The Importance of Being Earnest
4 years ago
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Monday, December 6, 2010
A journey home
Down four steps, the asphalt is still damp from the midday showers. The air is cool, but humid as the sun begins its decent. Pedaling out the gate, barefoot villagers pass carrying loads of firewood off the plateau balanced on their heads; men, women and children. The load varies accordingly, though they are all carrying more than one would deem possible for the length of their journey. Down the hill, soldiers wait idly by the road to have their turn at driving the lorry around the bend and up the hill. The large ‘L’ warning all that they should be given wide berth as they learn to take the corner. Passing over the drainage ditch, which has suffered heavily under the weight of the attempts gone wrong, I enter into a world of green growth. All matter of plants, urged on by the heavy rains, have begun their upward exploration is search of sunlight. Men swinging machetes respond with accuracy gained over a lifetime. The single track down across the bridges is dark brown with hints of glittery quartz. It shimmers as I glide quickly over the hills and down towards the stream. With the clambering of loosely nailed boards I fly over the stream and start to pedal again up the far side. The red bricks of the cathedral and the fresh green growth give a hint of Christmas as the temperature hovers around 80 degrees. Emerging from the green, the traffic rushes by in three directions. Taking the fourth, I continue downward. It is a long and steady descent from here which takes me past university students walking in pairs of two and three. The asphalt comes to an end, but my journey continues. Here the rich brown soil, cultivated into rows like corrugated tin roofs, gives life to future nsima paddies, and the road begins to show signs of the heavy rain, exposing rock and creating ditches. The plateau off to the left stands proud as magnificent clouds approaching from the southeast catch colorful rays of light. Rounding the corner, I slow, responding to the children. Mzungu bo!?! Bo, bo! Close now, their bright eyes and warm smiles regain the dignity lost to their dirty, hole-ridden clothes and lack of shoes. Riding past every day for six months now has only served to encourage their curiosity as they run along shouting greetings in English learned from an older sibling. Weaving through an unplanned community, I arrive to the grid like streets of Matawale. A right turn, followed by a quick left brings familiar faces calling out my name. Always the same: How are you? I am fine. How are you? I am fine. Thank you. Thank you. The green gate and tree laden with avocados signals the end of the journey home. In fifteen minutes, an experience, lived over and again, can prove to be as calming and mundane as it can a source of unexpected inspiration.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
World AIDS Day
Today I co-facilitated a community dialogue with the faith community of Zomba City. We had Catholics, Baptists, Seventh Day Adventists, Muslims, Protestants and several other small denominations all in the same room to discuss the response to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. After introducing them to the concept of a community dialogue, we asked them to share their beliefs with the group related to human rights and HIV prevention, treatment, care & support and impact mitigation.
Allowing them to express their beliefs in an informative way, rather than a preachy way, we were able to go around the room and hear from everyone. With attention paid to the differences, but emphasis placed on the similarities, we were able to come out with an action plan that includes teaching religious tolerance, accepting people living with HIV/AIDS and continuing the dialogue by inviting additional denominations to the discussions. And that was just my morning…
After returning to the office to write some emails and prepare for my sessions with the new volunteers, I was called upon to teach an employee how to properly use a condom. This is not really within my scope of work, however our AIDS Coordinator was still out at her community dialogue session and I learned from my colleague that the gentleman was HIV positive and his wife was not. He came into the main office today, World AIDS Day, because his CD4 count was falling and he was afraid that his wife would become infected. Since his diagnosis nearly three years ago they have been practicing partial abstinence, but his failing health forced him to consider using condoms and to request food supplements from the city to help him recover.
As I taught this young guy how to put on a condom, I was struck by how unfair life can be. Here is a guy younger than I contemplating his actions and his death. I could see it in his eyes. He was scared and I was scared for him. As my colleague translated what I was saying, I had brief moments to reflect on my own life, on my own worries. Me, concerned about finding someone to love, versus him, concerned that his love will die because of him. I am telling you I could see this in his eyes, in how he held himself. It is a moment that I will not forget and one that will serve to humble me.
Allowing them to express their beliefs in an informative way, rather than a preachy way, we were able to go around the room and hear from everyone. With attention paid to the differences, but emphasis placed on the similarities, we were able to come out with an action plan that includes teaching religious tolerance, accepting people living with HIV/AIDS and continuing the dialogue by inviting additional denominations to the discussions. And that was just my morning…
After returning to the office to write some emails and prepare for my sessions with the new volunteers, I was called upon to teach an employee how to properly use a condom. This is not really within my scope of work, however our AIDS Coordinator was still out at her community dialogue session and I learned from my colleague that the gentleman was HIV positive and his wife was not. He came into the main office today, World AIDS Day, because his CD4 count was falling and he was afraid that his wife would become infected. Since his diagnosis nearly three years ago they have been practicing partial abstinence, but his failing health forced him to consider using condoms and to request food supplements from the city to help him recover.
As I taught this young guy how to put on a condom, I was struck by how unfair life can be. Here is a guy younger than I contemplating his actions and his death. I could see it in his eyes. He was scared and I was scared for him. As my colleague translated what I was saying, I had brief moments to reflect on my own life, on my own worries. Me, concerned about finding someone to love, versus him, concerned that his love will die because of him. I am telling you I could see this in his eyes, in how he held himself. It is a moment that I will not forget and one that will serve to humble me.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
misplaced nostalgia
A song comes on that reminds me of my life in Washington DC. I think back to the time I spent in that city, the first big city that I lived in. I try hard to picture the streets, to see my daily sights, to remember my life as it was in that city. It strikes me that my home is here in Zomba now, as thoughts of the glowing street lights, driving on the right, the Giant supermarket in Columbia Heights, and being surrounded by Americans and Latinos seem so foreign in comparison to the dusty roads, the banana trees, the ad hoc markets and being a muzungu (white person) in Africa.
The feeling of a misplaced nostalgia is not new to me. My time in New Zealand and then in Bolivia elicited similar feelings. I think back to my life as it used to be, longing for something or—more pressingly—someone, I idealize those moments, yearning for them only to realize that my place is here now. I am at the same time content and frustrated. There is sacrifice in moving across the world, but yet there is also a gain in perspective and the opportunity to live anew without fear or hesitation. Experience encourages me to keep moving forward with a willingness to venture in new directions and explore new thoughts and emotions. I grasp tightly onto the manner in which I have learned to live my life, embracing all that surrounds me, and continue searching for that next place, the next lesson and perhaps someone with whom to share it.
The feeling of a misplaced nostalgia is not new to me. My time in New Zealand and then in Bolivia elicited similar feelings. I think back to my life as it used to be, longing for something or—more pressingly—someone, I idealize those moments, yearning for them only to realize that my place is here now. I am at the same time content and frustrated. There is sacrifice in moving across the world, but yet there is also a gain in perspective and the opportunity to live anew without fear or hesitation. Experience encourages me to keep moving forward with a willingness to venture in new directions and explore new thoughts and emotions. I grasp tightly onto the manner in which I have learned to live my life, embracing all that surrounds me, and continue searching for that next place, the next lesson and perhaps someone with whom to share it.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Those who do more than endure
Yesterday I spent the day out in the community. The National Association of People Living with HIV/AIDS in Malawi (NAPHAM) was in town with their drama group and they performed at two community-based organizations that provide HIV/AIDS services. It was a long day for me as the events were conducted in Chichewa making it difficult for me to follow along. However, it gave me ample opportunity to think about what I should write about next.
On the way out to the first community we passed by a funeral, seen from the branches laid across the road to alert those passing so they can slow down and show respect for the dead. The driver of the bus slowed accordingly and softened the radio, which temporally dampened the joyous mood of the actors on board. Once we passed over the second strip of branches the music was revived and the volume of conversation quickly rose.
As we were watching the first performance, I was struck by a small boy with a distended belly and blondish hair–familiar signs of malnutrition–who through hazy eyes knelt down near me, placed his forearms on the ground for his head to rest on and quickly fell asleep.
Both of these stories partially describe my experience here. They serve to illustrate the depth of poverty which embraces much of Malawi. However, these stories in isolation do not do justice to the people that endure them on a daily basis. For they are strong enough to bare the constant loss and the pains of hunger without losing their startling ability to warm your heart with a glowing smile and kind eyes. The bus rolled on to a vibrant performance and the small boy got up to go off and play with his little friends.
This strength of character did not escape the drama group. With their play, they walked down the path of HIV infection and the saddening stigma experienced by so many. And with tears in their eyes and frowns covering their faces, they would explode into radiant smiles with the tears still running down their faces to a wave of laughter and applause from the audience. Quickly as it came the smile would disappear into a look of confusion and fear as the actor lashed out at his wife or neighbor. The dramas were roller coasters of emotion that cleverly illuminated the lives of their audience in a way that encouraged acceptance and coexistence. For me they were a reminder to write of more than the ugly and strange face of poverty, to acknowledge those who do more than endure.
