...Back to September

Wed Oct 01, 04:00:30 PM
Upcoming, posts

In the future, my posts will start becoming more Topical since the days are starting to blend together more. Topics to look foreword to include such things as:
- Togo cuisine
- The theory of heat
- No reason to be shy about THAT!
- How to wash your clothes in over an hour and a half
- What's on your HEAD!
- I don't know what you just said preacher, but A-MEN
- The fast and the moto taxi
- Yao-gan (an exposition on learning an African language)
- Chickens, they DO cross roads

So, keep on checking' and I'll be attempting to put together some quality material

Anyway, the bottom line is that this is one nasty drug. Apparently 85% of people report little to no problem with it, the rest experience difficulties such as insomnia, vivid dreams, paranoia, and in one case a person claimed to be in a state of phychosis due to Mefloquin while he committed murder.

Anyway, since the day I started taking this stuff (3 weeks ago) I don't think that I have gotten anywhere near a full nights sleep. Once here in Africa, my insomnia could be due to new environment, food, temperature, anxiety etc... But it started the week before I came to Africa, after I took my first pill.

Well, that wouldn't be sooo bad, except that now I remember a few of my dreams every night. Now, I hate remembering my dreams, they are always very weird. What I particularly dislike about these dreams is that most of them are situated back in Canada, and it's a bit of a jolt to wake up back in Africa.

Now that wouldn't be sooo bad if it were for the fact that one night my dreams were so incredibly vivid that I couldn't tell them apart from reality. One night I woke up 4 times from these ridiculously vivid dreams which were situated in Canada, then clutched my covers in Africa when I woke up. I can understand the state of paranoia that sets in for some people because I didn't want to get out of bed that morning, I just wanted to stare at the ceiling and never fall asleep again!

The most recent pill I took (today) went down a little dry, as I didn't have quite enough water for a mouthful with me. Now, I take Tylenol all the time without even bothering with water and have never had a problem, but this little bad boy got lodged in my throat for about a minute on the way down and I could feel it eating away at my throat. It is now the end of the day, and my throat is ridiculously sore, I think I'm only going to have some tea for supper to sooth things a little.

So, OK, I’m a bit of a novelty here to others... well that's only partially true. I'm definitely a novelty to children. Children are fun, and find white skin truly interning! I'll talk more about children later...

No, the real reason that I am interesting to a large portion of the population is not because they want to exchange intellectual ideas or get to know me because of who I am, or even because I'm different, but its because they are poor and want out of the country.

Allow me to bring you through a conversation that I go through usually once a day, but sometimes three times a day.

Tim: "Hello!"
Togolese: "Hello! My name is Edem. Can I be your friend? Lets be friends OK?
Tim: Umm, OK.
Togolese: Where are you from?
Tim: Canada
Togolese: Canada, I love Canada! Now that we're friends you're going to send me to Canada!
Tim: Ummmm.... no.
Togolese: Why not?
Tim: I don't have the money or the power to do that.
Togolese: But I though all Canadians were very rich!

Seriously, I may have left out three or four intermediary sentences, but I can be almost guaranteed that within 5 minutes of any new conversation, I will first be asked to be their friend, and then asked to help them get out of Togo.

Togo is very poor, and very economically repressed. If a person is motivated enough to put their best foot forward to try and succeed (which many people are) their success is nearly impossible. The ONLY way to succeed is to get an education and use that education to get out of the country. I now understand why people are so motivated and excited about their scholastic studies here, it’s because it’s their tool to get out of Togo.

In their eyes, I am also a tool. They don’t understand that I can’t do anything for them. The above conversation has become so common and so predictable in nature, that I am becoming very uncomfortable with walking to work everyday. I don’t want any more "friends".

But at the same time... I know that they are just trying to get by, trying to grasp at whatever they think it takes to get out of their repressed situation.

Life here is a lot easier on days when I take a moto-taxi to work.

There are also those here who extremely motivated to see change and are doing everything that is in their power to do so. Community volunteer groups that focus on health, resource management and education are everywhere. The people that belong to these groups are very motivated. I'm sure that my supervisor would be able to immigrate into Canada if he so desired, but my guess is that he stays here because he truly believes in the work that he is doing with Vivre-Mieux and the other groups he is involved in.

