Nh Blog

Easter, etc.

Sun, 8 May 2011 07:52:05 +0000

Jen does an impression of our supervisor reading his emails. She puts her hands in her hair and paces with a worried look on her face. She air scribbles something furiously on a piece of imaginary paper, and then crosses it out. Carmen laughs and says, “Jade yells at her computer!” I say, “I told you so!” Last week Carmen had been in Bamako and stayed with me. The person who usually sits at the desk next to me was on vacation, so she used his desk. She does her own impression of me checking my email, “Are you KIDDING me?!” “WHAT?!!” she says exasperated. Intentional or not, I note a tinge of sadness in her depiction of me. Through her I see my own defeat and weariness.
Last week we had all been in Bamako together, relaxing and celebrating Easter weekend by the pool. A 9 hour car ride later, I am still with them but this time in Mopti. It had unfortunately been a while since my last trip to the sub-office and I specifically chose this week to be able to spend more time with them. I am glad I did this. We spend way too much time talking about work, but still our time together has been healing for me.
We started by talking about Jen. She had a bad day- received a bad email (on a Saturday). She used the word “livid.” It is moments like that, she said, that make her want to leave this place. And sometimes, that’s all it takes- one email to push you and all of your frustrations over the edge. The thing is, only one day before, the same thing happened to me.
My day started by having breakfast at the hotel. I was sitting outside, enjoying the bright blue sky and a cup of tea with bread and mango jelly. Carmen came to pick me up and sat with me for a few minutes. I sat there looking at the buildings and the sky, and remembered all the reasons I love Africa and why I am here. Hours later, I would receive an email notifying me (cc-ing others) that my position is changing and leaving it unclear whether or not I still had a job at all. My supervisor had sent this email to me, while sitting next to me during a meeting. He had shared confidential information with people who had no business knowing. He had told me all this via email, instead of taking five minutes to talk to me. Even as I sat next to him, he saw nothing wrong with sending this email.
When I finally read the email, I immediately called the CR asking if I still had a job. I did. Again, for what seems the hundredth time, I expressed my frustration, my weariness. He was reassuring and handled it as well as he could have. I felt bad for him, always having to clean up after others. Yet all the messes have become too much. If only I received these emails once a week, instead of once a day, multiple times a day, maybe somehow it would be easier to deal with. I see change on the horizon. I want to believe things will improve. But change just isn’t coming fast enough.

[New photo album for Easter, etc. showing pics from Carmen and I hiking near our hotel and an agroenterprise training I attended in Tominian.]

Rain!

Wed, 6 Apr 2011 19:40:32 +0000

After weeks of over 100 degree heat, all of a sudden...rain! Around 7.30pm it began as a few drops. The sound puzzled me. Then the whole sky erupted into a torrential downpour. I ran to the window. I couldn’t believe that in the hot season, there could be rain. Really, the rain should start in June. But with global warming, the once-predictable seasons are now unpredictable.

I have been feeling particularly burned out lately. I am overwhelmed at work and running out of de-stress solutions. Not to mention my health seems to be a bit shaky. Anemic? Thyroid? A tropical disease? Who knows.

But this rain is just what I needed. A blast of cold air, something new and different. Potential for new fruits and green landscapes.

I light a candle and crawl into bed under my mosquito net. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel Cameroon around me, in my old room, with my dirty feet. If I left Africa, these are the moments I would miss the most.

Spain, etc.

Fri, 18 Mar 2011 17:58:01 +0000

A few weeks ago I decided it was time for a vacation and took off for southern Spain. I spent a good amount of time on trains, walking around exploring, eating (of course!) and resting. By the end of the week, I found myself well-rested, well-fed, and well-loved.

Since then I’ve settled back into my normal routine. Well, it was normal until last week’s warden message. Last week’s US Embassy Warden Message said that Americans were going to be targeted, with potential for kidnapping. The American Club cancelled all events, the American School shut down for almost a full week, and many expats (American or otherwise) “hunkered down” and didn’t leave their houses. Suddenly, I found myself stressed in a new way. Would I ever have a social life? Would I be asked to work from home for as long as I’m here? I moved to Mali precisely to avoid the communal living situations and security restrictions that exist in more dangerous countries like Sudan and Afghanistan. I wanted to have a life apart from work. The stress that comes with fear for one’s personal safety plus a loss of freedom of movement is not easy to describe. I could feel it in my muscles.

After about 5 days of a sudden hysteria that took over the expat world here, another warden message was issued negating the previous one. School reopened. Events are back on. And just as suddenly, I have my freedom again.

For now, at least. I don’t expect this on-going threat to really ever go away. As long as there are bandits and al-qaeda in the Malian desert, and Malian mercenaries in Libya, coupled with a weak government, no one is safe.

More on expat life...

Fri, 18 Feb 2011 22:00:07 +0000

Following on my last post, I thought I’d share a quote from an expat blog:
“One of the most beautiful things about being an expat is that you are free in a way few other people really are; you can leave a place any time you want to! And this is one of the worst things about being an expat: you can leave a place any time you want to.”
The blog goes on to say that it can be difficult for expats to appreciate where they are, simply because there is always the option of leaving. I can say, given the many many conversations I’ve had lately with a number of different expats, this is true. We are constantly evaluating if we are in the right job, country, continent, etc.
This brings me back to a concept a friend of mine pointed out to me a long time ago, “the paradox of choice.” The idea that having too many choices can be a bad thing. Well, having the option of traveling to almost any country in the world means having a lot of choices.

Aid workers retreat

Fri, 18 Feb 2011 21:01:21 +0000

I recently came across a website/business that holds retreats specifically for expats and aid workers. The idea is to help aid workers deal with stress, burnout, trauma, and all the other usual stuff that goes with the territory. In my opinion, it’s a good idea for a business. There is certainly no shortage of aid workers in need of a retreat.
This reminds me of something we (aid/development workers) often consider when developing HIV and AIDS programs. Sure, it is important to get someone infected with HIV on treatment, appropriate medical attention, adequate nutrition, etc. But what about the person who cares for the patient? What about the person who changes the sheets and bathes the patient? This caretaker can be a child, a parent, a grandparent, a community health worker. This person oftentimes becomes infected. Also, the caretaker can get frustrated, angry, depressed. The caretaker can easily spend all their savings, food, etc. to care for the patient. We tend to think about HIV-affected households, rather than HIV-infected individuals. Anyway, this all brings me to the idea of “caring for the caretaker.”
Aid workers can spend a lot of time sitting in offices, going to meetings and writing emails. Still, the line between work and life is hard to distinguish. Working overtime, stress and illness are common. At the end of the day, you go home and you are still in Africa. Going out on the weekends, you can easily go to a party and run into donors, competitors and colleagues. As someone once told me, it is like living in a fishbowl, you can never turn off.
There is another side too. Despite spending a lot of time in an office, we can feel dedicated to our projects and beneficiaries. When a project closes or loses funding, we become distraught about how to continue to help those in need. Many of us have been in peace corps or another volunteer type program and spent significant time in a village. Even if we do not see our beneficiaries on a daily basis, we have each had experiences with similar people and it is their faces we remember when we work in our offices. Whether a project closes or a disaster hits, it pulls on our heart strings in a way that is difficult to describe.
Burn out happens. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it. And when it happens, we begin to fail those who need us.
So...I may not be caring for a sick person every day. But I do think aid workers need to take care of themselves, even if it’s something we don’t always think we need. Because if we don’t care for ourselves, how can we help those caretakers to care for those in need of care?