On the way out to the first community we passed by a funeral, seen from the branches laid across the road to alert those passing so they can slow down and show respect for the dead. The driver of the bus slowed accordingly and softened the radio, which temporally dampened the joyous mood of the actors on board. Once we passed over the second strip of branches the music was revived and the volume of conversation quickly rose.
As we were watching the first performance, I was struck by a small boy with a distended belly and blondish hair–familiar signs of malnutrition–who through hazy eyes knelt down near me, placed his forearms on the ground for his head to rest on and quickly fell asleep.
Both of these stories partially describe my experience here. They serve to illustrate the depth of poverty which embraces much of Malawi. However, these stories in isolation do not do justice to the people that endure them on a daily basis. For they are strong enough to bare the constant loss and the pains of hunger without losing their startling ability to warm your heart with a glowing smile and kind eyes. The bus rolled on to a vibrant performance and the small boy got up to go off and play with his little friends.
This strength of character did not escape the drama group. With their play, they walked down the path of HIV infection and the saddening stigma experienced by so many. And with tears in their eyes and frowns covering their faces, they would explode into radiant smiles with the tears still running down their faces to a wave of laughter and applause from the audience. Quickly as it came the smile would disappear into a look of confusion and fear as the actor lashed out at his wife or neighbor. The dramas were roller coasters of emotion that cleverly illuminated the lives of their audience in a way that encouraged acceptance and coexistence. For me they were a reminder to write of more than the ugly and strange face of poverty, to acknowledge those who do more than endure.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Ice Cream and Frozen Pizzas
When I get frustrated and have an internet connection, I go to craigslist and search for used motorcycles in the Washington DC area. The other day I found a black 2002 BMW R1150R with 40K for $4500. It was almost too much to take, the thought of such a beautiful and powerful bike on the back roads of Virginia, free of goats and bicycles overloaded with charcoal swerving back and forth. It is fall now back home. The leaves must be changing colors and nothing sounds more appealing than a ride through the hills.
I am at that point in time when trip back to the US sounds very appealing. Work is going well, but it is the hot season and with the humidity at almost 100%, I sit in my office at 8am and begin to sweat. This time of year I can understand why things move slowly here. With your clothes sticking to you and your bug bites itchy, thoughts can quickly slip from urban health indicators and the procedures to collect them to a cold drink in the early evening with friends back home. Air conditioning, good restaurants and even supermarkets make for exciting thoughts. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy to be here, but a short hiatus back to the land of ice cream and frozen pizzas sure is tempting.
They tell me that as the rains start the temperature will fall. So I will keep taking my three cold showers a day and make frequent trips to the swimming pool to deal with the heat. And I am adjusting my work schedule and my expectations to get the important tasks done and follow them up with siestas in the shade. Writing this blog is the first of those tasks today, so I am off to the shade!
I am at that point in time when trip back to the US sounds very appealing. Work is going well, but it is the hot season and with the humidity at almost 100%, I sit in my office at 8am and begin to sweat. This time of year I can understand why things move slowly here. With your clothes sticking to you and your bug bites itchy, thoughts can quickly slip from urban health indicators and the procedures to collect them to a cold drink in the early evening with friends back home. Air conditioning, good restaurants and even supermarkets make for exciting thoughts. Don’t get me wrong, I am happy to be here, but a short hiatus back to the land of ice cream and frozen pizzas sure is tempting.
They tell me that as the rains start the temperature will fall. So I will keep taking my three cold showers a day and make frequent trips to the swimming pool to deal with the heat. And I am adjusting my work schedule and my expectations to get the important tasks done and follow them up with siestas in the shade. Writing this blog is the first of those tasks today, so I am off to the shade!
Friday, October 29, 2010
Palibe Petrol
After a busy and hot week in Lilongwe I woke up anxious to return to Zomba for a relaxing weekend. Then I heard the dreaded words "palibe petrol" (there is no petrol). My ride back to Zomba was in a petrol car, so my plans have changed. I will wait until tomorrow when there is another car heading south that runs on diesel.
Malawi has been experiencing petrol and diesel shortages for the past few months. Added to the electricity blackouts that are occurring almost daily (there is a hum in the background as I type this, a generator running to supply power to the office), it is evident that Malawi is in an energy crisis.
What does that mean for development? Just like my trip back to the south, it is delayed, opportunities are lost and people are frustrated.
Malawi has been experiencing petrol and diesel shortages for the past few months. Added to the electricity blackouts that are occurring almost daily (there is a hum in the background as I type this, a generator running to supply power to the office), it is evident that Malawi is in an energy crisis.
What does that mean for development? Just like my trip back to the south, it is delayed, opportunities are lost and people are frustrated.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Dark Star Safari
I have been reading the book Dark Star Safari by Paul Theroux for over three months now. Theroux was a Peace Corps volunteer here in Malawi during the 60’s, the final years of the British Protectorate. In the book he is documenting his present day travels from Cairo to Cape Town.
Each morning as I wait for my ride to the office, I sit on my front porch, read a few pages and reflect. Theroux is traveling mostly over land to experience Africa some forty years after serving as a teacher in a school near Zomba. His writing is highly critical of both the “agents of virtue” and the state of African development. Constantly questioning the charities running feeding programs and even the work of foreign teachers, he contrasts his memories to current realities, being disappointed by the resulting conclusion that things are worse now than they were then.
As a Peace Corps volunteer, it is not a cheery read. Theroux, turning 60 during his long safari south, is a man torn by his compassion for the continent’s people and his frustrated desire to see things improve. I struggle with his grim assessments and find myself comparing myself to those in his writing. Will what I am doing last? Or is what I am doing further stunting the development of an independent and productive Africa? And on a more personal level, will my compassion only lead to a frustrated and bitter life?
Professionally, it is my responsibility to continue to ask these difficult questions, to evaluate my work with a critical eye. However, I often think that being who I am and having experienced what I have experienced, I have little choice but to continue. I see my happiness in the fleeting moments when I connect with those around me, in the discovery of new places and ideas and I see the contentment I seek which rests in the self acknowledgement of my earnest, if modest, efforts. Though I am uncertain of my impact, I am confident in my good intentions and that is the best that I can go on.
So as I read of a journey south through the heart of Africa, I open my mind and my soul. I listen to the criticisms and doubt. I acknowledge the potential for benefit or harm. Daily I live the pages of this book and share in the experiences of so many others making small steps towards a more just world.
Each morning as I wait for my ride to the office, I sit on my front porch, read a few pages and reflect. Theroux is traveling mostly over land to experience Africa some forty years after serving as a teacher in a school near Zomba. His writing is highly critical of both the “agents of virtue” and the state of African development. Constantly questioning the charities running feeding programs and even the work of foreign teachers, he contrasts his memories to current realities, being disappointed by the resulting conclusion that things are worse now than they were then.
As a Peace Corps volunteer, it is not a cheery read. Theroux, turning 60 during his long safari south, is a man torn by his compassion for the continent’s people and his frustrated desire to see things improve. I struggle with his grim assessments and find myself comparing myself to those in his writing. Will what I am doing last? Or is what I am doing further stunting the development of an independent and productive Africa? And on a more personal level, will my compassion only lead to a frustrated and bitter life?
Professionally, it is my responsibility to continue to ask these difficult questions, to evaluate my work with a critical eye. However, I often think that being who I am and having experienced what I have experienced, I have little choice but to continue. I see my happiness in the fleeting moments when I connect with those around me, in the discovery of new places and ideas and I see the contentment I seek which rests in the self acknowledgement of my earnest, if modest, efforts. Though I am uncertain of my impact, I am confident in my good intentions and that is the best that I can go on.
So as I read of a journey south through the heart of Africa, I open my mind and my soul. I listen to the criticisms and doubt. I acknowledge the potential for benefit or harm. Daily I live the pages of this book and share in the experiences of so many others making small steps towards a more just world.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Rabies
Why push for health systems strengthening? Because there are not enough Global Funds, PEPFARs and President’s Initiatives to support our vertical response to every preventable or treatable disease out there.
I am glad the readers of this blog probably have no use for the following information. I wish that were the case for everyone.
Rabies is a viral disease that causes acute encephalitis (inflammation of the brain) in warm-blooded animals. It is zoonotic (i.e., transmitted by animals), most commonly by a bite from an infected animal but occasionally by other forms of contact. Rabies is almost invariably fatal if post-exposure prophylaxis is not administered prior to the onset of severe symptoms.
The rabies virus travels to the brain by following the peripheral nerves. The incubation period of the disease is usually a few months in humans, depending on the distance the virus must travel to reach the central nervous system. Once the rabies virus reaches the central nervous system and symptoms begin to show, the infection is effectively untreatable and usually fatal within days.
