Two Days in Togo

I have to admit, I’m typing this after polishing off my first Togolese beer, which is closer to 40 oz. than it is to 16. This evening, a PCV stationed in Lome came to our hotel to welcome us and was generous enough to bring a 12-pack with him. But let me back up.

Wednesday morning, all 49 of us checked out of our hotel, and boarded a couple of coach buses bound for New York – a really fun opportunity to get a last look at New Jersey, the motherland. (The turnpike is a great last view of the USA, right?). After a few hours on the road, we arrived at JFK only to discover we had to wait until 4 hours before our flight to check in. Cripes.

We lolled around inside this sea of suitcases until it was time to check in. Finally, after a full six hours in JFK, we boarded our plane to Brussels.

If you’ve ever wondered about the moment when the full effect of what I was doing hit me, this was it. Taking off in New York was when it really set in.

Of course, we still had to deal with more than a full day of travel before it actually was real. Brussels Airlines was comfortable, but six and a half hours on a plane was not. Neither was the nine hour layover in Belgium. My brother Daniel promised me the best chocolate of my life in that airport, but all I could find was a Toblerone (not that I’ll knock that). Some of us did find opportunity to nap – though our layover lasted the morning in Belgian time, it was still the middle of the night for our internal clocks.

We had one plane ride left – a 10-hour doozy to Lome, with a quick pit stop in Cote d’Ivoire to pick up a handful of passengers. Brussels Airlines came through, with free scotch and ice cream and the seventh season of Friends, but it was still a relief to hear the (trilingual) announcement cuing our final descent.

Pumped full of jetlag and some serious all-nighter adrenaline, we were hustled into the Presidential Suite at the Togolese airport, where we sorted out customs and visas, and were given a much needed liter of water.

Finally, we were able to grab our bags from the tarmac and load ourselves onto busses. This 1:00 AM swatch of pavement was my first, dark, exhilarating view of Togo. Palm trees, and a cockroach I accidentally crushed under my 50-pound suitcase.

For our three-day orientation, Peace Corps has put us up in a little place called Amy’s hotel. The food is great, and we eat it in the open-air veranda that is the first floor. Our rooms are no Holiday Inn, but they’re first class compared to what I expect we have to come. Zoe, Jess, and I are in a triple with running water and a complementary stand-fan (though I do wish the bathroom door in our room would stay closed on its own).

There’s a second-floor covered patio with tables and chairs, and a really gorgeous view of the trees and dirt roads of Lome. Relaxing up there in the evening breeze is nice after a humid day in the 80’s.

We spend the days of our orientation at the Peace Corps compound in the city. I’ve met tons of medical, administrative, and program staff, both Togolese and American. The day is chock full of attending safety sessions, getting additional shots, and choosing a Malaria prophylactic that’s right for me. Tomorrow, I’ll take my French placement exam that will determine the level at which I’ll start my language training.

And the nights are beautiful. The occasional car drives by, noise echoes in from an outdoor movie playing next door, and children wave up at us as we look out over the city. We’ve got cold beer and new friends  - sounds good to me.