What am I doing here?

 January 27, 2022

A lot of you asked me before I left in September what I would be doing for the mission during my time here. I have been here nearly five months now and I would answer that question today much the same way as I did back then, "I'm not really sure . . . "

That is not to say that I am idle. Once school started, I began spending my days there, filling three different roles. Primarily (only because I spend most of my time there), I am an assistant to the kindergarten teacher. Personally, I think that I help very little: I pass out papers, take things to the office to get photocopies, and sometimes keep the youngest children (kindergarten is open to ages 3-5) busy and quiet while the older ones are working on a lesson. I am also an extra grown-up, so the teacher feels free to meet with the director or other teachers while I am there and leaves me in charge. This is not a great idea, because my disciplining skills are in terrible shape (although they're getting better--I'll have to talk about that soon), and I don't really like it, but I guess it's a help. Sometimes I feel as if I am a distraction. The kids like to come and hang on me or my chair when there is downtime, and disputes can arise. 

I love this picture. There is a book on the table. These kids are looking at the pictures and talking about it.

My second role is an observer of French classes in the middle school. I think that Hammer and Dela were hoping that I could actually do some teaching there so that they could save money on a teacher. However, as the middle school director pointed out, I have not had the training in the approved methodology and curriculum. He was delighted, however, to permit me to observe French classes, and got the French instructor to write out his schedule for me. The teacher determined the best days/times for me to observe, and now I attend 7th grade French on Monday afternoons and Wednesday mornings, 8th grade French on Wednesday mornings, and 9th grade on Monday afternoons. Since they see me twice during the week, the 7th graders seem to me to be the most interested in me. When the teacher is out of the classroom, they will either have me listen to them read the weekly text, try to teach me Ewe, or ask me questions about my life. But, most of the times in these classes, I watch the lesson. It is very interesting to see French taught not as a foreign language (although it is not the first language of any of the students), but as an in-depth study of the first language.

I would hate having to write out the entire lesson on the blackboard!

The third role is assisting Dela with the English classes in the elementary school. That has fallen to third place because of the illness and death of her mother. We have cancelled the classes when she has gone to Ghana. I tried one day to teach without her and it was a nightmare. It was a Friday, the day for the first- and second-graders. The older elementary kids had gathered some palm branches and were making brooms, I think. At any rate, there was a lot of activity outside, so I had class in the classroom (Dela and I usually teach them outside). Then, because the new brooms (or whatever) were being placed in the 1st grade classroom, they decided that I would combine the two classes. That meant a full hour in a small room with 40-45 children. There were even some kindergartners in the group, because five of them had forgotten/ignored the information that there was no kindergarten class that day. The children were noisy and unruly; I made it through all of the review material in about 40 minutes. I was ready to let them go, but the 2nd teacher responded, "Oh, non, Madame! It is not time." So I had to muddle through for another 20 minutes. I told Dela that I would not do that again.

None of those activities seems to be a particular ministry. Hammer has mentioned starting a women's ministry in Vo Asso, but his ideas would definitely require that I have help because of the language barrier. I had hoped that, after my move, I would be able to minister to the children in my street. They all play in front of my house. But I find a bit of a language barrier. They know a little French from school, but I'm not sure it is enough for Bible stories and songs.

So here are the specific "ministry" activities that I have accomplished in the last five months: taught the kindergartners and the 7th graders "Stand Up and Shout It!" in French; taught the 3rd-6th graders the first two lines of "Stand Up and Shout It!" in English. Asked my neighbor lady where she went to church and invited her to attend our church. Asked the same lady on another occasion if there were things I could pray for and told her I would pray that God bless her.

My prayer is that I am planting seeds (or watering, or pulling weeds, etc.) in general with my smiles and waves  (which I give out quite freely. Too freely, in fact. One morning, a man that I waved to on my way to school followed me there and asked for my phone number so that we could talk, and I could go to Lomé to meet his family and he could go to the States to meet mine!), and by all the hugs and smiles I give to the children. I will try to be content with that until God shows me something more specific.

Going to the funeral

 The last word I heard concerning the funeral was that those going were supposed to meet at 5:00 a.m. in order to leave on time. So when I woke up this morning at 5:15, I uttered a little prayer that they would be off to a good start and for God's protection throughout the whole journey to Ghana.

