Off to Africa

What there is to do in togo

2010-01-27T04:47:00.003-05:00

Hey a quick update: everything is good. Dog is good. House is good. Work is good.

What to do (or not do) in TOGO or rather in a large village or small city

Drink:
Hard stuff- served at outside temperature (80-90 degrees)
Sodabe = grain alcohol distilled from palm wine
Taco Taco = liqour distilled from manioc (cassava)
Strong Bull = rum flavored with fake coffee flavoring, purchased in plastic bags (about one and a half shot)
Blue Nile = Gin flavored like bad gin, purchased in in bags similar to Strong Bull

Beer- served luke warm or luke cold, rarely cold
Awooyo = my beer of choice, amber like the the hair of the girl that got away, smooth like the surface of a cystal clear lake on a windless day, has won two international awards in the last 40 years (6.2% Al. Cont.) (550 f CFA - 66cl)
Lager (La-Ja) = good beer (475 f CFa - 66cl)
Pils (Piss) = tastes like skunky Lager (475 f CFA - 66cl)
Flag = tastes like skunky Pils (don't know the price becuase i never get it)
Castel = average (don't know the price becuase i never get it)
Eku = German beer that doesn't taste like German beer (don't know the price becuase i never get it)
Guiness = not the same as an American or European Guiness, but some say the like it, highest Al. Cont. (don't know the price becuase i never get it)

Wine- served warm
Bonita= red "wine", tastes like a box of wine (comes in a 1 l box)
Don Garcia = red "wine", not as good as Bonita (comes in a 1 l box)
Sangria = girls seem to love this drink, I think it tastes like bad fruit juice mixed with crappy liquor (comes in a 1 l box)

Other- warm
Palm Wine= take a fallen palm tree cut a whole in the trunk on the top and bottom and watch the liquid drip, usually comes in a blue plastic5 l motor oil container and served in a small calabass, tastes sweet at first with a delayed chemical aftertaste, first one must blow or tip the large ants out of the drink, next consume in one pull
Tchouck= like many things Tchouch can be spelled a million different ways, but in the end it always tastes great, made from millet it tastes sweet and alcoholic and looks like whats in your stomach before you throw up, usually comes in a large garbage can or 25 l container and served in a medium to large calabass, in the calabass the pinkish-brown liquid should be bubbling (continuing to ferment)
Tchackba= basically the same but a little different, made up north and they claim that it is more alcoholic but my personal research has neither confirmed or denied that hypothosis, you get drunk either way

Tobacco: Tobacco is grown throughout the north and a little bit in the south of Togo
Cigarettes- not from TOGO
Concorde Rouge = classic smoke of the village folk (one can buy singles at a time for 25 f CFA for 2 or a pack for 250 f CFA)
Concorde Verre= menthalated for her pleasure, men i my village say these are womens smokes (same price as the Rouge)
Fine (feen)= twice the smoothness of a Concorde Rouge and twice the price (50 f CFA for 2 or a pack for 500 f CFA)
Royal= made by Rothsmans, regal quality at a reasonable price (50 f CFA for 2 or a pack for 500 f CFA)
YES= "Just Say YES", catchy no? (that is their real slogan) (25 f CFA for 2 or a pack for 250 f CFA)
Supermatch= I have only seen the advertisement

Pipes-
In the Tamberma Vallay up north everyone smoks pipes, they are of all natural construction (wood, clay, leather and cotton string) They cure the tabacco in baobob (the big tree from Lion King) juices and then dry it, mix it with pounded tobacco that turns into a filler and pack a bowl and smoke all day

Snuff-
Assra= This is ground tobacco mixed with minerals, medicines, tree roots, dirt and balm. This is used to clear up your nose during the tricky flu season. In reality, I think it does nothing but make people sneeze, cry and have a headache for at least a day.

Steps to snort Assra (things you shouldn't do)
if you put your hand like you are going to flip a quarter into the air it creates a little bowl between your nail and your index finger, fill this with the powder, plug one nostril and sniff in real hard, although it seems like it would be easy to wipe a powder from under your nose after only half of it has actualy entered your nostril creating black buggers, looking at the men that use assra often don't seem to have the capacity to wipe it from under their nose

New Years

2010-01-06T03:49:00.002-05:00

This New Years is my second I have spent in village. Last New Years was filled with drinking (by me), dancing (not by me) and eating good food (by all). This New Years I ate with the Dramedo family. This consists of Apico (one of the students I send to Atakpame), Abelle (his older brother), Abelles two wives and 5 children. It was a good time and we finished quite the quantity of both sodabe and fufu. Two men straight from China and their interpreture came to lunch to look at a Togolese housing compound and the food they eat. They were kind of preachy to Abelle for having so many children and so many wives. They did not drink or eat with us, but I was able to use my small amount of Chinese to say "hello" and "how are you." Today going to Anie I saw the same two men overseeing some work being done on the lake. I waved they waved back. Other than that nothing new has been happening in village. A student at the local highschool is working on the computer next to mine and keeps staring. Always fun being different.

