No Divining Rod Necessary

"This is a road?"

Wedged between two small plots of land and jumping steeply up the hill, it was indeed a road, and I had to get my truck up it. My coworker Asaf stepped out of the truck, engaged the four wheel drive, and we continued on our way. Farther down the road, a beautiful green valley stretched to our left, beginning precariously close to the wheels of our vehicle.

It's amazing to me how green this part of Uganda is, and yet how hard it is to find water springs. The land is green and lush, and yet when we finally find a spring, it trickles out of the ground. We spend days driving around, from one low flow source to the next. And without fail, every source is described as "big" by locals. "How big?" I ask. "Big", the invariable answer. I'm becoming something of a skeptic. Trying to quantify relative differences is difficult - one of the classic cultural disparities between someone like me from "the West" and Africans.

I have been searching for sources for the last few weeks in hope of finding enough water for a new gravity flow project. To secure funding, we need to demonstrate a flow of at least 3 liters/second, or 48 gallons per minute. That's a lot of water, which makes it difficult to find a source strong enough. And it also means I do a lot of driving, each day hoping I'm doing to get lucky.

At each source we perform two tasks. First we measure the flow of the source by timing how long it takes to fill a jerry can (see the photo above). Secondly, we collect a sample of water to test for contaminants. We only consider clean sources for projects because incorporating water filtration into the system reduces the likelihood the system will be maintained in the future. Unfortunately, it also means that we limit the potential number of sources we can use for a new project.

Once we've found a promising source, I will be putting together a project proposal with preliminary engineering. Given the amount of water required, such a project would likely help around 10,000. Motivation enough to keep going out each day in hope of finding the big one.

Teka Teka

In Runyanchole, the language of southwest Uganda, "teka teka" means "to think". So, in these waning hours of the first decade of the 21st century (profound, huh?), I thought I'd give some thoughts about my first nine months in Africa.

• Finding your place is hard - coming to Africa as an individual was undoubtedly the right thing for me to do, but it's been hard. I came with an unclear idea of my role or organization, and it's taken some work to be assertive in making a place for myself. I'm now doing some great work for ACTS, sharing in the design work for a new GFS project, creating new water testing equipment, and soon writing proposals and preliminary engineering for new projects. As with most pursuits in life, no one has guided me by the hand. This has been a tremendous lesson in self-motivation and determination.
  
  
• Does the world need more NGO's? Last week I had an encounter with one of the many characters you'll find in Africa, the old male ex-pat. Married to a Ugandan woman, he was recently retired from work with the European Union and now helping his wife to run a small guest farm in western Uganda. After dinner, he came over to our table and whispered in conspiratorial tones about the underside of politics in Uganda, which is wicked indeed (and of course it is, or it wouldn't make a good story!). But the thrust of his discursive soliloquy was that in the last 15 years the number of NGO's has exploded across Uganda. Bloated, bureaucratic and unresponsive, he railed against the huge overhead they spend on ex-pat staff, wasting most of the donor's money.  And the government plays along, all to happy to relinquish responsibility for tasks it would normally handle in a well functioning state. Indeed, they also crowd out opportunities for the private sector. In fact, a friend of mine now just finishing their first year of university has told me of his great desire to work for an NGO, because that's where the best opportunities are. So, does the world need more NGO's? A hyperbolic and impossible question to answer in so short a space, but I'll say at least this - all effort should be put into finding private sector solutions to issues before resorting to the creation of another NGO.
  
  
• The world is, uh, complicated - every action you take affects others in potentially a myriad of ways. This is especially true when you enter into a vulnerable environment in an effort to help. Bottom line is, think, and think twice before setting up new projects to help people. You may end up doing more harm than good.
  
  
• Matoke, matoke! Ugandans LOVE steamed matoke. They love posho, and they love g-nuts. I mean, they love this stuff. I find it entirely pleasant, but I admit I'm putting together an epic list of restaurants to visit once I get back to Berkeley.
  
  
• Goma is a strange place  - This city on the eastern edge of Congo, clutching the north shore of lake Kivu, is a study in constrasts. It's home to legions of mzungus, who work for an ABC list of NGO's, or the UN (MONUC). There's parties, bars, and fantastic restaurants. The incredible barricaded homes along the lake are just beautiful. In fact, Mobutu's (now Kabila's) notorious vacation villa is just a few hundred meters away from HEAL Africa's Maji Matulivu. And yet in those meters between, the destitute children of Goma que up on the lake shore to carry water in 5 gallon jerry cans, often many kilometers to their homes. The wooden shack is by far the most common home in the city. Because of the huge foreign presence, prices for basic items have spiraled up, putting them out of reach for ordinary people.
  
  
• Corruption is killing potential - this isn't anything new to the cynics out there, but it's particularly depressing to see it up close. In Uganda especially, parents put a huge emphasis on education, sometimes going into crippling debt to pay school fees. And yet the hope of their children find a job is slim, because the managers in charge of hiring are looking for a 5 million shilling bribe ($2,500).
  
