Last week I travelled to the Chittagong Hill Tracts (CHT), the home of the majority of Bangladesh’s Indigenous Communities. I followed this up by celebrating Cow Killing Eid with some colleagues and neighbours, i.e. members of the majority Muslim Bengali population. Both were extremely enjoyable but they also served to highlight something which I’ve been thinking for a long time: that Bangladesh as a State, is greatly confused about its raison d’etre and its identity.
The Chittagong Hill Tracts
The CHT is pretty much the only area of Bangladesh with hills (slideshow in the sidebar). From the two days I spent there, I reckon it’s also the only place here that is reasonably quiet, clean and culturally diverse (there are 12 languages spoken there). The indigenous peoples are Christian, Buddhist and (I think) Hindu. Right now, however; Muslim Bengalis make up 50% of the area’s population in large part due to a government policy resettling landless Bengalis on land which legally belonged to the indigenous peoples. This policy as well as the creation of a hydro-electo power plant which led to the flooding of hundreds of acres of indigenous community lands (round of applause for US AID), created an atmosphere of oppression and caused the local communities to fight for the autonomy required to protect their cultures and for the settling of land disputes which go back fifty years. In 1997 a peace accord was signed but with little sign of its implementation, the area remains highly militarised. Some living in the Hills spoke of the belief that the military were involved in some of the violence which kicked off last February; that their presence increases the tension between communities and that the reason behind their continued presence is political i.e. Bangladesh government (regardless of the party) desperately needs to keep the oversized and very powerful military happy and thus must keep them busy and well paid. This is not some conspiracy theory but a matter which greatly hinders the development of many post-war, post-independence states.
Killing and Eating those cows!
Returning to the plain lands, Eid fever had begun in Dhaka: temporary cattle and goat markets were established all over the city; cow shit decorated the pavements and men with goats risked their lives crossing some of Dhaka’s mental roads! Generally, each family (in Bangladeshi terms this means the wider family so about ten-twenty people) will kill a cow and/or a few goats as a sacrifice to Allah in order to have some kind of redemption. I arrived in Satkhira on Eid Morning and though I missed the hour’s prayer, at 10am I headed off with a colleague to witness the cow killing itself. In true Bangladeshi style, I had eaten three breakfasts in three different houses each consisting of different types of rice puddings and noodles, before even catching a glimpse of our soon to be main course. I don’t need to go into the details of the surprisingly quick and humane slaughter as you’ll get a fair idea from the photos, but there are a couple of important details: the person who kills the animal must be a religious leader. The family can keep 30% for themselves, offer 30% for the local poor and give 30% to their neighbours. Later that afternoon, having completed the cooking, I was invited to four more houses this time to eat beef or mutton only. Needless to say by 9 o’clock I was very must like a beached whale.
The link between both of these experiences is not that obvious and in truth it’s just a way of bringing up an issue I’ve been thinking about for a long time: identity.
From great ideas to contradictory implementation
Bangladesh came into existence in 1971 following a liberation war against Pakistan which had its roots in the language movement. The language movement itself was led by, from my limited knowledge, a more liberal community of students and professors embodied by the institution which is Dhaka University. The crux of their gripe with Pakistan was that they did not like the official status of Urdu to the detriment of Bangla nor did they accept the imposition of a theocratic system on their ‘people’ and finally they could not accept the false autonomy which Pakistan was granting them. The Liberation War therefore was a fight for self determination, for the protection of identity and also for the protection of fundamental liberties.
And yet, the war istelf and its aftermath seem to me to prove that there was and remains little common understanding on what identity it was they were fighting for. Firstly, the genocide by the Pakistani Army was carried out with the help of extremist Bangladeshi Muslims (many of whom will hopefully be convicted in the coming months) and focussed specifically on the Bangladeshi Hindu Communities. Secondly, while the peoples of the CHT certainly fought against the Pakistani army, from some conversations I’ve had, it seems unlikely that they did so united around some fundamental belief in a non-communal independent state. It is indeed more likely that they fought with whoever they felt might guarantee them a better deal. Thirdly, the naming of the country automatically promotes one people over the others as the constitution also goes on to do, namely those for whom Bangla is their mother tongue. Fourthly, the constitution fails to recognize the specific indigenous community rights. Fifthly, a reference to Allah in the Preamble as well as crazy amendments by various governments and generals thereafter, shows that there was and remains very little freedom of religion in the 95% Muslim country. Finally, the contradictions of fighting a war on the basis of cultural freedom only to impose a single culture on all are painfully obvious and yet the country’s mistreatment of its indigenous peoples has yet to be resolved.
For me, it all goes back to big ideas by a small number of people and the fight for the freedom of identity and personality in East Pakistan. The Dhaka University Elite at the time of the language movement were perhaps wonderfully liberal free thinking people, and no doubt brave human rights activists. But only fearful Bangladeshis can believe that these elite represented the entire population. There was no agreement in 1970 on the identity which a new independent state would take on and there is still no agreement today. But this is a challenge which the peoples of Bangladesh will have to face up to if they are ever to live together in harmony and discover what it is that brings them all together. Whatever that is, it’s not one religion, it’s not one culture and it’s certainly not one languag
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Friday, 1 October 2010
Social Business: a real alternative to mainstream business or the dreams of an idealist?
It seems strange that having been living in the land of Mohammed Yunus and Microcredit for eight months, I’ve yet to really discuss either. Well, in recent weeks circumstances contrived forcing me to read up a little more about both.
Yunus, a Nobel laureate for Economics, is the father of microcredit and is referred to as the ‘banker to the poor’. Denied access to credit to purchase basic necessities or to invest in a child’s education by a banking sector which felt them unworthy borrowers, poor people instead are forced to borrow from village level loan sharks who not only demand excessive interest rates but impose numerous other conditions as well. Yunus, an economics professor at the time, felt that the bank’s discrimination was both unfair and unjustified. He set about creating a system which would grant the poor access to credit while ensuring the sustainability of the bank. Providing small loans with low interest rates overwhelmingly to poor women (more reliable than men financially, generally discriminated against and more likely to invest the money in the family) the microcredit model was born. To ensure security, Grameen Bank (Village Bank) overtime built up networks of village depositors. Security was built on trust and honour. Within three years, Grameen could show that 98% of loans were repaid on time.
Microcredit has been around for over 30years now and has spread throughout the world, not least through Bangladeshi entities like Grameen and BRAC.
Needless to say, it’s not all roses.
While micro-credit has been proven to provide poor families with an avenue out of poverty, the idea of providing credit to already impoverished people, to me, is a bit off-putting. Of course there is risk analysis involved and one gets the impression that because the bank is not-for-profit, it will be sure to protect potential customers/beneficiaries. But as microcredit has become more popular, it seems to have moved away from Yunus’ principles. It is now used by thousands of NGOs and corporations in Bangladesh alone, as a tool for poverty reduction but perhaps more commonly, as an income generating source for those entities who then claim to reinvest that income through their development programmes. There are, however; any number of reports of massive personal corruption, charging of extortionate interest rates, fraud and major violence in the microfinance sector.
Many also question the so-called empowerment effect of microcredit. The idea is that by providing loans to women and involving them in village networks, they will gain extra respect within the family, will enjoy more freedom to participate in community activities and therefore inequality between the sexes will decrease. But critics say that while this approach to tackling inequality is certainly welcome it is based on a false premise – that gender discrimination is due to financial inequalities when in fact it is predominantly about prevailing customs, traditions and attitudes towards the role of women and men. It’s not that financial equality would not improve the lot of women but that given the size of the microcredit industry, there is a risk that it could deflect the focus from the major underlying causes.
While Grameen cannot and should not be blamed for all of this, the experience shows that Microcredit, like any financial product, can be exploited to the detriment of those it should best serve. That said, if the product is well regulated and seen as just one tool for defeating gender discrimination and poverty, then Yunus can be proud of what he has created. Indeed, I’m sure that this is exactly what he would say if asked.
Yet for all the good work Microcredit has done, Yunus is off on a new crusade. He has by no means broke up with his ole sweetheart Grameen or indeed Microcredit but rather it seems that relationship is about to reach new heights. They will do this through ‘Social Business’.
What is Social Business?
