English Goats in Africa

With Frida, our homestay mother, in tow, we woke up to complete darkness at 5:40 a.m. We wandered outside the gate and hoped the taxi driver we had contacted the night before would arrive on time.

He didn't. But we still arrived at the taxi park before six and met with Francis and Dr. Lockhart, a government agricultural officer. Francis suggested that we bring along Dr. Lockhart to "give him enough rope to hang himself to the project" -- a malapropism that reminded Sam of his ninth grade English teacher who offer students "enough rope with which to hang themselves." Unfortunately, our trip to Arusha did not began without a hitch since the representative from Sia Primary School failed to show up. Putting aside our concern that such an integral member was missing, we saw our first African sunrise en route to Arusha. The hour-long skip to Arusha was the first leg of our trip. We proceeded with a 170 km (that would be kilometers for those of you reading for the glorious motherland) jump to our eventual destination of Babati. The second leg was a turbulent ride on unpaved road spent hopping on two benches in the back of a Land Cruiser we chartered from Arusha.

Joining us for this stage was Mr. Ringo and three development professionals from his firm -- two of whom were stuck in the trunk with us and privy to our countless questions. The torturous ride served as a waterboarding of sorts. We took advantage of their confinement and expertise during the 2.5 hour ride/interrogation. The fact that Mr. Ringo slashed the typically three hour ride by half an hour is a testament to his need for speed. The way in which he pushed the agility of the car was straight out of Grand Theft Auto.

We shared our fear of helping those not in need of help with the development professionals. They offered various categories of wealth measurement we could apply to our target population to determine economic status accurately. For instance, land acreage, source of fodder, type of house, mode of transport, and level of education among other things.

Typically when NGOs go house to house surveying economic means, respondents exaggerate their poverty to dupe researchers into offering undue aid. To stifle this effect, we postponed Tuesday's meeting with Sia School parents, during which we were going to begin discussing our project. Rather, we are recruiting six high achieving secondary school students to facilitate wealth/means assessment focus group discussions with the parents. Instead of interviewing multiple households, respondents discuss what rich, middle-class, and poor means to them.

Asking people to define wealth in culturally relevant terms elicits a set of categories we can use to determine the relative affluence of any given household. We can also use these categories to set criteria for inclusion in our project, which will allow us to narrow our target population. This is critical since our funding will only allow us to offer "direct intervention" in about sixteen households. Since we don't want to direct resources to those who are relatively affluent or those unable to assimilate a capital injection efficiently (aka pay back a loan), we are going to set two benchmarks in each category the community deems important. As a quick example using arbitrary numbers, if someone has a farm of under a half acre, they are unlikely to be able to care for a goat. But if they already have three acres, it may signify that they don't need our help. So we might target those who have over half-acre but under three-acre farms.

Quite an informative backseat ride as you can seen. We arrived in Babati and met with Farm Africa, an organization similar to Heifer that works with goats and through agricultural collectives. About ten years ago, FA launched a project meant to ameliorate rampant malnutrition in Babati. Farmers there told researchers they wanted to work with cows. Citing the relative ease of raising goats, FA asked members of the target population if they would be interested in using these smaller, more durable animals instead of the traditionally better-respected cow. Babati residents agreed, and FA introduced Tanzanian farmers and English Togenberg goats to one another. Despite the risky blind date, both seemed to have thrived: Babati's goat farmers, mostly women, have organized themselves into a cartel of sorts. They use their collective to protect the breed and perhaps more importantly, to set prices. They keep 100%, 75%, and 50% Togenbergs. The remainder of the goats consist of native genes. The women take care of all the business while FA, having trained them, has relegated itself to a technical advisory role.

We met a farmer who told us the goats have helped cut poverty and improve peoples' quality of life. She, for example, has used income from the goats to rebuild her house, add chicken, pig, and rabbit projects, build new toilets, and pay school fees. Next month she is planning to sell a few Togenbergs at $400 a pop to buy a TV.

The coolest thing about the goats aside from their knack for saving the world? Their pupils: every goat has a pair of enchanting deep-brown eyes with black insets that look like miniature barbells with a horizontal strip capped by two vertical pillars on each side.

Relations are thawing between Duma and ourselves. When we told Francis our idea for the focus group discussions, we were expecting some resistance given her overeager approach to breaking ground. Struggling to explain our rationale for extending focus group talks with the community, we were overjoyed when she said, "I will give you the cat but I don't need to see the rat."

We're going to have to start writing down these catch phrases.

Glossary

For those needing a refresher:

Our home

Duma - the NGO we are working with

Francis - the head of the NGO

Uji - our daily breakfast

Our snoring roommate

Who Are We Really Helping?

