L'Afrique en miniature

A second wind and African Skies

2010-05-24T03:06:00.000-07:00

Hello all,
Last week I was heading to the village market, when I was called over to a small mud hut. The caller's face was familiar, but I had never had a conservation with him beyond the typical Togolese salutations. He is old. His accounts of the change from German-French Togolese rule (1916- I think) puts him at least 90. His position as village "sage," elder, and clairvoyant are well known. Trying to decided wether or not he had been drinking, I approached, bowed slightly and, per Togoless customs, awaited his response to my opening salutations.

He told me in a low wispered voice:
"Ma fille, ton projet va reussir. Tiens dur, ne perds pas espoir, et continue toujours."
(My daughter, your project will success. Hold on, don't lose hope, and continue always.)

Some might say it was coincidence, as I was having a particularly hard day. I was also tinkering with the thought that my project would not get fully funded, my bike had just gotten a flat tire, and I was sunburned. However, I'd like to think of it more as my "second" wind.

If you have not had the opportunity to send out an email on my behalf, think of this as a friendly pleading. If you already have, a friendly pleading of your own might be useful. If you have exhausted all communicative efforts- prayer, meditation, or whatever spiritual means you find effective are more than welcome!

Thanks to all of you who have started fundraising on my behalf. It really means more than I can express in an email. Thanks especially to those of you who were able to contribute financially.

This is no longer a far-fetched, idealistic, or rather unrealistic project. It's written in the Africa skies. Be a part of it.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=693-350

In peace and Love,
Laura

a big deal.

2010-04-23T11:24:00.000-07:00

As of May 2010 I will have officially served in Togo, West Africa as a Peace Corps volunteer for a total of 20 months. During this time, Datcha (my village), has become my home and the people of Datcha have become my friends and family. I live, eat, farm, work, laugh and cry with them and I’ve learned more from them and their lives than I ever expected. Because of this effective integration, I have successfully collaborated with my Togolese counterparts in a number of projects (notably a village-wide reforestation effort- 1,323 trees planted- and the construction of public composting latrines). To the same effect, I have had the opportunity to understand on a personal level the complex and devastating role poverty plays in Togo specifically in relation to sustainable development.

I have become a firm believer that education is the base for sustainable development. Without education we are left without the necessary mental capacities to improve our lives and our communities. For example, farmers who went to school or attended agricultural trainings are often better farmers because of the skills they learned (like how to calculate land superficies and crop output, or how to implement advanced agriculture techniques, etc). Nonetheless, to receive an education some type of educational infrastructure must exist. In Datcha there is insufficient educational infrastructure. Datcha and surrounding villages have a population of about 17,000. Currently serving this population is six elementary schools and one middle school. This means that for a student to continue their studies at high school they have to reside in an outside village (the closest is 12km from Datcha and its high school is over capacity). This discourages High School enrollment and drains Datcha of its educated and motivated youth. It also adversely affects young girls as boys are the first to be sent to school if the means are lacking.

Within Peace Corps there is an opportunity for all volunteers to apply for a grant with a Peace Corps Partnership Program (PCPP). A volunteer is selected based on their community’s need and initiative and the volunteer’s application. Once selected, it is upon the volunteer to solicit tax-deductible donations through the Peace Corps’ website. I have completed the application process and designed an action plan for the construction of a second middle school in Datcha which will, in accordance with Togolese regulations, ultimately transition to a High School. The community is furnishing the sand, gravel, and the manual labor for the project, adding up to about 30% of the proposed budget. In addition to the construction, the project includes a series of trainings held on the following subjects: the importance of girls’ education, the fight against sexual harassment in schools, how to manage a project budget, the importance of financial transparency in funded projects, and how to mobilize local resources to achieve community goals.

The total budget is $36,075,06 with the community contribution adding up to $8,351.38 leaving the PCPP request at $27,723.68. Unfortunately as I understand, the US economy is down, most of my friends are modestly employed or continuing their studies and with the catastrophe is Haiti peoples’ bank accounts are not over-flowing. But I also know the passion that I share with those close to me and I truly believe the project can be realized with your help. Please start thinking of church groups, associations, clubs, friends, family, teachers, and colleagues that you could contact to help me raise the amount needed. I have chosen 30 key individuals/couples/families that I have full confidence will help me in raising the money, you are one of those people. If each contact agrees to try to raise $1000, the project will be funded quickly and without much hassle. Because of poor internet and phone connections my networking abilities are severely limited so I count on you to help this project become reality.

My wise mother once told her children that no one can take away their education. What she meant was that an education is unlike material possessions in that it lasts forever and is invaluable. In Togo, where people are living on around a dollar a day, an education can mean a chance at a life out of poverty. I’ve always been given the opportunity and encouragement to receive a good education, and it is that education that has instilled in me a sense of service for those less fortunate. I too tell my Togolese friends no one can take away their education- the question now is how they will receive it if there is no school.

Here is the website for donations:
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=693-350

Also here is the website for photos of my work and village and of the construction site:
http://picasaweb.google.com/Laura.Groggel/Togo#

If you would like a copy of the full application and budget, let me know and I will email it to you.

Also let me know if you have any questions/concerns/comments.

In peace and hope,
Laura

Anne: The eldest twin's trip to Togo

2009-09-28T07:24:00.000-07:00

Like most new experiences things were first terrifying. After gaining some time away from the sweltering bus rides and frantic dashes to the nearest toilets the trip takes on a softer, funnier tone. I’m going to tell you about my trip just as I wrote it down in my obnoxious little moleskin notebook. This entry is sporadic and unconnected just as my thoughts were as I wrote them down.

Ghana

I could tell you that when we landed in Ghana the air smelled like flavored tobacco the muggy night we landed in Accra but that sounds like a voice-over for a travel channel.

Each day began when a chorus of bedraggled cocks started to sing. Throughout the village you can hear each one auditioning, puffing to flap blissfully dirty feathers in their fifteen minutes of fame.

Along with my siblings I consider myself a seasoned traveler. Nights curled up on a Venetian train platform and cancelled flights don't faze me. But, I found navigating what little I saw of Ghana and Togo terrifying. At times I was truly scared which made Laura's streetwise French all the more impressive.

In Ghana we walked through the throngs of vendors, each approaching with a smile and beckoning us to their makeshift wood stands. They eagerly shook our hands and tried to steer us towards their goods. One especially forward man came up with the slogan "sista' sista' feed your eyes for thirty seconds", displaying his selection of hand-carved elephants. "Our eyes are not hungry," Laura replied as she led me away.

I often felt guilty. Felt as though I ought to avoid eye contact with the ladies dressed in vibrant prints walking through the stalled traffic selling salted fish and fried plantains. The plantain chips were delicious and starchy like sweet potatoes fries.

The family traveled to the gold coast; ironically the church at this slave trading port was located above the male dungeon where male slaves were kept before being shipped off. And also viewed the Dubois center and both locations left me with a sad sinking feeling. Precious documents and photographs are set behind normal frames yellowing beyond the cheap class. Books written by Dubois in his personal library decay away in musty rooms. In ten years many of these historical artifacts that ought to be preserved will be gone because there is no funding for such centers.

Religious sayings appeared on the sides of makeshift shops, vans, and rusting cabs. My favorite written on side of a tailor shop read “except God”.

We visited Kakum national park where we walked a trail in the upper canopy. Afterwards, we were stuck in traffic for five and a half hours on the way back. I trusted our driver but the car sped around in rural areas with little children and goats clambering on the edge of the pot-holed road. Laura bemoaned her earache, I was on my period, mom felt like she was having a heart attack and Jim focused on not losing his cool.

The hotel we stayed in Ghana was beautiful but “a gated community” seems appropriate. Beyond the walls of the hotel were signs of poverty- children running naked in the muddy red streets with fishermen pushing their peeling boats into the trash littered waters. Pigs and goats between the standing huts made from debris.

Togo

Actually seeing where Laura lived and the community that now thinks of her as their own really helped me. I got to see her take a place of honor when talking with the elders about her newest project. Laura’s success and passion for the project can be gauged through the constant flow of visiting in her house. I watched her counsel young girls with words of encouragement about their studies and discuss new agriculture techniques with local farmers all with the same graceful ease.

