Desperate Housewife Part 2

Out of frustration with my predicament and with the person I had become, I confided in a close friend. I not only needed a cure for my “Desperate Housewife Syndrome” but I also needed a listening ear – someone who could feel my pain and perhaps even feel a bit sorry for me. She quickly responded “right, you need a project!” She could not have been more right. She put me in contact with a mutual friend who was running a Bible Camp for kids in Togo and needed some fun activities. I offered to come in and run a jewellery making workshop with them.

On the morning of the class I got my husband to drop me off at the camp. As I entered the room, I saw a large group of children, divided into four teams. Each team had a colour. They did various activities in order to gain points for their teams. It was heaps of fun to watch.

After a while, it was home time for many of the children, but the older girls were invited to stay behind and take part in some jewellery making! I taught them how to use handheld jewellery tools to make earrings. They thoroughly enjoyed the session and made some lovely pieces.

When the class had ended, I was asked to speak to the girls about my journey with God as a young Christian girl, trusting in God and how I ended up meeting my husband. I shared with them my highs, lows and the mistakes I made. I told them that when I trusted in God, He led me down the right path and to the right person for me.

The girls found this very helpful and later that day I received a text to say that the girls really enjoyed the day and they were very inspired. This was very fulfilling for me, but the Bible Camp was only 3 days long, so this was not something that I could do on a regular basis…It was then that it hit me! I already had projects of my own! Regular ones! I was so focused on my husband not being around, that I forgot about all of the things I could have been getting on with!

I had the Purple Touch website to write for. I also had my business; although I was not able to physically run it, I had the extra time to think up and implement new ideas. I was also able to do more email marketing. When I started to focus on these things, I found that this worked to my advantage. I was able to secure many more contracts as a result of my e-marketing and on a recent trip to London I setup my new contracts and got everything up and running!

In addition to this I realised that being a British girl of non-African heritage, living in West Africa for several months was something unique. I was experiencing so many differences in culture that I wanted to document them all. That’s how I started up this blog! This, my business and many other things keep me more than occupied.

A recent trip to London reminded me of just how busy my London life is! I therefore returned to Africa with a different frame of mind. I resolved to enjoy the free time that I have and to use it to think – something that many of us don’t have time to do in London!

Now, thank goodness, I no longer suffer from Desperate Housewife Syndrome! When my husband does go out to work or out with friends, I have plenty of things to get on with. When I do have free time I use it to plan for our future, to talk to God and to evaluate different areas of my life. This has all worked to my benefit and to the benefit of my husband.

I learnt a huge lesson from this. Sometimes we find ourselves in situations that may temporarily handicap us. If we let our emotions overpower us we can quickly become helpless and a burden to others. Our emotions can also cloud our judgement and prevent us from seeing possible solutions to our problems right away. If I had allowed my emotions to completely overtake me, I would have become a very immature, needy wife and a real burden to my husband! Neediness is not cute, nor is it befitting of a 20-something year old woman!

I am glad I had a friend who set me straight – that helped me on the path to using my own common sense to realise that there was a simple solution to my problem! Unfortunately, friends with good advice may not always be available when we need them, so a level head is needed!

We women will always be emotional to some degree, but after the tears (and sometimes, tantrums) we need to focus on finding the root of the problem and what can be done to solve it. If we do this, we will often find that the solution is right under our nose!

Desperate Housewife! Pt 1

My temporary relocation to West Africa was definitely a culture shock! Not just because of the completely different way of life, but because personally I was miles apart from my busy London lifestyle, where I am constantly on the go.

In London I run my own creative business, where I not only coordinate a number of creative services, but I am responsible for securing new contracts and managing a number of employees and sub-contractors. Life can be pretty hectic at times and I often find myself having lunch on the tube, in-between appointments! That aside, I absolutely love spending time with my family and friends and I’m always thinking of new fun things we can do together…

A few weeks after my wedding in Ghana, it was time to get out of holiday mode. The fun and games had come to an end. My family and friends who had travelled to Ghana for my wedding had now gone back to the UK and our honeymoon period was also over. We now had to get back to reality (well, back to my husband’s reality), so we went back to Togo (where my husband lives) and he started working again.