I arrived at the house between 6:45 and 7:00, and the sight below greeted me:

You guessed it: the van and all the things that were to be packed on top of the van. I spent the next 45 minutes or so standing and watching the work. Some of the women had been at the house cooking all night, but, as time passed, more church members came to join the group. Hammer was there, handing out jackets, because Dela's home town is in the mountains and can be cold. There was a bit of a festive atmosphere. I imagine, for some of the group (mostly women), they don't get an over night trip that often and that is why. I didn't want to miss the departure, but I was getting hungry so I went inside to eat. No worries, I had time to eat and still see them pulling out, which they did at 8:15!

Just a postscript on Solange's sister's funeral. I asked her about it today. Solange will be going to her village this afternoon and be there tomorrow. The funeral ceremony will be small, because her sister was little.

Please pray for both families!

Death

 Cemetery in the sad village

Not a fun topic, but, of course, the customs and rituals involved in dealing with death vary from culture to culture and are really quite interesting. And, since we are experiencing a double whammy of that right now, it is on my mind.

My first experience with death here occurred in March. If you attended my presentation either to Cindy's Bible Study or to University COC, you may recall me talking about two different ladies that passed away. The first was not a Christian, but she came to the Clinic, so when she died, her family went to get Karen the nurse. She, in turn, called Hammer, and the two of them spent a couple of hours observing the rituals that the family went through. That is when Karen and I learned that the lady would have to be buried in a special section of the cemetery because her death was from cancer and not due to natural causes. 

The next day a church member, Louise, passed away. Although the majority of her family are idol worshippers, they were amenable to honoring Louise's request for a Christian funeral. Since the church was organizing the ceremony, I was able to witness first-hand some of the preparations. I accompanied Hammer to the shop where he bought the casket. We also went to a place to buy some bricks so that the grave could be lined with them. I was at the house when Dela ordered -- and the seamstress delivered--the dress that Louise would be buried in. And, of course, I attended both days of ceremonies--the service in the evening and the morning funeral and burial. 

On that occasion I learned that the grave was lined with concrete bricks and concrete poured on top in order to prevent idol worshippers from stealing the head for their rituals. The horror of that thought, however, was offset the morning of the funeral when the burial party discovered that the hole was not big enough for the coffin. So they had to do some more digging before the body could be laid to rest. Then, the next day, when they went to check on the grave, the workers discovered that the concrete had caved in, so they had to re-do that. I confess I found the series of things going wrong a tad bit amusing, simply in the unexpectedness of them. I would never think of those possibilities in preparing a grave!

During this visit, a couple of Hammer's relatives have died, but the most closely related deaths occurred at the end of October--Dela's mother--and this week--Solange's sister.

Since Dela has three siblings living in Germany, they decided to delay the funeral until the end of this month, so that those family members could attend. In the meantime, she has made countless phone calls and texts and even a visit or two to Ghana to help plan and organize everything. They planned the program and got it printed, and they designed the cloth for the funeral clothes. Then, of course, Dela had to get her clothes made. I didn't notice at Louise's funeral, but in some families, the custom is to have matching clothes. At Hammer's Dad's funeral and this time, the material is a white and black print. She and her brothers and sisters decided to renovate and repair the house that their grandparents lived in so that they would have extra space for guests. Dela and Hammer have had several meetings with church members who want to go and organized transportation, sleeping arrangements, and meals for them. Her uncle has rented 20 mattresses for the church members. A lady in the congregation bought used sheets to put on those mattresses. In the house there are several cartons of bottled water, some buckets for bathing, toilet paper, etc. 

Dela left this past Tuesday to get things organized both in Accra, where their mother lived for many years, and in her hometown, but the preparations have continued. The pile of bottled water has grown. For the past few days a goat has been living in the compound, but I think she met her maker today. There were several women at the house cooking when I arrived to spend the afternoon. Everybody leaves early tomorrow morning. I'm not sure when they will return, but Dela will stay till the end of next week.

I know very little about the plans for Solange's sister. She has taken it very hard, as you might imagine. Solange is 24 and it was a younger sister who died. 

Hammer has asked a couple of times about the cost of funerals in the States, because he heard that they were very expensive. I explained that, indeed they can be, but part of that expense means that the family doesn't have to order the bricks and dig the grave. In my own case, my parents planned everything well in advance, so my siblings and I had little to do other than pick a date and time. I keep thinking I should pre-plan and pre-pay for my funeral to spare my kids the ordeal. Then I will occasionally realize that, if I don't, and they have to plan it all, I will have gone through life without having to plan a funeral at all. Then I think, that I leave it to them, they could just drag me to the landfill and toss me in. I don't want that to happen, so I need to get planning! (Just kidding about my offspring!)

