Togo Tales: From West to Northwest to East... My American Homecoming

Hello everyone!  Well... I guess I'm a bit late on this last installment.  What should have been an August postl fell into a September one and before I knew it, here's January... So my apologies in advance... but lets see if I can concisely catch everyone up on what's been going on for the past several months of my life.  It is safe to say that the last few months has felt like its own year altogether.

As many of you have since observed, I am no longer in Togo.  I'm not back in Alaska either, nor Seattle.  In fact, I have returned to the states, but this time I'm braving new waters and have relocated to the east coast... Washington DC to be exact!  But how did I get here?

First, the last bits of Africa:

The month of August was very exciting, mostly because I got to travel to two new countries for work: Equatorial Guinea and Benin.  These embassies had caught wind of the work I was doing in Togo and flew me over to do projects there.  I basically got paid to travel up and down the two countries giving teacher training workshops... which was pretty great.

EQUATORIAL GUINEA: A DICTATORIAL PARADISE

So this country was by far the most interesting one I had been to in the region, mostly because it was such a mix of contradictions.  On the surface, it had the appearance of being one of the most developed looking countries I had visited in the region, thanks to large oil reserves off its coast.  However I soon discovered that this was bit of a facade for the fact that its people live under one of the longest-running dictatorships in the world!  I imagine its tolerated globally because the US was the country who discovered (or its oil companies) oil there (AND benefit from its business, AND are the only country to be able to come and go as they please without visas).  Basically if Equato-Guineans kept their heads down and did what they were told, they had a relatively fine life.  but the moment they tried to protest anything, they disappeared.  And get this, the internet blocks there were SO bad that even the CHINESE Embassy had to by equipment to get around it!

Other notable limitations on freedom: no youth organizations allowed (because apparently youth gathering together is 'bad'), all organizations have to be officially registered with the government (in order to keep watch), and the term 'democratic' was not a good thing.  This vice-grip on expression was very evident with the teachers I worked with, who were visibly uncomfortable with training session on "promoting critical thinking in the classroom" because it "seemed too much like it was promoting democratic values"... needless to say, there was some tricky terrain to side-step around

BENIN 

Benin was a whole other story altogether.  Togo's neighbor to the east, it is actually a lot like Togo, only a tad bit bigger, richer, and tastier.  This is also the true center of Voodoo, and it was seen everywhere.   In fact, even when I was going on runs along the big beach in  the capitol city of Cotonou, I would come across people performing voodoo baptismal ceremonies (as I was later informed).  I had observed this man in a white robe (common for voodoo), and a woman in a prayer position, surrounded by lit candles.  I figured they did not want to be bothered.  

After a workshop, some teachers took me out to a very fascinating village called Ganvie, which was literally a n entire village on stilts over a large pond/lake.  It kind of reminded me of the movie "Waterworld", where people basically rode boats from floating community to floating community.  "Markets" consisted of a group of boats that had their goods on them that people paddled to and sold from.  A fascinating place.

THE US, ROAD TRIP, AND BEYOND!

Then things really accelerated.  I had been applying to new jobs for the last few months of my contract, while also entertaining the idea of staying a second year in Togo.  In the end I was contacted by an NGO in DC called World Learning (that I had met a year ago) about a job opportunity, and one thing led to another and voila, I got offered a position!  It was an agonizing week trying to decide what to do, as I had always "been abroad", and slightly vagabond-ish.  But while Togo had been great and amazing in so many ways, I eventually realized that after some intense reflection I decided that I was ready to stay put in one place for a while.

What I did learn is that the next time I decide to leave somewhere at the last minute, I'm not going to go around and tell people individually, but all at once.  It was kind of like breaking up with someone every day for a week straight, having to surprise each person, assure them that it wasn't because of them or Togo I was leaving, but that I had decided to do something different, yadda yadda.... but I got through it, and after a tearful farewell I headed back to Alaska for about enough time to pack up some things and head off with my parents on an equally intense road trip across the country to DC!  3 people, one subcompact Toyota Yaris, and about 7 days of ferry-then-driving from Juneau to DC (with a several day pause in Seattle in between).  It was fast and exhausting, but really really cool to see the country change from west-to-east.

So now I'm in DC.  Working for "World Learning" has been pretty great because it focuses on educational development projects abroad (which primarily consist of large-scale teacher training programs).  While I'm not in the classroom anymore, which has been a weird adjustment, I'm now part of a team that gets to plan larger-scale versions of what I was doing in Togo.  It's been a transition, but really neat to learn how to affect education though different mediums, while still getting to use my experience in the field to help craft projects.  It also appears I'm taking a temporary break from African projects too as the current projects I'm focused on are in Lebanon and Pakistan.

But that's where I'm at.  DC is a pretty fascinating city; very international and full of young professionals all doing really cool things.  While my first and second love are out west (Alaska and then Seattle) and I definitely hope to get back soon enough, I think this will be a neat place to spend a bit of time.  To be honest, it just feels really really good to not have to plan what I'm doing in a year.  I loved the transient vagabond lifestyle I had, and which allowed me to experience many cool places and people.  But what I also realized is everyone has their threshold, and for me it was time to take a pause from the movement and spend time developing a bit of a home base for a while.  Is this the end to my travels?  Hardly.  I'm sure that soon enough I'll get the itch to see new horizons again.  But at this point I think I'm pretty content to not force the matter and just see where life evolves.  After six years of always feeling like I need to be planning my next step, I'm finally ready to chill out and see what comes my way organically.  Or so I say now..... :)

At any rate, thanks all for your e-mails, messages, words of encouragement, or just staying in touch.  While my dispatches probably made my last year sound like it was all just fun and adventure, it definitely is not easy to stay away from friends, family, and loved ones for so long.  Hearing from you all helps me remember how many great people I've been fortunate to meet along my journeys.  If any of you find your way to the east coast or DC area, give me a ring (360-319-0344).  But until then, I hope life is treating you well, and as they say in Togo, "On es ensemble" (we are together)

A la prochaine mes amis!

Phil

Togo Tales: Ghanaian Travels - Border hopping, hospital visiting, slave castle exploring, and all other "ings" of adventure in Ghana

“You see, the problem is that you stamped your passport on the Togo side of the border, but not on the Ghana side.  So it shows that you legally left Togo, but there is no proof that you legally entered Ghana…”

While the logic of Koffi, the border control agent, may be correct; it still interferes with our travel plans.

“I know what you’re saying, and we meant to stamp our passports, but when we walked across the border no one told us to do anything differently!  Also by the time we make the hour trip back to the border, then come back to Accra, it will be dark, and the streets won’t be safe at night!” I try to reason.  For the record, all of this was true, we didn’t mean to not get stamped; and it wasn’t until we hit a second border control an hour down the road that we realized our error.  After being discovered and told to get out of the van, I tried my best to put on my charm with the young cute border agent who first caught us.  But apparently I am no James Bond, because we were quickly ushered into the office of her boss.  Note to self: never try and flirt your way out of an illegal entry into a country

Koffi shifts uncomfortably in his seat, clearly conflicted with this ethical dilemma.  He glances down at the book he was reading when we were brought in, titled “The Power of Positive Thinking”, and takes a deep breath. “Okay, I can let you go” He says finally after breathing out a huge sigh, “but just know if you get stopped by any customs agent or police, you may have problems or have to pay a penalty”.

