Picking Up The Ball

"Never give up, for that is just the place and time

that the tide will turn.”    ~Harriet Beecher Stowe

Waving the flag in Kpalime - Go Cougs!

It feels so amazing that I have been back in Togo for one week already. My return trip seemed like it would never end, with canceled flights, and layovers in Atlanta, Brussels, and Casablanca before finally landing in Lome at 3am. As I stepped out of the plane, the familiar smell of Togo just hit me in the face, a combination of sweet spiciness mixed with dirt, sweat, and humidity. Thankfully, the Peace Corps let me stay in the medical unit for a couple of nights before I left for my site, giving me a chance to sleep and readjust to Togo time. 
 

The first thing I did when I got to Kpalime, after unloading my stuff, was to CLEAN MY HOUSE. Yikes. There was a layer of dust/dirt on every surface. Thank you, harmattan winds. After about 3 hours of cleaning, I walked over to the home of my school director and his family. We enjoyed fried plantains together while visiting, and I surprised his children with a few small toys and Tootsie Rolls, which they loved! 

Then I headed over to see Chantal's family. My sudden exit from Africa, without a chance for goodbyes, left many people, especially the children, not knowing what happened, or if they would ever see me again. As I got closer to the Donvide's home, little Grace spotted me and ran all the way down the road with a smile and outstretched arms saying “Emily! Emily!” That moment felt like a scene in a movie. The warm welcome I received was really incredible. I love these people.

Now I feel like I am playing catch-up, making up for time lost, back at school with my class, English Club, choosing students for summer camps, working on the new library, organizing our city-wide spelling bee, preparing for a visit from the Acting Director of the Peace Corps...and of course, most importantly, spending time with my neighbor kids! So my visit home is behind me and life in Togo is reality once again. I feel energized and excited to finish things up on a high note, and make the most of every remaining moment. I recently learned that our COS (Close of Service) date has been set for August 7th. Five more months.

It's time to sing and dance! 

Hello Again, Hello

"It's not how far you fall, but how high you bounce that counts."
~Zig Ziglar

 

The day is finally here. After 45 days of medical leave, I have been approved to return to Togo. I am so happy I wasn't medically separated, and that my PT pushed me to reach this deadline. Thank you to the team at Harbor Physical Therapy; you are all awesome people. My neck is much better now. I am pain free. I can do all household chores and even exercise workouts. I still need to improve my strength, but have lots of exercises that I will continue in Togo.

The silver lining to the accident was having this opportunity to heal at home, surrounded by friends and family. I met my adorable nephew Kai for the first time, visited friends in Seattle, watched the Seahawks win the Super Bowl, and even went on a midnight stroll through the snow (not something I was expecting to do this winter!) It wasn't all fun and games though. Wearing a neck brace 24 hours a day for four weeks made getting a good night's sleep pretty hard, and taking a shower with a brace was annoying.

I'm really looking forward to getting back to Togo to finish my work. We're coming down the home stretch with only 6 months left, but I still have so much to do! My school will be building its library, I have teaching and clubs to facilitate, and an end-of-the-school-year, city-wide spelling bee to organize. The time is going to fly, and before I know it I'll be back in Gig Harbor, just in time to celebrate Kai's 1st birthday.

When I decided to enter the Peace Corps and move to Togo, feedback from friends and family was filled with worry and concern for my health and safety. I heard all the horror stories. Lots of doom and gloom. I know some people would probably be discouraged after experiencing such a horrible accident, and might not want to consider another African adventure. Surprisingly, I feel exactly the opposite. I won't let fear drive me away from my dreams. I'm already planning another safari trip in Africa after I leave Togo. I've learned to leave the past in the past, and now it's time to lean forward.

Shit Happens

"When something goes wrong in your life, just yell, 'plot twist!' and move on."

 

Hi everyone, I know it’s been a while since I last blogged, but it has been a crazy week. I’m finally getting around to putting everything into words. My mom came to spend Christmas and New Years with me. We spent five days in Togo and then headed down to South Africa for a safari tour. Having my mom in Togo for Christmas was amazing! I loved showing her around my town and introducing her to all my Togolese friends.

 On December 28^th we joined up with a tour in South Africa and on the 29^th headed for Kruger National Park to see giraffes, lions, water buffalo and all the rest the park has to offer. We were with a great group of people from all over the world: USA, England, Switzerland, Australia and Norway. Unfortunately, about 1.5 hours away from the park we got into a terrible car accident.


