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| Trek in Pays Dogon, southern circuit |
15 August 2008
data collection
Sometimes it's difficult to describe the circumstances here without sounding negative. Often a description sounds negative, but my intent is to make an observation.
For example: Yesterday (Wednesday) I began my search for statistical data about the region-- economic and business information-- to begin to work on an analysis of the local business environment. I met with the statistical expert for the region I'm working in. He's accustomed to working with NGOs and understands the need for transparency and information-sharing. He's super smart, knows what data is available to him and how to put his hands on it.
But here's what the meeting was like: a technical assistant on the project (Malian, educated, smart, high-performing), picked me up at my house. He gave me a ride on his moto (a 125cc Yamaha) to the economist's office. We had to go across town, which means dodging mud puddles that cover more than half of the road, never knowing how deep they are. Many of them are home to some local pigs (I live in the Christian neighborhood) and piglets. I was wearing a skirt (didn't know when I got dressed that morning that I'd be riding on the back of a moto)-- but that's ok, because all of the women wear skirts 100% of the time and they always ride on the back of motos, so that's just the way it is. Honk at the sheep in the road, they scatter. Honk at the boys leading a donkey cart full of recently harvested onions, they move to the side. (We're only going about 20mph.) Stop to greet friends and family at least three times. Arrive at the office, park in the shade (phew), say hello to everyone (at least 15 people, who work in different offices in that complex, taking a break outside), the men are cooking tea over a small charcoal stove. It's served very very very strong, very hot and with lots of sugar. (It's really just the men who drink it, but they offer it to us expats and I tried it of course.)
Here's what really surprises me-- the office is a large room, empty except for a simple wooden table and three chairs. The walls are cement or stucco, were once painted blue and looks like they were yellow before that. Now they're pockmarked, stained, faded and discolored, a multi-color tie-dye tapestry of concrete, earth and paint. This guy (sorry, I can't remember his name, but I wrote it down), is tall, young (mid-20s), and arises from his chair behind the table to greet us. His cell phone is on the table, and that's all-- nothing else. We shake hands, go through the traditional ritual greetings and sit down across from him. I kept looking at the wall, amazed at the circumstances that he has to work in. (Turns out that his computer is at home.)
For example: Yesterday (Wednesday) I began my search for statistical data about the region-- economic and business information-- to begin to work on an analysis of the local business environment. I met with the statistical expert for the region I'm working in. He's accustomed to working with NGOs and understands the need for transparency and information-sharing. He's super smart, knows what data is available to him and how to put his hands on it.
But here's what the meeting was like: a technical assistant on the project (Malian, educated, smart, high-performing), picked me up at my house. He gave me a ride on his moto (a 125cc Yamaha) to the economist's office. We had to go across town, which means dodging mud puddles that cover more than half of the road, never knowing how deep they are. Many of them are home to some local pigs (I live in the Christian neighborhood) and piglets. I was wearing a skirt (didn't know when I got dressed that morning that I'd be riding on the back of a moto)-- but that's ok, because all of the women wear skirts 100% of the time and they always ride on the back of motos, so that's just the way it is. Honk at the sheep in the road, they scatter. Honk at the boys leading a donkey cart full of recently harvested onions, they move to the side. (We're only going about 20mph.) Stop to greet friends and family at least three times. Arrive at the office, park in the shade (phew), say hello to everyone (at least 15 people, who work in different offices in that complex, taking a break outside), the men are cooking tea over a small charcoal stove. It's served very very very strong, very hot and with lots of sugar. (It's really just the men who drink it, but they offer it to us expats and I tried it of course.)
Here's what really surprises me-- the office is a large room, empty except for a simple wooden table and three chairs. The walls are cement or stucco, were once painted blue and looks like they were yellow before that. Now they're pockmarked, stained, faded and discolored, a multi-color tie-dye tapestry of concrete, earth and paint. This guy (sorry, I can't remember his name, but I wrote it down), is tall, young (mid-20s), and arises from his chair behind the table to greet us. His cell phone is on the table, and that's all-- nothing else. We shake hands, go through the traditional ritual greetings and sit down across from him. I kept looking at the wall, amazed at the circumstances that he has to work in. (Turns out that his computer is at home.)
12 August 2008
today was a good day
I have good days and bad days: days go bad when the psychic distress of witnessing so many people living in the dirt weighs me down. Some days I feel hopeless and helpless, feeling that it will never change. It's a complex mix of political, economic, geographic, cultural factors (and more) that keep the standard of living low.
Today however was a good day. I am very lucky to have been assigned to this project and happy to discover that the project is managed by a truly high-performing team.