Laundry Day

 

From Saturday, September 18:

Today is laundry day. Generally, that chore gets done twice a week. When I was here in March, it appeared to be a straightforward task: wash the clothes hang them on the clotheslines on the roof, take them down at the end of the day. Of course, with approximately 10 people in the house, it took a long time, even with the youngsters doing most of their own. Most of the time the clothes were dry by the end of the day, but the humidity could have complicated that, occasionally leaving them damp around the edges.

Now, in September, we are in the rainy season. The original plan to wash clothes on Tuesday of this week had to change due to a hard morning rain. Wednesday started out much better, but rains came in the afternoon. I was inside when they started, so am not quite sure what happened, but when I heard the rain I thought about the many times Mom and we kids ran out to the clothesline on the farm in the rain, taking down the clothes and bringing them inside to dry.

Since the clothes dry in the sun, they are hung up and folded inside-out to help prevent fading. I need to get used to this habit, because I have found myself putting clothes on wrong side out.

In the months since I wrote the paragraphs above I have had more opportunity to observe laundry day, and I find that it is a little more complicated than I thought. As you can see from the picture below, it takes several big washpans to do laundry. White clothes are put in a separate pan that contains a bit of bleach. They soak there for a few minutes before being dumped into the soapy water.

The especially dirty things--cleaning cloths, bath mats, etc. get washed with one bar of soap and then dumped into soapy water where they are scrubbed with another bar. In addition, both of those pans contain water to which powdered detergent has been added. 

All of the clothes eventually end up in the rinse pan, where they are swished, rung out, and then tossed into yet another washpan or bucket to be transported to the clothesline. Everybody seems to know the process. In the early part of this year, there was a lot of laundry, because they were also washing clothes from Sara & Doveney's storage bins. When friends of the family dropped by, they would help scrub or rinse the clothes.

Some folks are not blessed with a clothes line. They spread the wet clothes on bushes, trees, or even the grass to dry. 

Since my washing machine has not yet been hooked up--it needs a hose--Viviane is doing my laundry. I am hoping that she finds it simpler than at Dela's house, since it is just for one person. I only bought two wash pans, so I don't know how that is working for her--she comes while I'm at school. Which is a good thing. I have clotheslines in front of the house, but that is also where I park the car, so if the car is there, it limits the space on the line. Otherwise, the clothes would touch the car, which is usually very dusty.

I was excited about my clotheslines at first because I thought that being inside the compound would keep the clothes from picking up the smell from all the cooking over open fires that they get on Dela's roof. Unfortunately, the compound is small and the building on one side is rather tall. Both sunshine and breeze are limited by those factors. That means that some of the clothes don't get dry at all by the end of the day. Which means that I have to spread them out inside until they do. Since it gets humid in the evening, I must be careful not to put them too close to an open window. Otherwise they could get even damper overnight. My plan is to buy a drying rack and another fan and set them up in one of the empty bedrooms. It will be using electricity, but otherwise it can take days!

One final note on laundry. I have never been much of an ironer. I confess, when I was working, I would iron only the front part of the t-shirt or blouse I was wearing, knowing that the rest would be covered by a blazer. I would iron even less if I had to use an iron like this one. It has charcoal inside. Dela told me that she has an electric iron, but if she let the "children" use it, her electric bill would be sky high. I can't imagine doing that much ironing! 

 

Finding a place to live--more lessons in waiting

              

My house--the front gate and the front door.

I am now settled into my own place. As of Monday, I will have been here three weeks. Which, if you are counting, means that I spent roughly four months at Hammer and Dela's house. The first two days of that period, I was back in the rooftop chamber that I had enjoyed in March. But, after the fall, the stairs were just too much, so I moved into Joycelyn's room.

We didn't think that it would be a lengthy stay. The night of my arrival, Dela told me that the tenant in the house next door to their compound would be leaving on September 15. He is a huissier de justice--a bailiff--and had his office in the space. I thought it would be a perfect place to be. It was two bedrooms, a kitchen, a living room and a bathroom. And the location is ideal. 

