A Day in the Life

Let me take you through a typical day in lovely Gbatope. I usually get up around 5:30, the last to rise in our humble abode. I wrap my panga (google it) around my waist, pick up my shower bucket and stumble outside. Immediately all eyes turn to me and one of my little brothers runs out of the kitchen (a straw hut in our backyard), grabs the bucket from my hand and fills it with water gathered from the well. I then head to my own private latrine where I shower by continually dousing myself with water from the bucket. I enjoy my bucket showers although the first pour always makes me catch my breath. It’s theonly time in the day I’m even remotely cool. Taking bucket showers makes me realize how much water I waste when I shower in the U.S. as I never use all the water in my bucket. Finished I wrap my blue and yellow pagna around my waist and head back to my room where my breakfast is usually waiting for me. I eat as much of it as possible and then I take my doxycycline. This is the most important thing I do all day. Chloroquine-resistant malaria accounts for 40% of th deaths in Togo. By the time I’m done with breakfast I’m already sweating profusely. That’s just how it is here.
I head to the Tech Center at 7 and this involves biking up the road which runs through Gbatope. The time spent on this road, going to and fro, is thrilling to say the least. The lowly cyclist I must share the narrow road with whizzing motorcycles and huge, thundering cement trucks. My fellow Peace Corps Trainees and I are somewhat celebrities in the town, at least with the children. I say this because virtually every child you pass points at you and screams “Yovo, Yovo” (“white person”, “white person”). It’s unavoidable and happens at least 10 times every trip to and from the Tech Center. If there is a group of children they sing “Yovo, Yovo, Bonsoir, Ca Va Bien, Merci” mocking our small French vocabulary – “Yovo, Yovo. Good day. I’m Fine. Thank you”. By the time I get to the Tech Center I’m drenched in sweat and wondering why the hell I took a shower in the first place.
From 7-10 it’s technical training – agroforestry, food security, and garden time. Then it’s French class until 12, when we return home for lunch. 2:30-5:30 is more tech and French. At 5:30 the sky begins to darken and I head home. Traversing the “road” in the dark is absolutely terrifying as trucks and motos squeeze by you. The best time to take a bucket shower is at night. After a long, sweaty, grimey day you want nothing more than to douse yourself in cold water. Plus there’s the view above you. To the left of my latrine is a huge African palm and to the right is a towering Baobob tree. The night sky is filled with stars and it seems almost romantic the way they are spaced between the giant branches of the palm tree when I gaze upward. The absence of light pollution here compared to Charlotte makes a remarkable difference as to what you can see. I swear it’s a different sky. On clear nights in Charlotte you can make out a few stars, here the clear night sky brings a view of the Milky Way.
After my soothing shower and heartful dinner, I either hang around with my host family and teach card games to my siblings or I go and meet up with my fellow PCTs at the local bar for a couple beers. But regardless I’m not up late. Bedtime for me here is usually around 8. I blow out my lantern (no electricity in Gbatope) and crawl under the mosquito net drapped over my bed. Sleeping here is it’s own ordeal. I’ve gotten better at sleeping than when I first arrived but it’s definitely a nightly challenge. Often there are sounds of singing and beating drums or the cacophony from the church in my backyard where it sounds like members of the congregation have screaming matches. These usually carry on late and by late I mean 9:30 but the other night there was chanting and singing which lasted from 2-3 a.m. Then there’s always the chickens and the goats that roam the town unfenced, waiting to become delicious meals. One night I came home and found my mother on a ladder chasing a chicken that had scaled a tree in an attempt to avoid her knife. I won’t lie the animal calls are pretty annoying. The first three nights I awoke to roosters calling to one another at 3 a.m. I checked my watch and each night they were nearly on the dot come 3 a.m. If the animal noises aren’t enough to make your night restless, the heat in bed is. A minor shift in position results in immediate sweating. But hey this is Africa and you get used to it.