Another kind of field cred

Normally, when I think about field cred, it’s about one-upping each other on “exotic” and dangerous situations with fellow expats. It’s not an activity I particularly enjoy, although I must admit I like listening to all the stories. Generally, though, the one-upping just becomes ridiculous; I lose interest quickly when it becomes a bitching-fest.

Recently, I realised that “field cred” also works with my field officers. They’re Ugandan and have lived in the rural areas and the capital. They’ve seen the country in high times and low times. It’s not so much their own field cred that they seem to care about (although I’m sure the one-upping probably happens amongst them also), but mine.

As I have no transport right now, I use “public means” (a semi-Ugandan English word that I think is endearing), i.e. taxis (buses) and bodabodas (motorcycles). Taxis take a long time and bodabodas are a bit dangerous. When I tell my field officers this, they’re always surprised. I can’t help but detect an undertone of approval when they ask “Really? You use public means?” It’s as if I had passed some sort of test because I take similar methods of transportation.

Same goes for eating Ugandan food, for walking in the field all day long, for dancing to local music.

In a way that’s hard to articulate, I understand. My field officers have probably worked with other expats in the past; after all, aid money is everywhere. Their expat colleagues, however, probably always came and went with a private SUV, stayed at hotels, and ate “western food.” Although these actions would garner respect by showing off your status, they would hardly help you understand a bit more of how a normal person lives here. Not that how I live is representative at all. But at least I’ve tried. At least I’ve waited in a taxi for 2 hours. At least I’ve sweated in the field for hours. In a strange way, I think my field officers appreciate my attempts at living a more normal life. And in a way, they respect me for that.

It may use a bit more of my time, but I enjoy (well when I’m in a normal mood) taking the taxis. I enjoy the food (I just discovered groundnut sauce with bamboo shoots. Forgive me, but OMG). I love going to the field. If I wanted to live like I do at home, why didn’t I just stay at home?

***I’ve actually met an expat who’s never had Tanzanian/Ugandan food. Never taken public transport. And never really engage with Tanzanians/Ugandans. I’m quite perplexed as to how that is even possible.

A Farmer

One of the farm leaders I work with is a big shot.

She’s an old, old lady. Short and chubby. The first time I met her, she was wearing a fluffy, pink sweater and a wool hat covering her ears. The outer rims of her eyes are sky blue.

Everyone from my company suspects she stole over 1000 to 2000 bags of fertilizer from her group members. And she’s probably still stealing, after being taken to the police and detained. Of course, even if she’s guilty and there’s evidence, we doubt anything would actually happen to her.

Everyone’s scared of this frail-looking grandmother. Some farmers started to make complaints that she stole fertilizer from them. The very next morning, she called a meeting, and no more complaints could be found. Whenever she stands and speaks, there’s hush silence. No one dares contradict her.

She used to be the head guard at the regional prison for over 20 years. Rumour has it that she sold all the prisoners’ food for her own gain. She wasn’t convicted.

Whenever the President of Uganda comes by this region, he has to go to her house to greet her. The latest news is that the President invited her to Sweden for his party. She has all the plane tickets and hotel reservations to prove it.

Trying to get her removed from our scheme is practically impossible.

Who ever said farmers are powerless? Everyone’s a farmer in this part of the country. Including the politicians, the big business people, even the elite in the capital often own land and hire people to farm it for them. If you have an image of all farmers as poor, marginalized, oppressed, with tattered clothes and no shoes, scrub it clean from your brain this instant.

Categories
agriculture

some thoughts

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while.

Here are some thoughts I’ve had recently.

I really want to take a soil management for agriculture class. I want to know how to conserve soil, how to know what kind of crops are good to plant where, how to build up the organic matter. A focus on soil quality is the basis of all kinds of sustainable farming practices. No soil, no food. It would also help me a lot in the field to be able to communicate with my field advisors. It always amazes me how much the soil can change from farm to farm (keeping in mind these farms are very small, 1 or 2 acres, compared to in Canada). It even changes from corner to corner of the farm and the crops perform really differently.

