Shacking Up in the Slum - Pt. I of III

If I went home today, I would have to tell you that my fellowship has been a failure, as amazing as it has been. Maybe “incomplete” is a fairer evaluation. I think I am getting a pretty good handle on the tools – sustainable or not – to fight poverty. But in terms of my other goal – to understand poverty – I score a big incomplete. What good is understanding the instruments available if you don’t have a grasp of the problem?

I want to know what it’s like to be poor, and the countless interviews and endless readings I’ve done only get me halfway. The best way to close the gap, I think, is to live with the poor, but this far I’ve found this very difficult to arrange. Our social circles generally don’t overlap, and language is a considerable barrier.

That’s why it was very fortunate that I met Patricia (pictured), who I met when we stopped for drinks at a shebeen (an unlicensed neighborhood drinking establishment). I remembered from our conversation that her mother had passed away and she had an empty room. So, on Thursday, in the pouring rain, I walked to her front door, full of trepidation. God I was nervous. This was the first time I’d invited myself over to someone’s house since my best friend in middle school. Okay, high school. She wasn’t there. I went to Nessie’s shebeen across the street, where we had hung out the day before, and found her there. She agreed to my offer of 70 rand a night, which is what a hostel would’ve cost me. For the next three days I got to live with the locals, doing pretty much what they did. Doing my laundry, bathing the "South African way" (bucket of water and washcloth), sharing meals, and drinking…a lot.

After putting my bags up at Patricia’s (whose real name is Nomthandazo, or Thandi for short), I joined them back at Nessie’s for some Hansa, the beer of choice for Motsoaledi, the slum I was in. A little later Siphiwe, the tour guide from the day before and local resident, took me to three of his favorite bars. It was the beginning of a friendship. At the bars I found instant celebrity. I was introduced to all of Siphiwe’s good friends, and it seemed like there wasn’t a minute when less than two people were trying to talk to me at once. Giving the incumbent pool shark a run for his money didn’t hurt my reputation either. Siphiwe, I noticed, didn’t drink the entire night.

Soweto

How have things - race relations, poverty, the economy - developed since the end of apartheid? To answer this question, it's impossible to avoid Soweto, the name which became an amalgamation of "South Western Townships". Established in 1904, Soweto was the epicenter of black resistance during apartheid. Its Vilakazi Street is the only street to boast two Nobel Peace Prize winners - Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu.

I wanted to get a feel for what life was like there, and ended up with something closer to groping. You'll better understand why in the next post, but first I need a short lead in.

I tagged onto a couple people at my hostel who happen to disdain museums and just want to interact locals. Perfect. Did I mention I love hostels? The tour was informational and a good start, and led to an important lead which I'll discuss in the next post, but the short hour in the slum wasn't overly revealing. The end, though, led us to Kliptown, the oldest section of Soweto and the birthplace of the 1955 Freedom Charter.

Here we were led to the Soweto Kliptown Youth (SKY) center. When we entered, some 50 children were doing a coordinated dance and song, the power of which gave me goosebumps and send shivers up my spine. It was amazing to see such happiness amidst gripping poverty. I think about this often - the smiles on the faces of poor that seem to trump anything I've seen in the States. Perhaps it's just because I'm analyzing things closer here, and perhaps these smiles are just mirages of frustration and sadness that they won't reveal easily, but still I was impressed.

As I am traveling uninhibited during these two weeks - no laptop, no certain places to lay my head, and no upfront plan, I brought my bag along with me, looking for a place to stay somewhere near the slum. Finding out that SKY allows people to stay, I jumped at the opportunity. Concerning the cost, I asked Bob, the director and easy-going Rastafarian who I swear is the reincarnation of Bob Marley. He said, "It's not about the money; it's about the soul connection." At that moment "No Woman, No Cry" started playing the background and the faint smell of ganja could be detected in the air.

For the rest of the night I hung out with all the children (and young men/women) learning about where they came from and SKY. The interesting thing about SKY is that they are more famous abroad than in Soweto. Take for example their ties with the NBA. Every year for a week they host the likes of Dirk Nowitzki, Dikembe Mutombo, and Dwight Howard. Victor, who I talked with, starred in HBO movie named Ithuteng and is pals with Chris Tucker.