For people taking part in these volunteer groups, every connection outside of the country makes a world of difference. One of the more interesting ways that I saw this in action was with the local Rotary club. The Kpalimé rotary club is connected to a rotary club in France who shipped over quite a few used computers. Kathleen and I are the only full time workers here at Vivre-Mieux. Guy, our supervisor is extremely happy to have us here and to get as much out of us as he possibly can!

Now I feel like I rambling, to much to think about all coming out at once probably in one entirely incoherent, convoluted journal entry. So I'll bring this to a close, but not without ending on a positive note! I really am excited about the work that I am doing here. I truly feel like I am going to be useful. My living situation is wonderful; I eat like a pig with nothing else to do. I bought some material on Saturday, brought the material to the tailor and got some new duds now. To you, they would look like pyjamas, but to the Togolese they are pretty stylin'! I bought some more material for another shirt that will be ready on Wednesday. I’m looking for some FTP space to use for photos, because I'm FINALLY starting to get some GOOD ones (lighting has been very non-ideal up to yesterday). That'll be a few days (If anybody knows where I can get some free FTP space lemmee know).

Anyway, Keep Smilin
-Tim

Thu Oct 09, 11:42:31 AM
New web site!
Helloooooooooooo
I now have a new website, www.berezny.com

Go there to get the latest digs, including for the first time ever, PHOTOS! Berezny.com will become the new hub for my updates eventually... and I'll post a confirmation on this blogger site when that happens.

Keep Smilin'
-Tim
P.S. Happy Thanksgiving!
P.S.S. Also check out the Vivre-Mieux website I made!
www.berezny.com/vivremieux/

We went up north about half an hour to his village. His village was quite a bit different from Kpalimé. It was probably about a third the size, and much less "modern" (if we could call Kpalimé modern). There were many more grass huts, and mud huts, and fewer paved roads. Once we arrived, some of family was sitting there.

One of the first things they did was
To show me where the "urinal" was. The urinal was for both men and women. It was a little area enclosed by tin walls, with stone pebbles on the ground. So, you went either on the wall or on the ground.

It was even possible to look over the top of the walls if you liked to take in the scenery while doing the business.

After all of the greetings, we walked down to where the ceremony was. The ceremony was held under a grass hut, and there was a picture of the dead man hanging on a post in the middle of the room. We were some of the first to arrive. I was sitting with some of the family. Whenever somebody new would arrive, everybody would go through a greeting process. The arrival would say something, then everybody would respond in unison, and then the arrival would say something else (this is all in Ewe, so I can't really say WHAT they said) and everybody would respond in unison. The greeting procedure is all very formalized. After that, the new arrival would shake everybody's hand. This would repeat over and over again.

Eventually, the family went through the hand shake line also one by one, and passed around to the rest of the room, and shook everybody's hand. After that, one of the family said something in Ewe for about 3 minutes. Then we left, and that was the entire ceremony!

There was no crying at the ceremony, no long speeches, it was quite short, and everybody was wearing smiles.

After that, we ate together. This, I gathered, was the most important aspect of the day. Everybody had travelled from their respective villages and countries (many people came from Ghana), and it was time to share a meal together, catch up, and enjoy one another. Everybody was speaking in Ewe, so I really have no idea what was being said, but it seemed generally cheerful. At one point, somebody was sent up into a tree to get me a pile of grapefruits to bring home with me! One person went up in the tree, and another stood below and caught the grapefruits as they came down.

The gathering ended at about 2:00, and we headed back home. During the gathering while we were eating, one African man treated me to a little speech that I will call the "riches of Africa", more on that tomorrow.

He asked me if I had experienced a funeral anything like this ever before, and asked what our burials were like. I have really only been to one funeral in my life, that was the funeral of my Grandmother. I told him that in our ceremony, a number of people (myself included) gave speeches in remembrance of how my Grandmother had affected our lives. After that, we also all ate together, just not quite as much food as we had had here in Africa. In fact, when together eating afterwards, it was indeed a celebration. I explained however, that we were celebrating that my Grandmother was in a better place, in heaven, and that as Christians we had hope and faith in our futures, even after death.

