Kira Without Borders

Let there be LIGHT!

2011-10-18T09:47:00.000-07:00

As of October 17th, 2011 there is now electricity powering computers and lights at FECECAV's offices in Wome and Kpadape. Amoussokope is next, and should be completed with the next few weeks. Next comes training and presentations on how the systems work and how to take care of them - aka, please do not plug a refridgerator and/or AC unit into the battery bank. This will be a theme moving forward in 2012.

"I happened to walk up eight before they turned on the system (in Kpadape) and everyone was huddled around the one exterior light, and when it came on everyone cheered and danced. It was one of the bes tthings I've seen working on this project so far." - Ashley Lewis, PCV and Field Ops. Manager

"C'etait avec la joie que j'ai appris qu'il y a de la lumiere a Wome et Kpadape!" ("It was with joy that I learned that there was light in Wome and Kpadape!")- Daniel Barondibou, CEO, FECECAV

When Togo Gives You Lemons...

2011-10-11T08:29:00.000-07:00

...SunPower Afrique makes lemonade! This year's project started with an unpredicted and lengthy delay of our container's delivery to the Port of Lome. Ultimately the container arrived nearly a month late and missed our engineer, Dave Staller, in Togo completely. However, equipment has arrived and installations are currently going on!

Our ever-present Field Manager, Peace Corps Volunteer Ashley Lewis, continues to handle general operations and has now perfected the art of negotiating shipping containers through Togolese customs. Until next year of course. Our technicians Koffi and Aminou were well prepped by Dave and Ron Celentano, SunPower Afrique's lead system designer, and are handling project management and installation on their own. Ultimately, making lemonade Togo-style to me translates to real sustainability.

Although there was no equipment on the ground, Dave's time in Togo ended up being very well spent and his contribution to SunPower Afrique was invaluable. With Ron's assistance via email, Dave made some important adjustments to the settings of the inverter installed last year. Several things have taken place over the last year without our knowledge - including new electrical equipment installed at the utility interconnection, a lightning strike on Kpalime's main transformer and an additional AC unit installed on FECECAV's roof - and we continue to teach Koffi and Aminou how to troubleshoot the Outback Inverter and perfect the system's operation.

Dave prepared Aminou and Koffi for the 3 off-grid installations at the Wome, Kpadape and Amoussokope FECECAV office and constructed teak racking and other tasks possible with local materials/items not in the container.

Together with Ashley, Dave gained an important perspective into SunPower Afrique's mission and its implementation. Since his return, the 3 of us have had important conversations about the strengths and weaknesses of SunPower Afrique's operations. The result is a back-to-basics approach, a revisiting of the business plan and budget and exciting plans for partnerships that will finally bring about the launch of the Solar Loan Program. In addition to the technical/construction contributions Dave made to SunPower Afrique, his input on how-to-do-what-we-are-doing-better may be the most important thing he has given this organization.

Photos of completed projects and future plans to come. SunPower Afrique must also reiterate our thanks to SIDI and Emmanuel Beau, for the financial support that made these projects happen and their belief in our mission.

SunPower Afrique 2011: It Takes A Village

2011-08-02T09:57:00.000-07:00

We’re at it again! In less than a month, the SunPower Afrique team will return to Togo to install 3 more solar installations for FECECAV offices. This time around we are equipping 3 unelectrified (off-grid), rural branches of the microcredit bank with solar electricity. All 3 installations are in villages that currently have no access to electricity, and our projects will represent progress not only for FECECAV but for the entire community.

Reinforcement and sustainability are the themes of this year’s projects. The installers that we trained last year, Aminou Moussa and Koffi Dzotsi, will be the foremen on the installation, with design, procurement and project management provided by SunPower Afrique. It has taken a committed, passionate and essential network of partners to get here.

Here is SunPower Afrique 2011’s Indispensable Cast of Characters:

SIDI & All of our donors
The French development agency SIDI (www.sidi.fr) has believed in SunPower Afrique for several years. An existing partner with FECECAV, SIDI provided the lion’s share of funding for 2011’s installations, and is working with us and with FECECAV to develop solar loan programs. SIDI supports renewable energy programs in several other countries. Merci Emmanuel Beau pour votre contributions a nos projets et nos visions.

A tremendous thank you to the many individuals that also continue to contribute to SunPower Afrique’s work. We can’t do it without you! We're continually fundraising for future projects, easy donations through FirstGiving now available, check it out: http://www.firstgiving.com/fundraiser/kira-costanza/kiracostanza?fge=update

David Staller, NABCEP Certified Solar Installer, Project Engineer
Dave’s and my motto is “Timing is Everything.” Dave has supported SunPower Afrique, from the very beginning, and I am thrilled to have him involved in a more tangible way this summer. Dave has worked in the solar industries in PA, NJ and NY and is a talented designer and project manager. He became available to travel to Togo earlier this summer and I snapped him up immediately! His experience with Engineer’s Without Borders (including leadership positions and prior travel to Africa) make him a perfect candidate and he has already far exceeded my expectations.

Janelle Stauff , Sunelco Solar Inc., System Design & Procurement
My daily email harassment does not seem to faze Janelle, another NABCEP Certified solar professional assisting with SunPower Afrique’s 2011 projects. Sunelco Solar Inc., based in beautiful Montana, was incredibly helpful in finalizing system designs for all 3 installations. Janelle worked tirelessly with me to ensure that every single breaker, battery cable and temperature sensors made it into the correct boxes and into the shipping container. Janelle also provided all of the module layout and wiring diagrams for the installations. Her suggestions and design assistance contributed immensely to what the final designs look like, and was always cheerful and patient with my sometimes hyper stressed (imagine that…) questions and requests.

Ashley Lewis, US Peace Corps Volunteer, Official Partner & Field Manager
For the past year, Ashley Lewis has been a central part of SunPower Afrique project development. Serving as a liaison between myself and the many other moving parts on both sides of the ocean, Ashley manages logistics, partnerships and “crisis” as our Boots on the Ground. She manages everything from reviewing contracts with FECECAV staff and ensuring that customs paperwork has been filed and to arranging transportation and hotel rooms. It’s the little things…Ashley’s endless patience and dedication is unparalled and there is no question that we would not be here without her.

Roger Locke, SolarWorld, Module Donation
A figure of support in my life in many ways, Roger Locke has been an important advocate for SunPower Afrique within the solar industry. This year Roger worked with SolarWorld, for whom he managed accounts and sales for years (SolarWorld is one of the original solar panel manufacturers and integrators – 30 years of experience! www.solarword-usa.com) to secure a module donation for SunPower Afrique. Arguably the most important piece of equipment for our projects, Roger made our budget a reality and an indelible footprint on SunPower Afrique’s list of contributors. Roger has also donated his daughter Amanda :)

Amanda Locke, Photographer
I was introduced to Amanda in 2010, and she has stuck with her commitment to participate in SunPower Afrique’s projects through delays and changes in plans over the past year. Amanda is a photographer and artist, and will be documenting SunPower Afrique’s existing successes, new projects and social impact of solar and microfinance. We cannot wait to see her work!
THE REGULARS

Koffi & Aminou, Installers
SunPower Afrique’s Togolese solar installers are the heart of our work. Well trained and passionate about their work, Aminou and Koffi have kept the Kpalime system running, checking battery levels and inverter readings throughout the year. They have also been developing their own businesses and their happiness to be a part of the budding Togolese solar industry inspires me every day.

FECECAV, Field Partner
Daniel, Novinyo, the Directeurs of CECAV Wome, CECAV Amoussokope and CECAV Kpadape (the 3 “recipients” of solar installations) are why we do what we do. Can’t wait until all of FECECAV's offices are covered in solar. And can’t wait to see what a difference these projects make for FECECAV offices that have never had computers or lightbulbs…

Ron Celentano, Engineer & Consultant
Our rock. Always knows the PV design answer. Always knows what to look for. Always supportive. Always cares. SunPower Afrique loves you and is forever grateful to you Ron (as are many others – for example, the PA Solar Industry…) Ron designed and oversaw the FECECAV grid-tied PV system installation in Kpalime last year, and was the lead designer on our current projects. If anyone needs a consultant/guru for solar design, commissioning, advocacy or other solar work, email Ron (celentanor@aol.com). You will not be disappointed.

Kira Costanza, Executive Director
My role in 2011 is a bit different. While my management of the organization, project development, fundraising and cultivation of partnerships and other Executive Director duties have not changed (and never will!) I will not be physically traveling to Togo with the team this summer. While somewhat difficult, yet ultimately the best course of action for many reasons, I am fully confident in this SunPower Afrique village. I miss mon deuxieme pays, my friends, the sounds and smells, my favorite plat du fufu and so much more… I hope to be back soon.

Stay tuned for project updates and photos from SunPower Afrique Togo Installs 2011. We love our work!

We No Longer Speak of Electricity Cuts at FECECAV

2011-02-01T07:55:00.001-08:00

The staff at FECECAV's HQ in Kpalime "ne parlent plus de coupure." That was the idea! In addition, Daniel let me know in a recent email that "les factures ont sensiblement baissé" - electric bills have gone down. This is great news, and means that the solar panels are producing enough power to offset FECECAV's usage in a significant way.

Updates:

Aminou is dilligently maintaining the system's batteries, but recently had to go to Lome to find more distilled water! SunPower Afrique continues to provide Aminou with the financial support he needs to purchase such maintenance supplies, as well as compensation for his labor.

Ashley, PCV extraordinaire, has become a critical field partner for SunPower Afrique. Over the past several months Ashley has kept on-the-ground operations moving forward and coordinating between myself, our technicians, FECECAV and other partners. We are so grateful to have her as an official field partner!

We are developing several additional projects in Togo, outside of the microfinance scope, as enthusiasm for solar continues to spread, and hope to have some work for Aminou, Koffi and their teams this year. This will be in addition to the installations SunPower Afrique will be carrying out in June/July 2011. We plan these 3 rural installations at the one-year anniversary of the pilot project, in collaboration with SIDI. These branches, devoid of any current power source, will embody SunPower Afrique's mission, and we are excited to make them happen this year.

Momentum!

2010-07-20T07:04:00.001-07:00

Recent press...gearing up for 3 more installs in December...new partners...strategic planning for continuing fundraising, expanding our reach and achieving our next goals.

I received an excited phone call from Kpalime the other day - power had been down for almost an entire day. And FECECAV had electricity :)

The Times Herald - Sunday June 18th, 2010

http://www.montgomerynews.com/articles/2010/07/19/montgomery_life/news/doc4c4337074086a085563821.txt

Official Site of the Republic of Togo - Sunday June 18th, 2010
http://www.republicoftogo.com/Toutes-les-rubriques/Economie/Le-solaire-debarque-a-Kpalime

Pilot Project in Pictures

2010-07-08T08:11:00.001-07:00

Back in Amerique, Expectations Abound

2010-07-04T09:14:00.000-07:00

Almost like clockwork, my return from Togo is accompanied by astonishment and feeling completely overwhelmed with the demanding, fast-paced atmosphere of the States (or as Greg Mortenson calls it in Three Cups of Tea, "Jet lag. Culture Shock. Whatever you call the demons of dislocation." - AMAZING BOOK by the way, I am just about done reading it.)

...This time it felt different.

It is hard to put in to words, but in many ways, my life has more significance when I am in Togo, completely focused on the development of SunPower Afrique, the expansion of its programs, new partnerships and projects, wading through the constant struggle with bureaucracy and authority that is neccesary for success. Making a difference with so many people that need and appreciate me. On the East Coast of the United States, I am forever caught up in capitalism and running a business, time consuming and aimed almost entirely at making money. This, of course, required for survival and living life in America. And without it, SunPower Afrique's Pilot Project would never have happened.

Also, the past 2.5 weeks were completely nonstop. Rushing to get both the system installed and all "activites officiels" taken care of, I didn't slow down the entire time, neither did Ron and Jon. We are all exhausted! But the work does not stop here, it only grows along with expectations and plans, and the frustration with being unable to devote 100%, being far away and how quickly time flies, is growing!

The entire FECECAV community and Kpalime officials are , and people are talking about solar energy. In the next few weeks, we will sign contracts with FECECAV and its branches on the final terms of the Solar Loan Program and the repayment of the loan from SunPower Afrique for 50% of the cost of its solar system. We will also keep a close eye on system performance through our trained technicians, and assign a test to all 11 memebers of our Solar Team will be required for certification. In typical Togolese custom of course, tests will be given to "les patrons" to take for a certification of the team. The apprentices will not receive individual certifications just yet, regardless of their competence...we'll get there.

SunPower Afrique has also solidified a partnership with a French development agency, already a partner of FECECAV, to finance 3 more installations on CECAVs throughout the plateau region. I hope that these projects will be underway in early 2011 at the latest. The projected locations are rural branches who do not have any access to electricity without the use of generators when funds/fuel are available: Amoussokope, Danyi and Wome.

I am also thrilled to have a new partner on the ground, in a Microfinance Consultant named Ashley (whom I met at the Chicago Microfinance Conference), who has agreed to work with SunPower Afrique during a 2-year volunteer program she has just begun.

My head is swimming with all of the next steps and loose ends, and what is waiting for me on Tuesday AM at the office (yikes.) SunPower is becoming a fast-moving train, I hope that I can continue keep up with it!

Happy 4th of July. 234 years. Togo is celebrating its 50th year of independence from France this year, posters and billboards in Lome announcing its arrival. We all have so far to go...

Mahemava -
Kira

24-28 June - L’Installation!

2010-06-28T04:42:00.001-07:00

I have no words…I cannot put sentences together…Joyous unloading of the container, FECECAV employees, solar technicians, SunPower Afrique. Nothing broken! By far the most popular item for our solar team was the radio Jon brought, which they immediately turned on and began dancing to those contagious West African beats, squealing with delight. All smiles at our American equipment and electrical supplies, and after the customs inspection, we got right to work.

Thursday we organized ourselves and starting mounting racking. This was the most invasive and noisy part of the installation, requiring small holes drilled through FECECAV’s thick concrete roof to bolt down the teak racks. Some FECECAV employees immediately freaked at the thought of collapsing roofs, unruly electricity coming down from the roof, the "smell" of batteries...showcasing the biggest challenge for the expansion of a solar industry in Togo, one we will have to combat head on and defeat with education if this dream is to suceed: lack of knowledge and understanding. Funny that the same ignorance exists in the US.

Our team took turns with the electric hammer drill, thrilled and engaged. They are so animated and hard-working, I will never be able to describe enough my pride and how fond I am of these boys. I will post videos and pictures when I have a better internet connection, as everyone in the world should share in this sheer delight.

Saturday and Sunday we pulled wires.

Today we are connecting batteries and installing ground wire, this afternoon we will run AC wiring to the meter and prepare for interconnection.

All installation techniques reinforced the electrical design and knowledge gained in training – once again I translated to French from Ron and Jon’s English (I am completely exhausted of talking...never thought I'd say that haha...if there are any professional translators out there reading this, I salute you), spotted throughout of course with my joking and laughing with my crew in Ewe. Me also loving every minute. I am unaccountably happy :)

This Thursday will be the grand unveiling. A Togolese PV system commissioning. The mayor will be there, the radio, all of FECECAV and my solar team.

Le vrai lancement de SunPower Afrique au Togo!

More to come…

Money Was Talking

2010-06-28T04:31:00.000-07:00

24 June 2010

At 6AM Ron and I moto-ed to the Lomé station and jammed into a taxi, half filled with Kola nuts, on a mission to pick up the container from the port and bring it back to Kpalimé. After a stop in Keve, where it was market day and both sides of the road were lined with colorful stacks pagnes, women hawking platters full of peanuts and dried fish and general Togolese mayhem, we arrived in Lomé.

In Adidogome, the quartier of the Lomé FECECAV office where we were to meet Novinyo and the area in which the riots and mayhem of the past few days was the most “chaud” (hot), we saw blackened pavement and piles of tires on the side of the road, a large police presence, and the remnants of the protests…but as the taxi driver explained, the trouble makers had slipped back into the shadowy corners of Lomé, once again defeated by batons and tear gas.

We went directly to the Maersk office, expecting to head directly to the port. And thus began one of the most frustrating days of my life in Togo. Occasionally I have times such as this, where I wonder why I bother, discouraged and frustrated, conquered and overwhelmed…it is always washed away by the encouragement of my partners and my belief in what I do and the impact of SunPower Afrique, but this is not easy. For the second time on official business in Lomé, a few tears fell.

I learned from our “partners” at Maersk that my papers were not at all in order. I was made aware that SunPower Afrique has only touched the tip of the iceberg in procuring the necessary authorizations and licenses to carry out our import-export and official business in Togo. I was stunned and furious at the lies and secrecy. Again.

I need about 4 more critical documents. No one told me, no one gave me information, no one thought to share these essential procedures. However Simon and his colleagues at Maersk promised to navigate the treacherous and ravenous customs whitewater to get my container out that day. It was only later in the day when Novinyo realized what Simon had muttered under his breath in Ewe after this promise – “You will pay dearly…” He told us he would call when the container was on the truck and ready to depart.

They didn’t tell me before so that they could claim they are “doing me favors,” for which they are of course to be compensated. Same with the Ministry of Decentrealization, who also did not impart any of this information, but also for reasons of sheer misunderstanding of their own government’s procedures…I have a knack for timing. Since this year’s elections, no one knows where anything is anymore…ministers have changed and arbitrarily moved their offices and changed staff to surround themselves with their “associates.” In addition, since the government is now decentralized (since 2005, when Eyadema’s death forced the changeover from dictatorship to multi-party democracy) each ministry carry out licensures and approvals themselves. The result: I end up doing the same thing 8 times, as each ministry is entitled to their own lists of required documents, fees and examination. Stamps and bargains at every one. The inefficiency (and other things which I cannot write on this blog, as I am even now unsuccessfully trying to be politically correct and inoffensive…) is astonishing.

After traveling to at least 5 offices, (including one where the secretary hated me from the moment I walked in the door for whatever reason, refused to make eye contact with me and, when I placed the list I had received at the previous office – a different Ministry – in front of her, innocently, honestly!, asking if it was the same, she starting shrieking at me and asked Novinyo why the hell I was shoving papers in her face from a different department…) Novinyo pulled me aside after this visit. He told me my behavior was unacceptable, I need to shut my mouth, let him do the talking and understand that when I show documents from other offices and demand answers, the perception is that I am insulting them and telling them that they don’t know how to do their job. He then asked me if I had received a Quote from Maersk. This was where the tears came.

For nearly 6 months I have demanded this from Simon. He refused to answer and finally, when I copied my contacts in NY and his big boss, told me that I would receive this upon my arrival. Assuming this was normal procedure I accepted. When I told Novinyo I did not yet have anything except an $800 quote for trucking to Kpalimé (which he cried was ludicrous) he starting screaming. They are going to rob you!! How did you not tell me this?! If you have no quote they can do whatever they want!! They are going to steal everything from us!! I am your representative!! You HAVE to tell me these things Kira!! I felt like a naïve yovo, the worst feeling in the world, a bad partner, and a complete idiot…I also realized that Novinyo is a very special person. He helps me more than anyone else, taking days off from work to drive me around Lomé, negotiate for my documents and support SunPower Afrique. It was at this moment, when he told me I should have told him about the lack of a quote, that I realized how I can rely on him, and how he wants me to rely on him. I am so lucky. He told me to stop my crying immediately. I did my best.

Simon called. The container is on the truck. Come to the office, pay us, and get instructions. Sitting comfortably in the chilly AC of the office, they placed an invoice of $6000 in front of me. I truly thought I might throw up. Panicked, I looked at Novinyo and he warned me to be quiet with his eyes. I did just that. I won’t go into the details of the negotiations, as it is not well-advised for me to write this here, except to say that Novinyo is an expert, a hero and I believe that we embarrassed them into bringing down their fees (although I never did and probably never will get the itemized list I asked for for the “customs fees,” Simon telling me this is an “internal document.”) I somehow persuaded them to let me pay the ocean freight to DAMCO when I return to the states (honestly because I forgot to send the check before I left…it is sitting on my desk…) and, since it was after 5, I couldn’t go to the bank and withdraw the deposit of $3000. I proimised to come back with it next week and realized that somehow I managed to walk out without paying anything…

We then went to the port. Novinyo knew someone at the gate and managed to get us inside, and I felt like a fugitive, ducking between the massive trucks that travel up and down the Route National carrying palm oil and supplies to Burkina Faso, Mali and Niger. Ron and I also breathed in enough exhaust and dust to last a lifetime…the port is a bustling place, gritty and loud, dangerous and severe. I couldn't help but notice all of the qir conditioned SUVs full of yovos driving in and out...import-export opportunists preying on the West African market...gross...

Three hours and 11 stamps later (not kidding…) we piled into the massive 1970s Mercedes and pounded our way to Kpalimé in the black African night. We were stopped 6 times along the way for more customs inspections and “fees” and arrived in front FECECAV at 11:45pm. Since a customs agent is required to be present when the container is unloaded, we decided to wait until the morning (they were all sleeping in a sodabi-induced stupor) and, exhausted, collapsed at Petite Suisse.

Last night my friend Yao (FECECAV’s chauffeur with the piercing black eyes and enormous hands that immediately swallow both of mine when they meet – I wrote a lot about him in 2008 if you recall :) ) and I had a beer on the roof of Petite Suisse. Yao spent time in Ghana and does not speak very good French, so understanding his hastily constructed Ewe-French-Ghanaian English phrases is always a challenge. I recounted the saga of getting the container out of the port, and, 20 minutes later, after much tongue clicking and head shaking, he looked at me smiling.

“Oh Togo, Togo,” he said, “Money was talking.”

La Formation (Training) & Preparation for the Pilot Install

2010-06-23T11:33:00.000-07:00

The first morning of our technician training was the most difficult. It is an extremely delicate balance for Ron, full of challenges. Our training takes place on the roof of Petite Suisse without a projector, instead we have our 3 laptops set up at intervals of a long table and an enormous easel with paper, on which I write important notes in French from Ron’s English powerpoint slides and explanations. I have learned so much…series connections, short circuit voltages (or, now I know, the lack thereof), Ohm’s Law, system sizing…and I have to understand it in order to explain it in another language from Ron’s sometimes overcomplicated (for those of you who know him and his detail-oriented brilliance…) descriptions. My patience here in Togo continues to stun me, as usual – I really wish I could take some of it back with me to the US but it never happens…

To his chagrin, I am constantly slowing Ron down, re-explaining a sample calculation in response to many blank stares, which only I can understand because I too am seeing a lot of this for the first time! However Ron’s experience with training is invaluable, and he teaches me that there are always different levels of competence in a class, and to allow the best to bore is just as bad as allowing the slowest to fall behind. Ron and I find our balance between covering all the material and allowing our group to copy my French notes and translations and, for many of them, everything that is on the screen, even though it is in English and completely unnecessary and they don’t even understand what it means…more lovely remnants of the French colonial education system: recite, repeat, regurgitate. I understand however, why one would want to write everything down, if one has never been given a printout of things presented…

By the second day we had convinced them not to copy everything down off the slide, just the important notes from the easel, as listening and comprehension (if Joy from Rotary is reading this I hope you will be proud!) I also swell with admiration for my sister, a high school math teacher in Brooklyn who works with a difficult population.

The 3rd day of training is fantastic as well, and Jon excels at one of his best traits: teaching practicality and construction. He explained racking and module mounting, not losing one shred of attention even when explaining how to square an array with a 3-4-5 triangle. Our team is engaged, enthusiastic and talented. I cannot even begin to explain my excitement. I am so full of affection for our technicians and what we are doing here! I am getting attached to each of them, getting to know their existing friendships and the new bonds they are forming with eachother. It is amazing to see those that have just met working side by side, heads bent over an Ohms Law equation or giggling over something the silly yovo just mistranslated. Over 2 years of passion, tears and frustration, fundraising, sweat (literally) and strength are coming together...if only we could do more! I feel as though this will become the next theme in my life…

But still we have no container…4 days ago the Togolese government raised the price of a liter gas from 500CFA to 600CFA, a difference of less than a dollar, but for the majority of the Togolese population that live on less than that dollar per day, the increase is devastating…as a result of some global economic dynamic that I am presently unaware of due to my disconnection to the outside world, gas prices have risen internationally, and the impact has now arrived in Togo. Not only those that own motos and cars are affected, it is those that do not have those means of transportation who must now pay a higher fare. If they can.

Lomé has been nearly impassable for days. The Togolese are rioting. You cannot get in and out of the capital, as groups of furious and frustrated citizens have set up roadblocks of rocks and burning tires (and anything else they can find to burn.) I am sure that to most outsiders, seeing the images of shouting young men wielding sticks and machetes in front of plumes of black smoke flash across slideshows of photos on bbc.com appear almost clichéd…this is Africa. But it is so much more complex…first, to most Togolese, the logical, rational explanation that an external factor (such as the Gulf oil spill, which I am assuming is the impetus of all this) has given the Togolese government no choice but to raise the price at which petrol is sold, is not understandable. Since when has this government ever taken care of them? Second, in many respects they are correct! Rather than squander the nominal wealth accrued by the Togolese government on lavish ministerial lifestyles…Third, there is an explanation that most here will never comprehend: corporate greed. I tend to believe, and in speaking with Jon and Ron about this over a delicious lunch of cassava and poisson, we all agree that the filthy, slimy, gluttonous and indecently insatiable international oil companies are exploiting this potential for speculation…and while it takes a little longer, it trickles all the way down to the streets of Lomé, now on fire.

Therefore, in addition to the delays at customs, which, inshallah, should be resolved by the end of the afternoon TODAY, we may not be able to get a truck out of Lomé…but we have a plan…between myself, Novinyo, Claude and our solar team, we are determined to drag our Titan to Kpalimé as soon as it is full (we will pay extra for gas!) The streets generally clear at night, except for the obstinate and truly foolish…so we have devised a plan to travel to Lomé in the night, and slip through the window of darkness. Of course, a Togolese Titan is about as silent and discreet as an elephant walking across a pool table.

Oh Togo, Home Again

2010-06-23T11:30:00.000-07:00

The electric atmosphere and energy in Africa surrounding the 2010 World Cup is contagious…more liveliness than usual crowds hotel lobbies and shops and cafés with small, staticky televisions. When an African team is playing, I would be willing to bet money on the fact that all eyes in the country are glued to the screen, filled with pride and anticipation. When you step outside, you can hear the buzzing of the recognizable horns from the stadiums in South Africa floating out of windows and open doors. Visiting my friends, everyone has a fingered piece of paper printed from the Cyber Café with the Cup’s schedule, on which they keep track of the scores of every match. The most exciting thus far has been the Cote d’Ivoire vs. Brasil match, in which, despite high hopes, Cote d’Ivoire and Africa’s star Drogba, lost the match in the tense and aggressive final minutes.

Our first weekend in Kpalimé, was spent with Aminou, head of one of our 2 groups of solar technicians, and by far the most enthusiastic. Often times it is almost painful to hear how much rides on the success of this project when looking into Aminou’s fatigued eyes, as he tells us “SunPower Afrique et l’Energie Solaire est mon avenir, depuis votre arrive je n’ai pas dormi” (“SunPower Afrique and solar energy are my future, since you have arrived I have not slept.”) No pressure…

Aminou took us to visit the installation that I had previously seen in the village of Agou-Akplolo, where we gave him a hydrometer and voltage meter we had brought with us, not to miss a training opportunity! Ron explained to Aminou and the boy who had been maintaining the batteries, how the system worked and how to maintain the batteries – neither of which were as understood as one would imagine they would have been, having been installed and maintained by the 2…Ron and Jon asked a lot of questions, both soaking in the methods of installation used as well as the level of true comprehension and knowledge. This has been one of the most interesting elements of our training –current methods vs. correct methods (often maintaining a very fine line in between and even more often, subject to interpretation); those who have already completed an electrical apprenticeship vs. those who have graduated from middle school; those who are and will always be laborers vs. the hidden minds of future engineers.

Piling back into the taxi, we continued further into the bush…stopping in a tiny, tiny village outside of Agou. No more than a handful of huts and sandy passages, a church and a massive Baobob tree, it was peaceful and quiet. Supposedly there was a solar system here…

A young boy (I can never tell the ages of Togolese children, since as a result of childhood malnutrition a 7 year old often looks like he is 4 and a 14 year old like he is only 9 or 10) silently led us to the Chef of the village to announce our arrival and ask for the whereabouts of the solar installation. Sitting in an aged wooden recliner, an ancient radio communicating in Ewe, and one inflamed foot propped up on a pile of sand, the village elder greeted us and pointed, instructing the young boy to take us to our destination. Few spoke French, as is often the case in rural villages, and I proudly showed off my growing vocabulary of my favorite vernacular :)

We arrived at a crumbling mud hut and looked anticlimactically at a rusting 25Watt (tiny) module atop a shockingly sturdy steel pole. Corroded wiring led to a charge controller long occupied by spiders, and then on to an empty battery box.

An old man came up to us and asked, in French, whether we were going to fix the solar. He continued, there is no electricity for kilometers, all of the surrounding schoolchildren would come here when we had light, and would gather around it to learn. Was this a TV commercial?? Like the “classic” African child with flies stuck to his tears, hands outstretched for a grain of rice? How could we refuse to return and repair what other yovos had long forgotten? We decided to use our precious extra PV module for this village, and promised to do our absolute best to return with it, along with a new charge controller and battery (which we will purchase in Lomé).

Returning to Kpalimé in the late afternoon we went to check on ourTeak, which we will be using as our module racking for FECECAV’s solar system. My dear friend Chantal enlisted her father, who is a wood sculptor and carpenter, to prepare 6foot lengths of the locally grown, durable wood. I had called and “placed the order” over a month ago. Upon our arrival, after several minutes of jubilant bouncing and shouts of “Kila! Kila!”from Chantal’s youngest son Eli, we arrived at a pile of 3 foot lengths of teak. Woops.

After about 25 minutes of back and forth, transfering of blame, me trying to calm Jon’s frustration and the ensuing offense taken by the opposite side, we reached an understanding and Papa Chantal planned to head of into the bush the following day to cut down a giant teak tree to meet our needs.

As I write this blog I think about the different way it would be written by Jon or Ron, experiencing the rusted out taxis with battered windshields and no seatbelts, elephant grass lined trails in the bush and shouts of yovo-yovo for the first or second time. I love the fact that while je suis habituée with it all, I still appreciate it. Everything. Every time. Every time I fall in love with Togo all over again.

Most nights Jon and Ron stay at Petite Suisse, where they have become prized visitors (I am old news by now) and, almost to the point of annoyance, are obsessed over as “Mister Jon” and “Mister Ron” (spoken with the notorious rolling “R” – Misterrrr Rrrron), and I go out to see my friends, loving every minute of the familiarity of being independent in Kpalimé and spending time with the group of people that have become my life here. Things are somewhat different now, but as is the case with nearly everything here, so much remains the same…

Walking home last night, the song “Uptown Girl,” blared out of a small bar on the side of the road. “Uptown girrrlll…livin in her white girrrl worrrllllld” it crackled out into the night. I did a double take as the lyrics took effect, laughed to myself and hissed at a taxi moto to take me back to Petite Suisse.

