Saturday, December 25, 2010
Joyeux Noel!
I think this is going to be the most unusual Christmas ever, but I’m looking forward to it just the same. After a month of Mogou (with a couple breaks up to Dapaong), I’m ready to kick back at my friend’s house with some running water, electricity, and vegetables. She’s been a great hostess: overhead shower, yogurt, vegetable soup, Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations”… it’s been quite the vacay, and it’s just started. It was so nice to talk to my fam and hear about the snow and Christmas-y things. It was about 90 degrees again today, and since her town is about 80% Muslim, it’s not exactly “beginning to look a lot like Christmas.” But we’re celebrating just the same. I splurged and bought 2 music video DVD’s: Toofan and Akon. We jammed to “On va vous deloger” all afternoon, which roughly translates to “Our music is so good it’s gonna drive you out of your houses.” I love how French has a verb for that. But anyways, tomorrow we’re killing a chicken and making chicken fajitas, decorating the house, and probably singing “Deloger” all day. A very joyeux Noel.
To update, Mogou is going well. It’s been slow moving, but I’m getting more and more comfortable living there. I had quite the pump saga, which is actually still continuing, but is getting better. There are 6 pumps in Mogou, 3 of which are functional right now, for 2,000 people. With the end of rainy season, the creeks dried up and the pressure on the pumps is really starting to be noticeable. There were a couple days in a row in which I couldn’t get water because there were too many people at the pump (so my water girl told me—don’t worry, I’m still too wimpy to carry all that on my head across town). So I talked to Affaires about it, and the next day he had organized meetings to discuss fixing two of the broken pumps. Great! Let’s get to it.
Pumps in Mogou come with committees, I’ve found out, so we met with the committees and discussed what was broken, where we can get parts, and how much it’s all going to cost. Unfortunately for the pump closest to my house, the part is a $40 cable that may or may not be in Lomé (the secretary of the committee is going to call his brother down there and see what he can find). At one point during one of the meetings, (after we had decided that families with multiple wives did in fact have to contribute more to the fundraising for new parts) someone turned to me and asked, “Damigou, what does your village do when the pump breaks?” Ummm, call the plumber? Togo is teaching me more and more about what I don’t know about infrastructure. Similarly, after contemplating my gas stove, which runs off of a tank that I have to refill, I asked my parents how the gas gets to our stove in our house in America. And why don’t we have to turn the gas off when we’re done? Gas lines, I’m told, that run underground all over the country. And then there’s a meter that says how much we use. Magic! Stuff I should have thought about more… or should have asked Carrie about.
Besides problemes d’eau, I’ve been doing lots of hangin’ in Mogou. I’ve been to all the churches and the mosque, and even the Catholic churches’ picnic last Sunday. They had a clothes auction to raise money for the church, and some ladies made rice and beans and tchakba. So fun.
It was exams last week, so the director of the CEG asked that I not come up to the school because the students would be distracted. Fair point. When I head back this week it will still be winter break, so my activities will have to resume after New Years. Have I mentioned I have a chicken? Her name is Eloise, and I’m planning on cooking her up for New Years. It sounds kind of like Halloween: people come to your house to greet you, and you serve them food and drinks, and then they continue on to the next house. I might hand Eloise over to my neighbor to cook… she actually knows what she’s doing with la sauce. I’ll let you know how it all goes!
Happy Holidays to everyone! I’m thinking about you and sending all my good vibes westward. Daz, I totes thought of you the other day when I was having a moment… Forward, forward, forward! ; ) THANK YOU for the letters! Megan, I’m writing back as soon as humanly possible!! I miss you all tons and will post again soon! Xoxox
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Welcome to Mogou
Good morning, Mogou! I’m working on getting used to my new routine: which involves waking up at 5:45 am. Which, come to think of it, isn’t that much different from my old routine…
It’s Harmattan season right now, which means "cold" and windy. People wear winter coats and ski caps in the mornings. I was really curious how cold it actually was when I woke up shivering, so I checked my thermometer: 71 degrees. And by 5:45 I was late and had already missed a visitor: the girl who does my laundry and gets water for me from the pump on the other side of town. In my head, I had grand designs of fetching all my water, doing all my laundry, and cooking all my meals for myself… reality set in pretty fast. Cooking a meal (that I actually want to eat) is enough of a challenge to keep me preoccupied. I bought a bottle of ketchup in Dapaong that has saved a few meals this week.