This morning I attended my first staff meeting with the team-- Cristina, the project administrator and my main contact directed the meeting. Also present were two staff members, Malians, who reported on the activities accomplished in the past month, status of ongoing projects and plans for the second year (beginning October 1st). These guys get a lot done! And Cristina runs a tight ship. (And, an ongoing challenge for me, all in French-- except when I tried to explain how to link MSMEs with the appropriate finance organizations, I needed help with that).
Then we visited our new office, a good-sized building with a pretty courtyard just a half block from my house. We're moving at the end of the month, we'll have AC and internet! I won't have to walk through town to get to work in the mornings. (It is a typical village in a developing country, with goats and sheep and children dressed in rags demanding "donnes-moi un cadeau" and dusty or muddy streets and trash scattered about. No worse than anywhere else, but it makes me sad, discouraged and tired.)
Also, it rained last night, a grand storm that brought with it cooler temperatures, which seems to cheer me up. It arrived with strong wind and heavy rain, followed by a steady light rain until about 9am. I enjoy the ringing rhythm of the rain falling on my roof, corrugated metal. The temperature dropped about 20 degrees and has stayed cool all morning, grâce aux nuages! It was (and will be) a good night for sleeping!
Still no photos yet. Waiting for my laptop to arrive (ETA 3-4 weeks), or one I can borrow, I don't think the computers here at the cybercafe can handle the file sizes.
Today however was a good day. I am very lucky to have been assigned to this project and happy to discover that the project is managed by a truly high-performing team.
This morning I attended my first staff meeting with the team-- Cristina, the project administrator and my main contact directed the meeting. Also present were two staff members, Malians, who reported on the activities accomplished in the past month, status of ongoing projects and plans for the second year (beginning October 1st). These guys get a lot done! And Cristina runs a tight ship. (And, an ongoing challenge for me, all in French-- except when I tried to explain how to link MSMEs with the appropriate finance organizations, I needed help with that).
Then we visited our new office, a good-sized building with a pretty courtyard just a half block from my house. We're moving at the end of the month, we'll have AC and internet! I won't have to walk through town to get to work in the mornings. (It is a typical village in a developing country, with goats and sheep and children dressed in rags demanding "donnes-moi un cadeau" and dusty or muddy streets and trash scattered about. No worse than anywhere else, but it makes me sad, discouraged and tired.)
Also, it rained last night, a grand storm that brought with it cooler temperatures, which seems to cheer me up. It arrived with strong wind and heavy rain, followed by a steady light rain until about 9am. I enjoy the ringing rhythm of the rain falling on my roof, corrugated metal. The temperature dropped about 20 degrees and has stayed cool all morning, grâce aux nuages! It was (and will be) a good night for sleeping!
Still no photos yet. Waiting for my laptop to arrive (ETA 3-4 weeks), or one I can borrow, I don't think the computers here at the cybercafe can handle the file sizes.
11 August 2008
anti-negativity
Just last night I was feeling bad about starting off the blog so negatively. But I'm sticking to my commitment to always be true to my present state when I post, so that's what you get. Really,
things have been surprisingly good despite the obstacles. I don't think I wrote about that yet, the obstacles: the surprising contradiction that I have a large beautiful house with a cook and a guard but I have no furniture. (My neighbor loaned me a small table and a chair this morning, so I no longer will have to eat on the floor.) Like the fact that I'm here but my office is not. (It's moving here at the end of the month. My computer should arrive in October.)
By the way, having a cook and a guard is standard and somewhat necessary. For example, because I don't have a stove yet, the cook is using a traditional charcoal stove to prepare my meals (indoors, if it's raining). If I want to eat chicken, she purchases a live one. I may even get some chickens to keep in the garden-- mmm, fresh eggs. The guard takes care of odds and ends-- like calling the plumber to figure out why the water coming out of the tap is black, talking to the landlord about finally getting the electricity turned on, and keeping strangers from cultivating crops in my garden (Turns out that the mini millet field presently in my garden was planted by the guard next door. I told him he can use the field until the harvest).
I was writing to say that I'm not miserable. I'm ok, really, I'm just pissed off that things weren't prepared in advance, as they had agreed, and that I'm still sleeping in a mosquito tent. Now Washington has told me that I don't have a budget for furniture.
Honestly, I remain optimistic about this project and about my role in it. The needs really do fit my strengths and the professional challenges match those that I personally want to tackle. I still believe in the power of human energy and innovation. But now I'm getting impatient, I want to get started, I want to have the tools and resources I need to get the job done.
things have been surprisingly good despite the obstacles. I don't think I wrote about that yet, the obstacles: the surprising contradiction that I have a large beautiful house with a cook and a guard but I have no furniture. (My neighbor loaned me a small table and a chair this morning, so I no longer will have to eat on the floor.) Like the fact that I'm here but my office is not. (It's moving here at the end of the month. My computer should arrive in October.)