Begin at the Beginning – SunPower Afrique est Lancé au Togo

2010-06-23T11:27:00.000-07:00

17 June, 2010

Our plane bounced into Lomé 2 hours late, and to my shock and awe, all 6 of our suitcases, backpacks and boxes chugged around the groaning belt within 10 minutes. I could not believe it. As per usual, zipped side pockets had been opened by curious fingers and greedy eyes, but all cargo remained intact. Baggage – check.

My heart pounded as we approached the xray machine, through which all baggage passes before leaving the airport, and nearly popped out of my chest when I saw the same beady eyes of the customs officer who held my solar panels hostage last December. I ducked my eyes, and somehow, by some magnificent stroke of luck he patted his colleague on the back, yawned and turned into his office (for his customary hourly nap.) My anxiety returned however when another customs officer, the equally hostile woman with whom I had haggled over and over, shrieked, “Eh! Toi encore?!” (You again?!) I smiled and said, “Yes! I am back to help more people use electricity here in Togo! And I have all of my documents in order!” She looked me up and down, looked wearily at the pile of boxes sitting in front of us, and waved me away. I imagine she was simply too lackluster to deal with it. I’ll take it. Customs – check.

Novinyo and Ametepe greeted us outside the baggage area, the hot humid air infiltrating our clothes and skin. Mutually thrilled to see each other as usual, we hugged, shook, snapped and greeted our way out of the airport. Jon and Ron were hysterical to see all of our luggage jammed into the tiny trunk and backseat of Novinyo’s Audi, and then became incredulous when we were instructed to squeeze ourselves into the car as well. I wasn’t surprised of course Smooth arrival and reunion with my beloved Togolese counterparts – check.

We spent the next 2 days in Lomé, buying various supplies such as a hammer drill with the correct voltage and a Togolese extension cord. The owner of the electrical shop in which we bought the drill had a Deka battery and Conergy PV module for sale! Novinyo, always the eager and opportunistic entrepreneur, immediately began excitedly discussing with him the posssiblities of distributorship. While often overwhelming, especially in Lomé, the potential for this project in Togo is off the charts.

On the morning of the 18th we went to visit our friends at Maersk, to bring our container of the port, load it onto a large truck (which they call here “Titan” pronounced “Teetan” – I don’t know why but I find this absolutely hilarious) and make our way to Kpalimé. Facile non?

Not so…

A certain Maersk employee, with whom I struggled to communicate from the states and had significant doubts in regard to his ability to smoothly carry out this timely operation (mostly due to his arrogant attitude, which, of course, is coupled with the fact that his office is chilled by a sweating air conditioner) immediately wiped the smile off my face that had not faded since I first saw Novinyo’s face. He had not explained the fact that, upon its arrival in Togo, the port and Maersk require at least 3 days to “examine the cargo” and “do the paperwork” to release it. Had I known, we would have arrived 3 days later! To top it all off, it was Friday. No work on Saturday, no work on Sunday, and Monday was a holiday (Togolese memorial day for those that died in the war of independence.) I was furious, but, as I have learned, bit my tongue and negotiated to get the container as quickly as possible. Jon, never quite so reserved, pushed these proud gentlemen to their limit, but, after taking its toll of my level of stress, was instrumental in explaining the desperate need for the equipment by the following Wednesday at the latest. They refused to promise Wednesday, but said they would do their best and “most likely we would have it by Thursday. What could we do…?

Begrudgingly we decided to head to Kpalimé without our panels, inverters, wiring, batteries, everything…we would start the training and return for the container the next week. See you Wednesday I said, and they forced a shifty smile and said, no promises Yovo.

Novinyo leant us his car and found us a driver, to take us to Kpalimé with our pile of baggage, and then return the same day with his vehicle. I told Ron and Jon we were headed home. I immediately fell asleep for the entire ride down the familiar trip from the capital to the foot of Togo’s majestic mountainous border with Ghana.

Back to the Yovo Show - 2 Days to Togo 2010

2010-06-13T11:55:00.000-07:00

I am quite experienced at this point in my packing career...having eliminated all of the accesory accoutrements recommended in tourist guides and travel books, only carrying with me the basic items I have learned are actually useful to me in West Africa. Of course, most space in my baggages is occupied with gifts and goodies to impart upon my friends and family qui m'attendent.

It is both reassuring and stressful to know that I won't be traveling alone. Every time I make the trip halfway across the world on my own I relish the space from every single thing in my life, and simply enjoy my proud independence. This time around I will be a translator, a tour guide, an organizer and a mediator, balancing culture and work ethic, autonomy and dependence, delegating and ownership...

It is also quite a complex emotion to understand that 2+ years of project development and fundraising are about to materialize into SunPower Afrique's pilot project that will not only change lives in Togo, but create a tangible result of the potential of this organization.

Jon, Ron and I leave JFK at 10PM this Tuesday night (the 15th) and return on July 2nd. We will be in Lome one day before the container's arrival at the port, at which time we will accompany it to Kpalime. Two weeks of training and installation will ensue...battery maintenance and troubleshooting will be the crux of our training program (for which the manuals are not yet finalized and printed and I am starting to freak out a little bit...)

The 3 of us will be staying at Petit Suisse, like the old days :) Many things are different this time around, on every possible front. But I hope that I will always be the Yovo-avec-le-sang-Africain de Kpalime.

I have already invited the Director of the National Microfinance Committee and several of my "political" contacts to the system commissioning. Yes, I am excited. C'est un grand chose.

The Shipping Container - Loaded!

2010-05-12T16:18:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, May 11th 2010, was a momentus day for SunPower Afrique, and the first physical, tangible step towards the pilot project in June. The container has been loaded!

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At approximately 4PM a tractor trailer pulling a 20 foot Maersk shipping container labored its way down Pechins Mill Road, executed a 35 point turn and grunted to a halt amidst the boxes and packaged solar equipment being shipped to Togo on May 18th.

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The entire SunPower team, including SunPower Builders employees and SunPower Afrique volunteers (often one in the same these days...!) made this possible throughout the past 2 weeks. I am eternally grateful. Last minute runs to the electrical supply house, frantic phone calls to Conway and UPS tracking packages and confirming shipments, rigorous testing of all system components...

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Miraculously, when the truck arrived, so had everything else...except for one 21lb package containing an inverter controller, which we will carry with us in a month, along with all of the other items we realize-we-might-possibly-need-and-didn't-already-bring-3-extras :)

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For 2 hours, we loaded the container. All items were boxed and itemized, protected and secured and lifted into the gaping mouth of the giant, echoing metal box that will carry our prized cargo across the ocean.

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Here is a short story in pictures of what feels like the beginning of the end of a long journey, but is really just the beginning of another beginning, of a whole nother, larger, even more exciting adventure...

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SunPower Afrique Goes National!

2010-05-05T13:45:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I will be speaking on a panel at The Chicago Microfinance Conference (CMFC), a collaborative effort among leading graduate business and policy institutions that brings together practitioners, academics and emerging industry leaders to advance the strategic debate of the future of microfinance.

I was originally invited to be a speaker at the conference on the general theme of "Green Microfinance" but as the conference's agenda developed, organizations throughout the world doing similiar work combining renewable energy, the environment and microfinance were brought in to form a panel called "Microfinance Goes Green." I will be joined by 3 others to discuss why renewables and microfinance, and the environment and international development, are inherently linked, and where this momentum will lead the microfinance community in the coming years.

You can learn more about the conference participants and the conference itself here: http://www.chicagomicrofinance.com/speakers.shtml

If you're in Chicago come check it out!

===================================

In other news, after the pilot project, I will be focusing on an application for this grant from the Draper Richards Foundation: http://www.draperrichards.org/process/guidelines.html

This grant, which supports startup non-profit social ventures with funding for 3 years, fits perfectly with SunPower Afrique's mission, current status and future vision. The foundation's homepage states: "By delivering critical support at the start-up phase, Draper Richards Fellowships help outstanding people create wide-spread social change."

A Draper Richards Fellowship, along with the excellent reccomendations on our financial model from Penn State, would allow SunPower Afrique to operate in the black and move beyond the pilot state into our 10-year scaleability plan. Ashoka watch out, I WILL be back...I am a passionate and principled entrepreneur.

Equipment Ordered for June Pilot!

2010-04-25T11:05:00.000-07:00

We are doing it...

I am almost afraid to say it out loud, but at the same time I want to shout it from every rooftop! We have raised nearly enough funding to carry out our Pilot Project in June, and are moving forward. We are confident that we can bring in the remaining $5-10K needed in the next few weeks to buy plane tickets and the final odds and ends...or at least to reimburse ourselves for covering it...!

Several blog updates coming soon, with detailed information on our system design, procurement, shipping & importing and next steps. I apologize for neglecting KiraWithoutBorders in recent weeks, the PA solar industry has taken over my life! (which I suppose on one hand is also a good thing...)

But in the interim, please share our excitement in the placement of Purchase Orders! We have ordered:

- 30, 170Watt GE (US-made!) PV modules
- 2, 3kW Outback grid-tied inverters (brand new product!)
- 24 Deka deep-cycle batteries (PA made!)
- All of the neccesary controls, disconnects and accoutrements :)
- 20 x 20 shipping container for the 30-day trek from Newark, DE to Lome, Togo

Racking details, mounting methods, nuts and bolts and round-trip tickets to Lome are next...stay tuned!

It is actually such a relief to know that we will back in Togo soon...
K

APPEAL FOR LAPTOP DONATIONS GETS BETTER!

2010-04-08T07:43:00.000-07:00

It gets better!

If you donate a laptop to SunPower Afrique, not only is it still a tax deduction donation, but Collegeville-based MONTCO-IT is offering to replace your laptop for a significantly reduced cost.

Need a new laptop? Donate your used laptop to those in need and get a brand-spankin new one cheap! Win-win :)

Montco-IT: http://www.montcoit.com/

Please contact Kira at kira.costanza@sunpowerafrique.org or 610.489.1105 if you can help!

Akpe ka ka! Merci beaucoup! Thank you very much!

APPEAL FOR OLD LAPTOPS!

2010-04-07T09:41:00.000-07:00

SunPower Afrique is asking for donations of laptops – used or new – to bring to Togo in June. Equipment donations are also tax deductible!

Here is why:

1. One of SunPower Afrique's goals is to impart to Togolese MFIs and small businesses the importance of reducing energy consumption. To encourage this, we have switched many appliances from AC to DC. The biggest part of this is removing FECECAV's ancient, energy hogging desktops and switching them to laptops.

2. Similiarly, the system size is incredibly dependant on load reduction, and we have determined that the most effective way to reduce their consumption is to switch the majority of FECECAV's desktop computers to laptops.

Therefore, SunPower Afrique is asking for donations of laptops – used or new – to bring to Togo for this purpose. If we can collect 20-25 laptops we will achieve this goal. Equipment donations are also tax deductible.

I am willing to pick them up and they can be in good to fair condition, I can do minimal repair work if necessary.

If you do not have any laptops to contribute, please consider making a donation to SunPower Afrique at http://www.sunpowerafrique.org/!

Thank you very much for your time and consideration to – your support will make a HUGE DIFFERENCE!

PLEASE CONTACT kira.costanza@sunpowerafrique.org if you have any laptops you can part with, would like to purchase and donate a laptop, or know anyone that might!

Note: We plan to move the desktops to other locations where they can be of use. If certain computers are deemed unuseable or unneccesary, we will safely and responsibly dispose of them - this too will set an example for local communities! (The irresponsible disposal of computer equipment is an increasing problem on the West African coast...and throughout the world...I hope that humanity will soon find a solution, as our current computers are replaced more and more frequently).

Project Update - 20 March - Presque!

2010-03-20T09:10:00.000-07:00

SunPower Afrique's pilot project is now slated for June 2010. In the wake of the global recession, massive budget cuts in every institution, government agency and private sector economy in the world, all non-profits have been hit exceptionally hard. SunPower Afrique's start-up status has made this even more challenging. But we are DOING THIS!

Presently and somewhat miraculously, mostly a result of aggressive and die-hard tenacity, we have raised over $25,000, which covers the training, outreach and all other costs besides the actual equipment - and we have excellent leads with some global solar companies and donors to top-off our budget in time. Our partners in Togo are READY (getting impatient actually!) and the word about SunPower Afrique continues to spread like wildfire in Kpalimé and beyond.

I want to take another opportunity to offer my sincere and indescribeable appreciation to every individual, every family, every business, every partner who has supported SunPower Afrique thus far. We have raised over $25,ooo with an average donation size of $50-100. It is truly amazing.

Jon and our training partner, who will be traveling with us to Togo in June, Ron Celentano, have designed an innovative PV system that reduces FECECAV's load significantly, not only encouraging responsible energy consumption, but also requiring a smaller system that will be grid-tied and use the solar PV as backup. More details about system design are forthcoming, including a full list of components and drawings, so that all of our donors can see exactly how their contributions are being spent. We are also developing the final curriculum for the classroom portion of our training (thank you Ron!) and I am trying to figure out how I will manage to get it all straight and translated into Français before June...

Importantly, a momentous goal has been achieved! After revising and re-revising and re-revising and re-revising (and re-revising and re-revising) SunPower Afrique's business plan, with input from dozens of retired executives, MBA students and others, all with their (always well intentioned!) opinions on how the plan should be written, and in some cases, how the mission of my project should be transformed...I have a real, legitimate, magnificent business plan. I was lucky enough to work with my, now close partner, Ayite Gaba (I wrote a previous blog about this incredible soul earlier in the month - http://kirawithoutborders.blogspot.com/2010/02/introducing-monsieur-ayite-gaba.html).

Ayite and I are now, together, soliciting development agencies and financial institutions with microlending or social investment programs for this improved, long-term and sustainable business model.

Please have a look at the new BPlan which has been uploaded to the homepage of the SunPower Afrique website: http://www.sunpowerafrique.org/PDF/Home/SunPower%20Afrique%20Bplan_FINAL_March2010.pdf

If you know anyone or have any contacts at the types of donors we are currently soliciting, please do not hesitate to send me an email at kira.costanza@sunpowerafrique.org!

In addition, SunPower Afrique has been chosen to participate in a Social Entrepreneurship course at Penn State Great Valley, where grad students will be working with Jon and I to develop effective non-profit marketing strategies and the beginnings of a real SunPower Builders - SunPower Afrique hybrid business model.

Akpe pour la patience de TOUS mes partènaires, a deux côtes de la mer, et akpe ka ka ka ka pour la confiance que vous avez mis sur les époules de SunPower Afrique. We will not let you know. Le projet arrive a trés bientot.

Miadogo looooo!

How's that for Franglewe? :)

Kira Akou Costanza
Directrice Executive

2010 Togo Election Results Coming In...

2010-03-06T15:00:00.000-08:00

The main opposition party in Togo has claimed widespread irregularities in the country's presidential election. However...http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8553955.stm

Witholding judgement or opinion until final results, which must now be approved by Togo's electoral commission ("independant" for the first time in the country's history), are released, and, more importantly, we see how the opposition reacts. And how organized and mobilize they are on a grassroots level...most people in the capital remain indoors and nervous, but my friends in Kpalime have been surprisingly calm.

Here are some articles on the current situation. More to come.

IN-BRIEF: Vote Counting in Togo:
http://www.irinnews.org/Report.aspx?ReportId=88329

Togo Opposition Claims 'Irregularities" in Poll
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8548787.stm

Togo Police Use Tear Gas on Opposition Protesters
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/africa/8553114.stm

Disputed Vote Spawns Fears
http://www.irinnews.org/Report.aspx?ReportId=88337

Tip-Toeing Towards Reconciliation (this piece conveys both the shameless optimism I feel about Togolese development, and the confusion and anger I often feel towards stagnation and corruption...)
http://www.irinnews.org/Report.aspx?ReportId=88317

Paix Avant Tous

2010-03-03T19:18:00.000-08:00

My thoughts will be with Togo and preoccupied for the next 24-48 hours...hoping for peace and nonviolence during Presidential Elections. I hope that as many of the Togolese population are able to vote, in safety, above all.

There appears to be an indescribable group of Togolese youth, mobilized and passionate, ready to contest a fraudulent election...truly ready to "die to extract from the ruling party's hand a victory for the opposition." And "take to the streets to reclaim victory, if the ruling power ever tries to steal this vote." I am simultaneously and uncomfortably proud and terrified. Please keep my friends safe.

Last minute election news:

Incumbent Faces Strong Challenge at Polls
http://allafrica.com/stories/201003031020.html

A Crucial Opportunity for the Country
http://allafrica.com/stories/201003030015.html

Hope for the Best, Prepare for the Worst
http://www.irinnews.org/Report.aspx?ReportId=88305

UN Chief Calls for Peaceful Polls

http://www0.un.org/apps/news/story.asp?NewsID=33941&Cr=west+africa&Cr1=

En Francais:

(From Faure and the RPT)
http://www.republicoftogo.com/

Aujourd'hui 4 mars 2010 - Les Togolais ont rendez-vous avec leur destin

http://fr.allafrica.com/stories/201003040039.html

Fin de campagne, démonstration de forces!

http://allafrica.com/stories/201003031020.html

Togolese Elections 4 March, 2010

2010-02-21T08:22:00.000-08:00

The Togolese population is ready for change, but channels for that momentum and energy are difficult to find and organize. Elections have been postponed from February 28 to March 4, at the request of the opposition. President Faure Gnassingbe noted that the elections are being delayed "with the aim of permanently seeking consensus and maintaining a peaceful climate during the electoral process."

While I have my opinion on what the outcome of the election will almost certainly be, all I can do is hope, both personally and professionally, that the government, the opposition and the population can find a balance of non-violence during the campaigns and the election. May peaceful means of protest be tolerated and violence towards the status quo be restrained.

Here are a few links to Togolese election news:

http://allafrica.com/stories/201002171118.html (Togo's First Female Candidate! Although she withrew fearing fraudulent results and in protest of flawed electoral processes...joining the main opposition party, the UFC, who withdrew in mid-February)

Introducing Monsieur Ayite Gaba

2010-02-14T10:35:00.000-08:00

An email came to me on January 8, 2010 from my Togolese friend John in California:

Ayite, please meet Kira.

Kira please meet Ayite. I believe you both are in Togo now and you should try to meet.

Let's start talking and make something happen here :)

I have struggled, since founding SunPower Afrique in 2008, with my lack of an MBA...and while I have learned as I've gone along, and no longer feel that an MBA will be my advanced degree of choice, the ability to design financial models in excel spreadsheets and properly construct business plans have proven themselves again and again critical to SunPower Afrique's success...

To compensate for my lack of business management experience I have reached out to many. From MBA students to retired executives to wall street financiers to nonprofit managers...not only could networking and market-researching be a full time job in its own right, but finding someone to help me who a) understands exactly where I am coming from b) will follow through and c) most importantly, can do all of this for free...has been quite challenging. (Not to say that I am automatically entitled to any of this, nor to render insigificant any of the monumental support I have received thus far!)

Then I "met" Ayite, who immediately understood me and my project. Our partnership is strengthened by the fact that Ayite is Togolese and quickly noted how Togolese-at-heart this Yovo actually is...(I have recently undergone some self-recognition, vindicated by a "What Color is your Personality" test at Rotary a few weeks ago, realizing how much I, a Blue, thrive on peoples' recognition of my passion and "unique contributions to the world" :))

In one of our first email conversations, Ayite wrote, "It has been 12 years since I left Togo and I have ever since been searching for an opportunity to do a meaningful work there. I think SPA is a rare opportunity to put my knowledge of technology and business to use in Togo ."

A Togolese expat, Ayite has worked for over 5 five years in various engineering and product management roles in the high-tech industry both in the United States and in Germany before deciding to return to Africa to put his knowledge to use there. He has just accepted a Business Development Associate role with Google in Senegal, where he wants to help bring technology to the masses in Africa. Ayite has an MBA from INSEAD in Singapore and France and a Bachelor of Science degree in Electrical Engineering from San Jose State University in California. I cannot believe how lucky I am to have him working with me.

Ayite dove right in. asking comprehensive and pointed questions about my product, my impact, my goals...my value proposition...sustainability and scaleability...He is enthusiastic, encouraging and practical, telling me that yes, the potential for this project is paramount and we are going to get the funding we need, but first we've got to do something about this cash flow situation Kira...

A little over a month later, we are days away from a thorough, sensibile, self-sustaining financial model and business plan for SunPower Afrique, something I have been trying to put together for far too long...Thanks to Ayite's and my similiar philsophies, understandings of international development and committment to responsible business, I have been able to trust and delegate.

Even since I started SunPower Afrique at the beginning of 2008, the concept of expanding the use renewable energy in the developing world has grown dramatically. And there are organizations and people, such as SELCO, SELF and the late and beloved Walt Ratterman, that have been working in this framework for years. There are so many models, from charity to non-profit to public-private partnerships to for-profit and everything in between - which is where SunPower Afrique falls, somewhere in between. In the burgeoning world of social-entrepreneurship and social investment (http://www.ashoka.org/social_entrepreneur; http://www.pbs.org/opb/thenewheroes/whatis/) that is exhilarating, competitive, exciting, terrifying and inspiring...And Ayite is helping me to find my place there, by putting all of my foundations and partially constructed building blocks in place, filling in the holes and lining them up for success.

Since the beginning I have spoken about my Ashoka-Skoll-Schwab aspirations, however amorphous and remote...I continue to hold these ambitions close, but now I can see them more tangibly...the huge piles of research on initiatives and institutions that support social entrepreneurs are ready to be picked through again. I am ready to approach and re-approach the big guns with creative and strategic ways to invest money in social change. With a strong written portfolio to back up my dogmatic ideals, SunPower Afrique might just be unstoppable :)

Akpe ka ka Ayite. Akpe loooo.

"For me sustainability and acting responsibly are unequivocally inseparable. I know most capitalists will disagree with me on this but that is alright..." - Ayite Gaba, Feb. 2010

Aklala Batik! New Website and NYC Debut!

2010-01-22T06:37:00.000-08:00

Soon to be solar loan client and dear friend in Togo, Chantal Donvide, founder of Aklala Batik. has a new website!

http://www.aklala.com/

Put together by the fabulous and talented Megan Rhodes, former Peace Corps volunteer in Togo who helped Chantal develop this business into the success it is becoming today. You can follow the blog that Megan keeps for Aklala as well: http://www.aklala.blogspot.com/

We love you Chantal and can't wait to bring solar energy to your business to increase your already stunning capacity :)

These are the stories and faces of SunPower Afrique in Togo.

SunPower Afrique Stands With Haiti

2010-01-15T07:43:00.001-08:00

Nos prières et penseés sont avec l'Haiti.

We urge you to support Partners in Health (PIH), who have been working on the ground in Haiti for over 20 years. They urgently need your support to help those affected by the earthquake.

Partners in Health have also partnered in recent years with the Solar Electric Light Fund, who is currently diverting 13 kW of solar panels to a PIH facility to provide electricity for critical lighting and emergency medical treatment.

May our hearts and prayers remain with Haiti.

Happy New Year from Your President, Faure Gnassingbe

2010-01-10T10:01:00.000-08:00

New Years Day in Togo is steeped in tradition. And beautiful realism mixed with optimism. It is a bit of a slow day, sleepily compensating for the last night's festivities and staying up late - whether you are a maman coming home from church at 4AM or an ornery 6-year old boy who spent his New Years Eve throwing loud, homemade poppers (called "bandits" :) )at rocks and sand. The enveloping celebratory atmosphere transcends denominations and neighborhoods, genders and ages. And everyone has the same annual wish for the year upon us...sante avant tous. Health above all.

Si nous avons la sante, la reste va venir. If we have our health, everything else will come.

After health, les voeux are money, work (which rely inherently on each other...) happiness and, as I chimed in to much laughter, beaucoup d'energie solaire en 2010!

The Togolese tradition on New Years Eve is to go to church at Midnight, to ring in the New Year. Even those that didn't go to church on Christmas eve were there at 00:00 31, Dec., 2009.

After the 4-5 hour service-chorus-dance-celebration, people return home to prepare an early morning fufu. Makes perfect sense to me to ring in the New Year with a bon fufu :)

Throughout the day, we visited friends to wish them health and a prosperous 2010. Around 2PM we found ourselves at Daniels, just in time for the President's New Years Address...

First, a 3-minute scratchy rendition of the Togolese national anthem played, while Daniel sang random words and beamed at thoughts of Kabye ministers. The general tone and style of the song are military, as it was written during Togo's independence before the regime of Eyadema.

Petit Digression: I looked up the words of the anthem later on, and learned that the Togolese National Anthem describes the difficulties of the past but more importantly, the will to reconstruct and create unity and prosperity. It is almost like a promise by the Togolese people, government and spirit of dedication to their country. The intense identity and nationalism of Togolese resonate from the anthem's lyrics.

Here is a sample: People of Togo arise! Let us build the nation. To serve thee in unity is the most burning desire of our hearts. Let us shout aloud our motto that nothing can tarnish. We the only builders of thy happiness and of thy future. Everywhere let us break chains and treachery, and we swear to thee for ever faith, love, service, untiring zeal. To make thee yet, beloved Togo, a golden example for humanity.

A graphic of the waving Togolese flag floats across the screen.

Monsieur Faure Essozimna GNASSINGBE,Président de la République appears fairly expressionlessly on the screen(imagine the backdrop as SNL Weekend Update circa 1998), his title extending across the bottom.

Faure spoke for about 10 minutes, airily wishing a prosperous 2010 with gigantic leaps in economic productivity and Togo's brilliant emergence as a transparent democracy. There was a surprisingly progressive element of substance in the middle of his speech however, when Faure announced that on January 13 (the National Holiday celebrating not only the assasination and overthrowing of the first Togolese Prime Minister Sylvanus Olypmio, but the first true Coup d'Etat on the continent of Africa, in 1963) Togolese authorities will travel to Benin to dig up and bring back to Togo to remains of Sylvanus Olympio, in a gesture of national unity and semblance of a break with the Eyadema years. Faure announced that from now on, the 13 Janvier will no longer be a national celebration of victory but a national day of prayer.

Daniel loudly applauded the president's decision. I continued to count how many times Faure uttered the words "Mes Compatriats." In the words of my friend and Kiva Fellow Nick (who is currently working with FECECAV), the man needs a teleprompter.

Faure closed out his speech by wishing a "successful" and "transparent" election in February. For himself.

There is no question that Faure will win a second term. Besides the widespread belief (and sincere concern and opinion of mine) that a free and fair election will not be permitted, there is no real opposition candidate. Opposition parties are not well organized or effective in Togo, and, fascinatingly, the front-running "opposition" candidate's name is Gilchrist Olympio. Yes, son of Sylvanus. Togo desperately needs some new blood...

http://www.iol.co.za/index.php?set_id=1&click_id=86&art_id=nw20100112163243686C356854

Informal campaigning for the February 28,2010 Presidential Election has already begun, with visits and gifts to villages of rice, corn and pagne. And fCFA. There is a national list on which you can sign up to receive a green sac of rice, on which is written "Faure 2010." If you want to be seen as supportive of Faure, or think yo should be seen as supportive of Faure and the regime, you'd better have a green sac of rice...official, organized campaigning, when posters and rallies will overtake the capital, begins in early January.

Bonne Nouvelle Annee - Happy New Year.

Sante, Bonheur et l'Energie Aolaire - Health, Happiness and Solar Energy.

To my family and friends, throughout the world. You know who you are, and to those I do not know yet - I look forward to it :) To the people of Togo and the Togolese diaspora, with whom I will be forever connected and thankful.

SunPower Afrique Eases out of 2009 and Rings in 2010 in Togo

2010-01-07T14:32:00.000-08:00

Final Blog Posts Coming Soon:

1 January 2010 - Happy New Year from Your President Faure Gnassingbe

5 January 2010 - Two Weeks in Togo...Keep Pushing On

And lastly, thank you to Alexandra Fuller, in Don't Let's Go to the Dogs Tonight, for helping to put this into words for me...

"African by accident, not by birth. So while soul, heart and the bent of my mind are African, my skin blaringly begs to differ and is resolutely white..."

30 December - Vindication

2010-01-03T08:47:00.000-08:00

I have a nasty sore throat after spending 4 consecutive days in Lome…between the dust, busted motos trailing tails of blue smoke and massive piles of burning garbage, it does not add up to the most positive environment for one’s respiratory system…but in the end it apperars to have been worth it.

Since je ne me decourage pas, I went back again to the Ministry of Decentralization for my recepisse. I zent directly to the higher up whom I had met the day before, to continue to push him to get the document signed before my departure. I have learned quickly that showing my face every day and cooing in Ewe is the easiest, zell qctually the only, zqy to get what I need and want from this government. Tommorrow, he said again, although I knew well that both today and tommorrow were half days because of the holiday. Maybe Monday ? Luckily this time he only wasted about 15 mintues of my time…

Claude was with me, to try once again to collect the 2 120 Watt Sharp modules still sitting in the customs office at the airport. This time I brought my copy of the decree, signed bythe Direcetur Generale of Customs, to present to the customs officers surely still dozing at the airport .
We first met a contact of Claude’s in another customs office close to the airport, to as khis opinion of the document and if he thought it would get us anywhere. He read the document and said that yes, he thought that i twas still in effect, even though the date on the document was 1998…this, he said, is what would create problems, as this also meant it was signed bythe former regime’s Customs Director (which former regime… ? Everyone knows that nothing has changed, although the ministries have added the words « of reform » at the end of their already outrageous and extraneous titles…)

After consulting with his boss, he said that he would be happy to call the office in teh airport and ask them to release the panels for a smaller fee than the 200,000CFA demanded by the qrrogant minions that had insulted me the day before.

In the classic Togolese fashion that I have become disturbingly accustomed to, we discovered that since there were no flights that day (again, yes, really), the head of the airport customs office had not come in to work.

Determined not to be foiled again, I decided that we must find the new version of the decree . We moto-ed back across town to the Direction General of Togolese Customs. After more Ewe canoodling with the security guards and secreatire, we found ourselves (rather quickly, considering the others in the waiting room had been there for 3 hours…sometimes I must just shamelessly take advantage of my zhite skin and green eyes…however terrible that it…I was fed up…) in the office of the Director of International Customs Affairs.