  
• Music! A quick list of some of the music I've find during my time here: Maisha Soul (Congo), Khadja Nin (Burundi), Afrigo (Uganda), Yo-Malé (Senegal), Moses (Uganda). I was blown away by the street music you hear in the villages of eastern Congo on a Sunday afternoon.
  
  
• My New Year's resolution - the opportunity to be here and have the freedom to learn and participate as I wish has been a huge blessing to me. Occasionally I remember to really absorb that fact, but it slips away so easily. In 2010 I resolve to be more thankful for the people and groups I've worked with in Uganda and Congo. I don't want to look back with regret when I get home, wishing I'd appreciated more the chance I'd been given.

Heri za Mwaka Mpya!

Compulsory Community Involvement

Most development projects these days rightfully focus on community involvement, in other words, getting beneficiaries to contribute to the success of a project. This fosters a sense of ownership, which should allow whatever is being done to last far after the implementing organization has left. I've seen many failed water systems here in Uganda, most likely done in because the local community had no stake in the construction or implementation process.

The ACTS GFS project in Bwesumbu is following the current thinking by working hard to include the local communities that will benefit. There are 5 "cells", comprising about 8,000 people. One Ugandan staff member is dedicated to meeting with local government and religious leaders to encourage them to moblize their communities to contribute to digging (and there's a lot of digging to be done). While this has gone pretty smoothly on previous ACTS projects, it's proving to be a challenge here.

In fact, on several occassions the local police, in a happy show of their own authority, have set up a road block on the main road that winds through the hills. All travelers are stopped, and those living in the project area have been "encouraged" to get off their bodas or trucks, grab a shovel, and get to digging. And the work sure has sped along on these days.

The police set up a road block to gather workers

But unfortunately, while such tactics are popular here in Africa (the local police captain told me that Africans are "lazy". I nodded politely), they circumvent the entire purpose of community involvement - ownership. If the beneficiaries must be compelled to work, they clearly have not fully understood the benefits of the project. And compulsion fuels resentment.

I suspect this current project is moving slowly because of the sectarian split between the Church of Uganda (Anglican) and the Seventh Day Adventists. Neither wants to work unless it's clear that the other is also. We have therefore worked especially hard then to reach out to local government leaders. Unfortunately, there appears to be a talent gap in the local leadership department, which is hampering our efforts. However, we will be back in force after the new year, ready to redouble our efforts to convince the community about the enormous benefits of the project.

Spreading Light

UPDATE: The solar power manufacturer we used at the second clinic is Barefoot Power.

Recently, I heard a statistic that surprised me - 86% of Uganda is without power (granted, I have no idea where this comes from). While I find this hard to believe, I spend most of my time in Mbarara, which is a pretty well developed town in the southwest. Up in the mountains at the work camp north of Kasese, there is no power for at least 10 miles in any direction.

So whatever the statistic, power is a precious commodity in much of Uganda. And that's especially true when it comes to health care. Medical emergencies don't wait for daylight - some issues have to be resolved immediately. Delivering a baby or performing a C-Secion by the light of a gas lantern is a dangerous task.

Providing light is therefore important, and it is the primary goal of WE CARE solar. WE CARE works with clinics in several African countries to provide a packaged solar solution, allowing for quick installation and ease of use. The package comes with the solar equipment (panels, charge controller, breakers, etc) and a series of lights for use in the clinic (headlamps, overhead lights). It also comes with batteries and a cigarette outlet for using DC power cables (for use in charging mobile phones, for example).

My fiancee is partnering with WE CARE for part of her dissertation research, and so I accompanied her to a small town outside of Ibanda to explain to the clinic what they were receiving, how it should be used, and what they could expect from it. The owner was very happy to participate in my fiancee's study and to utilize the new solar gear. She will be working with the clinic for the next few months to observe how the solar items are used (and of course to conduct her own separate research).

On the way back from Ibanda, we stopped at a second clinic participating in the study. This clinic received a smaller commercial product called the Pawa Pack by Barefoot Power, which comes with some lights and a 5 watt panel. It's quite small, but it will be used only for lighting.

Clean Water, Almost There

Being an engineer, I find it extremely satisfying to participate in construction projects. As foundations are laid or equipment installed, I can take pride in knowing that I'm part of the team that put the infrastructure up. This satisfaction was the best aspect of my previous job, and one of my favorite parts of the work I'm doing in Uganda and DR Congo.

My last day in Goma was a day for construction, and we set about the work with great vigor. All the material had arrived for the water filter, and now it was time to get about putting it all together. The first step was to dig out rock for the foundation of the metal stand which was to hold the filter (the purpose of which is to allow the water to travel by gravity from the roof, through the filter, and into the 250 liter storage tank). To my great surprise, one can actually bust up lava rock if you hit it enough with a pick axe. It's something they're quite used to doing in the lava fields of Goma.

