Howdy y’all (see I learnt something this year)
Have been having a fine time living in Brooklyn and working at a charter school network in Newark. It has been in the words of our top middle school student “fierce”.
How so I hear you cry?
Well imagine its 7-30 am on your first day of work and you are welcomed by the beat of a drum calling students to order.
As you struggle to get your bearings the headmaster leads 180 kids in the following chant as ear splitting volume.
Who are you?
A star who shines brightly for others.
Why are you here?
To get an education
What will you have to do?
Work hard,
Work, work, work, hard
And what else?
Take care of each other
What will you need?
Self-discipline
Why?
To be the master of my own destiny
What else?
Respect for myself, my peers, teachers and all people
Where are you headed?
To college!!!
What will you do when you get there?
Succeed and then give back to others.
What are we?
A community.
All very striking as a spectacle – particularly for a career office bureaucrat like me. Until that is you see later that morning the stats of the community in which this school is working: 2 in 100 on average graduate a four-year college. At which point making eleven year olds chant this takes on considerably more significance.
It’s all part of a deliberate strategy of raising aspiration both among students and faculty. Each class is named after a institution of higher learning- even in the elementary school. Kindergarteners are called scholars and gather each Monday morning around a banner declaring “class of 2020”.
Aside from that two other distinctive features mark the school: strict discipline and data driven instruction. Students wear uniform, file to class in orderly lines, and make public apologies. The school tests every 6-8 weeks and uses very nuanced analysis of the results to shape lesson planning.
Driving all this is a set of leaders as dynamic and focused as any entrepreneurs that I have encountered. They see closing the attainment gap as the civil rights cause of their generation and they have given 10 years of their lives to addressing it.
While some may find their zeal and methods a bit unsettling the results are hard to disagree with. Northstar Academy is the best performing urban public school in the state. It has 100 per cent of its graduating high school class going to a 4 year college. All from an intake selected by lottery and (joy to Treasury ears) with less per pupil funding than regular public schools in Newark.
And yet.and yet…. Five weeks in a range of questions are bugging me. How scaleable is this? Would these leaders have had more impact if they had turned their talents to an existing public school? Does it make sense from a system wide perspective?
But I’m only half way through so I’m supposed to be confused at this point. Mmm… maybe I can find some enlightenment in a pint of Brooklyn lager.
For more info on uncommon schools check out
http://www.uncommonschools.org/usi/aboutUs/USIVideo.html
(includes five year old chanting the Rutgers football song)
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Friday, June 27, 2008
Don´t Be Afraid to Ask
I have come to realize that Nicas are very talkative and quite curious. I don't think I have ever been asked the following things by people only two weeks after I'd first met them. Thus, I have decided to keep a list of "blunt" questions to see how many I have by the end of the summer. My favorites so far:
1. Are you agnostic?
2. Have you ever forgiven somebody cheating on you?
3. How many boyfriends have you had?
4. Are you a socialist? (this coming from someone twice my age after finding out that I´m from Bulgaria)
5. Are you a jealous person? (here, jealousy appears to be a personal trait not a temporary state)
Mind you, I got asked most of these questions when I wasn´t even directly involved in a conversation on the topic.
-denitza
1. Are you agnostic?
2. Have you ever forgiven somebody cheating on you?
3. How many boyfriends have you had?
4. Are you a socialist? (this coming from someone twice my age after finding out that I´m from Bulgaria)
5. Are you a jealous person? (here, jealousy appears to be a personal trait not a temporary state)
Mind you, I got asked most of these questions when I wasn´t even directly involved in a conversation on the topic.
-denitza
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
the news from Belfast: cold, rain, and the gift of a Mighty Bush
Greetings, friends.
I would also like to join Will's Luddite support group. This summer has introduced me to new technology-assisted activities - such as blogging, Facebook, and shaving - with which I am not entirely comfortable.
Nonetheless, it is wonderful to read your interesting posts about the Great Woo Summer and to learn many valuable lessons, most notably: 1) I'd rather work anywhere in Kansas City than at the U.N. and 2) not to travel on the policy workshop with Tom, the apparent love child of Zeus and Poseidon.
Life is good in Belfast, despite all the pasty white people, a lack of Ingrid, and my abject poverty on the pound sterling. I now weigh 113 pounds. Excuse me, 51 kilograms. When I have the energy, I work.
The daily tasks of diplomacy are presumably quite different in Northern Ireland than they are in the more exotic locales of most other State Department Woo interns. This is, after all, a wee, wet semi-autonomous land whose importance to the U.S. derives more from its tragic history, fragile peace, and ancestral ties than any strategic maneuvering that can be done within the confines of its small population or territory. Hence, the political work of the Consulate largely inheres in navigating the complicated dynamics of Stormont and trying to ensure - behind the scenes - that the antagonistic forces within and between unionism and nationalism are mollified. Encouraging foreign direct investment into Northern Ireland is also important, because prosperity and jobs are seen as the greatest bulwarks against future violence.
Until this week, however, my time in Belfast was not routine. Upon my arrival, I was informed that President Bush would be coming to Northern Ireland, ostensibly to extol a peace process that was solidified with the formation of a devolved power-sharing government just over one year ago. I was thus presented with a rare opportunity to see how a presidential visit works, from the art of avoiding protestors to the joy of interacting with White House staff - 95% of whom had endearing Southern accents.
As a taxpayer (barely), it was instructive to witness the incredible time and resources that are invested to ensure a safe and flawless trip. Weeks before the June 16th visit, dozens of advance staff from Embassy London, the White House, and the Secret Service had already arrived. Two prominent hotels provided temporary housing and an entire floor of one was altered beyond recognition to become a secure area, guarded by Marines. Countdown meetings were staged every night to scrutinize the details of arrival and departure, staging of the motorcade, and the movements of principals and press at each site visit. By last Monday, hundreds of support staff were in Belfast - all for a three hour tour that registered minimal press coverage outside of the United Kingdom and Ireland.
Of course, the meeting between the President, UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown, Irish Taoiseach (which basically means Prime Minister in the Irish language) Brian Cowen, and the new leaders of the Northern Ireland government was the most substantive component of the visit. It was also the most sensitive, because nationalists and unionists do not agree on who should have sovereignty over Northern Ireland or a voice in its affairs, and therefore who should be entitled to a seat at the table.
The President and First Lady also toured a local integrated school, an exception here as over 90% of schools are still, for all intents and purposes, divided along religious lines. There the President participated in drills for PeacePlayers International, which organizes non-sectarian basketball teams in recovering societies. Much to the delight of the local media, he missed four shots. The President also bought a plant grown by the schoolchildren, which they had dubbed "the Mighty Bush."
Bush hoops it up
I had the privilege to work at the Royal Air Force base where the President would arrive and depart. It was a surreal experience to be at Air Force One - a blery big plane, by the way - as the President left Europe for the last time in office. The best moment, however, occurred upon his arrival. Gordon Brown, an awkward politician who makes even W. seem relatively popular, greeted the President - and was instantly dismayed and confused by Bush's "hip-hop handshake."
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/2143451/Gordon-Brown-thrown-by-George-Bush
Presidential visits aside, the most rewarding aspects of being in Northern Ireland supersede work and derive from having an opportunity to uncover the troubled dynamics of a place I have always wanted to understand. Unfortunately, while the impressive political and economic achievements of the past ten years appear durable, this remains a very divided society where physical walls and mental barriers will continue to demarcate communities.
I would also like to join Will's Luddite support group. This summer has introduced me to new technology-assisted activities - such as blogging, Facebook, and shaving - with which I am not entirely comfortable.
Nonetheless, it is wonderful to read your interesting posts about the Great Woo Summer and to learn many valuable lessons, most notably: 1) I'd rather work anywhere in Kansas City than at the U.N. and 2) not to travel on the policy workshop with Tom, the apparent love child of Zeus and Poseidon.
Life is good in Belfast, despite all the pasty white people, a lack of Ingrid, and my abject poverty on the pound sterling. I now weigh 113 pounds. Excuse me, 51 kilograms. When I have the energy, I work.
The daily tasks of diplomacy are presumably quite different in Northern Ireland than they are in the more exotic locales of most other State Department Woo interns. This is, after all, a wee, wet semi-autonomous land whose importance to the U.S. derives more from its tragic history, fragile peace, and ancestral ties than any strategic maneuvering that can be done within the confines of its small population or territory. Hence, the political work of the Consulate largely inheres in navigating the complicated dynamics of Stormont and trying to ensure - behind the scenes - that the antagonistic forces within and between unionism and nationalism are mollified. Encouraging foreign direct investment into Northern Ireland is also important, because prosperity and jobs are seen as the greatest bulwarks against future violence.
Until this week, however, my time in Belfast was not routine. Upon my arrival, I was informed that President Bush would be coming to Northern Ireland, ostensibly to extol a peace process that was solidified with the formation of a devolved power-sharing government just over one year ago. I was thus presented with a rare opportunity to see how a presidential visit works, from the art of avoiding protestors to the joy of interacting with White House staff - 95% of whom had endearing Southern accents.
As a taxpayer (barely), it was instructive to witness the incredible time and resources that are invested to ensure a safe and flawless trip. Weeks before the June 16th visit, dozens of advance staff from Embassy London, the White House, and the Secret Service had already arrived. Two prominent hotels provided temporary housing and an entire floor of one was altered beyond recognition to become a secure area, guarded by Marines. Countdown meetings were staged every night to scrutinize the details of arrival and departure, staging of the motorcade, and the movements of principals and press at each site visit. By last Monday, hundreds of support staff were in Belfast - all for a three hour tour that registered minimal press coverage outside of the United Kingdom and Ireland.
Of course, the meeting between the President, UK Prime Minister Gordon Brown, Irish Taoiseach (which basically means Prime Minister in the Irish language) Brian Cowen, and the new leaders of the Northern Ireland government was the most substantive component of the visit. It was also the most sensitive, because nationalists and unionists do not agree on who should have sovereignty over Northern Ireland or a voice in its affairs, and therefore who should be entitled to a seat at the table.
The President and First Lady also toured a local integrated school, an exception here as over 90% of schools are still, for all intents and purposes, divided along religious lines. There the President participated in drills for PeacePlayers International, which organizes non-sectarian basketball teams in recovering societies. Much to the delight of the local media, he missed four shots. The President also bought a plant grown by the schoolchildren, which they had dubbed "the Mighty Bush."
