It is not hard for a Lebanese to detect my disguised Egyptian Arabic accent, so it’s been quite common for me to be asked how long I have been in Lebanon, whether this is my first time, and of course what I’m doing here in Lebanon every time I meet someone. Most recently this happened to me at a local Resto-Pub in Hasbaya after a 10km hike. The Resto-Pub owner, Fayez, and I quickly got to talking and as usual it wasn’t long before I was aked ”What do you do here in Lebanon?” Although, I’m fluent in Arabic explaining what micro-finance means is really hard!

Fayez (middle, in black), Mirage Resto-Pub owner & his friends

Microfinance in Arabic translates literally to: Small Funding (التمويل الأصغر) or Small Loans (القروض الصغيرة). To the average Lebanese (or Arab for that matter) this is not something that they are used to hearing. So, I usually get a couple of raised eyebrows, puzzled looks and then the follow-up questions start streaming in: “Oh so you work at a bank? In the loan department?” or “You mean you’re an accountant?” or the more sophisticated in the series of follow-up questions “Yes, those loans for small business owners, right?” I usually struggle a bit; I take a deep breath and I start explaining what micro-credit and micro-finance is. I tend to throw in words like: “lack of access to the banking system“, “Mohamed Yunus” and “giving the poor financial stability”. But even after a little bit of explaining, I still don’t know if I’m getting the point across. And I often find that when I say “loan” people immediately ask “How can I get one for my business?” These regular occurrences made me start wondering what do Microfinance Institutions (MFIs) around the world to overcome this challenge and lack of knowledge on the subject by the general public? And how important is it for the common person to really know and understand what microfinance really is?

In my search, I decided to turn to Al Majmoua to see what they have done in the past and are doing about the subject of microfinance awareness in Lebanon. In a country of 4 million people and 18 recognized sects it is hard to maintain a non-religious, non-political, independent face. During my last field visit, while Wisam, the Loan Analyst and I were waiting for a borrower to come home we started chatting with a shop-owner. He asked us what we were doing and who we worked for. Wisam went on to explain who Al Majmoua is and what the mission was. The shop-owner looked at us smiled and said “Sounds good, but who are you with?” A question that is extremely expected and normal in Lebanon, most organizations have some sort of political and religious affiliation, but Al Majmoua doesn’t and plans on keeping it that way.

Aside from local municipality billboards, a limited number of radio ads, and an innovative Taxi-side ads, Al Majmoua has never been involved in large scale promotion campaigns using TV ads or billboards mainly because of the high cost of such campaigns. Beyond that Al Majmoua’s awareness campaigns about microcredit have been focused on policy makers, funders, and universities through local community meetings. Additionally, being out in the open and marketing heavily means people will start asking questioning Al Majmoua’s political and religious affiliations.

Al Majmoua Taxi Campaign in 2000 (Source: Al Majmoua 2000 Annual Report)

These are some of the many challenges that Al Majmoua faces when it starts thinking about it’s marketing and awareness campaigns and strategies, especially since the organization has been very cautious and succeeded since day-one with its own staff and clients to remain non-partisan, apolitical, non religious and non discriminatory organization in Lebanon. Top 3 things Al Majmoua can do to market its mission without getting too many questions:

• Town-hall: hold town-hall meetings in communities they don’t currently operate in to educate potential borrowers about microfinance and Al Majmoua’s mission.
• Non-financial Services: start a referral program to the non-financial services it offers to other NGOs who work with diverse communities.
• Microfinance Clubs on University Campuses: partner with universities to help start and establish Microfinance Clubs/Student Groups on university campuses where students can act as Al Majmoua Ambassadors.

Kiva borrower Jóse in his store in the Lo Espejo neighborhood of Santiago, Chile

Microfinance is about change- positive change for borrowers, their local economies, and the future of the developing world. This week our Fellows share stories of change across the globe: a brighter outcome for the children of Kiva borrowers in Sierra Leone; transformed businesses and microenterprises in Chile; and a lifestyle of adapting to change, for better or worse, in Lebanon, where resolute entrepreneurs still pay their loans on time.

It’s true what they say- these really are Loans that Change Lives.

The Externalities of it All
Country: Sierra Leone / Fellow: Eric Rindal, KF15

As Eric begins work with his second Kiva field parter, he introduces us to the most meaningful externalities of microfinance (and their parents) in Sierra Leone. Loan by loan, brick by brick, borrowers are building more concrete futures for their children and their country.

Faces from the field: A day of visits and photos from Chile
Country: Chile / Fellow: John Gwillim, KF14 & KF15

From seventy-eight-year-old Jóse to the impregnable Compartiendo Esfuerzo (Sharing Effort) Communal Bank, John gives us a few glimpses of the business savvy of Kiva entrepreneurs and what they’re doing to ensure the success of their micro-enterprises.

Adapting to Change: Lessons from Lebanon
Country: Lebanon / Fellow: Heba Gamal, KF15

Heba downsizes her living quarters in Lebanon, and while she waits for a return to normalcy she observes a lifestyle of adapting to change all around her. As Heba shows us, “it seems like one thing the Lebanese have learned to do over years of conflict and unrest is to adapt. In many ways they’ve made their things fit into many small rooms over the decades, just like  I have this past Sunday.”

*      *       *

Updates from the past month:

Dangerous Streets, New Vocabulary + A Senegalese Spring
Zulu Weddings, More Country-Specific Microfinance + Fighting Crime 
Roads, Remittances + the “Little Paris” of Togo
New Partners, Country-Specific Microfinance + Stories of a Kiva Fellowship
Mosquito Nets, Rock Climbing + Clearing the Air

*      *       *

Plus more pictures from the past week:

By John Gwillim, Chile

By John Gwillim, Chile

By Eric Rindal, Sierra Leone

I had been living in my beautifully spacious room with an extra bed to host visitors for about a month when the landlord informed me that I will have to move to the smallest room in the house because a big group of performers and artists are coming and they had booked all the big rooms in the house in advance. I was really not looking forward to leaving the room; I had made it my own, put pictures and postcards up, friends had come and stayed with me in it, but most importantly I had no idea how I was going to fit all my belongings that now seem to have grown in size into the smallest tiniest room in the house.

My old spacious room in Beirut

But no matter how much I didn’t want this move to take place or how worries I was about my stuff fitting I had to make the move. So, I spent 3 hours of my Sunday moving things from one room to the other. After I had moved everything out of my spacious room into my now very tiny room I paused, looked around and was amazed at how everything fit. All my things suddenly had a new place in this new room. They and I somehow made it work. We adapted very quickly.

My new small room in Beirut

This sense of quick and sudden adaptation reminded me of my field visits the previous week. I went to the field on Tuesday right after a highly anticipated speech by Hezbollah‘s leader Hassan Nasrallah about the recent U.N. court issued indictment of 4 Hezbollah members  in the 2005 assassination of former Lebanese Prime Minister Rafik Hariri. I watched the Nasrallah speech with a group of friends over dinner. The reaction was underwhelming. Everyone spoke of how important his speech was, but no one quite knew what this importance meant; at least I didn’t, until I went to the field that week.

I met with 6 borrowers and every time the loan analyst, Wisam, and I would ask them how business was going. They would smile (often point at the TV if they had one) and say “Terrible! As you know, but what can we do but wait and see.” I asked directly if the impact of such speeches and political changes is felt so quickly by the common citizen and the answer I received from all those I have asked was the same “This is Lebanon!” As one of my dear Lebanese friend’s lightly put it “we wait for one (could be anyone) person to make a speech so we can plan our lives accordingly. War or no war. Stability or instability.”

It seems like one thing the Lebanese have learned to do over years of conflict and unrest is to adapt. In many ways they’ve made their things fit into many small rooms over the decades, just like I have this past Sunday.

Heba Gamal is a member of KF15 and works with Al Majmoua – The Lebanese Association for Development in Beirut, Lebanon – check out their Kiva Partner Page. Also, join the Friends of Al Majmoua lending team now!

Pig loans in Indonesia (by Anne Conlin)

This week, fellows located on three different continents were busy writing blogs to share their experiences. Learn what it takes to become a new Kiva partner in Ecuador, experience family-style microfinance in Lebanon, find out about a unique pig loan product in Indonesia, and get the inside scoop about being a Kiva fellow in Senegal.

What Does it Take to be Kiva Field Partner: New Partnerships in the Middle of the World, Part I
Country: Ecuador / Fellow: Kate Bennett (KF15)
Kate tells us about the 7-step process a microfinance institution must follow before becoming a Kiva partner and how she is helping Fundación Alternativa to complete step 7.

New Partnerships in the Middle of the World, Part II
Country: Ecuador / Fellow: Megan Bond (KF15)
Continuing the series on new partners in Ecuador, Megan describes FODEMI’s first steps as a Kiva partner.

Micro-finance Family Style
Country: Lebanon / Fellow: Heba Gamal (KF15)
Heba is thrilled to be a temporary member of Al Majmoua family, a Kiva partner in Lebanon.

Pig Loans in Paradise: Microfinance for Livestock in West Bali, Indonesia
Country: Indonesia / Fellow: Anne Conlin (KF15)
Anne sheds some light on a unique loan product in Indonesia, the Pig Breeder Group Loan Program, which targets groups of ten female neighbors.

This. Is. Africa! Some stories of a Kiva Fellowship
Country: Senegal / Fellow: Tim Young (KF15)
A few weeks into his fellowship Senegal, Tim looks at some of the different aspects involved in being a Kiva Fellow, from meeting innovative borrowers to appearing on TV.

~
Updates from the past month:
Mosquito Nets, Rock Climbing + Clearing the Air
Instability, Trust + A New Home
Unsung Heroes, Community Alliances + and Mission Statements Made Reality
Personal Connections, Supply and Demand + A Culinary Excursion
Farewells, Mistaken Identities + Micro-Microfinance
~

Plus more pictures from the past week:

Ecuador (by Kate Bennett)

Ecuador (by Megan Bond)

Lebanon (by Heba Gamal)

Indonesia (by Anne Conlin)

Senegal (by Tim Young)

“It is when you give of yourself that you truly give.” – Gibran Khalil Gibran, The Prophet

Having grown up in Egypt, I know that family is an important part of daily life in the Middle East. So, when it came to my Kiva Fellowship – I knew that in Lebanon I was going to be well-fed, watched over and taken care of. What I didn’t know is how this family-style love I was too familiar with was going to translate into the workings of micro-finance in Lebanon.

Al Majmoua's Headquarters in Beirut, Lebanon

When I arrived at Al Majmoua‘s Headquarters in the heart of Beirut, I was met by the head of Human Resources and Business Development, Alia. After a thorough 2-hour overview and introduction to Al Majmoua; one of my first questions to Alia was how long she’s been with the organization (followed, of course, by where the best place for lunch around was). The answer was: “10 years!” The idea of someone being in one organization for that long caught me by surprise, but it wasn’t until I started meeting other Al Majmoua team members that I started realizing that there’s something that keeps people here this long. Dr. Youssef, Al Majmoua’s executive director, has been with the organization for more than 11 years. Nadine, Al Majmoua’s Kiva Coordinator and Research & Development Assistant has been with the organization for more than 9 years. She’s done everything from being a Loan Analyst to Internal Auditing to HR and now Kiva. Nadine even left Al Majmoua for a year, but quickly found herself back at Al Majmoua.

This sense of familial love and belonging isn’t just apparent by the number of years people have been here; it’s in their attitude! In a country such as Lebanon, where sectarianism has had a long and tragic impact on the people and the country – it’s refreshing and inspiring to watch a network of ~170 employees all over Lebanon maintaining a family style work environment.

On my first field visit at the Beirut Branch, the Branch Supervisor, Diala, sat me down for a thorough introduction of the branch operations and procedure. During our conversation she said something that stuck with me: “Everyone at Al Majmoua behaves as if this is their home.” Later that day, I was introduced to Ismail, an Al Majmoua Loan Analyst. He was going to be my guide for the day. The plan was to go meet 2 new borrowers and check on a couple of existing Kiva borrowers.

