Monday, June 28, 2010

This I Believe

As we enter into the last month of our fellowship, some of the other GHC Fellows and me have taken some time to reflect on how your experiences this year have shaped our views on justice, health equity and life, to share them with the rest of the GHC Community. And because I love and desperately miss NPR, we decided to write them as "This I Believe" essays! Here are my thoughts; here is what I believe...

Last week I had the unbelievable opportunity to go to the World Cup in South Africa. In addition to spending a huge amount of time watching football and enjoying the atmosphere of the World Cup, we took some time out on Saturday to visit the Hector Pieterson Memorial Museum in Soweto.

Soweto is a township right outside of Jo’burg and one of the early hotbeds of resistance to the injustices of apartheid. Hector Pieterson was a 13 year-old boy who was shot and killed on June 16, 1976 when police opened fire on unarmed protesters who were marching in opposition to school being taught in the Afrikaans language.

Walking through the museum are photos, videos, personal accounts and placards describing that day. Young black children, dressed in school uniforms, lining up and walking towards white police officers holding guns. Kids running, chaos and crowds dispersing as shots were fired. A man wearing overalls carrying the lifeless body of Hector; his sister staggering, distraught beside him.

Everytime I visit a place that makes me consider the depth of human suffering caused by division in our world and the strength of human courage to stand against those divisions, it makes me thing one thing: Where would I have been in this situation? Where would I have been in Soweto? Where would I have been during Apartheid? Would I have had the courage to resist Afrikaner domination? Or would I have kept quite because I was afraid of getting in trouble or of getting hurt. Where would I have been in Rwanda during the Genocide? Where would I have been during the Civil Rights Movement in the United States or colonialism in Africa or the struggle to abolish slavery? Where am in today’s unresolved questions of injustice?

Reflecting on my year as a Global Health Corps Fellow I have no easy answers about the injustices that plague our world. If anything, I have a greater appreciation for the complexity and confoundedness of issues like health equity and poverty alleviation. But something I do still have, something deep down inside of me, is the conviction that in the face of injustice and inequality in our world we do have to find the courage to fight against it. We do have to stand up. We do have to say it’s wrong. We do have to find our voice.

Because injustice will always be in the world, and the only thing that can stop it, or change it, is for people to come together and create a new path. But in order to do that, I think the critical step (and the one we often miss) is realizing that we have to be united. We have to come together, talk to each other, listen, and commit to working together towards a common goal. We have to be willing to give up some of our personal vision for the collective goal and we have to be willing to sacrifice individual gain for group success. We have to be willing to stand in solidarity with one another.

I have no easy answers about how to solve the problems of health inequality or any other injustice in the world. But as I’ve lived and worked in Tanzania this year, I’ve become increasingly convinced that the only tenable path forward is the one that calls for deep and profound solidarity. Not simply with people in poverty or facing injustice. But with all people.

Solidarity to realize we are all members of the same human family. Solidarity to know that suffering for some cannot be allowed in exchange for a benefit to few. Solidarity to say I am not always right. Solidarity to give up some of what I have to stand up what you do not have. Solidarity to let believing in something better cost you something.

I don’t pretend that philosophical discussions on solidarity and “togetherness in the human family” alone will solve the problems in injustice in our world. But I do think that if we don’t consider these questions, and struggle with them every day or our lives, then we will never solve problems of injustice.

Because no one wakes up one day and becomes a hero for social justice. We all make a million little decisions, everyday, about the people we are going to be and the lives we are going to lead. And all those small little decisions, actions and thoughts are what add up to the fabric of our moral character and courage. If I want to be the kind of person that marched with Hector Pieterson in Soweto, then I need to be the kind of person who can stand up against the little injustices I see happening everyday. And if I can’t find common ground with the people in my immediate sphere that I do not understand or agree with, then how will I ever bridge the immense cultural, economic and social divides intrinsic in working in the global health field?

What I’ve learned this year, and what I believe, is that who you are matters. What you do on a daily basis, the way you treat people, the extent to which you stand with people and care about them and love them and respect them, matters. It matters because if we are going to strive for solidarity in the human family to fight against injustice, we need to practice it daily, with the people in our own lives. And it matters because if we’re going to find the courage to end inequalities, we need to find the commitment and patience to work together.

I hope that if I had been in Soweto in 1976 I would have been at that march with Hector. I hope I would have had enough strength and moral integrity to go by myself. But, if all of my friends, who cared about standing up for freedom and equality, had been willing to go with me that day? Then I know, without a doubt, that I would have been there. I know, in solidarity, I could have done it.

