The meeting had a noble goal. As part of the action plan of a village-wide meeting a few weeks ago, I decided to pull together the leaders of the village groups, associations and organizations to try to figure out why there isn't more collaboration among community leaders along with lots of duplication and redundency.
I was really excited about this. From the day of my arrival, that is my second arrival that didn't involve fainting and lots of blood loss, I had talked to many passionate people doing some really neat things in the village; However, they all seemed to be off in their own corners, not sharing ideas, stories of success or failure or simply feeding off each other's energy. So, for this meeting I had in mind a room filled with a dozen of the town's movers and shakers where we figured out where we shared the mission and activities of all these different organizations did and worked through some of the key ways they can work better together for their beneift as well as that of the village.
It was not to be. However, what did happen ended up being really interesting and telling in its own right.
Thirty-mintues after the meeting was supposed to start, only four faithful participants showed up, all people I knew fairly well and had effectively guilted into coming. It's actually the good opening line to a joke: "So a chief, an imam and a president of a women's co-op walk into a room.."
Anyway, given this ironic nature of the turnout, i.e. a meeting about collaboration without collaborators, the plan would have to change but not in too different a direction. We started talking about why people wouldn't show up for a meeting about collaboration, something that I intuitively thought people would jump to as well as as we would have to do for people in the village to work better together.
What came out, especially from the local Imam and the Chief of Farende (a sweet guy with a voice like Marlon Brando - if Brando spoke French, that is - and an amazing collection of hats), was that people, although they might understand in the abstract why colaboration is important, aren't motivated enough to invest in it. The chef talked about how at the family level, they save together to buy a radio and understand how working together solves common problems. At the level of the village or among different organzation, however, the rewards of collaboration seem uncertain and abstract. Perhaps I could learn from the examples of others, but is the time it would take to have a meeting worth it, given my dusk 'till dawn schedule of hard work at home as well as the uncertain nature of what will come. In other words, being an entrepreneur testing the waters and learning from best practices is a lot easier without the constraints of subsistence living. You're also a lot more motivated to do the tough work of organization, coordination and analysis if you're from a can-do culture where the resoruces make success likely, not where you are used to being stuck behind.
So, through this meeting, quite accidently, we ended up getting to the core of the problems of collaboration in this setting. The only difference was that a kind of meta-lesson about the difficulty of collaboration was mixed into this dialogue. Cute.
I have another big meeting planned for this Thursday, one which is town-wide and with a narrower mission. The goal is to promote this tax-system I have been working on all summer. The Impot de Solidarité pour la Developpement (ISD, a solidarity sax for development of the village) is 100CFA (20 cents) per month per family tax that will be used to pay for public goods in the community. This fund will be used to repare roads, dig wells and fix up the market.
I think it's a great way to give this village a chance to invest in its future in a way that is empowering to the villagers both in terms of independence from outside help and also in bringing together the village for these common goods. However this tax poses a particular problem for me and the village: it is not a matter of getting a grant or not or getting a big donation or not. The village has the resources and the success or failure of this project is purely an issue of motivation and organization to get the work done.
So, my work to this point has been to figure out how we can convince the villagers to give up their much neeed money for these public goods. I've worked to set up a special commission to research the details of potential projects, follow up on ones that are started, follow-up with collectors and do the public relations work. It's important for the villagers to know that their money is going to be taken care of in a transparent and accoutnable way where they have a voice. But, they with also need a push o f motivation. At this meeting, it is my job to kick start the public relations work by trying to convince the villagers that what they do for their families - saving and working together towards common ends - is something they should and must do for their village:
I'm looking forward to the challenge and will let you know how it goes. I only hope people show up!
Cheers,
Alex
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Cards and Steriods
It was another quiet evening in Togo and I was playing cards with the two oldest kids in the household. My family here in Togo has three adorable kids, all boys. Firmin is 11 and the partiarch of the family and not quite naive enough. Marusa is 8 and is appropriately naive. Paulin, the oh-so-cute 3 year old with a pot-belly, an irrepressible smile.
The game, which they call the "Jeu American" or American game, is basically crazy 8s with a few other rules mixed in. It's always a good time for all and a great way to pass the time after a good meal. It was a good game of cards and I had just won a round. As the cards were being counted for points, a saw the oldest, Firmin, sliding one of his cards into the pile before counting it.
Cheating. My reaction was not one that cared about winning but did care about making a point and teaching a lesson, and I saw an opportunity. This is not the first time I caught him doing this, but I gave him another, now perfected, lecture about how important honestly is, how if he wants people to trust him in life he has to be honest even when he's playing cards blah blah blah. Sensing this message needed some additional reinforcement since it wasn't the first time I used it, I imposed a new rule that those that are caught cheating gets 50 points added to their score. Thinking I finally had won, we continued the game. Before the night was out, I caught both of the brothers cheating once. Sigh.
Now, what to make of this? Even after explaining how it doesn't really matter who wins because it's just a game; that being honest will make you feel much better when you do win; that having people trust you is one of the most important things out there and even some pontificating about the idea of fairness, the kids still cheat. Is it just youthful immaturity? A blood-thirsty desire to win? Or rather a deeper cultural phenomenon?
It's probably a combination oh all of these, but looking at it through a cultural lens, it follows a lot of what I've seen in terms of bribery and corruption in Togo. From the cop that pulled over my professor here for "running a red light" and got 5,000 (10 bucks) in a bribe before he'd let us go to the cop that pulled over our taxi going between my village and Ketao for absolutely no reason, just to extract a 1,000 (2 bucks) payment, for what exactly I'm not sure, the attitude seems to be something as follows: although there are rules and laws, everyone is breaking them. By not taking a bribe or cheating, you are at a disadvantage and falling behind those around you, missing out an opportunity to help yourself and your family.
From this comes a different idea of fairness. In the US we tend to believe in fair systems. A deck of cards dealt out gives everyone an equal shot of having a good hand. Maybe fate will deal you a bad hand this time, but you're just as likely to get a great hand later. The same can be said about the police. Although everyone around me was speeding too, the fact that I got caught was random, but in the long run it's fair to all.
In Togo, it's a little different. They believe in fair relationships. By that I mean, that the systems are always tilted against them so that they have to rely on people to help them out when they are in a pickle. Pay for police officers is lousy, thus bribes are part of the job, and are exactly what you would do if you were in that position or one of your family members was as well.
