30 June 2010
A tough moment.
Yesterday I loaned another 5 mille to a high school kid who already (still) owes me 56.000 for the digital camera I had timefortea bring over. I really didn’t want to do it (loan the 5 mille). I felt so yucky about it that I was grumpy to the point of tears for several hours. Of course my aching leg contributed to that malaise as well.
My relationship with money has gotten even more precarious living here where people simply assume that I am rich because of my skin color. This strikes me as wholly unfair while at the same time devastatingly truthful. For most of my life I have been significantly less ‘well-off’ than most of my schoolmates. I’ve worked since I was a pre-teen and I take a lot of pride in being able to support myself with jobs that are bigger in social value than salary. But when it comes down to it, I know I’m making sacrifices. I could be earning a lot of money but I chose to be poor – if earning less than $3000 a year isn’t poor, I don’t know what is – and work in a difficult environment.
So when the little kid who lives at the top of the hill yells out my name as I’m puffing past him on my bike, I turn and say hello cheerfully. But when he follows up my greeting with a “donne-moi cent francs [give me 100 francs]”, I explode. Literally. I guess it’d been a tough day in Tsevie surrounded my mostly strangers and I was looking forward to my village, my own little “Cheers” where everybody knows my name. My anger was over the top. I slammed on the brakes, tires skidding on the sandy road, and demanded, “What did you just say?!”
I yelled out “I will never greet you again if you ask me for money”
“Donne-moi cent francs yovo”
I reigned in my boiling temper and instead of jumping off the bike to practice some of the corporal punishment that my teacher colleagues are always recommending, I remounted and rode off, muttering to myself.
The sheer force of my anger surprised me. I think it was partly based on shock- this is my village, people jknow me, I’ve greeted this kid many times before – where did he get the message that I’m a vending machine? I didn’t see it coming.
I know that a Togolese person would have reacted totally differently. Perhaps she would have handed over the money; if not, she would have made a little joke – “Oh, maybe tomorrow” the red cloud of anger would never have occurred to her.
We looked at average salaries in Togo the other day when I was with the new group of trainees, to help describe the economic state of the country. As a PCV I earn just a little more than a high school professor and just a little less than a state-paid doctor. Both of these professionals support families – not just their own but their whole extended family. With success comes responsibility, a successful family member is expected to take in the children of poor relatives, pay for their schooling, he is expected to take on the lion’s share of paying for family expenses like funerals, weddings, and hospital bills. A typical high school prof’s salary is 100.000, is not sufficient for all these responsibilities, so most teachers in villages have farms, own small shops, and/or offer tutoring to supplement their income. The majority of the population of course, are not professors. Based on GNP, the average amount of money an adult in Togo earns is 20.000F CFA per month. If 100.000 is not sufficient – have can 20.000 even be survivable?
So yes, I’m rich. I have disposable income. But the real reason why I’m rich is because I have an education, training, American citizenship. I can go somewhere else and succeed. A wealth of opportunity.
30 June 2010
12 June 2010
Dear Family
9 June 2010
Letter to my family
Dear family,
I’m sitting in my little house, enjoying the cleanliness so much I don’t want to move and disturb it (I had two kids come over yesterday to help me clean). The Country Director and my Program Director came by my house yesterday to interview me for the volunteer leader position. I received confirmation this morning that I’ve got the “job” and I’ll be moving to Atakpamé – a beautiful hilly city in the Plateau region. I don’t know exactly where I’ll be living but there is a house a previous volunteer lived in that is situated on a hill overlooking the city, has floors covered in colorful tile and a succulent lime tree just outside the kitchen window. I’ve got my sights set on that lovely place.
But in the meantime, I’m at home for about another month and a half, in Mission Tové. Fare from the easy-going leavetaking I’d anticipated, I will be running around finishing up a few projects and taking care of a new one – I was just granted the money for a water and sanitation project for which we’ll be building a rainwater-collecting cistern at the junior high where I teach English and have my business club. It’s going to be stressful, but I’m happy to be leaving a physical mark on the community, especially in a way that addresses such a pressing need.
We’re combining the cistern-building with a series of presentations on the importance of washing your hands (with soap) before meals and after using the WC. I’m going to train my business club members to be peer educators so that they will have some investment in the hand-washing element of the project and will hopefully take on some follow-up, making sure the system is used and maintained properly. As part of the workshop, each class will make about 20 liters of liquid soap which should get them through a significant amount of the school year. I’m hoping the combination of better access to clean water and developing hand-washing habits will make a huge improvement on the health of students and thereby their academic (and life) achievements. No small goals here.
Letter to my family
Dear family,
I’m sitting in my little house, enjoying the cleanliness so much I don’t want to move and disturb it (I had two kids come over yesterday to help me clean). The Country Director and my Program Director came by my house yesterday to interview me for the volunteer leader position. I received confirmation this morning that I’ve got the “job” and I’ll be moving to Atakpamé – a beautiful hilly city in the Plateau region. I don’t know exactly where I’ll be living but there is a house a previous volunteer lived in that is situated on a hill overlooking the city, has floors covered in colorful tile and a succulent lime tree just outside the kitchen window. I’ve got my sights set on that lovely place.
But in the meantime, I’m at home for about another month and a half, in Mission Tové. Fare from the easy-going leavetaking I’d anticipated, I will be running around finishing up a few projects and taking care of a new one – I was just granted the money for a water and sanitation project for which we’ll be building a rainwater-collecting cistern at the junior high where I teach English and have my business club. It’s going to be stressful, but I’m happy to be leaving a physical mark on the community, especially in a way that addresses such a pressing need.
