Togo Taxi ridin

The "taxis" we take from Farendé/Kuwdé to Ketao to Kara are, how should I put it.... unique and somehow still alive. Many of these cars are the rejects of the states - small, stickshifts that were unable to pass the emissions tests in the US, so what do we do with them? Dump them in western Africa to destroy the ozone in a region already on the equator. So a quick run down of some of the taxi adventures I have had thus far

The white van to Ketao
This van is ridiculous - the windows are cracked and stitched back up, it is pretty much just a shell, you can see the ground through the floor by the front seats, you need to wear a helmet because when it hits a pot hole you could get a concussion, and it breaks down every 10 minutes and then a kid has to get out and push start it to get going again. One time, we had the misfortune of having to take this taxi again, and it broke down 2 minutes into the trip on a hill. A kid had to run the 2 km to Tchikawa, grab gas in a water bottle and run back. The driver then opened up the engine, took a huge gulp of gasoline IN HIS MOUTH and then spit it into a tube for the oil in the engine. GROSS! He didnt even gurgle some water - I wanted to throw up...

The Ghana flag car
So one Wednesday on our way from Ketao to Kara, Alex and I rode in a car with a Ghanian flag. We were just driving along when the driver pulls over. He grabs his papers and a 1000CFA bill, gets out of the car, and walks over to the policeman who apparently had pulled us over. He walks back to the car 2 minutes later and Alex asked what happened - it didnt seem like he had done anything illegal (not like there are rules on these roads anyways...). He said that he didnt do anything - the policeman just wanted some money so he pulled him over and took it. Alex asked him how he felt about being shook-down, isnt it unfair, etc. His response was C`est comme ça, That`s just how it is. Hmm a little eye opening.

Anyways, those are just some examples of what is typical of the taxis here.

This week, I am preparing Kabyé beer to sell at market. Its going to be hilarious, and everyone is ridiculously excited to try the nsara`s attempt at a boisson. I cannot believe I leave the north in 4 days, and Togo in a week.

Cultivating

Monday morning, I joined Tikenawe in one of her fields and planted bean seeds. She started around 6AM and I at 7AM. The field is in the mountains a minute away from the homestead. Because of the rocky and inclined terrain, the fields here are terraced and contoured around the natural obstacles. Sometimes when working in the fields, workers get bitten by agtenna (these horrible pinching ants), scorpions, and snakes. When I was out there, there were agtenna but I only had to deal with the flying insects (eg flies and kapupudu). Its a good thing too since I was only wearing flip flops - though the other 3 women, whom Tikenawe has to pay, were barefoot.

So - how to plant beans
The fields, as said earlier, are terraced but within each terrace plane, there are mounds and ditches. Bending at the waist, you shove the knife with your right hand next to a mound at a 45 degree angle. Holding up the thin layer of soil with the knife, you put in 2 seends with your left hand, then pat the soil down. Additionally, there is a pattern for how to plant the seeds - in each ditch between 2 mounds, one side gets 1 set of seeds while the other side gets 2 sets (2-1-2).

After an hour, I realiwed the sun had really come out and I was startign to burn so I went in to grab some water, my cookie monster hat, sunscreen, and camera. I returned "au champ" for about an hour, then Tikenawe and I left around 930AM while the other women continued. Although this seemed like one of the less strenuous tasks, you are bent over for hours with the sun beating down, then there are the hazards of the field and nature. To top it off, the wet season is like winter here - 80 degrees F - and the women were wearing sweaters. I cannot imagine what the dry season is like...

Initiation Dances

It is initiation time in the ritual heart of Kaybé culture in northern Togo. On Friday morning, Alex, Rui, Geff, Jesper, Gros and I woke up before sunrise to go to the Evalaa luttes, or wrestling matches, in Koumea. Although I could not really see the matches themselves, the atmosphere was really fun. Faure, the president of Togo, made an appearance, and the women of each village/quartier self-taxed to buy matching pagnes to show pride.

Farendé and Kuwdé do not have the luttes for Evalaa but there is a very symbolic ritual instead. There are also lots of dances in the market, each village with its own circle, celebrating the initiates. Saturday evening while I was watching the Kuwdé dance, Kouwenam pulled me into the circle where I learned how to dance the saissa (?). The dance is simple - tap twice with each foot, turn a bit each time, while swirling a silver plate, but the rhythm is really difficult. Everyone was so excited (or amused) by my dancing that people started sticking coins to my forehead - I made 90CFA!

interviews

This past week several important « events » have occurred. First, I had an interview zith the son of the past Chef de Village of Koukoudé. He had cultivated for 4 years in Nigeria before returning to Kuwdé two months ago with a moto. The interview was incredibly informative, but seemed rehearsed. His uncle, André, was there to translate, but as the aspiring Chef de Village he seemed to also be playing politics. The boy (24 years old) would simply parrot what André would say. For example, Me: For how many hours would you work each day – when to when? André: ooooohhh work hard ALL day! Boy: Work all day!. Once I broke down the answers into details (eg: 6H-12H, 13H-18H) did they become really helpful in understanding the basic mechanics of the work abroad.

