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February 10^th

Today, after 6 months of working in village at my dispensaire, I saw my first HIV positive test.

Every Monday, women come in groups of about 20 to the dispensaire for CPN (Consultation Prenatale). It is recommend that each woman attend at least 4 during their pregnancy. Here, they receive regular check ups on their pregnancy and receive free medication to prevent the transmission of malaria from the mother to the fetus. Also, during their first visit, they are given an HIV test.

Today a woman came in a brought her partner with her. He’s only the second man I’ve ever seen come in to have an HIV test. When I typed up the end of the year reports for 2013, I recorded that less than 

1% of male partners come to the dispensaire to be tested for HIV.

I was beaming with pride for this happy couple. Honestly, I was fighting the urge to tell him how great it was that he came in with her. Usually during these routine visits, I take a back seat and let my accoucheuse and matrone do the work. I help where I can, and correct them if I feel it’s needed, but this is their job and their community. I am at the dispensaire for assistance and learning until my time is absorbed into other things.

The woman there for CPN went through the normal examination, and he had his test done while he waited. I glanced over at their tests and noticed one had two lines, instead of the usually one. I looked over to my accoucheuse and asked if it was positive. Her and the matrone exchanged glances and she told me that yes, the woman was positive.

It was then, that I realized I had secretly wished it was the man. Not because I have anything against Togolese men, or men in general (I like you guys a lot). It’s because now this woman doesn’t only have to feel responsible for her own life, but also her child’s. HIV now affects both of their futures. And that of any other future children she wishes to have. I’ve seen families with over 10 children here. Will this woman have to worry about this 10 times?

When she sat down after her exam, they explained to her that she had HIV, but her white blood cell count wasn’t at a dangerous level yet. They told her about the options for preventing it’s transmission to the baby and a lot of other things in Kabiye I couldn’t put together.

As the situation plays about before my eyes, I expect to see a reaction of devastation or concern or shame. And there’s nothing. I was searching for some kind of hint about what she felt or what she understood. I wanted to ask if she was scared. And explain that you can live a long life with HIV as long as you take care of yourself.  And that if handled correctly, her baby won’t get it.

But she just remained calm and took in everything the accoucheuse was saying to her. It’s like this news came as no surprise.

It was the same with her partner. When he walked in and discussed the steps she would have to take, also nothing. I wanted to tell him she was still the woman he loved and that they could continue enjoying each other with safe methods. And that their baby could be healthy.

At the end of the talks, the couple left just as quietly as they had come. I spent the rest of the time during CPN running through scenarios in my mind of how this plays out. If they stay together. If the baby is positive or negative. If she does everything right and lives a long life. If she has more babies.

I don’t know if it was the positive mark that affected me so much, or the concern that maybe they didn’t understand the gravity of what this positive mark meant.

The reality is. I have no idea. I have no clue whatsoever about the personal workings of that family and how this will affect them. And I would say it’s really none of my business…

But it is.

It’s a huge part of why I’m here. To understand what people know about HIV. How to prevent getting it. How to prevent giving it. What it means to be positive and how that affects your future.

All day, my mind has kept going back to that woman. I try to think of reasons why she had no reaction. Whether it’s lack of understanding. Or if it’s being faced with a disease like that here comes as no surprise. Or if there’s worse things she’s been through. Or whether she actually understood everything completely and just has a serene disposition.

I don’t want to make any assumptions while I’m here. But I do want to learn.

I really want to make the effort to take on others perspectives here. Especially in these situations. Where doing so may give me some kind of insight into just how I can try to help.

Wishing for mind reading powers,

Kumealo

HI-HO HI-HO

February 6^th

It’s off to the garden I go.

Sun hat on head. Watering cans in hand.

Whistling like I’m the eighth dwarf – Hippy.

I’ve been asking my homologue since October if he’d walk around village with me and help me identify where the quartiers (neighborhoods) stop and start and where some of the most prominent figures in village live.

Finally, in January, I decided to start myself.

(I also need something to do to get me out of my house. My arms see plenty of action – hauling water our of a well, carrying it on my head, doing laundry by hand, sweeping my entire cement house with a two-foot long bundle of grass, etc. But my lower body has deteriorated into nothing. All my cycling/running muscle is gone…)

Anyways, long walks and getting to know my village even better was my new mission to start this year. After walking for about an hour, I decided to hang out at the school on the outskirts of village that had just emptied for lunch. It over looks adolescent hills that gradually mature into mountains in the distance. It was also.. quiet. A rare pleasure one can experience here in West Africa.. what with all the animal noises, aggressive conversations, babies crying, and music blaring 99.9% of the time. I spotted a collection of Baobab trees (African trees with knotted bodies that tower over you, complete with twisted branches and fruit hanging down) across the field from the school and decided to check them out.

On my way, I met a woman coming back from the fields that only spoke local language. Although we couldn’t really understand each other verbally, I could tell she thought I was lost. She gestured that to go to Teroda I needed to go left, and to go back to Kemerida I needed to go right. I tried to gesture that I understood, but wanted to stay here. I tried to do all the good-bye’s in Kabiye and then continue on my way to the tree cluster. However, she refused to leave unless I went with her. She walked me all the way back in to town and acted as if she’d done me a huge favor. To humor her I said all the local language thank-yous and remained in town.

The idea of just walking here doesn’t exist. You have to have a purpose. And you have to tell everyone that purpose. I feel like I just turned 16 and am determined to explore the world, but then there’s 1,000 parents asking where I’m going, for what, and how long I’ll be. And it’s not that they don’t listen to my answers.. just sometimes they actually can’t understand them..

I decided to walk to Judith’s and explain my predicament: 1. What do I tell people when I just want to walk? And 2. How can I learn about the village without having someone there to guide me? Judith 

always has the best solutions.

