A Different Kind of 'White Christmas'



“Azã loo! Azã see!” We scream in the local language as we feast, dance and drink this holiday season. In the past, the holiday season signified to me an ending to final exams, an ending to the year, traveling home, spending time with the ones I love, decorating my home for the festivities, listening to Christmas carols, and weathering the cold, specifically, the snow. Nothing about this holiday season has been familiar to me except for the fact that 2018 is coming to an end and I did spend the holidays with family, my Togolese family.

December did not just mark my sixth month of living in Togo, it also has welcomed Harmattan—the winds that come from the north that bring hot days and chilly nights and mornings. Harmattan is the longer of two dry seasons and it brings dust, lots and lots of white dust. Everything I see is perpetually covered in this dust: my house, my clothes, my body, and most significantly, my sinuses. To be clear, I am thrilled with the cooler weather and winds that allow me to wear a jacket every morning, something that I did not expect nor did I pack for. But, this white dust has brought the challenge of effectively conserving water, something that is necessary while the wells are drying up and the river is low, but hard when I am consistently dirty and I want to wash my shoes, house and feet. I have traded glistening white snow for dry white dust. White Christmas has a whole new look, and I have come to embrace it.

Preparation for the holidays did not entail finishing final exams, decorating my house, or listening to Christmas carols. Instead, I prepared for the holidays in a different way—by helping my neighbors harvest corn so they can sell it and make money. Yes, I walked a mile to the farm and harvested corn with my own two hands, something I never thought I would do. During this dry season, a lot of time is spent at the farm harvesting corn, beans, and tofu to sell at the market. Farming is not just a job here, it is a part of daily life because it is so common and so many people rely on the cash flow and food subsistence that comes from farming. Rather than anticipating the arrival of the jolly old man wearing a big red suit—who is, by the way, unknown to the Togolese—we welcome the new harvests and the riches they bring. Christmas, as I’ve found out, is an event for kids. January 1st is the more largely celebrated holiday.

I woke up on Christmas morning almost forgetting that it was Christmas. There were no noisy kids anxious to unwrap presents, and no one had read ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas in anticipation of the day. On Christmas day, I dressed up in the new pagne outfit my tailor made, and I went to the 7:30am Catholic church service with my good friends in the village. We left church at 10am, and from then, my good friends and I started preparing a fufu feast with a chicken I had just bought off the farm. In the late afternoon, all my closest friends gathered on my porch and we ate fufu with peanut sauce and we ended the holiday at the local bar drinking beers and sodas. And even though I was not able to travel home for the holidays, I was overjoyed to be able to videocall my family back home to wish them a merry Christmas and introduce them to my Togolese family. My Togo Christmas was spent surrounded with the ones I have come to love, and I am excited to welcome the New Year with them as well.

Happy New Year one and all!


My Christmas outfit because it isn’t a holiday in Togo without shoulder pads.


Christmas morning I went to church with one of my good friends, who is also called Kossiwa, and also brought my neighbor’s toddler.


Pounding Fufu with my friend Kossiwa. Fufu is a Togolese specialty made from pounded yams.




Our Christmas feast included fufu with peanut sauce and chicken, and cold beers and water (those are the plastic bags in the bowl).


Following my neighbor and good friend, Kristine, to the farm. It is common for mothers to wrap their child around their back in pagne fabric and to carry basins on top of their heads.


I did as the mamas here do and wrapped Jacque, my neighbor, around my back in pagne. (I did need some help with this.)


I also transported corn above my head as the Togolese woman do.


The corn I helped harvest at the farm.

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