Pretty in Sotouboua

Yesterday I found myself playing dress-up with five elderly African women in a remote village of Sotouboua, a long, long way from, well, anything. They were a group of weavers who hand spin yards of a specialty “pagne” worn by what they call the “big mamas.” I was there to evaluate their request to receive one of the U.S. Embassy’s Self Help grants. After hours of holding on for dear life in the back of a Land Cruiser, we walked into a semi-dark mud building with partial walls and rusty manual weaving machines. Everything around blended into the rust colored dust that covered everything in the village except for me, my giant white 4x4 and bolts and bolts of colorful, sparkly fabric.

I let my Togolese coworker start asking stern questions about how they finance their business, who’s in charge of taking product to market, and what they plan to do with U.S. money, while I started quietly snapping photos of my surroundings to take it all in. Once questions got to the actual product, one of the elderly women started to model how the fabric is wrapped and worn in different ways for special events. She began to strut her stuff, swinging her hips a little wider and moving her arms like the aforementioned “big mamas” and laugh from the fun of it all. I snapped away and showed her the best portrait.

Her response? Utter glee and, "je suis jolie!", a statement that translates simply to “I am pretty!”

Soon we all found ourselves talking at once, swapping colors, laughing and eventually wrapped up in various pagne. More photos were snapped and each of the women was delighted to see themselves on camera.

Let me be clear that none of these women are pretty by any standards of beauty familiar to us. They’ve lived hard lives and it shows. But they loved seeing themselves in photos and not one of them flinched or cringed the way women in our culture do.

I suddenly felt foolish and shallow for all of my self-judging every time a photo is opened. I can’t imagine a single woman I know responding to a self portrait with such carefree happiness. If anyone ever did we’d all think she was a stuck-up, good-for-nothing-but-her-fake-(fill in the blank) bleep-bleep-bleep. Or something like that. We all secretly hate our own images in some way, and hate any women who doesn’t hate hers! It’s messed up.

I know that moment in Sotouboua won’t change my own ingrained Western perception of beauty, perhaps beyond biting my internal tongue when I inwardly groan at the site of tiny wrinkles around my eyes. But I admired those women in that moment, even envied them. And envy is not a feeling I’ve experienced, well, ever, since moving to Togo. It caught me completely off guard, and for that I am touched.

Sex Ed in Afrique

The pictures you see here, aside from being hysterically amazing, give you a tiny glimpse into Western attempts to improve Public Health in the Developing World. The one of Joey is him next to a Vagina Maze, that's right people, and the one of me is from an HIV awareness event at a military health clinic.

Let's start with the picture of me and the military men. The Togolese rely on skits to educate people on health and social issues in village settings and we were watching one when this photo was snapped. The plot line was typical to this part of the world: man sleeps with a woman besides his wives (yes, I said wives), contracts HIV, and gives it to his wives who also happen to be pregnant. Both of them.

The wives find out because they're the responsible ones who go to get tested, and are terrified of telling their husband. They eventually do, after tip-toeing around him and never questioning where he was the night before, or the night before that, or the night before that (even though they were just told they have friggin' HIV because of him!!!). I found this point in the drama alarming. Not only was the husband not questioned or reprimanded, the audience didn't seem to bat an eye about that missing bit of action.

Once informed of Wives diseases, Husband storms out without an apology or explanation (at which point I'm trying not to look to my left where all the women were sitting and give them a "why aren't you boo-ing and "hellz no-ing" at this chump?" look). Husband eventually gives wives leave to attend follow-up treatment to prevent mother-to-child HIV, which was the point of the skit. Gee, isn't that so modern of him? Meanwhile, his mistress is also pregnant, but doesn't bother receiving treatment, as she's not a Wise Wife figure in this story, and her (bastard) child ends up with the disease.

Sigh. It's important for U.S. development efforts to have a local flair like this, but sometimes it's hard when some of the messaging isn't exactly in line with our beliefs.

Another example of cultures colliding comes from a U.S. military Doc I met at a training I was able to attend in Germany. He was somewhere in Central Africa counseling a young woman on how to use condoms appropriately. He used a penis-like statue to show her how to safely put on and remove condoms, and made sure she understood by having her practice with a few condoms as well. Once he was confident in her technique, he sent her on her way.

She came back six months later and tested positive for HIV. The doctor was surprised, as she'd seemed eager to keep herself safe. He asked if she'd been using the condoms. Her response? "Yes! I even kept the condom statue by my bed to be extra sure I was protected!"

I don't tell this story to imply that people here are stupid. It just illustrates a deep chasm in communication and realities between our world and theirs. That, and it highlights how lacking basic levels of education are. The Dept. of Defense now uses more life-like dolls, complete with sex organs, to make sure nothing is lost in translation.