Ismail's "Motto"

I had been carefully asked and semi-warned the day before by Nadine that I will be joining Ismail on his scooter or as the Lebanese call it “Motto”. Ismail was zooming through the Palestinian refugee camps and neighborhoods only like a local from the area would. Micro-finance is highly dependent on social relationships and reputation within the community. Ismail is a local; when he walks the streets of Beirut’s suburbs and refugee camps people know him as their neighbor. During our field visits, we ran into his father-in-law and cousin separately.

When Al Majmoua first started in the late 1990′s half of its staff was made up of former borrowers. Now with ~170 employees and 14 branches across Lebanon, Al Majmoua still tires to keep the family connections strong. Today, roughly 30% of the loan analysts are former Al Majmoua borrowers themselves or  are friends and/or relatives of current borrowers. Utilizing SMS technology, Al Majmoua’s HR team sends out job vacancy ads to their pool of borrowers to get referrals and applicants. This sense of “community first” extends to the interactions between borrowers themselves and how they view Al Majmoua.

Father & Son Al Majmoua Borrowers - Beirut, Lebanon

In “relationship-driven cultures”, like Lebanon, personal relationships are built on the basis of social interactions especially within the family and community.  My first stop with Ismail was a new female borrower, Nadia; she heard about Al Majmoua through her  sister-in-law who is on her 3rd loan cycle. Next we stopped to check up on longtime Al Majmoua borrower Mohamed and his son, Salah, a recent Al Majmoua borrower as well. During our visit, borrowers greeted Ismail and I like family. Often inviting us into their homes or businesses for an afternoon drink or snack. They often asked Ismail if he had received a call from a friend or a relative that they had recommended Al Majmoua to. Word-of-Mouth seems to be the organization’s strongest and most effective marketing tool.

Besides being well-fed and taken care of  as part of the family, I’m thrilled to be a temporary family member of an organization that stays true to itself and its community!

 Nearly two weeks ago all Hezbollah ministers  withdrew from the cabinet, resulting in the collapse of the fragile government which had struggled to make progress in the eighteen months it had existed.  Last Monday the UN Special Tribunal for Lebanon(STL) announced that it had passed indictments for the assassination of Prime Minister Harriri in 2005, to the trial  judge for consideration on whether to issue arrest warrants.

At present no one knows who the STL has concluded carried out the assassination, but it is widely expected that it will find members of Hezbollah responsible.  Hezbollah denies any involvement and blames a number of different parties and believes that there has been false testimony. The main issue facing the future government will be how to deal with the results of the inquiry.  Hezbollah put pressure on the last  government to denounce and discredit the inquiry, whilst the international  community continues to stress the importance that the STL continues to its conclusion and those responsible for the assassination be held accountable.

As if this didn’t make for a complicated enough situation given Lebanon’s location in the heart of the Middle East there are several countries trying to influence the political situation to  further their own agendas or to protect themselves.  Over the past week a number of different countries have been trying to mediate to reach a peaceful solution.  Saudi Arabia and Syria have been actively working to resolve the situation for a few months, and Qatar and Turkey also attempted mediation.  Israel and Iran are also keeping a watchful eye on events.

So what does this mean for the people of Lebanon?  Everything is up in the air, no one knows what or when something is going to happen.  In the past politics has often turned to sectarian violence, and there is very real possibility this could happen again.  In 2008 violence erupted resulting in approx 100 deaths in 2 days, there was the war with Israel in 2006 and of course the previous civil war.  So every Lebanese person over the age of two has lived through violence on the streets of Beirut and fears that it could happen again.

The day after the government collapsed before going to the office where I am volunteering through the Kiva Fellows Programme I rang to see if it was safe and everyone laughed at me, ‘this is normal for us not to have a government’ was the general consensus.  People are cautious but daily life continues!

This weekend we went skiing and the queues for the chairlift proved that people weren’t hiding indoors or fleeing the country.  On Saturday night 20,000 people went to see Armin van Burren ‘the world’s number one DJ’ with international singers and the atmosphere was one of anything but fear.  In short life carries on, people know from past experience that anything could happen often without warning, but in the meantime they are making the most of the current standoff.

Speaking to the director of Ameen a field partner of there Kiva here in Lebanon, there  has been no noticeable effect so far on the demand for and repayment of microfinance loans.  But it will be interesting  to see what happens over coming weeks.  From my experience working with CHF International ACSI which provides microfinance loans in Iraq, microfinance continues as usual and provides vital support to businesses in difficult political and economic circumstances.  ACSI currently maintains a repayment rate of 99% and Lebanese MFI’s have an average rate of 98%.  Whilst obviously I am hoping that a peaceful solution is found, it would be interesting to compare the demand for and repayment of microfinance loans in Lebanon and Iraq in periods of political instability. 

The only certainty is that the future is uncertain and there is a strong possibility that by the time you read this further changes will have been made to the political alliances that are currently being forged and broken in a power struggle which appears to have no straightforward solution. The one thing which strikes me most is that no one seems to be consulting the Lebanese people on who they want to run the country and how they wish to respond to the results of the investigation of the assassination of their elected prime minister.

Caroline Pattinson is currently living in Beirut, Lebanon volunteering with CHF International ACSI as part of the Kiva Fellows Programme

Office Christmas Tree

Over the past couple of days the whole of Beirut has been transformed into a festive wonderland, with sparkling lights adorning trees, shops and anything close enough to an electrical socket. Given the fact that Lebanon is in the Middle East many people are surprised by the size of the Christian community, admittedly you can’t walk 100 metres without passing a mosque, but for every minaret and dome there is a church spire.

It is refreshing that in contrast to the UK where Christmas advertisements and songs appear in November and sometimes October, that the focus is not on buying the latest ‘must have’ present, but on the spirit of Christmas.
With 18 different official religious sects in the country, Lebanon has a large number of national holidays, since I began my fellowship with ACSI in November, we have celebrated Eid, Independence Day, Islamic New Year and we will celebrate Ashura this week, Christmas next , New Years and then Armenian Christmas on 6th January.

Islamic Lights

With so many Lebanese holidays, coupled with national holidays in Iraq where all our branches and borrowers are based, it has been a bit of a slow process getting the loan profiles uploaded onto the Kiva website, especially as there are different working weeks, Sunday to Thursday in Iraq and Monday to Friday in Lebanon.

Festive Palm Trees

But we have managed to reach a milestone and posted $50,000 worth of loans on www.kiva.org this month which is the maximum that ACSI is currently able to raise, and double the amount of previous months lending. So far half of the loans have been funded which is fantastic and fingers crossed that they will all be fully funded before the start of 2011.

Caroline Pattinson is currently serving as a Kiva Fellow, with CHF ACSI, (Access to Credit Services Initiative) Iraq in Beirut, Lebanon. To join the ACSI funding group and receive regular updates on their work and loans   click  here.

Last Friday, the 26th November, I was lucky enough to spend the morning with Georgette, one of Al Majmoua’s loan agents based in their Nwayri office, in Beirut.

Georgette had very kindly made time to take me around to see some of her clients, for whom I wanted to write journal updates (the short emails letting lenders know how the people they’ve loaned to are getting along, particularly in relation to their loans & businesses).

Although we only spent a morning together, I was immediately reminded of what an integral role the MFI loan officers/agents play in the whole industry of Micro Finance, without whom no amount of good will, policy and planning could effect the very real social & financial benefits that organizations like Kiva and Al Majmoua aspire to achieve.

More than once during our conversations, Georgette mentioned that there is “no such thing as a bad client, only a bad loan”. Although I think I may have heard these words before, I possibly hadn’t realized to what degree they ought to be the mantra for all micro finance delivery and, as in Georgette’s case, quite often are.

Georgette - Al Majmoua Loan Agent

Georgette has worked with Al Majmoua for 12 years and as a Loan Agent in Nwayri for the last 5. As we drove around the neighbourhood in which she works, it became clear that Georgette was very much a part of the community, stopping every few minutes to exchange a few words with people as we wound our way through the narrow streets perched on the hills overlooking Beirut.

During the morning, Georgette mentioned that she took great pains to look at the household & business budgets of her clients when they applied for loans. She would never, she insisted, allow them to take on a loan that was beyond their means to repay, even if they technically qualified for a larger amount. To do so and have them fall into arrears with their repayments, would indicate that the amount loaned was “bad” and not the client themselves. Rather than do this, Georgette described how she would suggest a more reasonable sum and take the time to explain her decision to the client, who would, invariably, end up agreeing with her reasoning.

Georgette is very aware that to allow her clients to over extend themselves, risks subverting the very mission Al Majmoua strives towards, namely to “improve the quality of life of the most vulnerable by providing them with appropriate tools to make their way out of poverty with pride”.
There is a definite line between helping people to improve their lives through access to credit & simply allowing them to become so indebted that their day to day lives are dictated by the necessity of servicing their creditors.
In an industry that is increasingly attracting large capital funds, overly excited at the prospect of interest rate returns in excess of more traditional investments, it is reassuring to know that the well being of individual entrepreneurs remains at the heart of Al Majmoua’s work.

As we drove around Nwayri, stopping to speak to active clients, past borrowers, their families and their neighbours; discussing how business was going, the length of time clients were queuing at the post office to make repayments and all manner of other local news, it became increasingly evident that Georgette is as much a sister, a neighbour, an aunty & a friend to the people she works with as she is a Loan Agent disbursing loans on behalf of Al Majmoua and Kiva. In return, Georgette’s clients are, in her eyes, much more than a quota of case files but an extended family who look forward to meeting one another & keep in touch during the holidays.

As Kiva lenders, you can rest assured that your funds and your desire to contribute to the improvement of your fellow beings’ lives are in safe hands with Loan Agents like Georgette and her colleagues at Al Majmoua. Having met & spent time, not only with Georgette, but also with Arab, an extremely resilient Loan Agent from the Tayouneh office, I have not failed to be impressed with the professionalism, energy & compassion with which they approach their work.

If are interested in supporting the work of Al Majmoua, you might consider joining their Kiva lending team where you can receive & exchange news about Al Majmoua´s work as well as join forces in supporting individual borrowers with whom Al Majmoua are working.

Josh Richards is a Kiva Fellow in KF13, working with Al Majmoua – the Lebanese Association for Development, in Beirut, Lebanon.

This morning (15th November 2010) I sat down at my desk and discovered that a loan request for $1000, that I had posted onto Kiva’s website last Friday, had gone live & been fully funded over the weekend – by just 2 funders!

public sculpture - Beirut

I cannot help but feel a little lighter in my seat with a big grin forming on my face, having played the tiniest of roles in linking two lenders, from Dallas & New Orleans in North America, with a painter from the Lebanon who needed to repair his van. A single, wonderful act of solidarity between 3 people, via Kiva and Al Majmoua.

Now obviously, as a long´ish term lender on Kiva myself, I realise that loans are posted & funded in huge numbers, every day, from all over the World – business as usual in the field of micro finance. So all the more surprising to experience such a buzz at reading “This loan has been FULLY FUNDED by 2 lenders!”, in this one particular instance.

However, since coming to Beirut 2 weeks ago, I’ve come to realize that the Kiva Fellowship program can be full of the most unexpected surprises.

As Caroline, another Kiva Fellow in Beirut, wrote (Phoenix from the Rubble), I also had quite a mixed bag of emotions upon discovering that I was set to spend the next 4 months living & working in Beirut. On the one hand, the excitement of being a step closer to working for Kiva and one of their partners abroad, on the other hand, a certain amount of trepidation that it was in an area which elicits quite fraught associations, based on the limited exposure in the international media & consciousness that Lebanon receives, often based solely on the regional conflicts of recent years.

However, a little bit of research revealed that Lebanon had been nominated in the top 10 destinations to visit in 2009, by both the Lonely Planet & New York Times, which went a long way to allaying my initial concerns & those of my friends in the UK.

The reality I have found upon arriving in Lebanon has been even more enlightening, a different “kettle of fish” altogether (or “pot of prawns”, as our Kiva Fellows Program Coordinator, Julie, might say).

From my first night celebrating Halloween in Gymmeze, dancing with numerous Beirutis dressed as Vampires, bloody Mummies & killer Zombies, to the overwhelmingly awesome & beautiful caves of Jeita, I have found numerous sides to the Lebanon that I had never anticipated.

