NGO neo-imperialism

I have never been good with acronyms. This character flaw is turning out to be a bit of a blight on my current personal and professional encounters here. In NGO-i-stan everything has an acronym. I thought I was doing good knowing UNHCR, WFP, ILO, ICRC, etc. But here I’ve had to learn who is OCHA, IOM, ZOA, etc. And these letters are the point of reference for almost everything: Directions: ‘It’s on the street parellel to UNICEF’; Personalities: ‘Oh that’s Bob from IOM’. And these are just INGOs –you also have to learn CBOs…SLPI, CPA, …arrrrgh. Then there’s the lingo. You prepare your MoA or your strategic paper or your concept paper. You have to have an M&E plan and maintain your ‘burn rate’.

I am trying to learn this new language.

Even if I master these trappings of NGO life, I don’t know that I ever will come to terms with the dominant NGO culture—nor do I think I want to.

The ‘work’ of NGO’s sometimes seems to have more to do with the ideas of donor agencies than of actual local needs. Timetables are likely to be set to please donors rather than to pursue the best quality outcomes. Projects are often determined based on what donors want to fund rather than starting with what local people are asking for. As far as media, donor agencies ‘help’ local media by commissioning coverage of their projects. Many don’t seem to get the concept of editorial firewalls, or the division between PR and journalism.

I went to my first INGO-GA (!) meeting recently. It’s where all the international NGOs in the area meet with the ‘Government Agent’ who runs the district government. Here’s a not atypical line of acronym-dense prose from their minutes of a previous meeting: “NRC sought help from the GA on assisting IDP from Muthur who do not have their NIC.”

I sheepishly took a seat in the ubiquitous plastic chairs lining the wall. The room was mostly taken up by three large rectangular tables arranged in a U facing the GA’s desk. Representatives of alphabet soup agencies sat around the tables. Most seemed to be in their 20s and 30s. Their NGO uniforms consisted mostly of jeans or slacks and t-shirts. It reminded me of model-UN except people were less dressed up. Granted these are people who in theory at least are working in the field overseeing various construction projects—rebuilding tsunami destroyed houses or bridges or sanitation systems. Still it smacked of Western arrogance to witness these decidedly casual young people who could effectively dictate the terms of aid money to aging ‘natives’. I have always hated dress codes and having to dress ‘professionally’ but even I felt moved to stretch myself to business casual to show a little respect. Not as a nod to corporate culture, but as a nod to Sri Lankan professional norms.

Don’t get me wrong. Most of the NGO folks I’ve met have been quite agreeable people who are doing great work. And they’re motivated by high ideals and intentions. But I kept wondering where this road they are paving is leading.

My impressions I admit have been decidedly colored by discussions I’ve had with Sri Lankans who’ve bemoaned how the post-tsunami NGO invasion has torn apart elements of the local cultural fabric. They complain in past times, communities faced with hardship or tragedy would band together to help each other. They say the massive influx of tsunami money changed that. There was money to be made in helping one’s neighbor. One person spoke of a case where a man asked a neighbor to borrow a piece of equipment to do some repairs, and the neighbor asked for money in return. She said that would have never happened before. She said Sri Lanka would have been better off without the ‘help’ of NGOs.

Of course the NGO influence predated the tsunami, but the tsunami changed the scale. Now in many communities NGOs are some of the biggest employers. Local people with good English master NGO speak with fervor. People who know just a few words of English become the NGO drivers and security guards and makers of tea. With the war destroying many local economic prospects, including tourism, this is understandable. But it’s now assumed that anyone who is not local works for an NGO.

I can’t help but cringe when I get called Madam. Yes, Madam. Madam would you like some tea. Ok Madam. All us NGO people are Sir or Madam. I feel like a colonizer, complicit in something that is not as it should be.

Settlers

I found it interesting to learn how the district I living in Ampara came to be. If you look at it on a map it’s a clump of divisions along the Eastern coast of Sri Lanka with a few other divisions snaking into the center of the country that look to have been tacked on as an afterthought.




I learned this is gerrymandering-Sri Lankan style. The interior provinces were tacked on to beef up the percentage of Sinhalese voters.

Sri Lanka’s Eastern region historically has been mostly Tamil-speaking Hindus and Muslims. But following independence, the Sinhalese majority adopted a policy of encouraging settlers from poor communities to branch out around the country, combined with a massive system of irrigation system to encourage farming.