The next morning Roman (her 14 year old son) showed up at my door and said he was to take me on a tour of the village. I packed a backpack and off we went. We toured four different quartiers and I learned the dominant families in each one.  If we came up on a hill, we would run to the top of it and look out over the fiels that continue for miles. Every fruit tree we passed, he would teach me the names in Kabiye, and then shoot us down a sample. After a couple hours, he asked if I was tired, or if I wanted to check out the community garden. He hadn’t watered it yet today and if I was up for it, he’d like to show me. He warned me it was a pretty far walk though.

Honestly, I didn’t even know we had a community garden before that moment? Naturally, I jumped on the chance to see it. How could I be here for 6 months already and just learn this information? I owed it to my community to become familiar with this major missing chunk of information.

The garden runs a long a river about a mile outside of my village and continues about 2 miles down it. Each family has their own plot of land that they can choose to cultivate or not. Roman said they start working the garden in August and then everything is ready in February. Then in March, no one works in the garden anymore because it’s time to start on the corn.

He explained all this on the 30 minute walk out there. His little plot was towards the furthest end of the garden.. As we end up on top of a hill over looking the shrinking river (2 months of dry season already), you can see the land divide into shapes of different colors and sizes. Well.. the colors were all mostly green. But different greens. The cabbage lots were the most noticeable.

As we get closer, you can see bikes parked underneath the trees, women starting fires to boil some yams in their marmites for the workers in the field, women in clusters bending over at the waster to pick peppers, and boys running back and forth to the river to fill up watering cans. Again, I experience the same serenity I discovered sitting outside the school looking into the hillside.

When we reached Roman’s plot, he showed me this melons, cabbage, lettuce, carrots, and pimante (peppers). He picked a few of them for us to eat. After he showed me where he keeps his watering can and enters the river, he let me water his patch. After we were done, we crossed a bridge to the other side to continue doing the same thing with his friends. He told them I’d already watered with one can, and together they decided I should prove that I could do two. One of Romans friends went first to demonstrate.

He took the two huge pails, agilely worked his way down the slippery slope into the river bed, walked in to the knees, submerged the water cans, and ran back up the steep mud covered bank back with his arms locked in 45 degree angles, biceps the size of my face. Then, with a pail in each hand, he lowered his arms into slightly obtuse angles, maintaining bicep contraction and watered the patch with both pails at the same time. “See, it’s easy,” he says. 

So now I guess it’s my turn.

In my chacos, I very ungracefully slip down the slope, but manage to stay on my feet. While in my mind, like a broken record, plays “please, don’t fall.. please, don’t fall.” Upon making it down to the water and wading in, I remember a lecture from the Peace Corps Med Unit about fresh water sources in Togo.. and their very adamant warnings to avoid them. Because of things like Schisto.. and other extra intestinal parasites. So, distracted from my thoughts of self-preservation, my mind flipped a switch to, “please, don’t get schisto.. please, don’t get schisto.. was that a pink snail?.. because I think those carry schisto.” Too late now though, I decide. I’m already in the water. Elbow deep, filling up my pails. I emerge with my two cans, 45 degree angles, and cramps threatening my biceps. I work my way up the bank with very slow and deliberate steps. I felt like I should be wearing one of those sumo wrester costumes ballooning around me. You know the ones where you face each other in a squat position and then slowly rotate around each other with huge, purposeful steps in preparation to charge? Maybe it’s just me.. but that’s how I felt walking up this slope with the watering cans.

The boys up top are giggling, but they let me continue. I take a steep step up to the garden and waddle over the quenched vegetables and let my elbow angles become obtuse. I can tell I’m absorbing all the effort in my back and straining parts of my body more than I should be, but I’m succeeding! Two handed watering. Ohhh yeahhhh. The boys all applaud me and tell me I can help them work in the garden any time.

After Roman and I finish with his friends, I’m on cloud 9. Probably all the endorphins I produced in those 3 minutes my arms threatened to burst.. I started thinking about how therapeutic it would be to do this every day. To bike out to this garden early in the morning, away from all the noise, and work side by side my neighbors for my livelihood. Eat boiled yams, nap under a huge tree, and then continue into the afternoon. I decided to ask Roman if there was a way to make it happen. He told me I could help him with his garden for now, and then maybe in August we could find a plot just for me.

Continuing with my elation, we made our way down the river and into many more families’ gardens. I offered my watering services and in exchange got cabbages the size of my head. When we reached the pimante fields, we were given some of those freshly boiled yams (taste like baked potatoes) that we snacked on in between disrobing bushels from all of their peppers. Roman also taught me the names of all the vegetables in Kabiye and how to say other phrases related to fieldwork. At the end of the day, several people invited me back the next week and they’d sent me home with an entire bucket of pimante peppers, that I don’t really even eat..

We ended up getting back to Judith’s around 2 o’clock, sunburned (well, just me) and starved. We delivered the fruits of our labor and then Judith prepared a meal. Fed and ready for a nap, I made my way home, gifting everyone I met pimante peppers on the way.

This was by far one of my favorite days in village. I woke up with no plans, as usual, and not only found an enjoyable way to kill one day, but now have plans for how to get out of my house and into my community for the next month! I’ve already talked to Roman and we are heading to the garden this weekend. He has school, but he told me I could work with him every Saturday. I’ve also made plans just to make a short trip out there a few afternoons just to see if I can lend a hand.

I really hope come August, I’m able to start my own plot. Working in a garden almost every day for a few months sounds challenging, but also such an amazing thing for my mind and body to take on.

There are a lot of things I miss about the U.S. every single day.

But there are a lot of things I can do here that I know I’d never have time for without this opportunity.

I am getting busier as my projects take off, but it is so nice to know that I will almost always have time to waste with yoga and gardening.

Here, I always have time for growth.

Pun intended.

Happy gardening my friends,

Kumealo

La santé avant tous

Health Club

February 4th

“La santé avant tous!”