A social business sells a product or service with the aim of addressing a social problem. It is ‘a non-loss non-dividend company’. In other words it doesn’t actively seek to make profit but rather to balance even and it judges its success in terms of both solvency and its impact on addressing that social problem. Indeed, even when it makes profits (or as Yunus calls them surpluses), they must be reinvested in developing or expanding the business or in the businesses trust which invests them in other development activities or social businesses.
Investors are entitled to full reimbursement in line with their agreement but without any interest or dividend. Shareholders are not entitled to any dividend but instead their dividend either unless of course, the shareholders themselves are suffering from the social ill (e.g. cancer patients, disabled persons, refugees).
Yunus sees this as a powerful alternative to ‘for profit business’. Over the past twenty years, Grameen Bank expanded to create over 10different trusts each focussing on a different social need and each linked to the core network of Grameen Bank shareholders (those who receive credit and are soon offered shares) and other customers. What makes Yunus’ idea different from those of Social Enterprise is the complete focus on social benefit and complete disregard (or even contempt) for profits.
The idea rests on a very simple belief. Though a proud capitalist he feels that economics and capitalism as they stand are incomplete. That their underlying philosophy is that man is motivated by self interest which through the capitalist system expresses itself solely in the form of profit maximization, for Yunus, is simply incorrect. Yes, we are all self-interested and we will do a shitload to earn a few extra quid, he says; but we are not ‘money-making robots’ as evidenced by people regularly carry out any number of selfless things. We have people working and volunteering for charities and not-for profit organizations, we give donations to them function, we help neighbours, we help the people of Darfur and Pakistan, we participate in community activities etc – all actions which are neither focussed on profit maximization nor motivated by self interest. For Yunus, capitalism fails to offer the selfless side of the human being an opportunity to express itself.
And even though, I feel that most so-called selfless acts actually serve the individuals interest at least in some way, what Yunus says seems to me to be pretty sound – everyone has a selfless side to his/her character and it is time that capitalism take this into account.
Does it actually work?
Yunus has big plans for Social Business. Grameen has already partnered up with some of the largest multi-nationals out there – DANONE, Otto GMBH, Adidas, Veolia, Intel, BASF etc. Each of them focus on addressing social problems: highly nutritious yoghurt for poorly nourished kids, better employment in the textile industry, affordable shoes for better health, affordable safe and clean drinking water for arsenic affected areas, reducing child and maternal mortality through accessible and suitable technology, mosquito repellent treated nets respectively. There are also many examples from around the world which have nothing to do with Grameen. I’m not going into the details now, but, yes, though difficult, they can certainly work.
What next?
Yunus envisages setting up a global social business infrastructure including University hubs, and even a stock market for buying and selling shares in social businesses. People risk seeing their share value drop and can never takes a dividend or keep the profit from selling their shares at better prices. Instead the only thing they stand to gain is satisfaction from the knowledge that they are reducing poverty or preventing the spread of malaria or helping employ 100 landless indigenous people.
His book, Building a Social Business, is an interesting read and even if at times you might get sick of Yunus’ self-confidence and optimism, it is also pretty inspiring.
As for the idea itself; I kind of like it. It doesn’t intend to replace the ‘for profit model (I would go as far as saying it will be very much dependent on it) but it does give people the freedom to decide what to do with their cash. And, for those who want to address poverty, while at the same time getting the business buzz but without scope for extra profits, it must represent a pretty decent opportunity. For that alone, Yunus should be congratulated.
On the other hand as it supports the privatisation of public goods and services, it remains development theory through the eyes of a businessman. But hey – at least it’s a social businessman.
Yunus, a Nobel laureate for Economics, is the father of microcredit and is referred to as the ‘banker to the poor’. Denied access to credit to purchase basic necessities or to invest in a child’s education by a banking sector which felt them unworthy borrowers, poor people instead are forced to borrow from village level loan sharks who not only demand excessive interest rates but impose numerous other conditions as well. Yunus, an economics professor at the time, felt that the bank’s discrimination was both unfair and unjustified. He set about creating a system which would grant the poor access to credit while ensuring the sustainability of the bank. Providing small loans with low interest rates overwhelmingly to poor women (more reliable than men financially, generally discriminated against and more likely to invest the money in the family) the microcredit model was born. To ensure security, Grameen Bank (Village Bank) overtime built up networks of village depositors. Security was built on trust and honour. Within three years, Grameen could show that 98% of loans were repaid on time.
Microcredit has been around for over 30years now and has spread throughout the world, not least through Bangladeshi entities like Grameen and BRAC.
Needless to say, it’s not all roses.
While micro-credit has been proven to provide poor families with an avenue out of poverty, the idea of providing credit to already impoverished people, to me, is a bit off-putting. Of course there is risk analysis involved and one gets the impression that because the bank is not-for-profit, it will be sure to protect potential customers/beneficiaries. But as microcredit has become more popular, it seems to have moved away from Yunus’ principles. It is now used by thousands of NGOs and corporations in Bangladesh alone, as a tool for poverty reduction but perhaps more commonly, as an income generating source for those entities who then claim to reinvest that income through their development programmes. There are, however; any number of reports of massive personal corruption, charging of extortionate interest rates, fraud and major violence in the microfinance sector.
Many also question the so-called empowerment effect of microcredit. The idea is that by providing loans to women and involving them in village networks, they will gain extra respect within the family, will enjoy more freedom to participate in community activities and therefore inequality between the sexes will decrease. But critics say that while this approach to tackling inequality is certainly welcome it is based on a false premise – that gender discrimination is due to financial inequalities when in fact it is predominantly about prevailing customs, traditions and attitudes towards the role of women and men. It’s not that financial equality would not improve the lot of women but that given the size of the microcredit industry, there is a risk that it could deflect the focus from the major underlying causes.
While Grameen cannot and should not be blamed for all of this, the experience shows that Microcredit, like any financial product, can be exploited to the detriment of those it should best serve. That said, if the product is well regulated and seen as just one tool for defeating gender discrimination and poverty, then Yunus can be proud of what he has created. Indeed, I’m sure that this is exactly what he would say if asked.
Yet for all the good work Microcredit has done, Yunus is off on a new crusade. He has by no means broke up with his ole sweetheart Grameen or indeed Microcredit but rather it seems that relationship is about to reach new heights. They will do this through ‘Social Business’.
What is Social Business?
A social business sells a product or service with the aim of addressing a social problem. It is ‘a non-loss non-dividend company’. In other words it doesn’t actively seek to make profit but rather to balance even and it judges its success in terms of both solvency and its impact on addressing that social problem. Indeed, even when it makes profits (or as Yunus calls them surpluses), they must be reinvested in developing or expanding the business or in the businesses trust which invests them in other development activities or social businesses.
Investors are entitled to full reimbursement in line with their agreement but without any interest or dividend. Shareholders are not entitled to any dividend but instead their dividend either unless of course, the shareholders themselves are suffering from the social ill (e.g. cancer patients, disabled persons, refugees).
Yunus sees this as a powerful alternative to ‘for profit business’. Over the past twenty years, Grameen Bank expanded to create over 10different trusts each focussing on a different social need and each linked to the core network of Grameen Bank shareholders (those who receive credit and are soon offered shares) and other customers. What makes Yunus’ idea different from those of Social Enterprise is the complete focus on social benefit and complete disregard (or even contempt) for profits.
The idea rests on a very simple belief. Though a proud capitalist he feels that economics and capitalism as they stand are incomplete. That their underlying philosophy is that man is motivated by self interest which through the capitalist system expresses itself solely in the form of profit maximization, for Yunus, is simply incorrect. Yes, we are all self-interested and we will do a shitload to earn a few extra quid, he says; but we are not ‘money-making robots’ as evidenced by people regularly carry out any number of selfless things. We have people working and volunteering for charities and not-for profit organizations, we give donations to them function, we help neighbours, we help the people of Darfur and Pakistan, we participate in community activities etc – all actions which are neither focussed on profit maximization nor motivated by self interest. For Yunus, capitalism fails to offer the selfless side of the human being an opportunity to express itself.