Towards the end when I began asking questions about motivations for youth to leave and solutions, the answers seemed more about getting me to get money and aid – I began to feel like the interview was an act to push forth an agenda, to get something tangibly beneficial from my time here. Although I am sure the answers were honest, it did not seem like I was getting the full truth. The duo repeatedly remarked “We are so poor – that is why I left to get a motorcycle” then “when you leave you need to get people and NGOs to help us.” The first statement interested me – this kid might come from a poor family relative to the world, but not for this community. He had food to eat, shelter, his education paid for, and his father was the chief of the village. He did not leave because of abuse, neglect, starvation, orphan-status, or for school fees – he left (and he said it) because he saw some guy with a moto, wanted one, and knew that his parents would not buy one for him and his amusement.

This raises some questions I have been struggling with – What is poverty? And how has globalization impacted people’s perceptions of their own circumstances and of those around them? Kids might still leave during school vacations to make money in the South, but if transportation and exposure to the consumer-base mania of the US and Europe were not as present (with me there too?) or coveted, would youth leave to work in other countries for the momentary satisfaction of motorcycles and videotapes? Isolation is not the answer, so what, increased globalization and access to tastes of things that make the US idolized? At this pace, these objects might never make it into the hands of these people and youth.

"Bar" hopping

Every Saturday is market day in Farendé. I wake up late (around 8am if I can stay in bed that long) then eat some Quaker Oats with powdered milk, a little sugar, and hot water. After breakfast, I hike into town for a pre-marché meeting with Rui, Alex, and Jesper to discuss any cultural questions we might have (eg: sorcery, funerals, ceremonies). After, we head to the market. The market is incredibly lively and has many differnet sections and vendors - grain, pagnes, an infinite array of flip flops and Obama paraphenalia, bread, fruit, locust bean stuff for sauces (smells like dog poop), and fufu. Set back from this main area is the dog meat stand, which only men are allowed to eat, and the twenty or so beer ("sulum") stations.

Kabyé beer is not like the beer in the States - I would hesitate to even say it is beer... It is made from sorghum and tastes like slightly carbonated apple juice when it hasnt been fermented. Wehn fermented, it is less red, less sweet, and more alcoholic depending on how many times it has been filtered. The sulum is made by the Kabyé women, and each woman`s beer has its own style and taste. Market days (for men and Americans) are spent hopping from sulum hut to sulum hut socializing and drinking 50CFA (aournd 10 cents) calabashes of beer. Two drinks later, I am exhausted - I hike back up the mountain, take a bucket shower, and nap. I probably go to bed around 930pm - with no electricity and limited battery power, there is not much to do after sunset.

village life

My host this summer is a family of subsistence farmers. Kouwenam (the dad) and Tikenawe (the mom) have 7 kids - 2 are married and live elsewhere, and a middle child is living in nearby Pagoudah where she goes to school (she works for a family - domestic chores and tending their bar- and in exchange she gets to stay there and her school fees are paid for). The other four kids are Esocholo (19 and rebellious), Gros (~15 and the only boy among 6 other girls), Bienvenue (~10) and Eli (7, she is really timid and is only now starting to talk to me... or shes scared of me).

Its ironic living here - my project is on child trafficking yet I have so many kids doing free labor for me. Bien and Eli sweep my room at least once a day, Gros carries my backpack and boils water for my morning oatmeal, and Esocholo cooks dinner. Since they discovered I dont really like the traditional pate, I now eat spaghetti nearly every night, its a double edged sword I guess.

With 99% of the day`s work done for me, it is still really difficult to understand what life living in poverty, off the land, in a mud and tin compound on a mountain is really like. There are hints - men bent over working the fields, little kids with swollen bellies and inflated bellybuttons, and empty Coartem (malaria meds) packets on the ground - but it is mostly hidden by the friendly, generous, and vibrant personalities.

Although many people speak some French, I am still working on learning a little Kabyé. Right now I knoz the 4 time of day salutations (eg good day night etc) and a couple of other phrases and words.

Happy almost 4th of July!!

I spent last week in the capital city of Lome attempting to meet with NGOs working on the issue of child trafficking in Togo. I was able to meet with a person from UNICEF, but it was difficult to set up meetings with other NGOs. From this meeting I learned that with the help of UNICEF, the Togolese government has been able to reform many of its laws concerning childs rights and trafficking but the laws are not being realized on the ground. Hardly anyone I talked to in the "sending" village of Farende even knew there were laws criminalizing child trafficking. So, it seems that some stuff is being done on the bureaucratic level but almost nothing in the villages most affected. This, however, is difficult in itself since the biggest reason for kids leaving the villages is poverty and the desire to gain money or goods for labor. These cannot be provided for young people in subsistence villages where commerce and development is difficult to implement without money and also without electricity. This week I also intervied tzo young men who had left to work in Nigeria when they were 18-20 and then brought kids over themselves. One of the men stopped leaving the village and is completely against this migrant labor and said he didnt gain anything from the experience. The other man is still trafficking youths over the border to Nigeria where he owns his own plot of land. He has the youths work two jobs - one on his farm to pay back the "debt" of smuggling them over the border and the other as the actual job to earn money or a motorcycle. He had a very different and more positive opinion on the practice although his responses might have been more biased since he still brings kids to Nigeria from the village.

