The Wandering Nautilus

I call her “Nabu”, and she is my 7 year-old host sister.  She is the oldest of the siblings here and therefore takes on most of the responsibilities of the household.  At the tender age of 7, she often carries around her (rather rotund) host brother Ibrahim, 2, on her back.  Have you ever seen an ant carry a blade of grass? Yeah, it kind of looks like that.  Nabu is a dancer by nature.  At any given moment, sans music, she will be dancing.  When you see her demure smile paired with her charmingly erratic gestures of pure joy, you laugh, then you dance too. 

Let me hold that for you. 

This is a video I made for Camp Eco-Action, a one-week environmental camp in Togo, West Africa which I will be organizing next year.  As an education volunteer, I don’t get to play in the dirt as much as I would like.  Problem solved. 

Let me shear you then spin me a yarn #sheepish (at Connemara)

Not #downtonabbey but not too #shabby (at Kylemore Abbey)

Seriously #Ireland if you keep this up I'm not going to leave (at Connemara National Park)

My furry little village companion.  When I was younger, I had an uncontrollable love of animals - however perhaps bitterness and a jaded disposition on innocence has come with my cantankerous old age, but as soon as I saw this little guy in a friend's compound all of those thoughts were drowned out by a voice in my head saying "but look at his little ears!" Thusly, a friendship was forged.  Huxley's current hobbies include: chasing chickens around the compound, gnawing on wood, frolicking in the garden (pictured above), and climbing up my skirt (also pictured above).  

Stay tuned.  

Meet Fafa, the niece of my host mother in Kpalimé, Togo.  Every morning when I walked to the shower faucet to brush my teeth, Fafa would be standing there wiping the sleep from her eyes and holding her shirt out to me.  Understanding my cue, I grabbed the shirt, held up her arms and pulled it over her head.  All of this transpires without a word and we each go on with our days but this ritual brought me great comfort because she was fearless of me, of my presence and immediately made me feel like a part of the family.  

There have been many great moments thus far as well as many heartbreaking moments of realizing my privilege and the kind of life the people here value because of the Western world's influence. Small moments of victory like purchasing tomatoes in the local language (Ikposso for my village) punctuate my perpetual cultural haze.  I think I am already experiencing something profound but I'll be damned if I'm going to admit it yet.  

Stay crafty. Those who know me know I knit often. Frequently, rapidly, and sometimes shamelessly. As the departure for Togo approaches, people assumed that I will no longer be knitting under the hot African sun. However this is some spun linen I purchased in order to knit up some cooler garments overseas. How can one resist the satisfaction of crafting in a foreign environment? Perhaps it will even open the door to new hobbies like fabric dying or wood carving. Although I think my favorite hobby over there might become hiding from the sun.

And the strange thing is - I cannot wait to make those missteps.