NOVEMBER
November's been a little crazy. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I haven't been "doing" a whole lot; I've been sick for about the past month, so have spent a lot of time just hanging out at places that are never too far from a toilet. Besides this, I ran out of gas, got a cat, and of course all the other random "Togo" things associated with being here.
SCHOOL CLUBS
So, I have been trying to start clubs at the high school here, particularly a soccer club for girls and an English club. It has proven to be much more challenging than I thought. In typical Mary fashion, full of optimism, I showed up at the lycee, asked who wanted to join my club, and got a list of 50+ names. We set dates and times for meetings/practices, an d then went home, super excited for the first reunion. So, of course, first girls soccer practice, I show up, and there are a bunch of older men at the field and no girl in sight. "hmm...must be a misunderstanding," I think. So i leave and plan to bring the issue up at the english club. So, first english club, I show up with a bag full of english newspapers and magazines, all ready to be the stereotypical inspirational english teacher that transforms kids lives for the better. But, the only people in the room are just a few guys hanging out-not interested in learning english. "where is the english club?" i ask. "they are in the other room," one of the boys says. I prepare to go to this other room when another boy says that they are not going to meet for english club because there is a soccer game. He says he can walk with me to the match, so we head over to the match and find all the teachers and principal in benches watching the game. they invite me over and i plop down in the front row and watch the game and get a complimentary cup of lemonade, since i am sitting with the important people. (side note: i looove juice here, but am always crossing my fingers that it was prepared well, and not laced with giardia or other disease-causing microbes....ill talk about this more later) The game is great. Everything about it reminds me of high school football games. There were the groups of students, cheering in packs, some guys even wore wigs, like some guys do in the states. A couple students just walked around the field the whole game and talking (this was me in high school). there were all the older men sitting together and (i imagine) talking about how soccer was played in the good ole days. And of course there were the players. Some of the players were all decked out and had nice soccer cleats and shin guards, while others ran and played barefoot. Regardless, they all played soccer better than i will ever be able to play in my life, even if i had super fancy gear and a personal coach..haha. When the game was over. the fans of the winning team, rushed the field and jumped onto the players. they had random pots and pans and were making a lot of celebratory noise. it was really fun to watch.
SICKNESS! - don't read if you get queasy
Almost the first thing you hear as a volunteer arriving in Togo is to pay extra attention to sanitation and be wary of things that could give you gastrointestinal diseases. In my "stage", we were all made aware of the seven "levels" of poop and educated about situations that necessitate a call to the med unit. We were also told by other older volunteers that it would be a "feat to go through the two years without shitting your pants" literally. Our group, upon hearing this, added a "level 10" to the poop spectrum (mentioned earlier) which corresponded to pooping your pants. Now, we have a "level ten club" which is rapidly growing in numbers. So anyway, that brings me to now, or actually to this whole past month. I eat street food pretty much whenever I travel or don't feel like cooking or on market days. One of the risks you take eating street food is GI disease. So, one day, I started to get sick. Nausea, extreme bloated-ness, gas, diarrhea, abdominal pain, stuff like that.... Sometimes it wasn't that disruptive. I would just have it in the morning, as if my body was saying "Ok Mary, get all the crap out from yesterday, it's a new day!" But,, after this started to make me a hermit and stay inside all day, and after referring to my SHIT book (Staying Healthy In Togo), I realized that i should call the med unit and was instructed to do a "MIF kit". MIF kits are one of those things that every peace corps togo volunteer knows about but no one else has heard of. The term often flows in and out of conversations nonchalantly, and I always need to remind myself that the rest of the world doesn't think of MIF kits on a daily or weekly basis. So anyway, the theory of a MIF kit is that, in order to compensate for the lack of good diagnostic labs in country, someone sick can send a sample of their poop in the mail to Lome where a lab in the med unit will analyze it and give you a diagnosis. Unfortunately, sometimes, the lab can't find the parasite-or whatever- in a single MIF kit. So, some people need to send in a billion MIF kits before anything is detected. Right now, I am in this process.... hopefully they will find something before i reach the billion mark. On another note, I can't imagine how Togolese who have no or limited access to medical care deal with sickness... they just live with it... or die. I had realized this before.... but, being sick now, makes me extra thankful that I have medical care...and makes me think of those Togolese who don't have it.
