Reflections - NGOs

My recent trip home and subsequent return to Rwanda offered me some more perspective on my experience here, and gave me a chance to reflect on how much some of my ideas and the way I think about things have changed since I got here.

In reality, I’ve been influenced not only by my experience here, but also by a relatively new habit of keeping up with the blogosphere (Texas in Africa, Chris Blattman, and Tales from the Hood are must-reads for anyone interested in Africa, development, or humanitarianism), by some books I’ve read recently (namely Desire for Development and Dead Aid), and by a few extremely intelligent and insightful friends.

Since arriving in Rwanda, I’ve been appalled with NGOs for all the reasons I thought I would be, all of which were also reasons I was appalled by the State Department. As I’ve ranted before, NGOs waste an inordinate amount of money. I won’t get into it again, but the amount of money wasted, and the things it gets wasted on, is truly unbelievable. Then, there’s the level of bureaucracy: NGO workers are about as efficient as bureaucrats, at least at many of the larger organizations. It’s hard to tell if NGOs actually provide aid, or if they just push papers, fill out forms, enter data, and write reports. I fully recognize that monitoring and evaluation is absolutely crucial to any project, and I’m not suggesting it be ignored. However, I’m pretty sure some organizations invent paperwork to be filled out, just for giggles. And, these organizations are often phenomenally disorganized - papers and files are constantly lost, nothing is in order, nothing is where it belongs, things have to be done multiple times because the original is missing, all the information contradicts itself.

Next, people lie on reports to supervisors and donors. How many people did you train? How long did the training last? What topics did you cover? Projects look successful because the reports look successful. Many NGO employees, local and foreign, are concerned with keeping their job, but not necessarily with providing aid. So, they submit reports full of lies about the work they did, making them appear successful to their supervisors, when they haven’t actually done a whole lot. And it’s extremely difficult to prove that or to stop it from happening.

Finally, many of these organizations are far too out of touch with local realities to be effective. Projects are designed by Americans sitting in offices in Washington, D.C., decisions are made by people who work in air-conditioned Kigali offices and go home to sprawling villas in all-white neighborhoods, programs are improved by “consultants” who fly in and stay at the Serena for a few weeks. Nobody spends time in the communities where the projects will be implemented. Nobody lives according to local standards. Nobody puts in the time and effort to understand local systems, values, beliefs, needs, resources. How can you create an effective program when you know almost nothing about the community where the program will take place or the people you are trying to help?

Some counter-arguments to that last complaint, though, have merit, I think. People, generally, can’t indefinitely live the kind of lifestyle that would allow the kind of extensive understanding that is necessary. People burn out, they have families at home, they grow sick of sacrificing their personal lives. Besides, there certainly aren’t enough people to allow an in-depth understanding of every single community in which aid projects might possibly take place. So, where does that leave us? I’m not sure.

My view toward such organizations isn’t the only thing that’s shifted recently, but I’ll save my rambles about other things (namely related to the behavior of Westerners in Africa) for another time.

Choosing Beneficiaries

Something I’ve thought about quite a bit since I arrived in Nyagatare is the methods NGOs and government organizations use to choose beneficiaries for their projects. Some projects – such as building wells, libraries, or health centers – are communal in nature and can benefit everyone in a certain area. But, other projects, such as providing scholarships, forming cooperatives, and granting loans, can only benefit a finite number of people, which raises the question – how do (and how should) organizations choose the beneficiaries for their projects?

Projects I’ve observed here in Rwanda choose their beneficiaries based on any number of factors. Some organizations choose people who were beneficiaries of their previous projects. Other times, projects target a particular group, such as orphans or people living with HIV (or a subset of a group) and benefit all members of that group in a certain area. For example, perhaps an organization will decide that the beneficiaries of a project will be all the female orphans in primary school in a particular community, or all the teenagers living with HIV in a particular community.

In these examples, an organization basically comes up with some criteria – which may or may not measure how much a person needs aid or how much they will benefit from it – to whittle a larger population down to a feasible number of beneficiaries. However, in some cases, not even that much thought is put into choosing beneficiaries. I’m fairly certain than beneficiaries are sometimes chosen literally at random – whoever an NGO worker runs into and can persuade to sign their name on a piece of paper becomes a beneficiary. Regardless of the criteria, in many cases, nobody from the NGO actually knows the people in the population or tries to determine who needs the aid the most or who will use it the most effectively.