We thank Koffi profusely, and as we get up to leave he asks: “by the way, what do you guys do?”  “I’m a lawyer”, responds my friend Charlyves.  “…and I’m a teacher. I teach English teachers in Togo” I add.  “Oh!” exclaims Koffi, “teaching is what I really want to do.  But for now I’m trying to be a border agent.”  We step out into the warm Ghanaian sun, and are greeted by our bus driver and a couple passengers who apparently had been waiting for us.  “Did you get to continue?”  They ask.  I flash them a grin and the thumbs up sign, to which they clap and shout “Oh!  We were praying you would be able to come!  Never make that mistake again!”

Most stories in the news concerning African countries love to highlight its struggles; and to be fair, there are many.  However one country has managed to keep itself out of the violence that has consumed its neighbors and has inexplicably created a reputation for being in the news more for what it has been doing right.  That country, Ghana, has a good resume to show for it too.  It has the 9^th largest economy on the continent (5^th in sub-Saharan Africa), which is diversified among several markets, notably the production of coca (2^nd in the world), gold, and since 2011, oil (estimated to be the 25^th largest reserves in the world).   In fact, the World Bank has even ranked Ghana as a Lower-Middle Income Economy, a title shared by few other nations on the continent.  Add to that a rich culture and important history in the slave trade and you find yourself one interesting place to watch for in the future.  It was on this precedent that Charlyves, my friend visiting friend from France, and I decided to poke our heads in and see what all the fuss was about.

ACCRA

Several hours after our apparently “illegal” entry into Ghana we finally arrive in Accra, Ghana’s capital and invertible beating heart.  Compared to Lomé in Togo, Accra could be New York.  Solid concrete roads carpeting every street, a downtown lined with shiny new glittering skyscrapers, and two shopping malls filled with all the modern amenities a homesick expat could desire.  It was really too much.  However, while it was clear that Accra was the center of development in Ghana, it also had its fair share of the other extreme: slums sat side to side with fancy neighbor hoods, rich right by the poor.  It was perhaps this contrast that was more jarring.  In fact, as we would soon see, once you leave Accra most of Ghana looks a lot like Togo, meaning not very developed.  Apparently, for all the attention Ghana’s getting, it seems as though all the development only really happens in the capital… like everywhere else in Africa.  Regardless, Charlyves and I spent our time mostly wandering the streets and saying to ourselves “wow, this sure looks different than Togo”.

We depart by bus the next day for Cape Coast, a city that built its name as the center of the slave trade.  One joy about bus travel in Ghana is the built in TVs that play Nigerian soap operas.  “Nollywood”, as it is known, is pretty much the most ridiculous thing you will ever see on TV.  Modeled (theoretically) after the classic Hispanic soap operas, these movies move beyond ridiculousness with plot lines following such stories as a voodoo possessed goat, princes claiming wives, and randomly thrown in love scenes that make the bus ride more than uncomfortable.

CAPE COAST

Charlyves folds his sleeve and stick out his arm for the shot.  However the nurse shakes her head and pats her behind.  “Wait, what does that mean?” Charlyves asks me, slightly confused.  “Sorry man, I think you’re going to have to take this shot in the butt” I tell him.  “Oh putain!” he cursed under his breath in French as he undoes his belt and walks behind the door. 

To be fair Charlyves has had a rough night.  Hours ago he came down with an intense fever, which, like any illness in Africa, is about as much fun as a root canal.  Also the public Ghanaian hospital we are in is not exactly a place to soothe your woes.  I glance around the room and count the numerous bloody bandages littering the floor, as well as the many spiders and ants crawling along the walls.  Just minutes before his shot, the nurse was actually trying to break the vial over the edge of a table instead of just inserting needle.  We also experienced an old man passing away in a bed right next to us as we were waiting for the doctor.  “If I wasn’t 

sick before getting here… I sure will be by the time I leave here” whimpered Charlyves.  I don’t know why, but somehow I keep finding myself in hospitals in Africa.

SLAVERY

Besides frequenting hospitals, we spent two days visiting the famous Cape Coast Castle and Elmina Castle, two of the biggest slave trading posts back at the height of slavery.  Cape Coast in particular holds the distinction of being the principle exporter of slaves to the US, and the castle Obama visited in his 2008 trip to Ghana.

At times it's truly amazing how horrible humans can be to each other.  Slavery was a terrible era for people, which is not news to anyone.  However I never realized what it looked like on the other side of the Atlantic.  To be fair, slavery did not start with colonization.  In fact most African tribes took slaves from other tribes for centuries.  However the commercialization of slavery is what propelled it to new heights.  While some European “slavers” went on their own raids to capture Africans as slaves, they more often hired tribes that already were raiding villages and paid them to deliver the prisoners.  Once delivered to the Europeans, slaves were then kept in the various slave castles sprinkled along the coast of West Africa. 

“Now everyone, look down at the ground.  Do you see how in parts of this cell the ground is smoother than other parts?  This area has been tested, and it was found that this ground is made up of urine, blood, and feces of former slaves.  This layer of the prison is made of their bodies.” 

This comment from our guide at Cape Coast Castle sent a shiver down my spine.  When you hear words like “genocide” or “stoning”, or “slavery”, you know that it’s terrible.  However if you’re like me, it’s impossible to truly understand what that really means until you look at it in the face (or the remains of it).  I think that’s the best way to describe my reaction to this prison.  Walking on a prison floor made from the waste of humans who used to be there, and seeing the claw marks on the stone walls of people who, packed together in tiny cells, dying of starvation and desperately trying to escape, well it leaves an impression.

KAKUM NATIONAL PARK & COOKING LESSONS

On a more uplifting note, we also went into Kakum National Park, where you can walk on a rope bridge strung up among the tops of very tall trees, and literally walk out “on top” of the rainforest.  It was fascinating to see a forest from this angle.  It was also made more entertaining by the 30-person American tourist group from Utah, which besides fitting every major tourist cliché, spent their time chasing down their children who had no qualms sprinting from tree to tree, several hundred feet from the ground.  That evening, after Charlyves passed out (still sick) in the hotel room, I befriended a Ghanaian who worked at my hotel, who invited me to her communal home (communal as in the entire family lives in one big compound), to teach me how to make Ghanaian food.  It was neat to see a traditional Ghanaian home... I think her grandmother was a bit fond of me though, because she cornered me and made me chat with her for a good hour.  Another note to self: my charms work much better on grandmothers than cute border agents.