Bush hoops it up
I had the privilege to work at the Royal Air Force base where the President would arrive and depart. It was a surreal experience to be at Air Force One - a blery big plane, by the way - as the President left Europe for the last time in office. The best moment, however, occurred upon his arrival. Gordon Brown, an awkward politician who makes even W. seem relatively popular, greeted the President - and was instantly dismayed and confused by Bush's "hip-hop handshake."
http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/newstopics/howaboutthat/2143451/Gordon-Brown-thrown-by-George-Bush
Presidential visits aside, the most rewarding aspects of being in Northern Ireland supersede work and derive from having an opportunity to uncover the troubled dynamics of a place I have always wanted to understand. Unfortunately, while the impressive political and economic achievements of the past ten years appear durable, this remains a very divided society where physical walls and mental barriers will continue to demarcate communities.
Murder Mystery - for all the deep thinkers amongst us
Hey. Hope all is well. I thought you would appreciate this article on rising crime in American cities. It refers to post housing-projects programs and housing vouchers, precisely the sort of thing we did for 501. Interesting side effect: rising crime in American suburbia as a result of relocation of gang members with housing vouchers. Perhaps a small price to pay for an overall good program?
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/memphis-crime
http://www.theatlantic.com/doc/200807/memphis-crime
Monday, June 23, 2008
Little pig, little pig, let me in
So while building houses out of straw bales would seem a little more apropos to those Woos in far-flung parts of the world, Clare and I tried it out this past Saturday, just a stone's throw from the Capitol. The Environmental and Energy Study Institute (www.eesi.org) organized a Congressional Hearing led by leaders in the sustainable building field, followed the next day by a hands-on workshop. For those of you not familiar with the process, and concerned with how you're going to get a house without an ARM, it goes a little something like this:
1. Measure out the bale length you need and if necessary, divide the bale up into two separate bales using a large bale needles and twine, as modeled by Clare:
2. Shave down the ends of the bale to right angles using what looks like an oversized cheese grater (or powered grinder...which they wouldn't let me use...good call) so that the bales fit well together
3. Stack the bales together in a frame, and compress them together using the frame or compression strapping.
4. Cover the interior and exterior faces in slip (watered down clay) to hold straw together and allow to dry. Slip allows comes in handy as a sunscreen, as I model below.
5. Apply plaster (clay, sand, water, chopped straw) and smooth with trowel. Special instructions for those under the age of 8: a. Throw clay at wall b. Become bored with trowel and c. Throw clay at strange man with beard.
6. Allow to dry and await failed US foreign policy (concocted in 501 memo) to bring poverty and strife to your home. Rinse and repeat.
Unfortunately, since only Clare and I were the workhorses on this one (others stepped in from time to time), we didn't get as far as the folks had hoped. I'm pretty sure a Big Bad Wolf could take this one down pretty quick, regardless of the hair on my chinny chin chin:
Lessons from Nicaragua
As I head towards the end of my second week in Nicaragua, I try to summarize what I have learned about the locals and their culture so far:
1. It´s OK to be a single mom with two or more kids at 23 but it´s not OK not to be (or not to have been) married at 29. People react with surprise at the latter but find the former a pretty regular thing.
2. Nicas´ favorite piece of clothing is jeans. Even in the hottest of days, you will see most people (including women) wearing jeans. And shorts are unheard of, except of course among “cheles” (the term used by Nicas to refer to whites).
3. Nicas are in love with American culture – from baseball to hip hop to English names. I never expected to meet so many Judiths, Williams, Jennys, Marjories, Leonards, and Lisettes here.
4. Unless you are craving male attention, it´s better to tell Nica men that you are married. It´s usually one of the first things they ask after inquiring about age. Boyfriends, fiances, etc. are not an adequate reason for stopping their advances. I have gotten this advice from several women already, so I think I may actually take heed.
5. People here love to dance. And, I mean, really love to dance (usually to reggaetón, salsa, merengue, bachata). Last Friday, the office was celebrating it´s second anniversary. Along with lots of food and drink (starting at 2 pm), the festivities included a talent show and lots of dancing. Nothing could stop my 49-yr old supervisor and the rest of the management from taking over the dance floor.
6. Flor de Caña (the pride of Nicaragua) is the best rum I have ever tasted.
And aside from that, I thought you might find the following article interesting. Some of you may have heard or read about the LifeStraw – a simple, easy-to-use device for purifying water. Here is the story of its inception. A very smart idea.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB121372818319181665.html?mod=loomia&loomia_si=t0:a31:g2:r4:c0.192655
-denitza
1. It´s OK to be a single mom with two or more kids at 23 but it´s not OK not to be (or not to have been) married at 29. People react with surprise at the latter but find the former a pretty regular thing.
2. Nicas´ favorite piece of clothing is jeans. Even in the hottest of days, you will see most people (including women) wearing jeans. And shorts are unheard of, except of course among “cheles” (the term used by Nicas to refer to whites).
3. Nicas are in love with American culture – from baseball to hip hop to English names. I never expected to meet so many Judiths, Williams, Jennys, Marjories, Leonards, and Lisettes here.
4. Unless you are craving male attention, it´s better to tell Nica men that you are married. It´s usually one of the first things they ask after inquiring about age. Boyfriends, fiances, etc. are not an adequate reason for stopping their advances. I have gotten this advice from several women already, so I think I may actually take heed.
5. People here love to dance. And, I mean, really love to dance (usually to reggaetón, salsa, merengue, bachata). Last Friday, the office was celebrating it´s second anniversary. Along with lots of food and drink (starting at 2 pm), the festivities included a talent show and lots of dancing. Nothing could stop my 49-yr old supervisor and the rest of the management from taking over the dance floor.
6. Flor de Caña (the pride of Nicaragua) is the best rum I have ever tasted.
And aside from that, I thought you might find the following article interesting. Some of you may have heard or read about the LifeStraw – a simple, easy-to-use device for purifying water. Here is the story of its inception. A very smart idea.
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB121372818319181665.html?mod=loomia&loomia_si=t0:a31:g2:r4:c0.192655
-denitza
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Rock You Like a Hurricane
Sometimes when the Pickerings get together, we play a little game called “What would you be doing if you didn't get the Pickering?” The answers vary quite a bit. I’ve answered everything from investment banking to selling jewelry, from graduate school to writing greeting cards for Hallmark.
The next time I’m asked that question, I’ll know exactly what to say: If it wasn’t for the Pickering, I’d be a weatherman. The forecast? Severe weather everywhere I go.
Yesterday, Typhoon Fengshen hit the eastern islands of the Philippines. It turned north and swept toward Taiwan this morning. My aparment lost power sometime in the night. I woke up at 7:00 AM to torrential rain, a charcoal-gray sky, and winds thrashing the huge trees outside my window.
The power and wireless internet are back, and it appears that the worst of the storm is over. I ventured out to the grocery store this morning and made it back with mangos. The roads are pretty flooded and littered with tree branches. On one major road, a fence in the median had blown into traffic. Still, Manila missed the worst of it.
All these tornados, 500 year floods, and hurricanes in the past month have made me think more about the future and the need to be prepared for it. Therefore I, Tom Niblock, in sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath, upon my expiration, the following possessions:
To Liam, one Adidas Army Sports backpack (sorry Judy).
To Asher, one plastic chicken that lays gumballs.
To Benny, one old TV that might work and one fridge that probably worked before I moved it out of Lisa and Sarah’s room.
To Jonathon Kent, all my Iowa Hawkeye t-shirts and sweatshirts.
To Clare, Darren, Ed, and Scott, my copy of China: The Fragile Superpower.
And to Jack, this music video.
It's early morning/The sun comes out/Last night was shaking/And pretty loud
My cat is purring/And scratches my skin/So what is wrong/With another sin…
-Rock You Like a Hurricane, The Scorpions, 1984
The next time I’m asked that question, I’ll know exactly what to say: If it wasn’t for the Pickering, I’d be a weatherman. The forecast? Severe weather everywhere I go.
Yesterday, Typhoon Fengshen hit the eastern islands of the Philippines. It turned north and swept toward Taiwan this morning. My aparment lost power sometime in the night. I woke up at 7:00 AM to torrential rain, a charcoal-gray sky, and winds thrashing the huge trees outside my window.
The power and wireless internet are back, and it appears that the worst of the storm is over. I ventured out to the grocery store this morning and made it back with mangos. The roads are pretty flooded and littered with tree branches. On one major road, a fence in the median had blown into traffic. Still, Manila missed the worst of it.
All these tornados, 500 year floods, and hurricanes in the past month have made me think more about the future and the need to be prepared for it. Therefore I, Tom Niblock, in sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath, upon my expiration, the following possessions:
To Liam, one Adidas Army Sports backpack (sorry Judy).
To Asher, one plastic chicken that lays gumballs.
To Benny, one old TV that might work and one fridge that probably worked before I moved it out of Lisa and Sarah’s room.
To Jonathon Kent, all my Iowa Hawkeye t-shirts and sweatshirts.
To Clare, Darren, Ed, and Scott, my copy of China: The Fragile Superpower.
And to Jack, this music video.
It's early morning/The sun comes out/Last night was shaking/And pretty loud
My cat is purring/And scratches my skin/So what is wrong/With another sin…
-Rock You Like a Hurricane, The Scorpions, 1984
Royal Lessons
Marked on a map by 4 intersecting waterways (and usually by a star symbol), Phnom Penh is unlike any other city I've ever been to--I think that's why I've done so much real-life "learning" in the course of 13 days (more on that below). As my workload increases (focusing on human rights, CT, and the justice system) and my expat social circle widens, I've become much more receptive to the impromptu eccentricities, meetings, meals, and events here. And I've already made an impression on the local Phnom Penh "movers and shakers"--one such businessman gave me a compliment (I think) this morning by saying that I really, really resemble one noteworthy American politician: Mr. John Kerry.***
On to my list of lessons learned:
Hoping everyone has a safe, unpredictable, and productive summer. I'll try to do my part. -bp
***This description by a Cambodian is not as funny as Bilal's encounter. See his most recent post if you haven't already.
On to my list of lessons learned:
- Mother Nature is predictable. Yep, at least here anyway. I tell time now by the daily afternoon rains.
- Used bookstores here are awesome. And are easily found. No luck on finding my policy workshop reading list though.
- Commuting in SE Asia is an adrenaline-producing endeavor. Google "tuk-tuk" to get an idea. From time to time, I play real-live Frogger on the main boulevards. I haven't lost yet.
