I’ve once again failed at sticking to my goal of monthly blog updates. When this happens, the task of “updating my blog” becomes more and more daunting, as the experiences I’d like to share become jumbled and excessive. So, instead of attempting a recap of the last few months, I’m just going to call those the “lost months” and start with this week.
Today is Thursday, April 29th. I have officially survived “hot season”. The rains have started in Mango, and the cool weather that accompanies the rain is absolutely divine. A few weeks ago, my site-mates measured the temperature around midday at 121.6 degrees in the sun, and about 105 degrees in the shade. A book written by a Togolese doctoral student about the Anoufo described Mango during the hot season as “hell without a cover”, and I wholeheartedly agree!
I spent today with my colleague Moustafa putting together a lesson on Child Trafficking for a “Community Educator’s Guide” we’re creating, which needs to be ready in time for a training we’ll be holding in 2 weeks. My counterparts at the NGO ABEF and I have received funding for a 4-day training of 10 community educators in Koumongou, a large village about 25 km southwest of Mango. Several months ago, a women’s association/collective in Koumongou came to ABEF to ask for help organizing awareness-raising campaigns in their community about the importance of sending children to school, the dangers of child trafficking, and the negative effects of forced marriage. During a needs assessment with the women’s group, we identified several other issues that they were interested in learning about, including family planning, HIV/AIDS and STIs, and gender equity. I think it’s great that the idea came from these women and that they took the initiative to come to an NGO and ask for training. As mothers, they are well placed to communicate effectively with both parents and children in the community. The sessions will be led by the nurse at Koumongou’s clinic and by Moustafa and Madame Nanakan, my counterparts at the NGO ABEF. I’ll be co-leading some of the sessions, but everything I say will have to be translated into Anoufo, as the majority of the women don’t understand French. After the training, the women will hold “sensibilisations” (“awareness-raising activities” seems to be the best translation) 3 days out of the month—1 day with students, 1 day with parents, and 1 day with apprentices. We’ll be going out to Koumongou once a month for 6 months to provide any needed support and to encourage the women to continue their activities. This project is full of new experiences for me, but thankfully Moustafa and Madame Nanakan have carried out similar projects throughout the past several years. These next 2 weeks are going to be incredibly busy, as there is still much to be done and organized before the training starts on May 14th.
As I write this, my 3-month-old puppy is laying on my feet. This is a very rare occurrence. The majority of his life is spent running around biting at everything he sees (toes, legs, sandals, bike pedals—you name it). I’ve named him Sawari, which means “patience” in Anoufo. The family I share a compound with has a dog as well, and he and Sawari have become great buds. I’ve managed to teach him “sit” and “down”, but every time he descends into the down position he does so with an air of teenage insolence, throwing a paw in the air as he reluctantly lowers himself to the ground. Speaking of dogs, a rabid dog came through my neighborhood today and attacked my next-door neighbor’s puppy. A group of men beat it to death with long pieces of wood, and then proceeded to discuss whether or not they could eat it before informing the owner. They concluded that he who kills a rabid dog has the right to eat it, and the crowd dispersed. Never a dull moment! J
This Tuesday, April 27th, was the 50th anniversary of Togo’s independence. Mango celebrated with a large parade down the national route. It took a bit of patience to make it through the first two hours, which consisted of thousands of students in identical khaki uniforms and the countless associations and unions in Mango performing a military march. The end of the parade—the “folkloric groups”—was well worth the wait. Traditional songs and dances from multiple regions in Togo were performed, the highlight of which was the “knife ceremony” of the Kotokoli ethnic group. Traditional healers, or “fetishmen”, prepare a magical solution that is allegedly capable of protecting the body from the knives that are used in the ceremony. The men rub the solution all over themselves before the ceremony starts. During the ceremony, the men take off their shirts and violently attempt to stab and cut themselves with knives and machetes, but the blade apparently doesn’t affect them. The men enter a trance before starting to “stab” themselves, and this trance can be passed to other men who are in the presence of the ceremony. During the parade, an older man was taken in by the trance and started taking off his clothes so that he could stab himself too, but he was stopped by those around him (see picture). Apparently, the “goal” of the ceremony is to show the spiritual power and skill of the traditional healers or “fetishmen” who prepared the protective solution. Every March, the Kotokoli have a large festival, the focus of which is the knife ceremonies. I’d really like to go next year, and I’ll admit that it’s partially because I want to see if there’s some “trick” to the ceremony. It’s very hard for me to believe that it’s really a magical liquid that’s protecting them. Are they just pretending to use a lot of force? Are the blades dull? My mind that is so enamored with rational explanations cannot accept “magic” as the answer. Several friends have promised me that there’s no trick to it. It’s “African magic”, they say. They’ve seen it with their own eyes, up close. They’ve felt the blades. I’ll just have to wait and find out for myself next March. The mélange of traditional beliefs with the predominant religions of Islam and Christianity is fascinating. The vast majority of Mango’s population identifies either as Muslim or Christian, and both religions officially prohibit the majority of traditional ceremonies, visits to the Marabout (traditional healers), etc, but people continue to practice their traditions discreetly. Unfortunately, that makes it hard to learn about traditional customs and beliefs, especially as a foreigner. Thankfully, I have a lot of time!
My plan for the next few months (summer vacation) includes taking a quick vacation to the coast of Benin with some friends from training, working at the recently inaugurated “Red Cross Youth Center” in Mango, which sort of resembles a Boys’ and Girls’ Club in the US, finishing up the micro-loan program with the high school girls, designing summer activities for a group of students who receive scholarships from an NGO called Bornefonden, and being a counselor at Camp Unité, an annual summer camp organized by Peace Corps that’s essentially a training of peer educators on various “life skills” topics. I’ll also continue to go on frequent runs and bike rides, practice yoga, take weekly guitar lessons, take French and Anoufo lessons, read for pleasure, and spend time with friends in Mango. All in all, life is good!