He looked at the decree that I handed him for a long 2 minutes then raised his eyes and said yes, this is still in effect. I suppressed my excitement with difficulty and asked if it was possible to obtain the new copy for my future work in Togo (I lmentioned nothing pof the panels zaiting at the airport and the ridiculous bribe i had encountered). He sucked air through his front teeth and said, sorry, there is no nezw version. I asked innocently if they would accept this one, as it is signed by the old Diurector from the previous government. He shrugged. I pushed on. Would it be possible to obtain a letter or signature from the new director with the current date ? Just do that I dont have any problems...humor me monsieur, s’il vous plait…

Bon, he said, write the letter. And I will get it signed for you. Here, he continued, and handed me a pencil and piece of paper, write this down. He proceeded to dictate the letter and told me to brin git back to him as soon as possible, with my logo at the top and a 500CFA stamp.
The stamp. A different 500CFA stamp for every document submitted to any ministry. Like the rubber stamps, without this 500CFA timbre, ce n’est pas officiel. They won’t look at it. Ils mangeant à chaque opportunité qu’ils peuvent…

We brought it back to him a few hours later, after typing and printing it at another of Claude’s friend’s tiny office , all the way across the city. Therefore our one shot at accomplishing our task.
I felt incredibly effective and satisfied, telling the Director that I would return on Monday to pick it up. Yea right, but fingers crossed anyway…

With the precious knowledge that the decree was still in effect we made one more trip to the airport. Buying a coca for the guard to let Claude in the office with me, we tried again to plead our case to the attendants. They continued to refuse, telling me thank you for bringing the decree this time but we cannot accept it, as i looked longingly at my solar panels leaned againt the wall where I left them. If they werent so heavy and i wzerent scared of what a Togolese jail cell might be like, I wouldve taken them and run like hell.

Your boss must know that this decree is still in effect, I said szeetly, he is the expert on the law of customs here at the airport no ? They snickered and reminded me that he was not there. Can you call him ? I continued to push. « I have no credit on my cellphone, sorry Madame » Here ! I thrust mine in his face . Give me his number. Shocked and livid, they shouted the number at me, go ahead yovo, try your luck.

Beeeeep . Beeeep. He picked up…I introduced myself and he recognized my identity when I said that I was the owner of the solar panels sitting in his office. What can I do for you Madame ? I read directlyfrom the decree, and told him that we had visiting the Direction of Customs today, to confirlm that it is still in effect. Of course it is, he responded, is there no one there to help you ? I said yes, there are 2 agents here, but they will not let me take them (not reminding him that not 2 days earlier that it was he on the phone who had told them to charge me 200,000CFA…)

Let me talk to one of them, he said. No problem. I sshoved my phone at one of the smirking agents, who proceeded to explain at length that that the document I had was dated 1998. Then he listened, expressionless, and finally said OK chef, no problem no problem. He offered no indication…My heart pounded.

When he hung up he stood and said calmly, See ? that was all you needed to do eh ? Bring that piece of paper ! Yes, I smiled and nodded, picking up the panels one by one and handing them to Claude. So so sorry for any trouble and thank you so much for all of your help and graciousness. Bon Fete et miadogo-loooo. They were half smiling as we carried the panels out the door. The only fee we had paid was the 100CFA for the guards soda.

I have never been so proud in my life.

On the way home, Claude played Celine Dion, Westlife and King Mensah on his cellphone and I leaned my face out the cracked bus window, reveling in our sweet victory.

29 December - Obstacles a Chaque Étape

2010-01-03T08:40:00.000-08:00

I awoke this morning to hysterical laughter, the sound of rocks hitting concrete and low growling…uh oh…I wrapped myself in my pagne and flung open the door to find Mathilde, Celine and Maria throwing rocks at Anice, one of the house dogs, who was trapped under a bush. I hissed and scolded them, and they hovered somewhere between fear and apathy before dropping the rocks in their grimy hands. While they inherently knew this was bad, Mathilde is too young to know better and Celine just has a stubborn, mean streak.

Maryann shyly apologized to me. She is one of Maman’s students, who is working as their servant during winter break., When Maman is not here I let her lean on me, touch my fingernails and read the tags on my clothes while I read…she has a beautiful smile and a bald patch on the front of her head where she carries silver bowls of water that weigh more than her thin body.

By 10AM we were in Lomé, which is 10 times hotter and dustier than Kpalimé, because there are almost no trees, and far too many people and motos. We had arrived not only to search for my solar panels at the airport and take care of some business the US Embassy, but also to pay a visit my dear friends at the Ministry of Decentralization in search of my Recepissé, which has STILL not been signed. Without this silly piece of paper, for which I have already spent over $400 (including the small favors I have had to pass quietly in envelopes in order to move my folder from one room to the next…) and waited over a year, I cannot import the panels for my project, lest they be stolen and heavily taxed at the port.

It was a frustrating day…

Starting with the US Embassy, an arrogant fortress with high fences, landscaping and by far the most well-functioning air conditioning units in all of Togo, the day just went downhill and for the first (ok, maybe the second) time, I was officially discouraged and furious at this country’s government’s utter incompetence and corruption. As well as US immigration policy.

Of course Visas to the US are difficult to acquire, and with good reason, but the ridiculous hoops one must navigate through to simply gather information and speak to a human being at the US Embassy in Lomé were out of control.

Upon arrival at the embassy – which for a Togolese person living in Kpalimé takes almost 3 hours and costs a week’s wages – we learned that in order to call the “Visa Information Line” we must go to one of 3 locations in Lomé and buy a calling card which costs 8500CFA, more than 3 times what we paid to get to Lomé in the first place. For most Togolese, the game is already over. They cannot afford the calling card, which by the way, gives you 9 minutes with a “Visa Information Officer” who can “answer your questions and schedule an interview.”

Luckily we had friends in Lomé that took us on their motos all day to our various destinations, so after making our 9 minute phone call (which, of course was an affair all in itself, because to call a land line you must use another land line to avoid using up all of your minutes, and the first 2 phone booths we tried were not working) we zig-zagged our way to some fufu near the Ministerie de Decentralisation. I had called my contact in the morning, who told me that it was not ready, but that I could pass by before 4PM.

After an hour of negotiating, that went from polite to furious, following protocol to pleading, and finally to accepting defeat, I had visited nearly everyone except the minister himself and convinced them to help me find my file and put it in front of his face. Another step forward, after several steps back. I have however maintained very cordial relationships with the employees at this ministry, which works in my favor. My rapidly developing Ewe skills also help :) Apparently since my previous departure the Minister has not signed a single Recepissé…so what is he doing up there?!, I told them I will be leaving soon and I WILL have that authorization in my hand –as firmly as my yovo eyes and voice could muster. Since I am oh so intimidating…

Already agitated and frustrated, we went to the airport to collect my panels and go home, as we were so sweaty and dusty all we needed in the world was a shower. We arrived at 4:30PM to learn that the attendant had gone home at 3PM but her replacement was due to arrive any minute since his shift started at 4. We waited, with 3 others, until he sauntered in at 6PM…yes, really. We followed him into his air conditioned office, next to the customs office, on whose door I had already knocked to find a woman sleeping across 3 chairs with a French soap opera shrieking across the room. After a few minutes I told him jokingly (sort of) that he was late…to which he responded calmly, “Oh? You were waiting for me?” It was all I could do after this day not to reach across the counter and smack him.

But it was nothing compared to what happened next.

Finding my panels in the baggage storage closet, their packaging ripped apart but the panels themselves still intact, I started to carry them out of the terminal. I was immediately hissed at with a “Vient-là! Tu dois presenter ca a la douanes!” (Come here! You must bring that through customs!) The tone was rude and angry…I took a deep breath and turned around. I was in no mood…

After conversing with a customs officer who appeared out of nowhere and the same woman I had found asleep not an hour earlier, I was forced to bring my panels into the customs office…if I had been importing them for sale, rather than them being my personal baggage, I would have of course been happy to declare the materials. But it was just not so. I was however convinced, when a police officer, hearing the customs’ officers rising tones, asked me politely to step into the office. So I did…

I tried to be polite, I really did, but after 20 minutes of haggling (seems to be the story of this day) when I was told I would have to pay 200,000CFA (almost $500) to take the panels out of the airport I surpassed my limit. I asked to see their supervisor. I was then insulted in Ewe and asked who I thought I was to speak to them like this, with daggers in their eyes, you stupid yovo. They said that their boss was not in and that he was the only one who knew the “prices” to import baggage.

I surpassed my limit. I demanded to see the paperwork that explained, under the law, how the customs fees are determined from the value of the product. They snarled that the paperwork is only in their boss’s head. I left without my solar panels. But it's definitely not over.

I cried in the taxi on the way home until Inno squeezed his arm out from between the 4 of us smashed into the backseat and put it around me.

So I said Ok, c’est fini.

C’est promis?

Oui.

Je te demande encore de courage ok? Encore un peu de courage.

Ok.

25-26 December - A Dusty Noel

2009-12-29T07:51:00.003-08:00

Christmas in Togo was a bit anticlimactic…which makes sense, since without lots of money, presents, feasts and generally excessive consumerism, what else do I know about the holiday season? However, several things are different here than usual. It makes me laugh, takes me by surprise and enrages me every time I drive by a white Santa Clause statue in the doorway of an African bank…strings of half lit, blinking lights hang across the Boulevard de 13 Fevrier in Lomé and adorn the central offices of Togotelecom. I suddenly notice the plastic Christmas trees in my friends’ rooms and in certain boutiques that have definitely been there all along…

The only day of vacation is Christmas Day itself. Everyone goes to church early in the morning and stays there for almost 5 hours, but this is not that far from what happens every Sunday…after being permitted to sleep until almost 9AM we congregated in Atsou’s roasting salon and ate fufu and drank whiskey mixed with a (very) cheap version of Bailey’s Irish cream.

Only in Togo can you sweat your way through lunch and not feel the slightest embarrassment. Because you are always less sweaty than the women that pounded that fufu for you – who also come to eat of course, paying little mind to the beads that slide down their chest and temples. As we eat we get even sweatier from the alcohol and spicy sauce. Why people who live in hot climates have adapted to eat hot and spicy sauces continues to be beyond me…

Everyone tells me that the partying continues from Christmas until New Years – it is both a conversation starter (“Et tu as bien feté? Mais oui! Ca continue eh?!” Snap Snap Laugh Laugh) and a form of encouragement, as everyone knows well that no one here has the finances to drink alcohol that many days in a row. Especially now…

When I was here last, the economic crisis had not yet hit very hard here. While Togo is somewhat shielded from the worst, because their economy has been so devastated it doesn’t depend that heavily on global credit and financial markets, people now refer to it as “La Crise.” Many people have mentioned to me that this year they will not be buying this or that, that business has been slow, that they could not afford to buy medicine for their child. The dogs at the house are emaciated and pant exhaustedly in the afternoon sun. I try to feed Bienvenue any scraps that I can find and told Inno that I was going to buy her a bowl for water, which he thought was uproariously funny.

It is also incredibly dusty in Togo right now. I have never seen it like this. Apparently it has not rained in almost 2 months. The roads are forever shrouded in hovering clouds of dust, that explode out of potholes and around rocks as they are crunched and pounded by hoodless trucks and taxis. I shower 3 times a day to remove the thin film of red dirt that collects on my face, arms and ankles. When I lean on tables I can feel the grit and when I wipe my hand on my pant leg it turns the color of the road. Everyone wipes their motos before sitting down (lest they get their carefully pressed trousers dirty…) and some taxi-moto drivers cover their mouths with pieces of cloth, but only a few. And the Harmattan winds have not even arrived yet! People tell me that perhaps when it rains, the winds will follow, but it is indeed “their time.”

The weather and climate is so intensely different than 3 months ago it is almost hard to fathom. The extremity of this place...In rainy season my showers felt cold and my laundry never dried – today it dries in less than 15 minutes and I can’t get enough of the cold water pouring over my face. The sun is so intense that people start to wilt after 1PM and it is almost impossible to sit indoors. Even the air blowing on me at this very minute, from the fan I have placed directly behind me and pointed straight at my head, is hot.

At 2AM on the day after Christmas I went to Lomé to get my 2 bags. I came back with one, my backpack. Although I am a fairly low-maintenance person, I really haven’t needed that much besides the bar of soap and toothbrush that I bought at the marché for 4 days…this kind of simplicity is not something I’ve ever truly experienced before. It took a missing bag to make me realize that no, I really don’t need my big bag of toiletries and multitude of changes of clothes. That said…it’s amazing what a little shampoo and a loofah can do for the soul :)

24 December - Friends and Philosophies

2009-12-29T07:38:00.003-08:00

Sitting on the veranda (after I got my usual chiding for sitting in the sun) Maman Mathilde and I “cose.”

Coser (Ko-zay): to sit and chat. But it is more than just gossiping and talking, it is a way of passing the time, enjoying each others’ company and, for me, understanding the world around me. Togolese love to coser…they will cose for hours and hours and hours…to keep out of trouble, to keep from being bored, to simply take pleasure in their relationships with each other. Inno and his work friends cose about repayments and microcredit clients; Akpene and her ladies cose whose mother is sick and why men are such dogs; Me? I always want to cose about politics…but around election time, getting people to talk about opposition parties and corruption is like pulling teeth (However I do have some fairly unique relationships with people on the ground here and am slowly gleaning what I can about the atmosphere surrounding February’s presidential election…will write on that soon.)

Maman Mathilde and I talk about the French yovos in Kpalime and how they always (almost without exception, I will never understand…) walk the streets with the Rastamen…reinforcing stereotypes with every late night rendezvous and purchase of a djembe.

While I will always be a Yovo above anything else, I have true friends here that don’t just want my money or the social boost it gives them to lead me around town to buy artwork from their frères and soeurs. That know I will be back. That know I am different. I appreciate and respect my Togolese friends so much for this simple recognition and respect – and I in turn give them the same. Africa is complicated and people are at once incredibly transparent and extremely difficult to figure out, but one thing is universal I suppose: good folks are hard to find.

Last night, after fufu at Atsou’s, I went to a local bar with my FECECAV crew. Whenever I meet Yovos coming to Togo, whether for work or pleasure, they all want to know the same things: Where can I find the ex-pats? Where are the Yovo bars? Is it weird or real that either I don’t know or I stay away from these places as much as possible…I do all I can to separate myself from the European accents, the excessive drinking, the condescending , and even more upsetting, often subconscious, comments and looks…

I have written about this before, but every time I come back here and spend weeks on end without speaking to another Yovo I realize how abnormal that is…without any intention of sounding completely obnoxious, I prefer my Togolese friends, and am always surrounded by them. I am not here for some romantic or exotic experience, and this is wholly in line with my philosophy on international development, and hence, my projects and choices.

Peace Corps and Embassy jobs do not interest me…how can you put a timeline on how long you are willing to help people? After your service or contract you leave…with a full heart, a pat on your back, a bullet point on your resume, having built one clinic or temporarily assisted one farmers’ co-op. But where is the sustainability? Where is the genuinely-intentioned capacity building and giving the responsibility to Africans themselves, with some infusion of resources of course, to develop (NOT to their governments! Let me be very clear about this!) All of that said, I do not mean to cruelly devalue to work of Peace Corps volunteers, as I have known some great ones.

But without energy, liquidity and functioning telecommunications networks, this “development” seems so far out of reach. It is both wonderful and bizarre that I don’t get discouraged very often.

After energy, telecommunications is the next most important thing for economic development. Moov has still not returned, and TogoTelecom’s network is now so saturated that not only can you not get any calls though without redialing 10 times, but apparently Togocell has run out of new numbers…

But even in its absence, Togolese hearts still belong to Moov. Is it a sign of the population's tacit resistance to their corrupt state-run market. Everyone continues to talk about Moov’s free weekends and that “when Moov comes back” they will offer 5 free days of communication.

22-23 December - L'Arrive

2009-12-29T07:32:00.000-08:00

After a rainy day spent being a tourist in Casablanca (which made me almost as uncomfortable as that city itself…I don’t know what it is, but considering I’ve never been more thatn 50km from the airport, I will withhold judgement on Morrocco…) I was overcome with my now customary sense of pride and exhilaration when the low-lying tin roofs and pockets of LEDs of Lome came into sight. The plane’s windows fogged with thick, humid air. Temperature on the ground 26 degrees celcius. At midnight.

I got through customs quickly, but my glee soon dissipated when neither my solar panels nor my backpack appeared on the chugging baggage belt…not all that surprising but frustrating nonetheless…not having one’s toiletries in Togo isn’t quite the same as not having them in Florida…

Upon arriving in the baggage room my hurried American sense of accountability gave way to my African sense of patience. I waited while the sleepy eyed woman sweating behind the counter chatted in Ewe with the 15 frères in front of me, then eventually took my turn as she explained that perhaps my bags would arrive on the next flight…on Saturday…my skinny jeans immediate felt even sweatier at the thought of having to wear them for 4 days...

If it had just been the panels that didn’t arrive I would have lost all hope…but since it was both, I took the handwritten receipt, looking longingly at the JFK electronic tracking numbers I saved (for some reason…)

“Madame Mapwo” (I want to see) said the grinning attendant of my carry-on bag as I tried to exit the terminal, but when I responded cheerfully that it was just equipment for an NGO project in Kpalime, and thanked her in Ewe, she clapped and let me pass, to find Inno, Atsou and Jules waiting for me on the other side of the frosted glass.

Unfortauntely we couldn’t find fufu at 1AM, but we did stop for a Flag before speeding towards Kpalime in the rented car they had pooled together money to bring for my bags…dommage that there were no bags, but I love my friends.

Trouble With the Blog in Paradise...I mean Africa...

2009-12-28T04:40:00.000-08:00

Shocking I know...

I'm really not sure if it's the Microsoft Word circa 1985, the viruses or my USB but I can't seem to get my blogs to open...since I write them on my laptop and then use my precious (and expensive!) internet time for uploading, I have to doanload them and do a simple copy and paste. But we all know "simple" in Togo is un autre chose.

And believe me I have tried...yesterday I waited for the cyber café to open "in the afternoon," which finally happened at 4pm (it is amazing how patient I am here, as I've said before, no one who knows me and my work ethic would believe it) but to no avail. I have however written 3 blogs and will post them as soon as possible, as I am sure you're all chomping at the bit :)

All is well in Togo, I am eating fufu almost 3 times per day, my solar panels have finally arrived and I am trés contente.

Stay tuned...merry merry to everyone from Kpalimé.

Smoky, sweet air, 95 degrees, raw onions, humming motos and giggling toddlers, fingers snapping and tongues hissing...bliss...

Snowed in NY...New Travel Dates Dec 22 - Jan 6

2009-12-20T19:21:00.000-08:00

I suppose it could be worse...well it always could...but...

35 mile backup on the NJ Turnpike due to mass panic over a Northeaster, then over a foot of snow = Kira is not nearly as close to the equator as she should be right now...instead of Casablanca I am sitting in my sister's Brooklyn apartment trying to remain prepared (mentally and otherwise) for my trip. This entails not unpacking my jammed backpack because I want that t-shirt that is rolled up and stuffed in the bottom left corner, attempting not to overanalyze the reason I missed that plane and simply containing my dissapointment and frustration...I had this trip planned perfectly!!

Next flight to Lome is on Tuesday. And I will be on it. Better late than never. And I guess it WILL be kind of cool to show everyone in Togo photos of a foot of snow, the Dyker Heights Christmas light show and other winter wonderland-ness as the reason I was delayed a few days.

My next post will most likely be from a sweaty cyber cafe. I can't wait to get there. But I must admit, I did enjoy the snow.

Thank You...and one week to the beautiful return...

2009-12-11T12:17:00.001-08:00

I am in between.

One week ago I was running around frantically finalizing logistics for SunPower Afrique's benefit event. One week from now I will be on my way back to West Africa, greeting l'Harmattan, my FECECAV family and a so-close-to-the-pilot-project-we-can-taste-it excitement in Kpalime.

As I have noted before, it is strange to coexist in these two worlds, both working towards the same goal and equally critical spaces of influence, productivity and resources. Today, on December 11th, 2009, I am directly in the middle :)

I'm so lucky.

While I am taking this trip over the holidays to relax, take some deep breaths and revel in the African pace of life and work (18Dec - 3Jan) I will of course be busy while on the ground...everything is easier to accomplish face-to-face, without exorbitantly expensive phone calls and crackling connections, without language barriers and borders...

I will update kirawithoutborders while I am away, as per tradition. Thank you so much to everyone who attended our benefit last week, it was special to be surrounded and supported by such a wonderful group of people helping to make this all happen. Special thanks to my volunteers - without you the Celebration would not have been possible.

We are moving closer to the first Solar Loans and FECECAV's solar system...the word is OUT! SunPower Afrique is making moves. 2010 will be a big year.

Celebration of Solar Energy & Microfinance Changing Lives - TOMORROW NIGHT!

2009-12-03T14:28:00.000-08:00

Read the write-up from today's Main Line Times:
http://www.mainlinemedianews.com/articles/2009/12/04/main_line_times/life/doc4b1753dd7f40a131277600.txt

Hope to see you there!
Kira

Help SunPower Afrique Win $$ on Facebook!

2009-11-25T11:57:00.001-08:00

You're Invited! To SunPower Afrique's First Annual Celebration of Solar Energy and Microfinance Changing Lives - Dec. 4, 2009 7-10PM

2009-11-05T07:55:00.001-08:00

Click here to view the full invite!

You're Invited
TO A CELEBRATION OF SOLAR ENERGY AND
MICROFINANCE CHANGING LIVES
Friday, December 4, 2009
7-10 PM

The Shipley School
814 Yarrow Street - Bryn Mawr, PA
Click here for directions

Silent art auction
West African drumming & dancing
Raffle giveaways

Tickets $25 ($10 with student ID) - raffle ticket included

To purchase tickets: events@sunpowerafrique.org. Walk-ins welcome

SunPower Afrique is a local 501(c)(3) non-profit with a mission to reduce poverty in West Africa by connecting microfinance institutions and small businesses to solar energy. www.sunpowerafrique.org

First Annual SunPower Afrique Benefit Event: December 4th, 7-10PM

2009-10-27T10:05:00.000-07:00

To raise funds for our pilot project, still slated for March 2010 (after Togolese elections in January), we are organizing a benefit event in the Philadelphia area on December 4th from 7-10PM.

We will be putting on a silent auction, featuring the work of local, established artists, including several works by Mary and John Costanza.

The event will also be a celebration of West African culture, with a drumming and dance troupe, food and drink, and raffle giveaways.

Save the date and stay tuned for details!

If you have ideas or would like to help out with planning, please contact kira.costanza@sunpowerafrique.org

Kira to speak at PA Renewable Energy Fest this Friday

2009-09-14T07:17:00.000-07:00

Hi Everyone -

Just a quick announcement that I will be speaking about SunPower Afrique at the PA Renewable Energy Festival in Kempton, PA this Friday at 9AM. While I know the timing for this is tough, if you're in the area please do come by!

For more information on the festival, speakers, directions, etc. please visit the festival's website at www.paenergyfest.com SunPower Builders/SunPower Solar will have a booth there all weekend as well.

If you can't make it, please pass the message along to someone else who might.

Thanks!
Kira
www.sunpowerafrique.org

Photos - August 2009 - Togo

2009-09-10T08:49:00.000-07:00

SunPower Afrique - Togo - August 2009

2-3 Septembre, 2009

2009-09-03T03:58:00.000-07:00

I am officially addicted to fufu…at the beginning of this week I pretty much panicked at the thought of not being able to find it regularly (the bagged yam flakes that you find in the states are just not the same…) and have found a way to eat it at every meal since Sunday. I often wonder why the preferred meal of the Togolese is (ironically) so difficult to make and spoils quickly, but then I remember, because it is just so good. And rich in vitamins, and fills you up. Togolese cuisine and I have become very good friends.

My last weeks in Togo have been as fast paced as West Africa allows. I have made several trips to Lomé, getting (another) transit visa in order to get to my flight in Ghana, meeting with Maersk at the Port of Lomé to understand the logistics and necessary formalities for transporting my solar panels from the capital to FECECAV’s site in Kpalimé, and trying, again without success, to retrieve my recepissé. However, I made some serious ground, thanks to my dear friend Jacques at the CNM, a little yovo-attitude and a few thousand CFA (of which the latter is usually MUCH more well received…), SunPower Afrique will have its recognition by the Togolese government, and therefore security and relative ease for operations, by next week at the latest.

Everyone here was shocked at my tenacity, as after I was rebuffed and played by the minister’s assistant 2 times, 3 times, and 9 months later, I moved on and went over his head. The Togolese associations, trying to get the same recepissé for their projects (which, to be fair, are often dysfunctional NGOs that only exist to bouff money from the Europeean Union, UNDP and other such well-established international development organs that prefer to evaluate their water sanitation projects from an air conditioned office in Geneva), for the most part, wait. And wait. And wait. And you all know that patience is not one of my strong points (even after all I have learned here in Togo!) particularly with corrupt politicians’ chargés d’affaires.

I now have a friend in the Secretary General of the Ministry of Decentralization and Local Associations, and not only understand the protocols and fees, but have a stamped copy of the law. None of my partners take lightly my ability to get things done here, which is largely a product of the relationships I’ve formed because I embrace people and culture, will talk to nearly anyone but now also know when to keep my mouth shut, and am truly motivated by what I am doing.

On Saturday, Aminou and I gave a 30 minute radio emission on Radio Planete Plus, “The Voice of the Hills of Kpalimé,”explaining what solar energy and SunPower Afrique are, why they’re important in Togo and that if they’re interested, they should come to our solar power demonstration on Monday at Petite Suisse in Kpalimé. MC Jimmy played terrible 80’s love ballads for “breaks” and recorded the radio spot on a cassette, shaking his head with an awo when I handed him a blank cd.

I have been trying since I arrived to recruit people to come to Monday’s presentation, and hundreds of people knew about it. However, and highlighting even more the importance of the market sensibilisation, education and outreach I am doing, only about 40 showed up. And only an hour late. I was thrilled.

I greeted everyone in the audience and presented the agenda, as required, then gave a brief introduction to SunPower Afrique and why the deployment of solar energy is so critical in Togo. Then I gave a demonstration of how solar energy works, explaining how when the sun hits the panel, the electrons in the silica move around and create current, which is then stored in the battery, sent through the inverter and, ta-da! Lights up an 11watt CFL. Everyone clapped and cheered when the lightbulb came on. It was a great moment, for once I have no words to describe it. I then talked about the mission of SunPower Afrique, the pilot project, the new Solar Loan product and left time for questions and refreshments (which is why people showed up of course :)).

The Solar Loan terms and agreements are ready to go, including carefully calculated and negotiated interest rates and terms that can both maintain our mission of bringing solar to the poorest of the poor and sustain needs for loan management and overhead. Directors and Loan Officers have been briefed and are ready and willing to answer questions when interested clients inquire about the new product – my eyes and ears on the ground to start finding and qualified, interested candidates for the first round of Solar Loans in 2010.

I have learned more than ever this trip that a huge part of this project’s success, as well as my own self-respect, requires me to BE HERE. While I am needed in the states at SunPower, which continues to expand at a record pace, if I want this project to really take off in Togo I am needed on the ground. One month just does not suffice. To do one installation here and there, as with the roofs of MFIs, can be maintained in this way, but to grow the Solar Loan program, which is what I am increasingly inspired by, I will need to spend more time in Togo each year.

The presidential election is in February, which falls unfortunately right when I wanted to return and launch the pilot project. In 2005, there was patchy to severe violence surrounding the elections. Today, people are even more disillusioned with Faure and there is the petite problem of his imprisoned brother Patcha and his supporters. And then there is always the French, with their diplomatic fingers deeply and inappropriately wound around Togolese politics. Clearly the 2010 elections won’t be an example of “free and fair multiparty democratic electrical processes” and I have learned my share about corruption (requiring some selective editing of the Togo section in my business plan…) but will there be violence? No one knows, no one will say, but as opposition and campaign posters have started to appear in Lomé, I can sense the tacit nervousness. People are preparing themselves for February.

After much advice and conversations with my partners, we have determined that it is not prudent (yes for safety reasons, but mostly just for the success of the project…) to start things until after the election. Therefore, I think that we will return to Togo in March, to install the PV system for FECECAV’s HQ here in Kpalimé, as well as spend time doing outreach and vetting and choosing candidates for the first Solar Loans. To do all of this, I am thinking to open a small boutique/storefront for SunPower Afrique en ville.

Sadly, I will miss this weekend’s Epervier’s game, a massive event throughout the country, particularly since they are playing Gabon, a West African neighbor. But I love that when I leave Togo, I am always sent off with a “Go quickly so that you can come back,” to which I respond “Yes, quickly quickly.”

Ѐ Mayimava, kaba kaba looo.

Blitta

2009-09-01T03:25:00.000-07:00

So much to say and do, so little time. I am not ready to come back to my blackberry. To marketing solutions and powerclerk applications. But this has been a fruitful trip, and I have learned a lot, about corruption and development, about partners and voleurs, about for better and for worse, and for all of it I am continually grateful.

I have written about my experience with my “recepissé” (authorization to operate my NGO in Togo, which I still don’t officially have in my hands by the way) but still haven’t wrapped my head enough around the situation to put it out here in writing. I’ll get there soon. And hopefully by that time I will have the silly little piece of paper tucked safely away in my backpack, having made 15 photocopies and distributed them to be stored in secure locations throughout West Africa.

Last weekend Inno and I took a 3 day trip to Blitta, a small town smack in the middle of Togo (but still considered “The North”, both ethnically and geographically…) where Inno grew up, and where his mother and sister and lots of petit frères and soeurs still live.

We arrived at the station in Kpalimé at 9am, since it can take many hours to get to the north, depending on the condition of the roads, and we wanted to get there before dark. We did not have such luck…

However, my time sitting at the station waiting gave me ample time to consider the cultural beehive (I can’t think of a better way to describe it) that was occurring around me – the Kpalimé station is a mesmerizing place. Everything moves. Everyone is hawking something, shoving handfuls of peanuts and toothpaste and matches into jam-packed vans of sweltering passengers waiting to depart. Barefooted chauffeurs’ apprentices and laborers clamber over mountains of woven plastic bags of charcoal and maize, pyramids of plasticware, and stacked yellow jugs of cooking oil, masterfully securing the towering rooftop cargo with thin cords and canvas. Stern-faced African women survey their goods, hands on hips, hissing angrily if their basket of flipflops is shoved too far beneath a greasy carafe of palm oil. When you think they are done, they add another layer, usually of tires or something heavy to weigh it down. Then the goats, sheep and chickens – they get attached last. It is a miracle of physics not only that these vans very infrequently tip over, but also that nothing ever falls off. Well, rarely.

We waited at the station for more than 4 hours, finally making our grand exit at about 1:30pm.

And a grand exit it was…in a Mitsubishi van were crammed 19 people, 2 toddlers and a chauffeur. Lucky for us, since we were early to arrive, Inno and I found seats next to a real window – as opposed to those that had been reconstructed with layers of clear packing tape. Under a weight of rooftop cargo whose height rivaled that of the van itself, the supportive rocks were removed from behind our tires - which to me seemed far too small and lacking the appropriate air pressure to support the load they bore – and we were pushed by a gang of teenage boys until the engine took and we jolted triumphantly out onto the road. 10 feet later the engine stalled. It was one of those moments when I unintentionally burst of laughing, just couldn’t stop, and, since I had already befriended everyone in the van and tried out my Ewe on them, they too started grinning and clicking and Togo-Togo-ing, even Inno, who tends to be completely and overly composed in public. 5 minutes later we were on our way again.

