Archive for October 29th, 2008

Gali Sends Greetings from Samoa

For those of you who know me as Eviatar (or do not know me at all), I am now Galumalemana, or Gali for short. This is my Samoan name, bestowed upon me by some of the loan officers during my “initiation” on my first Friday night here. The event included some rugby rituals, a healthy amount of Vailima (the delicious local beer), karaoke, many laughs, and a fuzzy feeling of being welcomed into my new family.

Beautiful, but Poor

Samoa is beautiful, but poor. The fishermen in the background are standing in the ocean and fishing with a net.

I arrived in Samoa two weeks ago, and have had an interesting time since. I will try to not be too redundant with previous entries written by fellows who served in Samoa, so I won’t talk about the myriad churches, the beauty of the country, the heat and humidity, the crazy drivers, the fascinating state of poverty, or the kindness of the people. (If you haven’t already, I suggest that you read their very interesting entries by searching for “Samoa” at the top of this page.) Except, the poverty and the extent of the friendliness of the people here is so fascinating that I must write about it, even if it is in repetition. Hopefully you will find something unique in my impressions and interpretation.

Poverty here is intriguing because it presents itself in such an unexpected way. I haven’t been here long enough to make any judgments and pretend to be an expert (that’s next week), so here are some initial observations regarding poverty in Samoa. Although Samoa ranks 36th on the UN’s Least Developed Countries list, that is far from obvious. People here are extremely nice, and it’s hard to imagine any hardships going on in such a paradise of smiles and helpful strangers. Also, there is a very strong extended family and community support net, which keeps the poverty hidden underneath the surface. Samoans would never let anyone sleep on the street or go hungry, even a stranger. They are very generous- and not of the sort that expect something in return, but of the sort that gives because they can. However, this social support places a burden on everyone’s resources. Without going into welfare economics, I should mention that the impact of this system on incentives for people to work hard has crossed my mind a few times.

The second stand out topic is the extent of the happiness and friendliness of people here. Although there is no way for me to tell for sure how happy people truly are in just two weeks, I take their constant smiling, laughing, and kindness as positive indicators. It’s so pronounced that you have to wonder what makes a whole nation so nice. Is it the History? Geography? Chance? Genetics? Climate? Let me illustrate this kindness with an experience that despite its subtlety, startled me quite a bit. A few days after arrival, I went to the immigration office to finalize my visa. There were two booths with clerks in each. One clerk was busy assisting someone, and the other was doing some paperwork. People were sitting in the waiting area, waiting, I assumed, for one of the clerks to become available and invite the next-in-line. I sat down, and within a few minutes, someone entered the office, and headed straight for the clerk doing the paperwork. After exchanging their greetings, the newcomer caught my gaze, understood the situation, and immediately invited me to talk to the clerk before him. Apparently the people in the room were waiting for something else, and I was supposed to have interrupted the clerk on arrival. Most locals in every other place I have visited would have taken advantage of me, never mind been sensitive enough to notice and consider my position. Importantly, I feel like this was not a fluke. Although most of my experiences with the kindness of people here are subtle and individually unimpressive, I am confident that anyone here would go out of their way to help me, even if doing so would send them in the complete opposite direction.

I came to Samoa not to be the recipient of kindness, but to help SPBD with Kiva-related processes. Over the last two weeks, I have been learning how the microfinance institution operates, going over their procedures and the new Kiva interface with the office staff, planning ways to improve their processes, and arranging excursions into the field to write journals. Still, I have not overlooked the fact that I have had the luck to be placed on this beautiful island. Accordingly, I have been exploring quite a bit, and yes, it is extremely beautiful. Upolu is one of the two main islands comprising Samoa, and where I have been staying. It is covered by thick greenery, exotically painted flowers, and white beaches riddled with palm trees. To my peers in Sudan and Azerbaijan, please take comfort in knowing that most of the beaches are occupied by coral. As my scraped hands and knees can attest, this makes for unpleasant swimming.