The next morning, shortly before the breakfast of white bread and French fries (I said I wanted local, and that's what I got...it's best to put the fries in the bread, topped with cheese and ketchup, and consume like a sandwich), there was bathing time. 10 minutes after asking about a shower, Wise Man, in whose bed I was sleeping, plopped down a plastic basin of water. I asked if I should take it into the bathroom, which left him perplexed. We were both looked at each other like dumb freshmen in a graduate level course. Pretty confused. When I finally explained I thought I would be using the "bucket method" (which would've been luxury), he said no, "you can learn to bath the South African way." The "South African way", I learned, is basically a bucket of water, always in your room, that you use with a wash cloth as you stand naked. How you are supposed to rinse your body with the same water that rinses the wash cloth I have still yet to figure out. Washing (and properly rinsing) is light years beyond me. I asked Wise Man if he had a wash cloth, and as if he or anyone else had never taken a bath, he starts searching through the dusty boxes of donated clothes in his room. A couple minutes later he came up with a small, dirty rag. It would do, though I can't tell you if I actually got cleaner or dirtier after that exercise. Next, on to the real immersion...

South African Sidewalks

Packed into a seat next to a passenger overflowing into my seat, I endured the 9-hour ride and a Madea Goes to Jail movie that was on repeat, finally arriving in Johannesburg, South Africa at about 3:30 in the a.m. I'd been on the fence about going to South Africa because of the high standard of living (I didn't want to be back in the US), but the political and racial history and how it relates to poverty was too intriguing to pass up. (The pic, by the way, is nuses seen in the apartheid museum...it's blurred because the museum workers were yelling at me that pictures weren't allowed...whoops...and I was pulling away, but I think it's kinda stylistic as it is)

My good friend and former cross country teammate Thomas Davis, in a wonderful article, points out the many different definitions of poverty, and how insecurity from high levels of crime can serious affect standards of living. Having more money probably doesn’t mean as much in a place where your mobility is curtailed, where you fear being robbed every time you go out. Hence my decision to skip Cape Town - which is further away and a place I’ll probably visit in the future - and start in Joburg, the crime capital of the world. I’ve heard too many stories of cloned credit cards, car jackings, and warnings just short of “You will die.” Sounds fun.

I wanted to feel what it was like, and feel I did. After a first night at Diamond Diggers (DD) hostel, I went for a run to the left, heeding warnings of the hostel owner. DD has the unique position of being right on the edge of wealthy suburban Joburg and the poverty-stricken industrial center.

The first thing I noticed were the sidewalks – uncracked, unobstructed…a first since being back in the States. Manicured lawns and canopied streets were the backdrop for razor wire and electrical fencing, stark reminders of the criminal threat.

The next day I went right (I’m an ambi-turner). Skipping over potholed and half-destroyed sidewalks, I was immediately surrounded by liquor stores, auto repair shops, and abandoned warehouses. However, the people were friendly, telling me to “keep it up” and helping me with directions when I found myself lost. The next morning I went back for more.

After the run that day – Thursday if you’re counting – I rode a local minibus into the center of town, the “no-go zone”, to just walk around and chat with people. I had some breakfast on the street, watching people go by. I ended up talking with a legal street DVD seller named Jabu. I was excited to see this, and hear him rationalize to me that we need to support actors and producers. The 42 year-old father of five lamented to me that before he was a carpenter, but because of the cheap foreign labor, he has lost his business and no longer employs his two employees. Cheap temporary laborers from Zambia, Mozambique, and other nearby countries, he said, are willing to work at a fraction of the price of locals. That money will mean much more back home. “These foreigners, they’re killing us. They’re killing us,” he said. This job/labor problem would be a recurring them, I've found. After an hour of talking and striking up a friendship, I told him I would contact him when I was in hometown of Soweto, the historic apartheid township and my next stop.

So far, the South African natives have been extremely kind to me, and rarely did I feel insecure. Certainly, I was only in the center of town once, not a 100 times – something might happen then. And the racial matters seem to be quite improved from what I’ve heard from people. But something I just couldn’t get out of my head was that if we are always looking, walking - and running - the other way, never mingling, will racial differences ever be eliminated?

Out of Office Reply: Guess Where I'm Going...