And that’s what makes me wonder: would it be better if beneficiaries were chosen by people who actually knew them? If beneficiaries were chosen not based on whether they fit random demographic criteria, but instead on their aptitude, work ethic, and commitment to bettering their community, as well as the extent to which they could benefit from assistance? (As a disclaimer, I’m not saying NGOs should only provide assistance to the most intelligent, proactive members of a population – that could even create additional problems by exacerbating inequality.)

I really started thinking about this when one of my good friends here commented on how much his English has improved from spending time with me. While I’m thrilled to be helping him, I initially felt a little guilty that he’s benefiting from me being here more than other people are, based on the random event that we happened to become friends. Then I realized that the fact we’re friends isn’t really all that random. We’re friends largely because he’s a kind and genuine person who doesn’t harass me or ask me for things. After hearing about his difficult past, realizing that he works incredibly hard, and seeing how much he wants to help other people, it occurred to me that he is exactly the type of person I want to help – and the type of person who will effectively use whatever type of aid he receives.

So, it seems that choosing beneficiaries based on criteria like these could reward people who are hard-working and give assistance to people who would use it well. They should be selected by people who know them and the community, not by people who have chosen a demographic at random, and certainly not by NGO workers who are only concerned with meeting a target number of beneficiaries.

Back to Work

After my vacation, I’m really excited to be getting back to work and developing new projects.

The day after I arrived in Kigali, I picked up a MoneyGram from Water Charity, which is funding the project I’m doing at St. Leonard Nursery and Primary School. By the end of this month, water tanks will be installed and people at the school will finally have a place to wash their hands. When staff at Groupe Scolaire Nyagatare, a public school in town, heard about the project at St. Leonard, they immediately asked how they could do the same thing. So, when the first project is completed, we’ll be starting a nearly identical one at that school.

In addition, I’m teaching English classes at St. Leonard this term. I’m only teaching part-time, but I’ll have classes ranging from Primary 3 to Primary 6. As all the teachers are Rwandan and the school’s past volunteers have been German, this will be the first time any of the students have had a native English speaker as a teacher. I hope it will be an opportunity for cultural exchange as well as exposure to relevant topics that aren’t covered in other classes. I’m also excited about the opportunity to gain more teaching experience and to learn more about Rwanda’s education system and education in general. If time allows, I’ll also be teaching part time at Mary Hill Girls’ Secondary School, a brand new school that is still under construction and will begin classes next month.

I’ll also be working more with Dutabare Association, an NGO in a village outside Nyagatare. At the moment, I’m helping them apply for a grant, which will fund a project they’ve designed but don’t have the means to implement. If we get the grant, a group of Dutabare’s beneficiaries will be able to purchase 400 chickens, chicken feed, and veterinary supplies and construct a chicken coop. Then, half of the eggs will be used to feed malnourished children in the area, and the other half will be sold in the market. The income generated from selling the eggs will be used to sustain the project and will also provide a sustainable source of funding for future projects. I’ve been extremely impressed by how professional, dedicated, and innovative the organization’s volunteers are (none of the people who work there get paid), and I’m really excited to work more with them in the future.

Additionally, I’m working on finding funding (or, better yet, a long-term partner) for the Presbyterian Church here. While I’m not as committed to helping them finance a new church building, provide accommodation for pastors, or build new churches in rural areas, I’m very enthusiastic about their idea to build a community center that will house a bookstore, library, and pre-school, offer basic literacy and health classes for adults, and serve as a workspace for cooperatives. I’m also excited about the possibility of funding scholarships for university students. (The government cut the university scholarship program, meaning many of the students who studied in Nyagatare last year will likely be unable to complete their degree.) I’ve just started talking with an interested church at home, so I hope they decide to go ahead with the partnership.

Return to Rwanda

How did so many things here change in the mere four weeks I was gone? MTN has lowered the prices for their wireless Hot Spots in Kigali, and Tigo has lowered the prices for their Internet modems. Meanwhile, Bourbon, Magda, and White Horse all overhauled their menus and raised their prices. (Though Bourbon now has a rolex equivalent, which is awesome – and cheaper than what I used to get there!) Just in Nyagatare, a new shoe store and a little restaurant opened up, a bottled-drinks wholesaler appeared, and the “massage parlor” became a bar. If the definition of develop is “change,” Rwanda is definitely developing!