Laura told of how she accidentally killed off several of her neighbor’s chicken when she tried to take care of her rodent problem. She placed illeligible Chinese rat poison she purchased at the market around her yard only to discover a deceased chicken on her porch in the morning. Hoping that this was merely coincidence she took the freshly departed poultry to her neighbors. When she found yet another lifeless bird on her front steps she thought she better let the family know what was going on. Laura of course offered to pay the family for the loss and then tried to dissuade her neighbors from consuming the poisoned flock.

Many villagers explained to Laura the belief that if an animal hears you talking about eating them they run away. To the shock of her visitors, Laura lifted her runt of a cat in the air and announced that she planned to eat it the following day. Rather than disprove this belief as Laura intended, the cat actually went missing for two days.

Laura's lining in her lungs is inflamed. Every breath she takes in is accompanied by a jab of pain. If there were ever a time that she deserved sympathy now would be it.

I'm amazed by how much local women carry on their heads. Balancing loads that would send my tumbling to my knees. Avoiding clichés I can’t help but describe their beauty as regal. Their proud, straight posture and easy steps left me in awe.

Mom had to chase Laura’s errant chickens out of the kitchen.

Young girls laughed as I helped haul baskets of gravel atop my head as they do during chores. A woman discovered the coincidence of sharing my name and continued to beam at me as we passed each other, each carrying our own load. Her head wrap distracting as I precariously tilted the basket of gravel with each jilted step.

We crowded eighteen passengers, a chicken, and two babies into a 12 passenger van en route to Lome.

We had dinner with several of Laura’s friends who teach at the local school. They have all opened up their homes and plates to Laura but one in particular stood out. He at first sight resembled a patient Shepard, heading children towards knowledge. His kind smile and teeming patience struck me as soon as we met. I’m glad that he and many other families have come to think of Laura as their own daughter.

One teacher had an Obama poster on his wall. It spelled his running mate as “Piden”.

“Yovo” means white person. “Akpe-lo means thanks you.

“Akpe ka ka”- means thank you very much. To the amusement of many I kept trying to learn these few phrases but could not get the inflections right.

Laura explained that to truly see results of successful projects, it takes about ten years. It would take several years for the villagers to see the progress that can be made if they change their farming techniques. The insight that Laura gave in offhanded conversation has already become useful in many of the public policy discussions I’ve engaged in at my master’s programs. Laura said something that struck a chord with me that I wrote it down verbatim. “They don’t own their own land so it is hard to think about the future. They can’t make long-term plans for farming or selling their goods when their main concern is what they will eat tomorrow.” Lola unknowingly brought up a number of important sociological issues in our conversations but this statement continues to stand out in my mind,

I won’t talk about the generosity and lifestyle of the individuals we met. For although they offered what little they had in such benevolence that it was truly stunning; I don’t want to talk about the kindness of Lola’s community and how they welcomed us into their huts and benches with open arms. Relishing their good acts draws attention away from the gross atrocities of the destitution. Walking along I saw children playing in the street barefoot, their swollen bellies and orange hair a blaring sign of the poverty they live in. Looking into their big brown eyes I dare anyone to argue against the fact that the grain we Americans chose to feed cattle could be used to feed the world.

I feel I have no right to think that the skinny goats grazing on the roadside as quaint. I have no right to summarize a culture I cannot grasp as a visitor.

I loved seeing Togo. I loved visiting Laura but more importantly, I saw firsthand how meaningful the work she does is. Laura, I know there are days when you’re exhausted and feel like so little has been accomplished but I find hope for our generation in looking at what you’re passionate about and the life lessons you are learning.

Togo en maximum - A mother's perspective

2009-09-14T16:09:00.000-07:00

Jim, Anne and I have returned from an adventure with Laura in Ghana and Togo. From the name Laura gave her blog, you might think her first 18 months of Peace Corps have been “en miniature”. I think it is more accurate to name her blog Afrique en Maximum, which more accurately describes how immense her Datcha work has become. I ponder the extensive influence of Laura’s Peace Corps work through the connections she has made in Datcha. Laura’s village is home for about 6,000 Togolese, a long ‘trou trou’ ride from Lome, a half hour from Atakatme, to the north. We arrived in Ghana, spent a few days creating some spots of relaxation, repair, and rest for Laura, and then headed by public transport from the border crossing to ‘village’. “Have courage”, our new friends shouted as we boarded the ‘trou trous’ and taxis throughout our time in Togo. We’ll let you discover on your own why you are urged to have courage for your ride. It’s a bit like combining a ride at Witch Mountain, with a prayer meeting, and breastfeeding clinic. We just can’t wait to get on the road again or at least in a vehicle with a floor board which hides the ‘road’.

Most of us have had the experience of people knowing our name, calling to us from the road, a bar stool (Cheers), or in a crowded room when we are recognized by an old friend. Our names signify that we have a relationship, that we are connected, that our community is a place where we belong and are accepted. In Datcha, “Everyone knows her name.” Anne became Laura’s “jamel”, Jim was Laura’s adoptive papa; I was Laura’s mama. Acquaintances introduced themselves as Laura’s friend, as Laura’s co-worker at the CEG middle school, as Laura’s soccer teammate, as Laura’s soccer team player, as Laura’s adviser for farming, as Laura’s helper with her fields, as Laura’s English club member, and as Laura’s adoptive family (of which I counted five!). I am so grateful for the Yovo’s, the Komi’s, the Darama’s, and the Kwami’s. When I think of the hospitality they extended, I realize that Laura is ‘tres chere’ to their families and feels at home in Datcha

This is love, when a village reaches out with hospitality, with appreciation, naming their beloved as their own. Her American family already knew that Laura is a "gifted, zany, fun one who gives so much of herself with an unusual flair and enthusiasm”. What we did not realize until our visit, was the impact she is making in the village. Her hands have planted crops: corn and rice, added a ground cover to replenish nitrogen and retard weed growth. The fields have irrigation furrows, a good stand of crop, and are a definite demonstration to what this double-cropping can mean to revitalize soil. She has started a tree nursery to supply tress for school, the health clinic, and church grounds. The trees are beautiful and provide shade, but also have concomitant benefits: the moringa tree with its miracle properties, and the mahogany with its value to reforest and be a cash crop. Apparently, the trees have been more valued than Laura anticipated; several were stolen from their appointed planting spots.

Parts of our stay were such eye-openers for spoiled Americans. We had fine accommodations at Laura’s home, which is two rooms and an attached kitchen. The difference from her African place and ours was that her yard is constantly a visitor’s stopping place. Teachers come to sit, English club came to borrow books, neighbors come to share food, soccer team members come to borrow shin guards, shoes, and almost anything else that isn’t in use or being worn sat that instant. The sense of community brings to mind the root of the word, communal. Laura has always been particularly good about sharing, and in return she reaps benefits of being part of the Datcha family.

Jim and Laura spearheaded a project with a community group of volunteers in their 20’s and 30’s that is committed to do community service on a regular basis. This new project was ‘the compostable latrine’, and became well-known throughout the village. The Datcha Community Development Group’s (AJCD) weekly project involved cleaning out the village gutters, a task not usually performed by residents with higher standing in the community. We were impressed with the level of commitment, involvement, engagement, and brain power the team brought to the village market latrine project. We fell in love with several of the brave hearts that came from this group. George, Socrate, and Tohir in particular were favorites. George has an especially gentle nature with a keen intelligence and commitment to purpose; he is Laura’s best friend in the village. He reminded me of my brother Christopher. He was on the job site first, and the last to leave, never drew attention to himself and was quick to laugh and quicker to make sure we were comfortable and safe. He is one I want to adopt and send to college. Can you imagine a whole generation whose opportunities for higher education are thwarted by the inability to pay for school? Where does one start? Perhaps a better question is where does one stop?

Laura has become a philanthropist for her little compound, providing tuition for two girls to attend school. And out of this gesture to educate promising young girls now comes the expectation that she is the “Fanny Mae” of Datcha. This has become a menace, with her being seen as the financier of many projects. I realize that the Peace Corps does not want volunteers to fund projects on their own, because of the very real problems with having too little to spread around, even for the volunteer’s own needs. What requires blinders is that there are so many needs. We are so proud of Laura’s work and her ability to keep all of the balls in the air at once. She has so little time for herself. Visitors of all ages arrive the minute she arrives home, announcing their visit by pounding on the corrugated metal door and calling for Laura. They come for English Club, to organize soccer matches, to report passing scores on exams, to taste delights from the States, and to debate the relative merit of projects for the AJCD. Of all the things Laura gives, the greatest is herself and her abilities to lead.

