9/18/07
I am back in Avassikpe and happy to be here. I got back around 2 :30 in the afternoon. I was hoping not to be walking at the hottest part of the day, but it dodn’t work out that way.
I feel like a lot of people are watching me from outside. Because it is dark outside and i have a kerosene lamp burning inside and the door open, I feel very on display. I try to ignore it, but at the same time I have to be aware . . .
This morning I woke up early as always. I took a shower and typed an email about yesterday (Back to the people staring at me from outside, it is really unfair because I can’t see them at all when it is dark outside). Then I went out to buy bread and had breakfast. Aterwards I packed and sat around waiting for the people I was leaving with to be ready to leave. For various reasons, none of which are interesting or exciting, we didn’t leave until around 10 :30. There were four of us travelling together and we got picked up on the route nationale by a van (an 8 seater). Not to self : try to get in a car and not a van – it fills up faster. We didn’t actually leave Atakpame until after 12 :00. Instead, we sat, the ffour of us cramped in the back seat of the van and the driver and apprentice rounded up seven more passengers for a total of fourteen adults and a child (no animals, though). I would have waited outside except we were driving to different parts of Atakpame looking for passengers. Needless to say, I am learning to have a little patience. I was the second person to be dropped of and around 1 :30 I started walking from Agbatitoe to Avassikpe. It was hot, but luckily not unbearbly so and my pack was heavy, but again, not unbearble. I amused myself again by picking more wildflowers to press (which by the way all molded). It was a nice wal. I saw at least 10 different kinds of butterflies and four different kinds of lizards (one was big with a bright orange stripe). By the time I reached Avassikpe, though, I was pretty tired and very hungry. I couldn’t eat rigth away, though, because I had about eight children of assorted ages standing outside my door. I unpacked, washed my new kitchen utensils and made guacamole for a guacamole sandwhich and grapefruit juice beverage. It was yummy, but I ate picnic style on my bedroom floor to escape hungry gazes. After eating, I put my new plastic covering on my table, holding it down with thumb tacks. I like it, I will just have to remember not to put hot things on it.
Then I took a shower – the mosquito coil seemed to work to clear some of the thousands of mosquitoes out of my latrine. I swear there are clouds of them.
I spent the evening working on a short nutrition for pregnant women presentation. I would like to make a series of presentations. I would like to make a series of presentations to give to the expectant mothers who come for prenatal consultations. My topic ideas include : nutrition for the pregnant mother ; exclusive breast feeding ; infant nutrition ;malaria and pregnant women ; infants and young children ; diarrhea and treatments ; cleanliness of utensils, food and water ; the importance of baby weighing and vaccinations and family planning options. Once I have all these presentations prepared I can cycle through them at month long intervals. I would like to prepare visuals to go with each talk, but I don’t want to use flip-chart paper because it is too flimsy. I will look for something sturdier (I looked while in Atakpame, but didn’t find anything).
I had a brie visit from Tsevi to say welcome back. Lili isn’t in Avassikpe because seh went to Atakpame for the government position exam. I hope she gets it and that they assign her to Avassikpe.
9/19/07
This morning I woke up and got ready quickly because I thought Tsevi was coming by to take me to the person that makes baskets, but he didn’t ocme. I am drawing food items for my first coserie on nutrition and pregnant women.
I had to stop writing earlier because the kids were banging at my door and they wouldn’t stop when I asked, so I went outside and washed my laundry and gave them a little bit o the attention they were banging for.
Then I came inside and made lunch. It was an experiment and for a while I thought I had blown it, but it ended up tasting like something between and egg fritata and a quiche. I stirred onions and garlic in margarine and then I added a mizture of eggs, tomatoes, salt, piment, milk, chicken stock and gari. The gari (shredded, dried manioc) rehydrated much more than I expected and became about the consistency of liquidy mashed potatos. I tried to scramble it all in the frying pan, but I was afrad of not cooking it enough and so I put it in my new pâte dish, made an impromptu dutch oven and baked it for half an hour and then let it sit in the ducht oven for another half hour. It came out holding its shape and nicely browned on all the sides. It was really pretty good. I am goingto have fun experimenting with local foods like gari. It is neat to have a potato-like dried substance that can be easily rehydrated.
After lunch, I picked through the rest of my beans. I sat outside (my house was like an oven because of the stove being on for so long). The kids from next door came and told me they were hungry (of course). I allowed them to pick through the beans I didn’t want and find the ones they would eat. We attracted a big crowd of children who were all over me touching my skin, my hair –but I don’t mind. What I mind is the kids from next door yelling at the other children to go away (as i I were their personal yovo) and the fighting between children. I hate not having the language skills to tell them not to hit each other or to be nice or to share or to leave each other alone. Yawovi and Bruno, the boys from next door sorted out some beans, put them in a pot with water and put them on the fire to cook. The other kids watched and « helped » me and gota huge kick out of me repeating everything they say. I figure that even if I don’t understand (which I don’t) I can try to immitate the sounds. Unfortunately, I ran out of patience, because Yawovi, the older of the two boys next door, was eating the bean mush all by himself, not sharing even with his brother and to boot, asking me for something else ( I didn’t know what, perhaps gari) to eat with the beans. Then when he dragged another little kid away, I got a little frustrated, picked up my stuff and set it inside. Then I went and confiscated all his cooked beans, betting soot from the pot all over my clean clothes, and brought them into the house where I put thime into a bowl and then brougth them outside and policed the sharing. There wasn’t a lot, so each child only got a couple of handfuls. It makes me so sad/angry that the ywon’t share of their own volition, but I guess they grow out of that because Togolese in general are very generous and hospitable and I guess if I were a child who was hungry all the time I wouldn’t share what little I had either.
As I finished sorting my beans, I boilded my hibiscus flowers in water to make bissap juice. I haven’t tried it yet. I wonder how long it will keep. Then I took a shower and went over to the dispensaire. Eventually I made my way over to Lili’s house where i found them busy making a platform at about chest height, perhaps four feet off the ground, where they were piling cobs of corn still in their hustks. Apparently they make this platform, pile up the corn, cover it with paille (the grass used to roof paillotes) and then light fires underneath to dry the corn through smoking it. I helped carry corn from a storage room in the dispensaire to Lili’s house – Lili and the two nine year old girls (Lili says they are both nine even though one is a lot bigger than the other) carried huge wash basins full of corn and I carried a tiny little bucket. It was comical. I got lots of laughs from onlookers, but also lots of appreciative exclamations that I was helping out at all. When I asked Lili for a bigger basin, she said that mine was big enough. We made several trips and Lili eventually enlisted the help of neighborhood children and women so as to finish before dark.