- I'm not Ironman. I learned this before watching the movie here a couple days ago. In the 12 days I was relaxing back home in California, I played 4 games of basketball. I fractured a bone in my left hand while playing in a game two days before my flight to the Kingdom of Cambodia. And though it didn't hurt, I had it examined last Friday. And now I have a cast--ending my glorious streak of no fractured or broken bones. Oh well.
- Bilal is now a certified cartographer. Seriously. It might have to do with the fact that most streets here are known by numbers and not by names. Or maybe Bilal just wouldn't dare to lead me astray.
- I'm now a certified food "enthusiast." Surprising as it may sound, Phnom Penh dining is unreal in terms of choices and tastiness. I've already eaten good American, Chinese, Korean, Khmer, Thai, Lebanese, Indian, Belgian (well, imported chocolate), French, and Italian food. Only about 180 more ethnic foods to go.
- I still don't like using maps on the street. Or rude expats. Enough said.
Hoping everyone has a safe, unpredictable, and productive summer. I'll try to do my part. -bp
***This description by a Cambodian is not as funny as Bilal's encounter. See his most recent post if you haven't already.
Friday, June 20, 2008
Contents of my Emergency backpack
So the one really cool thing about working in downtown Washington DC is that on my third day, I was issued an Emergency Backpack by HR. Did anyone else get one of these and if so, what's in it? I want to compare...
Contents:
one silver emergency survival blanket
24 blocks of hardtack (which I googled and found is from the civil war!)
4 tiny bags of water
Apparently, this will last me 4 days... ah, post-9/11 life in DC!
Happy World Refugee Day, everyone!
Contents:
one silver emergency survival blanket
24 blocks of hardtack (which I googled and found is from the civil war!)
4 tiny bags of water
Apparently, this will last me 4 days... ah, post-9/11 life in DC!
Happy World Refugee Day, everyone!
Hup Holland Hup! (From Geneva)
First off, I'm glad I got this far. Everything about setting up a google/gmail account is in german (incl. this page) and I can't find the "english" button. Also, does anyone else notice that the little ads that automatically pop up (i.e., like on facebook) are location appropriate? I.e., meet sexy swiss singles now!
Anyways, I'm in Geneva along with Catherine, Andi, Wei Yuan and Sarah. It's been a lot of fun so far. Clare would be proud of me: I organized an impromptu family dinner for participants in the Duke/HEI program who live in my building and it went well, was fun and people actually came! B/c of food restrictions (gluten, veggie...) we served stir fried veggies and rice. To be environmentally friendly (Carlos and Frank would approve) everyone brought their own plate/utensils and we served everyone up a portion of rice and veggies. It was really nice. (But in a strange way reminded me of those posters of monks feeding the poor -- hmmm...)
Now that I don't have school to stress about, I've started worrying about the Euro Championships...i.e., will Holland (my team) beat Russia on Saturday? Will I find a TV screen (I will be in the mountains)? Will my fellow hikers understand my urgency to find a TV screen...etc. etc. It's a little ridiculous, but I've just really gotten into it.
Anyways, my internship is going well. I'm quite busy, but finally feel like I'm settling in. It's a nice feeling.
Ciao, Pam.
Anyways, I'm in Geneva along with Catherine, Andi, Wei Yuan and Sarah. It's been a lot of fun so far. Clare would be proud of me: I organized an impromptu family dinner for participants in the Duke/HEI program who live in my building and it went well, was fun and people actually came! B/c of food restrictions (gluten, veggie...) we served stir fried veggies and rice. To be environmentally friendly (Carlos and Frank would approve) everyone brought their own plate/utensils and we served everyone up a portion of rice and veggies. It was really nice. (But in a strange way reminded me of those posters of monks feeding the poor -- hmmm...)
Now that I don't have school to stress about, I've started worrying about the Euro Championships...i.e., will Holland (my team) beat Russia on Saturday? Will I find a TV screen (I will be in the mountains)? Will my fellow hikers understand my urgency to find a TV screen...etc. etc. It's a little ridiculous, but I've just really gotten into it.
Anyways, my internship is going well. I'm quite busy, but finally feel like I'm settling in. It's a nice feeling.
Ciao, Pam.
Thursday, June 19, 2008
The First Rule of Fight Club
Casablanca
Rick: How can you close me up? On what grounds?
Captain Renault: I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!
[a croupier hands Renault a pile of money]
Croupier: Your winnings, sir.
Captain Renault: [softly] Oh, thank you very much.
Captain Renault: [aloud] Everybody out at once!
Had it not been for the profound, non-obvious knowledge imparted upon me during 501, I would have been shocked and chagrined by the amount of bureaucratic inefficiencies I've encountered during my first week at the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD). Who among us would have ever thought that the federal government would be fraught with such bureaucratic inefficiencies:
1 "n" = young, Asian-American intern
2 "n"s = middle-aged, white senior official
I still have yet to meet Mr. Shinn, which makes me wonder if Mr. Shinn is simply my Tyler Durden-esque identity. I'll let you all know the madness that ensues when I finally meet my doppleganger.
And please note that the Office Space quote is simply a hook to get people to read this far and is not meant to imply that anyone is an ass-clown.
Rick: How can you close me up? On what grounds?
Captain Renault: I'm shocked, shocked to find that gambling is going on in here!
[a croupier hands Renault a pile of money]
Croupier: Your winnings, sir.
Captain Renault: [softly] Oh, thank you very much.
Captain Renault: [aloud] Everybody out at once!
Had it not been for the profound, non-obvious knowledge imparted upon me during 501, I would have been shocked and chagrined by the amount of bureaucratic inefficiencies I've encountered during my first week at the Office of the Secretary of Defense (OSD). Who among us would have ever thought that the federal government would be fraught with such bureaucratic inefficiencies:
- It took a month of calling and e-mailing for the gov't to let me know that my security clearance had been approved...3 weeks before I first contacted them.
- There is a standardized paper clip that must accompany all multi-page submissions.
- Finally, it took a week for IT to set up my computer and network access, so I thought I would blog to commemorate the fact that I finally have a computer.
Michael Bolton: Yeah, well at least your name isn't Michael Bolton.
Samir: You know there's nothing wrong with that name.
Michael Bolton: There was nothing wrong with it... until I was about 12 years old and that no-talent ass clown became famous and started winning Grammys.
Samir: Hmm... well why don't you just go by Mike instead of Michael?
Michael Bolton: No way. Why should I change? He's the one who sucks.
1 "n" = young, Asian-American intern
2 "n"s = middle-aged, white senior official
I still have yet to meet Mr. Shinn, which makes me wonder if Mr. Shinn is simply my Tyler Durden-esque identity. I'll let you all know the madness that ensues when I finally meet my doppleganger.
And please note that the Office Space quote is simply a hook to get people to read this far and is not meant to imply that anyone is an ass-clown.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
...and I thought grad school was tough on my brain!
Hi all out there in the world. I finally arrived to DC and began my internship 2 days ago at Brookings working on the Brookings-Bern Project on Internal Displacement. It is hard to believe that it has only been two days since they have had me jump right in and I already feel like a part of the team with deadlines looming. After presenting me with a list of about 60 ongoing initiatives, we boiled down my projects this summer to the following handful:
1/3 of my time will be devoted to Colombia. I will be helping to go over a draft report on the role of local authorities in the provision of services for the internally displaced, in preparation for an event with Colombian municipal authorities on improving their response and compliance with policies related to IDPs. I will also be helping with some of the research on a study of the role of Colombian IDPs in the peace process.
1/3 of my time will be devoted to special projects, including some research to support a guidebook for Mediators of Peace Agreements on how best to incorporate IDP needs into these formal agreements and into the process. I have already jumped right into analyzing every peace agreement since 1989 to look for references to the internally displaced and to determine which are good examples for future agreements. I will also be contributing later to an analysis of the role of local NGOs in IDP protection, the Nexus between migration and displacement, and prehaps a bit on corporate philanthropy and humanitarian response. Totally up my alley - I love this place!
1/3 whatever comes up! And this could be a million things at this point!! Next week I will be attenging a meeting with the Sudanese government and IDP groups, and another event on Afghan displacement and there are a billion other things happening since this year is the 10th anniversary of the Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement.
All I can say is that I am thrilled to be back in DC where there is so much of interest and where I am perhaps realizing that policy work can be extremely stimulating. I went to a lunch borwn bag today with the entire foreign policy staff and heard about their ongoing work on Afghanistan, Ukraine, NATO, the opening of the Arctic, Doha and other craziness.
So far what has amazed me is the amount of time I have to sit and work on one thing, to analyze one issue at length without having to constantly multi-task. Not sure which I prefer yet... seems I may have a bit of A.D.D! Gotta go focus some more - see you later!
Sue
1/3 of my time will be devoted to Colombia. I will be helping to go over a draft report on the role of local authorities in the provision of services for the internally displaced, in preparation for an event with Colombian municipal authorities on improving their response and compliance with policies related to IDPs. I will also be helping with some of the research on a study of the role of Colombian IDPs in the peace process.
1/3 of my time will be devoted to special projects, including some research to support a guidebook for Mediators of Peace Agreements on how best to incorporate IDP needs into these formal agreements and into the process. I have already jumped right into analyzing every peace agreement since 1989 to look for references to the internally displaced and to determine which are good examples for future agreements. I will also be contributing later to an analysis of the role of local NGOs in IDP protection, the Nexus between migration and displacement, and prehaps a bit on corporate philanthropy and humanitarian response. Totally up my alley - I love this place!
1/3 whatever comes up! And this could be a million things at this point!! Next week I will be attenging a meeting with the Sudanese government and IDP groups, and another event on Afghan displacement and there are a billion other things happening since this year is the 10th anniversary of the Guiding Principles on Internal Displacement.
All I can say is that I am thrilled to be back in DC where there is so much of interest and where I am perhaps realizing that policy work can be extremely stimulating. I went to a lunch borwn bag today with the entire foreign policy staff and heard about their ongoing work on Afghanistan, Ukraine, NATO, the opening of the Arctic, Doha and other craziness.
So far what has amazed me is the amount of time I have to sit and work on one thing, to analyze one issue at length without having to constantly multi-task. Not sure which I prefer yet... seems I may have a bit of A.D.D! Gotta go focus some more - see you later!
Sue
British English?