The road North out of Kpalimé, which we would normally take to pick up the Route Internationale (the best and biggest road in Togo – and the only road for tractor trailers– that goes from the port of Lomé all the way up into Burkina Faso) in Atakpame, is currently impassable. That road, which I so frequently traveled last year through Lavie to Adéta, basically is no more. The 20 minute drive to Adeta now takes upwards of 2 hours by moto. Even small cars can no longer make the trip and chauffeurs, to protect their vehicles, now refuse to take the Adéta road and take the longer route through the town of Notse instead.

The state of the roads in Togo right now is downright deplorable and really, I’d appreciate it if the customs fees I am going to pay to import my solar panels could be applied to, at a minimum, filling in some potholes. I wonder who I could talk to about that…

The Notse road was an experience. It is lined with forests of teak and fields of corn, unpaved and a deep red color. Few craters. Pretty, I thought. Wrong. Within 10 minutes a thin film of maroonish-orange dust had settled on every exposed surface in the van, and was swirling around my feet, in the air and in between my teeth. 10 minutes later it was no longer a film but thick layer of red dirt caked on clothes, fingernails, eyelashes, earings, watches, afros and beards. And we still had 5-6 more hours to go…

Luckily, we arrived in Notse an hour or so later and, since the chauffeur and several other passengers were Muslims, we stopped for them to pray, which gave me an opportunity to wipe off my feet, with a dirty blue windbreaker that people were passing around, before we hit the paved road.

8 hours, 1 can of Chinese-manufactured “brake and steering fluid,” a flat tire and 2 sets of Ramadan prayers later, we arrived in Blitta.

Blitta is a Faure Gnassingbe stronghold. It is the town where he got his start in politics and began being groomed for the presidency… The first thing I spotted driving into town was a big white graffiti that read: “Avec Faure c’est la paix” (With Faure, it is peace.) Interestingly, in this town of several hundred thousand, when the high-tension electricity lines broke down a few weeks ago, Faure bought them a shiny new groupe electrogene (generator) and fuel to power the entire town. The lights go on every morning at 8am, out from noon to 2pm, and then are shut off for the night at 10pm.

Blitta is primarily ethnically Kabye and Kotokoli, which are also the 2 main languages spoken, although nearly 30 languages/dialects are spoken within the town. While when I first came to Togo, Kabye, Kotokoli and their various dialects sounded similar to Ewe and I had a hard time telling them apart, but now they strike me as starkly different. Kabye is a rounder language, words spoken with many trills and rolls, and without that splendid agitation that characterizes Ewe. Wordflow and sentence structure are more connected and legato , making it seem shier and more subtle than its southern linguistic partner.

Kabyes and Kotokolis too have a word for white girl, as I soon learned, when hoardes of children (who see yovos even less frequently than those in Kpalimé, since there is no real reason for a tourist to come to Blitta…unless you want to see a cotton factory, which is the town’s main bragging point) began hissing “Anasarra! Anasarrrrra! Anasarra!”

While in Blitta I met Innocent’s family and drank lots of Tsoukatsouk (pronounced Chook-a-chook), which is the Northern equivalent of Sodabi – but it is more like a warm beer and thankfully tastes less like gasoline burning down your throat. Inno’s mother and sister make and sell Tsoukatsouk out of their house, and people come to drink and be merry throughout the day and night. The biggest customers? Gendarmie and police. Have to be good and sauced before heading to work if you want to be taken seriously as a law-enforcement authority in Togo. I was also completely amazed at how all the children, even babies (think 4 months old) chug down the milky beverage, beads of sweat immediately forming on their tiny foreheads. It is a bit troubling, because yes, there is often a “slight” problem with alcoholism, however subtle and taboo, in rural Africa…

Because the trip was so horrific on the way there, Inno and I opted for the night-route back…meaning we left Blitta at 2am and went directly to Lomé, arriving around 7:30am. Driving through the suburbs of Lomé at 6am was just like driving through at 9am, everyone was already awake, slowly and methodically going about their business. I often wonder if the reason no one sleeps late in Togo is really beacuse of the heat…is it just because everyone else does, because you know you can sleep for 3 more hours in the afternoon, or just because there is just nothing else to do but get on with your day. I often find myself feeling that deep sadness, watching the mothers and grandmothers and daughters and sisters carrying huge pots of water and bundles of wood on their heads at such an early hour, sleep still in the corners of their eyes. We must always remember that we are the lucky ones.

Another update on SunPower Afrique before I head back stateside – I am a bit behind on my blogging, but coming soon! K

Yovo Ameyibo

2009-08-28T09:24:00.000-07:00

During the months of July – September/October, the electricity cuts usually only last a few minutes. They are still far too frequent, reminding me every time of the fragility of the supply of energy in this country. When it rains often, the hydro plants in Ghana produce enough electricity to export, and therefore Togo has light…when the Volta region is dry, Togo is in the dark. It’s that simple.

And while during rainy season the blackouts are short they still create a major nuisance for everyone using a computer, having to shut down and quickly save, as transformers blink and beep in exasperation, and (tragically) fans whir to a halt. Not to mention the power surges that drain computer batteries and slowly wear away at other equipment. I’m sitting here in the CECAV-Avenir office, and they have cut the power 4 times in the last 20 minutes, for less than 3 minutes each time – just to give you an idea. Last time it came back on the internet connection came back “limited or no connectivity” and then went down, since it’s so sensitive. It won’t come back until tomorrow.

It never ceases to amaze me how the ever present white noise of technology can fill up an office. And, how here, when that background hum ceases, you hear everything outside and remember where you are – people pounding on sheet metal, staccato Ewe greetings, sputtering 1960s diesel MAC trucks crashing in and out of potholes… (did I mention how DESTROYED all the roads are here right now? It’s pitiable, it takes 4 times as long to get anywhere and if you don’t have a moto, there are several major towns you just can’t get to. More on that later.)

The energy situation isn’t the only thing that’s different in Togo in August. First of all, school is out for summer vacation – the morning and afternoon processions of, uniformed children are no more. And since there are no amusement parks or Julian Krinksky day camps in Kpalimé, the kids amuse themselves with tires and rocks, edito and ludo, and, of course, squealing at yovos.

Nothing dries in Togo during rainy season…ever. Since I’ve been here, the laundry I washed (well, just to clarify, I started washing, and then when my knuckles started bleeding after 5 minutes Inno finished it…yovo skin in so infuriatingly fragile!) in the first week is still damp. Every morning we put it out on the line and race home at lunchtime to bring it in as it starts to downpour – if we’re not too late. It’s hilarious in this completely twisted way…just like the constant stomach problems, fatigue and headaches, and fingers that smell like onions and fish for days at a time.

The other thing that is fascinating about Kpalimé in August is the plethora of tourists! Everyone keeps saying that this year there are more yovos than ever in Togo, since the political problems (at least on the surface…) are becoming a distant past, diplomatic ties with the E.U. have been restored and foreign aid is slowly – SLOWLY – trickling back into the country.

It is bizarre not to be one of the only “established” yovos in Kpalimé, because in addition to the tourists who come for a few days to visit the waterfalls and Centre Artisnal, there are students from France, Germany and Switzerland who come to volunteer with various orphanages, environmental NGOs and community associations. I try so hard not to be judgemental (isn’t that terrible?!) We joke that on sunny days the yovos come out of their hotel rooms to get an African tan and then, when it starts to rain, they disappear. It is however a strange and fascinating reality…

SunPower Afrique featured on Kiva Blog and linked in NY Times!

2009-08-20T03:03:00.000-07:00

Check it out!

(please copy and paste these links into your browser)

http://fellowsblog.kiva.org/2009/08/19/power-to-the-people/

www.nytimes.com/greeninc

Please support our pilot project at www.sunpowerafrique.org!

18 Aout 2009: Making SunPower Afrique Happen!

2009-08-18T09:27:00.000-07:00

Working on my own here, it’s sometimes difficult and always stressful to stay on task and complete tasks efficiently – particularly in an environment where a) there is an acceptable synergy between sleep and work and b) it often takes a small miracle to print, download or execute any other seemingly menial electronic task…

However, I am slowly ticking off the items on my ambitious list of goals for this trip. Which makes me trés contente :)

My time in Lomé was not spent only staring at landfills and fanning charcoal to make my morning coffee. I had several very important meetings, all bringing me closer and closer to making this pilot project happen. I can’t describe the overflowing excitement that I feel when I think about it…because with the success of the pilot project, SunPower Afrique will surge forward to achieve its goals much more easily – with a concrete project installed on the ground. People will believe me, and they will believe in solar.

1. The CNM
In Lomé I met with Jacques, the Director of Operations at the CNM (National Microfinance Committee), who has proven himself to be a helpful and faithful partner. I briefed him on project’s development, including fundraising, the terms of the “Solar Loan” product, relationships with partners and status of official documents (receipt of my 501(c)(3) and my recepissé…) Jacques mentioned that he had heard wind of some other solar projects being undertaken by a Canadian NGO, an international organization, etc. and that I should hurry to be the first to have something in place on the ground – therefore being recognized as “the first” by the Togolese government. Even more urgency and momentum to SunPower Afrique!

I also shared with Jacques a Memorandum of Understanding that I hope to sign, between SunPower Afrique and the CNM, displaying proof of our cooperative partnership and commitment to work together to achieve both the goals of SunPower Afrique’s programs for MFIs in Togo, but also the goals of the National Strategy for Microfinance in Togo (modernization and informatisation in particular – both greatly supported by reliable, solar electricity!)

2. M. Lare & Training
I also met in Lomé with M. Lare, who will assist with our training program as a Togolese representative and “language liaison” to complement the expertise of Jon (and hopefully Ron C!) Importantly, M. Lare and I also discussed that we will not be taking this project to any ministers or government associations just yet…the political environment here is a complex, multifaceted and fascinating animal. One must allez trés trés doucement…

I also sent messages my other contacts for training in Togo, to discuss the expansion of training programs to technical schools and even the University of Lomé. This is further down the road, but it’s never too soon to get sharp minds on the same page.

3. CECAV-Avenir and the Solar Loan Program
Here in Kpalimé I have been meeting with Daniel, the DG of FECECAV and the champion of solar for MFIs in Togo, who I cannot thank enough for his vision and commitment to piloting SunPower Afrique’s programs with his institution. Daniel and I have chosen a date and started advertising for my presentation to FECECAV staff and clients at the end of the month, drafted and accepted a Memorandum of Understanding. (NB: Interestingly, while Daniel believes in SunPower Afrique, he insisted on adding an “Article 4: Annullment”, which states that “If the PV systems installed by SunPower Afrique do not work, this contract is null and void.” I added it, because this is not a fear I share with my Togolese counterparts. And if we cannot live up to this, what are we doing here anyway?)

SunPower Afrique posters now hang in the CECAV-Avenir salon, and SunPower Afrique Solar Loan pamphlets are at the cash window and in Inno’s office, where most clients frequent. I have already had several inquiries, but it is true, this market will take a while to develop and outreach and sensibilisation will be a massive undertaking…

I also presented to Daniel a draft of the description and terms of the “Solar Loan” – guaranties and collateral, loan terms and interest rates, etc. – which we will continue to finesse and eventually sign a mutally agreeable contract before I leave in September. This document is a huge step forward in making the Solar Loan portion of SunPower Afrique’s project a reality.

4. Abby the Kiva Fellows Blog
In addition to this work with my Togolese partners, there is news on another front. A Kiva Fellow Alum named Abby Gray, who worked in Togo as a Fellow at the same time as I did last year (with different MFIs,) has taken an interest in my project and offered to help me with publicity. She came up with the idea of posting an article on the Kiva Fellows Blog about SunPower Afrique. She then took the initiative to go straight to Kiva and pitch the idea –and they said yes! She has written an incredibly well-composed, inspiring article that will hopefully appear in front of Kiva enthusiasts worldwide! This will be fantastic exposure and I CANNOT thank her enough :) I will post the link to the blog as soon as it becomes available.

5. Darren, Claude and the New York Times!
Thanks to my dear friend Megan Rhodes, Togo PCV Alum (whose work with Chantal and Aklala Batik – www.akala.blogspot.com – has transformed a tiny batik business in Togo into a thriving, internationally known enterprise), I have been connected to a PCV named Darren Legge. Before coming to Togo, Darren was a solar installer in Colorado with Standard Renewables, and is, like me, inspired by the prospects for solar in Togo. Not only has he been working with a man who is starting a renewable energy business (wind and solar), here in Kpalimé and in Atakpamé (Claude Amouzou-Togo of TOGO-ENERGY, with whom I hope to partner in a serious way…) but Darren managed to get a link to my website into an article about solar in Africa in the New York Times!

See here for the article: www.nytimes.com/greeninc

SunPower Afrique has gone NY Times. Yessss. Akpe ka ka ka siaaa.

15-17 Aout 2009 ~ Togo Togo

2009-08-17T04:11:00.000-07:00

Nothing like a weekend in Lomé to generate an even deeper appreciation for my lovely Kpalimé…and to remind me both how poor and underdeveloped Togo really is, but also why I love this country so much.

Lomé is filthy. Open sewers line the dusty streets, clogged not only with human and g-d knows what else’s excrement, but plastic bags, cans and months (if not years…) of an overpopulated city’s worth of garbage. Driving past the lagoon you almost have to hold your breath, the smell of waste and rot is so potent…and just across the street, children run around barefoot (or naked if they’re not so lucky,) rilfing through heaps of trash in the hopes of finding 100CFA buried in the sand or a piece of scrap metal or broken electronic to resell. Everything moves. Everything makes noise.

Life in Lomé is twice/three-times as expensive as in any village or town in Togo. Life is difficult and dusty and dirty and hot. And yet everyone wants to come here, live here, be able to tell their frères and soeurs that they live in the capital. Like much of the world, the city reek of opportunity, growth, modernization and purpose, but Lomé is a bizarre paradox of these qualities, having crumbled to its knees in the past 20 years due to the pathetic loss of all foreign aid. It is tragic in the full sense of the word, it is hard to see and it breaks my heart.

Because the pride is still there. Everyone is always smiling and life moves goes on with laughter and love, pure joy, of life. Togo is a special place and despite my continually rising cynicism for international development, the culture of aid and “good governance,” I will never give up hope for the Togolese people – because they are the most wonderful and resilient that I have ever known. Despite my increasingly angry intolerance for the “Hiss Yovo VA!” (Come here white girl!) and gangs of voleurs and bandits that burn holes in my backpack with their eyes…we should all take a few lessons from the Togolese on how to enjoy life and good plate of fufu. And they know it! They take pride in their “accueil” (welcoming) and take the corruption of their government and society, which trickles down to every radio emission and every sale at the marché, in stunning stride.

Sometimes I completely freak out about what I am trying to do here…the fact that I went to get my recepissé from the Minister of Decentralization and his aide, M. Honore, who walks with a limp and an overconfident flicker in his beady eyes, with whom I left the complete file 9 months ago, hasn’t even looked at it yet…but agreed to take a peek if I gave him 15,000CFA (about $40) and, if I was really interested in getting a receipt for this, I should slip another 10,000 in there for good measure.

The fact that uploading this very blog is such a production…which I am writing in word while waiting for the page the upload…ever so slowly…I am at one of the cyber cafés in Kpalimé right now (the only one worth paying for…haha), just finished waiting out a “baisse de tension” aka the opposite of a power surge where all of the computers go down and we wait patiently (or not so patiently…) for them to first turn back on and second for internet connection to come back…

But those are only material, immediate things. It is difficult to be so deeply enmeshed in my project and my field work knowing that I am here only for a month, that my other life is waiting for me (and important work and contacts and projects and emails and proposals and applications and meetings) and that this duplicity is constantly pulling at me. Obliging complicated and painful thoughts about the true meaning of commitment and success of this venture.

12-13 August 2009: Club Rotary de Kpalimé

2009-08-13T04:35:00.005-07:00

The Kpalimé Rotary club has 6 members. They meet every Wednesday at 7pm at Hotel Cristal, in the bar, where 6 plastic chairs are placed in a circle around a 3 small tables pushed together. When I arrived for the meeting, which I had been invited to 2 days earlier by Ephram, the first Togolese Rotarian that I found (or rather, was introduced to me by a friend at FECECAV) the electricity had already been out for about 30 minutes and people were milling about the hotel lobby with cellphones and flashlights. People always seem to speak more quietly and move more slowly when there is a coupure.

In the bar, a small and empty room off of the lobby, the Rotarians started to trickle in at about 7:15. Soon the Rotary bell was placed on the table and the now familiar practice of hand shaking, snapping, nodding and comment cava-ing took place. I find it very special that no matter where in the world you find yourself, in Collegeville, PA or in Kpalimé, Togo, you can find this Rotary bell and the same vibe of comradery and routine.

The president of the club is Angelique, a friendly yet reserved woman who owns and operates a restaurant near Petit Suisse called Le Gourmet. Out of the 6 members, I was very surprised to learn that 3 are women! And even more surprised when I was introduced to Angelique as the president – who ever said that African Rotary clubs are not progressive have never been to Kpalimé.

All members of the club arrived at the meeting in full Rotary garb – meaning they were all dressed in shirts made from “Rotary Pagnes” (yes this exists! They are yellow, blue and red, covered with Rotary symbolism and stamped with District 9100) and carrying folders with Rotary logos. I pointed at my Rotary pin and felt embarrassed that I had completely forgotten to bring them the Collegeville Club flag…(I will have to mail this to them at some later date.)

With 6 flashlights pointed directly at my face, Angelique introduced me to club (Ephram has introduced me to her before the meeting) and then went, in archetypal Togolese fashion, on to her agenda, whose procedure appeared even more exaggerated than l normally perceive them at such gatherings, when combined with the formalities of Rotary (can you imagine? ) I squinted and smiled, introducing myself as Kira Costanza, Club Rotary de Collegeville, Pennsylvanie, classification Energie Solaire.

Angelique started with “Pensees du Jour” (Thoughts of the Day), and when no one answered, I decided that they should know now rather than later that when no one speaks up, it will always be me! I thanked them for inviting me and said something about being excited to tell them about my ideas for partnership between my club and theirs. Angelique then recounted the birthdays of members of the club that had taken place that week – none – while the others around the table chatted amongst themselves. Angelique then moved on to the next item on her agenda but was interrupted by the man sitting to my right, Horace (who I quickly learned might be the only one in the club who rivals my talkative-ness) loudly said that he hadn’t heard the birthday announcements. Byll, to my right, muttered that he had been too busy staring at me…Angelique smiled and said, ok, I will recount this week’s birthdays, and then stopped, took a breath and said: none. Everyone laughed.

When I met Ephram for the first time he told me that their club is tiny, but they are close. Recruitment is difficult in Kpalimé, where many are unfamiliar with Rotary and, therefore (as usual with something that is unknown or different) people think it is some kind of sect or otherwise mysterious faction...his favorite thing about Rotary? The opportunities that it has given him to travel throughout West Africa. What a great thing.

Halfway through the meeting, the lights came back on, drinks were served, and a TV in the corner of the room flashed back on to loud static, which no one but me seemed to notice…Angelique talked over it, reading an email out loud from the Rotary Foundation and asking Byll to give the weekly report. Byll kindly asked that we come back to him - which we never did.

I was then asked to present myself, my project and why I was there. I circulated SunPower Afrique materials, the letter in French signed by the president of my club in PA and my certificate of membership. I have given my “schpeel” so many times now that you would think that it has become so habitual that it risks appearing banal and impersonal – not so! Particularly here in Togo, particularly in the context of Rotary, where my passion, motivation and sincerity seem to shine through my yovo skin and light eyes. I do not take this for granted.

They asked many questions, each having their own personal interests of course, which I tried to circumvent (as usual…) and explain the larger vision of SunPower Afrique and my interests in collaborating with Rotary clubs in Togo, particularly in Kpalimé. We spoke at length, got to know each other a bit, and I was invited back next week (more than invited actually – told that as a Rotarian I am obligated to come back every week while I am here in Kpalimé!)

The club in Kpalimé in keen to form an official partnership with us in Collegeville, which is a great start to a collaboration with District 9100, allowing us to match funds through Rotary International. It will take time of course, but the initial seeds have been sown. I am also excited to help the club in Kpalimé recruit more members through an international partnership and exposure through SunPower Afrique (if I may be so vain…)

This morning I went to see Angelique at her restaurant, at her request, where she gave me a Rotary pagne. I am to have it made into a shirt for next week’s meeting.
In light of some recent “issues” with one of my partners here in Togo, making it even more difficult than usual to know who to trust (while I am never alone, and am forever grateful to my partners on all sides of the ocean, being a female yovo trying to pull off a big project in Africa is infinitely complex…), I am very happy to have met a group of individuals that I feel connected to and in whom I can authentically instill some confidence.

I will try to send some photos of us in our Rotary shirts next week. Hope all is well back at Mooreheads and see you soon! :)

10 August 2009: Moov-ing Backwards?

2009-08-11T04:36:00.000-07:00

On the radio this morning the familiar crackling voice of PeaceFM announced that, due to a massive hike in taxes on their operations, Moov, the (only) independent cellphone service provider in Togo, will cease its operations in the country. Hours later, the logo, name and service bars disappeared from cellphones throughout Togo. Togocell, the state-run provider has once again retained its monopoly on telecommunications, having swiftly eliminated its competition with a stroke of the bureaucratic (and not so proverbial) pen.

To me this is very disappointing…what with my preconceived notions of democracy, free markets and unfettered capitalism… Inno just chuckled and said “quel comedie.” Togo, having taken leaps (understood in the proper context of course…) towards democratic systems of not only governance but economic growth in the past 10 years, seems to be stumbling. Interestingly, this is all happening months before elections in 2010. Is there more than one candidate? Definitely not. HOWEVER, I did watch a music video last night in which a Togolese rapper, S-Jev, defiantly reprimanded the government for the poverty and poor health of its population, deplorable infrastructure and corruption. Under the previous regime this would not have been allowed and S-Jev would have been imprisoned faster than he could have asked for another ball of fufu – so there is indeed an increased sense and semblance of civil liberties.

It seems however that this forward movement is being staved off in the world of commerce. Which is not necessarily good news for SunPower Afrique! I have, in my backpack, a photocopied decree from the Minister of Ports, citing that all solar equipment can be imported into the country without taxes. I have mentioned this before, but want to reiterate what a big deal this is for a country with no natural resources, that therefore relies hugely on import taxes. Once again I question my idealism – will a piece of paper in a yovo’s hands actually mean anything? If the government can snuff out Moov, it can surely make the work of a startup nonprofit quite challenging….I will be taking a tour of the Port of Lomé in the next few weeks, and am carefully calculating my approach towards the presentation of this document to the appropriate individual…

I have also been repeatedly told that my “recepisse” (my documentation to legally operate my business/NGO in Togo) is waiting for my signature at the Minister of Decentralization. I will go to find it on Friday – wish me luck!

* * *
After watching the evening news and asking everyone I see whether they think Moov will be back, it appears that the Togolese government is in the process of “negotiating” a new contract…we shall see…in the interim, those with the means to do so have all run out and bought Togocell sim cards.

It was an interesting day in Togo, not only this fiasco with Moov, but the government also unveiled its new passports, which have been issued in order to “modernize their travel documents.” All citizens wishing to leave the country must now buy a new passport (30,000CFA/about $60), as the old ones are no longer valid.

It poured rain for 3 hours yesterday afternoon, prohibiting me from getting back to CECAV-Avenir (I am telling you, you have never seen such a downpour…) Inno and I sat outside on wooden stools, enjoying the cool misty air, sharing a tiny glass or sodabi and talking about politics and mysticism. We talked about the attempted coup-d’état that took place 3 months ago, which now has the president’s brother and his assorted, foreign military wing, armed with Chinese rifles, imprisoned in Lomé. About the chain of corruption and theft that prevents bridges from being built and trickles down to even the most honest and well-intentioned citizens…about tradition and modernization and what lies in between.

Many potential investors and MBA advisors have told me I paint too rosy a picture of Togo – as a haven of democracy and liberalism in the midst of the corruption of West Africa. However, I always do my best to present an accurate description of this country, and I will continue to do so. This is Africa, and it is with hints of cynicism and heaps of idealism (both necessary to fully comprehend the complex dynamics of both culture and politics) that I believe in Togo. Two steps forward, one step back, mais CA VA ALLER.

Sweet Home Togo

2009-08-09T09:06:00.000-07:00

Kpalimé is the exactly the same. Except that the roads have been completely destroyed from flooding and rain. Even the main streets are a maze of potholes, ranging in size from a plate to a small house. It is interesting how this, my third time back, illuminates even more clearly the utter lack of progress and stagnancy of development…at FECECAV I can always see tiny steps forwards and small but significant inklings of growth, but on a larger scale, Togo stays in one place.

Le voyage was long…after a minor visa fiasco in New York (where I was barred from the airplane because I didn’t have a pre-purchased Ghanaian transit visa – which you used to be able to buy upon arrival in Accra – and had to spend an extra day in Manhattan kow-towing to the sluggish staff at the Ghanaian embassy…) I arrived in Accra on the morning of the 6th. I met a great girl on the place from a company called InfraCo, which does energy infrastructure projects in Africa – how fortuitous!

We traveled by bus to Ho, near the Togo border, where we piled into a classic African van, with a fractured windshield held together by a “Thank You Jesus” sticker, a back door propped open with piece of bamboo and a shell so rusted out that I was completed amazed (as usual) that with each pothole we didn’t all fall straight through. I am used to it now, but I still don’t understand the physics of these vehicles…how they run and stay in one piece. The mechanics here are literal magicians…

I have been in Kpalime for 3 days now, have met 2 yovo volunteers at FECECAV (one from SIDI, another development organization that send $$ to FECECAV at 6% interest and one from Kiva, a new fellow who immediately told me how much she hates Kpalime…) There are in fact many yovos here in Kpalime right now, harkening back to the days when Togo was a tourism hotspot. I am told that this is the “season of the Yovos” – aka summer vacation time. Hilarious.
I have eaten lots of fufu already (delicious! J) and talked extensively with Daniel (the CEO of FECECAV) and Aminou (my Kpalimé electrician and head of the solar team we will train during the pilot project.) I bought a motorcycle battery to hook up my solar panel demo, and it is currently chez le mecanicien charging up. Batteries here are bought without acid, and you must them take it to the mechanic to fill it up – where the mechanic removes some acid from another battery, mixes it with filthy water, tests it to see if it’s good, and, barehanded, spilling it all over his little brother’s feet and the oily ground of his workstation, adds it to the battery with a turkey baster. (I just tried in vain for 15 minutes to upload pictures of this, amongst a few others, but the internet connection is just not having it)

Everyone is impatient for the pilot project, and keep asking where is Mister Jon, when will we “installer les pannaux solaires”? I admire their trust in me and their endurance – not only because so many leave empty promises all over this continent, but also that nowhere but in Africa can I find this type of patience and resilience. I have made an impression on them and, since I am back again, this time with a panel, with documents to sign and posters to hang in their office, they are content to continue waiting for SunPower Afrique. I do not take it for granted and I will not let them down! Aminou as well, is so anxious to get started, and nervous that several solar panel installers have cropped up throughout the country (Chinese…) and that he will miss his chance. But he too trusts me and waits for his training – I continue to remember why we have decided work with him: his passion and understanding of solar in the context of his life and his country is exemplary and inspiring.

I am planning the next three weeks – pressured to get everything accomplished that I want to in such a short time, also allowing a week or so to travel north with Inno to meet his family and see more of the country. I am somewhat embarrassed to say that throughout my time in Togo, so unlike my adventurous self, I have never been North of Atakpame!

I will spend a week or so in Lome, to have my meetings with the Ministers of Decentralization, Small Business and Energy & Mining. I will also visit the Port of Lomé for a tour, and reconnect with M. Lare, my partner/consultant who currently has himself in quite a state, due to a misunderstanding between himself and Novinyo, another of my partners (a FECECAV manager). Something about “insulting his character” by not giving him a loan that falls far outside FECECAV’s average size for loan disbursal. I must go smooth this over in order to move forward…c’est l’Afrique quoi. Wish me luck.

I promised to keep my blog short this time, and while I’m sure you all long for my long-winded descriptions of the nuances of Togolese culture and the smell of burning plastic, I will spare you – this once :)

Will write again soon, of my plans and programs, and about the evolution of SunPower Afrique on the ground! As Daniel said to me, it becoming plus et plus réale(more and more real.)

Amitiés,
K

7.5 Months…

2009-07-02T13:35:00.000-07:00

...Is a long time to have been away from Togo. And on August 4th, when I fly back, through Accra, it will have been 9 months since my feet have been on the ground in Africa.

Last night I put my new blackberry down on top of my new netbook computer and had to do a double-take. Am I the same girl who wrapped herself in a pagne on the airplane and vowed never again to approach living beyond my means? What am I doing with these gadgets?

The longer I stay here in the US, the easier it is to slip back into the ways of selfishness and consumerism…I was born here, raised here, lived and live here. And am constantly struggling with why I suddenly have a love-hate relationship with everything I have ever known…

And the longer I stay here and work to grow the for-profit business, worry about who will be at the beach on Saturday, and who won’t, and how many more things I can’t get accomplished in a day, and how frustrated I am with the small business server and the congressperson who won’t vote to increase the solar share because it would cost PA ratepayers an additional 3cents on their annual utility bill…the more distant I feel from my project, from Togo, from Inno and Rogier and Akpene…from everything I was so driven by, in love with and smothered in when I returned from my first sejour au Togo, now well over a year ago.

Oui c'est complique, le balance me trahit…

The pace of life here in recent months (or all the time) would flabbergast anyone in Togo...I work all the time, at a frantic pace...tripping my way through a complex balancing act of policy advocacy, solar sales and non-profit business development. And go to Rotary meetings every Wedsneday and drive to NYC to see my sister and to LBI to see my friends and I love it...but would les Togolaises ever understand...?

I cannot wait to have an entire month to spend purely on Afrique work...my business plan is, at LONG last, almost in good shape, I have a budget in a complicated excel spreadsheet(thank you Danny and Rich Singer at RSVP) and I am starting to raise money! I hope that my trip will only spur the momentum, as I tackle some serious market analysis and outreach to develop my customer base of solar enthusiasts :) I will post a message with a more detailed description of my plans for August in the near future, and then off we go...

A bientot -
K

PS - Exciting! Thank you to Mike Armstrong, for filming and working with me on SunPower Afrique's first video...coming soon...

BECOME A FAN OF SUNPOWER AFRIQUE ON FACEBOOK: http://www.facebook.com/home.php#/pages/SunPower-Afrique/52677941699?ref=ts

The Wonderful World of Rotary

2009-05-12T13:24:00.000-07:00

For the past month and a half, I have spent a good deal of time exploring Rotary International and have been attending the weekly meetings of the Collegeville Rotary Club. I have also attended 2 meetings at the Bryn Mawr Rotary Club, including last night where I was the featured speaker. After evaluating the committment (time-wise and financially), I decided that joining the club would be a great opportunity and filled out an application. Now I wait for the Collegeville Club to vote me in (I hope!)

