International

L’étranger, c’est exotique. . On veut voyager. On nous offre un stage en ce si bel étranger. On a déjà voyagé, on connait nos limites, on se sent fort, on peut réussir. Cependant, il faut plus que ça. Un stage et un voyage sont deux choses complètements différentes. Un voyage, on est de passage, on est plusieurs, on rencontre d’autres gens comme nous. Un stage, il y a une routine. On s’impose dans la routine des gens qui vivent ici. Il n’y a plus de jeune comme nous. C’est une nouvelle vie, vous venez de déménager.  Et cette fameuse routine nous sécurise. Je crois que ma routine a été la clef de mon intégration. Puisqu’une fois qu’elle fit installée j’ai pu mieux découvrir ce qui m’entourait et adapter peu à peu ma routine à mon nouvel environnement. Un des exemples les plus simples, c’est qu’à tous les matins je vais acheter mon pain à la petite alimentation du coin. Au départ, je me contentais de payer mon pain et de ressortir. Puis, au fil des jours je me suis mise à avoir des contacts avec les gens, à prendre des nouvelles etc. Je crois donc que c’est la clef de l’intégration, une routine de base qu’on étoffe tout au long du séjour.

Jusqu’à présent, je profite de toutes les occasions que cette expérience peut m’apporter. Mon stage me permet d’être en contact direct avec des gens de tous les milieux et ce à travers le pays.  Je tente donc de comprendre les différences entre les différentes régions du Burkina Faso. Puis, je me rends compte que c’est comme au Canada. Chacun préfère son coin de pays aux autres. Puis, pour confirmer la règle, certains préfère leur région d’adoption. J’avais l’impression en arrivant ici, que les régions se ressembleraient beaucoup étant donné que le pays est petit.  Mais ce n’est pas le cas. Les régions possèdent des grandes différences. Je crois même qu’elles sont encore plus différentes que les différentes régions au sein d’une de nos provinces. Premièrement, il y a les langues qui diffèrent d’une région à l’autre. La langue officielle du pays est le français. Cependant, les gens qui n’ont pas eu la chance d’aller à l’école ou autre, ne maîtrise pas bien le français. Puisque la langue maternelle des gens ici est le dialecte propre à leur région. Personnellement, je suis à Ouagadougou la capitale du Burkina. Le dialecte principal est le Mooré. Parfois il m’arrive donc de rencontrer des gens qui connaissent très peu le français et comme je connais très peu le Mooré, cela donne des conversations très divertissantes. Cependant, dans d’autres régions il s’agit du Djoula ou du Tutulé. Je ne suis malheureusement pas sur de l’orthographe, ces langues se parlant couramment, mais s’écrivant difficilement. Si je ne m’abuse, il existe près de 60 dialectes complètement différents. Je trouve cela très intéressant! Surtout si on compare avec la superficie du pays pourtant  pas si grande. Un autre aspect qui permet aux différentes régions de se distinguer entre elles est la religion. Il existe trois grandes familles de religions au Burkina : Musulmanes, Chrétiennes et Animistes. Chacune d’elles comportent des sous-familles. Ce qui au final donne un éventail assez impressionnant. Me retrouvant dans la capitale, j’ai la chance de voir une grande partie de ces différentes religions. Cependant, on m’a dit qu’habituellement dans les villages il y a une religion dominante qui regroupe les différentes familles du village.  J’ai cru comprendre que la religion servait d’élément rassembleur. Je crois qu’elle fonctionne un peu comme élément social de la société.   Par la suite, il y a aussi la culture en général qui diffère selon les régions. Il y a des différentes au niveau des croyances, des habitations, du code vestimentaire, du marché, des horaires, etc.  Depuis le début de mon stage, j’ai eu la chance de visiter plusieurs villages avoisinant. Un des villages devait se lever avant le soleil pour démontrer qu’il n’était pas paresseux. Un autre devait se lever avec le soleil pour ne pas ‘’insulter’’ le soleil. Du moins c’est ce que j’ai cru comprendre. J’ai un doute, par contre, sur l’utilisation du mot insulter. Je crois que cela tourne plutôt autour de l’optique que de se lever avant le soleil pourrait être vu comme un sacrilège.  Dans un village que j’ai visité on savait qu’on pouvait semer que lorsque le premier œuf de crocodile était éclos. Cela annonce la saison des pluies. Et ainsi de suite.  Je savais qu’il existait une grande diversité au Burkina Faso, cependant je ne croyais pas qu’elle était si riche.  Je ne m’explique pas le pourquoi. Cependant, je me souviens d’avoir entendu que les pays occidentaux avait séparés l’Afrique en différents ‘’territoires’’ sans se soucier des peuples y vivant. Je me l’explique en partie comme ça. Mais sinon, je ne saurais dire!