As I reflect further on the discussion that I had with this man, I realize even more so that there was nothing lacking in the in the Canadian funeral of my grandmother. It was in fact one of the most moving experiences I've had in my life. Of course, I can't speak for all funerals, as that is the only one I have attended.

I believe further the statement that the north doesn't have any of the "riches of Africa" must also be taken with a large grain of salt. It is quite a large generalization. I got to thinking, why is it that the north is, or is perceived, as being impersonal? One of the first indicators that came to mind was the high divorce rate, 50% in North America! So, I asked by African father if the divorce rate was high here. He said, very high. He attributed it to the difficult times in Togo, as well as the fact that women in Togo don't have the same rights as those in North America. A man can do pretty much whatever he pleases, and leave the woman behind if he sees her as a liability.

Hmm, that's curious, I thought. Now, this topic is getting rather complicated, and I fear that if I say any more, I will be entering the realm of pure speculation, so I will end this entry.

1. politics
2. money
3. religion

We'll skip the first one. Item number two, Money, it is difficult to tell if the Togolese talk much about this among themselves. I would imagine so, since they have none of it and see all of the money any power that exists elsewhere in the world on television. With me, they certainly have no shame. I have been walking down the street drinking a juice box, and somebody will ask if they can have the rest. People ask me to send them to Canada, or they will plead that they don't have any money for school and that I should give them some. When I say no, the response is always the same; why not? But, I have already talked about this.
The third item that we don't talk about in polite society is religion. One of the first things that I noticed in Togo was signs over doors that said "Jesus is Lord", or "Jesus saves" or similar slogans. This took me by surprise. Another thing that you will quickly have to reveal about yourself in any household is your religion. In Canada, you could probably go through an entire life career and some co-workers wouldn't know that your religion. In Togo, you can't be in a home for more than a day. It's as common a question as "so, where are you from?"

This isn't only from people who are devoutly religious, but also those who are unapologetically unreligious. I find this openness quite refreshing and invigorating. Spira, the head of the home that I stayed in for the first week asked me to pray for the meals, and immediately opened up to me about her faith. She later revealed that she believes that in marriage, it is impossible without God. When hard times come, if you have God as your bond, you will stay strong (see my comments on divorce in yesterdays entry). Her husband was gone for most of the week to make money for the family and returned on weekends! That is tough!

Another young man in the same household revealed to me that he was not a Christian because he saw too many hypocrites, too many people who did the deeds with their mouth but not with their actions. This seems to be a powerful reason for unbelief across all continents! How I pray that my life would never be (and HOPEFULLY has not been, although I have certainly let many people down) that reason for people to think that Christianity is a hoax.

...but sometimes I think they need to send some missionaries to Canada, to help show us what everyday faith really means...
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Anyway, it was a good time. The sun was SCORTCHING down on us, so much so that I had trouble just standing in left field. I think part of it was that I had eaten a huge serving of Fufu right before I left. In fact, I helped MAKE the Fufu this time. I took some video of it and hope to get that up on the webpage sometime soon. For now, a picture will have to do. To make Fufu you use big "pilons" and mach very aggresively into a large wooden bowl. It really takes a lot of work! Fufu is the food of the Kpalimé region. The interesting thing about Fufu is that it has it's own "music", which is the sound of two pilons mashing Yams. It is often heard while walking though the village and off in the distance before supper.

After the baseball game I was invited in for supper and a prayer meeting. That was really nice. It was great to see the local missionnaries holding each other up in prayer. I suppose the center for the blind requires some explanation, it is a place where children come from all over Kpalime to stay and learn. Not only do they get schooling, but they get training in some practical skills that can help them to make a living afterwards; simple things like making chalk and bread. And through all that there are plenty of oppurtunities to share and teach about Christ. I just love the principle of the ministry, that they are right in there helping needy blind children.

