Back from the north

Sorry it’s been a little while since I’ve been on. But as my mom reiterated in her last letter I guess it’s just par for the course that these posts stay intermittent. Spent the last week or so traveling the country. The transformation of the landscape as you go north in the country is astounding. Up north it’s a completely different setting. Through the course of an 11+ hour bush taxi ride the climate goes from tropic to savannah where the sun is hotter, the humidity is less, the trees are fewer and the farm animals multiply. I made it all the way up to the northern limits of the country. I basically made it into the upper left hand corner of Togo next to Ghana and Burkina Faso. In fact, I was so close to the border with Ghana that virtually everyone in the area, although fluent in the local language of Moba and sometimes French, regularly used to the words “buh-bye” to send people off. Lots to tell about the area and the trip up but I plan to describe it better later on when I make my next trip up. I think there could be some quite interesting bush taxi stories to come so don’t feel like you’re missing out now.

I have to start off by giving my dad something to be proud about. I was as shocked as anyone else when this happened, but one day as I was eating my lunch I happened to notice a collared shirt turned inside out that was hanging off the kitchen hut across from where I was eating. It was old and worn but the style was definitely American. Nonetheless, what caught my eye was the label on the collar. Wouldn’t you believe it but it read “L.L. Bean, Freeport, Maine”. Who would have thought I’d be in the middle of Africa and catch my African brother wearing a shirt made by the American company my dad works for! Maybe dad can get to the bottom of how that could have possibly wound up in the middle of Togo, West Africa. Cheers to globalization I guess.

The same day I happened across the L.L. Bean shirt we had a fairly serious game of soccer. We lined up a match of locals versus our group of volunteers and put Coke’s for the winning team on the line (though we all knew one way or the other it was going to be us buying the Cokes). Though it got fairly serious at points, smiles prevailed in the end (we lost pretty badly, 6-2). I guess I will attribute the loss to the heat. It’s amazing that these kids have no problem playing through such heat without breaks or a water bottle. Not too mention they’re footwear. Generally it’s hit or miss whether kids have shoes to play in or not. Often they play in bare feet, but sometimes you get a couple players with spikes (spikes worn down to modest nubs that is). So even though I felt hindered by my inability to move sharply without my cleats, I couldn’t complain seeing what some of the other kids were working with. The field was something else too. It’s the end of rainy season so the grass is very long and green. Lumps and ruts in the field are everywhere and needless to say it’s difficult to maintain any kind of ball control. Usually there is some sort of referee keeping things under control and some assortment of spectators watching from the sidelines (figuratively speaking anways). Goals are made of a wooden frame (not cut wood though, the beams are made from smaller sized trees) that is normal regulation size, but has no net. And then, if there are fewer kids they just take a brick, prop it up and mark goals by hitting it with the ball. Anyway, although you may see a basketball hoop here or there, soccer is clearly the dominant sport and most kids will take part if given the opportunity. In fact, it does get fairly competitive and organized. At the same time we were playing there was a serious match down the road between two local towns.

In case you’re concerned I shaved the moustache and my “deforested head” (as my mom referred to it) is starting to reestablish itself. Think I might leave the picture up anyway though. I like the thought of people picturing me cruising Africa with a bald head and a moustache.

Make sure everyone keeps sending me updates on what they’re doing. You know my email and you can always just post something here.

Comme toujours, a la prochaine!