Last farmer meeting

My organization organized a farmer consultative meeting for urban agriculture legitimization today.

It was also my last meeting as project officer here.

Good energy, lots of discussions, constructive dialogue between government agriculture people and the farmers. The feedback about the strategic plans will be presented at the bigger stakeholder meeting coming up soon.

I actually didn’t think this meeting would happen when my two supervisors and I discussed it three months ago. It was too risky. It could have been too controversial and ruin all the work we’ve been able to do. I was surprised when I brought it up again a month ago that my supervisor gave the go ahead. I’m so relieved it turned out well.

I’m going to miss this place.

A lot.

Too much, maybe.

Back from Durban

I just arrived home in Dar from Durban and I already miss the beautiful beaches with waves that could knock you over in a second. Durban (and maybe South Africa in general) is such a paradoxical place; so many sides that some how co-exists. I’m sure, however, that if I were able to stay longer, even more sides would emerge to fill the missing puzzle pieces.

The peer exchange was an amazing experience: lots of insights to how different governments work, of how context specific public service provision has to be, of how much I would love to continue working with my current organization, of how much work in this sector fascinates and frustrates me….. (and how that was really too long of a run-on sentence).

I will try to write as much as I remember in the next few days while I attempt to sort my life out.

Lesson: if you’re serious about staying and working in a foreign country, you have two choices: 1) start you job search earlier and/or 2) stay behind for a while to focus on job searching and networking.

Do not have vague hopes about funding for your organization to hire you to come in on time (and thus postpone starting your job search). Do not book your ticket out of the place too early and risk having to spend extra to change your ticket. *Sigh*

International Development Week at UBC

This morning, I woke up at 3:50 am to skype into a conference in Vancouver at UBC. I was one of the presenters at the panel for International Development Week called “A Day in the Life of the International Humanitarian.

The theme was a ‘typical day’ of my work (and the 5 other presenters). Just the thought of a ‘typical day’ is quite interesting because the things I do almost always differ from day to day. But I did my best to represent the different aspects that I work with and also some of the challenges.

It’s really hard presenting without seeing your audience, only speaking to the computer. They also didn’t have enough computers for me to keep listening to the whole panel. I did my part and then had to stop skyping. Bummer. I was looking forward to hearing what the other panellists were doing!

Anyways, the questions I got were:

  1. “Do you think your work makes an impact?”
  2. “Did you have any culture shock moving to a new country?”
  3. “How is it like as a woman travelling and working in Africa?”

I thought they were all really good questions. Too bad I didn’t have enough time to answer them properly. So here’s some fuller answers.

“Do you think your work makes an impact?”

In short, yes I do. We’re not saving the world or the country, but we’re definitely making some people’s life better. I think very carefully about all the activities that my organization asks me to do, if I had a feeling that it would do more harm than good, I would refuse to take part. Fortunately, I have a really good supervisor who explains to me how the world of development and NGOs work (from his point of view, of course) and it helps me navigate my own way. In many cases, we’re providing the ‘missing link’ in making processes work – we’re bringing government departments together so that an urban agriculture strategic plan can be submitted to the Master Plan; we’re bringing urban agriculture groups together so they can form a network. We’re not telling anyone what is the best way to improve their or their country’s situation; we’re simply being the catalyst because there’s often a lack of ‘push’ behind what people think should happen.

I like that we work at different levels to push for change, because not only do I get to have a feel about how different sectors work, but also because change often doesn’t happen because people don’t work on bridging the divides between the government, the civic groups, and the grassroots. I find that my organization works in a niche that is often neglected and, as such, cause development projects to fail. Of course, after all this self-congratulating, at the end of the day, nobody would know if our approach to development would actually work or if it would have any impact until many years later. Even with the passing of time, it is hard to measure exactly how much impact what you did had on such a large process. Sometimes, you can only work in faith and with intuition.

“Did you have any culture shock moving to a new country?”

I doubt there is a person alive that haven’t experience culture shock moving to a different country or even the next town over. We often grow up thinking the world is like how it is from our eyes. Gradually, we discover that there are many perspectives of how the world is and should be. That to me is the most fascinating part of living abroad. And also one of the important reasons why I like working in development.

I did have very strong culture shock the first time I went to East Africa – Uganda, to be specific. More details can be found on this post I wrote a while ago. This time when I came back, I almost had none. I had to adjust to a different working environment, that’s for sure. I had never worked at the government level before and this placement has been much longer than what I had last time. However, in terms of feeling comfortable with my living situation, I haven’t had any problems. This could be partly because I grew up back and forth between two different countries and was constantly moving houses. I’ve never felt that there is anywhere that is specifically ‘home’ and I tend to settle down in any place I go pretty quickly.

“How is it like as a woman travelling and working in Africa?”