And even though, I feel that most so-called selfless acts actually serve the individuals interest at least in some way, what Yunus says seems to me to be pretty sound – everyone has a selfless side to his/her character and it is time that capitalism take this into account.
Does it actually work?
Yunus has big plans for Social Business. Grameen has already partnered up with some of the largest multi-nationals out there – DANONE, Otto GMBH, Adidas, Veolia, Intel, BASF etc. Each of them focus on addressing social problems: highly nutritious yoghurt for poorly nourished kids, better employment in the textile industry, affordable shoes for better health, affordable safe and clean drinking water for arsenic affected areas, reducing child and maternal mortality through accessible and suitable technology, mosquito repellent treated nets respectively. There are also many examples from around the world which have nothing to do with Grameen. I’m not going into the details now, but, yes, though difficult, they can certainly work.
What next?
Yunus envisages setting up a global social business infrastructure including University hubs, and even a stock market for buying and selling shares in social businesses. People risk seeing their share value drop and can never takes a dividend or keep the profit from selling their shares at better prices. Instead the only thing they stand to gain is satisfaction from the knowledge that they are reducing poverty or preventing the spread of malaria or helping employ 100 landless indigenous people.
His book, Building a Social Business, is an interesting read and even if at times you might get sick of Yunus’ self-confidence and optimism, it is also pretty inspiring.
As for the idea itself; I kind of like it. It doesn’t intend to replace the ‘for profit model (I would go as far as saying it will be very much dependent on it) but it does give people the freedom to decide what to do with their cash. And, for those who want to address poverty, while at the same time getting the business buzz but without scope for extra profits, it must represent a pretty decent opportunity. For that alone, Yunus should be congratulated.
On the other hand as it supports the privatisation of public goods and services, it remains development theory through the eyes of a businessman. But hey – at least it’s a social businessman.
Friday, 17 September 2010
A muslim wedding in Bangladesh
The bride to be is looking really really excited and was kind enough to rub on some moquito cream for the camera.
I'm not sure if the wedding area for the future husband actually welcomes those two calves as well.
The King shall sit here!
Here comes the bride...oh no actually it's the husband to be.
And he brought a bus load of heavies for back up!
The bride's brother is so kind as to carry the able bodied man into the...well tent.
'I am the happiest man in the world'
'No actually, having handed over the bangles, earrings and a big suitcase full of goodies over which we have just argued, I am the happiest man in the world'
'I've been to way to many weddings; just sign here' says the not so interested but very pleasant Imam.
The bride is crying for some daft reason as she marries a man she has never spoken to before.
Finally someone with a solemn presence gives his blessings.
And the well wishers, especially the women go wild in celebration!!!!
THE END
Sunday, 12 September 2010
Eid Mubarak! Happy Eid!
30 days of fasting complete, it’s time to celebrate. With the completion of Ramadan, most of Bangladesh yesterday gave thanks to Allah for helping them to experience a little what life is like for those almost permanently without food. More obviously one would hope they gave thanks to the women of this country who slaved away preparing enormous amounts of food for festivities. There is probably a thanks in there for the tailors of the country too, who over the last month have been working day and night preparing a new outfit for the majority of people in the country – poor included but most hard core poor and non-Muslim communities excluded.
From my side, I’ve decided to lie low for these few days. Having been in Dhaka for a conference, I decided to hang out here with some fellow volunteers during the couple of day’s holidays rather than staying in my placement. In some ways I regret not being able to spend this time with my work colleagues who are mostly Muslim and who would have taken great pleasure in forcing me to eat my fourth plate of meat and fifth bowl of mishti! But in other ways it is nice to take a break and with the Hindu Durga Pughja coming up in October as well as another Eid celebration (called ‘Cow-slaughtering Eid’) in November, there will be lots of opportunities for me to enjoy local festivals, traditions and food.
That said, because I didn’t want to feel completely left out of what is for Muslims the equivalent of Christmas in Western Countries, I decided to go for a walk with my camera to one of the biggest parks in Dhaka, just next door to the Prime Minister’s House. As it happens, on Eid day the PM’s house is apparently open to anyone who would like to go in and have a look at what kind of cutlery or cups she uses. I decided against joining in as crowds were quite big (including all the ambassadors to Bangladesh) and I was getting way to much attention as it was.
I don’t think the photos capture the atmosphere so well but there was a lot of joy out there and the kids especially were in flying form. Then again, when marking the end of fasting for thirty days, who wouldn’t be.
Eid Mubarak everyone.
(slideshow of photos in sidebar...click to enlarge)
From my side, I’ve decided to lie low for these few days. Having been in Dhaka for a conference, I decided to hang out here with some fellow volunteers during the couple of day’s holidays rather than staying in my placement. In some ways I regret not being able to spend this time with my work colleagues who are mostly Muslim and who would have taken great pleasure in forcing me to eat my fourth plate of meat and fifth bowl of mishti! But in other ways it is nice to take a break and with the Hindu Durga Pughja coming up in October as well as another Eid celebration (called ‘Cow-slaughtering Eid’) in November, there will be lots of opportunities for me to enjoy local festivals, traditions and food.
That said, because I didn’t want to feel completely left out of what is for Muslims the equivalent of Christmas in Western Countries, I decided to go for a walk with my camera to one of the biggest parks in Dhaka, just next door to the Prime Minister’s House. As it happens, on Eid day the PM’s house is apparently open to anyone who would like to go in and have a look at what kind of cutlery or cups she uses. I decided against joining in as crowds were quite big (including all the ambassadors to Bangladesh) and I was getting way to much attention as it was.
I don’t think the photos capture the atmosphere so well but there was a lot of joy out there and the kids especially were in flying form. Then again, when marking the end of fasting for thirty days, who wouldn’t be.
Eid Mubarak everyone.
(slideshow of photos in sidebar...click to enlarge)
Friday, 27 August 2010
Climate Change in Bangladesh
‘We used to have six seasons, now we can barely recognise four’, say many farmers in Bangladesh. Talk to any person working in the development sector about weather, and the same sentiments are expressed through the language of climate change. While discussions are not always based on accurate information, overall there is enough truth in there for you to understand the cause of this new obsession. While they recognise that Climate Change is something they did not contribute to (today, it represents 0.2% of global greenhouse gas emissions), the general public are too busy worrying about its immediate impacts to focus on what the West is or rather is not doing to help.
But before crying a climate change tear for Bangladesh, we need to get a few things straight.
Firstly, because of its position in the Bay of Bengal Bangladesh is the most vulnerable country in the world to cyclones. The majority of the country lies less than 5 metres above sea-level. It is home to the second largest delta in the world (the Ganges, the Brahmaputra and the Meghna all enter the Bay of Bengal here). Annual monsoon rains often cause major flooding. Over 70% of the population below the poverty line and it is the most densely populated country in the world (ignoring places like Monaco, and rightly so!).
The topography, geographical feature, tropical climate and population density of Bangladesh mean that it will forever be home to cyclones, flooding, seasonal drought and other climate related problems. If climate change never happened, this reality would not change greatly.
Secondly, all of these features (bar the ole cyclones) are an essential part of Bangladesh. Flooding and monsoon rains are essential for food security and the agricultural sector which employs 70% of the population. The tropical climate makes its countryside a place of infinite beauty as harvesting season closes in; the source of inspiration for most of the country’s great literature and equally the main reason why Bangladeshis love their country more than any other people I have ever met. It gives the people the most delicious fruits from Pineapples, Litchi,
Mangoes and so many more. In truth, in the same way as Ireland would not be Ireland without the rain, Bangladesh would not be Bangladesh without its tropical climate and infinite number of waterways. Bangladeshi’s do not necessarily want their climate or country to change; they would just like to be able to manage it better. And, in fairness, they have taken some measures over the past 40years to do so.
But the unfortunate reality is that the climate has already begun and will continue to change on the back of mostly Western CO2 emissions. The UNFCC (UN Institution responsible for climate change analysis and more) predicts that Climate Change will bring unpredictable monsoon rains, greater intensity to cyclones, tidal waves etc, sea-level rise of 20cm by 2050 and increased river volume through Himalaya ice-cap melting.