The same seems to go for jobs and university admissions. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day who said he supports the leading oppostion party, the UFC, which hardly has a foothold as the RPT, the ruling party has been in power for 40 years. However, when I was asking about ways to raise their support in Togo, he mentioned that even he worries about being too vocal for fear of being blacklisted. Not exactly democracy or fairness, but if everyone is protecting members from their party or ethnic group or family, then it all evens out, right?
When I talk to Togolese about how they see corruption, they respond with slight indignation that is over shawdowed by pessismistic fatalism that has accepted this reality. But I'm also brought back to examples in the US culture of shameful, widespread cheating. The CEO scandals as well the steroids epidemic in baseball show that this sort of corruption and cheating depends not just on the larger, but also the relative context. In other words, otherwise perfectly honest people find themselves in a context where they cheat. In regards to the Major League Baseball scandal; the public reaction is unamious condamnation. But when you hear the players talk about it, they claim that everyone is taking sterioids, and that even though it's illegal, you are falling behind others if you don't follow suit. Even though they apparently have the same norms of fairness as the general American population, the desire to compete and the lack of faith in others forces them to give in to temptation.
Thinking about how this might change, it seems that the belief in abstract concepts like fairness and justice that we have in the US requires a huge amount of faith. That those that take bribes will eventually be caught and punished and good officers will be promoted requires the faith that those above and around you will enforce the institution of the thin blue line and also that others around you are following suit. If not, you're only hurting yourself and your family by not following suit; you're the sucker not taking advantage of what he can. The same goes for those baseball players that cheat: unless they are convinced that those around them are clean, they will think they need to juice up just to keep up. The idea of appealing to abstract ideas public service, or ideas of justice is tricky when in the larger context and, probably more importantly, the smaller context of those around you, people aren't following suit.
So, back to those ragamuffin children who I repeatedly catch cheating. If you live in this relationship culture, one that instructs you to take advantage of the system when you can and the larger context which is pretty corrupt, it might make sense to cheat when you think everyone else is. If everyone is cheating at cards, all you are doing is being competitive. They do say that if you're playing cards and you can't find the sucker, then it's probably you. So maybe they are just taking me for a ride?
I'm going to see what I can do to root out the corruption in my family card games - if you have any ideas let me know! It's been tough already so I can't imagine a country wide anti-corruption campaign would take! But I'm also going to be thinking a lot generally about how corruption can be fought in Togo.
Cheers,
Alex
*I also have to take this moment to mention a small personal tragedy which depressed me a little. At this big ceremony last week my camera with all my great pictures on it was stolen from right out of my pocket while I was making my way through this big crowd. I know these things happen everywhere in the world but I was still pretty upset because I had just gotten to feel very safe and comfortable here in Togo, more so that I'd ever felt in other developing countries I've been to. I'm lucky enough to be able to replace the camera, but the pictures not so much. Oh well, one of the risks of travelling!
The game, which they call the "Jeu American" or American game, is basically crazy 8s with a few other rules mixed in. It's always a good time for all and a great way to pass the time after a good meal. It was a good game of cards and I had just won a round. As the cards were being counted for points, a saw the oldest, Firmin, sliding one of his cards into the pile before counting it.
Cheating. My reaction was not one that cared about winning but did care about making a point and teaching a lesson, and I saw an opportunity. This is not the first time I caught him doing this, but I gave him another, now perfected, lecture about how important honestly is, how if he wants people to trust him in life he has to be honest even when he's playing cards blah blah blah. Sensing this message needed some additional reinforcement since it wasn't the first time I used it, I imposed a new rule that those that are caught cheating gets 50 points added to their score. Thinking I finally had won, we continued the game. Before the night was out, I caught both of the brothers cheating once. Sigh.
Now, what to make of this? Even after explaining how it doesn't really matter who wins because it's just a game; that being honest will make you feel much better when you do win; that having people trust you is one of the most important things out there and even some pontificating about the idea of fairness, the kids still cheat. Is it just youthful immaturity? A blood-thirsty desire to win? Or rather a deeper cultural phenomenon?
It's probably a combination oh all of these, but looking at it through a cultural lens, it follows a lot of what I've seen in terms of bribery and corruption in Togo. From the cop that pulled over my professor here for "running a red light" and got 5,000 (10 bucks) in a bribe before he'd let us go to the cop that pulled over our taxi going between my village and Ketao for absolutely no reason, just to extract a 1,000 (2 bucks) payment, for what exactly I'm not sure, the attitude seems to be something as follows: although there are rules and laws, everyone is breaking them. By not taking a bribe or cheating, you are at a disadvantage and falling behind those around you, missing out an opportunity to help yourself and your family.
From this comes a different idea of fairness. In the US we tend to believe in fair systems. A deck of cards dealt out gives everyone an equal shot of having a good hand. Maybe fate will deal you a bad hand this time, but you're just as likely to get a great hand later. The same can be said about the police. Although everyone around me was speeding too, the fact that I got caught was random, but in the long run it's fair to all.
In Togo, it's a little different. They believe in fair relationships. By that I mean, that the systems are always tilted against them so that they have to rely on people to help them out when they are in a pickle. Pay for police officers is lousy, thus bribes are part of the job, and are exactly what you would do if you were in that position or one of your family members was as well.
The same seems to go for jobs and university admissions. I was talking to a friend of mine the other day who said he supports the leading oppostion party, the UFC, which hardly has a foothold as the RPT, the ruling party has been in power for 40 years. However, when I was asking about ways to raise their support in Togo, he mentioned that even he worries about being too vocal for fear of being blacklisted. Not exactly democracy or fairness, but if everyone is protecting members from their party or ethnic group or family, then it all evens out, right?
When I talk to Togolese about how they see corruption, they respond with slight indignation that is over shawdowed by pessismistic fatalism that has accepted this reality. But I'm also brought back to examples in the US culture of shameful, widespread cheating. The CEO scandals as well the steroids epidemic in baseball show that this sort of corruption and cheating depends not just on the larger, but also the relative context. In other words, otherwise perfectly honest people find themselves in a context where they cheat. In regards to the Major League Baseball scandal; the public reaction is unamious condamnation. But when you hear the players talk about it, they claim that everyone is taking sterioids, and that even though it's illegal, you are falling behind others if you don't follow suit. Even though they apparently have the same norms of fairness as the general American population, the desire to compete and the lack of faith in others forces them to give in to temptation.