I’ve learned quite a lot since moving to post. Number one: while “Girl With the Dragon Tattoo” is a really excellent book, it’s about serial killers. DO NOT read this book at night, in a house all alone, by candlelight… thought I was going to die. I’m going back to “Last of the Mohicans.” It’s at just a high enough literary level that even it there are scary parts, I’m sure they’re lost on me. Number two: Mogou is getting electricity! The electricians have been here from Lomé for the past two weeks, and they tell me they’ll be done by New Years. Really though, besides charging my computer, I don’t have much need for electricity. Mom sent me a really baller solar charger that can charge my cell phone up to full battery after about 6 hours of being in the sun—just two days of repos. And I go through my full battery about every 3 days, so it works out perfectly. I have another smaller solar charger I use for my iPod, and that’s it. I am, however, looking forward to what other people are going to do with the electricity. TVs? Refrigerators? This could mean a whole new world of food and information availability in Mogou. I have absolutely no idea what’s going on in the world right now, and have been craving yogurt for days.
It’s been really fun slash nerve-wracking getting settled in my house. I ordered furniture from the town carpenter, which is all done and looks… solid, at least. I’ve got a large bookshelf that I’m using as a dresser, and I had him put pegs on the sides so that I can hang some stuff. The cement walls are kind of tripping me up. I wanted to put nails into the walls to hang curtains over my door and front window, so I asked my neighbor if he had a hammer that would work for cement walls? Is there such a thing? I didn’t know the word, so I just said “Can you help, I don’t have the right *hand motion like I’m using a hammer*”. “Oh, right, you don’t have the strength for that! I’ll come help, I put up the curtains in my house, I know what to do.” So he shows up with a rock. And pounds the nail into the concrete wall, with the rock. Well heck, I guess I could have done that. I asked him to borrow the rock, and finished the job. I was feeling so pleased from how handy I was, I then decided to sew my own curtain for my bedroom door. Well, it’s up. It’s a curtain. As it turns out, Mom, my hand sewing skills are still just as good as they were when you taught me at age 8 : ) I’ll be leaving my front door and window curtains up to the couturière.
The really fun part, though, has been every time I walk out of my compound. Just when I start to get bored or frustrated with something (like my terrible sauce d’arachide), it’s time for me to go and meet up with someone or go do something, and that’s what turns my day around. Yesterday was World AIDS Day, but unfortunately I was not organized enough to put anything together. So I went with Affaires to Brotouga, a neighboring village, to supervise elections for their CVD: Village Development Committee. It’s kind of like a local government, in collaboration with the chief and other local officials, and they’re in charge of all new development projects. The whole process took all morning, mainly because of the time it took to translate French-Gangam. The coolest part was the actual voting. All the candidates for a position would stand in a row, and then the village members got up and stood behind whomever they wanted to vote for. Literally, standing behind their candidate. Affaires had a lot of sway over who was nominated, and thus convinced the people of Brotouga to elect women, young people, and members of the often-excluded Fulani ethnic group to the 9-person committee. All in all, a really interesting experience.
Then, yesterday afternoon, I met with the girls from the CEG (middle school) to talk to them about starting a girls’ club. There are 48 girls officially enrolled (out of 300 total students), and about 20 of them came to the meeting: the perfect size for a club. I don’t know how much they really understood of what I said… I got kind of nervous actually talking to them and choked on my French a bit, but I think they just liked being in the same room as “the American,” and they all were really enthusiastic about the idea of a club. We’ll try again next week.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Happy Thanksgiving, everybody!!