The people working there are very nice, very often I will be walking somewhere and one of them will be driving by, spot me and stop to invite me to something. Yesterday I heard thunder when I was at work, and you have to understand that when there is the slightest hint of rain, it is sometimes just minutes before a full torrential downpour begins. It was the end of the day and was going to be dark in 10 minutes so I bolted out of work as fast as possible and made it to the road hoping that the moto-taxi's hadn't just packed it in due to the Inevitability of a storm. I was standing on the side of the road praying for a ride, when along come somebody from the center of the blind to give me ride in their car back to my home! One Sunday they invited me out to a local restaurant and we has shishkabobs.

The center for the blind is associated with a hospital that is up north of Kpalimé. It is a missionary hospital, and is apprently the best one in the country. They are struggling right now because their principal surgeon just found out that his wife is very ill (at least I think that's it... i'll have to double check), and so they have to return to the US, and so far there is nobody to replace him.

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Tuesday October 21
Kathleen Fodrek's journal

This picture is us in what we call our "Pyjamas". However, this is totally normal attire in Togo, and actually considered quite dressy! (I wore this green outfit to a funeral once).

So, one particular afternoon Kathleen and I are walking out in the village for lunch I think. As we were coming back, Kathleen really wanted to get something to drink. You get any kind of drink at a bar, whether you want a coke a fruit drink or a beer. On the way back there was the "bar Bacula", a bar that she has bought drinks at before. For the past week, construction workers have been putting down a walkway over a sewer between the road and the restaurant. Noting that the cement was still wet I said “make sure you don’t step in that!” As if it was a command, her next step was right into the cement, at which point it registered in her head exactly what I meant by “don’t step in that”. There is now a nice advertisement for Burkenstocks there.

The same day, I was hungry and decided to buy a roasted banana from somebody on the side of the road. He wanted to sell me 4 for 100£, but I only wanted one for 25£, so he gave me half a banana. Now, the banana was on the grill, so I wasn’t too worried about the health implications, but the he took it off with his fingers, and rolled it in a piece of ripped out notepad paper that had various notes scribbled on it and handed it to me! I reluctantly took it, took a bite of the section not touched by his fingers or the notepad paper, took a picture, and tossed the rest. By the way, roasted bananas aren’t very tasty.

Keep Smilin’
-Tim

The feeling of "Harsh Reality", hit me hard again this weekend. The reason for this was that I consciously decided to take down some of my barriers, and let people I met take me on a tour of the mountains. I met them about three weeks ago, and they seemed genuinely friendly and sincere. When we left, I paid for the taxi ride of course, which was much more expensive than I expected. Then they took my on a walk through the path on the mountains. I had been under the impression that we were looking for some humungous set of waterfalls, but after walking for an hour and a half, we arrived at a little village, then turned around and walked the same distance back. They had not planned the tour program very well, but whatever, I was willing to look over that. When we get back to my place, as I was saying goodbye, one of the guys asked me to give him some money for lunch. This made me very uncomfortable, but since they were my tour guides, I gave them some money. What bothers me is that this was done under the guise of friendship, and I had put my trust in them, but they turned out to be just the same as everybody else… trying to get something from me. I felt betrayed, and like I will never be able to make a real friend here.

WHY are they trying to get something from me? That’s easy, the reasons are as follows, in the same importance as that which they appear:

1. I’m white.
2. I’m male.
3. I’m Canadian.
4. I’m educated.

What bothers me about this is that I have absolutely no control over 1,2, and 3, and 4 is only partially due to personal determination and perseverance, as well as largely due to items 1-3. In other words;

I have power not because I earned it or deserved it, but because I inherited it. Even if I did deserve power (which I may or may not), that would not make any difference because I have it anyway. Here, I am not who I am, I am who I am perceived to be.

This led me to think about how my relations work in other places. In Belleville I am relatively well known, I can be pretty sure that if I go out, I will run into somebody that I have respectable acquaintances with. Hopefully, it is because I have earned that friendship, or if I have not earned it, it is out of their kindness. In Waterloo, I became anonymous, a number. It became clear to me that unless I performed, I could get through my education without even being recognized by 80% of my profs. I thought that that bothered me. No, what really bothers me is having tremendous amounts of undue respect.

