Monday, April 13, 2009

The Pace of Development Work

Tor and I with the members of our recent latrine building workshop. The lone woman in the photo is Beth, our translator.
(Note: This is the first part of a three part series describing our efforts to run a technical skills workshop for the Batwa in the month of March. The first and second parts of this series will focus on our efforts leading up to the workshop, and the third part will deal with how the workshop played out and the future of our work in Uganda).

It has been a hectic time here recently in Bwindi. I realized a couple weeks ago that Tor and I had only taken two short trips outside of Bwindi since Christmas. We were well past due for checking out some of the sights Uganda has to offer. I was also looking to find some much needed perspective on working with the communities here. Unfortunately, during this time I had to say goodbye to my close friend Tor Erickson who has contributed so much personal and professional support during the last four months.

To get away Tor and I took a great trip out to eastern Uganda with a young Dutch musician, Tina, who has been working with children in Gulu, a city in the war torn north, and her brother Tom. First we headed out to Sipi Falls, a set of spectacular waterfalls on the Sipi River which drains the western flank of Mt Elgon. Mt Elgon is an ancient volcano on the edge of the Great Rift Valley along the Kenyan border.


The lowest and largest of three spectacular Falls in the Sipi Falls region that drains off of Mt Elgon.

Our first experience of the mountain was in the waning light of dusk. Under falling darkness we could just make out the outline of a massively broad landmass lifting up from the flat plain. What we saw was not the form of a young, cone shaped volcano ready to rupture but that of an ancient volcano that had seen its day in the sun and was slowly, inexorably eroding back into the plain. Fittingly, the mountain took the form of a sleeping person spent from millions of years of geologic activity.

Tired and weary ourselves from hundreds of kilometers of driving we arrived at our lodge under the blanket of darkness. My first sense of Sipi Falls was the hushed sound of running water and chattering birds. All we could see was a faint, rugged ridgeline silhouetted against an imperceptibly lighter sky.

I greatly enjoy experiencing a place arriving for the first time while it is still dark out. Sight can often overwhelm our other senses. Darkness forces us to a more balanced use of our faculties, contributing to a more complete experience of a place.

We spent a couple days exploring this spectacular region. On the final day Tor and I hesitantly signed up to go climbing. We could only imagine the kind of climbing equipment we would find in a country that is known for squeezing every last bit of functionality out of a piece of equipment until it breaks for good and is then used for another purpose. We were pleasantly surprised to find up-to-date climbing gear and cleanly bolted routes. The rock was an old Lahar mudflow dotted with protruding chunks of stone that made for great handholds. The climbing was superb and during rest periods, in between climbs, we enjoyed fantastic views stretching out to northern Uganda. We finished up our climb and then were off to Kampala to run some errands and, sadly, to say goodbye to Tor.


Goofing off on the waterfall hike at Sipi. From left to right Tor, Tina, Tom, and our overprotective guide Fred.

Traveling around in Mt. Elgon I was struck (not for the first time) by how long certain natural processes take. How many millions of years did it take Mt. Elgon to lift up from the Rift Valley and then to wear down to the nub that currently exists? A nub thirteen thousand feet tall and encompassing twenty square miles, to be sure, but we have to remember that at one time it used to be a much taller mountain than Kilimanjaro.

These thoughts on time also made me think of how long processes take for humans. How do humans create the social structures that they live in and how long do those structures take to form? Africa has had its entire tribal social structure ripped to shreds by the division and the subsequent domination of the continent by European colonialists. Then, just as the people seemed to be coming to some kind of equilibrium with a new set of colonial rules, independence struck and the rules shifted yet again. It was a cultural whiplash that happened in an instant but its fallout has lasted for decades. The adjustments that people have made have been incredibly painful and have triggered side effects of lawlessness, corruption, war, starvation, oppression, and poverty.

It is the same for the Batwa. For thousands of years they lived in a social structure adapted to rules and guidelines set by the forest. Banned from the forest in 1994 they are now forced to live by a different set of rules, a set of rules that they lack the education and cultural background to effectively cope with. This is why humanitarian efforts that simply give money or goods, or implement projects without carefully consulting the Batwa and allowing them to organize to fully benefit from the projects can be so dangerous. Without the requisite education and community organization the projects will, at best, fail, and at worst community dynamics and relationships can be disrupted and dependence on outside handouts can become heavily relied upon.


Batwa Children of the Bikuto settlement hanging around at the drinking and bathing water source for the community.

One specific danger of the ‘charity’ style of humanitarian efforts is that much of the funding for these efforts can end up being funneled to those on the ground who have the best education or who sit in positions of power. Frequently these are the people least in need of help and rarely are they the intended recipients of the aid. Because of their local status as influential community members or their education they are the ones who are best able to communicate with and direct NGOs or philanthropists. As a result, funding for community development often does not effectively find its way to the people who are the intended target and instead money goes to those who can best communicate with the donors.

That is why it is so important that we work within communities to build skill sets, whether those skill sets be organizational or labor oriented, so they can truly be the owners and beneficiaries of the projects that come their way.

I feel we took a great step towards promoting project ownership and building community skill sets by running a latrine building workshop for the Batwa. The workshop was attended by eight community-chosen Batwa from four different villages. Its purpose was to teach the necessary construction techniques to build latrines from the foundation to the roof, without the help of any outside masons or carpenters. Tor did an outstanding job engaging the Batwa and teaching the necessary skills. In the next installment of this blog, I will leave it to Tor to describe the philosophy and background of the class. In the final installment, Tor will talk about how the month-long workshop actually played out and I will discuss where we hope to go in the future.

Pictures:

Cooking lunch at the conclusion of our latrine building workshop in Bikuto. Simon (left) was one of eight participants and Syverin was the cook for the duration of the workshop.


Members of the latrine building workshop. Above: Muhzei. Below from left to right is: Kenneth, Medad, Simon, Lokolo (pronounced Rokoro), Tofa, Tinfyo, and Moses.

Cutting heads. Syverin holds two chickens in their death throes.

Fisherman preparing their nets on the shore of Lake Edward in the fishing village of Kisenyi. Kisenyi is one of three villages surrounding by Queen Elizabeth national park because they were there before the park was designated.

The coolest kid in Uganda. Unfortunately it was a mammoth effort trying to get these shades back from him.

Tor teaching the workshop with Beth our translator and using a blackboard. Can you tell us what the 4 components of concrete are?...

Tor posing in front of the ferrocement latrine build during the workshop.

Tinfyo seeking cover during a windstorm in Bikuto. The thatch is blowing off of the building behind him.

Me standing in front of a massive strangler fig tree in Entebbe just south of Kampala.

Wild insect life on an island that we visited on the Nile. The first photo is of an unreal preying mantis type creature feeding on some a dragonfly. The second photo is a line up of dragonflies on a branch.