I know it’s been forever since I’ve posted… I’d first like to blame how busy things have been, and second blame my own rapidly decreasing dependence on the internet. I can’t believe how much time I used to spend online in my American life. But I’m here, so update!
As of November 18th, I am officially a sworn-in Peace Corps Volunteer. We had a big ceremony in Lomé at the U.S. Ambassador’s house, complete with Togolese media coverage. Each stagiaire gave a speech in their local language (for about a minute), and we all raised our right hands and promised to “protect and defend the Constitution from all enemies”… a pretty hefty charge, I think. Our host families came too, and it was sad to say goodbye. I gave them a parting gift in Tsevié: a live chicken. It was quite the ordeal. I went to the marché with about 4 other girls to buy chickens, and although none of us had the slightest clue what to do, we tried to pretend we knew what we were doing to get a good price. Then we had to carry them home by the feet… I got about 4 meters away from the chicken stand before I got a bag for mine. But my fam was really pleased with it, (and the Frisbee I gave the kids). I also gave them a lil bag of Cheez-its that Mom and Dad sent. True fact: cheez-its are not a universal taste. They were so excited to try them (American snacks!!), and then promptly spat them back out. Oh well.
Lomé was about the 3 most stressful days I’ve spent in Togo so far. The swearing-in ceremony hit me like nothing else has yet. It was just finally so real: Two years! In Mogou! After the oath and speeches, they opened the bar and people went nuts over the free food and drinks. Pictures left and right, so many hugs and people… I was freaking out. But as Christina says, people are other people’s medicine, and my friends got me through. The next day was banking, shopping, and eating. I had a real hamburger! So delicious. But again, it was all a blur and I was worried the whole time I wouldn’t have everything I needed. Saturday morning I was not ready to leave, but they packed us into the vans and we started our 10 hour drive north.
So now I’m really living in Mogou! Post visit week was a series of “Wow, this village is the best!” and “OMG I hate it here,” so these last 3 days I’ve had time to take a step back and analyze Mogou with a level head. Tuesday was marché day. The people of Mogou, when asked, will tell you that you can find “everything!” in the Mogou marché. But then you say “Well how about tomatoes? Or a bucket?” and they say “Oh no, not that.” In reality, the marché is mainly tchakbalo: a local drink made of fermented millet. And dead yovo stuff (meaning second hand goods from America and Europe… they are of such ‘bon qualité’ that people can’t believe yovos parted with these clothes, etc. willingly). So, I’ll be spending more time than I thought biking over to Gando, about 15 km away, to go to their marché.
It was also vaccination day at the dispensaire (health clinic) for the kids. Measles, vitamin A, and two more that I’m not sure what they are in English. Definitely NOT like vaccinations in America. The day was sponsored by WHO and UNICEF, so it was free for the kids, but as a result people showed up in droves. The mothers were literally banging down the door to the dispensaire, trying to get in. It was marché day after all, and they had shopping to do. And what if they ran out. Luckily, I was put on form filling out, not crowd control. The place was a mad house all day… I had the sound of screaming children ringing in my ears for hours after. No suckers, no stickers. No smiling doctors telling you it’ll all be over soon. It was line up, hold the kid’s arm tight, pass the paper along and move out. But, better than measles, I guess.
I’m still figuring out what to do for food… we’re a lil low on veggies up here in the north. And long on millet. And there is no Trader Joes...my reliance on that place becomes more apparent everyday. As for right now, Affaires Sociales and I have a plan set up that goes like this: for 2/3 days, I eat Luna bars, oranges, and rice, and he drinks tchakbalo, then usually on the third day someone in the village gifts me a chicken or guinea fowl. He cooks it, and we eat it. I’m hoping to break this cycle with trips up to Mango and Dapaong. Like today!
