September 5: Working and eating in Kara
It was a beautiful sunny morning when the rooster started crowing at 6:30. Mary said that didn’t wake her up, but the morning call to prayer at the local mosque did.
We hit the road at 8:00 am for SIL. The first seminar went okay, but the second one proved time consuming and challenging. Half an hour into the lunch break some teachers were still working on the task I needed to check.
First fou-fou
Jacques, Jean and I went to the restaurant where Jacques had waited while Jean and I walked around the market. Jacques had enjoyed the fou fou there, and wanted some more. I of course had never had fou fou, but was interested in learning what it was. It turned out to be mashed cassava, but pounded to a thicker consistency than mashed potatoes. I was instructed to pull a piece of it off with my hands and dip it in a delicious tomato-and-hot pepper sauce. There was also goat meat served in the sauce. I’d never seen goat skin, but it was so dark and rubbery looking I didn’t eat it.
Before we ate, we poured water over our hands over a plastic bowl on the middle of the table. After we ate, we did this again. I noticed on the table there was also a small blue square that looked like chalk for a pool stick. Jean told me it was soap. I used it and have to say it felt like chalk for a pool stick, too. But it did the job.
As we ate, many children came around the tables selling cheap odds and ends—Q-tips (cotton swabs), shoe polish, flashlights, etc. We ignored them, or Jean told them to go away. One kid with bundles of short, thick sticks caught my eye. I asked John if they were firestarters. However, he replied that villagers use the sticks to clean their teeth. I was stunned. Jacques said, “I told you at the airport you would see some strange things here.”
I decided I had to buy these sticks, just to remember the story. I asked the young boy, “how much”? I heard, “cinquante cent francs”. I knew “cinq” meant “five” and “cent” meant “hundred”. So I concluded that this must have meant “500 francs” ($1). I gave him 500 hundred and he gave me many bundles of sticks. When Jean saw my bundle of bundles, he said, “How much did you give the kid? $250?” I said, “no, I gave him 500. He said cinquante cent francs.” Jean then told me I misunderstood. The kid had pointed to the smaller bundle and said “50” (cinquante) and to the larger bundle and said “100” (cent). Moreover, each stick can be split into 2-3 thinner pieces for cleaning one’s teeth. Which means I bought enough for 5 families. And some of you are getting some very weird stocking stuffers at Christmas. 😉
Learning about life in Togo
Too soon it was back to work. As we were heading back, it started to rain. Hard. In the middle of one seminar, we lost power. I asked the teachers what they do when they lose power in their classes. They said they continue working; it’s not a big deal. However, some complained about trying to listen to me talk while the rain was pounding the windows; they suggested in the future that I stop class until the rain lets up. It was the first of many signs that Togolese culture is the exact opposite of American culture. In the last seminar, for example, I learned that not only do Togolese not value space or privacy as Americans do, they find such values literally laughable. I also learned that in at least one group of teachers, weddings and funerals are considered “informal” activities for which being on time is not important. Only a school exam was considered a formal activity for which being on time is required. It is also so serious that students are instructed to bring their own candle and a match in case the exam building loses power.
Strange dinner at the hotel
By the time we finished the seminars and the debriefing with the DIFOP trainers, it was well after 7. We went back to the hotel and agreed to give the hotel restaurant a try. I was a little skeptical at how good the food would be, but Jean assured me it would be fine. Feeling game (pun intended), I decided to try the “pintade”, a guinea fowl. It was served with couscous and vegetables in a tomato sauce. The fowl was tougher than chicken; I would not order it again. The vegetable sauce was okay but not exciting. Meanwhile, Jacques had found a friend up the road and had been allowed to bring a similar dish from this friend into the same dining room. It was very strange that the restaurant would allow outside food.
Tags: Africa, Food, hotel, Kara, Togo, Travel
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