Due to excess of excitment from last week, I was unable to give a basic description of my setting here in Africa. But here are the basics:
The family:Kabiyé families are unique in that they use words like brothers and sisters to refer to cousins and grandpapa or grandmama to refer to elders. Thus, it is always confusing about who are actually the biological children of the parents. In addition, children often lived in aunt and uncle's houses depending on whether those houses needed extra help. To complicate things more, men could also have multiple wives.
My host family is one of the less complicated cases. There's the mom (Justine) and dad (Monsieur Kofi). They have 5 daughters: Vivian (10), Destiné (9), Flora (6?), Florine (6?), Adeline (18 months). The girls are vibrant and intelligent, and the personalities of each family member is comparable to the girls in Jane Austen's novel.
The oldest daughter Vivian is like the eldest daughter who likes to be carefree, but she holds herself back because she knows that she has the most responsibilities. The second oldest, Destiné, is like Liz, in that she knows that she has lots of responsibilities, but she is free to express her feelings. She dances and sing the best out of all of them. Since she has more free time than Vivian, she gets to perfect her card-playing and hop-scotching skills. She is the most delightful to me, at least. The twins (Flora and Florine) are kind of overshadowed by their older sisters and by each other. Flora is girlier than Florine. The youngest, Adelline, is the darling of the family. Her forever-smiling face and tackle hugs warns your heart ever time you look at her. She can't speak quite yet, but she is always making noises like "Tanti" (refering to mom), and "Bee" (refering to me).
I actually have a Kabiyé name now, and it is Tchilalou, which means that I am the daughter of Wednesday, the day I arrived. Rui turned out to be too complicated for them to pronounce, so Tchilalou would have to do. Most everyone calls and knows me by that now. The other day, a bunch of children were chanting "En-Sa-ra," which means white person, to me. I told them that my name was Tchilalou, so instead of chanting "ensara," they chanted "Tchilalou" with a rythym that made me feel like I had my personal cheer-leading squad.
The family also has three other older boys who are middle school students. They are the cousins of the family, but they eat, live and cultivate with my host family due to reasons that I still have not figured out. I think that this family needed more help, so these boys help them out in return for food. They are super smart, funny, and good humored guys. They are Kofi (the younger), Tami, Aklam. I am not exactly sure how their Kabiyé names are spelled, but here's my best try. With these boys, I learned the several popular card games, including one that is called the American game. It is really like Uno but with playing cards. I am proud to say that I have won several games so far.
The rest of the household consists of at least 5 dogs, 10 chickens, several lamb, and a few pigs. I have never lived close to so many animals in my life, and I have never realized that each of them has a unique characteristic. For example, there's a crippled chicken who likes to go into my room a lot. I think that it thinks that my room is the grain storage or something. One time, I came back to my room and found two chickens under my desk. Aw, gotta love my family.
A typical day:
Each day, I get up at around 5:30am. Don't worry, this is fairly normal because due to a lack of electricity, I go to bed around 8:30pm or 9:00pm. When the sun rises at around 5am, I am up as well. Just this week, my host family decided that I don't exercise enough (meaning walking to work, going up the mountain at least twice at week is not enough), and got me to go running at 6am everyday. My host dad used to work with the Chinese at the hospital in the nearest big city, so he said that I should be more like the other Chinese who exercise every morning. I agreed that I needed to be in shape, so this Monday morning, I got my personal training schedule. Basically, I go running with one of the older daughters in the morning at the soccer field behind the middle school. It is refreshing, I have to say. I am glad that I am running with one of the girls, because at least this way, I can still out-run them.
By 7:30am, I usually have already taken a shower and have eaten my oatmeal breakfast. By 8am, I am at work shadowing the nurses and medical assistant. So far, I have gone through pretty much all of the functions of the small medical clinic. I will talk about my work more next time. At noon exactly, everyone leaves to eat lunch and rest away from the unforgiving sun. By three in the afternoon, everyone goes back or work, but the afternoon is never that important, so there are hardly any patients by then. I just take that time to reflect, write, or read.