I look forward to discovering more about Samoa, especially the effects of microfinance and Kiva on the people here. This should happen when I meet borrowers in the field starting in the next few days. Until then, be sure to borrow a page from the Samoan way of life, take it easy, and know that no hardship is worth being unhappy for. I’m constantly reminded of the first sentence I read about Samoa: “If relaxing was an Olympic sport, Samoa would win gold.”

5 comments 29 October 2008

News Flash

Earlier this month, the Rwandan government announced that French was no longer to be the official language of communication and teaching. Currently, French is used as the language of instruction in over 95% of schools; all of them must now switch to English. In addition to schools, government workers must be fluent in English. The agenda is effectively to phase out French in the country.

I heard this news, of course, with some astonishment. Were the teachers going to learn English overnight? What were the implications of switching languages for millions of Francophone employees and civil workers? For high school and college kids already dealing with quarter-life crises? My first inclination was to interpret the announcement as a sort of grand political gesticulation, not unlike a motion for certain wars. This I read as foolhardy: postcolonialism might be all the rage, but after all I haven’t heard of Mexico abolishing Spanish.

To my surprise, my colleagues and friends took this news with all due nonchalance. Oh that’s nice, they said – it was a move that neither surprised nor nonplussed any of them. As they explained to me, the change had been justified for two reasons:

As has been well documented, the first is political. The soured French-Rwandan relations after the 1994 genocide undeniably smolders in the background of the decision. A report this year from an official commission investigating the role of France in the Genocide alleged that the French provided weapons and support to Hutu-extremists behind the killings, and furthermore facilitated the escape of militants from the pursuit of justice. Rwanda has over the past decade made several motions to sever ties with France, including the shutdown of the French embassy and the French-Rwanda cultural exchange center in Kigali.

However, the main reason on record for the move (as stated by Industry and Trade Minister Vincent Karega) is business – English is, in his words, the “backbone for growth and development not only in the region but around the globe” – while French is, he dismisses, “spoken only in France, some parts of West Africa, and parts of Canada and Switzerland.” The business impetus became even more important in recent years, after Rwanda joined the English-speaking East African Community, consisting of Rwanda, Burundi, Uganda, Kenya, and Tanzania.

Admittedly, my indifferent colleagues say, the change will not be easy for many citizens of Rwanda. But they’re not concerned, quite simply, because for the majority of Rwandans neither French nor English is lingua franca; Kinyarwanda remains currency. As with many other matters, the shift mandated by top-level announcements does not reach very far below.

By some estimates, English is spoken by 3% of the population. French is spoken by around 8%. In the marketplaces and streets, transactions continue as usual; money and goods exchanged hands as they always have, in the vernacular. Here at VFC the loan officers looked at the headlines, shrugged, and saw little of relevance for the clients they serve.

1 comment 29 October 2008

Tajikistan’s “White Gold”

It’s easy to tell when cotton season has arrived in Tajikistan, not because of a change in temperature or rainfall but because university students start disappearing from the city. Each Fall universities throughout Tajikistan come to a standstill as hoards of students are sent to do unofficially mandatory labor in the cotton fields. They are often paid little or not at all; are forced to abandon their studies and jobs; and risk loosing their diploma if they decide not to go. While this practice is officially illegal in Tajikistan, it is still widespread and devastating.

Tajikistan’s economy and culture are dominated by cotton. The industry employs roughly 50% of the country’s labor force, accounts for 15% of its exports, and is the biggest contributor to Tajikistan’s GDP. Everyone here has a story about how cotton has affected their life, their family, or their job. It is everywhere and it affects everyone. It even affects IMON, the microfinance agency that I am working for as part of my Kiva Fellowship.

A couple weeks ago 2 of my colleagues at IMON, also students at the local university, were called to work the fields. They were only given a few hours to prepare for a difficult two week venture: it is likely they will work long days without rest, sleep in the fields, become exposed to dangerous pesticides, and receive little in the way of nourishment. They could always pay the $100 bribe, a steal by most Western standards (including my own), but a hefty sum for the average Tajikistan worker.