We’re combining the cistern-building with a series of presentations on the importance of washing your hands (with soap) before meals and after using the WC. I’m going to train my business club members to be peer educators so that they will have some investment in the hand-washing element of the project and will hopefully take on some follow-up, making sure the system is used and maintained properly. As part of the workshop, each class will make about 20 liters of liquid soap which should get them through a significant amount of the school year. I’m hoping the combination of better access to clean water and developing hand-washing habits will make a huge improvement on the health of students and thereby their academic (and life) achievements. No small goals here.
Transportation in Togo
9 June 2010
It loomed in front of us, the gasoline truck, sprawled across the highway like a great beast, life pouring from its torn belly. The smallest spark would have cause a fire to blow the asphalt off the road. Horror filled me as I watched tiny children soaked in gasoline running home with jugs of the stuff on their heads; rushing back to fill another container. Men, women, taxi drivers, moto drivers, clothes soaked in gasoline, reached out to take their fill of the precious liquid seeping from the downed truck. The cab of the truck had fully separated from the cylinder; the driver looked unharmed but shaky as he paced on the side of the road, speaking into his cell phone. His apprentice driver was seated on the ground, head cradled in his hands, rocking slightly, still devastated by the shock of such an accident.
My stomach writhed and my heart thundered as we slowly passed between the gushing cylinder and the truck cab. One rock kicked off by our wheels, one piece of glass magnifying the equatorial sun, and we would all die… very painfully. My palpable fear was a strange counterpart to the sheer joy in the faces of the women rushing toward the truck with the big bowls usually used for collecting water. Shiny, happy people. Shiny with the slick shimmer of gasoline. The bright smiles on the kids’ faces made me shiver with visions of horror. But to this tiny, lucky village, this accident may prove to be their main source of income for the next six months. One liter of gasoline sells for 500-600FCFA. Each jug I saw carried away contains about 20 liters. One jug is enough money to travel from the ocean in Lome to the northern border with Burkina Faso. Is this the silver lining?
Automobile accidents are common here – we like to joke that when cars die in Europe, they’re sent to Ghana to rot; when they are finished in Ghana, they arrive in Togo. And the roads are bad, especially during and right after rainy season. An aspect that I’d never really picked up on until recently is the state of the tires. At Camp UNITE this year, we started a new “challenge” – a team-building physical/strategy game – that involves three tires per team. So we sent out one of the organizers to buy some used tires. He came back with 6 tires that were completely bare. Every single one was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Who had these things on their car long enough to end up in such a state?! I’ve started looking at tires more often now. I noticed that on trucks, if a tire is really worn down, they won’t stop using it – just put it somewhere in the middle, so I guess at least it’s not responsible for steering? Yikes.
It loomed in front of us, the gasoline truck, sprawled across the highway like a great beast, life pouring from its torn belly. The smallest spark would have cause a fire to blow the asphalt off the road. Horror filled me as I watched tiny children soaked in gasoline running home with jugs of the stuff on their heads; rushing back to fill another container. Men, women, taxi drivers, moto drivers, clothes soaked in gasoline, reached out to take their fill of the precious liquid seeping from the downed truck. The cab of the truck had fully separated from the cylinder; the driver looked unharmed but shaky as he paced on the side of the road, speaking into his cell phone. His apprentice driver was seated on the ground, head cradled in his hands, rocking slightly, still devastated by the shock of such an accident.
My stomach writhed and my heart thundered as we slowly passed between the gushing cylinder and the truck cab. One rock kicked off by our wheels, one piece of glass magnifying the equatorial sun, and we would all die… very painfully. My palpable fear was a strange counterpart to the sheer joy in the faces of the women rushing toward the truck with the big bowls usually used for collecting water. Shiny, happy people. Shiny with the slick shimmer of gasoline. The bright smiles on the kids’ faces made me shiver with visions of horror. But to this tiny, lucky village, this accident may prove to be their main source of income for the next six months. One liter of gasoline sells for 500-600FCFA. Each jug I saw carried away contains about 20 liters. One jug is enough money to travel from the ocean in Lome to the northern border with Burkina Faso. Is this the silver lining?
Automobile accidents are common here – we like to joke that when cars die in Europe, they’re sent to Ghana to rot; when they are finished in Ghana, they arrive in Togo. And the roads are bad, especially during and right after rainy season. An aspect that I’d never really picked up on until recently is the state of the tires. At Camp UNITE this year, we started a new “challenge” – a team-building physical/strategy game – that involves three tires per team. So we sent out one of the organizers to buy some used tires. He came back with 6 tires that were completely bare. Every single one was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. Who had these things on their car long enough to end up in such a state?! I’ve started looking at tires more often now. I noticed that on trucks, if a tire is really worn down, they won’t stop using it – just put it somewhere in the middle, so I guess at least it’s not responsible for steering? Yikes.
06 June 2010
a close of service musical
I've tried and tried to get the video of this musical uploaded but it's a little too big for blogspot (127 meg) and I can't get a good enough connection to upload to youtube :(
Narrator: In the summer of 2007, Rose Lindgren applied for the Peace Corps. Let’s listen in on her interview, shall we?
Nikhil: I can show you the world
Shining, shimmering, splendid
Tell me truly now when did
You last let your heart decide
I can open your eyes
Take you country by country
It’s the toughest job that you’ll ever love I promise you
A whole new world
Escape from parents, books and jobs
No one to tell you no
Or where to go
Or say you’re only dreaming
Rose: A whole new world
A dazzling place I’ve never known
When I’m a volunteer
It’s crystal clear
That I will save the whole wide world with you
Narrator: Rose received her assignment a mere 12 months later… she was heading for a tiny little country called Togo.
Rose: From the day I arrived in this country
And blinking stepped into the sun
Taylor: There’s more to see than can ever be seen
Heather: More to do than can ever be done
Rose: There’s far too much to take in here
We’re following the yovo, the yovo, the yovo
We’re following the yovo, wherever she may go
Narrator: The first step is stage…
Whitney: Let’s get down to business to defeat poverty
Dig your hands right in there and get dirty
You’re the prissiest bunch I’ve ever seen
Stagaires, I’ll make volunteers out of you
Narrator: Rose was posted in a small village…
Rose: Little town, it’s a Peace Corps village
Every day like the one before
Little town full of Ewe people waking up to say
All: Bonjour, bonsoir, bonjour yovo bonsoir
Good morning yovo
Good morning Madame
Where are you off to?