Thinking about how this might change, it seems that the belief in abstract concepts like fairness and justice that we have in the US requires a huge amount of faith. That those that take bribes will eventually be caught and punished and good officers will be promoted requires the faith that those above and around you will enforce the institution of the thin blue line and also that others around you are following suit. If not, you're only hurting yourself and your family by not following suit; you're the sucker not taking advantage of what he can. The same goes for those baseball players that cheat: unless they are convinced that those around them are clean, they will think they need to juice up just to keep up. The idea of appealing to abstract ideas public service, or ideas of justice is tricky when in the larger context and, probably more importantly, the smaller context of those around you, people aren't following suit.
So, back to those ragamuffin children who I repeatedly catch cheating. If you live in this relationship culture, one that instructs you to take advantage of the system when you can and the larger context which is pretty corrupt, it might make sense to cheat when you think everyone else is. If everyone is cheating at cards, all you are doing is being competitive. They do say that if you're playing cards and you can't find the sucker, then it's probably you. So maybe they are just taking me for a ride?
I'm going to see what I can do to root out the corruption in my family card games - if you have any ideas let me know! It's been tough already so I can't imagine a country wide anti-corruption campaign would take! But I'm also going to be thinking a lot generally about how corruption can be fought in Togo.
Cheers,
Alex
*I also have to take this moment to mention a small personal tragedy which depressed me a little. At this big ceremony last week my camera with all my great pictures on it was stolen from right out of my pocket while I was making my way through this big crowd. I know these things happen everywhere in the world but I was still pretty upset because I had just gotten to feel very safe and comfortable here in Togo, more so that I'd ever felt in other developing countries I've been to. I'm lucky enough to be able to replace the camera, but the pictures not so much. Oh well, one of the risks of travelling!
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Village Life!
The Schedule of the village.
Wednesday, July 08, 2009
Cuture Conflict
The run-down taxi slowly rolls to a stop on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere. The driver jumps out, opens the hood, taps a wrench he hides under the hood a fewer time and gets back it. He figets with the gas pedal, clutch, and - for some reason - the interior fan. This process repeats 3 times on the 10 kilometer long trek to Ketao. Ah, the African quick and dirty fix.
My last post talked about the culture of chaos here in Togo. This time I want to go a little deeper into the cultural issues that, as the progam assitant here calls it, mettent le freign sur la developpement - that put the brake on development - in Togo and delve into that dangerous territory of the cultural things that need to change for Togo to develop.
I want to start out by looking at culture from an objective viewpoint. The director of this program in Togo is an anthropologist and constantly pushes us to see Togo trough the lens of evolved cultural practices that are atuned to the conditions they live in. The underlying message is that people don't do things randomly, all things are done for a reason.
I accept that premise, however, I don't think this neccesarily means that all things are done the best way they should (a dangerous word, I know), particularly for the current time and space. My thoughts on this boil down to two forces. First that inertia - continuing what you did yesterday even if times have changed - is a powerful force in all human beings. Second, over time some practices have clear mechanisms that reinforce gradual evolution towards a more effective endpoint at the indivudal. Others do not have such a mechanism, particular at the indivdual level.
Agriculture is a good example of a practice that easily evolves. Whether your crop does better or worse a certain way will affect what you'll do next year. There is no reason why you'd want less corn. For instance, in my village, isn't too reliable; sometimes there is too much and sometimes not enough. This is even more problematic if you're trying to grow a few different crops. However an ingenious solution emerged for how you grow both yams (which require less water) and sorghum (which requires more water) at the same time is by building these cute little mounds around the sorghum to give the yams a higher and drier place to grow. The culture here has been very receptive of fertilizer and people always complain about why it isn't cheaper.
A muddier case of an eveolved cultural practice is the afernoon siesta. Waking at sunrise and taking a nap from 12-3pm is a great idea when you are a farmer who doesn't want to be out during the hottests hours. But should this also apply to the microfinance office in Farende? Maybe... but for the banker in Lome with hardly a field in sight? I doubt it. I heard that Spain is working to abolish the siesta there but you can see how long that took. Inertia. But also the fact that there is no force to change this practice is everyone is doing it. Why would you keep the supermarket open from 12-3 if everyone else is taking a nap, even if you'd prefer not to close and reopen? The evolution to the culture can only happen collectively, not at the individual level.
And then there is the case of the quick and dirty fix, one that looks to the short term - completing that taxi trip - instead of the long term - not having to stop 3 more times on the way back or the rest of the year. An attitude that privledge the short term against the long term is one I've bumped up against time and time again here. Whether it has to with buying cigarettes one at a time instead of a pack, buying small cheaper per unit can, poorly organized meetings or making key investments by taking a loan or saving to start a business.
After hearing all about the power of microfinance, I was excited to see how it would work out here. I've talked to the office in the village and he says there buisness is very slow because people don't want to take risks and don't like saving. According to him, although they are poor, they prefer to do what they know works as opposed to saving an investing in a better future. Yes, if you are poor it makes sense to be risk averse. However; if you are trying to get out of poverty, it doesn't.
I imagine this short term practice developed because of the subsistence nature of farming. You live day in and day out and just try to make ends meet. This continues into other spheres: because you don't have the money to get a new engine, or transmission, you push it till it gets going. However when you extend this attitude to other question of development, it gets dicey.
Take those development meetings that start 2 hours late. Great idea, but they are also poorly planned, don't accomplish the main goals and have no follow-up. Sounds like a procrastinating student. But in the terribly difficult coordination task of development, you can't priviledge the short term over the long term. You have to do the hard work and focus so that you can see results in a year.
However what is so striking is that in a society that farms, the ultimate tale of delayed gratification as you spend months toiling for one harvest, this attitude hasn't transferred elsewhere. So perhaps there is the possibility to change this cultural practice in those instances when they need it to? I can only hope so as I see nothing imperialistic about focusing on the importance of saving and planning!
My internet time is expiring; but until next time?