 

This picture shows the gate into the compound--the tan one. The gray door that you see is Hammer's garage. It is the only picture of the house that I have. I only saw the outside. Dela and I went into the courtyard to check it out, but we never got to see the inside of the apartment that I would be renting. On September 15, the tenant announced that he needed to stay an extra few weeks because of a case that would be continuing that long. That was discouraging, to say the least! From my journal:

Of course, I'm impatient to be in my own place. (October 5)

Prayers still waiting for resolution--me being able to move and the wifi issue. (October 8)

I'm feeling some discouragement again about the living situation. I must really need lessons on hospitality and fellowship! It's just that I thought, by this time, I would have a bit more independence and be able to get around on my own and take care of things. That's not totally the fault of the living situation--part of it is me being chicken to drive anywhere but to school! (October 30)

Finally, toward the beginning of November, we learned that the tenant had decided not to leave. So Hammer began looking elsewhere for lodging. Toward the end of the month, he found two places and took Dela and me to see them one Friday evening. We just drove by one, because the rental agent could not meet us until the next week. Hammer thought it was the better choice, but Dela and I were not sure. In the dark it looked HUGE, far more than what I would need. We drove then to another one. It was located almost directly across the main road from Karen's house, although back from the road a bit. The house itself was great:  living room (of course), two bedrooms, two baths, a kitchen, and a storage room inside. The courtyard wasn't huge, but it was half paved and half planted, which was nice. Dela and I liked the house itself, but none of the three of us liked the location. Just before we had left on our house-hunting mission, someone had told Hammer that a man in a house behind his had died, so that house was up for rent. We drove in that direction on the way home, but couldn't tell what house it might be. Two neighbors that we asked did not know either. Dela thought that would be perfect. Unfortunately, as we found out the next day, the family had already found a new tenant.

So Monday, we visited Hammer's favorite. Seeing the inside made a huge difference for Dela and me both. It truly is larger than what I need (living room, dining alcove, kitchen, 3 bedrooms, two baths, outdoor kitchen and bathroom), but it is arranged in such a way as to feel cozy. I suppose the square footage is more than my house at home, but it doesn't feel it. One of the exciting things was the presence of air conditioning. We told the man I would take it and made arrangements again to meet for me to sign the lease and pay. The asking price was 60,000 CFA per month unfurnished, 80,000 furnished. Hammer talked him down to 70,000 for the furnished. 

Before we went to sign the lease, I had to go to the bank to get the cash. Hammer and I discussed the merits of a six-month vs. a year-long lease, and I decided to go for six months. My original plan had been to rent for a year, but, since it had taken so long to find a place, I only had about six months left in my original stay. Another advantage is that I could withdraw enough money for six months with one trip to the ATM, whereas I might have to make another one for a year's lease. When we met the rental agent, I paid for the six months. The agent then said that the landlady wanted a good-faith deposit of an extra 6 months. That I didn't have, so we agreed to meet once again the next week so that I could pay him that. We agreed that although I would have the keys as of that second payment, I would not actually move in until the 15th of December and the lease would run out on the 14th of June.

Naturally, things moved on a different timetable than that. Although the ladies of the church came the next Sunday afternoon to clean for me (see photo below), there were still things in the house that I didn't want to use (most notably the mattresses) that had to be removed. 

Then, a few days before I planned to move, the homeowner decided that my deposit was not sufficient to cover the cost of any of the furnishings that I might break. Hammer and I visited the house to see if there were things that could be removed and came up with a short list: the TV, the outdoor couch, either the couch or two of the chairs in the living room. But, since she had specifically mentioned the air conditioning in the living room, we weren't sure what her objection was. We decided to call her and see how much more money she wanted. Since he couldn't reach her, Hammer called the rental agent, who said not to give her more money, but to assure her that I would take care of the place. When Hammer finally got her on the phone, he found that her worry was that the living room AC was too powerful for the electricity in the house--it would trip the circuit If I used it. So I promised not to use it. [Just a side note. On the day I moved in, Yaouvid was skeptical of my story. He turned the AC on and, sure enough, it ran for about 5 minutes and then tripped a circuit.]

Other preparations had to be made before I could move. Hammer wanted someone to come check all the air conditioners to make sure they were working; he wanted to pour some concrete from the big gate to the street. I had to check out all the furniture and items that Sara & Doveney left in storage and then move them; and I had to get the Internet installed. 

