Liz Spectacular!

Life’s a stage, or at least it became one when I moved to Togo. Based on the reaction I get from the communities in which I live and work, I may very well be deserving of a primetime slot as their very own one woman sit-com—Though, I may fall more into the category of the slapstick humor of the three stooges more than anything else.

Based on my unique appearance I have long grown used to being stared and shouted at, but it is really only just dawning on me that I may very well be the most talented, funniest, and the clumsiest person in Togo. You may well remember the Liz from the U.S. being very much average, maybe a little clumsy, but not really TV quality material. What, you may ask, have I been smoking? Well if you had just had the morning I did and really the last year I’ve been living you may very well form the same opinion of yourself.

This morning I visited two villages in order to talk about HIV/AIDS.  I said “hello, my name is Yawavi” (my local name). I got hoots and a big round of applause, and then I blew them away with a good old explanation of my job, that one got a song in response. I was speaking the same language a three-year-old speaks here and probably at an even lower level, but with every Ewe word out of my mouth it’s like I have given a rousing speech, or maybe announced I was about to give everyone free candy. I can simply ask someone how things are going and there is a ripple through the crowd exclaiming how incredible it is. The only logical conclusion is that since coming to Togo I have become more eloquent and inspired in my speech.

In order to animate the crowed and lure villagers from their homes we asked a few traditional music groups to play their drums and sing. This of course leads to dancing, and believe you me, when I get up to dance it is a revelation everyone hugs me and shouts for joy. During events I often join in with the women dancing.  I follow along and hope that I break into fast dancing at the right time. Everyone wants to dance with me, and even those just spectating split into grins and give me a few good pats. Conclusion, it may just be that I am an awesome dancer.

Now alongside my previously mentioned talents of oration and dance, is the talent of being able to make everyone say “doucement” nearly every other word. “Doucement” translates into “be careful” and is said whenever anyone has an accident or nearly one or for me anytime I move. If I kick a clod of dirt as I walk, “doucement!” if I take a big step down a hill, “doucement!” if I step to the side to avoid being hit by a moto, “doucement!” if I slightly move a chair so that it scrapes on the floor, “doucement!” if the colleague I’m walking with stumbles slightly...silence, if I stumble slightly, “doucement!” Really I might as well accept that I have the making of the next slapstick humor star.

Everywhere I go I have a spotlight shining on me and I cannot do or say the simplest things without an audience. I am a one woman circus performing amazing feats of language and movement. While I can pretend that I’m under the big top wowing crowds with my tricks, I know that more likely than not I am actually in the sideshow tent.  I am alongside the dog walking on its hind legs and a singing parrot, but at least I’m getting laughs and smiles. For a limited time only it’s a Liz Spectacular!

If You See Something, Say Something

There are many things we take for granted in the U.S., one of them being our school system.  While there are many ways in which our system could be improved, we are very lucky to have it.  It’s not just that schooling is available to every child regardless of income, but that our schools often provide an experience that is beyond solely wrought memorization of the material itself. 

Our children are encouraged far beyond just being a text book of state mandated material. Students are more often than not taught to think deeper about the material presented; a history lesson isn't just names and dates that need to remembered, but a lesson about our past and how it has impacted us today, and how it could impact our future. We have extracurricular activities that encourage teamwork, communication, community involvement, and creativity such as athletics, debate, Model UN, Amnesty International, and art club.  Although some of these activities fall under threat when cutting budgets is concerned, our students and teacher benefit immensely from the fact that most of these clubs and activities are budgeted right into our school system. It is with opportunities like these that our students are encouraged to be leaders and where passionate educators can reach out beyond the classroom to inspire students.

We can sometimes take for granted these resources that are available to us when we are young. It’s easy to think that, “Of course I’m able to stay after school and solve math problems with my fellow mathletes under the tutelage of our math teacher.” But in some places, not everyone—really almost no one—has the opportunity to ever experience an extracurricular activity. In the school system of Togo there aren't the resources to pay the teachers much less buy a ball for a soccer team. Without property taxes like in the U.S., school in Togo isn’t free for every student and often teachers make barely enough to live on. While it may seem cheap and easy for a group of students to get together and discuss politics after school, think about how difficult it could be to even give your time if you had to work a second job to feed your family or work in the field to help you family pay for your school fees.

When students do get an opportunity to use their skills outside of the classroom it is wonderful to see their enthusiasm.  This past Saturday we finished up a three day peer-educator training for 35 students and five teachers from five middle and high schools in the area. We covered topics ranging from basic reproductive anatomy and discrimination to how to run a club and present material to other students.  Much of what was covered is something that students never get the opportunity see or do.

The main topic of our training was HIV/AIDS.  In Togo, AIDS is a disease that gains a foothold thanks to the fear surrounding the disease.  HIV/AIDS is a disease that can really only be fought with awareness, including testing and knowing how and when to take preventative measures. There is hardly any dialogue about HIV/AIDS in Togo and often if you host a talk about AIDS people will actively avoid participation because it makes them uncomfortable. There also exists a significant amount of stigmatization associated with people living with HIV/AIDS and discrimination can make people avoid being associated with the disease in any way.  People are also not aware of medications available free from the government or other measures they can take to keep from getting ill, making people feel that HIV is an immediate death sentence. This creates a big obstacle to getting people to get tested for the disease.  Without knowing their status people can unwittingly spread the disease to their partners and children. Not knowing your status can also mean you are not getting the treatment you need to stay healthy and delay the progression to AIDS.

In our training we attempted to tackle all the issues that could present obstacles to the students being able to inform their peers about HIV/AIDS.  We gave them the technical information on the disease, how you can contract it, and how to prevent its spread.  We also gave them techniques to use to talk of HIV/AIDS (as well as other topics) and spoke about the obstacles that arise, like stigmatization and discrimination.

I had the opportunity to lead the session about discrimination. We spoke about why discrimination occurs and the impact it has on the people discriminated, particularly focusing on the impact as related to HIV/AIDS.  As peer-educators, and now enlightened individuals I told them that they must stand up to discrimination and educate people on why they shouldn't discriminate against people with HIV (or any person for that matter).  I came up with a nice and catchy slogan to encourage the students to not be passive in the face of discrimination.  The slogan was, “If you see something, say something.” You know, I thought I was pretty creative making such a catchy and easy to remember mantra, but about ¾ the way through I realized where I’d heard it before. That just happens to be the slogan of the anti-terrorism signs posted in the NYC subways, among other places. Congratulations homeland security, your message has reached Togo. Well, at least the students seemed to understand what I was getting at.

This week we are introducing the participants as trained peer-educators to their fellow students and teachers. In each of the five schools an anti-AIDS club is going to be formed to provide an opportunity for those students trained to reach out to their peers and their community, hopefully creating a dialogue about HIV/AIDS and helping to halting the spread of the disease.

A Different World

Some pagne clothing and coconuts on the side of the road helped remind me that I was still in West Africa as I drove to Ghana, a world that seemed so different from Togo. Living in Togo, my view of West Africa has been fairly narrow and in my mind I cannot help but imagine the entire region being very similar to Togo. It is true that I had the opportunity to travel to Senegal, but being ushered around for a conference didn’t let me fully appreciate how different from Togo it was. Last week though, I took a short vacation to Ghana and I was blown away by how developed the country was compared to the West African stereotype I had formed in my mind.

Right across the border you notice the difference.  Not being crammed into a van meant for twelve--holding eighteen, and no stomach churning swerving to avoid pot holes. The roads were in perfect condition. Now, Ghana has installed these pesky speed bumps outside all there towns that serve to slow down traffic and when you sit over the wheel in a van, bounce you around so you can’t nap on the trip in, but speed bumps aside it was impressive to see such nicely paved roads throughout Ghana, when not even our capital city has more than a handful of paved roads. Travel in Togo can be tiring and dangerous as road conditions keep vehicles moving slowly and swerving around, sometimes even off the road itself, to avoid large holes, but in Ghana the roads were a vacation in themselves.