When all is said and done, probably the most important notion is whether our name will be recognized as one credited with making a difference. We can create friendships across our world, starting with naming those we have learned to love. Jim, Anne and I witnessed Laura’s impact in West Africa and are glad she names us as family.

Martha Hoffman Goedert

Togolese-ism #3: Twins

2009-08-27T09:37:00.000-07:00

My whole world has been turned upside down and yet reaffirmed in a strange sense (a phrase that seems to encompass my Peace Corps service thus far). Twins, it seems are viewed as gods here in Togo. Frankly that is something I always thought was necessary. Here in Togo, I am on the same level as living heroes, famous movie stars, or as it is said, someone with an inclination toward black magic (meaning someone NOBODY wants to mess with). My friends have showed me the shrines to twins here. Every time a twin dies in your family you keep a wooden figurine of them and on the appropriate ceremonies make sacrifices, feed, and cloth them. The figurines look like voodoo dolls, but don’t let cultural stereotypes mislead you (like I did). If, for instance, a mother looses a twin at childbirth she will also keep a figurine of the other twin with her at all times (until her other twin has grown). She will feed it, cloth, it and keep it wrapped up in her skirt always against her body showing her respect for the lost life. If twins are correctly revered and cared-for they will protect your home leaving you at peace in your household.

But it’s not over there…I’m not sure if you are ready for this, I certainly wasn’t. The birth-order is opposite here. That means, hold your horses it’s coming- Anne is actually the elder twin. For those of you who know Anne and I well, this might be hysterical for you (do to my natural inclinations toward leadership). According to Togolese culture, however, because Anne is the oldest, she is expected to be domineering, highly-respected, and not-talked back to, all the things, that for so many years I have been (not really). Oh crap…

Back to the Togolese notion of twins- it’s actually a cute story nothing anyone could seriously consider though…right? Wrong. It is said that the eldest twin is the twin that comes out second. How can that be I often ask myself? I came out first THUS I have lived longer, experienced, more, etc. However, if you are unsure about someplace, something, or someone human nature often drives us to ask about the unknown, do research before embarking. I know I spent many hours on the internet, reading books, and blogs about Peace Corps experiences before coming here. So, as the story goes, the “eldest” twin sends the “first-born” (I refuse to say youngest) out to check out the scene. How are things on the outside? If they are good the “first-born” (still refusing) sends in the message that “ya, things are pretty good out here, come on out.” In other words, I was the tester of waters, the guard, or as I like to think of it the pioneer of the new world.

Despite my desperate attempts to hold my position of authority, my grips have been slipping away for a while now and my Togo revelations are not helping (especially since Anne has been here too). Something about Anne’s Depauw sorority, rugby education has instilled a rebel in her and I’ve often found myself having to reassert my authority. So Anne, you’ve won one but I’m still revered here, and as for back home, I’ll comfortably try to return to my role as the “dominate” twin like before we went to college, and if not, pioneers (remember the game Oregon Trail?) are still pretty freakin’ sweet.

DISCLAIMER:
Anne and I actually have quite an egalitarian relationship with Anne and I love my little sister more than anything in the world!

Above: The shrine to twins.
Below: Two real twins on the left (the younger) Anne on her visit to me (the eldest). We are in Ghana.

To Work Like a Boy

2009-08-27T09:35:00.000-07:00

I have officially received the best compliment of my life. I was told today by an elderly Togolese friend that «tu travail commen un garçon» (you work like a boy). It definitely hasn’t been the first time. No, on many occasions have villagers qualified my work tendencies. In the past, the feminist inside me would seize the moment to talk about my thoughts and reactions on the phrase with undoubtedly some third-wave feminist theories thrown in there, but my time in Datcha has changed me.

Perhaps some of the most rewarding work here in Datcha thus far has been with an association of young men. The creation of the «Association des Jeunes du Canton de Datcha» (AJCD) corresponded with my arrival here in Datcha. The goals of the association are as follows:
- General sanitation awareness-raising events.
- To instruct and inform the village of Datcha on such issues as Malaria, AIDS/VIH, dysentery, tuberculoses, etc.
- To motivate the youth of Datcha to ameliorate their village.
Every Wednesday morning at 6am any where from 20-30 twenty-thirty-something young Togolese men arrive at the pre-designated location to clean up the village. Recently, due to the excessive amounts of rain, the work has been focused on clearing pathways for correct water flow to avoid standing water (which is the breeding place for many bad things including malaria). Since my arrival, with the exception of when I was out of village, I have worked with the association faithfully. The work with the association and the work in my field, I am discovering, are the major underlying reasons why I have been able to integrate so well with so much of the village.

Here in Togo, undoubtedly due to colonization, Europeans/Westerners are viewed as utterly incapable of serious manual labor. It’s a favorite joke with the village “Oh look! There goes Laura again with her hoe!” If their reaction is not seriously disbelief, it is serious concern. “You will get sick!” “You must rest” “You cannot do that work without serious physical repercussions” “Your white skin will break; it is not strong like ours” (The last of course in reference to growing calluses or developing blisters). Nevertheless, no matter how frustrated I get with some of the mistaken beliefs, I am starting to understand where these comments originate from and just how complex they can be. Never have they seen a white person in Togo work or need to work like them. They are in their offices, or their government official SUVs, even on their Trek mountain bikes (oh wait…that’s me). When I asked a close friend why so many thought like that, he said, “…well isn’t that why the U.S brought us Africans over for slavery? They did the work that you couldn’t handle”…If it were only that easy. But what else could make a country that is so magnificent, powerful, and ideal act in such a cruel way if it wasn’t for the pure exploitation of manual labor?[1]

Because I have taken such a lively part in their everyday lives, or rather livelihood, I feel like I have a little insight into what the work that makes up their lives is like (this more applies to the work in the fields than anything). It’s not just me with the epiphany either. I’ve had many people tell me how my they appreciate me. They realize I understanding their day-to-day lives a little more than the other “Yovos” strolling through Togo, as shown by my participation in less than glorious work. Not only that, my equal contribution shows that I do not in any way think that I am above the work that makes up their lives and community. The cultural exchanges don’t stop there. Volunteerism, the work I do with the association, here has a whole other meaning than in the states. In the states being an avid volunteer can mean a number of things (the majority of which being positive). We often praise volunteers, do NBC dateline specials on what they’ve accomplished, and even have government officials encouraging volunteerism. Here, in Togo, I’ve been told, to be a volunteer means you are not making money, which means you cannot do real work, which means you have no money, which in turn means you are on a road to nowhere. Faulty logic or not, in poverty-stricken Togo everyone is trying to get ahead, no one wants to be left behind or seen doing something that suggests the same thing. Regardless of its origins and negative connotations, things American are idolized and seen as the model for what things should be, thus my active role in the village clean-up and in the fields has a good impact on ideas on volunteerism while also diminishing the ideas about Westerners being incapable of manual labor. So no, Laura doesn’t look like us, she sometimes doesn’t dress like us, but heck, she sure likes to work like us!

There is another side to the coin that complicates my above conclusion. Questions like, “Why would you chose to suffer like us?” or “Do you need to work in the field?” make me reflect on the reasons why people think the way they do about Westerners. The truth of the matter is that I did chose to farm the land not out of necessity. Yes, it is true that I am trying to show the use of mucuna (the cover crop I’ve mentioned in previous blog posts) to interested farmers, but in no way is my livelihood based on the success of my field. Further, going to my field is a form of recreation and stress relief for me here. The truth is the majority of people here have worked harder (physically) than the majority of people I know back home. And I don’t mean to downplay the summer construction jobs that many people often occupy, but I am talking about day-in-day-out grueling manual labor that everyone takes part in from the 5 year-old who carries basins of water on his/her head, to the 14 year-old girl hand-weeding with her mother’s newborn on her back, to the 80 year-old grandma walking the 6 kilometers just to get to the fields before starting the work.