Une chose est sure! Je ne me plaindrais pas de cette diversité culturelle. Elle me permet d’apprendre sur le pays, certaines pratiques et tout. Il y a même certaines pratiques qui m’enchantent énormément. Je crois même avoir de la difficulté à les oublier une fois rendue au Canada. Comme par exemple la manière utilisée pour manger, les expressions locales, les horaires, le côté social ou tout simplement la sieste d’après-midi. J   

Ce stage possède aussi son côté touristique! Jusqu’à présent j’ai été visité une réserve d’animaux, pour faire un Safari en fait. J’ai aussi été visité des Caïmans sacrés.  Le safari était génial! J’ai vu les mêmes animaux que nous avons dans nos Zoo…sauf qu’ici ils sont sauvages et en libertés. L’expérience est sublime! En ce qui concerne les Caïmans sacrés j’ai appris une merveilleuse croyance et histoire :

Il y a très longtemps un peuple vivait sur les terres de cette région d’Afrique. À cette époque le tout ressemblait plus à une forêt tropicale qu’a un désert. Les femmes devaient parcourir une quinzaine de kilomètres pour pouvoir avoir accès à l’eau. Ce que celles-ci ne savaient pas, c’est que sous leurs pieds, il y avait de l’eau. Un jour, une femme à vue les traces d’un crocodile. Les traces étaient humides. Il y avait donc de l’eau à proximité. Elle a suivi les traces jusqu’à trouver un ‘’peuple ‘’ de crocodiles qui vivaient pour ainsi dire sous la terre. Les crocodiles avaient découvert une nappe d’eau souterraine. Les villageois ne croyaient pas à leur chance. Ils ont donc exploité cette nappe. Cependant, ils étaient des gens d’honneurs. Ils ne pouvaient chasser les crocodiles de leur habitat. Encore, moins les pourchasser et les tuer. Cette partie de la légende est floue…mais elle sous-entend un accord entre les crocodiles et les humains. Ces derniers les protégeraient et en échange les crocodiles feront de même. Les hommes créèrent une marre pour les crocodiles. Depuis, cette époque les crocodiles sont sacrés dans ce coin de pays. Il y en a environ une centaine. Les enfants, le bétail, jouent tout près de la marre, sinon directement dedans. Parfois un mouton disparait, mais plus souvent on les offres aux crocodiles. À chaque année, il y a une fête donné en leur honneur. De plus, un jour lorsqu’un crocodile étranger s’est aventurer dans le coin et que des enfants se baignaient dans l’eau (histoire vrai) les crocodiles de la marre se sont mis à crier et à faire un boucan d’enfer. Les enfants sont sortis de la marre en courant. Tous se demandaient ce qui se passait. Puis, ils ont vu le crocodile étranger, donc qui pouvait manger un homme… Les crocodiles sacrés ont chassé cet imposteur. Plusieurs autres histoires comme cela existent. Il y a même un jour ou un enfant s’est noyé dans la marre. Les parents le recherchaient. Ils ont fait des sacrifices (religion animiste) pour pouvoir retrouver au minimum le corps de l’enfant. Quelques instant plus tard, des crocodiles sortaient l’enfant de l’eau…ils avaient été le repêcher. Une autre histoire raconte, qu’ils ont directement sauvé l’enfant qui se noyait. D’autres histoires abordent dans le sens où il ne faut pas tuer les crocodiles. Des jeunes gens auraient torturés un bébé crocodiles…un peu comme nous et nos grenouilles. Le jour suivant, à l’endroit même où le bébé a été massacré, il y a eu un accident de voiture mortel. Une autre histoire raconte que 7 hommes ont tués des crocodiles….les 7 hommes sont mort peu de temps après de causes naturelles. Ça fait froid dans le dos n’est-ce pas. De plus, ces crocodiles pondent leurs œufs dans les villages. Ils le font dans les poubelles qui en fait est du compost. La chaleur de décomposition garde les œufs et comme c’est près des maisons, les animaux sauvages n’y vont pas. Lorsqu’un crocodile pond dans ta poubelle, tu ne le sais que lorsque les œufs éclosent. Tu vois à ce moment les coquilles qui jonchent le sol. Cela annonce aussi chance à ta famille. Lorsque les premiers éclats de coquilles apparaissent, cela signifie que la saison des pluies est là. Un peu comme notre marmotte. Les villageois peuvent donc semer sans avoir peur de perdre les récoltes.

So I have been in Cape Town for over four weeks now and it has been amazing! There is so much to do here, I could never possibly get it all done, but I am trying anyway!

Starting from the beginning I was excited to see palm trees as the airplane landed (but would later find out that palm trees are not actually indigenous to Cape Town). The first three days myself and the five other University of Ottawa interns stayed at a hostel on Muizenberg Beach (a beautiful surf ocean paradise) for orientation. Although we were jet-legged and hardly conscious the orientation was really enjoyable and the volunteer center organizers in charge of ‘orienting’ us were extremely welcoming, friendly and fun. A perfect introduction to Cape Town.

Then came the move into our host families. I live in Bo-Kaap; it is a region with a lot of history in its past. It is a predominantly Muslim community of which is largely descendent of the Malay slaves. Bo-Kaap is positioned in upper Cape Town (meaning up on the hills) and is such a beautifully unique place decorated with cobblestone roads and brightly coloured houses. My first introduction to Bo-Kaap was through my host mom (Leigh-Anne), my host dad (Trevor), and their two little girls, (Mia and Jenna who are five and two years old). What a wonderful family! They made me feel at home right away. However, despite their warm welcome and hospitality, for the first couple of days I was having a difficult time adjusting to a change in lifestyle: life went from freedom on the beach, constantly socializing with other interns and people my age to isolation and boredom in my city home where I didn’t know anyone (and we are not supposed to travel anywhere by ourselves for safety reasons). But this situation didn’t take long to turn around. Soon I met my co-workers, my host family’s friends, the German interns living across the street and absorbed an enormous amount of activities to try and cramp in each week. Something to keep in mind for all travellers out there: trust that you will adjust to your new lifestyle! Just stay positive!

