More photos, motos, goat-o's, and unidentified flying/crawling objects

Date: Tuesday, 4 Dec 2007

Ok, so I admit I've been slightly lagging behind with the regular posts (I mean really it's just a week so I'm already doing a lot better than I expected.)

What a week - a lot has happened, lots of ups and downs, new challenges every day but at the same time new things that I'm grateful to experience and learn from, and of course there's just plain old fun.

I also realised that some people who might be reading this have no clue what I'm doing in Togo, so a quick update - I'm here on an internship until mid-January, just before I start my 4th year at uni in Feb. I'm working with an NGO called Carrefour Tiers Monde, who do a number of socio-economic development projects in Lomé (the capital) and surrounding villages. Over the past 5 years, they've started focusing on the rights of children, and in raising awareness and sensitising the population about things like child trafficking, child abuse, rights to education, health, and so on. They've got several songs in both French and Ewe (the local dialect) about these issues, which they've recorded and are in the course of recording in a studio, and they have concerts and performances around the country. They also do drama and skits as a way of conveying their messages. The kids range from the ages of 3 to the older youth that are involved, some of them in their mid-20s. So I'm doing a number of things - a bunch of translation work (we're thinking of expanding their song repertoire and having English versions of some of them), working with them during their rehearsals, on their performances, etc, teaching a bit of English, and travelling out to the villages as part of their activities to raise awareness in the villages. I'm also getting stuck into some of the statutes they have regarding child trafficking, AIDS prevention, child abuse, etc which are in French and doing some translation for that as well. I'm staying with a Togolese host family who are unbelievably hospitable and welcoming, and have been here since the 22nd of November. It's getting better every day.

Here are some pics with my host family and general everyday-ness:

Me and Patience (I seriously wouldn't survive without her - an incredibly sweet human being)


Yaoh - a cousin - who laughs everytime I speak French, but not in a mean way. He's awesome.

Me and Elom


Me engaging in the stuffing of the face - eating on the veranda with everyone is very fun:



Okay it probably would've been extremely entertaining watching me eat this, since it was deceivingly mild-looking. Rice and chicken wings, yes? No. Not yes. In fact it was spicy as heck and I nearly choked to death. I can't bring myself to complain either, because I'm ashamed of my weakness and don't want to be a high maintenance eater. I was with some others having lunch the other day and one of the girls, aged 10 returned her plate because there wasn't enough "pepe" (hot peppers). A 10 year old. I'm very ashamed of myself. Pretty sure the spiciness tolerance has skyrocketed though.

I'm not really sure where I'm going with this post - having been here for almost 2 weeks now, I'm starting to settle in. Things that I found difficult or had to adapt to are getting more natural and routine, and it's a very relieving feeling. One big thing that happens without fail whenever I'm in a new country/city is that I feel trapped unless I know how to get around to essential places. I can't stand being dependent on someone else to show me how to go somewhere, or how to do something - I'd rather them show me once and then take it from there. So I know a few places and am now a pro, I repeat, A PRO, at moto-ing it. I seriously have become obsessed. They're a little more expensive than regular taxis, but I'm very willing to pay a little more for the thrill and the feeling of the fresh air around me. It's a way better view too. You get to look all around you, and go through the narrow alleys and village roads that are inaccessible by car. I've tried multiple times to get a decent pic of me on a moto, but have failed miserably since I can't stretch my arm that far - also slightly concerned that if I stretched too far I'd end up as roadkill, so this is the best I could do (note how I'm trying to look natural but am clearly smirking).

And this is one of the many views of the front

Wow. Motos. They're fantastic. Okay, so you see, I usually walk down to the internet cafe near my house, which is about 10 mins away, and when I do so, I pass by a whole bunch of men on their motos asking if I need to go somewhere - "Mademoiselle, mademoiselle, allez allez?" (allez = go). On a number of occasions, I've stopped and had a quick chat with them, obviously impressing all with my "Pardon, je ne parle francais" (Sorry I don't speak French - and no, they're not impressed, they just laugh and then talk slower as if I'm just retarded as opposed to just incapable of speaking/understanding French). One man in particular, who goes by the name of "Big Man" (this is what he told me to call him) has forged an alliance with me, and I think we've established that he's now my personal moto driver. Which is actually pretty good, since he drives pretty safely, doesn't overcharge me, and a bonus is that he speaks English so I'm not just stuttering and flailing my arms like a fool trying to explain where I want to go. He's enormous though. Like, calling him "Big Man" is very appropriate, if not inadequate. He's a cross between Seal and the guy from the Matrix. Yes.

I took this picture the other day whilst on the moto, wanting to show the waste disposal system around here - the old 'collect and dump in the middle of the locality then burn' - imagine my delight when I found a little bonus (i.e. spot the animal rhyming with boat). Seriously they're everywhere. They're alarmingly thin too. Also quite mangy. Oh relax, we all know I'm not the biggest animal lover. Mangy thin goats - nothing cute about it, admit it.