So far its been really interesting talking to people, but I still have so many more interviews to conduct and different types of people to discuss this with. Ive started thinking about what could be done to prevent young people from leaving the village, but its difficult since the root fo the problem seems to be poverty, but theres no cash/money to be earned by anyone in the village either. hmmm...

week 1

Hi all!

So for the past week I have been settling in on top of a mountain in northern Togo. The mountain is great! On Sunday I read on these rocks that are positioned like a lounge chair with a really nice cross breeze - amazing. The food here is really good. The sauces are awesome and everything is made from ingredients either cultivated by the family or from the plants nearby. Ive grown to love rice and beans but still getting used to the sorghum pate that you eat with your hands and then dip in the sauce. I suppose its an acquired taste.

Yesterday along with my translator/assistant/advisor Jespere I interviewed several people in the valley village of Farende about child trafficking in the area. I spoke with 2 grandparents, the host father of Rui (another Duke student), a shop owner, and two others in the market. All were vehemently opposed to the trafficking since it leaves their family shorthanded when their livelihood depends on subsistence farming. If the kids return from Nigeria, etc they often come back only with a menial amount of money (for school fees) or materialistic and thus useless goods likes videos, tvs, motorcycles, etc. Even if they could be harnessed to create an income, it would take to long to turn that around for it to be meaningful to the family. The people I interviewed were older (parent-aged) and seemed more traditional and so the kids breaking their ties and allegiances to the family was very hurtful to them. Sometimes kids (who leave around ages 14-15) return with mills. These types of goods that could benefit the family and the entire village immediately received a mixture of reactions - people did not want to accept the children secretly leaving the village but they did not want to deny the huge benefits of a local mill. One person said that if the child left, returned with something beneficial, and then stayed in the village then that was sort of okay but if the child kept leaving for Nigeria then that was detrimental. I was also surprised by the number of girls who left the village for housekeeping jobs both internationally and domestically, and by the impact trafficking has had concerning the spread of disease namely HIV in the village.

The main response for the cause of the trafficking was poverty. Everyone so far believes that if parents were better able to support their children in the education, health, etc that the kids would stay in the village and help their families. One person even suggested family planning as a way to help prevent trafficking, which I think is incredibly interesting. He said that if families had less kids, then they would have more money to keep them in school, the kids would then be better educated and be able to bring modernization (like tractors) back to the family, which would in turn improve their life styles and harvest returns. This is interesting considering that in school when we learn about the "demographic transition," it is often inferred that agricultural lifestyles are a reason for having more children (more laborers) - but what this man was saying is that the families could do without all of the kids working on the farm and that what is needed is better family planning access and education.

This week I am back in the south in the capital city Lomé to speak with NGOs about what they are doing concerning the issue.

Arrived in Togo!

I arrived safely in Togo on Tuesday! I am currently staying in the north in the village (Kuwde) where I will be spending the majority of my time. I knew that it would be remote where I am staying and I had prepared myself for or rather expected differences in lifestyle (eg no running water or electricity, mud brick huts/buildings) but I am still amazed at how functional, clean, and "modern" the housing is considering when Americans think of mud huts its not usually in a positive light... The village is situated on top of a mountain ridge the overlooks this huge plain the view is beautiful, and the weather is great its hot but with a nice breeze. I already got slightly sunburned but no surprised there...

At lunch today I met a guy named Kojo who works with a childs rights NGO in a nearby city and so I will be able to visit his NGO and orphanage and one of the border towns that all the trafficked kids pass through. Exciting!

Sorry I dont have a lot of time but better/more interesting (hopefully) posts to come!

Pre-Departure

For those interested, here is the abstract of my project to get an idea of what exactly I will be attempting to accomplish... 

Abstract:

This research project will examine the international trafficking of children from the village of Kuwdé in northern Togo to Nigeria and its health implications, and will be used to organize a community-based prevention program. Trafficking of children from the northern villages is a growing health and human rights concern, as it is grounded in exploitation, poverty, and the loss of income from disease. Although NGOs and human rights organizations have already worked with community leaders, parents, and teachers to fight trafficking, the children themselves have not been targeted by these efforts. Through interviews and participant observation, the research project will approach this pressing issue by exploring what factors allow for the presence of trafficking and the participation by the children, and how the children view their health in relationship to trafficking. The research will then be presented to the community, and used in a collaboration to create trafficking prevention workshops for vulnerable children.