My internship placement is on Robben Island working for the museum. This place has an extraordinary history having had many different purposes over the centuries; it served as a “refreshment station” for passing ships (exploited carelessly), a place of banishment and exile for political prisoners and common-law prisoners, a leper colony, a military fortress and naval base for training seamen. My first week of work on Robben Island (or non-work I should say) was quite interesting. The first day no-one showed up to take me to the island. The second day they were two hours late and still didn’t take me to the island. The third day I finally went to the island, but alas to find out that I would be giving an island tour to grade threes in less than five minutes (note that I have never seen the island before much less toured it or knew anything about it). On the fourth day I arrived at the island to find out that everyone else was at the mainland working and had to jump back on the 45 minute ferry. The next day I made sure to verify that I was to work at the island, followed these instruction, only to find out that again I should return to the mainland. A bit of advice that I would say is very important for potential South Africa travellers: don’t get caught up in following strict plans and exact agendas. It will only leave you frustrated. Just go with the flow and be open to the opportunities that you wouldn’t have gotten had plans actually gone accordingly.

On a more positive note when actually working at the Island I have sincerely enjoyed myself. I love the people and the atmosphere. The work place is so much more in tune with the fact that work is a means to an end, not an end in itself. Moreover, there is a high importance put on family and family time. My boss is very understanding of the bigger picture that people work to provide for their family; family is the number one priority.

Following this first week of confusion I was given the amazing opportunity of participating in an archaeology camp funded by the Netherland government. I spent two weeks meeting people from all over South Africa, the Netherlands and even Vancouver who had travelled here for the camp. I was invited to join in on the free scuba diving sessions to explore the unchartered Barrel Wreck site at which I become active in helping produce measurements for mapping. I also assisted the walking tour team with their task of presenting a proposal for improving the tour.

I am back to work now and am very much missing all of my archaeologist friends. But I am excited to embark on my new task of evaluating the Young Leaders Academy program. This is a program aimed at creating a youth generation of active heritage conservationists and community project leaders who engage in ensuring that the lessons learned from the apartheid era live on.

Now we’re getting to the really fun stuff: the weekend adventures! So far I have ventured into Green Point Park (where I may thoroughly enjoyed playing on the children’s jungle gym structures), bartered in the local Green Market Square for unique knick-knacks, danced along to a wild nightlife, basked in the ocean water at Camp’s Bay (aka South Africa’s little Miami), explored the Botanical Gardens in Kirstenbosh and conquered a four hour hike up Table Mountain (two places which are too beautiful for words).

There is so much more to say, but unfortunately I have to leave space on this web page for other people to write on! I am so excited to see what other adventures I will be able to write about next blog entry!

Salam Aleikoum tout le monde (Bonjour en Wolof),

Déjà quatre semaines se sont écoulées depuis mon arrivée au Sénégal. Je me rends compte à quel point le temps passe très vite. Le Sénégal est très mouvementé actuellement, car il y aura les élections présidentielles le 26 février 2012. Je constate que l’enjeu majeur dans la situation actuelle tourne autour de la candidature de Maître Abdoulaye Wade, le président actuel. En effet, la majorité de la population sénégalaise refuse que Maître Abdoulaye Wade soit de nouveau candidat aux élections de 2012. Toutefois, ce dernier veut absolument être réélu (président depuis le premier avril 2000). Depuis deux semaines, plusieurs milliers de Sénégalais manifestent, pour protester contre le projet de réforme constitutionnelle voulue par le président actuel Abdoulaye Wade.

Certaines manifestations sont très violentes et parfois, elles se produisent à environ 2 kilomètres de chez moi. J’entends les coups de feu, des gens qui crient « Yen a marre » et je vois des pneus et des voitures en feu dans les rues. Tous les jours, il y a des policiers/gendarmes dans les quartiers à risques. Bien évidemment, je ne m’aventure pas à l’extérieur lorsque le climat social est instable, donc le risque de danger pour moi est faible. À plusieurs reprises, j’ai été obligée de rester à la maison pour travailler en raison des violentes manifestations ou du manque de transport lié à des grèves des transporteurs protestant contre la hausse du prix du carburant.

Depuis le début de ces protestations, je me suis rendue compte que lorsqu’un pays vit des conflits ou lorsqu’il y a de violentes manifestations souvent reliées à des problèmes politiques, ce pays a beaucoup de difficultés à se développer pendant cette période. J’ai le privilège de vivre cette expérience enrichissante, d’où je réalise à quel point les problèmes politiques, les manifestations et les grèves ont de réelles répercussions à tous les niveaux.