Over the past 30years, Bangladesh has suffered 60 cyclones, with most of there coming in the last 20years (a 40% increase on ‘normal cyclone activity’). It has seen river volumes rise leading to increased flooding and salinity creep inland as sea levels rise. It has seen precipitations levels fluctuate beyond recognition with certain parts of the country wondering if the monsoon season is one of those seasons which is also disappearing. The impact of all of this is staggering.
Natural flooding is key to making soil fertile but prolonged flooding or as it is called here, water logging makes soil unsuitable for growing most crops especially the staple paddy of Bangladesh. Increased volumes of silt cause river beds to rise, making embankments pointless. Increased salinity is another threat to paddy cultivation while also rendering drinking water unsafe. 9months without any rainfall when it used to 6 is push previously food secure areas close to famine. And while improvements have been made in relation to protecting lives during cyclones, the most recent cyclone Aila, still killed 300people. But it is in terms of livelihoods and basic human rights that cyclones do their most damage: livestock, seasonal cash crops, fruit and vegetables, fish reserves, firewood, infrastructure, communications, homes, schools, police stations all swept away. On top of this, the area most prone to cyclones is home to the Sundarban Mangrove Forest, the largest in the world and a world heritage site. Repeated cyclones have stripped the forest of its protective force leaving local communities exposed to the full brunt of the cyclone while simultaneously greatly undermining the forest’s biodiversity.
Yet it is in terms of the overall development of Bangladesh that climate change will have its greatest impact. Imagine an unstable government struggling to meet the expectations of its people who want development today not tomorrow. Now imagine that challenge with the impacts of climate change described above (never mind security issues, war crimes tribunals, fundamentalism, massive electricity and gas shortages, the persecution of indigenous communities etc etc) – the challenge facing Bangladesh is frightening and in a way depressing. How can anyone expect countries to fight the development war and the climate war at the same time?
With current development funds and global policies, we simply can’t. On the one hand western countries support developing countries through official development assistance (IrishAid, DFID , Unicef, UNDP etc). Yet on the other they are both unable and unwilling to change national policies to reduce CO2 and refuse to provide developing countries like Bangladesh with the resources (financial, technical and human) to adapt to changes caused by climate change. There is no real room for argument about this. Efforts to reduce CO2 emissions in western countries have been piecemeal and in some ways simply token efforts. The total climate change adaptation funds promised back in Copenhagen December 2009 would barely be sufficient for one country facing problems like Bangladesh never mind all of the least developed countries. It is completely contradictory and a waste of the tax payers money and developing countries’ efforts.
We simply have to join up global development thinking with climate change adaptation and mitigation. This does not mean that we just integrate climate change adaptation activities into current development assistance programs (as many western states propose) but that we supplement this integration with the necessary funds (ring fencing them if necessary). Simultaneously, we need a dramatic shift in domestic and international policies towards sustainable development – a paradigm which has been proposed mainly by the developing countries since the mid-nineties. A commitment to this change has to begin in November at the latest ‘last hope’ intergovernmental climate change conference.
Suspended in our petrol and consumption driven bubble; we don’t seem to care too much about the impact which Climate Change is having and will continue to have on our futures, but surely we are not going to stand by and watch developing countries suffer the brunt of our mistakes. To do so would be the single greatest injustice to developing nations and their peoples since colonialism. And given that it was this same colonialism which drove the industrial revolution which marked the beginning of this mess, for those of us who will live to see it, that would be the ultimate irony.
Friday, 13 August 2010
6 month syndrome?
It’s been over a month since I’ve written anything for this blog and it would seem that’s the way things are going to continue probably up until my last month here.
During the first few months I was really energised by writing, by the idea that I could bring my views of what’s happening in this country to whoever might take the time to read it. The aim of course was to raise a little awareness about the challenges facing developing countries in general but obviously Bangladesh in particular and of course to help me get my head around the situation in which I found myself. But, as my freshness has faded somewhat so too has my enthusiasm to write about things which are now part of my every day life. The mosquitoes and cockroaches, the weather, the people, the poverty and the human rights abuses are all now pretty familiar to me and on the level on which I was writing, I feel like I’ve exhausted much of my material.
Of course there are still major themes which I want to address like Governance, Climate Change, the Garment Industry and Islam but I think after a certain period in a country, you begin to accept that things are so complicated and multi-layered that simple observations become an injustice to those issues and repetitive for both the reader and the author. While Governance and Climate Change seem pretty straightforward in so far as they can be explained in a sensible and somewhat neutral manner, I’ve lost the will to do that.
6 months is a long time in Bangladesh. My work here has ensured that the time has passed quickly but being confronted with these issues again and again makes you question things at a much deeper level. And in the same way as the author of a book I’m currently reading says she needed 30years to find the maturity to write about colonialism, so too do I need more time to find myself and my own stand on matters which go way deeper than statistics or anecdotes. Faced with such an extreme situation, poverty and injustic;, proposing solutions such as say, the need for the amendment of the constitution to prevent future military coups, or funds to help people adapt to the impact of a changing climate is no longer enough. Rather it leaves you questioning the nature of humanity and the possibility of widespread just development ever happening. It makes you look at the individualistic foundations upon which western societies are founded and question the whole concept of religion and equality.
If I am able to form personal views on these issues over the next few months, I’ll be sure to share them but holding one’s breath may not be a very good idea.
During the first few months I was really energised by writing, by the idea that I could bring my views of what’s happening in this country to whoever might take the time to read it. The aim of course was to raise a little awareness about the challenges facing developing countries in general but obviously Bangladesh in particular and of course to help me get my head around the situation in which I found myself. But, as my freshness has faded somewhat so too has my enthusiasm to write about things which are now part of my every day life. The mosquitoes and cockroaches, the weather, the people, the poverty and the human rights abuses are all now pretty familiar to me and on the level on which I was writing, I feel like I’ve exhausted much of my material.
Of course there are still major themes which I want to address like Governance, Climate Change, the Garment Industry and Islam but I think after a certain period in a country, you begin to accept that things are so complicated and multi-layered that simple observations become an injustice to those issues and repetitive for both the reader and the author. While Governance and Climate Change seem pretty straightforward in so far as they can be explained in a sensible and somewhat neutral manner, I’ve lost the will to do that.
6 months is a long time in Bangladesh. My work here has ensured that the time has passed quickly but being confronted with these issues again and again makes you question things at a much deeper level. And in the same way as the author of a book I’m currently reading says she needed 30years to find the maturity to write about colonialism, so too do I need more time to find myself and my own stand on matters which go way deeper than statistics or anecdotes. Faced with such an extreme situation, poverty and injustic;, proposing solutions such as say, the need for the amendment of the constitution to prevent future military coups, or funds to help people adapt to the impact of a changing climate is no longer enough. Rather it leaves you questioning the nature of humanity and the possibility of widespread just development ever happening. It makes you look at the individualistic foundations upon which western societies are founded and question the whole concept of religion and equality.
If I am able to form personal views on these issues over the next few months, I’ll be sure to share them but holding one’s breath may not be a very good idea.
Friday, 16 July 2010
Reflecting on Nepal
For a while now I’ve been wanting to write an article about the wearing of the veil by Muslim women and my take on recent developments in Europe given my time here but it’s a damn complex issue and I haven’t been able to get my head around it yet. Instead, you’ll have to make do with an altogether different and much less serious subject: my trip to Nepal.
I left Satkhira around the 1st July and have yet to return. I spent a total of 10days in Nepal lapping up what one volunteer calls, all the treats which that relatively poor country offers. It’s so funny what geography can do for the development of a country. I’ve already mentioned that Bangladesh is geographically cursed in many ways whereas the Himalaya in Nepal give it something which Bangladesh simply doesn’t have: a stable and with a bit of luck, sustainable source of income in the form of tourism. There are certainly plenty of drawbacks: over reliance on one industry, environmental and cultural destruction by western tourists, hippies and climbers. But overall, I reckon tourism has been and will remain good for Nepal.
But I’m not going to bore you with the shopping list of activities which I got up to in Nepal. What I feel was interesting (as a neurotic individual) was what Nepal has shown me about myself; about how I have changed since arriving in the Desh and about the bizarre emotions I felt when my return came closer.