Friday, June 25, 2010

This is...The World's Cup

Last weekend I had the absolutely amazing opportunity to go to the World Cup in South Africa.  How I swung this on a fellow's stipend has mostly to do with my awesome friend Kate's willingness to turn her apartment into a make-shift hostel for her football-lovin' friends from around the world.  Kate is currently living in Johannesburg working on HIV/AIDS outreach and prevention around the World Cup, which you can read all about here

So on Friday morning, Andrew and I arrived in Jo'burg, were picked up by Kate in her spirited little car, known as "The Tazz", and met up with the rest of Kate's friends in town for the World Cup to make our way to Ellis Park for the USA vs Slovenia game.  Video 1 below is right before the game and Video 2 is right after the US's second goal against Slovenia (sorry for the bad videography skills...some snarky Slovenians were trying to get by me RIGHT AFTER THE GOAL. Hello, a little respect please!)

Now, there is much I could say about the awesome-ness of being in South Africa...the feeling of being cold, the availability of cheese, the presence of stop lights.  But, I won't.  Besides the relative luxuries of being in a developed (or at least partly developed) country, what was most amazing about being in South Africa, was simply the chance to be at the World Cup.  People from all over the world, coming together to paint their faces, dress up in ridiculous outfits, blow on vuvuzelas (which I was informed on my flight home by South African Airways, are illegal to blow on a plane. fyi.), and live and die cheering for their team in a 90 minute game.  On a continent that sees so much suffering and hardship, getting to see people cheer for something, anything, is pretty special.  But getting to see Africans cheer for their teams, in their favorite sport, on their soil, for the first time ever...that was once in a lifetime. 



Thursday, June 17, 2010

Famous

For those of you who are not regular Fox News views (shock, awe..does anyone not watch Fox News?? Apparently), you missed seeing GHC featured a few days ago, along with some truly terrible video footage of me from when we'd just arrived. (Thanks Andrew).

Check it out here, or watch GHC Co-Founder Barbra Bush's interview on CNN!

Wednesday, June 16, 2010

Finding Rhythm

There are these beautiful moments you have in life…where suddenly everything aligns into a perfect little burst of happiness. A gorgeous, zen experience, tinged in golden light. They are the moments, as my friend Emily said once, that make you smile when you’re standing in line at the grocery store. They keep you laughing, and maybe even at times, if you live in Africa, keep you sane.

But there are other moments too…bleak, lonely, dark or sad ones. Moments you’d rather forget; moments that can make you face yourself and your limits in a way even you didn’t know was possible.

And then there is every other moment in between.

For a lot of my life I’ve tried to find balance in the middle of this spectrum. I think most people do. You look for ways to mitigate going too far down the “bad” side or resist venturing too far on the “good” side so that any one experience won’t be able to send you careening too far across the continuum. And even if you yourself can’t keep a center, there are all sorts of other relationships and support structures and systems that actually work to shield you from too much chaos on either side.

And that’s wise. There’s a lot of merit in finding that equilibrium. The thing is, it just doesn’t exist here. Well, not really. It’s not that there isn’t a sense of normalcy and ‘balance’ to life here, it’s just that your (or my) ability to mitigate the highs and lows is so clearly and hopelessly beyond my control in so many instances here that after awhile you get used to the idea that you’re not in charge.

As I was running yesterday, looking up at the emerald patchwork of the Uluguru Mountains, and thinking about some recent highs and lows here, it struck me that I was really thankful for all of those experiences…the good, the hard, the challenging, the amazing and everything in between. Because it might be wild and it might be a bit chaotic, but it feels like living to me. It feels full and colorful and exciting and well, good. And that feels good. It feels amazing.

Being forced to surrender my ability to control things and having to let go of my desire to keep myself in the middle of the ‘moments’ continuum has pushed me far this year; sometimes farther than I’d like to go. But it’s made me realize I don’t have to fear the bad moments in life so much. And it has helped me to be braver in not missing out on embracing the really big good moments just because I’m worried the crash back down will be too rough. It’s made me more comfortable with the idea that a lot of life happens on the margins of the spectrum and if you spend all your energy trying to stay in the middle, you miss out on a lot.

I’m not saying that we should all embrace a bi-polar lifestyle, but rather that being here has helped teach me that there is a rhythm to those ups and downs…and in life if you can let yourself go enough to dance to that beat, it’s a beautiful song. The lovely moments make you glad to be alive and the sad ones remind you that you have lived and cared well.

And that’s exactly how I feel about my time here in Tanzania…like it is one big wild, vibrant burst of color and sound, that sometimes is pitch perfect and sometimes misses a beat, but overall has developed into a rhythm that I love to move to and has become my favorite song.

Fieldi

(if you don’t know how to say something in Swahili, just add an “i” onto the end of the English word.  That’ll get you pretty close). 

Last Wednesday night, around 1am we finally rolled back into Morogoro, after having been in Ngorongoro (not to be confused with each other) for two weeks doing field research.  In development/health circles, you hear the term “field” a lot… so and so is in the field, he/she went to the field, when will you be back from the field? 

The field is a term that collectively refers to anywhere but your home office.  If you work in the head country office in Dar, then going to one of the regional offices in, say, Kilwa, is “the field”.  If you live in Kilwa then going out to the bush to visit health facilities is “the field”.  The field is a mystical and wonderful place that people are constantly disappearing to in Tanzania.  You get the feeling it’s a little bit like going to the restroom at work…sometimes you go because you have a reason, sometimes you just want to get away from your desk for a bit.  That is “the field”. 