On one of the trips, she smacked the hand of a small child (a year old maybe ?) sitting in the dirt. I was wondering what provoked that unusual raction and then she told me that the cild was smoking ( ?!?!?!). That reminds me, as I was washing my clothes this morning, Bruno (the middle child next door) took a piece of paper off the ground, rolled it up, stuck it in the cooking fire and smoked it. I tried to tell him to stop, but they just think it is funny when I get agitated.
Lili thanked the men who helped her build the corn platform and stack it by buying them sodabe and wine. Great. Just what they need most I am sure.
I like helping out as much as I can and participating in the daily activities. Not only is it un, but the fact that I would help is greatly appreciated (the gesture, more than ham much I really help) and I think it helps to break down stereotypes of white people.
When it started to get dark, I came home, made myself a fruit salad and am writing. It is 7 :30 now. I am going to read a bit in bed and then sleep. Tomorrow I am supposed to be going to a near by town (6 km away) at seven in the morning. We will see how it goes. Fore some reason my right ankle is really hurting all of a sudden – I hope I can still bike.
I think I will use hibiscus flowers to die the recycled paper I want to make – it turns everything a beautiful red color.
Oh. One last thing. Lili says we aren’t leaving for her uncle’s funeral until Friday. I am glad for that because it gives me a little more time in village. I haven’t been here at all this week. Also, a little boy (12 ? 14 ?) stopped by in the afternoon and told me that htey are going to work at the dispensaire tomorrow. I wonder if this is the workd to earn the soccer ball. I was kind of hoping they’d help me clear the area behind my house and fence it for my garden – but I haven’t gotten permission to have a garden there yet. We will see . . .
9/20/07
Last nigt, Tsevi and the presiden of the CVD came by as I was getting ready for bed. I threw on a pagne over my shorts and t-shirt and let them in. It was good because they said I could make a garden behind my house and even that they would help me fence it in. Good. They also said that my paillote will cost a total of 10,000 cFA and I gave them a 7,000 cFA down payment. 10,000 cFA sounds reasonable to me – I hope I like the end result . . . I let it slip that my Dad is coming to visit in a mont and it seems as though that might have been a good move because it set an informal deadline. Even though he is only coming for two days, they want my paillote and my garde and the basket-shelf things I want made done before my Dad comes. It is good to have a deadline like that to motivate them to get things done.
This morning I went to the dispensaire at 7 :00. Teh ASC of Azakpe (thevillage I was supposed to visit today) didn’t show, but it is just as well because eleven young boys all came over to the dispensaire and weeded the yard. I helped a little and then I had them write down the names of the boys that worked (it is good that they worked as a teame – it makes the administering o the ball use easier). I told them that I will buy a soccer ball and that it will stay with me, but that they can designate a team capitan to come get teh ball from me to play with and then bring it back. I said that if the girls want to use the ball, they will have to form a team and do some work to earn the right to use it. I hope this works out. I primised to buy a boall this weekend. . . It is a good way for me to get to knwo the kids a little. I was also amazed at their organizational and mobilization skills. They were all there at the same time, each with t heir own hoe. They divied up the yard in strips and each took and weeded a strip (scraping the ground to dislodge and kill weeds). It took them about an hour. I asked Lili and she said that she pays someone anywhere between 2,000 and 3,000 cFA to do the job, so I think it was a good trade-off. A ball costs around 5,000 cFA, but i the girls team or another boys team wants to use it, I will get some more work out of the deal. They seemed so excited when I said that starting on Monday they could come get the ball. They really need on because after weeding they were playing with a toy bouncy ball and tehir soccer ball was only half a soccer ball carcas. Anyway, we will see how it goes. I like the idea of the work being done as a team and then having the team capitan come get teh ball and be responsible for it – it will make it easier for me to keep track of the ball and assign responsibility.
Now I will work on my drawings. I am thinking about bringing colored pencils outside and allowing the children to color, but I am not sure how well that will work.
Is bissap the same thing as sorrel ? It sure tastes a lot like it. Yummy.
I am happy because I colored for about an hour with over twenty children and they didn’t steal any crayons. Yay ! Luckily I had some translation help from an older boy. I told them that they oculd take the papers home, but not the crayons and that I knew the exact number of colored pencils. I told them that if any were missing, we would never color again, but if they were all there at the end, I would bring them out another day to color. I was nervous about it, but I only let them each hold one colored pencil at a time and that way if someone stole some it would only be a couple and I would know that I couldn’t trust them again. It seems though that peer pressure made everyone tow the line. After about an hour, I counted the crayons and they brought them all to me and rounded up the missing ones. Out o all the kis I think the ones next door are perhaps the least trustworthy, but I got all the colored pencils back. That makes me happy because it would be sad if I couldn’t even trust them for activities like that. I didn’t get a lot done, though, but that is ok.
I forgot to mention that one little girl drew a picture of a doll-like figure and then labeled it something Voudou and showed it to me. When I asked who it was, they laughed and a child answered that it was a fetish. Interesting.
I worked on my drawings a little longer. The younger boy from next door was scratching my screen. I tried to get him to stop ; holes = mosquitoes, but he wouldn’t – he just thought that my reaction was funny. I got frustrated and so I went to Tsevi’s house and asked him to please ask the childrens’ mother to tell them not to touch my screens. Today is Thrusday and many people stay home from the fileds on Thrusday (good to know) so Tsevi was around and said that he would relay the message.
Right after I got back a huge storm which started as blowing sand and then almost horizontal rain let loose. I took advange of the natural curtain to cook lunch. I made a macaroni dish with onions, carlic, milc, chicken stock, salt, vache-qui-rit and a pinch o curyr powder and chopped tomatos. It was actually quite tasty.
Afterwards I continued to draw pictures of components of the food groups. Around 3 :00 I thought I’d head over to the market, but on the way, in front of Tsevi’s house, some kids were playing soccer with a small plastic ball that didn’t really roll (it wasn’t round) so much as tumble. If it was kicked too hard, it caved in and had to be poked back out. Tsevi’s wife brougth me a chair and so I sat and watched for a while – not so much to watch the soccer as to be amongst people – as opposed to shut away in my house. Around 4 :00 I was going to go the the market, but it looked abandoned so I went to Lili’s house. It looked like she might have been sleeping, so I went to the dispensaire. Mana and Lili’s brother were there. I sat down with them and listened to them converse in Ewe. I got to hold a really cute baby girl, though.
Afterwards, Mana and I went to see Lili. Lili said that we are leaving at 6 :00 in the morning, so I came home, packed and took a shower. I can’t help but wonder i we wie REALLY leave at 6 :00. I am afraid we are going to take motos – so I will have to lug my helmet all around. I am kind of nervous about taking a moto – I’d prefer to take a car . . .
