As some of you may be aware from my recent post on facebook, I had my hair shaved earlier this month. With the temperature rising in each passing day, hot season gradually made this a more desirable and realistic option for me. Some days, the temperature reaches more than 120° and I find myself sweating from just a walk around the block. Even staying indoors doesn’t always provide relief, and sometimes makes the heat more smoldering.

A few days after the shave

This decision wasn’t completely hot season generated though. I’ve always wanted to, or rather been curious about what having a bald/shaven head would be like. I don’t know if I would ever have the guts to do it in the States, but this situation seemed to provide that extra bit of motivation. Now, I can officially check it off my bucket list.

Temperature aside, I also felt more comfortable shaving my hair because it’s a pretty common style for girls here. Just like school fees and other supplies, a shaven head is required for girls and boys attending public institutions. That being the case, I didn’t have to do too much searching to find a barber. In only 15 minutes of my day and 200 Fcfa (roughly 50 cents) out of my pocket, the shave was done. I even added an additional 50 Fcfa tip for the barber, which I think shocked him just as much as the shave shocked me.

I glanced in the mirror just briefly before leaving the shop, expecting the whole community to notice and comment on the change immediately. Instead, I exited and walked down the street just as I had come—without much notice. Even when I passed one of the cafeterias I frequent and talked with the owner for a few minutes, he didn’t say a word about my hair (or lack thereof).

When I left the cafeteria and continued through the market, I encountered the same response—nothing. This seemed so ironic to me, because normally in Togolese culture it’s okay to point out obvious, though less purposeful changes like, “you’ve got a pimple” “your clothes are dirty” or the no-longer applicable: “your hair needs to be braided.”

In some ways, I actually preferred the silence and quickly began to settle into this unexpected reaction. On my way to start doing some work for the day, I was greeted with yet another surprise. For the first time, I got to experience the wind on my head, an experience I will argue is much more satisfying that the wind in your hair.

Before I could enjoy this moment too long though, someone noticed the change and brought it to my attention. Just across from the radio station where I was heading, a lady selling popcorn and other snacks mentioned that I cut my hair and asked, “Is that what you want?” To be honest, I hadn’t yet figured that out for myself, but I responded with a quick, “Yes. It’s finished” in local language, and continued on my path.

At the radio station, I was greeted by the director who was sitting outside doing some paperwork. When he saw me coming, he just stopped and stared until I was close enough to conclusively confirm my identity. He also commented my hair, but asked a slightly different question, “Why did you do that?” Using French, I was able to explain the only good reason I had, “It’s too hot.”

On the other side of the short wall separating the radio station from a weavers group stood my laundry lady. She works washing clothes all over town and was scrubbing away when she stopped to look up at my head in horror. She only speaks local language, but fortunately (or not?) the radio station director I was standing next to delivered a translation for the next few things she said.

“You cut your hair… It’s not good. It’s not pretty. You’re like a man… It was nice before. Why did you cut it?” she demanded.

Before I realized she couldn’t understand, I responded back in French with, “It’s too hot” and then added the only applicable thing I knew to say in Kotokoli, “The sun.”

Again, she explained that my hair “is not good” along with several other things in local language I couldn’t understand and wasn’t given translations to this time. I only stayed at the radio station a few minutes longer before I went around the wall to take care of the second visit on my agenda, to see the weavers.

There, I was standing in front of the laundry lady face to face, and again she mentioned, “It’s not good.” This time she surprised me using English rather than Kotokoli or French. As I started to continue toward the weavers, she added a few more thoughts, now in Kotokoli, “You must put [on] jewelry. You look like men,” one of the weavers translated for me.

With the weavers, I received mixed reactions. However, in contrast to my initial reactions of nothingness, everyone noticed the change and made comments. Like my laundry lady, the weavers weren’t so bashful. The director of the group skipped through the normal greetings to instead say, “It’s not good for me. Your hair.”

Rather than responding myself, I asked another weaver what he thought. “It’s good for me.” He rebuttaled. This marked the first positive review I received. Quickly enough, my conversation with the weavers switched back to work, and in no time it seemed like my hair change was unnoticeable again.

On my way home, I was politely greeted by my neighbors, but again nothing was mentioned about my hair. It wasn’t until I went back out to the market late in the afternoon that things changed. Immediately upon stepping out of my door, my neighbors asked me, “You did your hair? Why?”

Then, at the market, all of the women that seemed not to notice earlier certainly did now. Repeatedly they said, “You did/you cut your hair” depending on the translation I received. Each time though, “Why?” served as the follow-up question. Some women were surprised and gasped when they saw me, adamantly saying “It’s not good.” Others raised their firsts and said, “It’s good! Good work.” Either way, they were all noticing.

Maybe more exciting than the market was another eventful part of my day. Outside my house I was greeted by a group of kids (not unusual), but rather than just say hello from afar, as I stepped toward my door, they ran to me. Several of them just wanted to touch me, so they grabbed my skin or waggled my hand too vigorously to be considered a hand shake. Then, they stopped and just stood there. They looked up at me with the biggest smiles until one tried to capitalize on the moment by throwing out the palm of her hand and saying, “Give me money” in local language.

This unusual, so I retorted with my default reverse psychology line, “Give me money” and put on my palm as well. After a brief hesitation, one of the wiser kids in the group grabbed a small rock from the ground and laid it in my palm. In response, I passed the rock on to the first kid who asked for money, and this seemed to quench the kids like an energy drink. The group started laughing wildly and took turns collecting rocks to put in my hand, or to place in the palms of the others. The more I continued along with the game, the more excited the kids became.

After a few minutes, I was convinced the game might never end, but one of my English club kids (and helpful neighbor) intervened. He shooed the kids a way and urged me to, “go back in your house so you can work. They will just bother you.” He explained.

While that game had the potential to last longer than I would care to play, I was still saddened by the abrupt ending of it. These kids didn’t let me down though. As I stepped inside my gate, the group followed in too with the reasoning, “we want to see your garden.” I didn’t mind that, so I let them in. The kids then started wandering around all over the yard, to the back of my house, and one girl even popped a squat to pee.

Again, the English club student helped me out by rounding up all the kids and again shooed them away. Once we got them out mostly the door, an old man walked in too. Thinking he was just curious about the parade of children exiting my door, or maybe that he wanted to see the garden too, I let him come in. He only spoke local language, but through the translations of my English club student, I learned neither of those reasons were of interest to him. Instead, he wanted to collect leaves. The English club student explained that he was a traditional medicine healer and wanted to collect some of the weeds growing in my garden to use for his craft.

Definitely willing to help him (and clean up my yard a bit), I let him go for it, and joined him in digging up the weeds he wanted. Before leaving, he also tried to give me natural medicine for malaria (not needed as long as I take my prophylaxis) and something for a sick stomach (not such a bad idea for any PCV).

From shaving my head without notice… to some notice, then to neighborhood notice (of that and of other things), it was one of those interesting days to be alive and in Togo. It also demonstrated the juxtaposition I often encounter here. As Volunteers, sometimes it seems like people don’t care one minute, but later on we might find a swarm of people waiting for us at home who do.

During the two years of servicefor Peace Corps Volunteers, there are five critical trainings. The first isbefore our official service even begins, called Pre-Service Training (PST). Thetime frame varies a bit from country to country, but in Togo it lasts nineweeks. Once we finish PST and get past our Swear-In Ceremony we become officialVolunteers and get sent to our official posts. We move up from PCT’s (PeaceCorps Trainees) to PCV’s (Peace Corps Volunteers).

Then, after three months ofgetting to know our new homes (“posts or sites” in Peace Corps lingo), we havea week-long In Service Training (IST). The focus of IST is to learn about thetypes of work opportunities for our Volunteer focus or sector. As a SmallEnterprise Development (SED) Volunteer, for me that means learning how to teachbusiness skills. IST focuses more on the practice/execution of our work thanthe things we learned at PST, because Volunteers are now ready to benefit fromthe information from knowing their sites.

Another three months down theline leads to Project Design Management (PDM). This also coincides with our sixmonth mark at post. At PDM, the focus varies, but ours was geared towardlearning about new sectors. This four day training was divided into behaviorchange during the first two days and permanent gardens on day three and part ofday four. We also had the opportunity to attend a few rotating sessions, so Ilearned about small scale animal raising and family planning at the end of thefourth day.

Near the one year mark in myservice I will also have to attend a Mid-Service Training (MST). While Ihaven’t yet been, from what I gather the idea is to see what the other membersof your training group have been up to at their sites. It also provides across-collaborative environment, because allVolunteer sectors come. Until this point, all of our training dates were alsocombined with the Volunteers we got on the plane with. This other sectorhappens to be Community Health and AIDS Prevention (CHAP), but MST includes theother sectors represented in Togo. There are also Volunteers for GirlsEducation and Empowerment (GEE) and Environmental Action and Food Security(EAFS) who start their service just four months after we do. MST is also a goodjumping off point for Volunteers to think about and plan how they want tomaximize their second (and last) year of service.