Wow. The only thing going faster than time lately has been my cash on the weekends. After a long week of trying to pull every little thing together and countless edits (thanks to all those who helped), I gave my final presentation and handed over a 40-page report on my work. From what I understand, it went well enough, and they are pretty pleased (that's me with the head of R&D at TechnoServe, Higino...he's basically a rock star...just go to the mall with him and you'll see he knows everyone). When it gets finalized and released by TechnoServe, I'll let you check it out. Now, after a weekend of celebrations (but honestly, which weekend isn't?), and three months of pretty solid work. I'm ready to get out of this bubble.

The insight into aid-development, large-scale poverty alleviation, and business-based approaches I've gained has been amazing, but beyond all of this is the enormous detachment I've felt from the local population and what reality is for the majority of Mozambicans. Here I am staying at a three-star hotel, buffet breakfast, going AC-to-AC everyday with a driver, working 10 hours a day on a laptop speaking all English all the time. I've fallen into the (very small) expat circle, going to Sunday night local music concerts, and chatting ad nauseam about everything US and the good, bad and ugly of Mozambique. The only respite I get is when I travel in the local minibuses or go out to eat by myself, and since I'm pretty cheap I usually hit the roadside stalls. This kind of stuff is pretty much out of the question for most of my Western-wage-earning friends here.

Being abroad this long (8 months now??), you long for some stability or normal routine - somewhere that you know your footing. You want to know where you can grab a beer or some cheap good food, instead of going on a mad hunt everyday. But now, I'm tired of this stability. I'm ready to get dirty, be uncomfortable, and run into awkward situations (that's kind of the definition of my life, but we're going to try to take it to a new level). So I'm off. I'm not going to tell you where until I get there and find a computer, which could be in a day or two, so I welcome your guesses. Bonus points if you guess the city.

Don't Bring the Power to the People?

Decentralization is a key part of Mozambique’s strategy to reduce poverty…To improve governance and accountability, the government should empower communities as local agents of change.

--Beating the Odds: Sustaining Inclusion in a Growing Economy, World Bank, 2008

Sounds good. I found this digging through one of many (insert sarcastic tone) enormously fascinating World Bank papers while researching for my TechnoServe paper. As an American and staunch believer in democracy, I love to hear this kind of stuff. I mean, if you get past the cult of personality, what do you think the average Cuban would have said about whether to overthrow Castro back in the day? What would a regular Zimbabwaen say about Mugabe and the power he wields from his office in Harre? Let’s spread the power out, bring it closer to the people. Empowerment, right?

Wrong. Maybe. I’ll admit, these are just a few pieces of anecdotal evidence, but when my American friend, who will remain unnamed but we’ll call Ben, told me what he experienced in a government planning session, I was quite shocked, and it got me thinking.

Ben, who works for the Ministry of Development & Planning, went to Xai Xai (pronounced “shy shy”) to help with the three year budgetary planning for 2010 – 2012. Mind you, Xai Xai is in the bordering province to the capital Maputo AND we’re already in the new year AND this is the provincial not district government, so one would think the officials had already done some prep work and Ben was just coming along to finish the job. One would think, and one would be wrong. When I asked him how Xai Xai was, he basically said something to the extent of “That place is f****ed for the next 100 years, or at least as long as I’m alive.” He sadly related the provincial government to his sister’s high school. She went to a mediocre high school in Omaha, and he surmised that the middle 50% of her class, not even the top quarter, would do a better job than the people he met with there. When Ben tried working with them in Excel to figure out how they got certain numbers, they pulled out their cell phone calculators.

Not only had they not really done anything, but as Ben explained, they “didn’t budget for anything that would provide any public good.” It was all for things for the office. Either they wanted AC or new computers – things that would ‘help them do their job’. At one point he saw they had budgeted 1,800,000 meticais (or $60,000) for a new office vehicle. He brought up the fact that this sum would buy a Mercedes SUV, but seemed to be the only crazy one in the room.

Sitting around the pool one weekend at Clube Naval, this development topic came up, and I haven’t heard people rip into local government quite like these experienced development workers did. When I was doing interviews in Nampula, I talked with the District Administrator, who was happy to report that with the new decentralization in the past two years, they had been given $300,000 to use for community projects. Only later did I learn from a local that these ‘community projects’ become homes and other pet projects for the higher ups in the district government., rather than engines for job creation.