It is true that I spent my time on the southern coast in the capital of Accra and a tourist spot of Cape Coast, so I saw the most developed areas of Ghana, so my view is a bit biased, but I have heard that even in other areas of the country, while more similar to Togo, still have much better infrastructure including good roads.  Because of the bias of my view of Ghana I don’t want to generalize too much, but after being in Togo for over a year, Ghana is basically America or maybe somewhere in Europe. 

Travellers who go to Ghana first may say that Ghana is poorly developed and not nearly on par with an American city, but coming from Togo, Ghana is a whole different world.  Roads are well paved, there is not garbage in the street, sewer systems and street drainage exist, there are nice restaurants, a mall, and a movie theatre—all things that do not exist in Togo (or do to a very very limited extent).

Traveling to Ghana was very much a vacation. We primarily travelled to Ghana to participate in the marathon, but in Accra we ate sushi, went to a movie, drank smoothies, went shopping, and I managed to wear nice clothing without getting covered in dirt and sand.  As you may remember from my previous complaining about the weather, climate really impacts my happiness, well, Accra to the rescue! While being positioned on the coast as is Lomé, it was less humid than where I live inland and I could wear jeans and a sweater at night. Cape Coast was similar and the breeze off the ocean was heavenly. For seemingly similarly positioned cities it is amazing how different the weather.  It made me very happy and comfortable.

Our time in Accra was full of good food and relaxing, but also a run of 26.2 miles.  OK, I didn’t run, I carried water, but Peace Corps represented itself well with one of our volunteers taking second place in the women’s full marathon and another volunteer taking 10^th in the women’s half marathon. We also had another volunteer run a great half-marathon and a past volunteer finish a full.  I was impressed at how after running so much they got right back up and we explored Accra, shopped and eating another great meal.

After Accra a friend and I ventured further west to Cape Coast to play on the beach and visit one of the forts used during the slave trade.  The castle was very interesting and thinking about the people who passed through its dungeons is haunting.  The horrors that occurred at the castle have been preserved in a museum and through reconstruction of the fort, providing a reminder of the atrocities that people are capable of, that we should never forget them and together we must never let them occur again.

Beyond the fort, Cape Coast was a nice tourist town with a lot of tasty street food. We explored the streets eating shrimp, squid, lobster, sausage (in Togo “sausage” in synonymous with hotdog, no real sausage included) and much more.  We really over ate, but it was so good! Cold beverages were plentiful, and the local ice cream on the street (Fan Milk) has a strawberry flavor not available in Togo.  There were a number of nice shops and we bought some beautiful batik pagne (hand printed fabric).  I will soon have a much expanded wardrobe, no more wearing the same outfit over and over.  

It wasn’t just food and shopping either. We took naps by the beach and played in the ocean (though the surf can be pretty rough).  It was a wonderful little vacation. While, we couldn’t stay at some of the ritzier beach resorts, our hotel by the beach was still a nice spot and I could make a habit of taking those naps in the ocean breeze.  But alas, it’s back to home, back to Togo.

The Results Are In

The randomly selected villages
surveyed.

Nearly eight months since its initial inception, the project to evaluate last October’s bed net distribution has finally come to a close. We have trained five trainers, 53 Peace Corps Volunteers, and 141 Togolese counterparts, 198 villages were surveyed, 6,015 households visited, 36,471 people counted, and two papers written—one in French and one in English.

It was way back in February that the partnership between Peace Corps Togo and a number of organizations working in Togo was initially suggested.  With months of back and forth communication, but little progress towards actually cementing the relationship and beginning the project it felt like it would never come to fruition.  But alas, it is finally done!

Working with a number of large organizations and the government to establish a project was at times very trying.  While working with large international organizations can lead to a wide-reaching and successful project, sometimes getting everything going takes much patience. Four months past of back and forth e-mails before all parties involved could agree on a meeting. After the first meeting each partner had different comments on how things should be executed and some of those suggestions came as contradictions to each other.

Representatives from our partners who worked
with us on the piloting committee.

As we hoped to get moving on the project before the a large group of volunteers started to complete their service and leave the country, even after our second meeting things felt to be moving very slowly as we waited for the agreed funds to arrive.  As soon as our funding came in though, we were a flurry of activity with hardly two weeks passing before we began training for the survey.  Giving volunteers and their teams time to survey and submit their data it was a month and a half before we got started on our analysis.

While we found that the campaign did not quite succeed in its endeavor achieve “universal coverage” which is defined as one Long Lasting Insecticide-Treated Net (LLIN) for every 1.8 people, ending with one LLIN for every 2.22 people, we found other interesting results that showed the success of the campaign and where some improvement could be needed. The campaign did help to achieve the Plan National de Développement Sanitaire (National Health Development Plan) of 2012-2015’s goals of having 71.4% of pregnant women and 75.4% of children under-5 sleeping in Togo under a bed net, however, in my own region, Maritime, the goal was not achieved for pregnant women as net usage was lower in Maritime than the other regions.

Before the campaign only 40% of households owned even one net, but after the distribution over 93% of households had received at least one net.  Close to 75% of bed nets were hung up for use and a little over 71% of people surveyed reported that they slept under a net the night before, though in Maritime only 63% of people slept under a net..  Pregnant women and children under five years of age were more likely to sleep under a net than the general population.  As they are a target population because of their susceptibility to malaria, it is a positive sign to see that they are sleeping under bed nets—likely indicating that previous efforts directed at them have had some success.

People’s knowledge of malaria seemed to be pretty high and the majority of people were able to identify the correct cause of malaria, though even for some who gave the right answer they also gave an incorrect response, including drinking dirty water and working too hard in the sun, thus showing that there is room for improvement in education and that there may be a lack of understanding to as to how to differentiate between malaria and other fever causing illnesses.  Besides an insufficient quantity of nets, one of the main reasons for not sleeping under a net was that it wasn’t hung at the time, including that it was being wash, there wasn’t space in the house and that people did not know how to hang a net, further indicating the need for more education as to proper care and use of a bed net.

All of our results went into two papers that were presented to our partners.  We also gave a presentation of our results to Peace Corps administrators and attended a meeting with the Minister of Health, the Director of WHO Togo, and a representative of UNICEF. The last meeting that was on Monday rounded up the conclusion of our work. 

Now that we are done I feel very put-out.  We spent so many hours planning and executing the project that these few weeks before my next project begins have seemed very empty, though, I am exceedingly happy to be back in Vogan for a while.  My partners here have been very understanding of my work outside of Vogan, but now we are very excited to refocus on our projects here at home.

Yep, That’s Happening

I was recently reading an article that discussed some of the negative implications of the Sex Offender Registry Act, one being that there end up being a number of individuals who are placed on the list due to crimes such as public urination.  As I was reading this I laughed out loud, not because I find sex offenders funny, but because I thought of the absurdity of trying to implement a similar policy where I live now.  If the Sex Offender Registry existed in Togo and had the same side effects of the act in the U.S., roughly every single man in Togo would be on the registry.

Public urination is entirely common here in Togo.  It is mostly men who frequently urinate in public, though when on long voyages women will as well.  Women tend to be a bit more discrete, but men will just whip it out wherever they are and whoever is around. On some walls you find signs spray painted on saying “deffense d’uriner,” but everyone continues to urinate publicly.  To my American sensibilities it can be sometimes shocking as I am walking down the street and a man shouts my name to say hello and start a conversation only to see that at the time he is holding his penis and urinating. All I can really do to cope is acknowledge to myself that, “yep, that’s happening” and I just shout “hello,” look the other way and hurry on.