Every Wednesday, I go to the market in the big city, Kara, and every Friday, I climb up the mountain to work with the villages and the medical insurance system. I am really excited about what I am doing, and I will tell you about it next week.
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
The Chinese, we will always find each other
I have just survived through my first power outage in Kara, and almost my first day in the markets. This first experience has been so surreal that I am going to slowly reflect on all of the things that happenedtoday and end with how fortunate I am.
I was initially very apprehensive about my trip to the market in Kara.The main reasons were: My French is still very broken; I have no bargaining skills; and I had to do this all alone. Alex and Madeline had left with Dr. Piot on Tuesday--the day before the big Wednesday's market day--to Lomé because Alex needed medical attention and Madeline had work to do in Lomé. I was the only one who stayed in the village to continue my work. Fortunately, my mentor in Farendé, Jespère, decided that he would train me on the basics of bargaining.
Here are the protocols:
1. You must greet the seller either in Kabiyé (prefered b/c it showed that you are trying to be a part of their culture) or in French;
2. Ask for the price, or ask for the name of the product if you have no idea what the pile of stuff in front of you is;
3. Ask them to lower their price, but only on items that they have grown and never on packaged items (according to Jaspère, they are there b/c they need money; thus to ask for a price that is too low is inhumane. There are also different prices at different time of the dayas well, so you can do your bargaining accordingly);
4. Discuss theprice with the seller;
5. Ask for a final price;
6. After the transaction, be sure to say goodbye as you leave.
If you do these steps well, not only will you get a good price, you will also have established a relationship with the seller. The next time that you buy from them, you can call them friends and get a better price (maybe).
With these protocols, I went around the little night market in Farendé with Jespère and Tako (one of the nurses at CMS) and practiced these bargaining skills. Jespère made me do it over and over until I was comfortable with the whole thing.
Now Wednesday arrives with a brilliant sunrise. I put on my entire market gear (backpack, water, notebooks, camera, money, a thick layer of sunblock), adjusted my cap and was ready for this first day in the markets. I initially met up with the cousin of Jespère, who showed me the taxi that would take me to Ketao (a town inbetween Farendé and Kara). Then I met Laby, a linguist at the University of Kara whom I met the day before while walking home.
Both of us were crammed into a beat-up volts-wagon, which is designed for 5 or 6 people at max (as far as safety goes), with a total of 9 people. I was sharing the front seat with an old man, trying not to hit the break or the stick-shift while shielding my ears from the blasting music and the random shouts from the driver. It was an interesting ride, to say the least.
Once I reached Katow, the old man who was sitting beside me was going to Kara as well, so he took me to my next taxi, which had much more room, and I had a proper seat. The entire ride was absolutely scenic with the mountains, palm trees and rolling grasslands.
Once I reached Kara, the kind young driver decided to take me to the market. It seemed that he had nothing to do in Kara so he was going to be my personal tour guide. He showed me where to find all the things I needed, including important information like where one can find the best mango, clothe, and so forth.
I knew that there were Chinese people who lived here, so I asked to meet some. He told me that he had a friend in the police station who could give us some directions, so off I went to the police station in Kara. I find it amusing that I would end up in a police station talking to an officer about the local culture. He invited me to watch the local wrestling matches that occurs every July. In addition, I learned that my driver and him were friends from Pagouda (another city north of where I live), and both of them played soccer in Kara. At the end, he gave us the directions to the Chniese pharmacy just a few steps away from the police station. Oh, the driver's name was Gafar.
Gafar and I arrived at the pharmacy, and an old to middle aged Chinese man sat at the counter. I gave my proper Chinese greetings, and we begin to chat in Chinese. It turns out that the Chinese man, Mr. Cao, is from the same area where I was born in China. He had the same accent, and even a similar history as my grandpa.