That’s what I say in response to the kids in my health club’s chants of “Le Club de Sante!” when I pass them on the street, in the market, or greeting everyone after church.

It’s supposed to be a members’ only thing. You know. Real secretive and exclusive like. Mostly I think they do it just to make me happy. And it works. every time.

Tomorrow will be the 4^th meeting of my health club at the CEG (ages similar to Jr. High). We meet each Wednesday from noon to 13h.

Despite having done this 3 times already, I still get really nervous.

Trying to give a technical presentation that’s fun, informative, and in a language you just started working on 6 months ago to a bunch of teenagers is not a piece of cake. It’s actually more like a whole cake. that’s cream filled. with 4 tiers, fancy icing flowers, chocolate covered fruits, and pearl strands. That shoots fireworks off of itself.

But, for the time being, it’s the only real work I can say that I’ve begun here in Togo. And it’s also something that continually makes me very happy to be here and gives me a lot of hope for what’s to come.

I’ll try to give you a brief synopsis of the meetings we’ve had thus far and my own insights on them.

Our first meeting was the second Wednesday after school started for the second trimester. We did introductions, discussed rules and expectations, reviewed the syllabus for the next few months, and talked about ideas for the club’s chant (to be continued..)

I find a secret pleasure in telling people my real name. I guess by saying that my American name is Shea, I feel like I’m reminding people that I had a life before Kemerida and Kumealo. Usually, I’m either overwhelmed by the feeling of being a complete stranger, or the feeling of losing myself just to be a little bit more like everyone else. Introducing myself as Kumealo-but oh-wait-really-it’s-Shea, to me, is my way of saying, “I am here by choice. I willingly accept this impossible challenge of conformity and integration, (hell, I volunteered for it) but I am also still the person I always was.”

Also during this meeting, I discovered the lack of originality in self-expression. Or more so, the lack of value in personal identity in the Togolese culture.  When I did my introduction, I also included things that I liked, at home and here in Togo. Then, I asked the kids to introduce themselves and say one thing that they liked. My observations were that 1. I will never learn all their names. ever. They aren’t as elementary as Nala and Simba. And 2. Everything that they like, is everything that I like. Including things that don’t exist in Togo. They just repeated to me things that I had already said, like Mexican food and yoga. It made me reflect back on my childhood in the States where I’d be pissed if someone said their favorite color was red before I did. “Bitch, stole my color!” (Okay, maybe that’s the more adult version of what I would have thought as a child, but I’m working to make this relatable, okay?).

In the U.S., from a very young age, we try so hard to come up with original ideas. Every one wants to define themselves with a different idea, opinion, or desire. Being able to think for ourselves sort of shows we’ve figured out a little bit in this crazy world. But here, the people don’t feel that intellectual pressure. When all of your time is directed towards simple survival, there’s not a whole lot of room for entertaining philosophical ideas and contemplating the unknown. How they measure how much they’ve mastered in this life is whether or not they can perfectly mimic the technique for making pate, doing laundry, and carry things on their heads. Through careful observation, you can see that each person’s physical actions are done in a very specific and deliberate manner. A practice that’s been perfected and passed down through history. When all of your time is directed towards simple survival, there’s not a whole lot of room for entertaining philosophical ideas.Repetition here is the way only way to learn. It ensures you master the information and methods you need to succeed without the whole trial and error process. The kids repeated what I said because they didn’t want to run the risk of getting it wrong. Everything here is wrong or right. Black or white. There’s not a gray area for “hey I think this, let’s have a discussion about it.” This will definitely be something I keep in mind for the remainder of my time working here in Togo.

Week 2, we continue easing in to all the technicalities surrounding health education. As our first official lecture, we discussed the importance of good health – essentially, why you made a great choice joining this club and how this knowledge is going to improve the rest of your life! (insert jolly thumbs up motion) I had 4 posters: 1. What does it mean to have good health? 2. Why is good health important to you? 3. Why is your good health important to others? 4. What are some general practices to maintain good health? Then we had a group discussion to fill them out. My personal favorite was number 3. I felt that by being a catalyst in this discuss about how your health affects so many other things, I was able to encourage these kids to take on a new perspective. To think outside their own personal box. We started with immediate effects on friends and family, but then were able to get into the economy and development. At the end of the lesson I asked them, what is the main thing that we learned today? One student silently held up a portable chalkboard that said: “La santé avant tous.” And that’s how we got our slogan.

That chalkboard was then passed to the back row, where a group of boys had to work together to write out “I love you, Shea” (I inserted that comma. Not giving them too much extra credit here) and held it up for me to see. First, I’m impressed they remembered my real name. And spelled it correctly. Second, I’m rolling my eyes in my mind. But also smiling/giggling outwardly. Three, wondering how old these kids even are. And four, why the heck do they have a little chalkboard. And where can I get one. After the meeting, they invited me to go drink tchouk in the market with them, but I declined. For one reason, I still had work to do and tchouk puts me.. in a good place. But also, would it be inappropriate to drink with the students in my club? To be determined..

Also, a girl brought me a bag with four papayas. My mind went to, “Man, one of these things is like 8 apples.” (Please get apple/teach reference – I’m very self-conscious about my sense of humor via typing.)

Last week was not my favorite. I needed a filler week - something to pass a lesson before starting HIV that could be completed in one hour and required zero follow up. We did.. the importance of hand washing. It is a very very addressable issue here in Togo. It just also happens to be one of the least exciting to talk about. I drew a diagram about how everyone’s shit from outside (because the majority of people use the bathroom outside) ends up on our hands, in our food, and consequently, in our stomachs. Then we did a demonstration with oil to illustrate the importance of soap. I poured some on my hands, and then had 5 kids stand in a line next to me. I shook the first persons and then it continued down the line. In the end, each person had it on their hands – demonstrating how we share microbes from one person to another. Then, we washed our hands with just water. Shockingly enough, the oil wouldn’t come off. But the second time with soap.. now that did the trick – demonstrating that the microbes are only effectively removed when one uses soap.

