Back on West African streets

Ok everyone. It’s about time I tell you what’s up.

 I’ve been here in Lomé, Togo for about a week now, missing you all and thinking of home, but also excited to embark on a new adventure. I’m going to catch up on this blog in the next few days to tell you about my surroundings, my work, and the people I’ve met. I’ll tell you about my personal thoughts, mostly along the same lines as in Mali, about my struggle to find how I can best make an impact. But this time it’s a bit different. Just a forewarning- I’m not out in village. In Dombila, I could describe the feuds of Shaka and Irene or talk honestly about how B cheated me out of my money. But not here. I’m surrounded by more modern colleagues and neighbors that could have access to what I post here. I’m doing a research study that involves sensitive and confidential information. So while I will chronicle daily trials and tribulations, there are depths of this experience that I have to reveal to you in conversations off record.

 In many ways, being here in Lomé is not new at all. It’s amazing how similar this city is to Bamako. Going down the streets that turn from pavement to flooded dirt, I see the markets, the children playing in the streets, the half-finished buildings, and the intersections crowded with weaving motos. Children run up and point to me, some rude men hiss at me, and any time of day or night, you can always get a great egg sandwich on the street for about 35 cents. But the familiarity is a bit of a façade. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had to put my foot in my mouth because I’m trying not to speak Bambara. It feels like my territory, but it isn’t. My French is good enough to get me around, communicate, survive. But I no longer have my secret weapon. The other night I went to get some street food- I went out to the lady with all her big pots covered on the table, and the people sitting on wobbly benches eating their rice or greasy spaghetti. I asked for beans and couscous. She looked annoyed. Everyone around me was talking in Ewe, the local language here. I’m sure the first thought that came to her head was here’s a stupid foreigner that has no idea what this food is and is probably going to get sick off of it. In Mali, I could prove her wrong, and take every one in the vicinity by surprise by busting out some bean jokes. I would have had her smiling in a second, and she’d become a regular friend that I’d pass by and greet. Instead, her thoughts about me being a stupid foreigner were valid. And I probably would get sick off of the food. And she looked at me with a bit of distain, handed me my change, said, “Merci” and I left.

 Now people here are friendly, don’t get me wrong. And I’m both jealous and grateful for my colleague and good friend, Miss Annie Chen. Annie was a classmate of mine at Hopkins and is the other Hopkins representative of this project (more on our work in the next post). Annie however, was Peace Corps Togo. This IS her territory. She worked her entire second year in the exact section of the city that we are in now. We walk down the street and little kids know her name, she bargains taxi drivers in Ewe, she commands the street, the language, most of our interactions, and I tend to feel reliant on her for many things. If she wasn’t here, I would not be experiencing the Lomé I am now. She has taken me to the markets, the beach, parties with other foreigners, fun little restaurants, pools, found me a place to live, explained to me what local food is must-have and which to avoid. I am outstandingly grateful. And though it is fun to experience a new place, it is so much like Bamako, I wonder why I’m not just in Bamako where I know the ropes (well, yes, besides the coup and all that… and that reminds me of another story…).

 But of course, there are interesting differences here in culture, some of which I will elaborate on in future posts. As for me, it feels good to be out here. Of course it comes at a price- not as much nutritious food, being far away from my family and friends, struggling to stay in shape. But I’m back out here in the field. And though the work so far has been slow, I feel like I’m doing something really important. I love this field- I feel so blessed to be able to do this work. And I’m still young, adventurous, and able to have experiences like this.

 More to come later. And maybe I should start taking some pictures too.

 Yours again and always, Emily