Yam Festivals

Before colonists brought corn and cassava from the Americas, West Africa had ignames or yams. But these ain't no sweet potatoes, which are only very distantly related to the true yam. These yams are ENORMOUS tubers (can grow to 2.5 meters in length and weigh up to 150 pounds) that are dug up, peeled, boiled, and pounded into the traditional dish fufu. Fufu is to Togolese cuisine as pasta is to Italian cuisine. It resembles a sticky mound of mashed potatoes and is accompanied by a variety of sauces: okra, groundnut, sesame, tomato etc. Yams are also stewed or deep-fried to make koliko (similar to French fries). Togo is one of the world's top 5 producers of yams.

The season to harvest new yams begins at the end of rainy season, typically between August and September. As the traditional staple food of West Africa, the first harvest of yams is accompanied by a large festival. Representative of Togo's plethora of ethnic groups, each region or village will organize it's own yam festival. Yet, certain festivals are more renowned. For instance, Bassar is well known for its fire-dancing ceremony.

Scheduling the festivities often depends on the weather, so the dates can only be confirmed a few weeks in advance. For this reason, I was unable to attend the Bassar festival. However, I have attended two others.

In 2007, while I was attending Peace Corps training, I lived with an Ewe family in southern Togo. Their village tradition featured the dance of the Panther. First, the young men of the village enter the Sacred Forest and cover themselves in mud. Then, one of the young men invokes the spirit of the Panther.

After the “Panther” paraded through the town, we all danced under the sacred trees—jumping up and down and shouting what sounded like “Cherry! Cherry!” I never caught the meaning of this chant, but it was a good time and was followed by freshly pounded fufu.

The following year, I was living at my post, Kaboli. The people living in this area are descendants from the Yoruba tribe; so the festivities included stilt walking and dancing that resembles a form of African martial arts. During the official ceremony, I felt honored when I was named in the prayers for good tidings over the next two years.

Training Twist : Getting the most out of your meetings

Peace Corps Togo manages the publication of the newsletter Farm to Market. This newsletter co-edited by two volunteers from the Small Enterprise Development program (my program) and two volunteers from the Natural Resource Management program. As farming is the primary economic activity for a majority of Togolese families, this publication focuses on interplay between business and agriculture. Each year a new team of editors is selected as the old team finish serving their second year of service and leave Togo. I was selected to serve as one of the new co-editors in June 2008.

Below is an article originally published in the March 2008 issue. I co-wrote this article with a fellow volunteer, Golda Calonge, before being selected as a co-editor.

When meeting groupements for the first time, one challenge that a Volunteer must meet is facing the initial expectations of the groupement's members. At the outset, members are looking for something immediate or concrete: "What is this person going to give me - today - so that I can improve the quality of my life?" The Volunteer, on the other hand, does notcome to these meetings with readymade solutions for all of the members' problems. At thefirst meeting, we're still learning what those problems are before we're able to offer any useful advice.

So when the two of us set out to start meeting with the groupements in our area, wewere fortunate to discover a very useful method for interacting with the groupement members. By fusing training into our meeting, both the expectations of the Volunteer and the groupement were met.

Angela works in Kaboli as a SED Volunteer, and Golda works as an NRM Volunteer in the village of Afele, which is located about six kilometers outside of Kaboli. As both our programs encourage us to work with groupements, we decided to work together and start meeting with groupements in our area. One Sunday, Golda invited Angela to meet one of her women's groupements in Afele. Meeting the NRM program objective to raise awareness about the benefits of moringa, Golda opened the meeting by training the women on how to use moringa seeds in order to make water potable. As the water is required to restone hour so the moringa seeds can work their magic, Angela used this break in the demonstration to inquire about how the groupement works and to discuss how they would like to improve it.

We began the meeting by getting the women physically involved. In order to clean water using moringa seeds, someone has to pound the seeds, mix the seeds with a bottle of clean water to create a solution, and stir it into the dirty water which needs to be treated. Although a single person could have done all those things, we asked for volunteers in the groupement to help us, which got them actively learning about moringa and potable water.

Their active participation continued well into the meeting portion of our day. By the time Angela started her dialogue with the groupement, Golda had piqued their interest and focused their attention. Before Angela could even ask her first question, Sinatou, the groupement's president, expressed her enthusiasm by immediately askingwhat type of loan they should apply for at the local microfinance institution.Encouraged by Sinatou's honesty and eagerness to improve their groupement, Angela explained that before we could know the best way to advise them, we needed some fundamental information about how they operated. Angela deftly redirected the conversation by working questions into her answers, such as: "How many people are in your groupement?" "What kinds of activities do you take part in together?" "Do you meet regularly?" "Are there otherofficers?" and "Do you have bylaws?"