Eventual, a trip needs to end, so Charlyves and I board a bus to head back.  At the border we are greeted with less-than-enthusiastic border control agents, with whom we engage in a lovely debate about how much to pay for a penalty (bribe) for not getting our passport stamped.  Eventually we settle on $20 after the penalty (bribe) went from $15 to $50.  Arriving at my home, tired and beat, we go to the door, and realized we are locked out.  “It’s okay” Charlyves says.  “I actually find this quit a fitting end to the journey”.

I hope everyone is well!  I come back to the US in a month!  The next update: Equatorial Guinea and Benin!

Togo Tales: Nuns, Runs, and Some Thoughts About Education in Africa

I lace up my shoes, fill up my water bottle, and head out the door.  Waving to the nuns roaming in the courtyard, I shout a “À toute a l’heure!” and begin trotting down the steps.  Heading past the convent walls, I hop across a creek and set off on my run down the rust-red dusty path of the small Togolese town of Atakpame.

The past couple months have been interesting ones out here in Togo, complete with new adventures and old faces.  At the end of May I was blessed with a visit from my sister Gretchen.  Fresh off her glacier guiding contract in New Zealand, she decided to take the long way home and pass through a few countries, Togo included.  It was fantastic, and in some ways bizarre, so see someone from my other (dare I say “real”?) life out here.  Usually when I go abroad I have the impression that I've teleported to another dimension for a year because I rarely get visitors from “back home”.  Anyways, Bro and Sis did some major backpacking around Togo: hiking mountains, checking out fetish markets, and meeting the locals.  I think my sister got a few dozen marriage proposals while here (and to be fair, so did I!).  We also took a weekend trip to the bizarrely modern capital of Ghana, Accra.  In all, it was a great time.

Jogging past crumbling farm homes and curious onlookers, I wind around rolling green hills, eventually trudging up to the top of one small “mountain” (using directions from random farmers), which rewarded me with a majestic sunset-filled view of the lush, mountainous valley.  Heading down the other side, I accidentally cut across someone’s front yard, and start down a dirt path deep into the thick, tropical forest.

June has seen somewhat of a change of scenery for me.  I've spent the month up in a small mountain town called Atakpame, as a guest lecturer at teacher training college.  It’s a beautiful place and, as evidence of my earlier narrative, a great place for adventure runs J. The teacher training college is actually one of only two that exist in Togo, and the ONLY one training teachers for middle schools.  It has proven to be a really inspiring experience.  After spending months working with teachers who have almost no training in pedagogy or educational theory, I now find myself with a group of young teachers-to-be who have a foundation in all of it.  These teacher training colleges used to function for years, but closed their doors during a period of civil unrest in the 90’s, and didn't reopen until about 3 years ago.  So I get the pleasure of teaching the first class of graduates since its reopening.

Another real entertaining aspect of my time here is that they have me staying at a convent.  Yes a convent.  I live in a convent in the hills of Africa.  It’s like the novel-writer’s paradise!  It’s where the college decided for me to stay (“so you can be closer to God” as they told me), and thus I spend a lot of time hanging out with nuns.  I even went on a hike with a nun.  It’s all a lot like the Sound of Music.  Only a very very African Sound of Music.

I eventually come upon a small village on the outskirts of town. Probably 7 months ago I would have felt rather uncomfortable just “popping in” to this village that likely hadn't seen a white guy in months.  However living in Africa has a way of dissolving any notion of when you should and should not feel awkward (not that I was very adept at this to begin with), and so here I am, bouncing through town and saying hi to bewildered people without a sense of how weird it must have been for them.  To be fair, the villagers appear delighted to meet the curious stranger in their midst.  One man, Olivier, joins me on my run for a few minutes, eventually taking me to the home of his friend, a “traditional medicine practitioner” (aka voodoo witch doctor), who shows me his charms and explains how they help you see the past and future, (or “kill the man who slept with your wife”... as he further elaborated).  Another man, Koffi, takes me to the home of his brother and introduced me to the entire family.  Later a group of teens invite me to join them for soccer the later in the week!

Working with these teacher trainees has gotten me thinking a lot about education in Africa, and the nature of my work here.  Like most developing counties, Togo faces similar hurdles in the classroom: absurdly large classes, almost zero resources for both teachers and students, and depressingly meager pay.  However, what concerns me more is the lack of pride many of the teaches feel in their profession, or country.  I remember a presentation that one of my teacher trainee students Amouzou gave on critical thinking: 

“Okay class, as we are talking about using critical thinking today, I have one last question before we finish... Look at this sentence.  After analyzing it, what tense do you think it is in?"  The class pondered the phrase "One day, Togo will become a stable and developed country" that Amouzou had scrawled on the chalk board.  "The future tense?" asked Akpandja . "No!" Shouted Amouzou  "The conditional?" suggested Dagadou, "No again!” Amouzou responded.  “Ready for the answer? The IMPOSSIBLE future!"

Although clever, Amouzou’s joke underscores the rather pessimistic outlook I have observed many Togolese sharing about their country’s future... a perspective which trickles down to their outlook for their own profession as teachers.  During one group discussion, I gave my students the prompt “what are advantages you have from learning to be a teacher in Togo?”, and the first idea someone suggested was “well, as teachers we know how to fast well, as we don’t get enough money to eat.” (On a humorous side-note, another student added, “also when we get sent to villages to teach, many mothers will offer their daughters to us for marriage!”). 

To be fair, for all the conditions described above Togolese have a lot of reason to be frustrated with the movement of their country, and the outlook of their careers as teachers.  Also the international donor community doesn't help when they basically give the message: you lack money, your methods are outdated, etc. etc.  Things need to change.  And its true that there is a lot of need in the education sector here.  However what kills me is that there many are good things happening in classrooms here that I see all the time, especially with home-grown solutions to their work challenges, which simply seem to be glossed over.  When the message from outside, "developed world"  constantly is: "Here, use our more 'modern' methods for your classroom that are so much better", of course Togolese are not going to reflect on the validity of the solutions they have created themselves.  I imagine, with some guilt, that this is also why I'm afforded so much respect here as a "teaching specialist". I come from a donor country that is perceived as "knowing more".  

But let’s think about learning in African classrooms for a minute.  One of my expat friends pointed out to me once that “you know, the funny thing is, despite all the supposed problems, the students still seem to learn English.”  I thought about this, and it’s true!  I can’t speak to other subjects, but as far as English goes, not only do students here learn English, they learn in relatively well!  And even using all those “outdated methodologies” that supposedly inhibit their learning.  Thinking about it further, I realize that I am essentially here to “combat” those old methodologies by promoting the modern, evolved theories about teaching and language learning that I learned in the US.  But let’s be completely honest with ourselves:  How strong are Americans really in foreign languages?  Another irony is training teachers to teach large class sizes and with little resources.  I devoted two years of grad school to researching proper pedagogy for these situations, but I've learned more in 8 months from observing teachers here on managing large classes and low resources then during all of grad school.  Ironically most of the research I read at grad school on large classes/low resources came from Western scholars who had relatively very little exposure to large classes compared to the educators I work with here.  So one has to ask: where is all the research from developing nations that actually experience this reality?