I am a little nervous about this experience in general – where am I going to sleep ? where will I pee ? (I am bringing toilet paper) where will I poo ? what will I drink ? (I’m bringing three liters of water) what will I be forced, out of politeness, to eat ? where will I shower ? It is inevitably going to be an uncomfortable, but educational experience. Drops for my bucket, drops for my bucket, drops for my bucket . . . (I just keep repeating that to myself)
I think I will go to be early tonight because I have to get up so early tomorrow.
9/21/07 to 9/23/07
I just ate a mosquito that came out of my latrine. Great. Speaking about eating things, my breakfast isn’t much better – oatmeal with rotting banana and pineapple jam. It is funny what you come up with to eat when you have to inish things off. The pineapple jam somehow accentuates teh overly ripe flavor of the bananas.
It is 5 :45 and I am getting ready to go to the dispensaire. I wonder what time we will leave.
I just got of my first moto – safe and sound. Now all I have left to try is the donkey to get from my village to Agbatitoe. Just kidding – transport animals are somehow not used here, in this part of Togo at least. It was a little scary though, and seemed to last forever even though it took only about ten minutes. I also realized that they never showed us how to correctly buckle our helmets. Great. And the moto drivers don’t know because they don’t wear helmets.
I am sitting in Agbatitoe waiting for Lili (I went first so I’d be alone on the moto – for safety reasons) and I just got a marriage proposal from an eleven year old. Right.
- - - -
I know the last three days weren’t the longest in my life, but at times it felt like it and I am sure glad to be back in my little house in Avassikpe. I have so many things to write about, I am afraid I will forget . . .
On Friday, after taking motos to Agbatitoe, Lili, Mana and I got into a not too croweded van headed to Lome. The only animal in the van was teh rooster Lili was bringing to her family as a gift. We arrived in Lome without incident and got out at a Texaco station. We sat at a nearby bar waiting for Lili’s husband to come pick us up. Nearby, some men were preparing pintade (guinea fowl) for grilling – restaurant style. I guess they broke the birds necks (I didn’t see that part, but their heads were flopping around as if their necks had been broken and they ducked them into cauldrons of boiling water (to facilitat plucking I think).
Lili’s husband arrived after about a half an hour. At first I wasn’t really sure whether or not it was her husband – he greeted us all in exactly the same fashion – by shaking our hand. As a side not, men and women are not very affectionate in public, but men often touch each other in public in ways that would not be condoned were it a man and a woman. Heterosexual men will hold hands with each other, put their leg over the other’s leg, and touch other men’s inner thigh without blinking. It is strange to me. Then again, heterosexual men also wear really tight flower print capris that in the States would get them labeled « gay » immediately. On the other hand, it is sometimes hard to tell when a man and a woman are a couple. I was curious to see how a young married couple (Lili and her husband have been married for two years, I think) behaves because we are supposed to be a young married couple. Only twice did I see them touch in public – once Lili held his wrist and another time they interlinked arms. I don’t know how much of that space between them is personal choice and how much is cultural norm, but we will definitely have to be a little careful of how we behave in public.
Lili’s husband is a glitzy cross between a nerd and a pimp. Ok, maybe that is a harsh characterization, but he isn’t what I expected. I like Lili so much that I guess I had high expectations for the person she chose to marry (assuming she chose of course . . .). He is probably in his thirties, but his voice has an irritating pubescent Steve Erkle ring to it. He seems to be relatively well established – he has a car, a jobe in Lome and his house (part of a row of houses that share latrine and cooking space) while not glamorous has a television, dvid player, etc. His demeanor is pleasant enough, but certain things that he said to me that I found disrespectful to both Lili, his wife and my homologue and friend, and myself made me dislike him quite intensely. Throughout the weekend he insisted that he was going to marry me, introduced me several times as his wife and made other inappropriate comments. The fact that Lili was right there for all of these comments and didn’t say anything put me in a very difficult position. I can’t exactly ream out Lili’s husband. If I were alone with him, for a moment, I wouldn’t hesitate to tell him how disprespectful I think it is (although I really don’t want to be alone with him even for a second). But when he makes comments infront of Lili and she (a very strong, willful woman, not to mention his WIFE) just laughs it off, what am I supposed to do ?
On Friday morning, Lili’s husband took us to his house where we sat and watched television for several hourse while he took the car to the mechanic. (It is actually quite a nice care by Togolese standards. I know nothing about cars, but it is an automatic and both the inside and outside are still in tact). The program on television seemed to be a Spring Break reality show from the U.S. that had been dubbed over in French (so I couldn’t understand). It was embarrassing, though, because there was lots of nudity and sex – Lili’s explanation for what was going on was that they were male and female prostitues. Shows like these give the U.S. and Americans a terrible reputation. I realize that some Americans behave like that, but not all. It is just that the other people don’t get reality shows made of their lives and activities because that wouldn’t sell to television viewers. Anywayr, it was awkward (Ashley uses the word awkward to describe everythign and the habit is rubbing off on me) and I took out a Newsweek magazine to read.
Then we ate lunch prepared by a woman (I don’t know who, but I think she was paid to prepare the food) – pâte with an ademan (green, leafy vegetable) and fish sauce. It was ok. Lili’s husband arrived wit hhis helder brother soon after we finished eating and he ate. He told me that I should marry his brother (later I guess he decided that he would prefer to have me for himself)
We got in the car, but didn’t leave Lome directly. Actually, the whole trip was a series of stops – at a frozen foods place, to say hello to siblings and random other stops. They kept buying things to eat – the little nuts that taste like coconut, bread, snails on a stick . . . I learned that they don’t eat teh whole little coconut thing (called something that sounds like sushi), but they chew it and spit it out sort of like sugar cane. I prefer to eat the whole thing and I haven’t gotten sick yet so I will keep eating it all. Lili was spitting it out into a newspaper in her lap and when she whent to throw it out the window, it blew back into the car. I laughed for a long time.
Lili’s husband brought me some apples which is a real treat because apples here cost 200 cFA – as much as a large pineapple. It is a good thing, too, because I don’t have any other fruit for the week.
We also stopped for a drink at a bar. I think Lili’s husband likes to be a little flashy with his money . . . he paid for everyone’s drinks.
Lili’s village is not too far from my training site. Mount Agou is clearly visible in the distance. There were a lot of people in her family’s compound and it was hard for me to figure out who was who. No one introduces themselves or is introduced wit ha relation « my father », « my brother », « my sister in law », « my father’s other wife » so it is left for me to deduce. I eventually realized that most of the people who were there don’t live there but in Kpalime or Lome. Everyone was just in town for the funeral.
Everyone was nice, but I guess again, because I like Lili so much, my expectations were too high. Even though Lily insisted many times that they should not refer to me as « yovo », that I have a name and it is Danielle, they stubbornly continued to call me yovo. Danielle is not a girl’s name here, only Daniel exists ands a name and the pronunciation is the same which throws people off a bit. Anyway, I even got the yovo song from some of the adults (usually it is only the children who sing it), which is enough to make many of my friends’ blood boil over and enough to make me feel a little uncomfortable and unwelcome. I know they didn’t mean it in that way, but the fact that they refused to call me by my name and insisted on referring to me continuously with a title akin to « white foreigner » doesn’t feel very warm and welcoming.