For the greater part of the last month I have been in the field, first in Kibaha and then Ngorongoro, with Clement and another colleague, Esron.  Esron is a senior lecturer here at Sokoine University (where SACIDS is based) and the principal investigator (i.e. person in charge) of the mobile technology project that we were collecting data for. 

During our trip, what we were doing was essentially visiting every ward (sort of like a county) in the two districts of Kibaha and Ngorongoro to collect data on human and animal health resources.  We collected the data on cool smart phone mobile phones, which we then used to upload the data to the internet, where it was stored and mapped.  We also took GPS coordinates for a number of animal health-related sites (like dip tanks, crushes, watering points).  A LOT of animal health sites.  The words: “there are just two more crushes”, will forever haunt me.  But, if you happen to want to know where the marketplace is for cows in Olbalbal, or a water trough in bufu Endulen…I can help you with that.

Times out in the field are a unique and, generally, great experience.  Besides the obvious awesomeness of getting to be out of the office, for a muzungo like me, it’s an amazing chance to see and experience everyday life in Tanzania.  You sleep in bare-bones guesthouses, you take bucket showers, you get bruises from hitting the side of the Land Cruiser so hard and so often on insanely bad roads and you eat chipati and drink chai made by Tanzanian mamas in every single little town, outpost and dusty village.  (and if your me, you eat very little else, since being a vegetarian is a bit of an anomaly in beef-eating-maasai country.) 

On this last trip, we had our share of “glitches”, from car breakdowns to food poisoning (that was me) to livestock development officers who wanted nothing more than to ride around in our car all day while we GPS’ed every spring, brook and puddle that passed for an “animal watering point” in Soit Sambu.  But, in the end, I know the weeks I’ve spent out in the field in Tanzania will be some of my favorite memories here.  Getting to see this beautiful country, test out my Swahili, and be the only white person for millllllles around traveling with 3 Tanzanian men is a pretty unique experience.  Not everyone gets to do that and I am really grateful that I’ve been able to. 

A few pictures from our recent time in the infamous “field” (in this case, Ngorongoro):

Clem and I in Olbalbal, Ngorongoro

Maasai! Endulen, Ngorongoro


One of those endless crushes. Nainokanoka, Ngorongoro


From Tanzania Life

Clement and Esron, just after pushing our car to get it started so we could head home from Arusha

Friday, June 11, 2010

Mary Goes to Africa - Reflections by MJB

A few reflections from my mom on her recent (and epic) trip to Africa....

My daughter Angie who has always been adventuresome accepts a fellowship w/GHC after completing her Masters in June 2009. Since this would be Angie's 4th trip to Africa - I was happy for her and really not worried.  The program seemed to be something she was very interested in and was certainly in her field.   The main concern I had was that she would be gone for one full year.   So what does a parent do - but make plans to come and visit her.  I was encouraged by Angie and Nick( her brother who was also  making the trip) that  the trip would be less stressful if I did would  tone down how much I  brought with me , to wear minimal make up, no hair dryers or curling iron. So I obliged.   

All year we talked about the trip -but in late January plans started to materialize.  Angie sent us a Tanzanian Guide Book for Christmas and she tried to prepare us for the different culture and sights we would see.  She noted that the people were the same as us -working at jobs, having a life and doing what is best for our families - just that they were on the other side of the world.  

As the time grew closer I was getting so excited - FOR ONE THING to see Angie!!!  The week before we left - I made myself really focus at work - and at home at nite.  I knew if I did not I would not be able to sleep!!  In hindsight I should have done more homework to prepare myself for the changes I would see.

So off we flew on Saturday April 3rd for a trip of a lifetime!! What a JOY it was to see Angie!  But to be very honest- I was not prepared for the cultural shock I would experience. (And it is not that Angie did not try to prepare me)  I'm sure everyone knows about the lost luggage with my mental health medicine & the extended stay due to the volcano. However the trip was very memorable - we had many ups, downs, challenges and opportunities. But we went through them together as a family and came out closer and stronger.  

These are the things I would to share that I learned about Africa:

* The work that Angie and the GHC Fellows are doing is not for the faint of heart.
*  Angie's world is much bigger  than mine but I am so fortunate to  have her as my daughter    so I  can continue to grow and broaden my world.
* The country of Tanzania is beautiful and full of culture.  I especially liked the Indian Ocean and of course the Safari area.
* The people of Tanzania - are very kind and welcoming, along with being hard working and resourceful.  I was also drawn to their sense of style and dress.
*   We are blessed with so much in the US - yet we complain and whine.
* I did just fine with out the makeup and extra clothes - in fact it was a lot more relaxing.

I’d like to say I came back a changed person. I am so grateful to live in the US.  I hope I will continue to have a grateful attitude for all that I have. I look forward to the next journey Angie takes me on. Next time I will carry my medicine on board with me and do more homework before I go!