Of all the times to forget my camera, I thought as I watched three men load a cow into the back of a bush taxi. The red Toyota Starlet, from whatever year Toyota was making Starlets, looked like it would buckle under the weight of the animal, or maybe the sacks of grain, bicycles, and people already loaded into the vehicle, but miraculously it did not. You could tell from the windshield (held together with tape) and the doors (held closed with rope) and the ignition (hot wired) that this car had seen worse than cattle in its long life, and was up to the challenge. This bush taxi is my favorite car on my route into Mango, which involves biking 32km on “dirt” (read: sand/mud/rocks/river, depending on the season) roads, and then 25km in the Starlet. The driver has spent time in Ghana, and always greets me with “Good morning, sister! Let’s go to Mango! You go take your tea, and I will wait. Go and come.”Awesome. I get coffee in a can to go from the egg sandwich guy at the corner (and a sandwich, of course) and off we go, cow mooing all the way, to Mango: the big city.

But the big city is quickly coming to Mogou—this past week, big news—we got electricity! They turned on the big generator! The streetlights are on every night, and I have a lightbulb and a socket in each room in my house, which work from 6:00 pm until 11:00 pm. Other (larger) villages have electricity periodically throughout the day, but we don’t have quite the office worker population to support daytime electricity. So for the time being, it’s five hours. But what a difference! The first night we had it on in our compound, I was so excited I started dancing and hollering around the house, once again confirming my neighbors’ theories that I’m crazy.  I then plugged in everything I own and watched ten episodes of “How I Met Your Mother” until it went off at 11. Wild times in the village.

Girls Club is going again this school year: we meet every Wednesday and talk about different Life Skills topics for about an hour, and then dance it out in the courtyard. We’ve also started Reading Club with all of the donated books. The students LOVE them, and have started checking them out to read at home. I’ve had lots of other people in village asking to borrow books as well, from the teachers to the bartenders. Go reading!

I’ve been pretty busy with my national project work: Our first Lève-Toi Jeune Fille (our girls magazine) issue came out (theme: Girls in Science), and we’re working on our second right now. I’ve also been spending time in Kara getting ready for the Women’s Conference, scoping out hotels, getting our team together, etc. And, of course, taking advantage of the pool at Hotel Kara : )

And now, a shout out to all my readers who remember the battle I had with cockroaches in my apartment: check out this bug, which was in my house. It was one of many, attracted by the electric lights. Enjoy : )

Family visit pics!

Me and Kevin in the marche

We call this one "dinner looking at dinner." One of the goats checking out the chickens on the menu for the party.

The ladies of Mogou escorting us to the party, singing and dancing all the way

Mom joins in the dancing circle

My family at my house!

Wow, where did I leave off?? So much happened in the month of August, and only now am I getting enough of a break to stop and think about what all I’ve been doing.

First, Camp Etoiles du Nord was a huge success. The girls loved it, and really it was hard to tell who was enjoying themselves more: the participants or the organizers. For me and my Mango cluster gang, it was lots of work and pretty stressful making sure thirty girls plus all of our panelists and other counterparts were having a good time, but when we had the chance to step back and appreciate all that was going on… it was pretty impressive. The girls were fantastic; lots of energy, participation, and great attitudes. We also had four female university students who grew up in the Mango area helping us out as counselors. They stayed with the campers at the center overnight, and were able to answer more of the girls’ questions, having already been through their same situations. They were a big help to us… I really don’t know how we would have done the camp without them.

            One thing we’d overlooked was Ramadan. Our camp took place during the second week of the holiest month of the year for a town with a population that is about 90% Muslim. So, we had about 10 out of the 30 girls fasting, that is not eating or drinking water, from 4:00 am until 6:30 pm every day of camp. I know I would have had a hard time concentrating, but they really rose to the challenge and we had very few problems overall.

            Camp Etoiles had three major components: panel discussions, educational sessions on different topics, and site visits. Our panelists were a great group of women (and a few men) from the Mango area who shared their different careers and experiences with the campers, and we as PCVs had a great time getting to know them. Really impressive people. We had a female civil engineer (the regional director for public works here in Savanes), a policewoman, an accountant, a nurse, the manager of the post office, teachers, NGO workers, etc. I think the panel presentations were just as interesting for us PCVs and the university students as they were for the participants.  The part the girls liked the most was the site visits. We went to a microfinance/ credit union, the hospital, and the radio station. The radio station was the best; each girl got to speak on air and say her name, her village, and what she wants to be when she grows up (along with a few “Hi Mom!”s).