We greeted teh family and during the course of the weekend I learned a lot about how greetings are done here. It is the person or people who arrive who greet the host. The don’t greet immediately, but once everyone is seated and ready for the greetings to formally begin. Those who arrive then squat down and go throug hthe list of greeting questions. How are you ? and your family ? and your children ? and your work ? After answering, the host can get up and shake everyone’s hand and then he/she will often offer a welcoming drink of sodabe (African gin as they like to call it).
It is at this point that I get the most comparisons to Emmanuelle. Apparently, she would dring Tchouk and sodabe and I don’t drink any alcohol at all, not even to taste (it isn’t that I am against tasting it necesarily, I just feel that if I agree to taste it, it would be harder to refuse to drink it). So they say, « But Emmanuelle drinks tchouk and sodabe. » When people say things like that, I always get the urge to retort « I’m not Emmanuelle. » Instead, I just smile and shrug. I guess it is good that we are different in some ways so that people begin to realize that all white people are not just carbon copies of each other.
We sat aroudn and people chatted. Lili’s brothers (younger and older) took a goat that was tied to the paillote and sharpened a knife on a rock. I consciously averted my gaze and my attention from the struggles and desperate bleating of the goat. I thankfully did not see the actual slitting of the throat, just the aftermath.
When I had to pee, Lili told me to go in the shower. The whower was just a bunch of big rocks semi-enclosed with a palm frond fence. Part of the fence faced the paillote and the other part the road. Let me just say that this shower caused probably 50% of my anxiety over the weekend. The enclosure was not sufficient to allow me to really feel protected from outsiders gaze. In an attempt to cover myself, I peed all over the back of my skirt – an embarrassment I tred to hide by not moving from my seat until it was dry. There was also no place to put the used toilte paper, so I put it back in the ziplock bag it had come from and hence forth just drip dried like I guess they do.
Then we ate pâte with a sauce and then I went to watch the women hack up a chicken (I think it was actually the rooster that had traveled with us from Avassikpe).
Eventually, Lili asked me if I wanted to shower. I said yes. Worng answer, but I couldn’t really not shower for the whole time I was there. It was an extremely uncomfortable experience because I couldn’t help but feel that people could see me from outside the compound and at one point a man peed against the outside wall of the shower and I can’t help but eel that it was just an excuse to get a better look. Maybe I was just being paranoid, but I think it was the fastes shower I have ever taken and I don’t hink I was and cleaner afterwars. I only showered once more during the course of the weekend despite Lili’s persistent questioning « Are you going to shower ? You’re not going to shower ? » During my second shower, I showered for the most part with a pagne wrapped around me, but it was still uncomfortable because I heard the words yovo and etsi. I am the only yovo I saw in town all weekend and etsi means to whower, so . . . Afterwards, I refused to shower any more. I told Lili that I am like a small child who doesn’t like to bathe and joked that white people only take showers once a week. While we are on topics relating to the bathroom, I didn’t poo all weekend. I couldn’t poo in the shower and there didn’t seem to be any other place. I concluded that either the Togolese don’t poo or they don’t think that white people do. Then, right before we were leaving on Sunday, Lili asked me if I had used the WC since Friday. Luckily I misunderstood her at first and thought she was asking me when I had last showered so I said yesterday (lying doesn’t come easily to me – I am not a good liar, so it was good that I misunderstood her at first). I think there must be public latrines or something, but no one thought to point them out.
After showering, I just sat around. It was a little uncomfortable. Lili was helping with the food prep and so was Mana, but I didn’t really know how to help and wasn’t keen on the idea of chopping up animals anway.
Lili said that around 9 :00, we would go to the vieille (which in French means the night before, but I also associate the event itslef with something like a vigil). When we eventually went, nothing happened for the longest time. Impromptu pavillions had been set up with wood and palm fronds and there were plastic chairs underneath. Hanging from the wood and palm frond structures were cardboard signs allocating the sections to different groups – the family and then choir groups from all the different churches. The atmosphere was a bit fairlike, with people selling food outside and people milling all about. Eventually, all the seats were filled. There must have been over 300 people there. Lili’s uncle was the chief of the village and so everyone had come to pay their respects. The vieille ended up being like a long church service – with singing by the different choirs and dancing. Apparently, it goes on like that all night, accompanied by lots of sodabe. We just stayed until around 11 :00. After walking Mana and I back to her house, I think Lili went back for another hour.
Sleeping arrangements were also anxiety provoking for me. I didn’t know where I would sleep and with whom (there were only six rooms off the compound and lots and lots of people). Mana and I laid down on a bed with a mattress made out of rice sacks and filled with perhaps corn husts in one of hte rooms. Lili had brought a mosquito net or me and had hung it over the bed. I didn’t know who else would be sleeping in our bedroom and so I slept fully clothed (not even in my pjs, but in a skirt and top with shorts that I always wear underneath). I also crawled into my sleeping bag which I thought would allow me to sleep more peacefully. It turned into sleeping-bag sauna hell. There was only one window in the tiny room and four bodies (Lili and her husband slept on a mat on the floor) and I guess my wooden roof protects me a bit from the heat that is generated by African sun on a tin roof because this room was stifling and the sleeping bag was a very bad move. I woke up – and « woke up » is used lightly because I never slept deeply – after about an hour drenched in sweat. For the next hour I tried to maneuver myself out of my sleeping bag without making too much noise. Remember, the bed was made out of plastic rice sacks and filled with corn husks. It is like sleeping on a bed that has been child-proofed for bed-wetting. Every movement rusltes. Needless to say I didn’t sleep well.
The next day, Saturday, I got up and brushed my teeth. I kept the smae clothes on. Lili was preparing food. I didn’t really know what to do with myself os I sat in the courtyard and did nothing. Lili brougth me bouillie and bread. I detest teh fermented corn bouillie. It is like fermented lumpy gravy. Disgusting. I was trying to choke it down when Lili said she would be right back. The women going with her asked if I was coming. I din’t know what I was coming or not to, but I said I would go (anything to escape the fermented porridge ! Little did I know it would be waiting for me when I returned). I am glad I went because even though it was an uncomfortable experience, it was the most interesting part of the whole weekend, something akin to our « viewing ».