Before I begin to sound too much like I’m trashing American education, let me just clarify that I think the United States has a great education system that I’m proud to be a product of.  In fact, I truly believe that one of the biggest strengths in US education is our ability to develop critical thinking and leaderships skills, something I see lacking in education systems even in parts of Europe and other industrialized countries.  I think my main point is this:  Different countries have different obstacles, and thus have experience learning to deal with those obstacles.  So instead of assuming that just because Africa is poor and their methodology is a bit outdated that clearly what goes on in the classroom is insufficient, lets also focus on what they have learned to do well because they deal with certain challenges every day, and what we can learn from their experiences, such as how to create animated classes when you have over 100 students and little resources.  I guess I’m trying to say that rich countries may often have the resources, but they don’t always have all the answers.

After leaving the village, I bushwhack through banana trees to the top of another hill (apparently the trail they sent me on did not really exist), and find myself in a clearing at the top of the mountain with a magnificent view of the entire valley.   After accidentally surprising a farmer at the top (“How did you end up here!?”), I am given 5 ears of corn as a gift, and sent on my way down a path that winds beautifully over the hills.  At one point a group of kids run along for about 15 minutes with me (to be fair I invited them).  eventually I arrive back at the convent just as the blood-red sunset begins to give way to a creeping blue dusk, and am greeted by the lovely sound of African Catholic hymns being sung from the nearby Cathedral.  I take a deep, refreshingly cool breath, and head inside.  And so goes another day in Atakpame.

-Phil

Togo Tales: Sightseeing in Senegal, awkward public transport, and Phil Colins!

“I know it costs more, but the reason this taxi’s more expensive is because it’s BIGGER and NICER than the other ones!  Trust me!” reasons Mouktar, the Senegalese taxi driver.  He then climbs into the driver’s seat and slams his door shut, which is followed by the passenger seat’s window shattering all over the poor gentleman sitting there.  Oh local transport….. sigh.  More on that later.

Merry spring time everyone!  I’d love to say I’m also enjoying the first birds of spring, the first peaks of sunshine, the blooming of flowers (and for those of you in Seattle and DC, the blessed cherry blossoms), but let’s be honest, every day of my life here the weather is like I’m in the movie “Groundhog’s Day”, except that I’m greeted with weather that feels like the middle of a sticky humid Midwestern summer.   That being said, life is still good, and these past couple months have even seen some interesting travels!

SENEGAL SUBLIME

Senegal has been a country I've always wanted to visit.  In fact, ever since I became infatuated with Africa, I’m pretty sure my first goal was to see Senegal.  Why?  I’m not really sure… maybe it was when I saw them playing in a World Cup oh-so-many years ago… or maybe it was when I discovered it was a French-speaking country. Whatever the case, Senegal had been stuck in my mind as a travel destination for a while, and as you can imagine, I was giddy with excitement when I learned I would be spending the Midyear conference for the ELF program there.

So to describe it… wow, what a country!  Even though it’s still in the West African region, Senegal feels worlds apart culturally from Togo.  It has an eclectic blend of both Sub-Saharan African culture and North African/Arab culture than makes it very pleasing to the eyes, ears, and tastes (and which reminded me a bit of Djibouti, surprisingly).  Trendy young Senegalese roam the streets past colorfully robed men in lovely Aladdin slippers sipping delicious sweet green tea in cafes.  Various smells of pastries, incense, and at times mouthwatering dishes of fish float out of shops, all back-dropped by the enchanting call to prayer... it really is a special place.

DAKAR AND BEYOND!

My first five days were spent in Dakar where I attended the mid-year ELF conference, which was wonderful y therapeutic. While there are ELF Fellows all over the world, I think those of us in Africa face a unique set of challenges, so being able to reunite for a few days to vent our frustrations, share our successes in trying circumstances, and just have fun was a great experience.  Teachers really are a great set of people!  Dakar is a fabulous city.  In the centre ville part of town, known as ‘Plateaux’, it almost feels like a European city, both in the design, feel, look, and smell.  It’s actually relatively modern, but has a sprinkling of old colonial buildings thrown about that are enough to remind you of the historical significance of the country.

As far as outside of Dakar, I journeyed to several interesting locations.  I took a 20 minute boat ride to the small Island of Gorée.  While peaceful and full of old colorful homes, the Zen experience vanishes once the realization sets in that most of these lovely looking abodes were actually “slaves houses” that  held slaves in rather cruel conditions.  Apparently the island was a major transit point for shipping slaves out to the rest of the world .  I have to admit, it’s a little weird to be out here and see where slaves were actually shipped out.  I’ve also visited a slave house in Togo, as well as a beach where slaves where loaded onto boats to sail to the Americas.  As an American who was taught about slavery, the civil war, and the civil rights movement, it’s a bit creepy to see where all of this started on THIS end.  To see the shores and homes and realize this was where the capturing and imprisoning actually took place… it kind of gives me goosebumps.

…Anyways, on a less somber note: apparently the island also houses Dakar’s hippie community because my hired island guide was baked out of his mind the whole time.  At every important stop he’d leave and return more high, to the point where he starting repeating what he had already said, forgetting things in general, and eventually could barely even form words.  After about 40 minutes of that I said “adieu”.  Thanks anyways Moustapha!  Later I journeyed with another friend up to the northern, more Sahel-esque part of Senegal where, nestled among the Baobab “forests” is the lovely town of St. Louis.  St. Louis is a true monument to the colonial history of Africa.  It was the original capitol of French West Africa (when most of this region belonged to France), which is easy to imagine as it’s an entire city full of colonial buildings.  We took a boat trip near the Mauritanian border to a bird sanctuary (the Djoudj Bird Park), where we saw what felt like 1,000 birds!  I’m not even a “birder” but I still thought it was cool! On the way back to Dakar I decided on a whim to stay the night in the Lampoul Deserts… a small but majestic desert, where I spent the night in a Mauritanian tent nestled among the stars and rolling sand dunes.  Humorously, after getting hauled out to the camp on the back of a truck, I was informed by the camp manager, ‘Pape Fall’: “It looks like it’s just you and I out here tonight”.  As you can’t really avoid someone when you’re stuck in a desert together, Pape and I spent the rest of the time embarking on quite the desert bro-mance: we walked the sand dunes together, drank afternoon tea together, cooked together, and even watched the sunset together.   He was actually a pretty cool dude, and I guess if I had to literally be stuck in a desert with one other person, Pape Fall was not a bad guy to have around.

So what else is going on with me?  I’ll just give you a few snapshots of some the random things that happened here.