Early-stage symptoms of rabies are malaise, headache and fever, progressing to acute pain, violent movements, uncontrolled excitement, depression, and hydrophobia. Finally, the patient may experience periods of mania and lethargy, eventually leading to coma. The primary cause of death is usually respiratory insufficiency.
Worldwide, the vast majority of human rabies cases (approximately 97%) come from dog bites. Rabies kills around 55,000 people a year, mostly in Asia and Africa.
Source: Wikipedia @ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabies
I am glad the readers of this blog probably have no use for the following information. I wish that were the case for everyone.
Rabies is a viral disease that causes acute encephalitis (inflammation of the brain) in warm-blooded animals. It is zoonotic (i.e., transmitted by animals), most commonly by a bite from an infected animal but occasionally by other forms of contact. Rabies is almost invariably fatal if post-exposure prophylaxis is not administered prior to the onset of severe symptoms.
The rabies virus travels to the brain by following the peripheral nerves. The incubation period of the disease is usually a few months in humans, depending on the distance the virus must travel to reach the central nervous system. Once the rabies virus reaches the central nervous system and symptoms begin to show, the infection is effectively untreatable and usually fatal within days.
Early-stage symptoms of rabies are malaise, headache and fever, progressing to acute pain, violent movements, uncontrolled excitement, depression, and hydrophobia. Finally, the patient may experience periods of mania and lethargy, eventually leading to coma. The primary cause of death is usually respiratory insufficiency.
Worldwide, the vast majority of human rabies cases (approximately 97%) come from dog bites. Rabies kills around 55,000 people a year, mostly in Asia and Africa.
Source: Wikipedia @ http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rabies
Grieving
Our differences are so apparent, often intriguing at other times infuriating, it is easy to overlook that they are far outweighed by our similarities. Today I looked into the eyes of another human being and saw them grieving the loss of a loved one. The empathy experienced created a bridge of mutual understanding which made all of our differences seem as they are, insignificant.
And then there was one.
I arrived to Malawi with two fellow volunteers. We actually met in the Johannesburg Airport boarding our flight to Malawi. Mike O. was coming from Albania where he had served in the Peace Corps and then worked for several years with World Vision International. Richard was coming from a freshly completed Peace Corps service in Botswana, where he was working as a district AIDS coordinator. We spent two and a half weeks in and around Lilongwe for an orientation then were sworn in as Peace Corps Response volunteers by the US ambassador. Richard and I headed south to our sites in Blantyre and Zomba. Mike O. headed to the west for his site in Mchinji.
Backing up a bit in the story, I was recruited by the Peace Corps to serve as a response volunteer in Malawi, a job I was happy to take because I wanted work experience in Africa on health systems strengthening projects. Peace Corps was recruiting for 10 response volunteers that they planned to spread out over Malawi in an attempt to support the response to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. They only got three. I chalk it up to a limited pool of qualified candidates and well let’s say life. If you have finished the Peace Corps and have a graduate degree, you are no spring chicken. What you are is in that middle ground between running around and settling down. Mike O. and Richard were already married and a few years older than me. It was clear that we were all looking for something.
Well, a week into our service, Richard flew back to the States for his home leave. Having come straight from Botswana, the Peace Corps gave him a month to go back and catch up with his family and friends before returning to work. After a little delay, we heard that he was not coming back. So then there were two.
Mike O. and I got along great. He is a light-hearted guy that is quick with a joke (that’s what she said, Mike) but who also has a serious hardworking side too. We were the two response volunteers in country, Mchinji Mike and Zomba Mike. We hung out a few times when we were both in Lilongwe for work or a wedding, and we sent text messages, emails and called back and forth a few times.
Unfortunately Mike’s counterpart was a dud and it was difficult for him to get anything moving. The first time around in Peace Corps this would be considered a very normal occurrence and a process of growth for the volunteer as they experienced how things can come to a halt despite our best efforts. As former Peace Corps volunteers, Mike had experienced this already and was not up for a repeat performance. I can’t blame him. As Peace Corps Response volunteers, we expect tangible work assignments and the resources to accomplish them. I got lucky, as in Zomba I found a motivated counterpart and quickly got funding. Mike made the best of his situation for a while, but then made the decision to go home, a decision that I fully support, though I am saddened to see him go.
And then there was one. As the sole survivor of Peace Corps Response Malawi, I have to ask myself what it is that I am doing here. I laugh to think about the old Army commercial’s slogan, An Army of One. In development work, nothing seems more ridiculous than a sole person—especially a foreigner—trying to move seemingly inert government employees and policies and improve the lives of so many. Development is a collaborative process beset with trials and errors. It is a learning process that thrives on communication and good will. And it is a process that needs to reach a critical mass or it will simply stop. As one volunteer, I have to face the fact that it is unlikely that my efforts alone will have a lasting impact on the health and well-being of Malawians.
I need not only to finish my work here in Zomba; I have also to ensure that it is scaled up across the other cities in Malawi. I have to make the case that the urban population’s growth is bringing with it new health and social challenges, and if the government of Malawi continues to neglect the health of its urban residents by supporting a poorly implemented decentralization of the Ministry of Health that favors rural service delivery, urban residents will suffer. My counterpart sees this and is working to change the current structure of health within the government. Peace Corps Malawi is also supporting my efforts to establish an urban M&E system for health, so that the cities can have a better understanding of the health of their residents. And of course we are lucky as there are only four major cities in Malawi, and there is a potential for placing new response volunteers in the other cities in an attempt to roll out the M&E system countrywide.
Will it work? I don’t know, but I am certain that I cannot do it alone. Peace Corps Malawi and the Government of Malawi will need to make substantial investments over the coming years to see this project to fruition. I only hope that I can set them rolling in the right direction.
Backing up a bit in the story, I was recruited by the Peace Corps to serve as a response volunteer in Malawi, a job I was happy to take because I wanted work experience in Africa on health systems strengthening projects. Peace Corps was recruiting for 10 response volunteers that they planned to spread out over Malawi in an attempt to support the response to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. They only got three. I chalk it up to a limited pool of qualified candidates and well let’s say life. If you have finished the Peace Corps and have a graduate degree, you are no spring chicken. What you are is in that middle ground between running around and settling down. Mike O. and Richard were already married and a few years older than me. It was clear that we were all looking for something.
Well, a week into our service, Richard flew back to the States for his home leave. Having come straight from Botswana, the Peace Corps gave him a month to go back and catch up with his family and friends before returning to work. After a little delay, we heard that he was not coming back. So then there were two.
Mike O. and I got along great. He is a light-hearted guy that is quick with a joke (that’s what she said, Mike) but who also has a serious hardworking side too. We were the two response volunteers in country, Mchinji Mike and Zomba Mike. We hung out a few times when we were both in Lilongwe for work or a wedding, and we sent text messages, emails and called back and forth a few times.
Unfortunately Mike’s counterpart was a dud and it was difficult for him to get anything moving. The first time around in Peace Corps this would be considered a very normal occurrence and a process of growth for the volunteer as they experienced how things can come to a halt despite our best efforts. As former Peace Corps volunteers, Mike had experienced this already and was not up for a repeat performance. I can’t blame him. As Peace Corps Response volunteers, we expect tangible work assignments and the resources to accomplish them. I got lucky, as in Zomba I found a motivated counterpart and quickly got funding. Mike made the best of his situation for a while, but then made the decision to go home, a decision that I fully support, though I am saddened to see him go.
And then there was one. As the sole survivor of Peace Corps Response Malawi, I have to ask myself what it is that I am doing here. I laugh to think about the old Army commercial’s slogan, An Army of One. In development work, nothing seems more ridiculous than a sole person—especially a foreigner—trying to move seemingly inert government employees and policies and improve the lives of so many. Development is a collaborative process beset with trials and errors. It is a learning process that thrives on communication and good will. And it is a process that needs to reach a critical mass or it will simply stop. As one volunteer, I have to face the fact that it is unlikely that my efforts alone will have a lasting impact on the health and well-being of Malawians.
I need not only to finish my work here in Zomba; I have also to ensure that it is scaled up across the other cities in Malawi. I have to make the case that the urban population’s growth is bringing with it new health and social challenges, and if the government of Malawi continues to neglect the health of its urban residents by supporting a poorly implemented decentralization of the Ministry of Health that favors rural service delivery, urban residents will suffer. My counterpart sees this and is working to change the current structure of health within the government. Peace Corps Malawi is also supporting my efforts to establish an urban M&E system for health, so that the cities can have a better understanding of the health of their residents. And of course we are lucky as there are only four major cities in Malawi, and there is a potential for placing new response volunteers in the other cities in an attempt to roll out the M&E system countrywide.
Will it work? I don’t know, but I am certain that I cannot do it alone. Peace Corps Malawi and the Government of Malawi will need to make substantial investments over the coming years to see this project to fruition. I only hope that I can set them rolling in the right direction.