Place d´Etoile

In Lebanon, & even within the city of Beirut itself, there is an amazingly complex racial, religious & political demographic which I can expect to only superficially comprehend, even by the end of my time here 3 and a half months from now. But in the streets, markets, security barricades, cafes, bars, offices & taxis, I have been lucky enough to meet the most friendly, chatty people you can imagine, the ubiquitous “Welcome to Lebanon” being uttered with almost comical frequency.

The city itself seems to be a patchwork of smart new housing & business developments, older French colonial & traditional Arabic architecture, semi derelict buildings pockmarked by bullet & shell holes, hastily rebuilt neighbourhoods with minimal facilities and whatever else I’ve yet to encounter. The sight of which, gives some clues as to the varied & extreme circumstances people have experienced here, in recent & not so recent years.

However, as will be no surprise to most people, other than perhaps those who, like me, have had the luxury of living in countries where stability & security can be largely taken for granted, the country and the people here seem to strive onwards with immense energy & resilience.

The MFI I am working for, Al Majmoua, has gone from strength to strength since it’s inception in 1994 as a Save the Children micro finance program, becoming fully autonomous in 1998. Al Majmoua now has somewhere in the region of 25,000 active clients, maintaining a portfolio of well over $10,000,000 USD with a resolute & dedicated team of 125 employees working in 14 branch offices across Lebanon and their head office in Beirut.

Aside from Al Majmoua’s internationally recognized successes as a micro finance institute, facilitating the inherent entrepreneurial spirit of the people living in Lebanon and their desire to grow, recover & develop both their lives & the country, Al Majmoua performs many more social roles for the communities within which it operates.

Aside from the fashion shows, trade fairs, business development & diagnosis workshops, networking forums, personal development courses and other non financial services Al Majmoua offers, they have also been able to utilise their skills, local knowledge, contacts & facilities to assist with post conflict recovery and emergency response and distribution.

As a result of the 2006 war, 30% of it’s clients had sustained damage to their businesses and/or lives with whole communities facing considerable difficulties. In partnership with international aid organizations & NGOs, Al Majmoua opened 15 safe spaces in the most affected areas to host children for a few hours a day, offering sports, educational & cultural activities helping more than 1,000 children cope with the stress of that summer & the tense atmosphere at home.

words on the street - "It Shouldn´t Hurt to be a Child"

Another partnership resulted in Al Majmoua being able to replace equipment for 353 of their micro entrepreneurs who had had their businesses heavily damaged or destroyed. Yet another partnership saw the distribution of emergency kits to the families of 150 clients who had been displaced by the conflict.

During this time, Al Majmoua maintained it’s full repayment policy, rescheduling loans for those most affected and granting grace periods of 1-6 months where necessary. Incredibly, in the year following the conflict, Al Majmoua had managed not only to recover without any external financial assistance or subsidy, but to attain 40% growth, that same year they became a partner MFI with Kiva.

If you would like to support the work of Al Majmoua & their borrowers further, you might like to join the Al Majmoua Lebanese Assoc. for Development lending team, a group of Kiva lenders funding Al Majmoua borrowers.

In fairness, these first couple of weeks as a Kiva Fellow have not been a complete “bed of roses” (or a “sofa of cyclamens”, Julie?). It has taken a lot of energy & resources to move country; finding accommodation was a difficult, protracted & worrying affair; trying to shake Caroline’s colleague by the hand, only to have her jump back a few feet made me feel like a cultural idiot; being a temporary worker in a new organization & trying to get to know a new team can be tricky at the best of times; and the occasional moments doubting my own ability to be a useful addition to the office were quite disheartening.

However, any difficulties have been far outweighed by the innumerable rewards of my fellowship experience thus far. I am working with great people, for a fantastic MFI, on behalf of an inspiring company, in a fascinating & beautiful part of the world. The sun is shining, the kebabs are delicious and the work is always interesting & enlightening.

Getting used to local customs & practices will be a continual learning process and settling into work will come with time, as it invariably does. But as I come to the end of the first day of my third week as a Kiva Fellow, I cannot help but look forward to what is in store in the coming weeks & months, what surprises lie around the corner, what preconceptions will be challenged & what misconceptions will leave me (&/or those around me) laughing, cringing or shaking heads in despair.

If you are even slightly tempted or intrigued by the idea of joining the Kiva Fellowship program, I would highly recommend exploring further.

Salam,

Josh Richards is a Kiva Fellow in KF13, working with The Lebanese Association for Development – Al Majmoua, in Beirut, Lebanon.

The Microfootball Superstars - Staff from Al Majmoua and Ameen

It is a bit of a strange site to see German, Italian, French,  Spanish, and Brazilian flags hanging from balconies and waving from car antennas all over Lebanon. But this is the excitement that is brewing in Lebanon as it prepares for the 2010 World Cup. Café owners all over Beirut are investing in bigger, better televisions and stocking up on water pipe tobacco and food goods that will surely be demanded by their customers during the football matches. Al Majmoua borrower, Ryad, is busy updating his popular café and looking to purchase a 52” television before this year’s tournament. He is rooting for Brazil. As Kiva Fellow, Isaac, mentioned of microentrepreneurs in Mozambique—the lively spirit of this global football extravaganza often results in expanded opportunities for microfinance borrowers.

In the middle of the action

Although I am already tired of Shakira’s football anthem that seems to play on repeat on the local radio stations, I cannot help but join the wave of enthusiasm for this year’s World Cup. In fact my excitement is so great that I decided to organize a friendly match between Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua in order to celebrate this football season. Both partners are leading microfinance institutions in Lebanon and also major competitors.

As expected in the Middle East, the match started a few minutes late. But for one animated hour, the crowd (staff from both organizations) cheered on the teams as they played a skillful match. With Al Majmoua wearing white, Ameen sporting bright blue, adrenaline pumping and faces smiling, the match was a fantastic success. It was really terrific to have a diverse blend of staff from the field teams and main offices take part in the match. Some loan officers traveled more than two hours just to play! The match started out quite close, but Al Majmoua reigned victorious and ended the night with an amazing 9-2 win.

The Al Majmoua fans...and yes, they are cheering for KIVA!

As the sole Kiva representative and therefore most “neutral” observer, I tried to instill some order as the referee. But, I quickly realized that sometimes you just have to let boys be boys and, let men be boys as well, and work out the supposed handballs, fouls, and deflections for themselves.

Not only was the match a great chance for Ameen and Al Majmoua staff to meet one another, but also an opportunity for each respective staff to socialize with each other. The Operations Manager (and also Al Majmoua team coach) commented that he was pleased to see some new faces from the field staff who he had not yet met. There was even talk of starting a microfinance football league in Lebanon….

It has been a real pleasure to work with both of these outstanding field partners. I really admire their ability to respect one another and deliver high quality products and services. The friendly teasing on the football field was yet another illustration of how these two organizations are able to stay true to their identities and still engage with their competitors in a healthy and productive way.

In Lebanon, football fever is spreading fast in a major way at the micro-level.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

Kiva Love: Sarah, the Al Majmoua Kiva Coordinator, and I

Al Majmoua was originally started by Save the Children. It has since become an autonomous organization, but continues to implement youth initiatives in conjunction with Save the Children. In Lebanon, Al Majmoua oversees the Siraj program, which is a leadership initiative designed for young people in Lebanon, Yemen, Egypt, Jordan, and Palestine.

The Siraj film crew and Al Majmoua Business Development staff

The most recent Siraj project was a short documentary film created by a group of 25 students from the Lebanese International University (LIU). With the help and guidance of Al Majmoua, the students decided to create a film that illustrates the challenges of Lebanon’s poor people. They spent nearly four months to do the necessary research and visit poor people all over Lebanon. The result was a compelling documentary with high quality cinematography and well structured interviews featuring several low-income people in Lebanon. I thought that the mix of Arabic music and excerpts from the “Slumdog Millionaire” soundtrack were fitting for the film. The students were able to articulate the realities and individual challenges of poverty in a dignified way. I resonated strongly with this point as Kiva aims to achieve the same objective.

Although he was busy running around for the event, the student group leader, Ali, managed to share his comments on the film (please see video):

“The film is very important for us because it is a way to show a real picture of the suffering and poverty in Lebanon for the students and the young people. In Lebanon it’s only the politicians and people with power who talk about the suffering of the poor. Through this film we are letting poor people express themselves”.

As a result of Al Majmoua’s work serving low-income borrowers all over Lebanon, it was able to connect the students to many local contacts and resources for the film. The fact that Dr. Youssef Fawaz, the Executive Director of Al Majmoua, participated in the event as a speaker was extremely telling of the value Al Majmoua places on such initiatives.

Although the film was presented in the middle of a busy work and school day, the student group successfully recruited more than 50 of their peers from LIU to attend the event, as well as the Representative of the Minister of Youth and Sports, the Director of Public Relations of LIU, and an economic development expert from the United Nations Economic and Social Commission for Western Asia (ESCWA). ESCWA comprises 14 Arab countries in Western Asia: Bahrain, Egypt, Iraq, Jordan, Kuwait, Lebanon, Oman, Palestine, Qatar, Saudi Arabia, the Sudan, the Syrian Arab Republic, the United Arab Emirates and Yemen.

When you invest in Kiva, you invest in local field partners.

Please remember that when you lend to Kiva borrowers, you are also investing in Kiva’s local field partners. It is in large part due to the trust and confidence that Kiva partners instill in local communities that they are able to provide much needed financial and non-financial services to low-income borrowers all over the world. And when you take the example of Al Majmoua in Lebanon, it is easy to see how these partners can play a major role in shaping the next generation of leaders. It is a sad reality that we must continue to address poverty in our communities and countries, but there is something uplifting and reassuring when young people are actively engaged in the discussions and the solutions.

One voice and one story at a time, the future is yours to change, “ya shabab”.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to an Al Majmoua entrepreneur today!

There was an army officer with a huge machine gun trying to speak with the man. I yelled at the officer to help get the woman out of the car. He (not surprisingly) ignored me. Eventually the officer convinced them to leave. That was it. I could only imagine what this woman would face later. I yelled at the officer and asked why he didn’t do more? What good were his bulging muscles and oversized gun if he could not help this woman? He responded very matter-of-factly, what more can I do?  It’s his wife.

I yelled back saying that it didn’t matter if it was his wife, sister, mother, or a stranger on the street. In any case, it was wrong. He mumbled back and reluctantly agreed that it was wrong. He really just wanted me to be on my way.  This just happened to be in Lebanon, but it was a powerful reminder of how violence against women is all too often tolerated and encouraged in the Middle East and around the world.

In March, the Economist published an article about Arab women’s rights. It included a survey of 15,000 Egyptian youth in 2009: “67% of female respondents believe that a husband is justified in beating his wife if she speaks to another man”.

I have to say I am not surprised by the Economist’s report. When I was living in Egypt I witnessed a woman get slapped by her husband in the middle of a crowded mall. She had wanted him to buy medicine for their son. On another occasion, I heard the wails of a young girl getting lashed by a belt when visiting a friend in one of Cairo’s poorer neighborhoods. Apparently her brother was beating her, presumably for talking to a boy without permission. In both cases, no one said anything, did anything.

Kiva supports women all over the world. A borrower from Lebanon.

I myself fell victim to violence from a partner in Egypt.  After more than a year in the relationship, I found myself begging for my life, pinned against a wall being choked by a man who I had once considered so sweet and kind. The doorman stood by watching. He also said nothing, did nothing. My boyfriend at the time said with a wicked smile, “can’t you see? No one is going to help you because you are the woman and I am the man”. Sadly, in that moment, he was right. Fortunately I was able to escape and leave this abusive relationship.

So how can we change our societies to say something, do something? How can we take women out of the violence equation?

Microfinance.

Well, not just microfinance. It will take a multi-sectoral approach. But there is sufficient data to suggest that women’s economic empowerment (through microfinance) can help reduce partner and targeted violence.

Over 80% of entrepreneurs supported by Kiva are women. A borrower from Kenya.

Although it should be noted that women may face greater safety risks in the short-term until governments and communities are educated about and comfortable with microfinance programs.

A 2004 report by members of the Consultative Group to Assist the Poor (CGAP) notes that “increased contributions of resources to household led to increased self-worth and declining levels of tension and violence” for SEDF (a microfinance organization) clients in Bangladesh. It also found that microfinance “program participation led to increased self-confidence and improved status within the community” for Freedom from Hunger clients in Bolivia and Ghana.