As for me Laura, a white female from Nebraska is in Togo doing community volunteer work that most Togolese wouldn’t be seen doing, and doing work in the fields that everyone is required to do, renders me of «bon character» (good character). So, come one come all, grandmas, chiefs, elders, medicine men, market women, and school children tell me I work like I boy because, for all that it can potentially mean, that’s pretty awesome.

[1] My answer, because I can’t leave the question as is, and for which my answer is surely over-simplified and tangential and biased is- Greed, capitalism, the struggle for imperialism, and not to mention serious issues with racism.

St. Olaf takes No. 2 slot in Peace Corps rankings

2009-07-30T00:11:00.001-07:00

JANUARY 16, 2009 — With 26 St. Olaf alumni currently serving abroad in the U.S. Peace Corps, St. Olaf College has once again earned a "Top 25" ranking from the Peace Corps in the number of volunteers the college produces. This year St. Olaf ranks second (up from No. 9 last year) among small colleges and universities (with enrollments under 5,000; St. Olaf enrolls 3,000), and is the 96th greatest producer of Peace Corps volunteers since that organization was created 47 years ago.

"With the knowledge and training acquired at St. Olaf College, these Peace Corps Volunteers are making a positive contribution to the lives of people ... around the globe," says Peace Corps Director Ron Tschetter. Since 1961, 463 St. Olaf alumni have served in the Peace Corps.

The nearly 8,000 Peace Corps volunteers currently serving in 76 countries represent more than 3,000 institutions of higher learning.

(Taken from www.stolaf.edu)

Reflections from Dad

2009-07-20T17:53:00.000-07:00

“Laura, Laura, Laura!” Wherever we went in Datcha, people in Laura’s village were constantly shouting out her name and greetings. It was clear she had already made connections with the people of her village. What was Togo and West Africa like? I really didn’t know what to expect. I was overwhelmed with how little the Togolese people had but how content they were. The children were able to have fun with the simplest things such as an old stick, an old shoe or a bicycle rim. In spite of their very simple life, they seemed to be enjoying it. Life in Togo is simple. Up with the sun and down with the sun and working hard in between. Some of the children attend school but then have a three hour break from 12:00 to 3:00 pm in the in afternoon, which is during the heat of the day. All the children help work in the fields where they are growing just enough to support their families. I had the opportunity to sample some of the local cuisine such as roasted insects, rat meat and the local beer which was warm and sour. Everywhere we went we either walked or rode a bike. Most of the people there don’t even have bike and so they have to walk everywhere. It is nothing for the children to walk 1 to 2 hours one way to go to school.I had the opportunity to participate in some of Laura’s projects such as working with a group of young people from the village in cleaning up their village. This group is committed to improving life in Datcha. I also was able to attend some of the classes Laura was teaching. The schools there would be anywhere from 60 to 80 children per classroom. They were much more respectful than children in our classrooms. I saw the soccer team she helps coach and even had the opportunity to do some soccer officiating over there. Life is simple for Laura, but she is healthy and most days enjoying her work. She has been able to establish many relationships and there was a constant stream of young people visiting her at her home at all hours of the day and night. Her home consisted of 3 rooms, which was roomy by Togolese standards and there were always sheep and goats wandering through her yard. The shower accommodations consisted of a bucket with a cup. One of the most important things that Laura is accomplishing is teaching them about life in the US and that it is not as they have seemed to have formed in their minds. Just because we have more things doesn’t mean that we are happier. It was very good to see Laura and the work she is doing. Please keep her in her prayers and if you have the opportunity, I would definitely go visit her.

PICTURES! Chez Moi (at my house)

2009-06-20T11:23:00.000-07:00

On the left is my house from the outside. I have a private paillote where I often hold small meetings with the women's group.

On the right is the side of my kitchen. I have a gas stove (probably the only person in my village) along with my food cabinet to keep out any hungry pests.

Below, on the left, is the long and arduous road to my latrine and shower and on the right is my bed (more like a cot to fight the heat) with my mosquito net (to fight the malaria).

Togolese-ism #2: why hello there!

2009-05-15T05:57:00.000-07:00

Greetings are such an important part of life and the culture here that you can’t help but take part in what can seem like redundant and time-wasting repetitions. But to believe in what “seems” in Togo is a monumental mistake and anyone who does so should take a step back before their ethnocentric judgments get the better of them (myself included). To put it simply, everyone greets everyone in the village. And it is not the simple “hello, how are you?” it is a series of questions that are asked, here are a few examples loosely translated from the local languages:

How did you sleep?
How did you wake up?
How is your family?
Yesterdays work?
Your wife?
Your household?
Your health?

The questions change if you have seen the person already in the day with linguistic subtleties that are always amazing to me. For example: The work of yesterday in Ewe (Eh-Choe-Beh-Doe?) changes into (Ehg-Beh-Beh-Doe?) if you have seen the person once already that day. The languages are beautiful to me and I only wish I had the time, patience, and mind to learn and breakdown all the languages in the milieu. Ok so what gets me is that it is not just people who know each other who greet. For instance, if someone walks into a compound with the intention of visiting a certain family and the family is not there it would be utterly rude to walk right past their neighbors without the series of greetings. This might not sound that absurd, common courtesy right? However, there really isn’t an equivalent social norm in the States. If you are seen walking or riding past a friend or acquaintances house without stopping and doing the bare minimum greetings it is rude here in Togo. In the US though, some people might consider it rude, annoying, or just plan weird if their distant neighbor stopped by whenever they were in passage and asked the “same” questions everyday.

I don’t want to patronize the practice, though. Although much of the greeting dialogue is the same day-in and day-out, for me it doesn’t diminish what it actually represents. For me it is proof of the sense of community in Datcha, Togo, and maybe, although I hate generalizing, West Africa in general. People ask because if you are sick, you are hungry, or in need of something it is the community- your family- who will take care of you. I’ve been pretty sick this last week and I really have had time to think about the sense of community in Datcha. More than anything I am thankful for my integration into that community where people stop by to say hi and check in not because they feel sorry for me or feel like they have to because I’m the white girl in Togo, but because it’s what they do, what they’ve always done and what they would expect from me in return. And they do it because- We are family, what’s mine is yours, even when what’s mine seriously, unmistakably, and unjustly outweighs what is yours.

Humility

2009-05-15T05:48:00.000-07:00

If I had a CFA (franc) a dime for every time I wrote “there is so much I want to share with you” I’d be rich…in Togo that is. But this time it is true- with nearly a month and a half since my last post a lot has happened some of which I can’t wait to share, I’d rather not share, some I’d share with a few of you, and some of which I will not or rather could not possibly begin to share with anyone. I am starting to view my Peace Corps experience as something of my own- not really for anyone else to quite understand, and I find peace in that. So please ask questions, show genuine interest and concern but don’t try to know or understand fully 100 percent what I am doing, going through, or experiencing because its mine and as much as I want you to be a part of it, anything I write or say is never enough.

With that said, my Dad came to visit (try a better juxtaposed transition than that)! I’m going to encourage him to write his own blog post so he can tell you what he is saw and felt when he was here. It was good to see him and it was also a relief to speak a little English and explain some of my frustrations with a sympathetic ear. He ate all the local favorites, sported some local attire, and did his best with the local music at mass on Sunday. He was also very patient with me. It is emotional having someone visit, emotional and extremely stressful, but worth it especially since I think he learned a little of Togolese culture and life and will be able to share some of that with all of you.

As for the work…it’s going. Some things have inevitably fallen apart or taken a completely different path. But for the most part people are motivated and wanting to collaborate. Some days I feel like there is 35 hours in the day and others 5, while some days I feel like I’m making progress while others I feel like I’m doing no good at all…it’s a constant uphill battle. To paint that picture a little better, let me tell you about a Sunday or a supposed “day off” I had last week:
I organized a girls’ soccer match against Atakpamé (the local regional capital) and much to my chagrin we lost. The team is phenomenal and supposedly the best in the region and not at all the same age as my team. I couldn’t help but laugh when one of my favorite teammates said as she saw the team get out of the bush taxi «Elle ne sont pas les jeunes filles, elles sont les grandes dames!» “Those are not young girls those are big grown-up women!” (Many of which had the build of 19 year old boy). Anyway, I was desperate to schedule a match as some of the girls’ interest waning and had the contact of a coach from Atakpamé so gave it a shot. They came, and played, and beat us to a pulp, all the while being good sports and role-models for the young girls of Datcha. However, after that exhausting match I came home sorer than I have been since my cross-country running days, and ready for a nice bucket shower. In my shower was a nice friendly green-mamba awaiting my juicy white skin, I just know it, and after a fiasco of me screaming my neighbor children rescuing me, killing the snake, and then playfully dangling him in front of my face, I learned of the death of yet another 8th grade student from Datcha’s CEG this year. It’s hard and depressing and not fair. It’s not fair- and that, not a grueling soccer match or a deadly serpent, is what can be so fatiguing here.

