1: Moto
rides.
I
really grew to appreciate the fact that there were no car taxis in my village,
so that the only way out was to call a motorcycle taxi driver to come and pick
me up. I will not, however, miss that sexy helmet.
2: A
beautiful view ten minutes from my house.
3: The sound
of rain on my tin roof.
4: Listening
to, sitting and working with people.
I
never became conversationally fluent in Kabiyé, but I learned to value just
being in the presence of other people. I loved sitting with the women while
they all talked and worked together.
5: Laughs,
games, and dancing with girls club.
I
did several different projects during my service, but girls club was by far my
favorite. I looked forward to club every week, and I built some deep
relationships with a few of them.
6: Candles
at night.
I’m
actually kind of glad I didn’t have electricity.
7: Time to
read so many books.
My
favorites were The Shadow of the Wind (thanks, Veronica, for the
recommendation!) and Harry Potter.
8: Mango
season.
I’d
wake up and go out to the mango tree for breakfast.
9:
Physicality of my everyday life.
I
washed my clothes by hand, went to the well to get water, and walked 2-4 miles
per day.
10: Family
plan.
For
most of my service, volunteers could call each other for free. I have to credit the family plan with
keeping me sane and, a biggie, offering a constant opportunity to speak
English.
11: Juices.
Hibiscus,
orange, lemon, and baobab juice were available all the time. So good.
12: Bright
colors.
Everything
is so vibrant: clothing, nature, food, sunsets.
13: Koi!
One
of my favorite Kabiyé expressions –means “what?!” or “I am in a state of shock
and disbelief.” Also “king king king!”, which means “a lot” or “really”. And “tdoh”,
which means “okay”.
14: Seeing
Papa work in his workshop.
My
host dad is a carpenter. He makes chairs and tables and whatever other requests
people have.
15: Hanging
out with Maman in her tchouk stand.
My
host mom makes beer out of sorghum for a living, and every Saturday she sells
it in the market. I spent a lot of Saturday afternoons sitting in her stand,
talking and hanging out with people as they came to buy beer.
16: Kara
pool.
Fortunately,
almost every day in Togo is warm enough for a swim.
17: The
Shanks.
Jesse,
Tiffany, and their two sons, Joshua and Owen, were an oasis of fellowship and
good food during my service. Their friendship and support was invaluable to me.
18: Lomé
beach.
Even
though it’s the #1 place where people get robbed in Togo and there are piles of
human waste you have to dodge as you take your afternoon stroll, the ocean view
really pretty :)
19: All the
weird food that came out of my kitchen that I somehow pathetically found to be
delicious.
Cheese
made out of milk powder, couscous doused in barbeque sauce, and rice with a
mound of curry powder. Sriracha straight out of the bottle is also more filling
and delicious than you might expect.
19.5: All
the food that came out of my host mom’s kitchen that I rightfully came to
deeply appreciate.
Togolese
food is good. Corn paste and smashed yams don’t sound so appetizing, but let me
tell you, they definitely can be. Gboma and sesame sauces are going to be
pretty sorely missed by my stomach. Hot peppers and slimy sauces took some
getting used to, but, I can honestly say now that I’m going to be missing it.
20: Normalcy
of discussing bodily functions/issues with other volunteers.
The
consistency of your bowl movements, color of your urine, and the strange rash
on your ass became dinner table topics.
21: My host
brother, Gabin, and sister, Léa.
I
love them like we have the same parents – waaaaah.
22: Mail.
I
loved going to the post office on Wednesdays and picking up letters from
friends and family. I loved opening them. I loved reading them. I loved
replying to them. Basically, I loved everything about it.
23: Pace and
simplicity of life.
Which,
as you may guess, is quite a bit slower and simpler. You cook food when you’re
hungry, sleep when you’re tired, and work until your work is finished. Pretty
much, schedules don’t exist. You just go with the flow – everything feels so
natural.
24: Sense of
community.
When
there is a party, it’s for everybody. Grandmas and 14 year-olds are dancing in
the same circle and sons and fathers are sitting and drinking beers together.
Out of salt? Ask your neighbor. Don’t feel like watching your kids? Tell them
to go next door. Need to pick your nose? No one’s going to judge you. Broke
your leg and need people to take you places and cook for you? You’ve got
nothing to worry about.