The CGAP research team surveyed 1300 households in Bangladesh and found that:

• Women with loans were less likely to be beaten;
• Women with schooling were less likely to be beaten;
  

  Microfinance can lead to social empowerment for women. Kiva borrowers in Pakistan.

• Non-microfinance women were 3 times more likely to be beaten than Grameen clients and 2 times more likely than BRAC clients (Grameen and BRAC are two of the largest microfinance organizations in the world).

A 2007 study on the Intervention with Microfinance for AIDS and Gender Equity (IMAGE) in South Africa found that:

• After 2 years, the risk of past-year physical or sexual violence by an intimate partner was reduced by more than half;
• Reductions in violence resulted from a range of responses enabling women to challenge the acceptability of violence, expect and receive better treatment from partners, leave abusive relationships, and raise public awareness about intimate partner violence;
• The findings, both qualitative and quantitative, indicate that economic and social empowerment of women can contribute to reductions in intimate partner violence.

Through its work, Kiva has invested in over 270,000 women entrepreneurs. Although the world may not be getting any kinder, women are getting stronger and fighting back—with microfinance as their weapon.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Invest in one of Kiva’s female borrowers right now!

*Please note that women pictured are to show some of Kiva’s women borrowers, but does not in any way suggest that they have suffered from domestic or partner violence.

Dani lost his restaurant when the building was destroyed in 2006

The Resilience of Lebanon’s Entrepreneurs

It is estimated that nearly 1 million people fled their homes to safety elsewhere in Lebanon, Syria, or other countries during the 2006 war and approximately 1500 Lebanese people died, the majority of whom were civilians. A large number of Ameen’s clients and staff in Southern Lebanon, the Bekaa Valley, and Beirut were directly impacted by the war; many were displaced from their homes.

It’s borrowers like Dani who exemplify the incredible human spirit and unwillingness to sacrifice his business dreams. An experienced chef, Dani had opened a restaurant just days before the start of the war. Because of the restaurant’s location in one of Beirut’s neighborhoods notorious for its ties to Hezbollah, the entire building was attacked and came crumbling down to the ground. Dani had no insurance and lost all of his inventory. He left Lebanon for one year to work in Egypt and returned faced with the daunting task to start his business again from scratch. It is hard to believe that the warm and high-spirited gentleman I met last week was a direct victim of this war only a few years ago.

Mohamed, who is the main provider for his children, was forced to close his small supermarket for nearly a month during the war. With no resources to leave Beirut, he remained in his home with his family. It was at the same time heartbreaking and uplifting that Mohamed said that he rushed to open his shop following the war’s end. In an ironic and tragic way, it seems that this older man has managed to internalize war and conflict to such an extent that it almost seems to be a normal part of his routine.

Political concerns continue to be a concern for micro and small entrepreneurs: A 2008 report by the International Finance Corporation (IFC) notes that, “the most important constraint to business, mentioned by a large majority of business owners (83.8 percent), was political instability”.

Kiva borrowers like Imad are optimistic about the future, but still express concern over the country’s political situation. Hasan, a carpenter, noted that his business prospects will depend largely on the political situation in Lebanon. Ghassan, an experienced juice vendor, said that he is not looking to have more children at this time because of financial and political uncertainty.

The Commitment of Lebanon’s Microfinance Institutions

During the 2006 war, Ameen s.a.l. stopped any new lending for almost 50 days. However, the organization’s field staff continued to be in regular contact with borrowers to check on their health and safety.  Ameen’s Operation Manager told me that many borrowers were forced to live in tents outside their homes as they struggled to rebuild their lives and restart their businesses. In the years following the war, Ameen has continued to grow at a healthy rate, improve its operational efficiency, and add new products to support micro-businesses, including Kiva loans. Ameen General Manager, Ziad Halaby, is encouraged by Ameen’s success but still emphasizes the incredible challenge Lebanon’s microfinance institutions face due to political uncertainty.

Microfinance as a Tool for Political Stability

As an outsider, it is not always easy to understand the true impact of war. However it is clear from speaking with Ameen’s staff and borrowers that Lebanon is still recovering. Business owners are still cautious about future plans for expansion and growth. Through my interactions with different segments of the Lebanese population, sadly, very few people believe that 2006 was Lebanon’s final encounter with war.

Fortunately, Kiva and Lebanon’s microfinance institutions are committed to supporting microentrepreneurs through the best and worst of times. We can only hope that economic development and social empowerment lead to long-term political stability and security, for Lebanon and the world.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

The ladies (plus gent) that lunched!

As I strolled casually down this major city street I savored the sweet smells of spices as I walked by small grocery shops, admired the dangling gold earrings and embroidered “saris” of women giggling as they strutted down the sidewalk, and edged closer than I normally would to passersby hoping to catch a few phrases in my mother tongue of Bengali. This would seem like a typical day for a Kiva Fellow cruising the crowded streets of Kolkata, but strangely enough Kiva does not yet work in India, and it took me a few surreal moments to remember that I was still in Beirut. Little did I know that on this seemingly normal Sunday I would find myself in Beirut’s multi-ethnic shopping and food district  of “Dora”  to celebrate the Sri Lankan New Year with my cleaning lady and her friends, also service workers from South Asia living in Lebanon.

A South Asian supermarket and of course a Western Union for money transfers!

A Feast to Celebrate the New Year:
The way this Sunday adventure came about was when my cleaning lady told me that April 14 was Sri Lankan New Year. Generally a fan of any country’s new year and extremely fond of my charismatic, spunky, and extremely sweet cleaning lady, I suggested that we do something to celebrate. We agreed that a lunch outing in Dora, famous among foreign workers for its cheap goods and food, would be an appropriate destination for the day. The preferred restaurant of the group was closed for a reason at first unclear to me. With the conversation between the restaurant owner and the group in Tamil, I was, for the first time since my arrival in Lebanon, in a strange position where I could not communicate in Arabic. I came to understand that the police had raided the restaurant to check if customers (mostly South Asian) had the appropriate residency and work documents to live in Lebanon. Apparently (as confirmed by the Filipina cleaning woman in the Ameen office) this has become a common occurrence in Dora. Thankfully all in our group had the required legal documents. Thankfully (and sadly) I also knew that simply being American meant that I would not likely be interrogated on my reasons for roaming the streets of Dora on this Sunday afternoon. Determined to fulfill our mission and fill our stomachs, we marched on to another nearby restaurant.

A multi-ethnic supermarket in Dora, Beirut

Located above a South Asian supermarket, the restaurant’s décor was far from inviting. But we did not let the tattered plastic table cloths and stacked soda bottle crates in the corner deter us from enjoying our feast. With only a few words from the group, the server, an Indian man from Punjab, intrinsically understood the food request and brought out several small bowls of Sri Lankan delicacies—parsley and coconut salad, chicken curry, sautéed eggplant, dried spiced fish, and yellow lentils. Carefully watching the behavior of the group members, my French roommate and I were pleased that we could unabashedly indulge in the experience and eat with our hands. After filing in a line to wash our turmeric-stained hands, we returned to the table. My roommate and I had already agreed before leaving our apartment that day that we would pay the bill. I tried and failed to intercept the bill as the waiter handed it to one of the Sri Lankan women. After a small squabbling match with the ladies, we reluctantly let them pay. I wrongly assumed that we should treat them; I figured it only made sense as they are all working as laborers in Lebanon. But I did not realize that on this occasion, the celebration of their country’s New Year, it was not a question of money. They were clearly proud and genuinely sincere to share this special day with two unlikely Western guests in an unlikely place, this run-down restaurant in Dora.

A delicious feast to celebrate the Sri Lankan New Year

Shopping in Sri Lankan Style:
I have to say our Sri Lankan feast was extra enjoyable as it followed two intensive hours of trekking from store to store with these charming and energetic ladies. Although small in stature, these South Asian women (4 Sri Lankan and 1 Nepali) were on a serious undertaking to shop before they would even think of food. And shop they did! From imposter sportswear for $1 for their children who they may not see for a year or two, to vibrant $7 saris for their female relatives in Sri Lanka, to a special purchase of a $415 ornamental gold necklace from an Armenian jewelry shop, these women did their part to support the Lebanese economy! The adventure to the Armenian gold shop was by far the most interesting as it was packed with South Asian customers waiting two rows deep to be served and there was a comedic exchange between the customers in broken Arabic and English and the two Armenian storeowners in Arabic, equally broken English, and even Tamil!

Admiring gold jewelry at an Armenian-Lebanese shop

I would expect to hear Hindi and Urdu spoken in the markets of Dubai by South Asian vendors, and I have grown accustomed to the nonchalant intermingling of Arabic, French, and English among Lebanon’s more educated classes, but I did not ever expect to hear an Armenian jeweler in Beirut to negotiate gold prices in Tamil, a language spoken thousands of miles away in Southern India and Sri Lanka. Yet again Lebanon had managed to impress and intrigue me with its complex and diverse social layers.

My cleaning lady and I after a hard day of shopping!

Lebanon without the Lebanese:
I realize that Kiva lenders may be surprised and confused why I have written several blog entries on the foreign workers in Lebanon when they are typically investing in businesses of Lebanese entrepreneurs. Maybe it is because almost every wealthy home, large office, or popular restaurant employs a foreign worker from Asia or Africa. Maybe it is because of my own Indian heritage that I am fascinated by the strong presence of service workers from South Asia; I am trying to figure out how I myself fit into this intricate social web as I am American, but also Indian, I can pass as an Arab (most  days), and I am here in Lebanon as a temporary foreign worker, though in a professional capacity. Whatever the reason, it is clear that a Lebanon without the Lebanese will never be and I am truly grateful for that. But a Lebanon without international influences, be it language, culture, or the presence of foreign service workers, also will never be….at least not the Lebanon I have come to know. It may take a few more samplings of the homemade Indian sweets that I purchased in Dora for me to fully understand Lebanon’s complicated cultural context!

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

Sri Lankan grocery store...complete with a sign in Tamil!

Amal runs an electrical goods shop

The portrayal of Arab women in the media often leads to the common perception of Middle Eastern women as socially and professionally restricted, and  often considered to be  second-class citizens. In fact my first-hand experience has proven these stereotypes to be true on several occasions. However, when discussing the elusive “Middle East” region, it is important to acknowledge the varying levels of women’s rights and engagement across and within countries. Since arriving in Lebanon almost two months ago, I have been pleasantly surprised by the active and prominent role women play throughout Lebanese society. From the leadership and staff of Kiva partner, Ameen s.a.l, and its borrowers, to my new Lebanese friends who are avid runners, there is definitely something different and encouraging about Lebanon’s women.

The Women of Ameen:

One of Ameen's most experienced loan officers; she is known in her village for her diligent follow up with clients during the repayment period.

Within the ranks of Ameen itself, there is clear message that women can and will take on significant responsibility in the organization. The Deputy General Manager of Ameen is a no-nonsense, confident woman who is well-versed in the organization’s mission and committed to propelling Ameen forward, including increased efforts to measure social performance. The Senior Finance Manager is serious about her fashionable high-heeled shoes, but even more so about her number crunching. The female loan officers I have met all seem to share several characteristics—outspoken, self-assured, independent, and with a wicked sense of humor. The golden key to Kiva’s work at Ameen, Kiva Coordinator, Mirna, is now 9-months pregnant but she continues to work relentlessly to post new borrower profiles to the website and follow up with the field staff to make sure that the Kiva operation runs smoothly. She is planning to return to Ameen just two months after delivering her baby; she has told me many times that she wants to enter the hospital with a clear mind and no pending issues with Kiva!

Kiva Coordinator, Mirna. She was too shy to take a picture now, at 9 months pregnant, even though she looks just as beautiful!

Successful Business Owners:

Similar to Ameen’s staff, Ameen’s female borrowers are strong and impressive. Kiva borrower, Noura, runs a successful tailoring shop. She has 14 years of experience and has been operating her current shop for the past 10 years. Noura has not felt any slowdown in business in recent months; in fact she articulated that there are often too many customers and not enough time to serve them all! Noura has a vibrant sense of humor and she is looking to open a small factory where she can employ several young women to assist her. According to the loan officer that was with me, Noura has established a strong relationship with many of the local schools based on her high quality work and is hoping to take on long-term, large orders for uniforms when she moves to a bigger location.