Rotary is an excellent mechanism for me to get the word out about SunPower Afrique to a large network of informed and interested individuals. While I am almost always the youngest (and usually one of 2 women in the room..) I greatly enjoy the comradery and being surrounded by people who are socially and philanthropically minded.

My project has generated much interest amongst the Rotarians I have met, and, after doing a bit of research and networking, have learned that the fundraising opportunties available for my project through Rotary are truly endless...importantly, Monsieur LARE, my lead solar technician and trainer in Togo, is also a Rotarian! He actually founded the Rotary Club in Dapaong (in Northern Togo) and has contacts at Rotary Clubs throughout Togo and here in the US. I am incredibly excited to begin linking up Rotarians around the world...Kpalime and Togo, sister cities!

In general, my presentations have been successful in translating my passion for SunPower Afrique to my audiences. I hope that my fellow Rotarians will be sufficiently inspired as to help me leverage this project with Rotary as much as possible.

Today I received this write-up from the Bryn Mawr Rotary "Coghorn" newsletter, about my presentation at their club last night:

PROGRAM
Chm. Bud Ahrens introduced Kira Costanza and her program “Sunpower Afrique” that she hopes to introduce in Togo, West Africa during the next year. Kira presented a power point program that included a bill of materials, for this $100,000.00 Solar Energy system for empowering the Microfinance Institutions in Togo. Kira had spent some time in Toga working with KIVA and FECECAV which dispenses very small (micro) loans to the locals for business and finance in their own communities. The pictures of course were worth a thousand words but the show gave us a great insight into how the people live, how they work and how the solar power systems are set up. They suffer from a severe energy crisis and have little or no utility type power available. The solar systems will permit some lighting, use of computers and telephone connections at reduced rates. The equipment is to be purchased here in the US and shipped as a package to Togo. Their electricians will assemble the Solar Power units under Kira’s guidance. This training will permit later installations about the town. There were a lot of questions so the program definitely caught our collective attention. Kira joined Collegeville Rotary (Dist. 7430) and will be traveling around her District and ours (Dist. 7450) in her effort to fund this Solar Power Afrique Energy system. Thanks to Kira for a very interesting and informative program.

Thanks to the Bryn Mawr Rotary Club for having me as a presenter last night - I look forward to continuing to work with District 7450 to fundraise for Afrique in the coming months!

April Update: Busy Times!

2009-04-14T16:08:00.000-07:00

It’s been a while since my loquacious expressions (some may call it pontification, I prefer to think of it as enthusiasm) have graced the pages of this blog…not that I haven’t been talking myself blue in the face about SunPower Afrique, Togo and solar to anyone who will listen over the past few months.

I’d like to take a few moments to send out a quick update and document SunPower Afrique’s, and my, recent progress. As usual, there is never enough room in cyberspace...

Most of my time these days is spent working in the exhilarating, frustrating and fast-moving PA solar industry. SunPower Builders has grown exponentially over the past year and we expect to see that trend continue. We have hired new installers and office staff, and are well poised for the solar boom…if it ever arrives in full force…The solar industry in PA struggles, and has historically struggled, by being a policy-driven one. If legislature exists that subsidizes solar, bringing down the cost for the average consumer, the solar industry flourishes (à la Jimmy Carter) – when these subsidies, such as tax credits and rebates, are removed (à la Ronald Reagan), the industry screeches to a halt. We are thankfully returning to the former’s policies, thanks in great part to the new administration (as well as rising energy costs and decreasing costs of solar modules.)

I and SunPower Builders have been featured twice in the past week in the Philadelphia Inquirer, highlighting our efforts to push legislation through the bureaucracy of Harrisburg so that we can start installing systems and creating green jobs! An enthusiastic reporter has given great recent attention to our industry and the issues that it faces, which has been quite exciting. My work as Secretary of MSEIA (Mid-Atlantic Solar Energy Industries Association) has also kept me right at the center of policy development and advocacy for solar in PA, which I surprisingly enjoy, considering the fact that I left the UN thinking I would never touch anything with the word “policy” in it again with a 10 foot pole. If you are interested, you can find more information about this work on SunPower Builders’ blog I post information on PA solar policy and SunPower’s place in it. The link is: http://www.sunpowerbuilders.blogspot.com/

In my “free time” I continue to live and breathe SunPower Afrique…I take every opportunity to speak about the organization and its goals, and get its name out there to whomever will listen. I recently gave a talk at the Free Library in Philadelphia which was quite well attended and gave me the opportunity to stand in front of a room full of people, most of whom were NOT familiar with my project, and explain my passion for it as well as make it accessible. I also gave a presentation a few Saturday's ago at an event called "Girls Exploring Tomorrow's Technology", where I talked about my project to groups of high school girls, parents and teachers - I now have a 16-year-old who wants to intern with me this summer! I have also joined the Rotary Club of Collegeville (yes, really and no, I am not a 74 year old man) where I hope to garner support for my project through Rotary International and other fundraising mechanisms. Any chance I get, I put a small article in a local newsletter or other PR/outreach network, hoping that the right person will pick it up…

…and give me $100 thousand dollars :)

No really, the fundraising is ongoing! We ARE raising money, little by little, un peu et un peu as my Togolese counterparts would say, and that’s the way it should be. I am re-learning the value of patience, which I seem to have forgotten quite quickly now that both feet are firmly back on US soil.

Our tanking economy and new tax policies (under which charitable donations by the extremely wealthy actually get less of a deduction than they used to…I love you Obama but you are killing me…) are making fundraising quite challenging but I remain optimistic! In light of the circumstances, I understand that I will have to search outside the easiest fundraising channels and focus on grant-writing and other, more burdensome initiatives such as investment solicitations and the like. All of which I see truly as a blessing in disguise, as it is forcing me to write and re-write business, strategic and operational plans, re-think the sustainability of my financial model and otherwise perpetually improve upon why I believe people should donate money to SunPower Afrique. All of which is quite useful.

However, I miss Togo…it has been far too long since my nose has been filled with scent of burning plastic, my mouth and tummy full of fufu and grain alcohol, and I am even starting to long for the squads of yovo-shrieking tots.

While I do not anticipate raising the full budget for the pilot project by this summer, I will to return to Togo in July or August, to see Inno, cultivate my network on the ground and maintain my motivation and optimism. If one spends too long away, one loses sight of what is real and what we are truly working towards.

Thanks to all who have supported me thus far, please keep it coming! Please also be in touch if you have any ideas for me in regard to fundraising, business development or otherwise. You know I’ll be happy to chat with you :)

Until then –
K

PS - A quick shout out to my dear friend and mentor Rhoda, who always always read to the bottom on this blog. I will miss you and your brilliant, insightful commentary.

The New SunPower Afrique.org!

2009-03-20T06:31:00.000-07:00

I am so pleased and proud to announce the launch of the brand new, improved and quite magnificent (if I do say so myself...) www.sunpowerafrique.org !

The site features all new text and content, is much more user friendly and accesible and, importantly, hosts a unique and effective contribution page.

The "Gallery" section includes photo galleries from my time spent in Togo, highlighting our Togolese partners and friends, as well as photos of the microfinance clients who will benefit from SunPower Afrique's programs. The site also includes a link to this blog, which I will continue to update frequently.

A heartfelt thank you to the hugely talented and motivated Peg and Mather at Web-Wis-Dom, who went above and beyond our initial scope of work to create this fantastic website.

In other news, I am applying for a Volunteer Service Grant through Rotary International, to return to Togo this summer to continue SunPower Afrique's project planning.

Merci et a bientot!

The 501(c)(3) Saga Draws to a Close...

2009-02-11T09:55:00.000-08:00

Today SunPower Afrique filed its 501(c)(3) Tax-Exempt Status Application with the IRS! With 501(c)(3) status, all donations made to SunPower Afrique will be tax-exempt.

This is a very exciting day, and my lawyers have informed me that we should hear from the IRS within a few months. We have worked long and hard on this application and are confident that we will get a favorable determination.

HOWEVER, all donations made to the organization at this time are tax-deductible since we submitted the application within 27 months of the date of incorporation (as long as we submit it within 27 months and the organization is eventually granted 501(c)(3) status, regardless of how long it takes for that to come through, deductibility is retroactive to the date of incorporation.)

In other developments, I have created a Facebook page for SunPower Afrique and, as soon as we are granted our 501(c)(3) status, we can start raising money on the Facebook! This is a great opportunity for both fundraising and networking.

You can find it here:
http://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=1397320930&ref=name#/pages/SunPower-Afrique/52677941699?ref=ts

You should all go and become fans!

I am also working with web designers on revamping the SunPower Afrique website and should have the new and improved site up within a month or so.

Stay tuned...

For once I'll let the pictures tell a thousand words...

2008-12-17T16:01:00.000-08:00

12 Dec - Myeadogo

2008-12-11T09:29:00.001-08:00

I leave for Lomé tomorrow morning. I have 2 final meetings scheduled in the afternoon and Inno will meet me in the evening at his frère's house. My flight is Saturday (of course at 4AM, as the rest of the world does not consider Togo when planning international airline plans and there is always one flight per day at some ung-dly hour)

It's as if I closed my eyes, opened them to a riot of color, smiles, pagnes and palms, and then, upon blinking a second time, a month has gone by...

I now live simultaneously in two distinct and comprehensive worlds, separated not only by an ocean but by many immeasurable miles of cultural complexity. One day I will understand the reconciliation of the two, but for now, I will just revel in the beauty of both places and the people that live in each one, and try to imagine how lucky I am to have the chance to inhabit both.

It is not easy.

Stay tuned for the next season of the Yovo Show, when SunPower Afrique moves from inspiration, research and planning, to realisation and execution.

6 Dec – December Rain

2008-12-10T00:46:00.000-08:00

6 Dec – December Rain

The other night, Inno turns to me and says, I have been thinking about something since early this afternoon and I want to talk to you about it. I immediately started racking my brain for my most recent social blunder, or waiting to hear about his second wife and child waiting for him in the North…he must have seen the confusion in my face because he said, no no don’t worry, ce n’est pas mal.

“Have you ever heard of African mysticism?”

I think before responding, a bit surprised that he is bringing this up…yes, I say, I have heard of it, but I have never seen it with my own eyes. Adding a tone of skepticism to my voice I say, do you believe in that stuff? He nods his head from side to side, not saying yes, but not saying no.

“Kira,” he says, “This is Africa. Mysticism is not something to believe in or not believe in. You may not be able to understand this, but I am going to try to tell you anyway…that here, in Africa, it is real.”

Several people have spoken to me about mystics, sorcerers and superstitions during my time spent in Togo. So and so’s brother in law was narcissistic ever since he got that new job, that’s why he died in his sleep one night…so and so’s mother? Oh she was so vain and self-absorbed after winning the lottery, that’s why she was in that accident and died. In all instances, the mysterious deaths are tied to an individual’s success, achievement or improved status in life, and their behavior as a result of the experience.

I have always taken these stories with a grain of salt, knowing that, from my suburban American education and approach towards problem solving, that there is a scientific or rational explanation for nearly everything. However, it is here that I have learned the significance of nearly everything. As our conversation goes on, I learn that it is this element of mysticism, the relationship of cause and effect between one’s behavior, others’ intentions, and good and evil, that Innocent is most interested in speaking to me about.

Benin, less than 100km away, is the voodoo center of West Africa, if not all of Africa. Although I have never been there, an almost fearful reverence for the power of Beninoise voodoo has permeated my perception of the country. Every Beninoise I have met has made some mention of fortune, chance and spirituality, and, while it less prevalent here in Togo, it is a sharp reality for many.

Innocent says, Kira, you know me, I would not place my fortune in the hands of a sage, but have you ever noticed that the reason that Africa doesn’t evolve like the rest of the world is because people are always jealous of each other? No one can be happy for one another when they are better off than their neighbor. Instead, evil brews, and no one advances. (Sidenote: I asked him then, where does economic development and corrupt governance fit it? What about those explanations for poverty and lack of progress? Je ne te refuse pas, he said, those are also justifications for Africa’s problems, but trust me, they are only part of the game.)

Mensah and Akpene have both mentioned this underlying element of jealousy in African society to me as well, from the very beginning – cautioning me to be wary of any trinkets anyone might give me, open drinks or food whose source is unknown. Mensah says they could sabotage my project with some kind of herbal potion in my beverage – I will no longer be able to think clearly about my ideas and SunPower Afrique will fall apart. Akpene says that they could convince me to unknowingly carry around an evil talisman, and when I arrive back in the US, I will forget all about Innocent and how I feel about him. “You can be sitting together, laughing and chatting,” Mensah says, “With your closest friends…but no one is happy. Everyone is hiding something. Everyone is jealous, resentful and plotting. You must always be careful.”

Now –

a) I find this very hard to believe about my dear friends here in Kpalimé, and I think that there is both a level of exaggeration and also a difference between coveting thy Togolese neighbor and coveting thy yovo.

b) One would think that this is quite a precarious environment for someone like me, with a relentless case of verbal diarrhea and lack of self-consciousness. But I have learned quickly and, while maintaining my personality of sincerity and trustfulness, I have indeed changed my level of openness with others about my private life. In many ways I am still as naïve as I used to be, some things about me will never change and I actually grateful for that, but I know now how to be just as observant and direct in my interactions, yet protective. I am not in Kansas anymore.

I ask Innocent how he knows that mysticism is real. He says, “Do you know why I am still here in Togo?” I shake me head and he continues, “If my father was still alive, I would have gone to university in Europe. I would never have met you.”

“My father was a member of the National Assembly. He was moving up in the world. And someone didn’t like it. My father was killed by an evil spirit.” I try not to roll my eyes and ask him how his father died. He tells me that he had an accident – he was walking in the sand by the side of the road, fell down and died. With a raised eyebrow, I ask him how he knows that this was a spell of malice that killed him…Inno insists that there were no rocks, no branches, no weapons in sight – he fell, seemingly out of nowhere, in the middle of a pile of sand, and died. I ask Innocent if he saw it happen and he says no, no one did. I tell him then, Inno, your father must have had a seizure, an aneurism, must have fallen in a position that caused his spine to contort just so, that it killed him. “No,” he refuses, “You will say that and you will think that, but it is not true. You don’t understand.” I will tell you another story, he says.

A frère, in Lomé, married a European woman. He lived with her in Europe and once, came back to Togo with a new car. He drove all around the city, showing off his fancy automobile, swanky clothing and shiny watches, disrespecting his friends and neighbors. That night, he was driving home and went to cross the railroad tracks when his car suddenly stalled. The frère couldn’t re-start the car and when he tried to get out, the doors were all jammed in the locked position. He also couldn’t break open the windows. The train hit his car and the frère died. Final Destination anyone?

I tried for about 10 minutes to explain to him that this was impossible. Perhaps there was an electrical malfunction with the doors’ locks, perhaps he committed suicide. There are several gaps in this story – a) Inno did not see it happen. He claims that he saw the smashed car the next day. b) By the time Innocent would have been old enough to understand or witness such an event, the train system in Togo was gaté.

I don’t buy it. Inno and I argued for a few minutes about the implausibility of his story and in the end, agreed to disagree.

But…

I wonder if the chill I sometimes feel, looking deep into the tall reeds and baobabs of the plains between Aventonou and Kpalimé, is simply some romanticized perception of shadows in the darkness of the African night or if truly, there is a third level of existence – one of ancient spirits and whispered history, bearing both powerful malevolence and incomprehensible compassion – that radiates out of Africa.

Is this third level of existence somehow related to Africans’ intense sensibility of the patterns of the natural world? There is a heightened level of consciousness of weather, seasons and temperature. As if there is a spirit or overlying energy governing us all and the world around us – untouchable and uncontrollable by humans, yet as reliable as the sun rising every day. These are the things one can depend on, because the essence of this force will always exist and will always ensure our existence. There is no room for scientific, biological, yovo explanations for cold fronts, global warming or fluctuating jet streams…

Everyone I know in Togo in a tizzy right now because it is December and it has rained 3 days in a row – Athanase said to me yesterday, staring out at the sky, perplexed, “Il ne pleut pas en decembre. En Decembre c’est l’Harmattan.” It is as simple as that – in December it does not rain. It is the Harmattan Winds. Period.

So I believe, on one hand, that there is a heightened sense of spirituality and general experience here in Africa. I do. I love it here because there is something about this place that does not exist in the states – whether it is the simplicity and openness of the people here, the optimism and resilience that permeates the meaning of life, the complexity of a third level of spiritual existence, or a combination of all of the above, I am still not sure. But it is here, and you can’t find it elsewhere. And you can’t find it here after one week, not even after 3 months…I didn’t truly sense it until this trip, and I won’t claim to fully understand it. No one really does – part of its magnetism and strength is its impalpability…

However, I am still a yovo, I am still Kira Costanza, and although I have been strangely convinced to keep my life as private as possible to prevent someone from slotting any evil intentions towards Innocent (why I somehow believe that is possible I could not tell you,) I still have not heard a story, from anyone, that I truly believe to be the result of mysticism.

Evil spells do not exist, and accidents do happen, even in Africa.

SunPower Afrique Update - Synopsis

2008-12-04T03:29:00.000-08:00

For all of you that are indeed interested in the evolution of SunPower Afrique but don't have the time to read my rambling blogs (I understand entirely), I hope that this will be of interest to you...

SunPower Afrique is moving forward fantastically in Togo. I have been doing lots of research on materials and our workforce, and have found our team of technicians that will be trained during the pilot installation. They are a great bunch - young, motivated and forward-thinking. I have met community organizers, entrepreneurs and individuals who are interested in being involved and am developing a widespread network on the ground. All the while, I am learning how to keep my cards close to my chest and being very careful not to get taken advantage of - this is a very complex and difficult task and I learn much every day.

I have met with the head of the National Microfinance Committee and the country's renewable energy experts, who have all expressed high levels of support for the project and shared important advice, political and technical, with me. Things are all falling into place...

I have been working out the details of the 'Solar Loan,' which will be offered by FECECAV (and eventually other MFIs) after their solar installation is complete. For me, this is one of the most exciting parts of the project because it truly means the expansion of the use and knowledge of solar in Togo.

I have also been preparing my application to do business in Togo, with the help of my FECECAV colleagues, which we will submit next week tothe Minister of the Interior.

Everyone anxiously awaits the pilot installation and, for those who haven't already, the arrival of Mister Jon, who has become somewhat of a hero in Kpalime and beyond, in the spring of 2009.

I see more and more every day the impact this project is going to have on this country and I continue to fall more and more in love with Togo...

I look forward to sharing more when I return mid-December. Please be in touch and thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for your interest and support.

All my best,
Kira

It's Already December??

2008-12-02T02:29:00.001-08:00

I am sitting in a sweaty, second floor cyber café in Lomé, surrounded by unemployed Togolese "entrepreneurs," lazily searching internet databases and sending out Nigerian internet scams...they work in pairs, fumbling through English translations, sending messages with subjects such as "Hello...Family (Paste Name Here)" and "Urgent Business Proposal My Dear Friend." I want to tell them that no one reads these things and they should go and at least try to get a job...have I been in Togo too long?

This morning, amidst the usual flurry of 'What-will-you-bring-mes,' I took a taxi from Kpalimé in order to meet with Monsieur Jacques from the National Microfinance Committee. He was pleased with the evolution of the project, as the whole idea of the Solar Loan is new since I presented the dossier to him last Spring. Jacques believes that the project now has a larger vision, that is more sustainable, but, interestingly, he too warned me to proceed slowly and carefully. Jacque's fear is one that I did not consider - that recipient MFIs will start offering solar loans à n'importe qui à n'importe quel termes (to just anyone on any terms) and will start raising the interest rates once they see the interest and potential profitability . I put on my best non-Yovo face and said, but Jacques, if they sign a contract with us that specifies the terms and rates, won't they be obliged to comply? He saw right through my naivete and said with a smile, Kira, I know that you have a bit of Togo in your blood, and you know better than to think that just because someone has signed a contract they will execute it. He agreed with Lare, Daniel and everyone else that SunPower Afriaue must start small and keep everything under a sharp managerial eye.

I have been somewhat frustrated the past few days in Togo...perhaps it is the end of a honeymoon, perhaps it will pass, perhaps I am just moody, but I have been less tolerant and abrupt in my observations since Saturday...it started at church. Having sat through that service and money-mongering so many times, I assumed I could quietly swallow it all again. Not so. This week it was particularly greedy...it was the annual celebration of youth, which meant performances and skits by youth groups, showcasing appropriate, church-condoned behavior. I appreciate peoples' solace and trust in religion here, but the way it seems to blindfold people and dictates everything from how to choose a mate to look at yourself in the mirror, is so short-sighted and limiting. Easy for me to say, having been raised in a family and a country that allowed me to see, look and feel for myself, taught me, in fact, to be curious and ever-questioning. I have developed an acute awareness of when to keep my mouth shut here and realize that there are certain things people simply won't understand - most namely, that I do not believe that Jesus will take care of n'importe quoi for me. But this weekend it was as if something snapped in my brain and the stubborn, indepenant gremlin that always sits on my shoulder won out.

I was so disgusted with the pastor's threats to the congregation, that yes, even if you don't have the means, g-d wants you to give 2000CFA to the church, that I told Maman I was annoyed by it (which I have told her and Daniel before, but more in a teasing way and they just laugh at the silly Yovo) and wanted to leave. She didn't think I was serious, but when I got up and left, she and Daniel followed. They weren't offended because a) they can't understand why I would think that and b) even though everyone knows that most of that money will go into the pastor's pocket, they can't imagine someone actually standing up to it.

Later in the day, still salty from the experience, I went with Innocent to a party for Rogier's new baby. Half an hour into the celebration, a nasty-looking man with a fat belly showed up and jerked his hand for Akpene to get out of her seat. She did and he sat down, scowling. He nudged Inno and snapped something to him, which prompted him to hiss at Alice and motion for her to come over. She came over and the man pointed at the drinks table, not 4 feet away. She quickly poured him a glass of whiskey which he rejected and she came back, mixing some bitters with it. He snatched the glass from her, saying nothing.

Innocent and I have talked about this kind of behavior many times and, while I am not going to divulge the complexity and evolution of our relationship here, I will say that both of us are products of our cultures and upbringings, and Inno's open mind is rare and truly astonishing. We have both changed since we met each other, discovering each others' cultures, personalities, intricacies and difficulties. Both of us have learned the real meaning and significance of compromise, and neither of us doubt that there is much more ahead.

Inno is brave, intelligent and knows what he wants, and he has accepted and applied ideas of equality, shared responsibility and affection with curiosity and grace.

25 Novembre - Lomé Lomé

2008-11-28T08:41:00.000-08:00

I am ready to leave at 7am, as promised, and Maman FECECAV is waiting for me. She is headed to Lomé to buy pagnes at the Grand Marché to resell in her boutique and I have a meeting with Monsieur Lare Damessanou, an expert in renewable energy. Before heading out, all I know is that he is the head of an NGO in the North and he has invited me to spend the day with him to hear what he knows and see an installation he has done in a Lomé quartier.

Maman FECECAV and I wait for an hour and a half at the station in Kpalimé, as obviously the car will not depart with less than 14 people inside….finally, after much harassment by the gang of unemployed, twenty-something men that constantly loiter around the ticket window, we have 13 jammed into the 8-seater van and we roll (literally) out of the station. With some pushing and a frustrated jolt, the van starts and off we go. Two hours later we have made the now-familiar trek from Kpalimé to the outer suburbs of Lomé.

I call Lare and he tells me to come to KASEF and look for the Ministry of Teaching. When I repeat the word KASEF on the phone and look at Maman FECECAV quizzically, everyone hushes and I feel even more white than usual. When I hang up and ask what KASEF is, every single person in the van looks at me like I am an alien. Apparently, KASEF is the central government zone that houses all of the ministries.

I immediately feel my heart sink. I thought Mr. Lare was an outsider, the director of an NGO, a maker of change and a signal of the future, not a well-fed minister’s pet project sitting in an air conditioned office. I sigh and decide to go anyway of course, but am a bit disappointed and also confused since I was told that no one in the ministries would be interested in meeting with me alone.

Maman FECECAV helps me to skirt the gauntlet of moto drivers asking me if I need a ride or, alternatively, if I’d like to be their wife, and sets me off towards KASEF. I promise to call her when I arrive. We drive into the cluster of run-down buildings with their crumbling sidewalks and broken-down entryways, air conditioners clanking and dripping from sporadic windows.

Lomé is so interesting in this way, and KASEF is a microcosm of it – it absolutely reeks of what it used to be...”The Pearl of West Africa” all the travel books called it. When the British and the Germans left it, it was a profitable export market and European vacation destination, complete with exotic nightclubs and restaurants and luxurious hotels (no real Africans involved in any of this of course, unless they were servants) – that mysterious allure of colonial Africa that I imagine from time to time, in this totally bizarre and conflicted emotion of both craving and immeasurable disgust. These buildings still exist, the 3 tallest buildings in Lomé are hotels, and the beaches still sparkle, but you can almost hear the white caretakers and business owners hysterically stuffing their bags full of everything they can fit and leaving empty bureaus without so much as a sideways glance at what they were leaving behind, or whom. The new Togolese government, businesses and public who took over these establishments haven’t had the cash to repaint or repair since…

The building I enter, the Ministry of Education is, like most, not centrally air conditioned, only the offices of ministers and other governmental peons, whose offices humm off of open hallways, which are more like crumbling balconies and an occasional broken window. A team of workers are carrying bucketloads of cement up and down the stairs on their heads, sweat dripping down their foreheads in oily beads. They don’t seem to notice la chaleur, as I fan myself with a piece of paper. I think about how stupid I am that I even care about trying not to sweat through my now thoroughly wrinkled shirt…

After I realize that I am in the wrong place, someone leads me through the sand to the Ministry of Education for Primary and Secondary Education. Mr. Lare is standing outside waiting for me, a small, thin man wearing slacks, a collared shirt and, yes, a tie. He also wears glasses, with bifocals, halfway down his nose. He doesn’t push them up, and greets me with a huge smile and solid handshake.

He leads me up some stairs, where I trip on the way up (NEVER FAILS) and about 4 men “come to my rescue.” These well-ironed attachés are much sleazier than any hissing moto driver in Kpalimé, and their lingering handshakes and winks really make my skin crawl. I pretend not to be bothered, plaster on a smile and follow Laré into a large, air-conditioned conference room that is empty except for a large table and a laptop sitting at the far end.

We sit and begin to talk. As we have already exchanged several emails, he knows the basis of why I am here, but I remain cautious. I decide to feel him out – I ask what he is doing here at the ministry, that I thought he was affiliated with an NGO and that I am surprised to find him here. He laughs and tells me not to worry, he has never had and never will have any intentions of working with the government. He explains.

Lare is an electrical engineer, and earned his Masters in Solar Energy in Ghana in 1992 and came back to Togo to start ACDI-Solar, an NGO based in Dapaong (in the far North of Togo.) He has worked in the field ever since. As a result of this experience he has become one of the 3 experts on renewable energy in the country and, due to this knowledge and position, he is now a member of the Togolese Commission for Energy and other governmental working groups on the energy crisis but, importantly, he considers himself a private consultant in all of these capacities. He goes on to tell me that, of the 3 experts on renewable energy in Togo, he is the only one from the private sector. He reiterates this point several times throughout the day, which makes me much more comfortable, and intrigued.

Lare is here at the ministry because he had been summoned the week before by the government to do a presentation on renewable energy for a UNESCO conference. He will be more than happy to share the presentation with me, he says, please give me your USB key.

His manner is very polite but informal, and soon he asks if we can address each other with the friendly “tu” instead of the official “vous.” He says that after 10 minutes you can judge a person’s character. I feel validated that he seems to like me. Mr. Lare is very forthcoming and open, and I soon begin to realize the depth of his expertise, research and life’s work.

Lare and I begin to talk quickly, almost in circles, and have to continue bringing ourselves back to the organization of our conversation. He appreciates this kind of systematization (such an engineer) and tries to drive the conversation around several points, all information he wishes to impart to me. First, he tells me that the biggest problem with the expansion of solar energy here is twofold. One, there is no experience, no techs, no materials. This is a logistical issue that he has found ways around – training his own team, procuring and shipping materials for those who have the means from a partner in Houston, TX.

Importantly, Lare and I agree that under no circumstances do we use Chinese products in solar installations. If there is one thing that needs to be sustainable, he says, it is a solar energy system, and China has proven to us in Africa that their products will be gaté within a few months. I am thrilled that he shares this view, as it has larger implications, in my mind, of the way that the solar industry will develop here in Togo and else where in Africa. China has monopolized the electronics and other cheap import markets, but I’ll be damned if they can do it with solar modules…

Lare also has ideas about training more workers to promote and respond to demand for solar energy usage. I let him know that this is a big part of what we want to do as well and we’d love to collaborate. He said that there might be an opportunity to work together on a training conference he is trying to organize in January/2009 – he even said that, since it will be sponsored by the state, we might be able to get airfare and hotel rooms paid for…this is very interesting, exactly the direction we need to be moving in. I am very happy to see it happening – albeit from one man – and I think that Jon and Ron will be enthusiastic about participating.

Lare explains that the other part of the problem with the expansion of solar is a lack of knowledge, on both the populations part (similiar to what Aminou told me in Kpalimé) and on the part of the government. That is why I am here, he says, to show the government that it is in their interest. But it is an uphill battle, he says, even when I show them the figures.

In many West African countries, such as Mali, Burkina and Senegal, there are solar industries that are beginning to develop. They have already seen the light, so to speak. This is because there are widespread laws in these countries protecting solar – no tax credits or rebate programs of course, but incentives nonetheless. In Togo, this is a very recent phenomenon (our timing couldn’t be better in fact…) The majority of the population does not know that there are laws protecting solar in Togo. My partners at FECEAV didn’t know and I didn’t know either. He says that he is not surprised that I am not aware of this, as the government has done a superb job of keeping it hidden. In 1998, a decree was passed that removed all taxes and other fees on the import of solar panels into the country. This decree was not rendered active and applied until March of 2008, after Lare himself devoted several years to lobbying ministers, making presentations and schmoozing attachés.

He will be happy to make me a photocopy of the decree, he says, because if I go into the archives and records I will not find it. It is active, but it has been removed. Import taxes are a large source of revenue for the Togolese government. He says that if I have this decree, I will have no problem getting my materials through the port hors taxes.

Lare goes on to explain about the Port of Lomé. To my amazement, he tells me that is the most secure port in all of West Africa. If I were to try this in Accra or Lagos, he laughs, you would end up with half of what you started with. He recounts a story of when he went to the port in Lagos to retrieve a shipment and, without anyone stopping him, entered the port, found the container, took what what his and left. No one said a word. The Port of Lomé, he says, is serieux. If you have the decree and your Authorization to Operate in Togo (I am working on that, and it is a good thing I am here in the country to do it, otherwise I would have a hell of a time, it is hard enough while I am here!) you are good to go. You will have no trouble, they will guard your materials in haute securité and the same person who unloads your materials will be responsible for driving the rented truck from Lomé to the materials’ final destination. Excellent.