All of these things caused delays in my moving plans, so that it was January 3 before I finally officially took up residence. There is still work to be done, but I have the essentials--a bed, a refrigerator, a bathroom, even household help. I am happy because I was able to unpack some things, like my laptop and my ukulele, which I had left in the suitcase for fear of being overwhelmed by things in the one bedroom. I am also happy because Joycelyn can now sleep in her own room when she comes to visit.

                    

Buying a car

The initial events recounted in this post took place in September. 

Some things take longer than they should. Buying a car is one of them. Even in the US, even when you know exactly what car you want and are willing to pay whatever the dealer asks, the process is not brief. The buyer talks to the salesman, who has to consult the manager before returning for more discussion. The finance person takes over to set up the payments and fill out the paperwork. If one is trading in an old car, there is more discussion. Two to three hours later, the exhausted buyer drives off the lot.

Imagine the process in a country where car lots don't exist (at least to my knowledge) and where the entire purchase price must be paid in cash. 

I would have been content to wait a while on getting a car, but Hammer thought it was a high priority, so he began the search early. As I said, there are no car lots--at least not in Vogan. To buy a car one goes to Lomé, to the port. But in my adventure, going to the port was the third or fourth step of the procedure. Step one consisted of Hammer contacting his friend who works at the port and asking him to be on the look out for a reasonably priced car that was clean and had good air conditioning and an automatic transmission. [Disclaimer: I know how to drive a stick, but decided that, considering the roads here, I would prefer an automatic. There is one paved street in town; the others are dirt and are full of bumps and potholes. You can't go fast at all, and the thought of shifting from 1st to maybe 2nd and then back again wore me out.] The friend sent some pictures, but then we would find out that the one I liked had been sold two months ago, so we would have to start all over.

In the meantime, we began to collect the cash, which took a while. See the post on living in a cash economy for further details.

Finally Hammer went to the port himself to meet his friend and visit the car lots there. He came back with pictures of a couple of vehicles that were available. 

On September 28, I became a participant in the process as well, as we went off to Lomé to choose and buy a car. We left Vogan around 9, and arrived at the port about an hour and a half later. After waiting for Augustin (Hammer's friend) for 45 minutes, we drove to a car dealer at the port.

Hammer wasn't happy with the car at the first lot, so we went to a second and then a third one, where he had already examined two different Hyundai Tucsons. One was red, the other black. As in the States, the red one was more expensive, so we opted for the black.

Once the decision was made, I was sent back to the car so that Hammer and Augustin could make the deal with the "big boss." My job was to stay out of sight so that the dealer would not raise the price once he saw who was buying it. The negotiations took thirty minutes, and then they decided to take a test drive. Some preparations were necessary:  buying a battery so it would run; backing up and going forward in the parking space; taking the rear left tire off and putting it back on. The test drive, performed by Hammer, took place in the lot--a potential buyer does not take the vehicle out on the open road. 

After the test drive, we left the lot, but some more money changed hands: some minor repairs needed to be made, and the watchman was paid to keep an eye on it. That's an interesting payment that you wouldn't have in the States. Yes, after 5 hours of working on it, I had purchased a car, but was not able to drive it off the lot (which I wouldn't have wanted to do anyway--The port area is super crowded and hard to drive in). 

 One more stop, though. Augustin left the car carrying some cash, my driver's license and the sale papers to go register the sale in preparation to getting a license plate. 

But wait--there's more! It ended up costing more, because it was imported from Canada rather than Europe. So Hammer went back the next day to take more money to the dealer. He drove the car back to Vogan some time before October 5, but decided it needed work before it would be safe to drive: brakes, shocks, tires, etc. By October 8, it was running and I drove it to school. 

Running, but not quite legal. The car was not yet licensed. Before I could get license plates, I had to get a fire extinguisher, caution triangle, and first aid kit and put them in the car. It also had to pass an inspection of some sort to get the "road-worthy certificate" and I had to have insurance. Once all those things were gathered, Hammer took them to Lomé in order to get the plates. Of course, he couldn't get them right then; the office said that they would call to let him know that they were ready and could be picked up. So that was another wait. In to the meantime, we had to be quite careful, locking the car in the garage every night. As Hammer explained, with no license plate and registration, it would be difficult to prove that the car was mine, should it be vandalized or stolen. 

Finally, at the end of November, all was finished. Hammer took the car back to Lomé, where it was properly adorned with license plates and stickers. Even Tata, the kindergarten teacher, noticed that they had arrived. Another mission accomplished, not on my timetable, but, I assume, on God's. I certainly had plenty of opportunity to work on waiting!

