rates.

Scarily though, there is no understanding that these types of behaviors hurt these young girls.  The men who participate are no inherently bad people, but it is seen as a man’s right to have a woman.  It is a cultural issue that cannot be solved simply by encouraging women to stay in school or use contraceptives, but the mentality of the worth and role of women must be changed and demonstrate the ways that a man’s behavior negatively impacts women and consequently many other aspects of society.  

A Diplomatic Enlightenment

Prior to coming to Togo I tried to do some research on the country, but honestly there isn’t much literature out there.  With limited information, a history of a military dictatorship, and stereotypes about other African nations it was easy to make assumptions.  On paper Togo looks like a pretty typical third world country and it doesn’t really stand out one way or another.

Actually being in the country provides a new perspective, but it is still a limited one.  Living in country we have been able to hear the perspectives of our Togolese trainers and families, but it is rare to hear an American perspective on Togo.  The other day, however, the soon to be retired American ambassador to Togo came to talk to us about the history and political climate in Togo.

While I can’t much discuss the politics of Togo, I was very interested in the American perspective on the recent elections that were tightly controlled through international efforts (In spite of the efforts made there are still a few people who believed the elections to have been fraudulent). 

In some ways though, it is actually the lack of international and specifically American presence in Togo that I found so interesting.  Unlike all three bordering countries (Ghana, Benin, and Burkina Faso) Togo receives nearly no aid from the US and has been left out of other international aid projects.  Togo is a country stuck in the middle.  Including health there are many areas in which Togo desperately needs improvement, but there are few places that Togo sticks out.  Fortunately and unfortunately Togo does not currently stand out.  There are no genocides, military coups, terrorist threats, or massive HIV/AIDS epidemics, but also few development prospects.  There are few things that are perfect in Togo, but it seems that according to various aid funds there is even less really really wrong.

Being left behind in receiving aid has left Togo in a vulnerable spot as the countries surrounding it advance with international help.  Togo has been making efforts to not be left behind.  It seeks to not fall victim to receiving the crime that is pushed out of bordering countries.  While there is still a long way to go, the efforts are a step in the right direction

A Carb Cuisine

In southern Togo the cuisine staple is pate (sounds like the French word for pasta).  Pate is corn flour prepared with boiling water to make a thick paste.  Bits of this paste are then taken in the hand and dipped into a small amount of sauce.  Without sauce pate can be rather bland but many Togolese seem to love pate.  My sister Mary even said that if she didn’t eat pate she’d die.  She was referring to how filling pate is. 

It is true that pate provides a decent amount of energy as carbohydrates are oft to do, but these carbohydrate meals provide little else.  Roughly 90% of the diet is Togo is carbohydrates.  If pate is not eaten at a meal it’s replaced with another carb, whether it be pasta (called “spaghetti” or “maca”-roni here sine the French word for pasta is the same as pate), rice, bread, or yams (pounded into a stick paste call fou fou).

Another passion for food is oil.  Much of what is eaten here is fried.  Before every dinner I get from my host mother an appetizer of fried yams, plantains, sweet potato, or other root (Taro etc.).  On the street women sell fried dough, fried bananas, fried tofu, and other fried pastries.   

In addition to frying foods oil is used heavily in many of the sauces.  The base of many of the sauces is vegetable oil or even healthier, with much saturated fat, palm oil.  It is rare to eat vegetables and proteins and the sauces tend to be limited to tomatoes, onions, and okra. Thankfully the Peace Corps has explained that we Americans need more veggies and protein than that to be healthy.  In spite of this 85% of my diet is empty carbs.  I have been so lucky as to have a carb trifecta for a meal with fried yams, bread, and pasta, don’t forget the oil poured on top...

My mother also feeds me an incredible amount.  There may be a stereotype that Jewish mothers provide an endless supply of tasty food to her children and guests, but you haven’t met a Togolese woman yet.  You are expected to have third and fourth helpings of everything.  I am given fried treats before each meal and as snacks throughout the day.  I am given a giant bowl of pasta or pate and I’m expected to eat it all and they tease me if I don’t finish.

A lack of food security is something often associated with African nations and malnourished stick-thin children.  But it is often not a lack of food that is the main problem but a lack of quality foods.  Eating carbohydrates and fats alone provides energy but doesn’t provide the nutrients needed to build a strong body or immune system.  Like my sister said, people are under the impression that pate and other carbs are the key to health and productivity in the fields.  But it’s not providing a higher quantity of food, but providing higher quality of food that is important.  Providing high quality foods and educating people about the importance of a diverse diet that also incorporates fruits, vegetables, and proteins is the key to health not just a larger quantity of food.  

A New Home (June 7, 2011)

After our introductory lessons in Lomé we are headed north about 45 mins to our training sites where we’ll be spending the next nine weeks.  SED is being placed in the regional capital of Tsevie (chev-e-ay) and the CHAP volunteers are placed in a farming community Gbatope (bah-toe-pay) 6km away.  I’ve been told that our training sites are foreshadowing our posts in the future.  The SED volunteers are in a city, have electricity, running water and ready access to the internet, market, post office, and other amenities afforded by a big city.  In Gbatope the community only received electricity a few months before we arrived and only a few of us volunteers are living in homes that have electricity (myself not included).  

Here in Gbatope I live with a host family on their farm a little outside of town.  I have five siblings ranging from the age of 18 to 7, Jean is 18, Mary is 16, Adjo is 15, Victorine “Victo” is 11 and Ansin who is 7.  In addition, my father’s sister, his aunt, and a cousin have houses on the compound.   Along with the five children in my immediate family there are four others ages 1.5, 5, 6, and 12.