Par exemple, lorsqu’il y a des réunions organisées, je dois tenir compte que les gens peuvent arriver très en retard ou même ne pas se présenter en raison des manifestations et des rues barrées. Vraiment, il y a un grand impact sur le mode de vie des gens, de même que sur le développement des activités/programmes des Organisations Non Gouvernementales (ONG) et des associations qui veulent lutter contre la pauvreté. À mon humble avis, certaines situations compromettent véritablement l’atteinte des Objectifs du Millénaire pour le Développement (OMD) d’ici 2015.

En plus, j’ai eu la chance d’assister à un atelier, organisé par le Réseau Siggil Jigéen en partenariat avec le programme UNITERRA, dans le cadre de l’élaboration de la première mouture du protocole pour le développement du Genre en Afrique de l’Ouest. Professionnellement, j’ai pu créer beaucoup de liens entre les discussions des invités et mes connaissances académiques acquises. J’ai réalisé qu’il est difficile d’élaborer un Protocole unique tout en travaillant avec plusieurs pays en même temps.

Au sujet de mon mandat, ce dernier consiste à élaborer un plan stratégique quinquennal (sur 5 ans) pour le Réseau Siggil Jigéen et à renforcer la gestion organisationnelle entre le Réseau et ses 16 associations et ONG. Ces activités me demandent beaucoup de réflexions et une grande adaptation culturelle. Par exemple, je dois prendre en compte les retards et les absences pendant les réunions. De plus, pour créer des outils organisationnels, je dois prendre en compte les besoins du Réseau et des associations et je dois évaluer la potentialité de certains outils de planification en raison des risques possibles (pannes électriques, manque de participation, disponibilité des équipements, etc).

Du côté de mon apprentissage personnel, je ne cesse de penser et d’analyser jour et nuit. J’ai décidé de me créer un « blog » sur mon expérience au Sénégal. En effet, je crois que le meilleur moyen d’apprendre, c’est d’écrire un journal intime en y inscrivant mes réflexions, mes opinions, mes sentiments, mes observations, etc. Une fois que mon voyage sera terminé, je pourrai faire une analyse plus approfondie. Aussi, je connais en moyenne 40 mots en Wolof, la langue locale du Sénégal. J’aime bien parler en Wolof,  car je ressens une meilleure réception et une approche plus positive de la part des Sénégalais. Aussi, cela permet de mieux m’intégrer culturellement.

En plus, j’ai vécu quelques chocs culturels pendant mon séjour au pays de la Teranga (hospitalité). Lorsque j’étais dans l’avion, je pouvais très bien distinguer, à l’œil nu, le degré du niveau de vie social des quartiers. Les quartiers riches et pauvres sont côtes à côtes et seule une rue principale les séparent. En descendant de l’avion, la chaleur m’a complètement déstabilisée. Pendant 5 jours, il a fait environ 34 degrés et normalement la température devait être de 25 degrés. Aussi, j’ai toujours un peu de difficulté à m’adapter à la poussière et la pollution dans l’air.

Les gens du Réseau Siggil Jigéen et du CECI au Sénégal m’ont très bien accueillie et ils m’appuient dans mon travail. L’Ambassade du Canada au Sénégal et le CECI avertissent les Canadiens lorsqu’il y a des rassemblements et nous mentionnent les endroits à éviter. D’ailleurs, je les remercie ! J’ai hâte de vous partager mes prochaines expériences !

Ba benene (À la prochaine)

Hello World,

One month already? They said time would fly, but I didn’t believe it would go this quickly. I am positioned in Northern India at an organization called Avani. Avani is focused on capacity building through the implementation of ‘green’ technologies. The adjustment period for me did not set in until recently because during the first week and a half of my stay my schedule was very unstructured. Since meeting with my supervisors, I have been given enough work to make up for the relaxing week. I have been assigned the task of working on Avani’s marketing and promotion via the Internet. I have created a Twitter page, updated the Facebook page on a daily basis, and am re-designing both the retail and main webpages. I will also be working on the National Geographic Action Atlas while I am here. For this project I am responsible for creating a project page for Avani’s ongoing work. This includes solar energy, natural dyeing, organic farming, and more.

I am starting to feel a lot more at ease since my arrival. I craved structure in the beginning so that I could fall into a daily rhythm. The days in the Himalayas often start beautifully, with the sun rising over the snowy mountain tops, temperatures warming ever so slowly. We help prepare food in the morning, while sipping our gingery chai. I retreat to my little office cubby to begin my daily work. The evenings are also lovely as I have now entered a nightly ritual of watching the sun go down, and talking with my fellow Indian interns. I have found this part of my day to be extremely important as it is at times difficult to eat, sleep, and work in the same place. By getting out once a day I can remove my thoughts and body from work, and simply enjoy the beautiful surroundings.

The days are going by fast now that I have fallen into a rhythm. I need to consciously remind myself to take more in, because although it still feels like I have a ton of time, I know when the end of March comes I’ll be wondering where it all went. I can only imagine how fast these next couple of weeks shall pass …

(introductory aside: the title of this entry comes from a Facebook group  for foreigners living in Dhaka, and is not really representative of the entry. I just find it really funny).