By the way, having a cook and a guard is standard and somewhat necessary. For example, because I don't have a stove yet, the cook is using a traditional charcoal stove to prepare my meals (indoors, if it's raining). If I want to eat chicken, she purchases a live one. I may even get some chickens to keep in the garden-- mmm, fresh eggs. The guard takes care of odds and ends-- like calling the plumber to figure out why the water coming out of the tap is black, talking to the landlord about finally getting the electricity turned on, and keeping strangers from cultivating crops in my garden (Turns out that the mini millet field presently in my garden was planted by the guard next door. I told him he can use the field until the harvest).
I was writing to say that I'm not miserable. I'm ok, really, I'm just pissed off that things weren't prepared in advance, as they had agreed, and that I'm still sleeping in a mosquito tent. Now Washington has told me that I don't have a budget for furniture.
Honestly, I remain optimistic about this project and about my role in it. The needs really do fit my strengths and the professional challenges match those that I personally want to tackle. I still believe in the power of human energy and innovation. But now I'm getting impatient, I want to get started, I want to have the tools and resources I need to get the job done.
09 August 2008
the good life
The good news is that I'm eating well and getting plenty of rest. This goes a long way toward supporting my mental health. Haven't gotten sick yet (other than minor intestinal distress, of course).
disillusioned and discouraged
Ned's right.
Yesterday I experienced my first day of disillusionment. It's been building up, I've had good days and bad-- usually alternating. One day I'll feel that I've learned a lot, got something accomplished (even if that means finding potable water-- we're talking baby steps here), have enthusiasm for advancement on the project, then the next day I'll be hot and sweaty and sticky with dust and can't imagine moving from my position, lying spreadeagle, naked, on the floor under the fan. (It's best to do this right after a shower, to take advantage of the cooling evaporative effect.)
It all culminated in Daou asking me if I can help him resolve a problem. The solution, of course, involved me giving him more money. After I've paid him in advance for a month of lessons, after I told him that the project is not giving me a budget for house furnishings, after I explained that I'm not getting paid for this... I just said no, flat out no.
Later I remembered Margaret explaining to me that in this culture no one ever says no, it's considered rude. When the guides hassle you on the street, when a kid tries to sell you a necklace, you always have to say "plus tard" or "demain" never "non." So we'll see what happens. Will he ask again? I wonder what he needs the money for anyway-- gambling debts, girlfriends, a house in the country-- is it rude to ask?
Yesterday I experienced my first day of disillusionment. It's been building up, I've had good days and bad-- usually alternating. One day I'll feel that I've learned a lot, got something accomplished (even if that means finding potable water-- we're talking baby steps here), have enthusiasm for advancement on the project, then the next day I'll be hot and sweaty and sticky with dust and can't imagine moving from my position, lying spreadeagle, naked, on the floor under the fan. (It's best to do this right after a shower, to take advantage of the cooling evaporative effect.)
It all culminated in Daou asking me if I can help him resolve a problem. The solution, of course, involved me giving him more money. After I've paid him in advance for a month of lessons, after I told him that the project is not giving me a budget for house furnishings, after I explained that I'm not getting paid for this... I just said no, flat out no.
Later I remembered Margaret explaining to me that in this culture no one ever says no, it's considered rude. When the guides hassle you on the street, when a kid tries to sell you a necklace, you always have to say "plus tard" or "demain" never "non." So we'll see what happens. Will he ask again? I wonder what he needs the money for anyway-- gambling debts, girlfriends, a house in the country-- is it rude to ask?
wait
It's hot here. I'm always waiting for a storm, hoping it will cool things off. That has happened once so far in the two-and-a-half weeks since I arrived. There have actually been several storms since I've been here, very exciting with strong wind and heavy rain, but only once did it cool off afterwards.
I've made friends with the local expat crowd, the Germans and the Italians, there're all terrific, especially my neighbor, Margaret, who loves to speak english. Sadly, she's leaving for an extended holiday tomorrow and won't be back until early October.
The language gap is a problem, more so than I had hoped. But I've found a tutor to work with, Daou, and I'm becoming more accustomed to the local accent, so I know will improve over time. It's just so slow. But I've learned that the keyword for my experience here is "wait." Either wait for someone or something, or wait and the problem will resolve itself. Patience, time, don't force it. It's a good lesson.
I've made friends with the local expat crowd, the Germans and the Italians, there're all terrific, especially my neighbor, Margaret, who loves to speak english. Sadly, she's leaving for an extended holiday tomorrow and won't be back until early October.
The language gap is a problem, more so than I had hoped. But I've found a tutor to work with, Daou, and I'm becoming more accustomed to the local accent, so I know will improve over time. It's just so slow. But I've learned that the keyword for my experience here is "wait." Either wait for someone or something, or wait and the problem will resolve itself. Patience, time, don't force it. It's a good lesson.
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