8 months down, Part 1

Hello Everyone. I would like to begin by clarifying something from my previous post. I do not mean to seem greedy or unappreciative to those who have sent me packages, letters and emails. Packages are wonderful, but all I really need is for people to keep in touch with me and send me the occasional email or well wishes. I understand that this may come across as hypocritical due to the fact that I have not been able to update as much as you or I would like and that I may not have be able to give a complete picture as to what I have been up to. Suffice to say that the Communication Age has not reached Togo and god knows it will probably take me years before I relate all that has been happening. I mean don’t worry, a lot of it is good, it just that whenever I try to think of what to tell everyone back home it makes me aware of how far away I am from whatever common ground I once existed that I do not even know where to begin. So I will segue that way I always do, with my hair.

People Touching my Hair

As some of you will remember from a previous post, when I was leaving to come to Togo my precious Deep Moistening Conditioner was confiscated in the name of International Security. I was understandably furious and feared for the future of my hair in the hot, tropical, African sun. Luckily, my hair has been holding up relatively well, though a little lighter, but I have not brought this up to set everyone's mind at ease. It is important for everyone to know that the Togolese freaking love my hair. LOVE IT. They like to touch it, pet it, braid it, comb it, brush it out of my face, and talk about it. Women ask me how I made it so smooth and they want to know if I can do the same for them or even better give my hair for them to use. Since I have arrived in village, I have seen more and more hairdresser hanging long, straight, golden-light-brown hair outside of their shops to sell. In the days before I left for Togo while I was doing a lot of last minute shopping, a “friend” mercilessly teased me because I was indifferent to everything I was buying except for my shampoo and conditioner. That I spent a good 30 minutes comparing, analyzing and debating over different brands. Now, as I recall that memory, I can only say that I was absolutely in the right and that my “friend” lacked the international savvy that I displayed that day.

This is a slight tangent, but I recently discovered that within the market of my small little village are bottles to lighten dark skin. This is just something to ponder.

Irrational Fears

After a month or two in Togo, I realized that I had suddenly developed acute fears of some of the everyday things I was experiencing. They usually feded and were replaced with another, sometimes more bizarre one. I will list some for you:

Latrines - I am a little embarrassed to admit this, but when I first came to Togo I had so idea what a latrine was. People explained that they are the same thing as Outhouses but I didn’t really understand what an outhouse was either. Nevertheless, I soon found out. Now, I should preface this by saying that I have been fortunate enough here in Togo to have only lived in houses with flush toilets. I don’t know how this happened as this is rare for volunteers, but I’m not questioning it. Though I am okay now, in the beginning I would avoid Latrines at all cost. It is not just that they smell bad, or that they maybe snakes and definitely a wide an assortment of insects (spiders, giant spiders). It was something about. I swear to you, the herds of flies and cockroaches that lived in the latrine charging towards my delicate ladies parts that I couldn’t swallow. I believe the defining moment for me was when slightly drunk in the afternoon (Togo is a drinking culture. Do not judge me) I made my way to the buvette’s latrine, took one long look at it, and decided to pee next to the latrine. Yep. Since that day I have made a lot of progress and am no longer afraid of Latrines, but then again I don’t have to use them.

Children- I should specify that I do not mean all children. Being here actually has awakened a long dormant love of children and reminded me of how much fun they can be. When I say children, what I am actually referring to is the disease-spreading side of their nature. The children I feared were the ringworm- headed, open and infected sore sporting, unwashed and latrine avoiding (can’t blame ‘em), handshaking, TB cough in your face, enthusiastic and happy to meet you children. Now I understand how much work is put into us when we are young to develop good hygiene and general self-care habits because here outside of the city you are at square fucking one. I should also mention that children generally become self-sufficient much quicker than U.S. and is it interesting to compare the difference between the hyper concern and insecurities of mothers in the states and nonchalance to indifference some mothers in Togo display. However, I will be completely real with you that the first time I saw a gang of 1 year olds running in front of a motorcycle or a 2 year old playing with a kitchen knife I was completely alarmed. Now I hardly notice it.