Flu Season

2009-12-09T04:19:00.003-05:00

Today I got out of bed with a stuffed nose, a cough and generally ill-tempered. Lastnight was the second sleepless night in a row. Not long after I leave my house I am on route to Anie. I pass groups of women carrying goods on their heads to sell in the market (veggies, charcoal, ect...). My moto driver yells at almost everyone we pass in different languages and different tones of excitement. There are rumnants searching for food and stray dogs that resemble burlap sacs with rib bones.
About halfway through the voyage we come up to a the temporary housing camp of a herding tribe called the Fu-lon-nee (I'm not sure how to spell it but thats how it sounds). They have moveable wigwam like huts and over 300 cattle. Some of the animals are huge and horned while others are small and still following their mothers. A few weeks ago a different tribe came through the same place and I was able to observe the camp after they left. They left their building structures still intact. I hqve been told thqt they are built usually by the women and are dome-shaped. Each house is large enough for a grown man to stand at the peak. They usually have two "beds", or raised places to sleep. The structure is constructed out of the branches of young trees woven together and covered by straw, tarp or fabric.
We leave the camp and continue pass a few villages. By this time my thoughts have wandered and I begin thinking of a combination of what I need at market and how I wish the Knicks were doing better. Some women in my village yesterday was wearing a Starks jersey from probably 15 years ago. Sorry, I digress.
We continue down the pash toward the Sugar Cane factory. The dust is think as the large tracters and trucks pass going in the oposite direction. It stinks both the eyes and the nostrils, even through the lens of my helmet.

December 1st

2009-12-01T04:53:00.003-05:00

Anie
1/12/09

The last few months have pasted like a summer storm. I have done many things, seen many new places, ate exotic food and have matured enough to cut my mohawk (the faces of admin and villagers looked real confused the first time they saw it).

Recently I sent in my Volunteer Reporting Tool, basically a spread sheet that forces/allows volunteers to quantify the number of people they have reacted in the last 6 months. This report in conjunction with Americans asking me about my projects got me thinking about the successes of my tour in Togo.

+ I have planted over 2000 trees
+ Started a middle school gardening club
+ Started environmental education in village school
+ Taught over 100 people how to make soap (liquid and solid)
+ Developed a new method of modern animal husbandry that incorporates gradening and
rotational pasturing
+ Work with the local health clinic weighing infants
+ Made a map of the village
+ Learned how to speak French
+ Financed the high school education of two orphans from my village, they now attend two
different schools in Atakpame

It is difficult to quantify some of these success. My failures are also difficult to quantify and much more difficult to talk about. I was talking with my friend Grant (check out his blog people say good things) yesterday about how I wanted to make a blog called The Good The Bad and The Ugly. I realized the Good is indiscribable, the Bad is worst than anyone would want to read, and the Ugly might make you sick. It is difficult to explain what we do here because we speak and write with a qausi-filter. We want to make people aware but not scared. We want recognition but don't want to be martyrs. Life is difficult here, but life is also beautiful and pleasant.

new stuff after my Birthday

2009-09-16T05:16:00.002-04:00

It was a a long day after traveling through the market, talking to random people and buying meat at the slaughterhouse before we decided that today was the day that we were going to get some mohawks. We talked with the barber at "Big Baba" and got him to clean up the mohawks nice.

After we got the haircuts the barber commissioned a photographer to document this momentous occasion. Now on the mirror rest a picture of myself, James and Grant after getting our haircuts.

After that we BBQ'd and drank some Awooyo, a local beer tastes good.

I got back to post and most of the villagers there disliked the new style of my hair. I explained the historical significance that the mohawks embodies.

The picture above is of me after a rainstorm.

Lil Update

2009-07-01T04:51:00.003-04:00

Today, like every other Wednesday, is Market day in Anie. Today is also the day Santa figures out how to break out of the house. Recently I have let Santa roam free in the village. He comes into the house to eat, sleep and drink; but usually he rest outside after digging a hole in the dirt to get to the cool soil packed underneath. But when it is time to leave for another village or go to market it is a battle of whits between myself and my dog. I want to keep him in the house and he wants to see where I'm going.

