Friday, March 13, 2009
Bike Trips
Travis and I have been (as a certain friend of mine named after a Greek God would say) "ripping it up" on the Hondas lately on weekends. It’s been great to see more of the country and see village life a little…ahhh who am I kidding – it’s just cool to drive a dirt bike up and down steep hills and over log bridges. There was a moment where we were hanging out on his veranda one evening drinking warm Heineken and looking out over the valley with our (well, "our") dirtbikes and his (well, "his") land cruiser in the foreground, and the sun setting in the background, and we were thinking it doesn’t get much better than this.
Oh Deer
From the "Out of Left Field" category, our friends Erin and Travis were given…wait for it…a baby deer. Yes, their colleagues at CAUSE (an NGO here) thought it would be good if they kept a deer as a pet in their house. Travis was ticked, and hasn’t really warmed up to the little guy, but Erin is going to be sad when they…ahem…release it into the wild.
Planners and Searchers
Planners and Searchers
In the book White Man’s Burden, the author offers an opinion on why Western aid to impoverished countries over the last 60 years has largely failed to actually reduce poverty. He says that aid is controlled by rich "planners" who have little or no knowledge of local conditions, but more importantly, are not held accountable when their plans fail. Successful aid operations usually come from "searchers," - people who search for smaller things that work given local conditions, implement them, and find ways to make themselves accountable if they don’t work.
It was really cool recently to have a group of CRC Pastors from BC visit for 10 days or so along with Dennis DeGroot. The purpose of their trip (in short) was just to visit and learn, and search for possible ways that a partnership could happen between the CRC churches in BC and those in Sierra Leone.
Adrienne and I were able to catch them between village visits one night to hang out and chat at one of the local restaurants in town. It was really cool to be able to hear about their experiences and also to observe how thoughtfully they responded to those experiences. This idea of searching was evident in the way that they went about their time here, and I think that this relationship has a greater chance of being beneficial in the future because of this approach.
Speaking of searching, I am starting to search for ways that CRC Primary can be a blessing to the community of Kabala in more concrete ways.
I made a visit to the Kabala School for the Blind recently, and I am hopeful that a lasting partnership can develop between this school and CRC.
The School for the Blind is in terrible shape. The buildings are run-down, the well has been dry since December, and the gov’t has given them any money for almost a year. The kids live there in addition to going to school, and their conditions are pretty brutal (ie. 3 kids having to sleep on one "mattress" on the floor. – 9 kids in each small room). CITA (the NGO which Adrienne’s clinic is a part of) has been really helping out at the school by donating money for food and offering them free medical treatment at the clinic.
I’m taking my class on a field trip there next week, and all my students were energetic about bringing gifts, so we’ll see how it should be pretty interesting.
In the book White Man’s Burden, the author offers an opinion on why Western aid to impoverished countries over the last 60 years has largely failed to actually reduce poverty. He says that aid is controlled by rich "planners" who have little or no knowledge of local conditions, but more importantly, are not held accountable when their plans fail. Successful aid operations usually come from "searchers," - people who search for smaller things that work given local conditions, implement them, and find ways to make themselves accountable if they don’t work.
It was really cool recently to have a group of CRC Pastors from BC visit for 10 days or so along with Dennis DeGroot. The purpose of their trip (in short) was just to visit and learn, and search for possible ways that a partnership could happen between the CRC churches in BC and those in Sierra Leone.
Adrienne and I were able to catch them between village visits one night to hang out and chat at one of the local restaurants in town. It was really cool to be able to hear about their experiences and also to observe how thoughtfully they responded to those experiences. This idea of searching was evident in the way that they went about their time here, and I think that this relationship has a greater chance of being beneficial in the future because of this approach.
Speaking of searching, I am starting to search for ways that CRC Primary can be a blessing to the community of Kabala in more concrete ways.
I made a visit to the Kabala School for the Blind recently, and I am hopeful that a lasting partnership can develop between this school and CRC.