Though the discussion was largely dominated by Sinatou and Golda's counterpart, Ernest, who was translating, one or two other women would intermittently pose questions about how we could help them. Interweaving a training session into the groupement meeting encouraged members who did not speak French or hold a leadership position to ask questions about atangible subject that they felt more comfortable with. This gave each member ownership of the meeting.

For our part, we were able to ascertain the general framework of the groupement's structure and to discuss the members' ambitions to improve it. Sinatou talked about how the women organized their credit system and how their enterprise is primarily based on selling and storing grains. This signaled to us that we should investigate local lending optionsand different methods of grain storage in preparation for future meetings. Another member spoke out and showed her interest in soy processing and animal husbandry. Upon hearing this, we asked them if they would like to have another meeting that would include asession on soy milk production and a further discussion of the issues they had presented to us that day. The answer was a resounding "yes." Just like the end of any good time you have with people you'd like to get to know better, all we needed was the promise of a second date.

By the time we had wrapped up our discussion, the dirt from the moringatreated water had sunk to the bottom of our bucket and was ready to be filtered. We had addressed a communityproblem while gaining a better perspective of how to help one particular groupement help themselves. After their meeting, people from outside the women's groupement, including men, approached us on how they could plant moringa and where they could find seeds. By introducing a new practice, community members had something tangible to take home with them, even if they were not part of the groupement.

Instead of coming to a groupement meeting with the intention of purely extracting information about how they operate, the inclusion of an interactive and interesting information session created an environment for a mutual exchange of ideas. This provided an open forum for everyone involved to learn fromeach other.

Fine Dining: Le Sandwich Omelette

The network of Peace Corps volunteers in Togo maintain a literary magazine called Perspectives. The magazines editor has asked me to write a regular food column. This article was originally published from the July 2008 issue.

It's not that I don't like Togolese food. My counterpart, for example, makes some seriously delicious kom (the fermented corn patty), especially when it is complimented with a side of fried fish. But I am always disappointed when I try it on the streets of Sokodé or Kara. The sauce isn't as good. I love the rice ladies, too—it's always service with a smile there! And most times, a local volunteer has a good recommendation. However, without a guide you may find that the sauce contains more snotty okra than you would like or is swamped with fish-skin flakes and cartilage. After a two to ten hour ride in a bush taxi, you want something that you can rely on ... the Egg Sandwich.

Home Away from Home
The formula is simple: eggs beaten, mixed with chopped tomatoes and onion, fried in oil and then laid in a mayo-smothered baguette. No surprises. The egg sandwich is all-American: I've seen every one of those ingredients in America and I can see every single ingredient that goes into making my perfect to-go repas.

Well, I may have exaggerated; it's not quite all-American. When making egg sandwiches in the United States, it's usually on toasted Wonder bread and not the Togolese version of a French baguette. Also, I like to scramble the eggs with some American cheese product, like Kraft singles. (I like a milder cheese with my eggs and therefore tend to avoid the sharp cheddars, which overwhelm the palate.) Then I top it all off with some ketchup.

Don't forget the mayo!
I love ketchup. But where there is no ketchup—there is mayonnaise. I can't get enough of this strange concoction of oil, vinegar, egg, salt, sugar, thickener E412 and other tasty preservatives. The Ghanaians give further instruction on the application of these fine condiments when fried rice is served with both mayonnaise and ketchup. Their culinary genius is misguided, however, when Ghanaians choose to serve their egg sandwiches with margarine! Margarine—the blandest condiment to ever exist and a poor substitute for butter. Unfortunately, the arbitrarily drawn border separating Ghana from Togo has left us with delicious, crusty bread on one side and egg-sandwiches with mayonnaise on the other.

Volunteers may debate whether or not adding mayonnaise to an already greasy omelet is a good idea, but my advice is this: take the mayonnaise! Then ask for more. It just tastes better, and besides, you're an American living in a land of pâte and snot sauce – you could use a little comfort food. What might usually hold us Westerners back from such an indulgence doesn't really apply here. After living in Togo for a year, I've gained 10 pounds, and the gentlemen at the taxi station tell me that I've never looked better.

As for something to wash it all down, I prefer a simple cup of tea. It is true that the first time I sipped a café au lait (that delicate mix of Nescafé and "Sweetened Concentrated Milk with Vegetable Oil") after four Starbucks-starved months, I could have sworn it tasted like a white-chocolate mocha. Today, however, I don't find the "Sweetened Concentrated Milk and Vegetable Oil" as refreshing as a cup of Lipton-simple after a greasy egg sandwich.