We went back to where we had been the night before and entered a room that people were filing in and out of. The room was empty except for in the middle was the preserved body of the deceased chief, sitting in a chair, dressed in full chiefly regalia and holding a cane. On either side of him were fake plants wrapped in blinking Christmas lights that were obnoxiously beeping out a tune of some sort. In front of him was a table with a bowl full of coinis. As soon as we got in the room Lili and the two other women with us began to scram and cry and pull at their clothes and yell things that seemed to be demands for an explanation from God for the death of this loved-one. I think at first teh outpouring of emotion was an act, a compliance with a cultural expectation of female family members, but it was definitely not all an act. It was as if the acting part poked a hole in the dam and allowed fro the gushing wave of pent up emotion and sorrow. We were ushered out.
Not everyone who went into the room screamed and cried I noticed afterwards. We stood off to teh side for a bit while Lili and the other women composed themselves. On the way back to the house we stopped to greet what I imagine was the immediate family at their home, but again, there were no introductions or explanations. While walking back we also saw Lili’s brothers and husband going in an all-male group to the viewing.
Funerals here seem to be a 24 hour ebb and flow of events. During the course of the day there were always people at the area in which the ceremonies were taking place. There was a sound system rigged up and music playing. The Togolese boy scouts patrolled the event and people milled about. I don’t know what I missed, but I will comment on what I saw. At one point I went with one of Lili’s sisters (perhaps ?) and pretty much nothing going on except for perhaps some sort of recorded church service emanating from the speakers. At another point I went and it seemed as if a new chief had been crowned (he was sitting there being fanned by two identically dressed little girls). The body was in the coffin and some ceremonial preaching was taking place. Then money was collected and counted and then everyone followed the coffin to a central area in the village where drummers had been playing huge drums (a rhythem that I was told is only played when a chief dies) all day long. What ollowed was very interesting, but I can only guess at the significance (I had lost Lili). The porters of the coffin carried it around dancing with it in different directions as the crowd scattered away when the coffin was pointed in their direction. It reminded me of something that I read about in a novel that took place in Ivory Coast in which the deceased person’s body leads the porters of the coffin to the person who provoked the death. Maybe I will ask Lili later what the significance was. Then a milky liquid and powder were poured over the drummers. At that point I left because I couldn’t find anyone I knew and I didn’t know if I could be there. I went back to the house. Later I went again to the ceremonial grounds and people were drumming, dancing and drinking (the three D’s).
Other than dancing and drinking, the other primary element of a funeral seems to be the food. Lili and the rest of the women family members missed most of the funeral itself because they were cooking food for the out of town (and even in-town guests). First they made fermented pâte with a gombo (okra) and fish sauce (can I just say that this fermented business in the bane of my existence. Ok, that is a dramatization, but I felt like I was eating, drinking, breathing, sleeping and sweating fermented corn. Even the room that I slept in smelled like a silo). Then they made fufu with the spicey, liquidy fufu sauce and goag chunks. Then they made rice with a spicey red chicken sauce and then they made fufu again ! And in huge quantities. And each and every time I was expected to eat as if I hadn’t eaten all day. Of course, I couldn’t comply because my stomach (and intestines and everything else) were full.
While the women worked all day long the men drank. Around noon, I felt as though it must be late afternoon. The afternoon seemed to stretch without end inront of me and I didn’t know what I would do for all that time. Four members of Avassikpe’s COGES and CVD had come to pay their respects (quite a meaningful show of solidarity because they rode their motos the two or more hours to Lili’s village). So I sat with them for a while and I saw them put money into an envelope to thank Lili’s family for their hospitality, which was lucky, because then I kenw to do the same before leaving.
The afternoon was shortened by a walk wit hsome young people – Mana, one of Lili’s sisters who must be around fifteen and a friend of Lili’s brother who is of Ghanean origin and a teacher in Lome. I think he must have lived most of his life in Togo because his French is excellente whereas his English is lacking. Anyway, it was fine because the walk, from one end of the village to the other with a stop at Kassim’s mother’s house (Lili’s father has two wives – Kassim (the brother who takes over at the dispensaire when Lili isn’t there) is the child on one and Lili of the other) broke up the monotony of my afternoon. Kassim’s mother is one of the women who was friendly all weekend, big and smiley, but insisted on callig me yovo and singing the yovo song to me. I think it really doesn’t occur to them that we might be offended by it. Anyway, when I got back to the house I ate some rice with spicy red sauce and sat around. I played with the kids, who were finally beginning to warm up to me, and learned the Ewe word for tickle.
Mana and I went to bed early and apparently missed out on some drumming and dancing. I slept a little bit better, but not much because even sans sleeping bag it was hot and I felt like I was sleeping in a silo because the whole room reaked of fermented corn.
The next morning I got ready and then sat around for what seemed like and eternity waiting for us to leave. I tried to have patience, but I really just couldn’t wait ; it was a trying weekend with no time or space to myself. When we were leaving, Lili’s dad told me to come visit them again – an unappealing prospect. Not that they weren’t nice, but how hard is it to use someone’s name instead of yovo ? Anyway, we finally got in teh car and drove away. I was happy with myself for managing to keep my cell phone a secret and for giving out one fake email address. We drove on a dirt road all the way back to Notse and again I thought that Lili’s husband was driving too fast (on the way to her village he reached 180 km an hour ! now, i don’t know the conversion to miles per hour, but it sure felt too fast) for the road conditions. I also thought that his constant blaring of the horn wouldn’t do us much good if the incoming car was blasting music like we were. I couldn’te even hear the horn from inside the car.
We stopped for a greasy omelette and coffee (or, in my case, Milo) and again Lili’s husband paid. Then we hit a pig. Lili’s husband kept driving. I would have thought it would have been expected that they would stop and offer to pay for the animal . . .
Once in Notse, we stopped at teh market so I could buy the soccer ball I had promised the kids and then we went to the hotel right behind Ashley’s house for drinks. Had she been there, I probably would have stayed the night, but she was in Atakpame. We drove to Avassikpe. I was so glad to be back. I washed all my clothes (I didn’t have any clean ones) and then took a shower and sat down to write. After a bit the high school student who helped me with translations with the kids when we were drawing stopped by. The kids who weeded the yard in front of the dispensaire have chosen him as the « responsable » of their team and their use of the ball. He said that the children offered to weed the yard of the dispensaire every week in exchange for me handing over the ball. I said that I didn’t really want to do that and tried to explain that my idea was that the ball would be available to everyone who wants to use it and the only way I can make sure of that and keep and eye on its condition is if I have the ball. My plan still has some kinks in it because this kid will leave for school in less than a month and then I will have all the kids clammoring at my door for the ball.
I went with them to the football field and while some of the kids played soccer, I made faces at the other little kisd, making them laugh. It was fun to be out and among people a bit. I watched the begining of a game played by older boys and by watched I mean sat on the sidelines and tried to make the little children surrounding me laugh (not a difficult task – they laugh at my each and every movement). I left after about half an hour because it started to rain.