This last point, to me, is compelling. Personally, I have always envisioned corruption on the grand scale, stuff like embezzlement, Swiss banks, and the prime minister. But it seems it might be more widespread on the local level, where oversight is thin. In local government, as Ben explained, things like building a house for the provincial doctor are legitimate expenses. Houses, cars, trips - all fair game. Jobs for friends happen all the time.

But beyond the corruption question, what if local governments simply aren’t ready for decentralization? I’m not espousing Communism, but maybe top-down planning has had something to do with China’s success. Their local governments may be inept, the country knows it, and the guys at the top are quite sharp. Ben admitted he was twiddling his thumbs in Maputo working with federal government; he said he was embarrassed to be taking another Mozambiquean’s job. There were competent people around him, unlike at the local level.

Sure enough, the World Bank report admitted, "Weaknesses in capacity—within both the state and civil society at local levels—threaten to undermine reform’s potential benefits." So you need to build up capacity. Training is good, but it only goes so far. Maybe the decentralization thinking goes that at some point you just have to accept that you’re going to have some rough early years, but in the end you’ve got to learn by doing. When the citizens see who is in power and how things have changed for better or worse for the local populace, will they connect the dots and demand more competent leaders? Let’s hope so. Decentralization is happening regardless.

"I like to spend some time in Mozambique"

Bob Dylan put it well - I'm having a good time here. I'm past my planned two months in the country. The posts have been slow coming lately because I've been putting in some sleepless hours trying to finish my poultry paper. Pretty soon I think I'm going to start sweating feathers. Fortunately, I've taken a few breaks and been able to take in Mozambique. A few of the highlights over the past 10 days or so:

Weekend at the beach

I like the beach, but as I live on one I don't go crazy over it like some people do. Still, Mozambique's beaches are some of the best in Africa, from what I hear. I went to one of the crappier ones, but that's a relative term. The water was crystal clear and 20-foot waves were breaking right at the beach, which made for some fun jumping into them and getting spit out like a rag doll. Most everyone else didn't think so. We met some crazy South African guys who lived there, and basically said, "There's about a 90% chance you'll get stung by a jellyfish." The truth feels like burning. A few cold beers solved that problem.

There was about 25 of us there in a few beach houses. Other than body surfing and jellyfish, the weekend was filled with barbecuing, passing out on the beach, reading, a couple parties, beach football, passing out on the beach, a crazy game of charades (see my flatmate Carlos getting it), passing out on the beach, etc. And ole' Bobby D was right, "There's lots of pretty girls in Mozambique." But he failed to mention that they're all prostitutes. On the first night, a couple guys and I went to a club, and by the luck of the draw, the three girls I danced with turned out to be there for something other than a twirl, dip and drink. After dancing with the first, my friend from Amsterdam, who I won't name here because he works for int'l aid organization, turned to me, "Uh Rob, you know they're hookers, right?" "Oh yea, I know." Riiight.

Not your average safari

This past Saturday two other TechnoServe guys, Steve and Mike, and I hired our TechnoServe driver to take us to Kruger National Park on the border of South Africa, arguably the best animal playland in southern Africa. We were so tired from a cocktail party/fund raiser the night before that most of us were falling asleep (fortunately not the driver). The animals kept us going - from impala, giraffe, wildebest, warthog, monkeys, zebra, buffalo, and so many impala that we eventually didn't even stop for pictures. We saw an impala hanging in a tree, but not the leopard that others saw drag it up there and eat some, saving the rest for later. Apparently you're not supposed to lean out the window like Steve and I were doing to snap some killer pics of a heard of elephants crossing the road. Some Safari Nazi lady started yelling at us and honking her horn from behind us. I think she scared the elephants more than we did.

It wasn't really how I imagined a safari. I always thought we would be in a rugged jeep with some crazy local guy wearing a hard bucket hat and all decked out in gear, a gun to his side. We'd be speeding through the wilderness, splashing through water with mud splattering on our vehicle while the driver yelled something intense at us and tribal music blared in the background. Instead, we were in the company truck, cruising on sealed roads (sometimes dirt), picking up a local radio station that was playing a "Best of America" mix. It was all over the map. Four consecutive songs might be "Tiny Dancer", Jay-Z's "Empire State of Mind", "Hit Me Baby One More Time", and "Dark Side of the Moon". The lions, unfortunately, were hiding that day.

