Racism

I have never in my life experienced racism, like I have here in Togo. It's not the typical kind of racism I'm used to hearing about, especially in Georgia, but it is the textbook definition of racism. I can't go to the bank, catch a bus or attend a meeting without being called aside to sit separately from everyone else. I have to pay more than the general population for most everything I buy. Every time I walk through the city or my village I can expect to hear "Yovo" or "Ansara" (white person) or "Metisse" (mixed) called out by children and adults alike.  The thing is though, that it's not meant maliciously, and even though it is racism, it's the opposite of what you would normally expect. People call me out on the street because they want to talk to me or be my friend, because they think I can take them to America and give them gifts. If I'm waiting in line for something or at a meeting, people want me to sit separately because they want me to have the best seat, shielded from the sun. It's their idea of a nice gesture, but I hate that they only want to do it because of my skin color. I have to pay more for everything I buy because if I'm "white," that means I have money. And to most Togolese, I am white, because I'm not African. The truth is, I do have more money than the majority of people I see on a daily basis. The money the Peace Corps gives me to live each month, is supposed to put me on the same level as the people I'm working with, but the reality is that a lot of these people live in poverty, in conditions that I wouldn't be able to live in. I can afford to pay the extra money they tack on to everything, but I hate doing it. I get frustrated with all of it, when here I am living in a Togolese village, working with the community, speaking your language, trying to integrate, and I get separated out for being different. I've actually considered wearing a burka once I can speak well enough Kotokoli to get by, just so people wouldn't notice I'm not Togolese and I could be treated the same. 

I'm in Lome right now, on medical leave, because I burned my leg on the exhaust pipe of a moto, and it started getting infected. As I was leaving my village, I had a fever and I just wasn't feeling well and I'm trying to make a 6-7 hour trip to Lome. There's a guy in my village who says he'll take me to the main road for free if I wanna try to find a moto-taxi there. I thank him and we head off. As we're getting to the main road he tells me he'll ask the guys there to find me a moto-taxi off the street and it should be 1000 CFA to get to where I'm going. So as I'm waiting here in this hut with these guys, they start talking about me in Kotokoli. Now, I don't know enough Kotokoli yet to have a conversation in it, but I can pick things up here and there. They're discussing between themselves, where they think I'm from, and just referring to me as "Ansara". I knew they all spoke French, and they could have easily just asked me where I was from or asked me my name. But, they decide I'm from somewhere in Europe and go on to discuss the Peace Corps-issued moto-helmet I'm carrying around. They're guessing how much money I paid for it, and assume I brought it with me from the place in Europe I came from. I'm not really in the mood to try to jump in this conversation with them though, so I just ignore them. One of them calls over a moto driver, and before the moto driver says anything to me, one of them tells him in Kotokoli he should ask me for 3000 CFA for the ride. I caught this, and now I'm pissed off at these guys. I tell them 3000 CFA is too much and the moto driver says 2000 CFA. I say that I know the price to get there is 1000, I was just told that. "But you have money," they say, "Where are you from?" "America," I tell them, "But I'm a volunteer here, and I'm living and working in a village just up the road. I'm trying to live the same as you guys," I say. One of them responds, "Well, if you're not getting any money here, you should have your family send you more money from America." Ugh, this is a pointless argument. I end up paying 1500 CFA.

Another situation, a couple of weeks ago. I meet some guy in a boutique in Sokode. I ask him if he knows somewhere I can find a dog, and he insists on accompanying me for the whole day all through the market. He asks me to marry him, and he buys me a live chicken. This is normal. I tell him I'm not interested in getting married. So, we're sitting at this bar as I'm waiting to meet up with another volunteer, and he's badgering me about why I won't marry him. "You're just afraid of Africans, that's why," he says. "My mom is Ghanaian," I tell him, "Besides, I was the one who chose to live here in Africa, that doesn't make any sense." 

Him: "So you're gonna marry a Togolese then?" 

Me: "I might if I find a Togolese person I like." 

Him: "Me, I want to marry a metisse (mixed person)." 

Me: "Why?" 

Him: "I just like them more, and I could never marry a white person, they're all racist." 

Me: "How do you think metisses are made?" 

He didn't get it.

Stuff like this happens all the time, and it's frustrating, but I put up with it. Despite, all the frustrations, Togo is an amazing place. For every bit of bad I experience, there is so much more good. My village is full of the most welcoming and generous people, despite the fact that they can't remember my name. For one thing, I know that as much as they call me out and separate me from the group, people here almost never have malicious agendas. There is a pervasive idea here that whites are superior to Africans and they have to give outsiders better treatment. I just try to dissuade the idea. I tell people about my family, having a mother from Ghana and a father from Hungary. I tell them that the U.S. is a big mix of people and races who live together, and it doesn't matter what color your skin is. And, I try to fit into their community the best I can. But really, I'm just afraid that after anything I do, after living here for 2 years, I'll just be another "Ansara" to them. I've been in my village for almost a month, and the half of the people who actually call me something besides Ansara regularly confuse my village name, Rukiyah, with Aisha. Why Aisha? She was the last white girl in my village.

The pictures aren't really related, they're just my most recent ones.

all of the CHAP volunteers in our stage

Limbo with our host families and trainers

My host family wearing all the UGA gear I gave them as gifts on my last day with them

Go Dawgs!

My new puppy Dutch and the massive bone I found for him at the market

Me and my boy in village