It’s not easy travelling as a woman. It’s also not easy travelling as a man, or really as someone who looks and acts foreign in any place. You will stand out. You will get attention, way more than what you’re used to at home because you don’t look like you’re local.

From my experience travelling and working in East Africa, it is not unsafe. It’s probably as unsafe as in Vancouver. (I know crime rates are higher etc etc, but most tourists or foreigners don’t actually go to the places with high crime rates, e.g. in the unplanned settlements.) There are places you shouldn’t go at night and there are places where you have to dress appropriately. Always ask locals and foreigners who have been around for a while about where it is safe or unsafe. As a woman, there are definitely more restrictions on what you can or cannot wear. When in doubt, always dress covering your shoulders and lower legs. I find that you often have to dress even more conservative than the young local women because you do stand out more. For example, here in Dar es Salaam, women can wear tank tops, but when I do, people look at me more. That’s not necessarily something you want when you’re coming home later in the night. During the day or at the beach, it’s probably fine.

As a woman, also, you almost always get different treatment depending on if you’re with a male companion (friend or partner) or not. Just the sight of having a male person next to you makes people treat you differently. For me, this is one of the more uncomfortable realities. You’re having a good chat with someone and then if suddenly a male friend joins the conversation, the whole dynamic changes. I still don’t really know why this is. Men also often only speak to your male friend and not you if you’re together. I’ve had experiences where men will ask questions through my male friend about me, as if I don’t have the ability to answer myself. Whether this is out of respect (as in they assume my friend is my husband) or some notion of me having inferior mental capacity, I don’t really know. Although, on the flip side, there are advantages. If you’re going out at night, it’s always safer to have at least one male with you, especially if you’re dancing. Just the fact that your group of girls came in with a guy makes all the difference in how close some (probably drunker) people try to get.

You’ll also get lots of marriage proposals and “I love yous”. People might ask you what is your name, how you are doing, and then, by the third question, as you to marry them or take them back to Canada. Laugh it off. Sometimes it makes me annoyed unnecessarily. It’s probably one of those little annoyances that are better left as a little annoyance than to be dwelled on.

In terms of work, gender is an issue. I find the grassroots level groups that I work with often have unequal gender dynamics. Men almost always dominate. Even the most outspoken women don’t really make opinionated statements, compared to the men. There are also groups that I work with where, probably because of the gender imbalance, it is usually the men who get more advantages from the project. I’m not sure if the culture is slowly changing, but younger women I meet seem to be more and more assertive, which is good progress. At the governmental level, however, gender dynamics are very balanced. There are high level female directors. There are highly respected elder ‘mamas’ (calling someone mama here is respectful). Whenever I’m in a meeting with government officers, it is seniority and rank that determines how much someone speaks, not usually their gender. In general, I find Tanzanian women very strong; or at least stronger than I had anticipated.

So I hope that answers the questions a little bit better. What are your experiences? Questions and comments are always welcome!

Of money and projects

One group of farmers that I’ve been working with abused the funds we gave them for their project. Blatant stealing by the only two male group members out of 7.

I won’t go into details. But there’s been a lot of complications and the big showdown is on Monday. I wonder how it’ll turn out.

If you ask me, there were a lot of things wrong with how the project developed in the first place. But it still doesn’t make me feel less sad at the fact that it has to turn out this way.

As much as I hate to generalize, I really think there is a culture of ‘corruption’ or abusing of power here. It goes from the very bottom to the very top. There is a sense of entitlement, that it’s ‘natural’ to abuse your power once you have it. No one should hold any grudges because, hey, if you were in my position, you would have done the same thing.

Sometimes, well most of the time, it’s a little bit more than mind boggling.

I’ll write more updates once the showdown on Monday happens and the verdict is out.

When being an incompetent facilitator is a good thing (maybe)

There were no fans. My head was pounding. My eye was tearing. Rapid-fire Kiswahili echoed in the room.

I was in a meeting today where I was supposed to be the facilitator. I was a bit sick and I felt it would be better if the flow of the meeting wasn’t interrupted as much with the translation of every sentence. So I asked the stakeholders to facilitate the meeting. Result: much boredom and more energy to dwell on my now raging headache.

Honestly, though, I’m glad. This network we’re trying to form has to come from their initiative. I’m just the facilitator. My job is to sit there and just jump in when needed. At least we got a lot discussed.

Unfortunately, I’m not really sure when I’m needed because of the language barrier. It’s so hard to facilitate a meeting in a different meeting culture in a completely different language.

Apolitical blame

One of the groups of farmers we work with farm in a controversial area – the Msimbazi Valley. In the past few months, there’s been lots of media attention on the valley, mainly due to research findings (confirmed or not depends on who you ask) about the toxicity of the water and soil.