I want to do an internship on an organic farm to learn actually how to farm. I need to learn if I want to continue to work with agriculture, food security, food systems, economics and policies of food. There’s no way I can work in such areas without actually knowing, at least a bit, of actual farming. Plus, I think I would love the hard, but rewarding, work. Maybe when I return home, I would take a season off and volunteer at a farm. But I’m hoping it’s going to be a ‘progressive’ farm where they experiment with methods of farming that works with the environment.

The other day, I had to deliver some chemicals for spraying bean and soya crop (to control the aphids). It smelled horrible. And on the box it said “Handle with care. Harmful to marine environments.” Or something to that extent. It really struck me that the agriculture I’m helping promote isn’t the best for human or environmental health. At the same time, I’m so conflicted. I’m an environmentalist, but I also understand that no one who can’t get enough food in their stomach or get their children into schools would put the environment as their first priority. As the system is currently set up this way, the bank would never lend to high risk agriculture (that’s not fertilizer and pesticide controlled). The farmers are also super happy because the fertilizer really does make the crops grow beautifully (I’m guessing especially because the soil is still healthy; the farmers had never been able to afford large amounts of fertilizer before). Are we to deny these farmers the opportunities that farmers in the developed countries have had? Organic/biodynamic/conservation/etc farming requires a lot of knowledge; it can’t be simplified to input packages (3 bags of fertilizer, 3 bags of seeds, 1 pesticide spray) like we do. How can we provide all that training to so many farmers? Plus, organic farmers have a high risk of crop failure. One season of bad crop can cripple many of the farmers we work with. (Of course, there are some really rich people who actually work in Kampala but farm as a side business). Are we to deny them of the chemicals that will ensure they have a good crop?

I enjoy management work, but I love being in the field. I love understanding “irrational” thinking. Every time I finally understand why a farmer does something a certain way, I feel like my world has widen. It’s not just with the farmers, but with people from different cultures or backgrounds. Or really, just people, as we’re all so different.

Analogies: pregnant wives and unpaid loans

One of my field staff made a great analogy the other day.

Many of the farmers are asking whether they will be able to get a new loan for the next season. Unfortunately, due to the bad start (although it’s getting better), it would not be possible, or desirable, for us to give out new loans until the two current ones are repaid in full. It’s not possible because the Bank is still freaking out about how to recover their loan and refusing to listen to what’s actually happening on the ground with a calm, problem solving-based attitude. It’s not desirable because it sends the wrong message to our farmers – oh, you made some bad business decisions? Here, have some more free stuff, just like how all the other NGOs and government programs have spoiled you.

In response to one of the farmers asking if they can get new loans, my field staff said: “You can’t try to get your wife pregnant again before she delivers her current baby.”

I haven’t been here long enough to say for sure, but it seems like Ugandan/Tanzanians (and one of the Zimbabweans I know) love making analogies to get their points across. I’ve heard of some real prize-winning ones before. Sometimes I’m not sure if they qualify as an analogy, but they sure get their point across in a memorable way. I love listening to them because they always make me think differently. Plus, it makes me laugh.

Sometimes when cross culture communication is hard, I wonder how much of it is actually because we talk in such different ways. When I try to make a point memorable, I would be concise with my main message and use body language and tone of voice to add emphasis. Then I would ask if there’re any questions. I suspect that when Ugandans/Tanzanians try to make a point memorable, it would be a different approach. It’s a shame I can’t really understand the language.

The ups and downs of customer service

Very good customer service, probably the first time in Uganda/Tanzania.

Well, or maybe I should say the very best and very worst customer service from the same company.