Another attempt at a post, although I feel like I was much less coherent or insightful this time around. I guess when I started writing I was thinking about humility and how much of a role that plays in my life here. I am constantly finding myself in situations where I have to be humble, quite, and quick to listen and learn. I guess that is what I would like to see in you in regards of my experience here. Not because I think you are not humble in your everyday lives, but because I know it is what I need from you when I attempt to explain what it is I am experiencing. Anyways, humility never killed anyone if it did I would’ve died early on in Togo when my rusty French led me asking numerous people for sex (“rapports”) instead of the P.C. quarterly reports I was actually looking for.

Love you all. Peace.

Togolese-ism # 1

2009-03-21T06:08:00.000-07:00

It has been a long time and I am overwhelmed with all that I want to share with you. However, I would like to start this entry with a “Togolese-ism” or one of the little things that I have found striking/amusing here, that I will remember 15 years from now, that, in my opinion, are the things that make Togo, Togo for a Peace Corps Volunteer. There are numerous Togolese-isms and I hope to share many of them with you in future blog entries. Today I start with Togolese-ism #1: Dead Yovo Clothes.

I’ve been shocked nearly to death on a number of occasions by the clothing I’ve seen here. I’m not talking about the beautiful, traditional, colorful «pagne» that makes up the majority of Togolese’ wardrobes, but what I am talking about is what people here call “dead Yovo (Euro/American) clothes. “Dead Yovo clothes” can be loosely defined as our old crap that we send to developing countries. We rummage through our closets in an effort perhaps to “do good” with minimal commitment, assuage our guilt, clean out our closets, or any mélange thereof. In addition, there is no real fashion faux-pas when shopping “dead Yovo” for wearing yovo-anything is a fashion/status statement all its own. That’s to say a hot pink t-shirt, manufactured in 1980s, goes perfectly with Gap jeans of the 90s topped off with a trendy floral grandma-garden hat. In my 5 some months here I’ve seen thousands of American t-shirts, some of which make the thrift-store addict inside scream “I’ve got to have that!” others of which make me seriously assess the affects of globalization not to mention materialism. Here are a few examples:
- The infamous Nebraska Cornhuskers have, for better or worse, influenced the Groggel family’s lives. Needless to say, the first time (that’s right not the last) I saw a t-shirt in tribute to good ol’ Tom Osborne of the Nebraska Cornhuskers, I was shocked. “Hey you!” I said to the young man wearing the shirt, “that comes from my village!” I was a little offended by his response, not because he was impolite but because he was not at all surprised or shocked, instead he was like “ya, so what?” Anyway it was that day that I started to understand a little better the Togolese fashion world. The young man was not wearing the shirt because he is an avid Cornhusker fan (there is only one type of football here- the real kind), but because he found the t-shirt «jolie» - pretty. What is pretty about a middle-aged white guy (Tom) you ask- I’ll never know- but I do understand what it represents to be able to wear Yovo clothes- you have money. That’s right your material donation to “HelpAfrica.com” (not real) got sent to the coast of Togo right into the hands of crafty merchants who in turn make a mighty profit selling our old clothes in local markets throughout Togo. Still feeling good about your last spring cleaning donation?
- In addition to my Cornhusker flashback, I have seen a Stowe Vermont soccer jersey (an old family vacation spot), a Carelton College t-shirt (St. Olaf’s neighboring college), and an intramural basketball t-shirt from Millard West High School (the high school of all my siblings).
- The ironic thing about it all is that our crap is not seen as crap here which in some ways contradicts my argument against international clothing donations. If I am so lucky to make it home for a visit during my two years I am sure I will rummage through everything I’ve ever owned and bring back as much as I can for my friends and fellow villagers. Nonetheless, I urge all of you to think about the voyage your crap could potentially make the next time you make a donation, what impact that has, not only on the environment (a costly voyage), but also on the people/country on the receiving end of things. Why is it that our free-promotional Walmart t-shirt is such a status symbol here?

In other news, last week marked 3 months here in village. I attended the Peace Corps In-Service Training seminar and was reunited with all of my friends from training in Agou. I returned to village reinvigorated with a plethora of ideas for projects and advice from my trainers. Here are a few more things that are in the works:
- Demonstration field: I am working the fields a little to show those interested organic farming techniques that can seriously help the fertility of the soil. That includes the use of a cover crop called Mucuna and the incorporation of nitrogen-fixing trees. This also helps dispel the long-held stereotype that Euro/Americans are incapable of manual labor.
- Public trash system: with the help of a group of motivated young men, I am trying to plan places where we can construct public dumps. This is in an attempt to eliminate the sanitary problem here in Datcha. The details are still being worked out…I’ll keep you updated.
- Reforestation- the ongoing project of planting beaucoup (a lot) of trees. I have started with some of the primary schools to get the kids interested as well.
- Of course the larger projects of latrines and water pumps are still there are present and represent a larger goal of the village.
- The school garden is going well and I hope to get people interested in doing gardens on their own so there can be some market for fresh produce in village. I am lucky to get good tomatoes and onions in village, but there is a serious lack of edible leafy-greens in rural Togo.

In closing, I am in good health, high spirits, and in a constant state of learning/observing/questioning. Everyday brings new challenges and rewards no matter how big or small. Already, I think I have learned a lot about myself (living in a small African village by yourself can have that affect) and also that I have a lot of growing to do and a lot of patience and wisdom to acquire if I truly want to “be the change I wish to see..”

Love you all. Peace.

Du courage

2009-02-14T09:40:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you all take time out of your day to tell someone you love them. Today I am missing all of you. I am not particularly in the mood to write a lot, but I do want to give you a quick update.

The English club is going really well, I have scheduled a match for the girl’s soccer team for next weekend and the girls are excited for that, I have continued with Environmental education courses at the CEG along with “life skills” courses that touch on subjects ranging from the importance of washing your hands to gender roles in village. In addition I have been furiously advocating for the latrines at the CEG to be emptied and seriously renovated (they have gone unused and full for about 10 years). It has been a little frustrating, after ordering a truck to come and empty the latrines, we found out that it was impossible to empty because of various objects that have been thrown down there and the fact that all the waste has congealed and, according to the workers is «comme les roches» like rock. So now we have asked a team of manual labors to come and empty the latrines by hand during the night. Once that is finished we have to renovate the cement structure and add a tin roof. After all of that, I would like to couple the newly finished latrines with training sessions for the students on the importance of cleanliness and latrine use. Anyway, it has been exhausting and the work is far from finished. A commonly used phrase here in Togo «du courage» loosely translates to "have courage," sums up nicely what I am feeling at the moment.

Anyways other than that I am trying to stay healthy and sane in the heat. Recently, I have had a few more health problems and have felt homesick more than usual. I hope that my motivation and positive attitude about the village work sticks and that I can accomplish some good in Datcha during my two years (some days I seriously doubt this).

On another note, Barack Obama’s inauguration speech was sent to me here in Togo- transcript and audio (thanks Dad and Laura) and I was touched by a few particular excerpts that I agree with and feel compelled to share with you.

“To the people of poor nation, we pledge to work alongside you to make your farms flourish and let clean waters flow; to nourish starved bodies and feed hungry minds. And to those nations like ours that enjoy relative plenty, we say we can no longer afford indifference to suffering outside our borders; nor can we consume the world’s resources without regard to effect. For the world has changed, and we must change with it.”

I particularly like this one and feel it speaks to me, what I believe in, and my motivation for doing Peace Corps thus I will close this brief update with it…:

“What is required of us now is a new era of responsibility- a recognition, on the part of every American, that we have duties to ourselves, our nation, and the world, duties that we do not grudgingly accept but rather seize gladly, firm in the knowledge that there is nothing so satisfying to the spirit, so defining of our character, than giving our all to a difficult task.”

