The views, opinions, and ideas expressed in this blog are solely those of the author. This account does not reflect the views of the government of Togo, Peace Corps Togo, other PC Volunteers, the United States Peace Corps, the US Government, your dog, Kara’s dog, or really anyone but me, because that would be ridiculous.

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

Chez Moi La Bas

So I figure that it is about time that I put some sort of account of my time in Togo on the internet for all my adoring fans to read. Sorry it has taken so long. I have many great excuses for not getting anything up involving, but not limited to, living oh-so-far from reliable internet, writer’s block, a best friend/dog dying and a motorcycle-bat collision at high speed. But that is neither here nor there. Anyway, I hope this can help my friends and family understand what it is that I’m doing over here and I hope that I can convey some of the great experiences I’ve had as well as a bit of Togolese culture. Oh, and I’ll try to get pictures up, but don’t hold out for them, most days the internet is just too slow to upload stuff.

So here is a rundown of my life here: I live in the village of Asrama, which has anywhere between two and five thousand people in it, depending on who you ask and whether or not you are counting votes. Asrama is both a village and a canton, which basically equates to a county in the states, sort of. I consider the canton to be “my turf” as the chief of the canton is my boy (really, he’s probably my best friend in village) and with four middle schools and a high school the canton seems about the right size for Joe’s Kingdom. I can ride my bike from one side of it to the other in probably half an hour.

My housing arrangement is the Peace Corps Base Model. That means two rooms, about 12’ x 12’, one peach and one an electric blue/green (those may be the only colors available here), with an outdoor shower and latrine. The community was also nice enough to build a fence for me so I have a little yard that is a bit bigger than one of my rooms. Also I have a nice place where I can have my own garden, but right now I am using it to see how undisturbed soil can be used in development (results inconclusive). No electricity or running water (as that would ruin my street cred) but I do have a piece of cardboard that I use to fan myself with, so that’s nice. I bought a mattress and had a nice bed made (carpenters and tailors abound here, so all furniture and clothing is custom made) but it is just too friggin’ hot to sleep on it. Instead, I sleep on the lipicot (lip-ee-coh) that I bought. A lipicot is a metal frame, the size of a twin bed, with that string that you can melt, whatever that’s called, woven across. The result is a bed that let’s air move all around you and sweat fall away. It is awesome. And it gives me great decorations on my skin in the mornings.

For food, I pretty much cook for myself. I bought a gas tank and stove, but I also have a little charcoal stove for stuff that takes longer (gas is not expensive, but a hassle to get, so I only use it for quick cooking). The standard menú de jour consists of a breakfast of oatmeal and a hardboiled egg, then I make enough rice and beans to last me lunch and dinner. On market days (once a week) I can usually get some chicken that I like, but the usual meat options for sale here are not exactly in tune with my palate. Also, most days I can get fried tofu with a spicy sauce on the street which is really good. If I go to someone’s house to eat we usually eat fufu (yams pounded until they resemble uncooked pizza dough), or pâte (literally ‘paste’ in French) which is cornmeal and water. Like polenta minus flavor, texture, color, or fun. I have gotten used to Togolese food and can eat it without trouble (that has not always been the case) but I certainly wouldn’t order it in a restaurant or buy boxed, powdered fufu and make it myself (you know who you are fellow volunteers).

I get my water from a well and then I filter and bleach it (I could boil and filter, but boiling uses too much gas and takes too long on charcoal). And when I say “I get my water” I mean I pay a kid to fill a 25 gallon barrel on my porch as needed. He also sweeps my porch, keeps the outside of my house looking nice and disposes of my garbage. I also pay a girl to do my laundry every other week. Don’t judge me; I would do these things, but I just really don’t want to. Anyway, water. Every two weeks or so I clean the filter and damn, I sure am glad I have a filter. That well water is pretty dirty. Water is probably one of the easiest ways to get sick here (not that any way is terribly hard). Between the amoebas and other parasites that live in it or the malaria bearing mosquitoes that breed in it (I take a weekly malaria prophylaxis) the water is something not to be trusted.