Spurred by Asher's calling me out, I submit my first (ever) blog entry (luddites: unite!)
peace, -Will
India is amazing and overwhelming and frustrating. The size of the place, the depth of poverty, the noise, the smells – of wonderful food and jasmine flowers, of rampant pollution and urine – everything is writ large. Very few people speak English, so it's been isolating at times. It definitely makes you think about how important having a community is. Go Woos!
While there are a lot of important policy and ethical issues that my experiences in India raise, I figured I'd add some levity to this conversation for my first blog entry. In particular, I've found some funny wording.
I love Indian food, but having it at every meal can get tough on the stomach and the psyche. So this past weekend in Hyderabad, I went to a couple places that serve other types of food. The menu at one place included (I write this exactly as it was written):
Plain D'ble cheese pizza
Topped with Just more & Cheese
Chilly Chicken Pizza
Veg. Franky
Chicken 65 Pizza
Topped with...Chicken 65 and Cheese
[65 is a common food adjective: “aloo 65” “paneer 65”, etc. Rumor is there may be 65 spices or these were developed in 1965...]
Also, at the hotel I stayed at, there was a list of Rules and Regulations. The first read:
Lodgers are requested not to disturb or cause inconvenience to other inmates of the Hotel. [emphasis added]
And the last rule read:
If any lodger is found acting in contravention of the Rules and Regulations or misbehaves or is found undesirable, the Management reserves its full rights to eject such lodger from the premises at once.
I was glad they didn't get a good look at me.
peace, -Will
Kuc Mito Dyere
In Luo, the local dialect of the Acholi people of northern Uganda, this phrase translates to "peace requires sacrifice" and is the mantra of my program. Yet, in the course of a brutal twenty-three year war against the Lord Resistance Army (LRA) that has killed tens of thousands and displaced hundreds of thousands more, haven't people sacrificed enough?
I'm conducting an assessment of a conflict mitigation program based out of Pader district in northern Uganda along the border with the notorious Karamoja pastoralist warriors. Pader is extremely remote with the nearest market a two-hour drive away. There's no electricity or running water, but the organization's guesthouse is solar-powered providing light in the evenings unless my colleagues get carried away watching football matches.
The program aims to prepare the internally displaced communities for the reintegration of former LRA combatants through the formation of local peace committees equipped with training on conflict resolution, transitional justice and reconciliation methods. Complementary radio broadcasts on gender-based violence, land disputes and other issues of concern identified by the communities seek to reach a broader audience.
The program, like many nongovernmental initiatives, is fraught by common problems of dependency. My supervisor, who is from Sierra Leone and was himself abducted by the rebels in his own country's devastating war, attests firsthand to enduring truth of the program's mantra. He extols the virtues of voluntarism and reminds the communities that this is ultimately their peace to forge and to keep.
At present, however, the peace that exists is tenuous at best. The LRA's elusive leader Joseph Kony has repeatedly failed to appear at the Juba talks to sign a final peace accord with the Ugandan government and there have been recent massacres along the southern Sudanese border. Rumors of child abduction and rearmament abound. The Ugandan government, in a recent joint announcement with the DRC and MONUC forces, the Central African Republic and Sudan, vowed to wage regional war to eliminate the LRA dissidents.
Last week, I interviewed a local peace trainer with our program whose husband had been killed by the LRA and who had been subsequently abducted while she was pregnant and beaten so badly that she went into early labor. Her premature infant son died several days later from severe brain damage. Nearly a decade later, she was at the local hospital to visit a relative and encountered the rebel who had beaten her so many years before. She recalled that he was alone and starving in the hospital. Without recognition of their previous connection, he implored her to help him. She visited him to bring him food and keep him company everyday for a month until he recovered. Only then did she remind him of their fateful shared history and he asked for forgiveness. They remained friends until he perished of complications from AIDS last year.
Her story reminded me that ordinary Ugandans are creating peace even in the absence of a formal peace agreement. The capacity for forgiveness is astounding. I'm not sure what a lasting peace requires, but at a minimum it does seem to require sacrifice.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
My Top Seven
I am in Kansas City, Missouri to intern at the Kauffman Foundation. It is in the middle of America. Need I say more?
7. BBQ ribs, BBQ chicken, BBQ burgers, BBQ ice cream...
6. Improving my sprinting skills to dodge drive-by shootings in East Side Kansas City. Its code name is "Beirut."
5. My fabulous apartment overlooking the flood-lighted parking lot of Section 8 housing.
4. Playing golf on the rolling, rolling, rolling, rolling green hills of Kansas City. It never ends.
3. Doing micro-enterprise consulting and documentary film "in the cuts" of Jackson County. Carrying a sharp object just in case.
2. Free hearty breakfasts, two-dollar meals, trips to DC and New Orleans, getting paid!
1. Learning to attach the "h" sound hwith hwords that start hwith "w" to attempt to fit in hwith locals. Trying not to feel hweird about it.
Paint pants and timberlands.
I got to Boston and they sent me to Rhode Island. I got to Rhode Island and they sent me to Miami. Who knew that a policy internship would necessitate Timberland boots and paint pants? I am loving this job.
Thankfully, I’m working with superfabulous alum Rob Gordon, who understands what an MPA is (more than just MBA- light). So I get hauled into his office every couple of days for a drill about “policy implications,” “strategic partnerships,” and “deployed knowledge from 501 and other great works.”
He set me up to work with a superfabulous MPA… from Harvard. Despite my initial misgivings, turns out they learn things there, too. And, I’m not just painting murals with the kids! I’m also working with her to develop a handbook of Best Practices for New Site Development. After launching its 19th site, City Year has decided to take a moment and reflect. Good thing I took program & policy evaluation! Oh wait. I didn’t. I took 505.
Best of both worlds
Conversation with a real estate agent (John) while on the back of his motorcycle:
John: Where you are from?
Bilal: Pakistan.
J: You flew in from Pakistan?
B: No, from Sri Lanka.
J: You live in Sri Lanka?
B: No, in the US.
J: Where is that?
B: America.
J: Aaaaaah, now I see.
B: See what?
J: It confuse me earlier, when I see it, I think, your face... it half east, and half west...
John: Where you are from?
Bilal: Pakistan.
J: You flew in from Pakistan?
B: No, from Sri Lanka.
J: You live in Sri Lanka?
B: No, in the US.
J: Where is that?
B: America.
J: Aaaaaah, now I see.
B: See what?
J: It confuse me earlier, when I see it, I think, your face... it half east, and half west...
More than just a drinking game...
On my lunch break during the QE1 (years ago, it seems), I ran into our dear classmate Marianne El-Khoury in the grad lounge. “Have you heard the news?” she asked. We had been talking frequently about my upcoming visit to her homeland of Lebanon, and I could tell from the look in her eyes that it was serious. “It's war.”
Nearly one month later to the day, I sat in a dark, air-conditioned sedan on the way from Rafiq Hariri International Airport to my flat in West Beirut, imagining what the “war” Marianne had spoken of had looked like. The highway we were driving on would have been barricaded by masked men burning tires and brandishing kalashnikovs, putting a stranglehold on Lebanon’s main artery to the outside world. My neighborhood of Hamra, which had remained an oasis of calm throughout the country’s long civil war, would have been overrun by rival militias battling in the streets, as frightened families huddled together in their back rooms. The stores and cafes would have had their shutters drawn tight, and the tent city of protesters suffocating the newly-renovated downtown would have been bustling with activity in support of one faction or another...
...The view from my balcony, facing east toward downtown and the Mt. Lebanon range beyond. The nice building in the foreground is the Hariri palace, home of the late prime minister Rafiq Hariri (whose assassination in 2005 was a watershed event in Lebanese politics) and his son Sa’ad (who serves as the current parliamentary majority leader). Secretary Rice visited the palace yesterday to "express support for Lebanese democracy," sending the neighborhood into a state of lockdown...
I write all of this not to glamorize the situation here, for in a land where the violent days have outnumbered the peaceful ones for nearly 40 years, there is nothing glamorous about their recurrence. Instead, I write it to draw a sharp contrast with the Lebanon I found when I finally arrived here last Wednesday, ten days behind schedule and three weeks after the country’s rainmakers reached an accord in Doha which brought an end to the political stalemate that had paralyzed the government for the past 18 months.
I wish I could have been here when the deal was struck. Over dinner the other night, my boss at IFES told me of how he had rushed downtown as soon as the news broke. Within minutes, the tent city had been dismantled with remarkable efficiency to make way for restaurant patrons and excited pedestrians. Stores that had been closed for over a year reopened their doors, and the streets and sidewalk cafes were filled with people again. By the time I arrived, life had returned to normal, or at least as normal as it gets these days in Beirut. It was almost as if nothing had happened...
...The view from my office. Despite the renewed calm, the LAF retain a heavy presence in West Beirut and other areas affected by the recent civil strife. Somewhat ironically, the army is the only state institution viewed as independent and objective, which explains why the new Lebanese president was drawn from its ranks...
Almost. There are constant reminders, of course. My five-minute walk to work takes me through no less than three military checkpoints and a parking lot full of armored personnel carriers. Last weekend, at the home of a young professor at AUB I have befriended, we drank Turkish coffee and smoked nargileh (hookah) beneath the fresh shrapnel holes in his living room wall. And the Doha agreement did little to resolve the fundamental political and religious rifts underlying the episodic violence that continues to consume this tiny Mediterranean nation (whether or not a reform of the country’s electoral system would accomplish this will be the subject of another entry)...
...A Greek Orthodox church in Anfeh, home of the El-Khoury family. There are 18 official religious sects in Lebanon, from the Alawites to the Evangelicals, and every Lebanese citizen must belong to one (at least on paper) so that political power can be shared proportionally. At times this complex confessional arrangement has been a remarkable story of human coexistence; at other times, a tragic example of its failure...
Such is Lebanon, from what little this humble, wide-eyed Westerner has gathered so far. There’s a certain tragic beauty to it: life is lived to its fullest, for it is all too precious to live otherwise. The swank nightclubs are packed with well-dressed partygoers of all faiths an fashions; the country is obsessed with European soccer, with each fan claiming a cousin or uncle or daughter in Germany or Turkey or Italy; food and hospitality are exalted above all else. And why not? Lebanon has its own unique history and circumstances to deal with, but if we all approached life with the same appreciation for its finer side, perhaps the world would be a better place. Or at least a whole lot more fun.