The market
Don’t forget to bring me some bread!
Look there she goes that girl is so peculiar
I wonder if she’s feeling well (diarrhea?)
With a dreamy far-off look
And her nose stuck in a book (and it’s not the Bible!)
What a puzzle to the rest of us this yovo
There must be more than this villageoise life!
Now it’s no wonder that her name means “whitey”
Her looks have got no parallel
But behind that fair façade
I’m afraid she’s rather odd
Very different from the rest of us this yovo!
Just watch I’m going to make her my wife
Narrator: Daily marriage proposals started to get Rose down, luckily she had some good friends who taught her an important phrase:
Heather: Du courage what a wonderful phrase
Du courage ain’t no passing craze
It means no worries for the rest of your days
It’s our problem-free philosophy – du courage!
Taylor: Here! Have some pate with fish sauce – and drink this, it’ll help with the digestion.
Les poisons, les poisons, hee hee hee ha ha ha
With the coupe-coupe I hack them in two
I pull out what’s inside and I serve it up fried
Jesu, I love little fishies, don’t you!
Narrator: Rose woke up the next morning with a hangover, giardia and covered in heat rash. She started to wish she could go home and have air-conditioning, pizza and cold beer.
Rose: I really miss America
Nikhil: How can you say that? Everything you need it right here!
Rose: Maybe he's right, maybe there is something the matter with me. I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.
I wanna be where the Americans are
I wanna see, wanna see 'em dancing... not like that!
Walking around on those what do you call em? Streets
Riding a bike you don’t get too far
Cars are required for shopping, road trips
Cruising along down a
What’s that word again… street!
Up where they drive
Up where they date
Up where they worry about being late
Wanderin’ free wish I could be
Part of that world
What would I give if I could live out of this mudhut
What would I pay to spend a day down at the mall
Betcha out there they wouldn’t stare
Bet they won’t care that I’m not married
Bright young women
Sick of swimming
In my own sweat
And ready to know what the Internet knows
Google my questions and get some answers
What’s a real job and what will I…
What’s the word?
Earn!
When’s it my turn
Wouldn’t I dare, dare to explore that world over there
Out of Togo
When can I go
Be part of that world
12 May 2010
Close of service
How did it become the 11th so soon? This month and last have been absolutely ridiculous with busyness. I apologize for falling off the internet yet again.
Last week I had my close of service (COS) conference. Basically, all the kids who arrived with me (that are still in country) get together at a super posh hotel and talk about what the heck we’re doing with our lives now that we’re just a few months away from leaving. It’s a fun three days, but also pretty useful. There was a great panel on job possibilities – three former Peace Corps volunteers and one embassy worker with other international experience. It really made me think harder about taking the foreign service exam. And then the presentation on our non-competitive eligibility for federal government jobs made me want to look up federal openings (basically, as returned Peace Corps volunteers we get a year of ‘inside hire’ status where we can be hired for positions before they are opened up to the public).
So where am I going next?
Well, on the first day of the conference I submitted my formal application to be a third year Volunteer Leader. Yup, that means staying in Togo for another year. So all of you who thought about visiting but never got around to it… here’s your chance. I’m signed up to be here until Aug/Sept 2011.
I’m sure you’re all just dying to read my letter of interest for the position, but unfortunately I got kinda long-winded… four pages. Ridonkulous.
So I’ll skip around, here are some excerpts:
“When I grow up, I want to be a Peace Corps volunteer,” declared the girl with bright eyes, “just like Da Adzo Rose.”
“Thank you, Delali.” I replied. I smiled back at her and continued leading an exercise combining English and goal-setting with the class of 3eme students at CEG Kovié. Delali was one of the students with whom I made a special connection. She’d seen and experienced the benefits of working with Peace Corps volunteers; not just myself but also volunteers from all over the country during Camp UNITE 2009. Her admiration and respect for our work gave her the aspiration to become a Peace Corps volunteer. It is these special connections and relationships that I want to help first and second year volunteers to foster; these moments of inspiration and joy that lead me to apply to become a Volunteer Leader.
My Peace Corps Service
My experience in Edinburgh, motivated me during my Peace Corps service to pursue projects, both in my village and nationally, that focused on empowering young people. In Mission Tové worked with both students and apprentices, using lessons from the Life Skills book as well as teaching good business practices. Last November, after over a year working with my group of peer educators, I encouraged them to develop their own plan for celebrating World AIDS day. I facilitated the discussion, using brainstorm charts and priority mapping, but the ideas and the work were all theirs. They decided to plan a big event for all the students in the two villages of Mission Tové and Kovié. Instead of simply planning and presenting their own sensibilisation, the group chose to invite the two other junior high schools to write and perform their own skits, based on the theme “Youth facing up to HIV/AIDS.” The day was a fantastic success, proven to me by the fact that I didn’t do anything more than move chairs and take pictures; the students took care of everything. They’ve already started planning next year’s event.
I came into Togo as an NGO Development volunteer, a subset of the Small Enterprise Development program, but I hadn’t yet found an NGO to work with in my village so I was thrilled to take on a leadership role in two national projects: Camp UNITE and the Karren Waid Scholarship Program. These two projects will be the focus of my community level volunteer assignment. The non-governmental organization PAHCS located in Amlamé manages both projects. PAHCS has been the NGO contact for Karren Waid since its inception. We have now reached a point where volunteers should be assisting the program rather than running it. I intend to implement a capacity-building administrative process, developing a three-year strategic plan for growth and expansion of the scholarship program. This capacity-building will include lessons on how to maintain databases, setting up the physical workspace, developing filing systems, planning and managing a scholar conference, and holding fundraising events. I will also be the point person for the nascent Karren Waid Foundation currently in the first steps of applying for 501c3 status in the United States. I will coordinate with them on good communication of goals and objectives both on the US and Togolese side.