First up is a realization that living in Bangladesh is dangerous. I’m not referring to rogue army units, unbelievably reckless driving, flash flooding or cyclones. Within a couple of hours in Kathmandu I realised just how the Deshi culture has impacted on my view of normal behaviour. The most obvious example comes from the confusion I felt on seeing men, women, boys and girls walking about together, chatting, holding hands, kissing in public, wearing what they want, arguing with eachother, being provocative. This confusion comes from seeing so little interaction between the sexes in Bangladesh, never seeing any expression of affection and living in a pretty homogenous Bengali Muslim dominated culture. Now of course I’m still pissed at the shitty lives that many women are forced to live in this country but being surrounded by so much gender discrimination for five months definitely wears down your resolve a little and impacts on your perceptions of normality. On seeing all of this liberty in Nepal, I wasn’t actually sure what was going on. I find that dangerous and frightening but on the other hand, seeing that normality, seeing people experience at least some level of liberty, was the most enjoyable and at the risk of sounding sensationalist, inspiring part of my trip.
Second was the pleasure in having wonderfully interesting and at times ridiculously meaningless conversations. Ida, a Norwegian I knew before I came to Bangladesh, her guy George and three Australian engineers we bumped into on a raft, provided a great platform for an escape from reality. In saying this I am not dishing any of my good friends and fellow volunteers in Bangladesh but our thoughts, conversations and behaviour are almost all completely shaped by the sheer intensity of all that surrounds us whether that be our experiences in our placements or our troubles with VSOB or bitching at Bangladesh’s more annoying habits such as the roads, the mosquitoes or the power cuts. I am extremely appreciative of being surrounded by great companions and support here but it was just so good to change the channel, to talk about Australians movies I’ve never heard of, exciting travel plans, the completely different lives that a gang of five or six people can live.
Unfortunately a more enlightened and contented me was also confronted with the reality that this almost dream like life in Nepal could not last. Sitting drinking rum and cokes at 2am the night before I left, I was overcome with a depressive feeling. Everything just seemed horrible in Bangladesh. The thought of returning to intense humidity, to frustratingly slow progress at work, to long bus journeys and isolation in a city with not one place you could call a restaurant kind of overwhelmed me and for a 20minute period I seriously felt sorry for myself. Finishing the evening, we waved goodbye to some good people and I enjoyed a drunken sleep. Yet, when forced into action by necessity and flight complications, I was actually in fine form the morning of the flight. On reaching the airport, I watched with interest the different people flying out of Kathmandu that day. It didn’t take long to spot the Bangladeshi’s as a large crowd of small and mostly poor looking men made their way through security excited by the journey yet uncomfortable in the strange surroundings. In the smoking room, I watched about 15 middle aged men, enjoy some spirits with water before returning to the place which forbids them from drinking alcohol. And while I wasn’t inspired by any of this, it did get me thinking about what it is that motivates or keeps me going in Bangladesh.
I realized that there was something missing from my trip in Nepal. For sure there is still a lot of poverty there, but travelling from place to place in an country flooded by tourists, I didn’t feel like having a chat with the locals, and those who felt like having a chat with me were mostly face painted men dressed in religious gear looking for me to take a photo of them and then pay for it. While I don’t doubt what I’ve heard from many people which is that Nepali’s are extremely warm people, you really struggle to discover anything about the character of those living in Nepal. For sure I’ve been in Bangladesh for five months, but even if you only stay for a week, you’ll see something completely different. Despite a complete lack of understanding for the concept of personal space, there is something very natural, innocent and genuine about the people in this troubled country that I have never experienced elsewhere. The people I work with are, despite the annoying tendencies, wonderful wonderful people. In the same way that Bangladeshi’s have a love for their country unlike any patriotism I’ve ever encountered, they too take you in and if you respect them and make some effort, by and large they treat you like family. Getting a baby taxi back from the airport in Dhaka, I also realized that by being untouched by tourists, Bangladeshis in general have strong characters and they appreciate a bit of banter (my driver filled me in on all the watering holes in Dhaka and treated me some moves in honour of the parties held inside the passing Radisson Hotel).
So after a wonderful time in Nepal, it’s back to the grindstone. But that’s fine. There are some terrible things in this country but some great ones too…With nigh on 6 months gone, the break was pretty much perfect and leaves me with only a little over five to go.
I left Satkhira around the 1st July and have yet to return. I spent a total of 10days in Nepal lapping up what one volunteer calls, all the treats which that relatively poor country offers. It’s so funny what geography can do for the development of a country. I’ve already mentioned that Bangladesh is geographically cursed in many ways whereas the Himalaya in Nepal give it something which Bangladesh simply doesn’t have: a stable and with a bit of luck, sustainable source of income in the form of tourism. There are certainly plenty of drawbacks: over reliance on one industry, environmental and cultural destruction by western tourists, hippies and climbers. But overall, I reckon tourism has been and will remain good for Nepal.
But I’m not going to bore you with the shopping list of activities which I got up to in Nepal. What I feel was interesting (as a neurotic individual) was what Nepal has shown me about myself; about how I have changed since arriving in the Desh and about the bizarre emotions I felt when my return came closer.
First up is a realization that living in Bangladesh is dangerous. I’m not referring to rogue army units, unbelievably reckless driving, flash flooding or cyclones. Within a couple of hours in Kathmandu I realised just how the Deshi culture has impacted on my view of normal behaviour. The most obvious example comes from the confusion I felt on seeing men, women, boys and girls walking about together, chatting, holding hands, kissing in public, wearing what they want, arguing with eachother, being provocative. This confusion comes from seeing so little interaction between the sexes in Bangladesh, never seeing any expression of affection and living in a pretty homogenous Bengali Muslim dominated culture. Now of course I’m still pissed at the shitty lives that many women are forced to live in this country but being surrounded by so much gender discrimination for five months definitely wears down your resolve a little and impacts on your perceptions of normality. On seeing all of this liberty in Nepal, I wasn’t actually sure what was going on. I find that dangerous and frightening but on the other hand, seeing that normality, seeing people experience at least some level of liberty, was the most enjoyable and at the risk of sounding sensationalist, inspiring part of my trip.
Second was the pleasure in having wonderfully interesting and at times ridiculously meaningless conversations. Ida, a Norwegian I knew before I came to Bangladesh, her guy George and three Australian engineers we bumped into on a raft, provided a great platform for an escape from reality. In saying this I am not dishing any of my good friends and fellow volunteers in Bangladesh but our thoughts, conversations and behaviour are almost all completely shaped by the sheer intensity of all that surrounds us whether that be our experiences in our placements or our troubles with VSOB or bitching at Bangladesh’s more annoying habits such as the roads, the mosquitoes or the power cuts. I am extremely appreciative of being surrounded by great companions and support here but it was just so good to change the channel, to talk about Australians movies I’ve never heard of, exciting travel plans, the completely different lives that a gang of five or six people can live.
Unfortunately a more enlightened and contented me was also confronted with the reality that this almost dream like life in Nepal could not last. Sitting drinking rum and cokes at 2am the night before I left, I was overcome with a depressive feeling. Everything just seemed horrible in Bangladesh. The thought of returning to intense humidity, to frustratingly slow progress at work, to long bus journeys and isolation in a city with not one place you could call a restaurant kind of overwhelmed me and for a 20minute period I seriously felt sorry for myself. Finishing the evening, we waved goodbye to some good people and I enjoyed a drunken sleep. Yet, when forced into action by necessity and flight complications, I was actually in fine form the morning of the flight. On reaching the airport, I watched with interest the different people flying out of Kathmandu that day. It didn’t take long to spot the Bangladeshi’s as a large crowd of small and mostly poor looking men made their way through security excited by the journey yet uncomfortable in the strange surroundings. In the smoking room, I watched about 15 middle aged men, enjoy some spirits with water before returning to the place which forbids them from drinking alcohol. And while I wasn’t inspired by any of this, it did get me thinking about what it is that motivates or keeps me going in Bangladesh.