Finally, the last ‘training’ isactually a Close/Continuation of Service conference. Again, I haven’t yet beento this, but I’ve gathered that the goal is to prepare Volunteers to life afterthe Peace Corps. This includes not just life in America, but how to prepare leavingTogo/wrapping up work.

And why have I explained all ofthese different trainings? Well, several reasons. First, I needed to clarifyall of acronyms that have filled my blog, and provide some background on theseenigmatic “Peace Corps trainings” I have mentioned. Secondly, well.. during thelast PC training I attended (PDM), I learned that my sector (SED) will be cutfrom Peace Corps Togo.

While this will definitely havean impact on the rest of my service, it hardly effects me directly. That is tosay, the current SED Volunteers like me will not be removed from Togo, butinstead we are the last. There will not be more SED Volunteers entering Togo inJune as normal, nor will my training group be receiving replacement SEDVolunteers in June 2013. Overall, this will also lower the likelihood that ourposts will be replaced. The other three sectors in Togo will continue toreceive the same number of Volunteers (no increases), so if existing Volunteersfrom those sectors are scheduled to be replaced, there will simply not beenough Volunteers to fill the current SED posts.

We weren’t given detailed reasons for the cut, but broadly speaking the entirePeace Corps budget has been cut by more than $25 million. Manysectors are being cut in all Peace Corps countries, and SED is one that was cutall over West Africa and other parts of the world. Here in Togo, the SEDprogram hasn’t been reporting its goal numbers, which probably also had a bigimpact on the cut. On paper, our main goals are 1) work withindividuals/entrepreneurs, 2) work with youth 3) work with microfinanceorganizations and 4) work with people infected with HIV/AIDS. In reality, mostSED Volunteers I’ve talked with mostly focus on the first.

For me, this whole cut hasre-instilled the idea of sustainability to my service goals. Creating projectsand doing work that can continue once I’m gone has always been my goal, but nowthat’s on the forefront more than ever. Most Volunteers think sustainability,but still plan for having a replacement and giving them things to carry onwith. I’m also hoping to leverage this cut in my community by generatingcreating more motivation from people. Who knows, I could be their last shot tohelp them achieve their dream goals.

Though I’ve phrased this more asa cut, it was presented to us as a phasing out. It’s up to current SED PCV’s todo the phasing out, but I think that has been the goal all along.

It’s now been fivemonths since the last rain, but I’ve been hoping for it since it left. Almostas a way of signaling its grand finale, the season ended with a bang. It wasone of the longest lasting rains I’ve seen here, continuing the entire day andinto the night. It blocked all traces of the sky, which was instead filled withstorms, wind and lighting. In retrospect, I see this as its last bow beforeexiting the stage, but at the time it gave me the false hope rainy seasonwasn’t yet finished.

Almost immediatelyafter the rain, the clouds slowly dissipated as well. The round, puffy cumuli I’d grown accustomed to were replaced withnothing else but the blue sky itself. Sometimes wispier, thin clouds wouldpass, but it was always clear there would be no water. Rainy season was the firstand only season I knew in Togo, so the dryness hit me a striking change.

But… for the last fewweeks, I’d been noticing the thin clouds getting larger and heavier. Especiallyin the mornings, the sky would have the almost-rainy season allure I once knew.One day, I asked to one of my PCV neighbors (a term for the PCV’s closest by,in my case about 5 miles), “Have you noticed the clouds lately? It just mightrain.” Then, together we stared up at the sky, but ultimately determined thechange was probably just me. I recently started waking up earlier—between 5 and6 a.m.—to take morning walks/runs, but just around the time I’d finish, theclouds once again faded away.

My hope for rain keptme going though. Every morning I secretly hoped the sky would break open andlet loose a hard, long rain like before. Without the big, puffy clouds toprovide protection from the sun, or rain water to cool the earth, the weather washeating up each passing day. I turned my fan on for the first time sincearriving in Togo and recently began sleeping on my living room floor. A warninggiven to me by a COSing (Closing of Service) Volunteer became true. “There will be times in hot season whensleeping in your bed feels like you’re wearing a sweater.” He told me.

Along with the heat camean added layer of humidity and this once again spiked my rain suspicions. A fewtimes I spotted potential rain clouds in the skies—heavy, dark and gray. Theywould only pass throughout the day though, never stopping to give Togo a nice,cool shower. That is until yesterday (Feb. 19).

The same way thingshave been lately, clouds came and filled the sky, but these were tinted adeeper gray. On my run back home in the morning, I would have been content ifthe sky just burst open as I passed down the mountain. I kept my hopes up allmorning, but nothing happened.

Then, mid-day was sohot I found myself doing another fan first. Not only had I just started usingmy fan to sleep at night, I now turned it on for the first time during the day.I let it continue until around three o’clock. By then the sun grants us somemercy and begins to settle in the mountains and things begin to cool down. I stillkept my hope that rain was coming, and in an effort to confirm this Iasked a couple people from my villageabout it too. I was not just thinking it, but saying it, and would haveprobably would have started hallucinating soon if it didn’t actually come.Ironically, just a few minutes after I asked, come it did.

At first the specksfilled the ground slowly, but the intensity began to build. The droplets grewin size, and pounded on my concrete walkway, the small plants emerging in mygarden, and any other surface it could find.

I guess this reallygot my hopes up, because I ran to put out two buckets and collect what water Icould. However, in just a few stop and start cycles the rain was finishedwithin twenty minutes. It was like the sky couldn’t stand the heat any longereither and wanted to give us a few minutes of cloud cover and a cool ground—evenif just briefly.

At night, the cloudscame back, and again I hoped for the rain. I didn’t want to go to sleep in caseit did pour, but was also delighted that I could sleep without sweating orusing my fan. Instead of more rain, we got some of the most intense winds we’veseen in a long while. Lightning also came with it and lots of cool air.

While the rain wasn’tmuch, I was definitely content with all of this change in the weather. However,a piece of my heart still longed for more. I’d been waiting for the sky torupture with water, and all we’d gotten was a tease. When I checked my twobuckets, I didn’t even have enough water to fill an 8 oz. glass between the twoof them.

The next morning,there were clouds in the sky again, but only the thin, wispy ones like before. Around3 p.m., as the sun began to change positions though, more of the big gray cloudscame back from what seemed like out of nowhere. Again, it rained like the day before, butmaybe just a tad bit harder and a tad bit longer. This time, I decided to getout of the house to fully enjoy it. I walked in the rain to buy bananas,oranges, and then visited a group of weavers.

Once I got home, Idecided this was an occasion to celebrate. I knew I’d have another chilly nightto sleep and for that I made soup. It may be a long while before I’ll get to enjoysoup again, so I threw together the best Minestrone I could make. I alsodecided to soak up the cool air by relaxing on my rooftop and take a look atthe sky which had made my day.

Apparently, it wasn’tdone yet. There were groups of gray clouds off in the distance and theygradually moved closer and closer in. This time they were darker and morefierce than before and lightning was already brewing inside them. I didn’t wantto get my hopes up and told myself that even without rain, another chilly nightlike yesterday would still keep me content. I stayed to watch the clouds moveuntil the sun set and the beginning stages of darkness had taken over.

Again, I didn’t get myhopes up, but got exactly my wish. The sky unleashed all that it had beenholding back and water poured for almost an hour. The lightning, darkness andwind added to the moment. The rain was so loud I could barely hear thingsoutside that were normally clear. I live surrounded by the loudspeakers of fivemosques, but that day the calls to prayer were faint. Normally, I couldn’t drownout the sound if I tried—and I havetried.

Behind my house, thegrinding mill I have instead of a neighbor only seemed like a light hum. WhereI could normally hear people talking outside my concrete walls was now silent.Not the boys sitting in the street, not any of my neighbors… no one.

The rain continued topour all night, adding water to my garden and compost, but most of all adding abigger smile on my face. I woke up the next morning to find it still continuingand my buckets now overflowing.

The sad part is, Iknow like the grand display rainy season had when it ended, this is probablythe ending of Harmattan (windy season). The next two to three months ahead willbe the dreaded hot season. I can’t say I wouldn’t love to have another rainyday, but even if it doesn’t come before it’s due, I’ll still be one happy girl.

Like most Volunteers, I often find myself missing things from America that aren't available in Togo. It's so easy to think about foods, living conditions, and lifestyle differences we miss, that I sometimes forget there are benefits of living in Togo too.

One example is being able to hire help around the house. PCV's pay for people to dust, sweep, clean, cook, do laundry, get water, or help with gardening. Until recently, I avoided this because handling it alone wasn't too bad.

