Action Week: Volunteering Locally (News 8)

The goal is to make the Damien Center pop every night, says David the director.  Hes a lively fellow.  His sincere concern for the wellbeing of others makes him well suited for his job and an ideal model to emulate.  Without his insightful comments about the daily runnings of the center, I would have overlooked many clues about living HIV positively.  For example the air conditioning is essential for people whose medications cause side-effects of heat sensitivity.  Some find the journey during the heat wave exhausting.

Fortunately this center has sufficient funding for a variety of free activities to draw in the crowds: dinners; counseling; testing; and healing sessions in massage, chiropody, Reiki and hypnosis.  The high standard of services here is perhaps unrealistic for Mozambique, but perhaps the welcoming environment can still be transferred.  With such a smoothly running place, Tara and I needed only to help unload the food delivery, wash four dozen chicken wings, and serve the dinner the entertaining chef cooked.  There was no shortage of cooks helpers.

Instead of a sterile clinic, this place is a forum for discussion.  I shoved the information pamphlets into my back pocket and hoped to learn through conversations.  All sorts of people chatted with me about a variety of topics, but only after first listening intently to my future Humana project in Mozambique.  As the newest visitors, we should not have found this audience surprising, but Im adjusted to the strange responses during fundraising trips where little old ladies make comments such as, you fix em, you make em healthy, and then they shoot you.  To my relief, this receptive crowd only supported our endeavors abroad, and some spoke intelligently on factors related to AIDS, using their experiences to form a vividly comprehensible mosaic of the situation.

Theres more to the place than just AIDS, though.  When talking with somebody, HIV status is neither assumed as negative nor positive.  Such confidential information is usually only shared with close relations, but in this safe environment a person is easily considered a friend.  So, I didnt know how to respond when one man abruptly declared, Im positive during a lunch conversation about work.  Before I could blunder out my sympathies, Tara asked, about what?  At this point laughter saved the day by clearing the air.  She genuinely made a mistake by following the previous train of thought, but how tasteless!  How brave this man was to cope with HIV and to keep his sense of humor.  Similarly, another woman made light of her teeth falling out.  Astonishing.

Finally the topic of AIDS was broken, only 3 hours after our arrival.  These days Im often meeting fascinating people.  During the fundraising I happened to meet a HIV medication researcher who told me that since the virus mutates so often, science can only solve so much.  He said the battle against the virus is one of social behavior.  Such encouragement from a doctor boosted my role as an educator.  Talking about safer sex is essential for changing risky behavior.  But who do people listen to?  I asked David why he thought the spread of AIDS remained such a large problem among an educated population and he honed it down to the moment when people face the risk and lose their sense of self-worth.

It suddenly becomes important to appreciate the moments with each other and cherish the simple possessions in life: ourselves.  As we departed, a poet gave us something to remember him by after trying to put himself in our traveling shoes and offering his encouragement.  It is possible to connect with people in a short time.  The Damien Center shows that, just hearing how someone else has adjusted to living with the virus can be enough to help you realize that life is still good, that you can still have love and laughter. Living positively aint so negative.

visit: www.AlbanyDamienCenter.org

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Not Today, Thank You: Talking With The General Public (News 7)

"Hello there, sir, could you spare a moment of your time, please, to--."  At this moment, an interruption or a nod clearly indicates whether or not the rest of the sentence is a wasted breath.  Is he ignoring or hearing me?  Few people acknowledge us when theyre so absorbed in their own busy lives.  Poverty and disease are problems that are easily overlooked.  But sometimes somebodys interest leads into an interesting political discussion about our individual roles in finding solutions to foreign and domestic problems.

Some feel understandably skeptical about a stranger in the street asking for money.  Will the money really go to sponsoring volunteers?  However, I know now from experience that scams need something more lucrative than street fundraising.  Even when fueled by an enthusiasm for volunteer work, it is difficult to muster the energy necessary to stand for hours, spread information and arrange beforehand the necessary permits to solicit.