As my husband works for himself, he often spends long hours at his shop, finishing off orders for people. At times he would leave for work late morning and come back at 10 or 11pm. It was during this time that I began to feel quite lonely. My husband had his work to keep him busy during the day, but I no longer had my business to run around for. Although I was still coordinating my UK based business from here, I had friends and relatives in London helping me out and I would often only have to go online to check everything was running smoothly. This meant that within a few hours my “working day” was over. I would then spend time cleaning and doing my household duties, but they only took up a certain amount of time too. By 5pm I would find myself sitting in my room watching French TV, waiting for my husband to come home from work…

On Saturdays, my husband would try to finish work early and we’d spend quality time together in the evenings, but on Sundays after church he often wanted to go out with his friends. When I accompanied him I would feel silly sitting there whilst they all joked in their local language (which I could not understand a word of at the time). However, when I chose not to accompany him I would feel slightly bitter inside that he’d gone out with his friends and left me at home, knowing I had no friends of my own to go out with. It was in these moments that I realised I had changed. I found myself being needy – I had never been like that in my entire life!

I had always prided myself on being a very independent individual. I liked doing things alone and enjoyed my own company, but now here I was feeling lonely and needy. I felt like a desperate housewife and I hated it. I needed to do something to change…

To be continued…

Death and Bereavement in Africa Pt 3

Saturday 16^th June, my husband got up bright and early for the funeral service of his uncle. He had told me not to come as the funeral service started early in the morning and afterwards, they would be taking the body to Togo to be buried and then they would travel back to Ghana. They would spend a total of 6 hours on the road.

I had planned to spend the day chilling out and doing some retail therapy at Accra Mall, but due to my taxi driver letting me down, I had to stay at home. I was thankful in the end – I spent most of the day sleeping. I hadn’t realised how tired I was, especially after the events of the previous day.

At about 9pm my husband arrived home. He told me about the funeral and burial and gave me the programme to take a look at. I read the tributes from his wife, children and nieces and nephews. They were all very sad. My husband said that this day had been particularly sad, because although he had been dead for a while, the burial made everything official. He was really dead. His body was now in the ground and never again would he walk this earth.

Sunday was the third and final part of the funeral. It was called Thanksgiving day. There was a church service, followed by a party at our late uncle’s home. Music was playing and food was being served. A book also went round for those who wished to present a thanksgiving monetary token to the family. Those who wished to contribute wrote their names, the amount they were giving and the family member they wished to give to (whether the children or widow). The money was then placed in a large wooden box and then divided later on.

As the day went on people were all in higher spirits than the previous days and towards the evening everyone gathered in the living room of the house and started singing and dancing to gospel music. Uncle’s oldest daughter started imitating her father’s dance moves – he was quite a mover! That was a bitter sweet moment… As the night went on “light-off” struck, but that didn’t stop the singing and dancing. Someone lit a candle and everybody continued with the songs of praise.

Later on, we all held hands and said a group prayer. My husband and I left shortly after that. As we were on the way home, my husband said to me “I finally realised that my uncle died. All this time it seemed like he had travelled, but now I realise he is gone” I told him that although his uncle had gone and there was nothing anyone could do to bring him back, he left plenty of good memories to be cherished and he also set many good examples to be followed. Uncle was a hardworking and very innovative man. He always had good ideas and was able to make them happen. He encouraged others to go for their dreams and was himself a great achiever. There is so much to be learnt from the good things that he did and also from the mistakes that he made. He will certainly be missed because he made such a difference.

Uncle’s death had certainly been a unique experience for me personally and although it was one that I wish I and all those who loved him did not have to experience, I did learn two main things:

Firstly, we should cherish our loved ones whilst they are with us. We should make the most of our time with them – teaching them, learning from them, making amends with them and more. I say this because when they are gone, we will still miss them dearly, but at least we will not regret the things we did or did not say and do.
 

Secondly, death is inevitable. It’s the sure end for all of us. But, if we live our lives in the way that our Creator wants us to, we can be sure that after death we will certainly live again. When a loved one departs from this earth, we will not see them again in this life, but if they died as true servants and believers of God, then they truly have gone to a much better place and one day, we will surely see them again.