Labor Intensive Development
There is a crew of men painting a center line down the main road that runs from Lilongwe down through Zomba and on to Blantyre. They have one pick-up truck with a large barrel of paint, some orange cones, paint brushes in varying states of wear, a length of string to make straight lines and small paint buckets made from an assortment of plastic containers. I have seen these same guys working for over a month now painting this one line—sometimes solid and sometimes dotted for passing zones—that stretches on for over 300km. When you see something like this it stands out in your mind and you think about how it is done back home. I think of a high-tech truck that can drive down the road cleaning the area with pressured air and then paint it with a spray-paint gun mounted on the back of the truck. This truck would have some flashing lights and drive at about 10 miles per hour, meaning that two or three guys could accomplish the work of 40 or so in two or three days instead of several months.
There are a lot of us that think sending a truck like this to Malawi would be a good development project. I can see the proposal now—roads painted faster and more accurately, more efficient use of paint, better paint retention time, less traffic obstruction, less risk for road workers, etc… All it would take is the one truck and we would send back reports each month on how many miles of roads have fresh lines to keep the drivers of Malawi safe. Until of course the truck needs maintenance or the spray-paint gun breaks and there are no parts for it in country. The cost of the truck, the shipping costs, the maintenance costs are negligible costs in terms of foreign aid, though combined they could probably pay the current crews wages for the next year. Employing Malawians to paint provides a steady income for the men who would otherwise be unemployed. All of their supplies are available locally and they can adjust their work schedule to the amount of funding annually available for road painting, unlike the high-tech truck which has high upfront costs.
So Malawians should say no to the high-tech paint truck right? Thank the donors for their good intentions but politely decline the assistance. Well, it doesn’t often work this way. Aid is political and often the beneficiaries in the proposal are not the only beneficiaries of the project. Government officials are inclined to keep saying ‘yes’ to aid projects, as those who decline are seen as difficult to work with and may miss the next round of handouts. And though the high-tech truck might not be a good development for the workers, modern equipment is seen as a sign of progress, a sign that the current political party is working for the people. To further complicate the issue, we might discover that the road workers, who were hired out of the capital city and have been living away from their families for months at a time, have a higher likelihood of contracting HIV and spreading it along the length of the main road—Lilongwe to Blantyre.
So do we like a high-tech solution or a labor intensive solution to paint lines? These are the often seemingly simple yet convolutedly complex decisions of development work. As for me, I say stick with the labor intensive method, but hire the men locally and spend a little more on training and safety. All of that to decide how to paint a line on a road, now let’s stop an HIV/AIDS epidemic…
There are a lot of us that think sending a truck like this to Malawi would be a good development project. I can see the proposal now—roads painted faster and more accurately, more efficient use of paint, better paint retention time, less traffic obstruction, less risk for road workers, etc… All it would take is the one truck and we would send back reports each month on how many miles of roads have fresh lines to keep the drivers of Malawi safe. Until of course the truck needs maintenance or the spray-paint gun breaks and there are no parts for it in country. The cost of the truck, the shipping costs, the maintenance costs are negligible costs in terms of foreign aid, though combined they could probably pay the current crews wages for the next year. Employing Malawians to paint provides a steady income for the men who would otherwise be unemployed. All of their supplies are available locally and they can adjust their work schedule to the amount of funding annually available for road painting, unlike the high-tech truck which has high upfront costs.
So Malawians should say no to the high-tech paint truck right? Thank the donors for their good intentions but politely decline the assistance. Well, it doesn’t often work this way. Aid is political and often the beneficiaries in the proposal are not the only beneficiaries of the project. Government officials are inclined to keep saying ‘yes’ to aid projects, as those who decline are seen as difficult to work with and may miss the next round of handouts. And though the high-tech truck might not be a good development for the workers, modern equipment is seen as a sign of progress, a sign that the current political party is working for the people. To further complicate the issue, we might discover that the road workers, who were hired out of the capital city and have been living away from their families for months at a time, have a higher likelihood of contracting HIV and spreading it along the length of the main road—Lilongwe to Blantyre.
So do we like a high-tech solution or a labor intensive solution to paint lines? These are the often seemingly simple yet convolutedly complex decisions of development work. As for me, I say stick with the labor intensive method, but hire the men locally and spend a little more on training and safety. All of that to decide how to paint a line on a road, now let’s stop an HIV/AIDS epidemic…
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Monday Morning
Monday morning rolls around. I wake up with two cups of coffee and head into the office. What to do this week? I have made my annual plan, my monthly plans, and each week I come up with a list of things to do. These plans help to keep me heading in one direction, but they are by no means day-to-day plans. You can’t force things here. It is a game of patience and diligence to accomplish anything. To know the right people, to approach them in the right way, to do so at the right time, and it often seems, to have a bit of luck; this is what it takes to check off each item on the list.
In a resource-starved environment often with under qualified though thoroughly networked staff, round about ways of accomplishing tasks develop that while being foreign to an outsider get the job done. When I get locked out of my office, there is not one person to go to. Instead I ask around until I find someone who happens to have the spare key to the room where the spare key to my office is located. When I am trying to obtain a copy of the reporting forms for health centers, I visit the health centers that refer me to the District Health Office then to the Zonal Health Office then to the central ministry and pick up an additional form or two at each place I visit.
Complicating things, at every step of the way there are three additional tasks that could be taken on. I am working to improve the coordination of the HIV/AIDS response in Zomba City by creating a monitoring and evaluation system that will collect key pieces of information from health providers in the city, which will be later used to make informed health programming decisions. However, right now we are not able to properly administer our bursary funds for orphan and vulnerable children meaning that there are children out there who could be in school but aren’t. We are not providing food supplements to city employees living with HIV which help them take their medications and retain their jobs. And sadly, I have just been informed that one of our secretaries, who has been cooking lunch for me since I arrived, has died from rabies after being bit by a dog this weekend. Apparently we need to revisit our rabies vaccination efforts as well.
In the face of it all, it is easy to understand how people can become demoralized. Some blows can take away your breath while others seem to deprive you of the air around you. However, day by day we make incremental steps towards a healthier Zomba City: by teaching an environmental health office how to use a GPS unit; by encouraging our data entry clerk to submit timely reports even to government agencies that are not cooperative with us; by incorporating rabies control efforts into our M&E system. Though they often do not appear in work plans and are difficult to measure and appreciate, they may be the most lasting efforts we make. They quite literally are the blood, sweat and tears of development.
In a resource-starved environment often with under qualified though thoroughly networked staff, round about ways of accomplishing tasks develop that while being foreign to an outsider get the job done. When I get locked out of my office, there is not one person to go to. Instead I ask around until I find someone who happens to have the spare key to the room where the spare key to my office is located. When I am trying to obtain a copy of the reporting forms for health centers, I visit the health centers that refer me to the District Health Office then to the Zonal Health Office then to the central ministry and pick up an additional form or two at each place I visit.
Complicating things, at every step of the way there are three additional tasks that could be taken on. I am working to improve the coordination of the HIV/AIDS response in Zomba City by creating a monitoring and evaluation system that will collect key pieces of information from health providers in the city, which will be later used to make informed health programming decisions. However, right now we are not able to properly administer our bursary funds for orphan and vulnerable children meaning that there are children out there who could be in school but aren’t. We are not providing food supplements to city employees living with HIV which help them take their medications and retain their jobs. And sadly, I have just been informed that one of our secretaries, who has been cooking lunch for me since I arrived, has died from rabies after being bit by a dog this weekend. Apparently we need to revisit our rabies vaccination efforts as well.
In the face of it all, it is easy to understand how people can become demoralized. Some blows can take away your breath while others seem to deprive you of the air around you. However, day by day we make incremental steps towards a healthier Zomba City: by teaching an environmental health office how to use a GPS unit; by encouraging our data entry clerk to submit timely reports even to government agencies that are not cooperative with us; by incorporating rabies control efforts into our M&E system. Though they often do not appear in work plans and are difficult to measure and appreciate, they may be the most lasting efforts we make. They quite literally are the blood, sweat and tears of development.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Zomba City Council's Website!
Check out the Zomba City Council's website. (where I am working as an HIV/AIDS Technical Advisor)(www.zombacitycouncil.org) It has some nice photos of the city and talks a little about the services that our office provides.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
Expat
“An expatriate (in abbreviated form, expat) is a person temporarily or permanently residing in a country and culture other than that of the person's upbringing or legal residence. The word comes from the Latin term expatriātus from ex ("out of") and patriā the ablative case of patria ("country, fatherland"). This "Latin" term comes from the Greek words "exo" meaning outside, and "patrida" meaning country or fatherland.” (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Expatriate)
Sunday, September 26, 2010
HIV/AIDS technical advisor
The position in subtle variations is so ubiquitous across this region of Africa that my coming blends in with the seemingly endless flow of HIV/AIDS programs and personnel. I have an office in the city government and liaise with the City AIDS Coordinator amongst many others. My principle assignment is basically to grasp the current extent of the HIV/AIDS response in the city, provide key indicators of its performance to the city government, and assist them in improving their coordination of the response.