One woman exclaimed that if it weren't for volunteers, nothing would get done.   Of the Americans I spoke to, they generally felt disappointed in the government spending more money on weapons than in education and health.  Many of these people felt a responsibility to personally volunteer.  Non-profit humanitarian organizations work to fill the vacuum left by sluggish governmental organizations, and there are many.   I met people working in local HIV prevention centers and one woman who organized foreign work-exchange programs for youths.  I even spoke with a scientist working on HIV medication.  Meeting activists rejuvenated me by reminding me that there are many intelligent and dedicated people working in their areas of specialization.

One doctor asked me about Humanas stance on medicines to combat HIV/AIDS.  I deferred to our team leader who proceeded to explain the organizations focus on education.  He spoke in unusual detail.  The two of them discussed the problem of medicine distribution for over half and hour while I listened.  This is my kind of lesson.

One conversation with a doctor stands out in my mind.  She gave me food for thought when she explained that her daughters continued to put themselves at risk during unprotected sex and drug usage.  Why do educated people make such unhealthy choices?

In contrast, some conversations must be avoided.  The bigots who made outrageous statements tried my patience.  My argumentative side found it difficult to politely disengage from a conversation that demeaned a whole continent of people.  It is futile to persuade someone who doesn't listen. 

Without the conversational aspect of fundraising, I would fade.  Each day my presence alone promoted an underrepresented group.  Some shared my enthusiasm and felt moved to contribute to the cause.  I encouraged potential volunteers.  Occasionally a generous listener parted with a check for a significant sum of money to sponsor our work, helping us reach our fundraising goals sooner so that we may focus on other preparations.  Sam Johnson, a (fire-juggling-and-unicycling-on a tightrope) street performer in Burlington Vermont gave us $175, or his first round of earnings for the evening.  What an unexpected act of kindness!  Thanks Sam, you helped us keep momentum.

We approach anyone because we cannot judge interest by appearance.  There are many volunteer opportunities that were itching to tell people about.  Since there are few downtown spaces to meet people, we visit residential neighborhoods.  Like barking dogs, people are often hostile when a stranger encroaches on private property, but we dont deliberately intend to inconvenience.  Its a common misconception that fundraisers will stop at nothing to get a foot in the door.  Instead, after being denied a moment of time, we prefer to save our energy for somebody else.  Were human beings and understand the term, no.  We seek socially conscious people and have no intention of disturbing anybody.  Therefore its unnecessary to abandon common courtesy to yell and slam doors.  Also, people forget that there are other ways besides monetary donations to show support.

In the end, a fundraiser is faced with exposing themselves to the judgment of strangers.  Begging for money is humbling.  The encounter becomes personal, and rejections or acceptances affect self-confidence.  Our intentions to volunteer are pessimistically criticized by those who find us naive.  I intend to thwart this doubt in our abilities.  Not only are we taking six months to research development work, prepare materials and speak the language, but we are also learning to work with different types of people.  I notice that we all have skills to share and learn, whether intended or not.  We volunteers are giving our best effort.  If this effort is merely naive hope then its better than nothing.

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Fun-Raising: (News 6)

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Jyetta's Memoirs: A Journey Through Humana's History and Africa's History (N 5)

 If books could walk, Jyetta would be a talking encyclopedia.  I hope that someday Ill lead a similarly bizarre life.  Over dinner, people often ask Jyetta for a story aboutsome distant land, picked at random.  After 75 countries, Jyetta lost count.  With so many stories to recount, she ought to preserve them in written form.  Instead she busies herself with teaching, running the IICD school and sharing stories verbally so that her audience can travel with her as she works with both orphans and political leaders.

She sat silently over dinner the first night I met her, so I barely noticed her except for the thanks she kept receiving from the departing student group.  The following week this wise woman condensed the history of Africa into four classes.  Such a broad topic would challenge even concise orators, but Jyetta managed to inform us a great deal while including anecdotes about her experiences working at different projects in Africa.  Her listeners feel maddened and frustrated by the events she can calmly recall. 

For example, Jyetta described a development projects financial dilemma.  When constructing hospitals, Mozambicans could not save money by producing their own bricks because of a government contract with foreign businesses.  Therefore the fixed budget limited the quality of the facilities to the simplest.  This tied the Development Instructors hands, unable to economize by choosing local products.  The money saved on building materials could have provided for high-tech cooling equipment, but instead the planned budget couldnt afford it.  Jyetta had to explain the AID limitations.