Joey and I also had the chance to spend two days at a Peace Corps camp for young girls who show leadership promise. One of the many activities they experienced over the week was a tour through a giant vagina. Now, the Peace Corps has no money, so this life-size vagina was made of pagne (African fabric) and wood. But the girls got a tour of their cervix and fallopian tubes nonetheless, and many were shocked. Most had no idea how their bodies worked before that. Ladies, try and imagine being 16 or 17 and not understanding where your period comes from or why you get pregnant. How are young girls expected to make smart decisions for themselves when they don't have the basic tools (knowledge, empowerment, etc) to do so?

I could go on and on, but I'll end with this: in the midst of all the struggles we're facing in the U.S. with our own country, take a moment to be grateful for the education, services and infrastructure we DO have. The little things we all take for granted, like Sex Ed, have huge impacts on our lives. Thank god I was never so in the dark! I'm also thankful I won the birth-right lottery and was born a woman in the United States in this century. It is heartbreaking how shitty women have it here.

Whirlwind

The last few months have brought more changes than we've experienced in years. And that's saying a lot for two people who got hitched, moved to D.C., and then moved to Togo. A quick breakdown:

Surgery for Joey
Many of you might not have known about Joey's struggle with pain over the last two years. For a long time we had no idea what the real problem was - only that his hands and arms were in excruciating pain. With the help of Courtney & Chester, we finally found a surgeon who knew exactly what the problem was and said she could fix him. So we spent close to 2 months in St. Louis, where both of Joey's arms were operated on. It was no fun for him, aside from the ability to watch every World Series of Poker games over and over, and we still have months of healing ahead of us. But the nerve pain has begun to subside and we're hopeful that this is the beginning of the end to that horrible health chapter!

A New Post
We recently found out that our next post will be in Norway! Talk about a paradigm shift. Of the 172 countries ranked by the World Bank for GDP per capita, Norway is #4 whereas Togo is #164. We're most excited about the ski resort that's 20 minutes outside of Oslo, hiking paths scattered throughout the city, the chance to sail, cross-country ski and even dog sled! In short, we look forward to the fresh air and chance to get physically fit again. We're saddened by what happened there recently though; it seems that no place is immune to dogmatic fanaticism.

On a different note, if you ever hear Joey worry over wasting 6 months of his life learning Norwegian, please remind him that it's his wet dream to speak Viking. You all know it's true too.

3 Weddings, a Funeral and a 40th Bday
I was fortunate enough to be back in the U.S. for three of my good friends' weddings. All stages of life were hit in various parts of the country: high school wedding in MA, college wedding in FL, and SF wedding in SF (the only obvious fit here!). Then I got to be a part of the fabulous surprise 40th Michelle planned for Rick. Sadly, after all of this family and friends time, my grandmother passed away a few days after we arrived back in Togo. We have been fortunate to be there for the good times and the bad with the people we love most. Considering we live in W. Africa I consider us pretty darn lucky for that.

A New Job
My new official title is "Development Projects Special Assistant." Oo-la-la. It's a full-time gig at the embassy managing USAID, Dept. of Defense and Humanitarian Assistance funding that comes through Togo. So far I have played Vanna White in many a check delivery ceremony, visited HIV+ Togolese women in their homes, questioned high-ranking Togolese military men about their vague transportation budgets, and politely took a giant box of condoms from a Colonel in charge of HIV prevention and Family Planning. I'm heading to Germany in August for a week of training at a military base on managing DoD funds. It's a pretty cool job and it's proving to be key in helping me get through our remaining year here.

A Safari
My parents flew back to Africa with me to see Togo and then head to Tanzania with us. Laine had previously avoided all airplane bathrooms her entire life. Can you believe that!? She'd never before been on a flight longer than 5 hours and always figured she'd just hold it. Obviously that wasn't going to work for this trip. Her impressions of such a ground breaking moment? Quote worthy!

"They're so small! How does anyone join the "Mile High Club" in there?"

I kid you not.

The rest of the trip was equally amusing. Stan helped Joey invent words their "Safari Man" song, Laine tortured Stan with a million questions to the Massai Warrior in the tiny Dung Hut, and we all fought constantly when losing at bridge (it's just a slightly competitive bunch). We would recommend the safari to everyone - it's an amazing thing to see 100 elephants crossing your path in the middle of nowhere Serengeti.

Despite the fun, we are happy to be back with Nala! The adventure continues...