My internet ran out (I use a mobile internet stick that I just buy a data plan for), so I went to the local Orange Uganda store. I paid for 10 GB per month for 3 months, which totaled to 450,000 Ugandan Shillings (about 180 CAD). Not a lot, but not a small amount of money either. It was late, so I was really hoping the service would be fast and I could just get home.

How it works here is that you put the sim card into a cell phone. You scratch lots of airtime cards to load airtime (money) onto your sim card. Then you use that money loaded to buy internet plans. So they had to load 450,000 Ugx onto my card. They were grumbling that they didn’t have enough airtime to load. But they didn’t say anything, so I just said that I would go buy some groceries and come back when everything is ready.

When I came back 15 minutes later, my card was ready. I said good night and waved good bye. I speed walked home, collapsed on my bed, and didn’t really want to get off anymore (I had been checking 400+ receipts the whole day – major headache).

I plugged in my internet stick and went online to check if they had loaded the correct amount of data. It should have been 40 GB (1 month free if you buy three months at a time). There was only 12 GB. Smoke came out of my ears.

I threw on some clothes and stomped back over to the store (on a side note: I really don’t like walking at night in town in Tororo. There’re no lights, so some how I always step into puddles and half-twist my ankle). I had to use all the self restraint I had to ask them what happened in a civilized manner. Where is the data I bought? Where is my money?

The sales person (and probably the owner of the store) didn’t even blink an eye. Or say sorry. She said “We didn’t have enough airtime cards. I even told her (the other employee) that if you come back and complain, we will have to explain it.” Can you imagine? If I come back and complain? What if I never checked? They would have just swallowed the extra money I gave them? Is that what happened to my last purchase? Is that why I used up my 10 GB of data in 1.5 months?

She tried to explain how it was OK and once I finished my data she can load the rest of the money. She tried to tell me I can come back in a month to load more data. The problem is the more you buy at once, the cheaper per GB the plans are. I had to do all the math on a piece of paper before she understood what I was complaining about.

I told her no. She would either give me the full amount of data I wanted or she’ll give me back my money. And I’ll never use Orange again. She finally understood that I really wasn’t going to be stupid enough to say yes to whatever excuse she was trying to make. She said I could come back tomorrow when they get more airtime cards and she would load a new sim card for me. I can then exchange in the old one. I said that’s fine. I also asked her to write in that they owe me 200,000 shillings on the receipts.

Still steaming, I went home and wrote a scathing email to Orange customer care. I said this was deliberate fraud. The employee had not even bothered to mention she had bought a cheaper plan. She had no intention of giving me back the extra money. She even wrote on the receipt that I paid 450,000 for a 10GB per month plan. I’m very disappointed in their service and am thinking of taking my business elsewhere. I should have mentioned that I would also mention this story at every opportunity with my friends or my company.

I didn’t think much would come out of the email. But at least it made me feel better to complain.

The next day before noon, I get a phone call (note: they actually called me on my MTN phone – so they really enter those registration forms into their database because I gave them my internet sim card number when complaining). A very apologetic customer care representative said that they were rectifying the problem as soon as possible. She hoped that they have no caused me too much inconvenience and that I will continue to use their services.

At noon, I go back to the shop to get my new sim card. They hadn’t even loaded it with the plan I wanted. I stood there for at least 20 minutes waiting for them to count and scratch and load. This time she showed me directly on the phone when she bought the plan. So I didn’t have to take out my computer and check it there right in front of her eyes.

At 3 pm, I get another call. Head office had actually sent someone to check on the Tororo store because of my complaint. The person called me to confirm that the problem had been solved by giving me another sim card. I said it was fine now and I appreciate their speedy service.

Frankly, this really has been the best customer service I’ve seen in east Africa. I’m pleasantly surprised that they actually sent someone to the store to check and to make sure every was in order. And that they took the time to call to make sure the problem was really solved.

I can’t be angry when a company is so fast at correcting its mistakes. Who doesn’t make mistakes? Due to their response time and attitude, I trust that they will try to prevent further fraud like this from other stores. I’m glad to know that they take their customer feedback very seriously.