Basically Africa is trying to beat us. It’s not like we’re running from lions or anything (poached out of this area decades ago) but Africa is trying to get us sick enough that we have to go home to the States. Already we’ve lost volunteers to stress, breathing in the dust and weird skin rashes (I hear they are all fine now in the States and planning their comebacks for other Peace Corps countries). And for those of us still here, well most of us know our latrines or toilets pretty well. There is really no use in asking how someone here got sick, it could have been from touching anything, or even just breathing. But don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine. The Peace Corps Medical Officers (PCMOs) are great and keep us patched up and able to work. I’d say there is possibly a very good chance that I’ll survive these two years.

So, work. The program that I am in is Girls’ Education and Empowerment (I know, it is a great line) and right now I teach English at the high school. The GEE program works a lot with students and teachers to encourage girls to stay in school and to have a positive effect on their communities through a good education. It really is a great and necessary program. For example in my Terminale class, the final year of high school, there are 42 boys and only 3 girls. It seems simple to us: girls and women make up half (or more) of the population, so to not have them educated and contributing to the development of the community is a huge waste, but it is hard to pass on that reasoning. That’s not to say that there aren’t many people here that do understand the immense value of educating and promoting girls, but we’ve still got quite a ways to go.

I teach and work at a combined CEG and Lycée (middle and high school). About five kilometers away is another CEG. For the 11 classes of these three schools there is only one state English teacher. He is assisted by two other teachers that normally teach Math and French and may have been to Ghana once and thus speak a little English. So, as I am fairly confident in my English-speaking skills, I have taken up the three lycée classes. Togolese grades start at sixth in middle school and count down, so I teach Seconde, Primiere, and Terminale, basically 10th-12th grades. In Seconde I have 110 students, Primiere: 75 and Terminale: 45. That makes for a lot of tests to grade and some stressful class management. The most common method of classroom management here is either punishment via manual labor or beatings. Of course Peace Corps and I are working with teachers to get away from the beatings, but I’d be lying if the thought didn’t cross my mind every once and a while (really though, I have pretty great students).

I think that teaching is a great way to at least start my service and I think I will continue next year as well. Basically I have 230 students that have to sit and listen to me for four hours a week. It is incredibly hard to get people to show up to meetings, so to have a (semi-)captive audience on a regular basis is a blessing for a PCV. This has enabled me to utilize one of my favorite strategies, sneak sensitization. For example, “here class, translate the following passage from French to English…ha ha! It’s the Universal Declaration of Human Rights! You didn’t even see that coming did you!?” I’m pretty sneaky. We’ve used some Obama speeches in class that have brought up talks about homosexuality, equality and democracy, and I routinely use passages from a Peace Corps manual that promotes gender equity and healthy lifestyles which always leads to great discussions. And they think that they’re just learning English! Ha ha ha!

That’s what’s going on now and soon I hope to start a few peer educator groups to educate the youths about sex, gender equity, self-confidence, goal setting and stuff like that. Also, we are hopefully about to start a village bank for development, I’ll let you know how that goes. And we’ve also got some ‘stay in school’ campaigns, micro finance projects for girl students, new/expectant mothers’ health talks, school and community gender equity committees, and other fun stuff planned. On va voir.

I hope this bit has painted a good picture of my set up here and doesn’t seem too scary (mom, I’m fine). I really am happy to be in the Peace Corps and I couldn’t imagine doing anything else at this point in my life. All of you need to visit me at some point. Seriously, I’ll write as much as I can, but come spend two weeks or so here and you can really get a feel for life here. I miss you all terribly and thank you all so much for calls and care packages. The packages have been amazing. Stuff that we take for granted in the States is so great for a PCV. Stuff like news magazines, Cheez-Its, candy, cheap-crappy powdered buffalo wing sauce, etc. are oh so great. And fun fact: although kinda gross in the States, when eaten here a SlimJim is exceedingly delicious. Much love and thanks for all your love. Oh, and I’ve lost fifty pounds and look oh so sexy.

It’s definitely not easy, but if it was I don’t think it’d be any fun.