Throughout our conversation, I mention the names of those I have met or contacted so far in Togo that have worked with solar – Aminou and his professor, Prof. Kossi Napo, Youth Volunteers for the Environment – and Lare knows them all. Not only does he know them all, he has worked with them all and is “frères” with all of them. Apparently the energy community in Togo is very small and it is so fascinating to me that however corrupt and inaccessible the government, etc. seems, I am already in the door and right in the thick of it – due to some internet research, some emails and due diligence.

By the end of the conversation, he still does not push up his glasses. He is full of such idiosyncrasies, and I get used to it.

We discuss constraints of working in Togo, and he warns me not get played. He says Kira, I am Togolese, so I can tell you honestly that people will try to take advantage of you. Be careful. He also says that he can tell that, although I am young, I seem to understand his country and will not be naïve. Don’t forget it, he says. He also advises me to start small, be experimental and allez un peu et un peu (like everything else in Togo.) For durability and success, as well as to protect myself.

Lastly, we talk about collaboration. He is very open, and asks what ideas I have. I say that I’d love to have him as a consultant, as his knowledge of policies, application, and other ins and outs of solar IN TOGO will be invaluable to us. I have actually included this in the budget now (we did not discuss compensation at the time though, as I did not think it prudent) because I think it will be essential and important. It will also be creating sustainability and capacity among Togolese, for Togolese, by Togolese. Lare agreed to help with training, as he has done tons of research and presentations in this regard (I have a copy of the recent one he gave at the UNESCO conference,) any questions about materials or system design and also offered some of his team for labor, if we have work for them to do.

Before we know it it is past noon. We look at the clock and at each other, laughing at the fact that we just talked nonstop for almost 3 hours, and decide to go and get something to eat.

We take motos to a place that he knows. The cafeteria we go to is obviously frequented by the privileged type, which is I’m sure why he brought me there. Lare says that he likes it because it is a “natural” environment, which means that the entire place is shaded by a huge mango tree. He appreciates nature, he says, not just renewable energy but all things about the environment. This is true, as later in the day he lets me know about some of his previous work experience with environmental protection NGOS, forestation initiatives, water sanitation, etc.

The environment inside the cafeteria is hushed, a stark contrast to the noise of the street outside. The ground is covered with thick sand, which sticks in between my sweaty toes as I amble towards a table draped in the typical, self-adhesive, white and yellow ‘Flag Bière’ tablecloth. The place is filled with men in suits, eating fufu with knives and forks. Quel comedie.

Everyone stares at me and flashes their best smile, wink and Western mannerisms. I try not to be grossed out and remember where I come from in Kpalimé. At the table next to us, a partner of FECECAV’s, a man who works for the bank BRS Togo, is sitting. This man, Takougnadi, repeatedly asked me to marry him when I was last here in Togo, although he has a wife already and is one of the sleaziest I have met here. He is a classic case – a man of ostentatious presentation, overcompensating for a culture he no longer understands because he has rejected it so shamefully. Every time I have seen him he has been in a suit and tie, his large belly protruding, flashing imposter designer watches and leering at me with ravenous eyes. Seeing him cutting his fufu with a knife and bringing it delicately to his open mouth with a fork was almost enough to make me turn around and leave the place.

I try to ignore him, but he buys Lare and I a round of drinks. Lare appears somewhat embarrassed, as it was he who brought me to lunch (in this culture, that makes sense.) I feel badly and tell Lare that while I appreciated the gesture (although I didn’t at all) I would have preferred him to buy it for me. He seems satisfied and we continue chatting while we order our fufu. He starts telling me about the difference between the North, where he is from, and the South. He says that development has all but stalled here in South, while in the North, it is just beginning. The number of NGOs are in the thousands in any given village, while here in the South, the ancient NGOs aren’t as numerous and don’t do anything anymore – they used to, but now they’ve plateau-ed. Interesting, and I see it. I have decided that my next mission in Togo is to visit and get to know the North of the country, it is something that I have been missing.

When our food comes, I ask to wash my hands. Lare is pleased that I prefer to eat with my hands, and the BRS man is, I think, caught in between being put off and charmed. I hope it is the former, and I wouldn’t be surprised. I can’t imagine eating fufu with a fork, that is utterly ridiculous…

Finally, Takougnadi leaves and Lare and I finish our meal and discussion in peace. When we go to pay, we discover that Takougnadi has paid for our entire meal. I am furious, but Lare shrugs it off and announces that we are going to go into the field, to look at an installation he has completed in Lomé. It is almost 25km away, he says, so we will take a taxi. Lomé is incredibly spread out, so it doesn’t surprise me. The drive is fascinating. I see a part of Lomé I have never before experienced – La Zone Industrielle.

We drive past the Port of Lomé, quite impressive looking, and I admire it in the wake of what Laré has told me about it. The air gets thicker and we are soon in the midst of huge camions, none older than 1989 I can guarantee you. They are ancient and powerful trucks, their rusted hoods strapped on with bungee cords, filthy laborers perched on top of bags of cement and piping, all lurching along, spewing out dense clouds of black exhaust. They are loud and unruly and, although they wouldn’t pass emissions in any state I can imagine, they get the job done. I wait for one to spontaneously collapse into a pile of black steel and oily gears, instantly killing everything in its wake.

We pass the FanMilk factory – Togo’s most famous and profitable export. It is here, inside the cracking white and blue walls that West Africa’s favorite frozen cocktails are manufactured. We pass CimenTogo, a sprawling and devastating junkyard of dust and gray film, which I imagine coating the inside my lungs. While the factory grounds are huge and impressive, the exterior transport belts and storage facilities are rusted and prehistoric and the grounds are all but deserted…Lare tells me that, despite this semblance of an industrial sector, the state cannot meet the demands of students graduating every year from university. Unemployment is more than 33% (this does not include the majority of the population that subsists on petit commerce, rendering the unemployment rate more in the area of 70-80%.)

The air is so heavy with dust, exhaust and pollution my lungs start to burn. We pass the refinery, where Shell has all but monopolized petrol sales in Togo. We pass the factory where beauty products, such as lotions and hair serums, are manufactured. I assure Lare that there will always be a market for these items.

Bizarrely enough, there are also large fields in the middle of the industrial zone, hooked up to sprinkler systems and tended to by women doubled over in the pounding sun. It looks like a plantation…

As we come out of the cloud of smog, we pass a hotel that has installed a windmill! Lare points it out, or I would have missed it for sure.

Soon, the clanking and bustling ceases to a dull roar and we enter a sandy, quiet neighborhood called Kpogan – Agodeka. It is so quiet after being in the Industrial Zone and I don’t see many people. The houses are enormous and protected by tall walls and in some cases barbed wire. Lare tells me that we are approaching the house where he installed a 4kW PV System, for a Togolese man who lives in France with his family. He lives at this house for a few months out of the year. Lare points out other homes and tells me where their occupants live full-time – Germany, Ghana, the United States. No wonder I don’t see any people…

We approach a beautiful, newly constructed home surrounded by tall, tan walls topped with fuchsia bougainvillea. We greet the woman selling cookies on the street and the team of carpenters making doors and enter the home’s gate, greeted by a friendly caretaker. This home is stunning – it is all light tan, white and brown, with a small, well manicured lawn and garden and a sparkling swimming pool. It is not too large in fact, relatively, and I love it. For the first time, I see a place I could see myself living in Lomé. I want to build a house like this – but then I think, do I want to become a stereotype? The expat who lives in her gorgeous home in a rich quarter of Lomé 3 months out of the year? How could I ever be that person? But there is so much to balance, I could never leave my life and my family and live in Togo full time, but I am more and more beginning to feel that there may be a compromise…

We enter the house, mostly empty with new tile, a new fridge and washing machine and new wooden furniture. The design of the house is open and welcoming, and a nice breeze flows through it, from the ocean which is only a few kilometers away. We go up to the 2nd floor and out onto the large balcony, where there is an outdoor shed with a large black cable running from it to the roof – the conduit from the solar modules to the inverter and batteries.

Lare opens the shed and begins to show me the details of his installation. He has done a fantastic job and I immediately see the difference between his expertise and Aminou’s experiments. Lare explains why he has used each size cable, each component. I won’t bore you with the details, but I am impressed. I furiously write everything down in my notebook, considerations that only he, a solar energy technician several degrees away from the equator, would know.

Soon, we go up a rickety wooden ladder and gingerly climb across the synthetic roofing – designed to deflect heat, sent from France – to see the 200W Schuco modules mounted flatly on aluminum racks. They are neatly installed and Lare wipes the dust off of them so that I can take photos. I am so happy to see such a professional installation.

There are many similarities between Lare and Aminou, despite the gap in experience and expertise (which Lare took a certain pride in pointing out, haha, he is human after all.) Both men feel privileged to have worked with people who have the knowledge and the means to install solar here. Both understand the lack of connaissance and sensibilisation about solar in Togo and agree that it is the largest obstacle to its expansion. Lare has done presentations, tried to sell large businesses on solar with financial arguments comparing the price of a generator and a PV system, but people just aren’t ready to take the leap. I am confident that together we can take them there…

The last note I will make to you about this day, for those of you still reading this blog (Mom, Rhoda,) is that taking a moto ride in Lomé at rush hour is one of the most hilarious, frightening things I have ever done. As I have written before, there are no such things are traffic laws or violations in practice in Lomé –if they exist in theory I don’t know about them, and apparently nor do any taxi drivers. Traffic lights are more often than not ignored, traffic patterns changing as a result of pushy station wagons taking advantage of a lull in the line of traffic coming from the opposite direction (and by a lull, I mean a space of more than 10 feet between one vehicle and the next.) Occasionally a police man will stand in the middle of an intersection, randomly waving a flashlight at the ground in one direction or the other, while talking on his cellphone. I have never seen a police man over about 25-28 years of age. Motos are 3-5 thick across each lane, following within 1 inch of each others’ back tires – this is not an exaggeration. You are so close to the people riding next to you that spontaneous conversation is common and you must hold your belongings close to your chest. The snaking train of motos continuously accelerates, brakes and winds in and around each other and in between cars, cutting each other off, narrowly missing each other and often catching a rearview mirror or protruding elbow.

No one wears helmets or even holds on.

22 Novembre - Aminou

2008-11-27T02:51:00.000-08:00

So I know I said that this blog would be shorter, but I have to record this stuff...it's as much for me as for all of you. Please don't me mad, I am just a woman of many words...c'est moi :)

Peruse at your will. Thanks for following.

* * * *

I am sitting in Chantal’s house (the batik lady in Kpalimé) when she mentions to me, as a sort of sidenote, that she knows someone who has worked with solar energy in the region. I mentioned your name to him, she says, and he was very excited. I will call him right now, she continues, give me your phone, I have no credit. Wondering why she hadn’t brought this up sooner, I pass my cellphone to her, she makes the call quickly in Ewe and, hanging up with a grin says, he will be here in 5 minutes.

Not 2 minutes later, Aminou appears. Entering with a semi-bow and a quiet ‘Yo,’ a Rastafarian knit cap covering a mass of grubby dreadlocks, he puts down a heavy canvas backpack, filled with g-d knows what. The first thing I notice are his kind, sparkling eyes and, after a few moments, I realize how indicative they are of both his tranquil nature and relentless curiosity.

We chat for about 15 minutes and I learn that he has installed 3-4 solar PV systems in the Kpalimé area with a team of young apprentices, he is a state-registered electrician and, both in spite of these qualifications and despite his appearance, he is not a Rasta Man.

I explain the bare bones of my project and, thrilled to have found each other yet equally cautious, we agree to meet on Saturday morning so that he can show me some of his work.

Megan (my friend in PC with whom I am working on Chantal’s marketing – VERY nice girl, actually the first PC volunteer I’ve met here with best intentions and gracious participation in Togolese society) lends me her digital camera for the morning and Aminou picks me up at Petit Suisse. His moto sputters out onto the road, an ancient blue Jincheng covered with rust and in desperate need a quick tightening of its clanking chain before we set out. He says that today we must be prudent.

We go first to a site in Kpalimé, where his young team grins at me and introduce themselves – Elli, Pappa, Komi and Koffi. They have been told that there is a yovo here that wants to train them further on solar energy and are timid yet brimming with excitement. We go inside and I check out his work in a newly constructed building, the future home of the Directeur of a water-purification NGO in Kpalimé. He has done all the wiring inside and out (to my inexperienced eye, it all looks clean and well installed, but it will take Jon and Ron’s careful examination of photos to make this determination…) and is now waiting for the patron to buy solar modules and other materials for him to install. He tells me that everything is ready, but he does not know how to or where to get the solar materials he needs. He explains that this is the gap in his experience – procurement and system design. For the installations he has completed, the client has always sent the materials to the site for him to install. He looks me in the eye and says that he knows he has a lot to learn and that he wants to be trained. He knows that there are missing links in his knowledge. This admission gives me an instant signal that he is who I have been looking for and jumpstarts a certain level of trust –he wants to learn and apply.

After photographing his work and asking a lot of questions we continue on to another site. Here, he has installed conduits and wiring and again, waits for the client, returning soon from Europe, to send modules, an inverter and other materials for him to install. He shows me where the panels will go. It is an area of about 15 feet squared. Approximately 4 200W modules will power the entire house…

I take a sample of the wiring he uses, ‘cuivre en qualité,’ he says, from Senegal. He explains with a shake of his head and a click of his tongue that you can’t find quality materials in Togo. Ca ne va pas.

Soon, we leave Kpalimé to visit a complete installation that he has done in the village of Agou-Akplolo, about 15 kilometers away, down a dusty, rocky road. I am entirely unsure if the Jincheng is going to make it (little do I know, this is nothing compared to what I will see on Monday...)

As we sputter down the road towards Lomé, Aminou tells me more about himself. First, he thanks me for not judging him by his appearance. He explains that he is accepted in Kpalimé by neither the Rasta community, as he does not approve of their reputation and behavior, nor the rest of the community, because they think he is a Rasta Man. He quietly states that he does not have many friends in Kpalimé, that his friends are his family and his work. People don’t know him, but he knows well who he is, and what he is capable of. At first I feel slightly sorry for him, but soon realise I see that he is not trying to make me feel guilty, he is gently presenting to me his strength, resilience and commitment to his work.

He tells me that no one believes that he, with his hair and alternative views about spirituality, is a state-certified electrician who was trained at L’Ecole National Polytechnique by the country’s finest professors and engineers. After that, no one can fathom that he has his own business and a team of apprentices that work for him. He tells me that there was a man in Lomé who, through the grapevine, heard of his good work. This man also heard that he was a Rasta. The man didn’t believe it, and commissioned him to come to Lomé to work at his home, just to see if the myth was true. Aminou proudly tells me that he and his team completed the work in about a week, to the entire quartier’s astonishment.

Aminou continues, telling me about how he once knew a Canadian girl who came to Kpalimé. She wanted to marry him and bring him to Canada for solar training. He tells me (and I can sense a degree of pain in his voice) how he turned her down, because he has a wife that loves him, and that he does not want to come to Canada. He wants the training to come to him so that he can apply it here in Togo. When he recounts this story, I almost fall off of the moto and try, with difficulty, to keep my mouth shut in order to hold back my excitement.

I learn that Aminou’s work ethic is comprised of 2 elements – the physical and the spiritual. Unlike most here, he does not believe that ‘dieu va faire tout’ (G-d will take care of everything.) It takes faith but it also takes hard work. I am instantly interested in his spiritual side…he has extensive knowledge of plants and traditional medicine, which I encourage him to write down because, he explains, the connaissance is entwined only in ancient stories, locked up in the heads of wise old men…I ask him what will happen when they die? He says that the passing on of knowledge is an almost sacred responsibility, not to be taken lightly. Importantly, this relates to his electrical work, as he holds an unwavering commitment to his apprentices, to share his understanding with those who wish to learn from him. He explains that he needs to learn from “me and my team” so that he may expand his solar connaissance in order to work better, spread the use of solar and impart this experience to the next generation.

It is just incredible how things are falling into place, how I have found the perfect person. Jon is going to go through the roof when he hears who I have found…Aminou is already out of his mind excited to meet Mister Jon, especially when I told him that Jon too has long hair :)

Aminou tells me that we are going to visit an installation that he completed with one of his professors, Mr. Notawu, for ‘un vieux sage’ (a wise old man) in Agou-Akplolo. This ‘sage’ is married to a European woman, spent a lot of his life in Portugal and sent from Europe the materials to install a 400W (not 4000W, 400W) solar electric system on his Togolese villa. The ‘sage’ used to use a generator but, as it made too much noise in the tiny village and he had seen solar in Portugal, he switched over. Aminou says that he has been so lucky to work with ‘les gens qui me comprennent’ (people who understand me,) as no one in Togo knows about solar energy and it is a shame.

We stop once, after Aminou shouts something in Ewe to a woman along the side of the road. He slows down and tells me to hop off, he will be right back. He walks over to the woman, who I now notice is struggling to place an enormous silver bowl filled firewood on her head, while a baby strapped to her back wails and slips down her pagne. He helps her to readjust the baby and place the bowl on her head, smiling and greeting her quickly in Ewe. When he comes back he tells me that, not to be egoïste, but he wants me to know that it’s not just anyone who would have stopped to help her, with a yovo on his moto. She was astonished.

We arrive in Agou-Akplolo amidst yovo-yovo-bonsoir-shreiking children and women waving exuberantly from their posts in the tiny marché – the typical yovo greeting in tiny villages. We pull up to a white, walled-in compound and a friendly old woman in a pagne and ripped, collared tank top, nearly translucent from being washed so many times, opens the front gate. She welcomes us and, of course, brings chairs outside, sits us down and offers us a drink. After we have taken our sips of water (cold and refreshing from the solar-powered refrigerator!) we go through the introductions and Aminou explains that I am an American (he lets me know that he understands that it is very important that people know I am not European, for which I am incredibly grateful) who works with solar energy and we have come to inspect his installation. She claps her hands and with a smile, tells us to go ahead, all is working well.

Aminou says that if he had done a bad job, she wouldn’t let him back in. He installed this system in 2004 and there have been no problems with it. I am reassured. He explains that no one besides him is allowed to touch any of the equipment because another electrician might flip a wrong switch and ruin the entire system. He says that, unfortunately, another electrician may do this on purpose, to generate more work for himself…I am not surprised.

I check out the installation. Two, 200W modules mounted on an iron frame, power the entire villa. The villa is not small, but, as in most cases, demands only enough electricity for a few radios, fans and TVs, a fridge and lighting. Simplicity and rationality in consumption. A beautiful thing. There is a 1000W inverter and 2 deep-cycle batteries. All sent from Europe, Aminou explains, you can’t find these materials in Togo. There is a controller before the inverter as well, that I don’t recognize. I take a photo.

I notice that Aminou has installed an entirely new system of wiring, switches, light bulbs, etc. for the solar system. All of these have been installed next to or above the former switches and wires, which he explains were for the generator. I wonder why he was unable to connect the solar system to the existing electrical service…perhaps there is a reason, but perhaps he just didn’t know. I didn’t ask him right away because I didn’t want to offend him, but if it is true that he simply did not know, I hope that these are the kinds of gaps in efficiency and knowledge that we will be able to fill.

Before leaving, we are led to a school around the corner that has a few solar modules mounted on the roof. The old woman explains that UNESCO and a team of French installers placed them there a few years ago but that the system is no longer working. I ask why and if locals were a part of the installation and she says yes, there were Togolese involved but, ‘Oho,’ I do not know why it is broken. This is important information, as I have now seen several solar systems in Togo that were installed by foreigners, worked for a while and are now gaté (broken.)

This is my greatest fear. Like the farm equipment that was sent here by Europeans, broke down and are unfixable. Even though the mechanics here seem to me to be literal magicians, the necessary parts are manufactured in Austria. Like the tanks sent to Darfur by the UN, which sat at the port in Dakar for nearly a year, because no one in NY followed up on import-export permitting. Like so many unsuccessful development projects that don’t build capacity, that don’t train people to operate and troubleshoot, that just don’t go far enough…in my opinion, however well-intentioned, this is just not helpful. And we’re not going to let it happen.

Aminou, LARE and Too Much Too Say!

2008-11-25T09:24:00.000-08:00

So much has been going on in the past week I haven't even had the time to write a proper blog...I take notes everyday and one of these days will have the energy to sit down and type it all out. I am learning so much about Togo's solar commmunity and have been making some major inroads. I am currently in sweaty, dusty Lomé, having spent the entire day at the Ministry of Education with one of the country's 3 (yes, three) renewable energy experts.

Doors are starting to open and the possibilities are becoming real and endless...it is interesting how small the world and government are in a place like togo...for all of its corruption and formality, the "solar energy sector" is tiny and the man I am with, LARE Damessanou, is very forhthcoming, motivated and helpful. There are still many many questions to be answered, dots to connect and cards to be held close to the chest, but I think I am finally getting somewhere.

I have been visiting existing installations in the country and, most importantly, think that I have found my team...Aminou, an electrician in Kpalimé with kind eyes who has been judged harshly by his community and excelled all the same, and his team of young apprentices, have dabbled in solar and are ready to learn and apply.

I am once again nestled in close with friends in Kpalimé and feel at one with the squeaking of the Fanmilk man, the familiar smells of burning garbage and licorice smelling soap, and, of course, the second season of the Yovo Show.

Much more to come...you can always count on me to elaborate.

Myeadogo -
K

20 Novembre – Les Changements

2008-11-20T03:26:00.000-08:00

Just like last time, it has taken me a day or so (or 4) to adjust to la vie Togolaise. The early mornings, raucous Ewe and constant drone of sputtering motos, the crying babies, hungry chickens and grinning school children.

My friends here at FECECAV and in Kpalimé are beside themselves with happiness to see me. I have been nearly bowled over several times (and I am not exaggerating) by an exuberant collectrice and an ecstatic Grace (Daniel’s, the CEO of FECECAV, daughter, whose love for me warms my heart as much here in her village as it does from more than 5000 miles away.

On one hand, nothing here has changed. This is the vicious cycle of poverty, this is the burden of slow and cumbersome economic development (or, more accurately, the lack thereof.) This is the developing world. I have so much to be grateful for in Philadelphia and I never forget it.

On the other hand, small things have changed, and I have noticed them all – to everyone’s surprise, for some reason. There are new curtains in someone’s home, they have acquired a TV set or a cupboard, where once was a pile of dishes and an empty wall. There are new placemats at Petit Suisse, and a new sign out front to try to draw in more business. FECECAV has a new money-transfer partner and a “permanent” internet connection. In every office, wires and computer equipment have been tidied up and there is a large table in the once empty grand salon. Avocado and mango season has ended, and now is the time for oranges and plantains.

All of these little things are more grandiose and worthy of note than any skyscraper I have seen being built in New York City. Life evolves, life keeps going, no matter the circumstances. And everyone here still smiles and asks if I have slept well, how is everyone in America, and thank you, yes, we are still doing well here in Togo. We hope that your hero Barack Obama will bring change to Africa. I lie and say, yes, he will.

Everyone also asks the same question – what have you brought for me?

I have noticed the transience of human life. In my absence, certain people who were a large part of my day are no longer here. Daniel’s mother, who offered me a toothless ‘Allafia’ every morning has returned to her village in the North, where she will most likely stay until she dies (this is what I was told when I asked where she was.) Esse, one of the cassieres at FECECAV has joined her husband in the states. Rogier has had a baby girl and Kofficho has lost one. Perhaps most striking is the absence of Felize, Mensah’s son and the constant smiling and naughty presence at Petit Suisse. He decided that he wanted to try yet another profession and, upon leaving Petit Suisse, has left not an address, not a number, not a word as to his whereabouts. Mensah said he was seen down by Hotel Cristal, and shakes his head saying he had a good thing going here and whatever happens to him is the fault of his wicked nature. I can’t stop thinking that if my little brother suddenly disappeared….

The rainy season has mostly ended and the Harmattan is coming. L’harmattan are the sandy winds that sweep down from the Sahara in December and January. They dominate the sky and the climate, leaving a dusty film on everything in sight and stinging the skin. Although l’harmattan has not yet arrived in full force, already I can feel the grit in my teeth as I ride on Inno’s moto, my light gray shirt quickly turning a reddish tan from the dust in the air. The taxi-moto drivers now all wear makeshift masks over their mouths, so as not to breathe in all of the dust.

In regard to my trip and my SunPower Afrique work, I have unfortuately been told that I cannot attend many of the meetings and complete much of my the work I had hoped for by myself. Mister Jon needs to be in attendance. You can imagine my disappointment and discomfort…culture, diplomacy and bureaucracy never cease to amaze and confound me. So my plan has changed a bit, and I will be here for about 2 weeks instead of the month – but there is still some work to be done.

First of all, I am helping Athanase write Kiva descriptions while I am here, as I can post them on the site directly in English, which means that the loans get funded more quickly. I am happy to help while I am here.

I will meet with my contact at the Togolese NGO ACDI-Solar, who turns out to be the most knowledgeable person about renewable energy that I have met here in Togo. I hope to find out where they buy their solar modules and batteries, who installs them, who trains these installers, what problems they have encountered, etc. This information will be invaluable. No need to reinvent the wheel. It will be of course a preliminary conversation, because I am only a white woman, and we will continue our plans and our discussion in January or February when Mister Jon, my patron, returns with me.

I will also meet with a young man who runs an NGO called Youth for the Environment and with Jacques at the National Microfinance Committee to present my materials so that he sees the evolution of the project. I am working on translating all of my documents into French right now, so that I may leave them with the appropriate people in anticipation of Jon’s arrival.

I am also going to complete my research on material availability and pricing (bamboo, batteries, etc.) and our workforce. I have realized that the workforce piece will be the easiest. There is no work here and many able, intelligent and innovative mechanics, electricians and carpenters.

And I am spending much time with ma cherie Innocent, who is as wonderful as I left him, if not more so.

I will write again soon, about my meetings, and will see you all back in the US around the end of the month. I try not to be discouraged and anxious, as people here still love my project, but I know I can’t do it alone. I’m not sure who I was kidding :) This time for some reason has also been a bit more difficult for me logistically – my new cellphone didn’t work here so it took a few days to get a new one so that I could call home, my bank card didn’t work and it took 3 expensive calls to Commerce Bank in Maryland to sort it out, and now my camera seems to be broken…Annoying, stupid little things that of course are completely negligible but make me uneasy. Cava mieux maintenant, but I look forward to seeing my Mom and Everest sitting in our living room again soon.

Togo Round 2!

2008-11-13T12:42:00.000-08:00

At the request of nearly EVERYONE I know, I will ensure that this round of blogging is significantly less verbose than last time :)

I am in NY and leave from JFK tonight at 7pm and arrive in Lome on Saturday morning, after a full day layover in Cassablanca. Inno will be waiting for me. I can't wait to be back.

I have meetings scheduled with government officials to learn more about Togolese policy towards solar energy and import/export, NGOs and MFIs to forge potential partnerships and of course, plenty of time scheduled to work at FECECAV, my home base.

In my new spirit of conciseness, I will leave it here, and see you all in a month! Next message from Kpalime.

GO SOLAR.

2008-07-29T15:32:00.000-07:00

Please click on these images to enlarge them!

SunPower Afrique and FECECAV - Photo Slideshow

2008-06-04T08:25:00.000-07:00

CLICK THIS LINK: Shutterfly Slideshow

15 Mai – Lavie

2008-05-15T08:56:00.000-07:00

Although I have driven through it countless times, I have never actually stopped in Lavie for more than 10 minutes…yesterday morning Jules picked me up and, camera in hand, we went to take pictures of his clients for Kiva postings. As soon as I picked up a bit of Kiva work again (unofficially of course, in my personal capacity) the frustrated observations came rolling back, even more starkly in one of the poorest villages I have seen yet in Togo.

Jules’ work as Chef of the Lavie caisse, of whichhe is incredibly proud, centers around providing tiny loans in the villages between Kpalimé and Adéta – Kpimé-Seva, known for its spectacular cascade, Lavie itself, where old men lounge under an enormous mango tree and petit-commerce somehow manages to eke out some meager existence and Akata, a sandy village that I swear has as many goats as it does people, all roaming about aimlessly…Jules beams when he shouts backwind to me on his moto, “Ici, c’est mon travail! Ils m’ont besoin!” (Here, this is my work! They need me!)

These are the bona fide African poor. In these villages a trip to Kpalimé is an annual and costly excursion…whose inhabitants sometimes never leave their dusty compounds and dismal mango stands except to forage in the bush for firewood, or to fill silver bowls with water at the pump and slowly slosh it back to their yards. Thus far, these villages are the only place in Togo that I felt a bit discouraged for these people. It was mostly in their reaction to me…the children were a more delighted, yovo-shreiking, giggling bunch than I have ever encountered…they literally followed me around the village in an ecstatic gaggle of jumbled ewe and toothy grins, squealing yovo! yovo! yovo! yovo! in unison until an old man (the most feared and revered member of these traditional communities) austerely cut off their parade and they tore themselves away from me in a somewhat-bashful-somewhat-frustrated retreat. While I was happy to snap their photo like a good yovo and wave and smile back at them, the fact that the only white people they ever see are those that speed by them in a commotion of dust and loud honking on their way to the next “tourist attraction” is incredibly sad. Everyone’s smiles were as wide and sincere as ever, but the lack of economic opportunity and stagnancy of their poverty was completely devastating…

There are exceptions of course. There are those that make the weekly trek into Kpalimé or Adéta to hawk goods at the marché rather than doze by the side of the road in hope that the occasional passerby might want to buy a tiny sack of arachides for 100CFA. There is also a man who has created a palm-roofed “factory” with 5 apprentices that, with their hands and bare feet, weave unique pagnes out of coarse thread (their weaving contraptions are fascinating.) But for the most part, these rural villages are static, sluggish and often forgotten. Their inhabitants are the poorest of the poor and, ironically but not surprisingly, are least able to benefit from microcredit – Kiva credit? Forget about it.

FECECAV has a tiny office in Lavie, an outpost of CECAV Avenir, with 2 employees, 2 rooms, 2 fans, and Jules at its helm. He is one of the most organized and proactive branch managers I have seen in action here and regrettably works on a computer that is so old and slow it can’t connect to a digital camera and a keyboard that is more often than not out of commission. As it is one of the smaller caisses, sort of by default and as a result of limited resources (not that I am justifying this by any means,) FECECAV doesn’t see upgrading his equipment as a priority. CECAV Avenir-Lavie does not generate as much revenue as other branches because of its own small size and, more importantly, the small size of its loans, which obviously yield less interest.

The petits crédits disbursed by CECAV Avenir-Lavie are a consequence of the type of people taking out these loans…the poorest clients who embody the real, intended impact of microfinance – a true MICRO loan, a starting point of a credit of $50 or less, for a client with everything to lose and no where to begin, destined to succeed little by little by little. I was struck by the genuine character of microfinance in Jules’ villages again and again, as he introduced me to clients who started out with loans as small as 10,000CFA ($25) and, after successfully paying it back, have now taken out $50 loans.