However, when only a week remained before a PC training, I found myself with a full schedule until then and basically no clothes to wear. Partly because of time constraints, laziness, and personal inefficiency, I decided to go ahead and get a laundry lady. Up until that point, I'd been doing laundry for myself, but was gradually finding that my clothes never got as clean as they were originally.

Fortunately, I had someone in mind for the job. One local laundry lady offered to wash my clothes when I first came, but I’d always refused. Last week, I decided to take her up on that offer. There was one big obstacle though… she only speaks the local language, Kotokoli. When I finally tracked her down just two days before my training, our conversation ended up being more through gestures than words.

I tried to through in bits of the local language I knew and thought were applicable. “Tomorrow morning. Work? Me. House.” I said, making motions to myself and then in the direction of my home. She offered an alternative, along with lots of other things I didn't understand. “No, after tomorrow morning.” I would already be gone, so I kept insisting, “Eye-yo, cherreh terreh.” “Je vais partir apres demain.” No. Tomorrow morning. I leave after tomorrow. I said , switching back to French. She responded with things way over my local language vocabulary, and sensing my confusing called someone nearby to come “speak French to her” as she put it.

The translator explained to me that she had some things to do the following day, but was available in two days. I explained to him my dilemma was that I needed the laundry done the next day, because I'd be leaving early the day after that. They went back to explaining this to her in Kotokoli, and got the lady to understand and she agreed to come to my house the following morning. We agreed on 7 a.m., but I wasn’t sure if that would mean real-time or with a hour or two delay because of the l’huere Africane.

To my surprise, the lady came the next morning knocking on my door at 6:30. I would have normally already been up at this time, but stayed up late the night before. The weather has been moving toward hot season, so I’ve been finding my house more and more uncomfortable to sleep at night. Instead getting to bed immediately, I decided to work on a few documents with my computer until I bored myself to sleep. With that, and a few splashes of cold water, I was off to bed by around 10:30 or 11:00 p.m.

It took me a few seconds to hop out of bed and throw on the only pair of clothes I intentionally kept out of the laundry pile before greeting the woman at the door. We took care of the normal salutations in Kotokoli, and then she got to work. “Good morning. How’d you sleep? How are the kids? And the house? And the work? And the activities? And the walk?”

I handed her my entire clothing collection, and she let out a gasp of surprise. Then, she explained again in Kotokoli that’d she’d be more available the next day. In one word phrases, I tried to reiterate that I wouldn’t be home, so she started filling my buckets with water.

Washing clothes is usually done with a three bucket system. This requires arranging the buckets in the order of: 1. Soapy, 2. Less soapy, and 3. No soap. As the first bucket becomes too dirty to use, that water is disposed of (thrown on the ground, used for gardens, flushing toilets, or otherwise). Then, the remaining two buckets move up accordingly and a new “no soap” bucket is added. This process is repeated until all the clothes are done.

I stood to watch as she started rubbing a bar soap on my purple clothes, and thrashed them in the first bucket to the second, last, before hanging them to dry. She then moved on the the blues, oranges and methodically continued making her way through all of my colors of clothing. Arranging them by color helps avoiding dye stains when the local fabrics run. However, rather than seeing buckets filled with dyed water, today all I saw was the brown Harmattan dust running off my clothes.

I had given this lady every piece of clothing I own, minus a few socks and underwear. This was the largest amount of laundry I’d done (or had done in this case) at my house, and I thought I was severely underequipped for drying them all. I now only have one sturdy metal clothesline because my second nylon string was literally falling apart from the weather. Somehow, she made all the laundry fit anyway, by piling some on top of others, then went to placing them over the concrete walls surrounding my house.

At the end of the three hour job, she only asked for a pair of my flip flops, which I graciously offered along with 2,000 fCFA (a total value of less than $5 with the $.50 flip flops). Equipped with clothes to wear, I headed off the next morning to a four-day PC training.

-Readpart one in the previous post.

Themost American way I celebrated Christmas was by attending church inthe morning. The 7 a.m. service followed the l'huereAfricaneby starting closer to 7:45. I'd been informed that this would be Massbut not being Catholic, having this information didn't actually giveme insight on what to expect.

I sat on the back of the women and children's side of the almostfully gender segregated church. While I didn't agree with thisseparation, I didn't mind my position too much. It was a nice changeto be surrounded by women than during my usual working days filledwith meetings almost solely consisting of men.

When the service began, I was hardly reminded of my place, andinstead found myself quite entertained. I always heard Catholicchurches in the States were very formal, but this one was hardly likethat. The choir was my favorite part, because they put the Africantouch to all of their songs. Some I didn't know, but my favorite wasone I did, Gloria. It reminded me of cross-over classicalmusic I'd listened to before. The tune was carried without a piano,nor hymnals; just their voices, drums, and a tambourine.

Themoments in between songs weren't always as interesting, and thingssometimes got boring to be honest. Between the extensive locallanguage translations, and odd (but maybe normal) rituals, I foundmyself sometimes rather tired and confused. Even by 10 a.m., theservice was still in full swing, so I decided to leave in order tostart getting ready for my next encounter with Papa Noël.

We met at an outdoor space next to the market called the CulturalCenter. The open space has a built in concrete stage, but everythingelse is a bring-it-yourself type of deal. So, the radio brought overall their equipment which includes large, heavy speakers and aboutfifty rented plastic patio chairs. These chairs are called for duringspecial events in my city, though really fancy events might havewooden ones too.

Oncethe children trickled in, accompanied by their mothers (no fatherspresent), the event started. As to be expected, the event time wasscheduled for 3:30 p.m., which really meant 4:30 p.m. I tried to keepmy Christmas spirit up, and found it wasn't hard to do with so manycute children. Throughout the event, they were called upon to playmusical chairs, a racing game which involved filling a water bottle,and recited poems to the audience. After about two hours, Papa Noëldistributed his gifts of stuffed animals to them, and the night wasfinished. I then went home to prepare myself a yummy, but veryun-Christmasy meal of Minestrone soup and meatless stuffing. Following Christmas day, I got back to work with an anti-AIDS club.The high school students plan to educate their peers about HIV/AIDS,and we'd just recently learned that a request I sent in for 2,000condoms had gotten approved. Before I thought the members were readyto go out and inform their peers, I organized a training of trainerswith them.

Not being a health PCV, I was putting myself into some unknownterritory. On top of that, I'd just barely brushed myself up onHIV/AIDS by looking at a PC manual that included information abouttrainings like this, along with the CHAP Volunteers' (CommunityHealth and AIDS Prevention) toolkit. Tomy pleasant surprise, when I arrived about ten minutes early, afew students had already started showing up. After the first fourthough, the rest started took their time until about 8 a.m. which iswhen we got things started.

During our lastmeeting, the group decided they wanted to cover: HIV/AIDS preventionwith a condom demonstration, modes of transmission, anddiscrimination/stigmatization. Then, they'd separated into groupsaccording to these topics. I'd given each group a few pages ofinformation to read it and be ready to present about their topic.

When I startedwith the HIV/AIDS prevention group, it was clear that they hadn'tread over their information and were a bit too shy to present. So, Itook this as a hint that we needed to do a bit of an ice-breaker. Onthe spot, I wrote down and handed each person a fact or myth aboutHIV/AIDS. Then, I had them pick whether they though it was true orfalse, and explain why.

A few timesduring the game, I had to stop the group from discussing the correctanswer, but things went better than I expected. Most of the studentsgot the questions right, and I think that prepared their confidencefor their group presentations.

After the game,each group got up to present their topics. I corrected or made as fewadditions as possible, but once or twice had to intervene to help orbetter explain some of the sessions. I tried to make sure everyoneunderstood all the material before moving on to other things as well.Once they were comfortable, I really enjoyed watching them give thepresentations. Some of them were very enthusiastic and got into themby using personal examples. The audience also did a great job ofkeeping attention when it wasn't their turn, and asking some greatquestions. I personally learned a lot from them about the culturehere,and got to know the students.

At the end of the session, I had each person write down eithersomething they'd learned, or ask a question. To my surprise, themajority asked questions, many of which I will have to do someresearch on. So, overall, I'd say the training was a success. Thereare still some things I'll have to improve upon, and definitely moreplanning ahead, but this has been one of the most interesting andinspirational things I've done so far.

I'm definitely looking forward to seeing what type of work 2012brings!

Without snow,Christmas carols, or decorated street lights, I was a bit shockedwhen Christmas day arrived. I can't say I didn't see it coming, but Iwas still in slight disbelief all the same. Luckily, my local radiostation had been getting into the festive spirit (minus havingChristmas music) and decided to organize a Santa outing event.