The heat and the fields

2009-01-31T09:08:00.001-08:00

For the first time here in Togo I am wondering if my body was made to withstand this climate. Don’t get me wrong, I strongly believe in the body’s ability to adapt, but the way I “suffer” in the heat in comparison to my Togolese friends makes me eager for a long-overdue, evolution-scale acclimatization to the weather. Unfortunately, the true heat has yet to arrive. According to a teacher at the CEG «l’harmattan a fini et la chaleur va arriver» (harmattan is over and the heat is going to arrive). So, now it’s official, no more of this high 80s/low 90s crap of the harmattan season, that’s for the amateurs we are looking at temperatures in the upper nineties until about midnight when I’ve been told is when you drag yourself inside your house to escape the nightlife (i.e. creepy crawlies) which can be worse than the sauna that has become your tin-roofed bedroom. So with the end of harmattan comes the “dry season” «la saison séche» that will last until April when the heat is alleviated by massive amounts of rain that commence the rainy season. Apparently, during rainy season rain falls by the bucket leaving you, at times, trapped inside for days at a time. Despite it all, it is exciting to witness a change in seasons that is so unlike what I know and am familiar with.

I’ve come to appreciate how the people there schedule their lives and activities around the agricultural calendar. Since about 90% of the people in Datcha are either farmers themselves or own land that is being farmed, it is necessary for anyone living here to be aware of the changing seasons. For example, I’ve been told it would be futile to schedule a meeting with villagers or to expect full attendance at school during the prime harvest time. Since everything is done by hand in the fields (with just a hoe and a machete) it is sometimes becomes a race against time to finish the necessary work. Perhaps a few of you can remember a time when things were done solely with the hands in the fields, but as for me sometimes when I look out behind my house into the fields, it is like I am looking back in time where the thought of a tractor or irrigation systems seem absurd.

That leads me to a concern I foresee with working with farmers here. I see how hard they work to just eat, as not many have an excess to sell. Literally, many of the people here are living season to season, day to day, meal to meal. Because of that, it is hard to speak of long-term agriculture projects. When you can hardly afford to feed your family for the week can you really afford to think of a three-year investment in agroforestry (the incorporation of nitrogen-fixing trees into certain field crop-something that has proven particularly successful in West Africa)? Furthermore, the initial start-up fees for such projects are not available and thus make talking about such things even more difficult. Further, I’ve found that some of the popular farming trends that are starting to pick up speed in the U.S. (i.e. organic, local eating, etc.) have been used in Togo for years but are now seen as out-of-date because of “Western” agri. technology (like chemical fertilizer, tractors, etc) which, like all things Western signify money and success. Whereas in the States we see organic techniques, agroforestry, composting, as sustainable, essential, and in some ways “trendy” some people here, understandable, see some of these same things as out-of-date and backward. Lastly, I am still learning so much from farmers here and am not ready to impose any ideas on them until I feel adequately informed about farming here.

I’ve found that there are times in Datcha that I really enjoy the work that is starting, the people I’m meeting, and the things I am learning. At the same time, there are times when I am overwhelmed with all of those things and have feelings of helplessness, loneliness, and guilt. Nonetheless I am confident that sorting through those emotions while trying to continue to create work for myself will in the end make me a different, if not better, person.

Thanks for all the letters and support I have gotten from all of you recently. I miss you all and think of you often as I continue on my quest for understanding, patience, and physical adjustment to my new home here in Togo.

Le travail commence...the work starts

2009-01-16T09:22:00.000-08:00

Here goes another attempt to share a little more of my life here...Thanks for your patience as I sort through my thoughts, feelings, and emotions on this public internet domain (perhaps not the most appropriate place).

Things have been moving faster and in different ways than I’ve ever imagined and I’m thankful for all your support recently. I am optimistic about my new life in Datcha and very eager to start certain projects. I attribute this change in attitude to many things but largely to the fact that I have received furniture from another Close of Service (COS) volunteer. Now, when I return back to my compound, I feel more and more like I am returning home rather than to a strange, empty quarters. In a place where everything can seem foreign, it is nice- at the end of the day- to return to something familiar (I promise pictures of my new home are soon to come). Another commodity that I graciously inherited and has equally added to my quality of life is a gas stove. It has enabled me to begin preparing meals for myself with a somewhat familiar device (as opposed to the wood/charcoal cook stove that everyone else uses). Those of you who knew my culinary skills (or lack thereof) before, would be proud of some of my Togolese culinary creations. With limited “western” ingredients, my palate has expanded to include many of the Togolese staple foods and spices including, but not limited to: millet, maïs, dried fish, and piement (hot pepper).

I’ve also managed to start some work that I have found very satisfying. I’ve been working a lot in the CEG (the Togolese equivalent to a Middle School) and have made fast friends with many of the students and professors. It started with me sitting in on classes and then gradually gaining courage to help with the English lessons and then, seeing the students passion and excitement for the English language/American culture, starting an English club. My primary goal is to dispel many of the stereotypes of Americans and U.S.A-centric ideas of the English speaking world in general. I have officially had two meetings both of which, in my opinion, were very successful. I had over 100 students at both and was moved and frightened by how easily they accepted exactly what I teach. The first week we talked about Barack Obama, how yes he is the U.S.’s first black president, and yes how his grandmother is Kenyan, and how yes, in spite of how we view those things here in Togo, he is through and through 100% American. The class ended with a grand round of 100 plus Togolese students chanting «Oui, nous pouvons» “Yes We Can!” in French. Perhaps the students left a little more empowered than when they came.

You may be asking why and English club when I am here for Natural Resource management? Well, it is the one thing I feel comfortable and confident teaching…I’m proud to say now, though, through my contacts with the English club, I have been able to lay the foundation for a community garden (all that remains is the rainy season to come, a successful compost cycle, and reliable seeds). I’ve also launched the beginning of what I hope becomes a Moringa tree nursery (for info. on Moringa see previous post’s link). The community members are very excited about the tree’s potential and so, trying to stay true the community’s interests, I have made a trip to the chief’s house to make arrangements. Lastly, and perhaps most ambitiously, I am very interested in beginning a project for public toilets in Datcha. I have talked with health officials from the area who have informed me that is perhaps one of the most pressing public health, environmental, and quality-of-life concerns in the village. Hopefully after careful consideration, community consultation, and Peace Corps support I can begin that work as well.

As the work begins other, less welcoming, things remain. I am in a constant struggle with my stomach here. No matter how much care I take in treating my water and watching what I am eating, at least once a week for a few days I have serious disagreements with my G.I. tract. On a quick culture note: when you are sick everyone knows and will come and visit- for better or worse. They will bring you food, fetch water from the well, and offer any help they think might hasten your recovery. It is a cultural practice that has been comforting. Like many things, I am becoming accustomed to my health problems while at the same time finding creative ways to make myself feel better. One day this past week when I had a fairly high fever and a stomach ache, I was feeling particularly sorry for myself I pulled out my viola and started playing “Nobody knows the troubles I’ve seen” (melodramatic, I know). A few neighbors came to visit and started humming along (thinking that is what their sick Peace Corps Volunteer/friend wanted). I took it as far to teach them the lyrics as well (the CEG students are always eager to learn new English songs). It was therapeutic and I felt almost instantly better after a few choruses…I was hesitant to translate the song, however. In all honesty I have truly not seen nor experienced the troubles of Togo, poverty, etc. like all of my new friends and community members have seen and experienced. Nothing like an old American folk song to put things into perspective.

It is time for me to leave you once again. Since I am still new I hate feeling like I’m wasting opportunities to go see, learn, and talk with/from new people and places. I’ve discovered that you never can predict when you will discover, meet, or observe important things here that will help in your adjustment and work (case in point- my American folk song experience). With that said, I am so happy and eager to hear from all of you and what is going on in your busy lives. In fact, sometimes I prefer to hear about you all rather than to attempt to share all that is going on here. Perhaps, if find any enjoyment at all from these musings, you too will send me news (email or snail mail) of your lives in the U.S. which I miss and think of often.