Not surprisingly, the digging took most of the day. Once complete, we erected the metal stand and placed the 500 liter water tank (filter) on top. We then connected the gutters and began adding gravel at the bottom of the tank (click here for more detail on how a slow sand filter works). Unfortunately, it became clear that we were a little short on gravel. The day was also running short, so our work had to come to an end. We left the drain valve on the bottom of the tank open to allow the coming rains to wash the gravel. If all goes well (fingers crossed!) the filter will be finished in the coming weeks by the Heal Africa technical staff. I hope to return in February to evaluate the work and verify completion.

With the enormous support of donors from the US and the technical staff here, there is now a filter to allow women to collect drinking water from their homes instead of walking 2+ km to fetch their water. While it will only be available during the rainy season, it should be of tremendous help. Very satisfying work indeed!

Corruption!

Most people know that when you go to do work in a "developing" country, things operate differently. Projects move slower, priorities are different, and you have to navigate a new and foreign environment. Unfortunately corruption is another common feature of doing work in such a region, and it costs a lot. The price comes in two ways: from the corruption itself, and when legitimate enterprises try to adapt in response.

I can give one example of the first: traffic stops. Being a mzungu with a foreign car in Goma means I'm a constant target for the traffic cops. So when they stop me, I have to obey. I talk to them, I negotiate, I call their bluff when they say I have to go to the police station. All this takes time, and it saps my ability to get my work done while I'm here.

Secondly, probably even worse than the corruption itself is the drastic measures that have to be taken to prevent it. For example, in the last few months I have raised enough money to have a large water filter constructed so that women can drink rainwater collected from the roof. The money was raised in the US, and then wired to HEAL Africa. But that's just the beginning - actually withdrawing the money from the internal account is a huge process, requiring special authorization and proof that each dollar has (or will be) properly spent. The delays in dealing with this have been painful, especially since I'm only here in Goma for a few weeks to get the project done.

A second (more humorous) example involves the police again. A few days ago, I was driving with a 500 liter (125 gallon) water tank on top of my truck. Having been stopped once by the police looking for a bribe, I had to travel along all sorts of back roads to get the filter to its destination. The back roads included traversing through a live soccer match! My car slowly ambled across the pitch with the large tank on top - it was quite a sight I'm sure for the spectators. That trip, funny as it was, took much longer than just driving on the main road. But when the alternative is an encounter with corruption, you do what you can to get by.

Failure, Success, and the "Way Forward"

I've been in Goma for the last week and a half, working with the HEAL Africa Technical Department to implement two projects. I knew starting and finishing two projects in so short a time was an ambitious goal, but I've been learning these last few days just how ambitious it actually was.

Firstly, I have been frantically finishing work on a solar refrigerator. There was more work to be done than I anticipated (seems to be a common theme!). I also worked hard toward a solution that in the end did not work out. Essentially, to provide thermal mass to the fridge I wanted to seal a large amount of water inside. Turns out making something water tight is easier said than done. In the end I had to give up using water and instead turn to using concrete. The thermal mass is about half that of water, but still should keep the fridge cold for several hours during a power outage.

Pouring the concrete was a nerve-racking experience. Once poured, my decisions permanent. If it didn't work, I couldn't do much to fix it. Success or failure! After drying, I plugged the fridge in and waited. 3 hours, no change. 5 hours, 1 degree C, but that was likely because the day had gotten cooler. It was looking like failure. And in one way it most certainly was, because I had run out of time - I had been planning on taking the fridge to a rural hospital the next day. I couldn't take it without knowing if it worked or not.

And so I traveled north to Rwanguba empty-handed. However, while there I did get some great work done. A few years ago the hospital had a small solar lighting system installed by the International Rescue Committee. Last time I visited in July it was not functioning, and probably hadn't been in a while. This visit I was determined to offer something, even if not what I had originally hoped for. And so, after a few hours work with the staff engineer, we got the lights back on. With lighting now for two wards, they will be able to run their generator much less, saving money.

Back in Goma, work is progressing on the second project, a water filter for a rainwater collection system. Gutters have been installed, and more items will be purchased and installed in the next few days. With any luck, it will be near completion by the time I leave next Sunday.

And so now I have to take stock of the next steps. The fridge is still being tested - it's now dropped 6 degrees C in 2.5 days, so I think maybe, just maybe, it's working. Apparently it takes a long time to cool concrete! The benefit though is that with high thermal mass, it will also take a long time to warm up, providing cooling even during power outages. Looks like my calculations were incorrect!

So much of this work is new for me, I have been learning a lot. The principle lesson is that success is quite unlikely the first time you try something. I'm trying to not be discouraged by failure, but to learn what went wrong and try again. I think we've all heard this before, but it's quite different to be told that than to actually have to go through it.