Context not quite enough:

So I was talking with my host dad the other day about my post site, which is really close to here (training site – Gbatope), and living out there in stuff (in French of course). So then he asked me “tu veut devinir une femme togolaise?” I said yes, that I did want to become a togolese woman, living like the Togolese. Then my host dad proceeds to say that “il faut trouver un homme…” Now I am confused…find a man? Why does la femme mean woman and wife!!? I then corrected the misunderstanding, stating that I have a boyfriend at home and do not intend to marry here, and to drive the idea home, I brought out pictures of my petit ami americain.

Where are the bluebirds?

So Africa – everything is different. I was walking in the fields today, where the flies follow me because they LOVE the smell of my shampoo, and I’m passing through spider webs because the spiders magically traverse the path from branch to branch three feet off the ground (don’t ask me how they do it, this is Africa.); I have become very content in my surroundings, existing and doing, almost wondering how this is truly different t than anywhere else. And then I hear a bird in trees, and a black bird with iridescent green/blue/purple wings flutters past, and I realize “I’m not in Kansas, anymore” (or moreover, California). My point being, even the smallest things remind me of how very far away from home I am, and how much more exciting it is to be in a place so very different.

Men wear pink?

So Togo has a very typical male versus female dynamic – the stereotypical patriarchal society: men work for money, women cook, clean, and have babies. But then you see grown men in flowy boubou’s (kind of like a moomoo) or a dress-like top with matching pants. You see men wearing bright bubblegum pink flowery pants. You see two grown men, twenties, thirties, forties…, hold hands as they walk down the street. How very interesting. (Note on holding hands: In Togo, holding hands is not a romantic thing and couples do not do it. Friends and siblings hold hands.)

La vie est toujour comme ca = life is always like that = tough luck

Farewell Gbatope

Today, 3 aout, is a day with mixed emotions. I am excited to be moving on to the next phase of my service here: the actual service part and departure from trainee status to full fledge volunteer (swear-in is Friday). But I am also sad because I am saying goodbye to the comforts (and annoyances) of constant American companionship, and my host family. My host family has been truly wonderful and while I did not develop a particularly close relationship, as other stagiares have, I am truly grateful for all their work and acceptance. I will miss them, but I am fortunate enough to have a post close enough to visit. I’ve got to get my fix of pate-rouge. Ma mere hote makes the best!

First day as a volunteer:

Spent 4 hours at the bank, trying to set up our account that was already established. Went to the mattress store, which was closed, to see if they even have enough of the high quality. If not, I will be sleeping on the floor for a while. Looking forward to the big fete tomorrow. My host family even made me an official Togolese outfit. I will try to load a picture.