Order Up!
Ordering an egg sandwich is not always easy. Some vendors have no idea what the word "sandwich" means—whether you say it with a French accent or not. Even after repeated visits to a particular cafeteria, I have to specify that it's an omelet in bread with mayonnaise. No worries though, it always turns out fine.

In your own village, you may quickly become associated with a particular egg-sandwich man. As a replacement volunteer, I inherited my egg-sandwich guy in Kaboli. But after his marriage proposal, I decided to make my own at home whenever the craving hits.

In Sokodé, it's a different story. The proprietor of the Cafeteria de Boulevard (next to the CIB-Inta on the Tchamba road) serves up some good conversation as well as a great egg sandwich. We often discuss music, philosophy and politics. For instance, we both like Usher. Yet, he wonders why so many pop songs focus on romantic love but ignore pressing social issues. I've promised to introduce him to Mos Def and Nas.

The most technically impressive egg sandwich man I've seen so far is in Kara. While he orchestrates an elaborate presentation for your tea or coffee, the neighboring boutique tosses him supplies through the window as his run out. Best of all, there is no skimping on the mayonnaise.

Village Savings and Loan

When I first arrived at my post, my official Togolese counterpart was an officer for one of the local microfinance institutions (MFI). I quickly identified opportunities to improve their performance. However, I soon learned that this region-wide MFI was about to be restructured. During this process, the director from the capital decided to consolidate the MFI's resources and shut down the smaller branches surrounding Kaboli.

As these branches closed, the citizens of these smaller villages were further discouraged from participating in a more formal banking system. Many villagers already find it difficult to justify spending 2500 CFA (approximately $5) to open a savings account. So in order to encourage local savings and credit options among sceptical villagers, I introduced the idea of a Village Savings and Loan Association.

At weekly or monthly meetings, a group of 10 to 30 members meet to save money. The group they uses these pooled funds to offer short-term loans to its members at small monthly fee. The system increases the members' access to credit and introduces them to a more formalized system of financial management.

The system applies the principles of trust and memorization. The members are usually already familiar with each other, which encourages a strong foundation for the group. For instance, the first group that I worked with was a group of women that had been buying and re-selling okra together for several years. The system, therefore, allowed them to build a better structure for managing their money. Further, they already had strong financial ties and were comfortable loaning money to each other.When introducing a group to the system, some potential members are nervous about being illiterate. However, the system is based on collective memory instead of written documents. At the beginning of each meeting, all members announce how much money they believe is in their lock-box based on the previous meeting's count. The treasurer then confirms this amount. After concluding financial transaction for that meeting, the new total is announced.While the meetings require a lot of time and patience, the members really appreciate hearing their weekly or monthly savings rise. Also, we try to end each meeting with a snack or tchouk (the local brew) or even some dancing ..

Labor Day “En Form”

May 1st is Labor Day in Togo. This national holiday is only outperformed by the week-long New Year's celebration. The Labor Day festivities begin with a parade. All the unions march together according to their trade and in matching outfits. Then, akin to our own labor day celebrations in America, the parade is followed by grilled meat and beer.

My counterpart, Foumilayo, invited me to join her family and friends for the holiday by dressing “en form” and sharing a roasted chicken. To dress “en form” each member of a group agree to buy a particular pattern of pagne (a square of fabric) and then have it tailored. Often, you choose to buy two or three pagne to make a full complet (a traditional outfit). If money is tight, though, one pagne will make do for a skirt or button-down shirt for a man. I splurged for two pagne and so far it is my favorite among the my six complets.

I wouldn't normally be so inclined to dress the same as my friends in the United States. However, it is the cool thing in Togo. Every special occasion calls for the selection of matching pagne—weddings, funerals, graduations, welcome home parties, etc.

Yet—as my Togolese friends do not usually think it is necessary to explain the details of any plans—I was caught off guard when my adoptive grandmother and fou fou lady, Adissetou, made me a second, purple complet for the same Labor Day celebration. So I compromised. I wore her purple complet in the morning when I went to her restaurant to have brunch. Then I paraded around the village center to show off a bit. In the afternoon, I changed into my other complet for the party at the village outskirts. When I ran into Adissetou's daughter, however, she was a bit upset not to see me in the purple complet that would have matched her own. I tried to explain the misunderstanding, but ...