Togo Randoms: Boobies, Potted Instruments, Bikes and Doggie Raciscm

Boobies at the President's House
Ooo do I have your attention now! According to embassy sources (if Wikileaks can do it, hey, why not me?) the Prez-Man gave himself a Boobie Party on Friday night. Sadly for Joey, he did not receive an invite to said event, but our good friend did. He said he felt like a creepy 40-year-old man watching 20-year-olds dance topless all under the watchful eye of his boss. Awkward! The performance was supposed to illustrate the "traditional virgin's dance" that occurs in villages. Mind you, this dance is typically done in villages by girls aged 11-13 (actual virgins), but, hey. The Prez likes his virgins a little older. Let's hope. Can you imagine the hey-day if Obama threw himself a titty party and invited diplomats around the world to join? Ah Togo.

Dobet Gnahore: A Must-Hear Lady from Cote D'Ivoire
Since I already said "titty" in this post, I should refrain from saying "Badass" but what the h*&%. Badass Dobet Gnahore is. Her concert on Sunday night and it was everything you'd hope to get from a West African concert: raw vocals, awesome percussion (she played a clay pot!!!), and dancing that made me feel very white. It was incredible. See if she's playing in SF or NYC and go to her show.

Bike Riding Makes People Happy
I saw this on Oprah and thought, I should get myself a bike. So I asked Francis to find me a bike with a basket on the front of it and, voila, that afternoon I rode a bike around the neighborhood with Nala and felt like I was 10 again. The main benefit of this is that it makes it possible to visit the fruit lady and buy bread during hours other than 7AM and 6PM. It is SO hot right now that I would previously walk my errands and come home red, sweaty and cranky. Now, with my little red bike, I get a lovely fake breeze as I bring home all of the mangoes, avocados and baguettes I want. I am very happy indeed. Go buy yourself a bike and smile.

Is Nala Racist!?
I came home last week from school and Clara told me that she had been talking to Francis and the guards and they'd decided that Nala doesn't like black people. "Yes, we see Nala act all happy when your white friends come, but she is not like that with us. I need to have a talk with her and tell her that, Nala, you are black too!" This was all said with a smile and a lot of laughter, something that is an interesting thing to get used to. I was embarrassed of my dog's behavior (really she just senses a difference in our relationship because Nala doesn't act this way with our black friends, plus I think I read somewhere that dogs are colorblind) but Clara thinks it's funny. Even today at school my students were joking about painting their skin white to be European Colonizers for International Day. I am learning to laugh with them.

Nunchuck Skills

Boy I have really dropped the ball with this thing. I probably have no readers left after my dismal posting record so far. Jumping back in the saddle!

I recently recalled a conversation I had with one of Joey's friends about my good luck in developing what he called my "nunchuck skills." You know, like bowhunting skills, computer hacking skills... skills! (Sorry for those of you who haven't see Napolean Dynamite...)

Jen's Newly Acquired SKILLZ: Speaking French - check. Becoming a yoga teacher - check. Teaching at an International School - check. Taking tennis lessons & Learning Bridge like the proper diplomat's wife that I am - check. Writing grants for NGOs - check.

The latter nunchuck addition is a recent development. I had the chance to go to Niger as a part of the grant research process. Here's a quick rundown of the experience:

- I had many internal chuckles re: the contrast of my life pre and post Foreign Service. Previous meetings consisted of serious debates over print ads and current ones entail strategizing how to lower birth defects in rural villages. Oh the curve balls life can throw!

- There are camels walking down the streets of Niamey. Huge, awesome camels.

- Almost as cool were the donkey carts everywhere.

- Camels + Donkeys = Love.

- The contrast between Egypt (palpable intensity around the Muslim faith resonating through the streets) and Niger (moderate influences of Muslim religion seen in clothing and prayer mats) was fascinating.

- Sadly, extremists are taking hold there, resulting in kidnappings of Westerners, a mass exodus of expats from the country, and a severe safety regiment for those who remain. We felt safe, but could not leave our hotel at night or visit the country outside of Niamey. Which is a total bummer because apparently there are giraffes and hippos nearby.

- How so many people can survive in the Sahara Desert is beyond me. No thank you.

- Visiting Niger made me very glad that I live in Togo. Who'd have thunk. Niger is only slightly poorer than Togo on the international ranking list of average GDP. But when you're THAT poor, those extra 50 Cents per person make a huge difference. You can't even imagine.

The grant I'm writing is for a massive program to prevent and rehabilitate people with disabilities (physical and mental). It involves everything from training more doctors to planting gardens and teaching families with a disabled child to feed themselves and generate extra income.

I used to have $2 Million to plan a Super Bowl ad and buy the media. Now I have it to save starving babies in Africa. I smell the makings of a very cliched memoir! Heehee.

