Internship #2 has begun

I just realized that it has been one week since I’ve started my new internship and I haven’t written about it. Shame! I am working at Imbita Swaziland Women’s Finance Trust (Imbita for short) in Manzini. “The organization’s vision and mission is to make credit accessible for the poor to uplift their economic status. It does this by giving small loans to women in the rural and peri-urban areas, promoting the culture of saving among Swazis, providing women with demand-driven, high-quality training services; and building the capacity of people participating in the small and medium size enterprise sector so that they can become large enterprises capable of creating job opportunities.”
“Imbita offers three main programs and services: savings, loans and training. Imbita requires that all women seeking to receive loans attend training sessions which are four days (32 hours) long. Imbita staff go to the villages and train the women on cash and credit management, budgeting, marketing, pricing, record-keeping and the consequences of signing a contract. They learn about the benefits of loans and the importance of making payments, including how to do that within their own villages.”

My expectations here are a little daunting; my title is ‘Monitor and Evaluation Trainer’. I have never done M&E in my life and the thought of training professionals on something I know very little about is something I am very uncomfortable with. I have spent a lot of time doing research and speaking to other development workers in the area. My plan is to job shadow for a month or so and get a sense of what is needed here. There is currently no M&E being done. I think I will be doing training on what exactly M&E is and perhaps the next intern can set a practice in place. In the mean time I am getting workshops ready on report writing and using excel. Not exactly my interest area but I am learning a lot and getting experience in other areas (yea computers).

Watch for details of my first day in the field – what an eye opener!!! Appreciate all you have my friends.

100% true

I promise the story I am about to tell is 100% true. Take the 2 minutes and read it as it’s pretty funny. The only thing that has been altered is the name of the girl involved; I’ll call her Shelly.

So Shelly and I have spent a lot of time together; 2 straight months up until I had to move in with a Swazi family. We are very close. Now we are even closer. On Friday we went to a house party. As we approached the house, Shelly decided to jump down a few stairs. As it had been raining, the grass was very slippery and the landing being on a slant didn’t help matters either. Upon landing, I hear a scream, “oh my god, oh my god, I broke my ankle.” We take Shelly inside and sure enough her foot and ankle are already swollen and black and blue. We decide (because beer and vodka enhance your ability to reason) that it’s only a bad sprain and for tonight, she’ll ‘rice’ (rest, ice, compress and elevate). A few hours into the party Shelly decides we should go to the hospital. We get someone to drive us 45minutes to a private clinic and drop us off. It is now around 1:30am.

I have to take a step back for a moment. Last week Shelly mentioned to me that she had hemorrhoids (as I mentioned we are close and tell each other everything….along with ‘Dolly’ the third party to our bosom buddy trio). The doctor arrives shortly after we do (the receptionist called him at home). We tell the doc what has happened and we prepare for x-rays. Just before we do I mention to Shelly that while we are here she should tell the doc about her haemorrhoids as they aren’t getting any better. She agrees. We both giggle. The doctor needs to do an ass exam. As I’m getting up to leave the room Shelly states boldly that no, I must remain and watch the exam. I laugh….like I said, beer and vodka enhance proper judgement. The doctor thinks we are nuts but starts the exam. Shelly drops her pants and bends over. The doctor puts on gloves and motions for me to apply the KY jelly (on his hand not her ass). I am no longer an observer; I am a helper!!! Yeeehaaa. Sure enough, I see the hemorrhoids - ouch. It’s not good the doctor claims.

We head off to the x-ray room. Again I play the helper role. There is no technician so I am punching numbers into the x-ray machine as ordered by the doctor. I even get to take the x-ray! He takes me into the ‘black room’ where we develop the x-ray. Can Shelly help too – no! This is for professionals only. Sure enough her foot is broken. Luckily it is only a minor fracture and she only needs a cast for a few weeks.

Back to the hemorrhoids. A surgeon is called into the hospital. He too does an exam but I pay no attention as I’m an ol’pro now. Bad news. BAD NEWS!!! Shelly needs surgery on Monday. I AM NOT JOKING. THIS GIRL JUST BROKE HER FOOT AND FINDS OUT SHE NEEDS ASS SURGERY IN SWAZILAND. She’ll be in the hospital for a few days. We are crying and laughing. We need water, food and a drive home. It is now 5am. We call everyone. Finally someone answers the phone and comes to the hospital and takes us to where we are staying. Brutal.

feeling down

I am feeling quite bad at the moment. My life has undertaken another big change and my body is going through the motions of change and adjustment. I moved in with a Swazi family yesterday. I’m 30 years old and haven’t lived at home (except for a short period last year – thanks mom) since I was 19. I now live with a single mother, a 20 year old sister who hates me because I took her room and two boys aged 6 and 10. The all slept in until 5am this morning and then the gospel beats were being pumped at 5:30. The house is cute, far from the city and my gym but I guess it’ll do. My room is also the TV room and the sister-who-hates-me-storage room. People are in and out of it constantly. There is no shower and the tapes are the separate hot and cold ones…..how the #### am I supposed to wash my hair? The cockroaches aren’t the biggest I’ve seen and they promised to keep their killer dog chained up until I get home. ‘My’ room is bright orange however. I love orange.
Work…..no one knew I was coming here. On paper I have a job and a title but in reality no one has any idea what to do with me. I’m so glad I left Zim where I had the best internship ever. I’m so glad I postponed school so I could sit and be useless. Yes Yes Yes.