Borrowers like Amal illustrate the business potential of Lebanon’s women. She has over 15 years of experience selling electrical goods and successfully opened a small shop two years ago.  She has requested a larger loan from Ameen to expand her business and her future goal is to open another branch of her store. Despite the growing presence of women business owners, they still remain a minority in Lebanon. A 2008 report by the International Finance Corporation estimates women to make up about 29% of the Lebanese labor force.

One of Ameen's energetic loan officers (right) and me

Running the Country:
On a personal level, I have come to know several Lebanese young women who are part of a weekly running group in Beirut. They actively take part in local road races and are training for the Beirut marathon. There is no way to escape the uncomfortable looks we receive while running down the Beirut Corniche, but it is certainly a big change to even run outside compared to my days living in Cairo where the harassment and traffic were often too much to handle. I have to say that sports have been an excellent way to connect with young women in the region as some of my best Egyptian girlfriends are former teammates from several soccer/football tournaments we played in Cairo.

In general, women in Lebanon, especially Beirut, seem more assertive and self-reliant than I have seen in other countries. Marriage and child-bearing can (relatively) easily go hand-in-hand with working and developing a career, and Beirut’s universities are brimming with eager female students ready to take on all types of careers. With young women busily buzzing in Ameen’s main office, ladies working in all types of jobs from retail to restaurants in downtown Beirut, and young ladies engaged in social activities from the arts to sports, there is a new image of the Arab woman that the Western media needs to include in its portrayal of the region.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

Part of my work as a Kiva Fellow is to visit a random set of borrowers from my field partner, Ameen s.a.l, as part of Kiva’s Borrower Verification process. In short, I am helping Kiva to perform a mini-audit to help fulfill Kiva’s commitment to transparency and client protection. This verification process is performed at least once a year at all of Kiva’s field partners. I will complete the same process for Kiva’s other Lebanon partner, Al Majmoua, in a few weeks. Now I never envied an auditor’s work, but I have to say that I appreciate Kiva’s inclusion of this deliverable as it enables me to visit borrowers all over Lebanon, such as my last visit to a few small towns in the North, just a few kilometers from the Syrian border.

After passing an always expected car wreck on the main highway, twenty billboards for McDonalds latest burger special, and tacky posters for the newest music album of the very popular and scantily clad Lebanese singer, Haifa Wahby, the two hour drive to this tiny border town seemed to pass by quickly with views of the Mediterranean on one side and the green hills dotted with villas and apartment buildings on the other.  We enjoyed a bumpy ride down a rocky dirt road to arrive at our destination—the home of Ameen borrower, Houssam. I was intrigued by Houssam’s small village town which boasts more tractors than cars and has more murals of Syrian President, Bashar al-Assad, than of any Lebanese political leader.  Also surprising is that this quiet village is home to over 90 Ameen clients and that the Ameen loan officer has established a powerful relationship with these mostly Muslim clients even though he is a Christian.

Not unlike his photo on Kiva, the live version of Houssam exudes a warm and kind energy. Houssam is an experienced farmer who specializes mostly in tomatoes. With his Kiva loan of $1200, he has invested in a large plastic cover to protect his tomato plants from Lebanon’s often uncertain weather. This cover is one of four that he has; each one costs about $1500 including the iron rods to hold it in place and the water irrigation system that is used inside. Houssam is able to grow a large enough quantity of tomatoes to sell to local wholesalers. He told us that Lebanon’s changing climate has affected his production and that the past season was relatively slow. The other Kiva agricultural borrowers we visited in nearby towns articulated the same frustration at the unfavorable weather conditions. But, when times are good, profits are high—Houssam estimates about $10,000 profit for his tomato crop in a strong season.

Not only was I impressed by the sophisticated set up of the farm, but I was thoroughly amused by Houssam’s lively father who also came to speak with us. I would guess that his father is no less than 80 years old, yet his enthusiastic spirit and relentless joking are more similar to that of Lebanon’s “shabab” (young people). Apparently the joke was on me when this energetic old man told us that he was upset with his wife (Houssam’s mother) because she only delivered 18 children, but he had wanted 24…..he was serious! I did not have the good fortune to see this incredible woman who spent most of her adult life giving birth, but I can only imagine what a force she is. When I asked Houssam’s father how many people were living in the large family home adjacent to the farm, he could not tell me an exact figure but estimated between 20-30 people. I could not help but laugh when Houssam told me that his wife had taken the house keys with her to Syria where she completes most of her daily shopping, and so he was locked out of the house. I was not sure of who would think to enter this house located in the middle of a farm in this tiny village, nor did I understand where the other supposed 20-30 household members had gone and why none of them had a spare key!

Just a few minutes down the road, we also visited Youssef, an established strawberry farmer. Youssef distributes his sizeable strawberry crop to a range of wholesalers; one of his biggest customers is “Al Hallab”, one of Lebanon’s most famous sweet shops. Similar to Houssam, he also used his Kiva loan to buy a protective nylon cover for his crops. This cover allows him to maintain a healthy crop for 10 months out of the year. Youssef estimates his profits for his strawberry crop alone to be $3,500 per season, and his annual profit from all of his crops to be about $14,000 per year. Although Youssef is clearly passionate about his work, he expressed his dreams for his children to study and pursue non-agricultural careers as he noted the manual work is extremely tiring and less stable. In the future, he is looking to add cucumbers and a special type of tomato that grows in the winter to his repertoire.

Ameen borrower, Youssef, in front of his strawberry crops

With the sun shining down, the smell of fresh flowers and vegetables that you can only find on a farm, spontaneous gusts of wind blowing through, and meeting several of Ameen’s agricultural clients, like Houssam and Youssef, it truly was a lovely and inspiring day. Thanks to Kiva I had a rare opportunity to see the more glamorous (with the exception of a little mud on my shoes) side of auditing in the tranquil border towns of Northern Lebanon.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

Kiva staff (Field Supervisor, loan officer, and Operations Manager) with Ameen borrower, Houssam, and his energetic father

Outreach:
The MIX report notes that many microfinance institutions (MFIs) became more cautious in their lending in 2009 and the decrease in the number of borrowers was the major reason for slowed growth  for the majority of surveyed institutions. In 2009 Ameen managed to increase its market penetration from 0.8% in 2008 to 1.57% in 2009 and experienced a sizeable positive growth in borrowers from 7.1% in 2008 to 33.4% in 2009. Mr. Halaby, believes that Ameen’s strong relationships with four major banks in Lebanon, greater emphasis on direct lending programs such as Kiva, targeted efforts to build Ameen’s internal capacity in 2007 and 2008, and commitment of the entire staff were key reasons for the organization’s continued growth last year.

Transparency:
The MIX report also comments that increased transparency efforts resulted in a move up the ranks or first-time entrance to the MIX 100 for a significant number of institutions; 23 of the 34 organizations to make the list for the first time had “improved their position significantly because of better transparency”. This emphasis on greater transparency through public information sharing and third party audits is integral to the industry’s success and certainly a key priority of Kiva. Mr. Halaby notes Ameen’s voluntary reporting to the Mix Market since 2002 as a prime example of Ameen’s commitment to financial transparency. He further notes that Ameen’s position as a non-bank financial institution (registered with Lebanon’s Central Bank) holds the organization to higher standards of financial reporting and transparency.

In addition, Ameen is participating in the pilot stage of Kiva’s social performance management initiative using the Cerise tool. Mr. Halaby is keen to include Ameen in opportunities that focus on transparency and social performance. Mr. Halaby strongly emphasized that Ameen’s work has been and will always be focused on achieving its mission to provide financial services to Lebanon’s low-income and working poor population. He noted the difficulty that arises at times when working with bank partners who do not always share Ameen’s same commitment to social objectives. However, he did cite the example of one of Ameen’s bank partners offering lower interest rates to 100 of Ameen’s borrowers as proof that Ameen’s dedication to social goals can positively impact its bank partners.

Efficiency:
Efficiency is the third criteria that the MIX report evaluates. Despite the crisis, Ameen was able to achieve operational self sustainability at 107%. Ameen has been able to achieve 100% operational self sustainability or higher for the past several years. Mr. Halaby believes that the excellent quality of Ameen’s staff and their continued efforts to keep output levels high and effectively manage Ameen’s large case load are significant contributors to Ameen’s continued success in achieving operational efficiency.

Continued Challenges:
Although Ameen experienced continued growth and success in 2009, Mr. Halaby articulated the challenges that Ameen has faced in recent years. In 2006, Ameen had to stop lending activities due to the War on Lebanon, also called the “July War”. Political insecurity also plagued Ameen in 2008 and 2009. Finally, market distortions in 2009 added further complications to Ameen’s work. Nevertheless, the MIX Rankings suggest that Ameen is a global microfinance leader and it is clear that Ameen’s senior leadership can create a culture of stability even in times of uncertainty.

Other Kiva partners that made the MIX 2009 list include AMK in Cambodia, D-Miro in Ecuador, CreditComun in Mexico, and NWTF in the Philippines.

*The Microfinance Information Exchange (MIX) Market is one of the largest resources for the global microfinance industry. For the past few years, the MIX has published the MIX Global 100 Ranking to give “a composite picture of MFI performance using a series of attributes: outreach, efficiency, and transparency” (www.themix.org). In 2009, the MIX ranked the 100 top profitable institutions that achieved the highest results in the three abovementioned areas.  The entire surveyed group, which consists of over 955 institutions (712 that are profitable) from almost 100 countries, represents “nearly 85 percent of the known pool of microfinance borrow­ers, serving 72 million borrowers” (www.themix.org).

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

The strong linkages between Lebanon and the African continent are clear at all levels of society. The “service” (shared) taxi driver that masterfully negotiates the traffic of Beirut’s morning commuters has worked in Ghana and the Ivory Coast. He was an employee in a food services company. The father of Ameen’s marketing officer is an established businessman in the Ivory Coast; he has been working there for nearly 20 years. A Kiva borrower I met in the Southern town of Tyre had spent five years working in the Ivory Coast for Philips (electronics company) before moving back to Lebanon to get married. Ameen’s all-purpose man (driver, office assistant, and unofficial tour guide) spent several years working as a commercial trader between Lebanon and the Central African Republic. The two cousins of the Ameen Kiva Coordinator are company employees in Nigeria. I was really surprised to hear from one of Ameen’s Area Supervisors, who lives in the Southern town of Nabatiyeh, that it is common and expected in his community that at least one son or male member of every family is working in an African country.

As I spend more time in Lebanon, I am more and more intrigued by the interweaving and clashing of cultures. I am making a sincere effort to understand the country’s complex and rich political and economic history, which has proven to be a daunting task that will surely extend beyond my Kiva Fellowship. In so many ways it has been the wrongdoings, selfishness, or complete neglect of international actors that has left Lebanon to struggle and suffer over the past few decades. Yet at the same time, the Lebanese have also capitalized on the international influences that have drifted through its mountains and valleys in terms of language, business, religion, and economic policy. The significant business relationships between Lebanon and African countries are excellent illustrations of the country’s truly international experience.

I am beginning to understand that the only common aspect of the Lebanese people is in fact their uniqueness and diversity.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Kiva’s Lebanon partners, Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua, today! Make an impact by lending to a Middle East entrepreneur today!

Tailored advertisements for Lebanon's service workers

Lebanon is aesthetically beautiful with its lush greenery and seemingly endless miles of coastline flirting with the turquoise waters of the Mediterranean Sea. In a region known for its vast deserts, Lebanon is certainly a strange exception. Living in ultra modern Beirut, it is easy to forget that the country has been plagued by war for generations. With its bustling cafes, gorgeous boardwalk (the “Corniche”) filled with street vendors, young lovers holding hands, and families walking carelessly as small children ride bicycles and eat chocolate bars or freshly grilled corn, Beirut sometimes feels like an urban paradise. As a middle-income country, Lebanon does not suffer from the same degree of poverty like Egypt and Syria. It also does not have the incredible wealth of countries like Qatar and the United Arab Emirates. Yet, there is an interesting social dynamic here that I did not expect to find…..