Super Bowl and the sunrise - the perfect pair

Like any American worth his salt, I found a way to watch the Super Bowl. The kickoff, though, turned out to by 1 am our time. Steve, Mike, another TechnoServe gal, and couple Peace Core volunteers got together around 11 for a 7-hour battle against sleep. It was great getting to watch football after all the soccer and cricket I've seen the past months - although we got the international broadcast, which meant we didn't get the commercials and the broadcasters gave definitions for everything. Quote: "A touchback allows you to take the ball to the 20-yard line." But then again, I guess John Madden calling the game wouldn't be much different. In the end, the team we were behind came out on top, and just as the game was finishing we watched the sun come up. I don't think everyone else in Maputo had been watching - the only streets more silent than Maputo's were probably Indianapolis's. By 6:00 am I was back home and getting to bed.

Now back to chicken...

Selfish Giving and the Implications for Altruism

Perhaps you've seen Disney's commercials on TV offering a day to one of its parks in return for a day of volunteering. Sounds good. I even sent the link to my friend on Facebook. But it wasn't until my cousin sent me an article from a sociology blog and struck up a discussion that I actually started thinking about the implications of this "selfish giving" on altruism and development.

In the article, the author basically critiques development approaches that tie consumerist behavior to giving - cause-marketing strategies like the Red Campaign and Shopping For A Cure. She talks about mandated volunteering (an oxymoron if there ever was one, she notes) like racking up community service hours to satisfy graduation requirements or being sentenced in court to community service. Her own research tells her these people aren't any more likely to see this as a way to enrich their lives. Her argument is essentially: "That such (social positive) activities are increasingly tied to commodity exchanges cheapens and demeans not only those activities but also leaves our society much less enriched since those behaviors are not seen as life-long pursuits."

For me this raises two questions: Does altruism exist and, more interestingly, does it even matter for development? I think the former question is a bit easier. I would be lying to you if I said I wanted to get into development purely for altruistic motives. Simplistically put, I want to be successful, I have an interest and concern for poverty, so that's why I am getting into it. I am expecting things in return - a living, fulfillment in life, etc. But I think this interest and concern for poverty probably is some form of altruism (Self-promotion is another interest of mine...). I also think altruism is much easier to identify on a smaller scale - "random acts of kindness" are one example. In China I had one lady help me with my bags off the train, book a bus ticket, and show me around town, just because she wanted to help.

But do we even need altruism for development? Can't we just use incentives, like salaries, Disney tickets, or even just the experience? I'm a just-get-the-job-done kind of utilitarian, so my gut instinct was no, we don't need altruism. After all, some of the ex-McKinsey and investment bankers who volunteer with TechnoServe come for a resume builder, to make contacts for a job opportunity, or for a new experience. Not everyone who comes to TechnoServe wants to save the poor from the clutches of poverty, but they are very talented people and in the end create big impacts. We need these people in the fight. Thus, perhaps incentivization of volunteering is the way to go - we don't need altruism.

But then I thought about the situation more. I tend to think of the poverty problem as a bunch of smaller, inter-related problems. As such, right now I think that perhaps in the short term, altruism might be less important. TechnoServe can bring in consultants, regardless of their feelings about poverty, and help get the poultry industry launched, for example. Smaller battles can probably be won without altruism. But the bigger war probably requires altruism. When you're trying to develop an entire country, you need committed people to stick it out to the end.

When you add business to the mix, I think the picture becomes clearer. I've seen a ridiculous amount of money-making opportunities while I've been abroad, from bars to hostels to farming. But anything I formed would be a social business. I want to create change in people, not just make money. Similarly, my friend Gustav here in Maputo is starting a social venture capital fund - every project he invests in must have a social impact. I think this is the kind of thinking - evidence of altruism - that is necessary in the long term.

So should you volunteer and go to Disney? I'm torn. Perhaps this is one of the short-term opportunities that I'm referring to. But if, like she says, the message we're sending people about giving and expecting to receive has negative repercussions down the line, maybe it's not the best way to go. Or is it too idealistic or esoteric to think about possible long-term repercussions on the mentality of a rich population when you have over 30,000 children dying every day from preventable disease and starvation? Should we just try to get these problems under control now, mentality be damned? Or is the development picture bigger than that and should we really be concerned about the possible dearth or death of altruism?