On the other hand, I’ve learnt a few things from this incident.

  1. If I were in Canada, I would have probably shouted at the employee who pocketed my money. Here, I thought I couldn’t. Ugandans (and apparently to a larger extent Tanzanians) sometimes can ignore you completely if you’re impolite, even when they are in the wrong. If you shout at a waiter, it’s almost guaranteed that your food would come later than before. I still don’t have the correct gauge for how much politeness is needed in what kinds of situations. To avoid not getting my money back at all, I remained polite, but hopefully they could still sense my anger (hard not to, I think). This really applies to a work situation. No matter what, hold your temper.
  2. I can’t believe the employee never even said sorry. I can’t believe how entitled she sounded when she basically said that she stole 200,000 Ugx from me. I guess saving face is also such a big deal here (and this woman who owned the store was definitely rich. You can tell just by the way she dresses and talks to the others), that she couldn’t bring herself to apologize to a younger person (and foreigner) like me.
  3. Always, always, always check your purchases. Thank you Orange for having an online page to check your data plan status.
  4. I really miss my slower, but unlimited, internet with Vodacom in Tanzania (and much cheaper too).

*** Wow, I just got yet another call from the regional manager of Orange Uganda. They said they are investigating and will be taking disciplinary action if necessary. I’m seriously impressed.

Making sure your brand name is reputable really is a huge incentive for better customer service. I mean, I learnt it in school, but I’ve never really felt it personally. I guess that means I’m a bit spoiled with all the “good” customer service back home (ha…”good” is in quotes for obvious reasons).

*** I just got another phone call. This time from the person who sold me the internet data plan. She didn’t sound very happy, but she apologized. I just said it was ok. Awkward, but appreciated.

Finally, home.

I finally started cooking at home again. It’s such a satisfying feeling.

On Sunday, I went shopping at the local market with the girl, Lucy, who helps clean my house, wash my clothes, and used to bring me food everyday (I sound like I’m 10 years old now). I bought all kinds of veggies, green bananas (matooke), beans, and corn flour (posho/ugali).

I also bought two aluminium pots, although I already have 5 different pots and 3 pans at home because Lucy insisted. Lucy didn’t seem to understand that those ceramic pots wouldn’t break if we heat them up. I don’t think she knows that non-stick pans shouldn’t be scratched either. The non-stick pan at the other house has obviously been scrubbed clean. I don’t want to think that I ate many meals made from that pan…

We came home and she taught me how to peel and cook matooke (green bananas that are like plantains. I don’t know if they’re plantains or not, but I love them). Then she left because the rain was coming. I happily threw together a pot of stew with tomatoes, eggplants, and onions. Seasoned only with salt, as I had nothing else. It was delicious in a way that only a self home cooked meal could be like.

I cooked again this evening also. I got caught in the rain coming back so I couldn’t go buy new ingredients. Beans, tomato, and eggplant stew it is. And a side dish of pan grilled eggplant with just the right amount of salt.

I haven’t felt more at home since I’ve arrived.

Here’s a post to remind myself why I pursued work instead of studies:

1. I had a strong need to find out if what I was learning was actually happening on the ground. There were too many questions, too many conflicting messages, and too much certainty about such an uncertain world.

2. I knew I wanted to work in development/alternative economic systems, but I had no idea what I wanted to focus on for my graduate studies. I figured if I was going to spend two years of my Masters/PhD trying to find out what I wanted to focus on, I might as well get work experience, get out into “the real world,” and get money while doing all that.

3. I was, and am, hoping to magically bump into an amazing supervisor that I would do my graduate studies under. I thought it was better to follow a good supervisor to a good university, rather than going to a good university in the hopes of meeting a good supervisor. I don’t know if this goal would turn out though…

4. I was itching to travel, to “live local,” and to just get out of my comfort zone. I had four months in east Africa before I graduated and I was addicted (not necessarily to east Africa, but to, how should I put it, living basic). I wanted to have more conversations with people who come from a completely different background. I wanted to taste food I’d never even knew about. I wanted to be immersed in a language I couldn’t understand. To stand out, to be strange, simply because I  was there.