Today I got him in the house with considerable whining and crying and walked down to where my moto driver was waiting. I leave my village with no problem. As a get to the next village I notice children and adults looked at me a little more than usual and pointing behind the moto. Here comes Santa. About 2 km from the house that I locked comes Santa sprinting down the dirt path, ears back and with a black plastic bag hanging out of his ass, covered in excrement. We stop he catches up and he drops the rest of the load in the ditch next to the road.

I figure I have to take him back to the house and see how he opened the door. I can't pick him up (he's real dirty) so I have him follow us back trailing about 2 m from the back tire. we get to the house and the door is closed. A window is open and the bug screen in ripped. Santa jumped up 4 feet broke the screen, opened the window and dropped to the ground. Chased me for 2 km and pooped a plastic bag during the whole ordeal. Damn.

Picture Update

2009-06-24T04:36:00.007-04:00

Posing at my garden. Look no beard.

Kids and Santa at soccer field.

When it rains the roads are like streams of refuse. (Atakpame)

Group photo after starting a tree nursery.
(Club of Mothers, Game)

View from the taxi stop outside of Atakpame.

Photos from the last few weeks

2009-05-27T05:46:00.005-04:00

Some kids in a neighboring village getting water from the river.

Kids from my village posing for a picture. My favorite pose is little Daniel's the one closest to the camera.

Three men and four sheep at the Anie market. Men are pointing and laughting, sheep are whining and tied down. Sucks to be them.

My moto driver with a homeless man in Anie in the background.

Me in my front yard with a nice sky behind me.

Santa smiles for the camera.

Last Few Weeks

2009-04-22T05:42:00.007-04:00

Lounging before dinner.

Some kids in the village throwing up the "Peace Sign" (some of them get it others just happy to be in a picture).

Mensa, the child of my neighbor.

The sun falling behind the treeline and the mountains.

Belgians, Chinese and Aliens

2009-03-26T05:22:00.002-04:00

One of the local villagers in the middle of a traditional dance.

The two Chinese men fishing at the lake.

Truck filled with cotton.

The ground is confettied with tan cigarette butts, red batteries and metallic candy wrappers. Animals aimlessly wonder in and out of the public area under the shade of the large trees. The branches of the trees have vine like roots that stretch from the sky to the ground in an attempt to penetrate the soil to gather the water that rests deep underground. Wooden and plastic chairs are placed an “L” next to the large trunks. Today my village is searching for aid like the vines in order to bloom like the flowers that fill in the ground around the refuse. Two Belgians are arriving today to discuss community development projects. Prior to their arrival tomtoms (African drums) are place on a log lying on the ground near the chairs. Children promenade in groups. The carpenters across the road work slowly on a piece of furniture. A group of elders sit next to the drums with ponderous faces and clutching walking canes. Some wear modern clothing while the more elder men where traditional mawas. The wind rustles the gigantic leaves of a palm tree. The effect resembles the cracking of a log in a bonfire. A child wails in the distance. My friend brings over his baby nephew; face covered in sauce and crumbs. As he sits down he realizes that the baby has soiled himself and he quickly searches for his older sister to push the baby on to for cleaning. A car slowly rolls into village and the villagers assemble facing the chairs. There is singing and dancing as the Belgians take their seats. Introductions are given and speeches are many. The elder of the two Belgians gets the whole village to sing a song in English; “I will never forget my village, I will never forget Togo”. Books are given to the teachers and we tour the schools and the clinic. All of these events add to the déjà vu I am experiencing of a month prior when Jean-Marie visited the village. We eat foufou and drink palm wine and sodabe. The visitors leave after a good laugh with the villagers and I return home. My neighbour asks me if I would like to see how sodabe is made and I agree to take a small journey to the creek to view his operation. It is similar to the moonshine distilleries during the prohibition in the US; producing 10L every 2 hours. Returning to he village my attention is focused on the large truck parked in the middle of the road being filled by the youth with lumber. This gives good evidence of the deforestation problem in my village and in Togo. I leave for the garden and when I arrive at the watering hole I see it has dried up as expected. I have already lost my lettuce, cucumber and peas. Seeing the green beans flourishing gives me a minute sense of accomplishment. Tonight I eat with my counterpart at his house; foufou, small fish in palm sauce. Returning home around 8pm I am exhausted. I clean the house, feed and walk the dog, fall asleep.