We wrapped up this week with a survey on HIV. Since I’d be starting lectures on it next time and continuing with them for a month, I wanted to see what the kids already knew. Then, at the end of my 4 lessons, I’m going to give them the same questions to see what the learned. Really, I’m just forcing them to unknowingly partake in an evaluation of myself..

They freaked out about the questions at first, convinced they were a test. I had them write their names on them for attendance, but that may have been a mistake.. I asked them 1. What does HIV attack? (14% correct) 2. What are the three modes of transmission? (19% correct) 3. What are two ways to prevent getting HIV? (47% correct) and 4. Is there a cure for it? (86% correct).

Despite how uneasy it made them, and the fact that I’m now afraid no kids will show up next week, I’m really glad I asked those questions. Less than 50% can name two ways of how to protect themselves. Some even said a prevention method was washing your hands. Then, when I asked about transmission, I learned some are convinced you can get it by simply having dinner with a person with HIV. It’s empowering to know that they have something to learn and that you can be the one to teach them. It makes me feel like my work here is meaningful and can at least make a difference to a few people. I’m really excited to see the survey results in 4 weeks!

And now for tomorrow. Our first lesson on HIV/AIDS. We are going to learn about how HIV attacks the immune system by playing a game with elephants and lions. Leaving out the tigers and bears. IT’S SO COOL.

One person is the baby elephant in the middle. It is protected by a group of 10 – 15 students in a circle around it that represent the rest of the herd. Then, 3 – 4 students are lions, whose objective is to break through the herd’s circle and attack the baby.

Round one: The lions fail to attack the baby elephant (ideally, it works this way…)

Then, a hunter comes in and kills off half of the herd protecting the baby elephant.

Round two: The lions serve the baby elephant up on a platter.

Then, I’ll make the miraculous connection between the animals and the elements of HIV. Baby elephant = immune system. Big elephants = white bloods cells that protect the immune system. Lions = opportunistic infections. Hunter = HIV. So what happens when HIV is present? It kills off the white blood cells protecting the immune system so that it’s easier for opportunistic infections to attack.

That just blew your mind.

I’m so pumped for this lesson. Fingers crossed it works out like it’s supposed to…

Also, I’ve had a lot of experiences lately that I’ve wanted to write about. However, there’s an inverse relationship between the time spent having those experiences, and the time available to write about them (that’s the excuse I’m using anyway). I have a list, but be patient. I’ll get it all out eventually.

My goal is to have 3 other blog topics addressed and linked to you before I touch American soil.. IN JUST OVER 4 WEEKS! (Just short vacation. Coming back in order to keep feeding your blog reading addition. Promise.)

In the meantime, I’m going to go teach some kids about the relationship between our body’s immunity and The Lion King.

La santé avant tous,

Kumealo

Tick (I'm here) Marks

January 10^th

I don’t really believe in making New Year’s resolutions.

We have 364 other days in a year that are equally as appropriate for evaluating ourselves. You know – comparing where we are now to where we want to be.

I think if you really want to make a change in your life, you make it. You don’t need two new numbers at the end of month/day/year (or for Togo – day/month/year) to coincide with the new efforts you’re implementing to be the best version of yourself.

HOWEVER.

After just a few days of this New Year in Togo, what I’ve come to realize is that what people use January 1^st for, I have been using the other transitions in my life for. I would evaluate myself and make personal adjustments on expected occasions of change within the year.

At the start of a new semester: What did I want to change from the previous semester? What do I want to get out of these classes? Are there ways to be a better student? If so, what are they? What’s my life like outside of school? What do I want to change about it?

At the start of a new job: How is this job different? How is it the same? What does my work say about me? How does this contribute to my future? Do I have any idea what that future should be?

Moving into a new place: How does this affect my budget? What do I want my room to say about me? Is this a place I can work? Live? Just sleep? What’s the roommate situation?

After a big accomplishment: So I biked 4,000 miles. Now what? What’s the next experience that will make me feel that way? I ran a half. Am I ready to train for a full? I went vegetarian. It failed. Why? What did I learn? I graduated from college. WHAT THE F DO I DO NOW?!

Transitions.

Since, for the first time, there don’t seem to be any lurking within 2014, I guess it’s time to practice my way with hypocrisy and do some of my re-evaluating right now. With (gasp) this New Year.

I get it now. The New Year is a transition. Maybe not a personal one. I mean, those digits aren’t changing on my behalf. But still one I can take advantage of.

So, to follow-up on my last blog post about my fear of 2014 being a lost year…

I was afraid my first year without transitions meant my first year of no change.

But. To live is to change.

Just because the tick marks on the timeline of my life are becoming fewer and farther in between than they have been in the past, does not mean I have to experience less personal growth.

In fact, I’ve decided that a year of no change may bring with it the chance to discover who we really are.

Without the distractions of new places, new people, new life stages. Without the endings and all the new beginnings. We find ourselves. standing . . . still.

Able to take in what’s around us. To learn what we respond to without being forced to respond. To learn what initiatives we take without being forced to take initiative.

It’s true that learning how we adapt to new situations and overcome new challenges teaches us something about ourselves.

But learning how we are without those opportunities,

Learning how we are when we can just . . . be,

That, I think, tells us more.

So, while I’m standing still:

I resolve to treat this first year of consistency as an opportunity – as a chance to make habits.

To work on the person I want to be while I’m in between the tick marks.

To take this year of living in the same place, with the same job, with the same people and make it the 

best it can be.

I will take these next 12 months and commit myself to my service as a volunteer.

To really focus on cultivating relationships with people in my village.

