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...

The Mask

Like every normal couple, every few months Mr. Kate and I engage in a full-on Prank War. Our goal is to scare or prank the other so badly that the offended partner will call a truce for fear of additional retribution. Often these tricks include buckets of water being dumped on each other, Saran wrap over door frames or toilet bowls and scaring each other in the shower.

A normal, healthy relationship. 

After a good job scaring Mr. Kate in the gym several weeks ago, I knew I was doomed and needed to start planning for an appropriate scare comeback. But it was time to up the ante...

Enter Amazon.com, where a girl can get almost anything her little, living-in-Africa heart desires. Even a scary old man face. With a few short clicks, and a refundable payment of 14.99, my pre-emptive revenge plot was underway. 

Slightly more scary than my face.

In anticipation of the big scare, I wrapped the mask in a towel and packed it at the bottom of our suitcase for our trip to Ghana the following weekend. And while he still hadn't retaliated against my scare, I knew I had to act quickly, even if it meant making an early strike. So I plotted. We would meet our friends in Accra and I would plan my attack a few days later, at just the right time, leading Mr. Kate to embarrass himself in front of our friends with his girlish shrieks.

A few days into our trip, I woke up early and took a warm shower before our drive to the next destination. As I exited one of the shared shower-rooms, the corner of my eye caught something (or someone) huddled in the door frame next to mine. I looked down and screamed, waking the entire hotel. Mr. Kate had found the mask hidden in the suitcase and decided to beat me at my own game. 

After sending our friends back to their rooms and reassuring the hotel staff that Mr. Kate was not trying to kill me, we finally got back to our room, where I scolded Mr. Kate profusely and proposed a truce. Now that he had the mask, I was never going to win.

After the truce we had a scary mask and nothing to do with it, so naturally, we found a few good ways to put it to good use.

We left a surprise for people who came into our hotel room during the day.

We drove around wearing the mask.

...and photographed people's reactions.

When we arrived in small villages and our car was surrounded by children, we made sure someone wearing the mask exited first:

I've never seen babies run so fast or mommas laugh so hard.

Definitely the best 14.99 I've ever spent.

Oppan Ghana Style!

Last week, we met up with our friends Jake, Corey, and Celina, who had flown in from Uganda and the US to have an awesome week filled with adventures and wine! Our poor friend Gavin was supposed to join us, but his dog literally ate his passport. I'm sorry I made your wife take that dog home.

We drove across the border and met up with our friends in Ghana. Ghana proved to be a bizarre country in which every cab was emblazoned with words of "enlightenment" (The Lord is my Sherperd [sic], My body is covered with the blood of Christ, I come with Jesus); every store had been named by a not-too-witty zealot (God is Great All The Time Fashion Shop, The Dependable God Plumbing Shop, God-Power Fridge Doctors); and random conversations stared with "Hi. I'm a good Christian. Give me 10 cedi." Um, no.

During our trip we visited the coffin makers, who will make you a custom coffin (fish, okra, car, hammer, blow dryer, etc.) when it's your time:

They quickly ushered us out when I tried to get into the one shaped like a giant Hershey's bar.

We visited Cape Coast, where we saw the old castle built by the British for the slave trade:

We visited several National Parks, where we did canopy walks, saw birds & mammals, angrily tore down snares and animal traps put up by poachers, and tirelessly sought out the last of a critically endangered monkey species known as the White-naped Mangabey (which, sadly, we never saw).

We stayed in hotels that neighbored Pentecostal Churches that woke you up at 5 am with the screams of women and the strange sounds of men speaking in tongues, yet still offered banana-flavored condoms "Anytime! Day or Night!" We stayed in a hotel that used to be a boat. And we stayed in a small residence/hotel/cocoa farm called Frenchman's Farm on the the border of Cote D'Ivoire, which was absolutely delightful.

We had an awesome trip and I am ecstatic to know that I, too, can one day be buried in a custom coffin shaped as a wine bottle, surrounded by banana condoms, and bid farewell by people speaking in tongues. What more could a girl want?

Gained in Translation

Although there may be other upcoming (and awesome!) things on the horizon job-wise, I am currently still working with my good friends Fofo and Kossi in the mailroom-- and we are having a great time!