Early the next morning I take a bike ride down to the lake. The temperature is mild and the wind carries the powerfully sweet scent of wild flowers. The crickets make a snapping sound as the jump from one leaf to another as I pass. I begin to circle the lake and on the far side I see to people fishing with poles. I bike closer until I am about 15m above them. I descend the 45° bank that was one filled with water during the rainy season. I come upon two Chinese men fishing; one in a boat smoking a cigarette under his straw hat and another standing on a staircase hair swaying in the wind. The standing man gives me a welcoming head nod. Every minute or so the men bring in another fish about the size of a child’s hand. I depart content with my Sunday morning. On my way back to village I spot a herd of cattle and stop to talk with the herder. The conversation was most body language because we did not speak a common language. Back in village is another large truck being filled with another batch of my village’s natural resources. This time it is not being filled with wood, but instead cotton. These images conjure some complex thoughts that bounce around my head. Children jump into the bed of the truck dancing and singing in the cotton to allow for more cotton to be packed into the truck. I leave and stop into a boutique before heading home. I know I have to pick up soap for the girl that does my laundry. I feel guilty that I don’t do it myself but I have been explained that in Togolese culture a person of my “status” should not be burdened with problems like laundry. The day winds down with my clothes drying on the clothes line attached to my house. The sun goes down and the moon comes up. Stars polka-dot the sky like the refuse on the ground I saw the day before. Looking into the heavens I see a light steadily traversing the sky. It is soundless and appears in the same place every night. I think it is a satellite. It crosses Hydra at Alphard, passes between Procyon and Sirius and then splits Betelguese and Rigel above the belt of Orion. I think about how scientists scan the sky for signs of life on other planets, when cultures so much closer are still so alien to most of us in the world.

Fear and Loathing in Togo

2009-03-18T07:28:00.004-04:00

Survive the drought, I wish you well.
Survive the drought, I wish you well.
How sick am I, I wish you health.
I wish you wheels. I wish you wealth.
I wish you insight so you can see for yourself.
(Well-known Brooklyn musician)

Life in Africa is truly a battle against the opposite; death. In Togo funerals are as common as births. Like the rainy season and the dry season, Togo has seasons for birth and for death. But like the weather sometimes there is a drought in the rainy season or a rain shower during the dry season. Currently it is the season of babies in my village. However, last week we were informed about the death of a fellow volunteer in West Africa (not in Togo). I’m probably not allowed to discuss anything more than that, but we are all safe in Togo. If you hear anything on the TV or read anything online it is natural to fear a little. Hunter S. Thompson explains that fear is the best means of knowing ones own limits.
We are here to help and here to stay until our job is done.

Hail to the Chief II: Scouts, Dancing and Mass

2009-03-04T03:38:00.007-05:00

Chief as he leaves hut.

This is the parade to the church on the last day. Some kids are still wearing the boy scouts uniform.

Day 4: The village is quite; tired from the events of the last three days. Much is the same today as the other days in the first 3 months at post. The men go to the fields early and return for lunch, nap then leave for the fields again. The women fill their days doing chores; gathering wood for fires, going to the river for water, washing clothes, looking after the children, cooking and cleaning. The older youths go to school wearing uniforms and carrying notebooks. The younger children run around the village wearing little to nothing. As the sun falls behind the palm trees, the transformation of the village begins. Energy is revitalized and a generator is place in front of the boutique to supply power for the music and light that fuels the frenzy that will last to the early hours of the morning. When the fictional family the Simpsons visited Africa they described their experience dancing with locals as similar to an Almond Brothers Concert. I equate my experience with the locals as a pool party without water. The style of dance is a mixture of modern and tradition styles and gives the onlooker the impression that they are watching people tread water to the rhythm of the song. I left early but enjoyed the music while falling asleep. What is better to dream to than Bob Marley “No Women No Cry”? The lyrics “Everything gon’ be alright” make the heat a little more berable as my thoughts drift to oblivion.

