Archive for October 17th, 2008
“For a Woman, this Floor is Everything”
Thursday, Oct 16th
Ingrid's House
Santo Domingo
At 2:30pm yesterday I watched the Caribbean ocean rush past the airplane windows as we descended towards the Santo Domingo tarmac. After a quick bustle through customs, an exchange of US dollars for pesos (oh and no lost bags!) I was quickly collected by two Esperanza International employees. Tricia, (Esperanza intern coordinator), had housing, dinner, and a stop a the supermarket already planned out for me. She and I went off and ate burritos, talked about college experiences in the DR and US, and compared notes on what we are thinking of for grad school (Tricia, by the way, speaks English rather flawlessly, has an undergraduate law degree, and plans for further studies of international trade).
Tricia drove me around part of Santo Domingo (SD), accurately noting that the city offers pretty much the similar amenities you’d find in a US city: KFC, TGI Fridays, Kia/Honda/Mitzubishi dealerships, gyms, overpriced gas, supermarkets, an Apple-affiliate store, an upscale mall, and very nice housing for $550/month. Unsurprisingly, SD has wealthy , poor, and middle-income neighborhoods throughout.
To my Boston and New York friends, and even those who have seen Italians drive; Dominicans in Santo Domingo are in a whole other league of… well…let’s call it, “traffic navigation techniques.” 1) Flashing headlights means “you better know that I am NOT stopping for you, under any circumstances” 2) Merge now, look later 3) use your horn like your voice box (they are cheery sounding for the most part), 4) the police at traffic lights might as well be on their lunch break. 5) Using your brakes is very wimpy. Anyway, as far as driving goes, I give WORST or maybe MOST TALENTED award to the Dominicans. I am not sure which to call it…
Flash forward to 6:00am today, Thursday. I get together some outdoor work clothes–jeans, sneakers, t-shirt. Tricia has arranged for me to go out of the city and see an Esperanza project in action. Co-worker Pablo (an Argentinian, previously with Habitat for Humanity) picks me and Mark (volunteer from Seattle) up by 7:00am, and we head out for a day of floor-building.
We drove about an hour outside of the city, to a small underdeveloped community where we met Ingrid: an Esperanza microfinance client (but not specifically a Kiva.org borrower). Esperanza has just started to explore housing loan products within their micro credit operations. Mark, who has been here for about two months already, explained that Esperanza’s most creditworthy clients (those who have regularly paid back different loans over several years) are now able to request housing-improvement loans. These loans can be more risky for clients, since they do not add to small business profits. However, these improvements are vital to family well being and health.
It is important to understand the state of housing in poor communities, such as Ingrid’s. First, the “best” accommodations, (and she described this to me) what one would aspire to, is made of concrete blocks, solid roofing, a cement floor and a small cement patio in the front. Forget multiple stories, doors between rooms, indoor plumbing, or glass windows. A good house is shelter, in this context, a shelter that will last and that can be cleaned at will. No cement flooring means a dirt floor-for bedrooms, kitchen, and the infant who wants to crawl around. Cement, by contrast can be readily scrubbed, swept, and cleared of bugs and chicken poop. As for concrete blocks, these are much more durable than the cheap alternatives: tin siding or wooden board siding. Both tin and wood slats do not endure over time. I recall how on my first trip to the DR, my host mother and daughter cleaned the floor eight to ten times a day–it was an amenity not at all taken for granted. That family also had over time upgraded from tin siding to half-concrete block (bottom) and half wooden slats (top). The roof, as I recall, was tin, and any rain that fell echoed like cascading gravel over our heads.
Ingrid explained that she feels cautious about the housing improvement loans–her past success with micro loans has meant quite hard and dedicated work. She cooks and sells local fast food. For her to now cover both her current business loan and a housing loan will mean a constant and careful consideration of her finances, and of course, lots more hard work. She explained her vision as “paso a paso” or step by step–doing what she can as her means allow, and being careful. Eventually, she hopes she can improve all aspects of the house, but for now, the floor takes priority.
Making the cement
Anyway, the floor construction began very quickly after our arrival. A local mason, Ingrid, her husband, and between three and four of Ingrid’s fellow community bank members (all women) came to lend a hand and provide moral support. Then three more Esperanza volunteers arrived (American) with two more Esperanza employees. Esperanza volunteers worked in front of the house mixing sand, concrete dust, and water together for the there rooms inside–where Ingrid’s husband and the mason dumped and smoothed the mixture. All the commotion in front of Ingrid’s house made for a constant stream of neighborhood visitors–most notably the local children who alleviated our down-time with dancing lessons and clapping games.
Smoothing the Concrete
At one point, an older grandmotherly woman also stopped by, and offered me her story with microfinance. Unlike Ingrid, this woman had not been able to continue beyond one micro loan (with a different organization) because her sister (and business partner) had fallen too ill to work, and soon after she herself had suffered thrombosis in her left arm–which now hangs useless at her side. She told me that there was no way for her to ever return to a microfinance program, because it is impossible for her to work. This woman watched the floor construction for a while longer, and then told me that with all her difficulties, she prays quite a lot. Prayer, she said, is her lasting comfort.
What a view!
The floor work was done by 3:15, we had started at 9:00am. As we said goodbye, Ingrid took the time to thank all of the Esperanza volunteers and employees. She asserted, “It is just a floor, but for me, for a woman, this makes all the difference.” I believe her words reflected an important observation in the microfinance communities around the world–women will work for the whole family, for meaningful and long term visions.