Joining the fifteen humans there are sheep, ducks, chickens that roam freely, and a donkey.  The donkey is a novelty for the southern region of Maritime.  Donkeys are much more common up north in the Savannes region.  When asking what family I live with people they know it as “the one with the donkey.”  Donkeys are pretty strange animals and the braying adds to the cacophony that’s ever present on the farm.

The main house, where I have a room, is a cement building with three bedrooms, a living room, a washroom, and a front porch that spans the width of the house.  Without electricity or running water, there is an outside kitchen which consists of a palm frond canopy over an earthen stove and a small charcoal stove.  Another small wood building with a tin roof serves as storage for all the kitchen implements and a place to escape the rain during meal times.

Also on the compound are two small two room cement houses with tin roofs and one house made of bricks from the dark red mud found in the area.  I also have a small private walled in bamboo latrine/ shower area outside.  It’s here I get to take bucket showers under the stars while being eaten alive by mosquitoes.

This is where I’ll be calling home while I’m in training.  The Peace Corps places us with host families as a crash course in cultural integration and I’m excited to get to know my family, but with language barriers it can be tough to live with a new family.

First Impressions: Lomé (June 3, 2011)

When we arrived, around 7pm, in the capital it was already dark.  That didn’t keep it from being ridiculously hot.  Coming from the weather of Upstate New York where it hasn’t gotten over 75 degrees, 95 with humidity roughly equivalent to being in a swimming pool feels only slightly oppressive.

From the stairs off the plane we were shepherded through the presidential entrance, surely a place that the majority of people passing through the airport.  From there we were piled into trucks and brought to a hotel where we were sat down in the near darkness of a bamboo courtyard of sand and the Peace Corps nurse went down the row handing each a pill.  This may have been the beginning of our anti-malarial prophylaxis but then again if the pill had been blue instead of beige it may have been the beginning of the matrix.  We took the pill and soon enough we’d wake up to a world outside the Matrix of fast-food restaurants, hybrid cars, and Super Walmarts.

After my assumptions about what a third world country would be, I was pleasantly surprised by my room in the hotel.  I had my own bathroom and pretty close to a normal bed.  While I can’t say exactly what I was expecting; maybe a latrine outside? No running water?  Not electricity and a fan in my room…  One thing I did expect though was the mosquito net I’ll be sleeping under for the next two years.  I can’t help but be reminded of those tent forts you put up over your bed as a kid. 

At 2 am it was still over 90 degrees in my room and even with a fan I spent the night perspiring.  If I thought I had melted as much as I possibly could, I was wrong, when I stepped out into the sun.  During the five minute walk to the Peace Corps bureau, I’m pretty sure I that I started burning after the first two minutes.

The part of the city I got to see on the short walk to the bureau was sandy streets and cement walls.  On first look it was hard to see the difference between commercial establishments and personal homes.  There are a few stands set up selling local foods and some small items.  There are kids everywhere roaming the streets without shoes.

Over the next four days we once again received a few shots in each arm and I continued to melt.  We spent the days learning about Togo and the PC policies, most of all we were cautioned not to go near the beach, which was just a block from the PC main office.  The beach is a hotspot for crime in the city and it is not only at night that people are mugged.  From afar the beach looks like a picturesque tropical paradise, but with a closer look you can see the pipe of raw sewage streaming into the waves.  There won’t be any beach vacationing in Togo for me…

From the beginning (June 2, 2011)

Before heading out to Togo I’ve met up with twenty-two other Peace Corps volunteers in Philadelphia, Pa.  The volunteers will be working in one of two subject areas, CHAP (Community Health and AIDS Prevention) and SED (…I don’t actually know the acronym, but it’s for business development).  These are two out of the four programs that the Peace Corps operates in Togo.  The other two being: GEE (Girls Education and Empowerment) and NRM (Natural Resource Management).

In Philly we met up for last minute preparations; a few vaccinations, more than a few signatures, and a focusing session on what to expect, and what we expect, for our service.  I didn’t know what to expect, with limited information on Togo and only a vague sense of the actual work I’d be doing in this ‘third world country’, all I can do is enjoy my last shower, swim in the soft sheets and let my head sink into the fluffy pillow—for one thing, I know I don’t expect to have a real shower or bed for two years.

The next day after a final bowl of the American classic of Fruit Loops, we are piled onto a bus and sent out ALONE to JFK to catch our flight and begin the well over twenty hour journey to Lomé, Togo.  As an aside, going and communicating to Togo is an expensive affair.  My one way ticket through Paris was well over $2,000 and even the cheapest phone call to Togo is around $0.40 per minute.  This is a stark contrast to other West African countries that border Togo.  Ghana, a country that the capital of Togo (Lomé) literally borders, costs over a thousand dollars less to fly there, phone calls cost 50% less and good old snail mail is cheaper too.  These  things mean limited communication or maybe another piece of the adventure.

A journey over three continents is plenty of time to ponder what I’m thinking traveling a few thousand miles to live in a mud hut, no electricity, no water… that may be part of the allure, just jump right in, but twenty hours can feel like an awfully long time to drop not knowing what you are going to land in. I'm off Togo here I come.

It's only been a little while...

Well, this is embarrassing!  I have been in Togo for nearly 4 months and I have not successfully made a single post to this blog.  Without a computer to type up posts, a foreign keyboard, and limited access to a slow internet connection has proven to be too much of an obstacle for me.  From now on though, with the addition of my own private computer and an internet key, things are going to change. 

While the time line may begin a little distorted, I hope to get up to speed and be more consistent with posts as my service continues.  So, sorry for the long absence, but from here on I’m yours.