Tun-po man!? Such is the afternoon salutation in Moba meaning roughly “does your work go well?” And with that, happy Mother’s Day!
So even though Mother’s Day isn’t a celebration practiced here, today I’ll give a glimpse of one fete (party) that we actually just celebrated here in Togo on May 1st. Premiere Mai is easily one of the two biggest national celebrations in the country. The other grande fete celebrated here is New Year’s. So beyond the irregular scattering of extravagant funerals, other traditional regional celebrations and bonne année, premiere Mai is a holiday that all Togolese put their sights on. Just like us back home, people bank on having certain regular holidays built into their schedules to look forward too throughout the year. Regardless of who you are and what kind of a living you’re able to make, most everyone manages to keep enough saved up in their pockets so they can make chockbah (millet beer), pool enough money to blast music all day long and afford to eat meat in a dish of macaroni and rice (two of the more pricey starches found here). It’s a funny way of saying it, but in truth people seem to judge how well you celebrate as a function of how well you eat. So on the day of any fete at least a couple people usually ask me “et tu as tué quoi pour la fete?”
For the case of premiere Mai, the occasion celebrates work. So you might equate it to Labor Day for us. Although almost everyone in village works the land, most people have some sort of a profession or craft that they do on the side for supplementary income. That trade may not suffice for a living, hence the need to cultivate, but it at least serves as a point of pride for many people. I recall my brother (a welder by trade) explaining to me the importance of his work and the great pride he took in showing me his certificate of apprenticeship. I remember him saying with great conviction « Si tu n’as pas un travail, les gens vont te dire
Thus, in honor of the various professions that the Togolese undertake, every May 1st everyone celebrates, usually with his or her fellow tradesmen. So respectively the woodworkers, the tree planters, the local beer makers, the soccer team, the local associations and so on get together and celebrate whatever work they identify with. In my village and elsewhere, the celebration kicks off with a defile (parade) in which all the registered groups line up, in some sort of a common uniform and march from the CEG (which is like a high school) into town and settle where the chief and other community notables are waiting to receive them. The picture I’ve got here is of the tail half of the parade as they head up the road away from the CEG and into the village center. Of course, I walked with my association of tree planters who you can see in the foreground, sporting nice blue and white polo shirts ordered from Lomé. Once the march ends the groups settle into their respective corners and rejoice over food, drink and loud music. Needless to say, I enjoyed the festivities and was even spoiled by an afternoon shower (oddly enough certain people had promised me that May 1st it would rain. I didn’t believe them since based on experience, I’ve found it’s best to take most such assertions with a grain of salt, but of course these people where not gripped by the same surprise that I had when it started to rain and I was obliged to jog back to my house to protect my solar chargers which had been bathing in the sun.)
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