I’ve been lagging a little on the updating, I know, so I’ll just cover the last few months with bullet points.
Togo is getting hot.
Christmas:
A bunch of Volunteers came up from other regions to visit Dapaong for Christmas this year, which was apparently a Christmas miracle as Savanes is so far out of the way it’s been seen as an established fact that we never get visitors. The program director for the agriculture program, Paul, actually lives up in Dapaong when he’s not working in Lome, and he was kind enough to invite us all over to his house for dinner with his family. He seriously fed 20 young men and women who live on pasta and flour in village, and pulled through like a champ – tons of meat, rice, sauce, and of course, chakpa and sodabe. The breakdancing children are what made the party, of course. Merci mille fois, Paul! I, true to form, became increasingly inappropriate with my Golden Girl/friend Kelsey, which resulted in me having to explain to a concerned volunteer sitting next to me that, “I’m not crying, I’m laughing, dammit!” The result of a bunch of normally isolated volunteers letting off steam is best left to the imagination.
A bunch of Volunteers came up from other regions to visit Dapaong for Christmas this year, which was apparently a Christmas miracle as Savanes is so far out of the way it’s been seen as an established fact that we never get visitors. The program director for the agriculture program, Paul, actually lives up in Dapaong when he’s not working in Lome, and he was kind enough to invite us all over to his house for dinner with his family. He seriously fed 20 young men and women who live on pasta and flour in village, and pulled through like a champ – tons of meat, rice, sauce, and of course, chakpa and sodabe. The breakdancing children are what made the party, of course. Merci mille fois, Paul! I, true to form, became increasingly inappropriate with my Golden Girl/friend Kelsey, which resulted in me having to explain to a concerned volunteer sitting next to me that, “I’m not crying, I’m laughing, dammit!” The result of a bunch of normally isolated volunteers letting off steam is best left to the imagination.
New Year’s:
Called “Bonne Année” here, it seems to combine what the Togolese love best: moseying around saying hi to each other and drinking. And playing the same three Moba songs on repeat all night long. Children come up and yell, “bonne anée!” to which an adult responds “bonne fête!” and gives them candy (maybe). Then they laugh and run away. I’m still getting bonne année’d by the sassier kids hoping for candy and I can’t blame them – it’s true, sometimes I still have candy on me from when a boutique lady can’t make change and I just buy the cheapest candies she has on hand.
Called “Bonne Année” here, it seems to combine what the Togolese love best: moseying around saying hi to each other and drinking. And playing the same three Moba songs on repeat all night long. Children come up and yell, “bonne anée!” to which an adult responds “bonne fête!” and gives them candy (maybe). Then they laugh and run away. I’m still getting bonne année’d by the sassier kids hoping for candy and I can’t blame them – it’s true, sometimes I still have candy on me from when a boutique lady can’t make change and I just buy the cheapest candies she has on hand.
Changement du comportement (behavior change):
I’ve started “running,” which means I shuffle around at 4:30 in the morning (the time I normally wake up here). I figure it gives me something to do for the hour or so before the sun rises – and the occasional chicken or pig screeching at me from the bushes while it’s dark gives my heart a kick. Could that count as a “speed burst”? Anyway, there’s a lot of cursing, tripping, and screaming – sometimes all three at once, like this morning when a neighbor kid ran up behind me and asked to join. Of course he kicks my ass, and when we get back I see he still has to change into his uniform and walk the 7km to get to school. Oof.
I’ve started “running,” which means I shuffle around at 4:30 in the morning (the time I normally wake up here). I figure it gives me something to do for the hour or so before the sun rises – and the occasional chicken or pig screeching at me from the bushes while it’s dark gives my heart a kick. Could that count as a “speed burst”? Anyway, there’s a lot of cursing, tripping, and screaming – sometimes all three at once, like this morning when a neighbor kid ran up behind me and asked to join. Of course he kicks my ass, and when we get back I see he still has to change into his uniform and walk the 7km to get to school. Oof.
Work:
…Um.
…Um.
The women’s conference is coming up in a couple of weeks, and I’m taking on a few middle-schoolers in kind of a “big sister”/”mentor” role. I know that when I was 15 I wanted to hear a stranger tell me about my sexuality and “changes” in garbled English. Well, we’ll see. I figure at least everyone’s Uno and Frisbee skills will improve. There’s also a Moringa tree project I’ve been working on, and by that I mean I ordered the seeds from the bureau in Lome and I’m awaiting their arrival. Lately it seems like I’ve simply been gracing events with my presence and not much else – sorry.
Hair:
Mutating rapidly into a skunk stripe/pompadour. Luckily there’s a volunteer up here who cuts hair so I’ll make sure to get all cleaned up before the conference. I know that mohawks lend an air of gravitas to any situation or outfit, but I think I’ll let it go. For now.
Mutating rapidly into a skunk stripe/pompadour. Luckily there’s a volunteer up here who cuts hair so I’ll make sure to get all cleaned up before the conference. I know that mohawks lend an air of gravitas to any situation or outfit, but I think I’ll let it go. For now.
G.I. Tract:
Doing great! Parasites may either be nonexistent or simply dormant, biding their time, but I’ll wait ‘em out/keep trying to kill them in their sleep with piment (a type of spicy pepper) and beer.
Doing great! Parasites may either be nonexistent or simply dormant, biding their time, but I’ll wait ‘em out/keep trying to kill them in their sleep with piment (a type of spicy pepper) and beer.
I’ll try to find a more specific topic next time, just fulfilling a couple requests for a pulse check.
-Maggie