Oh, Dhaka. What is there to write about you that hasn’t been said countless times before? Any phrase I formulate in an attempt to sum up this city sounds trite and cliched. Dhaka cannot be summed up in a single phrase; a full page couldn’t cover it, and anything I write sounds like a cheesy Lonely Planet introduction (“We can’t guarantee you’ll fall for Dhaka’s many charms, but sooner or later you will start to move to its beat, and when that happens Dhaka stops being a terrifying ride and starts becoming a cauldron of art and intellect, passion and poverty, love and hate. Whatever happens, this is one fairground ride you’ll never forget”). Dhaka is a hard city to like, and an even harder city to live in. Dhaka is noisy –the sound of horns permeate the air constantly, especially on major roads. Cars do not signal, rickshaws cannot signal, buses with people spilling out of windows and doors swerve terrifyingly down the road, and 2-lane traffic easily becomes 4 or 5. And so the horns and bells ring constantly. Dhaka is dirty – litter lines the sides of the roads, fills the lakes, and hides in every corner. The air is heavy with dirt and dust, and sometimes I feel like I’m walking in a dreamy haze as I explore the city, albeit one in which I could be hit by a speeding car, rickshaw, or CNG at any moment. Other times, my throat aches after a late-night CNG ride, most of which is spent in an unmoving traffic jam, and I imagine it lined with dust and dirt.
Though CNG’s (which stand for the compressed natural gas that they run on) feel somewhat safer than rickshaws, my usual means of transportation, they also involve sitting in a loud, locked, rattling cage on wheels, and leave me at mouth-level with any exhaust pipes I happen to be fortunate enough to pull up beside and sit next to for 2-20 minutes. Dhaka is confusing, and sometimes scary; I don’t feel safe here, but whenever I tell that to a local person, they reply “YOU SHOULD.”

Dhaka is fascinating. It is colourful, and boisterous. Curious, and friendly. It is never boring, never quiet, and never dull, and I have never been so warmly welcomed to a place before in my life. On a visit to a nearby village, nearly everyone we met invited us into their homes, offered us food, handed us their babies, and cared for us as though we were family. I have  run out of money while grocery shopping in one of the city’s main markets, and had the vendor tell me “pay next time, I trust you.” My co-workers have quickly made me feel welcome, inviting me over for dinner and on trips to show me the rest of the country. People are so encouraging and proud of my elementary knowledge of the Bangla language that I feel like a child learning their first words whenever I speak it. My co-workers boast about my Bangla skills to people we meet, and have me say a few words to show me off, like a proud parent. I usually go with “Ami Bangla jani na” (I don’t know Bangla), which is always met with even MORE undeserved praise. It’s also a helpful line to use when men leer at me in the streets and markets, and use the bits of English they know to try to
start a conversation, or ask for my phone number or ‘Facebook ID’ - except I go with “Ami English jani na.”

My internship is with ICDDR,B (the International Centre for Diarrhoeal Disease Research, Bangladesh), and I love it. I am working on a small part of a big project that is seeking to examine health-seeking habits of the urban poor and health care facilities available to them, in 7 slums across the city. Every day I learn
something new, as I participate in stakeholder analysis, literature reviews, focus groups and field visits. I’m lucky that I enjoy my work; being in an office for 40 hours a week while my friends are out exploring the city and travelling the country would otherwise be a discouraging experience, and though I do enjoy it, it’s been a hard adjustment (oh student/ barista life, how I miss your flexibility and lazy days!).

With each passing day, life in Dhaka gets a little bit easier. I am renting an apartment with two friends, and we are slowly learning how to live here (this includes being bed-ridden with illness my second weekend here, moving into a filthy apartment, but feeling mostly gratitude that we finally found one landlord in a city of 150 million who was willing to rent to 3 foreign women, as well as boiling every bit of water that runs from the taps before using it, dealing with a creepy caretaker who rings our doorbell incessantly
despite our pointed avoidance of him, and navigating the bustling nearby market every day to buy our groceries, where we playfully bargain with vendors, who in turn playfully rip us off). This is a city you have to work to like. Some days, I am so pleased to be here I can’t imagine being anywhere else, and make grand life plans that have me living here in a few years time and somehow suddenly being incredibly qualified, experienced and useful to an organization like ICDDR,B, (to which I will realistically never be able to offer any skills more valuable than someone here already can). Other days, I indulge myself with daydreams of being on the next flight back to Ottawa, where the streets are clean, the sidewalks aren’t ridden with
potholes, and I can take a leisurely stroll with almost no fear of being run over by a speeding car, blaring it’s horn at me and driving down the wrong side of the road, leaving me to jump back into a family of 5 on the back of a 3 wheel rickshaw, or a pile of cow crap, or a person begging for money, laying next to the street and looking at my imploringly.