As the most experienced Development Instructor and teacher on the mountain, Jyetta offers a wealth of information about the world.  Her opinions and stories enrich student-lead classes, encouraging debate and research.   Not only do her stories prepare us to expect difficulties when cooperating in African projects, but also provide a high standard of teaching and presenting to emulate.  During Africa Week, she assigned the June team topics to research and present the next day.  We improvised with the scant information found from the internet.  It is a skill to prepare under such a short time-frame.  The point of the task, she explained, was to notice the lack of information about Africa to spark our interest in learning more.

Conversations here on the mountain are often valuable learning and teaching moments, especially so with Jyetta.  Many of her stories provide examples about side-stepping sluggish institutions and methods so that they may experiment with new ideas and projects.  For instance, the Humana group began as a Traveling Folk High School in Denmark, as one of the first providers of experiential education.  Jyetta took one school group through Afghanistan and Iran, now an inconceivable plan.  Did you know its possible to hitchhike on a plane?  Well it is.  She offhandedly remarks.  This teacher movement switched its emphasis to development work to join in the effort to end apartheid in South Africa.  The initial funding for their humanitarian projects came from the Teachers Groups pooled resources, a shared budget that sharply contradicts how individuals typically spend money.  This amateur group taught themselves new skills, to make ideas reality. 

Hearing about such driven people solving enormous problems at home and abroad inspires action.  Hearing about such abnormal methods raises questions about how the world works.  How does cooperation and development work?   Jyetta explains how a building alone is a dead thing, and cannot provide development.  Rather the people achieve development, and this cooperation once started cannot be abandoned.  Humana continues to send volunteers to projects worldwide, and we will learn from and replace those before us.  Volunteers contribute energy to a movement far greater than any one organization.    Jyettas abnormal life inspires. 

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Portuguese Please (news week 4)

It seems silly now, but the first day of Portuguese scared me. Magonagona asked one unintelligible question after another to our group. His Mozambican accent baffled me. With nowhere to hide, we slid down in our chairs and looked helpless until the South Americans in the group utilized their native Spanish.

I admit that I arrived at the training without any Portuguese preparation, planning to learn it all in these six months. I immediately regretted this overconfidence. Our group performed poorly. The second day showed no improvement, since none of us managed to memorize the assigned short dialogues well enough overnight. We felt like scolded children dreading punishment.

A miraculous change occurred, however. Magongagona complemented our non-existent Portuguese and kept grinning from ear to ear. Learning Portuguese became fun. With correct answers, he can stress a happy YeeeEEss for about five seconds. The reason became clear when our team leader mentioned that hed asked Magonagona to keep the Portuguese lessons simple. When Magonagona replied, what do you want me to do, treat them like five-year olds? Paul agreed, well, actually yes. Paul experienced this training program two years ago and keeps a look-out for the group he now leads. Perhaps we ought to feel patronized, but I am relieved at the slower pace and can now manage to speak aloud.

The singing lesson topped the history of all language classes, and Ive taken hundreds. Magonagona surpassed my expectations the hour he taught us to sing Ah, Victoria Vem Do Sofrimento which means victory comes with suffering. Not only can Magonagona SING, but he can teach a group of tone-deaf oafs to sing Mozambican harmonies. He wrote the words on the board, lined us up into a choir and sang us Portuguese. He sang high. We copied. He sang the lower melody over us and it sounded delightful. We copied. Unfortunately the middle-range melody always sounded wrong no matter how many times tried to imitate. Only after Magonagona emphasized, this is a song about suffering -- let me hear you suffer did the words and melody finally make sense.

Magonagona makes an effort to vary the format of the class, sometimes with singing or acting. At random times of the day he appears out of nowhere (hes a head shorter than me) to ask something in Portuguese. He works non-stop, thoroughly scanning our written work for errors and maintaining conversations throughout the day. Magonagona encourages everyone to put every effort into speaking Portuguese. On language night, a highly amusing activity is a variation on the game Simon Says, except one person has to do whatever Magonagona says (eg. touch Johnnys hair, stick out your tongue) while everybody else laughs and points.

So theres more to Portuguese than conjugating verbs into the past participle and memorizing vocabulary, although my job description requires me to evaluate Mozambican teachers in written Portuguese which means study, study, study.

