30 December - Vindication

I have a nasty sore throat after spending 4 consecutive days in Lome…between the dust, busted motos trailing tails of blue smoke and massive piles of burning garbage, it does not add up to the most positive environment for one’s respiratory system…but in the end it apperars to have been worth it.

Since je ne me decourage pas, I went back again to the Ministry of Decentralization for my recepisse. I zent directly to the higher up whom I had met the day before, to continue to push him to get the document signed before my departure. I have learned quickly that showing my face every day and cooing in Ewe is the easiest, zell qctually the only, zqy to get what I need and want from this government. Tommorrow, he said again, although I knew well that both today and tommorrow were half days because of the holiday. Maybe Monday ? Luckily this time he only wasted about 15 mintues of my time…

Claude was with me, to try once again to collect the 2 120 Watt Sharp modules still sitting in the customs office at the airport. This time I brought my copy of the decree, signed bythe Direcetur Generale of Customs, to present to the customs officers surely still dozing at the airport .
We first met a contact of Claude’s in another customs office close to the airport, to as khis opinion of the document and if he thought it would get us anywhere. He read the document and said that yes, he thought that i twas still in effect, even though the date on the document was 1998…this, he said, is what would create problems, as this also meant it was signed bythe former regime’s Customs Director (which former regime… ? Everyone knows that nothing has changed, although the ministries have added the words « of reform » at the end of their already outrageous and extraneous titles…)

After consulting with his boss, he said that he would be happy to call the office in teh airport and ask them to release the panels for a smaller fee than the 200,000CFA demanded by the qrrogant minions that had insulted me the day before.

In the classic Togolese fashion that I have become disturbingly accustomed to, we discovered that since there were no flights that day (again, yes, really), the head of the airport customs office had not come in to work.

Determined not to be foiled again, I decided that we must find the new version of the decree . We moto-ed back across town to the Direction General of Togolese Customs. After more Ewe canoodling with the security guards and secreatire, we found ourselves (rather quickly, considering the others in the waiting room had been there for 3 hours…sometimes I must just shamelessly take advantage of my zhite skin and green eyes…however terrible that it…I was fed up…) in the office of the Director of International Customs Affairs.

He looked at the decree that I handed him for a long 2 minutes then raised his eyes and said yes, this is still in effect. I suppressed my excitement with difficulty and asked if it was possible to obtain the new copy for my future work in Togo (I lmentioned nothing pof the panels zaiting at the airport and the ridiculous bribe i had encountered). He sucked air through his front teeth and said, sorry, there is no nezw version. I asked innocently if they would accept this one, as it is signed by the old Diurector from the previous government. He shrugged. I pushed on. Would it be possible to obtain a letter or signature from the new director with the current date ? Just do that I dont have any problems...humor me monsieur, s’il vous plait…

Bon, he said, write the letter. And I will get it signed for you. Here, he continued, and handed me a pencil and piece of paper, write this down. He proceeded to dictate the letter and told me to brin git back to him as soon as possible, with my logo at the top and a 500CFA stamp.
The stamp. A different 500CFA stamp for every document submitted to any ministry. Like the rubber stamps, without this 500CFA timbre, ce n’est pas officiel. They won’t look at it. Ils mangeant à chaque opportunité qu’ils peuvent…

We brought it back to him a few hours later, after typing and printing it at another of Claude’s friend’s tiny office , all the way across the city. Therefore our one shot at accomplishing our task.
I felt incredibly effective and satisfied, telling the Director that I would return on Monday to pick it up. Yea right, but fingers crossed anyway…

With the precious knowledge that the decree was still in effect we made one more trip to the airport. Buying a coca for the guard to let Claude in the office with me, we tried again to plead our case to the attendants. They continued to refuse, telling me thank you for bringing the decree this time but we cannot accept it, as i looked longingly at my solar panels leaned againt the wall where I left them. If they werent so heavy and i wzerent scared of what a Togolese jail cell might be like, I wouldve taken them and run like hell.

Your boss must know that this decree is still in effect, I said szeetly, he is the expert on the law of customs here at the airport no ? They snickered and reminded me that he was not there. Can you call him ? I continued to push. « I have no credit on my cellphone, sorry Madame » Here ! I thrust mine in his face . Give me his number. Shocked and livid, they shouted the number at me, go ahead yovo, try your luck.

Beeeeep . Beeeep. He picked up…I introduced myself and he recognized my identity when I said that I was the owner of the solar panels sitting in his office. What can I do for you Madame ? I read directlyfrom the decree, and told him that we had visiting the Direction of Customs today, to confirlm that it is still in effect. Of course it is, he responded, is there no one there to help you ? I said yes, there are 2 agents here, but they will not let me take them (not reminding him that not 2 days earlier that it was he on the phone who had told them to charge me 200,000CFA…)

Let me talk to one of them, he said. No problem. I sshoved my phone at one of the smirking agents, who proceeded to explain at length that that the document I had was dated 1998. Then he listened, expressionless, and finally said OK chef, no problem no problem. He offered no indication…My heart pounded.

When he hung up he stood and said calmly, See ? that was all you needed to do eh ? Bring that piece of paper ! Yes, I smiled and nodded, picking up the panels one by one and handing them to Claude. So so sorry for any trouble and thank you so much for all of your help and graciousness. Bon Fete et miadogo-loooo. They were half smiling as we carried the panels out the door. The only fee we had paid was the 100CFA for the guards soda.

I have never been so proud in my life.

On the way home, Claude played Celine Dion, Westlife and King Mensah on his cellphone and I leaned my face out the cracked bus window, reveling in our sweet victory.