Some men are more discrete and find a spot in the bushes, but there are some more brazen, and in Lomé I have passed one man literally standing in the middle street urinating.  There are those Togolese that oppose this common behavior and recognize its dirtiness, but there are no facilities really to give people an option not to do so.  There are very few public restrooms to be found here.  A few villages have constructed public latrines, but not many.  Bars often only have a “urinoir” or basically a walled in piece of ground to pee on. With cultural habits it is also unlikely that someone would ever ask to use another person’s restroom, especially if it is inside their house.

I know I’ve battled with the lack of public restrooms, particularly if I am ever out of my house for the whole day or traveling.  I find myself avoiding drinking water to limit the chances I’ll have need of a restroom and have found myself with a dehydration headache at the end of long work days.  The gender difference with this issue is quite evident and male volunteers end up having a much easier time as it is appropriate socially for them to urinate in public, but for women the general rule is to hold it until you get home.  You know, you don’t want to get put on that registry for showing your bum in public or anything!

Je Vois la Vie en Savanes

A couple of weeks ago I ventured up to what may well be one of the most beautiful places in Togo.  I took a couple of days off to travel north to the Savannah “Savanes” region to see a good friend.  It was, and unfortunately probably will be, my only time that I have visited the most northern region of Togo.  After spending over a year living in the relatively flat and often seeming characterless southern region of Maritime, Savanes was wonderful to see. 

Now, my deeming Savanes as being the most beautiful in Togo is a bit colored by the fact that I saw the region during the rainy season, when it is its most lush, and that I haven’t yet seen some of the most noted beautiful places like the waterfalls in Badou. But seeing it still made me wish I had been placed up there so that, even for part of the year, I could be surrounded by so much beauty.

At the time I went there happened to be a group of volunteers visiting Savanes and we rented a car to go see one of the few official tourist sites in Togo, the Nano caves.  We were dropped off at the bottom of a rocky crag of a mountain and took ourselves on a self-guided hike, which led us through a number of rice patties and cornfields, to the top.  The hike took about two hours, but by the time we were three quarters of the way up we had to stop for a break, at which point some women from the village below carrying large containers of a local beverage on their heads and not wearing shoes overtook us, even though we started out a good time before them.  We may have felt a little ashamed, but we quickly settled into that reality as we took our second rest.  I could have easily predicted such a thing, I currently live in a very flat life where I go months at a time without even mounting two stairs at a time, I ride my bike and walk around town, but beyond some rolling hills there isn’t really anything to climb, and the hike’s ascent was pretty steep and I just wasn't prepared (flip flops and all) for the hike.

At the top an expert from the local village showed us down a rickety ladder of welded rebar to the caves that are found in the mountainside.  These low ceilinged caves were inhabited in the 14^th century when warring ethnic groups drove people to flee to safe hiding places.  The caves still have the clay granaries used at the time, and our guide so thoughtfully pointed out the flat rock which was definitely used for milling grain, and the other flat rock where the elders sat and had their war council. The caves really are quite interesting and a clever hiding spot, but I couldn't imagine living there and not being able to stand up straight for months at a time.

Our driver was kind enough to drive up to the top of the mountain to bring us back down to the regional capital of Dapaong, where my friend is posted and the other volunteers were staying, so that we could wage a losing battle with a bar’s TV to watch the Olympics.  A day later I found myself back in good ol’ Maritime. I rarely get out of my post to do anything besides work and visiting the north, though it was very short, was a wonderful little vacation where I got to see a great person, eat some good food and demonstrate my complete lack vertical climbing endurance.  Je Vois la Vie en Savanes.

Not Here, Not Now

I’m usually a pretty big zombie movie fan.  It can be an interesting subject to think about and I enjoy imagining how I’d fare if this unlikely scenario was to occur.  Besides an old sports injury that would keep me from sprinting away too quickly, I figure I could hold it together and could survive maybe a little above average-ly well. 

But this afternoon I found myself thinking, “Please don’t let there be a zombie apocalypse while I am here in Africa. Not here, not now.” –OK, yes maybe thinking about zombie apocalypses may not always be categorized under normal activities, but I have a lot of time alone, so work with me here—Why did I find myself saying this? Because, I am almost 95% certain that I would not survive a zombie attack while I am here in Togo.

First of all I have no weapons.  If I was forced to defend myself from a zombie I would be out of luck.  Taking stock of what I would be able to find in my house: a frying pan, which I’m pretty sure the handle is going to fall off soon, so just a few whacks and I’m done for; and a hammer, a little too close range for my comfort; in a pinch I could probably grab my bench and use that but none of the options are optimal.  I have none of the typical sports or lawn equipment that represents the typical weapon choice and there is a zero percent chance I that will happen upon some avid hunter’s gun collection.  There are extremely few guns in Togo and hardly any private citizens own or possess a gun.  Some security guards and military personnel carry guns, but from what I understand bullets are often not included. So, in a fight to defend myself I’m basically handing myself over on a plate.

Actually escaping would be pretty much as impossible as defending myself. Particularly during the rainy season, roads can be impassible on a normal day, much less one with zombies. Roads are often barely wide enough for two cars and one overturned truck would block the only road to get where you are going.  There aren’t very many cars in good condition around either.

 With many windows that are cracked or don’t close, when your car inevitably stalls you are dinner in a take-out box.  There would be no stopping them from breaking the already weakened windows or clambering right into your lap as you reach for the window crank only to find it doesn’t exist.  And don’t bother trying to make a dash for it, the door you need to leave though probably doesn’t open or at the very least needs to be opened from the outside.  One positive note though is that you are unlikely to fumble with keys when trying to escape; many cars are old and the keys have been lost, so they are hotwired to run—just pinch the wires sticking out of the dashboard together and away you go!

In every zombie film the heroes are running to somewhere. They choose a spot they think may be safe and set that as their goal. I have no clue where I would try to run.  I am not familiar with the official or secure buildings in Togo or its surrounding countries and would be hopelessly lost.  I guess I may head for the U.S.  Embassy, they have marines and a building that is more soundly built than my own house.

If I wanted to hunker down and hope for it to blow over I’d be at great risk because my house itself is not an ideal zombie proof hideout.  You may think, “but Liz you have a walled in compound. Surely that will stop them!” My wall is maybe six and a half feet tall, and I have myself contemplated climbing over it when I have been locked out at night a couple of times. With a few zombie bodies piled up against it, it would be a cake walk to amble your zombie-self right over it.

My door would likely provide little to no extra protection, as I am quite sure a small child could break it down if they put a little effort into it.  The weight of a zombie horde would definitely be too much for my already splintered door to bear. I wouldn’t even be able to try the “be quiet and everything would be alright” tactic, because every sound in my compound is amplified ten times. I can hear my neighbors brush their teeth, one move and those flesh eaters would know I was in here.  On a positive note I do have bars on my windows, so at least they wouldn’t get in there.

Finally, I don’t know if I could mentally take a zombie apocalypse.  A while back I got my hands on the second half of the first season of the Walking Dead and I haven’t been able to bring myself to watch it; I get to the truck being turned over in the first scene and I’m done. I rather like the show,  and watched it alone and at night plenty back home, but I feel too uneasy to watch it by myself here. I think it’s from being so far from my friends and family and being in a country where I can’t talk to half the population, it has sapped a lot of my confidence and mental stability.   If I can’t hold it together enough for a TV show, how would I ever be able to survive a zombie attack?

I would never wish for a zombie apocalypse, but if there ever is going to be one, let it happen once I back home, where at the very least Matt could try to save me with his self-professed awesome zombie survival skills.

Being a Peeping Tom, I Mean Surveyor

Planning the survey and organizing the training for volunteers and host country nationals was only part of my work in the evaluation of the bed net distribution of last year.  Even as one of the organizers I still participated in the survey itself.  My team of four, myself and three counterparts, had four villages we had to go out and survey.

