So more about this project!

MI is in fact a Canadian organization based in Ottawa. They are running a variety of food fortification activities around the world, supporting vitamin and mineral supplementation programs where malnutrition is taking its toll on the most vulnerable populations. MI has been working closely with governments of developing countries to encourage the adoption of laws enforcing fortification in widely consumed products (think of iodized salt in Canada). In addition, MI has joined forces with a UNICEF immunization program against polio in Africa to provide strong doses of vitamin A to the children during administration of their shots. A home food supplementation program was implemented in India, through which mothers of households themselves are responsible for addition of a micronutriment concentrate to the family meals. In Malawi, yet another method of food fortification was successfully set up in small scale mills during cereal processing. MI is currently looking at the technical and social feasibility of the last two methods through the pilot project that Diallo and I are leading. The results of our study will influence the direction of the project when it is expanded to a national scale.

Engineers Without Borders hence got involved in a nutrition project by association. Since three of us short-term volunteers were sent to MFP Mali for the summer, and that there was a need for support in this partner project, it only seemed logical to send of one the three. The pilot project was divided into two phases, held in different regions of Mali. Purely to satisfy your curiosity, a region in Mali is basically the equivalent of a province in Canada, and there are 6 of them. The first phase of the project was held in the dry, sandy Mopti region and was originally scheduled to last two months. The second phase is also scheduled to last two months, but will be held in green, lush Sikasso. OK, I may have been a little generous with the word "lush", but the sight of a green field after living in the Sahel is truly breathtaking. So I joined the project on the fourth month, just in time to catch the end of the first phase in good old Sévaré. Cherchez l'erreur. Bingo! We were already two months behind.

Now, in practise, what this means is that I got the chance to tag along for a few visits with Diallo in some villages surrounding Sévaré. Diallo had a tight schedule to follow, and had a lot of pressure to complete the first phase in Sévaré, so we never really took the time to go through the “What?”, “Why?” and “How?” of the project together. It may seem a little ironic that we couldn’t take a day to cover the basics considering that the timetable had already been stretched by two months at that point. Indeed, that nearly drove me insane. I am extremely curious and analytical by nature, therefore when I am put in a situation where my questions find no answers, I become extremely restless.

As soon as Diallo came into the office in the morning, we would hop on his motorbike to head for the villages and we would only finish work very late, sometimes past dusk. Needless to say, a motorbike is not the best environment to discuss my questions - or anything for that matter. And our time in the villages was reserved for formalities with the villagers and going through one mean questionnaire. It was particularly difficult for me to do these follow-ups with clients at the MFP, and also those households who had tried the individually wrapped version of the vitamins, without having been present for the introduction, education and distribution activities.

I truly enjoyed the village visits, mostly because my eyes could not absorb enough of the typical African scenes: the colorful clothes and buckets, the half-naked children, the old men sitting and chatting on cow skins, the straw roofs, the charcoal fire boiling some sweet green tea, a man in the shade performing traditional medicine on a suffering woman, the little chicks running between my feet, and I could go on and on… The interviews with the beneficiaries all occurred in Bambara, but the questions on my paper were all in French. The good part is that I knew what we were asking, but alas I could only pick up a word or two in the answer. I very much disliked the questionnaire, I knew that much. What a lame and limiting way to get people’s input! And how impersonal is it carry on a conversation over a piece of blinding white paper that clearly clashes with the environment I described earlier? I was still in observation and learning mode, and of course at this stage it was better to keep all these reflections to myself. I remember picking up wise advice from a past Junior Fellow who warned me from speaking up too fast…

Not even a week after I joined Diallo on this project, after visiting five villages or so, we had completed phase I. Diallo then left for Bamako on a 2-day trip to pick up the vitamins for the subsequent phase of the project to be held in Sikasso. He left me with some data entering, in other words countless questionnaires for me to capture in an Excel sheet. At this point I was thinking that it was too bad for me to have acted strictly as his secretary – a very sharp, inquisitive and nosy one, mind you – up until this point. I have some serious trust building to do indeed, and I realize that doing the bitch work (excuse my language) would do just that, but I do need to show certain competencies if I ever want to have a chance to contribute where I really want to make a difference.