My last post talked about the culture of chaos here in Togo. This time I want to go a little deeper into the cultural issues that, as the progam assitant here calls it, mettent le freign sur la developpement - that put the brake on development - in Togo and delve into that dangerous territory of the cultural things that need to change for Togo to develop.
I want to start out by looking at culture from an objective viewpoint. The director of this program in Togo is an anthropologist and constantly pushes us to see Togo trough the lens of evolved cultural practices that are atuned to the conditions they live in. The underlying message is that people don't do things randomly, all things are done for a reason.
I accept that premise, however, I don't think this neccesarily means that all things are done the best way they should (a dangerous word, I know), particularly for the current time and space. My thoughts on this boil down to two forces. First that inertia - continuing what you did yesterday even if times have changed - is a powerful force in all human beings. Second, over time some practices have clear mechanisms that reinforce gradual evolution towards a more effective endpoint at the indivudal. Others do not have such a mechanism, particular at the indivdual level.
Agriculture is a good example of a practice that easily evolves. Whether your crop does better or worse a certain way will affect what you'll do next year. There is no reason why you'd want less corn. For instance, in my village, isn't too reliable; sometimes there is too much and sometimes not enough. This is even more problematic if you're trying to grow a few different crops. However an ingenious solution emerged for how you grow both yams (which require less water) and sorghum (which requires more water) at the same time is by building these cute little mounds around the sorghum to give the yams a higher and drier place to grow. The culture here has been very receptive of fertilizer and people always complain about why it isn't cheaper.
A muddier case of an eveolved cultural practice is the afernoon siesta. Waking at sunrise and taking a nap from 12-3pm is a great idea when you are a farmer who doesn't want to be out during the hottests hours. But should this also apply to the microfinance office in Farende? Maybe... but for the banker in Lome with hardly a field in sight? I doubt it. I heard that Spain is working to abolish the siesta there but you can see how long that took. Inertia. But also the fact that there is no force to change this practice is everyone is doing it. Why would you keep the supermarket open from 12-3 if everyone else is taking a nap, even if you'd prefer not to close and reopen? The evolution to the culture can only happen collectively, not at the individual level.
And then there is the case of the quick and dirty fix, one that looks to the short term - completing that taxi trip - instead of the long term - not having to stop 3 more times on the way back or the rest of the year. An attitude that privledge the short term against the long term is one I've bumped up against time and time again here. Whether it has to with buying cigarettes one at a time instead of a pack, buying small cheaper per unit can, poorly organized meetings or making key investments by taking a loan or saving to start a business.
After hearing all about the power of microfinance, I was excited to see how it would work out here. I've talked to the office in the village and he says there buisness is very slow because people don't want to take risks and don't like saving. According to him, although they are poor, they prefer to do what they know works as opposed to saving an investing in a better future. Yes, if you are poor it makes sense to be risk averse. However; if you are trying to get out of poverty, it doesn't.
I imagine this short term practice developed because of the subsistence nature of farming. You live day in and day out and just try to make ends meet. This continues into other spheres: because you don't have the money to get a new engine, or transmission, you push it till it gets going. However when you extend this attitude to other question of development, it gets dicey.
Take those development meetings that start 2 hours late. Great idea, but they are also poorly planned, don't accomplish the main goals and have no follow-up. Sounds like a procrastinating student. But in the terribly difficult coordination task of development, you can't priviledge the short term over the long term. You have to do the hard work and focus so that you can see results in a year.
However what is so striking is that in a society that farms, the ultimate tale of delayed gratification as you spend months toiling for one harvest, this attitude hasn't transferred elsewhere. So perhaps there is the possibility to change this cultural practice in those instances when they need it to? I can only hope so as I see nothing imperialistic about focusing on the importance of saving and planning!
My internet time is expiring; but until next time?
Wednesday, July 01, 2009
Things!
It's been an exciting week here in Farendé! Ive had a bunch of time to be in this fascinating community and try to learn a bit about the challenges and opportunities for development here. Ill get into my observations on that next week, but for now I'd like to discuss some of the, let's call them "adjustments," that I've had to make.
Electricty, specifically the lack thereof.
To be honest, it's not too bad. Thinking about 2 months without iPhone was almost enough to make me not get on that plane to Togo, but despite the definite adjustments it hasn't been too bad. For one, your schedule changes... to one that makes you live the way the earth wants us to. In bed by 8:30, ie a few hours after the sun sets, reading with my headlamp. Up around 6 if the sund doesnt wake me sooner. Ive really enjoyed early morning runs when it feels pretty nice actually. The time between 10-3 isnt terribly conducive to athletics, although there is this natural sauna everywhere. Its definitely a pain using a flashlight for everything you do once the sun goes down (think 2am stumbling to find a tree that looks like it would make a good toilet).
The second thing about the lack of electricity, and something Ive actually really enjoyed, is the fewer distractions that are around me. It's been so much easier to get immersed in a book when you dont have DVR, the internet and all those electronic temptations at your fingertips. Beyond that, Ive had the feeling that the lack of all these technologies that let us be elsewhere has allowed me to do a better job of living in the moment and place and time that Im in. For instance, I just finished reading Moby Dick for the first time, and how incredible it was immersing myself in that tale, especially as I read by a kerosine lantern as the storms brewed overhead, as I can only image this book was designed to be read.
Some nights have been better than others without AC or a fan in my room, but how hard it is to really escape the heat has been rough. There are several methods used here that work to variying degrees: tree shade (not bad); these straw-covered open-air huts called paillotes (pretty good); a shower (soothing, but temporary). There are times, particularly when Im trying to sleep, bullets of sweat running down my body, that I would kill for AC or even a cold beer (the local beer, made for sorghum is pretty good - for taste, think a dry alcoholic cider type taste, is served tepid and no fridge means no ice cold Coca-Cola(TM)) but I think of what this place must be like in the dry season and that these people deal with it their whole lives and I generally stop complaining.
Chaotic Improvisation
My previous summers featured the pretty standard unpaid internship elements: 8:30 to 5:30 office hours, button down shirt (open collar though!), a small desk with stacks of papers and ball-point pens, and lunch breaks at the local café. Not so this summer. This sort of organization was not what I signed up for, and its certainly not what Im getting! The roads are such a fantastic example: cars darting back and forth in between broken down trucks, fearless motorcyclist (there are TONS here), over-loaded bikers and woman with more than I can imagine carrying effortlessly balanced on their heads. With all this, the roads mostly have no lines, are full of pot-holes or just uneven dirt, don't exactly have gutters to help with drainange and stop-lights are interpreted as friendly suggestions, rather than any sort of legal impediment.