"In most successful cases we know of, the efforts, resourcefulness, self-discipline, and latent management skills of have rural poor have initially been mobilized and organized by outsiders, overcoming the lack of experience and self-confidence among people who have only known deprivation, hardship, social and economic oppression, and a sense of powerlessness."
- Reasons for Success: Learning From Instructive Experiences in Rural Development

Most contemporary development literature emphasizes the the importance of grassroots over top-down decion-making. The idea is to implement a project that simultaneously pursues "development" while increasing the agency of those it seeks to "develop." Those who form projects are unlikely to succeed without including recipients in every stage of the process. International donors, looking to do good, build a safe water source for a village. But by forgoing consultation and focus group discussions with the community, the donors' project lack the support and enthusiasm of the village to maintain the project.

Here's an apt example: we discussed our project with teachers at a planning meeting with the Lata School staff yesterday for a lengthy exchange of ideas and expectations between Duma and the school. Toward the end of the meeting, the headmaster submitted that although we, the project managers, are ultimately responsible for purchasing animals and building materials, he wanted a representative from the school on hand to vet all our decisions. If we want to purchase a cheap section of iron roofing, for example, the headmaster wants someone to approve the purchase to ensure it won't rust prematurely. There is a precedent for this type of concern. On her own prerogative, one Duma volunteer recently purchased pens and paper to fill what she saw as a need among schoolchildren. She did not ask the teachers whether they felt similarly nor did she ask what kinds of products she ought to supply. The headmaster took issue with her assessment as well as her shopping skills.

The community goodwill we must generate as a precondition for the success of our project is contingent on satisfying a slew of stakeholders with specific expectations. We cannot afford to make these kinds of mistakes.

As such, we met with the Lata School staff to discuss the basic premise of the project and solicit opinions. Francis joined us along with a government agricultural extension worker who conducted an ad hoc feasibility test on the school grounds. According to his analysis, the school has enough room and fodder for two cows or eight goats. Since their meeting with Jake last year, the school had been expecting to receive cows, but budgetary constraints have made goats more appealing lately. Regardless, we intended the decision to be made as a group. Discussing the pros and cons of both animals (e.g. more/less milk, more/fewer animals), some staff preferred goats, others cows, and one triangulated these two positions to suggest one cow and a few goats.

The process of choosing animals required us to collectively reconcile abutting economic and cultural realities. The arguments in favor of goats are the relative ease of care, the value of goat's milk, and goats' ability to reproduce four times as fast as cows (they gestate for half the time and usually produce twins). But as one teacher argued, most people in Shimbwe keep cows and goats are less common. Thus, if the school houses cows, people will be able to genetically improve the local caste and learn advanced animal husbandry.

The school teachers calmed our concerns with specific plans for who would care for the livestock and watch over the shelters at night. While we have yet to draw up a contract (or memorandum of understanding as they say here), we were all able to agree on the basic parameters. Duma would provide funding for the shelter and lease the animals to the Lata School for a determined period of time. The school is responsible for feeding, milking, and otherwise caring for the animals.

The school teachers understood and agreed with our plan to loan livestock to community members. However, Francis, the Duma chairperson, offered to give a group of five teachers the first loan. They enthusiastically agreed. Without much consultation with us, Francis has been determined to offer teachers the first loan as an incentive to take on the project, even though they suggested the project sans loan in the first place. Here, we were unable to avoid what we see as undue favoritism. Perhaps Francis knows this population better than we do and this could grease the social machinery of success despite our reservations.

We left the discussion satisfied and optimistic that the school was ready for the program. All that was left was to determine what materials to use for building the shelter. The school teachers agreed to provide the labor for free (though we debated over what type of lunch we would provide: they wanted fois gras, we offered rice and beans. They assented). Walking towards the main road to catch a dala dala back to Moshi, we were happy that Francis saw so much prospect in the project.

We ended up back in Duma's office and discussed loans in more detail. Choosing a candidate for a loan is a politically-charged procedure. Duma members pay entrance fees and annual dues. The organization is therefore obliged to provide returns on what members see as investments. But our intention is to help the poorest of the poor and to use the school as a local educational center for those in line to receive animals. Alas, the poorest of the poor usually can't afford to pay membership fees. And to make matters even more complicated, potential loanees have to have sufficient land and resources to provide feed and build a shelter.

As outsiders seeking to assist the poor, we are not entirely sensitive to the needs of an NGO to placate its members. On the other hand, we are relying on the NGO to sustain the project after we leave. We are generally committed to common ground and compromise. Still, we feel a moral aversion to using grant money to improve the lives of those who aren't destitute. We don't want to use our resources to reinforce or stratify preexisting inequality. But if we cater too much to the institutional concerns of the NGO, we may end up with just that.