To ensure that every effort I make regarding projects and community education contributes to a bigger whole – to an overhead, streamlined attempt towards behavior change and sustainability.

To really take advantage of the level of cultural integration I can achieve by living in a foreign country for a complete year.

To not let that excuse of “being in a foreign country” prevent me from doing things I find value in back home. Maintaining a healthy lifestyle by eating right and exercising. Being autonomous. Establishing boundaries. Standing up for myself.

To learn things that I’ve only ever told myself I would. Guitar. Yoga. Indian cuisine.

I also resolve to be consistently conscious of how each of my actions contributes to who I am and the life I want to lead.

And to continue reflecting and making changes on the other 364 days of the year (Well, now 355). Just like I always thought I’d been doing in the past.

For those of you with changes coming within the year, take advantage of them. It’s practically inevitable that you’ll learn something.

For those of you like me, starting a year of consistency, resolve to make it the best it can be. You may be standing still, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be learning something.

Also, don’t just go through the motions. Be cognizant of all the efforts you put in to each day. Only then can you continue evaluating and changing once this New Year has passed like all the others.

By being conscious of where we are daily, disregarding all the major transitions, only then are we made aware of our progress towards where we want to be.

Here’s to embracing the space between the tick marks,

Koumealo

I killed a bird and I liked it.

The title was very impulsive. I think I crave excuses to reference American pop culture. Katy Perry, anyone? What's happening to me...

January 5th, 2014

Disclaimer: If gory details about the murder of an innocent bird might upset you, skip the paragraph starting with “1.”…

Happy New Year!!  Bonne Année!!!

I’ll admit it. Spending Christmas and New Year’s in a foreign country, away from everyone you love, is pretty tough.

But, like with most things in the Peace Corps, you learn to make do. (Which isn’t so bad when you receive four Christmas packages… complete with a pre-lit tree and monogrammed stockings – my mother, obviously.)

I spent Christmas back up in Dapaong with a group of volunteers. One of the Togolese Peace Corps employees has a house up there and throws a party for volunteers Christmas Day. Since I couldn’t be home, it was great to be there – surrounded by other English speaking individuals missing their families, cold weather, and dessert. We had a white elephant gift exchange and a Christmas talent show. I’m happy to say I’ve re-mastered the shimmy after Hillary, Kelsey, and mine’s rendition of “Santa Baby”. Lynn Bates, you’d be proud.

I returned back to village on the 29^th. I had heard some things from older volunteers regarding New Year’s Day in village that encouraged me to spend the occasion with my Togolese friends rather than other Americans.

These things one heard included:

“Be sure to kill a bunch of chickens and give away the meat.”

“You’re going to need three outfits.”

“It’s like Halloween in Africa. The kids dress up and come around for candy.”

“Buy a bottle of liquor. People are going to come your house for shots.”

Now that your imagination is running away with you, let me tell you what really happens in village for New Year’s Day.

All. Of the. Above.

1. Buying a bunch of chickens.

December 30th, I talked to my favorite family about buying some chickens. I asked if I paid for one, would they help me kill it? I’ve wanted to try since being here, but kinda needed the reason to do it.

They said I should buy a pintarde (guinea fowl) because they were in season. They would look for one to buy and if I wanted to, I could kill it.

New Year’s Eve. 7:30am.  Guinea fowl located.

Ayim called me up and said if I had the cash, he’d reserve it for us. Later that afternoon, he showed up at my house and took me to claim my prize.

He said it was necessary to kill it that night so that after church the next day we only had to make rice before we could eat. I’d originally planned on doing it right after church so that I had time to emotionally prepare myself, say a little prayer for its soul, all that jazz, but the time was now.

The man handed me my victim by the feet. Fun fact: if you hold guinea fowl or chickens upside down by their legs, they become paralyzed. Who knew? So, not only was mine heading to his untimely death, he also suffered from temporary paralysis during his final moments on this earth.

We took the bird back to Judith and Ayim’s. As we walked, I could feel its pulse and body heat through my hand securing the legs. It was very alive. And I could imagine its pulse fading and its body temperature still warm as we would prepare to cook it.

Their son Roman was in charge of helping me take its life. He dug a little hole in the ground for the blood to spill into. He handed me a knife, secured the bird’s wings, and bent back its head to clearly expose the neck. He told me to cut.

I’ve shot birds before. Well, I’ve tried to shoot birds before. With the intention of killing them. But sawing through that poor bird’s neck with a dull knife was slow and difficult. A third of the way through, they told me to stop and let it bleed out. The poor guy flopped around the yard getting weaker and weaker. I tell myself it was just the nerves. It helps me sleep better at night to think that.

After the flopping ceased, we knew it was over. I picked it up by the feet and threw it into a big basin. Judith poured boiling water over it and we watched the feathers melt off its skin. Then we went in and finished pulling them out ourselves. Roman taught me how to do the first main dissections. Legs. 

Wings. Breasts. And he did the rest.

Judith would finish cooking it that night and we’d eat it tomorrow as planned.

(Obviously this is overdramatic. I just wanted to write about the experience in a way that read as traumatic as I felt. Judith’s family got a huge kick out of it. Killing birds is something they do weekly. Goats and sheep are slaughtered by hand pretty often here as well. Don’t worry. Not up for all that. Really killing the bird wasn’t so bad. I’m glad I had the experience, but it’s not something I’ll really sign up for again.. unless I have a sharper knife or an axe. I could tolerate a quick death. Seems more humane.)

2. Appropriate attire.

I bought a bulk of pagne a month or so ago. I didn’t need all of it, but Judith got me a good price in the marche. So, I promised her whatever fabric I didn’t use she could take to have a dress made for herself. 