A dark cloud slowly crept over the office as that day progressed. Almost everyone identified with the futility of the situation – they had also been forced to pick cotton and knew what the students were in for. The managers at IMON tried to pull some strings in order to free their employees from the assignment. But several hours spent making phone calls was only partially successful: one of the employees was able to shirk the responsibility but the other, one of the Kiva staff, was forced to leave. In addition, another staff person was asked to abandon their own job and take over the student’s Kiva responsibilities, including posting the month’s available loans on the Kiva site.

And it’s not just students that have been ordered to pick cotton. The IMON deputy director’s wife has also been called into the fields. As a doctor and a government employee, she is required to pick cotton one day a week during the season. She is older than most of her fellow pickers and is only able to pick around 10 kilos a day. And what does this established doctor receive for her day’s work in the fields? Around 74 cents! It costs her twice that amount to take the bus to and from the field, in addition to the lunch she must purchase for herself.

Since that day, I have learned more about cotton than I ever thought was possible. I’ve heard countless opinions on what’s wrong with the system and how the government should fix it. But, the deeper I dig, the more I realize just how complex the situation really is.

Is it the fault of the government?

In most cases the cotton farmers do not own the land on which they farm. They lease the land directly from the government, which in turn sets fixed prices on the cotton. The government also exercises strict control over what is grown on the land and in what quantity. While other crops like potatoes, melons, and wheat are often much more profitable to grow, the government has imposed unrealistic quotas that require farmers to dedicate most of their land to cotton.

Publicly, the government opposes student labor but they tend to turn a blind eye this time a year. They see cotton as a way for Tajikistan to compete globally. After all, the country is still recovering from a devastating civil war in the early 90’s and, previous to that, decades under the heavy hand of Soviet control. Their economic development has since relied heavily on agricultural exports, especially cotton. But their ability to remain competitive in this market is constantly constrained and challenged by the global downward push on prices.

Is it the fault of the farmers?

Farmers stepped in to develop the cotton industry after the Soviets left and have faced difficulties in finding the local investment needed to make much-needed upgrades to their equipment. They instead have been forced to seek outside financial investment from ‘futures companies’ that set strict and unreasonable quotas for the farms. If at the end of the season a farmer has not met those numbers they are subjected to high interest rates on the initial loans, which they cannot begin to pay off until the following season.

Is it the fault of the universities?

Many argue that the universities do not have to force the students to work in the fields – it is illegal, right? In addition, the universities have been charged with withholding payments that the students receive for their time in the fields. These funds are instead used to purchase books and supplies that they can’t normally afford.

Is it the fault of banks?

Farmers argue that they would be able to break the downward cycle if they simply had access to equitable funding. They would be able to repair and upgrade their equipment, thereby allowing them to improve the efficiency of their operations and produce a higher quality product that can earn more on the global market. But most reputable financial agencies within Tajikistan won’t provide these loans because they don’t want to get involved with the issue of forced student labor.

Breaking Free

The reality is that it is not the fault of one agency or one group. And the problem cannot be resolved unless all of the main players step up and work together.

In the meantime, we will just have to wait. My co-worker was supposed to be gone for two weeks, but that time has already come and gone. The staff at IMON is hoping that he will back soon, although many worry that he could be gone until December…..that’s how long they were forced to work in the fields when they were in college.

Want to learn more?

Check out this recent article in the NY Times and this report by the International Labor Rights Forum.

Thanks again for all of your support – Carrie Ferrence, working with IMON International in Tajikistan.

2 comments 29 October 2008

Welcome to the 3 K’s: K-MET, Kisumu, Kenya

When I last corresponded with you, dear Kiva Fellows Blog reader, I was still in my home country, chucking trespassing snakes out of my house and considering whether just one bottle of Pepto-Bismol would be enough for 10 months on a foreign continent. 