For the Camp UNITE part of my third year, I will focus on assisting CONGECS, the consortium of three Togolese NGOs running camp, to have their collaboration made official. Much of my role will also be developing a consistent reporting on camp. This will include photos, videos, and testimonials during camp that will serve not only for archive, but also for promoting the camp to our funders, especially the Unite Foundation. A major challenge that Camp UNITE has faced is the lack of follow-up on the young people who have been through the week of formation. I will work in tandem with the consortium to develop a reporting system that helps us to not only keep track of camp alums but also support them with resources, whether that means sending them new information or getting them in contact with a local PCV or other camp alums.
Conclusion
I believe that I would be an excellent Volunteer Leader. I have a strong commitment to the goals of Peace Corps. I am a very talented manager and trainer. I am motivated and creative and willing to put in the time and effort necessary to have real achievements in a complicated environment. I realize that if selected as a Volunteer Leader, I will essentially be creating the position and establishing standards that may be in place for years to come. The process will take a significant amount of time and lots of good and honest communication. I anticipate that there may be frustrations, but I look forward to the challenge.
Thank you for considering my application,
Xoxo ;)
You’d totally give me the job; you know it.
I have not yet had my interview, but I feel confident from informal chats with my program director and the Country Director that my application will be accepted. I’m pretty excited. Especially for the chance to move to a new city and do regional site development.
I hope to move to a city in the region of Plateau. It’s a lovely little city and really close to the village where my NGO collaborator is located (within two hours’ biking distance). I will have electricity and hopefully an internet connection… amazing!
I’m sad that I won’t be bringing little Ody along with me to keep me company. It’s heartbreaking to sit in my house and notice all the little evidence of a cat but not have him sitting in my lap purring or knocking things over. I’ve got to think of some appropriate way to mark his grave or something, a little closure. With all the running around, I haven’t taken the time to grieve. My first pet that was really mine
Last week I had my close of service (COS) conference. Basically, all the kids who arrived with me (that are still in country) get together at a super posh hotel and talk about what the heck we’re doing with our lives now that we’re just a few months away from leaving. It’s a fun three days, but also pretty useful. There was a great panel on job possibilities – three former Peace Corps volunteers and one embassy worker with other international experience. It really made me think harder about taking the foreign service exam. And then the presentation on our non-competitive eligibility for federal government jobs made me want to look up federal openings (basically, as returned Peace Corps volunteers we get a year of ‘inside hire’ status where we can be hired for positions before they are opened up to the public).
So where am I going next?
Well, on the first day of the conference I submitted my formal application to be a third year Volunteer Leader. Yup, that means staying in Togo for another year. So all of you who thought about visiting but never got around to it… here’s your chance. I’m signed up to be here until Aug/Sept 2011.
I’m sure you’re all just dying to read my letter of interest for the position, but unfortunately I got kinda long-winded… four pages. Ridonkulous.
So I’ll skip around, here are some excerpts:
“When I grow up, I want to be a Peace Corps volunteer,” declared the girl with bright eyes, “just like Da Adzo Rose.”
“Thank you, Delali.” I replied. I smiled back at her and continued leading an exercise combining English and goal-setting with the class of 3eme students at CEG Kovié. Delali was one of the students with whom I made a special connection. She’d seen and experienced the benefits of working with Peace Corps volunteers; not just myself but also volunteers from all over the country during Camp UNITE 2009. Her admiration and respect for our work gave her the aspiration to become a Peace Corps volunteer. It is these special connections and relationships that I want to help first and second year volunteers to foster; these moments of inspiration and joy that lead me to apply to become a Volunteer Leader.
My Peace Corps Service
My experience in Edinburgh, motivated me during my Peace Corps service to pursue projects, both in my village and nationally, that focused on empowering young people. In Mission Tové worked with both students and apprentices, using lessons from the Life Skills book as well as teaching good business practices. Last November, after over a year working with my group of peer educators, I encouraged them to develop their own plan for celebrating World AIDS day. I facilitated the discussion, using brainstorm charts and priority mapping, but the ideas and the work were all theirs. They decided to plan a big event for all the students in the two villages of Mission Tové and Kovié. Instead of simply planning and presenting their own sensibilisation, the group chose to invite the two other junior high schools to write and perform their own skits, based on the theme “Youth facing up to HIV/AIDS.” The day was a fantastic success, proven to me by the fact that I didn’t do anything more than move chairs and take pictures; the students took care of everything. They’ve already started planning next year’s event.
I came into Togo as an NGO Development volunteer, a subset of the Small Enterprise Development program, but I hadn’t yet found an NGO to work with in my village so I was thrilled to take on a leadership role in two national projects: Camp UNITE and the Karren Waid Scholarship Program. These two projects will be the focus of my community level volunteer assignment. The non-governmental organization PAHCS located in Amlamé manages both projects. PAHCS has been the NGO contact for Karren Waid since its inception. We have now reached a point where volunteers should be assisting the program rather than running it. I intend to implement a capacity-building administrative process, developing a three-year strategic plan for growth and expansion of the scholarship program. This capacity-building will include lessons on how to maintain databases, setting up the physical workspace, developing filing systems, planning and managing a scholar conference, and holding fundraising events. I will also be the point person for the nascent Karren Waid Foundation currently in the first steps of applying for 501c3 status in the United States. I will coordinate with them on good communication of goals and objectives both on the US and Togolese side.