It was a gray, rainy day. We were approaching a sharp curve in the road and our driver was going too fast for the slippery conditions. He braked hard to slow down, but the bus slid sideways, broke through the guard rail, and rolled down a steep hill about three times. It was one of the most terrifying days of my life, and something that will stay with all of us forever. We had just gotten back on the bus from a bathroom break and many of us had not fastened seat belts yet, so we got tossed around the bus with every roll, over and over. I don’t remember the rolling because I hit my head right away. I just remember waking up in a pile of people at the bottom and feeling horrible pain all over my body. I tried to move, but it was just too difficult. My mom was hanging by her seat belt above me and she unbuckled, jumped down, and got me to crawl out of an opening in the roof. It was sheer chaos, with crying, screaming, bleeding, and two people were pinned under the bus….an absolute nightmare. It took about 30 minutes for the police to arrive, and an hour for the first ambulances to arrive.

At the hospital everyone was treated and several were admitted. I spent four days there, ending up in a neck brace because of sprained/torn ligaments in my cervical spine. Mom suffered a black eye, small eyebrow laceration, and sprained thumb. There were many more serious injuries, and everyone was bumped up and bruised. We lost our phone in the crash, which made calling home difficult. The camera with all the pics of our Togo adventures was also lost, so disappointing, but we didn’t lose our lives.

The week following the accident was not the adventure we had planned, but like everything else in life, there are some good things that come from bad. A group of people who barely knew each other became supportive friends. I was reminded of the importance of things like travel insurance, seat belts, zippers on bags, and moms. The town of Nelspruit was beautiful, much like Seattle’s rainy green, only with palm trees. I would love to see more of South Africa someday, I’ll be back.

 I can’t forget to mention how AMAZING the Peace Corps has been, both here in South Africa and in Togo: providing us rides, medical care, lodging, helping my mom with her travel arrangements, and just being there for us in every way possible.

 

We are ending our vacation with a little R&R in beautiful Pretoria before heading home for my medical leave. I’m hoping to make a quick recovery and get back to Kpalime as soon as I can.

Bed & Breakfast in Pretoria

Harassment

“Courage doesn’t always roar. Sometimes courage is the little voice
at the end of the day that says “I’ll try again tomorrow.”
~Mary Anne Radmacher

Okay, so being a “Yovo” (white) in Togo automatically makes me stand out. It’s almost the equivalent to seeing a woman walking down the street in the U.S. wearing a burka or maybe a clown costume. Not only do people here stare and do a double take when they see me, they shout out things or occasionally approach me to try and stop me while I am walking down the road. I try not to be too bothered by this, and just ignore them and keep moving. I’ve only once had to defend myself by smacking a man with my water bottle because he came at me and grabbed me hard by my arms. Usually people just shout things at me.

Here are some typical comments: 

•  "Whitey! Whitey!"
• "Hello my sister"
• "You are pretty to have"
• "You must give me something/100cfa"
•  "Hello my angel, how are you?"
• "I am hungry, you must give me money"
• "Where are you going?"
• "tsssss tsssss......tsssssss....tssssssss.......HEY, HEY!"
• "Yovo, come see"
• kissing, squeaky sound

I don't mean to complain or whine here. I just want to explain what it's like to be white living in a big Togolese city. I don't have trouble ignoring things the little kids say, since they are so innocent, just doing what they see the other kids doing. It's the adults who bug me the most, because it seems like they should be old enough to know better, mature enough to show some restraint, or manners, or at least empathy.  I mean, I would NEVER call out "Hey Asian/red-head/black/fatty, etc." across the street to get someone's attention. I guess different cultures have different ideas about what is and is not rude.

These episodes make me feel everything from annoyed, to scared, to ANGRY. I try to remind myself to find the courage and patience to see beyond it, and feel compassion for the people harassing me. Yes, I am white and American. I grew up having more than they will probably ever have. I am only here in Togo for two years, and then I will return to the pristine, shiny United States, and they will still be here in Togo. I can understand possible feelings of resentment towards me, but I can't accept it as a valid excuse for this poor behavior.

On my bad days I just want to scream back at these people, and I admit I have lost my temper a few times. On my good days I try to remember that before forming an opinion about someone or passing judgment on them, we should think about what it would be like to live in their shoes, or in this case, flip flops.

