You ever seen a more handsome dude in your life? Yeah probably, but I'm in Togo and I'll fight you if you say anything bad about me. I got knifes and swords.

This is my little puupy Santas Little Helper. He is sick, hopefully he makes it through the next week.

Lastnight for Santa: 12 vomits, 2 liquid poops on my floor.

Lastnight for Me: 14 clean-ups, 3 hours total sleep.

Today I get him medicine.

Jounral Entry Jan 27 2009

Ragged intervals of sounds spill into the air. Birds chirping, insects being insects qnd the faint highs and lows of a nearby villager singing can be heard. The singing pleasantly billows through the dense forest. My dog Santa chews on a stick of paille (thick straw used for huts) as I finish watering the garden. A swarm of bees innocently buz around the watering hole. It is early so the heat is not unbearable. It is an abnormal harmattan morning becuase although it is cool, it is windless. The heat and wind will gather intensity as the sun climbs to the sky's zenith. No animal, man nor beast, is out during the peak hours; for it is as hot as it is dry. Thus work must be completed in the mornings and the evenings before the sun desends into the treeline to the west. To the south and southest of my garden the mountains are distorted like a scribbled drawing by the haze which distance, dust and heat alter the landscape. Verdant palm trees and teek trees fill the area midground and paille, weeds and bushes color the foreground lime, brown and gold. There are no clouds in the sky; only birds, butterflyies and the sun. There is a stream that trickles alongside the garden from the southern mountains. It travels to the larger Anie River about 10km downstream to the north. Nestled next to the Anie River is the town Anie, which gets the nqmeAnie from the River. This is where I go to market on Wednesdays. It is the second largest open-air market in Togo. Around 5000 consumers, venders and villagers from every region and ethnic group are in attendence on market day. Tommorrow I will take a moto (motocycle) early in the morning from my village to the Route Nationale. Here I have to wave down a taxi and hitch like Kerouac on the road. It takes under 2 hours from the doorsteps of my 3-room cement shoebox to Anie. In Anie I am able to gather provisions, lightly libate, use the internet and mail letters (these letters tend to take their time trqveling the world and often go AWOL prior to arriving qt the intendent mailbox). Anie is the closest thing to the comforts that I took for granted in the States until I take my monthly trips to the regional capital Atakpame. I'll tell you more at a later date.