Imagine what I was feeling and thinking. Wow, in the middle of Africa, I would find an old relative (or that's how we call people who comes from the same place in China) who loved to talk about Chinese history and politics. In addition to our conversations about the local culture, he also gave me a brief history lesson on China. I learned that he was exiled during the Culture Revolution (like my grandpa), worked in the Chinese army, became an official in a factory, and came to Togo through a random turn of events. His entire family is still in China, and he had just came back from visiting them.
At the end of our conversation, he invited me and my friend to eat. It was great to taste some Chinese food at last. I promised that I would regard him as my uncle now and will come to greet him every time I am in Kara. So through these amazing turn of events, I am here in the small internet café writing up this blog. I promise that I will give more context details in the next blog. There are just too many things to write, and I could go on for longer than my time limit allows. So signing off from Togo, until next time, take care.
I was initially very apprehensive about my trip to the market in Kara.The main reasons were: My French is still very broken; I have no bargaining skills; and I had to do this all alone. Alex and Madeline had left with Dr. Piot on Tuesday--the day before the big Wednesday's market day--to Lomé because Alex needed medical attention and Madeline had work to do in Lomé. I was the only one who stayed in the village to continue my work. Fortunately, my mentor in Farendé, Jespère, decided that he would train me on the basics of bargaining.
Here are the protocols:
1. You must greet the seller either in Kabiyé (prefered b/c it showed that you are trying to be a part of their culture) or in French;
2. Ask for the price, or ask for the name of the product if you have no idea what the pile of stuff in front of you is;
3. Ask them to lower their price, but only on items that they have grown and never on packaged items (according to Jaspère, they are there b/c they need money; thus to ask for a price that is too low is inhumane. There are also different prices at different time of the dayas well, so you can do your bargaining accordingly);
4. Discuss theprice with the seller;
5. Ask for a final price;
6. After the transaction, be sure to say goodbye as you leave.
If you do these steps well, not only will you get a good price, you will also have established a relationship with the seller. The next time that you buy from them, you can call them friends and get a better price (maybe).
With these protocols, I went around the little night market in Farendé with Jespère and Tako (one of the nurses at CMS) and practiced these bargaining skills. Jespère made me do it over and over until I was comfortable with the whole thing.
Now Wednesday arrives with a brilliant sunrise. I put on my entire market gear (backpack, water, notebooks, camera, money, a thick layer of sunblock), adjusted my cap and was ready for this first day in the markets. I initially met up with the cousin of Jespère, who showed me the taxi that would take me to Ketao (a town inbetween Farendé and Kara). Then I met Laby, a linguist at the University of Kara whom I met the day before while walking home.
Both of us were crammed into a beat-up volts-wagon, which is designed for 5 or 6 people at max (as far as safety goes), with a total of 9 people. I was sharing the front seat with an old man, trying not to hit the break or the stick-shift while shielding my ears from the blasting music and the random shouts from the driver. It was an interesting ride, to say the least.
Once I reached Katow, the old man who was sitting beside me was going to Kara as well, so he took me to my next taxi, which had much more room, and I had a proper seat. The entire ride was absolutely scenic with the mountains, palm trees and rolling grasslands.
Once I reached Kara, the kind young driver decided to take me to the market. It seemed that he had nothing to do in Kara so he was going to be my personal tour guide. He showed me where to find all the things I needed, including important information like where one can find the best mango, clothe, and so forth.
I knew that there were Chinese people who lived here, so I asked to meet some. He told me that he had a friend in the police station who could give us some directions, so off I went to the police station in Kara. I find it amusing that I would end up in a police station talking to an officer about the local culture. He invited me to watch the local wrestling matches that occurs every July. In addition, I learned that my driver and him were friends from Pagouda (another city north of where I live), and both of them played soccer in Kara. At the end, he gave us the directions to the Chniese pharmacy just a few steps away from the police station. Oh, the driver's name was Gafar.
Gafar and I arrived at the pharmacy, and an old to middle aged Chinese man sat at the counter. I gave my proper Chinese greetings, and we begin to chat in Chinese. It turns out that the Chinese man, Mr. Cao, is from the same area where I was born in China. He had the same accent, and even a similar history as my grandpa.