The first day we all went out together to one of the villages to make sure we all were on the same page with the instructions and to each practice interviewing a household.  While we got a later start than we had planned everything else went pretty smoothly.  Except for a drizzle here and there the rain held off while we did our survey and we were able to get finished in the early afternoon.

This first village was incredible; nearly everyone possessed a bed net, had them hung and reported the whole family sleeping under the nets.  Honestly I was sort of surprised (in a good way) I rarely get to see inside the bedroom of my community members and with everyone behind walls in my city I don’t even get to play role of Peeping Tom to peer through windows and see if there are nets. My only experience with malaria and bed nets had been prior to the campaign, and the campaign itself fell into that awkward period when I was just moving into my town and hadn’t really established any personal or work relationships.

Everyone also seemed to know why it was important to use a mosquito net and how malaria is transmitted. You often hear of people believing that eating too many mangoes, working in the sun, or drinking dirty water gave you malaria, but everyone seemed to know that it was caused by mosquitos.  One man let us know that he used to believe that it was something you ate that gave you malaria, but after the campaign he now understood that it was mosquitoes. Having him say that he had his mind changed about the cause of the disease was encouraging because surely there were others like him that were once mistaken but now understand malaria a little better.

The second day of surveying our team split up into two letting us complete two villages in one day.  These villages were not nearly as encouraging as the first.  Those we surveyed still sighted mosquitos as the cause of malaria, so at least there was some understanding of the disease, but very few people were using mosquito nets.  There were people who didn’t receive enough nets for their entire family, or who were traveling on one of the days and missed getting nets all together, but the bigger issue was just people not using the nets they had.  Very few people had their nets hung at all and the majority said they didn’t sleep under the nets.  Some said they were just too tired to hang it, others said there were no mosquitos, and one woman said she refused to use the one she did receive because she was angry that she didn’t receive a second for the other members of her family.  Further still there seemed to be a lack of understanding about how to use the nets.  One woman said she wrapped herself in it like a sheet she’d go to sleep in.  The man I was with asked her to demonstrate and she through it over her head and laid down wrapped up head to foot like a mummy.  My surveying partner couldn’t help but be discouraged and kept sighing heavily every time we found another family not using their nets.

With our fourth village my surveying team decided that they all wanted to do the village together, but this time I sat out in order to save money on transportation costs.  This village seemed much like the second two, there were nets but people weren’t using them.  I had been excited for the first village and the apparent success of the campaign in all aspects, but out of my cluster of villages it seemed to be the exception instead of the rule.  I cannot know about the bigger picture in Togo until we do our final analysis, but it was interesting to see other villages besides my own and get to peer into a bunch of people’s bedrooms. 

Phase One (mostly) Complete

Just about two months ago it was confirmed that Peace Corps Togo would be the independent evaluator for the Global Fund funded mosquito net distribution that occurred last October in all regions of Togo (excluding one piece of the Maritime region).  Togo received roughly 70million dollars from the Global Fund to complete last year's bed net distribution and 20million dollars more has been promised if the first phase of the distribution goes well.  To determine if the distribution went well, and to give the organizations and the government who distributed the nets an idea of how close they came to reaching their goals, an independent evaluator is needed (A.K.A. us).

With funding from the WHO, UNICEF, and Plan Togo, two other volunteers and I were chosen to lead the study.   Our task was to perform a nation-wide survey of households to determine bed net usage, how many more nets are needed to achieve the goal of universal coverage, and of course the effectiveness of the bed net distribution itself.  To do this we have organized six trainings for Peace Corps volunteers and their Togolese counterparts to educate about the importance of the collection of good data and the protocol for performing the survey.  With five regional trainings (one for each region) and training for the trainers we will have trained over 220 people in everything from why this survey needs to be done, to what is bias, to how to ask a question.  The majority of these trainings occurred this Monday, except Savanes which is a week later, and the Training of Trainers which was a week earlier, all of which seem to have gone pretty well. 

I am glad Monday is over. Leading up to these trainings we have been working tirelessly booking hotels, writing manuals, negotiating budgets, creating computer programs, mapping villages to be surveyed, and so much more.  There were days that I would come into the office around 6:30am and not leave ‘til midnight, only to show up again the next morning at six.  I spent three straight days staring at a map on the med-unit wall, because it was the only map available that had on it (nearly) all the villages I needed.  It has been a tiring couple of months and it is nice to have a good portion of our work over with.

After these regional trainings, volunteers and their counterparts will go out to their assigned villages and perform a survey of household in those communities.  Once the surveys are completed volunteers will send us their data and we will compile our report analyzing the results.  Until we begin to get data back from the volunteers we have a little break where we will get to think about our report in a more relaxed setting, and I will finally get to return to my own bed and will no longer be sharing a cot the size of a twin bed with another volunteer or eating street food every night of the week.

For now we must wait to see if our survey goes well. I’m hoping for some good data and lots of bed net use!

A Machine that Does Your Laundry

Wow, a laundry machine, who would have thunk it?  I believe I have said that after hand washing my clothes for over a year I will never complain about doing the laundry again back home in the States.  Yesterday confirmed that.

A couple of weeks ago one of our Peace Corps Togo organizations Gender and Development (GAD) had an auction to raise money to support gender related projects and one of our medical staff donated five loads of laundry in her laundry machine, and I won.  I redeemed by first load yesterday morning. It was awesome.

I stuck my clothes into the machine, added a little soap, and pushed a button.  A couple hours later I moved my clothes to the dryer and BAM! my clothes were clean.  No blistered fingers, cracked skin, or aching back necessary.  I lounged around read my book and napped.

And can I talk further about that amazing out of the dryer feel?  That warmth that is so dry it is cozy? I was sweating as I folded my clothes, but I wanted to wrap myself in my freshly laundered clothes and I don’t know, just cuddle with them.  It was great.  If I had the plumbing hook up I might have gone right then and there and bought myself a laundry machine and dryer.

Heaven. 

A Year Down With Many Changes

Yesterday marked the one year anniversary of my arrival here in Togo.  Since my arrival here much has changed and I want to share some of the changes that have occurred between when I first got here and now.

Eighty degrees is cold.  When I first arrived the heat killed me.  The first few nights we spent in Lomé I hardly slept because I was too hot.  As a native Northerner I never thought I could ever get used to the heat.  Of course I still get hot, but the other day I was feeling distinctively cold and when I looked at my thermometer it was a whopping 82 degrees.

I feel naked wearing anything that exposes my knees.  Like a typical young American, back in the States during the summer I wore shorts and skirts that fell above my knees.  I rarely had a second thought about having my knees exposed in an everyday casual setting, but here I never wear anything that doesn’t fall below my knee.  I have one dress that is below my knee, but as a result of slit positioning, if it is windy they skirt will slightly rise to or above my knee and I am constantly pulling my dress down.  Even with my fellow Americans, wearing shorts feels bizarre. Being anywhere in public and having my knees exposed I feel like I am walking around in my underwear.

If it’s not spicy it’s not food.  I ate some spicy things and had no problem tolerating them when I was back home, but my more typical daily cuisine usually didn’t include hot peppers (“piment”).  Now, even when I am cooking for myself, nearly all my food must be spicy.  I add piment to everything.  As ubiquitous as salt normally is to bring out flavor in a dish, for me, piment is in everything.

Waking up at 7am is sleeping in.  I have never been a morning person; I much prefer spending most of my waking hours at night.  At the beginning of my time here it was much the same; I needed an alarm clock to get up for my morning lessons and meetings, but now anything much later than 5:30am is sleeping late.  Part of this is that my neighbors somehow manage to wake up just before the sun begins to rise around 4:30am and they make a fair amount of noise or play music early in the morning.  Everything here seems to get going earlier than back home.  Businesses open around 7:30am instead of 9am and having an early morning meeting is not out of normal.  In some ways I hope the habit of waking up early continues when I return home so that heading to work at 9am doesn’t feel so much like torture.