For the Camp UNITE part of my third year, I will focus on assisting CONGECS, the consortium of three Togolese NGOs running camp, to have their collaboration made official. Much of my role will also be developing a consistent reporting on camp. This will include photos, videos, and testimonials during camp that will serve not only for archive, but also for promoting the camp to our funders, especially the Unite Foundation. A major challenge that Camp UNITE has faced is the lack of follow-up on the young people who have been through the week of formation. I will work in tandem with the consortium to develop a reporting system that helps us to not only keep track of camp alums but also support them with resources, whether that means sending them new information or getting them in contact with a local PCV or other camp alums.
Conclusion
I believe that I would be an excellent Volunteer Leader. I have a strong commitment to the goals of Peace Corps. I am a very talented manager and trainer. I am motivated and creative and willing to put in the time and effort necessary to have real achievements in a complicated environment. I realize that if selected as a Volunteer Leader, I will essentially be creating the position and establishing standards that may be in place for years to come. The process will take a significant amount of time and lots of good and honest communication. I anticipate that there may be frustrations, but I look forward to the challenge.
Thank you for considering my application,
Xoxo ;)
You’d totally give me the job; you know it.
I have not yet had my interview, but I feel confident from informal chats with my program director and the Country Director that my application will be accepted. I’m pretty excited. Especially for the chance to move to a new city and do regional site development.
I hope to move to a city in the region of Plateau. It’s a lovely little city and really close to the village where my NGO collaborator is located (within two hours’ biking distance). I will have electricity and hopefully an internet connection… amazing!
I’m sad that I won’t be bringing little Ody along with me to keep me company. It’s heartbreaking to sit in my house and notice all the little evidence of a cat but not have him sitting in my lap purring or knocking things over. I’ve got to think of some appropriate way to mark his grave or something, a little closure. With all the running around, I haven’t taken the time to grieve. My first pet that was really mine
02 May 2010
Short update
I have been astoundingly busy recently and haven't had/taken the time to write up blog entries. I apologize.
The last post I submitted was an article that I wrote for the magazine 'Farm to Market' produced by the business and natural resources programs of Peace Corps volunteers in Togo. It was in French.
I've been writing a lot in French recently. In order to fill out my blog a bit I'm going to post up the three articles on NGO development I recently wrote for the workshop that my friend I and I just held in Tsevie. I hope that these articles might be useful for people working in West Africa with NGOs. Just make sure to credit me and link back to my blog.
In other news, my cat Odysseus died last night. I don't know why. When I arrived home from a day of celebrations for International Worker's Day, I found him curled up in his litter tray, too weak to even stand. I searched him for injuries or wounds and didn't find anything. I held him and made him comfortable, then I called my counterpart and asked her to contact her uncle the veterinarian. About an hour later, Ody stopped breathing and died quietly in my lap.
My counterpart came over with her children, who have been my cat-sitters for the past year and a half. They woke my landlord and the local pastor and together we dug a hole by lantern-light and buried Ody in the field behind the house with the waning moon shining brightly above us. The pastor explained that often animals will take the unhappiness or curse directed at their human/owner and thus sacrifice themselves. He said a prayer that I would accept this sacrifice gratefully and stop crying (Togolese people believe that crying makes a person weak and they are always very worried for me when I cry.)
I'm very sad to have lost Ody, but I am glad that I was there to be with him; it would have been much worse if he had been, for example, stolen and eaten like my chicken was. It's pretty sad putting away all the little food and collars that my mom sent to me, knowing that he won't need them.
The last post I submitted was an article that I wrote for the magazine 'Farm to Market' produced by the business and natural resources programs of Peace Corps volunteers in Togo. It was in French.
I've been writing a lot in French recently. In order to fill out my blog a bit I'm going to post up the three articles on NGO development I recently wrote for the workshop that my friend I and I just held in Tsevie. I hope that these articles might be useful for people working in West Africa with NGOs. Just make sure to credit me and link back to my blog.
In other news, my cat Odysseus died last night. I don't know why. When I arrived home from a day of celebrations for International Worker's Day, I found him curled up in his litter tray, too weak to even stand. I searched him for injuries or wounds and didn't find anything. I held him and made him comfortable, then I called my counterpart and asked her to contact her uncle the veterinarian. About an hour later, Ody stopped breathing and died quietly in my lap.
My counterpart came over with her children, who have been my cat-sitters for the past year and a half. They woke my landlord and the local pastor and together we dug a hole by lantern-light and buried Ody in the field behind the house with the waning moon shining brightly above us. The pastor explained that often animals will take the unhappiness or curse directed at their human/owner and thus sacrifice themselves. He said a prayer that I would accept this sacrifice gratefully and stop crying (Togolese people believe that crying makes a person weak and they are always very worried for me when I cry.)
I'm very sad to have lost Ody, but I am glad that I was there to be with him; it would have been much worse if he had been, for example, stolen and eaten like my chicken was. It's pretty sad putting away all the little food and collars that my mom sent to me, knowing that he won't need them.
26 April 2010
La fete des apprentis
La grande foule de filles et garçons vêtu du même pagne dansent et chantent avec une joie de vie qui attirent tout le monde. On voit une longue ligne de filles dansant dans un cercle; on dirait que chaque complet est plus beau que l’un qui l'avançait. C’ est la saison correcte, mais ce n’est pas une funéraille. C’est la fête des apprentis de couture. Une journée de danse, chanson, nourriture, et boisson. Les apprentis se prêtent depuis des mois pour cette grande fête : ils cherchent le modèle le plus joli, le plus unique, et passent beaucoup de temps à faire leur habit spécial. Dans ce grand nombre de gens, on ne peut pas trouver un modèle jumelé. Chacun et une s’habille complètement différemment, mais dans le même pagne. Cette créativité et joie dans leur métier indique une félicité unique aux apprentis.
