December and January were incredibly busy months. Some real projects picked up and I went home for Christmas and New Years! It is so strange to think that this year, 2012, will be the year that I leave Togo.

MALARIAACTION COMMITTEE!!

In Togo,about 50% of deaths of kids under 5 are caused by malaria. But, malaria eliminationhas not been one of the main goals of peace corps-Togo – until now! And, I’mreally excited to be part of the Malaria Action Committee (MAC). That statistic came from our first job ascommittee members- getting a survey from every volunteer in Togo and discussingthe data at a meeting/training. At the meeting,we also set up the goals, objectives, and action plans for our group anddiscussed how Togo can really get involved in eliminating malaria. Togo is sort of an ideal country for thisinitiative because it is so small- and there are so many Peace Corps volunteers(PCVs). I think if Peace Corps really getinvolved – and every volunteer gets involved- the malaria situation can improvesignificantly. Right now, we are workingon preparing and organizing small “projects-in-a-box” that can be done by everyPCV with minimal training, organizing our information on the healthcare systemshere, finding the means to media and PR stuff, and writing and preparing a newand improved survey. There is anotherblog site specifically for the Malaria Action Committee. It can be found at: Like I said, I’m super excited about this;it almost makes me wish I could stay in Togo longer ….but that’s what every PCVsays “first year is rough, second year is exciting and fun and projects startto work...”

CUTBACKS

One day, ata peace corps training center in Pagala, the country director called a meeting ofall volunteers who were present. Shebegan talking about the budget and how “changes” were going to be made. The somberness of her speech made me thinkthat she was announcing that Peace Corps would be pulling out of Togo. Luckily, that was not the case. Instead, she announced that the SED (SmallEnterprise Development) program was getting cut. This is a huge deal for Peace Corps Togo. Togo only has 4 programs: CHAP (health), SED(business), EAFS (environment/food security), and GEE (girls education). So if one program is cut, our populationdiminishes significantly. Instead ofhaving the 100-PCVs who were in country when I arrived, we will be having like80 or something. It changes the wholetraining schedule too- and villages – Which villages will continue to have aPCV and the tons more that will not get a PCV again.

PROMOHANDICAP

“Assaham”can always be seen at the truck station running around, making gestures, and oncein a while getting food or money from a passer-by or the local vendors or the mechanicsthat are familiar with him. He may bethe physically dirtiest kid you have ever seen – you can practically see thelayers upon layers of dirt and dust. Whenhe sees me, he always runs up to me, making noises through his smiling mouth,and holding his dust-covered hand out, anticipating our handshake. Last time, he had a bandage on his arm – Iwondered what happened- hoping it was maybe an accident and nothing doneintentionally by another. You can’t askhim what happened because he can’t hear what you’re saying. He’s one of the many hearing- and visually- impairedkids in Togo. Many families in Togo arepoor, and a child like may just be viewed as an extra burden, being unable togo to school or work or help around the house. This leads to many kids who are neglected and abandoned, who grow up incommunities where they are mocked and abused. Over ten years ago, a missionary who we’ll call Mr. T noticed this inthe villages around my town, and decided form a group dedicated to educatingand assisting these children. Along witha few others, Mr. T gathered some kids, found a room to rent, and beganteaching whatever could be taught. Sincethen, this group PromoHandicap has grown and is now a recognized organizationin my prefecture. The community helpsout once in a while- donating supplies or money, but recently, the debt hasgrown too much and they were kicked out of the rented room. Now, the children are in Mr. T’s ownhome. So, Alisha and I and thePromoHandicap group, are hoping to build a school and dormitory for thesekids. Over November, December, andJanuary, we fit tons of meetings into our packed schedules and most recentlybrought the project idea to our country director for feedback. She is completely on board- and we are reallyexcited because we are one step closer to making this idea a reality. I love this group. I think they are the most genuine andhardworking group I’ve met in Togo – and you can see the needs and what thisproject will do for the handicapped community- It’s such a good opportunity and– like MAC, almost makes me want to stay in Togo longer. We will plan to have the official proposalssubmitted at the end of February and then have the project online and receivingdonations ASAP after that. SOOOOO- ifyou – or anyone you know- is interested in helping this project succeed- let meknow! I cannot wait to see their facesin a couple months when we tell them the project can be done.

SCHOOLISSUES

Contrary tothe well-stated words of Notorious B.i.g. “mo money mo problems,” and theinferred theory of less money less problems, Togolese teachers and studentshave begun expressing their idea of less money = more problems. Strikes are common in Togo. A couple times since I’ve been here, thehospital has gone on strike because they have not been paid (by thegovernment). Teachers of primary, middle,and high schools have also gone on strike for the same reason: no salary. However, recently, school strikes (and nowriots) have real effects. A few monthsago, the teachers went on strike for a few days and then resumed. So, when my neighbor’s kids told me that theteachers were on strike again, I thought nothing of it. Until the strike continued and people beganspeaking of school being “finished”. Rumorwas: that if they don’t get paid, school will be done for the year. However, little by little, teachersreturned. And now, most teachers havedecided to go back and teach, even though rumor again has it that they stillaren’t being paid the full amount. Wewill see what happens; there are still people saying that it’s possible thatthey will go on strike again in February. In the same domain of education and unrest, in December, universitystudents marched and rioted in Kara and Lome. Usually, students receive a stipend/scholarship to attend school, whichis used to live, but lately the government stopped paying students. Hence: the riots. Students marched down the streets, blockingtraffic and yelling. Over the course ofa few days, the riots became violent, and universities were shut down and hasjust reopened last week not reopened since. I sort of have strong opinions about this whole situation, but I won’tpost them online- if you are interested and you know me, then ask.

AED UPDATES

“My babyjust had the results of the final test. She’s not sick; she’s not sick! She’s normal! It’s finished! God has given! Another round of drinks!” The bartender brought everyone another beeror soda. The staff of the HIV/AIDS grouphad gathered to celebrate my return from the US, the New Year 2012, and now,Pierrette, the president of the group was announcing that her daughter MarieReine was officially HIV-negative. Everyonecheered “A la santé!” and continueddrinking. I looked over at the newestmember of the group, Nazarine, who was born in October, and wondered about herstatus. Will we find out she isHIV-negative too? Or will she grow intoa young girl carrying the virus, eventually succumbing to AIDS…. There’s another young girl- about 11 yearsold – who has AIDS. I can’t stand tothink of Nazarine like that. The girl isskinny- incredibly-skin-and-bones-skinny. She walks very slowly like she is having trouble balancing herself onher skeleton body. She smiles sometimes;I think I’ve seen her smile twice – and I can’t and don’t want to pictureNazarine growing into an AIDS patient like her. Nazarine is the chubbiest, happiest baby I have ever seen. She is like a baby Santa Claus. (Which actually sounds sort of scary, somaybe erase that image from your mind)? She smiles a two-toothed smile, makes a lot of baby noises when you talkto her like she can actually understand, and laughs – like really laughs. It’s hilarious to watch; she opens her mouthwide so you can see the tips of the two front teeth that are just arriving,lifts her face up and back like the force of the laughter can’t keep her headin its normal position, and lets out this huge baby laugh. Then, if it’s an especially big laugh, shegets the hiccups, like her body was just shook by this earthquake laugh and nowis getting little hiccup aftershocks. Iusually end up cracking up too, and so does Clementine, her mother.

POPPY andQUI SAIT

While I wasgone, poppy and qui sait got into trouble. They killed more pintades (guinea fowl/like a chicken). The owner of the pintades luckily did notkill poppy and qui sait, but gave them a warning: a cut on their leg; a scar toremind them. So, I have been keeping thedogs cooped up. I know the only reasonpoppy is not dead yet is because I am white – the foreigner/ the VIP invillage. I just hope that Poppy will besafe until I leave and take him to the US.

ENGLISHCLUB

Although I’vebeen super busy, I was able to meet with some of the kids in the English Cluband was really proud of what they did over the strikes and their holiday break. While I was away on vacation, they hadmeetings about gender equality, the environment, and the importance of girl’seducation. They talked to the principalto get trashcans for the school- and they succeeded in getting cheap trashcansmade. They formed an “environmentalpolice” group who will monitor the trashcans, and make sure people usethem. I can’t believe they did allthat! On their own initiative! I’m so excited about that. Think: the school for the years and years andyears of being there, did not have trashcans and instead had piles of trashcovering the grounds. Now, my Englishclub kids have installed trashcans and they are actually working! Crazy.

HOME!!!!!!!!!

I honestlydon’t think I can succinctly write about how excited I was to go home andeverything that I did and everyone I saw and everyone I wished to see butcouldn’t. But, I did go home- for about2.5 or 3 weeks- and had the most amazing time. I was so happy and just felt “whole” being with my family again. Christmas was amazing, New Years was fun, andall the friends I was able to see were wonderful. I can’t believe everything that has changed-housesengagements babies careers! – and everything that is still the same – never failingfamily/friendships J

During the month of November, I stayed in Kante all of the time, except for a smallexcursion to Kara for Club Espoir, and was therefore able to be with the peopleI work with and my neighbors. There weresome exciting things, like the bat that was trapped in my house (again) and arat that somehow appeared in my bucket of water. But, besides those incidences, November wasjust a nice chill month.

JE CONNAISAND THE CHICKEN DANCEJe connais(I don’t know his name, but that is how it’s pronounced) is my neighbor’skid. He is two years old, likes todance, make weird faces, yell at animals, wear my shoes, and thankfully, nolonger likes to pee on my floor (this seemed to be a favorite pastime of hisuntil recently). Anyway, I havesuccessfully taught him the chicken dance. Now whenever I start humming the “nanananananana nanananananana nanananana na na na”, he begins dancing until he realizes that everyone is staring andlaughing at him. I have also taught himhow to do the “bump it” greeting (bump your fist with his) instead of shakinghands. In addition to using this “secrethandshake” to form a type of exclusive club for me and him, I also use the“bump it” greeting to avoid touching his hands and getting sick. (His hands are constantly covered in somethingwet, sticky, smelly, possibly stain-causing, and more than likely diarrhea-causing.) My next goal for this kid is to teach himEnglish. I speak to him in English, whichmy neighbors may see as a sign of my craziness, but I see it as individualmentoring and training at young age. Ialready taught his brother Maxime some phrases like “hello how are you I amfine…” and “you are silly” and “I just want to be loved” and “show me themoney!”

SOCCER CLUBThe girl’ssoccer club has been continuing every Saturday morning. The directrice of the middle school found anassistant coach for me. I have a lovehate relationship with him. He knows howto coach soccer, which I love (because not much remains from my memory ofplaying soccer in elementary school), but he is a martinet! He is so freaking strict andpunishment-oriented. I had(idealistically as always) envisioned the club to be an avenue for girls, whohave so many more responsibilities than boys and always work hard, just to havefun. I can tell some of the girls are“on my side” too. One time they werelaughing because they screwed up, and then the assistant coach yelled at themto stop laughing. According to him, soccermust not be fun, it must be about winning. I suppose that this battle of “Have fun” vs. “play to win” isuniversal. *sigh* oh well.

HANDICAP SCHOOLThere are manyblind and deaf people in my town. I say“many” because I know more people here than I’ve ever known –or have even seen-in the US. There is a Togolesemissionary named Tcheou who works with them, and has been working and teachingfor years and years. Some of the kids hetaught are now adults and continue to help out at the school when theycan. One is a blind guy who works aroundthe corner from my house. His name isMensa and he works at a water pump; people come to him if they want water. Women line up with buckets on their head andhe turns the water on, turning it off when the bucket is full and collectingthe coins that he will hand over to the pump owner. He makes 7000 FCFA (about $14.00) amonth. Anyway, it was through Mensa thatmy neighbor Alisha learned about the handicapped school. We visited the small school once. You need to walk along the national highwayfor about ¼ or ½ mile before turning off and following the winding rut-filledpath to the small room where they have classes. It’s about the size of a US laundry room or bathroom, and was full of 15kids. Most of them were deaf; the blindkids obviously have more trouble getting to the school, so often do not go. We started talking to Tcheou and listened tohis stories and ideas. How there are somany handicapped people all over the prefecture (county) who cannot go toschool and are often just abused in their own towns. How it would be great to have a bigger roomto teach more children. How it would begreat to have a dormitory so blind kids could stay, not worry about trying tofind the school along the national highway. How it would be great to have a garden or other income generating things,so the kids could learn how to make money and be self-sufficient. We talked a lot- and now we are planning/brainstormingideas of what we can do to help this group. It is seriously probably the best group I’ve worked with. Most groups, without fail, always seem tohave a hidden agenda of making money (which is not necessarily bad a bad hiddenagenda- but just annoying when you come here wanting to work with skills andteach healthy living and behavior- and not just give out money). But, regardless of whether giving out moneyis “good” or “bad”, it is just such a relief to meet a group of people who havedone so much work for themselves and their group without much outsideassistance. It means that they will continue-they’ve continued for that past 20 some years- and they’ll continue after. But one thing is certain- there is so muchpotential- any help would be well utilized and appreciated.

GIRLS CLUBSSo, I hadplanned to start a girls club, and a science club- but it is so difficultfinding a lot of interest in science among girls L ! So, now I have started multiple girls’ clubs- 3 to be exact- and amdetermined to somehow implement science in any way I can. I have this great super idealistic idea thatI can buy a cheap microscope in the US, bring it back, and then find out how toget the ingredients for agar plates, have the girls go get swipes fromdifferent surfaces around town, and then grow bacteria and see it under themicroscope. I have somehow convincedmyself that if girls are involved in this, they will start to likescience. But, for now, I have just beengetting things going. The three are alldifferent. You would not believe thatthe three group meetings started from the same plan. One group likes to sing- a lot. I am not a singing type of person. But, I suck it up for this group, and mostrecently taught them “We wish you a merry Christmas”. The other group, probably my favorite group,likes to play games outside- like active sporty games. They somehow understand the directions rightaway, whereas the singsong group is slow to catch on to sports. Then there is the last group. This group is best in the actual discussionsthat go on in the classroom- they seem to understand what I’m trying to get atwhereas the other two groups seem completely lost sometimes. I like them a lot too. I guess the only group I have trouble with isthe singsong group just because I feel like I am always pushing them to work,and must take breaks to sing songs- whereas the other groups don’t seem asdifficult to motivate. (Although maybeit is just me who is difficult to motivate when you throw singing into theprogram.)

ISMAELVISITMy boss,Ismael, comes and visits every volunteer a couple times a year. He is a great boss- it’s obvious that hecares about the volunteers and somehow understands the unique type ofdifficulties we have as Americans being in Togolese culture. So, his visits are always like a breath offresh air- I can get so bogged down, thinking about doing things and trying toget things to work and getting frustrated, and then being elated when things dowork – his visits put everything in perspective. For example, I love the hospital- I used togo there every single day. But, Istarted to notice that when I arrived at the hospital and began helping withthe work, someone would leave- a nurse, midwife, etc... Would disappear. I began put two and two together, andrealized they were leaving because I was doing their work. This is something I knew I didn’t want to do:take the place of someone else. So, Iscaled back my work at the hospital and now only go to say hi once in a while. After explaining this to Ismael, he said thatmany volunteers feel this way: that they take the place of someone else. And he said that this is not true. At the hospital, there is a ton of work todo; when I show up and someone leaves, they are probably just leaving to doanother job- more work that needs to be done. I was really happy to hear this, and am going to start returning to thehospital to work- I love the hospital; I think I just needed a reason to gothere. While he was here, we alsodiscussed the future of Kante, my town. It looks like, with Peace Corps budget cuts, many villages will begetting cut (regarding volunteer placement), and Kante might be one ofthem. I have mixed feelings aboutthis. Of course, I love my town, and Iwant the best for the people I work with, and more opportunities are available,or just more easily accessible, with a volunteer. But, knowing that Kante doesn’t need anothervolunteer makes it, in a way, a success story. Volunteers have been here since 2002, have helped start organizations,and worked with tons of individuals, promoting health and girls’ education, andconnecting people to opportunities they may never have had. Now, its time to leave – Kante is good. I suppose this sounds like a lot of blabber –but I think I am just preparing myself emotionally, for something I assumedwould never happen: that I won’t have a replacement.

CLUB ESPOIRClubEspoir, the monthly club for children infected or affected with HIV/AIDS isalways a fun experience. They playgames, talk, dance, sing, and eat a nutritious meal. With all the amusement going on, it’s easy toforget that these kids have been through much more than many people will everexperience and most would care to know about. But, once in a while, eyes are reopened. Something happens, someone makes a comment,someone shows up with a weird rash – or worst of all—someone doesn’t show upagain… Anyway, this past club wasfocused on time and money management. Mygroup, (who most volunteers refer to as the trouble maker group) was learningabout how you can save a little change every day in a tin can converted piggybank. But, some of the kids weren’t surehow they could even begin to find change. We started to ask questions around the room, trying to prompt them tothink of when and where they ever have spare change. It soon became clear that lots of kids hadchange in the morning to buy something to eat at school. But, we came to one girl who said she did notget money before school. We asked her whatshe does for food- does she eat before or at school? “Yes,” she said, “sometimes if there is cornmush that Papa didn’t eat the night before, we take the leftovers and split itin half. One half is for the dog toeat. The other half is for my sister andI to share.

THE BATRETURNSAbout ayear ago, a bat entered my house at night, causing me to run around and screamfor the neighbors, who henceforth guided it out the door. I thought it would never happen again- thatit was a once in a lifetime- experience, but apparently it was not. The bat-or his friend- returned. At night, my lights were on and the bat shotinto my room. A second later (afterrealizing what it was), I ran out and over to my neighbors door. Like last time, I did not remember the Frenchword for bat, so I flapped my arms like wings and said “There is a thing thatdoes this in my room!” My neighbors knewimmediately what I was talking about and all the kids ran over to watch. The oldest kid, Yassime grabbed my broom andstarted swinging at the bat. Soon hemade contact, and the defeated bat fell to my couch. The kids ran to see what it looked like andsee if it was big enough to eat, but after realizing it wasn’t big enough tocook and eat, they focused on playing with its wings and asking me to taketheir picture.

THANKSGIVINGTravislives in an incredibly small village. There is one primary school, one small store, and a tiny one-roomchurch. If kids graduate from primaryschool and want to go to middle school, they must walk the 7km to theneighboring town every day. A smallvillage, like everything, has is positives and negatives, but one positive isthat it doesn’t take a lot to have a party for the whole town. In a way, Travis did this for thanksgiving; heinvited about 30 people, hired a woman to cook a ton of food, and gave anyleftover food to whoever was not invited. Four of us volunteers were there, and after a lunch of fufu prepared bythe village’s midwife, we all waited until night. At dusk, students brought benches from schoolover to the clearing in the center of the village, and everyone gatheredaround. Travis made a speech, in thelimelight of the flashlight (his village has no electricity) and then the womenserved food and tchouk (the local beer). A few more speeches were made, and then peoplestarted to take turns telling jokes or stories. Nothing is better than observing Togolese story time- People get sooooointo the stories- both the storytellers and the audience. One guy continuously made comments, gasps ofsurprise, and laughed hysterically at the jokes. WE stayed in the darkness listening to thestories and drinking tchouk until most of the people left. It was such a wonderful- almost perfect-Thanksgiving. The only thing that couldhave been better was if we had eaten the racist turkey. Unfortunately, the other feast that we hadplanned for Thanksgiving was canceled, and the turkey was left to live. I think I will just pardon it.

POLIOVACCINATION CAMPAIGNFor years,people have been predicting the eradication of polio. And, although no new reported cases have beenfound in Togo in quite a few years, surrounding countries have had cases,meaning that there is still a threat. Themany handicapped people are also a reminder that Polio is not an eradicated andforgotten disease like it is in the US. So, there are polio vaccination campaigns in which Togolese are hired togo to regions of the country, vaccinating children in the large cities to themost remote villages. In addition, theWHO hires people to monitor the campaign, making sure that the vaccinators aredoing their job. I usually tag alongwith these monitors and “show them around”; strangely, I know the prefectureand the people better than they do. Thelast two polio vaccination campaigns were in April and May- during hotseason. This time, it took place in themini hot season, meaning it was still hot, but not ungodly hot like April. My prefecture seems to be one of the mostdisorganized, with only one paved road (the national highway) and many unpavedand/or undriveable paths linking villages. Some villages, because of the mountains, are more easily accessed fromBenin or other prefectures of Togo than from my prefecture capital. So, it’s always a challenge/adventure going house/hutto house/hut and asking if the vaccinators had arrived and done their job.

MALARIAACTION COMMITTEEMalaria isone of those diseases that are completely non-existent in the developed world,but a huge huge HUGE problem in parts of developing world. It’s the biggest killer in my prefecture andone of the biggest killers in all of sub-Saharan Africa. When you go into the pediatric wing of thehospital here, you walk into a big cement room with tons of beds separated bylittle cubicle-type walls. Sick kids arethere with their mothers, and if you walk through the cubicle aisles askingwhat this or that kid has, you will hear “palu,” the word for malaria, forprobably 8 out of every 10 kids. Butpeople have been used to living with it for so long that they often don’t seemto take it seriously. Almost everyoneknows sleeping under a mosquito net helps prevent malaria- but so many peoplechoose not to- because its hot (it actually really does make it hotter- Ididn’t believe it at first) or stuffy or because they cut up their mosquito netand use it for other purposes. Anyway,the Health domain of Peace Corps Togo is getting re-vamped with a new malariainitiative- and I get to be one of the coordinators! Yay! First, every volunteer is going to do a house to house (hut to hut)survey (leading to 50-70 houses) to try to get a real idea of what the mosquitonet situation is. (The malaria stats theTogo provides aren’t quite accurate). Anyway,this is just the start – and I’m excited to be one of the leaders in this groupand I will continue to talk about it as the month’s progress.