Chaos in the way things are done at all different levels as well! Visas? Go through a hole in a wall (literally a hole in the wall) to find an unmarked office. Time? Ha! Meetings that start 2 hours late do not jive with me! Do people show up? Sometimes!
Again, adustment needed. There clearly are benefits of this timeless-ness. I havent seen anybody powerwalking down the streets of Farende with their head down, too busy to say hello and ask how I am doing because they are late for a meeting. They take the time to welcome you and invite you for a drink almost always.Where in the US we'd say (as I have many times before!) that I'd love to catch up with you or do X, Y or Z, but Im too "busy" or Im "late" for a meeting or I dont have the "time" today. In a chaotic, improvised culture, you allow yourself to be immersed in what you have around you, instead of running off to what might be. Ive actually come to realize that part of the problem is that I try to come on time, not thinking about the paradox that if two people are both 2 hours late for a meeting, they are actually both on time.
However, for getting stuff done, for having meetings to learn about development here, this is a pain. For the future of business and government here, this will be a problem. However, maybe it is possible for development to bring timeliness to these sectors, but leave us the time to make time for those around us. Being late always makes me think about my much beloved who is unfortunately not with us any more, Eve Carson. She gave you a 120 percent of her soul when she was with you, but she was always horribly late. Thinking about the concept of being late doesnt usually make me smile; but it does in this case.
But yes! Adjustments! Adjustments that are temporary, but ones that are helping me digest the way I live my life no matter where I am. This is why I love travel!
Until next time,
Alex
Electricty, specifically the lack thereof.
To be honest, it's not too bad. Thinking about 2 months without iPhone was almost enough to make me not get on that plane to Togo, but despite the definite adjustments it hasn't been too bad. For one, your schedule changes... to one that makes you live the way the earth wants us to. In bed by 8:30, ie a few hours after the sun sets, reading with my headlamp. Up around 6 if the sund doesnt wake me sooner. Ive really enjoyed early morning runs when it feels pretty nice actually. The time between 10-3 isnt terribly conducive to athletics, although there is this natural sauna everywhere. Its definitely a pain using a flashlight for everything you do once the sun goes down (think 2am stumbling to find a tree that looks like it would make a good toilet).
The second thing about the lack of electricity, and something Ive actually really enjoyed, is the fewer distractions that are around me. It's been so much easier to get immersed in a book when you dont have DVR, the internet and all those electronic temptations at your fingertips. Beyond that, Ive had the feeling that the lack of all these technologies that let us be elsewhere has allowed me to do a better job of living in the moment and place and time that Im in. For instance, I just finished reading Moby Dick for the first time, and how incredible it was immersing myself in that tale, especially as I read by a kerosine lantern as the storms brewed overhead, as I can only image this book was designed to be read.
Some nights have been better than others without AC or a fan in my room, but how hard it is to really escape the heat has been rough. There are several methods used here that work to variying degrees: tree shade (not bad); these straw-covered open-air huts called paillotes (pretty good); a shower (soothing, but temporary). There are times, particularly when Im trying to sleep, bullets of sweat running down my body, that I would kill for AC or even a cold beer (the local beer, made for sorghum is pretty good - for taste, think a dry alcoholic cider type taste, is served tepid and no fridge means no ice cold Coca-Cola(TM)) but I think of what this place must be like in the dry season and that these people deal with it their whole lives and I generally stop complaining.
Chaotic Improvisation
My previous summers featured the pretty standard unpaid internship elements: 8:30 to 5:30 office hours, button down shirt (open collar though!), a small desk with stacks of papers and ball-point pens, and lunch breaks at the local café. Not so this summer. This sort of organization was not what I signed up for, and its certainly not what Im getting! The roads are such a fantastic example: cars darting back and forth in between broken down trucks, fearless motorcyclist (there are TONS here), over-loaded bikers and woman with more than I can imagine carrying effortlessly balanced on their heads. With all this, the roads mostly have no lines, are full of pot-holes or just uneven dirt, don't exactly have gutters to help with drainange and stop-lights are interpreted as friendly suggestions, rather than any sort of legal impediment.
Chaos in the way things are done at all different levels as well! Visas? Go through a hole in a wall (literally a hole in the wall) to find an unmarked office. Time? Ha! Meetings that start 2 hours late do not jive with me! Do people show up? Sometimes!
Again, adustment needed. There clearly are benefits of this timeless-ness. I havent seen anybody powerwalking down the streets of Farende with their head down, too busy to say hello and ask how I am doing because they are late for a meeting. They take the time to welcome you and invite you for a drink almost always.Where in the US we'd say (as I have many times before!) that I'd love to catch up with you or do X, Y or Z, but Im too "busy" or Im "late" for a meeting or I dont have the "time" today. In a chaotic, improvised culture, you allow yourself to be immersed in what you have around you, instead of running off to what might be. Ive actually come to realize that part of the problem is that I try to come on time, not thinking about the paradox that if two people are both 2 hours late for a meeting, they are actually both on time.
However, for getting stuff done, for having meetings to learn about development here, this is a pain. For the future of business and government here, this will be a problem. However, maybe it is possible for development to bring timeliness to these sectors, but leave us the time to make time for those around us. Being late always makes me think about my much beloved who is unfortunately not with us any more, Eve Carson. She gave you a 120 percent of her soul when she was with you, but she was always horribly late. Thinking about the concept of being late doesnt usually make me smile; but it does in this case.
But yes! Adjustments! Adjustments that are temporary, but ones that are helping me digest the way I live my life no matter where I am. This is why I love travel!
Until next time,
Alex
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Lome!
Lome, Togo's capital and largest city, is unlike any other African capital I've been to. It is very poor and lacking even the very beginnings of a tourist trade. Yet it also has the charmingly unpolished nature about it. That is - and this is going to sound harsh - but when you're in a place that is trying so hard to pretty up things for western tourists (e.g Cape Town, South Africa), the pot-holes and shanty towns hit you hard: you realize the stark contrast between the haves and have-nots.