La fête des apprentis de couture se fait le 10 février de chaque année. Les syndicats de couture se réunissent pour fêter la fin de la saison de fête. Décembre et janvier sont des mois si plein d’occasion que les couturiers et tailleurs n’arrivent pas à fêter eux-mêmes. Mais tout le monde a besoin de s'étendre un peu, boire un peu, et danser avec ses amis. Alors, ils ont prit le 10 février comme un jour ferié spécial à eux.
Cette année, le Syncoutat, un des plusieurs syndicats des couturiers et tailleurs, avait leur congrès national. Trouvant que le congrès et les élection des representants a crée un peu de mal-aise chez les membres, le Syncoutat a décidé de faire une très grande fête avec les bureaux des plusieurs préfectures.
Centaines des apprentis se sont réunis pour célébrer ensemble. Ce partage de joie et expérience est une des raisons pour commencer un bureau de syndicat chez vous. Les syndicats sont une ressource très intéressants aux artisans.
Attirer un bureau de syndicat chez vous ce n’est pas un grand travail, mais il faut de la persistance. En 2006, Da Essi AWUITOR, maitresse couturière s’est décidé qu’elle voulait que ces apprenties passent un examen pour la fin de l’apprentissage pour avoir des certificats. Mais il n’y avait pas de bureau de syndicat chez elle, à Mission Tové. Alors, elle est allée à Tsévié au niveau préfectorale pour parler avec le directeur des affaires sociales. Elle a trouvé que c’était un peu difficile d’attirer un grand syndicat à un petit village. Le Syntacto a donné deux choix à AWUITOR : soit elle amènerait les filles avec leur machines à coudre à Tsévié où un patron local les présenterait à l’examen (la signature de ce patron local figurerait sur les certificats, au lieu de la signature d’AWUITOR), soit elle pourrait faire amener les surveillants à Mission Tové, les loger, les donner à manger, et les payer 5000 chacun par jour pour trois jours.
AWUITOR ne pouvait pas accepter ni l’un ni l’autre de ces deux choix. Elle est allée encore voir le directeur des affaires sociales pour savoir comment elle peut faire. Il y avait un deuxième syndicat des tailleurs à Tsévié : le Syncoutat. Le Président du Syncoutat écoutait le problème d’ AWUITOR et s’est décidé de l’aider. Il viendrait lui-même surveiller l’examen à Mission Tové, s’il pouvait être logé; avec une condition: après l’examen soit AWUITOR doit se joindre au Syncoutat à Tsévié, soit elle doit créer un bureau du Syncoutat local. Notant les frais de déplacement, AWUITOR a choisi d’installer un bureau local. Elle se promenait un peu partout dans le village pour parler avec les autres couturières et tailleurs qui s’intéressaient un peu à ce qu’elle disait, mais ne voulait pas mettre aucun force derrière leurs intérêts.
Pour l’examen pour le certificat, un apprenti passe une journée en faisant un complet d’une modèle indiquée par les surveillants. Sa facon de travailler est observé pendant la journée et à la fin, le surveillant fait la correction du complet pour assurer la qualité du travail. Arrivé le jour de l’examen à Mission Tove seulement un tailleur était venu pour regarder ce qui se passait. Mais le Président du Syncoutat de Tsévié, étant très intelligent, a fait entré trois patrons pour lui aider à faire la correction des travaux que les apprentis ont fait. Il a dit qu’il ne pouvait pas amener les habits jusqu'à Tsévié pour la correction, il devait le faire le meme jour. Mais il ne ferait pas la correction seul parce qu’il ne voulait pas que les autres patrons croient qu’il a fait préférence pour AWUITOR. Les trois patrons les plus connus et respectés étaient appelés pour l’aider. Le fait de voir et participer dans le procesus de l’examen a encouragé beaucoup l’intéret des patrons envers l’installation d’un bureau chez eux. C'etait un succès des deux cotés.
Le jour de la fête de la libération de ses trois apprenties était le même jour de l’installation du bureau.
Les patrons ont constaté plusieurs bénéfices d'être membre d’un syndicat. D’abord il y a la fraternité; ils sont ensembles pour se soutenir et pour s'aider avec les problèmes communs. Deuxième il y a un système de discipline et d’inscription pour les apprentis. Avec les contrats signés, les patrons ont plus de puissance légale sur les apprentis qui volent ou qui veulent échapper de leurs obligations. Troisième, les apprentis gagnent un certificat connu partout au Togo pour bien montrer qu’ils ont fait la formation en couture et qu’ils ont réussi. La possibilité de ce certificat attire beaucoup d'apprentis vers un maitre qui fait parti d'un syndicat.
Si vous voulez installer un bureau du syndicat chez vous, allez aux affaires socials et les demander une liste des syndicats dans votre métier qui sont installé dans la préfecture. Meme si vous n’avez pas de certificat vous-meme, vous pouvez vous joindre à un syndicat pour le bénéfice de vos apprentis.
23 March 2010
I'm famous
I've recently started up a correspondence with one of my favorite professors from Notre Dame again. She was interested in my adventures and asked me to write up a little summary.
Check it out
Check it out
Correspondence Match March 2010
Sorry that I've been quiet for so long! I've been both travelling and staying in village - both things keep me far from internet and communication with you. My best friend J came to visit me for three weeks so we went exploring. J spent some time as a child living in Ghana, so the trip here wasn't too shocking for him although it's been many years since he was in West Africa. Unfortunately his trip coincided with the hottest part of the year - it cooled off to 90 degrees at night and soared to unknown heights during the day. We found a fantastic refuge from the sun one day as we were travelling. We met up with my friend R in a city called Kpalimé - cute little
city that's well-known for its attraction to tourists and foreign volunteers because it's in a beautifully lush area full of fruits and vegetables and ... waterfalls!