I realized that there was something missing from my trip in Nepal. For sure there is still a lot of poverty there, but travelling from place to place in an country flooded by tourists, I didn’t feel like having a chat with the locals, and those who felt like having a chat with me were mostly face painted men dressed in religious gear looking for me to take a photo of them and then pay for it. While I don’t doubt what I’ve heard from many people which is that Nepali’s are extremely warm people, you really struggle to discover anything about the character of those living in Nepal. For sure I’ve been in Bangladesh for five months, but even if you only stay for a week, you’ll see something completely different. Despite a complete lack of understanding for the concept of personal space, there is something very natural, innocent and genuine about the people in this troubled country that I have never experienced elsewhere. The people I work with are, despite the annoying tendencies, wonderful wonderful people. In the same way that Bangladeshi’s have a love for their country unlike any patriotism I’ve ever encountered, they too take you in and if you respect them and make some effort, by and large they treat you like family. Getting a baby taxi back from the airport in Dhaka, I also realized that by being untouched by tourists, Bangladeshis in general have strong characters and they appreciate a bit of banter (my driver filled me in on all the watering holes in Dhaka and treated me some moves in honour of the parties held inside the passing Radisson Hotel).
So after a wonderful time in Nepal, it’s back to the grindstone. But that’s fine. There are some terrible things in this country but some great ones too…With nigh on 6 months gone, the break was pretty much perfect and leaves me with only a little over five to go.
Saturday, 26 June 2010
An entirely different World Cup in Bangladesh?
For those of you who are sick of the World Cup already fear not; this comment does not actually relate to the playing of football. Instead, its about what for me, is an entirely different world cup experience to the ones I remember having of Italia 90, USA 94, France 98, Japan-Korea 2002, Germany 2006. What makes it different is not that it is the first one ever in Africa, it’s not those Vuvuelevasdansnasdakln; and it’s not the lack of performances from France or Italy. No, it is of course the fact that I am in Bangladesh.
Since I’ve arrived here, the only thing anyone could say about Ireland was that we have a cricket team which is pretty much on a par with Bangladesh i.e. not the best. At no point did anyone mention say Packie Bonner, Roy Keane, Damien Duff or even our beloved Thierry Henry. But all of that changed with the world cup….well I’m exaggerating a little but I have heard Keano’s name mentioned a few times recently.
It all began in mid- May when I took a trip to Dhaka and noticed some giant flags been flown on rooftops all over the city. It was pretty crazy but I thought it must be some Dhaka thing….but low and behold, by June 1st the World Cup had come to simple Satkhira. Flags are flown from anywhere and can often be 5x5metres in size draping over the sleeping day labourers returning from a days work on the top of big old Bedford trucks. There are flags everywhere and I guess 95% of them are Argentinean and Brazilian! Ah, that’d be because of Bangladesh’s long and distinguished history of trade with the South Americans and its illustrious football history….ah no! Ask someone who they support and they’ll say Argentina or Brazil and some will tell you they have two teams: Argentina and Brazil! Asked why, the usual answer is Pele and Maradona. Most will then mention Kaka and Messi though many haven’t a clue which one plays for Brazil and which one Argentina. But this is only the beginning.
I have the pleasure of having a TV in my spare room, and, as I live in the same building as our office, it was decided that mine would be the ‘bar’ of choice for watching the world cup. Never has one who enjoyed company while watching matches; I reluctantly agreed that this was a smashing idea and that I love watching football with friends. This however, is where things turn Bangladeshi. Obviously with no alcohol to liven things up and with matches so far being pretty uninteresting, we are forced to chat. Chat on a good day is hard work here, but chat about something like football (as those who have zero interest in the sport will tell you) is not really that simple. Here though, it is exactly that, with comments often like ‘Argentina very nice team’ ‘Spain no good team’ ‘Goalkeeper is best player’ ‘Playing is Messi?’ or ‘Slovenia…Hard team!’. My favourite however are similar to those Ray D’arcy used to ask on Blackboard Jungle such as ‘Greece is European Country?’ ‘Mexico?’ ‘Honduras is Africa?’ or ‘Africa is cold country?’ ‘Germany is today rich country?’ In fairness I know my friends here are just trying to learn something new but conversations about the Greek or Irish Economic disasters are a) way too complicated for conversations greatly restricted by language problems b) practically every country bar none in the EU if not the Council of Europe is a rich country compared to Bangladesh.
On the other hand, there is something incredibly bizarre going on here. Bangladeshi’s by and large have no idea about football…when I say no idea I mean along the lines of someone who does their very best despite the media bullshit to ignore football back in Europe. Yet, while in Europe most of these people ignore the world cup; in Bangladesh people who otherwise couldn’t care less about Messi etc, who use soccer pitches either for grazing cattle or for playing cricket, are now absolutely obsessed with what’s happening down in South Africa. This obsession has already hit levels I thought impossible to reach. For example power shortages meant most of us 160,000,000 people would be lucky to get one half of each match. However, after some sober Bangladeshi hooligans in Dhaka attacked the power office in protest at missing half an Argentina match, the Bangladesh Government, which at the moment is incredibly unpopular, strongly encouraged all industries to stop producing during match times. Given that these are the same factories which already pay large sums for generators etc, it seems mightily unfair and economically suicidal to tell these companies that between 5.30-3a.m., they must stop all operations. Whether they followed the recommendations or not; the power situation has not improved. On the other hand, you have fields in the middle of small communities which have big screens where hundreds of people (read men) will watch football until 3am and then get up for work at 8am.
So what is it about Bangladesh and the World Cup that makes its people, young, old, male and female, adopt a team (read Brazil or Argentina). I’ve seen my director receive a phone call from his wife boasting that her team is winning. What makes them, rich and poor, buy materials with which to create a humongous Dutch flag? But maybe I’m phrasing the question incorrectly. Instead maybe I should ask what is it about the world cup that makes a country with no so-called footballing history become its biggest fans? I don’t have an answer but do have a few theories.
One is that the World Cup presents all Bangladeshi’s with an opportunity to forget the water shortages, the electricity blackouts (kinda), the upcoming monsoon, the tragedies in extremely overcrowded buildings and buses. Similarly in Ireland I assume the World Cup is calming talk of recessions. In the US, maybe it’s distracting people from the BP mess. In the UK, it could be providing David Cameron with a bit of a honey moon…in Saudi Arabia I wonder if pilgrims to Mecca are getting a sly look at results on the internet. It is a form of collective escapism on a global scale, a distraction from our daily routines and troubles.
The other theory is a little bit more difficult to back up and perhaps a little more limited in application to Bangladesh. But, there is little doubt that bar a massive world war there is no other event than the World Cup which has such a global reach and which brings home the idea that at the end of the day, we are all human. Bangladeshis who know nothing about football will happily discuss tactics with an Irishman who knows perhaps a tad more. They’ll drape flags of countries they know nothing about anywhere they can. Why? It’s pretty simple: they too want to be join the global party. They don’t want to be excluded because they are poor or because their national team is crap. These over the top flags are a statement: Look at us…yes we’re poor, we’re often flooded, we’ve our fair share of fundamentalist but hey, just like you in Cameroon, Poland, Australia and Chile, we too are loving this party!’
So, as I get ready for a week long holiday in Nepal, I say Viva the World Cup and even more-so Viva the World Cup – Bangladesh style.
(lazy Michael will post photos of said flags soon!!!)
Since I’ve arrived here, the only thing anyone could say about Ireland was that we have a cricket team which is pretty much on a par with Bangladesh i.e. not the best. At no point did anyone mention say Packie Bonner, Roy Keane, Damien Duff or even our beloved Thierry Henry. But all of that changed with the world cup….well I’m exaggerating a little but I have heard Keano’s name mentioned a few times recently.
It all began in mid- May when I took a trip to Dhaka and noticed some giant flags been flown on rooftops all over the city. It was pretty crazy but I thought it must be some Dhaka thing….but low and behold, by June 1st the World Cup had come to simple Satkhira. Flags are flown from anywhere and can often be 5x5metres in size draping over the sleeping day labourers returning from a days work on the top of big old Bedford trucks. There are flags everywhere and I guess 95% of them are Argentinean and Brazilian! Ah, that’d be because of Bangladesh’s long and distinguished history of trade with the South Americans and its illustrious football history….ah no! Ask someone who they support and they’ll say Argentina or Brazil and some will tell you they have two teams: Argentina and Brazil! Asked why, the usual answer is Pele and Maradona. Most will then mention Kaka and Messi though many haven’t a clue which one plays for Brazil and which one Argentina. But this is only the beginning.