                   

It's all relative--part 2

 I have to post a P.S. to yesterday's entry. I felt cold in the night! Of course, I had the fan running, which didn't help, but it gets stuffy if the air is not circulating. I was able to check the temperature this morning, and it was 71 degrees. While I found it chilly, there were fewer kids in sweatshirts and hoodies. 

It's all relative

You know I am cold-natured to an extreme. You may have thought that it was impossible to be any more so than I. Read on.

I woke up this morning (Jan 20) to a cool morning. Not only was the temperature bearable, lovely breezes made it a very pleasant day. Because the Internet was not working at my house, I was not able to check the temperature until I arrived at Hammer and Dela's place. According to the app on my phone, it was 75 degrees.

Having seen people wear long sleeves and sweaters in the mornings, I was interested in seeing how many of the kindergartners would be bundled up, even worrying a bit because I was a bit late and thought that some would take their sweaters off upon arrival at school. So imagine my surprise when I walked in and discovered that, out of 14 kindergartners, there were 10 in hoodies, 2 in sweatshirts, and only 2 just in their shirtsleeves. Not only that, most of the children had their hoods up. And they were doing P.E.!

Later, little Espoir (the 6-month old son of the first-grade teacher) came to visit. He, too, was bundled up: long pants and sleeves, socks, and a little stocking cap on his head. 

I guess, when the daily temperatures are in the mid- to high-nineties, 75 is chilly. But I kept asking the children, "Aren't you hot? Would you like me to take your hoodie off for you?" And got no takers.

Setbacks and obstacles or attacks from Satan?

 This passage was originally written on September16, 2021, ten days after my arrival here. I have edited it for style as I typed it, but have made no substantive changes to the content.

Setbacks? I am reminded of our Sunday evening discussion a few months ago on the supernatural. We talked then about our American skepticism when it comes to that topic and how other cultures may be more accepting of the supernatural.

My fall is a good example. Is it a setback? or an attack from the devil? The added difficulty and complications that I now face have certainly frustrated me and have prevented me from worshipping and praying with the others, visiting the villages with Hammer, etc.

During prayer group Tuesday morning, (September 7) I read Romans 8:28 to the ladies and commented (as I had done once during a Wednesday evening) about my changing focus of appreciation of the verse. It certainly was a timely lesson, because within a few hours, I had fallen. It is once again time to focus on "And we know that God causes . . . "

While my American skepticism might see the fall and its results as merely a setback, Dela sees it as an attack from Satan who is trying to stop the work--my work--here. There is an advantage to her perspective. Viewing the event as a blow from Satan causes me to rely more fully on God, to pray for His strengthening and healing, and to trust that He will work in His time. That point of view is much more likely to increase my faith and result in spiritual growth.

From September 21:

Dela asked me to prepare a devotion for this morning's prayer group again. We had watched TV the other evening, and I was surprised by the number of shows on religion: worship services, talk shows, even a movie. The movie dealt with a young man who turned away from his Christian faith to find a better life by worshiping an idol. According to Dela all of the programs came from false religions or the occult. Because of that and the continued difficulties I was encountering from the fall and car search, I decided to read and discuss the whole armor of God. Ephesians 6:10-17. As we talked about the belt of truth, Dela decided we needed a demonstration. She used a scarf for her belt of truth and asked Viviane to attack her. They both ended up on the ground, almost landing on Sica, who was already sitting there. It took us about 10 minutes to get back to the passage because we were laughing so hard. 

             

Joy in the little things

 

Forgive me, but I have just had a visit from a plumber and I am now a very happy camper! (Note to siblings--I chose my words deliberately). One of the things he did was to install this new toilet seat for me. 

One of the characteristics of some people here is that they choose the least expensive option rather than pay extra for better quality. One such choice is toilet seats. Many bathrooms come equipped with cheap seats made of a plastic sheet supported by two plastic bars on either side. See the picture below.

I first encountered this style of seat during my March visit. Then, and ever since then, I have traveled through Togo leaving a trail of broken toilet seats in my wake. I have broken every one that I have used: one at Hammer's (maybe two!); one at Joycelyn's (Hammer's daughter); one in a public restroom in a bank or a restaurant in Lomé. The one in my house was already broken, but I have made it a bit worse.

Once the break occurs, one's skin begins to suffer as the plastic digs into your legs as you sit down and get back up. 