An estimated 88,000 individuals reside within Zomba city, with a daytime population easily surpassing 100,000. 15 health facilities operate within the city boundaries, including a regional hospital, a mental hospital, and institutional hospitals and health centers at the police, prison and military campuses. 53 community based organizations are registered with the city government with mandates to provide social services, including HIV prevention, care and support, to city residents. The National AIDS Commission and countless NGOs have been implementing HIV/AIDS programming here for over a decade.
The national prevalence of HIV/AIDS is currently estimated to be 12%. Though the prevalence is thought to be even higher in the south of the country, where Zomba is located, with urban areas even more affected. Here prevalence rates are estimated as high as 18%, translating to nearly 1 in every 5 individuals living with HIV. The epidemic is generalized, affecting all groups, with women experiencing higher prevalence rates due to biological and socioeconomic determinants that increase their risk of acquiring HIV. There is no one here who has not been directly affected by the epidemic; the loss of loved ones, the risks of pregnancy, childhood and adolescents, the economic instability of a diminishing workforce. HIV/AIDS is omnipresent, an oppressive plight within the warm heart of Africa.
That said HIV/AIDS is an elusive evil, one that lies beneath the surface of the social fabric. It is a virus that suppresses the immune system of those infected; increasing susceptibility to opportunistic infections that can quickly erode quality of life, if left untreated. As such its outward expression is of a host of infections that lead to skin lesions, persistent coughing and wasting. Its acquisition is marred by the social taboo of discussing sexual practices that are tightly intertwined in the cultural and socioeconomic reality of those affected. In a society that values high parity and sees being overweight as a sign of success, HIV/AIDS brings shame on a family. Thus in difference to those infected and affected, HIV status is handled with discretion.
The burden is carried silently as those affected toil in the fields and markets. Nor is it the only hardship that must be endured. It is the latest and arguable the most deadly in a long line of diseases that compromise the health of African society. HIV/AIDS is also an addition to every other hardship that comes with living an impoverished life; the grueling physical labor, the uncertainty, the parade of material objects that are out of reach.
If poverty is an oppressive lack of information and options, HIV/AIDS exacerbates the situation; pushing the dreams of the young couple out of reach, robbing the old of their children and burdening them with more grandchildren then they are capable of caring for. In this context, it seems reasonable that the pain caused be gently hidden from view and a focus be given to family and more immediate challenges.
As treatment and care programs are being scaled up, people are living longer and speaking out. Gains are being made and Africans are learning to adapt in ways that not only ease the dangers of the current epidemic but also prepare them for future challenges. But the scars have been left on a generation of children that see the suffering and continuous funerals as the norm in a childhood devoid of choice and opportunity.
What does it all mean for an HIV/AIDS technical advisor? It means that daily I stare into the invisible eye of an injustice that is crippling those selling me bananas or kind enough to ask me how I am doing. Such a reality is enough to take your breath away. It is also a dilemma so large in its totality and complex in its composition that it can thwart the efforts of thousands of motivated and good intentioned individuals. On the best of days, it is an immense beach slowing being eroded by a tide that makes uneven passes at its miles of dense sand. At worst, it is completely out of reach, something visible but untouchable floating through space and time claiming those around you, frustrating your best efforts in strangling it before it can claim another life.
An estimated 88,000 individuals reside within Zomba city, with a daytime population easily surpassing 100,000. 15 health facilities operate within the city boundaries, including a regional hospital, a mental hospital, and institutional hospitals and health centers at the police, prison and military campuses. 53 community based organizations are registered with the city government with mandates to provide social services, including HIV prevention, care and support, to city residents. The National AIDS Commission and countless NGOs have been implementing HIV/AIDS programming here for over a decade.
The national prevalence of HIV/AIDS is currently estimated to be 12%. Though the prevalence is thought to be even higher in the south of the country, where Zomba is located, with urban areas even more affected. Here prevalence rates are estimated as high as 18%, translating to nearly 1 in every 5 individuals living with HIV. The epidemic is generalized, affecting all groups, with women experiencing higher prevalence rates due to biological and socioeconomic determinants that increase their risk of acquiring HIV. There is no one here who has not been directly affected by the epidemic; the loss of loved ones, the risks of pregnancy, childhood and adolescents, the economic instability of a diminishing workforce. HIV/AIDS is omnipresent, an oppressive plight within the warm heart of Africa.
That said HIV/AIDS is an elusive evil, one that lies beneath the surface of the social fabric. It is a virus that suppresses the immune system of those infected; increasing susceptibility to opportunistic infections that can quickly erode quality of life, if left untreated. As such its outward expression is of a host of infections that lead to skin lesions, persistent coughing and wasting. Its acquisition is marred by the social taboo of discussing sexual practices that are tightly intertwined in the cultural and socioeconomic reality of those affected. In a society that values high parity and sees being overweight as a sign of success, HIV/AIDS brings shame on a family. Thus in difference to those infected and affected, HIV status is handled with discretion.
The burden is carried silently as those affected toil in the fields and markets. Nor is it the only hardship that must be endured. It is the latest and arguable the most deadly in a long line of diseases that compromise the health of African society. HIV/AIDS is also an addition to every other hardship that comes with living an impoverished life; the grueling physical labor, the uncertainty, the parade of material objects that are out of reach.
If poverty is an oppressive lack of information and options, HIV/AIDS exacerbates the situation; pushing the dreams of the young couple out of reach, robbing the old of their children and burdening them with more grandchildren then they are capable of caring for. In this context, it seems reasonable that the pain caused be gently hidden from view and a focus be given to family and more immediate challenges.
As treatment and care programs are being scaled up, people are living longer and speaking out. Gains are being made and Africans are learning to adapt in ways that not only ease the dangers of the current epidemic but also prepare them for future challenges. But the scars have been left on a generation of children that see the suffering and continuous funerals as the norm in a childhood devoid of choice and opportunity.
What does it all mean for an HIV/AIDS technical advisor? It means that daily I stare into the invisible eye of an injustice that is crippling those selling me bananas or kind enough to ask me how I am doing. Such a reality is enough to take your breath away. It is also a dilemma so large in its totality and complex in its composition that it can thwart the efforts of thousands of motivated and good intentioned individuals. On the best of days, it is an immense beach slowing being eroded by a tide that makes uneven passes at its miles of dense sand. At worst, it is completely out of reach, something visible but untouchable floating through space and time claiming those around you, frustrating your best efforts in strangling it before it can claim another life.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Friday, September 17, 2010
Internet!
I now have daily access to the internet and with it any excuse I might have had for not writing more often has evaporated. So you can look forward to more frequent posts from me. I am going to keep writing on the day to day stuff, but am also hoping to write more on the technical issues of health system strengthening that I am facing here.
Stay posted...
Stay posted...
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
Nsima with relish. Let me explain.
Nsima is ground corn flour that is cooked like porridge until it thickens and is then scooped into large paddies. Nsima is the staple food in Malawi and is eaten with relishes. Here is where a little variety comes in. If you are lucky, the relish consists of two parts. There are boiled greens served with some ground nut powder and a tomato-based soup with pieces of meat, either chicken, beef or goat. To eat, you pinch off a piece of the nsima with your fingers. You ball the nsima up in your palm and then either dip it into the soup, which is quite salty, or pick up some greens with it. Thus the ‘relish’ adds a little flavor to the nsima.
That is my lunch for about 5 days a week, as I joined the memo at work where about 10 employees go together for lunch. I pay 600 Malawian Kwacha (~4USD) a month to buy the corn flour and an extra 100 MK (~65 cents) every day I eat with the memo for the relish. One of the men goes around the office in the morning to collect the daily contribution, and the women start cooking around noon after someone makes the trip to the market to purchase the relish ingredients. They do the cooking in the ‘kitchen’, a small room with a large sink and one table. The cooking is done on small charcoal burners which they light outside and then bring inside and set on the floor. When the food is ready, it is divided between the available plates and the aroma of the relish gets everyone’s attention and fills the small kitchen quickly.
Eating this meal is learned during childhood. As such, it has made me feel a little childish as I first attempted to ball the nsima in my palm and eat the relish without making a mess. Conversation is usually lively as people pause from eating as they ball the nsima in their hands. It is in Chichewa, so I rarely have a firm grasp on the discourse. However, the random English word usually gives way to the overall theme and I am able to contribute a well timed phrase now and then.
It is a heavy lunch. Afterward, I say my thanks (zikomo kwambiri! Chakudya chabwino!) and I head back to my office. It is there that I try intently to become quickly engaged in some interesting work activity before the ball of nsima in my stomach robs me of my ability to concentrate as all my energy switches to the digestive process.