This is by no means an exhaustive list of how things have changed since I have been here but they are some of the most apparent.  I still have a year here and plenty of time to settle even more into my Togo life ways.  I am interested to see what the next year has in store.

C’est Mon Choix

As a result of a number of contributing factors, teen pregnancy is a significant issue here in Togo.  Many young people feel pressure from peers to engage in sexual activity, rumors run rampant about the dynamics of sex and love, girls get bribed into having sex for gifts, teens often receive no education about their developing bodies, and there is little awareness about contraceptive options available.  

Partly for these reasons, as part of my rounds talking about family planning, I of course found myself talking to students about not having children until they have finished their studies and were ready to support a family.  I found that talking to students is a bit different than talking to adults.  With such a mix of ages and maturity levels, getting students to participate can be a challenge and talking of sex can set the group into nervous giggles.

This time around I was with a team of Red Cross workers.  We began by explaining why waiting to have children is important for them as students, followed by a brief discussion about using contraception if they do choose to have sex.  At this point the school director who had been lurking in the doorway cut in. He spoke of abstinence and that it was the only method of family planning the students were to use.  Later when we were saying our thanks and goodbyes in his office, the director brought up once again—to the Red Cross director of their HIV/AIDS program—that he should not be talking condom use with students, only abstinence.  He “knew his students, and if you open the door just a little there will be a flood of sexual activity.”

The school director is not alone in his thinking about teaching “abstinence-only” to students.  In the U.S. there have been a number of pushes to implement this type of sex-ed in public schools; even withdrawing funding from school who choose to teach about condom use and other contraception.  Distributed by PSI, the slogan “L’Abstinence, C’est Mon Choix” (Abstinence, That’s My Choice) can be found on billboards and T-shirts all over Togo.  And these believers in abstinence are right, the only surefire way of avoiding teen pregnancy and the spread of STIs is by having teens abstain from sexual activity, but abstinence-only is also misguided in its belief that talking about sex and contraception will cause teens to start having sex.

I for one—someone who started getting a sex-ed, including contraction, in middle school—can attest that, upon hearing that things such as condoms could keep me from getting pregnant or a nasty STI, I did not run off to have sex.  Assuming that contraceptives are the key towards teens starting their sex lives is very naive, and over-estimates the amount of thinking that goes into some teenagers’ sex lives.  Yes, we very much want to think that the number one concern of a newly sexually active young person is their health and babies, but in reality when that moment strikes, if they have never been educated to think about protecting themselves, they won’t.

The reality is that teenagers often mature sexually before they do mentally.  Unfortunately teenage sex is not a decision purely driven by a logical assessment of the possible consequences of their behavior, no matter how many times someone tells them, just say no.   There are of course many youth who do abstain from sexual activity, but it isn’t because they have never discussed sex or contraception.

Youth should be taught to value their bodies and wait to have sex until they are mature enough to evaluate the consequences, but a balance needs to be struck.  Even if we close our eyes and pretend it doesn’t exist or hope desperately that it will just go away, time has shown us that teen sex happens.  In Togo teen pregnancy is a large contributor to girls not finishing school and apprenticeships.  It is not because someone didn’t tell them not to have sex that they became pregnant, it is because they were never told to use contraception. We need to show these youths, who—besides our pressure for abstinence—still choose to have sex, how to protect themselves and avoid having to suffer from the very real consequences of unprotected sex.

Grab the Cooking Pot Too!

It rained this morning, no, it poured.  Usually the rain seems to calm everything down as everyone runs to seek shelter, but not my compound, not today.

Our pump is broken and we have been living without water for just about a week.  Some of my Peace Corps friends may give me a, “boohoo, you poor thing.” As they live without running water everyday, but being used to running water and being unprepared to not have running water can be somewhat more of a hassle.  Now I am not completely unprepared; my water situation has been notoriously finicky and after a few times of wanting to cook or take a shower and having no water I have started keeping a large plastic trash can filled with water.  But that water store is not meant to last for weeks at a time and my water supply is becoming perilously low.   Do not worry that when my water runs out it perilously means death—there is another pump a few hundred meters away—it just means a little more lugging of water.

Other than our privately owned pump we do not have any other super conveniently close water source.  So when it rained we all jumped into a flurry of action.  Unlike my host family who had cisterns to collect rainwater our compound is hopelessly pump-bound, but that didn’t stop us from making the most of heavy rains.

At the inside corners of the U that is our building, where the roof comes together, there is an amazing spigot of water when it rains and we all took advantage of it.  Grabbing our buckets, bowls, and as my neighbor shouted, “Grab the cooking pot too!” we filled up as much as we could with water.  I hastily washed some dishes and did some laundry so that I could run out and collect more water.  Only the littlest ones sat back dry and laughing as everyone else dashed around filling one container then the next.  I managed to finish with three large buckets of water after doing a load of laundry and my stack of dishes.  I am so glad for that rain.  Though I’m still hoping my pump will be fixed soon, it is a relief to know that I have a few more days’ worth of water.  

Everybody Was Kung-Fu Fighting

There is a young girl about the age of three in my compound.  She lives with her two grandmothers and a teenage relative.  As you may or may not know about me I am not a big kid person.  We get along fine, but I tire quickly and really could do without.  This little girl though is quite adorable.  She directs all visitors—even those not here to see me—to my door, and shouts my name and runs over to pet me every time I catch her eye.  For all this cuteness, though, she is one of the most annoying and temper-tantrum prone children I have ever dealt with.

Within seconds her laughter turns to rage if things don’t go her way.  If it is meal time and her grandmother comes over to collect her she quickly throws herself against the wall beating her little fists and screaming.  Sometimes she screams and cries for hours on end.  If you’ve talked to me on the phone you’ve probably heard her, she is by no means quiet.  I feel for the women who care for her, who must be at least well into their seventies.

A few weeks ago when I returned home from traveling she seemed worse than ever.  I heard louder and more frequent tantrums; I hadn’t thought she could or would get worse.  For near a week I went about my evenings thinking this little girl had amplified her screaming, until I ventured over to share a snack of fruit and a woman emerged from the house leading a boy of about ten years.  The boy, Kossi, and his mother had been living in the house for the past week, I had never seen them, but boy had I heard them. It had been the young boy’s screams I had contributed my little girl. 

Upon seeing Kossi I felt a profound sadness and sympathy for his mother; he was visibly mentally handicapped.  While a handicapped child anywhere can be a great hardship for a parent, here there is nothing for these children.  Unlike in the U.S. there are absolutely no resources for families with handicapped children.  With no counselors or teachers specializing in mental disabilities and no state funded support, families are left to fend for themselves.  Without a halfway house or a way to earn money, as they get older and their families can no longer care for them, many of these mentally handicapped individuals are left on their own; becoming a town fou, living in rags, and begging around town.

As an outsider and childless I cannot imagine the strain this boy’s mother is under.  I don’t even take care of him and I have already grown weary of my 4:45am wake-up call as Kossi pounds on our metal gate screaming to be let out of the compound.  I flinch as he hits the other children or naively steals things from their hands, leaving them in tears.  I got annoyed at a little girl’s relatively normal tantrums and his were so much worse.  To feel that desperation that you cannot take care of you little boy forever and that he will never be able to take care of himself, I can hardly imagine.

The other day as I sat on my porch and Kossi played in the courtyard, he picked up a stick and began to practice his Kung-Fu.  It was such a normal and endearing thing for an ten year old boy to be doing I had to smile and when I looked over I saw Kossi’s mother leaning in the doorway eyes content on her son and a soft smile on her lips.  I was wrong when I said there was nothing here in Togo for the mentally handicapped, through it all there is still the patience and love of their families.  For all the screaming, hardships, and such uncertain future, you could still see how much Kossi’s mother loved him.  We can all hope that as things develop more options, support, and resources will become available to families such as his, but for now there is always his mother’s embrace and of course a little Kung-Fu fighting.