Whatexactly is a Santa outing you ask? Mr. Claus, or Papa Noëlas he goes by locally, distributes candies to children in publicplaces. This might rile up suspicion back in the States,but was completely normal, and even welcomed here. Papa Noëlmade his tour spreading the Christmas cheer throughout the city andended in the busy Saturday market madness. I guess that's one thingalmost like Christmas in the States—crowded shopping. However,market is like this every Saturday for me though, whether or not ithappens to be Christmas eve. Papa Noëlmade his rounds to different vendors in the market dressed for theholiday from head to toe. He wore a typical triangle shaped Christmashat with a round ball on top, a plastic Santa face mask with rosy redcheeks, a thin and stringy white beard, a Santa jacket stuffed with asmall but round belly, and slightly off-red colored women's pants. Hemight be seen as an emaciated Santa imposter by US standards, but thekids and adults alike loved it here. He often had to slyly creep awayfrom the flocks of people that came with outstretched palms wantinga candy to be placed inside them. Within about thirty minutes, Papa Noëlhanded out all his candy and finished the tour for the day. Ofcourse, he'd be back the next day (Christmas) for a gift give awaytoo.

So, after that interesting adventure, I headed off for the next. Anearby village holds a cross-dressing event to celebrate the holiday,which is something I didn't want to miss. I wasn't entirely sure ofwhat to expect (can you ever?), but because I'd received a typed andtime-specific invitation a few days before, I knew it must be seriousbusiness.

Theinvitation indicated that the events would begin in the morning andcontinue until night fall. I was most interested in the dancingparts, which were scheduled to start by 2:30 p.m., so I planned tolook for a car at 2 p.m., take the twenty minute trip and arrivebefore 3:00 p.m. Even with some of the most planned events, thingsusually still happen on the l'huereAfricane(African time), which means a delay of an hour or more. As luck would have it, the event made finding a car to the villageeasy, and within just a few minutes we were ready to go.

Just as wewere ready to leave with the car full by American standards (fivepeople inside), the driver added two more to the front, one to theback, and packed someone in the trunk for a total of nine peopleinside. Though this type of packing does exist and is normal in someareas, I've never experienced it before in my city. If I'm in theright mood, I'll protest when the car is loaded with a modest sevenpeople (three in the front, four in the back), so I definitely gavethe driver a piece of mind and got out this time. How dare he try tocharge the normal price of 75 cents for that?!

Thinkinganother car would be easy to find because of the event, I startedwalking in the direction of the village where it would be held.Luckily, I could get directly there from the routenationale,(one of the only paved roads and sole internationale one in Togo),which always has heavier traffic. I couldn't be more wrong that day.Yes, a few cars passed, but all were almost or just as full as theone I'd gotten out of. So, I decided to try my luck at walking thefive mile uphill distance, even though I was wearing simple sandals. On my way, two children joined me who were going to the event too.We made small talk, but were silent for most of the way. Even withoutmuch talking, it was nice just to have some company.

A few timespeople from my city on motorcycles stopped to offer me a ride. Therewould only be space enough for me and maybe one other child if weoverloaded, but I repeatedly chose to continue the walk with my newfound friends. As we got farther and farther I became more committedto the walk, and was looking forward to the finish....but alas, whenan air conditioned, clean, compact SUV with a free back seat offeredto give us a ride, we accepted. I'd met the driver once at the radio,and though I remember the day, I barely remember meeting him. Jumpinginto a car with a barely-known acquaintance is also a weird nuance ofthe States that's ignored here. That's typical Togo transportation.

Before the event, I didn't really think about it's scope, but evenso would have only anticipated a few hundred people or so coming.After all, it was held in a village of only 500. As we pulled intothe event space though, the normally empty land was packed withthousands of people. Later counts totaled the number of attendeesaround 5,000.

As promised, men were dressed in skimpy women's clothing and womenin men's. The most interesting was of course the men, who are some ofthe most buff, and masculine on another other day, now wearing highheels, tights, short skirts, fake breasts, wigs, and makeup. Manyalso carefully crafted their new do to leave space for beards andchest hair to poke through.

To my surprise, the event gathered what seemed to be almost fullparticipation. Virtually every man present was wearing what would beconsidered American drag clothing. Women participated as well, but ona smaller scale. Their clothing was usually limited to traditionalshirts and pants with painted mustaches or beards.

The cross-dressing groups were split into smaller huddlessurrounding a giant circle in the middle. I decided to circulate thesmall huddles first and caught a few glimpses of the dances. Theywere all basically the same, and the giant circle ended up beingwhere all the groups combined to form a giant rendition of the dance.Between waiting for a second car and mostly walking to the event, Imade around 3:30 or 4 p.m., which is also when things began dwindlingdown. I was surprised to run into a few Asians and Europeans at theevent, and met up with one of my Volunteer neighbors. We talked andwalked around for a bit before I went back home and called it anight.

This month hasbeen one of the most fête-filledsince I've been in Togo (the word fêteis used interchangeably for holiday or party, both of which areappropriate in this case). It started off with the Muslim holiday,Tabaski, during the first week. Then, the new PCV Swear-In and PCtrade show took place mid-month. And of course, the month finishedoff with the good old celebration of American Thanksgiving.

Before Tabaski,I'd only been present for one of the three major Muslim holidayshere. The first was celebrated by eating lots of food for the end ofthe Ramadan fast. Similar to this, Tabaski is also celebrated byeating, but specifically meats like cows, goats, lamb or sheep(depending on the budget of the family). Tabaski commemorates thefaithfulness of Abraham, who was commanded by God to kill his onlyson Isaac. Just a few moments before the sacrifice, God replacedIsaac with a ram. So, the Muslims in my town celebrate by eating ananimal representative of the ram that was slaughtered instead ofIsaac.

During mypost-visit week of training, the Volunteer I replaced told me therewould be blood running through the streets for this holiday. Being avegetarian, I was a bit concerned for my emotional health, andplanned to stay at home for most of the day. My homologue (localcounterpart) also planned a vegetarian celebration for me with a fewother people I work with in town. This celebration was held at alocal bar though, which meant I had to leave my house to go.

To my pleasantsurprise, I didn't encounter blood running in the streets, but I didwalk by a few small puddles and the sight of many slaughteredanimals. I also saw a lot of young boys and men huddling over holesin the ground, where they would deposit the animal innards.

For me, the worstpart were the days leading up to the holiday. In preparation for themeal, families began tying their future-meal animals outside theirhomes days before. Sometimes this was weeks in advance, if theywanted to buy cheap and fatten the animals up themselves. It was hardfor me to know that the animals, especially pretty cows, were simplywaiting to be killed. I'll admit, the thought of letting them go thenight before the holiday did cross my mind, but, I never acted onthis. Fortunately, this holiday was one short-lived, and I had agreat time at my vegetarian version.

Once the threedays of celebrating finished in town, I immediately got back to work.The second annual PC Togo trade show was less than two weeks away.So, my weavers and I spent the time touching up last minute details.The trade show was also timed to coincide with the new PCV Swear-In,which was great for sales. It was also a great double-motive for meto make the seven hour trip down to the capital, Lomé. ThoughI missed the Swear-In Ceremony because I was at the trade show, Imade it a point to attend the Swear-In party. Rather than for theparty itself, I came to check out the items being auctioned. Amongwhich, were: a guitar, lots of radios, yoga equipment, and knittingmaterials/how-to books. By the end of the night, I made a 2,000 fCFA(roughly $5) investment in the yoga and knitting materials and apocket sized day planner. This was definitely one of the best dealsI'd gotten from the almost 60,000 fCFA four day trip in Lomé.

Thetrade show also wrapped up pretty well for my weavers. They madeenough money to cover the costs of the trip, and came out with asmall profit. However, I think the most valuable part for them was tosee the work of other artisans. A lot of the things my weavers makeare dark, masculine colors and designs. There were four other weavergroups at the trade show though, two of which are comprised solely ofwomen. The women groups contrasted my all-male group with bright,lively colors. Thetarget for this trade show was a very western audience. Other thanPCV's, Embassy workers and tourists were the main clientele. Thismonth, my weavers will also be attending another trade show, whichis more Togolese/West-African focused. This one will be the joiningof two normally separate shows. One of which, called Togo 2000 isheld exclusively in Togo each year. The other, ECOWAS (EconomicCommunity of West African States) travels to a new West Africancountry each year. I'm really looking forward to this one to see whatthe international artisans bring, and see what sells to local buyers.

Beforepreparing my weaver group for the next trade show, I got to take asmall break to celebrate an American holiday. In Togo, PCV's plannedseveral separate get-togethers, and I chose to attend one centrallylocated. This dinner was probably one of the biggest among PCV'sin-country, and was meticulously planned. The menu was a mix of theThanksgiving classics: turkeys, green bean casserole, mashedpotatoes, stuffing, pasta, with both apple and pumpkin pie fordessert. Several PCV's had been planning all year for the meal andgot ingredients sent from the States (like canned pumpkins). The foodand PCV company were great, and everyone left at the end of the nightwith a full stomach. Many of us also ate the wonderful left-over piefor breakfast the next morning.