Therefore, I am very thankful to have my new, wooden, solid toilet seat. An added bonus:  according to the box I can raise and lower the seat 10,000 times before it breaks!

Adventures in a cash economy

 January 15, 2022

One of the interesting adaptations I face here is living in a cash-based economy. In the States, I very rarely carry cash, because I tend to spend it. For some reason, I am more careful when it comes to using my debit card. I pay for most things with a debit card, occasionally use a credit card for online purchases, and pay bills with a check. 

None of those really works here. One pays for everything in cash. Hammer did mention a couple of months ago that he had bought a cell phone on credit (a first for him); and I saw a sign in a store saying that you could pay with your phone, although it also had a picture of a card so I am not sure how that works. For me, paying in cash means a trip to the bank to withdraw money and, even before that, some thinking and planning to see how much I need to withdraw.

During the process of buying my car, Hammer estimated that I would need $8000. Rather than take several days to accumulate that amount through ATM withdrawals, he took me to a bank in Lomé that would cash an American check. It took two trips to the bank to get the money. Our first visit was on a Saturday, a half-day for them. They did not have enough money to give me then, because that is roughly 4,000,000 francs. I say roughly because we figure it based on an exchange rate of 500 CFA to a dollar. I have looked up the actual exchange rate a few times, and it is usually more like 562 CFA to a dollar, but that calculation demands assistance. Hammer had to go back the next Tuesday and collect the rest. For a brief period, I was a millionaire!

There are three ATMs that I visit. One of them will give me 250,000 francs at a time. The one in Vogan will only give me 200,000 francs. However, I usually can re-insert my card and do a second transaction. I haven't tried to do a third, because I don't really want to be withdrawing that much from my account at any one time.

When I go shopping, then, I have to keep a running total of what I have spent and how much I have left so that I am able to pay for everything. This past week I went to Lomé to get a refrigerator. I passed up a couple of things that I wanted/needed because I was afraid that I would not have enough money for the fridge and the voltage regulator and other things I needed. Fortunately, the store gives a 20% discount at the cash register, so I had a big enough cushion for the items that were on my list.

Paying bills highlights another facet of the economy. Many things are paid in advance. The cell phone bill, for example. That is not too odd, we have "pay as you go" cell phones in the States. But the electric bill is another story. The meter tells you how much credit remains. Once that gets, you go to buy more. One can go directly to the power company, CEET. The day I needed to pay, though, was a Sunday so the office was closed. So I went to a kiosque to pay. I took the picture of the meter so that they could see the number on the bar code. Then I told them how much I wanted to spend. The lady entered that information into a cell phone, then wrote down a 16 digit code on a little piece of paper. When I returned to the house, I entered the code on the number pad--well, actually Séna entered it--and voilà, I had credit and electricity again. I bought 20,000 CFA worth and am watching to see how long that will last so that I can figure out a regular payment schedule. The advantage to going to the company is that you get exactly what you pay for. At the kiosque, they take a fee, so I might have only got 18,000 worth. Occasionally they aren't able to sell all that you want. 

My rent also had to be paid in advance--all 6 months of it. Then, since I didn't pay for a year, the homeowner decided I should pay another 6 months as a deposit! 

One final note on paying in cash: coins or smaller bills are much appreciated. That was the case in France as well with francs (showing my age here; the Euro has been around for 20 years) and with Euros. Quite the opposite from what I am used to doing. So when making a largish purchase, such as at the grocery store or the gas station, one tries to collect as many coins and small bills as possible. Thursday afternoon at the grocery store, Karen was supposed to collect 450 francs in change. The cashier asked Karen if she had the coins, claiming not to have the change in her drawer. Karen did not, so the cashier just subtracted the 450 from my bill and told Karen (but not me) that I would give her my change! 

Stay tuned for further adventures!

 When I left for Togo, a friend suggested I set up a Facebook page or blog in order to share my adventures easily. Here we are, four months later, and I am following her suggestion. There is a good reason for the delay, or rather, I have an explanation for it. That will come later. 

The consequences appear in the organization of the content. Since the blog is beginning in media res (as every good epic should, come to think of it), there will be flashbacks and flashes forward. Thoughts that I wrote in the early part of the visit may have changed by the time they get published. 

I hope you enjoy reading of my adventures. Feel free to comment and ask specific questions.

If you are a person of faith, please pray that I will continue in good health and that my work here will prove useful to the growth of God's kingdom!

Thanks.