I’m in Dapaong with the rest of the Savanes volunteers. We woke up to the sound of our turkey gobbling in the yard… it feels like a very real Thanksgiving. Brett made like 3 pumpkin pies, and Christy and I are in charge of mashed potatoes. Yummm.
I hope you all are doing well, and I miss you like crazy!! Please write/ send packages ;-) to my new P.O. box in Mango: Ellen Van Cleave, B.P. 102, Mango, Togo, West Africa. LOVE!!
Damigou
I survived post visit! Which was more of an accomplishment than I had anticipated. Mogou is awesome, and I’m really happy to be there, but it is not without a couple challenges. First of all, it’s about an hour by moto to the route nationale (the big paved road that runs up and down Togo). There is also no cell reception… yet. They were building the tower the week I was there: by hand. Like guys carrying large metal beams, scaling a half-built cell tower. It is so impressive watching people build things without serious equipment. Anyways, besides the far-away from it all-ness, Mogou is great. The people are so stoked to have a PCV and seem totally on board with the promotion and education de la fille. And my homologue is a God-send. He’s the social affairs agent (people in the village call him ‘Affaires Sociales’) for the canton of Mogou, so he’s already doing a lot of GEE work on his own, which is awesome. I think for the first month or two, I’m just gonna shadow him around and watch him at work. I had a series of defining moments during post visit week… I guess I’ll go in sequential order.
Number one: not in Kansas anymore. My homologue de contact (a guy from the village who came to get me in Tsevié) and I arrived at about 9:30 pm—very very late at night for a town where the nearest electricity is about 20 kilometers away. But never the less, about half the village was awake and ready to greet me! There was a large crowd of women singing and dancing outside my new house, and all the kids helped unload my stuff from the van. Then they pulled me into a circle of people to watch the chief kill me a chicken. Affaires Sociales told me that a white chicken means welcome, and after they cut its neck, if it flaps around a lot, that is a sign of luck and good things to come. It flapped a lot. Then he asked if we do the same thing to greet visitors where I’m from. Nope, it’s a lil different.
Defining moment number two: when I realized what I’ll actually be doing for the next 2 years. Affaires and I were on our way to a meeting in the next village over, and we saw a girl who was about 10-12 years old walking on the path. Affaires stopped her and asked why she wasn’t in school, and she explained. She was actually from Dapaong, about a 2 hours drive north, but her brother brought her down to Mogou to get married. Well Affaires wasn’t about to stand for that. He brought her into town along with the brother and the fiancé, sat everyone under the big tree and worked out a contract. The girl would get to go back to Dapaong, go to school, and best of all, not get married. Good work, Affaires! Then he told me how forced marriage was a big issue in the area, and that he has to deal with it often. In Mogou proper, the middle school has 250 boys and 48 girls. In the nearby village, the ratio is just as skewed even in the primary school. So I think the majority of my work is going to be on getting girls to go to school and then stay in school. But we’ll see. Affaires told me he’s going to let me see for myself exactly what’s going in on Mogou, come to my own conclusions, etc. It’s going to be interesting, that’s for sure.
I have a village name! Damigou. Meaning “God/the Ancestors Protect Her.” For the swearing-in ceremony, I’m giving a 2-minute speech in Gangam, pretty much just saying my name, where I’m from, where my post is, and what I’ll be doing there. I’m really excited for swear-in: there’s a big party at the U.S. Ambassador to Togo’s house, all our host families will be there, and we’re gonna be looking fly in our complets. I heard a rumor that if you fan/ friend Peace Corps on Facebook, you’ll get to see pics from our swear-in… try it out! I’m thinking about all y’all a bunch, and hope things are going well! Take care : )
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Test Day
This morning we had our mid-training language test, and the day progressed into a real turning point for me in general. In preparation for poste visit, I needed to buy a small charcoal stove to cook meals for the week. I think when I move to Mogou after swear-in, I’ll really live it up and get a gas stove, but just for the week I’ll get by with charcoal. So this afternoon, after my Gangam lesson, Maman sent me down to the route with Valerie, one of the domestiques, to buy said stove. We got to the road and Valerie turns to me and says, “Ok, do you want to go visit my school first and then get the stove, or get the stove and then visit my school.” “Visit your school?” “Yeah, it’s right there, and all my friends really want to meet you.” “Um, ok, school first, then stove?” And off we went. It’s a small private school, and not all the students have class Tuesday afternoon, apparently. But those who were there were, indeed, happy to see me. “Ahhh Valerie! Make her say ‘my name is’ again in Ewe!” “Hélène, you must give me your bandana! I want this. You must give it to me! Please, we are such good friends! Ahh what’s this? (my antibacterial hand gel) And this?? (my watch) And this! (my hairtie) No really, give me your bandana.” I looked to Valerie for help, but to no avail. “Hélène,” she called, “come meet this guy and say ‘my name is’! He’s from Cote d’Ivoire.”