Mice- For 2 months, I was involved in a contest of wits with a family of six mice and a rat. I know how many because that is how many I killed. In all actuality, I did not really fear the mice so much as I feared their lack of fear of me. They would run over my foot, perch next to my head while I was eating, and ate all my food. They had to die.

Sensibilsations - I refused to give what in French are known as, health lectures based on not being strong in the language and that it was just another example of one of the biggest problems in development world. Basically white person comes, tell local population how they can live a better life, white person gives gifts, t-shirts, candy, and/ or money to locals. White person leaves, never comes back, and feels good about role in universe. Local person, wearing t-shirt, continues living life the same way as before, and the next time White person comes asks for t-shirt. Not interested. There is this psychology to poverty and development work that seems to prevent sustainable progress. Granted, there are many ways to gauge progress and I am young and inexperienced in this field and cannot see the whole picture. However, at a local, grassroots level I can say what is not going to work for me and my village and I am not going to do work that a local person should do himself or herself, such as a Sensibilsations. It’s is about sustainability. Luckily, my director agrees, so now I have to find away to convince my village it does not actually need me. Does that make sense? It will.

Premature Aging- When the hell did I become 27? I was just 24. Ultraviolet rays have never seemed so threatening. I have found myself closely examining every winkle and smile line and have found another gray hair. For those keeping track we are now up to two gray hairs. I understand that fixated on aging is silly, especially when one is still healthy and fully enjoying their twenties, and that years from now I will laugh at my vanity. But not yet…

Gastronomical Delights

Since my goat jaw story was so popular, I have another one for you.

The President of my Village's Community Development group had invited me over for lunch and he had his wife prepare a feast for him and me to share. Eating here is like a test of endurance, you have to be in it to win it. It is almost impolite to not ask for more and if you want more at someone else’s house you better believe that is going to be brought up. Anyway, Mr. President is pretty well off, he has 3 wives, 17 children, 3 homes, and a degree in Russian Language from University of Lomé. This meal had many courses, was served on table with a tablecloth and silverware (most people eat on the ground, out of a common pot with their hands) and I almost ate myself sick. I was digging into some fufu with goat when I come across a piece of meat that was all bone. Here whole animal is used here so I am accustomed to picking meat from leg bone, arm, rib, spine, I’m on it. Therefore, I figures that might be some juicy goat meat hidden within this mass of bones. Sure enough, I cracked it open and found what looked like a nice chuck of something still attacked to the bone and began to inspect it. I did not really like the texture, which was rubbery when I squeezed it, and it felt like might be full of fluid though its shape looked like it would be perfect to pop in my mouth. Mr. President asked if I interested in the meat since I was hesitatingly squeezing instead of eating. I confessed I did not know what it was and he explained that it was the eye of the goat. My own eyes got wide, I quickly flipped the piece over, and sure enough, the skin I had already decided against was in fact goat cheek and eyelid. I gave him big smile, picked the goat face out of my plate, and dropped it in his own. “C‘est pour vous” I explained. “Deui Merci” he responded and popped the eye in his mouth.

Quick Updates

*I suspect I can control the Togolese through music.

*People, men especially, when I express gratitude for something tend to respond that it is because I am “so beautiful” that they felt compelled to help me out in some way. I could see that. Please send sunscreen.

*Was given a cat by the aforementioned Mr. President after complaining about the aforementioned mice. I think he has a dark soul. His name is George or Georgette after Mr. Pres. We’ll soon find out.


Okay folks that is all for the moment. I will be sending out another update this weekend with pictures but wanted to get some of this mammoth entry out as it has already taken a month and a half to get it all together. Thanks to everyone for their Birthday well wishes and I hope to hear about everyone else’s life soon.
Natasha

Sigh...

Hello, hello, hello,

As I have recieved absolutely nothing for the holidays, not even a letter and might I add only two Merry Christmas on Facebook, I can only assume that I, unlike my friends who recieved boxes of tangiable love from their friends and family, have been forgotten. I light of my birthday on the 9th of january I have decided to not be ignored. I have decided that perhaps you all simply need some encouragement. You can send me the following:

Snazzy, cheap earrings
Easy Crossword puzzles
National Geographic
Hybrid Rechrargable batteries - Rayovac (AA and lot's of them)

Or who could simply send a email my way and say hi. And Carol, if you do not start to respond to my emails I will cut you out of my life.

