TDI: 1-2 What's this?
Friday evening
Friday evening
I was on my way to the town of Kpalime from the Ghana border. A curvy hill road was cutting through a beautiful rainforest. Stunning views and several waterfalls along the road were welcoming me to this country. Exciting…
Once I arrived, I got dropped off at the big junction. In front of me, there was a guest house that looked affordable. $15 for the room. There’s gotta be better deals around here, I was assuming. And there was. At the next spot, I got a joint for $7.
The town didn’t seem that interesting. I guessed it’s all about nature just outside of it. Later, while walking around, I ran across some backpackers. What? What were they doing here? Before my arrival in Togo, I had been to Ghana, Burkina Faso, Mali, Côte d’Ivoire, Liberia, and Guinea. In just 2 days in Kpalime, I saw more white people there than I did over 3 months traveling in all the other countries combined! Is Togo gonna be the next Kenya? Time will tell.
After an hour and a half of walking, I decided to sit somewhere and get a beer. It was getting dark. I passed by the same junction, where I got dropped off. Now, the vibe was substantially different than a few hours ago. A lot more people. I checked the date on my phone. Ah, I know what this is about… It’s Friday evening.
If you would like to see more photos of West African countries with tropical rainforests, I would recommend checking out my Sierra Leone post.
The very wide sidewalk was completely filled with plastic tables and chairs. Most of them were occupied by smiling locals. Roughly in the middle of the tables, there was a DJ playing local music. By the road, where noisy cars were passing by, the youngsters were hanging out. This is definitely where the action is… I gotta have a beer here.
While sipping, I observed my surroundings. The music was very pleasant, and so was the atmosphere. The locals were drinking and enjoying themselves, and some were dancing. There was a unique routine for serving beer in most parts of Africa: waiters normally lay the bottles on the tray so they don’t tip them over while walking to the table. Then, they would open the bottles once they arrived. Unless they forget. That’s when the lighter comes in handy. I saw the same routine in Ghana as well.
Furthermore, I’ve noticed a new tactic… A waitress was carrying a case of beer. She pulled out about 10 large bottles and set them on a table for thirsty guests. I guessed that was a ‘plan B’ when the number of beers ordered didn’t fit on a tray.
Next to the tables, right by the road… that’s where the action really was. Actually, both sides of the road were packed with kids aged 9 to 17. They were dancing, laughing, and having a true blast… Just like in a nightclub! Many of them were dressed festively. Sunglasses, shiny shoes, exotic T-shirts… I saw some Muslim girls dressed traditionally, yet super colorful. It was probably a Friday night version of their traditional attire.
Some of the kids actually looked like pro dancers. On one side of the road, most of the kids were facing the other side. Basically, they were dancing along the road, facing the others across the road… It was an outdoor teenage nightclub scene.
I truly enjoyed the show. As time passed, the junction was getting busier and busier. Thus, there were no more empty chairs around me. The young crowd has spontaneously expanded towards the middle of the road.
Hence, the portion of the road available for driving was twice as narrow as during the day. There was still a lot of traffic. The cars were flying by at their usual speed while honking. From my sitting position, it looked like some of the kids dancing would get hit.
The most creative and skillful dancers were in the front row, risking their lives to be noticed. People around me, sitting and drinking, paid no attention to the show. I guessed it was just another Friday evening.
What do people normally think about Togo? Poverty, disease, depression… What I witnessed that evening seemed completely opposite. I am not arguing that poverty and disease don’t exist, but apparently, there’s also plenty of joy hidden under the surface.
Did I get mugged?
I arrived in Lome, the capital of Togo, around 5 pm and immediately went out exploring before it got late. Not only for safety, but also because streets seem more interesting during the day. I looked at the map. The city beach is 2 km away. If I go there, I’ll pass through the city center and the street market. Perfect!
The market was surprisingly unusual. The ground was covered with black sand. As a result, it looked quite psychedelic. I kept walking. Reached the ocean drive…. Wow! There are thousands of people on the beach! I crossed the street in order to join them.
It seemed like nothing was really going on, no loud music… Just a lot of people everywhere. I couldn’t even see the end of the crowd. They weren’t sitting, lying on the sand, or playing football, like on ordinary beaches. They were just there hanging out and socializing. There wasn’t really enough room for me to sit on the sand anywhere. If I did, someone would step on me.
In the tropical belt anywhere in the world, the night walls 6:30-7. So locals like to hang out the most outside from 4 till dusk. Especially along the shore, while enjoying the sunset.
Here, it was too crowded to do anything. It was the first time in Africa I saw so many people standing and chilling, without any music or dancing… There was no food served. While experiencing the vibe, I have decided to leave the beach before nightfall.
So, I started working my way back to the road, crossed it, and entered a street heading toward my guesthouse. I left the beach, but I didn’t leave the crowd. The street was even more packed! It was getting dark. At this time, everybody was leaving the beach, so all the streets in the vicinity of the shoreline were packed. Cars and motorcycles passing by were impatiently honking, trying to get through.
At one point, while walking, I felt a hand touching my right shoulder and immediately turned my head. A short middle-aged man was staring at me and shaking my shoulder… He didn’t look like he was threatening me. More like he was crazy. Then I noticed somebody touching my left upper thigh. My pocket!
“Nooo!” I screamed loudly, pushed both of them, and ran toward the middle of the crowded road, where cars were stuck in traffic. Then, I checked if my phone and cash were still in my pocket. Luckily, they were. On the other side of the road, I saw a security guy standing in front of a building. I immediately crossed the road and stood next to him. This should be a safe place to stay for the moment, while I make a plan.
Now I had a chance to see if anything else was gone from my pockets. I kept my right hand in the right pocket, holding my phone, while browsing the other pockets with my left hand. It didn’t really matter, cause other than the phone, I had nothing else valuable: a few bucks, a piece of paper with some notes, gum, hand sanitizer… Good… Nothing was missing. I looked across the street. Those guys were probably gone by now.
The security guy was looking at me, perfectly calm. ‘What did you expect?’, he was probably thinking. Pickpocketing is a very common activity in most parts of the world. On this particular occasion, this street was a perfect playground for it. They do it to locals all the time, I thought. Also, I stood out because of my height and white skin, of course.
I noticed a motor taxi was passing by in front of me. I waved at him in order to get the ride. The guesthouse was only 3 km away. Normally, I wouldn’t get a ride for such a short walk, but this time around, I thought it was appropriate. I didn’t want to get mugged successfully.
Once I finished my journey in West Africa, I went to the sewing shop with two of my backpacking pants. I had the sewer put zippers over the pockets. So I converted them to real backpacking pants:)
I’ve learned a lot about safety from my experiences. Check out my Travel Safety Tips post.
Wanna read more about Togo? I would recommend checking out the blog of my dear traveling friend, Guilherme Canever. Since he is Brazilian, writing for the local audience, make sure you use a translator tool in your browser (unless you’re fluent in Portuguese).