Day 5: I wake up understanding what dank gym shirts feel like. The week long festivities have taken a toll. The hammocks under my eyes mirror those of the locals when we greet in the morning. This gives me relief because I have visual evidence I’m not the only one feeling like shirts.I leave my house equipped with my 6 inch Gerber blade, machete as long as my arm, backpack filled with water, snacks, emergency med kit and other necessities. On my way through the village I see that the children are all dressed identically, well sort of identically. Each has a khaki shirt and a handkerchief tied around their neck. The all wear different pants, some have shoes, others have sandals and others go barefoot. Each has a decorated walking stick and is pounding the stick into the sandy soil in rhythm to the song they sing. They are practicing for the Scouts du Togo. I am told that a representive from the Boy Scouts of Belgium is coming to village today. “My brother” will arrive shortly. I reluctantly change my plans and return to my house. I change out of my dirty jeans and work shirt and into the same stall dress pants and shirt from days ago. I return to the large tree and converse with the teachers about setting up a community development meeting. After an hour I am told to return home and will be retrieved when he arrives. I am awakened from a nap by a gun shot. “My brother” must have arrived. I once again put on my clothes and head down to the commotion. I am led to a seat amongst the elders. Three speeches are given; each translated from French to Akposso for the comprehension of the elders, women, and children. The last is given by the Belgian, Jean-Marie. He is average height, heavily built, bearded, spectacled, graying and wearing Nike shoes and Cargo pants. He presents gifts to the village – a typewriter, medicines, medical supplies, scale for weighing babies, books for the students and a microscope. We tour the clinic built by the Canadians years about but left unsupplied and understaffed. After, we went to the chief’s house for lunch and sodabe. When I get an opportunity to talk to Jean-Marie I am able to discuss my two previous travels through his native land. I flatter him by stating that the escargot and mussels in Belgium and the best in the world, far better than Paris. This is a lie. The best escargot can be found along the streams of Agou Nogbo, Togo and who doesn’t know that I have the best muscles. He explains that he travels to Africa with suitcases filled with medical supplies to give to villages like mine and returns to Europe with suitcases filled with masks and other handcrafts. He uses the money made to finance future trips to donate supplies. He leaves as soon as lunch is finished. The elders and I take inventory of the medicines and medical supplies. After this long process I head home. Santa peed on the straw mat I take naps on while I was out. Tired, worn and dehydrated I get into bed and wonder about tomorrow.

Day 6: Like flowers in a desert, the celebrations arrived spontaneously with the rain. There were beautiful and exotic. But as many have said before, “all good things must come to an end”. Like and island in the ocean or an oasis in a desert the last week was a haven, a glimpse of comfort contrasting sharply with the harshness and uncertainty that is village life. Today is the last day of the celebration, the last day on the island and the last day at the oasis. The sojourn has concluded and now the village must leave the comfort and brave the unknown. The future health and prosperity of the village rests in the able hands of the new chief. As he leaves his mud house for the first time in days the chief is accompanied by the village elders, women and children. His strong strides symbolize the ease in which he can carry the village into the future. To guide him and his people with divine assurance and acceptance the leader of the parade marches toward the hut that serves as the village church. The ceremony is called a Catholic mass, but like most things in Africa the mass is much different from its American or European counterpart. It is uniquely African. There is dancing, singing, drumming and sweating. My mind begins to wander as I realize the whole service is in Akposso. First my eyes shift to my feet; my sandal making designs in the sand floor. Next, I look at my sweat as it soaks into my Mawa (traditional African clothing). Lastly, I scan the backs of the other people amazed at the different colors and fabrics of their clothing. The priest more than vaguely reminds me of the characters in the African short story called The Trials of Brother Jeru; a critique on Christianity in Africa. After two hours of singing and dancing preaching and arm flailing, the village forms what looks to me like a conga-line to offer donations to the church. They raise $50 American, which is a substantial amount of money. I think about the priest’s SUV and the other things that the money collected could have fueled – clean water, medicine, books – but I understand the importance many people place in faith and the rewards are often internal instead of external. After 3 long, hot hours and about 3 liters of sweat I am able to return to my house for lunch and rest under the tree in my front yard. My thoughts travel through the last week in an attempt to fully grasp the significance of the change in my village’s history. As symbolized before, a journey has begun. I hope the new chief can lead the village through the pool of sharks that wait as we leave the island. If hope is the vessel that will carry the village through uncertain and trying times, I know the village will arrive at their destination unharmed because the village’s immense faith in the chief has placed him amongst the best mariners in history.

Hail to the Chief

2009-02-25T04:25:00.006-05:00

Me and new chief in secure compound.

This is after the slaughter of the goat. The blood can be seen at the bottom of the picture.

Elders waiting in front of car.