October was a time of change, which it always is-possibly the world over. Here, rainy season stops; I'm pretty sure I experienced the last rain until May. It's incredibly hot now- the mini hot season. School began - late this year and my travels settled down as clubs began and picked up. Although October itself involved more planning with groups than actually doing things, I'm incredibly excited about the plans, and will talk about them as they progress in future months. In brief, some of the plans include: a health and environmental club at lycee with hand-washing stations, an analysis of certain unhealthy behaviors to find the best way to direct change among students and women who cook/sell food, a "tour" of the prefecture (like a county) to talk about moringa (super food and tree), and a soccer tournament. So, hope your October was marvelous, because mine certainly was :)

THE AMERICAN BUSRIDE

Arguably, the best way to travel in Togo is by bus. Unlike bushtaxis, you have enough room and don’t need to stay in weird positions that are more reminiscent of advanced yoga than a casual roadtrip. And unlike motos, you do not need to hang on for dear life (literally) over the sudden bumps and holes that decorate the roads. So, I almost always sign up for a bus ticket if at all possible. The only negative aspects are the not uncommon bus breakdowns, broken windows, and the long wait. It was during one of these long waits for a bus that I heard people speaking English. Their western jeans, polo shirts, and hats, along with American language nuances like “Man, blah blah blah, man,” and “Hang on” led me to think that maybe they were famous Togolese music artists, who generally seem more Western to me than Togolese. My thoughts were interrupted by the crowd gathering at the bus entrance- boarding had begun. A woman read aloud the name and number of each ticket, and we individually boarded and took our assigned place. I was lucky this time; the bus was airconditioned, and I was seat #1, meaning I had a little table I could put things on. I had experienced a Togolese airconditioned bus only one time previously, but that bus had broken down for three hours in the early afternoon of a scorching day in hot season. Anyway, I boarded, sat down in my #1 seat, placed my water bottle on my table, and people-watched as the other passengers boarded. Soon everyone with a ticket had boarded, but the seat next to me was still empty. “This is nice,” I thought, “I get two seats!” But my excitement was short lived. No sooner had I thought this, than the Western-ish-Togolese –probably-musician guy sat down next to me. “Oh no,” I thought, “I hope he doesn’t talk a lot and try to get my phone number and address and call me constantly”, which is what sometimes happens when you’re a white girl in Togo sitting beside a younger guy who seems “cool” like a musician. He sat down, said “Bonjour,” and then that was it for awhile. “Oh good,” I thought, “I won’t have to worry about thinking of all the excuses not to give him my phone number.” But then he started speaking English – American English – to another Togolese. He turned to me and said, “Where are you going to?,” in French. I responded in French but I guess my accent gave it away. “Do you speak English?” he said. “Yes; I am American” “You’re American? I live in New Jersey!” “No way! Why are you in Togo?” Turns out, he was born and raised in Togo, went to the US nine years ago for college and is currently getting his Nursing degree. He had not returned to Togo since that morning. His father had just died and all the members of his family from all around the world were returning to a small village in northern Togo for the funeral. The whole ride up north we talked. He explained what he thought about development and Togo – it was strange hearing a Togolese speak with a Western perspective. He was saying how the schools are bad and the roads are awful and many other things that I will not mention in this blog. Every time we passed a car, almost hit a motorcycle, or killed a chicken trying to cross the road, he would flinch as if he himself was about to get hit. It made me realize how used to Togo I was- nothing caught my attention as being out of the ordinary, whereas everything caught his attention. Anyway, it was a very interesting bus ride. We exchanged contact info, just because it’s such a small world, and went our separate ways- me the American back to my normal life in Togo and him the Togolese to his weeklong visit to this unusual foreign land.

SOAP FIASCO

The members of AED-Kante, the local HIV/AIDS group I work with, have been making liquid soap and selling liquid soap. However, recently it has become more difficult to sell it; many people refuse to pay the price that we have chosen which would ensure we make a profit. So, AED has been thinking about making and selling solid soap. The problem is that someone knows how to make it, but she only knows how to make it in large quantities and we can’t buy the large quantities because it is too expensive. The members don’t want to contribute (a little bit contributed by each person could help buy supplies), so we are in a standstill. I personally think that if the members don’t want to contribute, then we should not try to make it- how sustainable would that be? 0.0 We will see- it’s good to have income generating activities, but pointless if no one wants to make the effort to try and get it going. I’m planning to see if there is another type of income generating activity that they may be more enthused about.

SKL-ta!!“N-Kriya!” “Alafia we ya” “Alafia. Ohway sartia” “Alafia” “N walo lo?” “Ma walo skl-ta.” Wal- n –kahn.” “yooo”. “Good morning! How are you? Fine how are you? Fine. Where are you going? I’m going to the school! Go and come back! Ok!” During the “summer” months, school was out of session, and summer was extended and finally- after waiting and waiting- school is back in session. So far I have been working with two schools. First, I am working at the CEG (middle school) where I am focusing on girls (this is the level of education where most girls drop out). I’m working with the librarian to lead a girls club. I’m really excited about this and made a tentative plan with the librarian about what we can do and talk about. The optimist that I am, I hope to create a supportive group of girls where we’ll talk about HIV/AIDS, nutrition, sexual health, hygiene, communication, peer pressure, the environment, gender roles and rights, and of course the importance of education. I’m hoping to incorporate little science experiments (like finding microbes from different things we touch) or studies (like really simple nutrition studies). Anyway, I know nothing will go according to plan, but I’m still super excited just to try.

UNIVERSITY HELP

Sortof on a whim, my dad suggested I write a letter to a local university in the US. I did, and after months of no response, I finally received a response from a very enthusiastic person and now we have this great collaboration. University kids will help put together an English curriculum for my English club, a personal finance guide in French for the HIV/AIDS patients and donate a bit of their fundraising to girls tuition. I’m so happy and excited to be working with them.

HEALTHY!!

So, for the past couple months, I have been completely healthy! I don’t know why actually- there is nothing that I am consciously doing differently (diet, handwashing, mosquito net, number of showers/day etc..) Actually, I thought that this rainy season would be more of a risky season, in terms of getting sick. This is just because there is more water which means more mosquitos (malaria and other mosquito-related diseases), more sewage getting in water and possibly in street food (giardia, amoebas, dysentery, other diarrhea stuff) etc… Anyway, usually that means more sickness. But, for me (knock on wood), I am illness-free!! Ironically, it was during this time where I received my official Level 10 Club T shirt. Short recap: level 10 is the level of pooping in which you poop your pants. This obviously indicates some type of illness (the “illness” being related to pooping your pants, not a *mental* illness that may possibly be inferred from the actions of forming a club and making tshirts to celebrate pooping your pants) See some of my first blog articles for more details. ……. (but …… as I am posting this – I have started to get 2 different rashes (1) the allergic reaction rash I get from eating mangos- even though I haven’t had mangos- I think I got it from being a mango tree for Halloween – the mango leaves touched my skin. (2) another rash around my neck and chest and arms that is like heat rash, but different. Maybe it’s a fungus. I will update you if it turns into something weird.)

THE ADVENTURES OF POPPY, QUI SAIT, and BUSTER (aka Grumpy)

Many of my past blogs have included stories about Poppy, my dog, Qui sait, my neighbor’s dog, and Buster (who I’ve begun referring to as Grumpy). Recently Poppy has taken to finding mud and rolling around in it like pig. He then will find me in town somehow and start whimpering. Everyone knows that he is my dog and everyone knows that he is a “bandit,” or troublemaker. So, whenever muddy Poppy shows up, everyone attempts to send him back home by throwing rocks at him. Sometimes this works, but usually I finally decide just to return home with Poppy in tow, lock him up on my terrace, and then return to whatever I was doing in town. After my work is finished, I come home to locked-up, miserable Poppy, and all the neighbors kids taunting him and prepare to wash him. With the kids, I get a bucket of water, soap, and start cleaning Poppy. This is a great effort; Poppy is not small (up to my thigh), and is strong. So usually, the act of washing Poppy turns into a riot with all the kids and wet dog running around, water and soap covering the floor and providing the perfect place to slip/slide/dance (like pippy longstockings), and Poppy providing free water-sprinkler service with his constant shaking off excess water. The much smaller Qui sait, who I believe is inherently smarter than Poppy, usually stands to the side, knowing that if he gets too close, he too will be washed/tortured. While all this is going on, Buster/Grumpy is nowhere to be seen. It is only when I enter the kitchen that his constant meow-ing announces his presence. I will give him whatever it is I’m eating or preparing to eat, and he will refuse it and continue meow-ing. Then, he will pee on the folded up sheets I have set up to use as a dogs’ bed. I think the only reason why I keep him is because I don’t want mice and lizards running around my house.

BYE BYE RAIN; HELLO DUST

So, Rainy season has been tapering off. I’ve wished that it would never end, and that it would rain every single day for the rest of my service, but I suppose it’s good to have variety. I will miss the blue-green fertile mountains surrounding Kante, and the mountains of the sky: the dark blue-grey storm cloud mountains. Soon, everything will turn to different shades of brown, including the sky, which will host the wind and sands from the Sahara. Then, bushfires will begin as people burn their fields in search of animals to eat, and you’ll be able to see the mountains around Kante will seem to hold these floating fires against the brown background of earth/sky.

NEW VOLUNTEERS and HALLOWEEN

New volunteers arrive in Togo twice a year. So, twice a year, new volunteers visit their future villages and all the older volunteers welcome then. This year that visit and welcome fell on Halloween weekend, so all the Kara volunteers –old and new- got together to have a Halloween party. Some people had costumes made, trying to explain to Togolese seamstresses and tailors what Halloween was and what they wanted their costume to be. Other people put together random things to make a costume that was somehow Togo-significant. I, as usual, decided at the last minute what my costume would be. There was a mango tree outside, and I had just learned how to wrap an African headwrap, so I cut some tree branches from a mango tree and attached it to a green headwrap and therefore became a tree. Even the new people were prepared with costumes, which was surprising, since they were new. It is weird that the next new volunteers to arrive in Togo will be here to replace me and my friends who arrived with me. SCIENCE FRIDAYEvery Friday is marche day. This is a day (every village and town has their day) when people come from all around to buy and sell whatever they can. Although its exciting and interesting to watch and experience, it can get pretty hectic and there are more outsiders (ppl not from Kante) who don’t know me and more drunk people, so I usually get stared at and yelled at more. So, if ever I feel like that will upset me (I’ve become really aware of my current state of mind and what aggravates me), I just stay away from the marche. This means that most Fridays, there is not much to do besides go to AED for HIV/AIDS patient consultations. So, I have begun a routine in which every Friday, I read and summarize a science article (I have luckily saved a lot of science articles onto my hard drive so I have enough material). Thus far, my favorite has been a review article about how gut microbes, nutrition, and immunology all interact and play a role in one’s health. One super example is fiber. You cannot digest fiber; only microbes in your gut can. So, when you eat fiber, the types of gut microbes that digest fiber multiply (so your gut microbiome changes overall). They digest the fiber to produce short-chain fatty acids, which are important for energy, but especially for your immune system! They also did these incredible experiments in which they first raised mice in a super clean and isolated environment, so that they were “germ free” and had no microbes at all. Then, they took a sample of microbes from the gut of an obese mouse, and a lean mouse, and put them in the germ-free mice. The mice that received the microbes from the obese mouse became fatter that the mice who received microbes from the lean mouse! It was specifically interesting because it referenced Peace Corps volunteers, saying that after having lived in poor (and often unsanitary) conditions, they often develop “environmental enteropathy,” which is just like chronic diarrhea and malabsorption, and they have found changes in the gut epithelium through biopsies. Anyway, I wish I could study my own gut.

WOMENS CONFERENCE

Last year was the first annual Women’s Conference in Togo. This year, there will be five Women’s Conferences. So, I applied and was selected to help with the Kara/Savannes conference! I’m super excited because I heard last years was wonderful. This year, women from all around the Kara and Savannes regions will come to Kara, stay for a week, learn all about health, money, women’s empowerment, etc etc, and just form a really great support network. This is really rare for women here. Usually men go to conferences and women always stay at home and do allllll the work. They also are the ones who care for family members and the sick, even though they often do not know how to care for the sick. And, they are the ones who can make a huge change in the health of family, just by incorporating good food preparation and handwashing techniques. Anyway, the point is: women are such a good group to work with and I’m super excited about being part of the Womens Conference.

MD/PHD or MD or PHD

Since June, I have been intensly thinking about what my next move in life will be (after Togo). I am not completely lost; I know I want to do medical research- and, although my interest might change- I would looove to do research involving the gut and nutrition and immunology. However, this may not change; I remember in an interview after my sophomore year of college, I told my interviewer that “I am in love with the digestive system”. That might be a little weird, but at least I know what I like. Anyway, fastforward to now and I am currently interviewing current students and professionals and MDs and PhDs and MDPhDs…. I have met a lot of people and learned a lot of things, but it all just boils down to a few basic facts. (1) an MD is tough, financially costly, and you should like working with patients, and although some MDs do research, it’s more difficult to get into research, and it is much more difficult now to attain a financially stable position (with high tuition fees and all the costs associated with being a doctor) (2) PhD is tough but paid for, and you should like research and science and the lab, it may take awhile and may or may not be incredibly difficult to graduate (depending on your mentor) and find a position (theres a debate about whether or not there is an “overpopulation” of PhDs in the field), it is also reliant on grant writing and constant funding-seeking (3) MD/PhD is tough, will take awhile, is paid for, you should like patients and lab, you should want to do research, may result in you just working as mainly MD or mainly PhD (which some ppl might use to conclude that dual degree is a waste of time), may be the only sure way to get to a tenured faculty position (according to some people..back to the PhD overpopulation debate), may be (debatably) the most secure choice for a research career because you have an MD over the regular PhDs, are associated with other MDPhDs (who are usually leaders in the field), and you have an MD to fall back on-and ppl always need doctors. All options take time (I’m thinking just under a decade, often not including residencies, fellowships, postdocs, etc..), make it difficult to have a family (but doesn’t any job?), and have been described as “you really need to want it, or you’ll drop out”. I just don’t know. When I think about MD, I just really love helping people (as much as I hate how cliché that is). When my Togolese friends-or any friends- talk to me about their medical problems, I want to understand what they have and help them. When there was an awful accident and all the bloody people were carried to the hospital, I really just wanted to help give them stitches and fix their broken bones and see what else is wrong. And just following the medical assistants aroung the hospital, I am always frustrated with my language (they speak Frenchy French as opposed to Togo French) and lack of medical knowledge. When I was in high school, my family witnessed a big car crash. I ran over with my dad (I had just taken a first aid/CPR class) but was so frustrated because I didn’t know what to do. I just heard the guy breathing and it sounded like he was gargling. So often I wish I was a doctor or nurse here. But, on the PhD side of things, I really like the lab and really miss the basic science research articles and discussions and the techniques used to find things- and just all the details and different factors that must be taken into account. It is simpler- like me- and even though the big problem is super complex, you can choose one simple little problem of the big problem and just focus your whole life on that little problem. And I like that. Plus, I really miss electrophoresis gels and microscopes and pipetting. Also, even though I’ve shadowed people and helped out in the hospital here, I think it might be really different in the US, and am not sure if I will like “clinical work” in the US. Then there’s the MD PhD route. But with that, it just takes a lot of time, and many people tell me you end up choosing either to work mainly as an MD or mainly as a PhD- so you still need to choose between the two- unless you’re super human and have no family. Which is a whole other debate. *Sigh*

August and September were packed with marathon preparations, a mid-service conference for all volunteers, a yam festival, and weeks in village. For most of these months, the indiana jones theme song played in my head, seeing as I was running.

YAM FESTIVAL

In south central Pennsylvania, there is an annual Apple Harvest Festival, complete with beauty pageants, games, and every type of apple food and drink you can imagine. Here in Togo, there is the Yam Fete, celebrating the annual harvest of yams, which are used to make fufu. This year, it took place in Bassar, a city in Western part of the Kara region, near the border with Ghana. Bassar is a gorgeous town surrounded by mountains, and seems to be a bit better-off than other towns, as evidenced by the main paved road lined with sidewalks. The festival lasts all weekend and, like the apple harvest festival, has a beauty pageant “Miss Yam” and multitude of food. However, unlike the apple harvest festival, the yam festival has fire dancing! Overall, the yam festival was very fun- Togolese celebrate alllll night and even after returning from the beauty pageant at 430AM, we could still hear the music and singing from everyone around town.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE MARATHON and GHANA

As the marathon approached, our training runs increased in distance and difficulty. A 16mile training run took Kristine and I through one of the sketchier areas of Lome, where we dodged trucks and women selling bread, awed at the fan milk factory, breathed in fumes from the highway and port, and passed by the ancient German-built railroad tracks. For our 20 mile training run, four of us woke up at 4am and ran to Kara. It was a long way, but we had roughly judged that it was about 20miles. A few of us had pedometers and stopped at the 20 mile mark. However, I had no idea where the 20mile mark was, so I continued running until I reached my friend’s house. It was then that I realized the run had probably been closer to 23 or 24 miles.

Soon we were ready for the marathon, or as ready as we were going to be. We booked the hostel, planned our transport, made T-shirts, and ordered the most fantastic pagne track suits ever. We met in Lome, and the 15 of us walked across the dusty border into Ghana. We approached the wild west of bush taxi stations, found an air-conditioned van amongst the vendors and chauffeurs, and jumped in. As we approached Accra, we began to notice the signs of development: paved roads, sidewalks, lots of building and construction, glass on windows, and many 2-story buildings (extremely rare in Togo), and stores with English signs like “Jesus Daddy” and “No Weapons Cafeteria”. Then, large houses appeared- houses like those in the US! - And then- buildings! Big multi story buildings with glass windows! “So much glass,” I thought. And then- a mall! A shopping mall like in the US! And then- an overpass!! At this point, our van was a riot; we could not believe our eyes. Everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed and Ben took pictures of the overpass and shopping mall. (I must remember to get a copy.) After arriving at our hostel, we all prepared ourselves to explore this marvelous city called Accra.

I had culture shock so many times during my stay in Accra- whether it was the multistory buildings with glass windows, the suits and ties that business people wore, the Wi-Fi in the hostel, the ceramic plates and pretty presentation at restaurants, the grocery store that had vegetables and cheese, and of course the food: the smoothies, sandwiches, French fries, 3-story KFC, fried chicken, tacos, margaritas, spicy chicken wings, BLT, chocolate milkshake, Panini’s... everything. The most intense culture shock, however, was the shopping mall. Walking in, I had to take slow steps- taking in all the stores- the glass walls reaching to the high ceilings and the tiled floor and air-conditioning. There was even an elevator, but it was broken. We saw a movie-Contagion- in a Western style movie theater with popcorn and soda and I completely forgot I was in Africa. But when movie ended and the lights turned on, we began to leave the theater and returned to the real world.

THE MARATHON

The marathon was difficult. We woke at 3-something AM and sleepily hopped into a van that (after some confusion) took us to the starting line. Then, about an hour after the official start time, we were instructed to line up across the highway. The race photographer was there and held out his hand to the approaching cars, indicating that they should stop so that we may begin the race. Once it was clear that the cars would stop, the race gun went off, jolting everyone to begin running. We ran and ran- first along the highway, taking care to avoid the cars and trucks that whizzed by, then through a shipping area, then a dusty dirt road with no shoulder at all, then along the side of a busy market and bush taxi stopping area, where we were forced to dodge Marché mamas, drivers, bush taxis, and take care not to fall in the random holes in the sidewalk. People would drive by and hand out water bottles or bags, but as the race progressed, their handouts became rarer and eventually stopped altogether. The final part of the race a guy started running with me, putting ear buds in my ears in an effort to convince me to buy his cd. I ignored him, thinking if I just ran long enough, he would eventually get the idea. But, my legs started severely cramping, so much that I could not run. So, he stuck around, trying in vain to massage my legs whenever they cramped up again, and I walked/hobbled the rest of the race. At the very end, I met up with Kristine and began jogging again. But just a few yards from the finish line, my legs cramped up completely. An old guy saw this and told me to stomp really hard. So, I started stomping/marching in pain to the finish line. This worked a bit, and the cramp lessened enough to cross the finish line, where I deliriously drank water and ate a banana and I had prepared the night before. I had been so hot (there was no shade during the race) and dehydrated (they ran out of water during the race) that I was completely exhausted and drained and almost delirious. When the music guy asked me for money, I just burst into tears. But, I had injured my back the day before, and crying seemed to pull on this injury, causing more pain – which for some reason caused me to laugh- which also hurt my back. Finally I was able to calm down, rest up, and soon left the area with my friends. That night we all went to Champs in Accra and celebrated with American tex mex food, and watched real football on a big screen.

HOPE THROUGH HEALTH

Marathoners raised money for Hope through Health by running the marathon. Hope through health is the organization that sponsors Association Espoir pour Demain (AED). AED is based in Kara, but there is a satellite in Kante; I probably work with them more than any other group. They provide assistance for people living with HIV/AIDS. It would be scary to find out you are HIV+ in any country, regardless of economic status. But here, in Togo, to be poor and learn that you have an incurable disease that will use up all your finances, take your energy and ability to work, and leave your family with nothing, is worse than death. Medicines and Doctors visits are expensive when you make less than $1/day, and when you add in the fact that you are pretty much guaranteed to be sick again relatively soon, the will -and logistical ability- to live disappears. AED, with the support of HTH, provides so much for patients here (nutritional kits, medications, medical exams, counseling) and I would not want to see a Togo without them, where patients are left to fend for themselves. So, I want to say thank you sooo much to those of you who donated. If you’re curious or would like to donate: HTH’s website is: http://hthglobal.org/

NEW VOLUNTEERS

In August, the new volunteers swore in and moved to their villages. I went to the ceremony in Lome, which brought back many memories from one year ago, when my stage swore in. Then, in September, new trainees arrived from the US. This is the last new group to arrive before the June group who will replace me. It is strange knowing that the next new Americans here will be here to replace us. But, c’est la vie.