HARMITAN
Harmitan began! For awhile after the rains stopped, the sun was out all the time and it was soooo hot I don't know the temperature; i have no thermometer, but I know that it was hotter than it ever was before. I would lay down with the fan pointed at me and sweat. And the thing is that its not even hot season. But after a couple weeks of no rain, the collective dust from the many motos and people moving over dirt roads sort of sticks in the air. It makes me think of western films when a horse with a cowboy would ride out, with dust and dirt (..and maybe static since its an old film.. ) filling the screen. Actually i don't think I've ever seen a western film, but if i did, this is what i would expect. Anyway, the dust is good, because it blocks out the sun and cools the earth. But is bad, because you can *feel* the dust everywhere. in your hair in your eyes, in your throat. Creases of dirt appear where my elbow bends, and if i scratch my arm, i collect dust under my fingernail. This happens even while showering multiple times a day! The dryness also takes its toll. My skin is so dry, creating cracks all over my feet, hands, and lips. Dust coats everything in the house. But, besides the dust, I quite like harmitan. I was reading under a big baobab tree one day, and the shade and the breeze just put me right to sleep. It was so nice.
GAS: its really important for life
I have a gas stove, that I rely on for everything. Practically every meal must be cooked in order to kill any microbes that might be hiding on/in the food. So, basically, having a working cooking apparatus is more imperative here than in the US, where you could just eat uncooked food or hop on over to Paneras or Chipotle (mmmmm....*sigh*) Anyway, I had my first experience running out of gas, which meant that I couldn't cook until my gas could be refilled. Gas-refilling is an interesting experience that makes the most sense to me if thought of in terms of math. There are 3 different variables that will tell you when/if your gas tank will be refilled. First variable: when is the gas person coming to town. Second variable: Is your gas tank at the gas station when the gas man comes through town. Third variable: who do you know who can ensure/expedite this process. Of course there are probably a billion other variables. But, luckily for me, I was certain of the third variable, and that sort of canceled out all the other variables... so my gas got filled within a reasonable time. I don't know if that made sense to anyone else, but it made sense to me. So anyway, luckily (or perhaps unluckily-depending on how you look at it), I had no appetite that week because I was in the midst of whatever GI sickness I had/have (see above), so I didn't really need to cook anyway. But, it was a harsh reminder of how imperative gas -and cooking- are for daily life here.
POPPY AND BUSTER
So, I now have both a dog and cat. Poppy has a ton of energy and is a complete trouble-maker. He loves antagonizing Buster and the two are hilarious to watch. Poppy runs and jumps-sometimes practically landing on Buster. Buster, on the other hand, does not like the dog, preferring to hiss and scratch than to play with the dog. sometimes, they bring their fight to me... the cat will jump on my lap and the dog will run to my feet. I imagine both of them saying "Look cat/dog, mary is my buddy, so she will take my side", the dog trying to jump the cat away and the cat trying to stick to me like glue. Like usual, I try to avoid the conflict and push them both away to take their conflict somewhere else.
Buster has gone through a lot already, so I'm surprised he trusts me. The process of taking him home was a three-four hour process involving bush taxis, motos, and near death experiences (from the cat's point of view). At one point, I was on a moto with the moto driver, carrying two other bags, and hanging onto the moto, and holding onto the cat. I am so glad the cat is alive after a trip like that.
Also, I have come to the realization that I like my pets more than I like children. I don’t really want to advertise this fact, and feel a bit like the stereotypical mean old cat lady neighbor who yells at kids. And, obviously, I understand that children are more important than animals, and if push came to shove and I had to choose whether I wanted to save my animals or the children, I would definitely save children. But, it all began one day. I was sick (as I described earlier) and had gotten into one of those Togolese situations where you go out, just planning to stay out for one errand, and one thing leads to another and before you know it, you’re away from your house for 5 hours. Anyway, I generally like those kinds of days, but not when I’m sick. I finally got home after dark that day, and was watching a little kid, while their parents were busy. At first, everything was fine, but they little things caused the kid to get upset. Like, I offered a type of juice that wasn’t red in color, and I gave one type of food when the kid wanted another. At this point I just wanted to rest and have me-time. So, I gave the kid some watermelon, which finally calmed the kid down. Unfortunately, at this moment, the cat decided to stop by and say hi. The kid did not like the cat and started kicking and screaming and then started to throw the watermelon at the cat! I was so upset and grabbed the cat to save him from the watermelon-throwing-angry kid and then told the kid that was not nice and that the cat will eat you if you are not nice. Then, I just occupied the kid with coloring until the parents arrived. The night turned out well once I was on my own after that long day, but it made me realize that I definitely like my pets more than kids.