The School for the Blind is in terrible shape. The buildings are run-down, the well has been dry since December, and the gov’t has given them any money for almost a year. The kids live there in addition to going to school, and their conditions are pretty brutal (ie. 3 kids having to sleep on one "mattress" on the floor. – 9 kids in each small room). CITA (the NGO which Adrienne’s clinic is a part of) has been really helping out at the school by donating money for food and offering them free medical treatment at the clinic.
I’m taking my class on a field trip there next week, and all my students were energetic about bringing gifts, so we’ll see how it should be pretty interesting.
Pics
Travis in front of one of the many log bridges that we cross with our bikes
This hill we biked up was much steeper and more manacing than it looks in this pic
Before the war, Kabala had an air strip that was used often. Now, not so much.
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
My Village Adventure
Some of you have been asking about how my trip to the village went. Below you’ll find the letter I sent to my family (Minus the sentimental parts). I wasn’t going to post this, but I guess you might find it interesting. I wrote it the day after I got back…
I just returned last night from a 4 day excursion into the villages in the northern and most remote part of the country. CES, an NGO here, is doing an impact evaluation of their micro-loan program, which they offer to women in about 21 communities in the district we live in. The goal is that they are empowering women economically and socially in society by giving small increment loans for them to start up businesses. They hired me as a “micro credit consultant”. Sounds fancy-schmancy I know, but really they just wanted someone external to the organization with a non-biased outlook and who would be able to carry out the interviews properly.
I was actually pretty nervous to do this (a lot more than I led on to you mom and dad but I didn’t want you to worry). Mostly for the obvious reasons – bad road conditions, no cell reception or contact to Kabala, sketchy food and bush meat, sketchy sleeping arrangements, lack of communication with locals, getting sick and being alone, etc. You get the picture. However, I decided that this would probably go down as one of the greatest adventures of my life, and what is life about if you don’t take risks and allow yourself to grow?
On Monday, myself and a CES worker (Foray Marah) drove 86 miles on a Honda XL 125 packed with all our drinking water and gear through the back, un-maintained roads to Seria, almost at the border of Guinea. Because we had so much stuff packed on the back of the bike, a lot of my seat space was taken up, not allowing me to sit directing upright. If I did, our helmets would constantly be knocking. I won’t go into detail, but after the 2nd and 3rd hour my knees, groin, and abdominal muscles were so painful I thought I would no longer be able to hold on. Foray is an unbelievably skilled motorcycle driver. So many times we would be crossing a bridge made of thin tree trunks, or going up a steep rocky hill in which I could literally see no clear path, but he somehow always got us through safely.
Thank the Lord we made it to Seria on Monday (the same day we left) just as the sun was going down, and we made it safely to the other two villages. The first thing we had to do when arriving was greet and inform the Town Chief, the Village Development Committee Chair Person (VDCC), and the Mammy Queen (women’s leader) of what we would be doing so they could help organize everyone for the next day.
In Seria and Mongo Bendugu (the first two villages) I slept at the local clinics in the nurses’ lodging (Foray used to be a nurse and knows a lot of people in the Peripheral Health Units) which were actually pretty decent. During the days we worked long hours interviewing beneficiaries and community leaders to see how the micro-loan program is impacting the women’s lives and communities, if at all. We ate two meals a day, both of which consisted of rice, palm-oil and peanut sauce and chicken. In the north water is much more scarce, so the farmers aren’t able to grow crops which require watering like cassava and potato leaf which they make into sauces here in Kabala.
Our last stop was Wednesday at Sinikoro, a tiny village of about 100 huts and mud houses. There is a small, 3 room school which has gr.1-6, but other than that no other resources like a clinic, water well, community center, market, etc. I stayed at the VDCC’s house, along with his three wives and 13 children. This was a mud house with a thatch roof. I actually had a wooden bed, but there was no mattress so I slept on wooden planks with a blanket over them. I was still thankful to be off the ground, especially after Foray warned me to keep my flashlight on all night because he was certain there were rats in the house. The smell in my room was really bad I guess because of lack of ventilation, mud walls, dust, etc. Luckily there was a mosquito net.