Poppy and Qui sait

My dog puppy is quite a big dog now, much bigger than other Togolese dogs; I think it is because I feed him whatever I am eating, which is much more nutritious than the leftover scraps that are fed to Togolese dogs. He is also incredibly clumsy and awkward. He often knocks things over (candles, books, chairs) when he is trying to scratch a tough-to-reach spot on his back. Sometimes when he yawns, he moves his mouth so that is surrounding an object (such as my computer), and then when he finished his yawn and begins to close his mouth, he finds that he is biting something. The neighbors know Poppy as the “bandit” because he gets in trouble all the time. He kills some guinea fowl, which is a very serious crime and usually results in the death of the dog. And, now that rainy season is here, he has been swimming and rolling in all the mud puddles. Qui sait, the neighbor’s dog, is referred to as Poppy’s “apprenti” (aka bandit in training) around the neighborhood. Qui sait is much smaller, but follows Poppy everywhere and chases chickens and guinea fowl and all other small creatures. They both love my house and hang out at my house all day; they also love attention. Right now, Poppy is trying to stop my hands from typing and begin scratching his head, which makes it really difficult for me to type. Usually, Qui sait comes up and tries to get attention too by trying to jump over Poppy. Unfortunately, he was hit by a car and has a broken leg.

BAT

One day, I was cooking dinner in my kitchen by candlelight when I saw a shadow move by the ceiling. This didn’t bother me much, because the candles always create weird moving shadows. But, Poppy and Qui sait and the cat Buster suddenly started making a lot of commotion and ran out of the room. I stopped cooking, and then saw the shadow enter and quickly leave the kitchen again, followed by the two dogs and cat. Suddenly, I realized it was a bat. I ran out of my house, still holding the fork that I was cooking with, and ran to my neighbors, who were eating outside of their house. “There is a …” I couldn’t remember the name for bat; I knew it was something like the name for mouse. “There is a mouse that goes like this in my house!” I said, waving my arms to indicate the wings of the bat. The kids jumped up and ran towards my house, screaming “I will kill it!” I ran after them, followed by their mother and aunt. One kid had a machete, another had my broom, and the third was just running around empty-handed as I nervously jumped and shrieked every time the bat flew by me. The chase went on for a few minutes, with the kids running around and the adults opening and closing doors to try and direct the bat out of the house. Finally, the bat zoomed out and we closed the doors and everyone left to return to their dinner.

CHANGES

I often think about how I’ve changed from when I was in the USA, and am always surprised and intrigued by all the changes. First of all, I am super awkward now. When Togolese get together, they often can sit and stare and say nothing for minutes-or hours- at a time. I remember how I felt so awkward in these situations when I first arrived, but now I do the exact same thing. I am also mean and impolite now. I will yell at kids and tell them to leave, demand people “give me this”, “take this” without saying please, and will purposefully ignore people who bother me. The meanness comes from how easy it is to be walked over here, and the rudeness comes from the way language works here (no one says “please” in Lamba). Another change is my patience. I have always considered myself a patient person – but, I know I have just become more patient here. Another change is that I don’t see poverty anymore. The rags that people wear as clothing I see as clothing, not as rags.

TELEPHONE

Ring Ring Ring Ring! “Hello?” “Hi How are you?” “I am fine how are you?” “Fine. How is the family?” “Fine and how’s work?” “Fine and -” oops! Phone credit ran out, ending the race of a conversation. This conversation has happened again and again here. A convergence of affordable cell phones with their pay-as-you-go plans and Togolese culture of long greetings has led to these strange speedy phone conversations. Most people in my town have a cell phone, but usually do not have “credit” currently on their phone to make a phone call. When they do have credit, it is a small amount, only enough for a couple seconds of conversation. So, when they call, they speed through the necessary greetings and try to get to the point of the conversation before credit runs out.

UNEXPECTED VISITORS

I got a call one day from a man who was a Benin peace corps volunteer 25 years ago. He was traveling around the world with his wife and son, and was planning to reach Kante the following day. I agreed to meet them and show them around a bit. The next day, I ran into them, and we began our tour of Kante. The room in the auberge was a bit too small for the three of them, so I decided to host them at my house. A few hours later, Travis called and asked to spend the night; he had left too late from Kara to get back in time. So, we had a full house! I made a really tasty dinner of taco salad and pasta with tofu and then we all sat around and talked. It was definitely one of the most memorable evenings I’ve had here- it felt sort of like three generations all in one room – the husband and wife, the little boy, and Travis and I.

DEAD YOVO

So, you know every outfit and T-shirt and prom dress that gets tossed into second hand shops and goodwill? If nobody purchases them, they eventually end up in huge overstuffed bags, piled onto ships that sail into the Togo port (and I'm sure many other ports). Through the market women, the clothing somehow gets distributed all over the country, so there is always a huge selection of clothing from the 80s. There is so much stuff that I'm tempted to buy, especially shiny bright prom dresses with puffy sleeves.

JULY

July has been the comme-ci comme-ca month. At the end of June, a month packed with travels and work, I returned to Kante with nothing on my schedule except figuring out what to do with my life and getting back on track with training for the marathon. I've found it to always be a bit difficult returning home and "getting into the swing of things";every time I return, it is a bit like I'm entering Kante for the first time. Usually, however, after a day of cleaning up from traveling and walking around town, I'm back to my (somewhat) normal schedule. However, this time, upon return from my super trip of June, it seemed extra difficult. Rainy season was officially here and everyone was out in the fields every day, students were away on their summer vacation, and my motivation level just plummeted while my feeling of jadedness soared. After over a week of this, I caught a bush taxi to Kara (the big city), met up with some fellow volunteers, and realized that we had, individually, been experiencing the same emotional and motivational "rut". "Mid-service depression", we named it. We had been here a year, hadn't done anything big, only have a year left, felt useless, and this is all compounded by the fact that it is rainy season and everyone is in the fields so its that much more difficult to find people to do something with. After realizing other volunteers were experiencing mid service depression, I felt a hundred times better. (Which of course is how I always feel when I hear of others suffering.. Haha..jk). I returned to Kante still in a rut, but with the knowledge that it is a mid-service rut that is not bottomless (like the bottomless bowl of pasta at that restaurant at Penn state that I miss...). So, bit by bit, July started to get better. I realized that not *all* of the students had gone on vacation, and I also started studying (GRE and MCAT), reading, biking, cooking, and running a ton.

WEDDING

My cluster mate Travis and I were invited to a wedding of one of our friends' relatives. Weddings are a bit rare here. Usually, a couple just lives together and has children, foregoing the wedding ceremony due to its high costs. One time at the hospital, a women arrived for a prenatal consultation. During the course of her registration, as usual, she gave her name and her partner's name. When we heard that they had the same name, everyone in the vicinity gave a surprised "wow". I had never been to a wedding in Togo, much less a Muslim wedding and was super excited. We left my house on our way to the wedding, not really knowing where to go. Our friend had told us it was the big mosque in town, but there are a few big mosques in town. We decided to head towards the center of town, thinking we would figure out where the wedding was somehow. Sure enough, we ran into a few guys who were all dressed in identical clothes - a sure sign that they were involved in some type of celebration- and found out that they were indeed going to the wedding. We walked with them towards the mosque, hearing the music as we approached. I was a bit nervous, wondering if I should have worn a veil like all the Muslim women, and where I should go and if there was any specific protocol. Luckily, our friend met us and guided us as we took off our shoes and entered the mosque. A large room with many fans, mats, and men sitting in plastic chairs greeted us. I sat beside Travis as my friend instructed, even though, looking around, I saw only men in this main room. All the women were behind a divider. We greeted the men around us, noticing than many people were from out of town, and many people were rich. There was one guy who was actually overweight- probably obese- it was so strange to see such a large man; I realized I hadn't seen an obese man since I was in the US. Soon, the ceremony commenced. A guy got up and started talking and singing. He was followed by another guy and another guy. During each song, people would walk up and drop money into a bowl. I hadn't been expecting this, so had only brought one bill with me. As I walked up and dropped my bill into the bowl, I looked down to see all these foreign bills! I was so confused! We were in Togo- where, as far as I know, only one form of currency is used. But, regardless of what the currency was, they still accepted my West African CFA and I returned to my seat, anticipating the next part of the wedding ceremony. But, the next part never came; there was a bit more singing, and then everyone left. I never was able to see the bride or figure out which man was the groom. Our friend found us in the crowd and guided us into a car which then drove to a walled in compound with chairs and tables. We were seated and then served A TON of food. Lots of rice with cabbage and beef, bissap juice and citron juice, and then, when I thought I couldn't eat anymore, black pate with sauce and beef skin. As we left, we realized our friend hadn't shown up to eat and began to wonder if we were in the right place. Sure enough, when we passed by his house, he was waiting there, wondering where we had gone. Entering his compound, people all turned and looked at us, greeting and offering food. After explaining that we had eaten at the wrong house, we stayed a bit to have a drink and say hi to everyone and then left. I was so full as I walked all the way home, I felt like a penguin waddling away with a full belly.

WEIRD INFECTION OF THE MONTH: ABSCESSES!

I get heat rash a lot. It comes and goes - usually on my thigh just above my knee- and is more annoying certain times compared to other times, but overall, I am used to it. However, at the end of June/beginning of July, a couple of the heat rash pimple type things, started to get pink and ooze. I had it pretty much under control, though. I would wash it twice a day and keep it covered with triple antibiotic ointment and a Band-Aid, and soon it would heal and go away. Another one would soon appear though, and after a few weeks of this infected heat rash cycle, a lump started to grow just above my knee. It turned reddish purple and became really hot and painful. "Its just another infected heat rash, I thought. But, one day, after doing my fourteen mile training run, this lump seemed to gush out through an opening in the skin. For a few days pus and blood just oozed out and a second lump began to form and ooze. I called the med unit, who informed me it was an abscess, and after making sure it wasn't a life threatening thing, gave me instructions on what care and treatment I should take. So, within a week, it was pretty much all better! This whole process lasted the whole month of July. It is right now just finishing healing, still looking a bit gross, but feeling fine.

FOUR YEARS FROM THIRTY

I am 26 years old now, which is weird, because when I was in high school, my field hockey jersey was #27 and I remember thinking how old and knowledgeable and put-together I would be at age 27 (which is currently just one year away). Also, I don't feel 26 at all; I feel like I'm 23 or 24. This must be because I went skydiving when I was that age and I want to go skydiving again. Not really- instead, I think the reason is that I am currently choosing between med school and grad school, which is a junction that most people on that career path reach when they are younger. But, regardless, here I am at 26. The exciting thing is that I will be running the 26.2 miles of the marathon when I am 26.2 years old. My birthday was a fun, but very chill and laid back day. Travis and Alisha (my cluster mates) biked to my house and we all went out for a beer and then began making egg rolls! (Alisha and I had been wanting to make egg rolls for awhile now). We feasted on egg rolls and tchouk before going to get a beer with Papa (my landlord) and The Blind Man (we never remember his name). We then returned home and bought goat meat and pasta and rice for all my neighbors to eat! It was fantabulous and they loved it.

RAINY DAYS AND MONDAYS

We are officially into rainy season. Apparently, rainy season came late this year. It would rain a bit in May and June, but there were still be about a week between rains. It wasn't until July when rainy season really picked up. Now, it rains every few days and sometimes everyday. I love the rain and have not loved the rain so much ever in my life. I love how dark clouds creep up from the west, blanketing the Tamberma Valley and soon the distant rain hides the mountains from view. And then, before you know it, the wind picks up and the static noise of rain hitting tin roofs gets louder and louder until its hitting your own tin roof, so loud that it sounds like an avalanche of rocks instead of the tiny raindrops that they are.

BLAST FROM THE PAST

Since I first moved to Kante, I have been told stories about all the past Peace Corps volunteers who have lived in here. One had a dog like mine, and made Togolese-style clothes for her dog. Another rode his bike EVERYWHERE, rode to Kara and Sokode and Lome (hundreds of kilometers). Another was quite the partier and would come back from travels hung over, and another loooved kids. I often wonder how true these characteristics and stories are and how I will be described when I leave. Anyway, the volunteer who biked a lot has been brought up again and again in conversations, and I eventually got the impression that he was a super volunteer who could succeed at everything and became everyone's favorite person. So, when I heard that he was returning to Kante for a visit, I felt a bit intimidated to meet this all-star volunteer, but curious to hear his stories. So, I waited anxiously for his arrival. One evening, around the time he had mentioned he would visit Kante, I received a call from my friend inviting me to dinner. When I showed up at his house, I was surprised to see that the normal place where we ate together was not prepared; instead another room, decorated with tablecloths and pretty plates and silverware, was prepared. The former volunteer and his friend were there too! We talked all about Kante and Peace Corps Togo- the changes and similarities. Apparently Kante has not changed much. There is a new restaurant and a new road sign thing, but besides that, the same ladies are selling the same things as they were 6 years ago, the same trash, dust, and gorgeous mountains, and the same culture of course. Talking to him, I found out he wasn't a super volunteer; he was a normal volunteer who had challenges like everyone else and didn't end up working on exactly what he was selected for-which is a part of my experience that has been sometimes frustrating. He visited my house, which apparently has changed a lot. The landlord "Papa" built new buildings and a wall since he was here, and the decorations of my house are much more "homely" than his. He ate most of the same things I eat and did many of the same hobbies I do (biking, running, reading, writing). I was really happy to talk to him and cant imagine what it was like for him to come back and see what used to be his home.

DA DA DA DAAA DA DA DAAA DA DA DA DAAA DA DA DAA DAA DAAA.. (INDIANA JONES)

I have never seen the movie Indiana Jones. (I actually saw about 5 minutes of it in French, but then the electricity got cut off and I fell asleep before it started again.) But regardless, that does not prevent me from humming that song whenever I run. Specifically, during the last mile of my run, da da da daaa starts playing through my head as I envision myself tearing through the last mile of uphill. It never fails. Besides finishing to the music of Indiana Jones, my favorite part of the run is the half way point of the 6 mile run. At this point, I have run three miles West, am at the top of a hill, and turn around to see the just-risen sun mounting the sky. "Here comes the sun" instantaneously begins running through my head as the whole three miles back, I watch the sun get higher and higher in the sky, often producing spectacular rays through the rainy season clouds.

I WILL NEVER KNOW WHAT HIS NAME IS

"Je connais! Je connais!" My neighbors yell that all the time at the baby. I just figured it was what they liked to do - maybe one of those common Togolese french phrases- maybe something that everyone yells at babies- like how everyone always makes ridiculous facial expressions when looking at a baby. After about 5months of listening to "Je connais Je connais!", however, I realized that they were yelling this particular phrase to the baby for a reason. That is his name! I thought. I had asked his name a couple times when I first arrived but never remembered it, always just calling him baby. So, now I know what his name is, which is good timing because, at about 1.5 years old, he is curious and walking and has the potential to get into trouble.

CYRILLE

Cyrille is one of my favorite people here. He is a university student who, when not at university in Kara, lives in Kante. When he is here, he has been my french tutor and we usually end up talking about food. He showed me how to make rice and beans and I showed him how to make macaroni and cheese. He studies linguistics and loaves talking about different languages. I have been in the process of teaching him pig Latin. Anyway, he is in the process of defending his memoir, which is basically like a thesis. I read it, and although did not understand much of it (I really realized how much spoken French I know compared to written French) and I am so proud of him. He did an in-depth analysis of how the Lamba language can be used to express emotions and plurality. Even though I didn't understand it all, I just can't imagine all the work it took to do that - here in Togo! First off, barely anyone knows how to type - I have just started teaching some kids in the English club (who are in their final year of high school - like 17/18 years old!) and they have nooo idea how to type. I can't imagine the work going into typing a 100 page thesis that includes all those strange Lamba characters. Also, he had so many pages of references, found all these random books and reports written about the Lamba language- I had no idea the Lamba language had been researched! Anyway, I was just a bit blown away by his memoir. I had helped him fund this Lamba research project, and was happy to see my name "Mary Mafisa" in the thank you section. Soon, he will report back to Kara where he will meet a board of professors who will talk about his memoir and he may have to make changes before he can officially graduate. I asked him what he wants to do after graduation. Asking anyone here what they want to do "when they grow up" makes you feel really lucky to be from the USA. He wants to continue research and continue work in linguistics-which would be totally plausible in the US - and he would be an excellent hardworking and smart candidate. But here in Togo- you can't do research. You need money first. And its not like in the US where there are grants and universities and government and private organizations who want to fund things. Here there is nothing beyond who you know. So if you know rich people- if you are in a wealthy family, then go for it! But if you don't, you are sort of stuck. You can be a doctor/medical assistant/nurse, a police officer, a teacher. We are so lucky to have loans and grants; especially being in science. None of my university years would have happened - there are no educational loans available here. And my first job would not have happened- Togo isn't exactly No.1 in terms of science funding. But, you know- little by little. I hope things improve here in Togo for the Togolese citizens. Regardless I am just (1) super thankful to be American, (2) sad for all the potential that is lost due to funding here in Togo, and (3) super proud of Cyrille because he's come so far, little by little, and I hope we can find a way so he can go further.

THOSE WHO TALK DON'T EAT

In the US, dinner conversations are expected. Meal times are social times, often one of the only moments in the day when family or friends or coworkers can come together and talk about whatever is on their mind. In fact, we often arrange reunions with friends or meetings at work in the context of a meal (coffee with a friend or lunchtime meeting). Here this is not so; meal times are silent. I can always tell when my neighbors are eating because the talking, shouting, and crying that is inevitable in any household with 4 kids and a baby, ceases.

CLUB ESPOIR

Club Espoir has been one of the activities I do, regardless of how busy or not busy I am. It is a monthly meeting for kids living with or affected by HIV/AIDS. Every month, a different theme is reflected upon through the games, songs, and discussions of that day. Every volunteer who shows up regularly gets placed with about 6-10 kids of a specific age group. My group is called "the silver snakes" and is known among the volunteers as the troublemakers. While everyone else is gathering their group to begin a game or discussion, the members of my group are nowhere to be found. However, I love them. Once they are found and gathered, they are a great group. Just recently, they acted out a couple of skits. My favorite one was on the theme "the environment" which opens to the scene of a kid throwing a plastic bag of poop into his neighbors compound. The neighbor and kid get in a fight that continues throughout the ends dramatically when the chief of the village explains how it is not good to throw plastic bags of poop in your neighbor's compound because poop should go in a latrine and plastic bags should be contained with other trash and that we should respect the environment because we need it and it is like our friend. Quite a marvelous skit, I thought, even though it was a round-about way of getting to the moral. But, that is why I love my trouble-making club Espoir kids.

EVALA

Togo is made up of many different ethnic groups, each with their own slight variations of celebrations. The Kabye people just south of me, in the areas surrounding Kara have a celebration called Evala, which marks the coming of age of boys. During this celebration, villages get together and have a huge wrestling tournament, when boys from each neighborhood, then village, wrestle each other. It is a huge deal; and the president of Togo, Faure, even flew with his helicopter onto the celebration area. I saw one of the semifinals, which was still incredibly crowded, with seemingly every woman in village selling tchouk or food and every other person crowding around the field of wrestling.

Random text message from Travis: Eat an ear for me.

(I had told him that there was grilled corn in Kante a day before...I received the text message a day later and was really confused until I remembered the grilled corn)

June started off with a bang that never seemed to diminish. Mosquito nets, Carla's departure, the concert, a conference, training, and camp somehow all fit into the month of June.

ASEDA - PEACE PAL MOSQUITO NET DISTRIBUTION

Akanto with his NGO ASEDA sought out a partnership with Peace Pals, a group in the US, to bring and distribute mosquito nets to a couple villages near Kante. So, for about a week, community health workers were given the task of going house to house and determining how many mosquito nets each household had, if they were in good condition, and seeing if the residents knew how to use them. We saw many mosquito nets that were covered in holes and rips, and some that had been intentionally ripped and re-sewn to use as tablecloths or other decorations. Each family who needed mosquito nets then came to the school where we distributed new nets and gave demonstrations on how to use them correctly.

AED BENEFIT CONCERT

There was an outdoor concert organized to benefit AED. It had been planned to involve singing and dancing, speeches, and skits. The night of the concert, everyone packed into the enclosed outdoor area, and then, it began to rain. People pushed their way into the small adjacent room for shelter from the rain and everyone started to sing and dance. It was packed and hot, but so much fun. When the rain stopped, we returned outside to continue with the program, but soon the rain started again. For three hours, we went inside, then outside, then inside again, trying to continue with the concert, but also escape the rain.

GOODBYE CARLA

Carla, my sitemate, left Kante and returned to the US. It will be strange without her here. Usually when I make something tasty or just need a beer or a place to chill out, I always met up with her. So, now I am the only American in my town, which is good and bad. I will miss having another American to talk with and share things with. But, I will probably integrate even more into the community.

ONE YEAR ALREADY?

I have been in Togo for one year. It honestly does not feel like one whole year. The new people have arrived and it is strange to view myself as the experienced volunteer, the older one who can guide the new people.

BEHAVIOR CHANGE CONFERENCE

There is a new method of analyzing behavior change, which incorporates determining what the needs of a community are, which behaviors are associated with those needs, which group of people does the behavior, why they do it or don't do it, and creating methods to change the behavior. Anyway, I learned about this with some other volunteers and my friend/homologue Florence during a conference that encompassed a week. It was the most intense conference I had been to yet here. My brain was exhausted. It was very theoretical - and in French - and the combination of theory and high level French was exhausting. But, it was incredibly interesting and peace corps is going to start incorporating these methods into training here in Togo.