OKAY - so I was intrigued by the following from my first day here - drinking water in sachets. Check it out:

What you do its, you bite a tiny hole out of a corner and then drink. It costs 25 Francs, which is about $0.08 NZD. The first time I was offered one, someone suggested that I don't drink it and get a European brand instead otherwise I'd have 'stomach problems'. I wondered why. But I was too thirsty to be fussy, and had no problems. Yeah so sachets. Weird little sachets. What I also found surprising is that once you finish it, you just throw it on the ground. So wherever you walk, you'll find these little empty plastic sachets strewn across the ground. I still haven't brought myself to do it - I'm sure it would be very liberating but my conscience would eat away at me, so I just put the used sachet in my bag........ so that I can put it with all my other trash which gets burnt every few days. Sort of defeats the purpose of keeping the sachet in the first place I suppose.

Yes well I'm getting used to the heat - apparently so is my skin. I've had many people tell me that I'm reconnecting to my African origins and am getting darker by the day. It's funny, the other night I noticed Patience looking at my arm and then she said something in Ewe to Elom, who agreed, so I asked what they were talking about and they both hesitated to reply, as if it was something they'd rather I not know about. So I continued to stare at them kind of eagerly, and then she said "you are getting darker!" as if it was something that I'd be sad to hear. It's interesting - when I first got here I was treated like a regular 'Yovo', no questions asked, but during the past few days I've had many people ask me if I'm half-cast. My host family's stopped urging me to get out of the sun now that they realise I'm not going to go bright pink. They always stop themselves and say "ohhh of course, you are African!"

It's unbelievably hot though. If you're indoors especially, without a fan - i.e. in my office, you feel like your clothes have actually welded themselves into your skin. Slightly disgusting description, but it's actually what it feels like. And you don't want to do anything or talk to anyone, you don't want to sit, you don't want to stand. It's probably just me, actually.

WOW OKAY so this is completely irrelevant but I have to write about my taxi ride on Saturday. Okay, okay, so Sam, one of the guys at the University of Lomé took me out on Saturday morning to go check out the local museum and pass quickly through the Parliament buildings, etc. So we're sitting in the taxi, I'm squished between him and another guy on my left. So far so good, I'm used to the lack of personal space by now. Okay so then, suddenly I was sure that I felt something crawling on the back of my neck. I ignored it, not wanting to blow anything out of proportion, thinking, it's probably just my hair blowing in the wind, tickling my skin or something. But then I felt it again, and it was a definite, solid thing travelling across the nape of my neck. I started getting restless, because I thought, okay I'll just slap the back of my neck and it'll leave me alone, so I casually brushed the back of my neck, AND THEN - I feel it crawl UP, and hey, wow, cool, it's IN MY HAIR. IN MY HAIR. IN IT.
"Um, uh.. I think there's a bug in my hair"
"What? Are you sure?"
"Yes, yes, there's definitely something happening in there"
At which point I ripped my hairtie out and shook my head frantically, shaking my hair out as much as possible with my fingers, all the while, squished amongst people so I couldn't completely have a panic attack. IT WAS HORRIBLE. Then everytime I'd pause to see if I felt anything crawling... there'd be an eerie nothingness, then SUDDENLY I feel movement, repeat the freak-out cycle until I didn't feel anything. Tied the hair back up again, resumed breathing, then I feel something on the back of my left shoulder, I look, and I find this ENORMOUS, ENORMOUS weird green beetle-looking insect. IT WAS ENORMOUS.
"THERE IT IS, THAT'S IT!" Rasha starts to go mildly insane and makes strange noises.
Sam and strange man on left simultaneously start smacking Rasha's shoulder frantically. Bug is demolished.
Awful. For the rest of the day I kept replaying it, and kept feeling like things were crawling on me, absolutely paranoid. Not a fun experience.

The rest of the day was cool - the museum was very basic, but I got a short briefing about the history of Togo under German, British, and French control. It used to be bigger, but then a big chunk of it was given to the British (now part of Ghana) and the rest was under the French. Togo gained independence in 1960, and this is a monument that was built in honour of it - I really liked it. Sam explained that the woman symbolised Togo - possessing qualities of beauty, serenity, and calmness.


And this is me with Sam in front of the monument (I also go by the name of Captain Obvious):


Sam is awesome - he's been asking me to teach him some words in Arabic so now I've got him and all the other guys at the university calling each other "Habibi" and telling each other to "Yalla!" Hah.

That night, I went with the Director of CTM and some of the kids to a festival in a village called Kpalimé. Started off awesome - I loved walking through the market, talking to the sellers and their kids - most of the kids would sing at me, "Yovo, yovo, bonsoir yovo" over and over. It's very cute. I felt a little intrusive taking pictures, but these kids in particular begged me to, and every time the flash went off they'd scream in delight, it was hilarious.