My experience in Dhaka is, of course, in no way representative of what life is like for the majority of the population here. I live in a position of incredible privilege in the city, while more than half of the population lives on less than $2 a day. Navigating this city while steeped in such privilege comes with many dilemmas, and much discomfort and guilt, and I am often at a loss as to how to deal with it properly. Maybe there really isn’t a proper way. I am trying to be kind and generous, but nothing I can offer is enough, and it’s hard not to get discouraged. This is especially difficult for me when it comes to street children; refusing money to a child living in poverty is a horrible, horrible feeling, however I am constantly warned never to give money, as many people believe that the children work for brokers of some type who make a business of sending children out to collect money, and treat the kids horribly. Most often, I hand out food I’m carrying in my bag, or take them to the nearest shop and let them pick a treat. Sometimes, though, I’m exhausted, uncomfortable, hot and dehydrated (probably exactly how they are feeling too), and I walk right past them. It’s disheartening to realize how quickly something – or someone – no matter how upsetting, can become more part of the scenery with every passing day. Despite all of this, things are going
rather well, and I generally enjoy the challenges and adventures I face most days. And if I do have a bad day, I am fortunate enough to come home to a bottle of clean water to quench my thirst, a fridge full of food (ok, mostly mango juice and chocolate) to fill my stomach, 4 locks on my door to keep out my creepy caretaker, and HBO on my TV to numb my brain. Oh, Dhaka. You’re not so bad after all.

Is it slightly worrisome that I have slept through two mini-earthquakes since my arrival? In any case, I am sad to have to have left the amazing Ottawa winter weather just over four weeks ago to find my way to Lima, Perú, where I must endure on a daily basis the gruesome summer surfing weather!

Peru, unfortunately, has the bad reputation of having some of the highest rates of theft in Latin America and since my arrival in Lima the good people at World University Service of Canada have sought to instill in all of the volunteers a sense of awareness of this fact. Much of this legitimate and sometimes overemphasized paranoia towards robbery and violence derives from a history that has left the country divided along socio-economic lines and culturally scarred.

The demographic movements of the Peruvian population away from the jungle and highlands regions towards the coastal cities in the past fifty odd years are due, in part, to many “pull factors” such as access to employment, services, education and the promise of a ‘better life’, as well as various “push factors’’ such as the loss of farming land, natural disasters and most recently and importantly the advent of the self-proclaimed “Marxist-Leninist-Maoist-Gonzalo thought” terrorist group called the ‘Shining Path’. This revolutionary organization, which was founded by its ideological leader Abimael Guzmán and originated in the Ayacucho region in the early seventies, began its revolution in the Peruvian countryside by brutally attacking peasants, trade union organizers and popularly elected officials. Once the State and the military reacted and became involved in repressing this insurgent organization (unfortunately, this also meant indiscriminate attacks on peasant groups as well) the Shining Path’s guerilla tactics began to be employed more directly in the city, such as with various car-bombs in Lima. All this to say, that for over two decades the Peruvian population was subject to both terrorist and state violence, which has left the Peruvian society acutely aware of the more violent nature of mankind. One of my roommates here in Lima is a photojournalist that was present during this period and has been keen to introduce me to the topic and exhibit her amazing body of work that she is currently compiling for a book.

Since the capture of Guzmán in the early nineties and the eventual disintegration of the Shining Path, there has been a significant shift towards modernization and globalized capitalism in Peru. This is quite visible in Lima where every three blocks I can find a Scotiabank and the main avenues are littered with casinos, Chilis/KFC/McD restaurants.

Returning a little to the demographics of Peru – Lima is a megalopolis of over 8 million residents and is where over 30% of all Peruvians call home. Due to the previously mentioned push and pull factors as well as the era of terrorism that is estimated to have dislocated at least 30,000 people from the countryside to the cities of Ica and Lima, the urban growth of the city of Lima swelled well beyond any possible central planning. This, in effect, created various squatter-slum cities, or referred to here as “asentamientos humanos” (human settlements), on the hills and mountains on the outskirts of Lima city that housed these migrant populations. However, the propensity of these populations to organize and create voluntary organizations became an outstanding example of how, even without legitimate government funds, over time, these highly organized squatter settlements became legitimate political districts within the Province of Lima, with their own elected officials.

My NGO, “Acción Por Los Niños”, founded in 1998, has sought to protect Peruvian children and adolescents from the culture of violence and abuse that developed within Peru over various dictatorships and an era of terrorism. It also seeks to construct a culture of “childhood” within Peruvian society, which they believe has been absent and forces children into the workforce at a young age.  Through a multipronged approach to achieving “Children’s Rights”, my organization lobbies and assists the national and local governments to compose, implement, improve and enforce policies and laws that protect the rights of Peruvian children, with a specific focus on eliminating violence and sexual  abuse. Acción Por Los Niños also works closely with schools, churches, civil society and these well-organized community organizations to ensure coordination, full participation and implementation of these policies and laws.

So as to not cast the net too widely, my organization focuses its programs and projects in five ‘slum’ districts in Lima Sur (Southern Lima) where the situation for children is considered direst. While most of my work has been in an office environment that is not too different than an NGO experience in Canada (Microsoft Office tasks, website and newsletter design, topic research etc.), I have had several opportunities to follow my colleagues to meetings and events in the various districts in Lima Sur to get a firsthand experience of how my organization actually indirectly promotes and protects the rights of children.

Last week I attended an important ceremony in Villa María del Triunfo, one of our districts of operations, which brought together all of the mayors of the districts in Lima Sur as well as dozens of regional civil society organizations, student organizations and schools to the signing of the “Declaration of Principles for Education in Southern Lima” and the “Constitution of the Local Participatory Council for Education”. This event marked an important moment for these districts, as much of their efforts towards education have historically been disjointed, uncoordinated and duplicated. Our organization assisted, in part, in the culmination of this event and welcomed greater coordination of these districts as the mayors also assured that this would mark further promotion, awareness and celebration of the rights of children and adolescents in Lima Sur.