We acknowledge that the poorest of the poor might lack the resources to care for an animal and we do not want to make loans in vain. However, we would rather develop a plan that enables the poor to obtain inaccessible resources than ignore them entirely. Thus, we will suggest using three pilot loan groups: one with Lata teachers, one with Duma members, and one with poor non-member residents of the Sia district.

We will still require arable land and proper shelter but hope the poor will use their well-developed coping skills to meet the these criteria.

Next Tuesday, we are going back up to Sia to meet with parents and teachers to explain the project and our long-term goal of loaning livestock. We are bringing six Swahili speakers along to break up the parents into focus groups with the aim of having parents brainstorm ways for peasants with land but not capital to meet our loaning conditions.

Tuesday is also our target date for ground-breaking on the project site.

Setting the Stage and NGO Drama

"This is your first real dalla dalla ride," Jake told Sam as we drove up Mt. Kili to meet local government leaders with Frida an Francis in tow. Driving up the mountain is an exercise of managed fishtailing. Always a fan of roller coasters, Sam clutched the seat ahead of him as the back end of the dalla dalla glided back and forth along the muddy road. We skidded inches from a precipice that gave way to a gorge lined with banana trees, bean sprouts, and maize stalks. The foreboding ravine was carved by the very tectonic sculpting that gave rise to Kiliminjaro itself.

Unlike last time, when our dalla dalla was essentially a moving firebomb with its payload of gasoline jugs, this time it was much less extreme: 80 glass soda bottles and two jugs of gasoline to produce a shrapnel IED (improvised exploding device). So far, we are a perfect two for two when it comes to skidding up Kiliminjaro in makeshift bombs.

Compared with the comfortable, warm temperature of Moshi, Shimbwe is freezing, particularly in the morning when we first arrive. Gathered in the local government office, a cement structure of two rooms, we discussed the project with two ward counselors and an agricultural extension officer. One ward officer moved to open the window, but Frida and Francis intervened on account of the temperature.

The officials liked the sound of our project, and the agricultural extension officer quelled our fears that residents wouldn't have enough fodder to feed the animals. The agricultural officer was particularly excited, suggesting that people who took loans should be literate. Furthermore, he suggested that groups be organized around age group since different ages would not work together effectively. This is an example of a cultural factor that we would not have come to consider ourselves. We are hoping that our loaning model leaves enough leeway for people to self-sort and account for these kinds of factors. This diffusion of agency allows the project to make appropriate loans without too much thought on the part of management. Frida thought that the local government officials could assist us to vet the self-formed groups to determine trustworthiness. We may incorporate this into our recommended management strategy. But the Grameen model we intend to utilize for lending theoretically provides a social filtration mechanism by which trustworthy clients cluster together and exclude bad apples on their own.

Francis asked the local officials about the possibility of our moving to Shimbwe -- an idea that she is in support of for more reasons than we initially presumed. The officials have taken up the search and already know of one household that has a spare room. Unlike most homes in the area, our prospective abode has electricity and water. Jake considers this cheating. Sam contends that if an electrified house exists on Kilimanjaro then it's fair game. You can take the Sam out of New York, but you can't take the New York out of Sam. That's not quite true: he has taken increasing portions of uji as the days go on.

We descended Kili after paying visits to a dispensary assisted by Duma and local relatives of Francis, who grew up in Shimbwe. We all left the meeting feeling that it was productive.

However, we found out later that afternoon that all was not well in Hoosville. We met up with a foreign Duma volunteer who has worked with others, through great effort, to streamline Duma's operating mechanisms. We had both been impressed by his leadership and social acumen. He clued us into an impending issue that other Duma members felt needed resolving. Francis and some Duma volunteers felt that we were operating outside the organizational operating standards they had worked so hard to create and standardize. They were intending to suggest that we transfer the grant money from America into Duma's bank account.

Jake's initial verbal response was, "No fucking way," which Sam agreed with in less vulgar terms. Since the grant covers our airfare, living expenses, and day-to-day costs of running the project, we felt it would be unfair for Duma to authorize much of the spending that our grant covers. This is especially true given that other volunteers pay out-of-pocket for many of the costs that we can cover with grant money. For the sake of emphasizing our honesty and comfort with transparency, Jake suggested he post a list of personal purchases on the Duma office wall detailing when and where, for example, he gets his underwear.

However, after an in-depth conversation with our forward-thinking co-worker, Duma's logic started to make sense to us for several reasons: (1) by having project money in their bank account the money will accrue interest; (2) the organization will be able to claim credit for the project, which it will run long after we leave, thereby allowing it to apply for other grants in the future; (3) purchasing project materials with money that flows through Duma's account will protect the organization from undue charges in case of audit, since the livestock we purchase is to be owned by the NGO and leased to the Sia School on a semi-permanent basis.