In closing I would like to leave you with a quote that I have thought a lot about that I ran across when I was excessively analyzing the politics of the church here in Togo. It comes from an essay by Gandhi on service to others. It has become meaningful to me and I hope you will appreciate it too:

It is through service of humanity that I am endeavoring to see God. For it is not in heaven nor below that God lives, but in everyone.

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-26T06:21:00.000-08:00

Hello all and Happy Holidays!

First off, I hope all of you have had a good holiday season thus far and that you are all with loved ones enjoying a relaxing vacation. I have taken a few days to celebrate here myself with a couple of other volunteers in my nearby regional capital (Atakpamé) and thus have internet access. I do have to say, however, that it just doesn’t feel like Christmas without freezing windshields, snowmen, and an overweight jolly white man (all of which are hard to find here in Togo). Despite the lack of that “Christmas feeling” I am accustomed to, we gave a valiant effort to make an Americanized Christmas dinner…the menu consisted of a pasta with red sauce (a.k.a canned tomato paste), cheese sandwiches (we splurged on the cheese), salad, and cookies! It was successful but needless to say I overate and got sick (I think it was the cheese- the first dairy I had had in a few months).

I am now at post by myself trying to cope with the many stresses (emotional, physical, and psychological) of living on my own in an African village. My Togolese Village is called Datcha and is actually not as villageoise as most. It is located directly off the route nationale (Togo’s main highway) that transverses the country north to south. Because of its location to the highway and its mere 10 km distance from Atakpamé, it has electricity and the amenities thereof (like cold drinks). Datcha was also once home to a pagne (or cotton clothing material) factory that employed more than 1,000 Togolese and was a relatively stable economic influx for the community. Unfortunately, the factory has since been shut down, and although Datcha has enjoyed some lasting benefits from the factory’s economic development, it has also left certain populations in Datcha devastatedly unemployed.

The integration and familiarization process in my community has been slow-going and stressful but not altogether futile. I have made a few friends and have felt a little more comfortable than when I first arrived. The hardest part of my first three weeks has been the realization of just how hard my service will be (and that realization hasn’t even been completely fulfilled). All I can do is take one day at a time and hope for an eventual successful integration that will facilitate community organizing and development work I am passionate about starting. Another difficulty is the understanding that the work here will not be at all what I’ve expected- in fact, all I can expect is the unexpected. I’ve realized that a shift of what exactly counts as work is in order as well. There will be some days that having conversations with villagers and eating Togolese pâte (corn mush) with my hands will be the only “work” that I am tangibly accomplishing.

It hasn’t been any help that my home is not at all a comforting place to return home to…yet. It is three cement rooms that have the potential for comfort except for the fact that I have no furniture. I have been forced to start from scratch setting up a home in Datcha, Togo. It’s nothing like the U.S. where one trip to target or a furniture mart could make things a little homier. Instead I have to order things from the carpenter, haggle prices, and in some cases help find quality wood for construction. Actually, that is a decent portrait of how things work here in general. Even the most straightforward things (or the most taken for granted tasks) have accumulated numerous steps. For example, going to the bathroom consists of the following steps:
1. A good ten minutes in advance is needed to prepare for the task.
2. Find bucket and make your way over to the well.
3. Fetch a bucket of water from the well and carry 50m over to the latrine.
4. If needed find toilet paper (or the equivalent) for sanitary needs.
5. Throw away toilet paper as the latrine toilet is not equipped for any unnecessary excess material.
6. Do your business…but don’t walk away quite yet.
7. Take the bucket and place over your head and pour, with force, into the latrine toilet to create a flush reaction.
8. Repeat steps 2,3, and 7 until the resulting water in the toilet is clear and sure not to attract out-of-the-ordinary pests.
9. After several toilet visits it is then necessary to burn your TP and other trash you have accumulated because unfortunately it is the only alternative to proper waste disposal (the other being lleaving heaps of toxic waste sitting at your doorstep).

In other, more exciting news, Peace Corps volunteers made an obscure media appearance after our swear-in ceremony at the U.S. ambassador’s house a few weeks ago. Check out the link below and look for me in the picture…I am turning to my left and have short hair (it was way too hot) with a colorful Togolese complet (dress).

http://www.republicoftogo.com/central.php?o=9&s=0&d=3&i=2803

Hopefully soon I will be able to put up a few pictures and tell you a little more about my daily life in village. I am still figuring out life myself, however, and once I have a little more of a grasp on things (and emotional stability) I will attempt, once again, to enlighten the masses.

Thanks for all the emails and letters- you all have become my inspiration here in Togo. I love and miss you all.

The First

2008-11-24T09:03:00.000-08:00

I hope my first ever Togo blog post finds you all in good health, high spirits, and friendly anticipation. My access to internet has been limited/non-existent these first two months but I hope to be in better communication in the next few weeks.

My life here thus far has been very busy. Officially, my days are filled with language, technical, and cultural training. Unofficially my days are filled with scrambling with French/Ewe/Kotokoli, learning about natural pesticides (or the technique du jour), and eating fou-fou (pounded manioc) with my hands and my host mother. My French is coming along and now I have progressed to learning a local Togolese language (one of 40-some) that will hopefully help with integration in my future village. Overall, I am happy, well-fed, and healthy...however, there is a constant sense of overwhelm-dom with what I've learned/experienced, what I still need to learn/experience, and all I want to share with you.

Before I start I would like to offer a general disclaimer/promise for my future blog-posts:
In no way will these public musings be consistently grammatically and/or politically correct, insightful and/or intelligent, nor funny and/or thoughtful, though at times there should be some of each. I am confident, nonetheless, that they can give a glimpse into my life here in Togo or as a 1960s tourism poster so lovingly called it: "L'afrique en miniature."

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Take comfort in the fact that as the seasons change in the U.S from cold to colder (especially my boos in Minnesota), here in Togo it is a consistent "really hot & humid." Although I think I have adjusted slightly to the climate I am continually amazed at my ability to sweat through a t-shirt within seconds. The sweating and perpetual drinking of water by the "yovos" (as us foreigners are lovingly referred to here) are always two things that make the locals chuckle.

The end of my training is coming to a close and on December 8th I will officially swear in as a Peace Corps Volunteer (PCV). Everyday that passes I feel more at ease with life in Ago Nyogbo (my training site village- north west of Lome). The people there know "le corps de la paix" and are friendly and receptive to our mission here in Togo. It will be sad to leave the village not only because of my fellow peace corps frieds, but also because I really enjoy my host family (hopefully soon I can put up photos). I live with a woman who is known around town as "Afrikiko" which is also the name of the local bar she owns. She is a big woman (in size and grandeur) and well respected in the village. In our compound is the bartender (Kodjo), her "brother" (Christoph), two other young girls (Ellie and Evelyn) who do the domestic work (one of which has a 1 year old child Alfredo), and the numerous villagers and/or passer-bys who stop in for a cold drink or a quick shot of the local "boisson" sodabi. Afrikiko runs a tight ship and by tight I mean she won't let me do anything on my own. It was an upward battle to tell her thatI am perfectly capable of getting my own water from the well and washing my own laundry...the more I persisted the more they thought it funny and absurd that I was willing to do the work. I finally finagled ways around her rule by getting up really early to do my laundry or sneaking off to fetch water on my own. Now my family is very excited about my self-sufficient Togolese ways and I am feeling more like a part of the family than ever.

Togolese culture is very different than American. Later, when I hope to have more free time/access to internet, I am planning on writing about the culture here as I have experienced it. The aspect I have become increasingly aware of here is how the relaticely recent history of the country has shaped both its culture and relations/reactions to foreigners. Togo has a unique and complex past (not unlike many African countries), in that it has been colonized by both the Germans and the French...Colonization has forever affected Togo for better or worse- there is absolutely no way around it- and that history will inevitably influence my service here as a white American.

I had my firs serious bout with illness last week . It was not fun. Serious excretion of bodily fluids resulted in a 4 hour stint in my nearby latrine (about 25 meters from my room), followed by a fever and stomach pain. The whole mess didn't last more than 24 hours making me believe that it was just something I ate and nothing long-term or very serious. However at the time all I could think of was "I'm going to die and if not- I want to..." Being sick, even for a short bit, has been one of the hardest things here. Life is emotional and exhausting enough that an illness of any sort s enough to make even the most dedicated of us to say "get me the hell out of here." Nonetheless I am thankful to have experienced my "first time" and now hope that other volunteers in my group who are sick have fast and quick recoveries.