BUSH TAXI stories
Recently i took bush taxi to Kara. There was a cow in the trunk. Whenever the cow moved and tried to escape the whole taxi would move. This added to the rollercoaster effect of the bush taxi experience.
Also, recently, I was taking a bush taxi with a couple friends on the way back from thanksgiving. We were coming from south to north, and, as expected, once we entered the kara region, we began to see lots of mountains. soon we were speeding up the mountain, passing trucks and slower moving mopeds. but, as we were nearing the top, our speed-demon van started to slow to a crawl, and soon stopped. we had broken down on the side of a mountain. Like typical Togolese roads on mountains, this was not a lined road with safety railings. so, all the passengers got out, and the driver let the van rolled backwards down the hill. he stopped the van,, got out, and started flagging down any drivers who could potentially help our situation. We, the passengers, found a spot a safe distance away from the road and watched our driver trying to get help from the giant trucks barreling downhill. i henceforth commenced searching for monkeys (i had been told that monkeys live in the mountains, but had yet to see any). i didn't find any monkeys, but our driver found help, and within half an hour, we were on our way up the mountain again.
HILLING FETE
So, my friend Kristine's village had a traditional African "fete" (party/ceremony thing) of the Kabye people called Hilling and I decided to go see it! In this fete, men dress up as women to varying degrees ranging from just wearing a skirt to wearing skirts, stuffing bras, wearing makeup and piercing ears. They run through the streets and then begin whipping each other. At first, the whipping/fighting was very organized, with the crowd making a large clearing and two men entering the clearing at a time to commence fighting. The fight was composed of two guys, both dressed up and both carrying whips. Then, they would start whipping each other. At some point (we never figured out how), the fight would stop. The main goal of each participant was not to cry or show emotion upon being whipped. after each fight, the men would crowd around the two fighters, dancing and seeing and yelling in celebration. After a few minutes of organized fighting, (as your may expect with boys/men), the organization disappeared as the boys all wanted to join in on the whipping fight. It was crazy, chaotic, but funny and fun and full of energy. It seemed like everyone was having a good time. Although, the whips were real; they broke real skin and created real wounds. I wasn't quite sure how I thought of this. It was an interesting traditional fete, and part of the culture. But at the same time, there is blood, potential infections, and tons of people all in close proximity to each other. But regardless, it was an interesting experience.
THE HOSPITAL
I’ve still been spending a lot of time at the hospital and I still love it there. There are so many women who are helped by the hospital. Although, I’m starting to realize how expensive it can be for people. I’ve been looking through people’s medical cards, which includes information on any analyses or medications or diagnoses and costs. Some of the things add up so quickly! Patients must pay for things like gloves and syringes. Also, Theres a lot of vitamin B and C being precscribed, which gave me the idea of maybe doing a nutrition sensibilization of some sort. Either with the staff or with patients. Because why should they buy vitamin B and C tablets when they may just need to make a few diet changes that may not cost much. Anyway, just ideas for now. I have a lot of ideas, and need to organize them and organize people before I do anything. I saw the most malnourished baby I've ever seen in my life. I have no idea how its still alive. It was 5 months old, but under 2kg. I am glad the mother took her to the hospital. It was Friday, the day when all mothers being their babies to the hospital to be weighed (monitored for healthy growth) and vaccinated. There are sooo many women and babies. So, usually I see about one or two malnourished babies each Friday.
WHEN HARRY MET SALLY
One of my peace corps volunteer-mates gave me the movie When Harry Met Sally for my computer. So, having this as the only movie at my disposal, I have watched it countless times. I've probably watched the first half at least ten times, but I've only seen the end maybe three times. (I tend to fall asleep during movies). Anyway, I now love this movie and know all the words (at least for the first hour-ish of the movie)
THANKSGIVING
About 50 peace corps volunteers all got together at a hotel in the Central region for thanksgiving. We had 4 turkeys, tons of mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, and tons of different pies and desserts. Oh my, it was one of my favorite meals of all time. Everyone made something and I was assigned green bean casserole. I had never made it before, but decided i would give it a shot. It looked completely awful; i did not even try it. It reminded me of the cat's throw-up from earlier in the week. So, needless to say, I did not taste any and upon arrival, I very discreetly placed it on the communal table, so no one would know that the cat-throw-up-green bean casserole was mine. But, by the end of the night it was gone! So, either people were drunk when they chose to eat it, or it was actually good! Anyway, I don't think I will make green bean casserole again.