Having the conversation once with our co-worker and letting our initial frustration and presumption that the NGO didn't trust us die down allowed us to think more clearly. Had the co-worker not told us, we would have felt ambushed. Our negative gut reaction would have distorted our logic and impeded our ability to deliberate legitimate issues rationally and productively.

The next morning, we received a text informing us of a meeting with Francis and two volunteers in charge of accounting. It was clear to us that they were expecting a battle, and we were excited to ingratitate them with our magnanimity. Heavy rain was forebode of the looming conversation. We arrived at the Duma office over ten minutes late but much earlier than Francis and the other volunteers.

Francis arrived first and built a case for why accounting procedures had to be standardized for all volunteers while not mentioning the specifics of our circumstances. We enjoyed watching her argument meander towards a conclusion of which we were already aware. Francis used an rhetorical strategy where she jumped from one point to another, asking us to acknowledge the validity of each principle and preceding step. Having just finished the Monica Lewinsky portion of Clinton's autobiography, Sam recalled Ken Starr's technique of asking the same question with slight changes in the hope of teasing out a lie.

The two foreign volunteers arrived just as Francis finished her speech and reiterated the need for accountability. Jake had decided the previous evening to let Sam manage the response. Acknowledging their logic, Sam argued that aggregating all of our grant money in Duma's account would have introduced a new set of double standards for reimbursement. Furthermore, the dollar has lost a surprising amount of value relative to the schilling since we arrived, so Sam suggested we wait for Obama to bolster our currency before heading to the bank. We suggested transferring an initial amount to cover immediate project expenses with the expectation that we would transfer the remaining project funds to Duma once our living expenses are sorted out (we project to be under-budget). Everyone left the meeting much more comfortable than they entered it. Now we need to work out the logistics. That afternoon, Jake bought a pair of underwear. No one in Duma asked about the brand or style.

We went home and celebrated our diplomatic success with an Eagle, a lager brewed from millet rather than wheat. William calls it "poor mans' beer" because it is the cheapest Tanzanian brew and has the highest alcohol content. To our auditing readers: we paid for the Eagles ourselves.

Our Trip to Arusha and Mr. Ringo

After a leisurely weekend of War and Peace and My Life, on Monday morning we hit the ground running. Literally: William needed help getting his 1950-something royal army issue land rover to the repair show, it starter motor out of whack. It took five young men pushing him along the road at a run and then a sudden turn down a third hill with a quick flip of the keys to get the engine humming.

For Sam, driving to town in that car felt like a moment out of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Lacking passenger doors, we took sharp turns with one hand latched to a handle and another to a backpack. Arriving at the bus park in true style, we got into a vehicle headed for Arusha and started the 1.5 hour drive. A sign for Spices and Herbs, an Arusha Ethiopian restaurant, caught our eye on our way to our stop.

We compensated for a relaxed weekend with a jam-packed day of informational interviews. First was the famous Mr. Ringo, a Tanzanian development consultant. The last time Jake met with former Beatle, he came off as slightly distant and even discouraging - curious as to why Jake was in Tanzania in the first place. Maybe because he appreciated the return visit or the cash in tow, or maybe because Jake had misread him the first time, Mr. Ringo was much more enthused and seemed quite receptive to our plans.

Our discussion with Mr. Ringo focused on management strategies, who suggested ways in which we should carry out our focus group discussions, unify the women and men in the community, and improve our chances of success. For instance, he suggested bringing farmers participating in the loaning program to exposure visits at similar successful programs and described ways to create a sense of community ownership over the project. He also explained the importance of baseline surveys to assess the initial status of loan recipients in order to determine the success of our program.

Besides management suggestions, Mr. Ringo introduced us to a new and crucial contact: Heifer International. Just minutes after Mr. Ringo made the suggestion, we were sitting in the office of Heifer's Deputy Country Director discussing our plan. The country director was initially skeptical of our proposal during the time of ujamaa, or African socialism, Heifer International had attempted to help ujamaa villages raise livestock collectively by giving them animals raised on a central farm in southern Tanzania. The central farm failed because there was no clear division of duty.

He dove into the details of Heifer procedure, for instance the preparations and training that animal recipients receive before the cow is delivered. In Heifer, communities are organized into groups of 10-20. Half of these farmers receive training, plant fodder, build sheds, come up with a community coordination plan, and generally prepare to receive the cows. The cows and training are eventually passed on to the other half of the group.

From the country director, we were referred to another Heifer branch and Dr. Taxi, a veterinarian. The doctor described the nuts and bolts to us making the case for dairy cows versus dairy goats. Cows' gestation periods are longer and usually produce only one calf. Goats, on the other hand, can reproduce every five months and, if cared for well, have twins 60-70 percent of the time. Goats produce substantially less milk than cows, 2-3 litres per day compared with 10; however, in some markets goats' milk holds a higher value than cows' thanks to its medicinal properties (it's good for ulcers). Cows also require more hectares of land for feeding. We intend to discuss all these factors with the community to determine what species to invest in. The drastic price difference ($120-30 for goats and $600+ for cows) makes goats a more attractive option. Unfortunately, this might hinder our capacity to provide a meaningful choice to community members.

