Feet on the Ground in Togo

The end was fast and unexpected. It was so sudden, it numbed me. I didn’t feel anything for the first hours following the early Monday morning message that globally all Peace Corps volunteers were being evacuated. Maybe I was numb because I was exhausted from dealing with the tragedy that had, just a week earlier, struck my community. Maybe I was numb but my mind was running a mile-a-minute as I packed and said goodbye to the Togolese people who mean the most to me. Maybe I was numb because it all seemed so surreal, and I wasn’t ready to accept the reality and gravity of the situation. Let me back up. On Tuesday, March 10 my village experienced heavy winds and rains, a signal of the rainy season’s commencement. The start of the rains is welcome. It begins the farming season and ends the cool and dusty dry season. Something that is normally celebrated was reviled that day. On Tuesday, March 10 the heavy winds and rains knocked down a cement wall at the elementary school, injuring ...

It was my sixth week in Togo when my youngest host brother, Edoh, at two years old, fell sick. I noticed something was off about him immediately because he wasn’t the same chicken-chasing, banana-stealing little boy. Instead on this morning, he was lethargic, apathetic and burning hot to the touch. My host mother took Edoh to the community health worker who confirmed that he had malaria. I was frightened to hear about Edoh’s diagnosis, but the worst part was it seemed everyone around me from his parents to his siblings and his neighbors seemed to have no worries at all, reassured that as long as he took the medication, he would be fine. I wasn’t so reassured as my limited knowledge of malaria from just a few training sessions about the disease left me disheartened and worried for Edoh’s life. Malaria kills, and it is especially deadly for kids. Why wasn’t my host mother freaking out like I was? I tried asking my host mom about his illness and her thoughts, but my broken French...

In October I asked family and friends to contribute to a grant project I initiated for the small community in Togo where I live and serve. I was amazed beyond belief that in four days we reached our goal--Thank you, Thank you, Thank you everyone--and I am so excited to say that as of last week that project has officially been completed! The project's goal was to repair the well and running water at the local clinic in hopes of motivating more women to give birth there as well as increase the clinic's hygiene and sanitation levels. The project took seven weeks from start to finish and included deconstructing the old tower, building a new water tower, emptying and cleaning the current well and replacing all of the plumbing and faucets in the clinic. All of the materials were bought in country and the labor came from technicians in the community. I have created a  pdf document  which shows the project's seven-week progression. This new water tower brings running water to t...

Piercing shrieks came without pause from the small, wiry little guy rocking on the hard, white tile table. This was the rhythm and frequency of sheer, agonizing and raw pain, and I had never heard nor seen pain like this before. The shaking, rocking, screaming mass was an innocent, young boy who was getting stitched up without anesthesia. The boy, Matthieu, had fallen off his bike the night before and scraped his knee. Fearful of getting in trouble, he did not tell his father about the ping-pong ball sized gash. When his father discovered the deep wound the next morning, he immediately brought Matthieu to the clinic for care, but the hours that had passed were unforgiving. The skin around the wound had already relaxed and curled back, which made for stitches that would need to be forced and pulled in directions that almost didn’t seem natural. The clinic could not offer Matthieu relief through anesthetic or pain medication because the clinic just did not have any. The clinic I wo...

I have so much to be thankful for as I reflect on this past year. I am so grateful for the support system that has been cheering me on since I first started this journey in Togo. I am thankful for the Grace Episcopal Church community, the Hinsdale community, the teacher community from my high school and my family and friends that continue to follow this blog and so readily and happily donated to the grant project I am undertaking. Thank you for your endless emotional and material support. And as much as I am thankful for my cheerleaders back home, I am ever grateful for many of the gifts I have received here in Togo. The following are a few things that have brought me happiness in Togo: 1. The best friend: Christine Christine is only a few years older than me. She is married with one child and works as a tailor when she isn’t working on her farm. She is my best friend here in Togo, and her son, Eli, at just two years old is--as the community claims and teases--my husband. Christine was...

In June I took a vacation to Morocco with my good friend from college, Kellen. The summer and fall months in the States mark the rainy season in Togo which means it's also farm season. Here I am helping plant soy among the corn crops. My friend, Catherine, and I supporting the red, white, and blue for the 4th of July in the Togolese fabric, pagne. When it comes to talking about malaria, sometimes you have to get creative. These past few days, my closest neighbor, Tarah, and I turned a popular cards game into a malaria conversation starter at each other’s markets. At the tchouk (the local beer) stand, we played a card game that involved putting up a mosquito net, singing about mosquitos, malaria two truths and a lie, and answering basic questions about malaria. It can be hard to get community members to come and participate in health talks, so we brought the talk to them. In July, I traveled up north in Togo to watch a Togolese favorite wrestling match called Eva...