Happy Holidays!

Natasha

Children Run Away Screaming from Me

I'm okay with it.

The other day I was in my village and chatting with one of my friends when I spotted a kid I had been playing the day before a little ways down the road. I smiled and waved to him but he didn't respond and I thought perhaps he did not recognize me. Then I remembered, I am the only white person he has ever seen in his short life. I kinda' stand out.

It is very interesting living in a place with so little of what I recognize as racial diversity. By this I mean everyone is Ewe aside from the small Indian population near my village. Sometimes I forget that I am different at all. In many ways it's nice.

But this update is really all about business. I have finally gotten some pictures online. They are from the summer and will try to post some more recent one soon. I haven't really given a lot of details for the pics, instead I invite the viewer to use their imaginations regarding my tantalizing Togolese life. I hope you enjoy.

I have created a facebook account because it is easier to load over here because of all the bells and whistles of Myspace. Also, I think Myspace is lame - no offense. The pictures are stored on my page and I have spent the last several hours trying to remember who my friends are in the states. You'll me hearing from me soon if so. But I would like to publicly acknowledge both Sara Kagan and Jeff Artist, neither of who have facebook accounts (get on it), for the amazing packages they sent me. You have no idea how much these packages mean to me, it's like you read my mind They mean the everything to me and thank you so, so much. I'll see if I can in someway return the favor in time.

Okay everyone, I hope you had a Happy Thanksgiving. I'll talk to you soon,

Natasha

Stage Photo links:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=10944&l=6f4df&id=580909887

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=10945&l=4d388&id=580909887

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=10983&l=e648b&id=580909887

My Feet are Always Dirty

Other quick updates

I am holding up pretty well. October has been a hard month because homesickness had finally hit me but I am slowly starting to find ways to deal with it. It has been really strong at times, almost like I am possessed with longing for my old life. But that said, other times feel so rewarding and right that they seem to balance out. When I first got here a Volunteer explained the whole experience as a “two-year mind-fuck”. It is true. For example, in the morning I will feel discouraged and be ready to leave, missing the convenience and benefits of living in the U.S. and two years will feel like too long to be away. Then by the afternoon I and completely content and even deeply consider extending or working abroad when I am finished here. It is insane. But, looking back to how apprehensive I was before I came I can definitely say that the experience is much better than I imagined, though it is challenging, and many of my fears were unfounded.

And on the Brightside, Peace Corps is doing wonders for my superiority complex. I can’t wait to slap people with it when I return.

Also, for those that are interested, I will be planning some awesome African vacations for those are interested. I would also be interested in European vacas if you are bankrolling it. Also, come to Togo so you can share my experience with me.

Also, finally lost quitting smoking weight though it came at a heavy price

Later,

Natasha

It's Crazy Hot

Let's see, were to begin...


I ended up arriving in village a week late due to the aforementioned amoebas. First day in village and I am still weak from my recent bout with amoebas and dehydration and taking the meds which clean out your system. I end up going to the annual Fetish Festival for the Yoto prefecture with the Chief and the other Notables of the village. Nothing too crazy, though they did kill a chicken. Afterwards, we went to a banquet to celebrate the event that was attended by western-style politicians, the Prime Minister is from Yoto and was also there, and the tradition Village Chiefs and VIPS. I ended up at a table with men who only spoke Ewe to each other and stared off into the distance. When the food was ready to be served one of the men offered to fix me a plate and asked me what I ate. I vaguely told him I liked everything. HA. He returns with a plate that reeked of old fish. There was some type of green sauce with crab, liver, dried fish and some sort of meat. I found it unappetizing and tried to take sample some but felt queasy and ended up pushing the food around the plate. I then noticed what I thought looked like a tooth. Upon further exploration, I realized that it was many teeth, which together formed one-half of a jaw of a goat with the lip still attached. I froze, then tried to bury it under rice and carry on, but finally mustered a weak smile though my queasiness and told my tablemates that I was full and pushed the plate away. The man next to me takes the plate, it should be noted all at the table are eating rapturously and had begun hoarding cans of soda in their sacs, and began shoving the food in his month with as much gusto as he did with his first two servings. When I glanced at the plate a few moments later it was completely clean, as was the goat jaw bone that lay in the center.
I wonder if sucking the meat off the jawbone of an animal would make me a better volunteer.