Onmy way back up to post from the Thanksgiving dinner, I also stoppedto visit one of my fellow stage-mates (from the same training group).I enjoyed seeing her post, and talk with her homologue, who was alsoan artisan at the trade show. He makes what is called batik.Basically, a white cloth is stamped with wax and then dyed withvarious colors. The part you stamped remains white, while the rest ofthe fabric becomes colored. It's kind of like a local version ofscreen-printing, because he can make any designs, pictures, or wordsby request. Her homologue has worked with my weavers through theVolunteer I replaced, and I hope to renew that partnership again. Healso offered to let me come custom make some things there, which isanother offer I want to take up.

ThoughI didn't get to have an authentic American Thanksgiving (with BlackFriday shopping included), November was much more interesting thanany other I've had in the U.S. I know December will be just asinteresting, with another trade show, Christmas, my birthday, and NewYear's coming up!

Wishingeveryone at home happy holidays!

Àla prochaineUntilnext time

After spending aweek away from my post at In Service Training (IST), I've come backwith lots of knowledge and inspired by the work of other PCVs. Ournine-week Pre-Service Training (PST) focused mainly on languageskills and the overview of our PCV life/work. IST provided asupplement to this with more specific, and in sometimes step-by-stepexamples and templates for project designs. Being at post for almostthree months also helped to better contextualize the information andcome prepared with questions. IST alsocoincides with the post-visit week of current PC trainees.

Each year,two sets of trainees (stages) come to Togo. After the first stage(which arrives in early June), the second comes in a few weeks later,around September. The work sectors for the second stage are GirlsEducation Empowerment or Environmental Action and Food Security. Twopeople from this stage will be posted near me, so I wanted to paythem a welcome visit before I left for IST. I only had enough time tovisit one personally, but I made and delivered brownies to both oftheir sites. They will be swearing-in to become official Volunteersin mid-November.

During IST I wasreminded of what life during stage was like. Our schedule wascarefully planned but this time coffee/tea breaks were scheduled in,and that made us all feel fancy. Rather than staying with hostfamilies though, IST was a college-type atmosphere. We foundourselves staying in dorm rooms and a small cafeteria-like diningarea for meals. Though I cook a lot for myself at post, it was greatto have someone do the cooking and wash the dishes for me. This wascompounded by the fact that they treated us with mostlyAmerican/Togolese meal mixes and used some of the yummy, though hardto find ingredients in Togo, like shredded cheese. A lot of the mealswere similar to what we'd been given during our first week incountry, but now—five months later—they tasted so much better.

I personally cameto IST hoping to learn more about working with artisans and howexactly PCVs plan for and conduct meetings here. By the end of theweek, I learned these things and so much more. A lot of our sessionswere led by PCVs themselves, who explained not only the successes,but things that didn't work, and how to avoid the same problems. Wewere also given a lot of digital resources which include thespecifics of projects including lesson plans, budgets, and hand-outsfor participants.

I'll be puttingthese things to practice almost immediately too. I entered a group ofweavers here into the PC trade show, which will be held during thesame time as the new stages' swearing-in ceremony. Until then, I'llbe working with the weavers to determine what selection ofproducts,colors and designs to bring. I also signed up to teach anICT course for the artisans, so I'll be working on that too withanother PCV.

Outside of workrelated things, I recently decided to undertake making a garden at myhouse. When I hired some help to “cut” the weeds growing in myyard, they informed me that there were several tomato and Gboma(local leafy green used in sauces) plants, mango seedlings, a lemontree, peanut and cashew plant there as well. I use the word “cut”loosely, because this actually turned out to be using a shovel toliterally reverse the ground. No cutting involved.

Since then, Ihave also planted a few onions and flowers with the help of a childthat randomly comes to visit me. However, all these plants are strewnthroughout in my lawn space, so I started working on a garden to keepthem more centrally located.

My idea wasoriginally to use a small 6' x 5' area, now that has grown to a spaceabout 20' x 10'. So far, I've only cleared the space and created theborders for the garden though. Soon, I'll begin making the rows andstart planting the seeds (some of which I will have to create a smallnursery for first). I'll be adding carrots, potatoes, lettuce, bellpeppers, cucumbers, corn, beans, and maybe strawberries to the mix aswell.

We'll see how it all works out though, because dry season juststarted. I'll definitely be doing some consulting with the newEnvironmental Action and Food Security Volunteer near me for tips andadvice. Next on my at-home project list will be a small, strawgazebo, but we'll see how it all works out!

Things at post have been busy, and I haven't been taking the time to write as much as I should. It was only when I finally started working on this blog post that I realized how much there is to recollect. However, the biggest portions of my time have been spent among three things: a soccer tournament, a club of students, and meeting potential work/project partners.

Twice a week—or three if a game gets canceled because of rain—I head to the soccer field for a match. The teams playing in the tournament come from the different sectors of the Chambre de Metiers. Comparable, though not the same thing as a Chamber of Commerce in the States, this serves as an organized body among common trades here. This means one game could be motorcycle drivers vs. masons and the next weavers vs. carpenters. Some other common trades in Togo that you'll find in the Chambre de Metiers include: tailors, hairdressers, and iron-workers. Though I think there are women in the Chambre de Metiers, this is an all-male tournament.

The tournament was already planned and organized before I arrived, so I've been mainly helping with logistical organization and fine-tuning small details. I also help with the accounting of each game. I was never the biggest sport fan in the States, but I enjoy going to the games because I get to meet a lot of people from the community at the same time.

In between games, I've been meeting with a club of students at least once a week. The club was started with the help of one NGO (Non-Governmental Organization) which works to broadly to protect the rights of children. Though I'm more of just a helpful bystander right now, I meet with the students and help develop their ideas or plan activities with them alongside the NGO.

This NGO has also started working on a campaign to reduce litter and promote respecting public property. One of the first things you'll notice scattered along the landscapes of cities here are plastic bags and other remnants of trash. Some people take this a step farther and will use public or private spaces, like the beach, as public restrooms. Without public trash cans/receptacles, nor public restrooms, combined with virtually no education against littering, people simply aren't motivated to take their trash home and burn it themselves. However, all the people I've talked to seem to understand that it's not aesthetically pleasing and creates health problems. So, in addition to working with the students, I plan to help working with the NGO for this campaign as well.

Outside of this NGO, I've been meeting with a few others in my city, as well as businesses, entrepreneurs, and any other groups or individuals that I can potentially help. Some are more formal than others, with an office or business space that I can visit. Other times, these meetings are held at their house or mine.

At each meeting, I try to get an idea of how they operate and what they do by asking questions, but I also try to see their work in progress. Sometimes though, people come to me with specific requests of ways I can help. It's great when these ideas are fully thought out, but a couple times this has boiled down to requests for funding. Though funding is not what I came here to do, it is possible. The funding I could apply for though is very limited with restrictions such as; detailed proposals explaining the project sustainability and a requirement of community contributions to the project as well.

Surprisingly though, I've found that the two things I've been ask to fund were some of these least thought through ideas. One was to teach school children about AIDS/HIV and to prevent early pregnancy—not at all a bad idea. However, for an idea that could be executed at little or no cost, I was presented with a budget of almost $2,000 and not at all sustainable.

The second proposal I received is a common request volunteers receive here in Togo—for a meeting room. Though I understand this could be helpful, I'm learning that a lot of people view new buildings like this as cure-all. For this project, I was presented with a budget over $12,000, or almost 7,000,000 fCFA, in local currency. In my opinion, if that much money were available for the community to use for something, I'd think they'd start with more pressing problems. I've attended several meetings just fine under the shade of trees. If, however, an enclosed space is absolutely necessary, there is already a formal meeting building available in my city. In addition, there are more modest options like school rooms, the market area, a small library, or an outdoor space normally used for dancing which groups can also use.

Ultimately, those project ideas will just have to remain ideas for the time being. I'm too early in my service to even be considered for funding a project. Instead of immediately getting to work, our first three months at post are to get to know our communities. These three months will then be followed by a week-long technical training. The idea is that we need to understand and fully asses the needs of our communities so we can create effective, long-term improvements. There are so many examples in Togo of “failed aid” from foreign organizations. Usually, this involves constructing things, or working on projects that can't be maintained once the organization leaves, or simply weren't what the community needed from the beginning.To help us get to know our sites and eventually our work, we have been assigned some homework for our first three months at post. In addition to writing a report, we will also be presenting our findings during our technical training session.

