The Togolese wear winter jackets. Some are lined or covered in fur. Some are filled with down. Some are just poofy. I bought powdered milk the other day from a man who was wearing a big, poofy, brown, winter jacket. People wear them everywhere. And from what I can see, the men love to wear the furry ones.
Cellphones
One of my homologues carries four cellphones. When I asked why, he said, “One is for Togocel (a service provider), one is for Moov (another service provider), one is just for texting, and the other is for backup.”
I tease him when he doesn’t know which one to use or when he can’t find a phone number for me. He actually said, “I know I have it; I just don’t know where it is.” And that was it. Technology.
Interesting to note that the Togolese skipped the landline concept. Phone technology reached here in the form of the cellphone.
Internet
Internet is a fairly new technology to Togo. It’s been here for about a year now. And wireless. And expensive.
Call to prayer
The Muslim’s call to prayer occurs every day. The calls are at 4:30 am, 1:00 pm, 3:00 pm, 6:00 pm, and 7:00 pm. There is a designated individual (male only) who “sings” the call. The following is what I hear, five times a day, on the vast quantity of mosques throughout the city (think: multi-stereo), all using very loud megaphones:
Allahou Akbar (God is great)
Achahadou alla ilaha ilala (I trust there is only one God)
Achahadou an’na Mohamada Massou loulah (I also trust that Mohammed is a messenger of God)
Haya alla-salat (It is time to pray)
Haya all falah (It is time to pray)
Allahou Akbar (God is great)
Lailaha ilalallah (There is only one God)
The call lasts for as long as the designated singer wishes and its good when he can hold one syllable for a long time. Some calls last a long time (I’ve heard up to 30 minutes or longer).
When I first heard “Haya alla-salat” (it is repeated numerous times), it sounded as if the singer was saying to me, “Ohhhhh yaaaaah you-are-fat!” and I wondered how he knew.
People must pray those five times during the day (each prayer is unique) and if for some reason he is unable to pray at the designated time, he can “make up” the prayer at the next time. However, a person cannot pray all five prayers first thing in the morning and be done for the day. Nor can he pray all five prayers at the end of the day (unless it is an exception, not the rule).
Husbands prefer that their wives pray at home to prevent temptation. There is a separate room in the mosque for women and it’s off to the side and has its own entrance.
New kids on the block
The 22 new PC trainees (GEE and NRM) will be sworn in on November 17 in Lomé.
Hair
I am happy to report that I can put my hair in a ponytail.
The Togolese women are fascinated with my hair and some are so bold as to touch my hair, running their fingers through it. The other day, a girl at the marché couldn’t keep her hands off of me until I finally told her to stop. I was polite at first, but then it was just a little too weird. She wanted me to “fix” it so it would look like hers. I didn’t know how to explain in French that that was never going to happen.
(Disclaimer: the following is my personal perception so don’t read further if you will get all antsy. You’ve been warned.)
“Ca va aller” et “Du courage”
“It will go” and “Be courageous”.
I am told time and time again to have patience or that things will change, little by little (“un peu un peu” or “petite et petite”). This is in response to well, everything that I want to “make better”.
I feel the Togolese, by nature or by having learned, believe that one must (can only?) have hope to carry them through each day. So when in despair the response is “ca va aller” or “du courage”. Not a bad thing, to have hope. Heck, I am the cover girl of hope. I have more hope and optimism that to a point, is detrimental.
But here, it just feels too casual, so easy, a platitude, a way out, a “that’s what it is” kind of thing, a shoulder shrug. Not giving up; just hang on to hope; things will get better, maybe.
Complacency? We can only surrender, yield, concede, abandon, relinquish, and submit to our situation because we have no control over anything. So we hope.
It’s no wonder no one complains or says anything when the buses break down, the mail is “lost”, roads are such the state they are in, there are no latrines, there are no means to medical help (and they wouldn’t have the money to pay for it even if it was), teachers are not paid, and on and on. These people never make a fuss. Who would you talk to if you did have a complaint? And if they dare do, well, maybe something will be done but it depends on their religion, who they know, where they live, etc. They don’t feel they have a right? They don’t feel it will make a difference, so why bother?
There is no customer service counter here.
I do have a feeling, however, that the “younger generation” are on to something. They are taking a stand. They want a change. It’s a small, small stir in the air. If you listen very carefully, you might hear it. There has been a protest here and there. There has been a threat of a strike by the teachers. This is more than hope. It’s doing something. In them, I have hope.
By the way, did you know that the ONLY United States presence in Togo is the Peace Corps (other than the Embassy)? Yep. Us. We’re it. Me. Yet, all the countries that surround us have a U.S. presence. Why is that?
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