I spent the rest of the evening catching up on my writing until Tsevi stopped by and invited me to his house for dinner – fufu. While eating with him I learned that when someone dies around here, the funeral always takes place in Notse, never in Avassikpe or one of the other small villages. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen a cemetary in or around Avassikpe and that must be why. He says that Notse is considered the place of origin of all the people in all the villages around it and that everyone has family there so they take their dead tehre. That explains why everyone is always « gone to Notse for a funeral » like when they were supposed to introduce me to the village.
9/24/07
It was lovely to sleep in my own bed last night.
I am exhausted, but I feel good. This morning I woke up early and drank some Milo and around 6 :30 I went to the dispensaire to borrow a hoe from Lili’s brother Kassim. He is taking over for the week while Lili is at a formation (training session/conference/workshop) in Kpalime. I started to coupcoup (machete wack) the shoulder high grasses but it ended up seeming more energy efficient just to get my baseball gloves (the ones I use to ride my bike) and to yank the gras, bushes, etc. out. That way I saved myself a step becasue rather that cutting and then hoeing to get the root, I got it all at the same time. Of course I attracted a lot of attention and soon there was a group of children watching me. They wanted to help in exchange for the right to use the soccer ball. I told them that they had to form a team and find an older person to be the coach/responsible person to whom I would entrust the ball. They ran off and rounded up more boys until they were about fifteen total from ages, I would guess, six through twelve. They helped me coupcouping and hoeing and the little ones picked up the branches and helped make a big pile that we will burn when it is dry enough. I wrote down their names in my notebook as I noticed that they were working hard which encouraged those who weren’t to work harder. Tsevi cam to help me a bit with explanations of how the whole ball thing is going to work and with the spelling of the children’s names. It was fun to be a round the children and the work was rewarding – we cleared a good part of what wil lbe my garden and the passersby were very appreciative of the fact that a yovo was clearing the field and kept telling me « good work. » Like going to the soccer match yesterday, going to the market, doing my laundry out front, coloring with the kids, working in my garden is another way for me to be out in the open and available to people as opposed to holed up in my house. We workeds from 7 :00 until around 10 :30, when the sun got too hot and I called it quits fro the day. Tomorrow I will work again.
I returned the hoe, mixed up my bissap juice with sugar (it didn’t go bad . . . it is great to have a juice that doesn’t go bad without a fridge and it is really yummy). Then I scrubbed myself clean. I really had to scrub hard – I was dirty – but it felt so good. Now I am eating the arroz con leche (rice pudding) that I prepared myself this morning, but didn’t eat.
Wow. I forgot how good apples are. I just want to savour every bite.
They didn’t build my paillote today, but the president of the CVD and his nephew brought over some wood (teak apparently) that they cut down (with coupcoups – machetes). They said that they hope to build it on Thrusday. That would be great. I asked Tsevi if the people who are doing the work to build my paillote are getting paid or if I should get sodabe or something to thank them. He said that their labor is included in the 10,000 cFA that I am paying and so I don’t need to buy sodabe.
In the afternoon, after I finished writing, I read newsweek a bit in bed and then washed my dishes and went to the dispensaire. Lili’s brothers – Kassim, the nurse, and a younger borther – were sitting outside. I sat with them for a little while and chatted and then I drew figures in the dirt with the girls. Then I went to visit Mana at her house. I defacto invited her over for luch. She asked what I prepared, I said rice and she said and where is the rice for me ? So I told her to come tomorrow at noon. Then I ran home because the rain was coming. It is amazing how storms roll in here. During the storm, I cut up pictures that I drew of the food groups and then I sat outside and watched an amazing horizontal lightning storm in the distance.
It started to rain again so I came inside. I am going to go to bed and read for a bit. I am tired and have had a headache all afternoon and I am already sore from this morning. Tomorrow morning I will work again. Unfortunately, the rain isn’t going to expediate the process.
9/25/07
Note to self : Bissap Juice keeps until you put sugar in it, then it ferments rapidly. So my bissap juice is fermented (bissap wine) and so, unfortunately, is my corn that I worked so hard to pick all the nasties out of. I wonder why . . . (Kassim later said that I had to leave it spread out on my floor. what ? forever ?)
This morning I got up early and made myself very yummy pancakes. I couldn’t eat them all so I brought some over to Tsevi’s wife with the not yet too feremented bottle of bissap juice.
By 7 :00, I was out back working again to clear my garden. I should have taken a picture of the before and ater. I worked until a little afer 10 :00 with the help of an assortment of children. Not only am I clearing brush, but small trees and garbage – glass, clothing, plastic, metal cans . . . I don’t want that stuff in my garden, but I also fear for the children’s feet – most o them do not wear shoes. We cleared most fo teh space. Tsevi now says that we aren’t going to burn the brush, but rather just push it to the bak. I am not sure I like that idea. I was sort of thinking it would be good for my garde if it were burned and then spread around, but perhpas it is better to make a huge compost pile. It will take a hundred years to decompose, though. We will see. . .
Kassim, Lili’s brother who is manning the dispensaire, delievered a baby last night and as I was getting the hoe this morning another woman arrived, already in labor. I told him that I didn’t know how I oculd help, but if he needed help I am more than willing. When I returned the hoe, I asked about the baby. They said it died. I wonder if it was stillborn or died afterwards. I will get more details later I guess. That is sad though . . . (I asked Kassim later on and he said that the baby’s foot had come out the night before, but that the woman waited until morning to come to the dispensaire and the foot was all swollen and the baby already dead).
I am making lunch right now. Curried chickpeas and rice. Mana said she was coming, but she didn’t come, so I guess I will ahve to bring it to her . . . I think the children will play soccer at 2 :00.
I think the soccer game whent well. I had to police it to a certain extent, alternating between allowing the older kids to play unfettered by small children and giving the younger ones a chance to get involved. It was fun though because in the process I get Ewe lessons from small children and I integrate a little better with the children.
I think the children who live next door are really shunned and looked down upon for some reason. They are considered dirty and unkept. It is true that I rarely see them bathe . . . and they are always wearing the same dirty pair of underware and that is it. The other children don’t seem to like them very much and the adults don’t either. I wonder why. Maybe I will ask Lili. I feel sorry for them, although, like I said, they are sort of my least favorite children – but perhaps that is because they are always around.
Mana came to find me at the soccer filed. A little late and SHE looked a tiny bit put out. I had a girl bring her the food I had made after the soccer game.
9/26/07
This morning I worked in my garden again. I moved the huge brush pile to the back and then worked at clearing the space of glass, plastic, cloth, metal, batteries – all sorts of nasty thinkgs you don’t want in your garden. For some reason the work left me more tired today than the previous two days. Perhaps becase I didn’t have as many little helpers to make it more enjoyable. I also got three blisters – two on my hands from the raking motion I was doing to clear debris and one on my foot from running (I was racing little children) in flipflops.