18-2-09
A rifle speaks twice to awaken the lazy late afternoon. Men, women and children drop what they are doing and frantically run toward where the shots were fired. The sounds did not result in a death but conversely signaled the arrival of the new chief and the birth of a new era in my village. Are crowd quickly forms around the taxi parked under the largest and oldest tree in village. Their singing alternates from chants to harmonies and they dance to song with their whole weight; arms swinging and more heads bobbing. The men bang on drums, the women shake gourd instruments and the children blow whistles. The village elders bow in front of the vehicle performing a prayer that involves drinking palm wine from a calabash bowl. Every once in a while they spill some on the ground for their ancestors. A few minutes seem like hours of anticipation and the frenzy intensifies in volume and excitement as the chief exits his car. Now minutes seem like seconds are the events quickly quicken in pace. A canister of baby powder is dumped on the chief’s face to give him “the good air”. This is a just term because the area around him masks the scent of sweaty bodies with a refreshing smell. He is hoisted onto the shoulders of the strongest males and carried away from the car. He is carried through the familial compounds and deposited in a house where the elder meetings convene. Three guards with their faces whitened with baby powder are posted in the doorway. The drumming, chanting, dancing and whistling follow the chief to his refuge. The air is thick with gunpowder as more explosions further increase the fever of the crowd. A man joyously circulates through the crowd dousing everyone, including myself, with baby powder. The night has fallen and it is now dark. Flashes of lightning illuminate the sky to the north. Later in the night the rains will come. In America this would be considered a bad omen, but in Africa the purification of the rains is like the baptism of the village and the new chief. The celebration will last 6 days; one day for each year the village was without leadership. It is amazing to think I am one of a handful that has witnessed an event like this in Togo. I know I’m the only foreigner to see these events take place in the history of my village.

19-2-09
Two shots ring through the damp still morning. A crowd rushes once again; this time to gather in front to the house where the chief was deposited last night. The women dance, chant, sing, and shriek. A man plays the drums. Baby powder is in the air. A goat is brought in to the circle that surrounds the elders and the new chief. With a swift cut of a knife, blood streams to the ground before the chiefs feet. The goat, not yet a sacrifice, is shaken around in a ceremonious manner until all like has been drained. Drumming, singing, dancing. Day 2 of 6 has shown to only increase the intensity that was built the night before. The frenzy has captured the village and the 6 day ceremony is all anyone can eat or breathe or think. Remarks around village call the new chief, DAWOUSSOU Marceliere, the Obama of my village. I eat lunch with the chief’s older brother. After I am taken into the guarded room to meet and take pictures.

20-2-09The night is hot, smelly and sweaty. Basically the night is an old sandal. I woke up early and cleaned my house. I put on a fresh dress shirt and pants. The director of my program is visiting today; the third day of the celebration. He arrives early in the day when the students just get out of school to buy snacks near my house. The white Landcruiser fascinates them. During training we called these vehicles “the colonizers”. We greet and head to the local school to meet with the director and the teachers. We are ushered into a classroom filled with people and a man I don’t recognize is giving a speech in Akposso. The animated man is the Deputy to the President of Togo. His speech was focused on solidifying the vote for President Faure’s reelection in 2010. We are not allowed to be present at such political events so we politely leave once we figure out what’s going on. We visit the chief in his secure compound and take a shot of grain alcohol; pouring some out before for the ancestors. We visit the garden, return home and eat lunch (foufou and chicken). After lunch we go to Anie and for cokes and my director leaves for Atakpame. I wander around Anie; bank, market, internet, meet with locals. I finish what I needed to accomplish find a moto and head home. On the way back I reflect on my last couple of days and laugh as I think about Joseph Conrad calling Africa The Heart of Darkness as a head west into the setting sun. I get home, eat dinner and fall asleep in a puddle of my own sweat.

There are 3 more days to explain; next week.

PICTURES AND STUFF

2009-02-11T04:20:00.010-05:00

The right side of this building is my house. The small building to the extreme right is my shower and latrine. A nice in here 30-40's lives in the other part of the building.

This is my neighbors wife and daughter. The wife is cooking lunch and the little girl is shucking corn. The animals are enjoying the husks leftover.

This is my dog asleep in my pants. He is doing much better now than the previous weeks.

THIS IS THE MIDDLE SCHOOL IN MY VILLAGE. I AM TRYING TO FIND FUNDING FOR THE CONSTRUCTION OF ACTUAL BUILDINGS. THE COST OF THE CONSTRUCTION WILL BE AROUND $16000 .

THIS IS THE MOST UPDATED PHOTO OF ME. SHAVED HEAD SITTING IN MY HOUSE. ITS REAL HOT BOTH INSIDE AND OUTSIDE MY HOUSE BUT INSIDE I DON'T HAVE TO WEAR A SHIRT.