Lome, on the other hand, has few pretenses (or more like the ability to maintain pretenses) about being a tourism hot spot. There are a couple nice hotels and fancier restaurants, but they are poorly kept up and are not much to look at. Lome does not have the fancy well-kept districts you see elsewhere. And it's a good thing because there are very few ex-pats here and even fewer tourists to go there. I certainly felt out of place as a white person elsewhere in Africa, but seldom have I been so scarce. Oddly, this gives the city a type of charm: people are living their lives not for this lack of tourist economy but completely in spite of it. I don't know if this is a good thing for me to feel, but the fact that there isn't a whole lot of outside wealth coming in and surrounding the poverty actually let's me forget my white/liberal/western guilt just a little bit more.
The culture of street vendors seems to also reflect the lack of outside money. In the Cape Towns and Rabats of the world, the street vendors eye-in on the tourists to sell their various trinkets and souvenirs. In Lome, the vendors don't sell Togolese masks or carvings, but simple commodities. Whether you are stopped at a traffic light, walking into the supermarket or just strolling around the market, you will see scores of people selling everything from boxes of kleenex to Chinese made belts to mangoes (yes, delicious!). It becomes clear that none of these men or woman is trying to climb the economic ladder and start a business. They are simply trying to make ends meet. And while I am singled out as a "Yovo" or white person quite readily in these situations, it is usually not to try to sell me something or even if it is to sell me a phone card or something else, they do this just as they would sell it to a Togolais.
The way food is ordered at local restaurants is another particularity of Lome, one that seems to borrows from this type of subsistence history. At most places around the world, you order the quantity of food you want - a medium fry, a 1/4 chicken etc. - and you pay the price associated with that amount. However, the local restaurants here flip that around: you tell them how much money's worth of something you want and they give you whatever quantity that is. True, prices don't change too much and people tend to know how much 500 CFAs of something is, however the idea of having a fixed income and letting your appetite be satisfied is certainly not something I am used to. I can't imagine going to an Italian place and asing for $5.64 worth of pasta.
With these examples, I don't want to paint too dire a picture of Lome. It has beautiful beaches. The people are super friendly. The food is delicious. bOne of the great things about not having many tourists is that it is very safe, even downtown in the big market. But, I can't help think the most striking part is that the capital - the largest and supposedly most developed part of tihs country - is stuck in the past. . Looking across the dusty, pot-hole-ridden streets and being amazed by friendliness of those who come off them, I wonder what the prospects are for Togo.
Tomorrow I head back up north to Farende, finally. I should have a good chance to explore this next week and will get back to y'all with my take in a week.
Until then!
Alex
Lome, on the other hand, has few pretenses (or more like the ability to maintain pretenses) about being a tourism hot spot. There are a couple nice hotels and fancier restaurants, but they are poorly kept up and are not much to look at. Lome does not have the fancy well-kept districts you see elsewhere. And it's a good thing because there are very few ex-pats here and even fewer tourists to go there. I certainly felt out of place as a white person elsewhere in Africa, but seldom have I been so scarce. Oddly, this gives the city a type of charm: people are living their lives not for this lack of tourist economy but completely in spite of it. I don't know if this is a good thing for me to feel, but the fact that there isn't a whole lot of outside wealth coming in and surrounding the poverty actually let's me forget my white/liberal/western guilt just a little bit more.
The culture of street vendors seems to also reflect the lack of outside money. In the Cape Towns and Rabats of the world, the street vendors eye-in on the tourists to sell their various trinkets and souvenirs. In Lome, the vendors don't sell Togolese masks or carvings, but simple commodities. Whether you are stopped at a traffic light, walking into the supermarket or just strolling around the market, you will see scores of people selling everything from boxes of kleenex to Chinese made belts to mangoes (yes, delicious!). It becomes clear that none of these men or woman is trying to climb the economic ladder and start a business. They are simply trying to make ends meet. And while I am singled out as a "Yovo" or white person quite readily in these situations, it is usually not to try to sell me something or even if it is to sell me a phone card or something else, they do this just as they would sell it to a Togolais.
The way food is ordered at local restaurants is another particularity of Lome, one that seems to borrows from this type of subsistence history. At most places around the world, you order the quantity of food you want - a medium fry, a 1/4 chicken etc. - and you pay the price associated with that amount. However, the local restaurants here flip that around: you tell them how much money's worth of something you want and they give you whatever quantity that is. True, prices don't change too much and people tend to know how much 500 CFAs of something is, however the idea of having a fixed income and letting your appetite be satisfied is certainly not something I am used to. I can't imagine going to an Italian place and asing for $5.64 worth of pasta.
With these examples, I don't want to paint too dire a picture of Lome. It has beautiful beaches. The people are super friendly. The food is delicious. bOne of the great things about not having many tourists is that it is very safe, even downtown in the big market. But, I can't help think the most striking part is that the capital - the largest and supposedly most developed part of tihs country - is stuck in the past. . Looking across the dusty, pot-hole-ridden streets and being amazed by friendliness of those who come off them, I wonder what the prospects are for Togo.
Tomorrow I head back up north to Farende, finally. I should have a good chance to explore this next week and will get back to y'all with my take in a week.
Until then!
Alex
Friday, June 19, 2009
Whew...
So, I apologize for being out of touch for so long. However, in my defense, I was a little busy testing out the ins and outs of the Togolese health care from Mountain, to village to city. That is, I had a bit of an accident.
Do not fear, I am OK. Well my pride is a bit shot, but luckily I have plenty of that. Anyway, this is what happened...
Last Wednesday the 10th we (two other Duke in Togo students and my amazing friend David Fiocco who was dropping by to visit me Togo on his way from Sierra Leone to Uganda and the professor who is leading the trip, Charlie Piot) headed up North to begin our work up there for the summer. After the 6 hour drive on often-nice roads, we got to the mountain village of Kude where we would be spending the first night. This community welcomed us with open arms, local beer and a ceremonially killed chicken (apparently they like it when the chicken flails about after its throat has been cut...)
The night was coming to an end after a good meal as we were sitting around a small table at a dimly lit, rocky homestead. I had to go to the bathroom, which meant finding a suitable patch of dirt on the mountain-top. As I got up to make this happen, stepping over my friend, I suddenly felt a little light in the head. I stumbled up against the wall and regained my balance, but not for long.