Fresh corn and juice on the Corniche

The services sector is the predominant contributor to the country’s economy. What surprises me is that in almost every café, restaurant, or bar frequented by Beirut’s middle and upper class residents and Western expatriates, there is a clear hierarchy in the employee structure—waiters are generally Lebanese or Egyptian, and almost certainly the one responsible for mopping the floors and removing the trash is a darker skinned man, most probably from an African country such as Ethiopia or Cote D’Ivoire. Also, those seemingly carefree curious children enjoying the excitement of the Corniche can often do so   because they are closely being watched by an Asian (Filipina, Indian, Sri Lankan, Bangladeshi, or Nepali) or African (Ethiopian) nanny following closely behind to ensure their safety.

I continue to be torn over whether this importation of foreign, cheap labor, in Lebanon and all over the world, is ultimately a positive or negative step for global economic development and social equality.

On the positive side:
•    These Asian and African service workers are presumably able to find work that they may not otherwise get in their own countries and send home much needed remittances to support their families and domestic economies; the Western Union money transfer stores (which there are more than 700 of in Lebanon!) have colorful advertisements such as “Can you send money to Sri Lanka for as little as $10? YES!”;
•    For many young women working in Lebanon, it seems like they have greater opportunities to be socially free that may not be possible when living at home with their families; I love to walk around early on Sunday mornings to see the groups of young Asian women (presumably service workers) walking with arms linked, giggling and window shopping on their day off.
•    Thus far, I have not heard so many horror stories about employers withholding passports, rampant sexual violence, and inhumane work conditions as is true for many service workers living in Gulf countries, which suggests that work conditions may be more fair and ethical in Lebanon.

On the negative side:
•    A class of racially and ethnically distinguishable service workers reinforces the idea that these specific countries are meant only to serve Lebanon’s well-to-do;
•    With salaries typically less than the national minimum wage (approximately $300/month), I wonder how the financial rewards from working in Lebanon can truly impact the domestic economies and family conditions of these workers;
•    It is still expected that enough of these workers are brought to work in Lebanon without proper information regarding their duties or the benefits they will receive; sexual violence and exploitation surely exist but may just be harder to see—one case is one case too much.

It would be silly to act as if my home country, the U.S., is not dealing with similar challenges regarding imported labor. This is not a new debate or one that is likely to go away anytime soon. But I am still taken aback that a country like Lebanon, with its constant intermingling of Arabic, French, and English, and clear pride in its cosmopolitan culture, has such a distinct racial and ethnic separation when it comes to its service workers. It seems that “multiculturalism” exists on a purely lateral level with the upper tiers of society, but has failed to penetrate the country’s socially diverse layers.

In theory, if those that hire foreign labor and those who come to work benefit mutually from the relationship, then there is no issue. However, as we Kiva Fellows have come to quickly learn, what makes sense in theory and what is actually applied can differ drastically. I am in no position to suggest whether the presence of these service workers is in the best interest of Lebanon or their home countries. I simply aim to highlight the very international labor spectrum that exists in a country that is built both on diversity and segregation. What I have come to observe is that the presence of many cultures does not necessarily equate to multiculturalism.

Nishita Roy is a Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. Get involved with Lebanon field partners, Ameen or Al Majmoua today!

Ameen: The “Commercial” Approach

Ameen (meaning “trustworthy” in Arabic) has made its mark through sophisticated partnerships with international organizations such as USAID and CISCO systems. Ameen only lends to individual borrowers and is able to offer financial services in almost every corner of the country due to its relationship with four of the country’s commercial banks.  By working closely with commercial institutions, Ameen is able to significantly reduce operational costs and offer a competitive array of products. Lebanon has an incredibly well developed banking industry (more than 60 banks are operating), which is hard to believe given that you can drive from one end of the country to the other in only a few hours and the estimated population is approximately four million people.

I was at first surprised to find that Ameen only offers individual loans, which counters the common perception of microfinance as a group-based model. However, after speaking more with Ameen’s management as well as reading a 2008 report on the microfinance industry in Lebanon published by the IFC, it is clear that individual lending is preferred by a significant segment of current and prospective borrowers. Cultural and social reasons are cited for this preference. I can imagine that the uncertainty that comes from thirty years of sporadic conflict and war make it difficult to engage in economic partnerships with one’s neighbors and friends.

Thus far, I am extremely impressed by the high level of professionalism and organization at Ameen. In terms of Kiva, Ameen offers loans using a “direct-lending” approach where borrowers have much more contact with loan officers.  I am interested to see how Ameen negotiates between its commercial and direct-lending methodologies and how this impacts organizational processes and borrower experiences.

Al Majmoua: The “NGO” Approach

Al Majmoua (meaning “the group” in Arabic) feels more like a typical non-profit organization when you walk into its headquarters (relaxed and with a lack of adequate storage and staff space), but that is somewhat of a skewed impression when one learns of the organization’s substantial loan portfolio and total staff of more than 120 employees.

Al Majmoua has established itself as a strong competitor in Lebanon’s microfinance sector due to its range of financial and non-financial services and deep-rooted community relationships. From my understanding thus far, it seems that Al Majmoua is one of the few microfinance organizations that offers a substantial set of non-financial services such as financial literacy and vocational trainings, generally free of charge and open to all community members. Also interesting, it provides loans to Palestinian refugees as well as service workers, such as Filipina women who make up a large portion of private housekeepers in Lebanon.

I was able to meet several Kiva clients with one of Al Majmoua’s most experienced loan officers. The loan officer is of Armenian background and has grown up in Lebanon. She took us to visit her clients in the predominantly Armenian section of Beirut, Burj Hammoud. Based on my experience working closely with microfinance clients in Jordan with FINCA International, I was surprised by the high quality of products (in this case clothing imported from Turkey), and that borrower businesses were quite formal with rented or owned store space.

The commitment of the Al Majmoua staff is clear from the headquarters staff as well as the loan officer we met. I am curious to see how Al Majmoua continues to fulfill its social objectives with the entrance of new competitors and increasing pressures to keep costs low without compromising service quality.

Now in week 2 of my fellowship, several points stand out to me regarding the country’s microfinance industry:

• The market is relatively small (200,000  maximum potential borrowers), and there is increasing competition amongst organizations;
• There is not a strong focus on group loans and women borrowers are more difficult to access than other countries in the region and internationally;
• The lack of specific microfinance legislation and sophisticated banking sector allows organizations to operate relatively freely and engage with international investors;
• The definition of “micro enterprise” is vastly different (larger) from many of Kiva’s other partners in less developed countries, and also varies greatly by country within the region.

In Lebanon, diversity and differences have bred conflict for generations, but have also contributed to a country that can apply a sundry of strategies to its economic, social, and political development. Based on Kiva’s field partners, it seems that alternate approaches to microfinance are to be expected and more importantly, are successful.

Nishita Roy is  Kiva Fellow (Class 10) serving in Lebanon. She is working with Ameen s.a.l. and Al Majmoua. Get involved with these Lebanon field partners today!

I’ve traveled up to the mountains, down to the valley and along the coast to meet borrowers. The scenery at each place has been drastically different: the northern Bekaa valley is flat and somewhat arid; Mount Lebanon – lush and green; and the Southern coast – flaxen and dotted with palms. Regardless of where I’m headed, the day always starts off with a near-death experience involving a scooter, car, truck or, when really lucky, a semi (nothing like having your life flashing before your eyes to give you that extra jolt of energy in the morning).

After surviving the car-ride to one of Al Majmoua’s branches (Al Majmoua has nine branches located all over the country), I meet the Loan Analyst (LA) I will be trailing for the day. The LA serves as my guide, translator (for when I struggle with the language) and general hero in life. Each LA has over one hundred clients and knows everything about them from how their businesses are going, to the number of kids they have, to what repairs they need done on their houses. From there, we start our rounds – visiting the borrowers.

The Lebanese people are known for their hospitality (and 4 pounds in one month later, I can vouch for it). Regardless of where I am meeting the borrowers (their homes, grocery stores, workshops..) I am always offered at least one strong cup of Arabic coffee. Declining is almost never an option. After accepting the cup (and I don’t drink coffee) the fun really starts. I ask my questions in Arabic: How long have you had your business? What hardships do you face? What are your dreams …and finally, the dreaded: How did the loan change your life? I dread this question because I always butcher this phrase at least twice while on the field. Loan is qard in Arabic; qird is monkey in Arabic- you can guess which word I tend to use. The general consensus is: Many clients have not seen the monkey funded by Kiva but they find the loan to be very helpful. This is where the Loan Analysts (my heroes!) jump in and explain to the confused clients what I was trying to say.

Despite all the awkwardness and confusion that my garbled Arabic generates, these field visits are what bring everything together: I meet the nineteen year old boy who single-handedly supports his family of five by giving little kids rides on the pier on a mini-train attached to his motorcycle (the only business of the like in the area), the store-owner who is working tirelessly to put his four kids through college, the woman selling clothes out of her war destroyed home that she one day hopes fix. I meet people who are determined despite set-backs and generous despite their financial situations. At the end of the day, I am a sweaty, jittery mess desperately seeking the bathroom courtesy of the 5th cup of coffee – and I love it.

Alia Rafeh is a Kiva Fellow who is working with Al Majmoua in Lebanon this summer. To lend to Al Majmoua’s clients on Kiva click here: Al Majmoua currently funding loans.

The noise from the screaming kids (in-flight entertainment system was broken-lovely) and exasperated parents dies down to a quiet murmur as we start to get our first glimpses of the Mediterranean and the Lebanese shoreline. The entire plane is silenced by this stunning view – sandy beaches, rocky coasts and plummeting cliffs.  All the last-minute nervousness and doubts I had when boarding my plane from the US (quitting my job given the current economic climate,  leaving my rent-controlled apartment, getting rid of my goldfish…) melt away as I watch the electric blue waters of the sea and recognize various Lebanese landmarks – this is why I came here.

This country is rich in history and culture , it’s capital –Beirut- was once known as the “Paris of the Middle-East”  .  Fifteen-years of civil war seriously damaged the country’s economic infrastructure. Lebanon started to recover but the war of 2006 set the economy back yet again. However, what I admire most about this country and its people is their ability to bounce-back- nothing phases them – they just pick-up where they left off and rebuild as necessary . I came here because I wanted to see the power of microfinance in improving these peoples’ lives and in aiding to restore this already-on-the-mend “Paris of the Middle-East” to its former glory – it’s time again for Lebanon to be recognized for its rich heritage,  its  peoples’ “joie de vivre”  and its breath-taking beauty.

Alia Rafeh is part of KF8 and will be working with Al Majmoua in Lebanon  for 11 weeks where she will attempt not to completely butcher the language. To fund borrowers from Al Majmoua  on Kiva, click here.

They both play important roles in checking the status quo. Both institutions are often the only places that can bring powerful people and institutions to account for their deeds. Courts, with their sacrosanct independence from politics and private interests, are able to bring down decisions punishing anyone that violates the law or does not honor a contract. Stock markets, for their part, can punish companies that are not fully dedicated to implementing the strategy they promised their shareholders they would adhere to and implement successfully.

Less dramatically, they both play a decentralized governing role, ensuring among other things that companies are well run, contracts are upheld, rights are not flaunted and corporate investments are allocated efficiently. They may not be perfect in doing this, but at least they give us some chance to make power accountable. Most importantly, their role is independent of the executives and management.

One cannot help but notice the relative absence of either of these two powerful institutions at work in the development aid community. The obvious questions is, how are aid institutions and decision made accountable? Who or what makes sure our aid dollars are not being spent inefficiently in helping third world countries develop or deal with a crisis? Who makes sure the allocation of aid dollars is done according to certain high level priorities? How do we make sure our aid dollars are not used to achieve unstated aims, such as distorting the political systems of supposed beneficiary countries or supporting unnecessary agencies and government bodies?

The short answer to that of course is politicians and our government bureaucracy; but they are far from independent. How are they accountable? Sure, if it gets bad enough elections can do the job, but that seems far from effective in most cases. When we give money for aid, the idea is to achieve certain developmental goals, and for temporary assistance. Are our politicians motivated to achieve those goals and makes sure that they do so in the interests of all stakeholders, including beneficiary communities?

Viewed from the field, it often seems like there is a lot of waste in the development aid industry. SUVs and large salaries support a lifestyle often at odds with the lives of those we are trying to help. Accountability and oversight are often shortchanged for control and expediency. Results may often look good on paper, but how do they look in reality and who is checking?

