"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.