CAMP ESPOIR- TOT

Every "summer" (there isn't really a season called summer here), kids who have HIV/AIDS or have been affected (e.g. orphaned) by someone who has HIV/AIDS are given the opportunity to participate in a week of American-style camp. They play games, learn about health, business, and gender equality, share stories, and - of course the best part - make and eat caramel popcorn. Camp starts off with a week of training for the camp counselors, teachers, med staff, and jeune leaders. So, in mid June, I got together with volunteers and Togolese from all over the country. It was a super intense but incredibly fun week. I had not yet experienced a conference where volunteers and trainers meshed so well (usually, when volunteers get together, we have the bad habit of sticking together (and unconsciously ignoring our Togolese counterparts) because we are able to speak English and catch up and talk about random things). But, this training was completely different; we planned everything together, had discussions, and shared games and songs. By the end of each day, I was so tired of French that I couldn't speak correctly. In the evenings, there were movies available to watch. One night, I watched Jurassic Park, in French. It was so hilarious watching it alongside the Togolese counterparts. Whenever a dinosaur popped out of the background, she would say "bonne arrivee" (good arrival/welcome) and whenever a dinosaur was about to eat someone, she would say "bonne appetite!". She basically added this hilarious commentary to the whole movie, and I don't think I ever laughed so much while watching Jurassic Park. Towards the end of the week, I organized a soccer match between everyone from the north and everyone from the south. I had to convince a few people to play, but soon we had enough for a team. The day of the match, however, arrived with bulked up dark clouds and soon rain began to fall. People still showed up, though, and even when it the nice rain turned to a downpour, almost everyone kept on playing. I was slipping in sliding in the mud, almost everyone got scratched up in some way, and one guy cut his eyebrow and needed stitches (without anesthetic). As the game tied up, the Togolese got really serious about winning- and I don't think they were too fond of the laughing that all the Americans were doing. Also, a rainbow appeared in the sky, and many times, I was caught off guard by my opponent because I had been staring at the rainbow. (It was the first rainbow I've seen in Togo). The game was still tied when we left for dinner (I scored!).

CAMP ESPOIR

Months before camp, I was excited and ready to get involved in Camp Espoir. As preparations began and volunteers started signing up for specific activities, I joined in and signed up to be camp counselor for the youngest boys. Great, I thought, I will get to play soccer and be outdoors all the time. But, as the start of Camp Espoir approached, these thoughts changed to thoughts of: What did I get myself into. I began contemplating the fact that I grew up surrounded with sisters and female cousins, and had no interaction with boys. How will I deal with a bunch of little boys running around? What will I do if they are like the kid who, in a fit of rage, threw watermelon at my cat? Needless to say, nervousness was starting to build up. But, when I arrived and began collecting my boys and talking with them, I began to realize it might not be so bad. There were six boys in my cabin. One kid, Michel, began crying right away because he was homesick, but once he calmed, he proved to be the cutest kid of all. He was much smaller than all the other kids, and when we played soccer, he would mindlessly sprint after the ball, regardless of which team was in possession. Then, he would look at me, waiting for me to say good job. Adams, another boy, was a great artist. I had brought coloring books and would pull them out whenever we had a few minutes to spare, and they would color. Adams, however, began copying the coloring book drawings into his notebook. He could draw Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse better than I ever could! Everyday was a marathon. Masoumi smiled all the time and was happy with anything. Ericsone was the bossy kid, who seemed to think he knew everything, and Eric was sort of the peace maker of whatever conflict there was. Fazazi did not speak French well and barely ever talked or participated. Watching the kids, preparing educational presentations (hygiene, nutrition, sexual health), and taking care of whatever administrative things needed taking care of meant that from 5am to 10pm, I was up and about, busy doing something. My favorite time of the whole camp were free times, where everyone in the cabin would do something together, whether it was coloring, play soccer, ping pong, or Frisbee. One free time in particular, all my boys ran out towards the soccer field only to find it occupied by the older boys. That didn't intimidate them, though. They decided that my boys, the Jungle, could play against the older boys, the Mountains. All the little jungle boys took there place on the field and faced the significantly older and taller mountain boys and the game began. My boys were so into it- running and yelling. Bossy Ericsone was shouting instructions to everyone, and little Michel was just sprinting after the ball the whole time. Whenever the ball flew out of bounds and far away down the hill, Michel would be the only one sprinting after it, so excited to have possession of the ball for once. Mealtimes were also fun and interesting. The boys were not used to using forks and spoons and would have the most difficult time eating macaroni and salad. As the week continued, however, some tension began to grow. Fazazi, who did not speak French well began to get violent. He seemed to be easily provoked and would punch kids in response instead of speaking. Thankfully, my jeune leader Boug, who was also with the cabin, dealt with any problems. At the end of the week, we had a dance party. It was so much fun; every group- the teenagers dressed up nicely to the little kids who were just having fun, all the jeune leaders and volunteers all spent the hour dancing. Before I knew it, the week ended and everyone was going home.

I ATE ANTS

During camps and trainings, schedules are always packed, leaving little room for training for a marathon. But a couple of us decided to try to stick with the training schedule and got up at 4:50 one morning to run 10 miles before the training session began. The run was great, but when we returned, we realized the training session had been rescheduled to start earlier. So, we quickly ate some of the breakfast, showered and changed. I was still hungry and, as I left the room to go to the training center, grabbed a croissant I had in my bag and began eating. It tasted a little strange, but I didn't let that phase me. After I had eaten about half of it, I looked down at the croissant and saw that it was covered in ants! I had been eating ants! I had been in such a rush that I hadn't even noticed!

HOSPITALS

My friend Florence is in the hospital in Kara and has been there for over a week. Hospitals here are not like they are in the US. When you become a patient in the hospital, you are given a bed in a room full of beds, and that it is. You must provide your own sheets for the bed, and find your own food during your stay and do your own laundry. So, usually when someone becomes a patient in the hospital, their family and friends care for them. When walking through a hospital, and glancing into rooms, you will see the beds, and then beside each bed and lining the walls, will be the family and friends of the person along with their clothes and food supplies, all brought from the home or bought near the hospital. It is not a very comforting place at all, so I stopped to visit Florence when I was in Kara. I hope she gets better soon and can leave the hospital.

WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH MY LIFE

Lately, I have been thinking much about what I am going to do with my life. I know that I am living my life now, obviously, and am working here in Togo, but it will end soon- in a year. And, I need to decide what to do afterwards. Initially, I had planned to go directly to grad school afterwards to obtain my Ph.D. doing research in nutrition and immunology. But, lately I have been having doubts and second thoughts. I have been hearing that Ph.D. "isn't what it used to be" regarding the value that it holds, and that it is becoming more difficult to find mentors and labs that can support you, as well as a satisfying job afterwards. So, I've been considering going to school for M.D. or the combination M.D./PhD. degree. With that, you can do research still, but there is more job security I believe. So, right now, I am in the throws of this decision making process. I have been studying everyday for either the GRE or MCAT or both, depending on the day, and I've been looking at application processes to mentally prepare for whichever path I choose. But in the end, I just need to choose.

May 2011: WHY A HIPPO FANS ITS POOP

MAY 1: LABOR DAY

Labor Day here is a super holiday, celebrated with as much food and drink as Christmas and even New Years. People get together with their coworkers, all wearing the same pagne (the same design on the fabric of their clothes) to eat, drink, and dance. A couple people asked me how May 1 was celebrated in the U.S. They were surprised when I said that May 1 wasn't Labor Day in the US and even more surprised when I told them we don't do anything super exciting and special for labor day, apart from not going to work and spending time with friends and/or family. Anyway, I had never imagined that Labor Day (one of the those rather overlooked holidays in the US) would be celebrated with such vigor here in Togo.

THE END OF SCHOOL

School is in the process of ending. It seems to take a long time to end, it seemed to have been ending since the past month, which confused me at first. The students are in classes anymore; instead, they are either taking exams or have free days while their peers take exams. It's been a little confusing figuring out the schedule, so my work with students has diminished quite a bit this month. The girls soccer club is still going, although some days there are only 2 or 3 girls (due to exams) while other days there are 15! English club has also been variable. I have met with a few students who I am closer with for more personal tutoring/practicing English, but we have not had an official club meeting all month. I hope that this next month, the official end of school might bring more regularity with student groups.

LETTER WRITING

Awhile ago, my cousin had her students write letters to students here. I had been working with an English teacher here to find a suitable class to read the letters and write back as pen pals, and soon, I received the return letters, all ready to send back to the states. The letters were so cute! Some students wrote:

"I enjoy seeing your handwriting" , "Dear Pen pal, Good morning Emma. I'm your new friend. I now know your name, Emma. My name is Jean Baptice, and I like rice." "I don't have electricity. Have you? I like fufu, rice, and yams. What food do you like? I don't have a TV and a computer. I talk English. I have a real desk. I don't know spongebob. I don't know ice cream."

BUMPS and BRUISES

Once in awhile, someone in my family here will get a scratch, like Maxime, who was playing soccer barefoot on rocks, missed the ball, and kicked a rock. Ouch. Anyway, he came crying and we patched it up with special spongebob Band-Aids that my mom sent. Ever since then, he has loooved getting cuts. He loves Band-Aids. Almost every night, he mentions how he cut himself really badly that day, but when I look for his "cut", it is not to be found. He still insists it is there and that he needs one of the spongbob Band-Aids to fix it.

LIQUID SOAP

AED (Association Espoir pour Demain) in Kante is an NGO that assists PLWHAs (persons living with HIV/AIDS). They provide medical and psychological counseling, meds for opportunistic infections, nutritional kits and a good support network. Anyway, they had long been wanting to learn how to learn to make liquid soap as a way to earn additional income for the group. So, before showing them, I did a practice round with the neighbors kids. SOooo much fun. It reminded me of Pippy Longstockings, specifically the scene when everyone has sponges/mops on there feet and are sliding/dancing all around the room. I had always wanted to do something like that, and liquid soap was the way to go. Of course, some of the soap spilled, and of course, once Maxime took one step onto the soapy surface with that trouble-maker look in his eye, all craziness broke loose. Soon, the kids were sliding and dancing around all over my front porch. A few weeks later, I prepared the liquid soap with the members of AED. Although it was not as fun as with the kids, it was still successful and they are now selling the product.

TURTLE HANDS

One day, I walked out, and there were a few clouds in the sky! This may not seem incredibly exciting to you, but after the constant interminable sun of April, a cloud is very exciting because it means there is somewhere where it is not sunny.. Plus, I hadn't seen a cloud in awhile. Some time after viewing this cloud, it began to rain! And it was a freaking super huge thunderstorm, with wind that destroyed houses and rain that flooded streets and fields. It was so strange to see puddles of water, and sooo exciting to just be able to throw a bucket outside and collect water instead of worrying about where my water was going to come from next (our water pump had been turned off for a few weeks). So, this thunderstorm passed, and a few more random ones came and went, but soon, the storms began to come more frequently. Now, clouds appear almost every day. But, even though the clouds provide relief from the sun, it is still hot season, and does not yet rain enough to be rainy season. Instead, we are left with the hot weather of hot season, but the humidity of rainy season. Instead of the sweat evaporating off of me, I am super sweaty. Sometimes, my hands and fingers get all wrinkly like turtle hands, not from washing or swimming, just from sweat that constantly covers me! In fact, as I am typing this now, my hands are turtle hands - all wrinkly due to the sweat they are covered in.

WELCOME BACK MOSQUITOS!

So, now the rains have started and mosquitoes have begun to proliferate. I am being bitten more, which is reminding me that I need to use mosquito repellent, something I didn't need often during dry seasons. There are many more suspected and confirmed cases of malaria at the hospital. You can see at the hospital lab the lines of blood stained slides ready to be analyzed for the presence of the malaria causing Plasmodium falciparum parasite. Now, the work to combat malaria is being made more apparent. In June, mosquito nets will be distributed in the villages surrounding Kante. In addition to these provided through the minister of health, Akanto has also partnered I made PeacePals, a group in the US, to distribute and discuss mosquito nets. I made neem lotion with my family and am planning to make it with a women's group here in town. Neem is a type of tree, and the leaves, when boiled, release an odorous chemical that deters mosquitoes. So, there is a lotion recipe that utilizes this handy little property; my predecessor made this lotion and I am continuing it; don't want those mosquitoes!

p.s. I have a bug bite in my armpit.

MY MOM's BIRTHDAY

Like all holidays, I celebrated my mom's birthday in Togo a bit differently than I would if I was home in the US. It was thankfully a cool day. I had some good pate (similar to polenta, but with no spices and squishier and eaten with hands) with baobab leaf and gumbo sauce (aka snot sauce) and then I made a cake. At night, I made super fancy hot chocolate with the powdered milk that never completely dissolves and all the special godiva liquors and baileys and kahlua that my mom sent. So, happy birthday mom!

BAKING SPREE

In the US, I loooooved to bake cakes, breads, cookies, anything really. All the time, I was either baking or finishing what I had baked. When I got to Togo, I stopped all baking; how could I without an oven and the proper ingredients? But, I found out about a "dutch oven", which is a basically a large pot and lid that functions as an oven. So, I bought my large pot and lid,, poured some water in the bottom, placed three inch-tall tin cans to prop up my "baking pan", and began cooking! Once you make the dough, you can place it in any metal pan or bowl that is small enough to fit into your big pot, place the lid on, and throw the whole pot and lid with pan contraption on the stove or over charcoal or wood or anything with fire and let it cook! So I did this, and soon had a incredibly tasty chocolate cake in my hands. Wow, I thought. I unknowingly released the former baking spree person that I was. I was soon baking cakes, brownies, and breads! In the middle of this, my mom sent blueberry muffin mix, and a ton of those sample-size liquors. With this I began making rum brownies, grand marnier cake, and blueberry muffins (just not in muffin form). And, I started to teach my Togolese friend Poline here how to bake too!

BENIN!: LAND OF THE HIPPOS WHO FAN THEIR POOP AND THE ONES THAT LAUGH AT THEM

Why does a hippo fan its poop? That was the one question I deperately needed answered when I decided to go on a Safari in Benin. Not really, but our tour guide explained the answer regardless. One day, a man told his old uncle that he had learned why a hippo fans his poop because he read it in a book. Why would you believe what those white people write in books, the uncle said, it is already known why a hippo fans his poop. And with that he began to explain. When God made the world, hippos were given the role of eating the grass (essentially a lawn mower). But, the hippo said, “its really hot here, God! can I please stay in the water?” But God said, “No, if you go in the water, you will probably eat fish, and I don’t want you to eat all the fish.” The hippo replied, “I will not eat the fish, I do not want fish; I just want to be cool because the sunshine is so hot!” “Too bad, hippo. You’re staying on land,” said God. Some time went by, and the hippo continued to complain and request permission to enter the water, but God never changed his mind. Eventually, God decided to visit Earth. When he walked through Africa and saw the hippo suffering, God realized how hot it was and he decided to change his mind. “You may go in the water, hippo,” said God, “But, there is one condition. Whenever you poop, you must fan out your poop, so that I can clearly see that you have not eaten any fish.” So, the hippo entered the water then, and continues to return to the water during the heat of day. He also continues to eat grass, and never eats fish, as is proven by his poop, conscientiously fanned out so that God can see what he has eaten. So, now you know why a hippo fans his poop. But that was just part of the whole safari trip. We went to Penjari Park, a beautiful, mountain-surrounded and animal filled area in the northwest part of Benin. It is known as one of the best and only places you can take safaris and see "wild animals" in West Africa. We went as a group, with a fantastic tour guide who, throughout our safari drives, would quote random facts, like the gestation period of a hippo. Every morning and evening, we would be speeding along the bumpy roads of the park in an old durable car, holding onto the home-made rooftop plywood chairs that we were sitting on, while dodging (and sometimes getting smacked in the face) with branches of trees and thorny trees, all while looking out for animals. Sometimes, the car would come to a halt, which meant our tour guide saw something. We would grab binoculars and he would explicitly explain where the animal was located and spout out random facts about this animal. We saw many animals, including elephants, warthogs (my fav), hippos, tons of birds, a super huge lizard, baboons, red monkeys, green monkeys, tons of different relatives of the antelope, and crocodiles. At one point, our tour guide saw an elephant in the distance that was on its way towards the road. We slowed to a crawl, and I guess the elephant realized we were not evil snipers out to shoot him, and he decided to cross the road right in front of us! Soon after, we went to a watering hole that was full of hippos! Some of the hippos were diving and swimming around and playing, some were farting/pooping a lot, and some were laughing- like really laughing. It sounded exactly like those laughs common to evil cartoon characters. Like (long audible inhale)-hahahahahaa.

SPARKLERS, GLOW STICKS, and EASTER EGG HUNTS

My family had sent sparklers (never realized you can send sparklers through the mail), various varieties of glow sticks, and plastic easter eggs. The neighbor’s kids go absolutely crazy over these things. With the sparklers and glow sticks, they run around the compound area at night, pretending they are some time of Kung Fu master. And with they Easter Eggs, they go even crazier. Every day, they want to have an Easter egg hunt. So, almost everyday, they run outside the compound and close the door as I and my neighbor hide the Easter eggs. Then, once they here the door opening, they sprint inside, practically knocking me over, and begin searching for Easter eggs. The oldest always find the most, and Maxime can only find them if I give him hints, but they don’t seems to care who finds the most, as logn as they get to play every day, as often as possible.

AED HAPPENINGS

The people at AED are quite busy now. There is a concert planned which will benefit the members of AED and raise awareness about HIV/AIDS. There will be songs, dances, speeches, and skits. Also, AED has recently acquired a new building. Actually, it is a room in a new health clinic that was recently built in Kante. Everyone is very excited about it, and hopefully by the end of the month we will be there.

MARATHON TRAINING

There is a marathon in Ghana in September, and a group of us Togo Peace Corps volunteers have decided to sign up for it and raise money for Hope Through Health, which assists with AED. So, we have begun training. And its been pretty rough, mainly because of the more-often-than-not diarrhea or stomach discomfort. But, I have been starting to do my training runs no matter what; if I can run training runs with gastrointestinal problems, then I can run the marathon with gastronintestinal problems. Anyway, it is soo good to be back running again and get back in shape! I am incredibly excited, and especially excited to be running to raise money for a group that I work with and see every day.

MARSHMALLOWS

One of the Indian stores in Kara just started carrying marshmallows, so everyone's been buying them (you don't see many marshmallows in this area of the world). So, of course, I bought some, brought them home, and excitedly showed my neighbors. At first, they didn't realize they were a food, which, I guess they don't look or smell like a food, but it had never occurred to me that a marshmallow could be anything but a food. Anyway, then, we roasted them and ate them, or rather, I roasted one and ate it while they started and wondered what I was doing. But, then I think they may have gotten the idea.

RANDOM

I was bitten by something called a blister beetle.

The neighbor kids' favorite song of mine is Poker Face, by Lady Gaga, except they call it Oringa

April was a good month. I finally got settled back into Kante after traveling and being sick, and was able to spend time with people, doing things like eating mice and going to the market. My English club picked up, the soccer club finally started, and I saw camels! I also began training for the marathon that will take place in Ghana in September.

APRIL IS HOT. REALLY HOT.

April is very very hot. I don't really know or feel like describing it. I don't sleep on my mattress anymore, because it is too hot. I keep the fan pointed at me, but it blows hot air. Its so freaking sunny, it feels like the sun is just burning my skin. I have never noticed that I could get burned on my fingers. And never really thought about how sweaty my wrists and ankles are. My hair is constantly either soaking wet with sweat, or covered in dry salt from sweat. So yea, that's that. But, taking all that into account, its not as hot as I thought it would be (knock on wood). I thought it would be so hot that I would want to kill myself. And I haven't felt like that.

CAMELS

One day, I was riding my bike through town, on my way to someplace, and I saw a camel! Two camels actually. It was the most random thing in the world! No one seemed to be completely surprised or reacting in any way to the fact that there were two camels walking down one of the main streets of Kante. Sure, animals run around through the streets here, like dogs cats chickens goats sheep etc, but never camels! It would be as if you were walking in DC, minding your own business, and you saw a ostrich strutting down E street. And no one was reacting to it! In fact, they just acted normal! Not knowing how to react, I just started a bit, told my peace corps friends, and then continued riding my bike. A few hours later, Akanto calls me, saying they have stopped and people can pay to get on the camel. So, I head down to where the camels are, and sure enough, there is a small crowd surrounding about five or six camels. Men and women and schoolkids are taking turns getting on the camel teasing the people who are scared. I tried to take a picture, but then they asked for money (just because I was white- seriously, other people were taking pictures and they were not asking them for money). Finally, one of my friends told them it wasn't my cameral it was another person's camera, so I shouldn't have to pay. That placated them, seeing that it was not the white person's camera, and they didn't make me pay a fee.

THE NEW SCARY BUG

We discovered a new scary bug. It's a mixture of a spider, a scorpion, and a cockroach. My clustermate had mentioned this bug to me, and I didn't really think anything of it...until Easter dinner. We were all relaxing, after having a super amazing meal (pork, cheesy pesto rice, curry cabbage, hummus, mango chutney) and i saw something -really big- move -very quickly- across the room. It was about the size of one of those giant cockroaches and it was the fastest moving bug i've seen yet- faster than the cockroaches and even those speed demon wall spiders! My clustermate who was already familiar with this bug screamed that yes, this was the bug she had been talking about. We immediately put on our flipflops (foot protection) and grabbed other flip flops, ready to kill this super fast furry looking spider bug that had two big antenna type things. After a few unsuccessful attempts at smashing it, we finally cornered it into the kitchen. The three of us stood at the kitchen doorway, flip flops in hand, ready to smack it when we saw it. (I decided to stand on a chair, just for extra space and protection.) After what seemed like eternity, the bug appeared in a blur and somehow someone smashed it! it was dead! Once we confirmed that it was dead, we tried to figure out what it was, but to no avail. It has 8 legs like a spider, but it had weird antenna things, and just did not look like a spider in general (besides the 8 legs. Anyway, I am glad it is dead, and I hope I never see it again.

