Pintards after Thanksgiving

10 decembre 2011

Pintards after Thanksgiving

I have an affinity for the pintards at Taylor’s house in Lama Tessi, hence I sort of dedicate this post to them, those harbingers of morning light.

La Foire, organized by fellow SED Volunteers, was awesome. It took place at the same time as the Swearing In for the new group of volunteers – GEE (Girls Empowerment and Education) and NRM (National Resource Management). There were around 20 Togolese artisans present from all over the country including Kpalime, Bafilo, Lama Tessi, Sokode, and Dapaong. I was so impressed by a number of stands all which showcased beautiful, original, elaborate Togolese work ranging from woven bags, Batique paintings, accessories made out of recycled plastic water sachés, and woodwork. I spent more than I should have, but I see it as promoting Togolese creativity the result of which is a jolie batique for my living room and Christmas gifts for friends J Taylor and I gave a presentation on Professional Communication – much of which was improvised but seemed to have been well received by our artisan audience. We spoke of keeping professional etiquette at your boutique, i.e. not sleeping on your mat during working hours.

Woven hats created by the weavers in Bafilo

Aposto's Peace Corps collection :)

Potters from Tsevie

Ritually, a few of us returned to the Belle Vue Annex for pizza. And then the night was given to dance, champagne, the welcoming of the new volunteers, and a fair well to those returning to the land of Starbucks and warm showers. It was a time bien passe! However, Lome is exhausting and, as characterized by fellow PCVs, somewhat of a black hole for money. Despite any budgeting you might ambitiously attempt, you somehow always find yourself foraging for the last few CFAs in your purse to get back to post.

I came home only for a few days during which I met with the town’s CDQs, la Comité pour la Development de Quartier (aka Committee for the Development of the Neighborhood). Keeping my toes crossed, I want to work with these groups to improve the non extant waste management in town. One of the CDQ members in my quartier walked me to the ad hoc garbage dump in our neighborhood. The site was affecting. You watch as black sachés whirl in the wind against the backdrop of the otherwise beautiful Plateau hills. The whole neighborhood deposits their trash here and the dump appears to be the collection of a year’s worth of garbage. The black plastic has become part of the soil and I’m forgetting it shouldn’t actually be there.  

After a visit from my PCVL – the wise Ben J – I left again, this time for the village of Adgengre for our PCV Thanksgiving FEAST. For those of you who don’t know me well, I’m a big fan of Turkey Day. Although this year’s meal was not spent in the company of my mom, dad, brothers, and cousins (Alicia, Alana, and Alexa were sorely missed) it has no less obtained a special place in my memory. Around 40 volunteers got together for turkey, mashed potatoes, casserole, and a bucket load of pumpkin and apple pie (one furnished through the joint effort of V and Luc). It lacked some of the intimacy that is so beautiful about TG but spent in great company nonetheless. If nothing else, it was a culinary break from an otherwise routine diet of oatmeal, soja (tofu), and peanut butter.

I spent the next day with Taylor in Lama Tessi. That morning we received the customary pintard serenade. We spent that evening with her refreshing, imaginative, and all around awesome counterpart Mr. Aposto. We tried to explain the meaning of Thanksgiving. He had a previous volunteer before Tay. She’d told him about the binge eating that happens during the celebration but he didn’t understand its significance. We kind of ventured into an explanation of the Native American-Colonist relationship - how the meal represented a peace (imaginary or not) between the two groups after the arrival of the colonists to North America, blah, blah, blah. But importantly, how now TG is a day a person spends with those she loves the most and a celebration of the graces in life.  Next year Aposto will have a front row seat to the American shebang.

Aposto is to be admired. I had a small conversation with him about Togo cosas. His appreciation for his country, his faith in its people - in himself - is invigorating. It can be overwhelming when so many of the Togolese men and women we live with give themselves so little agency in their lives. Someone else always has control over change, be it the government or les estrangers. It’s always “ca va aller.” I was telling a friend in village (who hasn’t received a salary in two years, despite showing up to work every day) that sometimes things won’t “just go” if there’s no force to make the initial push. I, perhaps insensitively, suggested that she demand a wage or strike (a la American Progressives). It’s difficult considering that employment is not easily found in this country but to take a stand for your well-being should be instinctive. Aposto has a shop where he creates batique, clothing, and his own African-centric art pieces. He represents the very real struggles faced by the poor African population - health, economic, social - in stark pieces. Yes, subtlety might be lost (condoms separating a scene of death from one of life). Yet it’s good to see a community leader using art as a medium to reach his audience, rather than the doldrums of “development politics.”   

Plus, he’s super sweet to his girlfriend. When Tay and I arrived, they were having an intimate picnic underneath his peyote (until the tactless Americans interrupted). We don’t often witness affection between couples here and so it makes my soul smile when I do. Hence we arrive at Lennon’s - too often sited but not any less valid - words of wisdom, “all you need is love.” And with that Vache Qui Riz, I leave you for now.