Imagine what I was feeling and thinking. Wow, in the middle of Africa, I would find an old relative (or that's how we call people who comes from the same place in China) who loved to talk about Chinese history and politics. In addition to our conversations about the local culture, he also gave me a brief history lesson on China. I learned that he was exiled during the Culture Revolution (like my grandpa), worked in the Chinese army, became an official in a factory, and came to Togo through a random turn of events. His entire family is still in China, and he had just came back from visiting them.
At the end of our conversation, he invited me and my friend to eat. It was great to taste some Chinese food at last. I promised that I would regard him as my uncle now and will come to greet him every time I am in Kara. So through these amazing turn of events, I am here in the small internet café writing up this blog. I promise that I will give more context details in the next blog. There are just too many things to write, and I could go on for longer than my time limit allows. So signing off from Togo, until next time, take care.
Sunday, June 7, 2009
First Act: Bienvenue à Lomé!
The crew:
Dr. Piot: our anthropologist, historian, tour-guide, contact, tech
person... etc. in residence
Fidèle: Dr. Piot's assistant, a law-student, and basically the mom of
the group. She is absolutely charming, friendly, caring, and full of
spirit.
Serra, Alex, Madeline, Emmanualle and me: students who are on this
trip to learn about Togo and hopefully contribute to it.
The story:
Today, the schedule included breakfasting at Dr. Piot's palce with
local breads, mountain honey and fruits,
visiting a Penacostal Church worship assembly, eating fufu and a
fish/vegetable sauce, drinking and talking at Niko Mom's house,
walking on the beach, and discussing about what
to do for the next few days.I won't attempt to describe everything,
but here are the highlights.
Dr. Piot has been researching on the Churches in Togo, so
we were fortunate enough to visit one. The church was like a modern
day gospel church (like a huge First Baptist Church). It was inside a
sp
acious concrete lot with a tin roof and walls that
did not reach the ceiling (to allow fresh-air to flow into the
building in the humid hot heat). The entire place was filled with plastic chairs like the ones you find
at stadiums. Rows of fans lined the ceiling to circulate the air as
hundreds of people sang and danced for worship. The sermon was given
in the local language, which was probably Ewe. The translator beside
him spoke in French. The style of the sermon was very much like a
Baptist Pastor's sermon with repeats of words and idea
and Halleluia and Amens dispersed throughout. Like my church back in
the US, they prayed outloud as the pastor asked for the Holy Spirit to
be on them. I can't say that I understood much of the sermon, but it
was a good experience nevertheless.
After Church, we went for our first lunch. Dr. Piot's good Friend,
Niko, joined us for our first-ever-tasting of fufu. Fufu is not tofu.
it is a white, soft ball of mashed yams. I had it with a fish
and vegetable sauce. By sauce, I mean a cooked dish with
a meat, spice and vegetables. We all learned how to eat with our
right-hand only, and how to pick up the fufu, dip it in the sauce,
roll them up and put it in our mouths. The following picture shows us
at our first meal. The food is incredibly flavorful, and I am all up
for licking my fingers.
As I learned during the meal, buying food in
Togo is based on a price-fixed system. It means that when you order,
you give the waitor a certain price that you want to pay. Based on the
market value, the waitor brings out how much food your money could buy
for you. In contrast, the US is based on a quantity-fixed system where
the serving of a hamberger never changes, but the price of it changes
depending on the market. This was new to me, but at least I can make
sure I don't over-spend, kind of.
The second memorable experience was visiting Niko's mom's homestead. It was
located in the sub-burbs of Lomé, which was more like the country-side
of Lomé. There, we sat in wooden chairs underneath a mango tree
(mangiere) in the court-yard and chatted with Niko's mom, aunt, uncle,
and brothers. Now I know why Dr. Piot says that the Kabiyé people are
very friendly. The moment we were seated, Niko's mom brought out her
best batch of sorgum beer (According to Dr. Piot, she is the best
sorgum beer maker that he has ever met). Sorgum beer is a drink that
has a tangy-bitter and sparkling taste to it. The closest that I can
compare it to is the fermented bread drink that I had in the food-lab
for microbiology. The first sip is never that great because it is an
aquired taste. But after a few sips, I begin to get used to the taste.