The Daily Grind

  "We cannot do everything in Africa,

but doing nothing is not an option."

                                                                ~Lee H. Hamilton

My main job as an English and Gender Education Volunteer in Togo is teaching English. I teach four days a week this year, Monday-Thursday. The level of my class is equivalent to 7th or 8th grade back in America, but, most of my students are older than the typical 7th or 8th grader in the U.S. Failing a grade and having to repeat 1-2 times is not unusual here; it is quite common. This means that in middle school there are many students in their mid to late teens.

  

Last year I only had 17 students and this year I have 53. Last year I was able to learn names pretty quickly, but this year is a little more challenging. It’s not more difficult just because I have more students, but also because many of my students like to be called by their last name, and 29 of my students have last names that start with an “A” and sound very similar.

Overall, I have come to love teaching, and the time I spend in the classroom is really the highlight of my day. However, it’s not all BLISS.  Some days are really hard. About half my students are very motivated, pay attention, take notes, and do their homework. The other half don’t do much and only take down notes if I hover over them like a hawk, which is no fun. These students are the older students in my class, kids who have failed many times and really have no interest in school. They sit in the back and make fun of my American accent. They are constantly chatting and 15 of them have never done one single homework assignment all year. Maybe when they have to show their report card to their parents at the end of the trimester they will clean up their act, but probably not.  

In the meantime, my good students lift my spirits. From time to time they have said to me during class “Just leave them and keep going,” (Referring to the students in the back who are talking and not paying attention). When I see these students doing well and getting 100% on quizzes, I know I must be doing something right and that the lessons seem to be sinking in. It is so gratifying to see those who are eager to learn, willing to listen, trying so hard to learn English, which is their THIRD language, after Ewe and French!

I suppose no matter where you teach, you are going to find students who are more motivated and less motivated. That’s not too surprising. Then there are cultural differences: Differences in the value placed on education, different family dynamics, children who quit school to work, different laws about educational requirements, lack of vision to see how education could change in their lives….. Part of my daily grind is to try to keep the hope alive that I might in some small way be making a difference in these students’ lives. Once I had a young girl tell me that she wanted to be a teacher when she grew up, because I was the first woman teacher she had ever known. I’m not moving mountains, but hey, it’s a start. 

My Library Project

“A library outranks any other one thing
a community can do to benefit its people.
It is a never failing spring in the desert.”
~Andrew Carnegie

I am trying to raise money to build a library for our school here in Kpalime, with construction work starting on February 1st.  We have a room, but it needs paint, flooring, a ceiling, bookshelves, furniture, and most importantly, BOOKS. We need text books for classes K-8, reference books, and it would also be great to have a collection of books for recreational reading. The way it is now, students only have notebooks in class to write info from the blackboard. That's it. And that's only the ones who can afford to buy their own notebook. 

Here is a link to my project, where you can make a tax-deductible contribution! ANY amount you can donate will be greatly appreciated...no amount is too small. Even one book is more than most of these classrooms have right now. Thank you so much for helping to improve education and introduce a love of reading to these very deserving children. 

https://donate.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=14-693-001

Togo Trash

"The darkest thing about Africa has always been our ignorance of it." 
~George Kimble

Probably the most surprising thing about Togo to me has been the contrast between this lovely country and beautiful people, with the trash alongside the roads, revealing an area where development work is still left to be done. Maybe with all the other challenges facing them, trash disposal is low on their list of ideas for needed improvements.  There isn’t an ingrained belief in Togo, like there is in America, that “littering is bad,” because in Togo it’s really the only way to dispose of your trash. Compounds are swept clean every day, but afterwards, trash is either thrown on the side of the road, or you can save it for later, when you can go out to the road and burn a whole pile of trash that you have accumulated. The trash will end up on the side of the road, either burned or not.

The smell of burning trash is a scent that you quickly become used to while living here. On my street there are about three burn piles along the side of the road where people dispose of their trash. Every couple of days someone will light the piles on fire and we kind of randomly take turns doing this.

The really disturbing thing isn’t just the environmental problem of having trash everywhere, but also the health hazard facing the animals and small children who like to go and pick through the trash. Kids love to search for anything that they can turn into a toy or just mess around with. The goats and chickens roam through and eat whatever seems appetizing. A volunteer friend of mine told me that once in her village they killed a goat to eat, and when they opened the stomach there were a bunch of small black plastic bags inside. Ewww.  Not good…for the people or the goat.