Visual representation: A day in the life of a baby

Babies spend the day on the backs of their mothers.  Whether preparing food, walking to get water, attending a training, dancing, singing, at the market, the mother always has her baby on her back.  Surprisingly - despite the surrounding commotion - the baby is usually asleep.  One day during training, I had the privilege of trying the method on for size.  If you ask me, it looks quite cozy:

Fastening the baby

A day in the life of a baby

(Photo credit to Ruth, a fellow PCV)

The walk home from the hospital

It’s the beginning of my time here in village.  Everything is new – the scenery, the people, the language, the “routine”.  After two months in country, many every day happenings have become “normalized” – the melody of pounding baked yams to make fou fou, the sight of vehicles that seem to squeeze people and balance items only appropriate for Harry Potter’s Knight Bus, young children wandering unattended – however, the vernal nature that is a new place inspires a foreigner to create romanticized observations. 

I left with just enough time to get home before the daily rainstorm.  I watched the clouds move over distant villages, and approach mine.  I felt the cool winds that carry a fresh storm.  I was a spectator of a bath along the road – a fully lathered brother and sister pouring bowls of water over one another.  Sounds were of work – carpenters shaping wood, motorbikes honking, women boiling oil and frying yams.  Sounds were of greetings – there is always time to inquire about one’s family, work, and health.  Traffic moved from mosques, as men exited from the most recent worship.  Women and children passed by with items – bread, tomatoes, chili peppers, sandals, soap, beauty products, school supplies – the day’s work was complete, and it was time to go home for shelter before the storm arrived. 

Such seems to be the walk home from the hospital during this season.  I remind myself of my time and place as I find myself surpassing others along the route.  The only reason that a quick pace is necessary here is to beat the rain.  

My host family

From left to right: My host sister, me, my host father, my host mother.
Location: Palais de Congres; Lome, Togo
Occasion: Peace Corps Volunteer Swear-in Ceremony, Peace Corps Togo 50th Anniversary

From left to right: My host mother, me, my oldest host brother (Dad's brother, so technically uncle), my youngest host brother (sister's son, so technically nephew)

Location: Pre-Service Training site

Occasion: Welcome ceremony in our Pre-Service Training village

Moving treats

I am in village –visiting the local market, sitting and having a drink, going for a walk – how do I buy my favorite things?  I keep my eyes peeled, and when the moment is right, I gesture as if I am waving to a young child – opening and closing my hand – to a young 12-15 year old who is walking around with my item of choice on his or her head.  “How much?” “Okay, four please.” “Good work, good day.”  Of course, this all occurs in French, and sometimes I buy one, other times I buy eight, but either way many of my favorite things are balanced on the heads of young adolescents. 

What are these ‘favorite things’?  Pineapples, oranges, spicy tofu, sticks of homemade peanut brittle…and in about 9 months, mangoes will be on this list.

My other favorite thing, of course, resembles ice cream.  This favorite thing is transported in a cooler, and the person selling and transporting is a man on a bicycle who indicates his presence by honking his bicycle horn.  There is a horn melody that all of these magical bicycle men seem to know – regardless of the location in Togo. 

The beauty of this system?  Items come to you.  Yes, it’s sometimes challenging to locate items that are on the go.  However, when you’re having a drink or walking around and crave some fresh tofu, your life is made the moment that kid turns the corner with your craving on his or her head.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

How to explain a brief week’s insight to a new place, new people, new workplace, new home for the next two years?  How to explain the feeling of having completed two-thirds of the training that I receive before I am released to a village for two years?  How to explain the fact that 10 days from now I will be “officially sworn in” as a Peace Corps volunteer? 

Time has certainly felt different this past month and a half than it did this time last year.  I remember thinking, “how am I going to have time to sleep?”  The constant challenge of balancing my daily activities, priorities, and mental space still exists.  However, I have noticed that the motor behind finding the harmony within a day is completely self-motivated, and the melody can be just as pleasant with a slower tempo… and just as rewarding with a significant amount of sleep.  The beat of my daily life over these past few months has been anything but regular.  With the ebb and flow that is a day, week, month, hour, it is curious to examine the passing of any length of time.  Somehow, the concept of days or weeks has transformed from a calculation of hours and minutes to a broader balance of energy and goals. 

Perhaps the best way to explain is quantitatively – Over this past month and a half, I have completed about 100 hours of language training, 50 hours of cross-cultural training, 30 hours of technical training, and many other hours of training related to how to live safely in Togo.  Monday-Friday, I attend class from 7:30am-5:00pm.  Mondays and Thursdays I have French tutoring 5:30pm-6:00pm.  Saturday I have class until 12:30pm.  Sundays I take some time to myself, attend church with my host family, work on my French, and complete assignments for the upcoming week. 

And now some details about my post visit – I met most of the local authorities (chief, mayor, county-head, police staff, military personnel, hospital workers, health clinic staff, school director, and other potential work partners), I visited a smaller village outside of my “grand ville” where I visited a health clinic and monitored the progress and upkeep of 24 new latrines (a project with the Red Cross), I visited a cashew factory (who knew, right?), and I started the process of making a new house and new town a home.  I am ready to return.