Just so you know, I am not a drinker at all. The last time I tasted
beer must have been when I was back in China when even kids were
allowed to taste and drink some beer. Tasting this beer is out of my
courtesy to the host, and I only drank about half a cup. However, this
was a very good drink when coupled to a greasy pancake (made from
smashed beans and vegetable) and a hot green peper sauce. The
tangy-bitterness washes down everything pretty well.
Our conversation revolved around people moving down from Northern Togo
and the latest developments of the Togo soccer team. Can't say that I
contributed much to the conversation because I am still struggling to
understand everything in French. After our conversation, we had a mall
tour of the yard. The family has a small patch of corn and other
vegetable near the back of the yard. There were at least two mango
trees and a papaya tree. The family also had around three hens and
several chicklets, three dogs, a cat, two goats... and I think that is
it. Oh, we also found a blackboard, on which the boy in the family has
worked out some physics problems about momentum. It was a delight, to
say the least, to see someone who liked physics in the middle of Lomé.
After the tour, I said that I wished I could climb the mango tree like
the boy in the house when he retrieved mangos. Well, Alex challenged
me to it, so up I went. It was a great experience becase the tree was
very easy to clim. But nevertheless, What was I thinking climbing a
tree?! I can't say that alcohol, even in small amounts, did not have
an effect...
By the time we left Niko mom's house, we were stuffed. Dr. Piot wanted
to show us the beach, so we made a nice stop there. The sand was
absolutely beautiful, and there was a big beach party happening on the
beach. Hundreds of people, couples and families strolled along the
white-sand beach that was beaten by the foamy white waves. Several brave
souls attempted to swim in the deep blue ocean. Gigantic colonial
mansions in white lime stood along the beach with palm trees hiding
them in their shades. Unfortuantely, many of these mansions were left
to ruins after the colonial period and no body has had the money or
time to renovate them. It's too bad that the government cannot protect
these historial treasures.
All in all, I have had a great first day experience, and I have no
fear that I shall find exciting things to do in Togo with my crew. Sorry for the lack of photos. Hopefully, I will have learned how to upload the photos in the cyber cafe by the next post.
Until next time, take care!
Dr. Piot: our anthropologist, historian, tour-guide, contact, tech
person... etc. in residence
Fidèle: Dr. Piot's assistant, a law-student, and basically the mom of
the group. She is absolutely charming, friendly, caring, and full of
spirit.
Serra, Alex, Madeline, Emmanualle and me: students who are on this
trip to learn about Togo and hopefully contribute to it.
The story:
Today, the schedule included breakfasting at Dr. Piot's palce with
local breads, mountain honey and fruits,
visiting a Penacostal Church worship assembly, eating fufu and a
fish/vegetable sauce, drinking and talking at Niko Mom's house,
walking on the beach, and discussing about what
to do for the next few days.I won't attempt to describe everything,
but here are the highlights.
Dr. Piot has been researching on the Churches in Togo, so
we were fortunate enough to visit one. The church was like a modern
day gospel church (like a huge First Baptist Church). It was inside a
sp
acious concrete lot with a tin roof and walls thatdid not reach the ceiling (to allow fresh-air to flow into the
building in the humid hot heat). The entire place was filled with plastic chairs like the ones you find
at stadiums. Rows of fans lined the ceiling to circulate the air as
hundreds of people sang and danced for worship. The sermon was given
in the local language, which was probably Ewe. The translator beside
him spoke in French. The style of the sermon was very much like a
Baptist Pastor's sermon with repeats of words and idea
and Halleluia and Amens dispersed throughout. Like my church back in
the US, they prayed outloud as the pastor asked for the Holy Spirit to
be on them. I can't say that I understood much of the sermon, but it
was a good experience nevertheless.
