The humid West African air hits you like a brick when stepping from within the confines of the stale recirculated air of a plane. It invades your nostrils and pores, adhering your clothes to you body and filling you with an instant largesse that only mojitos and naps seem to be able to combat. The smells are those of a warm summer night and something falling on the over-ripe side of 'pleasantly sweet'. I was taken back to Managua as I surveyed the green landscape and tropical trees waving my way into their country, the smells and urban planning of Lome seeming deceptively familiar. I find Togo beautiful in the way you look at an old barn or the rusted shell of your first car. The poverty is so apparent as to be comforting, the half completed or half-razed shells of buildings so frequent as to be reassuring. The sandy streets and shuffling citizens tell me 'look here, this is the way things have been. Come see how the world really lives.' Lome lies on the coast, the center of town situated no more than a few clicks from the Ghanese border. A few paved roads act as arteries for the sidestreets and communities, all tied together by the beach road running parallel to the shore. It is hot here, and humid, but no more so than a balmy summer day in South Carolina. In an effort to send us off with a thorough grounding in West African economics, the welcoming commitee that greeted us at the hostel (current PCVs) have shown us the many ways to purchase many types of local beers, all falling in at well under a dollar. I must say, its taken me quite a lot of studying, but Im beginning to get the idea.

The group I arrived with are mostly young, green, college grads, here out of a vague sense of social consciousness and white guilt - I cant say Im any different. There are a few professionals in the group, and we have all meshed well and are progressing on towards what Im sure will soon seem like an extended family. Our staging starts tomorrow, when we leave for Agou, to the north, where we will meet our host families and move into what will be our homes for the next 3 months. We are all re-packing after our few days here, ready to begin what we all started so many months back.

As I stared at the sky last night, the moon shining through a few murky clouds, something resounded inside of me, saying 'yes, this is where you should be. yes, your intuition is right. yes, your journey has only started.' So I sat and stared and let myself be enveloped in the magic of the sights, sounds, smells, coincidence, surprise and interrelatedness of it all. Then I stood, brushed myself off, grabbed my bags and walked through the gate. Welcome to Africa.