MOUSE - TASTES JUST LIKE CHICKEN

I ate a mouse. It was so good and the perfect accompaniment to tchouk, the local beer. It reminded me of chicken wings-like the kind you get at sports bars. We just needed a football or ice hockey game and I would have felt I was back home... once I got over the look of the dead mouse, at least.

AMEOBAS AGAIN

I got ameobas again :(. Which, is not fun. I was told to stay away from street food and tchouk, but i think that may be next to impossible. I was a guest at my friends house, where i was given the grilled mouse and calabash of tchouk. Totally rude to say no.... plus i really wanted to try the mouse too :)

INDEPENDENCE DAY

April27 marked Togo's independence day! I heard that there was going to be a big parade and dancing, so I walked over to the big field in town, to watch this parade. Everyone was there. More specifically, everyone was in the parade! The whole town was in the parade! Every organization and group paraded, followed by every neighborhood, followed by every school and finally by every government job (hospital, teachers, etc). It was the hottest (think midday hotseason) and longest parade I've ever watched, but it was still interesting. The best part was afterwards, when the parade formality ended and everyone gathered at the market to eat and drink and dance.

BIKING THE TAMBERMA

One of the only tourist sites in Togo is the Tamberma valley, which happens to be located right by my town. I had long been planning to bike through the valley, which is gorgeous, especially during hot season when you can see far into the distance, and see the layers of mountains. So, one day, when two of my peace corps buddies mentioned they would be biking through the Tamberma, I immediately decided to join in. The plan would be that they would be biking from one end of the vallery, I would be biking from the other end, and we would meet somewhere in the middle and return to Kante together. The valley is probably a little over 30km of unpaved, very sandy road. So, soon after setting out on my bikeride, I got a text message saying that my friends were stuck at teh opposite end of the valley with bike tire problems and had no idea if/when it would be fixed. So, I just decided to keep on biking. Biking biking biking. Met some nice new people and was attacked and chased by some mean new kids. Eventually, I made it all the way to the other side of the valley and met up with my friends! However, I was pretty tired, and I still had to turn around and ride the 30km back the way I came..with more uphills through sand and gravel. But, needless to say, we did it. We were just really exhausted afterwards.

SOCCER CLUB

My girls soccer club finally started! There are about 10-20 girls (depending on the day), and they are great. I'm working with a high school guy, who actually knows soccer (I was a bit worried about the fact that i would be "coaching" a soccer team without having played soccer since 1998) and is a great guy to work with. The girls are great too. The first day, I fell on the field (which is a mixture of gravel and sand) and skinned my knee. It started bleeding and the girls told me to sit down and they ran to get water and medicine They all gathered around to make sure I was OK. Anyway, I already love my girls soccer club, and I hope it continues and doesn't fade away.

BAC

There is a test that every high school student must take. It is called the BAC. (Actually there are two tests, BAC I and BAC II). Anyway, these tests are ridiculous; the students need to know sooo much information. In depth information on a wide variety of subjects. So, I've been helping my english club study for that. We have been meeting more often now. Many of the English questions are so difficult, even for me, an English speaker! The "book" will say the answer is one thing while the students are learning another thing and while I say that there are multiple correct answers. Anyway, I have felt frustrated for them, because this is such an important exam, but sometimes seems impossible to conquer. Besides that, English club has been great. We have the most random conversations; they recently asked how astronauts return to earth after being in space, and why they went to the moon, and what a walrus is, and how much it costs to build the world's tallest building.

FEBRUARY-MARCH

February and March passed by in a blur! Although, much time was spent in transit from one place to another. I traveled a lot, and between transit, sickness, trainings, I had little time in Kante. However, this Kante time suddenly became extra-packed with small projects and new work things, I went on an amazing vacation to Tanzania, and went to Lome.

SCHOOLS

My high school english club is going great! We prepared skits about HIV/AIDS and they performed them for cultural week! They also were really into reading poems. Now, they *really* want penpals. So, if you or anyone you know wants a penpal or knows of a US high school class who want penpals, let me know! I'm also hoping to start working with the girls at the CEG (middle school). Most girls who begin school drop out sometime during the CEG level, so many peace corps people focus on this education level of girls, so give them support so that they continue school. I showed up one day with my friend Akanto to introduce myself to the girls and see who would be interested in starting a club. I had envisioned myself, standing and speaking to a classroom of girls; we would talk about ideas for teh club: health, sports, science. Anyway, like most of my idealistic plans, the first meeting did not go exactly as I had imagined. When I showed up with Akanto, we were told to go wait outside under the mango tree and the girls will come to us. So, we went out and waited. Soon, girls started to arrive. More and more arrived... it was like a never ending group of girls; There were like at least 200 girls, ranging in age from about 10 years old to 20 years old. I was thinking, how are all these girls going to hear me? Luckily, my new best friend Pauline (I know like 4 Paulines here, all of whom are saving graces; they seem to be there and help out write when I need it), got the girls under control by singing songs and soon they were silent and staring at me. After some introdutions, and brief discussion, I decided to leave a paper for Pauline, who would get the names of the girls and types of clubs that had the most interest.

VACATION

In early March, I went to Tanzania and met up with my two sisters, Caity and Rachael. We all met up in the commercial capital of Dar es Salaam (which is different than the actual capital), and then took a ferry to Zanzibar Island. It was gorgeous. We spent time relaxing on the white sand and surreal beaches of Zanzibar, drinking beer, pina coladas, and wine at the pool bar you swim up to, and exploring the huge ocean floor that is left in the open air during low tide. After spending time at the beaches, we went to Stone Town, which reminded me of Europe with its maze of narrow alleyways and small stores and cafes. I was so happy to find a coffee shop here, and we spent a few hours just drinking amazing frozen cappuccino (except Caity) and talking, and then we found an amazing restaurant. At first I tried to try the local food, which mainly consisted of seafood and rice, but then I just gave up and had hamburger and french fries. After spending some days here, we went back to Dar es Salaam, spent some time exploring and getting lost in this chaotic city, and then finally found, and settled down in a fancy hotel with an amazing cafe with ice cream and cake and real cappunccinos and mmmmm (sigh). (If you can't tell, coffee shops and book stores are probably the things i miss most). Anyway, much too soon, Caity and Rachael had to leave, and I was left with a day to explore Dar on my own. I ended up walking around a lot, found a real bookstore, real ice cream, had my last assortment of good American-type food (pizza, beer, hamburger, triple layer chocolate cake with thick dark chocolate ganache and a cafe latte, and gummy bears) and then flew back to Lome. I was such a great trip.

POLIO VACCINE

While I was returning to Kante from Lome after vacation, I received a call from my boss. "Next Tuesday you should come to Lome for a training on the polio vaccination campaign". Damn, I thought, I'm not even back in Kante yet, and I already have to go back to Lome. This is a pain when you consider that its at best a 10.5 hour journey from Kante to Lome, depending on what kind of transportation you take and what kind of luck you have that particular day. On the other hand, yay! I love random last minute plans and health campaigns, especially since I just studied the polio vaccine in a class I took last year. So, soon after arriving in Kante, I turned around and went back to Lome. I had no idea what I was getting myself into. The day of the training, seven of us from the Peace Corps arrived at the World Health Organization's office in Lome. Soon into the training I learned that our job would be to monitor the campaign, to make sure that the vaccine-givers were actually vaccinating people and that all areas and all regions of Togo were covered. I would be working in my prefecture (similar to a county) with two Togolese for six days, three days during the actual vaccination campaign and three days post-campaign. Each day, each person had to visit three different localities (village or neighborhood) and interview ten families in each locality. This sounded like a decent amount on the day of the training, and I returned to Kante, all ready to begin monitoring the polio campaign the next day. But soon we were in the car: the three of us and the chauffeur, careening along the rough roads of the prefecture. And I realized it might be more difficult than I thought. You see, the prefecture is huge, bigger than I thought. It is spread out. Every village is far from the adjacent village and each village is spread out. Just the simple idea of going "house to house" is an effort in itself, let alone trying to find ten houses in a locality with family present. Anyway, we began "house to house"-ing with intensity. We jogged up and down the hills and along the distances that separated the houses so that we could complete the quota for the day. We met so many different people, saw so many different places and medical conditions. There were kids who couldn't speak, a paralyzed kid, many kids with kwashiorkor and countless many more with worms. In some areas, kids cried when they saw me, having never seen a white person before. We saw the tatas and The Tamberma people in the eastern part of the prefecture, the hills of the western prefecture, the forests and old abandoned German buildings of the northern part. There was one area that was inaccessible from where we were; and we had to leave the prefecture and drive two more hours to reach it in the mountains. Anyway, it was incredibly interesting to see every corner of the prefecture, and see how many languages were spoken. Sometimes we would arrive in a village and ask what language was spoken. The reply would be a language I had never even heard of! Needless to say, we often had translators and sometimes had layers of translators, from French to Lamba to another local language like Tamberma or Kotokoli After one day of this, I was tired. After two days, I was exhausted. And after three days, I was just going on adrenaline. I would leave the house at 630 and not return till 8pm. But, like all things, this came to an end. I said goodbye to the two people I had spent countless hours traipsing around the region with, and I went to sleep. I slept for 20 hours (partially due to some benadryl I took for my mango allergy). And then I woke up

MANGOES: A LOVE-HATE RELATIONSHIP

So, its mango season! i have been excited about this season since i moved here. the one ray of sunlight in the midst of the agony of hot season. mangoes are amazing here and mango season means mangoes EVERYWHERE. practically everyone has a mango tree near their house and every tree is just overflowing with mango goodness. super juicy sweet fresh mangoes; the best mangoes on earth. So, of course, I eat the mangoes! Tons of them! as many as I can get! But, soon i get a weird rash on my lips and around my mouth that makes it painful at worst and annoying at best to smile, talk, and eat. I see the med unit, and find out it is the mangoes. An allergic response to mangoes. I cannot eat mangoes unless I cut them up into little pieces and eat them so that they don't touch my lips. but have you ever tried to cut a small juicy fibrous mango into small pieces and eat it so that it doesn't touch your mouth? Have you also tried to walk through town in the harsh sun of hot season when you're covered in sweat and and just see cool refreshing mangoes everywhere? no one seems to be selling anything but mangoes, and there are tons of them! Anyway, needless to say, I tried eating mangoes again, meticulously cutting it into small pieces as instructed, but eventually gave up and just ate it. I washed my face afterwards in hopes that whatever compound caused the rash would be washed away, but soon, the rash appeared again, and I was calling the med unit again, asking for the same allergy medicine again. I guess hot season is difficult for two reasons: the heat, and the temptation of mangoes.

WHO TURNED UP THE HEAT

Hot season has arrived. Togolese are saying that it is hot; people are sleeping outside because it is too hot to sleep inside, I sweat through the night, and it is not because of fever. During the day, I am just drenched in sweat. Today, after I came back home for lunchtime "repos", I was so drenched in sweat, it reminded me of after running the marathon. I basically keep the fan on 24/7 now, and cringe when i think of my friend Travis, who is in a village without electricity, and therefore no fan. I have heat rash all over my head and neck and is spreading to my chest, and looked up what to do to help it. "Keep the area cool and dry", it says.., yea right. I would have to squeeeze into my baby refrigerator for that to happen. Luckily, my friend recommended this mint-infused baby powder that you can find at the market, which is quite the life savor. I rub this baby powder all over my neck and my scalp, and it helps. One other thing that makes me cringe is when the Togolese tell me that this is not comparable to April. April heat is bad. It is very hot, they say. Right now, it is just hot. You have a fan right?, they say. And I think of Travis without a fan. Yes, I have a fan, I say. Ok, that is good, they say. You will use the fan during hot season. " Yes, I will,"; I say, and think again of Travis, without a fan. God help us.... or at least travis.

WATER PRECIOUS WATER

Its dry season. Its been dry season since October. Rivers are dry; people have dug holes in river basin in search of water. Wells are dry or almost dry. Water has been shut off in places that use water pumps. My compound uses one of these pumps, and it has been cut for a week. People in the morning and the evening go to the well or the few pumps that are open and wait in line to get water, then carry it all the way back home. I went through all my storage water, and my neighbor showed up with a basin full of water on her head for me. I have changed small things to conserve my water. I eat street food more often instead of preparing food, so I dont have to use water to wash dishes. I buy bags of drinking water instead of filtering my own. And when I take a bucket shower, I try to catch the waste water in another bucket to use for keeping the toilet clean. You never know how important water is until its not so easily accessible!

LETS WALK TO DEFALE!!!

The day after the polio campaign monitoring ended, a few of my cluster mates had planned to walk to Defale, the little town on the other side of the mountain from Kante. After having seen it in passing from various squished positions in the numerous bush taxis I've taken to/from Kara, I decided I wanted to walk to Defale too!. How hard could it be? Just over the mountain. So, that morning as we were leaving, we started guessing about how long it would take. 2 hours, 2.5 hours maybe? We walked and walked, and reached the mountain and walked some more... Walking up a mountain in hot season with no shade is not a good combination. 3 hours later we arrived! We were all completely exhausted, got some food, and then found a place to sit ...and sit..and sit. We ended up finding taxis back to Kante. The mountain top did provide an excellent photo opportunity! However, my host brother accidentally deleted all but one of the photos. Oh well, c'est la vie.

THE ANISARA SONG

In many places, people have a word/a label, for a foreigner. In southern Togo, they call foreigners and white people "Yovo". In my area, they call white people "Anisara". There is even a song/chant that children sing when they see a white person. "Anisara Yovo Yovo Bonsoir!". It is a very popular song, and when one child starts singing, all the children within hearing distance run towards the white person and sing. This may seem cute or funny the first couple times, but after a few months, it gets annoying and sometimes offensive (depending on your mood). It is a constant topic of conversation among peace corps volunteers on the best strategies to stop this song and to have people call you by name instead of "Yovo" or "Anisara". Anyway, my strategy has been to ask the children (in Lamba, the local language), what their names are and then tell them my name in Lamba. I just always try to use Lamba so they think of me more as a local than a foreigner. So for the past eight months, I have been trying this again and again, as well as responding very enthusiastically when people use my name "Mafisa". Last week, as I was walking along one of my standard pathways, I heard the beginnings of the Anisara song. "Oh man, not the Anisara song again" I think "I hope there aren't too many kids around.". But, in the midst of my negative thoughts, the song changed. "Anisara Yovo Yovo gentile! Mafisa Mafisa Mafisa!" They continued chanting my name until I walked away with a smile on my face. I guess I will never get rid of the Anisara song. But at least now I have my own personalized version!

FORGET BAR HOPPING- LET'S GO FUNERAL HOPPING!!!

Funeral season has arrived! This means dancing, eating, and drinking. I was walking through town one day, and saw a huge crowd of people off in the distance, and heard drums playing. I walked over and ran into my friend from AED, who explained what was happening. Someone's father had died awhile ago, and this is the season when they celebrate the funeral. Men were adorned with feathers and had noise-maker things attached to their legs, so that when they stepped and danced, the noise would go with the beat of their feet. Suddenly, someone grabbed my arm and brought me into the dancing circle. My AED friend followed and we began dancing with the celebrators. Soon, the dust became bad (everyone dancing during dry season means lots of dust in the air from feet stomping), and my friend pulled me away, saying there was another funeral a little ways away. So, I grabbed Maxime and Blaise, who had come with me, and she grabbed her little daughter, and we marched off to the next funeral. We caught this funeral just in time for the meal! We danced a little, and then were told to sit down, where we were given some tchouk to drink and rice and meat to eat. Soon, a van load of people left this funeral (they were family who had traveled from far away), and we decided to go to another funeral that we heard about. So, we walked to the school, where we saw a lot of people in white drumming and singing and dancing. The guys were in white spandex shorts with bands of tassels and shells. they had white socks that soon became brown with all the dust. They danced to the road with some musicians and then started dancing down the road towards a central dancing area. We became part of a huge crowd of neighborhood women who joined in their parade. We arrived at the central dancing area and the outfitted people formed a circle and started dancing. everyone else watched and slowly began to become part of the dancing circle. I joined in too, and then they brought a huge container of tchouk for everyone to share. I sat with my friend from AED for awhile and as it began to get dark, we decided to head home, exhausted from a day of funerals.

JANUARY ....and part of February

What a month! 2011 began with celebrations! But soon after, I fell sick and spent much of the month sick and/or recovering. I continued with the English club, AED, and helping out at the hospital and began cooking with some Togolese friends. Like always, interspersed throughout the month were more random "only-in-togo" experiences.

NEW YEARS

Togolese love New Years. Everyone visits everyone else, and groups of kids go from house to house, singing and asking for candy. Unlike people in the US, New Years Eve night wasn't the big celebration. Instead, New Years Day is when the celebration really starts and continues for some days and nights after. I spent New Years Eve watching the movie Ghandi at Carla's house and then returned home right in time for midnight! Once midnight arrived, people in the neighborhood started hitting pots and pans and yelling and singing! I shared a celebratory oreo with my cat and dog, and went to sleep. I woke on New Years Day to a chicken screaming (if chickens scream) at 5am. I was a little confused, especially since I was half-asleep, but a few hours later, my neighbors knocked on my door to give me a meal of fufu, complete with sauce and a piece of the chicken, which I assumed was the one that had woken me up with its screams. Just when I finished eating this, the other neighbors arrived with a plate of their fufu! Meal number 2! I finished this second plate, and then took a walk through town to wish everyone happy new years and say hi to my friends. "Bonne heureuse annee! Happy new year!" Everyone in town was shouting to me and inviting me to eat and drink with them. Fufu, rice, pasta, meat, sauce, tchouk, and even salad! After visiting some of my friends and sharing in multiple meals, I somehow managed to waddle home with my incredibly full stomach, only to find that it was time for the family meal with my neighbors. This day was comparable to living at an all you can eat buffet! I was stuffed! After this meal, I could not move, so I took a nap. When i woke up, I realized I was llate for the big celebratory meal of the day! So, I took a moto across town to Akanto's gardens, where the about 20 people had gathered to celebrate the beginning of the New Year. We ate (again!), drank, sang, and danced. Eventually, exhausted and stuffed, I called a moto to return home. But before returning home, we drove around town, watching everyone celebrate. The town was full of lights and music and dancing. I arrived home, got into bed, and fell asleep to the sounds of celebration.

The next day, I road my bike to Travis's village to see how his village celebrates New Years. It was another day of eating eating eating! We first went to his friend's house, where Travis was given a knife and a duck and told to kill it. After some contemplation, he decided not to kill it, and his buddy arrived and gave us a detailed demonstration on how to kill a duck. We hung out there for a bit, then went to visit some other friends, where we ate, talked, and sat around watching the old drunk women who had apparently drank too much tchouk that morning. After hut hopping (going from hut to hut to say hi and eat) it began to get late, and I realized that I was facing a long difficult bike ride on a painfully full stomach. So, I started pedalling. What a ride! I will never bike again immediately after eating 10000 meals. When I finally made it home, I took a shower and lay on my couch, unable to move or think.

GOAT

Once when I was young, my sister Rachael left her tennis shoes on the roof of the family car. My mom, after getting the three of us in the car (and probably dealing with Rachael's temper tantrums..haha) started driving away from our lovely house, out of our little neighborhood, and onto the big bustling Miniville road. Our car sped up, but somehow, the shoes hung on and continued to stay unnoticed on the roof. Good times do not last forever, though, especially for shoes. And especially for Rachael's shoes. The turns and traffic caught up with them, and they fell off, onto Miniville road. Eventually everyone put the pieces together and realized what had happened, and we all blamed it on Rachael. A similar thing happened here recently. Except with a goat. I found a van going to Kara, and hopped on, expecting the normal bushtaxi ride to begin. Sure enough, once the van was stuffed with so many passengers that no one could move a finger, we started driving out of Kante. Our van was speeding towards the mountain, everyone in a good mood, reaching the base of the mountain and soon we were climbing slowly up the mountain, the van following the winding road. But suddenly, there was a noise from behind, and I looked around and saw two animal legs hanging off the roof. Everyone in the van started yelling as we watched, through the rear window, a goat fall from our roof . I don't know if the goat was trying to escape or if it was scared of heights and wanted a seat closer to the ground. Either way, it had no choice. The van stopped and a few guys ran out, grabbed the goat, and retied it more securely to the roof. We made it to Kara with no more goat issues, and I have one more memory to add to my memories of things falling from vehicle roofs.

MAXIMES ENCOUNTER WITH THE CRICKET/GRASSHOPPER THINGS

One day, I was in my house recovering from malaria, when I heard Maxime yell from outside. "Mary, come look!" I looked out of my door, and there he was, standing and holding two strings, the ends of which had been lovingly tied around the bodies of two cricket/grasshopper things. He proudly smiled and held up the strings, so that the cricket/grasshopper things were lifted off their feet, and forced to just hang or try to fly away. One was near death, so it just hung, while the other was in a desperate fight for its freedom, so it chose to fly. Fortunately for the cricket/grasshopper things, Maxime freaked out when the freedom-seeking one tried to fly, and he released the strings and ran away screaming. But, unfortunately for the cricket/grasshopper things, Blaise, who was not scared of their flying skills, grabbed the strings and brought them face to face with Buster the cat, who had been crouching in the corner of the terrace the whole time. Buster, however, is deathly afraid of little boys, and, instead of feasting on cricket/grasshopper things, he ran towards the doorway as fast as he could to escape the little boys. At this point, Maxime had recovered from his fright and returned and the freedom-seeking one was now near death. So Maxime, without having to worry that they might fly again, grabbed the strings and demanded pictures with them. So, I got out my camera, and we took pictures: Maxime, Blaise, and the two dead cricket/grasshopper things.

MALARIA, AMEBAS, AND SWOLLEN FEET, OH MY!