Both of our dresses were done in time for New Year’s. I asked her if she wanted to wear them to church on New Year’s so that we would match. She said she’d had another outfit made for church already. She also had an outfit for walking around the village after church. But, she’d be willing to match with me for her third outfit of the day when she had people at her house. She informed me that it’s necessary to have at least two outfits for the day. If I wanted to match her, it’d be better to not wear mine to church as well. If I did, I’d have to change after church and then the timing would be off.

From my past experience, I’ve noted that most people here have 3 or 4 formal outfits that they wear over and over and over. I never see people in new things. I’m pretty confident I can tell you every item in Judith’s closet.

Now I realize it’s probably because they’re all concerned with spending every other day of the year getting their money’s worth out of those three our four New Year’s outfits…

3. Kids and candy.

Okay. So it’s not Halloween. But after church, in their Sunday best, mothers take their kids around the village to stop at houses for candy and snacks.

Thanks mom and Omar for the candy you sent. Now I know how Santa feels. I walked around village on Bonne Annee with a bag of Lifesavers, candy canes, and Hershey kisses.

4. Bar crawl.

While the kids get candy, the adults get liquor. Or tchouk. Or both.

After church, people went home to change. I stuck with Judith and she said we had to walk around to visit some people before we went to her house to eat my bird.

Each house we visited came with alcohol. You could only take a little if you chose, but you had to take something. It was impolite not too.

Each house also usually had food.

Four hours and four houses in, I was full of 3 tiny shots of whiskey, 4 calabashes of tchouk, a beer, a glass of wine and some couscous. Thank goodness for that couscous…

I was dreading the walk to anywhere else. I was convinced I was going to vomit or pass out. I told Judith that if we were going to continue, I needed a nap. Now.

She had her sister walk me home. Luckily, I only couldn’t refuse one more calabash.

I slept for 2 hours and then prepared myself for round 2. Good news is most of the Kabiyes in my village continued drinking through their daily repose (rest) from 12-3. So, when I was ready to get back in the game around 4, most of the partying had died down. I was able to continue the evening with a trip to Mathilde’s and a final calabash with dinner at Judith’s.

The few people’s houses I missed just told me to come by tomorrow.

Apparently the celebration lasts for a few days…

If the thought of  New Year’s Eve ever crossed your mind, I figured I should tell you I was asleep by 10pm..

But all the partying people do the night before in the U.S. is done over three days here in Togo.

It wasn’t what I’m used to, but it was a great way to bring in 2014.

Now that it’s a few days later, I’m having a minor melt down about spending this ENTIRE YEAR IN TOGO. When it turns 2015, I will still be here.

In 12 months, I WILL STILL BE HERE.

It’s really making me evaluate what I want out of this next year of service.

2012 and 2013 brought a lot of great changes in my life. Some of my chapters ending and some just beginning.

In fact, now that I think about it, almost every year of my life that I can remember has included some form of transition.

Always ending a school year. Starting a school year. Driver’s license. 21. College graduation. New job. Hong Kong. Bike Trip. 

This entire year gets lost in one big chapter – Peace Corps Togo: Summer 2013-Summer 2015.

2014 gets lost in there. It has no foreseen exciting events.

This is the first real year of consistency. I guess that’s a new thing in itself, right?

I’ll have to come up with ways to keep this year just as exciting and eye opening as the rest of ‘em.

With nothing on the horizon, may it be full of surprises.

I hope you had a great beginning to 2014.

May this year be full of change, reflection, and happiness.

Be excited.

Koumealo

Giving Thanks

December 5^th

Celebrating Thanksgiving in a developing country can really contribute a lot to one’s perspective.

Despite being far from my family and the pleasures of Fall, I was fortunate enough to be able to spend the day with about 40 other volunteers in Dapaong, the regional capital of Savanns – the northernmost region of Togo.

I paid 4000cfa to make the four-hour bus ride up on Wednesday, enjoyed a 6000cfa turkey dinner at a nice hotel on Thursday, and headed down to Lome on Friday. When you factor in the other food I purchased and the few beers over two days, plus the trip back, I spent maybe 20000cfa trying to simulate a Thanksgiving back home in the States.

20000cfa is about $40.

For a nice dinner, two days worth of food, alcohol, and travel, you’d think that’s actually pretty cheap.

However, that’s more than a lot of families here in Togo will ever have in their possession at one time.

The 6000cfa dinner alone could probably provide a family of 4 here with meals for almost a month.

The 20000cfa for the 2 days could provide 3 families of 4 here meals for a month.

Now, think about how much your Thanksgiving feast cost you.

That’s perspective.

Don’t worry; this is not a criticism of the Thanksgiving holiday. I enjoy gorging myself on turkey, stuffing, and pumpkin pie as much as the next person. When I return to the U.S. after two years in Togo, I’ll probably eat enough at that first Thanksgiving home to make up for the two that I missed.

This is, however, a criticism of our society’s tendency to forget how fortunate we are. I know, because I’m guilty of it as well. I didn’t realize all of this until after I’d stuffed my face and headed back from Dapaong.

In fact, all I said this year at the dinner table was what I say every year:

“I am thankful for my family and friends, my health, and the opportunities I’ve had in my life that have brought me to where I am today.”

That’s it. Almost exactly like last Thanksgiving. It just comes out like a rehearsed line. No extra effort or thought.  My mouth forms the words almost unconsciously…

What I realize now is to be truly thankful we need to be conscious! We need to develop a special awareness for all the good things life brings us. Just trying to recognize a few, small blessings outside of the obvious ones can make you look at every day in an entirely new light.

Now that I’ve had my epiphany, I’d like to do it over.

This year for Thanksgiving,

I’m thankful for my family. And that I still have all of them in my life. And that they are healthy and, as far as I know, happy.

I’m thankful for my friends. Past and present. Every one of them has contributed something to my life to make it what it is – some, a very great deal.

