Friday, June 8, 2012

A whole lot of nothings


Lately, I’ve noticed how much I’ve grown attached to Badou. Last week Taylor visited me. It’s cool to share your post with a good friend – makes it feel more like home. We went to the falls; had dinner with a really special family, who made us fufu with a mushroom and goat stew (freakin amazing – I wish more Togolese would collect mushrooms); and watched some TV avec au-village sundaes (involving Fan Choco, bananas, peanuts, and Parle-G crackers) and popcorn. I love that girl’s company.

Fufu, the meal of choice for a Togolese and by association PCVs.  First, one boils ignames, nothing like American yams, (in addition to yuca, platanos, or taro). After boiling the ignames, women place them in a large wooden mortar to be pounded into a paste-like consistency. Two people with large wooden pestles consecutively pound into the yams for about 10 minutes - you have to work up the appetite needed to injest about a pound worth of straight starch. The pestles are continuously dipped into untreated water, and I like to believe that since I’ve been here for a year the use of this water no longer has an immediate (operative word) effect on me. There’s nothing that fills the belly like a bowl of fufu.







Chimen and Penobe –  some of my favorites. They change between surprisingly, too-mature-for-their-age, independent young women to silly annoying school girls. They both prepare most of the meals for the family; help sell food stuffs in the market; and rent a room for themselves in Badou during the school week. And they don’t realize how independent and capable they are.  Penobe, 18, has been ‘proposed’ to by a teacher in her school. The man is married with children. The freedoms that teachers take in this country with students are one of the most exhausting things we have to see. If you want more details, email me. All I can do is to remind her of how young she is; how many other options she has; and how capable and uncommitted she is right now.

 For me, it’s kind of like having the younger sisters I wanted when I was growing up. They live about 15 minutes outside of Badou, on a small farm. They climb these hills with simple flip flops, carrying all sorts of things on their heads – from fire wood to fruit to large silver basins of water; while I fall on my ass with a good pair of Teva sandals, reminds me of how coddled we are chez nous. Chimen prepared a meal of pate and sauce arachide for me. I’m swept away by her generosity and a little embarrassed at my dull reciprocity. I don’t like to cook so I give her American snacks I get in packages; yet I feel the missing element of care that is so endearing when I am invited to eat with them. I watched a storm roll in while I was at their farm, big clouds and creeping fog over the green mountains – breathtaking. If you get the chance, pay me a visit.

And lastly, my house and puppy. There it is folks. Three bedrooms, bathroom, kitchen, and living room. More space than I know what to do with. Seriously, in one room I hang my underwear to dry and in another I put boxes I need to burn.  My puppy’s name is Kau and he’s going on 6 months. He’s a cutie-patutie who likes his bellied rubbed; dry fish with pate; with the most heart wrenching big ears this new puppy mom has ever seen.