We took motos half an hour outside of Kpalimé to a tiny village called Wa Me, then hiked up a long barren hillside for 3.5km before arriving at a sweet picnic area and a steep downward climb. At some point someone put in rock steps into the hillside, which helped the descent, but were also rather slippery because of the rain the night before. As we descended, the shade gathered around us, huge palm leaves
diffusing the sun's midday rays. We arrived at the bottom of the canyon and picked out way over and around trees and huge red ants to discover a lovely little waterfall that tumbled gently into a wide pool, sheltered in a cavern-like enclosure. It was a perfect little haven and the water was so cool I got goosebumps! I don't think I've ever had goosebumps in Togo outside of air-conditioned buildings.
Of course, by the time we made the steep climb back out we were hot and sweaty again, but that hour was magnificent.
The Presidential election was on March 4th and the incumbent President, Faure Gnassingbe was re-elected for a second five-year term. There were some security worries but so far nothing more dangerous than tear gas to disperse crowds. I've been completely safe and in fact spent the day of the election having two amazingly
scrumptious meals with local families wishing to show their welcome for my guest, J.
While J was here, I received a package from an International Art Exchange that I'd enrolled my students in. They created art in class - I sent off the 25 'best' (see: most representative and interesting) pieces to an NGO in the United States. We received back 25 pieces from all over the world - China, eastern europe, the caribbean, Montana.
The kids have been so excited to see all the different art- but even more interested to see all the photos of their peer artists from around the world. I'm mentioning it because I think it would be really cool if your school joined in as well. They have two rounds of exchange - one in January and one in May. I'll be entering the May one as well because half of the students I work with didn't get to participate last time, so they wanted a chance. I would highly recommend looking it up!
I hope you all are well. Looking forward to spring break? I have lots of plans, but they mostly involve working - I have to take advantage of school being out to do my non-school meetings.
16 March 2010
Made it through February
14 March 2010
It’s been ages since I posted a blog. Several events came together to inspire this profound silence. First, I had a visitor from Scotland! As you may remember from this time last year when I was hosting the lovely MagentaWings, I also dropped off the face of the internet. So it’s not out of character that TimeforTea’s presence caused a distinct lack of writing as I was able to talk his ear of as a release. He’s very worried about my blood pressure. I assured him that he heard all my vehement complaints only because I’m so used to talking to myself now that I no longer have a filter when talking to other English speakers.
TimeforTea, as is his wont, chose an absolutely ridiculous time to visit. Not only were we in the middle of hot season when there is no water, fruit or vegetables and we sweat through 90 degree (F) nights. But also – he came just in time for the Presidential elections.
I’ve been listening to BBC radio since TimeforTea’s departure; they are currently doing a series of programs about the power of the internet, includihng several profiles of interesting bloggers. It’s been a tough thing to listen to because I feel I could be a very interesting blogger, but my blog is so highly self-censored as to render it about as interesting as warm milk – a nice treat to relax with when one’s brain is tired, but certainly not inspiring and definitely won’t keep one up at night with thought-provoking dreams.
I diverted onto this train of thought as a mild explanation for why I have not and will not say much about the Togolese Presidential election on my blog. As a Peace Corps volunteer there are certain things in which I am specifically forbidden to get involved – politics is the most obvious one, closely followed by mob activity (generally more relevant in eastern European countries).
So in a warm milk type of summary that deals only with my personal perspective: in order to keep a good handle on the safety and security situation, all PCVs in Togo were told to stay in their village for the week prior to and the week following the election, this is called “Standfast”. Originally the election was scheduled for the 28th but it was moved to the 4th. Various rumors of bribery, blatant defacement of opposition party posters, and use of security services and civil servants to campaign call for some inquiry into the validity of the voting process in some peoples’ minds.
Personally, being a good a-political volunteer I was mostly worried about TimeforTea’s safety. The Friday before we went on Standfast TimeforTea and I went ot visit my friends in the nearby city. We got a late start because I had a meeting and TimeforTea had a “case of the Togos” (tummy trouble, headache, etc.) So by the time we got on the road on two motos fort he 30 minute voyage, it was already getting dark. The dirt road is so dusty that my driver was still wearing sunglasses even though the sun had already set. Worse, TimeforTea’s driver seemed to want to race the sun to our destination.
Maybe he was scared of the dark? In any case, he certainly scared me! TimeforTea knows very little French and his driver knew even less. I tried desperately to get my driver to signal the other one to slow the f__ down! As we flew over rock sand hidden gullies, around puddles and fallen branches. I was angry and ready to chew out both drivers as soon as we stopped.
Then we did. Stop, I mean, but not at our destination. We ground to a shuddering halt faced with a huge crowd of people chanting political statements and wearing identical t-shirts. Cars sporting political posters filled the dirt road so we couldn’t get past them. We turned around and took an alternative access to the paved road that we needed to reach to get to the city. We successfully got on to the road but had to ride along the edge, narrowly avoiding side mirrors and opening car doors until, once again, we were stopped. What is this? I looked up and saw a huge truck full of soldiers. No – not just soldiers – some of the biggest guns I’ve ever seen, even in movies, huge round of ammunition, and an air of foreboding.
The road was blockaded, we had to go on to a dirt path again, taking a right off the road and continuing north on what in the states we’d call a “frontage road”. In Togo’s it’s more like a bike path through the fields. TimeforTea’s moto turned and started going. The gun truck followed them, cutting off my moto. Then a second smaller all-terrain vehicle followed the truck, a soldier standing up in the back seat manning a machine gun. We followed the jeep and I briefly caught the eye of a soldier directing the trucks. His expression and double take upon seeing me, a white woman, making my way through the fracas sent a wave of bile rising into my throat. Why does he look so worried at seeing me? Where are these trucks going? Where the hell are TimeforTea and his driver?