That is my lunch for about 5 days a week, as I joined the memo at work where about 10 employees go together for lunch. I pay 600 Malawian Kwacha (~4USD) a month to buy the corn flour and an extra 100 MK (~65 cents) every day I eat with the memo for the relish. One of the men goes around the office in the morning to collect the daily contribution, and the women start cooking around noon after someone makes the trip to the market to purchase the relish ingredients. They do the cooking in the ‘kitchen’, a small room with a large sink and one table. The cooking is done on small charcoal burners which they light outside and then bring inside and set on the floor. When the food is ready, it is divided between the available plates and the aroma of the relish gets everyone’s attention and fills the small kitchen quickly.
Eating this meal is learned during childhood. As such, it has made me feel a little childish as I first attempted to ball the nsima in my palm and eat the relish without making a mess. Conversation is usually lively as people pause from eating as they ball the nsima in their hands. It is in Chichewa, so I rarely have a firm grasp on the discourse. However, the random English word usually gives way to the overall theme and I am able to contribute a well timed phrase now and then.
It is a heavy lunch. Afterward, I say my thanks (zikomo kwambiri! Chakudya chabwino!) and I head back to my office. It is there that I try intently to become quickly engaged in some interesting work activity before the ball of nsima in my stomach robs me of my ability to concentrate as all my energy switches to the digestive process.
Thursday, August 5, 2010
On the way to work
A man pushes a young boy on a bike. A mother smiles as she carries her daughter. I am riding in the passenger seat of a car, and as we pass through this small trading center on the way to work, my eyes connect with theirs. For a moment I forget where I am. The context of the situation is lost to the simple expressions of joy seen in their faces.
This connection is precious in a place where you are often set far apart from those around you. Yes, I live in their community and I shop in their markets and at their stores. I travel their streets and say hello to their kids, but I am foreign to them. The place where I was born and the color of my skin are the most apparent, but also the least significant. They make me a foreigner, but they don't set me apart as our differing perspectives do.
Knowing other places, other people, other ways of living means that we see the smoking tailpipe, the innocent laughter of children, the piles of tomatoes and the bicycle taxi in a different light. The fact that I choose to be here—and could leave tomorrow—creates a distance between us. I could get a job that pays more in a month then they will earn in the next ten years. Basically, we have a different set of options available to us. No doubt, I have more. Though they too have access to options that I don't. The lives that they live are as inaccessible to me as my life is to them.
So as I move through this place I reflect on what it is that sets us apart and what unites us.
While it is the differences that draw our focus, that which we share is by far in the majority. It must also be our hope for a better tomorrow.
This connection is precious in a place where you are often set far apart from those around you. Yes, I live in their community and I shop in their markets and at their stores. I travel their streets and say hello to their kids, but I am foreign to them. The place where I was born and the color of my skin are the most apparent, but also the least significant. They make me a foreigner, but they don't set me apart as our differing perspectives do.
Knowing other places, other people, other ways of living means that we see the smoking tailpipe, the innocent laughter of children, the piles of tomatoes and the bicycle taxi in a different light. The fact that I choose to be here—and could leave tomorrow—creates a distance between us. I could get a job that pays more in a month then they will earn in the next ten years. Basically, we have a different set of options available to us. No doubt, I have more. Though they too have access to options that I don't. The lives that they live are as inaccessible to me as my life is to them.
So as I move through this place I reflect on what it is that sets us apart and what unites us.
While it is the differences that draw our focus, that which we share is by far in the majority. It must also be our hope for a better tomorrow.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Sunday, July 25, 2010
My intro in Chichewa
Ine dzina langa ndi Mike Dalious.
Ndimachokera ku America.
Mdimagwira ntchito ku Zomba City Council monga mulangizi waza HIV ndi Edzi.
Ndasangalala kukumana ndi inu.
Ndikuphunzira Chichewa pang'ono pang'ono.
Ndikusanglala ku Zomba!
Translation:
My name is Mike Dalious.
I am from America.
I work with the Zomba City Council as a HIV/AIDS advisor.
It is nice to meet you.
I am learning Chichewa little by little.
I am happy to be in Zomba!
I have got the greetings down and have started work on other useful phrases like "palibe vuto" = no problem and "tikupita" = let's go. The pronunciation is similar to Spanish, which is making the learning process a little easier for me. Fortunately, everyone I work with speaks English well, but they all enjoy teaching me new words and especially like hearing me say them with my funny accent.
Ndimachokera ku America.
Mdimagwira ntchito ku Zomba City Council monga mulangizi waza HIV ndi Edzi.
Ndasangalala kukumana ndi inu.
Ndikuphunzira Chichewa pang'ono pang'ono.
Ndikusanglala ku Zomba!
Translation:
My name is Mike Dalious.
I am from America.
I work with the Zomba City Council as a HIV/AIDS advisor.
It is nice to meet you.
I am learning Chichewa little by little.
I am happy to be in Zomba!
I have got the greetings down and have started work on other useful phrases like "palibe vuto" = no problem and "tikupita" = let's go. The pronunciation is similar to Spanish, which is making the learning process a little easier for me. Fortunately, everyone I work with speaks English well, but they all enjoy teaching me new words and especially like hearing me say them with my funny accent.
Monday, July 12, 2010
Settling in
My time in Malawi is off and running. I have been in Zomba for two and a half weeks now. I am starting to put the pieces of my work together at the City Council. Meeting after meeting has me learning more about the work which has already been done and the challenges that lie ahead. Office politics are beginning to emerge as I am being accepted as a colleague. Buying into the lunch cooked at the office for less than a dollar a day is changing people’s perception of me. Today our first department meeting gave me the opportunity to speak to everyone as a group and further define my role as a technical advisor. The work plan which I develop over the next few weeks will guide the rest of my time here. As I write it, eager to tackle all sorts of challenging tasks, I am sure that I am taking on too much. Working from the objectives to the activities to the indicators then outlining a timeframe for the work convinces me of this. It is a balancing act between spreading myself much too thin and having enough work should I run into insurmountable obstacles with one or more tasks. Accomplishing half of what I am outlining would be very satisfying, but I am guaranteed to learn volumes about response coordination and M&E regardless of what I am able to complete.
Outside of work I am also making steady headway. My house is beginning to become a home as I acquire more furniture, continue to clean and fix things. The garden which I started the first weekend I was here is now pushing carrots and the barebones grey water system that I am using has the backyard turning green. Every night my neighbor Kenny, a very smart 12 year old, comes over to play games on my computer and we make further plans for the garden. The neighborhood kids are still astounded by the sight of me on their streets, but I have started to befriend some of the older guys. And there is a sizeable number of expats around who have been cluing me into all the ins and outs of living life in Malawi. They will be nice to have around and provide a stark contrast to my service in Bolivia where I was in a one gringo town.
As this is not my first time living abroad in a developing or underdeveloped country (depending on how you choose to look at it), I am poised with some interesting questions. How much will I allow my previous experiences to define my current situation? How open will I be to being influenced by my surroundings versus how focused I will be on my objectives? And always in the back of my mind, Can I make a career out of this work? Can my desire for social justice and harmony combined with my intrigue for understanding how to navigate the multitude of intertwining relationships and systems in which each new society operates push me to continually uproot myself? Or will the stresses that accompany each move and the cravings, both societal and material, that are left unsatisfied by a nomadic life ultimately usurp the more noble cause? Or will I find a middle ground, a combination of the new and exciting with the enduring and comfortable?
For me there is no better place to be at present to ponder these questions and so many others. Settling into the warm heart of Africa is turning out to be all that I could have hoped for.
Outside of work I am also making steady headway. My house is beginning to become a home as I acquire more furniture, continue to clean and fix things. The garden which I started the first weekend I was here is now pushing carrots and the barebones grey water system that I am using has the backyard turning green. Every night my neighbor Kenny, a very smart 12 year old, comes over to play games on my computer and we make further plans for the garden. The neighborhood kids are still astounded by the sight of me on their streets, but I have started to befriend some of the older guys. And there is a sizeable number of expats around who have been cluing me into all the ins and outs of living life in Malawi. They will be nice to have around and provide a stark contrast to my service in Bolivia where I was in a one gringo town.
As this is not my first time living abroad in a developing or underdeveloped country (depending on how you choose to look at it), I am poised with some interesting questions. How much will I allow my previous experiences to define my current situation? How open will I be to being influenced by my surroundings versus how focused I will be on my objectives? And always in the back of my mind, Can I make a career out of this work? Can my desire for social justice and harmony combined with my intrigue for understanding how to navigate the multitude of intertwining relationships and systems in which each new society operates push me to continually uproot myself? Or will the stresses that accompany each move and the cravings, both societal and material, that are left unsatisfied by a nomadic life ultimately usurp the more noble cause? Or will I find a middle ground, a combination of the new and exciting with the enduring and comfortable?