The next thing I remember is waking up lying with my eyes shut, hearing people talking around me. I was cold, shivering actually. I had lost consciousness after that brief stumble, and fallen across the homestead, down two steps, forehead flat against the stone ground. My eyes were shut because of the swelling of that impact and my head hurt. But, the medical assistant from the clinic, who I had met on my way up the mountain was called and I was taken good care of. The cuts and swelling weren't (and still aren't) pretty, but I will survive. I spent a few days in my homestay recovering (this was their introduction to me) before heading back to Lome for some tests. The results were good, no brain damage but a little bit of a fracture and some blood in my sinus; nothing time shouldn't be able to heal I'm hoping to get back to the village early next week and really begin this trip.
It was a, if you will, rocky start to my summer and I am deeply looking forward to getting back on track. However, a silver lining was the chance to look at the health care of Togo at a few different levels. My cuts were cleaned and bandaged a few times up in rural Farende. The medical assistant was firm, very firm, but fair, making sure - with some elbow grease and tough love - that my cuts were clean. I probably could have used a couple stitches, but this wasn't in the cards. They gave me antibiotics and something for the pain and they refused to take any money for me for helping me. No infection to-date, so bravo.
The CT scan and EEG scan in Lome were brief and to the point. The facillities weren't fancy but were more than adequate. I was excited to see that the waiting room had some Togolese newpapers. Turns out there were two years old, but this didn't seem to matter - news included "President of Togo visits soccer match." This hospital, on the other hand, was happy to take my money.
Certainly an adventure but, hopefuly a one-off. I am currently resting up in Lome, the capital, which is an interesting city. More to come on that soon!
Hope you all are well!
Alex
Do not fear, I am OK. Well my pride is a bit shot, but luckily I have plenty of that. Anyway, this is what happened...
Last Wednesday the 10th we (two other Duke in Togo students and my amazing friend David Fiocco who was dropping by to visit me Togo on his way from Sierra Leone to Uganda and the professor who is leading the trip, Charlie Piot) headed up North to begin our work up there for the summer. After the 6 hour drive on often-nice roads, we got to the mountain village of Kude where we would be spending the first night. This community welcomed us with open arms, local beer and a ceremonially killed chicken (apparently they like it when the chicken flails about after its throat has been cut...)
The night was coming to an end after a good meal as we were sitting around a small table at a dimly lit, rocky homestead. I had to go to the bathroom, which meant finding a suitable patch of dirt on the mountain-top. As I got up to make this happen, stepping over my friend, I suddenly felt a little light in the head. I stumbled up against the wall and regained my balance, but not for long.
The next thing I remember is waking up lying with my eyes shut, hearing people talking around me. I was cold, shivering actually. I had lost consciousness after that brief stumble, and fallen across the homestead, down two steps, forehead flat against the stone ground. My eyes were shut because of the swelling of that impact and my head hurt. But, the medical assistant from the clinic, who I had met on my way up the mountain was called and I was taken good care of. The cuts and swelling weren't (and still aren't) pretty, but I will survive. I spent a few days in my homestay recovering (this was their introduction to me) before heading back to Lome for some tests. The results were good, no brain damage but a little bit of a fracture and some blood in my sinus; nothing time shouldn't be able to heal I'm hoping to get back to the village early next week and really begin this trip.
It was a, if you will, rocky start to my summer and I am deeply looking forward to getting back on track. However, a silver lining was the chance to look at the health care of Togo at a few different levels. My cuts were cleaned and bandaged a few times up in rural Farende. The medical assistant was firm, very firm, but fair, making sure - with some elbow grease and tough love - that my cuts were clean. I probably could have used a couple stitches, but this wasn't in the cards. They gave me antibiotics and something for the pain and they refused to take any money for me for helping me. No infection to-date, so bravo.
The CT scan and EEG scan in Lome were brief and to the point. The facillities weren't fancy but were more than adequate. I was excited to see that the waiting room had some Togolese newpapers. Turns out there were two years old, but this didn't seem to matter - news included "President of Togo visits soccer match." This hospital, on the other hand, was happy to take my money.
Certainly an adventure but, hopefuly a one-off. I am currently resting up in Lome, the capital, which is an interesting city. More to come on that soon!
Hope you all are well!
Alex
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
The Trip (Le Trajet)*
I like airports a lot. They are where random people are herded together like cattle, thought lines and various other holding pens. Unlike cattle - no disrespect to them - everyone in the airport has a story to tell. Wedding or funeral, vacation or visit, love or lounging. While so many situations put us around these people (say buses & elevators), fewer are the ones that give us the right framework to start up a conversation with a stranger. Waiting for the flight you are both taking, or stuck next to someone as the plane idles on the tarmac. I was reminded of this as the airport was the start to my adventure this summer.
On my way to Togo, I planned a couple little escales (stopovers) in Morocco and New York since my first flight left through JFK and took me through Casablanca en route. NYC was great - stayed with my good friend Noaufel and enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city as I saw some of my other friends camped out there.
Then, I headed to Rabat, via Casablanca, to see my old stomping grounds (see blog posts below fron 2007!) and a couple of my friends who are from there. My plan was to get into Casa and hop on a train to Rabat. Easy enough, right? That would soon change.
As I sat strategically placed on the floor with my back to a column that happend to have an outlet in JFK airport , charging my iphone like the consummate travelling Gen Yer, a middle-aged woman wearing a Hijab asked for my help in broken English. She was in way over her head, travelling by herself with three kids under four including an infant and a bunch of bags. It turned out to be a facsinating story. She was a winner of the green card lottery a few years ago who lives in upstate NY with her husband and 3 kids. However, for some reason her husband couldnt join her green card so he is in the US illegally. So, she was travelling to visit her family with her kids for the first time in 4 years by herself because if her husband left he couldn't return. But, my goodness, was it a tough trip for her - what a saint! An infant on her back and a 3 and 5 year old scampering around. Through security, baggage claim, lines everywhere...a very courageous woman!