I have the pleasure of having a TV in my spare room, and, as I live in the same building as our office, it was decided that mine would be the ‘bar’ of choice for watching the world cup. Never has one who enjoyed company while watching matches; I reluctantly agreed that this was a smashing idea and that I love watching football with friends. This however, is where things turn Bangladeshi. Obviously with no alcohol to liven things up and with matches so far being pretty uninteresting, we are forced to chat. Chat on a good day is hard work here, but chat about something like football (as those who have zero interest in the sport will tell you) is not really that simple. Here though, it is exactly that, with comments often like ‘Argentina very nice team’ ‘Spain no good team’ ‘Goalkeeper is best player’ ‘Playing is Messi?’ or ‘Slovenia…Hard team!’. My favourite however are similar to those Ray D’arcy used to ask on Blackboard Jungle such as ‘Greece is European Country?’ ‘Mexico?’ ‘Honduras is Africa?’ or ‘Africa is cold country?’ ‘Germany is today rich country?’ In fairness I know my friends here are just trying to learn something new but conversations about the Greek or Irish Economic disasters are a) way too complicated for conversations greatly restricted by language problems b) practically every country bar none in the EU if not the Council of Europe is a rich country compared to Bangladesh.
On the other hand, there is something incredibly bizarre going on here. Bangladeshi’s by and large have no idea about football…when I say no idea I mean along the lines of someone who does their very best despite the media bullshit to ignore football back in Europe. Yet, while in Europe most of these people ignore the world cup; in Bangladesh people who otherwise couldn’t care less about Messi etc, who use soccer pitches either for grazing cattle or for playing cricket, are now absolutely obsessed with what’s happening down in South Africa. This obsession has already hit levels I thought impossible to reach. For example power shortages meant most of us 160,000,000 people would be lucky to get one half of each match. However, after some sober Bangladeshi hooligans in Dhaka attacked the power office in protest at missing half an Argentina match, the Bangladesh Government, which at the moment is incredibly unpopular, strongly encouraged all industries to stop producing during match times. Given that these are the same factories which already pay large sums for generators etc, it seems mightily unfair and economically suicidal to tell these companies that between 5.30-3a.m., they must stop all operations. Whether they followed the recommendations or not; the power situation has not improved. On the other hand, you have fields in the middle of small communities which have big screens where hundreds of people (read men) will watch football until 3am and then get up for work at 8am.
So what is it about Bangladesh and the World Cup that makes its people, young, old, male and female, adopt a team (read Brazil or Argentina). I’ve seen my director receive a phone call from his wife boasting that her team is winning. What makes them, rich and poor, buy materials with which to create a humongous Dutch flag? But maybe I’m phrasing the question incorrectly. Instead maybe I should ask what is it about the world cup that makes a country with no so-called footballing history become its biggest fans? I don’t have an answer but do have a few theories.
One is that the World Cup presents all Bangladeshi’s with an opportunity to forget the water shortages, the electricity blackouts (kinda), the upcoming monsoon, the tragedies in extremely overcrowded buildings and buses. Similarly in Ireland I assume the World Cup is calming talk of recessions. In the US, maybe it’s distracting people from the BP mess. In the UK, it could be providing David Cameron with a bit of a honey moon…in Saudi Arabia I wonder if pilgrims to Mecca are getting a sly look at results on the internet. It is a form of collective escapism on a global scale, a distraction from our daily routines and troubles.
The other theory is a little bit more difficult to back up and perhaps a little more limited in application to Bangladesh. But, there is little doubt that bar a massive world war there is no other event than the World Cup which has such a global reach and which brings home the idea that at the end of the day, we are all human. Bangladeshis who know nothing about football will happily discuss tactics with an Irishman who knows perhaps a tad more. They’ll drape flags of countries they know nothing about anywhere they can. Why? It’s pretty simple: they too want to be join the global party. They don’t want to be excluded because they are poor or because their national team is crap. These over the top flags are a statement: Look at us…yes we’re poor, we’re often flooded, we’ve our fair share of fundamentalist but hey, just like you in Cameroon, Poland, Australia and Chile, we too are loving this party!’
So, as I get ready for a week long holiday in Nepal, I say Viva the World Cup and even more-so Viva the World Cup – Bangladesh style.
(lazy Michael will post photos of said flags soon!!!)
Tuesday, 1 June 2010
Happy birthday - sorry but facebook has been blocked by the govt of Bangladesh
It was my birthday on Sunday and I feel obliged to share the randomness of that celebration.
A birthday in Bangladesh is capable of doing strange things to the mind and so, for this reason, I decided to breach by self-imposed ban on going to Dhaka, in order to have a celebratory night out with a few friends. In fact, there were three of us, Paddy Englishman, Irishman and Scotsman, whose birthdays fell within four or five days of eachother. And in true British Isles’ style, a gang of us celebrated by drinking into the early hours of the morning, annoying neighbours and sleeping on sofas.
The next evening I set off for Satkhira and was back on the morning of the 29th. Bloody 10hours bus journey plus the predictable chaos when I forgot my wallet on the bus, left me wrecked as we spent the day observing an ‘open-budget programme’ within a kilometre of the tiger’s paradise.
On the morning of the 30th, I awoke to a text message from a Bengali admirer (less said about this the better) and a seriously grumpy self. Yet as the mails came in from friends home and abroad, I began to feel much better – for this I say thanks!
On the other hand, I certainly do not thank Sheikh Hasina and the Bangladesh Government who decided to block access to facebook because of some cartoons ridiculing senior political figures in this country. And the block is still imposed!
By evening, my work was complete but, for some reason, I was not allowed to enter my room upstairs. Bemused, I went for a cup of tea and on return found all the staff waiting at the bottom of the stairs. As I followed the now very excited Project Coordinator Diponcur around the corner, I noticed that candles had been lit either side of the staircase. As I entered the room, I was greeted by balloons, a cake with 16candles, decorations and lots of food (mango, banana, mishti, jackfruit and the obligatory veggie pastries). Obliged to blow out the candles very slowly for the camera, it was then time for ‘family’ photos.
First up were the ladies: all the female staff, my director’s two daughters, two neighbours and a survivor from acid violence who just happened to call by to discuss her situation.
Then the men, each more excited than the next and of course, finally they had to get one of Michael on his own sporting a very awkward pose. After cutting the cake a few times, it was my turn to sing a song and for some reason I resorted to one we learned in the Gaeltacht called ‘BÃ ann’ from Kila….anyway despite adding some non-gaelic words to make up for my amnesia, they were all chuffed.
Fifteen minutes for food was followed by a very abrupt end to proceeedings. That was it, a party which reminded me most of one I had as a 9 or 10 year old and which despite its incredibly tight and structured schedule, was an amazing gesture from people who never celebrate birthdays beyond the age of 16or so.
A random but extremely enjoyable hour and a pretty good birthday on the whole.
Friday, 21 May 2010
A blank page
Crossing a river with three colleagues after one of our strategic planning meetings
Every story, blog post, novel, documentary, film, plan or song starts with a blank page.
And this blank page is my explanation for why I have written little about my work here. I came here with specific experiences, skills and a good education but putting these into practise in a developing country is extremely difficult. In essence you really do start with a blank page and it takes a long time to figure out where to start.
The other reason is that it's very difficult to explain in detail the work of a VSO volunteer. Though it varies from placement to placement, most of us have responsibilities in the ‘Capacity Building’ sector. Most of us are consultants or to use another bland and for me disturbing term, ‘agents of change’. We bring with us certain skills and we are supposed to share them with our partner organizations. As the VSO motto goes, by doing this we can change lives.
All of this is obviously extremely generic and vague. It doesn’t explain what capacity we are supposed to be building or whose lives we might change.
Me, I’m an ‘advocacy and networking advisor’ and to be honest I really dislike the title. My Advisory role falls under VSO’s Good Governance programme and the work I do should ultimately lead to the improvement of local governance and greater inclusion of the local marginalized people in the deliberative process of that governance.