For me there is no better place to be at present to ponder these questions and so many others. Settling into the warm heart of Africa is turning out to be all that I could have hoped for.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Another quick hello
All is well in Zomba. I am in my second week at work. I am still meeting a lot of people including a bunch of expats. There is a great mix of people working here.
This year is going to be a lot different from my first time around in the Peace Corps. Malawi is not quite as developed as Bolivia, but here in the city working with the city government there is a lot of work being done and there are resources available to get some work done.
I am still working on settling into my new home and workplace. Today I will be riding along to the city schools to pay for the orphan and vulnerable children to go to school for the year. I am looking forward to seeing more areas of the city. I have basically been traveling back and forth to work along the same route.
This weekend I will be heading to the capital for 4th of July celebrations at the US Ambassadors house. It should be a great time to meet the other peace corps volunteers in Malawi. The 6th of July is the Malawian Independence day and I am planning a bike trip up the Zomba plateau that has been warming welcoming me for the past week.
More to come soon...
This year is going to be a lot different from my first time around in the Peace Corps. Malawi is not quite as developed as Bolivia, but here in the city working with the city government there is a lot of work being done and there are resources available to get some work done.
I am still working on settling into my new home and workplace. Today I will be riding along to the city schools to pay for the orphan and vulnerable children to go to school for the year. I am looking forward to seeing more areas of the city. I have basically been traveling back and forth to work along the same route.
This weekend I will be heading to the capital for 4th of July celebrations at the US Ambassadors house. It should be a great time to meet the other peace corps volunteers in Malawi. The 6th of July is the Malawian Independence day and I am planning a bike trip up the Zomba plateau that has been warming welcoming me for the past week.
More to come soon...
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Agogo
A woman marries.
She has four children that survive until adulthood. Her husband is married to another wife and lives in the other household. The woman leaves the man and raises her four children, paying their school fees and caring for them while working a full time government job.
Her children have children.
Her oldest son has six children, but his wife dies and he does also. The children move in with their grandmother and aunts. Her other children, all girls, have five more children between them all. The girls are educated and get good jobs around the country. Then a daughter dies suddenly. A woman, now a grandmother to eleven children, is left with two daughters.
Her friends consul her.
“I am sorry for your loss”, “she was a bright girl”, “I am so sorry” they say. She grieves saying that she wishes her children would not die before she. The women tell her that it is the will of God and that she must carry on. To her remaining daughters the women say “you must look after your mother”, “this loss is most hard on her”.
A woman looks me in the eye.
In the midst of her loss, I am welcomed into her home. She introduces me to her family and friends. She teaches me new sayings in Chichewa and counsels me on gardening. She does so with a smile on her face and an interested tone in her voice. I see strength in her and wisdom. She is not a rock solely enduring life. She is far to supple for that. Instead she has allowed herself to be molded by the passing of time and events. She has grown like a tree from rocky soil and bent by strong winds, yet she is the root support for her family. She shelters them and holds them close.
She still flowers and her warmth is felt by those around her.
She has four children that survive until adulthood. Her husband is married to another wife and lives in the other household. The woman leaves the man and raises her four children, paying their school fees and caring for them while working a full time government job.
Her children have children.
Her oldest son has six children, but his wife dies and he does also. The children move in with their grandmother and aunts. Her other children, all girls, have five more children between them all. The girls are educated and get good jobs around the country. Then a daughter dies suddenly. A woman, now a grandmother to eleven children, is left with two daughters.
Her friends consul her.
“I am sorry for your loss”, “she was a bright girl”, “I am so sorry” they say. She grieves saying that she wishes her children would not die before she. The women tell her that it is the will of God and that she must carry on. To her remaining daughters the women say “you must look after your mother”, “this loss is most hard on her”.
A woman looks me in the eye.
In the midst of her loss, I am welcomed into her home. She introduces me to her family and friends. She teaches me new sayings in Chichewa and counsels me on gardening. She does so with a smile on her face and an interested tone in her voice. I see strength in her and wisdom. She is not a rock solely enduring life. She is far to supple for that. Instead she has allowed herself to be molded by the passing of time and events. She has grown like a tree from rocky soil and bent by strong winds, yet she is the root support for her family. She shelters them and holds them close.
She still flowers and her warmth is felt by those around her.
Zomba
This week I was sworn in as a Peace Corps Response volunteer by the US ambassador to Malawi and began my year long service in the city of Zomba. I was excited to hear that I would be moving to Zomba as everyone was saying it was a beautiful place. I also knew that there was a plateau to the north of the city that would be great to hike, bike and climb. (The trout fishing is supposed to be very good also, so come on down dad!) It was the capital city of Malawi during the british colonial rule so there are broad treelined streets, colonial styled buildings and even a golf course that runs through the center of town.
I arrived yesterday afternoon and have not had much time to explore, but I am quickly falling in love with the place. My house is a few kilometers east of the city center in a well planned community called Matawale. It is small house surrounded by a brick wall and has a small front and back yard. I have electricity and indoor plumbing that includes an electric water heater for hot showers! It has a living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom and three bedrooms. I am working on getting some furniture, but once I do I will be well equipped for visitors. There is even a great view of the plateau from my front porch, which is a great place for the morning cup of coffee.
There was a Peace Corps volunteer living in the house before I arrived, and she had made friends with the neighbors. So the first night I was here 12 year old Kenny came over to say hello and welcome me to the neighborhood. Tonight I was invited over to his house to say hello to everyone. They were all very nice and have lent me a shovel and hoe to work on my garden. Kenny walked me around the block to show me where the local store was located and then over to his aunt's house so that I could see the proper way to plant a garden. I am hoping to get to work on my garden this weekend.
Today was also my first day of work at the Zomba City Assembly. Malawi is working on decentralizing their government by giving more responsibilities to the 28 district assemblies and 4 city assemblies. One of their main roles is to coordinate the country's response to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. I have been placed with the Zomba City Assembly to assist them with their HIV/AIDS strategic planning, coordination of stakeholders and monitoring & evaluation systems. I met some motivated people at the office today that are going to allow me to really enjoy my job over the next year. After only knowing each other for a few minutes we were able to share some of our experiences and analyze some of their current challenges and frustrations. I am sure that it will be a very trying year, but the fact that I am in it with some folks that really care about the work they are doing will mean a lot to me.
The city assembly is near the center of town and right next to the state house. It is situated on the hills coming down from the plateau and surrounded by tall trees. The front steps go down to a small stream running around the golf course. The banana trees and greenery give the place a tropical feel. As I said, it is an easy place to love.
I am hoping to make a trip to Blantyre city this weekend to visit one of my colleagues and buy some things, bike up the plateau and start the garden, so I will write more about this amazing place soon!
I arrived yesterday afternoon and have not had much time to explore, but I am quickly falling in love with the place. My house is a few kilometers east of the city center in a well planned community called Matawale. It is small house surrounded by a brick wall and has a small front and back yard. I have electricity and indoor plumbing that includes an electric water heater for hot showers! It has a living room, dining room, kitchen, bathroom and three bedrooms. I am working on getting some furniture, but once I do I will be well equipped for visitors. There is even a great view of the plateau from my front porch, which is a great place for the morning cup of coffee.
There was a Peace Corps volunteer living in the house before I arrived, and she had made friends with the neighbors. So the first night I was here 12 year old Kenny came over to say hello and welcome me to the neighborhood. Tonight I was invited over to his house to say hello to everyone. They were all very nice and have lent me a shovel and hoe to work on my garden. Kenny walked me around the block to show me where the local store was located and then over to his aunt's house so that I could see the proper way to plant a garden. I am hoping to get to work on my garden this weekend.
Today was also my first day of work at the Zomba City Assembly. Malawi is working on decentralizing their government by giving more responsibilities to the 28 district assemblies and 4 city assemblies. One of their main roles is to coordinate the country's response to the HIV/AIDS epidemic. I have been placed with the Zomba City Assembly to assist them with their HIV/AIDS strategic planning, coordination of stakeholders and monitoring & evaluation systems. I met some motivated people at the office today that are going to allow me to really enjoy my job over the next year. After only knowing each other for a few minutes we were able to share some of our experiences and analyze some of their current challenges and frustrations. I am sure that it will be a very trying year, but the fact that I am in it with some folks that really care about the work they are doing will mean a lot to me.
The city assembly is near the center of town and right next to the state house. It is situated on the hills coming down from the plateau and surrounded by tall trees. The front steps go down to a small stream running around the golf course. The banana trees and greenery give the place a tropical feel. As I said, it is an easy place to love.
I am hoping to make a trip to Blantyre city this weekend to visit one of my colleagues and buy some things, bike up the plateau and start the garden, so I will write more about this amazing place soon!