Talking Trash

This morning my homologue told me he slept much better last night than he had all week. Yesterday marked the last day of a three day training we gave for seventy community leaders on the importance of community waste management and public waste bins. After all the planning and worries that it wouldn’t go smoothly it was relaxing to finally have it over with, but there is still much more to do.

The three days of training were only the first phase in a project to install public waste bins in Vogan.  With the help of the mayor and the director of Hygiene and Sanitation for the prefecture of Vo we sought to educate the community leaders (including all Chefs du Quartiers among others) on why public waste bins are important and how they, as community leaders, can help make this project a success.  The appreciation for the project was evident in the participation we received at the trainings, and of course everyone wanted a bin in their quartier.

Felicity and Delphine with an example bin.

As of now we are installing sixteen public waste bins around the city in locations that are most frequented, such as the marché and public areas of assembly.  We have had a local welder make the bins and we hope to get them all installed later this month. With the availability of public waste bins we hope to encourage people to place their trash in the bins rather than tossing it on the street. 

Installing the bins is, however, not the hardest part of this project; it is going to be getting people to actually use the bins. Simply having public bins and a trash collection program in place doesn’t make people use them.  It is habit for nearly everyone to toss their empty water containers and plastic bags on the ground and simply toss household trash into a pile next to the house.  Hopefully the community will recognize the importance of a clean city and the bins will catch on and people won’t simply toss their trash at their feet. 

To achieve this behavior change we trained community leaders, are having radio public service announcements, and are even working with the mayor to institute fines to those found littering.  With the community’s participation I hope that we can make Vogan a cleaner city and that after we have set the example for the first few bins that the community will take the initiative to make them multiply.

Without the help of many of my Togolese partners, and the community itself, I would not be able to make this project be a success, because as I so tackily said is my speech at the training, “It is not the waste bins that will create the change, but the people of the community.”

Let's Do a Little Planning

In the past month I have seen more of my prefecture Vo (comparable to a county) than I ever thought I would, and all of it was from the back of my counterpart’s motorcycle.  From our journeys I am convinced my counterpart, Fogan, knows everyone in the prefecture or possibly just that he really really likes to wave and honk his horn.  I have seen Vo’s phosphate mines and fields of manioc, napped under the trees, and stumbled off the moto with stiff legs, but most of all I have been able to speak with rural villages all over the prefecture about family planning.

In my work here in Vogan I have been so lucky as to pair up with a local NGO—ASFECDI—that works with health and women’s rights.  Much of their work is with sixty-one different farming cooperative groups (groupements) around the prefecture of Vo; promoting women’s leadership and helping to connect these rural agriculture groups to sources of micro financing.  For the past month ASFECDI has assisted me in working with these rural groups in another way—through educating about family planning—an endeavor the NGO hopes to continue after I leave.

For those of you a little rusty on what family planning is: Family planning is making the active decision of how many children you want and when you want them.

Along with Fogan and two women from the NGO, Felicity and Delfine, I have visited about four to six groupements every week to explain the advantages of family planning and the planning methods available in Togo.  We tag-team answering questions and getting the group involved with a small sketch, and of course my three Togolese coworkers serve as my translators for local language.

Having a large number of children is ingrained in much of the culture and expectations of Togolese, but the importance of spacing births is an idea that is easily grasped once it has been suggested.  Many people are eager to share their experiences with having too many children and their own bits of wisdom about the importance of family planning.  There are of course concerns about family planning and we receive many questions.

Most questions pertain to rumors and side effects of using hormonal contraceptives and other concerns about effects of future children and fertility, but there are also some questions that are a bit different.  The rumors people hear about using contraception can be amazingly bizarre and once they become comfortable people ask questions very freely. I have been asked by one man about his wife becoming a loose woman once she can have sex without the fear of having children, who would pay for the parents’ funerals if there were only a few children, having a child born with an IUD in its head if the mother uses that method, and whether or not I personally enjoy sex with a condom.

After our work is done each groupement insists on giving us a meal or drink as a thank you for giving our time.  After a long day I have been stuffed with food I can’t refuse, though at least it keeps me from having to cook that day   Thanks to another day of groupements that fabricate sodebe (the local hard liquor) I have returned home from work hung over for the first time in my life, granted with the heat it is very easy to become hung over.  All day long I was offered shots of liquor and to refuse would have been very impolite.  Thankfully, I wasn’t the one driving!

Having closely spaced births is a problem that is very common in Togo.  Without knowing how or why to space births many Togolese, particularly many of the rural subsistence farmers, suffer a huge burden by having more children than they can fully support.  Not using family planning can have a significant negative impact, not only on the family itself, but on society.  Family planning is one of those things that if used can make other behavior and development changes easier to accomplish.  Many of the Togolese I have spoken with recognize the problem and I hope will begin using family planning or talking about it with their children and peers. 

You may have notice that family planning and access to contraception has been a hot topic in the U.S. the past few months.  I don’t want to get political, but I just want to let it be known that according to Togolese law all women are guaranteed access to contraception and family planning tools.  It is true that in practice this may not always be the case… but seriously, come on U.S.

“About the most massively useful thing”

Some local ladies rockin' pagne.

If you have ever read Douglas Adams’ The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy you know that Adams has said that, “A towel is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can't see it, it can't see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.” 

I think Adams may have been a little confused; I think he meant to say “pagne is about the most massively useful thing.”  Pagne [pon-ya] is a colorful cloth that many people in West African countries use to make their clothes and really use it for everything else.  My preference is for the good looking handmade African-made pagne called batik.

Of course I have clothes made of pagne, but I also have some spare pagne around for everything else in my life.  I use pagne for a sheet, for a towel, a wrap to throw on and walk around my compound, a cover for my couch, curtains, table cloth, a rag to clean up, a head scarf, and a baby carrier.  Pagne is an item I always pack when I am traveling.  It is so utilitarian I wonder how I ever functioned without it back in the states.  I suppose I had a dozen different things back home that served the function of this one item.  It’s nice to grab just one thing to do it all, maybe using pagne will be one of those things I bring back home with me.

Every Child Deserves a 5th Birthday

April 25^th is world malaria day, and along with Stomp Out Malaria April is blog about malaria month. 

Here in much of Sub-Saharan Africa malaria is the number one killer of children under the age of five.  In many regions of Togo malaria represents approximately 60% of all childhood deaths.  Eliminating malaria in Africa would represent an opportunity for thousands of children every year to celebrate their fifth birthday.

The effects of malaria reach far beyond the thousands of deaths it causes every year.  Everyday kids can’t go to school and people are kept out of work all thanks to malaria.  With cyclic fever, chills, vomiting, diarrhea, and malaise, who can blame anyone for not being able to head into work?  As a result, malaria endemic countries suffer huge losses in GDP and productivity every year.  Malaria is a serious illness with resounding consequences, but it is something we can ameliorate.

You say “well that’s tragic, but what possibly could I, someone thousands of miles away from Africa, have to do with combating malaria?”  Just knowing that the issue exists is a step towards eradication.  Did you know that the U.S. used to be endemic with malaria?  It was as or more prevalent in North America than malaria is currently in Africa, but with focused efforts we eliminated it from the continent.  The same can be done in Africa, especially with the new tools we have.

There are of course always opportunities to give charitably, there are continuously campaigns to distribute the highly effective insecticide impregnated mosquito nets, but you don’t have to give money to help the cause.  Just be aware of the issue, talk about it, and read about what is happening in the world of malaria and you can help make a difference, too.