Afterwards I showered and sat at the dispensaire a bit. Lili’s brother doesn’t invite me to sit in on the consultations, so it is a little boring.
For lunch I ate spicy fishy rice, that Tsevi’s wife brought this morning in thanks for the pancakes and bissap juice I brought them yesterday, mixed with red lentils. Then I studied Ewe for a bit and tried to charge my cell phone with my wind up flashlight. It works, but it is going to take an awful lot of winding.
I just finished making sugar coated peanuts. They are cooling, but I think it worked this time because this time I followed a recipe. Remember when I tried to make it without a recipe and burned the whole thing – what a horrible smell . . .
I think in the afternoon, I will bring the soccer ball out for the kids. I have nothing better to do and you should hear their screams of joy when they see me heading for the soccer field with the ball.
I am really hoping that my paillote gets built tomorrow. We will see . . .
The soccer playing today started out more subdued and actually a little boring, but then it got better as more little children arrived for me to play with. They all get a kick out of it when I count as fast as I can from one to twenty in English. I was at the soccer field from 3 :30 until 6 :00. When I came back, a huge, beautiful full moon was rising in the sky. I took my camera out to take a picture and of course attracted a huge crowd. So I took pictures of the children and showed them to them for a bit.
9/27/07
The mice have added wrestling matches to their nightly races. Sometimes I wonder if there isn’t something up there a lot bigger than a mouse. They sure make a lot of noise.
No paillote today, but I did dispose of the nasty garbage at teh village dump with Tsevi’s help and hopefully set a little bit of a good example for the villagers of where and how they should dispose of those sorts of things. I also met with a basket maker in Avassikpevi (1 km away) and showed him my design, so maybe some progress will be made on that front at least. Apparently my paillote will be built next week. Hm.
This morning, the older boys came to get the ball before six a.m. Luckily I was up, but I wasn’t exactly ready to see people. I gave them the ball, got ready and made myself very yummy pancakes for breakfast. Then I went to watch the soccer game.
I just spent an horu in the sun. I forgot that around noon, bushes won’t produce any shade . . .
The children were really testing my patience today. They stood at my door for what seemed like at least an hour. I wish I had the language capability to tell them that if they bother me at home I am not going to want to go with them to the soccer field. I eel like it will be so much less effective if I have someone tell them later that they need not always be at my door bugging me. Irregardless, I need to come up wit ha better way of administering the ball. I am wondering if a registration of sorts would work. No matter what the age range, the older kids always monopoloze the game. I am thinkgin of organizingt hour slots for age ranges – I wonder how that will work. . .
I wanted to mention that the cloud formations here are truly awe-inspiring, magestic. I was thinking that as I sat at the soccer (soccer and football field are interchangeable in my vocabulary by the way) field watching the game between almost adults and little children.
This afternoon, after making myself brown lentils and couscous for lunch, I went over to help the women who live in the house in front push the corn kernels off the cob. It was nice because I felt as though I was integrating a little bit more, getting to know people better and venturing out of my house a little. I think the soccer ball and getting to know the kids will help me to eventually get to know the parents and therefore the community at large a littel bit better. Once you know the kids and the kids know you it is easier to sit down with the parents. I spent over an hour with them and it was nice.
Then I came home, took a shower and went to the soccer field. The soccer ball, unfortunately, is already ripping at the seams and it was the best soccer ball available . . .
My wind-up flashlight actually worked to charge my cell phone long enough to send two messages. We will see how long it lasts.
9/28/07
Last night I didn’t sleep well. Not only were the mice (I am convinced they’re actually rats or elephants, but I’d like to keep thinking of them as cute little Cinderella mice – boots, hats, vests and all) holding their usual nightly races and wrestling tournaments, but I had just learned that a new volunteer in my region is ET-ing and the blister on my thumb got infected and was causing my whole had to throb. I don’t know hwy she is ET-ing ; text messages don’t allow for much explanation. All I know is that we are all going to Atakpame to say good-bye. As for my thumb, perhaps it was the dirt in my baseball gloves (which are now essentially ruined), perhaps I didn’t scrub it out well enough, perhpas it was one of the hands I shook, the dirty child finger the poked it (yes, white people are human too), or all the corn dust, but this morning I woke up annd it was all inflamed and pussy. So I soaked it for a really long time in really hot water. In my overzealousness to get rid of the infeciton, I think I burned the skin on my thumb a little. I haven’t had a chance to soak it again yet, but I will after I finish writing. It is looking better than it did this morning though – more like a normal blister.
After soaking my thumb for almost an hour, I got ready and before 7 :00 I was at the dispensair (I keep going to bed and getting up earlier and earlier). Today was baby-weighing and vaccination day. Once a month someone comes fro mNotse wit hcaccinations and stabs all the children whose mothers bring them. I am pretty sure that the vaccinations themselves are free. We take advantage of the babies’ presence to weigh them. Around 10 :00 I was doubting my decision to stay in village for the occaision. I haad spent the entire morning letting different people charge my cell phone for me with my wind-up flashiling. They thought it was neat and all took turns which of course was fine by me because it is tiring (and they charged it enough so that it is still running this evening). The Notse guy wasn’t there and neither were many women and children. I walked to the market and it wasn’t really going yet, went home, peed, ate some sugar-covered peanuts and went back to the dispensaire. When I got back they had started weighing babies, but promptly ran out of the charts. I went to find Tsevi who called the hospital in Notse. He was assured that someone was on their way with plenty of charts. Well, that someone did arrive, but the charts were the vaccination, not baby-weighing charts. You ask : is this the first time they have done this ? Maybe if Lili had been there it would have gone more smoothely, but it was crazy out of control. By the time the vaccination guy arrived from Notse, there were at least fifty women and children there. I didn’t know what was going on, so I jsut stayed out of the way at first waiting for some instructions. Meanwhile, I jotted down some ideas on how to improve the organization.