I’m thankful for my health. Not just in this moment, but throughout my life. I would not have been able to see the places I have or do the things I’ve done without it. So far, it’s been holding up pretty well here in West Africa too.

And I’m thankful that if I’m ever not in good health, at least back home anyway, that I have immediate access to the care I need. While in Togo, I’m thankful I work for the U.S. government and that at least gets me the best that’s available during my service.

I’m thankful that I come from a place where we need holidays to encourage all of our family members to merge their separate schedules and lives to all get together and enjoy each other’s company. Really, what I mean is that I’m thankful that we all have the opportunities to lead separate live and become our own people – as opposed to all of us living under one roof, without enough beds, sharing every moment and ever meal together.

I know this is morbid, but I’ve never thought of it before. I’m thankful that, for a lot of us, death is something that is tragic and, often, life altering. There are places where it is simply an expectation. Especially for children.

I’m thankful the world makes me feel so small. Never will I ever feel like I’ve seen and done every thing. I can constantly be longing for new sights, striving to learn new things, and get lost in experience again and again.

I’m thankful for my education. Especially after learning how hard it is for people many places to get one. Women even more so. I’m lucky enough to have always seen it as a guarantee in my life.

I’m sure as hell thankful to be an American woman. This deserves its own blog post.

I’m thankful for Texas 4000. I’m thankful for Ruel.

I’m thankful I’ve been able to serve in the Peace Corps and realize so many things about life and myself just within these first 6 months.

I’m thankful that I’m able to smile at my past, for right now, really enjoy the present, and look forward to my future. If you think about it, I’m not sure how many people in this world can do all three at the same time.

Lastly, I’m thankful to feel I have the chance to control that future – to make choices about the direction of my life (that hasn’t changed despite reading War and Peace). I’ve witnessed how completely defeated people feel here by the circumstances that life has dealt them. The majority will never entertain the idea of challenging the only future they see for themselves. And I can’t say I blame them. Life altering opportunities are few and far in between.

This isn’t nearly a complete list, but I figured you’d stop reading if I went on much longer.

I hope you found it much more rewarding to consider than my previously mentioned, well rehearsed, Thanksgiving “This is What I’m Thankful For”.

And note, although I used Thanksgiving as an excuse to share the new things this experience has made me grateful for, I hope you realize that you need Thanksgiving to give thanks just about as much as you need New Year’s to make resolutions.

Again, this blog post is not intended to be a lecture, and it’s certainly not meant to make you enjoy Thanksgiving any less. I only wanted to share this change in my perspective with the hope that it will encourage you to evaluate how much you have to be thankful for.

We usually know to appreciate what we have right in front of us, but there’s much more to it than that.

A lot of the blessings we have are not what we can see with our eyes, but what we can see by looking through the eyes of someone less fortunate.

I hope you all had a wonderful holiday.

It’s a couple weeks past Thanksgiving, but who cares – go and give thanks.

Koumealo

P.S. Another reality I’ve come to terms with here, is that we don’t need to spend time in third world countries to figure this out! There are people in the United States just outside our doors and down the street suffering from poverty just as extreme, if not more, as people here in West Africa.

If this blog has inspired you (probably a long shot, but I’ll just pretend), Christmas is just around the corner and provides plenty of opportunities to get involved in charity work.

And again, why wait for a holiday? Volunteer any time in any way to give back to those less fortunate. You don’t have to move to Africa to do it.

Initiating Launch

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

First three months down. I’ve done a lot of observing and integrating. My language still has a ways to go before I’m at a professional level, but nevertheless, it’s time to start some projects.

Now, among the many things I’ve learned thus far living in Togo, one is that nothing is going to work out exactly as you’ve planned. So, as I present the following project ideas to you, keep in mind they will most likely fail or be altered significantly.

But, you gotta start somewhere, right?

Ideally, these are the major projects that I will be working to develop throughout my next 21 months.

Care Group

My village has just over 4,000 people, the majority of whom (women and children) only speak Kabiye. I will never be able to host sensibilizations for that many people, nor will I ever be fluent in Kabiye. So, as a health volunteer, it’s a huge obstacle to identify how to reach everyone in the population. The Care Group is a project that will help me bridge that gap.

Let’s say my village has 300 homes. For every 10 homes, there will be 1 woman representative. That’s 30 women to represent all the households in Kemerida. Each month myself and a partner (I’ve chosen the accoucheuse of my dispensaire), will meet with these 30 women and train them on a different health topic. Then, it is those women’s responsibility to go to their 10 homes and regurgitate the same training. It reaches the people of my village in their homes, on their terms, in their language. So much more than I could ever hope to do alone.

The Care Group also has the benefit of being able to provide excellent means of monitoring and evaluation. Each month, I can send my women representatives out with pre and post surveys. I will be able to see how many people they’re reaching with my initial sensibilitazations and determine how the community’s former knowledge evolves with each presentation. I’m also a numbers nerd, so I’m really excited about the possibility of using this information to identify areas of focus in my community for second year projects.

Ideally, the ASCs (community health workers) of Kemerida will be a great resource for helping keep the women of my Care Group motivated and accountable. ASCs already work for the dispensaire doing similar work. The issue is there are significantly less of them and the topics they present to the community are more limited. I hope they will compliment the efforts of my Care Group and work with me to do follow up visits.

Things I’m doing now to prepare:

Using my very limited internet, I was able to download satellite pictures of my village. I’ve spent the last couple weeks copying them over to one large map. I will use this map to try to identify where the majority of people in Kemerida live. 4,000 people. That is not an easy task. In some cases, I will settle for just learning how many households are in each neighborhood. I hope to have this complete by the end of the month.

After getting a better idea of how the population is distributed, I can determine how many women I need and section of the houses into groups that need a representative. I will then work with my homologue, Ben, the ASCs, and the dispensaire staff to identify women one woman in each group that speaks/reads and writes in French and is responsible enough to participate in the Care Group. I would like my women to be selected by the end of the December.