Journal Feb 11 2009

The road from my village to the Route Nationale has improved since the rains have fallen. Before it looked like something was missing like cheap wine lacks body. When the rain came down it sounded like a waterfall crashing on my tin roof. The surrounding area have turned green like a lime with vegetation and the soil has turned a deep brown like rich coffee. Now I am sitting at a egg bar, where people can buy eggs, bread and coffee. I have an egg sandwich with hot pepper and onion. I have café au lait with my sandzich. After I finish I am planning on wandering through the market and visiting locals that I have come to know. I would not call them friends yet but in the future that may change.

Morning Travels

2009-02-04T04:46:00.004-05:00

Quick update: Santa is alive; the dog not the fictional giftgiver (sorry kids your parents are lying to you). Everything is still good.

Journal Feb 3 2009

A family of ducks numbering in the high 20's decends gentally with a unison splash on the gently rippling surface. The breeze carries the complex scent of sugarcane, rotting fish and brush fires. Birds, both large and small, hover over the water taking turns diving through the air in swoops returning from the water in a figure 8 with a small fish tightly grasped between talons. This scerenity can only be matched by the calmness that I have felt watching the swans in Brugge or else the ducks in Vondle Park. I leave the dock where an old and rusty boat is tethered by an equaly old and rusted metal rope to begin the 7km journey back to my village. First I must circumnavigate the lake via a path 2m wide and 15m above the waters green and blue surface. Evaporation and constant irrigation has left the water level considerably lower than when I first arrived 3 months prior to now. The Chinese (whom constructed the lake), created numerous canals to feed the vast lands of the sugarcane fields. As I traverse the path I am witness to a herd of cattle led by a man with a larger straw hat slowly striding toward the water for hydration. I continue watching the the herd as I progress on the path. On the other side of the lake a young man is swimming with a large net collecting small fish for later consumption and sale. Past the man is a women laboring over her family's laundry as her children floric at the waters edge. In the trees behind the women and kids and other herd is being led to the same source. I carry on down the path until it intersects with the larger but still rugged, rocky and sandy unpaved route that vans, motos and bicycles travel on between Game (a medium sized village) and the Route Nationale. Another man on a bike waves and greets me in Akposso when our voyages converge. 1km past this interaction yet another herd of monsterous cows line both sides of the path. They slowly munch on the vegetation and breath heavily a musty stench. Here I am able to get a closer inspection of the beasts of remarkable size. Each is at least 2m at the shoulder. I can see the flex of their muscles as they lumber toward the final destination. The horns on the giants are the size of my arm and I judge much stronger. I slowly continue in fear that the slightest agitiation will cause panic and stampeed the herd. Carefully passing through the crowd I continue down the beach-like road. I often disembark from my bike becuase the deep sand prevent my tires from spinning. Soon I reach my house and drink some water and eat a few packages of bisquits. I catch my breath resting underneath a large tree. The breeze lightly strikes the sweat that was soaked my shirt feeling nice and refreshing after the long bike ride. After I am sufficiently rested I take a shower. Now it is lunchtime.

2009-01-28T04:51:00.005-05:00

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.

LAST TWO WEEKS

2009-01-14T04:48:00.003-05:00

HEY LAST TWO WEEKS WERE GOOD. GOT SOME NEW STUFF FOR THE HOUSE ATE A BUNCH OF RANDOM FOOD (RAT, GOAT, PIG, COW, SHEEP, CHICKEN), HAD SOME NICE TIMES RUNNING TO THE LATRINE, FIGURED OUT HOW TO GET CELL SERVICE IN MY HOUSE, READ 3 BOOKS. HOPE EVERYONE IS GOOD BECUASE I AM FINE HERE. OH IF YOU DONT HAVE MY EMAIL AND LEAVE A COMMENT THAT YOU WANT TO EMAIL ME BUT DONT HAVE IT, YOU SHOULD PROBABLY LEQVE YOUR OWN EMAIL BECUASE THERE IS NO WAY IM PUTTING MINE UP FOR THE PUBLIC. JUST A RANT. SO EVERYTHING IS GOOD THE FULL MOON WAS PRETTY COOL BECUASE I COULD SEE THE WHOLE VILLAGE LIKE IT WAS DAY AT NIGHT. FOUND SOME STREET FOOD IN MY VILLAGE SO I PROBABLY WILL ONLY COOK LUNCH FROM NOW ON. NOT SURE WHAT ELSE TO WRITE. OH IF ANYONE HAS MONEY TO SEND TO HELP CONSTRUCT A SCHOOL FOR MY VILLAGE START COLLECTING BECUASE IM PROBABLY GONNA NEED SOME CONTRIBUTUIONS FROM THE US TO GET IT GOING.

