For those of you who don’t know, this week is my spring break. Bekah, Jamie and I decided to visit Togo and Benin, neighboring West African countries. They are close and semi-easy to get through with the proper visas etc, so we went for it. When we got to Lome, the capital of Togo, we were immersed into a French speaking, motorcycle riding, Atlantic Ocean coastline beach fantasy. I am not exaggerating. We knew of two things that we wanted to do in Lome: see the Voodoo Fetish Market and to ride motorcycles. And that, we did.

Mom, dad, other loved ones who are cringing at the thought of me zooming through a Francophone African Country on the back of a beat up motorcycle, I get it. I just want you all to know that it was worth every amount of risk I took to get on that bike- I have never felt such a thrill or a natural high. As I held on for my life and felt the warm African sun giving me the most absurd tan lines, I turned my head to see one of the most peaceful and beautiful sights I have ever seen. That moment was the awakening I needed. It was one of those moments that make an experience like this finally make sense. I don’t know if I can explain to you in words what I felt, but it was a mixture of pure joy, ridiculous excitement, epitome and extreme emotion. I felt clarity and understanding that pretty much affirmed every decision I had made to get myself to this study abroad experience.

But you know what the funny part is? It is just the way that the Togolese travel. They hop on the back of a motorcycle. It’s just crazy to think about how thrilling and exciting it was for me, and how normal it is for them. I guess it’s just another one of those cultural things…

We visited a market and a Voodoo village where all of a sudden I realized how real Voodoo is. The village we visited was covered with Fetishes which really look like orange piles of mud with faces and private parts. They are funny at first, but it is so interesting when I thought about and realized how prevalent it is as a belief system to the Togolese and Beninese. We visited the Voodoo chief who was making horse hair spirit warding bracelets to one of the village people. He offered us Voodoo rum which was highlighter yellow and had been made in ginger root, tree bark and other things that they didn’t know the English words for. I drank it, thinking to myself- “when in Benin”. They also offered us some grey powder to eat. I only dipped my finger because I was pretty sure that it was made out of ground monkey skull, elephant hip and chameleon tail or something like that. I can’t believe I tried it. It didn’t taste like anything. It is supposed to ward off bad spirits but I am still unclear as to how I know it is working. I guess I just have to let the Voodoo do it’s job.

At the market we had some Voodoo spells put on us, which required some kneeling and chanting and obviously a fee. I walked out with a necklace that brings good luck and is made out of two shells. It is basically a tiny leather pouch filled with 44 herbs that are all supposed to mean something. I also got this brown mini stick turd looking thing that if I do a certain spell on before I invite a male over, he will love me. Also, who knows if they are real. I just kind of like the idea of all of it and the appreciation all of the people had for the tradition and sanctity of Voodoo.

But poor Jamie- my super strict vegetarian friend basically spent too much money walking through a murdered and annihilated animal cemetery.

Dad, I am pretty sure you would have loved it.

These are the people who basically made sure that we got through the borders and to and from countries safely. These people were amazing. We met them by chance and all they wanted to know was that we were safe the entire time. It was so great to be able to know that we had people to call in case of emergency, who knew the language and the people and the customs. They drove us through Ghana, Togo and Benin, for a fee of course, but the rides were comfortable and we had great company and some inside help on how to navigate an African country. Mom, Dad, loved ones, you should be eternally grateful to these people. They literally were our saving graces.

Bekah, Jamie and I were a little nervous about this trip because we honestly had little to nothing planned. Also, we weren’t just in Europe or something- we were in a French speaking African country. Different? A little.

Looking back, I’d say minus a little visa gliche, we were quite successful. I would say that our success came from instating the following things into all of our communication, awareness and activity:

• Positivity Pact- Constantly reminding ourselves that shit shows were going to happen, but regardless it would be hilarious and great and would make for great stories. Proof of success: Geraud the Pheonicia Hotel receptionist who fell in love with me, Jamie’s bad ass motorcycle burn, turning around in Cotonou.
• Honesty Policy- My best friend/ soul mate taught me this. The honesty policy basically means that when someone says it, everyone has to push all other bullshit and fears aside and say what they are thinking. This helps in really stressful moments when you want something but don’t want to hurt/bother the other people. Proof of success: getting home in a bad ass black jeep, choosing hotels, pretty much all decision making at all.

You should try them. They always work if everyone sticks to the rules.