After about 20 minutes of that, we rounded up a posse and headed off to get the stove. Valerie decided she would haggle for me. Before we left, Maman had told me not to pay more than 2 mille (about $4), so we agreed that was my highest price. On the walk over, Jacqui and Agathe (Valerie’s friends), kept up with the questions. “You must buy me that coconut! And that meat on a stick! Or just give me money. Yes, you must give me money.” All these weeks of practicing our canned lines in French finally came in handy. “Actually, I’m a volunteer. I’m not paid. I don’t have very much money… I only have enough for a stove.” So then they decided they would just call me. Or stop by the house, cuz we were friends now.
We got to the stove store, expertly disguised as a motorcycle, bike, and car repair shop. There was a group of about 5 teenage boys welding a small stove, and then around 5 men sitting and talking under the tree. Valerie asked about the stove. “Oh yeah, they’re almost done with one! It’ll be ready really soon. Please, sit and wait!” They brought out a chair. The guy in charge, Koffi, started off. “Yovo! What’s your name? Hélène? Oh that’s great! Are you married?” I told him yes. “That’s ok! You can get a divorce and marry me instead!” “Ok, Koffi, but you need to be able to cook me American food. Hamburgers. Do you know how to make those?” “Oh, sure! Anything for the daughter of Obama! Where are you from?” “Wisconsin.” Confused look. “Chicago.” “Oohhhhh! Chicago! You really are Obama’s daughter! I’m so happy you are my wife. Hey you! Come here and meet my new wife.” It continued on like this for an hour. I was renamed in Ewe, and I explained who I was and what I was doing, including explaining Peace Corps, Girls Education and Empowerment, and my poste in Mogou. I met at least 6 or 7 of Koffi’s “brothers,” (hopefully) politely refused a coconut, yams, and beans and rice, argued in favor of Chicago versus Texas, and tried to understand this one guy’s opinion on Washington’s supposed anti-agriculture policy (?? “They see the tomatoes and say ‘Go away! You are from Africa! All of the produce is expensive. But in Texas, they like tomatoes. Same with the corn. But Obama, he is like Mandela in South Africa. He will help the tomatoes.” ???) I kept looking to Valerie, expecting her to react like one of the other stagiaires would, but of course for her this was all normal, albeit with a few more Obama references. And I realized that this was about to be my normal, too.
Finally, the stove was done, and the tallest kid brought it out to discute the price. “4 mille.” “What! No way. Deux mille,” returns Valerie. He won’t budge. My hubby Koffi comes over to save the day. “What will she say, when she goes back to America! Those Togolese, they were so mean, they charged me very high prices.” “But this is a quality stove! And I rushed to finish it for her!” “So she will take this stove back to America and tell everyone there where she got it, and you will have a good name for yourself. You can’t just charge her more because she’s a yovo! I see that all the time on the street! Some yovo walks down the street and all the vendors say ‘aha! I will make him pay double!’ This is not good. She will take her stove to America and tell everyone that the people of Togo are fair. Charge her deux mille. Ok? Ok wife, give him your 2 mille.” And that was that. I said goodbye to everyone and we hauled the stove home.