Finally, one of the moments that marked me during this event was when the Mayor of San Juan de Miraflores said that “there will never be change without a change in attitude… this goes for parents too, who must assume the responsibility of teaching their children, the duty isn’t only that of the teachers in the school”. His overall speech had made me realize the extent that violence towards children has become pervasive and ingrained within Peruvian society and how the parents had to become conscious of their role in passing along the good and bad elements of their knowledge and actions. It also helped me appreciate the significant challenge of implementing the rights of children that my organization has been striving to achieve in Peru over past 14 years.

While I could keep going, I will leave it at that for today. Hasta la próxima vez!

As I reflect over my first month here in the Cape, I am amazed at the changes that I have lived. I must admit that upon arriving here in Cape Town I fell under culture shock much quicker and harder then I originally thought I would. The disparities of the Mother City are so blatantly apparent, for example when we first arrived and were driving out of the airport, on the one side of the highway there were nice big houses, similar to the ones at home, but on the other side, there were rows upon rows of townships, little tin housing were people barely have clean water. It was unbelievable to me that these disparities could exist so close to one another.

During my first couple of weeks, I kept focusing on all the poverty and all the different ways of doing things here compared to back home. The transportation was different, mini bus drivers yell at you when you are walking. safety is much more of an issue, you always need to be aware of your surroundings. Communication is also different (I am very used to my unlimited internet and sms texts). I was under the dark cloud of culture shock. But eventually I told myself to open up, embrace this experience. I was essentially judging the book of Cape Town by its cover, by my first impression. Once I was able to let go of comparing and embrace this new culture and way of life, I found that I was MUCH happier. I took the mini bus taxis and I actually like this method of travel. I have become accustom to the extra precautions one must take to get around and have a good time!

My placement is a Saartjie Baartman Center for abused women and children. So far I have spent most of my time in the creche with the younger kids (although there are not many at the moment). My other responsibilities include preparing and facilitating workshops for the women and homework assistance for the school going children. Although these are my main tasks, a day at work is anything but regular. You never know what you will be doing or what you won’t have time to do.

I am looking forward to my next couple of months here and hope they are filled with adventures and interesting stories.

Namaste! It has now been 3 weeks since I arrived in India and I am starting to relax into my surroundings. My experience here thus far has been a rewarding challenge: I have exited my comfort zone in many ways, but continue to learn in the process. I will be doing my internship at an organization called Seva Mandir, which means “service to the temple”, based in Udaipur, Rajasthan. Seva Mandir is a well organized and impressive organization, working in 7 different sectors, including education, health, natural resource development, and women and children, and reaching over 600 villages. I have been assigned a research project looking at the rate of birth registration in the rural areas around Udaipur, Rajasthan, India and examining the reasons why parents choose to register or not register their children. This project will utilize basically every research skill I have been taught in school, including creating a survey, piloting the survey, conducting interviews, coding and data entry, data analysis, and report writing. This is truly a chance to practice, learning and test knowledge! Yesterday was my first time out in the field with a fellow University of Ottawa student and intern, Sara, and it was exciting – we piloted our survey with various health workers and families in a rural village, adding additional questions and tailoring our questions as we went along. We got a wealth of information and discovered so much about Seva Mandir, rural India, and birth registration. It is now time to review the information that we gathered and go back to the drawing board to make sure that we have all the necessary questions on our survey. It is incredibly interesting to put into practice what I’ve been reading about in school and gain this amazing experience in how to conduct research which will surely be an asset when I go on to do my masters. It’s also incredibly interesting to see how perspectives differ between people even from the same village and to have the chance to spend time with people that are from such different walks of life.

Perhaps one of the most perplexing observations of my trip thus far has been how different and yet similar everything is between India and Canada. I have met so many warm, generous people here in India and I feel that there is so much commonality among all people, yet there are drastic material differences when compared to Canada. Poverty here is much more visible among all segments of society and not as well hidden as it is in Canada. Simultaneously, cell reception is drastically better in India in comparison: during our fieldwork in a remote area, there was perfect cell reception, where there wouldn’t have been any reception in a comparably remote location in Canada. The differences in attitudes, mindsets, livelihoods, and material objects between India and Canada continue to amaze me, both positively and sometimes negatively. There are positive and negative aspects to all places and things and I feel it is important to remain critical of the structures and systems in place at various scales while not becoming pessimistic or disillusioned with the context you are surrounded by. This internship is such an amazing experience to witness diversity, culture, development, and the many varying realities faced by Indians. I am reminded of the video we watched in our pre-departure training by a Nigerian novelist about the multiple stories and truths that exist in every country each time I walk out my door.

Xin Chao!

Chuc mung nam moi! Or, in english, happy new year! According to Vietnam’s Lunar calendar, January 23rd marked the beginning of 2012: the year of the dragon. As I arrived in Vietnam three weeks ago, I had the pleasure of taking part in many Tet holiday traditions and getting a deeper insight into Vietnam’s culture. Not to mention the rare chance to ring in 2012 for a second time! As I’m working in the countryside of Hanoi, it was even more crowded then usual. Workers from the city during this time return back to their homeland to spend time with their loved ones. The centre, by contrast, was eerily quiet. Consequently, exploring by foot or motorbike was much more convenient!