Monday, June 21, 2010
The land of acronyms
I am swimming in Peace Corps alphabet soup. Here is a quiz for everybody...
PST
IRC
PCRV
EAP
And some global health soup too...
PMTCT
PLWHA
OVC
MCP
ANSWERS
Preservice Training
Internal Resource Center
Peace Corps Response Volunteer
Emergency Action Plan
Prevention of Mother to Child Transmission (of HIV/AIDS)
People Living with HIV/AIDS
Orphans and Volunarable Children
Multiple Concurrent Partners
And that is just the beginning...
PST
IRC
PCRV
EAP
And some global health soup too...
PMTCT
PLWHA
OVC
MCP
ANSWERS
Preservice Training
Internal Resource Center
Peace Corps Response Volunteer
Emergency Action Plan
Prevention of Mother to Child Transmission (of HIV/AIDS)
People Living with HIV/AIDS
Orphans and Volunarable Children
Multiple Concurrent Partners
And that is just the beginning...
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Quick Update...
Flew into Lilongwe on Monday and went to the Peace Corps office to meet some people then we drove out to the training center near Dedza and the border of Mozambique. We spent the first two days learning Chichewa and Peace Corps' HIV work. Then we spent two days at a home stay in a nearby village with more Chichewa practice and some focus groups to learn more about how HIV is affecting rural Malawians. We made it back to the training center on Friday in time to watch the first World Cup game and cheer as South Africa scored the first goal. This weekend we are relaxing a little and plan to head to the market this afternoon.
All is well. We will be deciding where we are going tomorrow and will meet out counterparts on Tuesday. I'll write more soon.
All is well. We will be deciding where we are going tomorrow and will meet out counterparts on Tuesday. I'll write more soon.
Friday, June 4, 2010
The Next Chapter
“Where exactly is Malawi?”
This has been a very frequently asked question over the past month and is as good as any place to start, so let's begin there. “It is a small country nestled among Mozambique, Tanzania and Zambia. It is landlocked, though there is a lake that runs along over half of the country.” It seems to be considered part of both Southern and Eastern Africa. Known as the “warm heart of Africa”, I have yet to hear anyone speak badly of it. Geologically, Malawi resides within the Rift Valley, which provides the iconic plains of Africa and the mountains I crave. Historically, Malawi was formerly known as Nyasaland when it was a colony of Great Britain. I could continue, though you would be better informed by reading the wiki entry for Malawi.
“What are you doing there?”
This question is much harder to answer. “Well”, I would say, “the Peace Corps is sending me to serve as a Peace Corps Response Volunteer tasked with providing HIV technical assistance to a local branch of the Malawian government.” When that answer elicits an odd look on the face of my questioner, I would explain that the national government of Malawi has developed a National Action Framework to respond to the HIV epidemic with the support of the international community. The Peace Corps has developed a partnership with the government of Malawi to help strengthen the management, program monitoring and reporting of the District Assemblies to better respond to Malawi's generalized HIV/AIDS epidemic. So then the question becomes, “So what are you actually going to do there?” That is when I simplify it by answering “I am going to work in a government office from 7:30 to 4:30 Monday to Friday and try to help people fulfill their work responsibilities by providing them with the skills and resources they need, so that they enjoy their work more in hopes that they will make sustainable gains against the HIV epidemic!” What a cool job, right!?! And that is just the beginning...
Before I continue to speculate on everything that I am going to do over the coming year, let me briefly review where I am coming from for those who have not heard from me in a while. Back in 2006, I moved back to the US from my Peace Corps service in Bolivia. I spent a winter on ski patrol in Maine and applying to grad schools. When spring rolled around I was accepted to George Washington University's Elliott School for International Affairs in their International Development Studies program. I spent that summer in France learning the language and visiting friends and famous places. In August I moved to DC and got a development internship with a small nonprofit while I started classes. The course work was great, but writing grants and asking for money was not for me, so I left the internship and was hired by La Clinica del Pueblo, a community health center. There I worked with a group of health promoters and held community health fairs to screen the Latino community of DC for health risks and get them into the health care system. In the summer of '09 I finished my MA in international development and global health studies.
My experiences in Bolivia, grad school and La Clinica all fed my interest in health systems strengthening, a concept based around the idea of aiding countries to develop their health systems to respond to all their health concerns (often compared to vertical programs targeting specific diseases, though this is extremely oversimplified). My thesis work in grad school exposed me to Africa, and a cursory review of available jobs and all the African novels that I was reading convinced me to branch out from my work with Latinos. At about the same time I received an email from a Peace Corps recruiter who asked me to consider a Peace Corps Response position in Malawi. Well, if you read the wiki entry on Malawi, I don't think I need to do any more explaining. The position was a great fit with my qualifications, and people kept telling me what a wonderful place Malawi is.
So over the past month I worked hard to leave my program at La Clinica in good shape and in good hands. I sold my motorcycle, got someone to replace me in the house, had three farewell parties and packed up everything for a move back to PA. That is where I am now. I have three packs sitting in front of me, a plane ticket for June 6th, a stiff new passport and one last farewell party planned for tomorrow night with my family. It all marks the closing of one chapter of my life and the vast possibilities for the next one.
This blog is meant as a means of sharing the personal and professional adventures that are to come. It is also a means for me to digest all that I am about to experience. I invite you all to read, reflect and comment on where ever this blog takes us.
This has been a very frequently asked question over the past month and is as good as any place to start, so let's begin there. “It is a small country nestled among Mozambique, Tanzania and Zambia. It is landlocked, though there is a lake that runs along over half of the country.” It seems to be considered part of both Southern and Eastern Africa. Known as the “warm heart of Africa”, I have yet to hear anyone speak badly of it. Geologically, Malawi resides within the Rift Valley, which provides the iconic plains of Africa and the mountains I crave. Historically, Malawi was formerly known as Nyasaland when it was a colony of Great Britain. I could continue, though you would be better informed by reading the wiki entry for Malawi.
“What are you doing there?”
This question is much harder to answer. “Well”, I would say, “the Peace Corps is sending me to serve as a Peace Corps Response Volunteer tasked with providing HIV technical assistance to a local branch of the Malawian government.” When that answer elicits an odd look on the face of my questioner, I would explain that the national government of Malawi has developed a National Action Framework to respond to the HIV epidemic with the support of the international community. The Peace Corps has developed a partnership with the government of Malawi to help strengthen the management, program monitoring and reporting of the District Assemblies to better respond to Malawi's generalized HIV/AIDS epidemic. So then the question becomes, “So what are you actually going to do there?” That is when I simplify it by answering “I am going to work in a government office from 7:30 to 4:30 Monday to Friday and try to help people fulfill their work responsibilities by providing them with the skills and resources they need, so that they enjoy their work more in hopes that they will make sustainable gains against the HIV epidemic!” What a cool job, right!?! And that is just the beginning...
Before I continue to speculate on everything that I am going to do over the coming year, let me briefly review where I am coming from for those who have not heard from me in a while. Back in 2006, I moved back to the US from my Peace Corps service in Bolivia. I spent a winter on ski patrol in Maine and applying to grad schools. When spring rolled around I was accepted to George Washington University's Elliott School for International Affairs in their International Development Studies program. I spent that summer in France learning the language and visiting friends and famous places. In August I moved to DC and got a development internship with a small nonprofit while I started classes. The course work was great, but writing grants and asking for money was not for me, so I left the internship and was hired by La Clinica del Pueblo, a community health center. There I worked with a group of health promoters and held community health fairs to screen the Latino community of DC for health risks and get them into the health care system. In the summer of '09 I finished my MA in international development and global health studies.
My experiences in Bolivia, grad school and La Clinica all fed my interest in health systems strengthening, a concept based around the idea of aiding countries to develop their health systems to respond to all their health concerns (often compared to vertical programs targeting specific diseases, though this is extremely oversimplified). My thesis work in grad school exposed me to Africa, and a cursory review of available jobs and all the African novels that I was reading convinced me to branch out from my work with Latinos. At about the same time I received an email from a Peace Corps recruiter who asked me to consider a Peace Corps Response position in Malawi. Well, if you read the wiki entry on Malawi, I don't think I need to do any more explaining. The position was a great fit with my qualifications, and people kept telling me what a wonderful place Malawi is.
So over the past month I worked hard to leave my program at La Clinica in good shape and in good hands. I sold my motorcycle, got someone to replace me in the house, had three farewell parties and packed up everything for a move back to PA. That is where I am now. I have three packs sitting in front of me, a plane ticket for June 6th, a stiff new passport and one last farewell party planned for tomorrow night with my family. It all marks the closing of one chapter of my life and the vast possibilities for the next one.
This blog is meant as a means of sharing the personal and professional adventures that are to come. It is also a means for me to digest all that I am about to experience. I invite you all to read, reflect and comment on where ever this blog takes us.
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