Maman gave the stove her blessing, told us we did a good job, and then actually let me help cook dinner. She had me build the fire and cut all the veggies, which would have been simple except they don’t use cutting boards. Everything is into your palm, and it was doucement! doucement! all over the place. Maman had fun laughing at me, I learned how to make a dish, and everyone was happy. Major success. On to poste visit! On va voir…
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Yovo, Yovo, Bon Soir
Hello from Tsevié! Pronounced just like it’s spelled, Chev-ee-ay : ) I’m having a great time learning how to live in Togo, and I’ve met some really awesome people, volunteers, PC Staff, and Togolese alike. I know it’s been a while… sorry! The internet works on average 2 days a week, and I’ve been guessing all the wrong days lately.
We found out our posts! I’m going to be in the village of Mogou , about 35 km to the east of Mango, in the Savanes region (the northernmost region, bordering Burkina Faso Ouagadougou
My host family is really super. They have 3 kids all under age 6, and still make time to help me with my laundry, cook me special meals (aka everything boiled, easy on the fish bones), and sew gorgeous pagne clothes for me. I have my own room, which is more like its own building in the family compound. The weather is so temperate here that my fam spends at least 80% of their day outside. And when I say temperate, I mean it's really hot, but they're used to it. We have electricity but no running water, and my host maman cooks all of the meals over little charcoal stoves out in the yard. I’m slowly getting used to the latrine… last week there was a beetle on the floor the size of a small chipmunk. More annoyed that it was in my way than scared, I went back outside, got a big rock, and killed it. See, Sasha? I’m making strides : )
Just about my favorite part of the day is my bucket shower at night. Our “shower” is a cement cube with an open roof, and I love washing my hair and looking up at all the stars. It gets realllyyyyy dark, and on clear nights you can see the Milky Way.
Our days as PCTs are packed. We have between 2 to 4 hours of French per day, and we just started to add in local language classes. We also have technical sessions about GEE programs, how to fix our bikes, Health and Admin presentations, and a mélange of other activities. We’ve passed the one month mark, and things are getting easier, I think. We'll see what I've actually learned after poste visit!
To explain the title, the kids sing a song on the street when we pass, that goes “Yovo, yovo, bon soir, ca va bien merciiiiiiii!” If they’re old enough to talk, they know the song, and they scream it. ‘Yovo’ directly translates to ‘white person,’ but carries no connotation that I know of. If you’re white, it’s just good to have that pointed out to you, I guess. Pretty much everything we do is weird, but I’m trying my best to not be quite so yovo. I did my laundry a couple days ago, which Maman was convinced I could not do unassisted. She had one of the maids help me, and she made me feel about as lazy as a rock. I was struggling, to say the least, and she asked me “Well, don’t you do laundry at home?” And I explained yes, but we have a machine, so you just put the clothes in with some soap and it just...goes. She made a confused face and told me “We don’t have machines here. We are the machines.” And it’s true. People are allll the machines here. I felt so dumb for complaining about hauling my laundry down to the basement of my apartment building last year. I had all my clothes washed and dried for me in 2 hours! I did my laundry last week on Sunday, and it kept raining so they weren’t dry until Wednesday. I’m getting a lot of perspective in a hustle.
I miss you all and hope all is well with you! I have a cell phone, and it works to call me from skype or google phone, if you feel so inclined: 011-228-722-6312. Ttysss xoxox
Monday, September 20, 2010
L'arrivee
We’re here!! Made it safe. It completely threw me off when I realized we were coming in after dark, because it was only 6:30 but the sky was already pitch black. The Togo staff and a couple volunteers greeted us, helped us through customs, and took us to one of the two hotels we’re using these first few nights. They started us right away on malaria medication, gave us food, and then put us to bed.