The Msimbazi Valley runs along the middle of Dar es Salaam. It’s huge, with estimates of hundreds of, maybe even a thousand, people who directly make their living from urban agriculture here. It’s also a politically charged space because a palm oil company (SUKITA), controlled by the CCM (political party that has been in power since independence), owns the valley land. But rampant corruption means that company officials have started selling individual parcels of land without legal land tenure. People have bought land, built their homes, and set up their farms (see aside below*). Yet, none of them actually own the land they have spent their lives’ fortune on.

Msimbazi Valley is downstream to many of the industrial factories. Hence, untreated toxic by-products and sewage pollute the river, which is the only source of irrigation water for the farmers. The valley also floods during rainy season, so even if the farmers don’t irrigate with the water, the water still contaminates the soil.

The recent media attention means that nobody wants to buy vegetables from the valley anymore. Understandably so. The area has been declared illegal for urban agriculture. Forced removals happen all the time. My former roommate saw farmers beaten by the police; when asked, nobody says anything. The head of the municipal Agriculture and Livestock Department has no sympathy whatsoever. Whenever we try to bring this issue up when working for demarcating land for urban agriculture, the answer is always a strict no. It’s also hard for my organization to advocate on the farmers’ behalf, as too much controversy would gain us more enemies and slow down the process of legitimization.

Yet, it seems like nobody (except the farmers themselves) recognizes the large white elephant in the room: the farmers aren’t the ones causing the pollution. They grow toxic vegetables because of unregulated factories and non-existent sewerage treatment facilities. They are unable to invest in soil remediation or boreholes for cleaner water because they were sold illegal land through corruption (who would put money in when you could be kicked off any day?). The real blame is the unwillingness of the government to force the actual polluters to pay. Keeping foreign-investment is obviously more important than backward rural activities that don’t belong in a city. Neither is the government willing to spend money to ensure safe disposal of sewage. Nor anger people of power who illegally sell land. No, the blame has to be put on the farmers – marginalized, poor, and politically voiceless. What a convenient, apolitical scapegoat.

And that is the problem I have with the way most of us are taught to think – it’s too apolitical. During my political ecology class, I was taught to always ask “for whom.” Such and such practice is beneficial…for whom? We should make this policy because it is good…for whom? We often forget that behind most actions, there are the beneficiaries and then there are those who lose out. By asking “for whom” it clarifies the seemingly apolitical recommendations we make.

One example that really struck home is the accepted notion that soil erosion is an evil that should be stopped. But is that a universal statement? Who benefits from stopping erosion? What about the farmer at the bottom of the valley? Erosion is when the fertile top soil from the top of the mountain slides down to the bottom. The farmer at the bottom of the valley actually stands to grow better crops because of erosion. Certainly, I’m not saying that erosion shouldn’t be stopped because it benefits some farmers; soil erosion destroys other parts of the ecosystem also. I’m just trying to demonstrate that many of the facts that we take for the truth actually have hidden “for whom” statements that can prod us to rethink our, often “scientific” or “unbiased,” recommendations.

*(aside: I always get frustrated when people don’t see farm land as a structure on the same level as a building. I get it all the time when town planners say that you can’t knock down buildings but can kick people off farms, even if they were both built without permission. Farmers are built. It takes a lot of work to build a farm. I’ll like to see you clear off the vegetation, pick out the rocks, till the land, plant, weed, and irrigate. All back breaking work. Sigh.)

What do you call it when you get a string of good signs?

That a higher up force is on our side?

That’s what’s been happening a lot during the process of legitimizing urban agriculture (part of my job) here in Dar. As I’ve explained before, I work a lot with government officials. Sometimes, it’s frustrating, but sometimes you just feel like everything is happening to help us get our jobs done.

Today was such a day.

First I must explain, though. Currently, we’re asking each municipality (there are three) to write a strategic document to legitimize urban agriculture for submission to the Dar es Salaam Master Plan (in the process). So far, this is what we’ve done:

  • brought farmer representatives and government official representatives together for a day of dialogue.
  • brought the agriculture and livestock department and the town planning department in each municipality together for a meeting to discuss on how this legitimization process can move forward. All agreed that the agriculture departments should write a draft plan on how they think urban agriculture should happen in this city.
  • plead and nagged and asked the agriculture departments to finish their plans (in record time, may I add – never expected it to be so fast)
  • bring agriculture departments and town planning departments together again to discuss this plan and incorporate feedback.

So far, that’s how much we’ve done. Still long process, but in good time. Anyways, today…

So we set up a meeting between the town planning and agriculture departments in one of the municipalities. Town planning departments are generally perceived to be high up and agriculture people never really talk to them. So that’s why I have to set up these meetings (yes yes yes, as a foreigner, people pick up the phone when I call and don’t just brush me off). This was an important meeting, and I had already stressed that the ag. department should be on time and that they should bring enough copies of the document so we can go over it.