This creates logistical problems with my work. I will be providing a skill to people that can help them out of their economic difficulty, I can offer them a path to success. But I am only one person with limited time and resources. How do I select the people that will receive training from me? Do I give it to those who are in the most need? Do I tell people who walk up to me on the street and tell me their story about running out of money and not longer being able to attend school?

No, no I do not. I do not because I can not trust them.

This makes me feel terrible. All of a sudden I am this judge, out to choose whom I will and will not bestow success upon. My mind drifts to the story of the good Samaritan. A man is robbed and beaten and left on the road to die. To fellow countrymen (including a Priest) walk by and don’t offer any help. A Samaritan (i.e. an “enemy”) takes him and clothes him and feeds him. The principle of course is “do unto your neighbour as you would have them do unto you”, and the story is Jesus’ response to the disciples question “who is my neighbour?”

Who is my neighbour? This question plagues me.

The story of the good Samaritan is easy to deal with in Canada, when few people are in this kind of need, and when they are, they hide it in shame so we walk past with an ignorant eye. Here, the desolate man is everybody that I pass on the street, everyday.

But if I were to give to the man, of my time, my money, my energy, then I would be demanded to do so for everybody, and that I cannot do.

Do I have power, Yes. Do I have power for the reasons that they perceive… maybe. Can I help people… Yes. Can I be the good Samaritan? No.

The tragedy of the commons. If I helped one, I would have to help all, and thus would not be able to accomplish the task for which I have been sent.

No, I must hold myself to do the task that I have been sent here for, I must choose my associates with great care, and accept that I am a little man in a big world. I must hope that by saying “no” to the individual, I am being a good Samaritan, because I can then accomplish the “greater good”. (But then again, maybe that’s what the priest passing on the road was thinking also!). Again, I am a judge.

The bright side to this is that my host family is wonderful, and way more than I could ever have asked for. I can talk and laugh with them openly about I find difficult and funny in Africa. They listen sympathetically and offer useful insights when they can. They are fantastic people. Also, my co-workers here are great. These people are a source of refuge for me.

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French Toast
Here, in Kpalimé I have been introduced to a lot of new foods, a lot of which are quite tasty! The Togolese are quite proud of their local, Togolese food, and ask me frequently what “Canadian Food” is like.

Now, just stop for a moment and try to figure that out. How do you define “Canadian” food? … go ahead… think about it a little bit… it’s very difficult to do! So, they have been asking me to make something Canadian so finally I said OK, I’ll make French toast!

First of all, I don’t really know HOW to make French toast. I’ve made it maybe once, and I *thought* all there was to it was to put on the frying pan, beat some eggs and milk, drops the bread in the eggs, and fry ‘er up!

I know what you’re thinking, “that is all you do!”

So, I wake up early in the morning, and Amedjie and Christine (my African Parents) have all of the ingredients ready and are excited to try Canadian Cuisine. I beat up 6 eggs, add some milk, and then make my first mistake, I SOAKED the bread that I had sliced way to thick in the eggs. Oh, and I added too much milk to the eggs so the mix was really runny. Then, I put two pieces of soaked bread into a tiny frying pan that is heated by fire, not an element (i.e. the heat is not so well distributed across the pan). I am having a lot of difficulty getting the nice golden brownness that my Mom always seems to pull off with ease, it’s more brown over in one corner and kind of wet everywhere else.

So after cooking the first two like this, I set them on the table, and Amedjie cooks the next 3, and we figured out to do it one at a time. I tried to insist on the importance of eating the French toast as SOON as it’s ready, while it’s still hot, but they hung around in the kitchen until everything was cooked.