When they showed us to our room in the hotel, it finally hit me that I’m here. I was paired with the same PCT (we’re still “trainees” so they call us PCTs) to be roommates as in Philly, where we each had our own queen bed, a full shower, a TV, and carpeting. Walking into our room here, I saw one double bed to share, covered in a tent of mosquito netting, with one light bulb in the corner and a shower with just a cold water spigot, and I had an internal freakout. No going back now! As much as I tried to picture myself without American amenities, it’s just not the same as actually being faced with it. And this is a very nice hotel: they have wifi. But after I got over the shock, learned to turn on the light by smacking the light switch, and took a cold shower, I was actually excited to be here. I was so happy both my bags made it here in one piece! A few bags were lost and haven’t made it yet, but those people have been super calm about it, surprisingly. The last two days have been so busy already I can hardly process what all we’ve been doing! There are a few PCVs that have come down from their posts to take us around and help us with orientation. It’s a little intimidating being around them… they seem so comfortable here, it’s like being a freshman again. Or maybe more like a kindergartener. But they’re being really patient with all of our questions and sheep-like mentality. We’re on a tightly organized schedule, so much so that whenever we have free time for 20 minutes or so, I start asking around to people if there’s something we should be doing. One of the PCVs walked us home from dinner at the other hotel tonight and had to remind our group that we each needed to watch the traffic when we crossed the paved road, instead of just following the person ahead of us, because traffic wasn’t going to stop.
Yesterday was our language placement exam. When we go to our program training later this week, we’ll start French class based on how what level we placed into. I’m having an okay time adjusting to the French, I think. I’m able to understand almost everything people say to me, but my responses leave something to be desired. And then it gets really confusing when people throw in a local language word in the middle of a French sentence, and I can’t tell if I just don’t know that word or it’s in Ewe (Ev-ay, the primary language here in the south).
I saw the ocean for the first time yesterday—you can see it just down the road from our hotel. The staff discourages us from going to the beach, because it’s supposedly full of sewage and bad characters, but I felt reassured just seeing the water. Tomorrow is more health and cultural sessions, and then on Wednesday we travel to our training site to meet our host families for the first time! I’d better get to bed—the sun sets at about 6:00 pm, so our days start at 6:45 am. I miss you all and I hope I’ll have internet again soon! xoxox
Sit back and enjoy the flight
Bonjour from Paris!
Our first leg of the trip to Lomé was a success, but not without some excitement. After a slight seat assignment mix-up that left 4 of our group, including myself, without boarding passes, I was relieved just to get on the plane. About half-way through the airplane-created “nighttime,” I had settled into my window seat, watching the Disney documentary “Oceans.” Highly recommended, especially if you want to be sleepy at 8:00 pm trying to be 1:00 am.
Then, all of a sudden, a woman in the row behind me started screaming “JOHN! JOHN! Oh my God, JOHN!” She turned on the light, and I spun around to face a middle-aged man directly behind me who was completely unresponsive with his eyes half-open. Everyone was frozen for a second, and I was worried no flight attendants were rushing back, so I joined in, yelling for a doctor. I told the woman I was CPR certified, and started checking his breathing and pulse by leaning over the seat… he was breathing and had a light pulse, so there was really nothing I could do and I couldn’t tell what was wrong with him. I had just climbed around the seats to move into his row when he came to, and a doctor and two nurses arrived. They couldn’t tell what was wrong with him either, and started discussing an emergency landing in Reykjavik. Sound familiar Mom and Dad? Remember the flight to Norway where the man had a seizure in the aisle next to me, right over Iceland? Bermuda triangle of the north…I’m telling ya.
Long story short, the guy was ok. They gave him an IV and we continued to Paris with no more problems. More adventure than I thought I would see so early in the trip!