First, to help us get an idea of volunteer life in Togo, we are required to shadow another volunteer. After spending two nights with them, they spend two nights with us.I did my post visit shadow with a volunteer in my region, and it was great to see the similarities as well as the differences between our posts. So much of the nature and language at her post was close enough to seem teasingly familiar, just before I'd encounter something different. I was also glad to visit her site because she had been classified as a new post (there had been PCV's there, but several years ago). Being a replacement post myself, I was able to learn from her and see first hand some of the ups and downs of each. During my visit at her post, I also got to visit another volunteer nearby. This volunteers mom had come to visit from the States, so the village threw a big party to celebrate.

Another assignment we have for our first three months is to teach something to a group of people in our community. We can choose something fun, like to share a piece of American culture, but there are of course more advanced options as well. Depending on our group and its needs, we can choose to teach income generating activities (IGAs). Some recipes we've been given for IGA's in Togo range from making soaps and pomades, natural insecticides, to popcorn, jams, and the list goes on. So far, I've taught UNO and a few other card games to groups of children, but I've also set up meetings with a woman’s group to teach IGA's.

By far, the biggest and most detailed thing we have to do during these first three months is to gather some basic, yet comprehensive information about our community. We've been given about 100 questions with the topics of: general information; transportation and communication; markets, supplies and food; health and health facilities; small enterprise development; organizations and associations; and education, schools and apprenticeships. Though some questions require gathering facts or statistical information, others are more broad and ask for things like stories and narratives in the community. This is a new tool, so once we complete this information, in two years our replacement volunteers will only have to add/modify things.

Finally, one more thing we are supposed to do is a way to help us learn how the community sees itself. This way, we can work on projects which encourage participatory community action rather than working alone. Some of our options are to create a seasonal calendar, community map, daily activity schedule, or compile a needs assessment. We do this by facilitating an activity with a target group and discuss the findings with them. Fortunately, we've been given step-by-step instructions and ideas, so it shouldn't be too bad. I personally haven't started working on this yet, because I'm still in the process of thinking about which target groups I'd like to meet with to get the best information.

Aside from those activities, I've recently been informed about the PC Togo trade fair which will take place in November. It's organized by volunteers to showcase the products of artisans they work with. This will only be the second year for the event, but the weavers in my city participated in the first one last year. I've submitted an application for them to exhibit again, and if they are accepted, I'll start working with them on their booth, promotional information and product development. They currently make traditional clothing, hand bags, duffel bags, laptop cases, hats, and basically anything else by request. The volunteer before me worked with them a lot to expand their selection of products and also created a site for them: www.essovale.blogspot.com.

All in all, things have been going great here, despite the busy-ness lately. At the beginning, three months seemed so far away, and now I'm thinking it's coming too soon. I am looking forward to our training conference though, and seeing all of my fellow stage-mates. However, since we've Sworn-In, four people have already gone back to the States. Normally, there are a few people who ET (Early Termination) during stage, but our group make it through 100%, so I was also hoping we'd beat the odds and all make it the whole two years together.

Anyway, I've got no plans of leaving anytime soon, so I'll keep you updated with things here at least once a month! In the in between time, feel free to write me letters! They should only take between two to three weeks to get to me. I'd like to give a big thank you to Tiffany Henry, who sent me my first, and a very awesome care package. I now think I can last the two years without anything else and still be happy, but I'd love to hear from you via snail mail too!

It’s official. I am a Peace Corps Volunteer! This title also marks the beginning of my third month in Togo. It definitely feels like it has been a while since I got off the plane here, but the days between then and now are just a blur in my memory. Not to mention, looking ahead two years seems like light years away. So for now, let’s focus on the present… and the not so distant past. Two weeks ago was the official Swear-In Ceremony for my stage, or training group (French pronunciation = staghe). Everything went great, and once we each delivered a few sentences in local languages (one person delivered a lengthy opening speech in French), there was a small party. There were a few snacks, drinks, and a whole lot of dancing. Aside from the newly sworn-in volunteers and currently serving volunteers, our host families, technical and language trainers, and the Peace Corps office staff all attended the ceremony. Each of these groups made had been working throughout our training separately, so it was great to see them together. I was also surprised to learn that so many of our trainers had such great dance moves! Of course, I can’t forget the Togolese media sources that also came to film, take pictures, or record audio of the ceremony. That night and the next day, the ceremony was broadcast across the nation. Since then, several people have told me they saw me sur le tele at post. This is a great conversation starter, until they realize those few sentences are basically all I know in local language. However, I’ve also been able to utilize those opportunities to help expand my Katokoli vocabulary.After the Swear-In Ceremony and after party, there was an after-after party thrown by the volunteers. They organized the second party on the rooftop of a hotel, which was a great location. During the party, there was also a silent auction with the proceeds going toward one of the PC Togo committees. The items up for bid ranged from pudding, yoga supplies, pillows, a pair of Chaco shoes, an Obama poster, and dozens of other seemingly random odds and ends. However, all the things in the auction could have great utility for the life and well-being of volunteers here in Togo. I personally invested in the pudding, Italian seasoning, pack towel, pillow, and some money belts. One of the steal deal items of the night ended up being a portable internet USB key, which sold for about 25% of the retail value. I'd like to mention that I was barely outbidded for it during the last minute of the auction.Once the night of Swear-In was over, we prepared to depart for our posts at 6 a.m. the next morning. Just before we arrived at my city though, I realized I didn’t have the keys to my house. The volunteer I replaced found a house closer to the heart of the city, but it wasn’t quite ready during my post visit week. So, I left the keys with the closest volunteer to me with the hope that when I came back, everything would be moved over to the new house. However, the new house was still being cleaned, and I completely forgot to get the keys back when I saw the volunteer at the after-after party. So, I spent my first night at post in a hotel. Fortunately for me, one of the PC cars was traveling up the country the next day, so they stopped by to deliver me the keys. When I finally got into the old house, I spent a couple days packing everything. Afterward, I got to see how moving is done in Africa. With the help of my homologue and three other men, we piled everything into a small, 1980s model pickup truck. They got everything moved in only two trips, the second of which included all five of us along with the pile of furniture.I spent the next few days unpacking, sorting through, and organizing everything into the new house. One great thing about being a replacement post is that it’s much easier to set up a house, because everything is already there. However, there have been six consecutive volunteers at my post before me (none of which left early), so I had a lot to go through and lots of cobwebs to dust off. After a few days diligently organizing everything, all that remains are a few small stacks of paperwork with information about past projects. Aside from moving in, I’ve been learning what it’s really like to live on my own here. During stage, virtually everything was taken care of for us. The only chore I helped with was washing my dishes after meals, and I did my laundry just one time. After learning how much work it takes to hand wash clothes, I make sure to keep them clean and wear them several times to avoid it. Now, however, I have to take the time to find and buy the ingredients for each meal, prepare the meal, wash all the dishes by hand, and clean the kitchen. Let me remind you, I have no refrigerator for storage, and the only hot water I have is what I boil with my gas stovetop (just the stove top, no stove). At the same time though, I am learning that a few ingredients go a long way, and cooking is much easier than I thought it would be—aside from all the cleaning up afterward. It also makes me realize how much money I wasted on fast food back in the States.Fortunately… and unfortunately, I only have to cook two times per day, because I came back during Ramadan. This means, in my predominately Muslim city, most people are fasting during the day. They eat breakfast before the sun comes up at 5 a.m. and dinner once it goes down at 6:15 p.m. Though it’s not necessary for me to do the same, I try to, as a sign of respect. Luckily, there’s virtually no temptation to cheat, without the pre-made street food, and closed cafeterias during the day. It also makes my life a bit easier with one less meal to worry about. However, I only truly completed the fast for four or five days, because I’ve started waking up and eating breakfast later (between 6 and 7 a.m.). I also broke it a couple days by drinking water, which is excluded from the fast.This year, Ramadan will end August 30, and there will be a huge feast/party to celebrate. The timing for the fast is actually pretty nice this year, as with the lunar calendar, it varies a little from year to year. I couldn’t imagine coming here when Ramadan is in the middle of hot season.Other than fasting and settling into my house, I’ve been spending the past two weeks at post getting to know the city. I’ve been taking the time to revisit some of the organizations and businesses I was introduced to the last time I was here, and getting an overall sense of the community. A NGO director here also took me to see a few of the nearby villages. One new development since the last time I was here is the arrival of internet. My homologue purchased one of the portable modem USB keys last week, and might buy another soon to start an internet café. I only have to travel about 25 minutes to the regional capital, Kara, to use the internet, but it would be much more convenient to have it here. The internet would also really help with the overall development of the city and ease of information gathering.