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How I'm doing

Since the news stories are more geared towards possible new volunteers, here is how I'm really doing:

My first day is one of those typical Tamsin days.  I woke up at 6AM to explore the trails before class....and got lost!  Yep, I arrived to the first class 45 minutes late, covered in mud and sweat from bush-whacking.  I somehow strayed too far from the main trail (and they all look remarkably similar) and couldn't find the correct trail so I had to follow the creek until I righted myself, in the nick of time.  The whole time I kept asking"does this reflect on how well I manage everything in my life?"

I don't think I ever worked this hard at university, and I'm not being graded here.  Yep, I'm a nerd.  A nerd who's terrified of showing up in Mozambique with no ability to communicate.  I'm also making time to read up about issues that relate to development.  I'm trying to prepare myself but am probably not utilizing my time as wisely as I'd like, but that's nothing new.  I ought to be spending every waking moment thinking in Portuguese so that I'm fully immersed.  I am expected to teach in Portuguese in 6 months.  If only you heard how poorly I speak now....you'd laugh.  I'm worried.

The first street-fundraising trip raised $7,500 in 2 weeks which isn't too bad.  I'm in charge of bookkeeping, and fretted for hours over mishandling money until aborting my messy ways for more accurate methods.  Looking after other people's money is a responsibility that can turn nasty fast.  At one point it looked like I'd pocketed fifty-something bucks.  I started bawling at that point. But in the end I'd only lost five while trying to change ones into twenties.  That's five more than I want to lose again.

The characters I met on the street made fundraising interesting.  Most people are too absorbed in their own lives to notice us.  Fair enough.  My particular favorite encounter involved an Englishman leaning over me, asking me why I didn't work in England and telling me Africa's not worth helping because it's "run by the devil."  Of course there are plenty of socially concious people to make up for the bigots.  Another man told me that he'd taught in Africa and called me naiive.  On the other hand I spoke with many potential volunteers.  My point here is that with all these different interactions, my strengths and weaknesses lay themselves out in front of me, making every day a rollercoaster of happy, sad, success and failure. 

I'm lucky that my team is full of cooperative, adaptable people and that this season's teachers are good. I'm taking each day as it comes.  Over and Out. 

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Caterpillar Massacre on Hands-to-Work Day (News3)

The people of Williamstown complain that the infestation is the worst case in 100 years, that the pests are greedily eating all the leaves off the Oak, Birch and Maple trees.  Im warned against publicly mentioning my affection for the caterpillars.  Im one of the few strange people who play with the black, velvety crawlers, and as far as I can tell, the trees still possess a full canopy of shady green leaves.

With the exception of the black flies,  I enjoy the wildlife here, with fireflies twinkling below the night sky and a variety of exhausted, palm-sized, moths that I find in the morning, including a green Lunar moth with ferns for antennae.  Hundreds of caterpillars drop down from the trees and crawl up from the grass.  During classtime I torment my pets (frisky frogs and newts excluded) unless Im near Nhora who screams at the sight.

Sadly just three weeks later, the caterpillars are hard to find because theyve metamorphosed into cottonball cocoons along the sides of the buildings.  Im looking forward to watching them hatch into moths until Im allotted the task of removing them - all.  There are thousands inhabiting the surfaces of the buildings that need painting.  Under some window sills I find about fifty cocoons, nestled so tightly together that I pull off a chain of cottonballs that could nicely decorate a party.  Most cocoons, however, burst into a cloud of yellow dust upon touch.  Ew, thats nasty squeals Nhora.

The caterpillar-annihilation team seemed an unlikely group, with a caterpillar lover, an insect-hater and an injured leg.  The insect-hater managed to sneak away to instead cook lunch.  I soon turned into a caterpillar-hater when I found the black mass of dehydrated corpses adhered to a little-used step.  These caterpillars never managed to transform themselves, but glued themselves tightly and stank of rotten fish.  Dead caterpillars are not so cute and cuddly as their energetic former-selves.  Armed with sticks, we slowly pry off the cocoons and caterpillars.  