5. To do something meaningful, small or big, that might leave an impact. Something tangible. Something useful. I had enough of writing yet another paper that no one was going to read. I wanted to find out that we can help without doing harm (this was amongst all the “dead aid” debate).

6. I had enough of being intellectual for a while (my timeline was 2 years). I wanted to experience and then reflect. Where will this take me? What have I learnt? Why am I here? Where should I go? How? Also on a more metaphysical level – why did I learn this in the classroom and now it’s different? How do you take an idea from theory to implementation? Am I doing the ethically correct actions during work? Can I do this any differently? I needed to take my intellect and let it experiment with hands-on work.

I guess I’ll have to evaluate how I’m doing with all these goals another time. As you might have guessed, yes, I’m in self doubting mode for a bit. I’ve been researching scholarships and I’m wondering if I should have gone right into graduate schools instead. My intuition still tells me I made the right choice…

My supervisors came for a brief visit the last few days. I learnt a few lessons:

1. Always be clear of the boundaries of what is our responsibility and what are the responsibilities of others. Be very clear and sign MOUs.

2. We are similar to a consultant that works for the farmers. They are our clients and always will be. We need to ‘manage’ the other stakeholders to make sure the farmers get a fair deal.

3. Never lose your temper. In different cultures, people need different levels of (perceived) respect. Shouting may be OK in one culture between work colleagues, but it is not in other cultures. Sometimes the harm done by temporary lost of temper can be hard to erase. Skilled and competent staff are hard to come by.

5. Criticisms aren’t personal. For any project/organization to work, there needs to be continual improvements. Even if the criticisms aren’t initially palatable, they aren’t personal and are only for the betterment of the project/organization.

4. Honesty is the way forward. Covering up problems never gets any organization any where. Be accepting of failures and together a solution can be found. Be open to hearing anything and everything and then make your judgments. Don’t hesitate to use resources for reflections and evaluations.

My supervisors came to the field for two days. It was so nice to be with them. I feel totally recharged and supported. Now I’m ready to take on (*cough* cooperate *cough*) those people again.

Here’s a business idea…

My colleague actually runs a side business, of which she is the manager. She and her ex-boyfriend (whom she was going to marry until he cheated on her and physically hit her) started a business in money lending.

The business model is that they focus mainly on government employees, who have a stable salary. The clients need to have a bank account and an ATM card. The client comes into the office, hands over their ATM card and PIN and the staff goes check on their account. Once everything is confirmed to be in working order, the client is disbursed a loan. Simple and quick. The loans vary from 50,000 to 200,000 Ugandan shillings (around $20 CAD to $81 CAD). The company keeps the ATM card. At the end of the month, when the client gets their salary, the company withdraws the amount borrowed directly from the ATM before handing the card back to the client. If the client blocks the account or runs away, the company, ‘simply,’ pays the police a small bribe and they arrive at the client’s home to get the money back. Default rate isn’t very high, apparently.

She says the clients are so desperate for money sometimes that they don’t really care about the interest rate. Their child is sick. They need to pay school fees. They need money for a funeral. Business is booming and all their clients are willing to pay the 25% PER MONTH interest rate.

Can you imagine? 25% PER MONTH. That’s 300% a year!

The business is doing so well that they are thinking of adding in more branches. Their only constraint is cash flow, because they don’t have enough money to lend out. In fact, they might have to raise the per month interest rate to 30% because of insufficient lending capital. They think they’ll still get just as much business.

I’m fascinated by how cash flow is such a problem here. There seems to be virtually no habit of saving. I thought it was only limited to the farmers I work with, but it seems like the same is with, presumably more educated, government employees.

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