This whole thing Joey and I are doing is not always easy. Not even close. For instance, the place we stayed at on Saturday night was flea infested with brown amoeba filled water coming from the faucets, and we recently had to tell our cook that, no, we can't give him a $600 loan so that he can get electricity for his daughters to study over more than a tiny lantern. (Don't judge too harshly on the last one - we did the math on his salary and were concerned that he doesn't have enough to pay us back plus keep food on the table and keep his daughters in school).

But it's opportunities like this trip to Niger that make me thankful for being put in what's quite often a difficult place. Don't get me wrong. I am seriously hoping for Spain or Argentina next post. In the meantime, I admit that it's a pretty cool thing to see a little bit of life from this lens.

Ghana's Wonderful Jesus Classic Cosmetics

I know it's been awhile, but I have an excuse. Since the beginning of January, I've been traveling. Five weeks were spent jetting between Ghana, Egypt, Israel and Benin.

I'll begin the chronicles with some nuggets from Ghana (see a few photos here).

As soon as we crossed the border from Togo to Ghana, a shift was apparent. First of all, everything was in English, and we soon saw that the majority of signs had something to do with God or Jesus. With all respect to God and Jesus, it was quite funny. Here are some of our favorites:

Wonderful Jesus Classic Cosmetics
Amen Cold Store
Hope in God Auto Shop
I Am Saved Herbal Clinic
In God We Trust Barbering Salon and Business Center
God Is Able Electrical Works
God's Glory Fashion
The Lord is My Shepherd Food Stand
Glory Gas
Try Jesus Fashion
God's Will Architecture Services
By the Grace of God Fast Food
Psalm 100 Radiator Specialist

As I was generally in the middle seat between Don and Carol, and the roads were generally atrocious, I did not get photos of this amazingness. Next time for sure.

Layer on ever-present Ghanaian music, complete with tom-toms (bongos), and the scene gets better. Music is an essential part of West African culture and for whatever reason, Ghana blares its music while Togo keeps it private. A fun soundtrack awaited us at every village.

In general, it seems that Ghanaians are more proud of their country than the Togolese is of theirs. Ghana is touted as the golden-child of West Africa and, although it's still very poor as well, you see signs of development everywhere. They sometimes seem minor on the surface: street lights outside of the capital city, the occasional 4-lane road, official signs to villages, and more cars than motos. But if things continue this way, Ghana will be very much changed in 10 years, while Togo will be exactly where it is now.

My favorite part of the trip was visiting the slave castle in Elmina. If you ever have the chance to visit Ghana, don't miss this stop. Although it's tough to see such a terrible side of human history.

Aside from the sites, Carol started learning to play Bridge (yes, I now play Bridge and tennis and all sorts of ladies-who-leisure type things). It was a fun beginning to the upcoming travels!

Joey makes quite the Santa

Christmas is not that big of a deal in Togo. People celebrate it, but nothing like back home. But the American International School, where I work, likes to infuse bits of U.S. culture into the environment. And what's Christmas for little ones without Santa?

Pretty Crappy, that's what.

The original Santa Clause bailed at the last minute. The director asked me the day before Santa's scheduled appearance if Joey would be willing to play the part.

What the director didn't know is that Mr. Joseph never turns down the opportunity to be in costume. Ever.

So it was her lucky day.

A few things to note about these pictures of Santa Joey:

1. The Santa suit was WAY too short for him. We all assumed this would be the case, so he came prepared with tall black socks. This worked to cover his legs when he was standing, but when he sat down you could see a strip of hairy-man-leg above his knee socks. If I didn't know better I might have thought he was of the creepy Santa sorts ;)

2. We couldn't get the pillow to stay on his stomach. It kept creeping up, making him look like a skinny santa with big boobs.

3. The morning assemblies are held under a Paillote, or little Tiki hut type thing. "Santa" had to bend down in order to come under and say hello to the kids. You'll see from the pictures that their initial ecstatic expressions turned wide-eyed as they looked up at him. As one little one said in a hushed voice: "I didn't know Santa was so tall."

4. Before that he rang that huge bell you see in the photos as he came down the hall. The kids were screaming their little heads off. Joey later told me that he was actually a little nervous about the whole thing: "I could see in their eyes that they actually thought I was Santa Clause."

5. Joey missed the best part of the morning when he was in hiding. Before Santa came, the little ones did some traditional African dancing for the school. You'll see the kids in a line and then each one stood in a circle drawn with chalk on the ground to do this funny little dance with their hips. It was a riot. I wish I had video to share.

We miss all of you very much during this holiday season. Enjoy this little tid-bit of the holidays in Togo!