French

I suck at speaking French. Suck at it. Luckily, for me most people in my village speak Ewe, and even if they can speak French, even excellent French, they prefer to speak Ewe. Excellent. A typical example is I will be walking down the street and cross paths with an Older Woman. It goes something like this:

Natasha: Bonjour Madam! Comment ça va?
Older Woman: Woezolo! Aphenemtodo? (not actual spelling)
Natasha looks confused. Once again tries her handy French.
N: Desolee Madam, mais, je ne comprends pas l’Ewe
The Older Woman looks a little befuddled, but smiles wide and gesticulates wildly.
OW: Eweewewewewe, ewe ewe. Ewe! Eweewew?
Natasha purses her lips narrows her eyes and nods understandingly though she has no what is happening.
N: Non. Shakes her head and shrugs
The Older Woman stares at her and then shrugs back. The two women turn and then walk down the street together in friendly silence.

I mean it’s okay, it’s bound to work itself out eventually. I should probably study more and have I have been sidetracked by all they crazy stuff that has been happening. And on the bright-side by they time I leave I will be able to speak French like a Togolese framer with a 6 grade education.

This is a side note, but I have decided that the French language in its very nature promotes sexism and classicism with its genders and formal tenses. I have decided that English is the language of equality.

Voodoo Stuff

Recently there was a string of voodoo killings my area and I had to skip out of town for a few days. People where being beheaded, drained of their blood, then had their necks removed and their heads sewed beck on to their shoulders. The whole thing was pretty vague and I didn’t get a lot of answers which made me briefly consider a career as a voodoo detective. But it blew over pretty quickly and now things are back to normal. Don’t worry I’m fine. Been sick quite as bit, though.

Elections

A few years ago, the all the international aide and development organizations left Togo. I will leave you to find out why on your own. Anyway, long story short Togo is in the midst of what will hopefully be its first uncontested and internationally approved election. It is a legislative election and no problems were expected as occurred with the previous presidential election and as far as I know the voting process which happened on Sunday was a smooth and successful. The result should be announced within the next few days. One of the many benefits of this is the possible return of the international community and the potential for Togo to receive much needed development assistance. An example of how this could benefit is by subsidizing AIDS drugs which are now too expensive for the average Togolese person, who are typically so sick by they time they get tested that they cannot work to avoid care. Anyway, this type of assistance would help everyone out in a big way.

Work

Everyone is asking me what type of work I will be doing. The answer is that I don’t know yet. They way Peace Corps Togo works is that you are assigned to a post to work under a certain field, mine being public health, the others being natural resource management, small enterprise and business and girl’s education and empowerment. We are set up with one or two people with in our communities with whom we can begin to talk about which types of potential projects exist and are feasible. We spend the first three months observing, becoming used to the lifestyle and getting to know people, and then we begin to identify jobs and projects that we will work on thought out our services. Personally, my time has been spent trying to make sure I have enough clean water and learning how to use my medical kit, and between being sick all the time and with everything that is happening in the country I have been a little overwhelmed. So, work hasn’t taken off yet, but it looks like I might be trying to start up an association for people living with HIV/AIDS and trying to set up some sort of Malaria prevention campaign.

Okay, that's all for today. More soon. Hopefully tomorrow.

Feeling better

Okay, I'm back. Feeling better today and have taken care of what I assume is the worse of the meds. So let's jump right into the meaty stuff.