LOCAL TRANSPORT CRAZIES:

Let me just say this: People here suck at driving.  Car accidents are one of the biggest causes of death out here.  Why “Drivers’ Ed” is not included under any international NGO’s development initiative is beyond me.  Driving up to a town one weekend, I even saw an entire semi-truck completely flip off the side of the road (a rather startling affair).  Most local buses have seats for 7, but will crowd in 15 anyways.  This can lead to some, err, compromising seating arrangements actually, because one time I had to sit in between the driver and passenger and straddle the shifter.  This required the driver to reach rather awkwardly between my legs every time he wanted to shift.  In Senegal, once the bush taxi filled up completely (meaning 9 people for 5 seats), the taxi still stopped to pick people up, who would just nonchalantly hop onto the car rooftop and sit, feet dangling down the side, as if that was a perfectly appropriate way to travel.  I don’t get it.

GYM RATS

I’ve joined a local gym here… something I do everywhere I move to.  It’s rather entertaining to observe the different gym cultures around the world.  In France and Africa, you are expected to greet and shake everyone’s hand in the gym once you enter, and repeat the ceremony once you leave.  Also in France you can get away with spandex, cutoff denim shorts, and pink tank tops.  In Togo, the latest trend has been to play a Marvin Gaye CD containing 10 different versions of “Sexual Healing” as our workout soundtrack. Don’t get me wrong, I love the song (as does every bar in Togo), but listening to the instrumental version, cheap cover version, and acoustic version just doesn't put me in the iron-pumping mood.  Last week was Celine Dion, so at least we are starting to mix things up.

MUSIC

This actually brings me to another funny point about music here.  Of course most music is West African, which is pretty fun and great to dance to.  And as probably expected you get a fair dose of American and French rap too.  But there are some random bands that have cemented themselves in Togolese playlists that everyone here absolutely adores… like Phil Colins.  Togolese can’t get enough of him.  I hear him every time I go out, and live bands regularly do reggae remixes to all his songs. I love Phil Collins, but never in a million years would I have thought he would go over well in Africa.

WORK

The current cool project I’m working on creating is a teacher observation CD.  We have been facilitating workshops all the time on such “cutting edge” skills as critical thinking, communicative language teaching and group work. However the teachers always nod their heads and then say “This is great, but we can’t do these in our classes because they are too crowded/not enough resources/etc.”  However I observe Togolese teachers all the time who DO use these skills in their classes, and do them really well!  I would always think, “of only they could observe THIS teacher, then they would know it’s possible”, until it hit me: if I can’t bring the teachers to the observation, I’ll bring the observation to the teachers!  So now I’ve been running around Lomé and other cities filming good teachers demonstrating these technique in their classes, which I’ll put on a CD, mass produce, and then distribute to teachers at my trainings so they will all have access to 8-10 teacher observations demonstrating how these techniques can be done in “their reality”.  It’s cheap, it's easy… here’s hoping it’s a success!

Okay that will be all for now.  The next few months look to be quite fun, and might see me doing some travel outside of Togo for work, so I’ll be sure to update you on all of that.  In the meantime however, I hope you are all well and happy, and please send me updates on how you are all doing.  It’s always great to hear from friends far away.  Take care, et a la prochaine!

Phil

Togo Tales: Hiking, Teaching, Training, Adventuring, and all other "ings" of life in the moment!

I’ve decide that Africa, or at least West Africa, is the type of place that is best appreciated in the moment.  Live in the past, and you either long for what once was or remorse over the misfortunes that have befallen.  Live in the future, and you will almost undoubtedly be let down.  But live in the moment… the noisy, colorful, chaotic, nonsensical moment…. and life is beautiful, entertaining, and ultimately captivating.

And thus life continues to go by as I practice the art of living purely and patiently in the moment (which for those of you who know me, know that’s not easy).  Sometimes life is rough and bouncy like the tumbly ride of a bush taxi, and sometimes it whizzes by in an irresponsibly fast blur on the back of a motorcycle taxi, and sometimes its serene and lethargic as one sits for hours at a sandy maquis bar watching the world go by (one of Lonely Planet Togo’s favorite fallback descriptions of what you can do here).  But ultimately it’s a special experience that I am thankful for, especially when I remember to enjoy the moment that is.

Things have been going well since my last update, and incredibly busy.  Work has been stimulating, as I’ve literally traveled all over the country doing workshops, from the sticky swamps of the south to the dry deserts of the north.  In the north I got to explore some ancient caves dwellings in the mountains where villagers would hide from invading tribes.  I’ve been able to present and train on all sorts topics from incorporating critical thinking into the classroom, to gender equality, to monitoring and evaluating of education programs.  I also just wrapped up a big training-of-trainers program where I directed a week-long seminar for the inspectors (you may remember them from a previous e-mail as the slightly difficult region teacher trainers/supervisors).  After being frustrated by their techniques my training team and I decided to hold our own training for them on concepts such as best practices in supervision, observation, feedback, new classroom techniques, inclusive education, and all other sorts of concepts.  I am personally very proud of it as it was the most intellectually challenging task I’ve taken on, because it can be quite difficult to train people who already think they know everything.  You have to be very calculative in your workshops and provide the opportunities for them to discover the points you want them to discover on their own, otherwise they won’t buy into it.  But the workshop finished a success and I couldn't be happier!  I also got the US Ambassador and the Director of Secondary Education at the Ministry of Education to come speak so that was pretty cool too.

As for other adventures and stories, I’ll outline them below:

CIVIL UNREST

A bit of the ole’ African civil unrest has hit Togo.  Opposition groups are protesting the upcoming (and continually postponed) legislative elections.  At one point there were coordinated market burnings in 4 major Togolese cities, Lomé included.  This continues to baffle me because whoever did them, the opposition or the President’s party, only stands to lose public opinion from it.  No mobs or gun shots yet though J

TOGOLESE TEMPERAMANT

I am continually amazed by the Togolese and their approach to life.  I have found that they, like many Africans I have known, go through their lives carrying a mystifying “fatalism” about them.  I see it in the way that they nonchalantly cross the street amid crazy traffic (one time I waited about 15 minutes to cross a busy street before one guy just walked through without taking a second look, then gave me a “what’s the problem with you?” smirk).  And I also see it in how they hold themselves together and push on in the face of hardship.  They say that Togolese social activities are centered on going to weddings and funerals, and it really does ring true that there always seems to be a marriage or death in the lives of my Togolese friends.  However whenever someone dies here, they don’t complain, and they don’t just give up in despair.  They definitely morn, but they seem to carry a “stoic”-ness to the situation that’s remarkable.  I’ve had teachers come to my trainings saying things like: “sorry I’m late, my cousin/niece/nephew/uncle died today and I had to go to the funeral”.  And that was that.  The matter was settled.  I’d always apologize and give sympathies, but they’d just simply respond: “Well its life you know… this just happens”.  And it’s true here… people do just die.  A lot.  It’s hard to live long lives in Africa, for many reasons, and most Africans have just accepted the fact that life is temporal and many friends and family will pass away.  But their ability to just pack it up and continue on like nothing happened continues to amaze me.  Not because they don’t feel anything, but because I know they really do…yet continue to just make do.  It’s a fortitude I wish I had.  Consequently, this does make some of my Togolese friends rather lame people to come express my problems to, because whenever I’d try and talk to them about difficult things I am going through, they seem to have a hard time knowing what to say… probably because in their culture people don’t really complain, they just carry on.  And also my problems always just seem to pale in comparison to any struggles that happen in their lives.