I write to you now from my desk at K-MET, in Kisumu Kenya, my home for the next 3 months (Kisumu, you know, hopefully not the desk).  I am drinking my morning tea, which is scalding hot, milky and sweet with just a hint of spice, listening to the roosters in the yard and the chatter of birds waft in through the open window.

I arrived in the country 9 days ago, on a rainy Sunday night in Nairobi. After a long travel day and a tedious visa queue, I was very happy to see the smiling face of a fellow Kiva Fellow, Dave, who was kind enough to meet me at the airport.  I spent the next two days benefiting from Dave’s semi-veteran status as he helped me navigate matatus in the city, and from the hospitality of Kiva Partner Development Specialist David Kitusa’s family. I was lucky to have such a wonderful start to this experience.

David Kitusa was scheduled to be meeting with my host organization K-MET that Wednesday, a coincidental piece of good fortune. From the Kisumu airport, David and I took a taxi down some bumpy roads to the K-MET office, where we were warmly welcomed with carved wooden necklaces.  I immediately liked the place. Now, I’m not saying that I can be won over by a necklace, but this was a really cool necklace. Each member of the staff was friendly and kind, extremely generous with their welcomes. I felt very much at home and could tell that I would enjoy coming into work each day to work along side such nice people.

We were treated to a power point presentation giving a background of K-MET and what the organization does in the community. I was, frankly, blown away. As I continue to see each day the work the organization does and how it strives to create innovative and practical solutions for vulnerable people, I realize even more how valuable their work is for the community. And I’ve only been here 6 days.

K-MET is the Kisumu Medical and Education Trust. It is an indigenous non-governmental organization that was started by a group of Kenyans in Nairobi in 1995. It now operates in 5 of the 8 Kenyan provinces, with its headquarters in Kisumu. Their mission is to promote development of underserved communities through innovative health and education programs.

K-MET was originally founded in order to address reproductive health care.  While abortion is illegal in Kenya, many back alley abortions are still performed, and this contributes to the region’s high rate of maternal mortality (1,000 deaths per 100,000 births compared to a US rate of 17 deaths to 100,000 births). K-MET provides post abortion care and promotes family planning and contraceptive use in order to create an environment where every child is wanted.

K-MET has expanded over the years to provide a wide range of health care services in communities through clinics and home based care programs. I could go on and on about their different programs: the clinical services, the home based care, the nutrition program, the program Sisterhood for Change, which provides skills training for girls out of school…

But you, who have stuck with me this far, must be wondering how microfinance plays into all of this. Other Kiva partners are solely microfinance institutions and here I am typing incessantly about health care. K-MET is an interesting Kiva Partner in that their primary focus is indeed not on microfinance. Rather, the microfinance program supplements their broader vision of meeting communities’ health needs. The microfinance program was initiated in 2004 and they began their partnership with Kiva in 2006. K-MET has big ideas for the program and I am excited to learn what they have in store for the future.

Perhaps you have browsed through K-MET’s clients on the Kiva website and are now thinking, “wait! I see how a doctor purchasing an ultrasound machine is health related, but selling charcoal? That’s a stretch…” While some loans are made to Private Network Providers with health facilities, in order to make improvements to their clinics and services, others are made to what are known as Community Based Service Providers. These are people who work in the Home Based Care program for K-MET as volunteers and have a business from which they receive their income, selling charcoal for example.  With a loan from K-MET and Kiva, they are able to maintain a steady revenue flow, and even increase profits, allowing them to continue their volunteer work caring for patients.

I have started attending borrower group meetings and even had the opportunity to talk to four women about their loan applications yesterday. Hopefully you will see Yucabeth, who is applying for a loan in order to purchase vegetables for her vegetable stand, on the Kiva website soon!

Yucabeth Akinyi Ochieng

 

I want to leave you with a video created by a former intern at K-MET. Sadly, the portion on the microfinance department is extremely short, but it will give you a bit of an idea of the organization as a whole. 


13 comments 29 October 2008


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