In all Ingrid’s project took only a few days to complete: Mark and Pablo had discussed the loan with her on Tuesday. She had received the loan, moved her furnishings to a temporary location; the work was started and completed three days later. Tonight, she and her family will let the concrete dry, and they will move back in tomorrow. Imagine if remodeling your own kitchen only took three days and less than $500.…I guess you just have to say “context is everything.”
As for me, I head out tomorrow (Friday the 17th) for Santiago. I’ll be staying there and initiating my Kiva work at the Esperanza-Santiago office!
More to come soon!
Cuidanse, que vayan bien
Kalie
6 comments 17 October 2008
Ode to Veronica
Veronica was more than just the small provisions shop owner across the street from where I used to live in Ghana’s capital city of Accra. She was more than just a woman full of life and smiles who I would often visit with on my way home from work. She was a friend, one I even visited at home to say goodbye to when I left. So when I spend my first five days in Ghana back in the neighborhood where I lived for two months last year while working at a popular Ghanaian newspaper, one of the things on my to-do list was to see Veronica.
I walked down the street where I used to live, down the entire neighborhood spanning about six blocks that I called home. The salon that a good friend of mine owns is the same, but many of the faces inside have changed. The pharmacy I frequented after falling over a random step in Ghana (which left permanent scarring) has been remodeled and my confidante Alex who used to work there has moved away. Further down, many of the same families and shops look almost exactly the same—the way I realize that I wanted them to look, which is funny considering I came here to help effect change. Other things changed drastically, such as the former trash pile that has now become a taxi station. And then there was what used to be Veronica’s shop, missing from the mix as if it had never been there in the first place. When her shop closed down, she left as well, where to I may never know.
Apparently Veronica had taken out a loan but was unable to pay back for some reason. I don’t know the specifics of what happened, but I was told that she had made some bad business decisions and got herself in over her head in debt and was unable to handle it. It was hard for me to hear considering the reason I came back here and chose to work in microfinance was to make a difference in the issue that for me was the greatest difference between people here and people back home—lack of resources. I hate seeing the economic divide that sometimes fills the air while walking down a busy street. I can see it in the eyes of those who pass me. I can hear it when children ask obruni to give them money (Obruni means foreigner but is often used to say white foreigner, which is obruni co-co). I can feel it when I receive compliment after compliment on my slippers (flip-flops) even though they are just like theirs but with a Nike swoosh. The fact is that people in Ghana can’t readily access resources the way people in the United States can. You want a house but can’t afford it, so you take out a loan. If people in Ghana want a house but can’t afford it, they save up until they can and then start building until they run out of money. Then they save up some more and keep working on the house. There aren’t nearly as many scholarships or educational opportunities, and even if they get an education, the Ghanaian people say there’s no place to go with it. There are a lack of jobs, and even a good job at a bank pays about $350 per month—not bad money for Ghana, but how can people compete and take care of a family in a global economy—imagine saving up to go on a cruise if you only earn $350 each month and have a family to take care of; it is simply not an option
I think about my life and about how hard I have worked for everything I have, be it the clothes on my back or the laptop that I am typing on. I feel as if I deserve these things because I worked so hard to attain them. But then I look around me in the office I share with Ghanaians—who earn about $210 each month– and wonder what my life would be like had I been born Ghanaian. What if, no matter my profession, I never had the opportunity to earn a comfortable lifestyle. It is a scary thought for me growing up as an American where I consider my college years and post-college years of constant lack of money the character builder that I will remember throughout the rest of my life when I do have money. It is a means to an end, but people in Ghana never have that comfortable end in sight. Some do, of course, but it is a much smaller pecentage than those that reach such a place in the United States and with much less stuff. The family that I am living with here in Ghana is relatively well off. They have a big house, running water, a toilet, a television even—but you can’t help but to notice that the walls are empty. I think of my own house covered with photos, knick-knacks, and the like. Money only goes so far in Ghana, and photos are a luxury item. With a 4 by 6 costing the equivalent of $1, such items are scarce here.
It reminds me that nothing in this life is promised—that picture-perfect future that I still hope will happen is not certain. Because even if I work really hard to make it happen, the same thing that happened to Veronica could happen to me. I could fall on my face, and no one may be there to help pick me up. I think maybe hearing about Veronica should have depressed me, but it made me want to work harder. I want to make it so that people have a place to access resources, so that when the economy deflates or when a crisis occurs people can take care of themselves through it.
The goal of Kiva is to alleviate poverty by enabling and empowering the poorer people in the world to pull themselves out of poverty in order to create a sustainable and better life for themselves. My goal is to do the same but on a more micro-level. I can only do so much here at Christian Rural Aid Network, but if I successfully do so along with the other Kiva Fellows, then I believe we can do so much. Maybe I have to have this faith because otherwise how will I ever be doing what I am doing.
I end this first fellows blog with my favorite quotes by one of my very favorite authors, Arundhati Roy, because it is everything I am thinking about as I am about to finish my third day of work.
“To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the vulgar disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty in its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never, to forget….another world is not only possible, it is on her way and, on a quiet day, if you listen very carefully, you can hear her breathe…Either way, change will come. It could be bloody, or it could be beautiful. It depends on us.”
3 comments 17 October 2008
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