So communities like mine, Ampara, are little Sinhalese settler outposts. Now the interior rice-farming communities are mostly Sinhalese and the coastal, often trading based communities are either Tamil or Muslim (both Hindus and Muslims speak Tamil, but Muslims don’t refer to themselves as ‘Tamil’).

The dark side of my pink palace

I love my house. It is quirky and a little odd. But you can tell someone built it with a lot of love. Indeed my landlords are a lovely family. Ajith and Damika are a couple in their 30s.



They have two tiny and painfully adorable daughters, Purnima and Taru. They also live with their aging parents.

They all live just on the other side of a fence that separates my palace from their ramshackle much less palacial home. They built a castle and they live in a bit more than a shack in its shadow.

This I am told is very common. A family spends beyond their means to build a nice house and then tries to find a wealthy foreigner to rent it to pay back their debts. They often double as servants for the wealthy foreigner. The hope is that one day, eventually they will be able to afford to live in the house. But many have quite a long road ahead before they will really be able to afford such a reality.

Unfortunately as an incoming renter there is no moral highground. There are no or almost no apartments in Ampara. It’s really an old farming settlement that doubles as a seat of the district government. So I’ll contribute to this cycle and hope whatever financial help I can share with them will move them a little closer to finally moving into the pink palace.

ampara abode

So here’s the house I’m renting.


The photos don’t do justice to the power of its color scheme. Orange on the outside. Pink walls on most of the inside.


And check out my guest bedroom. Any of you who want to come visit… you’re in for a treat.



I took this harmonious fruit poster already hanging as a good omen. If you can't see the print on it says "all for one: one for all". Would be nice if it was foreshadowing some breakthrough in the country’s political situation, but I shouldn’t get carried away.

Really it’s a pretty great house. It’s a bit lonely with just one person. But the landlord’s family lives next door and they seem nice. Two really cute kids in their family. And I’m really not alone with all my mosquito and ant friends. Hmm… well plugging away with work and getting to know my surroundings a bit. Will be good to have a home base.
Cheers,
andrea

Coastal road trip

Greetings from Ampara... I've arrived in the Eastern part of Sri Lanka. We took a road trip around the coast of the country, dipping south to Matara-- which has a quite pretty beach.

There we checked out our sister media house the Matara Media House, which seems to be doing interesting work.

We headed up to Ampara the following day, stopping for breakfast in Hambantota, the president's home town which surprise surprise is now home to a number of public works projects. Some talk of this little harbor being made into a major international harbor...

hmmm...

We came to the two cities that I'll be working in-- Ampara, a quiet rambling farming village/provincial capital and half hour or so away, Kalmunai, a more bustling commercial hub on the coast. Kalmunai was badly hit by the tsunami. Something like 10% of those killed in Sri Lanka came from Kalmunai. Reconstruction here still has a long way to go.



I'm getting aquainted with the local media scene. We went to visit Pirai FM, the local station which may be airing the programs we produce. Then as they were showing us around they announced it was their station's anniversary and could we 'say a few words'. The station manager walked in the live studio, interupting a pretty happening Arabic pop music show, and started talking about our work with local journalists.



So my colleagues Matt, and Shadath started out.


I thought I was off the hook but instead I too made my Sri Lankan radio debut.

If you've been worried after reading the news about recent violence here, know that I'm staying safe. Ampara town is generally quiet even when unrest or general strikes are in full swing in nieghboring areas. As far as the conflict goes, its pretty hard to be optimistic. It's really very tragic.

So as not to end on a depressing note, I'm happy to say I think I found a house to rent here. It has an interesting color scheme--orange walls on the outside, pink walls inside. Should be interesting. More on that soon.

Warmest wishes,
andrea

Colombo!

Greetings from Colombo,
I’ve arrived. Though I’m still a bit disoriented as you can see in this photo.

My first day was shrouded in a jet-lag fog, but thanks to my new boss who seems to be a great fellow, I was given something of a tour of Colombo via places to sit and drink tea or beer. I’ve seen fancy hotels where expats relive colonial history...

... as well as divey local bars. I now have a giant stack of books to read about Sri Lanka--I'm sure the decades of conflict will all make perfect sense once i finish. It sounds like I'll be helping local journalists organize a weekly regional public affairs radio show once we finish soundproofing studios. I’ll be here in the capital for the next few days before making my way to Ampara via a stop in South to see another radio production center there. More soon...