One night, I went to bed and went to sleep. But, in the middle of the night, I woke up because it was soooo cold! I put on my fleece sweater and sweat pants and tried to go back to sleep. Didn't work. I got up again, put on socks and grabbed two sheets to insulate myself from this strange cold weather that had suddenly gripped Togo. Still freezing cold. I didn't have any more warm winter type clothing, so i eventually fell asleep as i was. But not for long. Soon, I was awoken by my best friend: diarrhea. Ran to the toilet and then ran back to my warm bed. Freezing cold, but fell asleep again. Then another wakeup call: diarrhea again! Every hour or half hour! Finally it tapered off, and i got some sleep. Soon the sunlight shone, and I decided to sleep longer,; I was so tired and it was still so cold. Eventually i woke up, realized i was incredibly sore and had a high fever, and called the med unit. one thing led to another and soon i was sitting in the hospital lab, with the lab chief poking my finger to get blood for malaria test. after some time, he was on the phone with the peace corps med unit, saying that i was positive for plasmodium falciparum, the main type of parasite that causes malaria in togo. i got home, exhausted, took the medicine coartem and was soon feeling better.

the next day comes and i send a stool sample to the hospital, and soon find out that I also have amebas! Lucky me! Apparently parasites decided to invade my body. The next few days, I rest a lot and am soon feeling almost back to normal. I return to my normal "out and about type" schedule, but soon get tired and sore again. A week later my fever returns and I am calling the med unit again! "Come to Lome," I am told. So, within a half hour of hanging up the phone, I am on a moto, holding my breath because every bump sends pain shooting through my body. I get on the bus (there was luckily one seat left just 15 minutes before departure), and brace myself for the 10-11 hour bus ride over bumpy mountainous semi paved roads. Finally, that night, I get to Lome, and realize my feet, a leg, and hand are swollen and painful. My fever is starting again, I'm soo incredibly exhausted, I just want to pass out and/or cry. I finally arrive at the medunit and am greeted by the a wave of air conditioning. "Oh my God. This is heaven", I think. A note on the table informs me that my dinner is in the refrigerator and to call if i need anything. I am further convinced that I am in heaven. My room has a bathroom, with hot water and a bathtub, a bed with a comforter and pillows, and a remote control for the air conditioning. I rinse off all the dust and sweat from the bus ride, clean my painful swollen feet and leg, eat the most amazing dinner I have ever had in my life, and pass out on the comfiest bed on this side of the Mississippi. The next morning, I wake up, and am seen by the med unit staff who get an inventory and history of all my symptoms, take pictures of the weird swellings and bruises that have appeared on my legs, feet, and hands, and do some tests. It might be a different type of malaria, they say, and they give me medicine. I return to heaven aka my bedroom, and rest, read, sleep, and watch movies. The day passes and the weekend arrives. Every day I feel better, although I am sure it has something to do with the amazing food and air conditioning and just all around comfort and care you get at the med unit. Soon we are into the next week. I stay while they monitor my symtoms and finally, about a week after I arrive, I am allowed to leave. My release coincides with the start of a conference that I must attend, so instead of going home, I go to the Central Region for a few days to attend the conference. Finally, after the conference has ended, I go home. Home Sweet Home. I have never been so happy to return to Kante. My neighbors and friends stop by to say hi. I was so happy to see everyone and Poppy and Buster and see my house, even though there was an inch of dust covering the floor from Harmitan.

THE DAY POPPY GETS NEUTERED

One day, I had expressed interest in Poppy being neutered, everyone who heard immediately jumped on the idea, saying that this will cause Poppy to grow much more and prevent him from leaving our home and exploring the town. So, a week later, 3 men show up, saying they are here to castrate Poppy. I take Poppy outside and hand him over to the men. Two of the men hold Poppy down, and the third takes a razor blade and right then and there castrates Poppy, right outside my house. The neighbors heard the commotion (Poppy was screaming bloody murder) and arrived to start joking about Poppy. Poor Poppy, once free, ran away from the laughter and the pain and went into the corner of my house. He did not move for the whole day.

TAMBERMA VALLEY

The same day Poppy was neutered, a friend's parents had come to Kante to see the famous (relatively speaking) tamberma valley. I went with them and translated the tour guide's descriptions into english for them. I have never felt my french be so useful. We drove through the valley, and entered the Tamberma land. The Tamberma people and the valley are famous for the "tatas", which are mud fortresses that were built to defend the Tamberma people from the slave traders. These small fortresses, are very traditional. Every man, once he reaches a certain age, shoots an arrow from his father's tata. Wherever the arrow lands is the location where he will construct his own tata for his own family. Each tata has a specific number of rooms that are laid out in a certain way, so that the family members can always be on guard and see potential enemies outside. All needs are supplied inside the tata. There is a place to prepare meals, to store food and animals, to shower, sleep, give birth, and hide from enemies. There are animist mud structures where the family makes sacrifices for protection and for their ancestors. I thought it was beautiful, and when you climbed to the top, you can see miles around (dust permitting), just as the people back in the day could see miles away and prepare for any potential attacks. After the family dies, the tata is abandoned, and slowly, the rain and wind take down the mud fortress. So, as you drive through the valley, you see both fully constructed tatas, where families still live, and other abandoned tatas, in different stages of dilapidation. It was interesting, and I definitely want to return in hot season or rainy season, when the harmitan's dust doesn't cover the view of the mountains. The return trip back to kante was a togo experience in and of itself. It was starting to get dark. and the car hit a bump, completely breaking something that seemed imperative for the wheel to be connected to teh car (i have no knowledge of any car nomenclature). So, we got out, called a mechanic, and waited. Waited waited waited. I got to know my friend's parents well. Soon, a car came and took us back to Kante. It was late, and luckily they got a car to Kara.

THE NEW PUPPY

My neighbor Clarisse, who always takes care of Poppy and Buster when I am out of town, has decided to get a puppy of her own! So, now our compound has so many animals! Poppy, who is now about 7 months old, loves to play with the new puppy, who is about a month old. Buster, however, has not quite warmed up to the new puppy, and keeps his distance, especially when Poppy and the puppy are playing together. But that's ok.

LEARNING TO BE TOGOLESE

I became friends with one of the secretaries at the lycee. And, she is slowly but surely showing me how to be Togolese. I made pate, sauce, fufu, carried water on my head, and helped sell tchouk. Everything is so much more difficult than what I'm used to! Pate, for example requires you to hold and stir and super hot pot of cornflour-water mixture. The pot is really hot, and the mixture is very thick. you can't stop stirring, or it will burn, but its so thick that it feels like im stirring cement. After it has reached the correct consistency, you quickly scoop it into a bowl and turn the bowl upside down on a plate. You then take the bowl off, leaving the pate on a plate. You eat it with your hands, pinching it off piece by piece and dipping it in sauce. Making sauce is also difficult. First, you crush hot peppers, onions, tomatoes and ginger. And crushing these is an effort in itself. There is a large flat stone that you place the ingredients on, and then use a smaller stone to crush the ingredients. After initially crushing the ingredients, you need to make a fairly homogenous mixture, sortof the consistency of pesto. But, there is no food processor in Togo, so instead you use your rock to crush again and again, until the infredients have sufficiently been all crushed. It is a lot of work! Then you cook this mixture and add additional onions, water, fish and hot peppers. I had help making it this time, and we all ate together. Next time, though, I am going to make the pate all by myself! I better start working out my arms more so I can stir! (Even though I thought I was already working out my arms with carrying water and doing laundry!)

December flew by! It kicked off with World AIDS Day on December 1, which was more like World AIDS Week. Then, all the volunteers in my stage allow with our Togolese counterparts spent a week at training in southern/mid Togo. Finally, I began my English club, had a few visitors, went to Carla's amazing Cultural Center Benefit, and of course celebrated the big "fete" of Christmas!

World AIDS Day (and week)

December 1 marked World AIDS day, which meant there were tons of activities, and I was super busy! I helped at the hospital, where they were giving HIV tests and counseling, at the schools, where they were having discussions, debates and activities, and at the library, where there was a grand celebration/sensibilization. I really enjoyed this week, although it was somewhat emotionally difficult at times; at one point I was in the consultation/counseling room when an 18 year old found out that he was HIV+. There was also a very bad bus accident that occurred on the mountain near my town, and the injured crowded the small hospital. But, since it was a day/week to remember and promote actions against HIV/AIDS, I would like to talk a little about how HIV/AIDS is in Togo, and how the system works for those who are HIV+. Officially, here in Togo, the HIV rate is 3%, although many people believe the statistic to be much higher. Once a person has the HIV, they must be monitored and if their CD4+ level falls below a certain level, they qualify for free ARVs (anti-retrovirals aka the HIV medicine). However, these ARVs, although they can be very good at slowing the progression of AIDS, do not really help if an AIDS patient gets sick from another infection. So, an AIDS patient who gets sick, can be faced with huge (relatively speaking) medical bills that cannot be paid. Many infections like this make it financially impossible to manage the disease. So, there are a few NGOs that pay for medications, health consultations, hospital stays, and nutritional kits for these patients. I work at one of these NGOs, called AED, and as long as they pay dues, equivalent to $1/month, patients are taken care of. Dues are a problem though. People don’t like to pay dues and then they get sick. Anyway, that is one of the frustrating things about it. Another frustrating thing is that people don’t get tested. So, although patients who are HIV+ have resources, people don't want to take the test because they think that it isn't confidential, they are scared, they don't think they could have it, and probably many other reasons.

CULTURAL CENTER BENEFIT

My site-mate (the other Peace corps volunteer living here), is very involved in music and dance with kids. Every Saturday, she has a cultural morning, in which kids come and learn English, learn to play the recorder, the drums, and to dance. It's a great (although exhausting) time. They meet in this dilapidated "cultural center" that has definitely seen better days and for some reason has a big hole in the middle of the room. I was trying to think of what to hole's purpose is, but I have no idea. Maybe it was someone's dream to swim in a tub of spaghetti noodles like in that movie with Robin Williams and they built this hole in preparation for a place for the spaghetti noodles. But actually, that is probably not the reason; the hole is made out of cement and large and looks more like a hole for a mass grave than a hole for swimming in spaghetti. Just around the corner from this place is a butcher place...I didn't realize this until one time is was riding my bike, turned the corner, and almost ran into two dead pigs, hanging from something that reminded me of a swing set, with blood dripping from their bodies onto the dusty ground. Anyway, point of the story is: the cultural center building is crap. So, Carla has been working on fundraising for a new cultural center building that would be in a nice location and be a good spot for kids to come and not have a random big cement hole that people are always scared to fall into. As part of this fundraising, she, and the kids, and some other dancers and singers and storytellers from nearby, put on a huge benefit concert! And it was wonderful! There is usually not much of a nightlife here, especially compared to the US, and having everyone in one place for a big concert just brightened my day/night. For more information on Carla’s cultural center project, check out:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projdetail&projdesc=693-355

http://www.facebook.com/?ref=home#!/pages/Espoir-Cultural-Center/112389832150384

ENGLISH CLUB

Finally my English club is up and running! And it is so much fun. There are about 10 students who show up regularly, and they are so smart. We have discussions about the US and Togo and the world, all the while learning and improving English. Last time, I gave them an assignment to write a paragraph about a magazine article or picture (I had brought in various magazines that all you lovely family/friends have been sending) and the results were hilarious/serious/good discussion-starters. One person chose a picture of a dog licking a man's face, and the student said "By seeing this picture I am very happy. I didn't think that white men liked to play with dogs as I do." Another student chose a picture of barns in south-central Pennsylvania and said that "the buildings in the picture look like mosques". Someone else described a picture of people in Washington, D.C., saying that everyone was well-dressed, fat, and the girls are beautiful. There were also some discussion-inducing articles, including one about a student shooting spree (they asked me why the student chose to shoot other students) and China's one-child policy (I was interested to see what they thought of it, being from Togo where it is not uncommon to have women with 6-7-8 kids.) The students also wrote me a poem:

Miss Mafisa, (that's my Lamba name, which means I am laid back/relaxed/at ease)

Our English club wishes you 12 months of peace, 52 weeks of joy, 365 days of love, 87600 minutes of happyness [sic], 525600 seconds of success in the kingdom of health for the year 2011. We also wish you Merry Christmas holiday and happy new year.

Anyway, so I like my English club a lot and I want to use it, not only to teach English, but to introduce them to different topics and debates that they might never have encountered.

FIRES IN THE SKY

So, fires are everywhere. Harvest is over, so people burn their fields. It is not very good for the environment (or for my constant sore throat and stuffy nose), but it helps them to clear the fields, prevent uncontrolled fires, and find animals to eat. It is also gorgeous. At night, you can see fires on the mountains all over the area, and it look like they are just floating in the sky because the darkness prevents you from seeing where mountain meets sky. There's a rooftop bar here also, and from the rooftop you can see fires off in the distance.

CHRISTMAS EVE AND CHRISTMAS

Enter into the season of fetes. Everyone has finished the big harvest and people want to feast and celebrate. People crowd the markets, buy little toys for kids, and make huge meals. I was not aware of the insanity of the market and so, like every Friday, I decided to go to the market on market day to buy some supplies, not thinking that it was Christmas Eve and not realizing and that the Christmas market is equivalent to Black Friday at Target. It was impossible to walk, talk, and even think. Needless to say, I had the song "God is great, beer is good, and people are crazy" in my head for a long long time. So, once I got over the magnitude and density of all the people, it was a pretty interesting time and I even saw a monkey! But, I soon left, walked around town for a bit, and then met Carla for Christmas eve dinner. We ate delicious pizza that she made and a weird concoction of dessert-type things that I made. Then, we played and sang Christmas songs! After listening and trying to remember all those things that my true love gave to me during the 12 days of Christmas, it honestly felt just like Christmas! I was ready to grab my warm coat before heading out into the winter wonderland before I realized that I was in Togo. Anyway, I left Carla's house on a moto, re-hung my stocking on my bulletin board with care (there aren't many places to hang stockings), and went to sleep. Next day: Christmas! I woke up early as usual (cough cough, Caity and Rachael, I cant believe you slept in till like 7something), had my oatmeal and green tea and sat down to open presents! After some chill time (I was able to talk to my family on skype!), the feasting began. And Oh My, soo much food! Meal 1: salad with pasta from the neighbors; meal 2: pasta and rice and pintade from the other neighbors; meal 3: beef and salad and ginger sauce at Akanto's garden with the prefet; meal 4: beef and rice and sauce and wine at Akanto's garden with all the students there; meal 5: pasta with chicken, cabbage and apple compote, sweet potatoes and gravy, mango/coconut/banana dessert, eggnog with Carla. Afterwards, I could not move at all. I couldn't even think. I went home and slept. And that was my Christmas.

OTHER RANDOM THINGS:

I went with the peer educators one day to another village for a full day of idea-exchanging, and on the way back, there was an overturned truck on the mountain (which is on the only national highway, the paved road that goes from south to north). So, we walked down the mountain. It was so much fun, there were like 30 students and me, all singing and dancing in the middle of the national highway walking down a mountain.

TASTE CHANGES

In the US, before parting for Togo, I had a fairly healthy diet. I would rarely/never eat fatty meats, and stayed away from red meats in general. All dairy products were the reduced or low fat version, and, save for my one Achilles heel of gummy bears, I would not really eat candy or candy bars. I never craved any of these things that I excluded; I just ate the things I wanted to eat, and didn't eat the things I didn't want to eat. Here, though, I find myself craving things that I would never ever want to eat in the US. For example, beef, and meat in general. I crave meat soooo much. If I could press a button and be back in the US and be able to eat whatever I wanted, I would eat lots of half-rare steak with sour cream, lots of big juicy cheeseburgers with all the fat dripping onto your hands. I would eat pizzas with every single topping and extra cheese. I would drink sodas and root beer floats. I would eat 5 egg omeletes with ham and bacon and sausage and super rich cheddar cheese. I would get the most calorically-rich bagel and put an inch of full fat flavored cream cheese. Shepherds pie, meatloaf, beef enchiladas covered in grease and cheese, eggs on everything, fried eggs, scrambled eggs, deviled eggs, real butter, real mayonnaise, ranch dip, potato chips, real sour cream, ham, Sliced turkey, gravy, pork chops, lasagna, veal parmesan. cheese meat cheese meat eggs. I don't really know why this is; I didn't have these cravings while I was in the US, when I had these options available. I don't know if I will still want to eat all these things once I return. I think maybe it is here, in Togo, when meat and eggs are difficult to find and prepare, and dairy (except for the powdered milk) is almost unheard of, that I have cravings for these things. I hope the cravings go away when I return to the US, or else I might double in size!

NOVEMBER

November's been a little crazy. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately, depending on how you look at it), I haven't been "doing" a whole lot; I've been sick for about the past month, so have spent a lot of time just hanging out at places that are never too far from a toilet. Besides this, I ran out of gas, got a cat, and of course all the other random "Togo" things associated with being here.

SCHOOL CLUBS

So, I have been trying to start clubs at the high school here, particularly a soccer club for girls and an English club. It has proven to be much more challenging than I thought. In typical Mary fashion, full of optimism, I showed up at the lycee, asked who wanted to join my club, and got a list of 50+ names. We set dates and times for meetings/practices, an d then went home, super excited for the first reunion. So, of course, first girls soccer practice, I show up, and there are a bunch of older men at the field and no girl in sight. "hmm...must be a misunderstanding," I think. So i leave and plan to bring the issue up at the english club. So, first english club, I show up with a bag full of english newspapers and magazines, all ready to be the stereotypical inspirational english teacher that transforms kids lives for the better. But, the only people in the room are just a few guys hanging out-not interested in learning english. "where is the english club?" i ask. "they are in the other room," one of the boys says. I prepare to go to this other room when another boy says that they are not going to meet for english club because there is a soccer game. He says he can walk with me to the match, so we head over to the match and find all the teachers and principal in benches watching the game. they invite me over and i plop down in the front row and watch the game and get a complimentary cup of lemonade, since i am sitting with the important people. (side note: i looove juice here, but am always crossing my fingers that it was prepared well, and not laced with giardia or other disease-causing microbes....ill talk about this more later) The game is great. Everything about it reminds me of high school football games. There were the groups of students, cheering in packs, some guys even wore wigs, like some guys do in the states. A couple students just walked around the field the whole game and talking (this was me in high school). there were all the older men sitting together and (i imagine) talking about how soccer was played in the good ole days. And of course there were the players. Some of the players were all decked out and had nice soccer cleats and shin guards, while others ran and played barefoot. Regardless, they all played soccer better than i will ever be able to play in my life, even if i had super fancy gear and a personal coach..haha. When the game was over. the fans of the winning team, rushed the field and jumped onto the players. they had random pots and pans and were making a lot of celebratory noise. it was really fun to watch.

SICKNESS! - don't read if you get queasy

Almost the first thing you hear as a volunteer arriving in Togo is to pay extra attention to sanitation and be wary of things that could give you gastrointestinal diseases. In my "stage", we were all made aware of the seven "levels" of poop and educated about situations that necessitate a call to the med unit. We were also told by other older volunteers that it would be a "feat to go through the two years without shitting your pants" literally. Our group, upon hearing this, added a "level 10" to the poop spectrum (mentioned earlier) which corresponded to pooping your pants. Now, we have a "level ten club" which is rapidly growing in numbers. So anyway, that brings me to now, or actually to this whole past month. I eat street food pretty much whenever I travel or don't feel like cooking or on market days. One of the risks you take eating street food is GI disease. So, one day, I started to get sick. Nausea, extreme bloated-ness, gas, diarrhea, abdominal pain, stuff like that.... Sometimes it wasn't that disruptive. I would just have it in the morning, as if my body was saying "Ok Mary, get all the crap out from yesterday, it's a new day!" But,, after this started to make me a hermit and stay inside all day, and after referring to my SHIT book (Staying Healthy In Togo), I realized that i should call the med unit and was instructed to do a "MIF kit". MIF kits are one of those things that every peace corps togo volunteer knows about but no one else has heard of. The term often flows in and out of conversations nonchalantly, and I always need to remind myself that the rest of the world doesn't think of MIF kits on a daily or weekly basis. So anyway, the theory of a MIF kit is that, in order to compensate for the lack of good diagnostic labs in country, someone sick can send a sample of their poop in the mail to Lome where a lab in the med unit will analyze it and give you a diagnosis. Unfortunately, sometimes, the lab can't find the parasite-or whatever- in a single MIF kit. So, some people need to send in a billion MIF kits before anything is detected. Right now, I am in this process.... hopefully they will find something before i reach the billion mark. On another note, I can't imagine how Togolese who have no or limited access to medical care deal with sickness... they just live with it... or die. I had realized this before.... but, being sick now, makes me extra thankful that I have medical care...and makes me think of those Togolese who don't have it.

HARMITAN

Harmitan began! For awhile after the rains stopped, the sun was out all the time and it was soooo hot I don't know the temperature; i have no thermometer, but I know that it was hotter than it ever was before. I would lay down with the fan pointed at me and sweat. And the thing is that its not even hot season. But after a couple weeks of no rain, the collective dust from the many motos and people moving over dirt roads sort of sticks in the air. It makes me think of western films when a horse with a cowboy would ride out, with dust and dirt (..and maybe static since its an old film.. ) filling the screen. Actually i don't think I've ever seen a western film, but if i did, this is what i would expect. Anyway, the dust is good, because it blocks out the sun and cools the earth. But is bad, because you can *feel* the dust everywhere. in your hair in your eyes, in your throat. Creases of dirt appear where my elbow bends, and if i scratch my arm, i collect dust under my fingernail. This happens even while showering multiple times a day! The dryness also takes its toll. My skin is so dry, creating cracks all over my feet, hands, and lips. Dust coats everything in the house. But, besides the dust, I quite like harmitan. I was reading under a big baobab tree one day, and the shade and the breeze just put me right to sleep. It was so nice.