So we sat down to eat, and they enjoyed it! … we didn’t have any syrup of any kind, just butter… so I will be searching for some kind of substitute, so it was a little dry…although it wasn’t dry. The outside was (mostly) toasted, and the middle was very much with wet egg-bread. I found it a little difficult to pack it all down, and feel a little woozy in my stomach from it. Go figure it’s not the African food, but the Canadian food that gives me trouble… :P

So NEXT time, thinner bread, and just wet the faces of the bread. OK, lesson learned. If you have anymore tips, sent them to how_to_cook_french_toast@berezny.com and I would welcome the advice. I want to make pancakes too, but have absolutely NO clue how to do it with mix. If you have any other ideas about Canadian foods, let me know! (And Bobi, I’m afraid I don’t quite yet have the confidence to make Perogies, although I would love to do it! If I ever come again I’ll have to make sure I’m a pro before I arrive). What I wouldn’t give for some Maple Syrup! If there’s one thing that is uniquely Canadian, that is it.

View from the roof
I went up on the roof the other day, and since the clounds were particularly nifty that day I decided to take a series of photos going all around the roof of the hotel, and then I "stitched" them together into one mega panorama shot. Right Click on the thumbnail and select "save target" below to download the full picture (If you just click on it it will bring you a picture that will only fit in your explorer window, but the photo is much wider than that, so you need to download it. Then you'll STILL need to zoom in with whatever JPG viewer you use). It's quite large so give it some time to download! I head up to the roof on a regular basis and though it would be neat if I could show you the same view of Kpalimé that I get every day.

Right click here to save the enlargment

Off to Lomé to get computer parts...
Two days ago my supervisor took me to Lomé to buy a video capture card from somebody who had come down form France. On the way there and back we talked about computers and business and Vivre-Mieux, and I got a much clearer picture of exactly what it is I am going to be doing for the remainder of my term here and why. I will post a complete report of upcoming work and the justifications for it sometime in the near future.

Those crazy Frenchmen
Yesterday, an African on the street that I met introduced me to a Frenchman named “Michelle”. He’s working with forestation preservation here, and interesting guy. He hangs out here for 1 month, then goes back to France to looks for funding for 3, and has done this cycle for 4 years. He left back for France yesterday with his first set of new African Digs. He was going to introduce me to this Belgian guy who does all kind of computer stuff here in Togo but I wasn’t back from Lomé early enough to catch up with him. The Belgian has a video projector, so hopefully I can find a way to watch some movies! The case on the left is a small collection of butterflys that can be found in the nearby mountains. I have yet to see the butterflys though...

Anyway, that’s my last few days in a nutshell.
Keep Smilin’

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The evening that I was there for the prayer meeting, being the “newbie” they felt it was necessary to play some games with me! So, we played “Psychiatrist”. In this game, I was the psychiatrist, and they were all patients, with a “problem”. So, I had to figure out what that problem was by asking them simple questions. I would ask one of the guys if they had hairy legs, he would say no, then one of the girls would say that their shirt was some color that totally didn’t represent reality. Then somebody would say “psychiatrist” and they would all switch places, and all of their answer would change. Every now and then I would ask “do you use boxors or briefs” or some nutty question like that and they would all laugh what seemed like a disproportionate amount to it actual funniness! This went on for about 20 minutes f me being totally perplexed, until I figured out that a persons answered for whatever was the case for the person to their RIGHT. So, if I asked somebody if they were wearing shorts, the would tell me whatever was the case for the person on the right. When I had asked “boxers or briefs”, I HAD BEEN THE PERSON ON THE RIGHT!

How cute. :P

Little did they know that I have a sack full of these little trick games myself! So I snagged them with the classic “A record skipped and a man died” mystery game. If you know me, you’ve probably played this. So, now I had THEM guessing for a good half hour and it was lots of fun.

Next time I’ll punish them with the “I’m going on a camping trip” game, the details of which I won’t reveal now for fear that they will discover this site!

After this we did a human pyramid and took a picture. Then I went and tried to fix the father’s laptop, with unknown success at the moment. All in all, it was a good day.

Back to food...
I also received some responses to my plea for help with Canadian cuisine. Cinnamin and brown sugar and bannanas seem to be the consensus all around. They have not heard of brown sugar here (or brown bread for that matter)! Good old Ian came up with a list of food ‘a-la-Canadiana’ for me. My response to each suggestion is posted below also.

Keep Smilin’
-Tim
P.S. I hear the music of a chicken being “defeathered” outside my window right now.

On to November...