This is the way the show went down : It is around 11 :00. At leas 50 women with infants are milling about. There is only place for about fifteen of them to sit. No shad in the courtyard and, of course, everyone wants to be first, so tehy are all crowded inside. I am already dripping with sweat while doing nothing. The guy from Notse arrives and the dispensaire becomes as packed as the hippest disco in Santa Cruz on a Friday night. He hands out pink vaccination cards. Someone fills them out for the mothers who don’t already have one. HE brings them to me and instructs me to fill in the big registry book with the vaccination and patient details. Once I have done that, the pink cards are handed back out to the women and they are allowed to bring their babies (and/or themselves – some of the women are pregnant and are there for vaccinations labeled VAT 1, VAT 2, VAT 3) in the vaccination room. They are stabbed in monotonous assembly line fashion, only broken by teh screams of the infants and the guy from Notse. He was a small twirp of a man who was nice enough to me, but horribly condescending, nasty and rude to the mothers. I mean, I udnerstand that fatigue sometimes gets to you, but he was snapping at them left and right from the very begining. If they hadn’t gotten the right information filled in, he yelled at them to get out, without taking the time to explain what they were supposed to do. If they didn’t get into or out of the vaccination chair fast enough, he would yell at them or if they didn’t hold their child’s lim appropriately as he administered the injection. I am so thankful that I don’t have to work with people like hime, who have superiority complexes, all the time. When I didn’t have any more carnets to enter into the registry (for the time being), I administered the oral polio vaccine – two drops in the mouth. It was a little nerve-wracking. I mean, what happens if you give too much or if not all of the drop goes in or if the baby spit it out ? Then we took the older carnets and I went through the registery trying to find the people and update theri « file » (line in the book actually). The mayhem lasted until after 4 :00 without pause. Unfortunately, some of the first to arrive were among the last to be served.
This is what I think needs to be done. There needs to be a place for mothers to sit as they wait, preferrably a shady place (I am thinking of sewing old, used sheets together and stringing them up to create a sort of tent on baby weighing days and asking if we can borrow benches from the churches . . .). Then we need a number system like they do at all public service places in Uruguay. When you arrive you take a number. You sit calmly, not pushing, shoving or sweating until your number is called. You can even leave and come back if there are enough numbers before you. As your number is called you come up to a table where three people are sitting. The first person seesi if you have the necessary carntes and if not sells them to you and fills out your basic information – name, town, date of birth. The second person fills in the vaccinations to be recieved and, in pencil, the proposed date of the next vaccination day. The third person fills in the registry. The woman then goes inside the dispensaire where her baby is weighte if need be (but hoepfully, eventually most of the weighing will be done in the respective villages). Then the woman, still with her number, will calmly sit until called in to the vaccination roo wher efour or five women will be lined up at a time to expediate the process. In this way, first come, first served, no angry women who have been there all day and have somehow been overlooked. No women sent out one, two, three times for not having the appropriate paperwork. No pushing, shoving, sweating, straining. Possiblity to give talks to sitting women. Women can move about more freely and attend to their own and baby’s needs – bathroom, water, food etc. I wonder if I will be able to make this work as I envision.
At four I had not eaten, drank, peed . . . nothing since 11 a.m. I had scarcely dared breathe. I was relieved then, even though there were still women and children to be seen, because Nicolas (the chatechist from Agbatitoe) and the Ewe teacher had been waiting a while to see me. I was concentrating so hard on my tasks that I hadn’t noticed their presence – for which I had to make many excuses, but they were understanding. We planned to meet next Thursday, which makes me happy because perhaps my Ewe lessons will finally get under way. I took advantage of being relieved of my services to go to the market and buy bread. Market day has been changed back to Frinday and the market was busier than I have ever seen it. I passed by the soccer filed and then went back to the dispensaire, but they were finishing up. Famished, I came home and made myself an egg sandwhich which I swallowed whole =0). I cleaned up my house a little more in preparation for leaving tomorrow and then I took a shower and went to talk to the guy who is my go-to person for managing the soccer ball. He seems nice enough. I think he is related to the women I sat with yesterday afternoon and pushed corn of the cob with, but I am not sure how. Anyway, I wanted to see if we could find a better way of managing time with the soccer ball – I was thinking registration, names, ages, designated times for different age groups, but I think teh conclusion was that on Sunday he will line up all the kids and separate them into two groups. The younger group will play Thursday morning and Sunday from 2 :00 to 3 :00 and the older group will play Thursday afternoon and Sunday from 3 :00 to 4 :00. The adults play Thursday and Sunday evening from around 4 :00 to 6 :00. I hope this works. Hopefully at least it will create designated soccer playing times. Thursday and Sunday. I guess I will learn the Ewe words for those two days of the week pretty quickly to deter kids from bugging me for the ball every day. I left the soccer ball with him so that they can play on Sunday – I don’t think I will come back until Monday – and then we talked a bit about the children’s rights group and maybe we can get that started next weeek so we can prepare sensibilizations on child trafficking.
I’m kind of excited because I have lots of mini-projects to work on : the soccer ball business, the coseries I am supposed to give (and the boite a images – visual aids) I am trying to make ; morning a ; trying to get baby weighing to take place in villages ; organizing the vaccination day to run more smoothely ; my garden ; the children’s rights group. I need to get working on all these things.
9/29/07 and 9/30/07
In all the junk around here (the maison in Atakpame) I can’t even find a pen that works and so I am writing with a colored pencil. I am feeling a little sad and anxious because I don’t think I am going to be able to send you my emails from the past two weeks. I don’t have my computer because Ashley waw in the MedUnit in Lome with a bad lung infection and she came straight from Lome to Atakpame. I was hoping to be able to use someone else’s computer, but the volunteer who leaves her computer at the maison locked her locker. She doesn’t normally mind if people use her computer, but I can’t get to it =0(. So that has me feeling unsettled because I really want you to have my news.
Yesterday it stopped raining around 7 :00 and I started walking. About half-way to Agbatitoe, a man I know from my village picked me up on his moto. I waited for less than five minutes in Agbatitoe before I climbed into the nicest cab I’ve been in yet. Not only was the car itself in really good condition, but there were only three people in teh back seat and it was a very speedy trip. The only downside was that the driver was blasting a cassette that sounded like a hellfire and brimstone islamic preacher. Have I ever mentioned before the tendency here to play music (in cars, markets, houses, shops) at painful volumes ?
I got to Atakpame around nine-thirty, visited with my friends and then went to the bank and market. I couldn’t find any sort of heavy paper or spiral bound flip book that I could use for my boite a images (visual aids for my coseries for prenatal consultations).
The afternoon was spent visiting, catching up on the last two weeks (I am summarizing a bit because I have been typing emails for the last seven hours and am really tired). In the evening we went out to a restaurant and the volunteer who was planning on ET-ing had second thoughts and decided to stick it out just a bit longer to be more sure of her decision to leave and not have regrets later in life.
Today, Sunday, I woke up early as always and tried to force myself to sleep a bit longer. I was ancy though and got up and took a shower. I wanted to write, but couldn’t find a pen. Eventually I made myself breakfast and then went to buy margarine to make peanutbutter cookies and saw that the internet cafe was unexpectedly open and so I checked mail and recieved Jorge’s lovely emails.
In the rest of the day all I have done is baked cookies, watched a couple episodes of Sex in the City and typed emails. I am exhausted. I plan to send these emails tomorrow morning, I guess, I don’t think the internet place is still open (it is 8 :00 in the evening). I am happy because now you will have my emails when I didn’t think you would – a volunteer arrived with a computer and allowed me to monopolize it all day which was very nice of her.
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