...The view from my balcony, facing east toward downtown and the Mt. Lebanon range beyond. The nice building in the foreground is the Hariri palace, home of the late prime minister Rafiq Hariri (whose assassination in 2005 was a watershed event in Lebanese politics) and his son Sa’ad (who serves as the current parliamentary majority leader). Secretary Rice visited the palace yesterday to "express support for Lebanese democracy," sending the neighborhood into a state of lockdown...
...The view from my office. Despite the renewed calm, the LAF retain a heavy presence in West Beirut and other areas affected by the recent civil strife. Somewhat ironically, the army is the only state institution viewed as independent and objective, which explains why the new Lebanese president was drawn from its ranks...
...A Greek Orthodox church in Anfeh, home of the El-Khoury family. There are 18 official religious sects in Lebanon, from the Alawites to the Evangelicals, and every Lebanese citizen must belong to one (at least on paper) so that political power can be shared proportionally. At times this complex confessional arrangement has been a remarkable story of human coexistence; at other times, a tragic example of its failure...Such is Lebanon, from what little this humble, wide-eyed Westerner has gathered so far. There’s a certain tragic beauty to it: life is lived to its fullest, for it is all too precious to live otherwise. The swank nightclubs are packed with well-dressed partygoers of all faiths an fashions; the country is obsessed with European soccer, with each fan claiming a cousin or uncle or daughter in Germany or Turkey or Italy; food and hospitality are exalted above all else. And why not? Lebanon has its own unique history and circumstances to deal with, but if we all approached life with the same appreciation for its finer side, perhaps the world would be a better place. Or at least a whole lot more fun.
Monday, June 16, 2008
How I learned to write a "Note Verbale"
Greetings people. I am posting a somewhat amusing document written by a former academic who is now a UN political officer in Khartum. The intended audience for this paper was a group of newly graduated phd students who started work at the UN. The paper contains some useful lessons on working at the UN but also explains the usefulness of the note verbale, the french equivalent of our revered memo. All you need to know about writing a memo and policy implications contained in a couple of pages. Who needs all those 501 lessons?
I am putting this up for people who might be interested in working at the UN even though some of the stuff said (ie. you will never take credit for your work!) is relevant for all major bureaucratic organizations. I also thought this might be good procrastination material. Finally, I am putting this up in order to educate people like Darren who clearly have a lot of learning and growing up to do. (You are welcome...!) Enjoy!
NB. This is copyrighted material and should be treated as such.
How I learned to Write a ”Note Verbale”
By Musifiky Mwanasali[1]
United Nations Mission in Sudan, Khartoum
My brief for this workshop is to share my views about how academics need to learn to speak to policy makers. I am here to talk about my experience about the difficulties I once faced (and still do) as a (quasi-)academic moving to the policy world, and what lessons I have learned on how to “translate” academic knowledge to policy practitioners and, since translation is a reciprocal transaction, how to respond to the exigencies of work in the policy world in a non-academic language.
Verily, verily, as a dear friend of mine who used to be in this very situation would say, I can’t pretend to give any advice or insights, let alone offer guidance or a treatise on the skills you as young academics can use in your aspiration to make a difference in the policy world. All I can do is reflect, in retrospect, on some of the lessons I learned, often the hard way, when I joined the policy world and began interacting with colleagues and supervisors who, in the academic world, could have as well been my students.
The views I will now express are personal and subjective. Look at them as anecdotes informed by my experience as a ‘practitioner’ working for the Organization of African Unity, which became the African Union in 2002, on issues in an African context. The “note verbale,” that glorious piece of diplomatic communication which I have chosen as the title for this presentation, is emblematic of the challenges I first faced when I joined the policy world. It is a very simple piece to write: no high school degree needed for it. But my new supervisors dealt so roughly with my first note verbale that I learned very quickly, and with shock, the uselessness of the Chicago Manual of Style! I must admit that I have since stopped reading it. I learned many other lessons along the way, on notes verbale and such, and I even became quite adept at drafting very good ones. But that first draft, I still remember it.
What else have I learned that I can share with you?
You shall take no credit for your work
Academia is about production, acquisition and dissemination of knowledge according to agreed protocols (methodology, verification, universal applicability, etc) in recognized or accredited settings. The policy world is about experience preferably acquired in the “real world” regardless of how it was acquired.
Academic titles are supposed to convey appreciation for the degree of intellectual maturity one has achieved. Research pieces are always full of (self-) references, and a bibliography testifies to the author’s scholarship. There is little or no equivalent in the real world. Quite the contrary, there may be a certain resistance to “intellectuals,” often accompanied by derisive comments on (in my case) “consultants”: “They hold higher degrees but have no clue of what our work is all about!”
Lesson learned: You shall not flash those little two or three words and a dot that precede or follow your names (until you are fully integrated; by this time it shall be too late to do so, anyway). Since yours will always be “drafts” that you will submit to your supervisor for approval, you should resign yourself to claiming no credit for your work.
Think outside the box, act inside it
Creativity and imagination (“innovation”) are a key to professional success and personal fame in academia. One can write about the ‘State and the Crisis in Africa’, or the ‘Crisis of the State in Africa,’ or even the ‘African State in Crisis.’ One can go a step further with a title like the ‘Vampire State in Africa.’
Some friends in the think-tank world (this is the subject for another workshop) are fond of contrasting “hegemons,” like South Africa and Nigeria, to “Lilliputian states,” like Swaziland and Lesotho. Experts have written extensively about the balance of power in international relations. Even among African governments, there is a (rather tacit) recognition that some countries are more important than others in the defense of the interests of the continent. But in the world ruled by the sacrosanct principle of sovereign equality, there are no hegemons or Lilliputians.
The fifty-three member states of the African Union do not seem to feel uncomfortable with the fact that only five of them should shoulder three-quarters of the organization’s annual budget. But these ‘free-loaders,’ as it were, have fiercely opposed any attempt by the “big five” to control a representation in the structure of the organization proportional to their assessed contribution.
During the debate on the Protocol on the Peace and Security Council of the African Union in 2001-2002, the Lilliputians of African politics soundly defeated every attempt by the hegemons to create a category of permanent (i.e. the hegemons) and non-permanent members of the fifteen-member quasi-Security Council for Africa. In the end, the organization settled for a rotating system of five members sitting for three years, and ten for two years. And in the African representation in the UN Security Council, one will easily find Lilliputians seating alongside hegemons, as is the case at the moment.
Relevance, not elegance
This is by far the major pitfall academics talking to policy makers should avoid. It is about “redacting” excellent analytical pieces but trivial or impractical policy recommendations. Academic sophistication in explaining the world is not readily digestible by a policy world hungry to transform it. Policy-makers expect ‘actionable recommendations.’ Most of what academics write about doesn’t generally meet that need.
Structural adjustment or investments in farming and agricultural production may be an elegant and “tested” framework for economic recovery in a post-conflict society. But the reality is, people who lived through a civil war are very unlikely to abandon the practices that helped them survive economically for an elegant policy framework that is unrelated to their daily struggles. The poppy seeds rural economy in Afghanistan is an example.
Some years back, a debate raged in some think-tank and academic circles about what was known as “economic agendas in civil wars.” The initiator of the project, a respected economist, academic and policy wonk, was (rightly or wrongly) accused of obsession with theoretical elegance in his effort to unveil, with econometric modeling, economic grievances at the roots of civil wars.
It’s all about member states!
Consultation is a word one often hears, and consultation is what one is expected to undertake at all times. No policy recommendation can fly if it is not acceptable to member states as a whole, the Hegemons and the Lilliputians alike.
The African Union Constitutive Act condemns unconstitutional changes of governments. The coup d’état tops the list of such acts. But member states refused to include in the same category attempts by incumbents to change the constitution in order to extend their tenure in office. Also, they fiercely resisted the inclusion of electoral fraud as usurpation of power, a form of coup d’état and therefore an unconstitutional change of government.
Government reactions to putschists are also informative. During the constitutional crisis in the Comoros, nearly the entire membership of the Organization of African Unity refused to recognize the government of Colonel Azali and pushed ahead with sanctions. But in Madagascar in 2001, when Marc Ravalomanana seized power from President Ratsiraka, whom he accused of election rigging, the OAU was split in the middle. Ironically, the same governments which strongly opposed Colonel Azali’s coup in the Comoros took sides for Marc Ravalomanana - the one who unseated an incumbent - and recognized him as duly elected head of state.
Obviously, governments have their own interests – agendas. So do bureaucrats, you might add. Yes, but who doesn’t? Who would you prefer to deal with: those whose agenda is clear and known, or the ones who claim to be objective in a policy environment where everyone knows or suspects everyone else of harboring ulterior motives?
Constructive Ambiguity
You may be asked to draft statements that intend to convey the impression that something is being done about a certain situation when it is actually the opposite. In ordinary language, “we are monitoring the situation” simply means we are doing nothing about it. “Extensive discussions” could mean that we spent more time on procedural matters than on substance. And “comprehensive solutions” may not be as they sound.
Constructive ambiguities are generally used in an attempt to accommodate competing positions. In trying to satisfy everyone, nobody truly is, and whatever decision is reached cannot be implemented.
“Protocols” are intended to be operational, but some are notorious for their absolutely confusing meaning outside the small circle of those who drafted them. Take the Protocol on Abyei, the oil rich area in Sudan. The country is now debating the delineation of the line separating the north from the south. Abyei is hotly disputed by both the north and the south. But the Protocol for Abyei cleverly considers it “a bridge between the north and the south, linking the people of Sudan.” But where is Abyei: in the north or the south?
Forget the Chicago Manual of Style…
…and the esoteric jargon of your discipline. C.Wright Mills (I believe) once wrote a damning piece on sociospeak. Do heed his counsel, and more. You decide the audience you write for and the purpose of your publication, and this decision influences the level of analysis and the terminology used. Often, this is an audience of your academic peers.
Writing for a policy audience is quite a different task. Preference should be given to short pieces, of one or one page and a quarter. Even for reports, the length is usually set in advance (“not more than 8000 words”), and the words are not always of your choosing. In the OAU, colleagues were fond of ‘deploy efforts’ or ‘it being understood.’ In the UN, there may be no paragraph (and a lengthy one) without ‘including.’
As for the style: the audience may not have the same level of conceptual sophistication. Make every effort, therefore, to shun the jargon of your discipline and write (or speak) in a language that is understandable. It will help immensely if one uses the language of the audience. Doing this would guarantee your consultancy for ever.