My post is in the south of Togo. Togo is divided into 5 regions, Savannes, Kara, Central, Plateau, and mine, the southern most region, Maritime. I am in the top left hand corner of the region, about 60km from Lome and less than 20 km from the border of Benin. My village is actually villages, meaning that I am the health volunteer for a group of 10 village, the largest of which I call home. The ethnic group are the Ewe, languages spoken are French for those who are educated, Ewe and Mina. Everyone would like to speak English, and give me their children, and marry me. By the way, I'm engaged, since I can't right out lie and say I'm married though I have taken to wearing the third pagne. Wait, that makes no sense, hold on:

Pagnes are beautifully decorated cloth that people use to make clothes. Rarely are clothes ready made, instead people buy pagne, and then take it to you the appropriately gendered tailor and have outfits made. Needless to say, I love this and think I am going to solely wear Togolese clothes while I am hear. Anyway, wearing a third pagne, around you waist or over your shoulder, means you are married.

So anyway, my village is considered to be "en brousse" because I have limited access to food and necessities, no electricity, unreliable cell phone reception, and cars that only leave two days a week because the 8 km long road that leads to the next large town is so bad it looks like Swiss cheese. Not funny when you are driving it. In fact, I have moto privileges because of this. Motos are catching a ride with men who drive motorcycles. It gets pretty crazy sometimes and you see an entire small family and a goat on a small motorcycle.

This being said, my village is also pretty comfortable as far as health volunteer villages go. I have running water and a wonderful house with a large pouch, flush toilet, shower, and big living room. I believe the house is owned by some old political bigwig. Also, the Chief of my village is young and motivated for change, and there are a few different NGOs and dispensaries that I could work with so in terms of being able to do some work I am in a good spot. Also, I am close to hippos and alligators which is sweet. And there is a lot of Voodoo in my area, which I will be sure to explore once I am able to ask about it.

My french has grown at alarming speed though I am still not able to have an adult conversation. It also comes and goes, for example, one day I will be winning and argument with a Togolese man about the merits of family planning ("But who will work in the fields if I get sick", they say. "What? You don't have fields, Jesus Christ", I reply) and the next week I can barely order a beer. But for the benefit of all, I have refrained from peppering this blog entry with french to avoid sounding too pretentious.

Okay, gotta to. Quickly, Togo is without a doubt a patriarchy that is a pain in my ass, though to be fair there are equally annoying men in the U.S. It is also very, very poor. In retrospect, I think my decision to live in a developing country for two years was greatly aided by my having never been to a developing country before. It can be overwhelming, but I will get in all this next time.

I think a good way to proceed with this blog thing would for all of you to send me questions which I will then post responses. I promise! Also, no one has sent me anything yet. I didn't want to say anything, but it just makes you look bad. Things I need include the following:

Magazines
Candy
Music (on Cds, mp3s, this is incredibly urgent and must be sent as soon as possible)
Dark chocolate
Tank tops (medium)
Presents!

Padded envelopes pass through easier than boxes, US mail is best, and make sure you send it out to "PCV Souer Natasha Ott" and cover it with crosses and the like. For some reason divine intervention is necessary.

"PCV Souer Natasha Ott"
Corps de la Paix
B.P. 3194
Lome(accent on the "e"), Togo
West Africa

Til we meet again,
Natasha

I have Amoebas

Sorry I haven't been able to update as much as I or you would have linked. For the last three months I have been in Stage, which is intensive cultural and language training before you officially begin in your village. But before I get into all of this let me first start with the email rules.

The biggest reason why I have not been in touch is that the intenet here is like Dial-up circa 1992. For example, for the first 3 times I was able to get a town with Internet I would have to spend my whole hour looking at my inbox, unable to open any emails. Or I would miraclously open one email and eagerly write a response only to have the electricity go out. Due to this, Internet has become like my kryptonite. Meaning it is so far the only thing that will make me completely lose my shit, curse Togo and slam nearby objects and doors. So I stopped trying. Now I am in Lome, the capital, because I am staying at the Med Unit due to my bugs so I have access to the sweet Peace Corps Internet. So the emails rules are this:

(oops, I accidentally posted this. Ignore)

1. I will probably have access to Internet around once a week, maybe more maybe less. When I say access I mean one or two hours at a cafe

2. If I ask you to do something for me, for the love of god do it, no questions asked. Questions are more emails were is time wasted.

3. I will never be able to download pictures, videos, links, etc. You can send if you like, but the real way to get to me is through mail. More on that later.

Okay, feeling weak and have to go back to med unit. I will continue with the update either later on today or tomorrow. Super!

Natasha