GAS: its really important for life

I have a gas stove, that I rely on for everything. Practically every meal must be cooked in order to kill any microbes that might be hiding on/in the food. So, basically, having a working cooking apparatus is more imperative here than in the US, where you could just eat uncooked food or hop on over to Paneras or Chipotle (mmmmm....*sigh*) Anyway, I had my first experience running out of gas, which meant that I couldn't cook until my gas could be refilled. Gas-refilling is an interesting experience that makes the most sense to me if thought of in terms of math. There are 3 different variables that will tell you when/if your gas tank will be refilled. First variable: when is the gas person coming to town. Second variable: Is your gas tank at the gas station when the gas man comes through town. Third variable: who do you know who can ensure/expedite this process. Of course there are probably a billion other variables. But, luckily for me, I was certain of the third variable, and that sort of canceled out all the other variables... so my gas got filled within a reasonable time. I don't know if that made sense to anyone else, but it made sense to me. So anyway, luckily (or perhaps unluckily-depending on how you look at it), I had no appetite that week because I was in the midst of whatever GI sickness I had/have (see above), so I didn't really need to cook anyway. But, it was a harsh reminder of how imperative gas -and cooking- are for daily life here.

POPPY AND BUSTER

So, I now have both a dog and cat. Poppy has a ton of energy and is a complete trouble-maker. He loves antagonizing Buster and the two are hilarious to watch. Poppy runs and jumps-sometimes practically landing on Buster. Buster, on the other hand, does not like the dog, preferring to hiss and scratch than to play with the dog. sometimes, they bring their fight to me... the cat will jump on my lap and the dog will run to my feet. I imagine both of them saying "Look cat/dog, mary is my buddy, so she will take my side", the dog trying to jump the cat away and the cat trying to stick to me like glue. Like usual, I try to avoid the conflict and push them both away to take their conflict somewhere else.

Buster has gone through a lot already, so I'm surprised he trusts me. The process of taking him home was a three-four hour process involving bush taxis, motos, and near death experiences (from the cat's point of view). At one point, I was on a moto with the moto driver, carrying two other bags, and hanging onto the moto, and holding onto the cat. I am so glad the cat is alive after a trip like that.

Also, I have come to the realization that I like my pets more than I like children. I don’t really want to advertise this fact, and feel a bit like the stereotypical mean old cat lady neighbor who yells at kids. And, obviously, I understand that children are more important than animals, and if push came to shove and I had to choose whether I wanted to save my animals or the children, I would definitely save children. But, it all began one day. I was sick (as I described earlier) and had gotten into one of those Togolese situations where you go out, just planning to stay out for one errand, and one thing leads to another and before you know it, you’re away from your house for 5 hours. Anyway, I generally like those kinds of days, but not when I’m sick. I finally got home after dark that day, and was watching a little kid, while their parents were busy. At first, everything was fine, but they little things caused the kid to get upset. Like, I offered a type of juice that wasn’t red in color, and I gave one type of food when the kid wanted another. At this point I just wanted to rest and have me-time. So, I gave the kid some watermelon, which finally calmed the kid down. Unfortunately, at this moment, the cat decided to stop by and say hi. The kid did not like the cat and started kicking and screaming and then started to throw the watermelon at the cat! I was so upset and grabbed the cat to save him from the watermelon-throwing-angry kid and then told the kid that was not nice and that the cat will eat you if you are not nice. Then, I just occupied the kid with coloring until the parents arrived. The night turned out well once I was on my own after that long day, but it made me realize that I definitely like my pets more than kids.

BUSH TAXI stories

Recently i took bush taxi to Kara. There was a cow in the trunk. Whenever the cow moved and tried to escape the whole taxi would move. This added to the rollercoaster effect of the bush taxi experience.

Also, recently, I was taking a bush taxi with a couple friends on the way back from thanksgiving. We were coming from south to north, and, as expected, once we entered the kara region, we began to see lots of mountains. soon we were speeding up the mountain, passing trucks and slower moving mopeds. but, as we were nearing the top, our speed-demon van started to slow to a crawl, and soon stopped. we had broken down on the side of a mountain. Like typical Togolese roads on mountains, this was not a lined road with safety railings. so, all the passengers got out, and the driver let the van rolled backwards down the hill. he stopped the van,, got out, and started flagging down any drivers who could potentially help our situation. We, the passengers, found a spot a safe distance away from the road and watched our driver trying to get help from the giant trucks barreling downhill. i henceforth commenced searching for monkeys (i had been told that monkeys live in the mountains, but had yet to see any). i didn't find any monkeys, but our driver found help, and within half an hour, we were on our way up the mountain again.

HILLING FETE

So, my friend Kristine's village had a traditional African "fete" (party/ceremony thing) of the Kabye people called Hilling and I decided to go see it! In this fete, men dress up as women to varying degrees ranging from just wearing a skirt to wearing skirts, stuffing bras, wearing makeup and piercing ears. They run through the streets and then begin whipping each other. At first, the whipping/fighting was very organized, with the crowd making a large clearing and two men entering the clearing at a time to commence fighting. The fight was composed of two guys, both dressed up and both carrying whips. Then, they would start whipping each other. At some point (we never figured out how), the fight would stop. The main goal of each participant was not to cry or show emotion upon being whipped. after each fight, the men would crowd around the two fighters, dancing and seeing and yelling in celebration. After a few minutes of organized fighting, (as your may expect with boys/men), the organization disappeared as the boys all wanted to join in on the whipping fight. It was crazy, chaotic, but funny and fun and full of energy. It seemed like everyone was having a good time. Although, the whips were real; they broke real skin and created real wounds. I wasn't quite sure how I thought of this. It was an interesting traditional fete, and part of the culture. But at the same time, there is blood, potential infections, and tons of people all in close proximity to each other. But regardless, it was an interesting experience.

THE HOSPITAL

I’ve still been spending a lot of time at the hospital and I still love it there. There are so many women who are helped by the hospital. Although, I’m starting to realize how expensive it can be for people. I’ve been looking through people’s medical cards, which includes information on any analyses or medications or diagnoses and costs. Some of the things add up so quickly! Patients must pay for things like gloves and syringes. Also, Theres a lot of vitamin B and C being precscribed, which gave me the idea of maybe doing a nutrition sensibilization of some sort. Either with the staff or with patients. Because why should they buy vitamin B and C tablets when they may just need to make a few diet changes that may not cost much. Anyway, just ideas for now. I have a lot of ideas, and need to organize them and organize people before I do anything. I saw the most malnourished baby I've ever seen in my life. I have no idea how its still alive. It was 5 months old, but under 2kg. I am glad the mother took her to the hospital. It was Friday, the day when all mothers being their babies to the hospital to be weighed (monitored for healthy growth) and vaccinated. There are sooo many women and babies. So, usually I see about one or two malnourished babies each Friday.

WHEN HARRY MET SALLY

One of my peace corps volunteer-mates gave me the movie When Harry Met Sally for my computer. So, having this as the only movie at my disposal, I have watched it countless times. I've probably watched the first half at least ten times, but I've only seen the end maybe three times. (I tend to fall asleep during movies). Anyway, I now love this movie and know all the words (at least for the first hour-ish of the movie)

THANKSGIVING

About 50 peace corps volunteers all got together at a hotel in the Central region for thanksgiving. We had 4 turkeys, tons of mashed potatoes and gravy, green bean casserole, and tons of different pies and desserts. Oh my, it was one of my favorite meals of all time. Everyone made something and I was assigned green bean casserole. I had never made it before, but decided i would give it a shot. It looked completely awful; i did not even try it. It reminded me of the cat's throw-up from earlier in the week. So, needless to say, I did not taste any and upon arrival, I very discreetly placed it on the communal table, so no one would know that the cat-throw-up-green bean casserole was mine. But, by the end of the night it was gone! So, either people were drunk when they chose to eat it, or it was actually good! Anyway, I don't think I will make green bean casserole again.

SO,....October... long known as the month when the leaves are starting to change and the wind is getting a bit nippy and the frost comes to greet you every morning...

But, not here! It's not getting colder! It's getting hotter!! Here, October is the month when the torrential rains of rainy season begin to die out, leaving more sunny days and hotter weather, waiting for Harmatan’s winds to arrive. October is an in-between month. Not super rainy, but not dry. Hotter than rainy season, but not as hot as hot season.

And like the weather, my time has been in-between-ish. Not super new and exciting like the first months here, but not super knowledgeable about the community and health needs yet. Just, in-between, a work in progress, little by little. That's October. But, as always, while there are no extremely exciting happenings of October, there are the standard little things, and I have listed them below.

BUSH TAXIS:

Oh my. So, transport in Togo is completely different from Transport in any other place I've been to. There are a few buses roughly similar to the greyhound, in that there is a time schedule and a schedule of certain stops. But, usually, traveling is by moto or bush taxi. I love motos around Kante. I know a few good moto drivers, so I always call them when I need a moto around Kante. It is so much fun riding in a moto. Like an rollercoaster ride...(not one of the upside down rollercoaster's). Outside of Kante, they can be a bit annoying because you don't know the price or they want to overcharge you, which happens a lot in Kara. But, when you're not going within a town or between nearby villages, the best way (actually, pretty much the only way) to travel is bush taxi. Every peace corps person has many interesting bush taxi stories, some good ones and many bad ones (bad experience, but good story). The organization of the bush taxi realm is: there are many "gares' or "stations" around. generally, there is at least one in every fairly large town. This is where bush taxis hang out. They hang out here, advertising their destination, and wait till there are enough people to have a full car, and then they go. Now, one stipulation is that a car is considered full when there are four passengers in the back seat and 2 passengers in the front seat. (also in the front are the driver of course, and sometimes an apprentice driver. who's learning the bush taxi way). So, it's a super full car. each person pays a set price for their place in the car . And, that's how it works. A driver can have any destination that he wants. It's not regulated. like there's no 'boss" who assigns "routes". Also, since this is pretty much the only means of transportation, these cars take everything that someone may need to transport to another place (think: goats, cows, chickens, other animals, babies, baggage's, food, furniture, anything). So, often, you will see a bush taxi car (or van) carrying a load on its roof that is twice the cars size! It's pretty ridiculous. Bush taxis are often informal post office/delivery boys too. If you know a bush taxi that is going to pass through a small village where your buddy lives on its way to its destination, you can give the driver a package and hell find the buddy. Last time, I was in a bush taxi and we were driving along, and there were some guys along the side of the road. we stopped and the driver said something to them, and then they pointed us farther up the road. We then went a bit further, and stopped on the side of the road, and, a guy who was doing work in the fields, just came to the side of the road and we gave him a package and then drove away. To me, it seemed like the most random thing ever! Random bush taxi, random side of the road, random man, random package.. haha. Also, inherent in the theory of bush taxis, is the waiting period. If you want to go somewhere and you are the first person to arrive at the bush taxi, you need to wait until 5 other people show up who want to go to the same place. So yea, there is a lot of waiting. The longest I've had to wait so far is 2.5 hours. although I've heard much worse horror stories.

TRIP TO KARA:

So, about every month, I go to Kara. Kara is the capitol of the region (the region is also called Kara) and is the big city. The president hails from Kara so he's pumped a lot of money into the city, making it pretty and a fairly large central spot for businesses and stuff. I always have a good time in Kara; it is a central place for all the volunteers in the region to meet up and also has other Americans and other "yovo's" (the name for foreigners). But, my last time in Kara was super amazing. Why? There was a trampoline. And, I jumped on it. Haha. Like I mentioned, Kara is a hub of businesses and stuff in the north. This also includes missionaries. Peace Corps people in general have been buddies with the missionaries in Kara. Some of them work with the same AIDS/HIV organization that I work with. Anyway, a missionary couple invited a couple of us peace corps ppl over for dinner one night. And it was totally amazing. We had taco salad, and lemonade. and smores!!!!! real smores!!!! with real Hershey's chocolate!!!! AND, they have a trampoline in their yard! so Stacey and I saw it and got super excited and started jumping on it and just kept on laughing from the whole ridiculousness of the situation. Here we were, in Togo, with a church across the street, in the night, listening to the thunder in the distance, and just jumping on a trampoline. It was sooo much fun.

BUGS:

i've become an expert at killing bugs while reading i slap the book closed when a bug is in smooshing range. however, now all the books i read have flattened dead bugs on every page. i was happy to notice that some books already have the trade make flattened bugs and that means someone who read the book before me decided to flatten a bug the same way i did. peace corps comradery. also, i think i've developed my mom's talent for killing flies with a fly swatter.

HOT SEASON WORRIES:

So, right now, it is the end of rainy season. Next season on the list is Harmitan, and then hot season. But, since rainy season is on its way out, there has been more sun. And, to me, it feels super hot, even though it is not "hot season". this makes me a little worried about "hot season". I asked another volunteer if the past couple super sunny days are comparable to hot season and she laughed. Then she said that during hot season she would just lay on her mat, doing nothing, completely covered in sweat. Then, she tried to go into her water storage container to cool off, but she was too tall. So, that's what I know of hot season. Last night i swatted what i thought was a mosquito on my leg, only to realize it was sweat dripping down from the crease in my knee. at least during hot season i wont have to worry about mosquitoes!

FUFU:

September recently finished (obviously, seeing that it is october now), and September is Fufu season, so I'm worried that the fufu will finish soon. I love fufu. one week i somehow arranged it so i ate fufu everyday (people usually share whenever they make it, so you just need to know someone who's making it each day). It is a play dough type texture and you eat it with your hands and with spicy sauce. soooo gooood. The ignames that it is made from look like furry animals. They remind me of that cartoon, when the forest burns down, and there is a beaver with his family who are trying to escape the fire. Anyway, point of the story is: ignames, and therefore fufu reminds me of beavers.

FARTS:

when you fart, no one laughs or blames other people. they just continue on their normal day. My theory regarding this is that Gastrointestinal problems are more common here than in the states probably due a lot to sanitation (or lack there of). So, Farting here is far more common and therefore not something to be singled out as unusual and funny. But that's just my theory.

MICE:

there was a mouse in my house. the first mouse i saw in my house. I had been out with some people and when I got back, it was late and I was super tired, and went to check on the dog's food status, and saw something move out of the corner of my eye. The lighting was dim, so I thought there was a frog, jumping in one of my kitchen buckets. Then I started looking more closely and thought it was a strange frog. Maybe the frogs in Togo are different; i mean, i have not seen a frog up close yet here in Togo. Maybe the frogs had narrow heads and noses... and whiskers? NO! It's a mouse! There's a mouse in my house! I quickly threw something on top of the bucket to trap it in there, and did a quick run around the house to make sure there were no more mice hiding around the house, and then was so exhausted i went to bed. The next day, I mentioned it to the kids. however, i mispronounced mouse in French and they thought i said there was laughter in the bucket in the kitchen instead of a mouse in the bucket in the kitchen. but once that was cleared up with the help of some charades, they offered non-chalantly to take the mouse out of the house for me. They henceforth brought the bucket outside, threw the mouse on the ground, grabbed rocks and started chasing the mouse and throwing rocks at it. eventually the mouse was stoned to death and we all went back inside to continue making cookies.

SPIDER:

in other critter news, i saw a giant spider, that i will classify as a critter instead of an insect (although, are spiders classified as insects?. anyway, that's beside the point). but, i saw it running across the floor. I had been doing something completely different, and then once i saw that spotted super fast spider, my whole life's purpose became to find and kill this giant spider before it found and killed me. (realistically, it probably wasn't giant, but it was really big. like bigger than my palm- and spotted. i did not like it) so, i decided on a strategy and set to work. put on my flip-flops (flip-flops make you feel much more invincible and powerful than being barefoot) and i grabbed my Nigerian bug insecticide stuff that probably gives you cancer, jumped on a chair to get a good overall view of the room. aimed, and fired (aka sprayed the insecticide spray). unfortunately, the spider ran away into a corner. out of reach. then, right at that moment, Poppy (the dog) arrived.. I pushed him up to the spider until he saw it move. at first i thought this was going to be the solution and Poppy was going to save me. But, Poppy decided he was not interested in the spider and ran away outside. So, it was just the two of us: me and the spider. At this point, i think the spider gave up. It came out from its hiding place and stopped running so quickly, and i pointed and sprayed ..probably much more than was necessary. and the spider stopped, curled its legs under and turned a different color. then, just for good measure, i smashed it with a shoe. also today, and also in critter news, i caught a mouse. Travis had said that he saw a mouse when he was visiting, so the next day, i set up the mouse trap and sure enough, by the end of the day, there was a dead mouse! I went outside to toss it somewhere, and Papa saw me and ordered one of his sons to take care of it for me. i went back and set up the mouse trap again and soon afterward, heard a loud yelp and saw Poppy sprint out the door.

SCORPION:

So, One day, I was having a conversation with my friend Clementine, who works at AED. We were talking about snakes and scorpions. I mentioned in passing that I had never seen a scorpion (although actually I had seen one...one of my earliest memories as a kid in Hawaii). She said they come inside during hot season to escape the sun and they are not good, and that was about the end of the conversation. Anyway, about a month after this conversation, Clementine stops by my house with a guy who I had never seen before. She's holding sugar cane and a small cup, and i just assume she was chewing the sugar cane and just stopped by to say hi. So, I invite her in and offer her some water, but she just stands there and holds out a cup towards me. I look in and threes a scorpion! She had ran into a guy who had found a scorpion and brought him (and the scorpion) to me so I could see it! Its a pretty nasty looking bug about the size of a two of my thumbs (i have small hands). Another thing to look forward to during hot season.

FRUIT:

I made homemade grapefruit juice. Harvest time is just about now. And orange and grapefruit season is now, so you can get like a billion grapefruit and oranges for just a small amount. I bought 5 grapefruit for 100CFA, the equivalent of 20 cents. So, yea, I made juice with the grapefruit, citron, and citronella (you can boil the leaves in water). And it was soooo good. Also, in other fruit news. there are no berries here. No strawberries, no blueberries, no blackberries...you get the point. and no cherries either (for some reason I personally always classify cherries as a berry. even though i don't think they are)

OTHER VILLAGES:

i've been visiting other volunteers in the area. Betsy, who will be leaving soon lives out in Atalote, and Travis lives in Tchore. Both are small villages about 10/12 km away from Kante. It's amazing what you can learn from visit other peace corps volunteers, see what ingenuities they've come up with. After visiting people I now, add margarine to my oatmeal, Make popcorn as a snack, make nacho cheese dip (oh my god amazing), and other random things that just make life good.

TEXT MESSAGES:

Random Text messages i've received from Travis:

“Is it ok to eat moldy bread?”

“Wild monkeys!”

****This blog was written over the course of the month of mid-August to mid-September.****

So tonight I am lying in bed, with the strong smell of insect repellent imported from Nigeria (which is probably giving me cancer and destroying the enviro) and little cuts all over my fingers so it hurts to type. but, besides all these random little things (or maybe because of them), its been a good day. And, tomorrow is my one month anniversary of being in kante. I washed lots of clothes today, including some in boiling water (which I will remember to let cool before touching next time), and somehow I think that's how I got all these cuts on my hand. And, I washed my new puppy! Which was completely a riot! The kids came over to help, so there was a wet dog, and the Maxime, one of the kids, decided to “take a shower” too, with the dog.. ahha... There was so much water and soap, I just ended up washing the whole porch. Anyway, good day.

I have been at post for about a month now and am in the process of familiarizing myself with Kante, the hospital, AED, the people, all that stuff. The broad plan for the future is: the first three months that I am here, I will get to know Kante and the people and identify the needs and the resources here. Then, I can start planning and carrying out effective (hopefully) projects. This plan leaves me with a lot of liberty in how/when I go about discovering this town. So, in this blogpost, I hope to introduce you to my town through some of my initial stories and experiences here through my time spent at home, time spent at work, time spent between home and work, and finally random things.

So, Time at home: My home a house in a shared family compound. And within this compound, there is Papa, Clarisse, who takes care of Papa and is also a tailor, and a family with small kids. Now, there is also some of Papa's sons who recently returned from summer vaca, and there is (obviously) me, and my new puppy!!!! There is a pump in our compound in the yard, which is good. I have huge garbage-can-size storage containers for water in my kitchen and I use this water for everything (dishes, toilet, bath, laundry, food, drink...etc). So, every couple days, I use the water pump to fill up buckets of water and carry these into my kitchen to fill up the garbage can things. Doing this in addition to laundry-by-hand

I spend a good amount of time reading and writing. The girl I replaced left a wonderful shelf full of wonderful books! Even an immunology text book! So, I finished a couple books already, including Harry potter (except book number 5) and I'm currently reading 4 books, a history or AIDS type book, an intro to philosophy book (for when I'm in a deep-thinking mood), a David Sedaris book (a new fav author of mine...super funny), and the MCAT review book (because I miss biology). So basically, this shelf of books, in combination with a cup of tea and a fan pointed in my direction, is pretty much Barnes and Nobles and I love it.

But when I am at home and not working or reading, I am playing with the neighbors kids. There are three kids right next door: Maxime, a 4 yo boy, Blaise, a maybe 10 year old?. Solange, an 11/12-ish yo girl, and the baby, a

*****************************This blog was written at the beginning of August, but I didn't get a chance to post it until now****************************

August 5

So, this second month here in togo has passed by incredibly fast. I have just left the small training town, and am about to set off for the town of Kante, where I'll live for two years. Last night I could not sleep at all. First there was a funeral going on, and then there was a super huge rainstorm, and then just when i thought i would fall asleep a goat started making noise outside my room. finally i fell asleep, only to be woken up every hour by a cricket that found its way into my room. Oh well. Regardless, I will miss my old room and I'm going to miss my host fam and all the other volunteers who I have grown close to, but I am super excited to explore and begin the two years of service.

So, in this blog post, Ill go over: (1) about my post visit, which is the week I visited Kante, (2) some things I'm looking forward to and some things I'm nervous about regarding my move to Kante, (3) some recent happenings (aka: snake bite), and (4) a list of random occurances and interesting info I have learned about Togo that don't really fit into any other category.