Until our meeting with the doctor, we were somewhat naive about the in-depth training required for animal husbandry. It turns out that we will have to devote substantial effort and funds to host training sessions, send farmers to a two-week livestock training institute, or come up with some combination of both educational methods. Our training plan will consist primarily of a training of trainers; those who receive the first round of training by means of our funding will be responsible for relaying information to their contemporaries in Shimbwe. We are considering integrating this training of trainers into our Grameen approach by assigning either the initial or ultimate loan in each group of five to trained trainers.

Feeding, housing and security, treatment, and breeding are the four critical issues that dictate the success of a livestock project, including milk production and longevity of animals involved. While we believe that families who are loaned animals will be responsible for feeding the livestock, milking it twice a day, and cleaning its faeces. However, the question remains: who is responsible at the central farm at Sia Primary School? We're hoping to have the government provide a vet to visit the animals once every two weeks or potentially have the local Shimbwe vet provide pro bono services and technical advice. Since our first meeting with Duma we have struggled with the question of whether to build a reinforced cement structure or to use a less durable wood frame. After yesterday's meetings, we are leaning heavily toward the latter option. Mr. Ringo suggested that poor community members might perceive an out-of-place cement structure as gaudy and serve as an inadvertent symbol of our projects' elite nature and inaccessibility. Furthermore, he said that committed thieves will find a way to penetrate a structure regardless of its material composition. This renders the question of saving costs by eliminating the need for a nightwatchman moot. Dr. Taxi of Heifer seconded Ringo's perspective, suggesting we use whatever materials are locally available.

After a long and extremely educational day, the memory of the Herbs and Spice advertisement lingered on our minds. We decided to treat ourselves to Ethiopian food - a delicacy anywhere in the world that gets better and better the closer you get to Ethiopia itself (notes from the motherland of Ethiopian fare pending our prospective visit). We didn't have to look at the menu for more than once before deciding to down the combo meat plate, a selection of ground and boned beefs, chicken, and lamb in a splendid smorgasbord of spicy red and yellow sauces. These delights were served in small dishes over a traditional flat and spongy sourdough. After guzzling two meat-loaded rolls of bread apiece, we dumped the remaining sauces onto the dough unfurled over the serving platter. These too we attacked with abandon stoked by weeks of involuntary vegetarianism.

Passed the closing hours of the Rwandan genocide tribunal, we promised to return another day and speed-walked towards the bus station to get out of Arusha before dusk. Walking along the sidewalk (a revolutionary innovation compared with Moshi), a man in a purple sweatsuit straight out of Tony Soprano's wardrobe ran towards us as we crossed a bridge. Rather than averting Sam, the athlete clenched his fists, drew his arms to his chest, and unloaded them into Sam's. With ninja-like speed and elephantesque strength, Sam caught the gentleman's double-strike with open palms and hurled him over the gleaming rail into the furiously foaming level-five rapid below. But with a ravishing flourish of Ghandi-like forgiveness and Chuck Norris-level athleticism, Sam hung one leg over the railing, caught his assailant by a bunch of purple sweatshirt over his chest, and deposited him safely on the other side of the bridge. Without acknowledging the incident, we walked onwards to the bus station avoiding salesman of safaris and illicit drugs alike.

Safely on board the bus, Jake and Sam waited for it to fill. Readers of Sam's Uganda blog may recall when a live chicken was placed directly under his legs for a three hour drive. Apparently, he can live countries but not conditions. Sam sighed when a teenager holding a clucking chicken sat adjacent to him. However, Sam was luckier than the gentleman seated left of the chicken, who spent a large part of the bus ride with a roll of chicken drool tacked to his overcoat.

Our Thanks and Gratitude

We would like to offer our thanks and gratitude to the following people for helping make this project happen:

Deb Boltas and Hanalyn Davies, Deborah Fried, Mr. and Mrs. Gelband, Paul Gelburd, James and Nancy Goldstein, Nancy Guarisco and Alan Orland, Ellen Kanatt and Fred Groen, The Hamill Family, Paul Hanson, Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, Amit Oren, Karin Render, Paullette Rosen and Michael Volmar, Janet and Seth Rosenberg, Nancy and Adam Rosenberg, Jeanne Steiner and Will Rosenblatt, Michelle Sugg, Ellen Schwartz, Defne Veral, and Mr. and Mrs. Workman.

Our main benefactor:
The Katherine Wasserman Davis Foundation

And of course, our parents.