It was an agonizing ride through underbrush, tyring to get around the trucks, ahead of them to find TimeforTea, my breath shallow and my heart beating like a birds’. We had to turn around twice after taking paths that led to someone’s house rather than a way through. The absolute darkness outside of the thin, faint stream of light from the moto’s beam filled, in my mind, with more soldiers and innocent bystanders. Visions of massacres in Rwanda and Nigeria flashed through my adrenaline-jumped brain.
Finally – we saw a moto ahead, waiting on the edge of the path. But no passenger! I swallowed my heart as I spotted yet another moto 100m further. Thank goodness. We found TimeforTea and continued on, avoiding the road and arriving safely in front of my friends’ house where I paid the drivers, sent them away and promptly burst into tears and had to be revived with a glass of Grand Marnier and a cigarette.
All of my fears and visions were thankfully unfounded. It was the most scared I have ever felt in Togo, I am glad it was all in my head. Roadblocks were up along a small stretch of the road because the President’s appearance at a political rally. The weapons we saw were not used and everything went off quite peacefully in the lead-up to the election.
It’s been ages since I posted a blog. Several events came together to inspire this profound silence. First, I had a visitor from Scotland! As you may remember from this time last year when I was hosting the lovely MagentaWings, I also dropped off the face of the internet. So it’s not out of character that TimeforTea’s presence caused a distinct lack of writing as I was able to talk his ear of as a release. He’s very worried about my blood pressure. I assured him that he heard all my vehement complaints only because I’m so used to talking to myself now that I no longer have a filter when talking to other English speakers.
TimeforTea, as is his wont, chose an absolutely ridiculous time to visit. Not only were we in the middle of hot season when there is no water, fruit or vegetables and we sweat through 90 degree (F) nights. But also – he came just in time for the Presidential elections.
I’ve been listening to BBC radio since TimeforTea’s departure; they are currently doing a series of programs about the power of the internet, includihng several profiles of interesting bloggers. It’s been a tough thing to listen to because I feel I could be a very interesting blogger, but my blog is so highly self-censored as to render it about as interesting as warm milk – a nice treat to relax with when one’s brain is tired, but certainly not inspiring and definitely won’t keep one up at night with thought-provoking dreams.
I diverted onto this train of thought as a mild explanation for why I have not and will not say much about the Togolese Presidential election on my blog. As a Peace Corps volunteer there are certain things in which I am specifically forbidden to get involved – politics is the most obvious one, closely followed by mob activity (generally more relevant in eastern European countries).
So in a warm milk type of summary that deals only with my personal perspective: in order to keep a good handle on the safety and security situation, all PCVs in Togo were told to stay in their village for the week prior to and the week following the election, this is called “Standfast”. Originally the election was scheduled for the 28th but it was moved to the 4th. Various rumors of bribery, blatant defacement of opposition party posters, and use of security services and civil servants to campaign call for some inquiry into the validity of the voting process in some peoples’ minds.
Personally, being a good a-political volunteer I was mostly worried about TimeforTea’s safety. The Friday before we went on Standfast TimeforTea and I went ot visit my friends in the nearby city. We got a late start because I had a meeting and TimeforTea had a “case of the Togos” (tummy trouble, headache, etc.) So by the time we got on the road on two motos fort he 30 minute voyage, it was already getting dark. The dirt road is so dusty that my driver was still wearing sunglasses even though the sun had already set. Worse, TimeforTea’s driver seemed to want to race the sun to our destination.
Maybe he was scared of the dark? In any case, he certainly scared me! TimeforTea knows very little French and his driver knew even less. I tried desperately to get my driver to signal the other one to slow the f__ down! As we flew over rock sand hidden gullies, around puddles and fallen branches. I was angry and ready to chew out both drivers as soon as we stopped.
Then we did. Stop, I mean, but not at our destination. We ground to a shuddering halt faced with a huge crowd of people chanting political statements and wearing identical t-shirts. Cars sporting political posters filled the dirt road so we couldn’t get past them. We turned around and took an alternative access to the paved road that we needed to reach to get to the city. We successfully got on to the road but had to ride along the edge, narrowly avoiding side mirrors and opening car doors until, once again, we were stopped. What is this? I looked up and saw a huge truck full of soldiers. No – not just soldiers – some of the biggest guns I’ve ever seen, even in movies, huge round of ammunition, and an air of foreboding.
The road was blockaded, we had to go on to a dirt path again, taking a right off the road and continuing north on what in the states we’d call a “frontage road”. In Togo’s it’s more like a bike path through the fields. TimeforTea’s moto turned and started going. The gun truck followed them, cutting off my moto. Then a second smaller all-terrain vehicle followed the truck, a soldier standing up in the back seat manning a machine gun. We followed the jeep and I briefly caught the eye of a soldier directing the trucks. His expression and double take upon seeing me, a white woman, making my way through the fracas sent a wave of bile rising into my throat. Why does he look so worried at seeing me? Where are these trucks going? Where the hell are TimeforTea and his driver?
It was an agonizing ride through underbrush, tyring to get around the trucks, ahead of them to find TimeforTea, my breath shallow and my heart beating like a birds’. We had to turn around twice after taking paths that led to someone’s house rather than a way through. The absolute darkness outside of the thin, faint stream of light from the moto’s beam filled, in my mind, with more soldiers and innocent bystanders. Visions of massacres in Rwanda and Nigeria flashed through my adrenaline-jumped brain.
Finally – we saw a moto ahead, waiting on the edge of the path. But no passenger! I swallowed my heart as I spotted yet another moto 100m further. Thank goodness. We found TimeforTea and continued on, avoiding the road and arriving safely in front of my friends’ house where I paid the drivers, sent them away and promptly burst into tears and had to be revived with a glass of Grand Marnier and a cigarette.
All of my fears and visions were thankfully unfounded. It was the most scared I have ever felt in Togo, I am glad it was all in my head. Roadblocks were up along a small stretch of the road because the President’s appearance at a political rally. The weapons we saw were not used and everything went off quite peacefully in the lead-up to the election.
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