After spending a week at post, we came back this week and hit the ground running. The running joke among the trainees is that this is finals week, because we’ve had a lot of tests and presentations. Most of the presentations were formal, or serious, like facilitating a session to teach how to conduct a SWOT analysis, or the concluding our business internships by presenting what we learned (all in French, of course). However, the last presentation was by far my favorite, because it was simple and fun. The only real requirement was to teach the rest of the trainees and our teachers something –anything—in French. I taught them a solitaire card game called clock, and the others taught Yoga, kickboxing, the Cha Cha, the moon slide, volley ball, cooking, and how to prepare for a triathlon. Afterward, one of our language instructors also taught us how to make peanut brittle. The amazing part is that she did it with just two ingredients—peanuts and sugar. I don’t know why I never knew/thought about this before, but sugar melts on its on without water or butter, just heat.Anyway, the best part of all the activities for me was that we were just having fun. Sure, we laugh and joke with each other all the time, but yesterday just seemed so carefree. It was the last real stressful thing we have to do other than our language test on Monday, and we were just genuinely enjoying our time together. Then, today we had another fun time to play in a basketball game with some people from the embassy. We took a half day trip to the capital to do it, which was really fun too. Honestly, the game is partially the reason our week was busy. We normally have classes Mon. – Fri. from 7:30-5:30, and sometimes on Saturday for either a full or half day as well. Instead of having class this week though, our activities from Saturday were dispersed throughout the rest of the week.Now, the last major thing we have to do is our final language test on Monday. I tested at intermediate low for our mid-term test, but I need to advance one more level to intermediate middle in order to become an official volunteer. However, my personal goal is to make it to intermediate high. Once I confirm that I’ve somewhat mastered French, I’ll be busy working on my introduction at the Swear-In Ceremony. It is a small greeting to say “Hello, my name is Lydia Grate or Assibi. I will be working in Bafilo to aid local businesses. Thank you!” However, it will all be in the local language of Bafilo, Katokoli. There is no written form for Katokoli, so I’ve been learning it by using the International Phonetic Alphabet, as well as three other trainees with posts in the same general area (Thank you Dr. Eshelman!). I know not all the readers of this blog have studied IPA, nor could I figure out how to type all the characters correctly with the time I have now, so I will attempt to write it as if the words were in English. “By-yah-mah seh Lydia Grate yah Assibi. Lah temera mah-zuh-nah key-ah-koh lan-dah be-deh key-ah kengney.” Believe me, hearing it spoken definitely makes you realize it is an entirely different language.Also In preparation for swear in, I am going to be get a new dress made. So far, I’ve gotten two dresses, two skirts, one complet (dress and skirt set), and one shirt made here. The cost of the fabric and getting it tailored for me is usually only about 3-5 USD each time. In addition to clothes, I’ve also gotten three satchel purse type bags made (one for me, and the others as presents for both my old and new host moms) for about 2 USD. I didn’t have such good luck with a pair of shoes I bought here though. They were only about 2 USD, but broke the same week. I’ve since gotten them repaired (another great thing about Togo, virtually anything can be repaired), but they are starting to wear away again, so I don’t know how much longer they will last. Anyway, that’s all I have time for today. I think the next time I will post again will be after Swear-In, and by then I will be an official volunteer. I will try to post pictures once I get to post too. A toute a l’huere!

Saturday’s have always been my favorite day of the week, but now I can confirm this with factual information. In Togo, birthdays are extremely important. During a normal greeting, it is not uncommon for someone to ask casually for your birthday, right along with “What is your name?” or “Where are you from?” Just to be clear, when they ask, they are requesting the actual day (of the week), not the date. The first time I was asked this question, I had to search for the day on my phone (which luckily has a ‘go to date’ feature on the calendar). Sure enough, I was born on a Saturday. In the local language here in Tsévié, that makes my name Ama. However, there are over 40 local languages in Togo, so this can vary from city to city. In Bafilo, where my post will be, I also had additional options to take a Muslim name, or a traditional African name. Of course, I could always opt to keep my American name, or create an entirely new identity for myself with whatever name I choose as well. Coincidentally though, not only was I born on Saturday, which is the market day in Bafilo, I arrived on a Saturday, and left the following Saturday. In the local language, Katokoli, Saturday translates to Assibi (pronounced Ah See Bee). So, I thought it was only right for me to take this as my local name. Additionally, because it simply means Saturday, there are no religious or racial ties to it, which I also like. I will be the neutral Assibi. After selecting my name, I became slightly more prepared to meet the community, and that I did. The first person I met was my official counterpart (homologue en Français), who accompanied me during the 8 hour trip from our training site in Tsévié to Bafilo. My counterpart, Moussa is an IT shop owner in the city. The shop is very quaint, about the size of a standard bathroom in the States, but contains an industrial size printer/scanner/copy machine, two computers, and a laptop workstation. There is no internet in the city yet, but the people from the community come to learn/work with computers, or simply to get things typed and printed. He also offers computer training courses, which a lot of the students take advantage of during their breaks from school. During the week I spent in Bafilo, Moussa took me around the town and introduced me to other entrepreneurs, businesses, NGO’s, the police, the Chef de Canton, schools, hospitals, the post office, and countless other need-to-know people. Though Bafilo is a mid-size city (population 10-15,000), it definitely has a small town appeal. During the first half of the week, I was accompanied by the volunteer I will be replacing. I stayed in his house, although when I return I will be moving to another one. I am very glad I had him there to show me the ropes, and after he left I also had the opportunity to develop my own perspective. It also gave me the opportunity to wander around a bit and see the scenery. The landscape in Bafilo is amazing! Though this seems odd, in so many ways it reminds me of Arkansas. The vegetation is different, but is everywhere. Also, the city rests on the foot of a few mountains, and sometimes I feel like I am back in the Russellville/Dardanelle area. There is also a waterfall really close to the city that I plan to visit when I come back. I’ve taken lots of photos, but I probably won’t be able to upload any of them until after I swear-in (Aug. 5). The first three months of my service are to provide time to integrate into the community. Therefore, I won’t start working on projects right away, but there are a lot of great potential partners there. In addition to working with my official counterpart, there are also several entrepreneurs (one being a Maringa and natural products vendor), a weavers group, radio station, several NGO’s (one for young women, another for handicapped people, and others), schools, and many saving and loan groups nearby (like a bank, these groups operate within communities to save money together and offer loans with interest. They can be as small as 10 people, or larger than 100). I’m really excited about the city, and getting things started in Bafilo. My post visit week was great, but now I have to get focused again, to get through our last two weeks of training!

So, today will be my first U.S. holiday in Togo. Happy 4th of July everyone! Fortunately, in observance of the holiday, we have the day off from classes. To celebrate, my fellow trainees and I have been planning an Independence Day party. We are having a potluck type set up, with mostly American foods, although there will also be Mexican, Asian and Togolese influences. But that is the best part about coming from a country that is nicknamed the melting pot, right? The main dish will be a roasted pig, and bean burgers for the vegetarians. We will also be making guacamole, salsa, tortillas, popcorn, stir fry, and others I am forgetting. I may try to make fried bananas (just to clarify, not plantains, bananas), which my host family makes here, and I love! During the party, we are of course going to play lots of American music, including the national anthem of course!Afterward, the rest of this week is going to be used to get ready for our post visit week (which begins on Saturday). We have so much in our schedule that we will not actually have a formal language class this week. I am a little disappointed by this though, because we had our mid-training language evaluation two days ago, and I want to find out what my new French class will be like (assuming that I have gotten better, of course). But, let me remind you, I am in a French speaking country; so I will definitely have plenty of opportunities to speak French, with or without it being scheduled. I may not get to post anything else this week, so I will try to make this serve as a good update. There are a few important things that I have not talked about previously, that I will now: the weather, food, and culture here.

Weather Right now, we are in the rainy season. However, it does not rain 24/7, but usually comes and goes in spurts every couple of days. When it does rain, it usually lasts an hour or less, but it can get pretty intense and windy. I really like it though, because the rain keeps it cool. I know I will definitely prefer this to hot season. Luckily; it stays a little cooler and less humid in the northern regions of the country, in comparison to the south (where we are now).

Food Pretty much everything I have eaten here has been great. All of the fruits and vegetables are super fresh, and GMO free. :) Therefore, most things are significantly smaller than they would be in the US. The only exceptions I have seen so far are the mangoes and yams, which are just bigger because the climate is ripe for them (pun intended). Overall, I actually eat better here than I did in the states. My daily breakfast here includes: bread, citrus-type tea, and fresh squeezed orange juice. I always get peanut butter and usually laughing cow cheese for the bread, sugar and powdered milk for the tea, and Lipton tea bags as well in case I want black tea. Did I mention the fresh squeezed orange juice? When I say fresh squeezed, I mean freshly squeezed from real, non-genetically modified oranges, just before it is given to me. Oh, and all of this is served to me on a platter with images of President Obama and his family on it. If you did not already know, the Africans love Obama. You can literally buy anything you want with his name or face on it. Other than breakfast, my lunches and dinners vary from day to day, but always include some carb for the main dish. Usually, rice, couscous, pasta, or other noodles. In addition; I always get fresh vegetables like black eyed peas, green peas, tomatoes, onions; carrots, avocados, bell peppers, or some combination thereof in an awesome Togolese sauce. My favourite dish so far though, has been the fried bananas. When I first had them, I asked my family if they eat fried okra too, which is another abundant vegetable here. However, they had never heard of such a thing, so I made it for them Saturday, and they loved it. Now, I am in charge of making an American meal every Saturday for them (and I am definitely open to suggestions).