This is the end of my death and bereavement experience, but I leave you with something that I read on the Facebook wall of one of my good friends – I couldn’t agree more with this:

“When you were born, you cried and world rejoiced. Live your life in such a way that when you die the world cries and you rejoice…”

Death and Bereavement in Africa...Pt 2

Week commencing 9^th June 2012…this weekend was the impending funeral of my husband’s uncle. I must admit I was very nervous about the upcoming events. Firstly because it had been almost a month since uncle’s death, so everyone had calmed down and life almost continued as normal for most, but with the funeral and the burial, emotions would be high once again. This would make it real – he really did die. This would be the final goodbye. Secondly, because my husband had given me an idea of how funerals in Africa tend to take place. They run over 3 days – the first day being a Friday, when the body of the deceased is “laid in state” (laid openly in a room at his home). I just didn’t know what that would be like.

So, Thursday came and we were on the way to Ghana. We arrived late afternoon and stopped by at uncle’s house to check that the funeral plans were going okay. The next day we got up early to go back to the house. My husband wore black. I had packed a black dress but it needed ironing. My husband told me to wear my normal clothes and we’d iron the dress when we got to uncle’s house. We arrived to witness many preparations underway. The front of the house was being draped in red and black fabric (those are the funeral colours in Africa) and at the back, meat was being butchered and food was being prepared.

Most people were in their normal attire, but after a short while they started to change into black and red clothing. My husband ironed my dress for me and as I went to the room to change, I realised the top back of the dress was see-through and I needed to wear a vest! I had completely forgotten about that! At the same time, one of the girls happened to be leaving for the market, so I gave her money to buy me a black vest.  It was a few hours before she returned…those hours seemed like years…

As more family members arrived I became increasingly concerned that they may have thought I was being disrespectful. Here everybody was in long, black and red outfits, heads covered and there I was, sitting there in my knee-length white skirt and floral top! I was so embarrassed. I let out a huge sigh of relief when the young lady returned from the market with my vest.

During this time, my husband had gone to the morgue with his cousin to dress the corpse of his uncle and prepare it for being laid in state. Uncle’s daughters and nieces waited at the house, chatting and watching TV. I listened to their conversations and as well as being admirable of how strong they were trying to be I was also touched by what a close family they are. The family is a large one and most of the girls are around the same age, so it’s nice that they have each other for support.

It was late afternoon when my husband phoned me to say that finally everything was ready and that they were on the way. They were actually now 15 minutes away. I asked him if he was okay and told him I’d see him soon. As I hung up I had butterflies in my stomach. The body was coming home. I didn’t know how everyone was going to react but I knew it would not be easy.

Uncle’s daughters had also received word that they were on their way and I saw their faces change. I looked at them and I have to admit my heart sank. It was going to be a very, very sad moment for them. I couldn’t imagine how they were feeling. After about 10 minutes, I could hear the faint sound of a siren and I became nervous. In Africa, they carry the body in an ambulance and sound the siren the entire journey from the morgue to the house. I knew then that they were nearby. The siren became louder and louder, until finally we could hear them coming down the road to the house. By this time there were quite a lot of people at the house and there were chairs and a marquee outside. I sat on a chair not too near to the gate and just waited. As they arrived outside the house, people started to cry and scream. Then uncle’s wife ran out crying. It was a very painful experience and very, very intense. The cries and screams increased and I saw the children crying as my husband and his cousins carried their uncle’s coffin past everyone, into the house.

After a few minutes everything went silent. My husband came to see me, to check that I was okay. I told him I was fine, but at that moment I cried. It was a very sad affair. My husband comforted me. He had surprised me. It was difficult for him to have to dress his uncle’s body and carry his coffin, but he had kept his composure. He even said to me “are you proud of me for being strong?” I was certainly very proud of him.

Shortly afterwards, the body was available to view. It had been placed in a room at the front of the house, which was normally the living room. The room had been beautifully decorated and specially prepared for the body to be laid in there. There were flowers and framed pictures of uncle at different stages of his life. One of uncle’s daughters refused to go in and view the body of her father, but later I had seen she had written on Facebook something to the affect of “daddy is home now, but he is not moving…he is dead” That was heart-wrenching. It was now becoming real – never again would they talk to their father, they would never dance with him again, never laugh with him. Not in this life anyway.

Later that evening, another uncle who is a pastor held a short service for close family members. The service took place in the living room, around the body. My husband asked me to attend. It was conducted in Ewe (the African language of Togo) but my husband translated. Afterwards, some family members and friends left, but many stayed until the early hours of the morning. At about 5am, my husband took me home and then got ready to return to the house for the second day of the funeral. I didn’t attend as they would be travelling from Ghana to Togo for the burial and my husband thought it would be too much for me…

To be continued…

Death & Bereavement in Africa...Pt 1

We were less than 4 weeks into married life…it was a Monday night and we had just come back from my husband’s shop. We were chilling at home, watching TV when my husband received a phone call. His uncle had been very ill over the weekend and was now in hospital. My husband went into a panic over needing someone’s phone number and when he realised he had left his blackberry at the shop he went back out to get it.