Us, having a great time.

Recently, an email was sent out offering classes for anyone who would like to improve their English skills, which is very useful for anyone who wants to get ahead in the embassy. Since there were only 10 spots available, and they are super-motivated, both guys jumped on the opportunity and immediately signed up. We're talking 30 seconds-- the HR guy called me, impressed.

Since then, the mailroom has been a center of English learning-- much to the chagrin of it's only non-fluent, trying-to-improve-her-French speaker. Lessons such as "what you are saying is not a word" and "shit is not the same as sheet" are all too common.

In order to make it even more fun, I've been introducing sayings, rhymes and songs. When Fofo was having a hard time remembering the word "roof" I taught him the words to "The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire." Don't judge, it's catchy. It worked well! Although I did have a hard time explaining why to avoid the words after the chorus, and coming up with a logical response to why no one wanted to put the "roof fire" out. 

When I was nervous before an interview the other day I mentioned that I had butterflies in my belly. After getting past the word belly, they asked me if I was still a vegetarian, since it didn't seem too vegetarian-like to be eating butterflies. How else would they get in there?

And my favorite additions to the mailroom repertoire so far have been: "See you later, Alligator!" & "After a while, Crocodile!" When I first introduced this saying I had to reiterate a few times that you can't just yell these phrases at everybody, all the time. This was in response to the several times I came across Kossi yelling: "After a while, Crocodile!" to everyone he passed in the hallway.

After that, we were good for a few days, until one day Fofo came to me with a very poignant question. "Madame, I know this response means I will see you in a little while, but who is Croco, and why does he die every time someone leaves?

Dashing every hope I ever had of being an English teacher (none) and potentially losing all credibility I had as a Public Health worker (not much), I told him Croco ate too much dog and got a horrible disease...

Cultural Exchange

When I got home from work yesterday my nanny was sweeping the floor. We greeted each other* and then I went in the next room to set down my bag. When I walked back into the living room I found her slamming the broom on the ground trying to kill something.

"What is that?" I asked, thinking it was a spider who had found his way inside the house.

"Un lezard" she responded as she again lifted her broom for another powerful blow against the small gecko that was writhing on the floor. "I must kill it" she told me, matter-of-factly.

"No! Please don't kill him!" I pleaded with her, grabbing the broom. They eat the insects, I explained. They are good! They can stay!

No, no, you don't understand, she explained to me. They are bad luck. They get into your room and make you sleep bad! They curse you! Everyone knows this! DUH, Kate.

Evil Gecko

"Please, next time, just let me know and I can at least take him outside and let him go!" I pleaded with her. She looked at me, horrified by the suggestion.

Eventually, she consented and we decided to be a non-"lezard" killing household, but during the course of our conversation, the small gecko had slipped away from the crazed, broom-killing nanny and disappeared.

"Now, look!" She yelled, exasperated. "It has disappeared! He will go into your room! Now you will have nightmares until he is dead! And it's not my fault!" With the final sentence she threw her hands up in the air and went into the next room, hunting for the injured gecko and distraught that I had let this happen.

It was a wonderful cultural exchange. Now I know.

*screams and hugs and happiness.

Revenge of the Tsetse Fly

Since we left DC, we have been looking forward to a trip to Uganda to meet up with our wonderful Tucson friends, Jake and Corey. The last time we saw each other was a week before we left the US at a Thankschristmasgoingaway family and friend reunion. This was the end result:

Hardcore mistletoe hunters.

Jake and Corey left for Africa within weeks of us. Corey, who is the worlds most awesome primatologist, received a job offer to work for the Simliki Chimpanzee Project in the western part of Uganda. Jake came along to help out as her assistant. The camp/research station is set up on the Congo-Uganda border and aims to both gather genetic observational and behavioral data and materials (read: feces) to gain a better understanding of the Semliki chimps and in turn, a possible glimpse into the past.

Most chimps are found in closed canopy rainforests, but this particular group of chimps use a much drier mosiac of riverine forest, woodland and savanna habitats-- very much like that of our earliest homonid ancestors, Australopithecines. The behavior of these chimps, along with their anatomy and physiology, are influenced and shaped by this dry habitat and differ somewhat from "normal" chimps. These responses to their environment are presumably comparable to those of earlier humans under similar conditions, making Semilki chimps of particular interest to geneticists, paleontologists and primatologists, like Corey.