Friday, September 17, 2010
Staging
Our “staging” session is the time for all of us Togo volunteers to meet each other, get shots, turn in final paperwork, and then head to the airport. My flight out of Milwaukee was at 6:00 am yesterday morning, but I had no trouble waking up at 4:00. I didn’t feel nervous, but a strange combination of excited and sad to leave home. Luckily, the people of Milwaukee were in fine form and kept me together. I gave my boarding pass and ID to the security man, with tears rolling down my face, Mr. Security Man wasn’t having it. “You’re smiling! It’s all ok! You can do it! Off you go!” On the plane, I had the pleasure of sitting behind a man who needed both seats in his row. And was playing Yahtzee with his wife across the aisle. At 6:00 am. On a plane with 12 rows total. Just the thing to take my mind off my nerves.
But I got to Philly soon enough, and had a great day of meeting my fellow volunteers and PC staff. It was just the beginning of what will be a long series of info sessions on rules, procedures, safety, etc, and was actually kind of exciting. Just being able to talk about the trip with others doing the same thing has been great.
Today our only organized activity was getting shots, so after that we walked around and explored. I don’t know if they planned it on purpose, but I’m spending my last 24 hours in the U.S. in the most Americana neighborhood possible: historic downtown Philadelphia. We saw the liberty bell, Ben Franklin’s house, Betsy Ross’ house, and then found out it’s Constitution Day today. So patriotic! Now we’re sitting around, waiting for our bus to come and take us to the airport. And I’m wallowing in having internet and hot showers. I think my worst thing so far has been the lack of cell phone. I left mine at home because it definitely won’t work in Togo, and I think I’m suffering from withdrawl. I keep reaching for it at tables, searching for it in my backpack, getting nervous that I’m missing something when I leave a room…Gonna take some getting used to.
Well I’m off! I’ll talk to you from Togo : )
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Pre-pre departure
It's official: I have my tickets for Togo! I'll be here in Wisconsin until September 16th, when I fly to Philadelphia for my pre-departure orientation with the rest of the new Togo PCV's. After a day of immunizations (yiiikes) and seminars, we then leave on the 17th for Lome, Togo's capital, where we have training for about three months before we get our site assignments. As a Girls' Education and Empowerment (GEE) volunteer, I'll most likely be in a larger-ish village that has a middle school, and according to one returned GEE from Togo, I will probably have electricity in my house! But I'm trying not to set my expectations too high... much better to be surprised than disappointed.
Right now I'm spending about a month at home preparing for the trip and otherwise basking in all that is America. Frozen custard? Check. Air conditioning? Brats on the grill? Driving a car? Check check check. One of the "letters to future volunteers" from a current PCV included in the welcome packet said to stop stressing about packing lists and go eat a taco. I hope all peace corps advice is so easy to follow.
I'm not sure what method of communication will be easiest while I'm gone, but I'm hoping I'll have access to the internet every now and then. Feel free to comment on anything I post here, or facebook/ email me! Otherwise, if you'd like to send me a letter, here's my address in Lome:
PCT/PCV Ellen Van Cleave
Corps de la Paix
B.P. 3194
Lome, Togo
West Africa
For those of you in DC, I already miss you like crazy! I promise I'll do my best to keep this blog updated with stories and pictures, so please call me on it if I'm slacking. Til next time...
Right now I'm spending about a month at home preparing for the trip and otherwise basking in all that is America. Frozen custard? Check. Air conditioning? Brats on the grill? Driving a car? Check check check. One of the "letters to future volunteers" from a current PCV included in the welcome packet said to stop stressing about packing lists and go eat a taco. I hope all peace corps advice is so easy to follow.
I'm not sure what method of communication will be easiest while I'm gone, but I'm hoping I'll have access to the internet every now and then. Feel free to comment on anything I post here, or facebook/ email me! Otherwise, if you'd like to send me a letter, here's my address in Lome:
PCT/PCV Ellen Van Cleave
Corps de la Paix
B.P. 3194
Lome, Togo
West Africa
For those of you in DC, I already miss you like crazy! I promise I'll do my best to keep this blog updated with stories and pictures, so please call me on it if I'm slacking. Til next time...
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