January, we will hold our first meeting. This will give me the opportunity to evaluate the group and determine if any adjustments need to be made.  Our first training/sensibilization will occur in February.

School Health Club

I want to start a health club at the CEG across the street from my house. The last level of education there would be my focus. It includes kids ages 12 to 16ish that are in their last year before high school. They speak and write decent French, so I’d be able to do presentations with them. Also, I’d love to involve them in skits and art projects regarding health issues here in West Africa.

Starting in the second trimester in January (first one already started), I would like to meet once a month. Each month will have a different topic. It will be for girls and boys combined. However, during the month for sexual health, I’ve decided it would allow for a more open, and thus more educational, environment to split up the sexes. Other monthly topics I have in mind are HIV/AIDS, malaria, nutrition, hygiene and sanitation, and life skills. 

Also, if things work out like I’m hoping, we also be able to take a field trip to the University of Kara one month.

Things I’m doing now to prepare:

First, I must meet with the director of the CEG to get his approval. The issue is that, currently, there is a nationwide teacher strike occurring. School has been cancelled until the government reaches a consensus about what the pay raise is going to be.  This post concludes the 3^rd week of no school. Fingers crossed it starts back up soon.

After school is back in session, I plan to sit in on some classes for the duration of this trimester just to get acquainted with the students and learn more about the education system here in Togo. 

Before meetings start, I will also need to find a teacher to help me lead the club. They will be the person I prep to take over the club for me once my service is complete. It’s not worth the effort if I can’t make this project sustainable.

Community Fetes (Festivals)

Using the Care Group and the School Health Club, I’d like to plan village wide fetes every few months.

These will require a lot of planning and will occur every few months. They will focus on the topics I would like to stress in my community. Ideas I have currently are a Paludisme fete (malaria), VIH/SIDA fete (HIV/AIDS), a Family Planning fete, and a Hygiene and Sanitiation fete.

Things I’m doing now to prepare:

Creating a calendar for potential fetes.

I made a chart of 6 calendars starting January 2014 through September 2015 (end of my service).

Calendar 1: World Wide Holidays (Worlds AIDS day, Women’s day, Malaria Day, etc)

Calendar 2: Togo’s School Calendar (which is actually, for the most part, unpredictable)

Calendar 3: Preliminary Care Group Calendar

Calendar 4: Preliminary Health Club Calendar

Calendar 5: Already established Community Events (i.e. Whipping Fete)

Calendar 6: Seasons of Togo (Rainy season, Harvest, Harmatan, Hot season)

By combining all of these, I am able to get a bigger picture of how all of my schedules can work together.

For example, April 25^th is World Malaria Day. In March, I can give a presentation to my Care Group about malaria (causes, prevention, etc). They will then take a pre-survey out to evaluate the knowledge and prevention practices of the 10 households they represent. That same month, since it’s during the school year, I will give a malaria presentation to my health club. They will work on a malaria skit and hopefully we will be able to get permission to paint a malaria mural at the dispensaire.

Beginning of April, my Care Group will invite all their households to the fete later that month. Around the 25^th, Kemerida will have its first annual Paludisme Fete. It will be the in front of the recently completed malaria mural and will have a skit performed by the health club. The major of the dispensaire will give a sensibilization in Kabiye to address the knowledge and prevention practices I gathered information on from the pre-surveys. There will be a net-washing station, repairing station, and a net hanging demonstration. Also, what’s a Kabiye fete without some Tchouk?

In May, after the fete, the Care Group will be able to give a post surveys to gather data on how the community felt about the fete and what they learned. If it was successful, hopefully they’ll make it a yearly event.

Constructing a pre-birth house (not sure of the official name) for my dispensaire

Kemerida is the center of 4 villages that make up a canton. They are Kemerida, Teroda, Pyode, and Atchao. The dispensaire is easily accessible by residents of Kemerida, but those in the other three village have to travel quite a ways to access health care (and it’s typically by foot).

During my first few weeks at post, my major and another community leader asked my if I could make one of my projects building a house near the dispensaire for women to stay when they’re close to giving birth. This would encourage women from the more isolated areas to come to the dispensaire to have an assisted birth in a safe environment to help reduce infant mortality.

At the time, I told them I wanted to first observe the village and determine what health problems I thought needed to be addressed. After having the idea to start a Care Group, I returned to their initial request and told them that if I can gather data proving that it would be a benefit to the community, I would do what I could to make it happen. Using surveys, I plan to do just that. If my village demonstrates a genuine interest in the possibility and I can guarantee that it will be used for the right reasons, I will work to raise the funds with my position as a Peace Corps volunteer.

I warned both of them, however, that I would not be the leader of the project. I wanted the people of my village to do it themselves. I will attend all meetings, help decide the amount of material needed, and work within the establish timetable, but one person, or a committee of people, needed to lead the project. I believe that by giving people ownership of these types of projects, they are more likely to be protected against misuse – a big issue with development projects where money and/or materials are just handed over.

Lastly, I’m also part of the World Wise Schools Correspondence Match Program. I’m currently collaborating with a French teacher in Massachusetts. Her students send me questions about the Peace Corps and life in Togo that I respond to in French for their class. Eventually, I want to match them with the English class at my village’s CEG and start a pen pal program.

So, that’s it. Those are the things I’m working on now and praying will work out in the future.

One thing here I’ve come to miss is EFFICIENCY. You guys in America, be glad 95% of everything there is dictated by it. It makes your work much less of a guessing game and a hell of a lot less frustrating.

Again, I’ll have to let you know more month by month as things develop.

Don’t be surprised if this all changes completely. I just wanted you to get an idea of how I’m trying to make a difference here in my village and inform you that I’m not just doing yoga and reading books.

3-2-1 Blast Off.

Koumealo