ADVENTURES (Hiking, Canoeing, Ghana)

I went on a spontaneous weekend hiking trip to Ghana with my friend Dave from the Embassy.  We scaled the tallest mountain in Ghana, Mt. Afadjato, as well as an even more strenuous hike up the mountains to the Wli waterfalls.  Both were exhausting.  Both were rigorous.  Both were awesome and amazingly beautiful.  The one funny point was on Mt. Afadjato, which had a class of about 50 high school Ghanaians on a field trip hiking it at the same time we were.  Our most emasculating moment came when all the young high school girls, after seeing the two white guys huffing and puffing and sweating up the hill, kept offering to hold our hands and help us up to the top.

I’ve been doing a lot of other hiking in the mountains of Togo, specifically around a beautiful little town called Kpalimé.  On one mountain we hiked through various small remote villages that you could only reach by the trails we were on (where again we outpaced by an old lady balancing logs and a bundle of machetes on her head).  On another mountain we came across what seemed like 100,000 bats flying around everywhere, by day no less.  Our guide told us that they were actually revered spirits in Voodoo religion, because in the past they protected women and children from invading Ashanti tribes from Ghana.  They would hide in the caves and the bats, which were flying around, would prevent the Ashanti from entering.  Thus the local villagers often make sacrifices to them.

I also went on a really awesome canoe trip down a random river outside of Lomé.  Over a night of a couple beers, which is perhaps the best way to hatch an adventure, myself, Dave from the Embassy, and Anton (a South African friend of ours) decided it would be brilliant to find a random river, throw down a canoe, and paddle to the ocean.  So we did.  We found a canoe, drove out to a river, put in, took off, and 100 yards later hit a swamp.  Disappointed but not defeated we returned, got someone to drive us until the next tiny village (our driver was waiting for us by the ocean and not answering his phone, conveniently), where we asked a bunch of stunned kids if there “happened to be any water by their village?”  After pointing us on we ran through the mud-hut town, probably startling every villager who up until that point had not seen a white guy in months (I’m trying to imagine how odd it must have looked for some bored shop keeper to suddenly see 3 white dudes with a canoe just come charging past them), jumped into the nearby lake and took off (with a large group of curious children looking on from the shores).  The paddling was tiresome as we were into the wind the whole way, until we realized that the entire lake and most of the river was only shin-deep.  This realization came after a curious villager walked out to us from the shore, walked along side of us for a bit to chat, and then wandered off… prompting us to notice that he was walking much faster than we were paddling.  We may or may not have then spent considerably parts of our journey just walking in the river pulling our canoe.  But in the end we sailed past multiple remote villages and ultimately made it to the ocean!

ENTERTAINING ASPECTS OF TOGOLESE CULTURE

-My Favorite conversation in Togo: My Togolese neighbor, a little 3-year old girl, was chatting with me and asking a million and one random and bizarre questions, as adorable 3-year olds do, as I was sitting outside my home. Then suddenly a moment of realization spread crossed her face and she stopped suddenly, looked at me quizzically, and asked (in french): "Hey, how come you're White like that?" as if she just then realized that I was, in fact, not Black.

-Togolese phone culture is awkward… and kind of silly.  People will often call me when they are in the middle of some busy market or crowded street, and after a few minutes of us exchanging “Whats!?” and “Huh?” and “Can you hear me!?”, they would just say, “Sorry, I really can’t hear you right now, I’m going to call you later” as if it never occurred to them that calling me from the middle of the market or roadside would be a bad idea!  Then sometimes they call for no apparent reason.  My favorite exchange was when my one friend Charles called and the conversation literally went like this: “Hey Phil”  “Hey Charles, how are thing?”  “Good man, good…. Hey, so listen I’m going to call you back in a little bit okay?”  “Umm… ok?”

-Signage here is funny.  Basically everything has super religious labels.  Translating from French, some of my favorites have been “God Given Salon”, “Blessings of the Lord Our Savior Café” “Peace be Upon You Dry Cleaning”, or “He Will Return Supermarket”.

Anyways my novel is complete.  I hope you are well wherever you are, and until the next time I wish you all “bonne santé”, “bonne courage”, and as the Togolese like to say, “On est ensemble!”

Phil

Togo Tales: You know its an Ivorian New Year's when the Grandma is the first to grab you for a dance!

"MOVE MOVE MOVE!!  WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!!"

Our truck bounces to and fro as we race down the dirt road like a bat out of hell.  Sitting in the bed of the truck, I grip the side like a vice to prevent myself from being launched out.  Looking behind us, hundreds of bodies are hurtling towards us, screaming, yelling, and shaking their fists in the air.  Toto stands next to me, sweat streaming down his face while he slaps the roof of the truck, yelling "FASTER FASTER!  DON'T SLOW DOWN!   They're GAINING!!"  I turn around to observe our pursuers, and think to myself how this really is much more bizarre dressed up in a Santa suit....

So an angry mob chasing us you ask?  A coup d'etat?  Terrorists?  While all are certainly frequent occurrences in this part of the world, you may be surprised to find out that I was merely caught up in the melee of delivering presents as Santa, and the onslaught of overly excited children that followed.  More on that later.....

For now, let me say: Joyeux Noel, Joyeux Année, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!
Once again I’m back with more to say!  I hope the holidays treated you all well, and you were able to be surrounded by family and loved ones.  While the holidays can sometimes be a hard time when abroad, and rather nostalgic-ridden, I was fortunate enough to have some wonderful experiences with wonderful people, which definitely got me through.  So here are a few anecdotes from the festive times in Togo.

CHRISTMAS IN TOGO
I was asked by a lot of people: “what do Togolese do for Christmas?”  Well it appears that they do the same thing that they do pretty much any time there’s a holiday, birthday, funeral, church service, family reunion, social get-together, or anything at all: get a bunch of friends and family together at someone’s home to eat and drink.  Togolese seem relatively low on variety.  What is funny though is that even if the day of the holiday itself is rather calm, the three week period surrounding Christmas and New Year’s (who are we kidding, more like whole month of December) is apparently referred to as “the holiday period”, which means everyone will go out more at night, buy more things in marches, and spend more time in bars.  So in essence, they celebrate “the time” of the holidays, instead of perhaps the actual “holidays”

TRAVELS TO THE COAST OF IVORY!
One of the more fantastic parts of the past month was a week trip I took to Cote D’Ivoire (Ivory Coast).  My supervisor, Brenda (the Embassy Public Affairs Officer) is married to an Ivorian named Serge, so they invited me to drive with them across the Ghanaian coast all the way to Abidjan in Cote D’Ivoire.  Let me describe Serge for a moment.  He drives a big SUV with giant decals on either side of a massive dragon fighting some barbarian (apparently called “the God of War”).  He himself looks like a huge, corn row-coiffed body builder, and often wears big blingy silver necklaces laden with his name, accompanied by silver rings on all his fingers and multiple silver bracelets also laden with his name.  He’s a character.

