Hello, My Name is Not Yovo

As a foreigner one of the first things you’ll notice is that many people, particularly children call you “yovo”.  This word literally means “white” in local language and it is frequently shouted whenever I or any other white person passes by.

Having “yovo” shouted at you from across the street, in the market, and well everywhere you go can be very tiring.  Some people are making an attempt to actually speak to me, but others seem to be shouting just to shout at me.  Not being able to blend in and being noticed and pointed out all the time is really what gets to me, not the word yovo in particular.

The Peace Corps makes efforts to decrease the amount of yovoing that occurs by sensitizing our Togolese trainers, host families, and counterparts to the impoliteness of calling us yovos.  Many people here, however, do not understand what could be wrong with calling someone what they are. 

In the US, not pointing out peoples’ differences and not labeling people is one of those things that is emphasized to American children.  A two-headed man can walk down the streets and it’s true that people will take a second look, but if a child points out that person they would be scolded.  Thanks to our history skin color or race can be a particularly touchy topic, but in a place that doesn’t have the same tumultuous past of racial issues, the idea of labeling someone by the color of their skin doesn’t register as offensive.

One of my fellow volunteers provided me with a hypothesis about yovo that I rather liked.  The Togolese are very accustomed to labels in general.  An individual in this culture is known by their profession or other notable characteristic: A doctor is “doctor” and a teacher is “teacher.” Labels create an understandable place for an individual in the community and it is not rude and even needed in this culture.  Extending a custom of labeling people to the rarity that is a white person finds a place for this new person.  This stranger is the “white man” with a label and a place.  Even with a possible way of understanding the behavior I can’t help but still be annoyed by being shouted at all the time.

When I came for my post visit to Vogan during stage I was greeted by a welcome committee made up of a number of individuals who I may end up working with.  My homologue explained to the committee about not calling me “yovo” and one teacher in response told me not to get angry with the children who call me “yovo” because children are taught to call white people yoyo from a young age with a little song of “yovo yovo bonsoir…”  I found myself giving a speech that sounded so much like something from the era of civil rights I almost had to laugh at myself.  I told them that I understood, but that I wanted to be known for the work I do and who I am, not by the color of my skin.

However, it is not only children who call me “yovo” but also many adults and not all of them with the innocent please the children get by singing a song.  I do my best not to get angry at these people and to explain that it is impolite to address me as “yovo.”  For those who shout “yovo” at me I tell them that if they want to speak with me they can call me madam or by my name that I do not respond to “yovo.”  There are a few people who have latched onto the idea and there are even a number of Togolese community members who will correct others that call me “yovo.” 

There is no stopping everyone from calling me “yovo,” but it I can’t help being affected by it.  I suppose I just want to be treated like anyone else.  Every other woman is addressed as “madame” if someone wishes to speak with them.  I want to receive the same treatment as every other person and not be singled out.  Being me, but still part of the crowd is definitely something I miss about America, a country built on diversity.