C'é Monsieur Yovo Pour Toi!

Touching down on the tarmac, the reality of the situation hit home...orientation in Philly hadn't done it, nor the layover in Paris (including trying to figrue out how to describe a solar charger in French to curious security guards). For the first time really, I came to see what I had gotten myself into--and I froze. Sitting in the middle seat of a giant Airbus, trying to make out what lie outside, I couldn't move...

When I finally got my wits about me and exited the plane down a creeky staircase I emerged at an aiport with just one plane--ours--and proceeded into a shuttle with a Togolese driver sporting a suregeons mask. At that time, the itch in my throat I had picked up at home seemed certain to be swine flu. I was a goner, I knew it.

The shuttle roared to life and drove us approximately 50 yards to the terninal...the absurdity of the 5 second ride calmed my nerves. The rest of my unease soon came to be put to rest as well when I was shuffled into a room inside the terminal by an unknown American. In the sanctuary of that cranped roon, with the 30 or so other trainees I collected myself and prepared for the rest of my long journey.


Two weeks in I can't say that I've been cool and collected the entire time (damn you malaria pill-induced dreams), but I can say that I have not come to regret my decision to come here. Togo is a delightful place, though not one that I feel I can describe readily quite yet.

I live in a small town called Gbatopé, outside of Tsevié where other trainees in Girls empowerment live and where I currently am writing this). Gbatopé is an agricultural based town of about 5,000, with no electricity besides for the generators at two bars that power cold beers and LOUD reggae and American hip-hop (prorities, priorities). My days here commence with the rooster calls outside my window, followed by a full day of French lessons and agroforestry/natural resources classes. We have and experimental garden where we work everyday and look over our own personal beds of vegetables.

My trainers are great, and incredibly intelligent at what they do. The family that I stay with is also wonderful. I have a host brother of 14 and a slew of cousins who live near me. My host father is a farmer and the chief's brother--which is sort of a bid deal. My host mother is delightful and force feeds me three times a day and gives me a 'snack' of three oranges or a bushel of bananas every day.

Those of you who thought I'd be starving here will have to wait until I get to post for that premonition to come true, I'm afraid.

Unfortunately I'm out of time, but now that I know of a internet cafe with actual internet I'll be sure to update sometime soon!

Love you all, Jonathan...