Pay attention to the meaning of your words. Advocating “structural conflict prevention” sounds great and trendy, but member states rarely admit to having domestic troubles and when they do, they are often allergic to “external intervention.”
By way of conclusion
Academia and the policy world serve different yet complementary purposes. Each performs useful functions in society. Each is subject to a set of rules and procedures that legitimize its purpose in society. The goal should not be to conflate them or make one subservient to the other. The ideal - and the challenge - is how to help the two worlds communicate and enrich each other. This is a challenge for both academics and policy makers.
I specifically talk about my experience in the OAU/AU. A dear friend of mine, who was once a professor before joining the OAU and the UN, and now back in academia, pointedly reminded me that as someone who has worked in both the AU and UN (as I continue to), almost everything I said on the OAU/AU applies, mutatis mutandis, to the UN as well: whether it is the anti-intellectualism, the fact that you are not supposed to claim credit for any papers that you produce, let alone put your name on it, the very suppression of the use of academic titles, the philosophy that the member States are king and queen and so the Secretariat is just that, that is, subservient to them and their agendas, the bureaucratese in which reports are to be written (forget the Chicago manual...), the fact that the majority of freeloaders are not uncomfortable with only a handful of states paying three-quarters of the budget (for the UN: US, Japan, Germany, etc.) but resist every attempt by the big contributors to influence all major decisions by the organization. All this is just as true of the AU as of the UN.
I point this out, so that I don't give the impression I am hammering away at the African Union and that your experience will be totally different in the UN. A standard education requirement for UN jobs in political affairs often reads as follows: “Advanced university degree (Master's or equivalent) in Political Science, International Relations, Social Science, International Economics, Law, Public Administration or related fields. A first level university degree with a relevant combination of academic qualifications and experience may be accepted in lieu of the advanced university degree.” In practice, this means (1) Ph.D. in Political Science is not really required, and (2) a young (or old) Ph.D. joining the organization without ‘a relevant combination of academic qualifications and experience’ could be hired as a P-2, which is the beginner’s level.
[1] The author takes sole and full responsibility for the views expressed in this piece.
I am putting this up for people who might be interested in working at the UN even though some of the stuff said (ie. you will never take credit for your work!) is relevant for all major bureaucratic organizations. I also thought this might be good procrastination material. Finally, I am putting this up in order to educate people like Darren who clearly have a lot of learning and growing up to do. (You are welcome...!) Enjoy!
NB. This is copyrighted material and should be treated as such.
How I learned to Write a ”Note Verbale”
By Musifiky Mwanasali[1]
United Nations Mission in Sudan, Khartoum
My brief for this workshop is to share my views about how academics need to learn to speak to policy makers. I am here to talk about my experience about the difficulties I once faced (and still do) as a (quasi-)academic moving to the policy world, and what lessons I have learned on how to “translate” academic knowledge to policy practitioners and, since translation is a reciprocal transaction, how to respond to the exigencies of work in the policy world in a non-academic language.
Verily, verily, as a dear friend of mine who used to be in this very situation would say, I can’t pretend to give any advice or insights, let alone offer guidance or a treatise on the skills you as young academics can use in your aspiration to make a difference in the policy world. All I can do is reflect, in retrospect, on some of the lessons I learned, often the hard way, when I joined the policy world and began interacting with colleagues and supervisors who, in the academic world, could have as well been my students.
The views I will now express are personal and subjective. Look at them as anecdotes informed by my experience as a ‘practitioner’ working for the Organization of African Unity, which became the African Union in 2002, on issues in an African context. The “note verbale,” that glorious piece of diplomatic communication which I have chosen as the title for this presentation, is emblematic of the challenges I first faced when I joined the policy world. It is a very simple piece to write: no high school degree needed for it. But my new supervisors dealt so roughly with my first note verbale that I learned very quickly, and with shock, the uselessness of the Chicago Manual of Style! I must admit that I have since stopped reading it. I learned many other lessons along the way, on notes verbale and such, and I even became quite adept at drafting very good ones. But that first draft, I still remember it.
What else have I learned that I can share with you?
You shall take no credit for your work
Academia is about production, acquisition and dissemination of knowledge according to agreed protocols (methodology, verification, universal applicability, etc) in recognized or accredited settings. The policy world is about experience preferably acquired in the “real world” regardless of how it was acquired.
Academic titles are supposed to convey appreciation for the degree of intellectual maturity one has achieved. Research pieces are always full of (self-) references, and a bibliography testifies to the author’s scholarship. There is little or no equivalent in the real world. Quite the contrary, there may be a certain resistance to “intellectuals,” often accompanied by derisive comments on (in my case) “consultants”: “They hold higher degrees but have no clue of what our work is all about!”
Lesson learned: You shall not flash those little two or three words and a dot that precede or follow your names (until you are fully integrated; by this time it shall be too late to do so, anyway). Since yours will always be “drafts” that you will submit to your supervisor for approval, you should resign yourself to claiming no credit for your work.
Think outside the box, act inside it
Creativity and imagination (“innovation”) are a key to professional success and personal fame in academia. One can write about the ‘State and the Crisis in Africa’, or the ‘Crisis of the State in Africa,’ or even the ‘African State in Crisis.’ One can go a step further with a title like the ‘Vampire State in Africa.’
Some friends in the think-tank world (this is the subject for another workshop) are fond of contrasting “hegemons,” like South Africa and Nigeria, to “Lilliputian states,” like Swaziland and Lesotho. Experts have written extensively about the balance of power in international relations. Even among African governments, there is a (rather tacit) recognition that some countries are more important than others in the defense of the interests of the continent. But in the world ruled by the sacrosanct principle of sovereign equality, there are no hegemons or Lilliputians.
The fifty-three member states of the African Union do not seem to feel uncomfortable with the fact that only five of them should shoulder three-quarters of the organization’s annual budget. But these ‘free-loaders,’ as it were, have fiercely opposed any attempt by the “big five” to control a representation in the structure of the organization proportional to their assessed contribution.
During the debate on the Protocol on the Peace and Security Council of the African Union in 2001-2002, the Lilliputians of African politics soundly defeated every attempt by the hegemons to create a category of permanent (i.e. the hegemons) and non-permanent members of the fifteen-member quasi-Security Council for Africa. In the end, the organization settled for a rotating system of five members sitting for three years, and ten for two years. And in the African representation in the UN Security Council, one will easily find Lilliputians seating alongside hegemons, as is the case at the moment.
Relevance, not elegance
This is by far the major pitfall academics talking to policy makers should avoid. It is about “redacting” excellent analytical pieces but trivial or impractical policy recommendations. Academic sophistication in explaining the world is not readily digestible by a policy world hungry to transform it. Policy-makers expect ‘actionable recommendations.’ Most of what academics write about doesn’t generally meet that need.
Structural adjustment or investments in farming and agricultural production may be an elegant and “tested” framework for economic recovery in a post-conflict society. But the reality is, people who lived through a civil war are very unlikely to abandon the practices that helped them survive economically for an elegant policy framework that is unrelated to their daily struggles. The poppy seeds rural economy in Afghanistan is an example.
Some years back, a debate raged in some think-tank and academic circles about what was known as “economic agendas in civil wars.” The initiator of the project, a respected economist, academic and policy wonk, was (rightly or wrongly) accused of obsession with theoretical elegance in his effort to unveil, with econometric modeling, economic grievances at the roots of civil wars.
It’s all about member states!
Consultation is a word one often hears, and consultation is what one is expected to undertake at all times. No policy recommendation can fly if it is not acceptable to member states as a whole, the Hegemons and the Lilliputians alike.
The African Union Constitutive Act condemns unconstitutional changes of governments. The coup d’état tops the list of such acts. But member states refused to include in the same category attempts by incumbents to change the constitution in order to extend their tenure in office. Also, they fiercely resisted the inclusion of electoral fraud as usurpation of power, a form of coup d’état and therefore an unconstitutional change of government.
Government reactions to putschists are also informative. During the constitutional crisis in the Comoros, nearly the entire membership of the Organization of African Unity refused to recognize the government of Colonel Azali and pushed ahead with sanctions. But in Madagascar in 2001, when Marc Ravalomanana seized power from President Ratsiraka, whom he accused of election rigging, the OAU was split in the middle. Ironically, the same governments which strongly opposed Colonel Azali’s coup in the Comoros took sides for Marc Ravalomanana - the one who unseated an incumbent - and recognized him as duly elected head of state.
Obviously, governments have their own interests – agendas. So do bureaucrats, you might add. Yes, but who doesn’t? Who would you prefer to deal with: those whose agenda is clear and known, or the ones who claim to be objective in a policy environment where everyone knows or suspects everyone else of harboring ulterior motives?
Constructive Ambiguity
You may be asked to draft statements that intend to convey the impression that something is being done about a certain situation when it is actually the opposite. In ordinary language, “we are monitoring the situation” simply means we are doing nothing about it. “Extensive discussions” could mean that we spent more time on procedural matters than on substance. And “comprehensive solutions” may not be as they sound.
Constructive ambiguities are generally used in an attempt to accommodate competing positions. In trying to satisfy everyone, nobody truly is, and whatever decision is reached cannot be implemented.
“Protocols” are intended to be operational, but some are notorious for their absolutely confusing meaning outside the small circle of those who drafted them. Take the Protocol on Abyei, the oil rich area in Sudan. The country is now debating the delineation of the line separating the north from the south. Abyei is hotly disputed by both the north and the south. But the Protocol for Abyei cleverly considers it “a bridge between the north and the south, linking the people of Sudan.” But where is Abyei: in the north or the south?
Forget the Chicago Manual of Style…
…and the esoteric jargon of your discipline. C.Wright Mills (I believe) once wrote a damning piece on sociospeak. Do heed his counsel, and more. You decide the audience you write for and the purpose of your publication, and this decision influences the level of analysis and the terminology used. Often, this is an audience of your academic peers.
Writing for a policy audience is quite a different task. Preference should be given to short pieces, of one or one page and a quarter. Even for reports, the length is usually set in advance (“not more than 8000 words”), and the words are not always of your choosing. In the OAU, colleagues were fond of ‘deploy efforts’ or ‘it being understood.’ In the UN, there may be no paragraph (and a lengthy one) without ‘including.’