Our First Visit to Shimbwe, and a Promotion

Jake:

For the first time on this present visit, Sam and I went to Shimbwe.

Checking whatever jet lag remained at the flaps of our mosquito nets, Sam and I sprang out of bed at 7 am and made our way to Duma's meeting spot at the YMCA at 730. Duma was hosting a blood pressure clinic for elderly Shimbwe residents. about twenty European, American, and Australian volunteers and guests of volunteers greeted us on arrival. Last year, Frida and I traveled to Shimbwe in dala dalas packed with native early-morning travelers. Now, on at least some days, volunteers are capable of filling a public van themselves. This speaks to the organization's sustained growth through increasing popular awareness. The rest of the day would confirm my predilection that our numbers were uncalled for. I don't mean to toot my own horn: aside from introducing Sam to community members and village leaders, who will play a key role in our project, I counted us among the expendable majority.

Outside the blood pressure clinic, which was held in a daycare center that Duma furnished, about ten local workers laid the cement foundation for a new health center the government is erecting in Shimbwe. Shoeless, they shoveled gravel and lugged dirt in buckets through a light but chilly rain. Almost The clinic itself was was a medical assembly line consisting of various stations through which patients passed on their way out the door. Canadian medical students took blood pressures, Sam and others measured BMI's, and a Tanzanian physician saw individual patients, made recommendations, and prescribed treatments. Fumbling aimlessly for a task, myself and some travelers who were visiting Duma agreed it might be best for us to leave. Confirming our suspicions, Lauren, the volunteer in charge of the clinic, discharged five of us to find some food. We climbed Shimbwe's central road until we arrived at a small bar. Corn and wheat flour patties called chapati where the only nourishment available. We ordered two rounds. Stale margarine leaked from the first stack. The next five still trapped heat, but I'm still waiting for my first chapati hot off the stove.

I also told Freddie and Clementi, two government leaders, that Sam and I had arrived ready to execute some of the plans I had discussed with them last summer. I did it in Swahili and like to think they were impressed my new Swahili prowess. Mostly, they just seemed excited to kick-start the project. Freddie also told us he thought it would be safe for us to live in the village, and that he would be willing to watch out for us should we choose to move there.

Until yesterday, our project was barely more than a well-informed concept. Now, the physical layout of the farm, the kinds of financial products it is going to offer, and the social machinery necessary to run the farm and deliver the loans are necessarily coming into view. I envision this as involving two weeks of intensive research on gestation periods, upkeep costs, and profit margins for the various species of farm animals under consideration. We hope community members will ultimately dictate the animals available on the farm. We will elicit their opinions through focus group discussions and village forums we plan to schedule over the next two weeks. By next Friday, we are responsible for submitting a report outlining the "ABCs" of the plan.

Sam:

Jake and I took the first of what will be many trips to Shimbwe, waking up at the crack of dawn though not earlier than our roommate, who has taken to drinking and snoring less.

Hopping into a dala dala packed with other mzungus, we began the journey up Mt. Kili. Dala dalas, like taxis in Uganda, are medium-sized vans that follow specific routes at which you disembark. Dala dalas are like taxis in Uganda but on crack. Whereas in Uganda, taxis were filled to the brim, they still followed strict occupancy limits, which police officers enforced stringently. The dala dalas, however, are more like clown cars in a Chinese circus. When we picked up two Tanzanians at the foot of Mt. Kili, the conductor (who collects fares) took to riding outside the dala dala. Besides Ugandan boda bodas (motorcycle taxis), dala dalas have to be the least safe method of transportation in existence. Oh yeah, our cargo included gallons of gasoline, just for kicks. These vans are literally moving firebombs.

The road up to Shimbwe is beautiful with corn, banana trees, and other flora lining the roads. As we went higher, a small divot by the side of the road was all that separated us from a deep valley. Riding up, volunteers waited anxiously to see whether we would make it beyond one stretch of road that becomes impassable during the rain, which it was. Duma volunteers recalled stories of walking up to Shimbwe on rainy days when the dala dalas couldn't make it beyond the initial ascent. We were happy to make it all the way to the top and even happier when the jugs of gasoline were removed from the trunk.

We set up shop in a day care center built by past volunteers. A rival day care, recently built and managed by Tanzanians, has left this one empty. Some volunteers were upset and felt that their hard work had gone to naught, but others optimistically saw the rival center as evidence of development and the kind of competition that gives rise to a robust capitalism. The residents of Shimbwe may have realized the demand in the market and figured they could do just as good a job themselves. I agree. The flaw with so many NGOs and development agencies is their false presumption that progress means providing more services. On the contrary, a good development agency should see success as a continuously diminished role.