My thought process in this case was that I was better off doing some mindless computing and taking the time to reflect carefully on my questions and problems with this whole project (and questionnaire!). I made a deal with Diallo that the time I was saving him should go towards a thorough Q & A session with me upon his return. And then he ended up being gone for 10 days… Ha! He returned to a five page document on my reflections and questions regarding the objectives and workings of the project. That’s what you get for leaving me unattended for too long! We were already in Sikasso by the time we ran through this document together. He realized that he was unsure of many of the answers, so we forwarded this monster to his boss with a nice introduction on who I am and another section on what EWB interns are out to accomplish, in case he was unclear on that. It’s surprising how misleading the term Engineers Without Borders can be sometimes, but I won't get into that. Anyways, a few days later, I found a reply in my inbox with a message from Diallo’s boss, informing us that he had worked on the answers with his own boss in Johannesburg, South Africa. Some answers were ok. But he insured us that they were impressed and encouraged by the serious thought and involvement that had been expressed. It felt like I got a test mark back and that there was a little star sticker at the top corner. But it all sure was nice substitute after bathing in confusion for over two weeks!

First impressions of Sévaré

Seconds after we pulled into Mike’s yard in Sévaré, it started pouring. This was the very first and much needed rain of the season for the area. The next morning we woke up and Mike introduced us to his friends and family in the neighborhood. They were all so kind and welcoming. Many of them thanked us for bringing the rain, so I couldn’t help but feel a little concerned. You need to understand that until that point I had only heard blames and thanks addressed directly to Allah for good and bad fortunes! But it took no time for me to catch on and realize that when mentioned jokingly, this was nothing but a passport to their good side, so I started bringing it up on my own.

I met up with a crew of lively, intelligent young men who live in the yard across from Mike’s place. It turns out this is where Levi stayed for about a year during his long-term volunteer placement with the MFP project. In fact Levi had left in early June and was kind enough to pay rent until the end of the month, so I quickly took the opportunity and moved in within days of my arrival. But on this very first day, as I was chatting up with my future neighbors and taking in all this teasing about my horrible choice for a last name (the cousin thing again), I started feeling a little weak. My head started turning and my body started sweating in places it never had before. In fact, I can now confirm that our bodies are entirely covered in sweat glands. I barely had time to tell Mike that I wasn’t feeling well, and I was gone! I lost it completely. A white curtain completely blinded my vision and all sounds became somewhat muffled. They sat me down and made me drink lots of water. I was back up and running within the hour, handwashing my entire wardrobe and what not, but still, way to make a good first impression!

(Home sweet home)

The first week back at the office was rather slow. I was really anxious to find out what my project would be for the summer, but all activities at the office revolved around summarizing and reporting on the Bamako workshop that we all attended over the past week. I was a bit amused at this review of a review of a review of the program. I thought we would have been ready to move on, but I was clearly mistaken. When they talk about capitalization, I guess they are truly sincere about learning from past weaknesses and successes. The following week, all of us volunteers were called in individually to have a word with the accountant. He presented us with fifteen thousand francs CFA each. This translates directly into about 30 Canadian dollars, but I must specify a non negligible caveat. The purchasing power of those 30 dollars is much greater than in Canada. You can feed yourself for a week in Canada with that amount if you skip the caviar, but someone in Mali can easily be fed for month.

Back to my awkward moment with the accountant. I was explained that this sum was a bonus for attending the meeting, and that all meetings held at the office are subsidized in this fashion. I politely excused myself and explained that I had come here as a volunteer, that I couldn’t accept this kind of money, and so on… I could only think of the few attendees who were snoozing away through the meetings, while others were playing cards on their laptops. And that day they were thanked with a month’s worth of the “official” poor person’s income (according to the dollar-a-day indicator). How unfair! Now I don’t know how much of this information I should be sharing, but there are days when I need to get things off my chest. I am familiar with the potential of the rumor mill, but I also hope that I am not mistaken with its limits. If you can read between the lines, you will understand that practices like this I cannot challenge, and therefore that you shouldn’t tell my coworkers about my dislike of the process!