A scene from the village:


(Yes, I know, the picture is awful and blurry, but I was being very surreptitious about my photo-taking so as not to irritate anyone)

Sunday was a nice chill-out day - I went with the uni folk to a huge Trade Fair just outside the city - people came from Benin, Burkina Faso, Cote d'Ivoire, Ghana, all over the place, to participate - very enjoyable.

So... me and the folk
So yes, that was the weekend. I'm starting to feel like I have things to do, places to go - even though it's been less than 2 weeks, I feel like my eyes have been opened to a completely different world. Many things are hitting home for me, and it's sometimes very difficult to deal with, even just coming to terms with it within myself. Like.. you hear about all the problems in Africa: the political instability, poverty, famine, disease, underdeveloped infrastructure, everything, but today I had an experience that made me see it in a completely different light.



I met this little girl today, her name is Ava Shalom, she's a 2 year old AIDS sufferer, and also lost her mother to AIDS. I'm going to be honest, I hesitated about whether I should write about this publicly, or even put this photo up. I'm not sure why - I didn't know if it was something I should just keep to myself and reflect on. But I've decided that I do want to share this, because it impacted me really strongly and got me thinking. So like I said, you hear about all the problems in developing countries and I think a lot of what I've been exposed to in relation to that has been purely academic - reports, statistics, UN resolutions, governments as well as NGOs and charities that work to analyse or eradicate these problems. Meeting Ava suddenly pushed all those things I've learned out of my head, and all I saw in front of me was a little girl, who had already lived her 2 years on this earth in pain, suffering and difficulty, and it was unlikely to end anytime soon. It really got to me.

She was a little shy at first, came over to me apprehensively and looked at me with a curious expression on her face. I smiled at her and held my hands out to see if she'd come closer, she took a few more steps towards me and then let me pick her up and put her on my lap. As I held her there, staring at her, I was overcome with a heaviness in my heart. Here was this child, born into circumstances completely beyond her control, and her future was already set. Who knows how long her life will be or what turns it will take. To be honest, I felt really angry. It really affected me. Someone so innocent and pure was faced with such an enormous test, and then on the other hand, it's so easy for me to live my life and just read about all these cases from a distance. These cases aren't just cases. They are real people, real lives, real destitution, hardship and tragedy. It's everywhere too. I mean it's one thing reading a heartbreaking story, but having someone (especially a toddler) who is experiencing such a thing in such close personal contact, it made me realise that this is much closer to home than I've ever thought. Instead of generalised accounts of suffering across the continent, here I had a human being, who feels joy, sorrow, pain - who smiles, who cries, and whose eyes I can look into and feel serenity and sense her child-like spirit. What she's lived through is all she knows, but at the same time she doesn't know that this is part of an enormous worldwide problem. All she knows is what she experiences, and she will come to know more pain, more loss, and more difficulty. I hated the fact that I couldn't do anything. I couldn't stop looking at her while she was on my lap, thinking about what kind of a person she was going to become, how her life would have turned out otherwise, and what she was going to see, feel, think about it all.

I look around me, and see people living lives of struggle. Nothing is easy. But, having said that, life is simple. You just live, and you're grateful for everything you do have, as opposed to focusing on what's lacking. That's definitely one of the biggest lessons I've learned. I mean it's one of those things you're subconsciously aware of, but sometimes it takes a shock to the system to make you remember this. No matter what it is that you don't have, you still have something. Whatever that something is, even if it's miniscule, be grateful that you have it.

And then, looking at my own situation, I actually feel ashamed. Yes, I often have moments where I really just want the things I'm used to. I miss my house, my towels, my bathrobe, my bed, my washing machine, my car, mochaccinos, chocolate, air conditioning, fresh tap water (or running water in general), clean toilets & showers, pizza, movie theatres, accessible phone and internet, constant electricity supply, and trust me, many other things. But then I think to myself - okay, so in 5 weeks, I'll have all those things. I'll probably eventually forget that I missed them. But then most, if not all, the people I've met are still getting on with life, and they're happy, and they have faith, and again, are in a constant state of gratitude and appreciate the simple things in life. I ask myself how I dare to even come close to complaining, even if it's only in my head.

We don't realise how easy we have it. (I'm sorry I don't mean to preach, just thinking out loud because it's been a big knot in my head that's been dying to be untangled - I'm really just referring to myself). I know that everyone has their own tests and hardships, and that it's all relative, but I compare my situation with those who I live around, and wonder why they have it so hard. Hey, that's probably relative too - I mean to them, it's just life, and like I said, they seem content most of the time. I think it's going to be very strange going back home, or to my parents in Bahrain - I'll probably have that feeling where I'm wondering if Togo even happened. Still, every now and then, I'll be walking somewhere and suddenly feel disconnected from myself, like I'm watching myself from above, and I wonder - is that actually me? Am I awake? Is this seriously happening?

I can't believe it's been almost 2 weeks already. That's insane. I bet you by the time it hits home that I'm actually here it'll be time to leave.