So a little background on Cote D'Ivoire: Cote D’Ivoire used to be what Ghana is now: the richest and most developed and stable country of the region.  However somewhere along the way it succumbed to all the usual stories of civil wars and coups that plague most African countries.  The funny thing about it is that it still bears the remnants of its former glory.  For one its biggest city, Abidjan, is a complete powerhouse, and bigger and badder in every way than Lome.  Bigger buildings (skyscrapers even), more paved roads, more modern shopping malls, endless restaurants, bars, and nightclubs, and a legitimate middle class.  It actually reminded me a lot of Seattle because the city is built along a bunch of different lakes, lagoons, and hills, has many bridges, its skyscrapers are just off the water, it has terrible traffic, and even has its own Capitol Hill with the working class but rather edgy and young neighborhood where everyone goes out at, Yopougon.  So I spent most of the time exploring the city, often with Serge’s cousin Constantine.

I then took a side trip to the official capital (and decidedly odd city) Yamoussoukro, with two friends from Seattle (Becky and Carl) that were also in town for a Fulbright and travel.  This place was bizarre.  It was the village of one of the former presidents, who decided to build a giant basilica there, the Basilica of Our Lady of Peace of Yamoussoukro.  Guinness Book of World Records lists it as the biggest church in the world.  Yes, bigger than St. Peters in Rome.  Apparently the Vatican asked that it not be, so the dome is smaller, yet they put a big cross on top making it bigger.  It’s huge, each seat individually air-conditioned, admittedly beautiful, and awkwardly out of place in a city of only about 200,000.  Apparently whenever President Boigny was asked the price, his response was always “faith has no price” (and so no one actually knows). He was also asked by the pope to build a hospital before he would bless it.  So while the Basilica was finished in 3 years (and was blessed), I noticed that the hospital was still under construction (over 20 years later)....sigh.  On top of this he  also built six-lane roads (lined with street lights) throughout the city that no one drives on, two huge 5 star hotels that no one stays at, and a giant building for his “Foundation” which apparently sits empty.  At least he dreamed big.

My New Years in Cote D'Ivoire was also very memorable.  We went to the town of Serge’s family, an hour outside of Abidjan.  All 50-ish of his family members gathered in a big courtyard, and at about 3:00 pm they opened coolers full of beer, brought out food, turned on the music, and started dancing.  This lasted literally nonstop from that time on New Year’s Eve until about 4:00 pm New Year’s day.  People took naps in their seat, then woke up and continued dancing.  I’m not ashamed to admit my first dance with an Ivorian was when the family grandma grabbed me (surprisingly forcibly) by the arm and dragged me to the dance floor.  I’m also not ashamed to admit that I was impressed by her moves too!  The other funny part about the experience was how all throughout the night, people would party with the family, then leave in groups of cousins or uncles and go join mini-parties at other parts of the town for a while, come back to the main family party again, only to leave again other parties elsewhere.  It was like the whole town was one big fiesta.

SANTA CAME TO TOWN
Now to return to the narrative at the beginning of this e-mail.  So a few days before Christmas my friend and Togolese colleague Toto (Toto from Togo... it's just too good) approached me with a simple request: “Hey Phil, would you like deliver some presents as Santa to a few schools?”  It sounded like fun, so I obliged.  When I arrived at the school that was putting on this event, I discovered that not only was I going to dress as Santa, but I was going to do it mounted on a pile of gifts on the back of a WELL-decorate truck (my “sleigh”), assisted in throwing gifts by other teachers in the truck (perhaps my “elves”), flanked by men on horseback (ostensibly my “reindeer”), further flanked by men on stilts and drummers driving around on scooters (not sure about the link here) and finally surrounded by a police escort (yeah here neither).  It was a veritable parade!  We drove/trotted/walked all around Lomé, throwing gifts to everyone we saw.  Ideally it was for kids, but the adults were pretty competitive too.  I saw one woman do a complete tuck-n-roll to grab a stuffed animal.  The whole time we’re shouting and waving and playing music and having a jolly good time.

The first school we went to was chaos.  Maybe this was the first time Santa had ever visited, because these kids were freaking out to the point where they started storming the truck for gifts, causing the parade organizers to panic and pull us out.  Obviously the one way to get already overly hyper kids to freak out more is to start running away from them, so seeing Santa flee prompted the kids to chase us down.  So the for the next 15 minutes the scene was of a truck loaded with Santa racing down a small dirt road, with about 300-ish kids sprinting after us as if participating in a revolutionary mob.  It was fantastic.  The other schools went fine.  I got to get out, sit down, and hand gifts out to kids.  We were even able to give gifts to an orphanage too.  The irony was that it was not even the second day when I was asked again to play Santa at an Embassy/expatriate party.  This time I had to ride in on a bike and give ice cream to everyone (don’t ask), then sit in front of the X-mas tree, lead kids in song, and have each of them sit on my lap and tell me what they wanted for X-mas.  I’m proud to say I only had a 25% frequency rate of kids crying on my lap.  Apparently I could start moonlighting with this gig.

So that’s been my holidays!  I’ll end this abruptly because I wrote yet again a novel, but I hope you are all doing well and enjoying the beginnings of 2013.  Know that I miss you all a lot, and you have an open door in Togo whenever you decide to come!

Best Wishes,

Phil

“When death finds you, may it find you alive” - Makidoma Some

Togo Tales: Training, Travels, & Travails - Life on the job in Togo

Bonjour à tous!

I hope this message finds you all in good spirits, and enjoying the holiday season.  You’ll have to enjoy it for me, as I’m finding that life in a tropical climate with marginal fluctuation in seasonal weather (the “hot” seasons, then the “more hot” seasons”) does little to reign in the Christmas spirit… though I have taken to listening to my Manheim Steamroller Christmas album.
For this update I decided to address more of the “what”, as in the “what-the-heck I’m actually doing here for my work”.  Evidently I hadn't clarified this enough for people on my e-mail list, so by popular demand…voila!  This is just as well, because since my last update my life has been mostly filled with work projects that have allowed me to experience the sticky and swampy lagoons of southern Togo to the arid mountains of the north.