The time comes. The town planner is already waiting. No sign of ag people. Shoot.

I had just confirmed 30 minutes ago that they were coming….so I phoned again. “We’re coming. But there’s no electricity so we couldn’t print the document.” My supervisor and I look at each other. Ahhh!!!

We make small talk with the town planner. Then he notifies us that he has to leave for a meeting soon, that’s why he told us we can’t be late. He seems pissed.

So I send a text. “We’re on our way.” No idea when they’ll arrive. That sentence can mean anything from 5 minutes to 2 hours.

No choice. I take out my computer and try to print the previous draft we had (very bad draft). The USB stick doesn’t work with the desktop in the office.

The ag. people walk in. Thank goodness. But the town planner has to leave.

Luck number one. The town planner suggests that we can meet in the afternoon when he comes back (it’s actually very nice of him to say that. Most people would probably just say come back another day).

Fine, it’s going to take up our whole day (and both my supervisor and I have tons on our plate), but at least we’ll get the meeting done. So we try to print the updated document. The print takes 5 minutes to print one page when there are photos.

Luck number two. The town planner walks back in. The meeting he had with the district commissioner was cancelled (!).

So we print the document and start the discussion.

Luck number three. The town planner was quite receptive of the proposal. And gave very good feedback.

Luck number four. The head of the agriculture department is in Scotland. Let me explain. The head of the ag. department in this municipality is an elderly man who is super enthusiastic about urban agriculture but has this view that the town planners are always enemies (they have been in the past, UA hasn’t really been accepted as a legitimate land use – hence my job). So he’s always defensive. But today he’s not here, and the rest of the ag. department actually has a good dialogue with this town planner. hurrah!

Four lucky breaks. Do you still call that lucky? Or is it more than a coincidence? :)

Days like this just make me love my job. The meeting went so well, I’m just ecstatic.

But 2 down, 1 to go. This last one is going to be tricky. I just know it. But maybe luck will be on our side again.

another blunder

Big meeting this morning.

One of the trainers from the urban agriculture training week (goodness, that was more than a month ago) finally came with her report for the training (I’ve been calling and texting for 3 weeks now).

I was so excited to see her at this meeting and to get the report that I completely forgot to think. Oops. I just handed her the money in front of everyone after the meeting.

Shit.

My supervisor calls me aside. “What are you doing!? Now everyone is going to think that we paid her for coming to the meeting.”

agggggggggggggggggg……………………………………..

…sigh….just another day of learning local work customs.

A Typical Meeting at the Office (and there’re many)

Agreed on meeting time: 10 am – 12 noon

9:40 am: first meeting participant ambles in. We greet them, show them where the meeting will be. Karibu chai na kahawa (you’re welcome to have some tea or coffee). We go back to work a bit more.

9:55 am: second participant ambles in. Process repeats. We introduce them to the first one so they can have polite conversation.

10:00 am: still only two people, we wait.

10:10 am: two more people show up, process repeats. I’m usually antsy by this time, although everyone else seems ok with it.

10:15 am: my supervisor and I usually look at each other and say “yeah, we should start, can’t be too late.” We both amble over. I would sit down, agenda and notebook ready, hoping to get the meeting started. But, my supervisor, seeing nobody has had any tea or coffee yet, would start making his own (that’s his philosophy, you start making yours and others will feel comfortable making theirs). Add sugar. Add Nido (powdered milk). Add coffee/tea. Add water. Stir. It’s a meditative process; doesn’t exactly help my antsy-ness. Then everyone starts. And we always need more cups and some people want cold water from the dispenser than hot tea. So we run to and fro between the kitchen and meeting place to satisfy all of this.

10:25 am: finally everyone has their tea/coffee/water. We chit-chat a bit more. The rest of the participants (except one) show up. We prepare more tea/coffee/water.

10:30 am: the meeting starts.

10: 40 am: we finish introductions and going over why we are having this meeting. Remaining participant arrives, apologizing (sometimes). We go through the first 10 minutes of the meeting again. Strangely enough, people speak even more this time when asked to introduce themselves.

10:50 am: meeting finally starts and we get down to discussion.

That’s how it is and that’s how you accept it. My teacher in Uganda once told us that “you’re the one losing out if you’re not patient.” If you don’t have the patience to wait for people to come, then you’ll never get anything done. People are like this with time, and you’re not going to change that. If you storm out, angry that people don’t come at a time you said, then you can’t get the result you want. The community or whoever you’re meeting won’t really care, actually. It’s you who is losing out. I tend to agree with her. I’m this foreigner coming into a whole different culture. Who am I to demand change?

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