Anyway, to her question I responded in similarly imperfect French, telling her I'd be happy to help, having no idea where this would lead me. It turns out her family in Morocco lives in Rabat. As she found out my destination, in typically Moroccan fashion she offered me a ride. I hestitated at first knowing how much stuff she had but she strongly insisted. So, we arrived in Casa and we embarked on the drive to her house. But the kindess did not stop. Not only was I given the front seat on the drive, I was welcomed as the guest of honor even as her family had not seen her for 4 years. They served me a full meal of prune and beef tagine, couscous (it was friday, the day when everyone in Morocco has couscous), salad and some delicious, very sweet carrot juice.
One gesture that showed this generosity concerned the TV. Upon my arrival they showed me to their modest apartment and into the TV room. Of course they had satellite TV so the grandfather of the kids flipped on the TV and surfed over to France 24 in English. Surprised, I told him that I didn't know he spoke English. Turns out he doesn't, he put that on just for me, some stranger who he met an hour ago.
But it is this attitude of genorosity that I've found throughout the developing world on my travels and it continues in Togo. I arrived a couple days ago and my next post will be about my arrival to Lome (hopefully with pictures!), so keep tuned, but the first and most salient thing as I try to process the sights and sounds and put pen to paper about them has been this openness of spirit and friendliness. It really has me in awe just how willing people are to be just plain nice to you, the stranger. I know most people say that about the places they visit, especially those off the beaten track, but I want to find out whatùs in the water here (in the best of the expression)! Until next time!
*I'm loving working on my French so my apologies in advance for the French words that will sully this blog!
On my way to Togo, I planned a couple little escales (stopovers) in Morocco and New York since my first flight left through JFK and took me through Casablanca en route. NYC was great - stayed with my good friend Noaufel and enjoyed the hustle and bustle of the city as I saw some of my other friends camped out there.
Then, I headed to Rabat, via Casablanca, to see my old stomping grounds (see blog posts below fron 2007!) and a couple of my friends who are from there. My plan was to get into Casa and hop on a train to Rabat. Easy enough, right? That would soon change.
As I sat strategically placed on the floor with my back to a column that happend to have an outlet in JFK airport , charging my iphone like the consummate travelling Gen Yer, a middle-aged woman wearing a Hijab asked for my help in broken English. She was in way over her head, travelling by herself with three kids under four including an infant and a bunch of bags. It turned out to be a facsinating story. She was a winner of the green card lottery a few years ago who lives in upstate NY with her husband and 3 kids. However, for some reason her husband couldnt join her green card so he is in the US illegally. So, she was travelling to visit her family with her kids for the first time in 4 years by herself because if her husband left he couldn't return. But, my goodness, was it a tough trip for her - what a saint! An infant on her back and a 3 and 5 year old scampering around. Through security, baggage claim, lines everywhere...a very courageous woman!
Anyway, to her question I responded in similarly imperfect French, telling her I'd be happy to help, having no idea where this would lead me. It turns out her family in Morocco lives in Rabat. As she found out my destination, in typically Moroccan fashion she offered me a ride. I hestitated at first knowing how much stuff she had but she strongly insisted. So, we arrived in Casa and we embarked on the drive to her house. But the kindess did not stop. Not only was I given the front seat on the drive, I was welcomed as the guest of honor even as her family had not seen her for 4 years. They served me a full meal of prune and beef tagine, couscous (it was friday, the day when everyone in Morocco has couscous), salad and some delicious, very sweet carrot juice.
One gesture that showed this generosity concerned the TV. Upon my arrival they showed me to their modest apartment and into the TV room. Of course they had satellite TV so the grandfather of the kids flipped on the TV and surfed over to France 24 in English. Surprised, I told him that I didn't know he spoke English. Turns out he doesn't, he put that on just for me, some stranger who he met an hour ago.
But it is this attitude of genorosity that I've found throughout the developing world on my travels and it continues in Togo. I arrived a couple days ago and my next post will be about my arrival to Lome (hopefully with pictures!), so keep tuned, but the first and most salient thing as I try to process the sights and sounds and put pen to paper about them has been this openness of spirit and friendliness. It really has me in awe just how willing people are to be just plain nice to you, the stranger. I know most people say that about the places they visit, especially those off the beaten track, but I want to find out whatùs in the water here (in the best of the expression)! Until next time!
*I'm loving working on my French so my apologies in advance for the French words that will sully this blog!
Monday, June 08, 2009
Le Togo
Hi again! So after two years of nothing interesting happening in my life, I will be blogging again this year as I explore Togo! I had the opportunity this summer to go anywhere in the world and do something for my personal development. Pretty neat, huh?
Overwhelmed by this choice, I decided to go somewhere in francophone West Africa and try to investigate grassroots democracy there. As luck would have it, I happen to stumble across the Duke in Togo Program through a good friend of mine, Meggie Staffiera, and it sounded like a great opportunity. If you're anything like me, you are asking yourself "where the hell is Togo?" Well check out this map.
So, this summer I will be spending most of the time in a small village in the north called Farende. I will spend the first couple weeks getting a lay of the lan' but then it is likely that I will help further develop a local tax system to provide for some of the public goods in this villlage (think latrine at marketplace, fix roads etc). As a poli sci major at UNC who is about to start at Georgetown's MSFS program where I will get a 2 year MA focusing on international development and someone who is interested in promoting and improving democracy this will be a great adventure (read: crash course) in rural life and community organizing there!
So, keep posted and I really do appreciate comments (I will be oh so lonely!) so don't be shy!
Au revoir!
Alex
Overwhelmed by this choice, I decided to go somewhere in francophone West Africa and try to investigate grassroots democracy there. As luck would have it, I happen to stumble across the Duke in Togo Program through a good friend of mine, Meggie Staffiera, and it sounded like a great opportunity. If you're anything like me, you are asking yourself "where the hell is Togo?" Well check out this map.
So, this summer I will be spending most of the time in a small village in the north called Farende. I will spend the first couple weeks getting a lay of the lan' but then it is likely that I will help further develop a local tax system to provide for some of the public goods in this villlage (think latrine at marketplace, fix roads etc). As a poli sci major at UNC who is about to start at Georgetown's MSFS program where I will get a 2 year MA focusing on international development and someone who is interested in promoting and improving democracy this will be a great adventure (read: crash course) in rural life and community organizing there!
So, keep posted and I really do appreciate comments (I will be oh so lonely!) so don't be shy!
Au revoir!
Alex
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