Whilst he was gone I sat in my chair, wondering how I would cope with a grieving husband if the worst were to happen. I had hoped the worst wouldn’t happen, but couldn’t help but pray and ask God to prepare me for whatever difficult situation might be on its way. I was in a brand new country, with a brand new marriage – these adaptations were already enough to cope with! I did not know how I would be able to manage a possible bereavement too!

A few hours later, what I feared the most had come upon me – my husband’s uncle (whom he loved so dearly) had passed away. When we received the news my husband cried like a child…All I could do was hold him. I felt bad and was in shock at this seemingly untimely news. I knew I had to be there to support my husband, but the events that followed, I was not prepared for.

The very next morning, another of my husband’s uncles was travelling from Togo to Ghana, where his late uncle had lived with his family. We decided to go with him. After an approximate 3-hour drive we arrived at the house. I couldn’t help but be worried about what would come as I would see all his children and his wife. I knew they would be devastated and there would be nothing anyone could do to comfort them. As I got out of the car I could hear a woman screaming in the house. Her screams were like screams of agony. It was almost unbearable. As I got inside there was sadness everywhere, as was to be expected. The children were crying and others were sitting there silently with sad faces. The screaming was coming from a room in the house and continued for about 10 minutes.

Throughout the day many, many people came to the house to offer their condolences. Some were silently sympathetic, but others screamed and wailed, some even threw themselves on the floor. This heightened emotion was all very new to me and I can only describe it as a culture shock. At one point, the atmosphere became too much for me and I had to leave the house and go for a brief walk. Whilst walking I burst out crying. Not so much because of the death, but because of the intensity of the situation. The atmosphere was so unfamiliar and very overwhelming and at that moment, there was no one there who would have understood exactly where I was coming from. I was the only foreigner. I was the only one who had never experienced such a thing in my life. To everyone else this was normal. It may not have been welcome, but it was normal. I decided to dry my tears and get my act together. This was not about me after all and my main purpose was to be a support to my husband and to the family if at all possible.

The next day, before going back to Togo, we had to go to the mortuary to view the body. I knew this would not be an easy affair, but knowing full well that after death the body becomes only a shell I was not afraid of going to see it. I was mostly worried about how the family members would react seeing their beloved uncle, father, brother lying there, lifeless.

Whilst on the way to the morgue, I did not know exactly what to expect. All I knew was that we were not in Europe, we were in Africa, so the conditions would certainly not be to European standards, but as long as everyone could view the body and leave peacefully that was the main thing. When we got there, we had to wait a while, until we were told that the body was ready. As we entered the room, the first thing that hit me was the smell. It was an indescribable stench. I suddenly could not bear to breathe in. There were flies everywhere and also several dead bodies – and people working on the dead bodies in front of us! I did not expect that...at all. I saw a glimpse of my husband’s uncle, who was laid towards the back of the room. After that I had to make a quick exit.  Had I known that the mortuary setting would be like that, I would never have gone…

Shortly afterwards, we headed back to Togo and the family began to make plans for the funeral, which would happen a month later.

To be continued in my next blog…

I 'Heart' Togo!

In my last blog “Homesick” I promised that I would share with you some of the things I love the most about my new temporary home country, Togo! So, here goes…

Living near the Beach

I currently live about a 10-15 minute walk from the beach, which is great! No such possibility in London! Living so close means my husband and I can go for leisurely walks on Sunday afternoons or enjoy the ocean breeze on hot days.

The pets at the Family House

At the family house in Lome, there is quite a bit of outdoor space and my father-in-law, an animal lover , has many pets. He has goats and rabbits (which he sells on occasion) a kitten, a budgie a dog (of course) and a monkey, which I love!  He says his next pet is a parrot!

Very Affordable Beauty Treatments

Here in Togo, beauty treatments don’t have to be a luxury as they often are in good old London! I can get my hair washed, blow-dried and set for 400 francs (equivalent of about 50p) and a full manicure and pedicure for 3,000cfa (about £4.00)!