Community members had their blood pressure measured by three Canadian medical students, who didn't look a day older than 13, and then had their height and weight taken so we could measure their BMI. Based on the numbers, community members were referred to an adjacent health specialist and doctor, if necessary. Duma was able to provide discounted medications, courtesy of a government program, to help community members lower their blood pressure. Apparently, Americans and Tanzanians both share a desire for a pill rather than preventative care.

Adjacent to the day care center, laborers were breaking ground for the construction of a new health care center. One of the workers was an albino, a sight not uncommon here. In Tanzania as in Uganda, albinos in rural areas are often in danger because their body parts prove valuable, macabre commodities for sale to witch doctors.

The rain meant that fewer people came and those who did more slowly. Jake and I, along with three volunteers from North Carolina, walked further up the road and dined on chapati, a tasty bread that I hadn't had since Uganda. Packing up, some of the volunteers started the long descent down the mountain with hopes that a dala dala would pick us up. We made it halfway down the mountain before one passed us and was too full to take us. By the time a second one came, we were close enough to home that it wasn't worth it. After the two hour hike ravaged our calves, Jake and I felt comfortable skipping the day's run and treated ourselves to a Tanzanian beer called Safari, which our roommate told us was a "gangster beer." Though delicious and cold, I still have fond memories of Nile Specials and their above average alcohol content.

Both of us:

After the beers, we retired to the chairs in front of our house for some easy reading. Jake continued War and Peace, and Sam, finishing Dead Aid (expect a review shortly), embarked on Bill Clinton's My Life. We were interrupted by a string five text messages sent to both of our phones. The message, from Duma head Francis, let us know we had been officially instated as Directors of Duma's Economic Department. We are to replace Lexi, a young Brit who is continuing her travels in Vietnam. Besides the resume builder, the position puts us in charge of another animal loaning project with distinctly different financing methods than our own. We accepted the position intending to dispense of our responsibility for the pig project using our new found powers of delegation. In addition, Francis requested a detailed report on the fundamentals of our project to be submitted to Duma's management team and for use in creating a memorandum of understanding with the Sia School staff. Using the diplomatic skills we perfected during our four years at Bates College, we got a one-week extension that will allow us to do much research.

Today, we were off. Voluntarily waking up at 8 a.m., we hit the 3.5 mile point in our pursuit of ten. Runners, please advise as to how to train. We have six months, unlimited ambition, and almost as much dedication to match. We've enjoyed a relaxing day and following our morning trek, have replenished our bodies with healthy portions of rndizi (bananas) and mshikaki (cow) roasted on a busy street corner. We have since taken refuge in what seems to be a whites-only coffee shop with western-style toilets (read: plastic seats intact) hedging against likely cases of indigestion. We will continue to run to work on our abs, but thus far the evidence shows that at least our intestines are cut from iron.

Sleepless Nights and Our First Meeting with Minjeni

Mount Kili

Aside from working on our project, we've been trying to get into shape, specifically morning runs while working around a robust dieting schedule involving three meals and two tea times daily. Having learned of Sam's skittish attitude towards fish, Frida has prepared a custom-made meal to cater to his "allergy" while cooking dagaa, Zanzibari sardines, for those more inclined t o Tanzanian flavors. Every morning, we eat uji for breakfast and attempt to leave for our run but have been thwarted twice by tea time, which arrives so promptly after breakfast that we barely have room left.

In search for a good run route, we were kicked off what seems to be a private, overgrown soccer field being mowed by hand before stumbling onto a more accepting field across the street from a university. Our run begins with a giant hill on route to the field and ends with multiple laps around the field. We've calculated the field to be a half mile -- the treacherous holes and cow manure compensate for any generosity in our estimation. Although our initial runs have been short, we've resolved to hit the 10 mile mark by the end of our 6 months. We'll let you know how we fare after tomorrow's three mile jaunt.

Besides full stomachs, our runs are hampered by snoring-induced insomnia. Our third roommate, Frida and William's son, although a wonderful character who means well, makes noises that resemble a hibernating bear riding a motorcycle. We often rush to bed soon after dinner in the vain hope that if we fall asleep first perhaps his snores will not disturb us. Alas. Jake, who has shared a room with him in the past, doesn't recall this being an issue, but it seems that the snorer has also taken up drinking heavily, often wandering into the room with glossed-over eyes. We have suspicions that he may be sleeping with a family friend helping Frida out during summer vacations. We don't fully fall asleep until he wakes up at 6:30 a.m.

After our own amicable confrontation, Frida offered him a stark choice: give up pombe (drinking) or sleep on the couch. He chose the couch, but an earthquake emanating from the living room assured us that he was near. Sleep is now a guilty pleasure, though one we're glad to embrace.