Anyway, I arrived at the airport last Tuesday night, and found myself without adequate cab fare, no place to exchange money, and a broken ATM. Fortunately, a kind cab driver agreed to accept the combination of $3, 5 Euros, and 2,500 Rwandan francs I had with me – and he let me use his phone!

I spent the next day running errands and relaxing in Kigali. It felt really good to be back, and all I could think about was how it just felt like summer. It was so beautiful. The following day, I made the trip back to Nyagatare – along with my somewhat excessive amount of luggage, which caused a bit of a scene. People here seemed excited to see me again, and it was really nice to be welcomed back.

While I can’t say I don’t miss hot showers, cold water, and American food, the lack of those things is nominal compared to how much the staring has already begun to get somewhat irritating again. The other thing that’s been difficult is getting used to once again living alone and spending a lot of time alone and being away from my family and friends. But, I know a couple weeks are all it will take for those feelings to mostly subside.

Plus, it has been wonderful to see my friends here in Nyagatare, and to give them their gifts from the U.S., which they’ve seemed to really like. My neighbors, Rebecca and Deborah, were really excited by the Bath & Body Works body spray and both cracked up over the little stuffed animals I brought for their babies (Deborah has a four-month-old boy, and Rebecca is due next month). My friend Alex insisted that the watch that “Brian” helped me pick out for him was “a brilliant choice.” I still have a slew of gifts left to distribute, and I hope they are all as well-received. Another plus to being back in Rwanda is that Fanta Orange and Fanta Lemon are awesome – and totally different than in the U.S. In other news, the new school year started here on Monday - meaning all my friends are finally back!

I’m also really happy to get back to work here and really excited about the new projects I’ll be working on. But more on that later – for now I’m just trying to readjust, get settled, and recover from jet lag.

Vacation in America

I’ve been back in Rwanda for a week now, after a nearly month-long trip to the U.S. I’m thrilled I was able to go home for the holidays and see my family and friends, and, while leaving was hard (as it always is), it has been nice to be back.

On December 10^th, I took the three-hour bus ride from Nyagatare to Kigali and met up with fellow Peace Corps Volunteers for coffee at Magda and pizza at Sol e Luna, before heading to Kigali International Airport to catch the red-eye to Amsterdam. As this was my first flight out of Kigali, I didn’t know what to expect at the airport. I was pleasantly surprised by the free and speedy wireless Internet, but the airport was overall less fancy than I would have expected, especially given the number of bazungu in this country. In every developing-country airport I’ve been to (with the possible exception of the one in Dakar, pre-renovation), I’ve been surprised (if not completely shocked!) at how nice they’ve been and how much they’ve had to offer. Bagel shop in San Salvador, McDonald’s in Guatemala City, delicious cafés in Entebbe and Casablanca! But Kigali’s, being more like what you might expect, was small and empty, save for a small bar, a duty-free store, and two souvenir shops (one of which was closed) – all of which, as well as the only bathrooms, were located before security. Speaking of which, I got taken into a private room for a pat-down after I set off the metal detector – first time that’s ever happened!

Anyhow, the plane was nearly empty when we took off, but we picked up the remaining three-quarters or so of Amsterdam-bound passengers about thirty minutes later, when we touched down in Entebbe. The rest of the trip was uneventful, until early the next afternoon. Minneapolis had just been bombarded by a huge snowstorm, effectively shutting down the airport. We circled in the air above the Twin Cities for an hour or so, hoping the airport would re-open, until we had nearly run out of fuel and had to re-route to Detroit. I was annoyed by the consequent five-hour wait in line (as hundreds and hundreds of stranded Delta passengers who had gotten there before me re-booked their flights), and I was disappointed by the realization that I would not be making it home that night. But, I was also relieved to simply blend in and not be stared at, and Delta’s offer of a room at the Hilton Garden and $20 in food vouchers went a long way toward making up for the disappointment. If I couldn’t be with my family, at least I could enjoy hot running water, hi-speed Internet, 30 English-language TV stations, and room service! The next day, following the world’s longest layover in Minneapolis (during which I indulged in a massage, feasted on a bagel, and bought my mom a Christmas gift at The Body Shop), I finally made it to Great Falls. Only about 30 hours late.