So, what about Kante. Kante is a town, as opposed to a village, and is populated with about 12000 (maybe? although the last census was in 1981?...). Kante straddles the route national (the one road that goes from the south to the north of togo) and is set in the mountains of the Kara region.

So, to backtrack a bit, during our two months of training, we were given the opportunity to visit our "post", the place where we will be living and working. This week long visit was a sneak peak into what life will be like for the next two years and for that week, I lived in my future house, met people I will be working with, went to the market, and explored the town. And, long story short: I loved my post, and am super excited to spend two years there. The next couple points are just short descriptions of what I learned.

People: The main ethnic group of Kante is the Lamba people (they speak Lamba). But, Kante and the surrounding areas, (in general the whole northern part of togo) is a super crazy mixture of TONS of different people. And by "different people", I mean completely different: completely different languages, different looks, different cultures and beliefs. It totally blew my mind when we traveled to another nearby village, and my homologue, who is already multilingual, needed a translator to talk to some patients. People who have lived in the area their whole lives cannot communicate to some people about 30-50 kilometers away! I had no idea a place like this existed! And for those of you interested in how/why this is like this, wiki it (long story short (really short), colonialization + indigenious ethnic groups + some time with some conflict = Togo now).

Climate: 3 seasons. Rainy Season is now, and is not too hot (relatively speaking) and is incredibly gorgeous with green everywhere, but is humid. Harmitan (no idea how to spell that) is the season when the Sahara decides to move in (aka wind dust wind dust dry dry dry....but "cold"). Hot season is pretty self explanatory. The girl I'm replacing in Kante said that while she was here, the hottest she ever saw recorded was 126F. I can't wait to have a bucket shower after a day in hot season; I'm sure it will feel amazing.

Land: Mountains mountains mountains, and valleys too of course. AKA gorgeous. And the mountains are sooo strange. So unlike any other mountains I've seen before. When you look at them, there is an obvious division between mountain and valley.. It is like they are gumdrops that were just plopped down. But then, when we were driving, the mountains just seemed to disappear and I realized it was because we had slowly increased out elevation... I think. Also, in this area are the tata's in the Tamberma (not sure how to spell that) Valley, which are mud fortresses built by the Tamberma ppl. Apparently, this tatas fortress thing dates back to the 17th centrury when these people were at risk for being enslaved by the slave trade. When a man reaches a certain age, he shoots an arrow from his family's mud fortress, and where the arrow lands becomes the location of his own mud fortress. Also in this area are Baobab trees, of which I am a fan. I looooove baobab trees. They have a different look with every season, which i think is so cool, and they are just soooo huge! Their trunks remind me of dinosaur legs, which just makes everything exciting. Even during boring excursions, like buying toilet paper, I can pretend I'm in the movie jurrasic park just because of the dinosaur-legged baobab trees.

Animals: Monkeys! (aka food for some ppl), dogs (aka also food for some people), "football birds" (birds that are vagually shaped like footballs, and are therefore very tempting to kick like a football), your set of normal togolese animals running around: goats/chickens/lizards/etc.

My house: I live in a compound area with other families. I have electricity! Which completely surprised me! I was all set to live in a mud hut and cook outside on a fire. And, I have a refrigerator, which is just crazy talk. I am also hoping to get this thing called "internet"..haha. It's not like in the states where you have internet 24/7, it is like a pay by the hour internet thing. But (hopefully), I will be able to get it directly on my computer in my house, which is super cool.

So, some things I'm looking forward to and some things I'm nervous about. Well, I am sooo looking forward to just walking and running and biking all around the Kara (the Region where Kante is located) because it is just breathtaking. Looking forward to experimenting with cooking. There is a cookbook made by volunteers who have come through Togo called "Where there is no Whopper" (get it?....like the book "where there is no doctor?"). And, you can even make cookies here! In a frying pan! Super excited.... I'm looking forward to working in the hospital. My main job will be working with two groups: AED, a group that works with people living with HIV/AIDS, and the hospital. I love the people I've met at AED already. The girl I'm replacing did a ton of work getting them up and running, so I'll continue that. And, I think I'll love the hospital. It is a pretty large hospital, and I already saw quite a bit during my short tour there. Its interesting though, being at the hospital makes life and death seem much more ...objective... less emotional... more like death is a part of life and is just something that happens. I can't find the words right now but I hope that sortof gives you an idea. I'm sure its similar to a perspective that a medical professional has. Especially in Togo, where money is always an issue. If a family doesn't have the money for medicine, for a doctor, for a taxi o the doctor, the people just die. Sometimes, families will decide to spend money on a funeral rather than all the money it will take to save the life. So, its just different I guess. And I'm sure I'll be morphing my perspective constantly while I'm here.

Most of the things that I'm nervous about are just the normal things associated with any change: will I meet people? will i be overwhelmed? will i feel completely isolated? will i be ineffective? will i screw up something horribly? And, most of these just go along with the answer "c'est la vie; it will all turn out ok". So, I will just keep that in my mind all the time (which is pretty easy here because a lot of ppl say c'est la vie or la vie est toujours comme ca).

So anyway, moving on to point 3: recent happenings

Martin is back! He returned to Togo! So, we were all so happy to see him. When we first saw him, we gave him a HUGE group hug in the middle of the road. All the Togolese looked as us strangely (I think I mentioned before that Togolese don't really hug people a lot/ at all) Later, Martin received a similar group hug from tons of Togolese kids. So, now they probably think that all americans give super huge group hugs...haha.

Also, someone was bitten by a snake. It was really scary because most of the snakes here are poisonous and some of them dont have antivenoms and even if there is an antivenom, damage can be done if it isn't given in time. So, basically, one night, someone stepped on a snake (a baby black mamba), and it bit her. Once you're bit, you're not supposed to walk or to freak out (both will cause the venom to reach your heart faster). So, luckily, someone called out and a group of Togolese men came and carried her to the main peace corps center in the area and from there, a driver drove her to the hospital where there happened to be only one antivenom available. So within half an hour from the time she was bitten, she had the antivenom and even within that time she was in and out of consciousness a bit and her foot was pretty bad. So yea, scary. She is able to walk now (this happened 5 days ago) although it is still swollen and hurts. But man, you do not want to be bitten by a snake. moral of the story: do not step on snakes.

Finally, Here is a list of random things:

I went to a pool! There is a pool here! I was soooo incredibly super excited! I've never been so happy to be in a pool!

I went to the post office in Kante and they didn't have stamps available at that time

I saw a lizard fight

Pythons: in a southern region of togo, pythons are respected and are believed to hold the spirit of ancestors. So, killing pythons is a "no-no". If a python is found dead, then a funeral celebration is held (which cost a lot of money), as if the relative had just died. So, instead of killing pythons, you must get a stick, put the stick up to the python, and since the python a one of the kill-bye-strangulation snakes, it will wrap itself around the stick. Then, you can safely guide the python away from your room...or other place of safety. but, you must be careful that this is in fact a python; if you get your snake identifications mixed up, and it is a mamba instead of a python, then that stick will aggravate it, and then you will end up needed to make funeral preparations anyway-for yourself! my strategy will be: scream. then, someone else will come and know whether its ok to kill or not.

I cut my hair super short and I look like my mom now (that's a compliment to myself).

I learned how to make french toast with ingredients here.

funerals take all night here.... there's music alllll night....

Ok, that's all for now folks!

Togo Togo! Thats what we say as "cheers" whenever we are sharing a warm beer (because there are no cold beers in town).

So, I am in Togo now! I have been here for awhile, but internet is hard to come by. Hence, the infrequency of these blog updates. Right now I am in a small town without electricity or potable water. I live with a wonderful host family, made up of a host mom, many brothers and a few sisters…and some babies, who are all super cute. Actually, Rolande, the youngest, just started to walk for the first time about a week ago! She walks sideways, like a crab..haha. Alex, who’s about three, is a little trouble maker, and has recently discovered that I can pick him up spin him around. I think I got him in trouble with his mom the other day because he was so dizzy from spinning, that he fell in the sand and got everything dirty. I’m closest with my brother Eugene, and when I’m not at class or playing with my the toddlers of the fam, I’m usually hanging out with Eugene playing cards or talking (aka: trying to speak French). EWWW…. I just looked beside me and there is one of those super big cockroaches! p.s. im in bed now, but luckily the cockroach is outside my mosquito net. AND, speaking of bugs, there is was a super huge spider in my room last night. I happened to notice it when I turned on my headlamp. And, I tried to kill it, but it jumped (yes…jumped) away and into this crevice in the wall really high where I couldn’t reach or see….so there is a giant spider in my room somewhere…. I just make sure my mosquito net is tucked in allll the time. I don’t mind the bugs…. I just don’t like the thought of them crawling on me while im sleeping. I'm still a little paranoid right now because we just had a 3 hour lecture about all the different "stings and bites" we may possibly/probably encounter here, in Togo. This included the fly that can grow inside your skin and eventually burst through and fly away. That's the one I want least. Although, actually, as long as it doesn't do any real damage to you (which apparently it doesn't), and as long as you can get over the gross-factor (which I think I can), it would be ok. So, I wont freak out if I get it, but my goal is to prevent it (aka be wary of damp clothes....hhahaah thats a joke.. everything is damp here). So, if I get it I'll let you know!

Ok, sorry for the tangent about bugs. I think in this blog post I’ll talk about (1) lifestyle changes that I’ve noticed, (2) my post!!! (3) people I’ve met and (4) recent things...some sad news and some happy news and (4) how much I miss all of you.

So, regarding living. Well, it is very hot here. The heat and humidity is just something I get used to. It is like DC in the summer all the time (without AC). I am constantly sweating when I move and when there is no wind, but that is something I’ve gotten used to already. However, because of this, I had heat rash for a steady 3 weeks my torso and I get some type or fungal growth where my elbow bends (which a good chunk of athletes foot medicine seems to take care of). Also, because there's no electricity or plumbing, we get water from a well, I use a latrine, take cold bucket showers (which feel AMAZING after running in the morning), sterilize all water, use a kerosene lamp….. its basically like car-camping. On a normal day, I wake up, go to the latrine (after making sure there are no giant cockroaches close enough to touch my butt), go running with one or two other peace corps (PC) ppl, take a bucket shower, eat breakfast (coffee and bread…or if my host mom is in a great mood homemade banana donuts!!!!...and my host mom just got hot chocolate mix from ghana!!!) and then go to class (French, nutrition, safety, culture, peace corps policy, hiv/aids, reproductive health, malaria,……). The "going" to class is an experience in and of itself; I say bye to everyone at home, the toddlers high-five me, then say bonjour to everyone i meet on the way to class (like 30ish ppl). I come home for lunch, (rice and beans or tomato spicy sauce or fried plantains or fufu or pate rouge or fish; I’ve been taking pics of the different foods, and whenever I can I will post them to facebook or here) and then go back to class, then come home for dinner and hang out with my family, usually playing cards. I am in bed by 9 (though I read or journal or do homework for awhile afterwards) and wake up at 5 (its impossible to sleep in till 6….). Also, whenever I go anywhere, I say Bonjour to EVERYONE. Haha.. if you don’t they think something is wrong. So, I pretend that I am belle from beauty and the beast and say Bonjour Bonjour Bonjour Bonjour Bonjour (like in the first song in the movie….). Some other random life things: there are bugs everywhere, there are animals everywhere, when it rains it pours all of a sudden, a lizard fell on my friend (really funny), the town is always alive; its never quiet, i went to the "dancing church" (they sing...so amazingly...and dance! all the women dance in front of everyone and then the men, and then the little kids!), the stars are super bright, funerals last allllll night (the whole town can hear the singing of a funeral allllll night), I saw (and pet) a hedgehog!, you know who's winning the soccer match by the noise that comes from the far far bar, my friend had a green mamba in his bedroom during first week (thats actually an uncommon thing here, so no worries...apparently all the neighbors ran over and machete'd it and continued to hit the snake body with a rock-thing for awhile after it was dead.), everyone laughs (i think a lot of times at me and my cultural faux pas..haha).

So, my post!!!!!!! OK, first I will explain a little about the timeline for Peace Corps. First, 29 of us-encompassing the business (SED) and health (CHAP) volunteers, went to Togo. We stayed for about a week in Lome, the capital, where we had shots, basic health info, and super basic language. Then, all the CHAP ppl went to a small village to live with host families and the SED ppl went to a big town to live with host families. In these towns, we attend classes and get trained-culturally and technically, for nine weeks. Then, we each move to a separate village or city where we will spend the next two years working. Every village/city has different needs and has requested a PCV for certain reasons. So, your “post” placement depends on interviews and your background: technical, language, religion, health……lots of things. But, they basically try to match the village/ville’s needs with your abilities. So, for awhile we were held in suspense, waiting to find out our posts. And we did! And mine is a city in the Kara region, which I’m super excited about. Since it’s a city, it’s a site for AIDS/HIV goings-on and since its in the north, they have crazy dry seasons, so that food is an issue…. So basically, it can potentially combine both HIV/AIDS and nutrition work, which is exactly what I wanted. Also a plus, is that I get to work with a hospital and a doctor! (both of which are pretty rare in togo), There is an up-and-coming AIDS/HIV group, a couple schools, a midwife who is the head midwife for the whole region (so….projects with reproductive health) and I think also has a moringa plantation-thing… and just a ton of other things. Oh, and a Red Cross that has requested some PCV help. It sounds like a dream come true. I can have so much to do! Also, I am close to a good number of other PCVs, including both Travis and Lizzie, both of whom i spent the last month with. Also, apparently there is a GEE (girls education and empowerment) PCV right in Kante too…and some NRM (natural resource management) PCVS nearby too, which means: (1) instant friends and (2) collaborating on projects! So, that’s my post! I am super excited, if you couldn’t tell already. In about a week, I'll be doing "post visit" (a week living at post), so I'm super excited about that.

Anyway, next on the list: people! So, like I mentioned above, there were 29 of us who came to Togo together. Since then, we’ve split into SED (business) and CHAP (health…community health and hiv aids prevention). So, there are 16 CHAP-ers, 8 girls, 8 boys (a first, usually CHAP-ers are women), and we’ve been spending the greater portion of every waking hour together since we’ve been here, which is pretty cool, because it feels like I’ve known them for years. We all have gone through good days and bad ones…. Actually, for most of us, its like good hours and bad hours. Peace Corps really is like an emotional roller coaster, and I knew I was getting on that ride, but still, some hours are harder than others. Most of the hard parts just stem from language frustrations and sometimes feeling unsure/unstable in this different culture. Its so important, at least for me, to maintain a broad perspective and just laugh at myself a lot. Anyway, the other volunteers are a super support network. We are all from such different backgrounds too…from all over the US and with travels all over the world. It will be a little sad when we go to post, because some volunteers will be like a 10hour bush taxi drive away from me. Oh well. Such is life. A couple volunteers were interested in doing the Ghana marathon with me next year! I’m super excited. I didn’t realize that running was “ok” here, and was all set to give it up, but now that I know its do-able, I’m going to start training for the Ghana marathon! (p.s. about Ghana. Apparaently, Ghana is the land of plenty… and I believe it! They have sushi and shopping malls and movie theaters and milkshakes…and they speak English..its just like America! Some PCVs went on vaca there and when they crossed back into togo, the border ppl were so confused as to why they chose to live in togo,, instead of Ghana. Look…even my auto spell check recognizes that Ghana deserves a capital letter, but has forgotten togo. Poor togo. I still love you! Togo!!! There’s your capital letter!)

So, regarding recent news: I mentioned there was both good news :) and bad news :(. We'll do good news first. My french has been coming along marvelously, which I am super excited about. Although, there is still so much work to be done. Some days feel like I'm swimming upstream in terms of french, but, today I had a bit of a pat on the back. I had to give a presentation-all in french- about my background, my post, what the PC is, what type of work I am hoping to do...that kind of stuff. And it went really well! I was super nervous, but the trainers were so proud of us. Afterwards, we went to celebrate at the "far far bar" (the bar that's farther away that the bar that's far away) and on the way we saw a hedgehog, which just made my good day even better. And, I started to learn another language called Lamba....which is a super cool language...im really excited about it. Its a little difficult because there are new characters and sounds that I've never used before...but it sounds so fascinating. I wish i was fluent. Alafia! So yea, that's the good news. Now the bad news. (wow....so weird, right when I typed that, the sound of rain on my roof just increased exponentially; at least I wont hear any potential sounds that potential cockroaches are making in my room). So, Lisa broke her leg...really badly. Less than a week ago, we were playing soccer, and she got hit and fell and was in a ton of pain. Luckily, the van was nearby and she went to the city (where they have ice) and was able to RICE (rest,ice,compression,elevation-thats for you caity!...although she didnt do the C bc it hurt her too much), until she could get to Lome. She's back in the US now and we miss her a lot! Hopefully she will come back in 4-6 months when she is all better! Then, just yesterday Martin left. His father..in the US..passed away suddenly. A group of us were sitting together, talking, when we heard the news. We were all shocked...and sad. All of us are away from home now, and that is probably our greatest fear.... And knowing that it happened to one of us, just shook us all. We miss Martin, and hope he can come back soon. Our group is close, and we're here to support him. A lot of people tried to call home afterwards. We all missed our fathers.. and families.. suddenly.

And, now for the final thing! I miss you all! So much! I swear, I dream of home ..Cashtown home and Rockville home.. and you guys almost every night. Although some of my dreams are SUPER weird…the malaria medicine that I’m taking has weird dream side effects. It’s funny talking to the other PCVs about dreams. One girl had a dream that we had been here for 4 years and hadn’t eaten chocolate for 4 years, and Andy exposed the fact that I was really made out of chocolate, so everyone was fighting over who got to eat my pinky first. Hahah… that’s a mefloquine dream for you. And a few nights ago, I somehow got completely flipped and disorientated in my bed and when I went to get out in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, stepped out of bed (after pulling the mosquito net out), and hit a wall... i was so confused.. i had gotten out on the wrong side of my bed. But really, I hope you all are enjoying the summer. I hope you are hiking and camping and cookout-ing, and beach-ing. I would love to hear from you all. Letters are really slow. The ones ive received were postmarked 3 weeks before I received it. I’ve written some too and unfortunately, there is no post office in my town, so I wait until the weekends to mail them (although I couldn’t mail any last weekend, because I went on Sunday and forgot they close on Sunday). But, communication, in all forms, should improve once I am at post, which will be August5 - or 6 i think? Well, I’m going to save this on my USB, and hopefully be able to get to an internet café and connect and upload this blog post this weekend. Internet is such an ordeal…it took me 40-ish minutes to figure out how to read and send gmail last time. LOVE YOU ALL!!!!! and I MISS YOU ALL SOOO MUCH!!!!!!!

p.s. happy fourth of july!

With just one month left to go before Staging, I'm beginning to feel those hits of nervousness a little more often. But, they are still surrounded by mountains of excitement! I have a huge list of things to do; Though, most of the important things like prescriptions and student loans are well underway, so I think I have little to worry about. I just need to remember that everything I need is in Togo! (its ok if i forget anything.. i can just be creative or figure out how to get it there) I just need to go to Togo! (haha..i still crack up everytime i say "to go to Togo").

I am so excited, happy, and relieved. Ever since I found out about the peace corps, I've wanted to go and now it is finally happening! And beyond that, it seems like I have the exact position that I was hoping for! I'll be working for Community Health and HIV/AIDS Prevention (CHAP) program, which works a lot with education in terms of (obviously) health and HIV/AIDS, and (not-so-obviously) nutrition (yay!), diarrheal disease, malaria, and possibly this most interesting parasite called the guinea worm. My official title is "Public Health and HIV/AIDS Education Technical Advisor" (i thought it was a super long title too..haha) Of course, so I hear, this description is very vague and my position will be whatever I make of it. So, right now, I'm straddling this uncomfortable fence; I want to have expectations, but at the same time don't. I instinctively want to prepare myself so that I can know whatever I need to know to be most beneficial and easily adaptable and fit into the community.. haha which sounds funny saying because there is no way i am going to fit into the community; I'm white, blond hair, blue eyes, freckles. But regardless, I want to "culturally" fit in, make friends, etc.. it will be an interesting experience :)

I'm excited to be in a completely new life; it's that thrill-type of excitement, almost the feeling I had jumping out of an airplane..now who wouldn't love that?! Of course I'm going to miss everyone sooo much, and the only reason why I hesitated in my response to the Peace Corps invitation was for that reason. But, that's what this blog is for! and the many letters that I plan to write (and receive...cough cough..that's where you come in).

so, i suppose I will make a list, since I am a list-maker, and this is the list:

things I'm nervous about: not knowing french well and being unable to learn french fast enough, not being "good" enough, like in terms of my job there, not knowing enough or not knowing how to do things, not being what my community wants me to be... also, I'm not necessarily *nervous* about missing my fam/friends, but i am nervous that the specific feeling of missing them will make me do something irrational, like go home.

things I'm super excited for: the unexpected, all these new things (bucket showers, learning languages, learning what Togolese care about, learning what they think of health, what normal life is for them, learning what they think of Americans), starting fun activities (i talked to a peace corps person who started a yoga class in her town that continued even after she left...and a PC person organized a marathon...which seems like it might be a little hot to do in Togo...), meeting other Americans who are crazy enough who want to go to Togo (haha), working with other ppl in Togo, meeting Togolese ppl, meeting ppl in general, overcoming super challenges (like superantigens!..sorry.. science humor)

So, anyway, this is my first blog post ever; I hope it was entertaining. Actually, not really, I am just procrastinating on the last immunology final paper that I need to write and watching the office. I had a long day at work, a long day after work doing peace corps things, and the immunology paper is just looming over my head. I am just ready to go... I feel like I am running through mud (haha...I actually just had a race through the mud) trying to finish everything before I go. It is funny to think of myself in Togo. I am sure, if I read this blog entry in Togo, the whole immunology/the office situation will seem so surreal to me (oh, I will miss the office...and immunology).

So, here it goes! Let's jump off this plane! Off to Togo!!