I sulkily think about how monotonous and dull and interminable the job seems until I notice that some of the other jobs seem far worse, such as emptying the filing cabinets of archaic documents, fixing the car and cleaning the compost buckets.  But somebodys gotta do it.  Maintenance work is often dirty, but it does successfully keep the grounds in decent shape.  The upkeep transforms the place, like a makeover concealing the buildings true age.  With such high traffic and such harsh winters, Im surprised there isnt more wear-and-tear on the rather plain cabins.   Now I know why.

Finally help arrives, and we can chat-while-we-work, occasionally practicing Portuguese.  Time flies by and were soon sunbathing on the lawn, watching the cat run up trees.  After only five minutes resting, the work-day leader passes us on his way to mend the roof.   He waves hello and I crack a joke about his laziness.  He doesnt comment on this, but its time to get up.  When people live in such close proximity, there is always an unspoken pressure to work harder to avoid being labeled as a lay-about.  People often hide away to relax, because the public atmosphere fosters work. The pressure is self-imposed, despite the understanding that we all work at different tasks and times.  It is difficult to rest in public unless one is hidden among an idle crowd, which suddenly justifies the luxury.  The moments of relaxation are rare, but thoroughly enjoyable when available.

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Little Boxes on the Calendar: The Training Schedule (News Week 2)

Eight AM.  With mugs of weak coffee in hand, drowsy people slowly fill up the community room.  Punctuality is expected but not enforced, a real point of contention for those who prepared presentations.  Most days a morning class is offered, but on Fridays this hour remains allotted for a community meeting.  All persons on the mountain gather to check-in with one another to discuss the events planned for the upcoming week. 

7.5.5.7.0.0.3.2.  The matix on the whiteboard tallies peoples whereabouts for the week so that the food-shopping crew can economize, without eliminating essentials (such as coffee).  Absent from the meeting, however, are two groups fundraising in Boston.  Also some nameless loafers overslept.  The former find their own food and the latter miss the forum and will undoubtedly need an update.

Outlined on the board are the next weeks class topics and evening activities.  Present members select a Zimbabwe history theme from Jyettes wealth of knowledge and some educationally entertaining documentaries to absorb at night.  A returning DI (Development Instructor) will present a class on her work in Mozambique.  Now there are plenty of opportunities to quiz the Brazilians and returning DIs about whatever silly question pops to mind, but Im looking forward to her more thorough description.  The afternoons list of maintance tasks is drawn up for everybody to put their hands to work in the sunshine: mowing the lawn, cleaning the pool and so on.   

Once the schedule is full, the meeting switches gear to mention some successes in clothing collection, Japanese promotions and interested future DIs.  The floor is opened up to voice announcements or grievances so that the nagging need not occur on a repetitive case-by-case basis (e.g. only bleached white cloths are hygienic for the kitchen).  Only, those nameless few that may benefit from hearing such comments are missing.

Cheers all around when the meeting is adjourned early.  After a typical breakfast of chitchat, scrambled eggs and pancakes, followed by an half-hour cleaning up an area, we split off to tackle our individual responsibilities to organize the teams fundraising trip.  Older teams prepare us for the worst by recounting their fundraising horror stories, including car breakdowns and T-shirt theft.  The calendar shows roughly 25 weeks to schedule 3 fundraising and 3 local humanitarian trips.  Will we manage to learn all the other necessary skills, such as Portuguese in such a short time?  (Of course!)

The boxes on the calendar are full, some with free-time, but even at the last minute these times are subject to change.  Classes may be switched, or worse, delayed.  Informing a scattered mass of people tends to put a real dampener on the events of the day.  Some people are left waiting around while others are busy elsewhere.  Patience.  Patience.  Every moment is a learning experience preparing us for the organized chaos that also runs the school in Mozambique, as our team leader wisely explains.  How you react here indicates how you will react in Africa.

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INTRO:Where’s Tamsin? What’s all this about her going to Africa? She never tells me anythingE size=

Welcome to my blog, or collection of Email postings that you can plug into whenever you want to hear from me. 

 Where I am, what I'm doing and why:

 To explain the why, lets flashback to one of those rare recollections of mine:

I'm watching the six oclock news in the sitting room of 14 Hartley Ave, Plymouth as my mummykins explains to me third-world debt.  They need to borrow money to pay back the loans she repeats, smiling.  The cyclical catch-22 conversation is winding me up into an irritated frenzy.  This occurs at around the same age that schools children to learn negative numbers, an equally nonsensical anomaly.  Oh well, "mathematics doesnt make sense, you just get used to it" I later read from some quote on a teabag.