As you can imagine the poverty and isolation that these people live in is almost unimaginable. Everyone is Muslim which means every man has 3 or 4 wives and sometimes over 20 children. Usually each wife will get a hut for herself and her own children and the husband will rotate nights with his wives. The girls are usually married off while they are still teenagers and get pregnant shortly after. The children are so mangy looking – dirty, runny noses and coughs, skin infections, swollen bellies, etc. When I would see a fat, healthy looking baby it would make me so happy. I could go on and on but I won’t.
Anyway, one of my worst fears came true here. I ended up getting really sick in this small village, the last one I visited. I’m sure it was from the chicken they fed us. Foray said it was fried, not boiled like it was in the other places. It probably wasn’t cooked thoroughly. The latrine (ant-infested hole in the ground) was at least 50 meters from my room behind the house in the bush. As well, part way through the night a big thunder and lightening storm rolled in (this was the first rainfall in 4 months) and it poured! So, there I was, running back and forth with my flash light and towel over my head to use the latrine in the midst of a huge storm. I remember thinking that when if came to convenience and amenities, this was certainly the lowpoint of my life. Whatever food poisoning I had, it was bad – intense stomach pain, fever, body aches, headache, green shite, etc. The next morning however, it got worse and I starting vomiting. I actually started with the interviews, but wasn’t able to complete them. I have to laugh now at this, because at one point while interviewing, I suddenly had to go so bad, but I didn’t know where the nearest latrine was. So, I ran around in a panic to the nearest houses trying to communicate to the women that I needed to use the toilet. I must have been dehydrated or had low blood sugar because everything turned white and blurry and I almost passed out while talking to them. I’m sure they were thinking, “who is this crazy white woman?” After that, I went and lied down in my room, cried, and fell asleep for a couple of hours.
Foray finished the interviews for me. He felt really bad, kept saying, “Oh! You are so tormented, Edwin.” After I napped, we had to leave to come back to Kabala. So, back on the bike we got for 3 hour ride. I was so weak I could hardly hold on. But I did, and we made it back safely.
I was never so happy to see Joe. He is amazing. Boiled me water to so I could bath, washed my hair for me, picked out my cloths, and made me soup.
So, those are the cold, hard facts minus the sentimental parts but I’m sure you can imagine what that all entailed.
Thanks again for all your prayers and support!
Adrienne
I just returned last night from a 4 day excursion into the villages in the northern and most remote part of the country. CES, an NGO here, is doing an impact evaluation of their micro-loan program, which they offer to women in about 21 communities in the district we live in. The goal is that they are empowering women economically and socially in society by giving small increment loans for them to start up businesses. They hired me as a “micro credit consultant”. Sounds fancy-schmancy I know, but really they just wanted someone external to the organization with a non-biased outlook and who would be able to carry out the interviews properly.
I was actually pretty nervous to do this (a lot more than I led on to you mom and dad but I didn’t want you to worry). Mostly for the obvious reasons – bad road conditions, no cell reception or contact to Kabala, sketchy food and bush meat, sketchy sleeping arrangements, lack of communication with locals, getting sick and being alone, etc. You get the picture. However, I decided that this would probably go down as one of the greatest adventures of my life, and what is life about if you don’t take risks and allow yourself to grow?
On Monday, myself and a CES worker (Foray Marah) drove 86 miles on a Honda XL 125 packed with all our drinking water and gear through the back, un-maintained roads to Seria, almost at the border of Guinea. Because we had so much stuff packed on the back of the bike, a lot of my seat space was taken up, not allowing me to sit directing upright. If I did, our helmets would constantly be knocking. I won’t go into detail, but after the 2nd and 3rd hour my knees, groin, and abdominal muscles were so painful I thought I would no longer be able to hold on. Foray is an unbelievably skilled motorcycle driver. So many times we would be crossing a bridge made of thin tree trunks, or going up a steep rocky hill in which I could literally see no clear path, but he somehow always got us through safely.
Thank the Lord we made it to Seria on Monday (the same day we left) just as the sun was going down, and we made it safely to the other two villages. The first thing we had to do when arriving was greet and inform the Town Chief, the Village Development Committee Chair Person (VDCC), and the Mammy Queen (women’s leader) of what we would be doing so they could help organize everyone for the next day.