As for the style: the audience may not have the same level of conceptual sophistication. Make every effort, therefore, to shun the jargon of your discipline and write (or speak) in a language that is understandable. It will help immensely if one uses the language of the audience. Doing this would guarantee your consultancy for ever.
Pay attention to the meaning of your words. Advocating “structural conflict prevention” sounds great and trendy, but member states rarely admit to having domestic troubles and when they do, they are often allergic to “external intervention.”
By way of conclusion
Academia and the policy world serve different yet complementary purposes. Each performs useful functions in society. Each is subject to a set of rules and procedures that legitimize its purpose in society. The goal should not be to conflate them or make one subservient to the other. The ideal - and the challenge - is how to help the two worlds communicate and enrich each other. This is a challenge for both academics and policy makers.
I specifically talk about my experience in the OAU/AU. A dear friend of mine, who was once a professor before joining the OAU and the UN, and now back in academia, pointedly reminded me that as someone who has worked in both the AU and UN (as I continue to), almost everything I said on the OAU/AU applies, mutatis mutandis, to the UN as well: whether it is the anti-intellectualism, the fact that you are not supposed to claim credit for any papers that you produce, let alone put your name on it, the very suppression of the use of academic titles, the philosophy that the member States are king and queen and so the Secretariat is just that, that is, subservient to them and their agendas, the bureaucratese in which reports are to be written (forget the Chicago manual...), the fact that the majority of freeloaders are not uncomfortable with only a handful of states paying three-quarters of the budget (for the UN: US, Japan, Germany, etc.) but resist every attempt by the big contributors to influence all major decisions by the organization. All this is just as true of the AU as of the UN.
I point this out, so that I don't give the impression I am hammering away at the African Union and that your experience will be totally different in the UN. A standard education requirement for UN jobs in political affairs often reads as follows: “Advanced university degree (Master's or equivalent) in Political Science, International Relations, Social Science, International Economics, Law, Public Administration or related fields. A first level university degree with a relevant combination of academic qualifications and experience may be accepted in lieu of the advanced university degree.” In practice, this means (1) Ph.D. in Political Science is not really required, and (2) a young (or old) Ph.D. joining the organization without ‘a relevant combination of academic qualifications and experience’ could be hired as a P-2, which is the beginner’s level.
[1] The author takes sole and full responsibility for the views expressed in this piece.
Top Ten Quotes of the 2008 Iowa Floods
Back home in Iowa, we love quotes. Or maybe it's just me. Regardless, I have compiled a list of the top ten quotes so far to emerge from local and national reporting on the 2008 Iowa Floods. My commentary is italicized. Enjoy.
10. Honesty is the best policy.
“We've pretty much just abandoned any effort to try and protect the Arts Campus because we are just overwhelmed by the amount of water…It's just too unsafe.” University of Iowa spokesman Steve Parrott, as quoted in the Wall Street Journal.
9. Anonymity is not.
“Let stupid people drown. How many other lives were risked saving the lives of 8 real dumb people? I sure hope they don't reproduce.” Anonymous online comment left in response to the Des Moines Register article 8 people pulled from river in Ottumwa.
8. Jesus better get busy...
“I better get to heaven soon before every church gets flooded.” Iowa City resident who has attended two churches destroyed in the floods.
7. ...but he can skip the water into wine miracle for the time being.
“Man hit with public intox after falling into creek.” Daily Iowan headline
6. Politics of Public Policy, Fall 2008, Week 1 Assignment: In 1250 words or less, analyze the economic and political impact of the following scenario:
“The American farmer, we feed the world…We’re going to be short on corn and we’re going to be short on soybeans.” Iowa farmer, as quoted in the New York Times
5. I hope he brought a saddle.
"This is my first rodeo." Iowa City resident describing the extent of the flood damage.
4. I graduated too early.
“Student workers should not report to their campus jobs next week. They will continue to receive full pay for the week.” Official University of Iowa Flood News Blog
3. June 15, 2008: The first-ever recorded hurricane in Iowa.
“This is our version of Katrina.” Johnson County Emergency Management spokesman Mike Sullivan, as quoted in the Wall Street Journal.
2. If they were about Nietzsche, they’re screwed.
“I guess I will just leave [100 philosophy books left behind after flood evacuation] to their fate.” UI graduate student, as quoted in the Daily Iowan.
1. Amen
“We're in the land of the Hawkeyes…We'll rise above the flood. We just have to deal with it as best we can.” Iowa City business owner, surveying the damage to his property.
10. Honesty is the best policy.
“We've pretty much just abandoned any effort to try and protect the Arts Campus because we are just overwhelmed by the amount of water…It's just too unsafe.” University of Iowa spokesman Steve Parrott, as quoted in the Wall Street Journal.
9. Anonymity is not.
“Let stupid people drown. How many other lives were risked saving the lives of 8 real dumb people? I sure hope they don't reproduce.” Anonymous online comment left in response to the Des Moines Register article 8 people pulled from river in Ottumwa.
8. Jesus better get busy...
“I better get to heaven soon before every church gets flooded.” Iowa City resident who has attended two churches destroyed in the floods.
7. ...but he can skip the water into wine miracle for the time being.
“Man hit with public intox after falling into creek.” Daily Iowan headline
6. Politics of Public Policy, Fall 2008, Week 1 Assignment: In 1250 words or less, analyze the economic and political impact of the following scenario:
“The American farmer, we feed the world…We’re going to be short on corn and we’re going to be short on soybeans.” Iowa farmer, as quoted in the New York Times
5. I hope he brought a saddle.
"This is my first rodeo." Iowa City resident describing the extent of the flood damage.
4. I graduated too early.
“Student workers should not report to their campus jobs next week. They will continue to receive full pay for the week.” Official University of Iowa Flood News Blog
3. June 15, 2008: The first-ever recorded hurricane in Iowa.
“This is our version of Katrina.” Johnson County Emergency Management spokesman Mike Sullivan, as quoted in the Wall Street Journal.
2. If they were about Nietzsche, they’re screwed.
“I guess I will just leave [100 philosophy books left behind after flood evacuation] to their fate.” UI graduate student, as quoted in the Daily Iowan.
1. Amen
“We're in the land of the Hawkeyes…We'll rise above the flood. We just have to deal with it as best we can.” Iowa City business owner, surveying the damage to his property.
Saturday, June 14, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
From Tornados to Tropics
More storms hit my beloved Iowa this week. In Des Moines, high floodwaters closed bridges downtown and many highways around the city, making my trip to the airport much more aquatic than usual.
In Iowa City, water spilled over the dam five miles north of town on Wednesday and will rise to 11 feet over flood stage by next week. As of yesterday, 19 buildings on campus, which stretches across both banks of the mighty Iowa River, were in "imminent threat of flooding".
I was in Iowa City on Tuesday to finish a few errands. Volunteers have built an eight foot high wall of sandbags and concrete barriers on both sides of the river to protect low-lying campus buildings. As far as the I know, floodwaters have not yet breached the wall, but the river is not expected to crest until June 20th, assuming no more rain.
They're calling this a "500 year flood", as they did the 1993 floods that contaminated Des Moines water facilities and ruined my Little League season. After living through two "500 year floods", I feel old.
Near the small town of Blencoe, a tornado hit Little Sioux Scout Ranch, where over 100 Boy Scouts from western Iowa and eastern Nebraska were gathered for a week of outdoor leadership training. Falling trees and a collapsed shelter killed four and injured forty eight. Early this morning, my dad emailed me a picture with the caption "Little Sioux Tornado":
My last trip to Little Sioux was in high school, in the spring. I was there for a weekend of service projects and wilderness camping for my induction into Order of the Arrow, Scouting's honor society. The camp is 1800 acres of trees and hills and valleys. There are few paved roads or buildings with electricity. Our last night there, a terrible thunderstorm hit. We took shelter as best we could, in a building that probably no longer exists.
And here I sit in Manila, at the guarded housing compound, surrounded by palm trees and small birds sitting dangerous close to my can of Coke. There is sun and a slight breeze. A swimming pool with clear water sits in front of me, my furnished apartment in the building next door.
From Stara Tura (Slovakia) to Leon (Nicaragua) in 5 days
Hola! Signing in from Leon, Nicaragua here. Well, unlike Scott and Darren, I haven't really had much beer but I did attend a Slovak wedding last Saturday, at which the beverage of choice was slivovitza (a 60-proof plum brandy). Thank god that my experience with our Bulgarian rakia had prepared me very well for this challenge (which included my friend's dad serving us a shot each the morning after the wedding - that is, on an empty stomach and while we were still hung-over). My travels from the day after the wedding have taken me from Stara Tura (where my friend lives) to Bratislava to Vienna to Brussels (on Sunday), to NYC (on Monday), to DC (on Tue morning), to Managua (on Wednesday) and to Leon (on Thursday morning). I finally caught up on sleep last night - 11 hours straight!
This is my second glimpse into Central America (the first being a 10-day trip to Costa Rica) and there are a few things that have caught my attention in Nicaragua so far. The lush vegetation and incredible landscape (lakes, volcanoes in the distance). The level of poverty - run-down buildings, old cars (including some Soviet Ladas), U.S. inherited school buses serving as public transportation and crammed to the brim, cows, goats, and horses roaming freely by the road, people on bicycles and on foot everywhere, and I haven't really been in the rural areas yet where I am sure the poverty is even more striking. But, most of you have seen all of this in other developing countries, so I won't go into too much detail.
Leon is a striking small town with colonial architecture. The house where I'll be staying (renting a room from an old lady who spent 24 years in the US) seems quite ordinary from the outside judging by it's small entrance door. But step inside and you are transported to something from a movie set - a long, spacious, tall-ceilinged and immaculately furnished house with all common areas facing towards an inner courtyard/garden. This open space makes for a cool breeze, which is very much appreciated given the heat.
As far as the work goes. I am doing my internship with the MCC in Nicaragua, helping their Monitoring & Evaluation team. That will mostly include trying to make sense of lots of data, visiting agricultural producers in the field, and doing some data analysis - hopefully all to prove that MCC's projects in Nicaragua (which are focused in the areas of agriculture, infrastructure and property rights) have made a positive economic impact in the two regions in which they are implemented (Leon and Chinandega) in the north-western part of the country.
Hope everyone is doing well. And, as someone addicted to blogging, I encourage you all to write! :) More impressions/stories coming soon as I explore Leon this weekend.