After Church, we went for our first lunch. Dr. Piot's good Friend,
Niko, joined us for our first-ever-tasting of fufu. Fufu is not tofu.
it is a white, soft ball of mashed yams. I had it with a fish
and vegetable sauce. By sauce, I mean a cooked dish with
a meat, spice and vegetables. We all learned how to eat with our
right-hand only, and how to pick up the fufu, dip it in the sauce,
roll them up and put it in our mouths. The following picture shows us
at our first meal. The food is incredibly flavorful, and I am all up
for licking my fingers.
As I learned during the meal, buying food in
Togo is based on a price-fixed system. It means that when you order,
you give the waitor a certain price that you want to pay. Based on the
market value, the waitor brings out how much food your money could buy
for you. In contrast, the US is based on a quantity-fixed system where
the serving of a hamberger never changes, but the price of it changes
depending on the market. This was new to me, but at least I can make
sure I don't over-spend, kind of.
The second memorable experience was visiting Niko's mom's homestead. It was
located in the sub-burbs of Lomé, which was more like the country-side
of Lomé. There, we sat in wooden chairs underneath a mango tree
(mangiere) in the court-yard and chatted with Niko's mom, aunt, uncle,
and brothers. Now I know why Dr. Piot says that the Kabiyé people are
very friendly. The moment we were seated, Niko's mom brought out her
best batch of sorgum beer (According to Dr. Piot, she is the best
sorgum beer maker that he has ever met). Sorgum beer is a drink that
has a tangy-bitter and sparkling taste to it. The closest that I can
compare it to is the fermented bread drink that I had in the food-lab
for microbiology. The first sip is never that great because it is an
aquired taste. But after a few sips, I begin to get used to the taste.
Just so you know, I am not a drinker at all. The last time I tasted
beer must have been when I was back in China when even kids were
allowed to taste and drink some beer. Tasting this beer is out of my
courtesy to the host, and I only drank about half a cup. However, this
was a very good drink when coupled to a greasy pancake (made from
smashed beans and vegetable) and a hot green peper sauce. The
tangy-bitterness washes down everything pretty well.
Our conversation revolved around people moving down from Northern Togo
and the latest developments of the Togo soccer team. Can't say that I
contributed much to the conversation because I am still struggling to
understand everything in French. After our conversation, we had a mall
tour of the yard. The family has a small patch of corn and other
vegetable near the back of the yard. There were at least two mango
trees and a papaya tree. The family also had around three hens and
several chicklets, three dogs, a cat, two goats... and I think that is
it. Oh, we also found a blackboard, on which the boy in the family has
worked out some physics problems about momentum. It was a delight, to
say the least, to see someone who liked physics in the middle of Lomé.
After the tour, I said that I wished I could climb the mango tree like
the boy in the house when he retrieved mangos. Well, Alex challenged
me to it, so up I went. It was a great experience becase the tree was
very easy to clim. But nevertheless, What was I thinking climbing a
tree?! I can't say that alcohol, even in small amounts, did not have
an effect...
By the time we left Niko mom's house, we were stuffed. Dr. Piot wanted
to show us the beach, so we made a nice stop there. The sand was
absolutely beautiful, and there was a big beach party happening on the
beach. Hundreds of people, couples and families strolled along the
white-sand beach that was beaten by the foamy white waves. Several brave
souls attempted to swim in the deep blue ocean. Gigantic colonial
mansions in white lime stood along the beach with palm trees hiding
them in their shades. Unfortuantely, many of these mansions were left
to ruins after the colonial period and no body has had the money or
time to renovate them. It's too bad that the government cannot protect
these historial treasures.
All in all, I have had a great first day experience, and I have no
fear that I shall find exciting things to do in Togo with my crew. Sorry for the lack of photos. Hopefully, I will have learned how to upload the photos in the cyber cafe by the next post.
Until next time, take care!
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