In Seria and Mongo Bendugu (the first two villages) I slept at the local clinics in the nurses’ lodging (Foray used to be a nurse and knows a lot of people in the Peripheral Health Units) which were actually pretty decent. During the days we worked long hours interviewing beneficiaries and community leaders to see how the micro-loan program is impacting the women’s lives and communities, if at all. We ate two meals a day, both of which consisted of rice, palm-oil and peanut sauce and chicken. In the north water is much more scarce, so the farmers aren’t able to grow crops which require watering like cassava and potato leaf which they make into sauces here in Kabala.
Our last stop was Wednesday at Sinikoro, a tiny village of about 100 huts and mud houses. There is a small, 3 room school which has gr.1-6, but other than that no other resources like a clinic, water well, community center, market, etc. I stayed at the VDCC’s house, along with his three wives and 13 children. This was a mud house with a thatch roof. I actually had a wooden bed, but there was no mattress so I slept on wooden planks with a blanket over them. I was still thankful to be off the ground, especially after Foray warned me to keep my flashlight on all night because he was certain there were rats in the house. The smell in my room was really bad I guess because of lack of ventilation, mud walls, dust, etc. Luckily there was a mosquito net.
As you can imagine the poverty and isolation that these people live in is almost unimaginable. Everyone is Muslim which means every man has 3 or 4 wives and sometimes over 20 children. Usually each wife will get a hut for herself and her own children and the husband will rotate nights with his wives. The girls are usually married off while they are still teenagers and get pregnant shortly after. The children are so mangy looking – dirty, runny noses and coughs, skin infections, swollen bellies, etc. When I would see a fat, healthy looking baby it would make me so happy. I could go on and on but I won’t.
Anyway, one of my worst fears came true here. I ended up getting really sick in this small village, the last one I visited. I’m sure it was from the chicken they fed us. Foray said it was fried, not boiled like it was in the other places. It probably wasn’t cooked thoroughly. The latrine (ant-infested hole in the ground) was at least 50 meters from my room behind the house in the bush. As well, part way through the night a big thunder and lightening storm rolled in (this was the first rainfall in 4 months) and it poured! So, there I was, running back and forth with my flash light and towel over my head to use the latrine in the midst of a huge storm. I remember thinking that when if came to convenience and amenities, this was certainly the lowpoint of my life. Whatever food poisoning I had, it was bad – intense stomach pain, fever, body aches, headache, green shite, etc. The next morning however, it got worse and I starting vomiting. I actually started with the interviews, but wasn’t able to complete them. I have to laugh now at this, because at one point while interviewing, I suddenly had to go so bad, but I didn’t know where the nearest latrine was. So, I ran around in a panic to the nearest houses trying to communicate to the women that I needed to use the toilet. I must have been dehydrated or had low blood sugar because everything turned white and blurry and I almost passed out while talking to them. I’m sure they were thinking, “who is this crazy white woman?” After that, I went and lied down in my room, cried, and fell asleep for a couple of hours.
Foray finished the interviews for me. He felt really bad, kept saying, “Oh! You are so tormented, Edwin.” After I napped, we had to leave to come back to Kabala. So, back on the bike we got for 3 hour ride. I was so weak I could hardly hold on. But I did, and we made it back safely.
I was never so happy to see Joe. He is amazing. Boiled me water to so I could bath, washed my hair for me, picked out my cloths, and made me soup.
So, those are the cold, hard facts minus the sentimental parts but I’m sure you can imagine what that all entailed.
Thanks again for all your prayers and support!
Adrienne
Adrienne's Village Trip - Pictures
Being so buys on this trip - I wasn't able to take nearly as many pictures as I would have liked. But Anyways, I did manage a few. This is a pic of my living quarters in Sinikoro - this was the bed which had no mattress - just a sheet over a board.
This was the food in the room that I slept in which Foray said would attract mice - this is why I had to sleep with my headlamp on.
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