Finally, a week later, there was an opening in the schedule of the great boss, and we were given the chance to sit down to discuss the projects that us three short-term volunteers would be assigned. I came prepared to explain why I wanted to work with the Micronutriment Initiative (MI), which is in fact a partner of the MFP project. There was very little arguing and discussion about my placement. All seemed very satisfied and unanimous at the need for an assistant for Diallo, who is heading a pilot project solo in the area with disappointing results. I was up for the challenge, and extremely excited at the thought of working on a nutrition project being the fake engineer who really should have gone into health sciences anyways.

But that day I had my mind stuck on the work term report that I would be required to write at the end of the summer for my University. I was once explained that the technical content of our reports should increase from one term to the next as we progress with our learning. I put that one worry aside and decided that I would take up the challenge only if and when it came up. I can always give my report a bit of a consultancy twist… These days I am more concerned with facing fun questions upon my return. I can hear it already: “EWB’s mission statement is to promote human development through access to technology… So why were you working on a vitamin project?”. Argh! Might as well ask why I chose to go into engineering.

Another quick editorial… I simply wanted to announce the next few chapters of my blog and take this opportunity to apologize for the way I am posting in large, irregular chunks. Hopefully I will be able to be more consistent as my life takes a new shape and pace in Southern Mali, more precisely in Sikasso. I am full of energy these days and am very excited at the thought of sharing all of my adventures, frustrations and reflections with you.

I spoke with about 20 Engineers Without Borders chapter members back in Waterloo during a conference call earlier this week. I told them how I was living a trip down memory lane because I was sitting precisely where they were about a year ago during the 2005 conference call to our overseas volunteers thinking “Wow! I really want to do this”. Actually, don’t get me wrong. Going overseas with EWB had been on my list for much longer than that. For those of you not familiar with my list of things that I want to accomplish before I die, let’s just say that it’s long, strong and certainly not getting any shorter… But it is so motivating to find out that if you want something bad enough and you’re willing to work hard for it, you can check the occasional item off the list. Oops snap back to reality, I can’t wait but feel a lack of humility now for writing such a statement.

Great, so let me all welcome you into a dead end, or U-turn if you will, of the depths of my brain. Let me explain this change of mind as an example. You see, during our spare time, Engineers Without Borders folks will spend extended periods of time trying to define complex terms like international development and poverty. And the word opportunity (or lack thereof), always finds its way in the definition. So I will judge myself openly and admit that I’m a self absorbed loser for even thinking something like “if you want something bad enough and you put in some hard work, you can make anything happen”, given my particular setting. I am surrounded daily by people of unmatched will who work harder than I could ever conceive before stepping on Malian ground. And because of the conditions of extreme poverty in which they were born and raised, though certainly not by choice, lack of opportunity will likely prevent the majority of these amazing people from checking that special dream off their list. Thanks for letting me share this… I rarely get carried away with optimism, and well, I just remembered why.

So before I got on this tangent, I was in the process of telling you how well I am doing after that phone call. The French West African retreat also contributed to this uncontained motivation. It took place last weekend, in the Pays Dogon, which is the number one tourist attraction in Mali (yeah, I know, I also thought it would have been the camel races of Timbuktu). A retreat in EWB terms means taking some time off with other members to capitalize on past activities and plan for upcoming ones, with a little bit of fun (read: nonstop fun) sandwiched somewhere in there.

I therefore met with the eleven other Engineers Without Borders volunteers from Mali and Burkina Faso for three days of learning, sharing and fun. Wow, I think I just succeeded in making our weekend seem really really tacky! But seriously, I had a blast and found a lot of energy there with loads of great advice to help me stay on track for the next two months. The weekend involved a fair share of beer, guitar playing, French talking and no Canada Day celebrating what-so-ever. Are you surprised? How in the world do a bunch of Quebec separatists make their way to Africa with Engineers Without Borders Canada? They’re engineers alright, but what part of “Without Borders” and “Canada” don’t they understand? Haha just kidding. And I never got a chance to tease because it was on our list of self imposed rules of the retreat not to get on the topic of Quebec separation. Ok enough, so where was I? Right! Sévaré.