Extremely Affordable Tailoring!

Togo is great for getting your own clothes custom-made. The market has a wide range of fabrics to choose from – both African print and European fabrics. The tailoring is so low cost that you could afford to get a whole new wardrobe! My husband recently ordered 5 tailor-made dresses for me. Grand total for workmanship: approx. £30.00!

French!

The main language in Togo is French.  All of the signage and billboards are in French and the majority of TV programmes and films have French voice-overs .  Instead of seeing this as an obstacle, I see it as an opportunity to learn a brand new (and rather fabulous) language!

Siesta!

Siesta is common practice here in Togo. In the middle of the day many workers go home for lunch a few hours’ rest and then head back to work. Although I find it hard to rest during the day, I think the concept is great and it’s a far cry from London’s rat race culture, where siesta is definitely not a possibility!

Interesting Outdoor Places to Chill

In Togo, you can find many gardens and parks that have been fitted with places where you can go to eat drink and listen to music. These places are great as they are in the middle of nature - surrounded by beautiful trees and flowers and some, near the water! They are great for fun times with friends or chilling with your significant other!

Fried Sweet Potato, Spaghetti and Degue!

Believe it or not I had never eaten fried sweet potato before coming to Togo. In my culture we always boiled it or sometimes even mashed it! In Togo, it’s common to eat fried sweet potato with chicken sausage, noodles and a tomato and onion sauce.  I have to say I really enjoy it! Another Togo speciality is hot spaghetti, which can come in a red sauce, with chicken sausage or beef, onions, peppers and mayo. There are places in Togo that only sell spaghetti as it’s very popular

Something sweeter is a favourite of mine called Degue (pron. “deg-eh”). It’s sweet cous-cous with youghurt – really nice  J

Moto-Culture!

The main form of transport in Togo is the motorbike! There are taxis available, but most people have their own motorbike or get around on a “taxi-moto” or “zemidjan” as they call it here in Togo – basically you hail down a motorbike, tell the driver where you’re going, agree on a price, get on the back of the bike and off you go! This means there is hardly any traffic on the streets of Lome – the complete opposite to traffic-ridden Accra!

These are just a few things I love, as well as the outdoor swimming pools, night-time candy stalls and more. Indeed I still miss my hometown from time to time, but I am glad to have found these little treasures in Togo! 

J

Homesick!

I have to admit when I first moved to Africa, it was a little difficult for me to adapt. Although I initially looked forward to having a completely new experience and way of life for the next few months, at times I really missed my old lifestyle. I missed my life, my city.

Whenever things did not go in my favour I would think about the fact that I was not in my own environment of familiar surroundings and a lifestyle that I was well adapted to. This made me sad and I also expected my husband to be sad for me. I wanted him to feel sorry for me. In the beginning he did. When I would cry he would be right there with me, patting me on the shoulder, but after a while the whole “woe is me” act got a bit old and my husband got sick of it…

So, with no sympathy vote from my husband, I was forced to take some time for reflection and evaluation. It was then that I realised my attitude stank! I began to think deeper about what I could do to change and it was then that I had an “ah-ha!” moment!

I realised that though my body was in Togo, my heart was still in London. I had failed to make Togo my “home for now”. I looked around and nothing reflected me. I was still a stranger, even in my marital home. I decided it was time for change…

I redecorated our place so that it reflected me a little more. Also, when going through my things I found some CDs of songs that a friend had recorded for my wedding day. These were songs that I personally chose and put together on a list for her to record. I put one of the CDs into my laptop and began listening. Even that small action made a difference – finally there was something of me in the place – something that reflected me. I finally began to feel at home.

Only when I decided to get out of alien mode, was I able to see all of the good things that Togo has to offer and the many things I could do whilst I am out here.

I learned a valuable lesson in all of this. Adapting to new environments can be difficult, especially when the new environment is completely different to anything you are used to! However, if you refuse to adapt, you will miss out on great opportunities and experiences you may not have otherwise had!

Naturally, there are still some things that I miss and will continue to miss about London. They are:

• My family
• The constant flow of electricity
• Being on the Pearls and Perils radio show with my pals 
• Going out on the town with my friends
• Sunday dinner with my family
• Haagen Dazs Café
• The absence of mosquitos
• Eastenders

Nevertheless, there are many things I love about Togo and I have decided to devote my next blog to sharing those things with you!