At the end of our first internet cafe visit, Jake was surprised to learn that an old friend from Loliondo, a remote village about 14 hours from Moshi by bus, had traveled east to greet him on arrival and had been waiting for several days for him to establish contact. Perplexed, Jake purchased his first mobile voucher and rang Elikana, a Masai chief, who agreed to meet him in Moshi the next morning. At breakfast, Elikana told Jake about an ongoing land dispute, and the two made plans to go on a safari together. Jake also met Elikana's second wife and their new baby and was happy to walk away from the rendezvous without having been asked for cash. Upon learning that Elikana is connected to an internationally-recognized NGO, Jake jumped at the opportunity to submit a job request for next year.

After breakfast, we went to a local mzungu (white people) place called the Coffee Shop. Sam chomped happily on a chicken sandwich while Jake, who had eaten with Elikana, journaled feverishly and attempt to knock off the rest of the Western canon with War and Peace, which Virgin Atlantic, upon seeing it in his carry-on bag, required him to check at the gate.

Eager for their first meeting with the Duma Group at 4 p.m., Jake and Sam wrote an outline for their impending presentation. The outline is as follows:

Introduction

- How we got here

- Backgrounds

- The Grant

Jake's Thesis Research

- NGOs as arbiters of imagined landscapes

- Political conflict in oppressed populations

- Intensification of conflict with impending introduction of resources

- Gender development objectives

- men

- women

Goals

- Sustainable animal farm managed by the local community

- Facilitate a micro-finance operation using livestock with the farm as a training source for loan recipients

- Educating kids on properly raising livestock

- Possible supplementation of school funds and/or providing employment to local community members

Structure

- While we have various thoughts on the approach to be taken, we want these to be driven mostly by community members with input from the NGO, village government, and the school

- Purchasing animals of community's choice

- A Grameen model approach to micro-finance using animals as capital

- Lending animals out to families with form of interest presumably being portion of offspring

- As the stock grows, the project will grow increasingly self-sustainable profitable, and accessible to the greater community

- One structural thought we had was a supervisory board made up of Representatives from the community, the school, Duma Group, and these appointments might be made on a rotating and/or democratic basis

The meeting was fantastic. Present were Francis, the head of the NGO, Frida, and 8 volunteers. We introduced our plan, stressing our Obama-esque philosophy toward project management involving pithy debate and deliberation amongst stakeholders. We emphasized that the buck stops not with us but with the people of Shimbwe. It was encouraging talking in a group filled with intelligent and articulate people who clearly had put a lot of thought into development practice. The Duma Group is currently starting a similar pig program (hereafter known as PP2.0) sans a central farm that will act as a bank for micro-credit, the idea is to give pigs to groups of women who will raise them and pass offspring onto additional groups of women. The group flirted with potentially merging the two projects, and we have a meeting tomorrow to consider the ways in which our own proposal might interface with the pre-existing PP2.0 in more detail.

Besides the credit aspect, the key difference between the two projects is that ours attempts to appease both men and women since women prefer development schemes that allow them to work from home. A past project (PP1.0) involving a community pig farm run by women in Shimbwe has engendered conflict: women accused their partners of skimping on responsibilities and once asserted their elected manager was skimming personal profit off the top of collective earnings. Nevermind that the project has lost money from the start, mostly due to internal bickering and missallocation of project resources. Two American tourists, sympathizing with Shimbwe's women, imposed PP1.0, however generously, from the top. We hope our project takes and will take more of a cue from the grassroots, allowing us to avoid the mortal obstacles faced by the women in the ill-fated and discouraging PP1.0. We think that Duma's Pig Project 2.0 is on the money with its decentralized approach. Just as importantly, the fact that it uses pigs, traditionally considered women's' properties on Kilimanjaro, helps to bolster women's' economic rights against men in the development process, which is a quality of the project that the women of Shimbwe are likely to appreciate.

In addition, the group discussed whether loans should be made to only members of the Duma group or all community members. While we were initially in favor of animals being loaned out to anyone in the community, other volunteers suggested that the initial loans be made to Duma members or that scholarships be awarded to high achieving students whose families are non-members. Other interesting suggestions (not to toot our own horn) were to have a certain percentage dedicated to Duma members and the remainder to the greater community or different methods of loaning to Duma members versus community members (e.g. in some self-help groups, loans are made to multiple members simultaneously, whereas in the Grameen method loans are made to an individual in a group and passed along to the next member without interest if the loan is repaid). We have a lot of details to work out.

One financial knot to untangle is how to measure interest when working with animals. Interest on cash loans is easily quantified. How many chicks, piglets, or calfs does it take to repay a loan of their mother? Cash might lose value but it doesn't get sick or die. What do you do if an animal dies be it the mother or offspring? Who is responsible for the inevitable veterinarian fees? Any suggestions from our readers would be deeply appreciated.

We truly aim to make this a participatory development project and are implementing lessons from People First. To Sam's Ugandan study abroad compatriots: jokes on you. (With all the love and kindness in the world).