Another triggering factor is the pale yellow sweatshirt with grey VSO lettering that I somehow got my hands on.  Voluntary Services Overseas.  I wore it non-stop and wanted to be a volunteer overseas ever since.  Cooooool.  Except mum mentioned that they only needed professional volunteers, meaning doctors.  Highly unlikely.  So I settled with watching the Comic Relief fundraising campaign on TV and buying the gimmicky red noses.  A-ha-ha, pass the remote.

So now it's hard to believe that I'm the same person.  What I'm doing by spending time in a far off, un-newsworthy place is learning about this chaotic world.  Only I want to go on a work, not tourist, visa.  In 6 months time I'm heading to a remote village in Mozambique to help train primary school teachers for their credentials, involving plenty of AIDs prevention and English lessons.  Not my first choice, but theres a shortage of Mozambican teachers so they need me there. 

Where I'm preparing for this adventure: at the IICD (International Institute for Cooperation and Development).  The school is in the Berkshire Mountains (only 3,500ft) of Western Massachusetts, and I cant wait until autumn in the woods.  Afterwards the humanitarian organization Humana places me in a well-established project in Mozambique, Africa.

So there you have it.  I'm off thinking globally right now, but I'll be back to act locally before you know it.  Before I sign off I'd like to admit that I miss you all more than you realize.  Thank you Rose Cottage.  Thanks Mike for moving us out to the Land of Opportunity.  Thanks uncle Andy for my first exposure to the big, wide, world.  Thanks to the outdoor-adventure crew for charging along trails, up hills, and beyond dales. Thanks trailer-trash and community-building neo-hippies for enjoying the simple life.  Thanks Micah for putting me to work.  Thanks Fieldguides for the discipline lessons.  I cant imagine where I'd be without these influences.  Love T.

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My Arrival at the IICD MountainE (News Week 1)

After 48 hours of waiting for planes and trains, what a relief it is to finally arrive, haul my overloaded backpack up the stairs to my room and discover that a roommate already took the window-side.  She instantly apologizes.  Thats alright, I reply because Im more interested in the leafy birch trees out the window and cant wait to scope out the grounds.  Down the hall another newby unpacks.  I glance across at the laundry room, shower and enormous TV as I burst outside to see the place before sunset.  This plot consists of half-a-dozen wooden houses on a well-mowed hillside surrounded by trees. 

My nose leads me along the path to a bench where a German(?) and Brazilian(?) chat in portuguese(?) over barbequing chicken.  Tonight is party night, they inform me.  The blond points over at Mount Greylock.  I squint towards the rolling HILLS in the distance before poking my head inside an open door.  Six industrious people hover around a map of Africa.  Theyre surrounded by computers.  Whattcha doin? I interrupt. 

Twenty minutes later Ive muddled up everybodys names, their projects, interests and destinations because Im meeting a new person every few minutes.  My arrival coincides with the departure of the December team.  Wandering about, there are teams midway through the program, visitors just back from Africa, teachers and Ive lost count.  One comment sticks in my mind from Shira, who points out that here you get used to change.

Sitting down for a feast, we listen to some casual speeches from three Nordic(?) women who congratulate the December team for working so well together.  Many others chime in with compliments for the role-models.  The bashfully flattered December team admit how they both love and hate the mountain and explain how important it is never to give up.  Cheery applause.  Somebody reminisces on the difficulties of teaching starving kids as I coincidentally reach for another helping of vegetables.  Gulp.  The preparation begins. 

The following day is officially the first day.  The tour reveals a library, a pool, a coffee machine and other amenities.  We newbies quickly ease into the schedule of events and chores.  Meetings and classes keep us busy but the pace isnt overwhelming.  It turns out that half my six teammates arrived several weeks early and are pleased to finally begin the program.  Our Canadian team leader skips straight into our first Portuguese lesson, neglecting the cheesy getting-to-know-you games.  Phew.  His sleep deprivation doesnt prevent him from sharing his stories of Mozambique until midnight.  Conversations here are often highly insightful.  What will tomorrow bring?

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