Last week we had a Natural Resource Managment (NRM) field trip all the way up north through the country. The country varies vastly from North to South and it really reinforced the idea that no one peace corps volunteer here in country will have a similar experience in country. In the north something called "harmattan" has just started with the end of the rainy season. The vegetation has become brown and the problem with water conservation and use has quickly followed. We learned as saw a lot including: beekeeping, traditional soap making, grafted mango trees, contour lines (to prevent soil/land erosion), solar cook ovens, and a women's weaving cooperative. All of these technical training sessions are for our knowledge to use in our future posts. One of the most exciting things we have learned about is the moringa tree- please take a look at the link as there is way too much to say about the tree here.

I have barely scratched the surface of my experience thus far but I am exhausted and tired and ready for a repose (rest). Those of you who know me well would be very surprised/astonished to know that here I have trouble sleeping past 6am (due to the animals, sun, schedule, and fact that I go to bed at about 8:30pm). Anyway, my first post must come to an anti-climactic close, without any grand conclusion or poetic flow.You are always in my thoughts and I miss you all. Thanks to those of you who have written to me- letters literally make my day (and take about 3 weeks). Get excited for future posts and leave me feedback (or requests/ questions).

Love and Peace.

Letter to Family and Friends from Peace Corps

2008-09-16T13:17:00.000-07:00

Dear Families,
Greetings from the Togo Desk in Washington, D.C. It is with great pleasure that we welcome your family member to the Togo training program. Over the years we have received many questions from Volunteers and family members alike regarding travel plans, sending money, relaying messages and mail, etc. As we are unable to involve ourselves in the personal arrangements of Volunteers, we would like to offer you advice and assistance in advance by providing specific examples of situations and how we suggest they be handled.

1. Irregular Communication.
(Please see #3 for the mailing address to Peace Corps' office in Lomé the capital of Togo).

The mail service in Togo is not as efficient as the U.S. Postal Service. Thus, it is important to be patient. It can take from three to four weeks for mail coming from Togo to arrive in the United States via the Togolese mail system. From a Volunteer’s post, mail might take up to one to two months to reach the United States depending upon how far the Volunteer is from the capital city, Lomé. Sometimes mail is hand carried to the States by a traveler and mailed through the U.S. postal system. This leg of the trip can take another several weeks as it is also dependent on the frequency of travelers to the U.S.

We suggest that in your first letters, you ask your Volunteer family member to give an estimate of how long it takes for him or her to receive your letters and then try to establish a predictable pattern of how often you will write to each other. Also try numbering your letters so that the Volunteer knows if he or she missed one. Postcards should be sent in envelopes--otherwise they may be found on the wall of the local post office.

Peace Corps Togo has established “The Lomé Limo” which runs up and down the country monthly, delivers mail, medical supplies, and sometimes volunteers or staff to central sites along the national road.

Volunteers often enjoy telling their “war” stories when they write home. Letters might describe recent illnesses, lack of good food, isolation, etc. While the subject matter is often good reading material, it is often misinterpreted on the home front. Please do not assume that if your family member gets sick that he or she has not been attended to. The city of Lomé has medical and dental facilities, and there is a Peace Corps Medical Officer there as well. Most Volunteers can reach Lomé in less than one day’s time. Many Volunteers also have access to a telephone so that they can call our Medical Office. In the event of a serious illness the Volunteer is sent to Lomé and is cared for by our Medical Unit. If the Volunteer requires medical care that is not available in Togo, he/she will be medically evacuated to South Africa or to the United States. Fortunately, such circumstances are very rare.

If for some reason your communication pattern is broken and you do not hear from your family member for at least one month, you should contact the Office of Special Services (OSS) at Peace Corps in Washington at 1-800-424-8580, extension 1470 (or direct: 202-692-1470). The OSS will then call the Peace Corps Director in Lomé, and ask her to check up on the Volunteer. Also, in the case of an emergency at home (death in the family, sudden illness, etc.), please do not hesitate to call OSS immediately, so that the Volunteer can be informed by a member of Peace Corps/Togo staff.

2. Telephone Calls.
The telephone system in Togo has fairly reliable service to the United States. In the interior of the country, where most of our Volunteers are located, the system is less reliable. Most Volunteers have access to a telephone in or nearby their site.

When dialing direct to Togo from the U.S., dial 011 (the international access code) + 228 (the country code) + the number. Volunteers generally set up phone calls with people in the U.S. in advance, and have the distant party call them, which is much less expensive than calling the U.S. from Togo. Many volunteers decide to purchase cellphones once they arrive in Togo, but they may not always have regular reception at their site.

The Togo Desk in Washington, D.C. usually calls the Peace Corps office in Lomé at least once a week. However, these calls are reserved for business only and we cannot relay personal messages over the phone. If you have an urgent message, however, and have exhausted your other means (regarding travel plans, etc.), you can call the Desk, and the message will be relayed.

3. Sending Packages.
Parents and Volunteers like to send and receive care packages through the mail. Unfortunately, sending packages can be a frustrating experience for all involved due the high incidence of theft and heavy customs taxes. You may want to send inexpensive items through the mail, but there is no guarantee that these items will arrive. We do not recommend, however, that costly items be sent through the mail. Even though many Volunteers sometimes choose to get local post office boxes, you may always use the following address to send letters and/or packages to your family member:

Laura Groggel, PCV
Corps de la Paix
B.P. 3194
Lomé, Togo West Africa

It is recommended that packages be sent in padded envelopes if possible, as boxes tend to be taxed more frequently. Packages can be sent via surface mail (2-3 weeks arrival time) or by ship (4-6 months). The difference in cost can be a factor in deciding which method to utilize. For lightweight but important items (e.g. airline tickets), DHL (an express mail service) does operate in Lomé, but costs are very expensive. If you choose to send items through DHL, you must address the package to the Country Director, s/c Corps de la Paix, 48 Rue de Rossignols, Quartier Kodjoviakopé, Lomé, Togo. The telephone number for the Peace Corps office in Togo is (228) 221-0614, should DHL need this information. If you send the item to the Country Director, no liability can be assumed. For more information about DHL, please call their toll free number, 1-800-CALL-DHL, or visit their web site at www.dhl.com. Please be aware that there is a customs fee for all DHL packages sent to Volunteers. For each DHL package, the Volunteer will be taxed 10,000 CFA (roughly US$20).

Sending airplane tickets and/or cash is not recommended. Certain airlines will allow you to buy a prepaid ticket in the States; they will telex their Lomé office to have the ticket ready. Unfortunately, this system is not always reliable. Many airlines (e.g., KLM, Air France, Ghana Airways, Air Togo) fly into Lomé or Accra, but each has its own policy on pre-paid tickets. Please call the airline of your choice for more information. You could also send tickets via DHL as mentioned previously. However, Peace Corps will assume no liability in the event of a lost/stolen airline ticket.

Trying to send cash or airline tickets is very risky and is discouraged. If your Volunteer family member requests money from you, it is his/her responsibility to arrange receipt of it. Some Volunteers use Western Union, which has an office in Lomé. Volunteers will also be aware of people visiting the States and can request that they call his/her family when they arrive in the States should airline tickets need to be sent back to Togo.

4. E-mail.
There is fairly reliable e-mail service in Togo with cyber cafes in most large towns. Connections can be very slow and time consuming as well as costly. E-mail, however, may become the preferred method of communication between you and your family member in Togo. Not all Volunteers have access to e-mail on a daily basis but they should be able to read and send messages at least once a month. As with other means of communication, do not be alarmed if you do not receive daily or weekly messages. Unless in Lomé at the office, Volunteers have to pay for internet time at cyber cafes and this can be a slow or expensive process depending on the connection at the café.

We hope this information is helpful to you during the time your family member is serving as a Peace Corps Volunteer in Togo. We understand how frustrating it is to communicate with your family member overseas and we appreciate your using this information as a guideline. Please feel free to contact us at the Togo Desk in Washington, DC, if you have further questions. Our phone number is (800) 424-8580, ext. 2326/2325, or locally at (202) 692-2326/2325.