TEACHER TRAINING
So to describe what I do…  The short end of it is that in Togo I’m not really doing as much teaching of English, but rather teacher training of Togolese English teachers in secondary schools.  The long end is that in reality I’m doing a million different projects all surrounding that theme.  Like I mentioned, I’m based in the national teacher training office, called the “Direction des Formations”, which is a branch of the Ministry of Education.  I’m on a team of 4 Togolese English teacher trainers, and together we put on weekly workshops for the local English teachers.  We focus on training the teachers in more current pedagogic strategies, such as interactive, student-centered learning, critical thinking, large class management, pair/group work, as well as many other tools to make the classroom a more dynamic place then the rote-learning, authoritarian experience they currently are.  It's a real flashbacks to more archaic, Catholic boarding school-style teaching methods.  In some classes, of which I have yet to observe but have heard about from Peace Corps volunteers, teachers respond to wrong answers and misbehavior with smacking/beating with sticks, or made to stand on their knees outside.  As you can see, there's work to be done.  Few Togolese teachers are able to get any (and I mean ANY) training in teaching.  Most of the English teachers may have studied English at university, and were subsequently thrown into the fire.  With little pedagogic knowledge, and a WIDE disparity in English skills, teachers here are super appreciative of any kind of training available.  Also they have so little to work with.  Some teachers are lucky to have classrooms, but many are in bamboo hut-like contraptions built on the school grounds.  Powerpoint/overhead projects?  Forget about it.  Photocopies for students?  Not a chance.  Class sizes?  80-120ish. Just the fact that this is the reality of everyday work for these teachers makes them all heroes in my mind.

BUREAUCRATIC BURDENS
This has also come with its frustrations, because in doing so I’ve been given the crash course of West African bureaucracy.  Somewhere down the line, some guy with an inferiority complex (I blame the former French colonial officers) decided it would be a brilliant idea to install an ultra-hierarchical system for logistics where you couldn't ever talk to someone without first meeting and talking to all the people of lower ranks.  Even more, this same insecure, possibly French colonial officer also thought that the best way to do any kind of logistical planning was to mandate that before you do or plan or talk to anyone/thing you had to send a letter ahead of time.  But of course not to the direct person, you send it directly to the head guy, and that trickles down to the person you actually want to talk to.  Confused yet?  Let me give you an example.  To do our trainings in Lomé, we had to first send a letter to the minister of education, with hopes that he would then forward that letter to all the inspectors (kind of like the superintendents here), who would then forward that letter to all the school headmasters (principals), who would then notify teachers there was a training.  Of course that has as much chance of succeeding as sea lion in the middle of an Orca pod (Alaskan reference… means “unlikely”), so at the same time you do that you have to talk to the teachers, who talk to their headmasters.  Then you also send another letter to the inspectors, who again talk to the headmasters.  After all of that, you eventually end up with about a 50% turnout rate to a workshop in one of Lomé’s districts (which still equals about 50 teachers, so great!).

My favorite part is the ritual of every time you go to a school, or district, you have to visit the headmaster of whoever is the highest ranking person of the area, and then request a meeting.  He will usually make you wait about 10-15 minutes later then your scheduled meeting because I don’t know, it gives him some kind of power trip.  Then you go in, and ever-so-graciously thank him for meeting you and humbly make your request to give his teachers a free training (insert irony here). He of course is not looking at you during this process, but instead is furrowing his brow as if he is actually in serious contemplation about the benefits of “granting” you permission to do your work.  Of course he’s always planning on saying yes because no one in their right mind here would turn down free assistance, but why say that right away when he can pull a power trip on you and make you think that HE just granted YOU a favor?  Anyways it’s been a real trial in patience.

TRAVELS AFAR
Other than that, I’ve also been lucky enough to travel around the country a bit with the US embassy, doing the same kind of pedagogical trainings in different regions.  If Lomé’s teachers don’t receive much training, the outer regions are in even worse shape.  The other funny thing is hearing the inspectors (aka superintendent-like people) who were trained in what seems like the 1800s, impart their sage advice on teachers.  Certain gems like, “you should not vary your teaching methods; we do ‘systematic teaching’ here, which means that you need to do the exact same thing in class every day”.  Or the other logic of “we are francophones, and because of this we shouldn't give examples for language rules in class; once you hear a definition you should just remember it”.  My personal favorite was  when one of the inspectors was giving feedback to a teacher he just observed, he started with “well there’s no reason to tell you what you did good, because what you did good is already good, so I’m just going to tell you what you did bad.”

On the other extreme, I’ve also observed many teachers who are practically magicians in the classroom.  They seem to effortlessly guide 120 twelve-year-olds through dynamic activities that are both fun and also leave them with stronger English skills (and for all of you who have ever been a middle-schooler, you know that’s no easy task).  In particular, the Togolese on my teacher training team are real superstars, and I feel so lucky because every day I learn new things from them.  So it’s a place of extremes, but that is Africa in a nutshell.  Other small projects: I’ve been doing some work with Peace Corps, most recently a couple weeks ago when I did a few trainings on large class management, and promoting gender equality through teaching.  I also am doing a huge country-wide evaluation of a teacher training program funded by the US embassy, which has been a big reason I’ve been able to observe teachers all over the country.  Finally I also serve as an advisor for the Togolese English Teachers Association.  I help with the planning of their meetings, where sometimes I conduct mini-workshops on teaching.  Oh and I do the same kind of thing for a University English Club/Leadership club.

All in all pretty cool stuff.  Actually more than cool, this is probably one of the best jobs I’ve ever had.  Sometimes I need to pinch myself, because I’m getting to do the exact kind of stuff I’ve always wanted to do: travel around a country in African working on educational development projects.  It allows me the opportunity to see education in Togo from many different angles, and to interact with all the players of the game, from students to teachers to administrators to government folks.  So really I’m ecstatic.

OTHER FUN STUFF: Went on a day fishing trip with the Ambassador and Embassy security officers, where I "may or may not" have gotten sick all over the side of the boat...  however completely unbeknownst to the rest of my party as, in my determination to not toss cookies in front of the ambassador (and thus appear feeble), I chose an opportune moment to do so while they were distracted by a bird... Mission accomplished!  Also went out dancing on the town, only to have the nightclub DJ fall asleep in the middle of the night, and need to be woken up by a patron to put on another song.  Also experienced a fireworks show of a lightening storm in a small mountains town of Atakpame.  Here's my sappy post I put on facebook: "Totally had a 'moment' the other day: sitting in a palm-covered rooftop bar lost in some small mountain town in Africa, soccer playing on the tv, red and orange sunset bleeding across the sky, the dark curtain of nighttime falling, thundering rainstorm and lightning flashing all around me for hours, illuminating the entire valley... One of those moments where the fast-forward button on life momentarily stops and you find yourself aware, if ever so briefly, of how completely alive you are in this moment in time."

But this message is already a book so I’ll wrap it up.  I hope all of you are doing well and getting ready for holiday festivities, and know that I’m thinking of all of you from my hot and humid, sometimes sticky apartment…

Much love,
Phil Dierking

PS check out my most recent facebook photo album of me on the job! http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10100367339899950.2415874.25902960&type=1&l=80c43c38cc