Besos,
Denitza
This is my second glimpse into Central America (the first being a 10-day trip to Costa Rica) and there are a few things that have caught my attention in Nicaragua so far. The lush vegetation and incredible landscape (lakes, volcanoes in the distance). The level of poverty - run-down buildings, old cars (including some Soviet Ladas), U.S. inherited school buses serving as public transportation and crammed to the brim, cows, goats, and horses roaming freely by the road, people on bicycles and on foot everywhere, and I haven't really been in the rural areas yet where I am sure the poverty is even more striking. But, most of you have seen all of this in other developing countries, so I won't go into too much detail.
Leon is a striking small town with colonial architecture. The house where I'll be staying (renting a room from an old lady who spent 24 years in the US) seems quite ordinary from the outside judging by it's small entrance door. But step inside and you are transported to something from a movie set - a long, spacious, tall-ceilinged and immaculately furnished house with all common areas facing towards an inner courtyard/garden. This open space makes for a cool breeze, which is very much appreciated given the heat.
As far as the work goes. I am doing my internship with the MCC in Nicaragua, helping their Monitoring & Evaluation team. That will mostly include trying to make sense of lots of data, visiting agricultural producers in the field, and doing some data analysis - hopefully all to prove that MCC's projects in Nicaragua (which are focused in the areas of agriculture, infrastructure and property rights) have made a positive economic impact in the two regions in which they are implemented (Leon and Chinandega) in the north-western part of the country.
Hope everyone is doing well. And, as someone addicted to blogging, I encourage you all to write! :) More impressions/stories coming soon as I explore Leon this weekend.
Besos,
Denitza
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Two sinks are better than one...
Darren: Hey everyone, it’s Darren and Scott here. Greetings from rainy, dreary Brussels
Scott: Ok well I’ll take over. Hi everyone. Pleasure to be here. I just finished some push-ups in our living room. Darren has been complaining since we arrived that his guns miss the Stephens Fitness Center - I thought I’d set a good example by doing a little exercise because, let’s face it, Darren’s gained about 15 pounds since spring began and his girlish figure is beginning to suffer.
DL: *Burp* yeah, I’m drinking Mardesous Brown right now, a delightful Abbey brown of a mild 8% alcohol – slightly acidic yet with a smooth finish. Great mouthfeel. Not good for the gut though – going to need some personal training from Carlos or Keiko when I get back. Dunks and I have been drinking a different Belgian drop literally every night we’ve been here. My favourite is Kasteel Brown which weighs in at a hefty 11% alcohol - and it’s like drinking candy – you know, party in your mouth and everyone’s invited type thing.
SD: So, uh, should we talk about our “policy” experiences? For instance, I’m doing this really interesting work at NATO, you know, world leaders...
DL: Bugger that, these guys don’t want to hear about force generation or interoperability, nor do they want to know that I’ve been looking at the wall that’s been built in Western Sahara – did you guys know that there is a wall the stretches across
SD: Hmmm, and here I thought the wall was in
DL: Why would we talk about models, Scott. We. Are. Good. Policy. Students. We’re here to learn. I mean jeez, even Ledio sounds like he learned something.
SD: That’s true. Well, we can say that we had dinner with Saskia’s sister and brother-in-law.
DL: Which was lovely.
SD: Indeed. And we went to
DL: Which was lovely.
SD: Indeed. And we have two bathroom sinks.
DL: Which is lovely.
SD: Indeed.
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Microfinance: More than just a 502 memo
I´ve just returned from my second day in the field, and I realize that I take for granted how easy everything comes in the United States. Cars and reliable public transportation to bring you anywhere you need to go, set meeting times, punctuality, and reliable hours of business. Being in Nicaragua has brought me right back to my days in the Peace Corps, where a day that supposedly starts at 8:00 AM doesn´t really start until 10:00 AM; goals are a nice concept but reality never quite allows you to reach them; and the eight to ten interviews a day that you´re supposed to complete fall by the wayside as you listen to story after story of the challenges that poverty presents on a daily basis.
Consider Doña Juana, a microfinance client who fell behind on her payments with a previous institution and lost her house a result. Now she shops around from the 15 microcredit institutions available in the nearest city to find the best interest rates while she rents a wooden house with dirt floors and struggles to get her business up and running again. Or Doña Alma, who is crippled with migraines and had to abandon her business. She´s two payments behind and on the verge of losing her television, the only object that she could offer as a guarantee to her loan. Meanwhile, the interest continues to accumulate on her late payments, and when they send the lawyers after her to collect whatever they can, she´ll have to pay those costs on top of the interest, on top of the principal that she owes.
I find myself caught in the midst of the hot microfinance debate and the concept of the double bottom line: should a microfinance institution do whatever it has to do to maintain its profit margin, thus enabling it to reach a broader spectrum of clients, or should it take cuts in profits in order to accomodate the social goals that it supposedly espouses? Should microcredit be synonomous with some model of semi-compassionate capitalism? Does semi-compassionate capitalism even exist?
Meanwhile, we work 10-12 hour days to continue towards the elusive goal of reaching as many people as we can. Because the truth is, the only thing that I can actively do is listen. Ask questions. Record their responses. And present their feedback in a way that will hopefully influence FINCA International´s policies and will allow them to offer better products and services.
The idealist in me still lives. Let´s hope reality doesn´t let me down!
Consider Doña Juana, a microfinance client who fell behind on her payments with a previous institution and lost her house a result. Now she shops around from the 15 microcredit institutions available in the nearest city to find the best interest rates while she rents a wooden house with dirt floors and struggles to get her business up and running again. Or Doña Alma, who is crippled with migraines and had to abandon her business. She´s two payments behind and on the verge of losing her television, the only object that she could offer as a guarantee to her loan. Meanwhile, the interest continues to accumulate on her late payments, and when they send the lawyers after her to collect whatever they can, she´ll have to pay those costs on top of the interest, on top of the principal that she owes.
I find myself caught in the midst of the hot microfinance debate and the concept of the double bottom line: should a microfinance institution do whatever it has to do to maintain its profit margin, thus enabling it to reach a broader spectrum of clients, or should it take cuts in profits in order to accomodate the social goals that it supposedly espouses? Should microcredit be synonomous with some model of semi-compassionate capitalism? Does semi-compassionate capitalism even exist?
Meanwhile, we work 10-12 hour days to continue towards the elusive goal of reaching as many people as we can. Because the truth is, the only thing that I can actively do is listen. Ask questions. Record their responses. And present their feedback in a way that will hopefully influence FINCA International´s policies and will allow them to offer better products and services.
The idealist in me still lives. Let´s hope reality doesn´t let me down!
Monday, June 2, 2008
What is peacebuilding?
So instead of working for UNHCR in Geneva, I chose the office of Peacebuilding Support at UN headquarters in NYC. I am, of course, working in the Policy Analysis Section.
And who would have thought that 501 concepts could actually be useful?! In every single thing I do I am reminded of the importance of politics especially here at the UN. Or rather the futility of politics. We have to negotiate every single word of our reports (should it be state or declare, a political factor or an actor...) At least I dont have to use stata, I am happy to say.
Finally, I grudgingly have to accept that Bob Keohane's class with its overemphasis on theory has been freakishly pertinent to this job. Most of the colleagues I work with, for instance, seem to mull over the question of what peacebuilding means. Conventionally, building peace can mean anything really, from handing out food to security sector reform. But since we need to specify our field of action, we need to define peacebuilding as narrowly as our funding and jurisdiction will allow! Once again, politics come into play. The ambassador of XXX feels that gender work might not be peacebuilding (cue a lot of anger from female colleagues) and so on. Life at the UN in other words is very much like an international theory class, a lot of debate on semantics with little concrete results.
Next, what is truth?!
And who would have thought that 501 concepts could actually be useful?! In every single thing I do I am reminded of the importance of politics especially here at the UN. Or rather the futility of politics. We have to negotiate every single word of our reports (should it be state or declare, a political factor or an actor...) At least I dont have to use stata, I am happy to say.
Finally, I grudgingly have to accept that Bob Keohane's class with its overemphasis on theory has been freakishly pertinent to this job. Most of the colleagues I work with, for instance, seem to mull over the question of what peacebuilding means. Conventionally, building peace can mean anything really, from handing out food to security sector reform. But since we need to specify our field of action, we need to define peacebuilding as narrowly as our funding and jurisdiction will allow! Once again, politics come into play. The ambassador of XXX feels that gender work might not be peacebuilding (cue a lot of anger from female colleagues) and so on. Life at the UN in other words is very much like an international theory class, a lot of debate on semantics with little concrete results.
Next, what is truth?!
Back in the world of real work...
Today starts week three of my internship and it has been tremendous fun so far. I have realized anew just how much I enjoy working on interesting problems and being able to conceptualize them systemically. To know that my work goes further than a professor's desk is invigorating.
I am in DC for another two weeks before taking off for Mozambique and Tanzania. So far it has been a roller coaster. My project is daunting to say the least, but the people I am working with and the atmosphere is fabulous. World Wildlife Fund is at a very interesting crossroads as they try to integrate the traditional conservation focus with the realization that large-scale impact must involve the private sector (agriculture). It means we have meetings where we get together and think up every possibility we can think of for putting together complex problems like rising input costs, rising food prices, climate change variability, development pressures and opportunities etc- and coming up with creative solutions involving all the stakeholders. I am having a wonderful time and can't wait to go to the field to test some of my ideas.
It is also a fun workplace. The kindergarten in the basement regularly has "biodiversity day" where they bring in various animals (tigers, bald eagle, lemur, python, sloth, etc) that the kids and adults get to hang out with and learn about. Below are two of my workmates with a sloth.
I am in DC for another two weeks before taking off for Mozambique and Tanzania. So far it has been a roller coaster. My project is daunting to say the least, but the people I am working with and the atmosphere is fabulous. World Wildlife Fund is at a very interesting crossroads as they try to integrate the traditional conservation focus with the realization that large-scale impact must involve the private sector (agriculture). It means we have meetings where we get together and think up every possibility we can think of for putting together complex problems like rising input costs, rising food prices, climate change variability, development pressures and opportunities etc- and coming up with creative solutions involving all the stakeholders. I am having a wonderful time and can't wait to go to the field to test some of my ideas.
It is also a fun workplace. The kindergarten in the basement regularly has "biodiversity day" where they bring in various animals (tigers, bald eagle, lemur, python, sloth, etc) that the kids and adults get to hang out with and learn about. Below are two of my workmates with a sloth.
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