Where everybody knows your name

Our troubles are all the same.

Traveling to Africa usually involves observing things like poverty, food, language, and religion. You constantly compare. We have stuff, they don't. They spend all day outside, we don't. You do this because it's all so different. Returning to the States makes the contrast even sharper. Anyone who leaves poverty for prosperity feels it, but the scariest part for me was time.

Robert Levine, a social psychologist, details this perfectly in his book "A Geography of Time." His research proves the seemingly simple concept that each culture has its own sense of time. More that that, the way you or I perceive time has as much to do with our culture as our religion or our diet. This can show up in big ways like the social punishment for arriving late (we Americans are bloody executioners) or how fast we drive. Or it can show up subtle ways.

Dogon: come for the views, stay for the views

A Peace Corps buddy of mine lived in West Africa for over two years. Shortly before the end of his stint he received training on reintegration into American society. The most striking thing about the training program involved preparing for the underwhelming response of your loved ones to your return. "Prepare a two or three sentence summary of your trip," the trainers advised, "For some of your closest friends and relatives, that's all they'll want to hear." After 28 months abroad, your closest relatives will only want to hear a 60 second summary.

This attitude stands in striking contrast to where my buddy was coming from in West Africa.

If you ever get to Mali, the Dogon Country should be your first destination. You need a guide, and they can be expensive. However, a guide there is worth every penny for two reasons. One: his name might be something unique like Mr. Togo. And two: he'll know everybody.

Dogon greetings are comprehensive partly because time moves slower in the Dogon Country. Remember how an African 2 years had to be distilled into 60 American seconds. Saying hello in Dogon takes 60 seconds by itself.

Mr. Togo, how are you?

Se-om (good)

How's your brother?

Se-om

How's your mother?

Se-om

How's your sister?

Se-om

How's your aunt?

Se-om

How's your wife?

Se-om

How's your chief?

Se-om

How's your boss?

Se-om

What does it say about a culture when greetings take this long? I know it's their custom and the pace of each question was rapid fire, but think how nice it would be if everyone you met cared that much. You'd never get anything done, but maybe that's not the point; I've never seen a more close-knit community.

Maybe we should all spend more time outside.

Curbside Togo (or 5 things I learned walking down the street in Togo)

At first glace, walking down the street in Togo isn't that different from any other third-world nation. You've got livestock. There are a lot of people just chillin. You can get amazing fruit.

But stop and just receive it all, and you come away with some interesting things.

1) The Togolese love Bruce Willis.

I learned that Togolese people literally think Bruce Willis is a superhero. The knock-off video stores are filled with Bruce Willis movies. It's like Plato's Allegory of the Cave: if all you've ever seen of Bruce Willis is him jumping off tall things and killing people you'd think he was a superhero, too. Maybe he is.

2) The Togolese love to ride bikes.

Upon French colonization, motorbikes were introduced instead of cars. Wherever you are in Togo you are just as likely to take a cheap Korean-made moto as you are to take a taxi for transportation. It's cheaper, more fun, and you're more likely to get killed.

3) The Togolese love to ride bikes while listening to songs about riding bikes.

You are now officially up on some serious West African hip-hop. Also, they speak French there. Also, most of their music sounds like this. Also, Togolese people hate French people.

4) You can cook a goat's head.

I don't have a picture, but it's for real. I've seen it.

5) There are few things like FanMilk.

This is more of a relative lesson. If you're like me, you grew up eating sugar and other simple carbs on the average of about 10g an hour. But in Togo (or anywhere in West Africa) going for days, perhaps weeks, without sugar is common. That means, that when my American tastebuds were reunited with sugar in the form of FanMilk, the reaction was an insulin orgasm.

Holla at Fan-man.