Later I learned that two other Togolese friends were offended that I had not invited them to participate in the same form with Foumilayo. These social misteps began to remind me of a middle school dance. But after my first beer, Foumilayo served some delicious roasted chicken and I soon forgot my troubles. More of my Togolese friends arrived at the festivities and I continued buying rounds of drinks until well after sunset.

A Typical Day

I wake up around sunrise. My first goal is to get to the well first. During the dry season, the well water becomes extremely murky approximately an hour after sunrise and is almost dry about an hour later. I only need 2 buckets, one for bathing and one for drinking, cooking and cleaning. On laundry days I fetch a third bucket. During the rainy season, I can sleep in because the buckets placed strategically under the gutters of my gazebo catch the rain run-off.

After filtering my drinking water, I boil some water with lemon grass and cook my breakfast. I eat oatmeal with re-constituted powdered milk and a sliced banana. Oatmeal is not sold in Kaboli, but I can find it in Tchamba, 40 km away. I stock up once a month. Nescafe or Lipton tea, which is cheaper but not always available, provides my daily caffeine fix.

Most mornings I'll go for a run on the dirt road behind my house that goes to Balanka. Sometimes I'm too lazy though and I read the latest American or British magazine that I am lucky enough to get my hands on.

Around 8am, it is time to get out of the house and perform my morning greetings. I usually begin this ritual by having a second breakfast of kom (a patty of fermented corn meal) and fried fish, which is served by Peace Corps counterpart, Foumilayo. She makes the best sauce. We chat about work or village gossip. Then I head to the small market in the center of town to buy supplies for lunch and practice my Ana (the local language) with all the vendors : Kabo ! Edjié ! Did you sleep well? Very well. How are the people at your house? They are there and well. And the children? They are there and well. And the work? It's going. May God be with us today! Amen! Send my greetings to your people. They will understand.

If have no other meetings in town, I go back to my house, study, work on the computer, and have lunch. While I'm doing my dishes, the kids are usually on their way back to school. They check if I have any empty tuna cans, which they use to make toys. Most days I do not, and they just like to say hi. I ask them how school is going, to which they always reply “très bien”—very good. After any afternoon meetings, it is time to buy my cat some fish and perform afternoon greetings with the same market vendors. But instead of Edjié (Good Morning), I begin with Aléni (Good Evening).

The greeting is key to maintaining your network in Togolese society. Even if have no work-related reason to visit colleagues at a particular microfinance institution or NGO, I like to stop by once a week or once every two weeks just to say hi and see what's up. Thanks to the miracle of telecommunications, aquaintences will often call me just to say and hang-up after an eight-second conversation.

Every other day, I visit my fou fou lady, Da Da Adissetou. Fou fou is yams pounded into a sticky mass. You eat it by clumping balls of it between your fingers and then dunking it into a bowl of sauce. But when fresh yams are out of season (from May to August), the alternative is pâtt, a thick corn meal porridge eaten in the same manner as fou fou. I enjoy fou fou as it vaguely reminds me of mashed potatoes, but I can only tolerate so much pâtt. But even if I am not eating, I am required to stop by and greet Adissetou as she considers herself my grandmother away from home. Nevertheless, she always complements my outfit and tells me that I am beautiful. Then some days her sister is selling wagash (cheese made by the Foulani tribe)—a nice bonus.

My evenings are quiet. I usually have a light dinner, study French or for the GMATs. Then I brush my teeth and read myself to sleep around 9pm.

My days aren't always so uniform. For instance, I am looking forward to hosting an evening radio program at the end of the month. The weekends are the best in Kaboli : I go to the market on Saturday afternoon. Sundays, I go to church in the morning and then drink tchouk (the local brew) and eat grilled pork with some friends under a grove of mango trees.

Holidays: Christmas in Kara

To fight off the holiday blues, I traveled to Kara Christmas Eve in order to spend the holiday with my good friends from my training class, Peter and David. Kara is the capital of the Kara region, which is just north of the Central Region where I am posted. Though smaller than my regional capital, Sokodé, a wider variety of alimentation can be found in Kara because of it's larger expat population. Further, the president's family is from Kara and it therefore receives more attention from the government.

So on Christmas Eve we dined at “La Douceur” and enjoyed scalloped pork and roasted potatoes. We then woke up Christmas morning, munched on cookies and fruitcake, and listened to Christmas carols played on my computer. Afterwards, we began our preparations for Christmas dinner. While the scalloped potatoes were cooking, we played Simpsons' Monopoly and drank gin & soda. Peter won.

After stuffing ourselves on steak, spinach and potatoes, we took the traditional nap. Wrapping up the festivities, we watched “It's a Wonderful Life” and enjoyed warm apple crisp.