The Typo

Recently, I had an interview for the Community Liaison Officer (CLO) position at the embassy. While it wasn't what I was expecting to do while I was here in Togo, it seemed to be a fun job, it would look better on my resume than my current job, and since it was part-time, it would allow me the flexibility to take short-term contract jobs with an international organization here in Lome (more on that later-- cross your fingers for me!). I dressed up fancy for the day, donning slacks and a button-down shirt, a slight deviation from the khakis I wear to move stuff around in the mailroom, and feigned ignorance when grilled by my co-workers about my "professional" appearance. Me? Never!

After the interview, which went quite well, I returned to my desk, where I got busy designing an invitation for a surprise going-away party for one of our friends. I got busy cutting and pasting and eventually sent out a pretty invitation to inform people that we were gonna get our party on!!

Moments after hitting the send button, Mr. Kate called me. There was a big, fat typo right in the middle of my invitation! I had misspelled surprise, a fourth grade spelling word, in the invitation. The invitation that had gone out to multiple members of the international expat community, including people who interviewed me, just hours after I had met with them to prove that I was good with community outreach and came across as professional. NAILED IT! 

A few days later, we had the party and it was great. During the party my supervisor came over to me, complimented me on my mustache and informed me that he was so impressed by my ability to make lip and word-bubble cut-outs, that he was going to hire me again, this time as the CLO. He must not have seen the typo.

We celebrated into the wee hours. By Monday morning, word had gotten out about my new job and as I walked past the CLO office I found this taped to the door:

2 things:
1) I'm really happy that someone else is as excited as I am!
2) Do I need to be self conscious about my jowls?

Festival du Sinkaring

I was going through my pictures the other day and came across some that we took at a festival shortly after we arrived in the Togo that I never got the chance to blog about!

The week we arrived in Togo we were invited to the Festival du Sinkaring in the north of the country. It was a 8-9 hour drive so we set out early one Friday and stayed the night in Kara. At the festival, which began the following morning, we were introduced to the community leaders and invited for breakfast chez eux. When we arrived, around 8 am, we were astonished to find what breakfast consisted of:

Bean beignets, champagne & scotch.
Breakfast of champions.

After eating (and, ahem, drinking), we toured the nearby village, notably meeting the 12 (!) mothers of our host, and visiting the animal sacrifice corner.

 

When you wish upon a skull...

From there we went towards the festival grounds where we prepared to watch the big event. The festival takes place every year right as the local harvest begins. Each village brings their local specialties to share with the other villages, and the warriors of the village dance and perform, often surrounded or followed by the women and the children.

Notice the line of stuff laid across the field to be sacrificed.

Our gourds of millet beer, coupled with more bean beignets, kept us full and happy!

At the end of the day, we went for a late lunch with a few of the local leaders and organizers, but everyone had been through so many beignets and gourds of millet beer that lunch didn't last long. It was a wonderful experience and I wish I hadn't forgotten to blog about it until now, because I know I'm not doing it justice! We'll just have to go again next year...