            When camp was over (literally, the same day), I went down to Lomé and over to Accra to pick up my mom, dad, and Kevin. Yay family! They stayed for 8 days, and we saw it ALL. Lomé, Mogou, and everything else in between. It was so awesome to see them and be able to show them what my life is really like here. We had a party in village in honor of their visit…which was in the end a success but caused a lot of stress along the way. I didn’t realize that there is no such thing as a “small” village fête. The entire village came to eat, drink, and dance with us at the school. The chief made a speech, and Mom and Dad made one as well, which everyone loved. The Mogou women showed off their traditional dances and let me, Mom, and my PCV friends join in—really fun! Kevin and Dad had matching batik pagne shirts made for the occasion, and even Toby came to party it up with us. I was really impressed with how well my family put up with everything Togo threw at them: strange food, French, crazy/ uncomfortable travel in a bush taxi, chickens and radios waking us up at 5:30 in the morning… not quite a relaxing vacation.

            Then, about a week later, Kelsey and Cindy came visit! Kelsey did a mini tour of West Africa, visiting Cindy at her site, then the two of them came to Togo to hang in Savanes with me. We saw the Moba caves, which are cliff caves that the Moba people hid in during the Moba-Tchokossi wars in the 18^th century. We biked out there with one of my PCV friends who lives nearby… he forgot to tell us they were cliff caves and thus we would be climbing a mountain to get to them. But we rallied and the hike was totally worth it! Awesome views, a waterfall, caves, what’s not to like? The next day we kicked it down to Mogou, did the marché, and hung out on my porch watching the rain. Kels brought me pop tarts and cookies that she and Cindy baked… first of all, I love how she remembered my pop tart obsession. Second, wow, cookie baking? I need to step up my game. Although, thanks to chef Dad, I am now a confident okra-cooker! But anyways, Kels, GOOD LUCK at your new job! So freaking proud of you. And Cindy, I’ll need to plan a Burkina trip sometime soon so I can see these tall goats you’re talking about.

            Well, my busy-ness didn’t stop there. I went right down to the Gender and Development Committee meeting in Kara, and while it was great to see all my friends, I could tell I’m in need of some village time. But, our first Lève-Toi Jeune Fille issue is out! We’re now working on our next issue, themed Community Action!, with a community service/ Camp Unite focus. Should be done by December, we hope.

            So now, back to village. I might sleep for the first three days. Then, prep for the first day of school! I’m hoping to do a girls’ club at both the middle and elementary school this year, and I’m eager to get back and start planning with Affaires. We’ve been in Togo for one year now… some days it feels like we just got here, and sometimes it feels like I’ve never been anywhere else. Yikes!  

“I don’t think this is the same pork we bought last time.” “No, it’s not, I’m almost sure. I saw what was written on the package…” “Me too! But I wasn’t going to say anything…”

“What are you guys talking about? What kind of meat is this?” I was lost. We were nearing the end of a delicious chili dinner, made with pork we bought from nuns in a village near Mango, and as I had been washing dishes, I didn’t watch much of the preparation.

My PCV friends looked at each other. “The package said ‘Pâté de Tête.’ ” Pig head meat. “Are you kidding! And we ate it!” I was thoroughly grossed out. But both my friends defended the pork. “Oh, it’s all the same! Like, what do you think is in sausage? That’s meat from who knows where on the animal. And maybe it’s just regular meat with some brain in it.” “I ATE PIG BRAIN?? And you think that’s reassuring!” I couldn’t believe it. Two Americans, one of whom had been a vegetarian for eight years prior to coming to Togo, were trying to convince me that pig head meat and/or brain was not only ok, but that I was the weird one for freaking out. Indeed, we have come a long way.

Before leaving for Togo, I heard from lots of people that Peace Corps changes you. I didn’t really understand at the time… “Change how? Do I need changing?” I thought. I couldn’t think what about me could change… I’d traveled before. I’d seen things. And now, with my friends and family coming to visit really soon (YES!), I’ve been thinking about it again. Has Peace Corps changed me? Apparently not in the same way as my friends, who don’t think twice about what kind of meat they eat as long as it tastes good. But I’m pretty sure I’ve changed in one way or another. Life is just… well it’s different here.

Here are some events from this past week:

-I was cooking dinner  one night with Toby and Jabenjezu (my neighbor’s dog) curled up on the kitchen floor. Then my neighbor’s cat wandered in. Then a mama duck and her 8 baby ducks wandered in. “Hey duck family, get out! All the animals, out out!” I shooed them out, and kept cooking. Ducks in my kitchen. Surprising, but not unbelievable. I’d been the one to leave my door open to a courtyard full of ducks, guinea fowl, cats, dogs, and chickens. And two weeks ago, we’d also had 2 giant bulls staying with us that my neighbor had rented to plow his field. As my friend from Mango has helped me to discover, I talk to animals a lot more now. I was telling her a story that started with the line, "So as I told Toby the other day..." and she burst out laughing and said, "Please, you don't even need to finish that sentence."