Tragically, these loans are the least desirable and profitable for an MFI, as it takes 50 of these miniature loans to accrue the same amount of interest as 2-3 larger loans – which would be given to someone with a larger capital guarantee or entrepreneurial experience. But don’t we have a social mission to try to also reach the poorest of the working poor? At the same time, how can it be worth it to an overstretched MFI working in a developing country to support clients that yield less of a profit in the short term? I see all sides of the equation and am unconvinced of a moral reconciliation of, on one hand, the immediacy of needs, cash-flow and entrepreneurship, and on the other, the long-term ethical benefits of exhaustedly providing tiny loans to the most desperate of the poor.

Additionally, and this is the point that upsets me, these loans are destined never to appear on the Kiva site. While FECECAV can sometimes justify privileging higher-interest loans, rich Americans cannot…

A major flaw in Kiva’s methodology is that they encourage (not necessarily intentionally) MFI to pass over these authentic micro-credits, because a) it is far too much work to post that many loans on the site (the current workload is painful enough) and b) the 0% interest rate will bring a larger monetary benefit to the MFI on a big loan. While financially this is a good thing for the MFI, it misses the ethical point of reaching the poorest of the poor. Which is Kiva aiming for? If it is the former, the social mission is greatly diminished – why not just give loans directly to the MFI, rather than make them do all of this work chasing down clients, taking photos, writing descriptions, and buying internet time? If you really want to give people a chance to “loan to the working poor,” you must make it possible to reach ALL of the working poor, the POOREST of the working poor, not just those that are most convenient…

I thought about whether it is ok to say that these results come about simply “by default” or can be seen as “unintended consequences…” In my opinion, this is insupportable – if you’re going to do something, do it right. While well intentioned, yet another attempt at eradicating poverty misses the most dire candidates (and in this case, encourages FECECAV to overlook them as well…I saw this with my own eyes when I told Daniel that I wanted to post ten 25,000CFA loans from Lavie. He waved me away saying it wasn’t worth it. After much persuasion he allowed me to do it, but 2 hours and 3,000CFA of internet time later, we had entered 10 new loans and hadn’t made a dent in the monthly limit…)

Unfortunately, the Kiva policies and processes that I tried to train people on in my first month here (when I was officially working as a fellow) have all but dissipated…it is incredibly difficult to maintain procedures and organized processes here, as a result of the constant need for improvisation. Kiva work becomes an even mightier task every time there is unreliable electricity and internet, a client isn’t available for a photograph because their uncle died and they are in Lomé for the week (let alone the fact that the loan officer took the time and energy to research his dossier to make sure it is in accord with nit-picky policies, and to go find the client in the first place – this is not as easy as you might think,) or a certain computer or won’t read a particular USB key or digital camera. The inventiveness and flexibility with technological equipment and information sharing I see here on a daily basis blows my mind. It’s the reality, it’s the only thing that works right now and it makes Kiva’s meticulous policies and procedures seem utterly absurd on the ground.

The thing that does seem to be working is the spreadsheet I made with all of the required information for a Kiva posting. It is very simple, can be filled out on the computer or by hand and encourages the loan officers to sit down with the photos they have taken as well as the dossiers for those clients and fill it out, simultaneously verifying the information. There is a box to list the number of the photo from the camera itself, in order to identify the client here in Kpalimé if the individual branches cannot download and rename the photos themselves. The process of downloading and renaming photos and bringing them to Kpalimé along with word documents of client dossiers generated directly from PERFECT is a long way off…that formula is truly another ball game and, while it is a fantastic and sustainable vision, relies too much on technology and a level of “orderliness” that just does not exist here. For the moment (until we bring them solar energy!!) if FECECAV can use the simplified documents and abridged version of the process that I have emphasized and re-emphasized and re-emphasized, to generate $31,000 from the site every month, I think we will all be happy.

I do worry about FECECAV’s success with Kiva in my absence…as much as I have tried to be hands off this month, I have largely managed the information gathering process, delegated business-description-writing tasks, re-sized photos and even helped with a few postings. I waited until about the 5th of the month to see if anyone was going to jumpstart the process for May and, when no one did, I got the ball rolling. If I hadn’t, there is a chance that they may have lost out this month, which is by far the worst outcome and I could never live with myself if, in the name of “independence and sustainability,” I didn’t help out. However, what is going to happen for the rest of the summer when I am not here?

Early on, it became apparent that there is no individual here in Kpalimé that can be solely responsible for managing and carrying out Kiva work – there is just no one with that kind of time. I have decided that I am going to continue to help them for the next few months from afar, to ease the transition into autonomous Kiva-ing. I can’t leave them in the lurch and will try to continue to remind Daniel at the end of each month to get people collecting info for the next month and am happy to also personally post some loans with my speedy internet connection in the States. This is what friends and partners are for, and I maintain my mission to help FECECAV in whatever capacity I can.

* * *

Later in the afternoon I had a rendezvous with the director of an NGO (who spotted me at FECECAV one day and asked to chat) whose insurmountable mission is to orient the mentality of Togo’s youth towards the idea that democracy and transparency, peace and equality, and education are fundamental human rights, indigenous to Africa, that must be restored. His intentions are honorable, and after initially balking at his idealism (shocking I know, coming from me of all people) I was won over by his ingenuity and optimism. He organizes “training camps” for Togolese youth to discuss, impart and educate on the values his NGO promotes. The first two camps were funded by a private Togolese benefactor. The third, based around the theme of “Good Citizenship,” is only partially funded and he obviously was hoping that I could help him out. I explained that I am starting my own project and am really stretched to the fundraising limit right now, but that I would try to find some contacts for him.

Every day another man asks me with pleading eyes if I can find someone in my country to sponsor his daughters. Every day another of my friends in Kpalimé suggests some scheme to export mangos or peanuts to sell at their inflated price in New York. With all of my heart and capacity, I want to help everyone here and it is hard to realize that one person can’t do it all, no matter how much hope rests on me. Eventually that will kill me…however, there is no reason I can’t occasionally help raise $1000 for a particularly impressive cause, send packages of clothes and toys a few times a year to kids in Kpalimé, help FECECAV when they need help with Kiva and launch SunPower Afrique…all at the same time…right?

13 Mai – Mister Jon, the CNM and SunPower Afrique

2008-05-13T05:12:00.000-07:00

After an hour of struggling with 3 malfunctioning computers and 2 printers that were out of ink, I finally managed to frustratedly print my dossier to take to Lomé. We were meeting with the Exec. Dir. of the Comite Nationale de Microfinance (National Commitee for Microfinance, hereafter referred to as the CNM) in 2 hours, and it takes 3 hours to drive to the capital from Kpalimé…no one else seemed to mind, so I jumped into the car and silently fumed at the office equipment and lack of timeliness. For the first time in a while my patience wore thin…but after about 5 minutes of Togolese air blowing in my face on the route nationale, I was over it. But still nervous.

Our meeting with the CNM was an integral part of getting SunPower Afrique off the ground, and before going in I was surprised at how edgy I was… I wasn’t sure whether to expect some stuffy minister to blow me off, a friendly minister to smile at my idealism and tell me it will never work or somewhere in between. Instead, the reaction of the Director was more positive than I could have ever hoped for, and I am so excited right now I can barely put it into words…

We pulled up only a few minutes late (thank goodness for Yao’s blaring horn) to a freshly painted white and blue compound. PNUD (United Nations Development Program, UNDP, in French) was painted right next to “Strategie Nationale de Microfinance” which came as a total surprise to me…I soon figured out why…

Inside the walls were a series of immaculate blue and white cottages, each with at least 2 air conditioning units humming outside. We were ushered into one of the cottages and I was immediately greeted by a slam of frigid air that I have not felt anywhere on this continent since my arrival – not in the airport, not in any hotel, even in Accra…the sweaty clamminess that I have not been able to shake for 2 and half months evaporated into thin air and I literally almost cried out in surprise…so this is where all the money UNDP sends to Togo’s microfinance institutions goes – yet another fantastic example of how little accountability international organizations (particularly the UN) have for the allocation of their funding. But it’s ok, member states and secretariat directors can sleep at night with clear consciences, knowing that they have sent loads of money to that poor, tiny West African country…its not their problem that they’re turning their back to corruption and reinforcing state complicity in the cycle of poverty, right?

Jacques, the Director of PASNAM, the committee in charge of implementing the Strategie Nationale and a state organ of the CNM, shook our hands with a smile and asked us to wait for him in his office. We walked across the courtyard again into a larger room that was full of tables and chairs in a classroom-style configuration. When Jacques came in a few minutes later we settled ourselves in the center of the room and began to chat.

Jacques was incredibly friendly and while we of course had to indulge in the usual formalities, greetings, etc. it was much less forced and superfluous than normal procedures…I am not sure if this was because of Jacques, who was laid back and pleasant, because of my and Dad’s style or because Daniel mostly kept his mouth shut. Daniel actually let me do most of the talking, and once I got started, my usual confidence and verbosity took over and I had to remind myself to let others get a word in edgewise.

I explained our project and our vision, and Jacques was incredibly enthusiastic to it (and to the fact that I was an American that spoke such good French, haha.) Moreso than I had ever thought was possible. I truly thought that he would be more skeptical – of another yovo coming in with an idea for an NGO and an optimistic picture for Togo’s development – unconvinced of our sincerity first of all, but moreso of the mere viability of another development project. But this is the difference with our project for the introduction of solar energy on a large scale in Togo – it just makes sense. After seeing the numbers, talking about job creation and economic growth…his enthusiasm grew.

Dad’s expertise and practical mentality towards the efficiency of solar energy and conservation are invaluable and spectacular. I tend to be ambiguous and vague in my idealism, and he has totally grounded me and the vision of this project. In addition, he has brought some essential points to my concept paper in regard to long-term changes to Togo’s economy through the creation of jobs along the supply chain and training a workforce to install and maintain the photovoltaic systems. Just having him next to me this morning made me feel so much more comfortable and credible – I have a real expert here at my side. I have felt this way at each caisse we have visited too. He knows exactly what to measure, where to look (and when to look under it) and which questions to ask (in English and then I translate.) He is impressive and I could not do this without him.

Dad interjected here and there throughout the meeting to make sure I was emphasizing certain points (mainly the creation of jobs and the long-term environmental, financial and societal benefits of jumpstarting a solar economy) and I highlighted my enthusiasm for Togo, our experience with solar in the states and certain points in the dossier. At the end of our meeting, Jacques was beaming. He said that we have truly come to Togo at the perfect time and with the perfect project, and that he is going to immediately talk to Fedy, the president of both the CNM, APIM and FUCEC (not sure how I feel about the fact that he is president of all three…)

This is really going to happen…

If we look at this project like a piece of dry, unyielding land here in Togo that must, for the sake of the health and needs of my family, yield a mountain of fruit, the precious seeds were planted today…the seeds that I pored over, obsessed about, examined and re-examined for the past month or longer…I have burnt my field to the ground, commenced to weed it and scour it, pulling out all the rocks and roots, raking and hoeing the soil with a machete to prepare it for planting…researching crop rotations, insecticides and agricultural products…and today the seeds were dropped in and fingers crossed. There is a long, long, difficult way to go. But there is no turning back now, and I must pray for rain and tend my crops with diligence and care. Or my field will be lost, and my livelihood with it…

Over the past week and a half, together with Yao and various CECAV employees, Dad and I visited nearly all of the FECECAV caisses. We measured awnings and interior spaces, counted lightbulbs and projected numbers of computers, fans and printers, recorded roof types and south-facing facades. With the data we collected, we are now ready to build a business plan with real numbers and real timelines.

We exhausted ourselves, which I didn’t realize until we had managed to get Dad across the border into Ghana (which is no easy feat and, after two nightmarish border crossings, if I ever see one of those chartreuse Ghanaian government uniforms again I am going to scream and run in the other direction) and I came back to Petit Suisse and noticed that Dad wasn’t sitting on the front porch in the plastic chair chatting with Saf, or dozing with a book in his lap. I didn’t know exactly what to do with myself, until I realized how tired I was…

It was amazing having Dad here, despite the difficult moments in which I realized that no matter how close someone is to me and how badly I want them to understand, my personal experience and emotional attachment to this place is something I will never be able to explain.

We Costanzas are just not normal yovos, and I have always known where I got it from. Dad’s eccentricity was vibrant and animated here, where he quickly made friends with everyone due to his openness and amusing nature. Nana was with us every minute, every breath, every smile, every step in the gritty, red earth. There is also now an abundance of SunPower Builders hats and t-shirts being worn with pride around Kpalimé :)

My friend Hypo says that now I can “put FECECAV in my pocket,” which he said was not merely because I have seen so many of its offices, but because I care about it so much, have seen its strengths and weaknesses inside and out and have truly integrated myself into it …the thought of leaving here in 3 weeks makes my stomach churn. If I thought my adjustment in coming here was difficult, I don’t know what I am going to do when I come back…the only reassurance I can find is in knowing that my sejour with Togo is far from over.

An invigorated sense of community, love and geography has descended into my mind, creating a spectacular ruckus before ultimately resolving itself. The bond I have formed with the people and atmosphere of this place has stimulated and motivated my very existence. My life and future have been forever changed, and I am genuinely bilingual now, in more ways than pure language acquisition...if any of that makes a bit of sense…haha…

All my love,
K

22 Avril - Français à la Togolais

2008-04-22T09:38:00.000-07:00

My French is completely different than it was when I arrived here…language is a fascinating thing. My mom noticed it the first time she heard me say Merci to someone on the street while we were talking on the phone, about 2 weeks after my arrival. She gasped, saying Kira! Did you just roll the “r” in Merci?!

I quickly realized that no one could understand me when I swallowed and hacked out my Parisian/Quebecoise sounding R’s and rounded out the ends of my biens and bonjours. Much worse, people thought I was French! This is one of the biggest insults I can receive here, which I also quickly realized…when people find out I am American and not French (or Belgian or Swiss or another French-speaking, European country) they are thrilled. They are also always shocked that I speak French, which makes total sense, considering that Americans aren’t the world’s most renowned for embracing foreign cultures, particularly languages (must we remember Pat’s Steaks…)

The hesitation-bordering-on-full-out-disdain surrounding Les Françaises is partially due to the horrific legacy of colonialism, but more (as with most European countries) a result of their utter lack of effective development assistance and general interaction with modern Togo. However (and I have really heard this kind of praise from so many people here) when people start to go on and on about how wonderful Amerique is and all we do for Africa I can help but wonder…Don’t they remember slavery?! It really shows the desperation and trusting optimism for anyone who is here to help them…which makes me a bit sad, but at the same time does make me a bit more confident in the real impact of my country’s work around the world. IPA and my work at the UN jaded me a bit about the US’s contributions to the World Food Programme, USAID, African Development Banks, and the most well known international NGOs, which, for all of their shortcomings and disastrous faults, are there, when everyone else is gone, to care for the world’s most desperate populations. Sure, China provides instant gratification in the form of sandelettes and shiny cellphones, but at what cost? And what about sustainability? If there is no cost-benefit analysis that exists in their favor, there is no way they will go on. And most European countries can’t say that they have done either!

I’d like to think that what makes us different is our attitude, and that Americans, like me, have grown up in a culture of diversity and globalization, as opposed to the rampant xenophobia and racism that clouds so much of Europe’s much more recent past…but really, what about the lynchings that still go on in the Southern US? What about the silent and appalling segregation of our urban centers and schools? What about the fact that our economy would collapse in a day if it weren’t for illegal immigrants and Texans and (even East Coast Republicans!) still want to build a 20-foot-high wall to keep those damned Mexicans out…so maybe it is just some of us. But here in Togo, I have seen the impact of a few, and it makes me a little bit more content.

But back to our discussion of language, a much less loaded topic…or is it…

Influenced by Ewe, Kabye and other indigenous languages, Togolese French just sounds so cool (I know that isn’t so eloquently put, but I have no better words for it.) The West African accent, which I have completely taken on, is characterized mostly by the rolling of the “r’s” and by the tonal nuances taken from Ewe. Conversation is highlighted by woops and high-pitched sighs that signify excitement, surprise or frustration and a distinctive clicking in the back of the throat to express annoyance or anger (which is often substituted for a lip smack that sounds like it has been sucked back into the mouth.) When you are laughing too hard you draw out the 2 syllables “ah-WO!” while grabbing your burning abs.

The usage of French here very much reflects West African lifestyle and culture, manifested in commonly used phrases and slang. European/Conventional French sounds totally out of place here and I half recoil/half giggle when yovos use adjectives like “sympa” (nice) and “super!” and verb phrases like “faire le footing” (to go for a run.)

I have created a little dictionary below, of the most common ones, and I hope you all get as much of a kick out of it as I did making it :)
(the things I sometimes resort to when I have nothing to do and no electricity, haha…)

1. Ça va aller/ Ça ira
Literal translation: It is going to go/it will go
Meaning: This too shall pass; It will be ok
Usage: To provide comfort, strength and optimism through adversity; Any time from a cut on your finger, to a lack of rain, to a death in the family or a bad bout of palu, to generally feeling frustrated or disappointed; often used in conjunction with “Du Courage” (see below) This phrase is listed as number 1 for a reason, I hear it 800 times a day. I really see this phrase as a microcosm of life and reality in Togo – shit happens, but we’ll get through it, we always do. It is both beautiful and tragic.

2. Ou bien?
Literal translation: Or good/well
Meaning: Right? Don’t you agree?
Usage: Posed as a question and similar to the Canadian “eh,” this useful little phrase is often added to the end of a sentence to gauge consensus and others’ opinions of what you have just said. It is also used in reverse, as a response if you really agree with someone (“I know, right!?”) Robert, le Directeur d’Audit et Controle, is a big fan of throwing an “ou bien” at the end of his biggest points during trainings and presentations, to make sure that everyone understands his statement and/or is paying attention. People often use this phrase with me when saying (sometimes with a big grin, sometimes in utter seriousness,) “You’re going to leave that laptop with me when you leave! Ou bien?”

3. Il faut aller et revenir (Ewe : MaheMAva)
Literal translation: You must go and return
Meaning: Go so that you can come back!
Usage: Whenever anyone leaves in the morning, goes out to run and errand or is in a hurry to get somewhere. I put this one in Ewe too because it was one of the most important phrases I learned here. It is a striking testament to how people enjoy each others’ company and wish them well, so that they can return safely home (which is also sad, because life is hard, and simply making it through the day and coming home to your family can sometimes be difficult.) Daniel’s wife always says this to me in the morning when I scurry past the boutique, trying to get to work on time amidst the flurry of greetings.

4. Du courage
Literal translation: Of courage
Meaning: Be strong! You’ll get through it.
Usage: Often employed as a little joke when people complain unnecessarily about the heat or a mosquito bite (usually directed at me…haha,) “Du Courage” is similar to “ça va aller,” but is used more specifically to express understanding of suffering and to provide, literally, courage, strength and endurance. This is used to encourage someone with a tough job (aka a woman who has to walk 5 miles into town every day from her village with a huge bucket of tomatoes on her head, a baby tied to her back and 2 toddlers trailing behind her,) whose child is sick or whose entire livelihood has just been destroyed in a bush fire.

5. On es là?/Tu es là ?
Literal translation : One is/You are there ?
Meaning: Are you ok? Is everything good?
Usage: Anytime someone looks confused, troubled, tired or otherwise spacey; often used when it is particularly hot, the electricity has been out for hours, or someone has made a long trip. This phrase is also a good example of the West African use of “on” (one,) which is more often than not used in place of “je” (I) or “tu” (you.) I have started doing this a lot too – instead of saying “Je vais manger” (I am going to eat,) I’ll say “On va manger” (One will eat.) As I said, language is a fascinating thing…

6. Doucement
Literal translation: Carefully
Meaning: Be careful/Go carefully
Usage: Whenever someone revs their moto too agressively, trips, bumps into their desk or falls and breaks their leg (note that there is no discerning between the pains involved with these things…one of the peace corps girls went on about this angrily, saying how it drives her crazy that when she is in pain from stubbing her toe the Togolese will simply say, “Oh hunny, doucement!”) I think it is hilarious. Needless to say, people say this to me numerous times a day, in my graceful state, tripping over cords and tree roots, knocking over chairs and struggling with the FECECAV gate. I’m sure you’ll all love this, and I will never live it down, but due to my constant poise and elegance, Athanase has taken to calling me “Gracia.”

7. Bonsoir
Literal translation: Good evening
Meaning: Good “afternoon”
Usage: Anytime after 11am. In Kpalimé, if it is possible that you have already eaten your midday repas or have just said Bonjour too many times already, it is perfectly legitimate to start saying Bonsoir. I was initially very confused by this phenomenon, but now have started doing it myself, shocking every European I meet, greeting them with a Bonsoir! at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. The Togolese nature of this trend is also apparent in its use in the children’s song, “Yovo yovo bonsoir! Cava bien? Merci!” that they chant in a sing-songy, nursery rhyme type melody anytime I walk past – even if it is 8am.

The Ewe that I have learned is a testament to not only how we quickly learn “useful phrases” in other languages (just like the little guides found in Barnes and Noble,) but also to what these phrases are in Ewe and what it says about the culture here. Meeting someone, seeing someone for the first time in the morning and saying goodbye for the evening are long-winded, As I have already mentioned (in reference to the African businessmen,) conversations are characterized by incredibly long introductions – “Good morning Director, how are you? Did you sleep well? And you health? How was the voyage?” (I now know how to say all of these things, as well as their responses, and absolutely love the looks on peoples’ faces when I am able to have a petit conversation with them in Ewe.)

This definitely says something about Togolese relationships, in that people do care about each other in a different way here – can you see anyone on the subway in New York, even if I knew them well, asking me every morning how I slept the night before? On a different note, it also indicates the fact that everyone cultivates relationships in a careful and calculated manner. Everyone knows everything about everyone else and often wants or expects something from everyone else (often because no one has very much…)

I have really enjoyed being immersed such a captivating linguistic environment, and am really going to miss it…I am sure that when I come back I am going to be surprised by something and let out a swooping ah-WO! and everyone is going to look at me like I am a martian…

16 Avril – Assemblés Générales and Solar Systems

2008-04-17T05:25:00.000-07:00

So since I haven’t written a blog in a while this is seriously long…Mom, I know you’re the only one who will make it to the bottom, haha, but thanks to all who are still checking in here! I love sharing all of this with you and I hope that one day you’ll get through it.

We are in the midst of the sequence of annual Assemblés Générales. There are 5 scheduled in the next 3 weeks (what luck!) Les Assemblés Générales are the crux of a Microfinance Co-op like FECECAV. They represent the basic and moral principles on which the organization itself is built upon, and are the most significant event in each bureau’s annual calendar. In literature and theory about Microfinance, AG’s and the like are alluded to as almost mythic presentations of the ideology of Microfinance and showcases of the doctrines of the Cooperatif. FECECAV’s organizational structure and credibility as a Social Business relies on the fact that the borrowers themselves are the patrons of the organization. FECECAV belongs to its clients. FECECAV exists because they make it work. The Assemblé Générale is an annual gathering for all of the clients of each FECECAV caisse.

I will now take a moment to comment on FECECAV’s eleven branches – if only on their names, because I think they are so symbolic. Literally. Each caisse is called CECAV (Caisses d’Epargne et de Crédit des Associations Villageoises, Loan and Credit Banks of Village Associations – it makes much more sense in French, but you get the idea) and the “FE” at the beginning of the organization’s formal name, “Faitiére des Entités,” (literally, the maker of entities) is employed to group all of the CECAVs together. Finally, I understand this acronym. But the English version just doesn’t capture it…

Each CECAV is accompanied by a word, in French or Ewe or a mélange of both, that intensely exemplifies the essence of FECECAV’s impact and its mission. Once again, the English translations won’t fully portray it, but here it goes:

• CECAV Avenir (The Future) – Kpalimé
• CECAV Espoir (Hope) – Aventonou
• CECAV Duanenyo (La village/localité ou tout va bien; The town/place where all is good) – Danyi
• CECAV Nevame (Ca soit accompli; It will be accomplished) – Womé
• CECAV Fraternité (Brotherhood) – Lomé
• CECAV Fidelité (Fidelity) – Adéta
• CECAV Solidarité (Solidarity) – Amoussokopé
• CECAV Enyo (C’est bon ; All is good) – Atakpamé
• CECAV Yayra (Bénédiction ; Benediction/Blessing/Approval) – Lomé
• CECAV La Grace (Grace) – Assahoun
• CECAV Abwe (Enyo; C’est bon; All is Good) – Badou

Interestingly, there is a complicated and hidden dynamic underlying the relations between these offices due to the laws surrounding mutuels in Togo. The government set up a system of regulations to govern these institutions, which have multiple branches and offer both loans services and savings accounts. In theory, these regulations work in the interest of protecting clients’ savings. In reality it does not necessarily endorse or enforce these kinds of good practices and instead acts as serious obstacle to efficient intra-organizational collaboration and functionality. Each branch of FECECAV is, by law, an autonomous institution that could at any time choose to separate from the larger structure and become its own institution. Not only does this create a nightmare for centralization of data and other practical concerns, it generates a vacuum of power, complex battles for influence and ambiguous as well as superfluous roles within FECECAV. The very idea of authority becomes convoluted. Each Chef d’Agence (General Manager/Branch President) wields significant clout, as do his clients. Once again a great idea, in theory.

Daniel is the “CEO” (“DG” as they call him, Directeur Général) and should have the ultimate command of all the other branches, if only for efficiency’s sake! In theory, he does, but the national laws restrict his ability to organize and implement. Imagine the CEO of Chase Bank being at the mercy of every General Manager and his flock of account holders and having to compromise with them on every policy and process change…this is one of the big reasons why things take so long here sometimes…and why things get watered down, simplified or simply not done...this is also why each branch works towards its own objectives and targets without much regard for the general, far-reaching strategy of FECECAV as an entity. This is not sustainable…

It also makes Kiva work hard, as it is difficult for Daniel to implement new processes for centralizing data and use of IT systems throughout the FECECAV branches, and importantly, to choose which branches will submit loans to the site. All of the Chefs d’Agence are in a covert battle with each other to receive the next donated camera and the opportunity to post loans on the Kiva site, as the free money obviously improves their numbers. This kind of intra-organizational competition in a Microcredit Bank seems very dangerous to me…

But back to the Assemblé Générales…Daniel explained their essence to me in detail a few weeks ago when he invited me to attend, and asked if I would be willing to speak for 2-3 minutes (I elatedly accepted of course.) The first was last week, in the mountain village of Danyi.

It works like this – FECECAV convokes all of the clients of Danyi’s Bureau, Duanenyo, through word of mouth, personal invitations, radio and press. Daniel explained to me that clients’ attendance at the AG’s is their right, and FECECAV makes every effort to ensure that they are informed. It is not obligatory of course. The purpose of the Assemblé is, in a nutshell, to present the rapports (financial and otherwise) of 2007, to present the workplan for 2008, to have elections for new leaders and to generally celebrate the notion of clients as proprietors and the successes of their thriving microfinance organization. The meeting itself is followed by a lunch, complete with music and dancing, Fufu, Flags and Castels and much revelry.

The elections take place to vote in new presidents. Each caisse has 5 presidents that serve for 3 years. The presidents, clients themselves of course, serve as liaisons between the CECAV staff and the rest of the clients. They are leaders and advocates for the clients and work in tandem between the functions of the bureau and clients’ daily lives in order to implement developments, resolve issues and, by their mere existence, ensure accountability. It is an interesting and fundamentally democratic role – both a patron and a client, elected by both patrons and the clients, to serve both patrons and clients (which all essentially embody the same function, work towards the same goals and are held to the same obligations and regulations – underlined by mutual respect, cooperation and commitment.) The presidents are selected for their performance with their own businesses, conscientiousness and responsibility, and of course their personality. Each president serves for 3 years and elections and terms are staggered so that only 2 presidents can ever leave at the same time, ensuring that knowledge and experience will be left behind, but that there is a constant flow of new blood and invigoration.

Unfortunately, the irony of it all is that these presidents, and their respective boards, are not the most qualified, nor engaged, to be deemed “advisors” or “board members” in any true sense of the word(s)...after spending enough time with the president of the board of CECAV Avenir, I am not convinced that she understands anything beyond the prestige she has gained in her community by having a stamp made with her name on it. It is a shame that it is more symbolic than anything else…because its very existence is essential and the theory behind it is better than almost any organizational structure in the developed world – even more beautiful because it embodies the nature of community that defines this place.

On the morning of the AG, at 6:45am, proudly wearing my pagne, I sleepily walked over to the FECECAV gate, shocking Koffitse with my early arrival (and my outfit) and walking into the front yard expecting to see Daniel, the car and others ready to go. The AG in Danyi was meant to start at 8am, and it is over 50 kilometers away. I therefore assumed we would leave by 7 at the latest…wrong…Louise was the only one ready to go, haha (and this is because she is Daniel’s assistant and has to at least appear punctual) but she knew we wouldn’t leave for at least an hour or so. Others were busily working, as most of the office is here and running by 7am (if there is electricity.)

Daniel sauntered in around 9, a short sleeved olive green suit whose pant legs were a bit too long, and bunched up around his black sandals. We left at 9:30, heading towards Adéta, a drive that has actually become very familiar – through the outskirts of Kpalimé, past men and women and children carrying on their heads everything from books, massive buckets of water and bananas, to palm branches and entire trunks…past the piles of multicolored sheet-rock for sale outside of Lavié, through the village of Lavié itself, the tiny FECECAV caisse winking at us as we pass, Yao blaring the horn to scare goats and half-naked children…past the women under parched palm-leaved roofs with sleeping babies strapped to their backs, distractedly rearranging enamel trays of avocados, soap and batteries…past the open fields of termite castles, burning or newly planted yam fields, perfectly symmetric rows of their characteristic mounds mocking the lack of rain, the mountains rising at their backs…past the arbitrary, peeling signs for decaying primary schools of past decades, tiny fruit stands and mud huts…past the gendarmie and the naughty village boys who set up makeshift road blocks with cord and strips of old, dirty t-shirts, yelling for argent or a ride somewhere (not that I think they know where they want to go, just anywhere but there)…into the dusty and dirty town of Adéta. We continued through Adéta and towards the fields of palm trees that layer the ground at the foot of the mountains. It is quite a striking panorama, looking down the road past CECAV Fidelité at the horizon, dotted with splayed palm and banana leaves, that seems to run smack into the mountains and the road that carves up their side. You can almost feel their fraicheur and lushness from that far away. I hadn’t been up these mountains before, and although they are similar to Kouma, I was exhilarated by a new place, foliage of a deeper green (which might be simply a result of more rain) and soil of a different color.

We wound up and around the mountains, overlooking green facades bursting with palm and banana trees (these have not gotten old yet, I still love their exoticness,) patches on every face smoldering as farmers prepared the land for planting. Thick ribbons of smoke, the deep and murky kind produced by the burning of green leaves and undergrowth, rose from each valley and summit like distress signals. The villages at the top of the mountain were cool and clean, freshly swept yards and streets of damp, red dirt – much different even from Kpalimé and the villages at the base of the mountains with their dusty power and discarded plastic littering every quartier.