J

Light-off!

The term “light-off” is one commonly used in Africa. This is because in many African countries “light-off” is a common occurrence! This is when the electricity is cut off nationally or in a particular area, for a period of time.

I experienced light-off on a number of occasions whilst in Ghana. I stayed there for a few weeks before and after getting married and throughout the duration of my stay, light-off seemed to become more and more frequent. In the middle of the day or night at any given moment, all of the electricity would go off. The fridge, TV, light, fan, air-con – everything! If only "light-off" meant just the lights going off eh! The worst thing was that sometimes a whole day would go by before it came back on! The family I was staying with had a generator, but it wasn’t always working.

The day before my wedding, I was on the way to a salon to get me nails done. In the time between me leaving the house and arriving at the salon, light-off occurred! When I got to the salon I was informed that due to light-off and a broken generator (and them not knowing how to do French manicure) they could not serve me. I ended up having to get my nails done true African style, by my mother, outside our house, where there was natural light, a little bit of a breeze and a fairly large stone that we were able to wash and use as a pumice!

Now, to many Africans light-off is part of everyday life (in some cases, literally everyday!) but, for me, a Londoner who is used to having electricity at the push of a button or the insertion of a plug, this would take some getting used to! Where I’m from, the only time there is light-off is when I switch off the light with my finger!

The most frustrating thing about light-off is that the power is not in your hands (pardon the pun).  Once light-off has struck, one must wait until the electricity people decide to switch it back on and grant us electrical current once again! There is no set time – one must hold tight and hope for the best!

One late Ghanaian night, I lay in pitch black darkness and humidity, anticipating light-on, while my husband (a born and bred African) lay next to me complaining about how he can’t stand the whole thing.  It was at that moment that I realised, there are some things in life that we don’t have total control over and although the situation may be uncomfortable or uneasy, we can either let it frustrate us and increase our blood pressure, or we can learn to deal with it as best we can, knowing that eventually the situation will pass.

I absolutely detest light-off and wish it would never, ever happen, but when it does, I try not to get angry or annoyed. I just lay there, fanning myself, knowing that sooner or later “light go come”

Having said all that, I have 2 points to make:

1.)    If I were staying in Africa indefinitely, I would have to, without a doubt invest in a generator!

2.)    Thank goodness I am now in Togo, where light-off is nowhere near as frequent as Ghana!

J

“He Loves Me”

As this is a brand new blog about my time in Africa, I thought it only fitting to start with the very reason why I am here; my husband, Elom.

I met Elom just over a year ago, when I travelled to Ghana on holiday with two friends. It was my first trip to Africa and though I was a little sceptical, when I got to the “mother land” I had a blast!

My good friend Rosie has a huge family, who hosted us throughout the entire duration of our 11-day trip. Her family is amazing…and huge! She has many first cousins – one of which is Elom – meaning “He loves me”.

Elom travelled down from Togo to spend time with us and his cousins whilst we were in Ghana. When I first saw him I thought he was cute, but nothing more than that. I had not come to Africa to look for a man and to be honest never ever in my wildest dreams would I have thought of marrying a native African!

Anyway, to cut a long story short, towards the end of the trip, Elom revealed his feelings for me and we agreed to remain in contact when I got back to the UK. We spoke on skype and on the telephone every day and later that year I travelled back to Africa for 6 weeks to get to know him more.

Aside from the most fundamental things that you would look for in a suitable partner (faith, spiritual development, compatibility etc) there was something that caught me about Elom. I saw in him a different spirit.

Elom was by no means born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but fought against many odds to learn a profession in which he had interest and eventually start his own business. He is a skilled tailor, with an eye for detail and a spirit of creativity. Spending time around him, in his own surroundings I could see that he was not a wavering man. He is a man who knows exactly what he wants and (doesn’t want!) – never undecided.

In little things I could see his ambition and non-conformity to situations that would not necessarily work in his favour. This, his sincerity and his trust in a God who can make all things possible were 3 things that I found very attractive in him.

So, here we are just over a year later and we are married.  While we make plans for our future, we are in Togo, West Africa; a world miles apart from my UK life in more ways than one! I have been here a few weeks, but have already had a number of experiences (some good, some not-so pleasant) that I can’t wait to share with you!

I hope you will enjoy reading my posts, but most importantly, I hope you will learn something valuable with each blog and with each experience.

Happy Reading!