Though this impression was obtained during my time as a Kiva Fellow, it was not due to anything I saw directly in my work with Kiva or its field partners. Rather, it is something I gained from being exposed to people involved in development aid activity funded with official grants from governments. In this respect, Kiva is a refreshing antidote to this status quo, where individuals and a private NGO are facilitating development outside the realm of governments and official aid. Thumbs up to Kiva!

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Nemr is a KF7 spending 12 weeks at Ameen. You can also check out his personal blog. Check out some of Ameen’s borrowers and make a loan today by clicking here.

Yet, when Kiva borrowers need a loan, we expect them to agree to have their information posted on the internet for all to see, along with a picture and sometimes even a video. Are we unnecessarily invading their privacy?

Clearly borrowers are not being forced. They have a choice. Indeed, I am told by the loan officers here at Ameen that some people often do object to the picture in particular and choose not to take a Kiva loan at all. They are then offered another loan product Ameen provides not funded through Kiva.

However, if Kiva provides people with an opportunity where there would not otherwise be one, we realize that we are urging borrowers to, in a sense, give up their privacy for a loan. Is it fair to put them in that situation?

Before I arrived at my host MFI and began to meet borrowers, I had not thought about the privacy of borrowers. I only thought that the information being provided was necessary to facilitate the connecting between lenders and borrowers and to make Kiva possible. The amazing power of the Kiva concept and the opportunity it was providing borrowers in poor communities was all I saw.

Kiva already does a lot to protect a borrower’s privacy, like giving MFIs the option of hiding a borrower’s last name, or not listing the actual address of their business. These are definitely great features. But I think we should be able to do more to protect their privacy. Here are some of the things I find disturbing at present:

1. Borrowers can be searched on Google by anyone.
2. Borrowers pictures are online for anyone to see along with their first names.
3. Personal information is listed, such as marital status and number of children and their business activity, making it possible for people to identify them with a little effort.

Another related issue I find disturbing is that borrowers are being labeled as poor when they do not necessarily see themselves as such. Poverty means different things in different places. A person asking for a loan from a partner MFI for their economic activity works hard and provides for his or her family and may not see themselves as poor.

I must say that the team in charge of the Kiva Fellows Program and the training we went through as fellows, was careful to highlight the need to avoid “cultural imperialism” in implementing Kiva. I feel that the more concern for the privacy of borrowers falls within this.

Some suggestions for increasing privacy protection for borrowers could be:

1. Restrict access to the full information on borrowers to Kiva registered users or even active lenders on Kiva.
2. Provide borrowers some optionality to provide as much information as they feel comfortable providing.

I think that as Kiva grows and matures, the privacy of Kiva borrowers should be looked at more closely to see how we can better balance the interests of lenders and those of the borrowers. As users on the internet we are always reminded of the importance of protecting our privacy. Why shouldn’t Kiva borrowers also have the same level of protection? This should be especially important given that the bulk of these borrowers have no access to the internet.

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Nemr is a KF7 Kiva Fellow spending 12 weeks at Ameen. You can also check out his personal blog here. Check out some of Ameen’s borrowers and make a loan today by clicking here.

A number of NGOs have been involved in this part of town for years, where the level of poverty tends to be quite a bit higher than the national level. Also, the municipality of Saida as well as the Ministry of Tourism have made efforts to upgrade the infrastructure in the town in the last ten years.

I shot this short video during my visit.

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I am Nemr, a KF7. I am spending 12 weeks at Ameen in Lebanon. You can also check out my personal blog here.

Check out some of Ameen’s borrowers and make a loan today by clicking here.

My MFI, Ameen, was kind enough to arrange for me to be driven to one of two of its branches in Burj Barajneh where I met the loan officer. I was grateful to be driven here since as soon as we entered the area I realized that, left alone, I would surely get lost. Within minutes, I realized that the driver himself was lost.

Ameen has 10 branches in El-Dahyeh and approximately a quarter of its Kiva borrowers live or work here. Though technically not a part of the Beirut municipality, El-Dahyeh is very much a part of the city. Many people who live there work in other parts of Beirut. Also, many go to El-Dahyeh to do business, especially to shop at its bustling markets. Here you will find a whole variety of inexpensive things from furniture, clothes, and household items, to fresh produce and other food products.

One of the first things one notices in El-Dahyeh is the poor state of the infrastructure. Unpaved and poorly paved roads snake their way between buildings that seem to have no particular order to them. In places, the road narrows forcing cars to wait for oncoming traffic. In others, stores place their wares on the road, blocking traffic. Everywhere, pedestrians must compete for space with cars from all directions.

This state of affairs has to do with the history of the area. This part of town has developed into an urban jungle of sorts in a span of only thirty years. Before this lay quiet coastal towns surrounded by orange groves and fields producing various types of fruit and vegetables. These towns remain in name only, though an occasional old house squeezed between multistory apartment blocks reminds you of the time that was.

Burj Barajneh was once a small town, as was Hay Essillom or Haret Hraik. For 15 years starting in 1976 Lebanon experienced a brutal civil war. During this time, marked by a weak or nonexistent central government and several domestic and international wars, the area became a haven for the internally displaced and those looking for economic opportunity. Most came from the south of Lebanon.

The residents of El-Dahyeh suffered the most under the 2006 war with Israel. Whole blocks were leveled and people were forced to leave their homes and businesses. Many Ameen clients in this area lost their businesses and some even lost their homes. Now, almost three years later, the signs of the war are hardly visible, though when I mentioned this to someone, I realized it required a trained eye to actually see the damage and the rebuilding that took place.

Right now, one of the tasks I am working on is preparing a process manual for Ameen’s Kiva loans. So, during my first visit to El-Dahyeh I observed the work of the loan officer and documented the various tasks they perform and how they screen for potential clients. In a subsequent visit to El-Dahyeh a week later, I made visits to a list of Kiva borrowers and later wrote journals for them.

The borrowers I visited were Ali, Samir, Youssef, Najwa, and Haitham. To view the journals, click the link on each name and scroll to the bottom of the page. These are the first journals to be written for Ameen borrowers in Lebanon.
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I am Nemr, a KF7. I am spending 12 weeks at Ameen in Lebanon. You can also check out my personal blog here.

Check out some of Ameen’s borrowers and make a loan today by clicking here.

Jail in Beirut wasn’t really a high-security sort of place. Most of the “prisoners” were being led around without handcuffs, and no one was carrying a weapon. People were actually fairly friendly. My holding cell had only a few people in it when I arrived: two women who had apparently had a longer day than myself, and two men who had clearly over-dressed for the occasion by my standards. Ahmad had seemingly called ahead for a reservation, because he arrived with pita bread and labneh cheese in a shopping bag. He offered me some, but I wasn’t really in the mood to eat. He was there for some sort of immigration issue. The other guy whose name I didn’t catch said he was there “for cocaine.” With me, I had my folder of useless paperwork, my handy planner, keys, wallet, cellphone. When I finished my cigarette, I fished around in my pocket for my used and gently abused cell that I had just acquired for ten dollars the day before and flipped through my planner for a helpful number. The first one I came upon was a colleague at work, who I managed to get through to. The warden saw me on the phone– I made no sincere efforts to hide my call– and decided it was time to process me. That meant saying goodbye to the phone, my belt, shoelaces, money and my pen. I had a real mammoth of a metal pen at the time and understandably they wanted to take it away– it was definitely passable as a weapon. Not certain how long I would be there, I protested enough to at least keep the ink cartridge so I could write to pass the time… I already had a grandiose plan in the works to record my memoirs by matchlight and sneak them out of jail with the guards inside hollowed out cigarettes. I also insisted that I get my phone call. For a good twenty minutes I had a yelling match with the warden, refusing to move an inch until I got my phone call. I don’t think the Lebanese typically get one, but I had a terrible feeling that if I didn’t get in touch with the embassy, it would be awfully easy to get lost for a while down there. Begging and pleading finally won out and I was allowed my call to the embassy. I had enough time for a quick “Here’s my name, I’m in jail, please get me out of here” before the phone was snatched away and I was led down a long corridor to meet my new cellmates.

I spoke to some of the prison guards (They weren’t exactly guards, more like custodians. They had no billyclubs or handcuffs and from what I could tell spent most of their time sweeping the place.) who showed me around and found out they were almost all from Sudan and here in Lebanon on working papers from the U.N.. Really nice guys. We walked by cell after cell, each one filled with maybe 30- 35 prisoners, each one maybe 10×20 meters in size. Some were more crowded than others, but there seemed to be enough space to at least sit comfortably. The cells were covered on the far wall inside with prisoner’s dirty plastic shopping bags filled with clothes and toothpaste. The hallway had fluorescent lights hanging down from the low ceiling which dimly lit the passage with a hazy yellow glow. Huge fans blew around hot, damp, salty air, and there was a shelf for shoes outside of each cell. By the time we reached my cell, number 12, the last one at the end of the hall, I had made friends with a jovial guard, Hadool, who was happy to learn that I was from New York. Hadool had a sister living in Queens and gave me a pack of cigarettes as a welcome present “If you need anything, let me know” he whispered to me through the bars as the door was shut anew.

I don’t think I’m going out on a limb if I say that I stuck out a bit. My cellmates were all gathered in circles in their respective corners, many not wearing shirts, talking amongst themselves and sneaking glances over to the new guy. I quickly found out that these divisions were by homeland– the Sri Lankans in one corner, Indians in another, Palestinians, Iraqis, Thai; they all had their own enclave. I was welcomed by an Iraqi man wearing nice jeans who immediately started my inquisition. I got the impression he was the enforcer. He asked why I was there, and I said I really wasn’t sure, and he asked where I was from, and all I could manage was a feeble “Eh, far away.” Not content to leave it at that, his friends pressed on- “What, like from Australia?” Now I’ve never in all my travels misled people about where I’m from. Those who have traveled around a bit know that it’s tough sometimes, particularly recently, to say you’re American. Not just out of fear of a degree of embarrassment, but in some cases, out of fear for your safety. But I honestly think it’s kind of a responsibility of those who can travel to be totally honest and represent our country well. That said, in this situation, surrounded by imprisoned men from places where America isn’t exactly a nice word, and not knowing how long I would be spending with these guys, I admitted that yes, I was from Australia. The enforcer caught a knowing grin, “Welcome,” he said, “Welcome to Lebanon.” I felt a faint tinge of regret as I let out a sigh of relief and returned his greetings.

I struck up a conversation with a man sitting to my left on the sleeping pads who I learned was a doctor from Iraq who had been imprisoned for 54 days after being detained for immigration issues at a border crossing into Lebanon. At this, I swallowed hard, but he assured me that I would be out in a few days at worst. Countries that have embassies, he explained, always send people down to help. The guys from Thailand and Saudi Arabia got fresh clothes and food every morning. He was not so lucky.

I was only there for maybe half an hour when a military officer came to get me. I was hoping this was my ticket out, but my respite was brief. I handed him some documents and back I went. Another hour went by, and I was let out again. This time I was led past all the cells to an office where I sat counting the minutes as I watched the officers clock out one by one, grab their jackets and berets, and head out the door. My chances of leaving seemed increasingly grim as time passed, but at what seemed like the last possible moment, ‘le directeur’ emerged from his office. He came over to me, asked another officer who I was, tossed me a quick wink as if to say “Yella, let’s go” and we headed out the door. I don’t think I’ve ever be so happy to breath fresh air in my life.

In all, I was only in jail for the day. And to be honest, it wasn’t all bad. I was a bit concerned what spending the night would be like, but I met some interesting folks and learned an important lesson. I never really did find out why I was put in jail, but it doesn’t much matter, and I can assume it had a lot to do with the approach I took toward dealing with the military officers at General Security. I was quite sure based on my experience living here so far that assertiveness was the right tactic, but looking back, I was clearly mistaken. It was foolish to assume that I knew beyond doubt what I was doing, and I obviously should have shown some more deference to people who had a lot more power than I did.

