Sorry for the delay

Sorry it has been so long since my last post, there have been a combination of factors: firstly, the Internet is often out to get me here and makes frequent and successful attempts to thwart my blogging. Also, these first few weeks have been a big adjustment and I found myself in a not-so-good mood many times and did not want to blog in said state. It was difficult saying goodbye to the group of women with whom I had become so close and rather daunting to be moving into a house on my own (for the first time in my life) with no electricity, running water, or furniture. While I am a bikeable distance from Kara my house feels very isolates, and since it gets dark by 7 o'clock here, the evening hours proved hard to handle and I was often sad and lonely. However, my furniture was delivered yesterday - one does not realize how much one misses elevated surfaces until one is forced to live without them for three weeks - and it has made my house feel more like a home. I have been trying to get to know my neighbors and have had several meetings with community members. Outside my house there is a nice little area where I can sit and read and people passing by will stop and sit down and talk with me. I have decided to start making lists of things I want to do each week, which has proved helpful in motivating me and has made me a happier person.
I have decided to devote this blog to terminology that is a regular part of my vocabulary here in Togo but which might mean very little to you if mentioned in passing on a blog:
Bush Taxis: The most common form of transportation throughout Togo. Usually these "Taxis" and broken down Toyotas being held together with duct tape and string. They are standard five-passenger cars, however in Togo, five means ten plus a chicken or two and maybe a goat. You think Im kidding. Many PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers for any of you who may be new to my blog) hate bush taxis, and I can understand why, they are hot, smelly, crowded to say the least, they never leave on time, the drivers can be (insert profanity here), and you never know if you are actually going to make it to your destination before the engine starts smoking. Maybe its because I am new, but I actually quite enjoy the bush taxi experience; granted its no London cab, but it is always an adventure. You never know who or what you are going to meet - the other day I was traveling with a few friends and sharing the cab with two Togolese men, a Togolese woman, her baby and her two live chickens in a bag on the floor. Togolese children always have interesting reactions to us (and by us I mean white people, which is probably politically incorrect, but lets try to move past that shall we?), and many of the younger children will look at us, their faces contorted in terror and begin screaming, crying, and clinging to their mothers with all their might. The first time this happened to me I nearly started crying myself; of course I am aware its not personal, but while I may not be a supermodel, no one has ever mistaken me for a monster before. But back to the bush taxi...the baby in the taxi had a reverse reaction, instead of screaming in terror, this kid could not stop laughing every time he looked at us. And what a laugh he had, high pitched giggles followed by low gurgles. Just as the crying reaction nearly provoked me to tears, this baby's reaction had all of us rolling on the floor (figuratively, seeing as we were crammed into a bush taxi and there was no room to move let alone roll). Despite the heat, the smell, the crowd, the men and the growling engine, I thoroughly enjoyed the ride and laughed until my abs burned.
Fufu: A dietary staple in Togo, Fufu is made by pounding large yams with a huge pestle until they become the consistency of cookie dough. Fufu is served in large balls and eaten with the fingers. Generally fufu is accompanied by a sauce - my favorite being sauce de rachide (peanut sauce). If you can get past the texture, which is a bit slimey, its actually quite good - unless served with gumbo sauce.
Gumbo Sauce: Fondly referred to as "snot sauce" by all PCVs, gumbo sauce is generally flavored with smoked fish (gross) and has the consistency of, well, snot. For some reason this is a staple dish here in Togo, but no matter how well integrated I become (or how hungry), I dont think I will ever be able to bring myself to eat it.
Tatas: Round houses with thatched roofs made of mud and clay. The Tatas are found in the north of Togo and I had my first visit to one last week. The people who live in Tatas are mainly of the Animist religion (voodoo) and therefore the houses are surrounded on the outside with fetishes to represent the ancestors on which sacrifices are performed in their honor. Inside the Tatas there are several rooms, some for grain storage, some for animal storage, a room for cooking, and a room devoted to animism where theyre are more fetishes as well as various animal bones and skulls. Because of the way they are built the Tatas actually remain quite cool. Those who live in the Tatas sleep in, what my friend Kate refers to as "pods," These are very small rooms which have to be entered backwards. In some of the markets they sell small miniatures of the Tatas, which I will buy and bring home to show you.
Markets: Every village has a designated market day and in each region you can find different things. The staples at every market in Togo are onions, tomatoes and yams for making fufu. In the south there is a lot more variety in terms of fruits and vegetables. In most markets you can find oranges and bananas and if you are lucky avocados and mangoes depending on the season. we are in the rainy season now so there is an abundance of fruits and vegetables, we will see what harmattan and the hot season bring.
Harmattan: This is the dusty season which is about to begin, when the winds blow the dust south from the Sahara turning everything brown. I have been told that it is miserably hot during the day, but cool at night. There was also a rumor, and I have no idea if this was made up to scare the new volunteers or not, that every 6 or 7 years the winds also blow in locusts, you know, like the plague in the Bible. Needless to say, I am hoping for the made-up-to-scare-me option...someone google that for me will ya?

OK well I am out of internet time and out of vocab for the moment. As always I miss and love all of you dearly and and always thrilled to read you comments and questions. I would also like to thank all of you who have sent me birthday packages, those I have received have been wonderful. Take care and until next time.