Everything changed today. Our stage moved out of Lomé (pronounced Low-mey) and are now living in a city about an hour away by car called Tsévié. Let me recap the day.
I woke up this morning at 6:30. Lunch was at 7 and then we had the next 4 hours to pack and relax and enjoy the remaining time we had as a group. You could tell that the vibe between us stagieres was a mixture of excitement, nervousness and hesitation. I had gotten used to always having people around who spoke English. My French is pretty weak so it was nice to be able to look to others around me and have them translate anything I didn’t understand, but I knew this wasn’t going to last forever and today the reality of the finally set in.
At noon, we drove away from our hotel and ventured outside of the 8 or so blocks we had been confined to for the past 3 days. It was nice to see a little of the rest of Lomé, as the area we had been in was mainly residential. We passed markets and gas stations and, as we began to leave Lomé, greenery. Lots of grass and trees and agriculture (such as corn). We arrived at the Tech house in Lomé and had to say goodbye to the 13 CHAP stagieres who were headed to their town, Gbatopé. And then there were 10.
We gathered in one area as our home stay families gathered in another. Once everyone had arrived, we entered this giant gazebo-like area and sat down. You could tell how excited everyone was. One by one we stood up and said our name and then a member of our new family would come and “claim” us and everyone would cheer. Then came the dancing. It’s kind of hard to describe but essentially everyone walked around in a circle and swayed to the rhythm of the drums. The next song, only a few women danced along and the rest watched. Me, in an attempt to bond with my new family, said “Je besoin aprender danser” or “I would like to learn to dance”, meaning someday in the next 2 months I would like them to teach me, but, of course, that translated into my host mom telling them to play another song and my sister grabbing me and teaching me to dance… just the two of us… in front of everyone (did I mention that there were also 4 village chiefs present who very official looking). It was actually a lot fun and I think everyone enjoyed my impromptu public dance lesson and it even led into another song where everyone got up and joined me.
After the brief meet and greet, we packed up the bus and drove to my new home. I am with a very nice family named Teko-Agbo. There’s the mom (34) and the dad (48), and their daughter, Akouve (26), although she doesn’t live here with us. I got the impression that she’ll be around a lot though, especially since they realized how bad my French actually is and Atouve speaks some English so it’s easiest for me to communicate with her for right now. Mama’s* sister-in-law also lives with us. Her name is Afi (21) and she’s currently very pregnant. I wouldn’t be surprised if she has the baby sometime before I leave. We talked for a little bit about our families and then I went to unpack my things. It’s so nice to know I won’t be having to move again for at least 2 months. I hate the whole living out of 3 different bags. It’s not fun.
After I unpacked, I ventured out of my chambre (yay for having my own room!) and attempted to ask if there was anything I could do to help mama prepare dinner. Of course, what came out of my mouth didn’t make any sense. Atouve wasn’t there so I stood hopeless as mama, papa and Afi jointly tried to comprehend what I was saying. Eventually, Atouve came back and all was good. They all announced together that I could help by watching mama prepare dinner. I grabbed a notebook, pen and French/English dictionary and proceeded to learn a few words. This included louche (spoon), crevette (shrimp), goût (taste), rire (to laugh) and jumeau (twin). The word twin came up because there was a boy and a girl who were hanging out in our compound. They’re 7 and are named Florentine and Florentaine (not sure of the spelling but you get the drift). Florentine would just stare at me and when I would look back she’d smile and look away. She’s very cute.
I need to go to bed so I’m going to end this here, but I would like to add that I have about 8 mosquito bites on my legs and feet and I have only seen one mosquito, which I killed. Mosquitos here have somehow mastered the art of both invisibility and skillful attack strategies. Don’t worry mom and dad, I sleep under a net, wear bug spray and take my malaria pills diligently. I have no desire to catch malaria while I’m here.
Bon nuit!
*From here on out, when I refer to mama and papa, it’s in reference to my host mom and host dad, just so not to confuse them with my American mom and dad.
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