-On Friday, I stopped through a village on my way to Mango to talk to the director of the middle school there and invite him to the opening ceremony for camp. “Oh sure, I’ll be there, that’d be great!” he says. “And by the way, of the three girls you thought were coming from this village, only one is coming. And she’s bringing her baby, is that ok? The other two left… I think they’re in Lomé.” Camp starts in four days. I went to talk to the parents of one of the girls. “I heard the camp was called off! That’s what my sister told me. (What! Who is her sister?? Where are we getting this information?) My daughter’s in Sokodé… I don’t know when she’ll be back. Sorry.” So we scrambled and found two replacement girls. Fingers crossed, camp looks like it’s going to go really well, and we’ve now verified with the rest of the girls that they’re coming, so hopefully no more snags. Well, who am I kidding, there will be snags, but here’s hoping they’ll be small.

-Yesterday, in an effort to remind all of our participants that camp is YES, still happening, my PCV friend in Mango and I went on the radio to talk about the camp. It was really cool… I don’t think I’ve been that nervous in a while! Everyone in even the tiniest of villages listens to this radio station all day, and I knew it would be on in my compound at least. We talked about the goals of camp, who was going to participate, what we were going to do, and how we hoped it would help the girls and the community. The radio had a guy translate what we said from French to Anufo and Gangam, back to back. I will admit, that must be tricky work, but I was still miffed to hear him open each translation with “The Peace Corps ooboumpié says” or “The Peace Corps batouli says,” meaning “The PC white lady” in Gangam and Anoufo, respectively. C’mon! We were so close! Just stop after Peace Corps… but honestly, calling me ooboumpié probably helps all the peeps out in Mogou and beyond recognize who’s talking better than saying Corps de la Paix.

NOTE: Starting today, Togo is changing it’s phone numbering system to 8 instead of 7 digits. If you’re trying to call me, my new numbers are:

Togocel (doesn’t work in village, but is my main phone when I’m out of village):

92.22.63.12 [used to be 722.63.12]

Moov (works in village):

99.40.31.03 [used to be 940.63.12]

LOVE to you all! xoxox

One of my PCV friends from Savanes came to visit me in Mogou on Monday. As she got off the taxi moto, the first thing she said to me was, “How did Peace Corps FIND this place??” Since the rains started, both of the roads leading out of Mogou have been hit pretty hard. The “good” road to Gando is more like a river for large stretches of way, forcing motos and bikes to ride in the grass on either side. The not-so-good road to Mango is about to close for the season because it goes through the Oti river floodplain. So, we’re slowly turning into an island…which I find all the more strange because not more than two months ago it was so dry and hot here that it only took an hour for all my laundry to dry on the clothesline. But nobody in Mogou seems too concerned about it; Everyone is way too busy planting and working in the fields. My half-hectare of soybeans just sprouted with the last rainstorm! My Gamgam teacher and I have a shared field and she decided that soy was the thing to plant. Afterwards she felt badly because she didn’t think that yovos ate soy. “We should have planted beans! You love beans!” But I assured her that yes, yovos eat soy and that even if it were beans, her family would be getting most of the crop, anyways. Her cousins and aunts did all of the work for the field, so I feel a little badly taking the credit for it… but come harvest time it’ll all get repaid. We also have fresh corn in the market now! I was so excited when I saw it and bought 5 ears right away. All the marché mamas started talking, and my Gamgam teacher translated: “They’re surprised you eat that! We thought only Africans ate corn. Yovos eat corn? Right off the cob like that? And you know how to cook it?” It’s like in People magazine or Us Weekly—the section called “Stars: they’re just like us!” They shop for shoes, they play with their dogs, etc. “Yovos! They’re just like us!” They eat corn! And soy! They travel in bush taxis! They ride bicycles! We yovos are pretty unpredictable, I guess.

We’re in the final stretches of work for our girls’ camp… oy, lots to do. I’ve been in charge of tracking down the girls in southern Oti (Mogou, Gando, Sagbiebou) to have them fill out questionnaires, permission slips, etc. Most of them are pretty shy but seem eager to go, so it will be fun to pull them out of their shells a bit at camp. It’s also been fun working with my PCV colleagues in Mango… we just made a delicious lunch of macaroni and cheese with REAL cheese and butter. We’re up in Dapaong printing and photocopying all the documents for camp, and taking advantage of all the luxuries of the “big city.” And, in spite of electricity cuts, copy machines from 1999, Mac-formatted USB key issues, and only one functional color printer in all of Dapaong (meaning all of Savanes), we printed and copied everything we needed for camp in a day. Boo-yaaa! Togo is really helping me gain some perspective and appreciation for the weirdest things. Like Kinkos. And dairy products.

Hope you’re all doing well and enjoying summer! LOVE xoxox

Oh, one thing I forgot! One of the volunteers up in Dapaong put together a CD of music by artists in villages around Dapaong called Songs of Savanes. You can order it at http://cdbaby.com/cd/moba, and proceeds go to buying a donkey and cart for one of the villages. Check it out! : )