And then there were two

Again

Home sweet home  

I could feel my skin drying out in the bush taxi up north last week.  Literally.  

Getting home was a saga in and of itself.  On Saturday, in Bassar, we hung out with an RPCV from the 60s who is now an archaeology professor.  He's been doing research on iron smelting in west Kara.  He's found evidence of iron smelting since 400 BCE.  One of the pumps we replaced is apparently right in the middle of a iron smelting/communal grave site that he's been excavating   He was really cool to talk to.  Knows more about Togolese history than any 3 books Ive read. 

Sunday, the saga of D's electricity and her douchebag landlord came to an end when the people from the power company finally brought her her own counter.  I dont think i have ever been so pissed at someone in my life as i have been at her (absentee) landlord. 

Monday, I finally made it home.  Bike Paul (the guy who does bike training/repair for PC) came to Bina on his bike repair tour.  He tuned up D's bike.  She tested it and crashed in a ditch.  My first hint that something was wrong was when I saw a bunch of people suddenly sprint down the road where she was.  But I got a free ride up to Kouka.  In a PC Landrover, this took about 45 minutes.  With A/C.  It took Bike Paul about an hour to fix my bike.  It had issues. 

I got home and Tadji came out to say hi.  Then Ninghan came out to hiss at me.  Then they kissed.  The funny thing was that Petite had been feeding them for the 10 days I was gone and hadnt realized that Nighan was back.  She came out while I was sitting on my porch.  My whole family was agog.  Seriously.

Hot season is here.  It is house building season.  This lets me indulge my inner child and play with mud.  So, to build a house here, they make mud brick.  For the foundation they use chunks of lava rock, set in mud.  Then they start with the brick.  Its pretty fun.  I like mortaring the brick in place.  With mud.  I set a course along one side of the house by myself and Ntifoni was like "Daniel, tu es bon."

I wake up at least twice a night to roll out of my current sweat puddle and find a dry spot.  If I drug myself to sleep.  The heat lingers in the shadows during hot season.  Especially after the sun goes down.  The wind picks up, so its bearable outside, but inside its stifling.  Sometimes I think that Im stewing in my own body heat.   

Lome blues

There are a lot of things I dont like about Lome.  The humidity.  The sand.  The humidity.  Vendors who think you want to buy their crap. The humidity.  Necessary AC.  The humidity.  Uncooperative taxi drivers.  The humidity. Etc.  But there are a lot of things I like about it too.

I enjoy sitting at the beach bar (one of several) in the evening.  Vendors come buy selling cigarettes/breath mints/chinese condoms, watches, stuffed animals, tourist knickknacks, etc.  usually this is annoying, but sometimes they have Swisher Sweet cigars.  Nothing better than a cigar on the beach with a cold one.  Looking at the ships off the coast and making sure some kid doesnt run off with D's purse.  Seriously, I really enjoy beach bar. 

We eat Really well in Lome.  After taking the GRE, D and a bunch of people went to this Lebanese downtown.  I met up with them there.  The owner said he'd make us food for 4 mille a person.  He must have brought out 10 different dishes.  We were stuffed. With leftovers. 

D and I go to this other Lebanese spot near the Bureau a lot.  Its like a bakery I guess with a wood fired oven outside.  We get pita bread baked with cheese or spices or meat.  Its really good.  And they have "turkish" coffee. which is always amazing.

Lome also has a large chinese expat community, so there are a bunch of chinese restaurants near here.  We tried out one a couple days ago.  I had sweet/sour chicken for the first time in like 2 years.

We also had fried calimari another night. 

We obtained a copy of the new Les Miserables the other night.  I woke up the next morning with the songs stuck in my head.

I usually hate AC, but i need to stop sweating at some point.  All the PCVs from up north always moan about how humid Lome is.  Up north its hotter, but much dryer.  I seriously dont know how people could stand it here before electricity. 

Another nice thing about Lome is that there is ice cream here.  Mint milkshake.  That's all I'm saying. 

Actually, another problem with Lome is that its easy to blow a lot of money on eating here.  Who wants to drop 100 cfa for rice off the street when you can get a legit cheeseburger for 1800?  or pizza for 4000?

The pump project is officially done.  We have accounted for all of our funds.  For every one of the 20,000 that we spent.  And over 10,000 people in west Kara are drinking clean water now.

so, there are some pictures.  I dont think I have posted them before.  My apologies if I have.  The AC is scrambling my head.

D is trying out a new pump

Another new pump

Me supervising

Water!

I'm taking apart a new pump head

our installation team working

pump site

this is definitely "before" pic

D, Saye, and Kadar doing a health talk

 

the return of Nighan, or, the camels are coming!

Ive been on this major coconut/banana kick lately.  One can buy coconuts relatively easily in Kouka.  I buy chunks of the meat.  They are so good.  I hate shredded coconut, but there is something about the meat that I really like.  A faint fatty taste? I dont know. Many of the bananas here arent those phallic bland ones that one finds in supermarkets.  No, my favorite ones here are short, stubby, and sweet.  They have a lot of fiber and leave a film in your mouth, but they are really good.

Last week I went to a ceremony where the prefet nominated a Fulani chief as the first Fulani chief of the canton of Nampoch.  In other words, he's responsible for all of the Fulani in the canton.  It was pretty cool.  It was the first time I'd seen Fulani dances.  They use flutes.  And there is this one ritual where the men and boys go after each other with painted sticks.  When this started in the Fulani quarter on the outskirts of Nampoch, all of my neighbors went running out to watch. 

The Fulani are an example of the "melting pot" nature of Togo (actually, at the reception after the ceremony, the highschool director used that term when he was talking to me).  Anyway, traditionally the Fulani are nomads.  However, a while back, Petit's grandfather invited a Fulani family to settle on some land outside of Nampoch to oversee their cattle herds.  This was mutually beneficial to both Nampoch and the Fulani.  Nampoch got the wealth that cattle bring while the Fulani received a secure area to water and pasture their herds.  The other day, when I was out picking cotton, three different herds went through.  My friends were guessing where they were from and were calling out to the drovers in different languages.  One guy was from Niger I think.  Tis the season for nomadic herds, but I digress . . .

Anyway, Fulani.  They look different from Togolese.  Finer features, high cheekbones.  Tall, thin, and lanky usually.  The women braid their hair with beads instead of shaving it like many Togolese women.  The men, especially those from beyond Burkina, are fond of sport coats and Arabic scarves. Fulani make the best wagash-- local cheese.

I was awoken about 3 am the other night by growling.  From under my bed.  My torchlight revealed Tadji and Nighan standing in my bedroom growling at each other.  Upon further investigation I noticed a half-grown kitten cowering under my clothes shelves.  When I shined my light on him, he tried to climb up the wall.  I couldn't sleep with all the growling, so I ushered all the participents out of my bedroom.  Or tried to.  I had to get my broom to move the kitten.  He was so feral he was bouncing off the walls.  Literally.  Eventually, I directed him towards the door and he took off.  Nighan now spends her days hiding in my shelves.  I am not sure why.  I think maybe she is trying to get away from her kitten(s).

This is the time of year when nomads from Niger/Mali/Burkina ride their camels down south in search of forage and water. 

D and I came down to Lome yesterday.  She's taking the GRE tomorrow and we're working on closing out our pump project.  Somewhere south of Atakpame I realised that my skin started feeling greasy.  It hasnt stopped.  I hate the humidity down here.  But, last night we ate calimari, cheese pizza, and a cheeseburger/fries.  I got the burger, she got the fries.  That and draft beer almost makes up for the humidity.