During the trip and for the first couple days in Great Falls, the sheer amount of choices was a bit overwhelming. What store should I go to first? What kind of latte do I want? What TV station should I watch? Where do I want to eat? What do I want to order? What book jacket should I read? My shock at the seeming excess of choices wore off fairly quickly, but the pleasure of having them did not.

Being able to understand what everyone said and not being constantly stared at, talked about, judged, or called muzungu was simply glorious. Really. If there’s one thing I was unprepared for coming into the Peace Corps, it’s how much constantly being the center of attention wears on you. I never thought it could become so stressful or irritating, especially since it hasn’t bothered me much during my other experiences in Africa. But, when you’re the only white person around and you deal with it day in and day out for months on end, it just really runs you down. Anyhow, not being a spectacle 24/7 was honestly one of the best things about being in the U.S.

Being really clean was also extremely pleasant. Bucket showers are not nearly as bad as people who haven’t experienced them seem to believe, and they can be downright refreshing. But, nothing gets you feeling clean like hot water shooting with pressure out of a showerhead. Similarly, handwashing clothes isn’t so bad, but nothing beats a washing machine when it comes to level of cleanliness. Tossing them in the dryer afterward is just a bonus. Plus, when roads are paved, dirt doesn’t fall out of the ceiling at random, and dust doesn’t whirl through the air and eventually coat everything, it’s a lot easier to stay clean. My feet were an entirely different color in the U.S. than they have been during the past ten months.

Also exciting was the gym. If I wanted to exercise here, I’d have to go running outside, which honestly would cause a bigger scene than I can begin to describe. Would you want to go for a run through town if every single person dropped what they were doing to watch you, then laughed at you and turned to their friends to talk about you, and half the children started chasing you? Some Volunteers do it, but I am not one of them. With that in mind, being able to exercise in peace was great, as was the presence of ellipticals and weight machines and the option of watching House Hunters and Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations while exercising. Plus, my gym at home has floor-to-ceiling windows on one wall and overlooks a valley that was snow-covered the entire time I was there.

A hodge-podge of other joys: The cell phone network always work, rather than sporadically being “busy” and refusing to allow you to make a call. The Internet is fast – I watched videos online, downloaded countless movies and podasts, and updated all my software. People are on time, and when they said they will do something or be somewhere, they generally mean it. Restaurants – you can assume it won’t take an hour to bring your food, that everything on the menu will actually be available, and that whatever you have will be about the same as it was the last time you had it. Snow is beautiful. Movie theaters are cool (even if How Do You Know? isn’t that great), and movie theater popcorn is delicious.

There’s nothing like being at home for the holidays, and being able to see my family and friends after ten months was truly a blessing. For the most part, things in the U.S. were about what I had been expecting. I think I readjusted really quickly, and after a couple days, it felt like I’d been in the U.S. forever. I was extremely excited about a lot of seemingly mundane things, but I certainly wasn’t unable to cope. Part of that, I think, is that, the more you go back and forth between developed and undeveloped places (including travels from village to capital city as well as from Africa to America), the less each trip shocks you. Since I’ve been going back and forth from Kigali to Nyagatare about once a month all year, and since this was my third time returning home from living in Africa, it wasn’t as shocking as it might have been. Also, Rwanda is frankly not that poor. It’s not that underdeveloped, there’s not that much you can’t find, nobody is that isolated. So, the gap just isn’t as big. Is Bourbon really that different from Starbucks? Is Nakumatt really that different from Albertson’s? Is Belvedere really that different from Greyhound? (Wait, I think it’s nicer than Greyhound, and than most of the planes that fly into Great Falls.) While I was thrilled to have access to the luxuries of America, and I will be thrilled again the next time I have them (and I’ll even be moderately excited the next time I head into Kigali), I don’t want to paint Rwanda, even the rural areas, as some sort of desolate, untamed jungle. Because (while poverty and suffering does exist here), it’s really not.

Stay tuned for reflections on my return to The Land of a Thousand Hills.