women's world

i've been helping out a rural women's sewing group with donations given to me before i left. i was first introduced to the group when i saw the dolls they make for sale. after speaking with the woman who was selling them, i decided i wanted to get involved with the group. the women had been offered free sewing training in a village 1.5 hours away. for 2 women to go for two weeks, it would cost them E2000 (almost $250). there is no way that these women can come up with this kind of money. so i've decided to fund their transport and few other things and everyone is happy.
the women all live in one village. i visit once a week and it is so interesting. they all work in a very small mud hut with no window nor electric lighting. they are starting to open up and discuss their lives with me. a few of the women share the same husband. because they live in the rural area, it is not uncommon. grace was telling me the her husband has 12 children; 3 with her, 5 with the second wife and 4 with 'other' women. i don't want to probe about the 4 children born out of wedlock (her term). they openly discuss AIDS, rape, incest and abuse; topics that all are too real here. everyone knows of someone who has been raped, beaten or died from HIV/AIDS. i sit in this hut, watching the women manually power their sewing machines, laughing and having fun despite the kind of life they lead. i am always so silent in their presence. when it's time to leave i stand from the straw mat, wipe the dirt from my clothes and am speechless. i am starting to understand women power.

rural life

have only visited a few rural areas. the above photo is an example of one style of home. usually a family will have 2 or 3 of these buildings - one for cooking, one for sleeping and perhaps one for supplies. they can be built from sticks, stones (but names will never hurt me) or clay/mud. the roof is made from straw and i've been told takes 2-3 weeks to build. the buildings are either square or circular (circular seems more popular). there is generally no power nor running water. i'm tempted to pay a family to allow to stay for a weekend. i cannot imagine what it would like living in such a way and eager to try.
if a husband has more than one wife, each wife will generally have her own house. while men run the show, the grandmother (usually on the man's side if she is alive) is actually the boss and she can dictate to him what she wants done.

safari

went on my first proper safari last week. luckily i was able to upload one photo (the elephant shots wouldn't which is too bad). i had a great time - it was thrilling seeing lions, giraffes, elephants, rhinos and the like in their natural habitat. we had to drive through the massive reserve and at first i was disappointed that we couldn't walk around - until i saw the lions and elephants and realized i'd be someone's lunch or end up trampled on!

here are facts of interest:

1. giraffes have the biggest heart of any land mammal - in order to get the blood up their long necks.

2. if you survive a lion attack you will need antibiotics administered straight into your blood stream. there is so much disease under their nails from rotting meat that it would most likely kill humans.

3. zebras are lions most favourite meal. they have developed an antibiotic in their system which allows them to fight the infection should they survive an attack.

4. if you are lost and starving in the african wild, eat whatever monkeys are eating. our systems are very similar. if you eat what baboons eat, you'll likely die as they eat berries which we cannot.

5. if an elephant is chasing you - say goodbye. the only thing you can possibly do is try to find a rocky surface. this will slow the elephants down and give you a possible chance.

the konbi

konbis are the mode of local transportation in zim, s. africa and swaziland (and other countries too i'm sure). they are basically mini buses that hold comfortably the driver, one employee (to collect fares) and 12 passengers. swaziland will carry 14 passengers which isn't too bad as long as no one has large bags however in zim there is no limit. the most i ever counted (and i know there were more people but my vision was blocked) was 31! 31 passengers in a bus made for 14 people. this involved sitting, kneeling, sitting on laps, legs straddling fellow passengers and so forth. huge bags were balanced on heads, stuffed under legs and placed on those whom the bags didn't belong to. on top of the sardine like conditions, remember that there wasn't washing soap, for body or for clothes; the smell inside was so bad i found myself nearly sick to stomach a few times. the windows were never opened because of the freezing 20 -25 degree weather outside (and warmer in the evening). if this wasn't bad enough, there were canisters filled with fuel inside the konbi. because of the fuel shortages, the drivers had to ensure they had fuel in case they ran out. the smell of b.o, fuel, food, and the occasional drunk and dirty diaper was enough to make to make me kiss the ground upon arrival at my stop - which i frequently missed because i couldn't see out the windows.
usually we are charged the same fare as locals however there are times when the colour of skin is reason to charge us more - double or triple the normal amount. yesterday was the worst i have ever experienced. we took a day trip and on our way home everyone was charged E80 except the driver wanted E160 from us (around 25 dollars). we were refusing to pay and the driver and employee were getting angry (as well as the very drunk man in the front seat). i was starting to get nervous. the driver was going at last 130km an hour (no seat belt). (the drivers here are TERRIBLE but that's another entry). a fellow passenger was acting as translator for us (still not sure if i trust in what he was saying or not) and reported to us that if we didn't pay the E160, the driver would drop us off close to our location but not exactly where we wanted to go. the translator said we would have to hitch and it wasn't safe. i was torn, i wasn't sure if the driver was actually saying this or if the translator was telling us lies so he could get a share of their enormous profit. eventually they dropped us off (for E80) at a T junction on the highway. it was our lucky day because a big truck had pulled over to let the men (mostly drunk) have a pee. they agreed to take us up the road to our destination. here we were, holding on for dear life (at least i was) on the back of truck, going 120km an hour. it was so windy i thought my glasses were going to blow off my face. one drunk man decided to talk (or yell because it was so loud) to me. was he speaking english or siSwati? i had no idea. he was making me uncomfortable though. i eventually told him my husband was waiting for me at our stop. the man gave me the thumbs us along with saying "shap" and the left me alone. "shap"+thumbs up = good.
i'm getting old. i would have enjoyed the adventure a few years ago while travelling in southeast asia. now i want seat belts, speed limits and sobriety (at least in cars)