Renew, Reuse, Recycle

Since a very young age I have been shaped and molded into a recycler.  For me separating plastics, metal, glass, and paper has become second nature or quite possibly a compulsion.  In the U.S. my compulsions are satisfied easily enough; recycling is made so convenient, I can drop off soda cans and bottles at my grocery store, trash collection picks up my separate bins of paper and plastic, and separate trash bins are provided on the street.  Such recycling opportunities are not available here in Togo and I am suffering.

In my kitchen I have a bag for tin cans, a bag for plastic bottles, a bag for paper, a place for used batteries, a bin of compostables, and recently I’ve even added a bag for toilet paper rolls.  If I was back home I could take all these things to the dump and have them whisked away to a recycling plant, but here they sit in my house causing me anxiety every time I see them. 

I am involved with a project establishing a trash collection in Vogan and soon we will be installing public waste bins around the city.  However, even convincing people of the importance of not throwing all their garbage into the street can be a challenge, much less recycle.  We have discussed implementing composting to reduce the amount of waste that enters a landfill, but beyond that there is little to no option for recycling.  We could ask people to separate their trash, but no recycling plant exists, we would simply be making a more organized trash pile.  There are some women who melt down tin cans into cooking pots, but that’s it.

We volunteers have tried to recycle in our own way, particularly for dangerous things like batteries.  In the office we have a bin for dead batteries and whenever someone ventures back to a developed country they are asked to take a handful of batteries to recycle.  The little pill bottles the med unit sends vitamins in can also be sent back for reuse.  Among other acts of recyclable material creativity, at post volunteers use tomato paste cans for making candles and water bottles for hand washing stations.

Maybe the potential use of these materials has also contributed my hoarding.  In addition to the act of tossing my cans and bottles onto the ground being unimaginable, I can’t toss things because they may be useful one day—this is my explanation for even creating a place for toilet paper rolls.  In a place without the convenience of Walmart or Home Depot you never know when a random little doodad may be needed and you have to build it yourself.

My longing to recycle and my resulting compulsion of hoarding is painful.  Probably one of the most persisting discomforts of life here is not being able to dispose of my trash in an environmentally friendly way.  It may sound silly to be so uncomfortable about not recycling, but when you know better and are directly faced with your own waste management it’s tough.  If I had a list of things I miss from the States waste management would definitely be there. Just be grateful that you get the opportunity to recycle, it’s good for the environment and you get the opportunity of not having your very own trash heap.

A Raw Food Diet

No, don’t worry, I have not picked up some new age diet. I have simply run out of cooking fuel.  When I was first being settled into my site I chose to buy myself a two burner gas stove and propane tank.  A gas stove is a significant convenience over the alternatives of a charcoal stove or a kerosene one.  Theoretically for me it is even more convenient as I have a gas station in my city that sells the propane tanks I need. 

This would be a simple bike ride down the road, if they ever had gas in stock.  With cooking three meals a day and a bit of baking to boot, last Saturday represents the second time I have used up my gas.  The first time I used up my fuel I was told it would be two weeks before more gas would arrive in Vogan and I quickly caved and had my tank refilled in Lomé.  This time, however, I did not want to go through that same hassle, and besides I was told more gas would arrive this past Wednesday, and then I was told it would arrive today (Friday) and now…maybe Monday? He’ll give me a call.

An unpredictable delivery schedule and my sheer laziness have placed me on a raw food diet, or to not confuse it with the fad diet, a diet consisting of raw foods aka I don’t cook ‘em.  There is street food available in town, but it is a bit of a hike to get to them and frankly I just don’t want to leave my house for every meal.  Before I realized it would be such a long time until I had fuel, I happily lived off my honey milk balls.  Oh yeah, oatmeal, peanut butter, powdered milk, and honey mixed into delicious goodness.  I unfortunately ran out of honey very quickly and while I still do it, plain peanut butter mixed with dry oatmeal is not as good.  As a healthier option though and to use the vegetables I had in my house I moved onto some glorified cole slaw. I have much cabbage, beets and carrots in my house—add a little vinegar and mustard and you have yourself a slaw, vary it a little with some soy sauce and you have a new one. For other meals bananas and avocados do just fine.

Searching for ideas for tasty foods I don’t have to cook, I came across recipes for people following the “raw food diet,” but besides an avocado chocolate pudding (yeah, sounds strange right? But is pretty good) very few of the recipes were useful at all because of all the bizarre ingredients they asked for. Where am I to get ground yellow flax, lucuma, and almond pulp?  I was really a bit disappointed and found no magical use for my peanut butter or cabbage. 

So, I am left with my slaw and my oatmeal.  But I will tough this one out, I am finding myself stubborn and giddy at the prospect of the challenge.  Now I just need to find a way to use those dozen eggs I bought just before running out of cooking power.  Maybe I’ll pick up body building and make myself some crazy raw egg protein energy drinks!  Six days and counting!

The Little Things

Today was a good day.  No, I did not solve some serious health problem or complete a big project, today was a good day because I found olive oil in one of Vogan’s stores.  No more cooking with regular old vegetable oil for me! Oddly enough it was tucked away in the isle with beauty products.  I don’t understand, but I’ll go with it.  In my excitement I purchased a little more at the store than I was planning on when I went in.  I even treated myself to ice cold Fanta from the store’s fridge.

Adding to the excitement of olive oil is the fact that the three year old girl in my compound has officially stopped calling me “yovo.”  Thanks to her grandmother always talking about me as the “yovo,” she picked up the habit, but no more.  It has taken a lot of work, and thankfully much help from my neighbors, but now she happily shouts “Liss!” every time I appear.  She “helps” me push my bike across the compound and runs ahead to open the gate.  As a bike away she continues to shout “Liss” and laugh hysterically when I turn around and wave.  I hear her calling out long after I disappear from sight.  Now, I am not a big ‘kid person,’ but it is nice to hear someone happily calling after me, not screaming “yovo.”

If olive oil was the ice cream and Liss being the whipped cream, the cherry on top was discovering that one of the banks in town accepts my bank card.  My bank card has no Visa attached to it or other company and I had always thought and been told that it wouldn’t work in any ATM besides those belonging to my bank, well…I was wrong!  Being able to use an ATM locally means that I can now save roughly 3,000CFA and four hours of my time every time I need to go to the bank.  Pretty soon I will have absolutely no excuse to leave Vogan.

It’s true that a big event like professional success could make my days seem much better, but in the end it is the little things that make a day seem so much better.  Just the same, the little things can make an empirically good day seem like a terrible one.  So, thank you olive oil, banks, Fanta, and little children for tipping the scales and making this day a good one.

Heat Index Bliss

I think we all expect to learn something about ourselves throughout life and particularly when doing an out of the ordinary and stressful activity like Peace Corps.  The single most important thing I’ve learned about myself is that my happiness and attitude are significantly impacted by the climate I am in.  Some may say I have discovered that I am a whiner, but I had already come to grips with that sometime in high school.

Here I whine about the weather.  I have surely annoyed a friend or two as I vent on my constant uncomfortableness down in the south of Togo.  Without meaning to I have even found myself in arguments with a few passionate Savanners who believe their couple months of heat (sometimes reaching above 120F during the day—yeah I know, it is definitely something to complain about) are really the most extreme and complain worthy.

For those of you not familiar with Togo: Savannes is the most northernly region in Togo and is in the savanna climate zone (very low humidity, less rain, and at times during the year extreme heat).  Maritime (where I live) is the most southernly region and is in the tropical climate zone (high humidity, relatively consistent temperatures throughout the year, and higher rainfall).

In my opinion, being in the south is rough.  While temperatures are more often than not hovering around 85-95°F we have humidity that ranges from 60-70%.  This is all year long.  As the seasons change (Dry to Wet) there are some average changes, but not by much.  Those in Savannes have a little different pattern and have times of the year when their low temperature dips into the 50s and times when the high reaches over 125°F.  One thing is consistent though, low humidity (which, I must concede causes many of its own heath issues like increased lung infections, scratchy throat, and dry skin). 