THANKS, PEACE
JARRETT

HELLO

2008-12-31T05:34:00.003-05:00

ANIE, TOGO
HEY EVERYONE, SORRY I HAVEN'T POSTED ANYTHING YET. DIFFICULT IS THE WRONG WORD TO USE BUT ONLY ONE I CAN THINK OF. MY LAST 3 MONTHS OF SO HAVE BEEN GOOD, PRODUCTIVE, INFORMATIVE AND STRESSFULL. I AM NOW AT MY POST. I CAN'T TELL YOU WHERE IT IS, SECURITY REASONS. HAD A NICE XMAS IN THE REGIONAL CAPITAL. TONIGHT IS NEW YEARS IN VILLAGE. THIS MEANS PORK, FUFU AND SOME SAUCE, MUSIC, DANCING AND DRINKING GRAIN ALCOHOL. SHOULD BE A GOOD TIME. RIGHT NOW I AM AT MY MARKET, AN INTERNET CAFE JUST OPENED HERE SO NOW I HAVE SOME ACCESS TO INTERNET. ACTUALLY IT IS THE FAST INTERNET I HAVE USED IN TOGO. HOPE EVERYONE HAS A HAPPY AND SAFE NEW YEARS.

SEE YA WHEN I SEE YA,
JARRETT

P.S. USE MY EMAIL TO CONTQCT ME BECAUSE THE COMMENTS DON'T WORK

Off to Africa for Real

2008-09-19T00:22:00.003-04:00

So last night in Phili. Leaving for Togo tomorrow night. I went to dinner with a bunch of kids from the group (all your taxes put to good use). After that me, Drew, Christian, Krista and Emily went to a random bar and saw a documentary on Jedi Mind Tricks. Turned out that a bunch of them were in the crowd.

Which brings me to right now.

I'm thinking about the many shots I will be given tomorrow.

Random thoughts of the night:
25 hours of total travel time.
No more running water, continuous electricity and the normal comforts of the cushy American way.

No need to worry 'cause everything gon' be alright.
See ya when I see ya,

Jarrett

Packed

2008-09-16T21:35:00.002-04:00

I am done packing. I hope I didn't forget anything because what is packed is what I'm bringing. When I wake up I will get on the plane to Phili. Should be interesting to be with a bunch of people from different walks of life in the same Hampton Inn.

Favorite thing I packed: ping-pong balls (I read they drink a little in Togo)

Things to do

2008-09-08T16:19:00.005-04:00

A few things I hope to do in TOGO.

ANÉHO> Togo's colonial capital until 1920> Peter and Paul Church, Protestant Church, German Cemetery
DAPAONG> Fosse aux Lions
GULF OF BENIN> Whale watching in October
KARA> Kéran National Park
KOUTAMMAKOU> Mud Takienta tower-houses made by the Batammariba
LAKE TOGO
LOMÉ> Grand Marché, Fetish market, Village Artisanal.
SOKEDÉ> Fazao National Park
TOGOVILLE> Where treaty between the Germans and the ruler Mlapa III was signed> Voodoo shrines, Roman Catholic Cathedral
TOMAGBÉ> Akloa Falls 35m tall!!

Some Pictures

2008-08-22T14:07:00.007-04:00

Letter to Friends and Family from Peace Corps

2008-08-22T12:10:00.002-04:00

Dear Prospective Volunteer: Please give this letter to your family/friends and ask them to hold on to it for as long as you are in Togo.

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:

John Doe, 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.

1 Month Left

2008-08-19T00:12:00.014-04:00

Mendon, NY, USA

Hey guys just set this blog up. My 27 month adventure begins on September 17th (8-17 to 18-20 in Phili, then Togo, Africa).

Presumably, I will have little opportunity to access a computer while in Togo, so if I don't post in 3 months I most likely have forgot about the blog or have started to read poetry like Kurtz.

Not sure what I'm gonna need so there is a list of things I would like in packages sent to Togo. The address is somewhere on this page. Remember, it takes a long time to receive packages through the mail due to theft and other mishaps, so don't get all crazy. I have read that you should put everything in ziplock bags.

I will get some photos uploaded as soon as my new camera comes.