25: How easy
it is to get hit on… or even proposed to.
Seriously,
I was a hot commodity in Togo. I’m going to mark it up to my good looks, whit,
and charm.
26: How
acceptable it is to look grungy every day… and still get hit on and proposed to.
Bras
were for dressing up days, which were not often. I think they think that maybe
looking like you haven’t showered in days or washed your clothes in couple
months is just how Americans prefer to look – I run with it.
27: Having
as much time to get ready in the morning as I want.
I
took a good two hours every morning to eat breakfast, listen to the radio, sip
on coffee, and read my Bible.
28: Buying
all my food in the market.
Made
me feel really healthy and organic and hipster. But it all tasted really good
too.
29: The
opportunity to learn so many different and unique things.
How
to make soja, how to raise bees, how to graft a mango tree, how to make soap,
how to do the dance ‘Corde a Sauter’, how to speak French and Kabiyé, and how
to hang a mosquito net. These are all things that will most likely be worthless
for the rest of my life unless I am a contestant on Jeopardy someday, but it
has nonetheless been really interesting and valuable to me.
30:
Funerals.
In
Togo, funerals are a celebration. The community prepares a meal and everyone
sings and dances to celebrate the life of the person who passed away. I thought
it was a really meaningful way to look at death and life.
31:
Diversity.
Religious,
ethnic, and geographic diversity, specifically. I think, but I’m not entirely
sure, that there are over 40 different languages spoken in Togo. Can you
imagine? I can, but that’s only because I’ve been there. Up north, Togo is desert-ish
and in the south you feel like you’re breathing water and that the Amazon is
probably only a dozen miles away. Fetishism is really big, there are a lot of
Muslims, and then, of course, numerous branches of Christianity in Togo. People
are really accepting of different beliefs.
32: Relationships.
I
know I’ve already mentioned a few, but I decided I’d just get the rest out
there. I’m going to miss Irene and Rose sitting and laughing and talking on my
porch, tea time with Eli and Simone, learning Kabiyé with Claudine, playing
cards with Gabin and Léa, dancing with girls’ club, sitting with Edite and
Simplice under the mango trees on Saturday afternoons, cooking with Maman, playing
board games with the Shanks, praying with Jean, talking about life and all its
twists and turns with Marie, and attempting to speak Spanish with Daniel. And,
finally, my relationships with other PCV’s have been invaluable – esp. Matt,
Sebastian, Matt and Julie – I looooove you!
33:
Realizing how loud nature is.
At
night I could hear bats, crickets, frogs/toads, birds, wind, etc. It kind of
felt like I was sleeping outside. Except for most of the year I was covered in
a blanket of sweat. Which, actually, still may have been the case had I ever
decided to sleep outside.
34: Having
such a high appreciation for the simple pleasures in life.
Never
have I ever been so in awe and deeply appreciative of paved roads, chocolate
bars, charged electronics, running water, hot showers, Mexican food, how easy
it is to speak English, good cell phone reception, and shade/wind/fans/the
general sensation of feeling chilly, as I have been in Togo.
35: Having a
need and having it so satisfactorily satisfied.
You’ll
be walking on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere with sweat dribbling down
your back, and at the key moment a motorcycle will stop and pick you up and
take you to your destination. You’ll be walking through the market having looked
for shea butter for an hour, just about to give up, and a woman will walk by
you with more shea butter than you could possible want piled on top of her
head.
36:
Perceptiveness/magical eyes Togolese have.
They
can recognize people from a good half mile away. My host mom remembers where I
set my cell phone last night. Lea notices that I missed a spot on the dish I’m
washing. Although it can be annoying sometimes, it’s usually very helpful and
really different from Americans. I think we are constantly over stimulated and
tend to overlook small details.
37: The
Togolese Card Game (le jeu togolais)
I’m
really good at it. I mean it’s mostly luck, but what little logic is required,
I execute quite strategically.
38: Complete
acceptance of people who can’t sing.
Although
it can be a little hard on the ears sometimes, it’s a beautiful thing. It
doesn’t matter if we’ve got 5 different keys going on at the same time,
everyone joins in and contributes their own musical ideas to what’s going on.
39: How cheap things are.
80
cent flip flops, 20 cent dinner, $14 monthly rent, $1 for a 25km taxi ride. The
dollar menu is going to be feeling expensive.
