20 Novembre – Les Changements

Just like last time, it has taken me a day or so (or 4) to adjust to la vie Togolaise. The early mornings, raucous Ewe and constant drone of sputtering motos, the crying babies, hungry chickens and grinning school children.

My friends here at FECECAV and in Kpalimé are beside themselves with happiness to see me. I have been nearly bowled over several times (and I am not exaggerating) by an exuberant collectrice and an ecstatic Grace (Daniel’s, the CEO of FECECAV, daughter, whose love for me warms my heart as much here in her village as it does from more than 5000 miles away.

On one hand, nothing here has changed. This is the vicious cycle of poverty, this is the burden of slow and cumbersome economic development (or, more accurately, the lack thereof.) This is the developing world. I have so much to be grateful for in Philadelphia and I never forget it.

On the other hand, small things have changed, and I have noticed them all – to everyone’s surprise, for some reason. There are new curtains in someone’s home, they have acquired a TV set or a cupboard, where once was a pile of dishes and an empty wall. There are new placemats at Petit Suisse, and a new sign out front to try to draw in more business. FECECAV has a new money-transfer partner and a “permanent” internet connection. In every office, wires and computer equipment have been tidied up and there is a large table in the once empty grand salon. Avocado and mango season has ended, and now is the time for oranges and plantains.

All of these little things are more grandiose and worthy of note than any skyscraper I have seen being built in New York City. Life evolves, life keeps going, no matter the circumstances. And everyone here still smiles and asks if I have slept well, how is everyone in America, and thank you, yes, we are still doing well here in Togo. We hope that your hero Barack Obama will bring change to Africa. I lie and say, yes, he will.

Everyone also asks the same question – what have you brought for me?

I have noticed the transience of human life. In my absence, certain people who were a large part of my day are no longer here. Daniel’s mother, who offered me a toothless ‘Allafia’ every morning has returned to her village in the North, where she will most likely stay until she dies (this is what I was told when I asked where she was.) Esse, one of the cassieres at FECECAV has joined her husband in the states. Rogier has had a baby girl and Kofficho has lost one. Perhaps most striking is the absence of Felize, Mensah’s son and the constant smiling and naughty presence at Petit Suisse. He decided that he wanted to try yet another profession and, upon leaving Petit Suisse, has left not an address, not a number, not a word as to his whereabouts. Mensah said he was seen down by Hotel Cristal, and shakes his head saying he had a good thing going here and whatever happens to him is the fault of his wicked nature. I can’t stop thinking that if my little brother suddenly disappeared….

The rainy season has mostly ended and the Harmattan is coming. L’harmattan are the sandy winds that sweep down from the Sahara in December and January. They dominate the sky and the climate, leaving a dusty film on everything in sight and stinging the skin. Although l’harmattan has not yet arrived in full force, already I can feel the grit in my teeth as I ride on Inno’s moto, my light gray shirt quickly turning a reddish tan from the dust in the air. The taxi-moto drivers now all wear makeshift masks over their mouths, so as not to breathe in all of the dust.

In regard to my trip and my SunPower Afrique work, I have unfortuately been told that I cannot attend many of the meetings and complete much of my the work I had hoped for by myself. Mister Jon needs to be in attendance. You can imagine my disappointment and discomfort…culture, diplomacy and bureaucracy never cease to amaze and confound me. So my plan has changed a bit, and I will be here for about 2 weeks instead of the month – but there is still some work to be done.

First of all, I am helping Athanase write Kiva descriptions while I am here, as I can post them on the site directly in English, which means that the loans get funded more quickly. I am happy to help while I am here.

I will meet with my contact at the Togolese NGO ACDI-Solar, who turns out to be the most knowledgeable person about renewable energy that I have met here in Togo. I hope to find out where they buy their solar modules and batteries, who installs them, who trains these installers, what problems they have encountered, etc. This information will be invaluable. No need to reinvent the wheel. It will be of course a preliminary conversation, because I am only a white woman, and we will continue our plans and our discussion in January or February when Mister Jon, my patron, returns with me.

I will also meet with a young man who runs an NGO called Youth for the Environment and with Jacques at the National Microfinance Committee to present my materials so that he sees the evolution of the project. I am working on translating all of my documents into French right now, so that I may leave them with the appropriate people in anticipation of Jon’s arrival.

I am also going to complete my research on material availability and pricing (bamboo, batteries, etc.) and our workforce. I have realized that the workforce piece will be the easiest. There is no work here and many able, intelligent and innovative mechanics, electricians and carpenters.

And I am spending much time with ma cherie Innocent, who is as wonderful as I left him, if not more so.

I will write again soon, about my meetings, and will see you all back in the US around the end of the month. I try not to be discouraged and anxious, as people here still love my project, but I know I can’t do it alone. I’m not sure who I was kidding :) This time for some reason has also been a bit more difficult for me logistically – my new cellphone didn’t work here so it took a few days to get a new one so that I could call home, my bank card didn’t work and it took 3 expensive calls to Commerce Bank in Maryland to sort it out, and now my camera seems to be broken…Annoying, stupid little things that of course are completely negligible but make me uneasy. Cava mieux maintenant, but I look forward to seeing my Mom and Everest sitting in our living room again soon.