first impressions...

I’m sitting on the 1st floor of Hostel Mamy’s, a local hotel in Lomé where our training group is staying for the initial training retreat of our PST (pre-service training). It’s the beginning of rainy season and although we were blessed with great weather our first 24 hours, the rain is pouring down hard. It reminds me of monsoon season in India, where the rain comes out of nowhere. Dark clouds roll in and you’d better run for cover or else you’ll be soaked within the next 15 minutes. As we take a break between our intense day of training, some chose to relax with a good book. Others chose to play boggle. I am going to utilize this time to reflect on my first 24 hours in country. I can’t speak for the rest of my training group but here goes…

I don’t really know where to begin. The Peace Corps is something that I have wanted for such a long time that for me to finally be on the African continent was incredibly anti-climactic. I thought I would be a lot more overwhelmed or excited (don’t get me wrong, I am SUPER excited to be here), but I think that I have been building this experience up for so long that my brain still can’t comprehend that I am here. I kind of feel like I’m in vacation mode because we are being transitioned REALLY slowly into the country and I don’t feel stressed. But I can’t believe that I am actually in Africa. This is real I tell myself. I try to pinch myself but it still feels like a dream. I know I should have all these emotions coursing through my body but at the same time something is blocking them all from affecting me at the same time. And I’m scared because that means either one of two things are happening: a) like a funnel, all the built up emotions will eventually rush through me so I can feel it all at a slow rate allowing me to enjoy my experiences here or b) those emotions will build up like water filling up behind a dam and at the most inopportune time the dam will break and I will be so overwhelmed with emotions that I’ll break down. Either way at some point, I will need to feel something. I’m guessing I will finally feel the stress when I am in a situation where I want so badly to express myself completely and can’t due to my limited French speaking skills. But it could happen at another moment during training. Je ne sais pas. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see.

As our flight pulled into Lomé, in the back of my head I had prepped myself with the idea that this can’t be any different than going to India. Although Togo and India are worlds apart in terms of economic development and social norms, I figured that the general environment couldn’t be that much different. I think my mind was just trying to find some mental schema into which I could comprehend what was happening to me. What greeted my five senses was a strange combination of the familiar and the exotic. Now just to clarify, I was definitely not in Kansas anymore so when I say “familiar”, I don’t mean familiar in the American sense. As far as I can tell, there is nothing American about this place (as of yet…). As expected the first thing I felt as I stepped out of the plane was the humidity of Togo. This was expected as that’s usually the first thing I feel when I step out of the plane in Bombay. But there was something missing. Then it hits me, there is no smell. India has this distinct smell that is both pleasantly aromatic and nauseating at the same time. But Togo doesn’t really smell of anything that I can recognize. I smell fresh air. African air. After a fairly un-chaotic shuffle through airport security thanks to the help of the PC administration who met us as we got off the plane we finally loaded our bags into the Peace Corps trucks and headed to Mamy’s for dinner. As we drove through the streets of Lomé, again I had a hard time meshing my mental schema of the streets of Bombay with the roads on which our vehicle was driving through. Much was familiar from the lines of small stores with tin roofs, the street vendors selling fresh fruit and vegetables, and the painted commercials on the free space of all available walls. What was missing to me were the free roaming animals such as cows & buffalos, the beggers on every street corner and the autorickshaws. It was there in the car that I realized, as much as I wanted Togo to be like India, there was no way the two could ever compare, though not out of lack of trying. This is not India. T.I.A. This is Africa.

Quick story: apparently I make a great first impression. As I deplaned with my carry on luggage and took the shuttle bus over to the arrival terminal that was all of 500 meters away, I met up with the rest of my Peace Corps group only to realize that I had left my small REI passport binder on the plane, which had not only all my passports but all my travel documents and free cash as well. As I slightly freaked out to Kim, one of the ladies who met us at the airport, she calmed me down and spoke to several employees who hunted down my binder and returned all my important documents in one piece. That was a huge relief! Don’t worry mom, that travel binder will not be leaving my side for the next two and a half years.

Anyways, the car finally pulled in front of Mamy’s where we were all greeted by several current volunteers. Apparently there was a small party going on and we were the guests of honour. Sweet! The names are a blur as I met several current PCVs from all over the country along with many of the administrators with whom we would be working closely during training. There was Rebekah “Brownie” Lee, our country director; Blandine, our APCD; Stephen, our Safety & Security officer and many more. There was even a feast of Americanized treats: beef on a stick, fried tofu (which actually turned out to be friend Fulani cheese), mini pizzas and cassava fries with some tasty sauces. Our welcome party was fun and it was great to meet current volunteers who could totally relate to the emotions we were going through and also answered tons of our program work-related questions.

Around 10PM, as most of my stage (PC Franglais for our training group, pronounced "stahge") unpacked and took showers to wash away the sweat from the previous 18 hour journey from Philadelphia, Marcus and I decided to join some of the current volunteers for a beer at a bar around the corner. Jetlag hadn’t really affected me too badly so it seemed like a good idea (and it was a very good idea). The bar was a blur as I met TONS of volunteers including Fabiola (I girl I talked to over facebook in Togo) and Tristan & Nadia, whom I had presents for, courtesy of Cameron, a previous volunteer in Togo. All the volunteers were super chill and incredibly nice as they bought us beer and welcomed us to Togo. I took my first taxi ride with some current PCVs to a pretty posh bar in another part of Lomé. I forget what the bar was called (Mandinka?) but since the drink prices were pretty expensive, we headed to a dive bar around the corner and all of us chilled and chatted. I was excited to meet Peter and David, current volunteers up in Kará because Peter went to Maryland and David went to UVA so I have some ACC buddies to hang out with (if anyone can record the GT vs. UNC, GT vs. Maryland, & GT vs. UVA games and mail them to me, you would be a GODSEND! Praying GT comes out on top with our new coach). Anyways, the bar was cool. Chilling with the volunteers was cool. Around 11:30, Marcus and I headed back to crash and prepare for our first official day of the training retreat.

So those are some of my thoughts and impressions of Togo so far. I am barely 24 hours into the country and I am already looking forward to discovering more of this beautiful country.