I am constantly uncomfortable—even at times when I don’t feel hot I am still sweaty and sticky.  I live in front of my fan and almost entirely in the nude if I can manage it.  I frequently have trouble sleeping because I am hot and even the most mundane of tasks like doing the dishes or watching TV leave me dripping in sweat.  I’m honestly not sure if I could survive this region without my fan so, to all my Martitimers without electricity, “Du courage.”

This past weekend I headed north to do some group work in the city of Kara and afterwards a spent a little time with a friend in Sokode on my return trip.  It was over this weekend that I fully understood what I have been missing.  Prior to this weekend I had never been further north than Pagala (which in itself still gave me a taste of the freedom from humidity).  What I found up north was sweet heavenly heat index bliss.  Heat index is the calculation of the perceived temperature by incorporating humidity.

Heat Index Calculation Chart

Kara was hotter than Vogan, but not too hot (I’ve heard there has been an extremely mild hot season so far).  It was hot but I was comfortable.  I know my body perceived the heat as I sweating—thank you plastic chair for letting me know—but I felt dry and comfortable.  I was wearing clothes heavier than I usually wear in Vogan and yet I was happy, eager to walk around and explore and take a poolside nap.  The excitement continued in Sokode when I slept soundly without a fan and walked around at high noon only breaking into a slight sweat.  I envy them and unfortunately couldn’t shut up about it.  I feel as though the Kara and Central regions of Togo find that heat and humidity balance amazingly well.  If I even had a month out of the year in which I could feel that good…

As a right this it is 7:15pm, 31°C (90°F) and 63% humidity; According to Mr. Heat Index that is feeling just about 100°F.  Now during hot season this doesn’t really compare to some for the highs in Savannes, but this is all year round.  On an average day when the temperature reached 95°F it feels like a whopping 120ish°F. Being hot and sweaty really impacts my attitude and work ethic.  So, lesson learned, while I can’t just up and move north right now, I will not be living in a tropical climate my whole life, and one day maybe my dreams will come true and I’ll once again wake up and live my life feeling pleasantly dry and comfortable.  

Trapped

I often find myself complaining that I feel trapped.  I make excuses for not going outside and my lack of exercising because I don’t feel comfortable because I already feel like enough of a spectacle always being stared and shouted at when I’m doing normal things; running wouldn’t be nearly the escape it should be it would be stressful. I suppose my house and my couch are my prison, but still a place that’s mine. 

Well the karma of all my complaining caught up with me when I made to leave for work yesterday.  I was trapped, not figuratively, but literally.  I stuck my key in but it wouldn’t turn; the lock was broken, I was locked inside my house.  I thought about shouting out my window to my neighbors, but no one was around who spoke English or French and could understand my plight.  I tried calling one of the people I work with, no answer… my program director?.. another colleague? Nothing…  Finally I broke out of my house, only sort of breaking down my door. 

Previously I had lost my key and I had broken into my house and now I was busting out.  It wasn’t too bad, but with the bolt still in the locked position I couldn’t really go to my meeting.  Thankfully, I finally got in touch with the ones I was to have the meeting with and they were very understanding and appeared only a few minutes later with a carpenter in tow.  I was saved!

My landlord’s wife came back a short time later.  “You got locked inside your house? Muhahahahahaha!”  Yeah, she laughed at me—I suppose it was a pretty funny situation.  I’ll have to watch what I complain about now, no more feeling trapped or out of touch, maybe I am “so tired of feeling like I eat ice cream all the time.”  I could be trapped with that.

Senegal ahoy!

As I stepped off the plane I was greeted by a huge hug as the humidity of Lomé squeezed me tight practically screaming “welcome back!”  I just got back from a trip to Senegal where the weather was a pleasant high of 75 degrees and as dry as could be.  They were the most comfortable weeks I’ve ever spent in Africa, granted I was by no means prepared and in the morning and at night I was freezing as the temperature dipped into the 60’s and caught my first ever African cold.  Though, while most pleasant, it was not for the weather that I went to Senegal.  Myself and another volunteer were sent to attend a two week long conference and training on malaria.

As many of us have heard at some point in time, malaria is a severe disease spread by mosquitoes that is the cause of nearly a million deaths a year, an estimated US$12 billion loss in GDP in African nations, and is endemic to much of Africa.  In the past malaria was a major cause of mortality in North America as well, but with rapid treatment, mosquito breeding site elimination, protection of homes with window screens and bed nets, and eventually the use of insecticides we were able to completely eliminated malaria from the United States.  Many decades ago the world declared that it would eliminate malaria from other endemic areas such as South East Asia and Sub-Saharan Africa.  While sincere, efforts were spotty and unfocused and when results didn’t come immediately interest and funding in many ways petered out particularly in Sub-Saharan Africa.

Today we are equipped with new tools to fight malaria including new anti-malarial treatments, new simple and rapid diagnosis methods, a vaccine to prevent malaria deaths scheduled to come out in 2015 (and others on the way to prevent transmission), and most of all a renewed vigor to finally finish what we started.  There have been new efforts to implement universal coverage of insecticide treated bed nets and funding access to Rapid Diagnostic Tests (RDT) and malaria medication.  Another key aspect of the renewed fight is a new goal of unified action both in scientific technology development and on the ground efforts.

That is why I went to Senegal.  For many reasons it has long been in the Peace Corps culture that volunteers and Peace Corps countries have followed their own agenda and not put forth a unified effort on any particular project.  All countries have their own training materials and each sector within a country does their own individual activities.  Today, though, with expanding communication opportunities and an increasing technical knowledge of the issue facing us, there really are no longer excuses to not collaborating and not collaborating really represents a weakness in our efforts to eliminate issues that reach across borders. 

The Peace Corps in Africa is working to unify our volunteers through the Stomp Out Malaria in Africa initiative (stompingoutmalairia.org).  The goal is to have all countries in Africa endemic with malaria create a unified front, making malaria a priority activity for volunteers of all sectors, creating a universal Peace Corps-wide training.  In order to put this initiative in motion the Peace Corps has been sponsoring “Malaria Boot Camps” to educate staff and volunteers who will spear head to start of or strengthening of malaria initiatives in their country.  This is where my trip to Senegal comes in.

This was the third Boot Camp put on the by the Peace Corps and twenty-three participants from eleven countries convened in Senegal for training.  A mix of volunteers, PC response, and staff from Senegal, The Gambia, Mali, Burkina Faso, Togo, Benin, Ethiopia, Uganda, Zambia, and Mozambique participated in technical training, lectures from experts from all over the malaria effort, and much more from advocacy strategies, how to utilize social media, to how to convince all volunteers to participate.   We began our days at 8am and finished around 10:30pm and had only one day off for the two weeks.  It was a tiring two weeks, but I learned a great deal and have come back motivated to work together with Peace Corps Togo to begin our efforts against malaria.

While much of the time was work it was great to get to know the people from the other countries.  We got to spend a day at a beach in a town called Popenguine, went hiking through their nature preserve, climbed around on old military bunkers, played on the beach, and had some good food.  Over the past twelve days we all bonded and have promised each other to stay in touch.  A group of us were all on the same plane back and the joke was made that we should pretend to be asleep when we got into Lomé and stay on the plane as it continued on for Ethiopia.  If only things worked that way…

This training in Senegal and meeting the team of Peace Corps volunteers has inspired me to worked more in the fight against malaria and sparked optimism that we can accomplish our goals with wise investments and a unified effort from all those in the fight against malaria.  And maybe I can complain a little less about the weather with a new motivation to be doing work here…though I don’t know if I could ever really do that. Haha.