Culture (I am running short on time, so this section may reflect that. However; it will definitely be continued!)I have not really gotten to experience a whole lot of Togolese culture, outside of observations and with my host family. From what I have seen though, is that the Togolese are very nice, quiet, and very clean. Every day as I walk to the Peace Corps office here, I am greeted by pretty much everyone I pass by. In addition, you can always find them cleaning, sweeping, or washing something constantly. After I get to post, I will probably have much more to say. Until then, à bientot!

Bonjour mes amis!

I finally got around to a computer to post a new entry! I know it has been a while, so I will try to do a brief, yet comprehensive summary of the past few weeks...at least the highlights.

First, I think it is important that you know, my computer was stolen a couple weeks ago. However, I must say that this seems to be a pretty isolated incident. Basically, someone cut the mesh screen (for mosquitos) off my window and took it off my desk. Though I do not suspect my host family, for my safety, the PC moved to another host family. No worries though! All is well, and my sister will be getting me another one soon.

Other than that, here is what I have been up to lately.

Last Friday, a day later than expected, all of the PCTs were told our post info. I will be placed at a city called Bafilo, which is located in the north east of Togo. Bafilo is fairly close to the border of Benin. Though I will not really know exactly what I will be doing until I get there, I have a broad overview of the projects the current volunteer is doing there now. He currently has a radio show which he uses to broadcast information about maringa (maringa has been called the miracle plant, because of its vast benefits. I suggest you look up more information about it). In addition, I will get to work with entrepreneurs, including weavers and an IT shop owner. There are also several schools in the area I might work with. Beginning next Saturday, we will have a week to visit our posts and find out more info about them, so I will definitely know more then.

While that was one of the things I really enjoyed this week, we also had the opportunity to talk with the Ambassador of Togo. She came to talk about the political situation in Togo, but we also got to ask her a lot of questions afterward. We also used it as an opportunity to get some current events info. Since we have been here, I have had virtually no access to worldwide news. My host family has a TV, but I have not watched it. Anyway, the Ambassador was really nice, and very honest, which I really appreciate. She even told us that we can come over to her house to swim in her pool anytime we want (an offer many volunteers take advantage of in Togo). However, she is retiring soon, so I wonder if that offer will still be available with her successor.

Other than those things, we have been busy learning about our bikes, Togolese culture, health, and of course, Francais! We usually spend 20 hours/week learning French, and I did not realize this until now, but that adds up to about 160 hours in our 8 weeks. When compared with a 4 hour French class for one 17 week semester, that is only about 70 hours. In addition to French, we just started learning our local languages. There are over 40 in Togo, but in Bafilo, the locals speak Tem in addition to French. If you are curious, hello sounds something like "Ba Vinny Kah Zoh" and usually proceeded by questions like "how is your family? Are you patient? or How are the children?" before the greeting is complete.

In the midst of all this training, we are doing something similar to an internship. In pairs, all of us work with a business or entrepreneur as a consultant. At the end of training, we will have to present to them suggestions for improvements...en Francais. We meet with them once a week to gather info. My group was assigned a menuisier (carpenter), and the others are working with a photographer, seamstress, and hairdresser.

Well, that is all I have time for now, but I am ailing to post updates weekly. We will see how that works out, but until next time!

Au Revoir!

One day in Togo. I made it! So far, everything seems great, yet surreal in some ways. It's hard for me to believe I'm in Africa. In some ways, it almost feels like an unsual place I've never been to in the US. We when arrived, we were greeted at the airport by three current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs) and some staff from the PC office here in Togo. We didn't actually get to see the entire airport, but were instead shuttled to a "VIP" lounge. The PC staff told us that only dignitaries to the country and PCVs get to see that space. It was comparable to a large lounge in the US, with couches, tables, and even flat screen TVs.

After spending about an hour or so at the airport getting our luggage, we were then driven to a hotel called Ravita. There, we met some more Peace Corps staff and ate dinner. This dinner resembled American pizza, french fries, and some other meat on sticks (obviously, I didn't eat any meat, but I'm pretty sure it was chicken and beef). I ate the pizza and french fries. The pizza was just traditional tomato sauce with olives and a few pieces had sausage. The french fries were actually made with local yams (yellow in color, not orange like the states). Both were pretty tasty.

Once we ate dinner, some of the volunteers were taken to an additional hotel, called Gallieon (there were only seven rooms at Ravita). Fortunately, I was one of the lucky ones that got a room downstairs at Ravita. Ravita is actually pretty nice. My room has its own bathroom, closet/storage space, two tables (one with a smallTV), an end table, and a full size bed (equipped with a mosquito net).

Each PCT (Peace Corps Trainee) day begins at 7 a.m. with breakfast, and lasts until about 5 or 6 p.m. After breakfast, we walk to the Peace Corps office, which is less than a quarter of a mile away. So far, the weather is cool, but humid, so the walk hasn't been bad at all. However, today was actually cooler than last night. It was actually a bit chilly and windy. The roads are sandy and dusty, but our route to the office takes us past local houses, and we see many Togolese outside their homes working. Some sell food, craft/textile type items, and some just sit.

Our sessions so far have been about safety, security, and health (which includes shots each day until Wednesday). Even though we are busy learning about procedures for the Peace Corps Togo, all trainees spend pretty much all of our day together. So, in those brief few hours, minutes, or moments of downtime, we talk! It's interesting that we know some much, yet so little about each other.

In the same way, I know this post has covered a lot, yet so little, so if you have any questions, please feel free to comment, or e-mail me about them!

I arrived in Philadelphia today around 11:30 a.m. for my pre-service orientation, which was great! During orientation, I really got to know a lot of my fellow volunteers. They all seem pretty open, friendly, and just plain cool. In total, there are 23 of us, with 13 serving in Community Health and Aids Prevention (CHAP), and the other 10 in Small Enterprise Development program. Today has also been an eye-opening experience, because I've realized how many of them have the same fears, aspirations, and goals that I do.

After we finished orientation around 7 p.m., we went out for a group dinner at TGI Fridays, which was a great way to get to know everyone even better. Although I've always been excited to leave, after today, I'm even more excited about going to Togo. It's great to know that the volunteers are people I can trust, and develop great relationships with.

It also makes me realize how fast this year... well, the past four years have gone by so quickly. Even though there were plenty of days I thought to myself is this ever going to end? I'm still in a little bit of shock to know that I'm finally done with school, and that I'll be leaving for Africa tomorrow.

However, I couldn't have gotten this far without so many of you! Special thanks go to everyone that has given me fabulous going away gifts for my time in Togo, including (in no particular order): Dr. Linda Bean,The Chamber Staff, Dr. Hanna Norton, Bethany Lacy, Tiffany Henry, Julia Bernard, Danette Veazey, Jenn Terrell, Cass Capen-Housely, Yousra Zerhouni, my sister and aunt Pennie! As most of you know, my last few weeks were filled with so many tears. Luckily, they were happy, thankful, appreciative tears. Thank you!

Oh, and if you're wondering about my packing situation, I ended up arriving with only 67 lbs. of checked luggage. I took some advice from Dr. Norton and unloaded all my bags to sort through my stuff and only take half of what I had. Although I didn't get that much less, I got rid of about 25% of the items in my bags the night before I left.

Well, that's enough for today, I'll post again once I get to Togo (about 1:05 p.m. "Arkansas Time"). In case you're curious, my basic itnerary is will be (in local times):

Wednesday

9:15 a.m. - Get Yellow Fever Shot (I'll get about 6-7 more in Togo)

12 p.m. - Check out of Hotel

3 p.m. - Shuttle to the JFK airport in New York (about a 2.5 hour drive)

11:20 p.m. - Flight Departs for Paris (7 hour flight)

Thursday

1: 50 p.m. - Arive in Paris

6:05 p.m. - Arrive in Togo (6 hour flight)

Keep in mind, Togo is 5 hours ahead of CST.

It's hard for me to believe that the semester...college...is finally coming to a close. All that I have left is to turn in my final paper tomorrow. Even though I've finished all my final projects, tests, and assignments two days ago, I don't feel "done" yet. Somehow, the whole situation seems surreal. I've been preparing to feel empty...free, but I don't really feel much of anything. More in disbelief really.

Maybe it will all hit me after class tomorrow.