(Don't worry, those pangs of jealousy you feel when you read about Corey's awesomeness are normal and expected.)

The chimp camp is located 6 hours away from Uganda's capital, at the base of an escarpment which is surrounded by savanna, grasslands and multiple rivers and streams. Cape buffalo, baboons, Vervet monkeys and Kob accompanied by their large harems can be seen grazing and playing as you drive along the bumpy dirt road. 

Uganda

To get to the camp, you take a sudden right off the dirt road, unto an unmarked foot-path and into the shoulder-high grasses, at which point your entire body tenses, hoping you don't get stuck in the black sticky mud, break down or worst of all, come face to face with an angry buffalo. The week prior, during a rain storm Corey and Jake found a log in the middle of the path that had not been there before. As they descended from the car to try and move it from the path, they quickly realized it was a crocodile. They quickly got back in the car and waited for it to pass.

Tsetse flies, trying to eat us.

As we started into the grassland path, I heard an incessant tapping on the roof of the car. I looked at the windshield, sure that it was raining, and on the verge of losing it because I didn't want to get stuck in a big, muddy, crocodiley mess. There was no rain. I looked out my passenger window and saw instead a large swarm of tsetse flies. They surrounded our car and repetitively slammed into us, hoping to get inside and have a nice tsetse fly dinner.



Finally we drove out of the grassland and up to the clearing of Similiki camp. Jake and Corey ran up to us and as Corey embraced us, Jake took a fly swatter to the car and killed as many tsetse flies as he could, saving us from the pending doom of the tsetse attack.

Finally, Jake successfully exterminated the majority of the flies and ran over to greet us, swatter in hand. After giving us a little love, he immediately broke several branches off the nearest tree and showed us how to use them as swatters to keep the tsetse flies off our backs. Our adventure had begun!

Every day we woke up early and hiked around, swatting the flies and looking for chimps or evidence of a recent chimp visit. At noon, we stopped under a fig tree to rest for awhile, quietly eat some lunch and hope that the chimps would get the urge to eat some figs at that particular tree and come hang out. We hiked up, down and along the escarpment, sludged through rivers, and the clumsiest one of us (me) slipped and fell in the mud multiple times. Along the way we encountered snakes, frogs, monkeys and unfortunately, on a daily basis, evidence of poachers.

Top left: Chimp print!; Bottom left: Corey and Mich chimp tracking;
Right: Corey fighting some dung beetles for a sample.

In the afternoons each couple took turns going to the open shower. Two-person, combined-effort showers were necessary at chimp camp-- one person showered while the other stood guard with a fly swatter, chasing the tsetse flies and their voracious appetites away.

In the evenings we hung out in the dining area, drinking from a large box of wine, playing cards and catching up. The boys stayed on edge all night, binoculars and spotlights close by, ready to run out into the tall grass to investigate each and every small noise. The girls were also on edge, knowing that in all likelyhood there were some hungry carnivores lurking in the grass nearby, just waiting for a noise to send the boys running toward them.

The last night of our trip, we sat down for dinner and discussed the day's events. Although we had not found any chimps, we found ourselves with several minor injuries. I had received a large thorn embedded in the side of my foot and multiple tsetse fly bites. Corey found herself with a few new mosquito bites and a close encounter with a night-adder. Jake had discovered a caterpillar on his face and was hoping the area wouldn't swell. Mr. Kate had no injuries. In fact, he bragged, he hadn't been bitten once by a tsetse fly-- or any other insect on this trip!

The next morning, we took our last shower. Unfortunately right as Mr. Kate soaped up his hair and face, a tsetse fly slipped by me and bit Mr. Kate right between the eyebrows, causing him to wail and jump around, violently thrashing and hoping to hit the offending tsetse fly. Everyone came running towards the shower, worried Mr. Kate had found a snake. When they got near, they heard my laughter and knew immediately what had happened.

They stood outside the shower and as we exited, I got a round of high fives and pats on the back. Although I accepted them, I still swear it was an accident. A wonderful, lovely, karmic accident.

See you guys soon!!