Reaching into my pocket as I left the General Security compound, it occurred to me that after everything, at the very least, I had gotten a free pack of cigarettes out of the deal from my Sudanese friend. I think I’ll be saving those as a souvenir. Now how to explain this to my mother…

(So the following actually took place a few weeks ago, but by request, I’ve written an exceedingly long account of everything that happened. Certainly not a typical Lebanese experience, but an unfortunate twist of living in a strange land…)

I think my first thought when they shut the cell door was something along the lines of “Oh. Okay. So that’s what happens when they put you in jail… Crap.” And I’m not a smoker. I don’t smoke cigarettes. But I clearly remember my second thought being “Man, I need a cigarette.” It had been a long day.

The story really begins the day before. I believe my last post actually referenced this marathon of bureaucracy and I think I gave some grand advice about never loosing your passport in Lebanon, which I stand by. I also made the connection between the folks I was dealing with at the Lebanese General Security office and the insufferable French commander from the movie The Battle of Algiers, Colonel Mathieu. Unfortunately, I didn’t know just how accurate that comparison was. The only difference may have been that for all his authoritarianism, at least Colonel Mathieu had a real solid sense of humor.

On Tuesday I went back to one of the Lebanese General Security buildings as instructed at 9am, hoping to get the simple police report that my embassy hold told me I needed to show them and that a dozen Lebanese officials of various rank were unable to produce without signatures from the Prime Minister, Waldo (Where is he?), and Batman himself (Christian Bale would not suffice, I would have to find the Batcave). What I learned from the day before, and from my first two weeks in this country as a whole, was that generally speaking you can’t accomplish much unless you are assertive and refuse to let people step on you. This mantra served me well on Monday and when I came to the military wing of the GS Office on Tues, I was convinced of my tactics. I was sticking to my guns. Unfortunately- and there are a lot of unfortunately’s in this tale- I did not factor in the simple truth that military men are not civilians and do not take kindly to assertiveness. They had bigger guns than I did. After getting the run-around for a solid three hours, I was terrified that my application for a police report would get lost amidst the literally thousands of papers and carbon copies piled on desks throughout the building– not a single computer, photocopy machine, or even filing cabinet for that matter in sight. I told a few people that I wasn’t leaving until I got my police report and was pretty satisfied when I was brought to the office of an important-looking guy in new fatigues and shiny boots who was wearing his beret indoors. The man sat me down and told me, “I think… eh, you might have to pay 70,000 Lebanese pounds [just over $25] in order to get this processed immediately.” Given his hushed tone and seeming uncertainty with the truth of his statement, I was convinced this man was asking for a bribe. I would later be told by higher authorities that this was not a bribe at all, so in hindsight I clearly made a poor judgment. But at the time I was sure of my impression, and reacting as much to the insanity of the whole situation as to what was just told to me, I cracked an incredulous smile. The general’s face went blank and showed that he had no idea why I was smiling. “He really expects me to grease his palms for this,” I thought to myself. My smile broke into a chuckle, and for a few solid seconds the chuckle gave way to a deep, Santa Clause, belly rumbling guffaw. This time the general’s face was not skeptical nor inquisitive, it was flush with rage. I was directed to get out of his sight immediately, and I complied, only to realize that I didn’t know where to go next. Finding myself in another sticky situation, I returned a few minutes later to ask what I could do. I ran into even more angry words and curses, this time in English. After standing in the hall of the fourth floor of the General Security building for a good twenty minutes as a few military guys stared and others tried their hardest to ignore me, I took out my pen and started writing down the names on the doors of the various offices. I thought just in case I finally met someone who was helpful, I could explain where I’ve been. Or at the very least it would improve my Arabic handwriting. The bystanders were apparently not aware that I was a student of the language, and assumed I was getting ready to tattle on the aforementioned angry important-looking guy. It was about when he found out about this that my fate was sealed I think. There were more rooms and more generals and more signatures, and along the way I picked up one and then another escort with guns, but since they were carrying around an official-looking report I thought perhaps I was nearing the end of my journey. Unfortunately (there’s another one), that wasn’t my police report, it was my receipt. For jail.

Things started to feel wrong when I was sitting in one nondescript office next to my new entourage and a soldier came over and told me to put on some handcuffs. I had a brief moment of panic, but when I refused, everyone in the room had a good laugh, and I gathered they were just trying to lighten the mood a bit. They didn’t push the issue and although I thought the joke in poor taste, I let it slide. After this pit stop, we were off to a police jeep which was parked outside. I happily bounded into the back seat like a puppy on his first trip to the park. Thinking back, these guys must have never had an easier time transporting someone to prison. Of course I asked where the field trip was headed, but the only response from the driver and his accomplice up front was that we were headed to “Chez le directeur.” I thought perhaps this was finally it. I had figured out how to speak to the head honcho. I was going right to the top. The director. In a jeep. Fantastic. I would be on my way back to the embassy for my new passport in no time. Unfortunately, my dreams began to fall apart when the police jeep made a hard turn into what appeared to be a tremendous cement parking garage beneath an overpass. Led from the truck down a dark, wet stairway with several armed guards standing sentinel it seemed an inauspicious home for a directeur, and it was unlikely we had stopped there for coffee and donuts on the way. Still, when the clanking of doors became audible, then dozens of jail cells became visible, and then a man with a large manifesto before him demanded my name, I gave the boys the benefit of the doubt. Wasn’t it possible the prison warden was the one I needed to speak to? In a flash as the door of the holding cell slammed shut, however, I finally put the pieces together with all the excitement of a foreigner who has just found out he is going to jail. “Does anyone have a cigarette?”

So, I’ll let my thoughts cool, and as per my last promise and inresponse to some comments (thanks for those, I love the feedback), a bit more about al Majmoua and the role Kiva plays in this whole microfinance thing…

(Disclaimer: I was not a finance major, so I shall do my best to relate the financial info as I have interpreted it to those who are still new like me. For those better versed, feel free to correct me where I go astray…)

Majmoua began as a microcredit program in 1994 under the stewardship of Save the Children. Until about 1999 alMajmoua lent primarily to women and primarily to solidarity groups, not individual borrowers. This of course followed the Grameen model by using the “moral guarantee” of a lending group where there was a scarcity of fixed assets from which to draw. Just before the new millennium however, al Majmoua began expanding its reach and opened up its loans to men and to individual borrowers. Now, with a staff of nearly 90 and $8 million in outstanding loans, al Majmoua has broken its operations into various departments tailored to the needs of very different populations. Under the microcredit umbrella, the Poverty group lending division dispenses loans starting at $100 which are mainly geared toward rural women who have few marketable skills. There is also a non-Poverty group lending division which focuses on those who have established businesses but still lack the capital needed to take out individual loans or loans from an established bank. Al Majmouaalso provides individual loans to more established customers, vulnerable workers (who aren’t borrowing money for their own business, but cannot access formal credit markets), seasonalworkers (in agriculture or tourism, who experience periods of access to capital and periods of no access to capital), families who request home improvement loans, as well as a few Small and Medium Enterprises (SMEs). Alongside their credit services, al Majmouaalso provides their clients with financial education, business management assistance, and skills training. This last opportunity is unique in that al Majmoua tries to tailor their training to skills which will have an immediate and significant impact on their clients ability to work in their region. Many vocational schools here teach skills such as hairdressing, tailoring, or car repair that have already saturated the various markets. Training unskilled workers in these trades provides little benefit. 90% of these non-credit services are being given to women (about 4,000 people in total) and are largely subsidized by grants given to Majmoua from various international donors. That said, the credit side of al Majmoua has been self-sufficient since about 2004. Since then, a small profit has enabled the MFI to lower interest rates and expand their portfolio. Still, in order to sustain more growth, al Majmoua needs more money. 

Generally, in order to have enough capital to sustain growth, any MFIwhich is not grant-subsidized will need to borrow money from one of the huge international investors such as Deutche Bank, Merrill Lynch etc in order to provide loans to its developing entrepreneurs. When the MFI makes a profit (from interest on their loans), as Al Majmouadid in 2006, this money becomes available to increase the number of loans that can be given out, but often the demand for loans outstrips the amount of safely available capital. Thus the MFI must themselves borrow in order to lend. While they aren’t borrowing enormous sums by international banking standards, the MFI’s are still being charged 10% interest on these loans from the Big Banks. Let’s say Majmoua, for example, looks to borrow $1 million to replenish its stock of capital and keep expanding its reach within Lebanon. If that $1 million comes from a Big Bank, the MFI is passing on a $100,000 cost to its clients, who will see this in the form of higher interest rates for their micro-loans. If the MFI can obtain a Aaacredit rating from one of the few international credit rating agencies (basically the highest possible garunteethat the company has a stable portfolio of investments), then it can get its capitalfrom a local investment bank at a lower rate, say 6% interest. The Aaa rating is difficult to obtain however, involves its own costs in auditing etc, and is still a significant sum.

Enter Kiva. Kivaintroduces an entirely new concept by offering a source of investment capital for the micro-banks at 0% interest. Because Kiva is given free use of PayPal, there are no transaction costs either. That means that when an individual logs onto Kiva and donates $25, that $25 goes directly, in whole, to the MFI of choice, and is in turn lent out without any cost to the MFI. The money is shipped from the debit card of the donor in New York to the account of the MFI in Beirut to the hand of the dress seamstress on Abd al Wahabstreet. This is a truly revolutionary concept, because it gets rid of a whole lot of middle men. Yes, you say, but isn’t the MFI still making money off of poor people? In a way, yes. But the alternatives aren’t so great, the on-the-ground costs are still enormous, and as I mentioned they do much more than just lend money, i.e. job training. Wa’Allah, perhaps that’s a discussion for another time.

Next time: who are the Majmoua clients? Until then, m’aa salaama, with peace,

JJ, fee Beirut

I will be spending the next 10 weeks working with one of the leading Lebanese microfinance institutions, Al Majmoua, and soaking up as much of this incredible country as possible. I’ve been in Beirut now for about five days, and I’ve decided to decide nothing just yet. Beirut has been at various times terrifying, invigorating, frustrating, beautiful, mysterious, and hilarious.

Echoing a trend from the blogs of many of my fellow Kiva Fellows, my first exciting experience here was vehicular. Not vehicular homicide, nor even manslaughter but damn near close. You see, Road Rules don’t exist in Beirut per say: it’s more like, whoever is on the road, rules. At least that’s what every driver thinks. Taxiing from the airport, my cab driver proved his worth by skillfully weaving between oncoming mopeds and inter-city minivans who cared little for the appropriate direction of travel. Clearly my guy was from the mountains, because the ride was much more slalom skiing than it was driving. Most drivers here don’t hesitate to drive the wrong way down roads, drive backwards down roads, stop in the middle of highways to pick up passengers, blow through what few stoplights exist, or park in any direction or on every conceivable inch of open asphalt. And then, of course, there’s the incessant honking, which, roughly translated, could mean anything from: “Hey, good morning,” to “Do you need a taxi?” to “Are you SURE you don’t need a taxi?” to “You had better move because I’m probably not stopping.” There are of course variations in between, and its always an exciting part of any walk to find out who wins those epic showdowns between oncoming cars who meet on a one-way road.

I spent much of my first weekend in Beirut getting lost in order to get my bearings, as every good traveler knows to do when most streets don’t have names and addresses are described by the big buildings near which they are found. I ventured out looking for an apartment to rent and instead took a grand tour of the city. I walked down the sea hugging promenade of Corniche, through the center of Lebanese nightlife in Gemayzeh, around the luxury condos of Achrifiyeh, across the former Green Line into neighborhoods plastered with posters of Hassan Nasrallah, and eventually found myself standing in Place De Martyres, for many reasons the heart of Beirut, though nothing stands there now save a small iron statue and a tent-museum honoring Rafiq Hariri. The surrounding neighborhood of Solidere was left a wasteland after it had been the epicenter of the horrible violence of the nearly 30-year Lebanese Civil War. Now, it is an haute-culture heaven, paved with granite and infused with all sorts of chic cafes, alongside such traditional Lebanese shops as Salvatore Ferragamo, Porsche, and Dunkin Donuts.

This of course is the new Beirut. And though every block has its share of condemned buildings still bearing gaping wounds from decades of shelling, the center of this city is as far from the past as can be. It seems like that was the intention. As is the case in so many modern developing capitals, Beirut is full of contrast. This point was reinforced during my first field visits at Al Majmoua with Kiva clients, but I promise, I will get to that for the next post. I fear I’ve written too much already. Until the next time, m’aa salaama, with peace,

- JJ, fee Beirut