It was extremely obvious during this time just how much of Vietnamese society is oriented around the family. On new years day families will walk around to all their friends and relatives’ homes in the neighbourhood, drinking tea, eating treats, and toasting to good health.My host family was kind enough to introduce me to their extremely big (as in numerically, not physically by any means!) extended family who have all welcomed me with open arms, and even sometimes with “lucky money” offered in decorative red envelops. I also got a first hand look and taste of the Tet “drinking culture” that we were given a “heads up” about during our orientation. I think it will be the first and last time I drink red wine before 10 am on a Monday…Tet is also extremely festive. Families will purchase large kumquat and peach blossom trees to place in their homes and decorate like Christmas trees with many flamboyant ornaments. It’s been amazing watching people cart away these massive plants on their motorbikes (the preferred and most common method of transportation).

Now that all the Tet craziness has calmed, work has resumed and today signifies not only my third week in Vietnam but my first day at work, in the new year, in our new office! My placement is in the Student Services Department at the North Thang Long Economic-Technical College, in Dong Anh, just on the outskirts of Hanoi. The college offers training and employment for students according to market needs in order to ensure a stable livelihood and income for graduates. I am mostly responsible for soft skills training, assisting with english classes, and helping to sustain the college’s (relatively new) counselling service. All these aspects of the mandate are generally geared towards providing a competitive advantage to the students when they enter the labor market, and improving their overall welfare. I’m excited to get going on all my tasks, in partnership with the staff and students! Wishing you all a happy, healthy, and wealthy new year!

Allie

Namaste!

Je suis arrivée dans les montagnes du Nord de l’Inde il y a un peu plus de deux semaines.  La vie ici est radicalement différente de Delhi. Bien que la pauvreté soit un problème autant à la ville qu’à la campagne, les possibilités d’emploi sont nettement réduites dans cette région. Les pratiques traditionnelles qui valorisent le rôle des femmes dans la société kumaoni sont laissées de côté pour des produits fabriqués industriellement qui sont beaucoup moins coûteux. Ainsi, la mondialisation, comme partout ailleurs, apporte son lot de problèmes quant au développement des régions rurales. La migration vers les villes demeure l’enjeu central qui provoque une trop grande offre de main-d’oeuvre alors que la demande est mince, perpétuant la pauvreté et l’exploitation. Les solutions à la pauvreté passant par l’urbanisation ne sont donc pas profitables de façon équitable, ni durables dans le temps.

C’est dans cet optique qu’Avani, l’organisme pour lequel je fais du travail bénévole, travaille fort pour créer des moyens de subsistance qui reconnaissent le savoir local traditionnel et qui protège les écosystèmes magnifiques de la région des himalaya centrales. Cela donne un mélange de technologies vertes tels panneaux solaires, gazéifieur d’aiguilles de pin et recyclage d’eau. Également, Avani comprend tout un secteur textile équitable, fait à la main, utilisant des agents colorants naturels tels le curcuma. Plus récemment, il y a eu instauration d’une maternelle et de formations sur la santé. Avec cette vision holiste et englobante du développement, la dynamique au campus central est vraiment spéciale. Plusieurs familles, étudiants et voyageurs vivent en communauté ensemble et participent aux tâches journalières à accomplir. Les castes sociales de l’Inde dont j’ai tant entendu parler semblent se dissiper avec cette atmosphère de camaraderie et d’entraide. Ce n’est pas pour rien que l’organisme se nomme Avani, nom qui veut dire «Terre» en sanskrit. Jusqu’à présent, avec tout ce que je vois ici, Avani me redonne une vision positive du développement qui avait été assombrie par le cynisme académique au sujet de la mondialisation.

Mon travail à Avani consistera à aider à la rédaction d’un plan de commercialisation pour les nouveaux crayons et peintures faits de pigments naturels. Je devrai également aider à l’élaboration d’une liste de commandes et faire la promotion des produits. Vu que j’ai eu une formation musicale, j’enseignerai des chansons et certains principes de base de musique aux enfants à la petit école sur le campus. J’ai aussi comme but d’apprendre le plus de hindi possible. J’enseignerai donc aussi l’anglais à certains employés ici et en retour ils m’apprendront un peu de hindi. Une autre tâche sera de faire un inventaire complet des produits offerts à Avani. Ceci se fera en équipe avec Brittany, une autre stagiaire de l’Université d’Ottawa ici avec moi. Mes tâches semblent encore très vagues et  peu définies, ce qui m’empêche de travailler de façon efficace. Je suis certaine qu’avec le temps les choses rentreront dans l’ordre.

Je ne pense pas que j’apporterai beaucoup à cet organisme qui est déjà bien instauré, mais j’espère tout de même donner un bon coup de pouce. Cette expérience n’est pas faite pour changer la vie des gens de la région et pour apporter le «développement» tant attendu, mais bien pour que ceux-ci, par leur simplicité et leur holisme rempli de vérité, influencent la mienne.