After a quick stop at the FECECAV office we went to meet the préfet (the mayor) of Danyi, who would be speaking at the AG and to whom customary greeting and kow-towing must be made. We arrived at his compound at the top of a hill overlooking Danyi and waited while a few proud gendarmie prepared him to receive us (which was really a presentation of his ability to hold us at bay while another went to see if he was interested in gracing us with his presence.) We filed into his office amidst a flurry of Monsieur-Directeurs, Grand Mercis and finger snapping. I was introduced, the prefet was thanked for “hosting” the AG and within 3 minutes we were ushered back out to Yao, waiting in the vehicule.

The Assemblé itself was held at a beautiful mansion that looked like an old missionary compound, covered in bright red and fuchsia bougainvillea climbing trellises, framed by enormous, ancient palm trees. It must have been built by European colonists because it was very old and built almost entirely of stone, not the typical, indigenous materials. Around 50 motos were parked outside, lined up like rows of schoolchildren. A shaded cobblestone path, semi-covered in moss and weeds (a testament to the wetter environment up here on the mountain) led back to a crumbling statue of the virgin mary and an dilapidated gazebo. The Agents de Credit and others from the Danyi office were thrilled to see me, as I am now becoming familiar and friendly with more and more of FECECAV’s extended staff. This absolutely warms my heart :)

There were far more men than women in the crowd of about 200 people that filled the meeting hall (this didn’t really shock me, considering that most of the women were most likely running their small businesses, taking care of their children and couldn’t afford to take the afternoon off.) Ivorian music crackled out of some busted speakers placed next to the door and we shook hands with several CECAV-Duanenyo staff members lined up in a sort of receiving-line as we entered the hall. The front row of the audience was occupied by the traditional village chiefs, dressed in the customary pagnes and boubous, slouching in plastic chairs and leather sandals while fiddling with their cellphones – that paradox almost made me laugh out loud. These chiefs, although quintessentially archaic in their symbolic role, still maintain a high level of prestige and authority in Togolese towns and villages. They are heavily involved in issues of justice and claim to, alongside the préfet, uphold the moral statutes of law and order.

The entire first part of the AG was “Welcoming Remarks,” fairly typical of these African directeurs and ceremonies (I have come to expect this now, as well as the 3 hour late start.) After the president of the Danyi caisse and Daniel, who discussed grandly the importance of each CECAV as a part of FECECAV, FECECAV’s part in the Togolese national strategy for Microfinance as well as its stark contrast from state programs (“FECECAV n’est pas comme la poste! Les profts sont pour vous!) and encouraged Danyi’s clients to keep up their good work. Each speech was recorded on an antique cassette player, held one inch from their mouths by a tired-looking woman standing next to them. (NB: As an ex-Event Coordinator, I was continually distracted by my comparisons of the A/V capacities of this, the largest annual meeting for CECAV-Duanenyo, and IPA’s exorbitantly expensive “Expert Consultations” and “Roundtable Discussions” at the Greentree Estate every other month. At first I couldn’t decide whether to be utterly disgusted or to laugh – I quickly settled on the former.)

I made my “speech” next. I had prepared it and practiced the night before for Athanase. Its main purpose was to provide motivation as a representative of a partner organization, to explain Kiva in a (very) simplified manner and to end on a note of hope and enthusiasm. I obviously did not have a hard time with the enthusiasm bit and, since I am not shy haha, had no problem getting up there and engaging with my audience. I was introduced by the Chef d’Agence of Danyi who, as usual, took the opportunity to poke fun at the Kiva-Kira coincidence – everyone gets such a kick out of it. With the tape recorder just beyond my lips I smiled and began.

“Je suis une représentante d’une ONG Américaine, Kiva, qui mobilise les fonds sur un site internet pour les organisations de microfinance comme FECECAV. J’étais déjà ici depuis un mois et demi pour supporter le travail sur le site et de voir l’impact de FECECAV, et la microfinance, sur le terrain J’ai eu l’opportunité de travailler à Kpalimé avec CECAV-Avenir, et j’ai visité aussi beaucoup d’autres bureaux. Je suis très contente d’être ici à Danyi aujourd’hui.

Depuis le commencement de l’association avec Kiva en Décembre, plus de 150 clients de FECECAV ont reçu un totale d’environ 50,000,000CFA de l’ONG Kiva. Tous l’argent était envoyer au taux zéro. Ce numéro va augmenter, et chaque caisse va avoir la chance de bénéficier des fonds. Ces fonds viennent des préteurs Américaines (et Canadiennes) qui veulent vous aider à changer votre vie. Ils vous donnent les moyens à le faire vous-mêmes. Voilà l’impact de la microfinance – c’est à vous! Avec Kiva, FECECAV a commencé à développer les rapports partout le monde. L’importance des partenaires globales ne peut pas être sous-estimée, et je vois le rapport avec Kiva comme un commencement de quelque chose beaucoup plus grand.

Chaque fois que je fais une visite à une nouvelle branche de FECECAV je suis toujours impressionnée par l’importance de votre travail, vos accomplissements, et la diligence des employés et clients. C’est vous, les clients engagés de FECECAV, qui créent le destin de cette organisation incroyable, et il faut être fier! Je vous souhaite du courage, de continuer votre bon travail, et de continuer à achever les vrais buts de la microfinance. Vous m’avez tellement inspiré, et j’espère que vous allez continuer avec l’optimisme que je vois en tout le monde ici. Merci pour l’opportunité de travailler avec vous, et pour voir comment vous décidez votre futur et réalisez votre rêves."

Daniel was beaming and told me I should be a politician, laughing at the hilarity of his sarcasm. My speech was followed by a translation in Ewe, where I understood only two words, Kiva and Kira (once again, the joke, and the audience laughing,) the clients seemed to get the true essence of my words and nodded, smiled and clucked in satisfaction.

After a lunch of Ablo and spicy tomato/mystery meat sauce with the Chiefs and other “officiels” and a personal gift of a bag of pineapples from the Chef d’Agence of the Danyi caisse (why don’t I like pineapples, I don’t understand…but it’s ok, Mensah used them for the FECECAV party on the weekend,) we made the winding trek back down the mountains, past the termite mansions and through a massive rain storm back home to Kpalimé. That night was characterized by something that can be called nothing other than an invasion, of termite-like bugs with double the number of wings…

* * *

For the rest of my time with FECECAV (which will now be until the end of May, when my visa expires and I run out of malaria meds) I am going to finish the Kiva Manual and follow up on the IT processes that were elaborated on and organized during Carol’s visit (see the upcoming blog for more on that one) but mostly work on the preparations for the solar project and anything else they need around the office. This is actually quite liberating and kind of what I felt I wanted to be doing here all along…but as far as the solar thing goes, it is almost maniacally inspiring…can this really be so huge as to change the direction of my life? Will the next 5 years of my life work towards developing an NGO of my own – sprung from my Dad’s knowledge, guidance and expertise, catering to my apparent lack of ability or interest in committing myself to others’ organizations enough to actually work for them? Allowing me to criticize as much as I want, continually improve and do something that satisfies my desire to do something that WORKS? Can it be? Once again (Koffitse has told me that this is “my phrase”) on verra.

I helped Olivier write a CV in English and am going to do the same for Athanase. I can just be here, as myself, helping my friends and colleagues as they want me to help them. No ulterior motives (wherever these come from anyway, certainly not my own mind…) no aggressive supervisors with mysterious intentions and corporate mentalities, no miscommunication and moral wish-wash. Just me, taking each day as it comes while working towards a grand vision of something stimulating and REAL – which is apparent to everyone here and to myself. I can live with that.

When it comes to the solar project, it is something tangible (like a zero-percent interest loan, in theory) and effective, without predetermined expectations or intrusions of ideas of development, work ethic or morality – not that we will develop a foreign policy like China or anything, there are certain limitations and finding out what this means will require a dangerous and moral balancing act on a thin, vague line of integrity and common sense. I foresee this as one of my biggest challenges, one whose concept is not even entirely worked out in my head quite yet…These PV systems will power existing enterprises (businesses with social missions of course, most likely Microfinance Institutions, because we will have to narrow it down for many reasons) without any significant compromises – yet.

I am sure we will come across compromises, as I have with Kiva, but these will have to be ironed out in a careful and thorough manner (which, in my opinion, is one of Kiva’s biggest weaknesses and they have instead accepted the costs with the benefits.) The give and take will be a challenge and I am sure that certain concessions will indeed be required in order to succeed. However, this to me does not mean necessarily “finding a middle ground.” We can do better than that! Acceptance of costs in exchange for benefits that can in any way, shape or form be seen to equalize each other (or even come close, which would be straying too far from the initial goal of pure, uncontaminated assistance) is just unacceptable. Not good enough. Why bother if this will be the case? This is why I am going to have to do it myself, and I am so ready.

Daniel has started to realize that I’m not joking about all of this, that I’m not some empty-promising yovo who is going to split without finishing what I start. He is so happy, so encouraged and gets a far off look in his eyes and cries that Ewe “ooo ooo ooo ooo ooo” every time he realizes what some solar panels on the roof of CECAV Avenir would actually mean…he told me that I am “un cadeau qui dieu a donné au FECECAV,” which from him is a magnanimous compliment. He is behind me 100%, different than his support for me being a Kiva fellow (which was equally jubilant, just different) because he senses something in me. That I want to do this on my own accord, and I have a love for everyone here and the essence of this place that is sincere, that I have something inside of me that is special and real and has been waiting to emerge, and that I may have found it.

So in terms of actually making it happen and then making it sustainable…

As I have been thinking and writing and thinking and talking to people and writing and thinking some more about this project, I have come to realize that there is really no way we can do it as a completely private venture without a real consultative and collaborative relationship with someone/some department fairly high up in the Togolese government. Although I do want to keep this a “local affair” and try not to get caught up in the bureaucratic nonsense of cabinet ministers and the tightly wound policies on privatization and natural resource management, I see a degree of cooperation as semi-unavoidable if we are going to do this right. I hope we are not going to open up a can of worms that will be far more than we bargained for…

I came up with the idea of channeling our project through the National Strategy for Microfinance. This is a highly developed program here in Togo and many of their goals and social missions for MFIs, are centered around an IT strategy. I am hoping that if we can convince them that the introduction of a Solar Energy program (our project being the start) will in turn help them to achieve their goals of the proposed informatisation of rural MFIs. I have done some research on this already and have run it by a few of my colleagues, who all think that this is the best way to get the project off the ground.

Now I anxiously anticipate my Dad’s arrival, to evaluate the technical aspects of the system in terms of size and usage, the installation itself and other such details. I cannot wait to see his reactions to this place, the project seen in real time and space and to get started.

Enough ramblings and rêves for today…they’re about to cut the current anyway because the wind is blowing fiercely and we’re about to see another serious storm…so you’re free :)

Myea dogo –
K

1 April – Snapshot

2008-04-03T11:31:00.000-07:00

It is pretty much impossible to sleep in here…

Every morning at 6am on the dot, I am pulled from my sleep by the scrape-scrape-scrape-scrape of the night guard sweeping the front yard of petit suisse…his broom is a bundle of reeds tied together, and he is sweeping mango leaves, dead termites and dirt off of the stones and into a pile to be burned later in the day. This sound has become the staple annoyance of my day (heard all over Kpalimé at all hours, in fact) to the point that I roll over and laugh now when I hear it interrupting my haze of dream-sleep. Some days I silently curse him in my drowsy stupor, then start laughing to myself again and put on my headphones to try to drown it out for one more hour of sleep. Doesn’t usually work. By that time, Kpalimé is awake and my desire for another few minutes of beauty sleep is of no concern.

Roosters have been crowing for hours, aimlessly wandering the quiet morning streets pecking at the dirt, hoping for a kernel. Babies and small children are hungry and crying in every corner of the quartier, or strapped on their mothers backs with a colorful pagne, dozing off again as these patient women set up their stands on the side of the road for another day of miniscule potential profit. If it is a weekend, boisterous soccer teams parade by chanting, singing and drumming in Ewe. Carpenters hammer and saw, installing a new door here and a shutter there, improvement is a constant, yet ironically stagnant process here. Nothing is still in the morning, as this is the coolest time of day, and the most comfortable time to be moving around, before the sun is at its height.

After my cold shower, which is actually quite refreshing, where I wash my hair with a bar of soap (I ran out of shampoo quickly, not realizing I wouldn’t be able to buy more…) I open my room to air it out during the day when there aren’t as many mosquitoes. Then I struggle with the stubborn lock on my door and step out into the balmy humidity of the hallway. I wander down to have my breakfast. Waiting on the nearest table is always a glass, a cup and saucer and a fork with a napkin folded in it – some days it is a fan, sometimes a butterfly, sometimes a rose. Kossi and Felize, the apprentices, find it amusing to change it daily. I have the same thing for breakfast every day – scrambled eggs with onions and a sliced roll, which is (sometimes) fresh from one of the vendors just outside the gate. I drink Nescafe without milk, as it is always warm and halfway curdled, with 2 sugar cubes. While I haven’t gotten sick of this routine yet, every once in a while I can’t finish the coffee because it’s just not good, haha, and I miss the dark roast of a Manhattan morning Starbucks…

Soon I look at my cellphone for the time, bid goodbye to Mensah, Felize and Kossi (Akpene is usually au service – at work) and head out the gate for the short walk to the FECECAV office. The distance between the gate of Petit Suisse and the gate of FECECAV is about 20 feet, but it takes me a good 5-7 minutes to get there because of all the stops and greetings I make along the way. It is a cheerful and energizing commute, with all of these morning people. Much better than the F train or the Schuylkill expressway, that’s for damned sure...

First I pass the boutique that belongs to Daniel’s wife. She sells an assortment of essential items, from bagged water and Togocell cards to onion, tomatoes and canned goods, to the occasional boubou and nail polish, depending on what she’s picked up in Lomé this month. I never know who will be manning the shop, as it changes throughout the day. In the morning it is usually grand-mére, as Grace and Jesu are at school and Maman is au marché. She is, as always, munching on her dentille (the sticks that Africans use to clean their teeth, which are sold in lieu of toothbrushes.) She waves and smiles, muttering in a mixture of Ewe, French and Kabyé. Kabyé is the language spoken in the North, which is where Daniel is from and is grand-mére’s native language. She and I generally communicate through this mélange of languages, taking cues from each other’s body language and the handful words that we commonly understand in all three languages. Note that Grace and Jesu, both under age 10, speak all three…

As I pass, the mechanics across the street, lazing about on tires and/or fixing a busted moto, hiss at me and I wave and pretend not to be annoyed. I keep walking. Soon I pass Koffise (pronounced KofitCHO,) my friend who sells l’essence et l’huile (gas and motor oil) just outside FECECAV’s gate. Koffise is stunningly handsome, tall and very thin, with bottomless brown eyes and dimpled creases that emanate from his smile in rows of concentric circles. He has uneven tribal scars cut into his high cheekbones and often wears black eyeliner under his eyes, drawing even more attention to their mischievous glimmer. Thus far I have seen him every day in the same red courdouroys, slightly stained with dark oil but surprisingly clean, and red plastic sandals. He alternates between a filthy white sleeveless shirt and a striped one, showing off his muscled biceps – despite their small circumference, they exude strength and look as though they have been chiseled to perfection. He wears his cellulaire around his neck in a black pouch. Every week, Koffise fills plastic buckets with gas and motor oil at the Texaco station in town, transfers it to old liquor bottles and re-sells it to moto drivers. He also does ad-hoc mechanical work for some of his customers and FECECAV employees, due to his convenient location. Every time I enter or leave FECECAV Koffise is there smiling and chatting through the perfectly spaced gaps in his teeth, either pouring l’essence into a moto’s tank with a funnel or sprawling his lanky appendages over his moto or the grappling roots of the huge tree that shade his stand.

As I reach the concrete ramp that leads through FECECAV’s huge metal gate, I meet the collectrices and random FECECAV staff milling about outside. Motos roll and sputter in and out of the gate and we all greet each other with the customary and now habitual West African finger-snap handshake and a series of Bonjour!s, Tu as bien dormi?s, and Comment?s This is their equivalent of the morning dawdling around the coffee machine or the water cooler, yet everywhere always seems happy to see each other and not dreading the workday ahead. It is, as Innocent showed me, a combination of truly liking their microfinance job and a relieved complacency at having a job at all.

As I enter the gate, I greet the guards with snaps and smiles, and wave at the collectrices sitting and eating la pâte for breakfast (complete with raw onions and fish sauce, which I can barely digest at lunch or dinner) under the tin-roofed garage (where le vehicule, as Daniel calls it, that the Swiss NGO donated to FECECAV, is parked.) If Yao is not washing le vehicule, even if it is not dirty, he is leaning on it, draping his gangly extremities across its front grate or open driver’s side door, waiting for instruction. He is deliciously dark-skinned, slim and giant, and always calls out a high-pitched “kiRA!” to which I respond, “yaO!” and he laughs. He was the one who picked me up at the airport in Lomé, my first glimpse of FECECAV, and although he speaks very limited French, we are good friends and I have a particular fondness for him.

FECECAV’s driveway and front yard is always a flurry of activity. Shaking hands and snapping with the customary and ostentatious greetings of African businessmen “Ah, Directeur!” “Gérant, Comment?” and “Bonjour Chef!” Certain characters always refer to each other as Mr. Director, Monsieur Manager, Sir the Chief, etc. I have found this very interesting, as there are only certain circles of either political, intellectual or business men (yes, men) that address each other this way. Sometimes they appear as tragicomic caricatures of themselves, sweating in the African sunshine in sandals and linen suits, imitating some grandiose professional tradition that can seems markedly out of place.

After this routine, I head in to see Athanase. Now that I think on it, I cannot remember the first day I decided to sit in his office, only that it came naturally I have shared his desk, fan, plugstrip and comfortable company ever since. Athanase, I have mentioned him before, is the diligent comptable (accountant) here at FECECAV, and probably the person I spend the most time with (besides Akpene and Mensah) in Kpalimé. The first night I bought a few beers for the FECECAV crew, Mako (a gregarious collectrice who is based in Lomé, but we get along well and speak on the phone often) told me that he was timide and that I would have to chat him up. Athanase smiled calmly, and deliberately opposed her. This reaction was a microcosm is his good-natured personality. He is quiet, unassuming and respectful, and, after spending a bit of time with him, opens up to reveal a witty and companionable character.

I sit on the left side of his desk, always resting my feet on the half-open bottom drawer. His door faces the front yard, and we can conveniently spy on everyone who enters or leaves the compound. I have transferred almost half of the music I brought with me onto his computer, because he only likes the pop and hip hop, and I’ve taken some of his favorite African and French R&B. He is solely responsible for all of the accounting for the Kpalimé office and for centralizing the data from all 11 branches. This includes everything from salaries, invoices, financial reporting, and g-d knows what else…it appears to me that everything besides la caisse and has to do with money goes through Athanase. Meticulous and conscientious, he comes to work early, leaves late and is to Comptable as Rogier is to Agent de Crédit. Unfortunately, he dosen’t seem to get the credit he deserves, and for some reason, Daniel chose Athanase to be one of those responbile for Kiva work as well…perhaps it is a tribute to his competence that he manages to get all of this done and is still selected as the one to write business descriptions for the Kiva site, but he does seem to work a lot harder than his gérant. I suppose this is also indicative of the nature of any workplace, haha.

He and I share a lot of comfortable silence, which is something I value in life, as sitting quietly is not one of my strong points…he works in his spreadsheets and in Quickbooks, I on my laptop creating working documents for use with Kiva and writing new business descriptions. Since I “finished” training people in those first few weeks, I have now focused on a) doing a lot of the work myself while I am here b) creating a helpful User Manual in French to leave here – Kiva did provide a manual for use of the site, but it is not entirely relevant and often superfluous in meeting the actual needs here at FECECAV. Since I have done the training and now know the organization very well, I am making one of my own. I am calling it Kiva à la Kira (everyone has thought this is incredibly amusing, by the way.)

When doing Kiva work (which I try to limit with him, as he is already so busy and understands it better than anyone) Athanase and I transfer documents back and forth on my USB key and the identical one that I brought here as a gift, which he always seems to have in his breast pocket. I had to mark mine with a whiteout K after a few days of mixing them up. He patiently helps me to edit my written French and I run documents and copies back and forth to other staff when he is swamped. We listen to the music all day long.

To be continued…

30 Mars - Kpalimé Nights

2008-04-03T11:17:00.000-07:00

I have been having trouble sleeping lately. Sleep is never a problem for me, I usually drift off before I even remember to set my alarm clock for the net morning, pop up 5 minutes later to set it, then fall dead asleep again in seconds. I distinctly remember periods in my life when I haven’t been able to sleep, and they have always been surrounded by some degree of anxiety, ranging from mild to severe…this time I am not anxious, and trust me, I know the difference. My recent restlessness on the brink of sleep is caused by something less daunting, just a fretful mental disquiet, interestingly, just at my one month mark in Togo.

I have been here long enough now not to be considered a tourist (which is actually an obstacle I am proud to say I have mounted with significant ease and success, and all of my friends here concur that I am not like most other blanches that find themselves in Kpalimé – which means more to me than I can even explain) but not long enough to even begin to claim that I know the ins and outs of Togolese culture and society, the truths of relations between men and women, parents and children, yovos and ameyibos…but I have begun to notice that I have different set of eyes than I did when I first got here, and I have had them WIDE OPEN. Subconsciously, I have developed a new way of observing, a more broadly perceptive – critical, judicious, yet still idealistic and curious – way of viewing things that before were just absorbed in a sort of sensory overload.

What has been troubling me, I think, is that without me knowing it, a certain process of learning to question these observations is taking place. I will never abandon idealism, couldn’t if I tried, and wouldn’t if you forced me, but I cannot deny that I am starting to contemplate an underbelly of the situations, people, colors, smells and structures (in all senses of the word) I experience every day and have experienced since I stepped off the plane in Accra.

I have also been reading this book that I borrowed from the Peace Corps volunteers in Kpalimé, by an ex-volunteer named George Packer. His book is called The Village of Waiting and it takes place in a tiny village called Lavié, which is about a 40minute drive from Kpalimé. The situations and cultural references are all too familiar, and I have enjoyed relating to them, but his cynicism is startling. Note that he served and wrote his book in the1980s, when independence was not even new enough to be considered history and the cult of personality of Eyadema presided over Togo. Today the national holidays surrounding Eyadema’s “divine” victories, economic “liberation” and “national animation” are no longer celebrated, however, the way certain passages in the book remain entirely true and numerous episodes are accurate to the point that they happened to me yesterday, is a bit of a bizarre experience…

Cynicism about Africa has its value, and I appreciate that fact even more after having seen the real poverty and development predicaments here and their cyclical, stagnant nature…but haven’t I found Togo and its people the most hospitable, wonderful, smiling and beautiful that I have come across in my lifetime? How can these two things live in such close quarters? And how do I fit in the middle, as they have clearly become one in this tiny sliver of land and I appear to be simply, temporarily juxtaposed upon it?

One passage in particular gave me chills. He wrote, “A century of promise and exploitation, the treaties and forced labor of early colonialism, the long, slow submergence that led to independence, the new promise of development and the new whites that came to help, the disillusionment of even the best-intentioned, continued domincance of the economy by foreigners, continued poverty – all of this, and the white was still welcomed, still admired.” This is the uncomfortable feeling I get when Daniel’s wife won’t let me help her clean up the dinner table, when Akpene’s brothers offer me gifts, when Yao drives me into town to go to the bank because it is just too hot – when I know damned well anyone else in the office would have to walk there themselves. I am the yovo, and while it is genuinely good-natured and it is one of my favorite things about this place, the sheer attention I get because I am a white girl is pretty disturbing when you think about it. And I have really started to think about it.

Innocent, one of my friends at FECECAV, is a soft-spoken 22 year old from the North of the country with 2 years of his degree from Univeristy of Lomé under his belt but, as he explained matter-of-factly, “When a job, let alone an office job, turns up, you just take it.” The other day he showed me some Ghanaian rap music videos, which he really likes, on his computer. It was a slow Saturday, as only half the office comes in on Saturdays (like the banks here, la caisse and all those who work directly with it and with the clients – the collectrices, the cashiers, the agents de crédit, etc.work on a Tuesday – Saturday schedule) and we were sitting in his office, sharing his chair to see the monitor and so that we could both sit directly in front of the fan. I was captivated by these African rappers...I’ve seen a lot of African music videos since I’ve been here – as they are the only TV channels that occasionally come in besides France24 – but mostly hip-hop from Togo, Benin and Ivory Coast, a sentimental genre called zouk. The videos themselves are incredibly low-budget, boast mediocre camerawork and 80’s style backdrops, and feature full-screen shots of large, African buttocks shaking and gyrating. They incorporate the West African dance and style, including the large and sensual women that naturally accompany its music. The Ghanaian rap videos were different. They had names like Le Distroyer, not quite English, not quite French – Inno had to ask me what it meant, because “destroyer” is an English word, in French, “to destroy” is detruire. The rappers were all wearing oversized G-Unit and 50Cent t-shirts, driving 2000 model Honda civics (I have never seen a make newer than 1985 here, let alone a Honda,) wearing baggy, low-riding, American-style shorts (I have also NEVER seen an African man in jean shorts, and guarantee I never will,) and dancing with both African women and white women, all of whom were stick thin. Fascinating. If I were still at McGill I would go to one of my cultural studies professors and profess the topic for my next term paper, would analyze the hell out of it. Idolization of the black-American – definitely not a yovo, but definitely not a real ameyibo either. So what is he? And what the hell is he doing in a Ghanaian music video?

After a few videos they all started to look the same and I decided I had had enough. Innocent asked if I could send him a Dolce & Gabana belt from New York, like the ones the rappers wore. I told him it was trop cher, but would get him a fake one on Canal street.

But I disgress…

There are other things I have started to notice. I love the kids here, which is something that I’m sure will surprise most of you. They aren’t brats. They work harder than most of us will in our lives, physically and otherwise, and don’t complain about it. And they are obsessed with me. In my first two weeks in Kpalimé I can categorically say that my two best friends were an 11 year old and a 8 year old, Grace and Jesu. Not only did they love the American chewing gum I gave them, they were at first shocked and then elated by the way I interacted with them…I played a game of edito with them, bought them a lollypop, ruffled their hair, gave them a high-five…all foreign exchanges between adults and children here for the most part.

The parent-child relationship that I have experienced here is one of mutual dependence and a high level of distance – either in kilometers or emotionally, or both. Children work in their parents’ stores from the time they can count francs, carry boxes or just make sure no one steals the avocados off the tray. While Maman or Papa is off at the marché or working in the field so that everyone can eat tonight, who do you think is watching the store and the younger siblings? The kids. Reciprocity out of necessity. The survival thing again. This however, for better or worse (and I am really not sure which way I lean on this one) leaves little time for the kind of coddling and fussing that is so characteristic of Western parenting and replaces it with healthy obedience, discipline and respect. It’s not that African parents don’t love their children, of course they do, and that is apparent as well, it’s just that the circumstances and tribulations of daily life render their relationship much less indulgent. This explains the childrens’ terrified glances at their mother or father before busting into euphoric giggles every time squat down to their height, grin and say Wofo? (Pronounced, Wefowa, meaning how are you, in Ewe) Jesu, every time I allow him to take a picture with my camera, looks at Daniel almost shaking in fear (or at his grandmother, who is quite the menacing authority figure, good thing she is not that strong…I saw her hitting him one of the first nights I was here, shrilling about something in Ewe. I couldn’t decide whether to start crying myself or to intervene, but clearly I just waited quietly until she was done and saw that Jesu was fine. Five year old boys can be naughty, but it was more likely he forgot to carry a bucket of water twice his weight over to the stall for her shower.)

Mensah’s kids (he has 5 children with 2 different women, neither of which are Akpene…but here this is not frowned upon, nor indicative of any negative character traits, nor unusual, so please bear that in mind before you judge my Togolese father J) are the same way. They were petrified when I asked if I could play edito with them, as they had been sitting alone in the entry of the hotel for hours. At first I was upset that Mensah wouldn’t spend time with his children when they were there for the day, and still am to a certain point, but he was resting because he wasn’t feeling well. If he didn’t rest he couldn’t work, and if he couldn’t work he couldn’t give money to the kids’ mother to feed them that night.

This brings me to another point. Mensah hasn’t been looking so good lately…he has mentioned often that he doesn’t feel right, gesturing towards his chest/heart/lung area with a pained expression. And when an African says “Ça ne va pas” you know it’s not just indigestion. This has been going on for almost two weeks, despite my pressuring him to go to the doctor. I, on the other hand, had an infection and was rushed to the clinic in hours, treated and released in the same day. Mensah needs some tests done and he can’t afford it, even though it will cost less than $50, so I have offered to pay for them. He is going to see the doctor on Tuesday. In the meantime, he went to another doctor because he was in pain, who prescribed some medication that will act as an expensive and truly ineffective band-aid until he can have a consultation to figure out what is actually wrong with him. Then I will probably have to give him somemore money to buy the medication he actually needs. This is the tragic story of third world health care systems, a whole different crisis that I am honestly too afraid to delve into right now.

How many children die this way every day, or are crying in the morning because they have dysentery, malaria or tuberculosis and their parents can’t afford to take them to the doctor? Sure, this is the world’s health crisis and I’m not revealing some shocking discovery thus far kept secret, but it is one thing to hear about it, realize it, and understand it but quite another to see its penetrating and devastating reality.

And now, at my halfway point, I have started to think already that my impact on this place will be so small. Not insignificant – I think that I have done some great things that will change the way FECECAV uses Kiva and will hopefully bring them more free money, more easily – but miniscule.

I, like every other volunteer, doctor, NGO worker, missionary, peacekeeper, all of us with our mosquito nets, foreign passports and optimism without borders, will leave. I will leave because I was not born here. I will go home because I am fortunate to have a one – with a family that loves me too much and far too many pets, and they are all in Philadelphia. I will leave because I am comfortable and loved there, permanently. Is it not human nature to seek this?

But the thought of leaving this place and these people is already breaking my heart and turning my stomach.

What is a sacrifice anyway? Is it staying here forever, in isolated dread of the sheer knowledge that I will never see NYC again, in loneliness for my family, but knowing that I have made the ultimate submission and dedication to the people who were born here? Is it marrying a Togolese friend so that he can get an exit visa, because he needs to make more money in the US to support his aging parents, although the complications and implications might be more than either party bargained for? Does the intention of a sacrifice have to make one so miserably torn, in order to deem itself a sacrifice? Why does it even require two separate parties, crawling towards the same, unattainable goal…

I think that I am lucky, that so far I have been able to observe and submit to the discouraging truth of this place, yet maintain an adoration and exhilaration for it and from it. A friend who is thinking of visiting me wanted to know, when I mentioned that everyone is really poor, “Yea, is it depressing?” I didn’t even hesitate when I burst out with an emphatic no.