But what I actually do each day is very far removed from that aim: Going go to the office every morning, sitting in front of my computer; now and again running a workshop or attending some of the hundred activities which the organization runs every month. How this equates to improving governance is at best complicated but at worst negative.
My principal focus at the moment is to lead the process for developing the organization’s new five year strategic plan. Now I know that strategic plans have a bad name. I know that most people think ‘Document which will not be implemented but which has been produced following an expensive and drawn out process.’ But I’m hoping that this time, things will be different. :)
I began by holding individual meetings with most of the staff where they explained to me their understanding of Human Rights and Good Governance, their views of the organization and their reasons for working in the organization. This itself was fascinating. Most of the staffs have a vague and limited understanding of governance or human rights even if these are the principle activities of the organization. The majority are here because they need the cash not because they have this amazing motivation to bring about change in the lives of their fellow citizens. Yet, these are the very people who work from 9am – 8pm six days a week. They value their jobs and therefore are committed to fulfilling their duties. If they could be a little bit more informed about the issues they are dealing with, then their motivation would improve and they could easily multiply the effects of their work.
The next step involved some of those same staff running workshops with the organization’s main stakeholders to find out what they believe are the biggest causes of poverty and injustice in Satkhira Ditrict: 3 focus group discussions with the most marginalized groups, one meeting with local NGOs, one with a group of female adolescents and one with those who are horribly called ‘local elites’. Each meeting threw up something different whether it be that staff generally have very limited facilitation and empowerment skills despite holding close to a thousand meetings every year, or the fact that people felt their greatest troubles are those created by the local environment and weather despite the fact that Bangladesh was in its recent past deemed most corrupt country in the world or that most of the marginalized are basically excluded from mainstream society and its benefits.
The process is coming to an end now and last week I followed up intriguing staff questionnaire responses with a one-day workshop where we grappled with the differences between a programme and a project, with whether climate change should have its own programme or be a cross cutting issue in the other three programmes. We also looked at organizational development and reluctantly discussed issues ranging from increasing salaries to designating a specific toilet for female staff members to developing an Income Generating Activity so that the organization can be sustainable and jobs more secure.
Over the next three weeks, I'll be trying to translate the issues which stakeholders have identified into projects which will form part of holistic programmes which have been commonly identified by all staff. After a few more consultations on the draft strategy, it will be adopted.
But how does this ensure that local governance or participation will improve? Sadly, it doesn’t.
But the theory goes that if the organization is focussing on the right issues as per the views of the most impoverished people, if staff appreciate their role in bringing about change, if the organization moves from project to programme focus then maybe, just maybe, they can work more conherently and effectively and therefore improve governance and participation. (VSO sees these as being major tools in reducing poverty and I agree)
The trouble is that this is all very flimsy. But I hope that by continuing over the next 6months to train staff on things like on facilitation or programme planning using a rights based approach that a real change will eventually come about in their thinking and practise; that once the training centre is built, profits it generates can be used to hold on to and invest in staff whose projects have finsihed instead of hiring new staff for projects determined by say some german missionaries. If the organization's own projects are based on a holistic programmatic and long term approach to reducing poverty and improving the capacity of local governments, then yes, my work will have been beneficial. Unfortunately, it may take three or even five years before this becomes evident.
And, this is the greatest difficulty which VSO faces; how to evaluate its impact. It is also probably the most difficult part of the job – maintaining motivation to carry out day to day activities which may or may not come to fruition....
So this is my job. It is not particularly unique or exciting yet there is a part of it which, for me, is fascinating. It is, however, based on a philosophy which says that the best way of sustainably reducing poverty and injustice is to build the capacity of organization's and people in developing countries so that they can do the rest themselves.
I just hope, that like my writing process over the past couple of hours, it doesn’t result in another blank page.
What do you think, is the VSO way the way to go or are we better off investing directly in building bridges, schools, roads and police forces?
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Thursday, 6 May 2010
A day in the life
Everyone’s day begins in one way or another with waking up and of course my own is no different. But to really understand a day in the life of anyone, you need to understand their mood before they went to sleep. This is why my day begins in darkness and ends in darkness.
It’s around 8pm and I’ve just finished dinner. Everything is going well and I’ve just a few things to do before I lie down for the evening. Suddenly blackout. Of course this is not unexpected but I’d hoped it wouldn’t come for another half-hour or so. Because of this I’m unprepared; I don’t have my torch with me and probably don’t even know exactly where I’ve left my mobile. I curse myself as I struggle around in search of some kind of light. Eventually I get the phone and then the torch. Right, that’s it - there’s no chance I’m washing the dishes tonight, nor will I be washing clothes or sitting at my desk or in fact doing anything which isn't a necessity. You see, when all you have is a torch you will more than likely bump into something you didn’t want to see or get attacked by moths who have seen the light. So, I set about my chores with conviction. I brush my teeth while hoping the cockroaches beside the sink haven’t ventured out into the darkness yet. I pick up my cloth which was once an expensive jumper bought in Canada but which today serves to wipe clean the dust from my newly installed bamboo mat (no need for a sheet as the bamboo mat lets the air through allowing for a much more comfortable sleep). Then down with the mosquito net as quickly as possible, tucking it in pretty carefully to ensure there’ll be no unwanted guests joining me during the night. Next is the shower: bucket and jug, cold water (fantastic when stressed by mosquitoes, moths etc)….relief! Dried off and ready to face the music outside the door. After about 20minutes of darkness the cockroaches, usually no more than three of them, come out to inspect my kitchen. I usually meet one outside the bathroom or at the entrance to my bedroom which causes my heart to race and the sweat which I thought I had just washed off to pump again. The cockroaches actually don’t attack they just run around in circles making it especially difficult to guide them away from my room. Eventually with some nifty footwork, they are sent about as far away as a Martin McHugh kick-out back in 1994.
Now, I’m ready for bed…computer plugged in ready for the power to come back, sitting on my bamboo mat with mouse and internet cable. In with me, on with computer and ready for some reading, writing, emails, music, film or series…but then I remember, I haven’t turned off the fans or the lights which are still on since the power is gone…out again…then i’ve forgotten the phone…out again…
Eventually I get settled but spend the first 20minutes killing mosquitoes that are attracted to the computer screen handy enough. By now however, I’m sticky and anxious and by the time I’ve finished on the computer I’m not really comfortable…by 11.30 however, I’m drifting and soon I’m gone for the night….stressed and wrecked.
I normally wake up around 7am and my alarm clock will range from the kids outside, a noisy old van passing by or the cleaner banging on my steel door. I turn around to have a gawk out my window and spot my 8year old neighbour heading to our backyard with about 4empty water bottles. She’s fresh as a daisy as are the kid goats climbing on the stack of bricks across the road. Robby, a 5year warrior, is of course annoying the same goats and every day I ask myself the same thing: how the hell is it that these kids have so much energy, they are always up before me, always running around all day and are still to be heard when I’m hiding in my mosquito net at night.
Anyway I grudgingly pull myself out of bed, pour the water I boiled the night before into the filter and steep some clothes for washing. I open the door to let Nobilla, the cleaning lady, in to fly around the kitchen and my bedroom with a broom and a mop…fifteen minutes later, my bin has been emptied outside the front door of the building and Nobilla is gone. By this point I’ve had my banana, oats and natural yoghurt, my coffee and my toast. I’ve washed those damn dishes from the night before (maybe) and I’m now making a half-effort at washing my clothes. Shower finished and all cables gathered together, teeth brushed, three litres of bottled filtered water and off for work I go…It is now 9am and I walk the grand total of 13steps downstairs to the office. I settle down at my computer and away we go.
My working day is from 9-5 with lunch for an hour sometime and some tea thrown in there at some point too but I’m not gunna go into detail about what I do at work in this post. By 1.30 or so I head either upstairs to cook or to the nearby hospital for rice and spicy chicken curry. Yip, I regularly choose to eat in a hospital because there are no other restaurants suitable for someone who is not a huge chilli fan. If I cook at home it usually varies from Kitchuri (Rice, lentils and spuds with some spices) to pasta with a homemade and generally poorly made tomato based sauce. With tomatoes no longer available I’ll have to invent some other sauce (maybe lentils?) soon. I usually leave the office by 6 and head for a much deserved cigarette, a cup of tea and banter around the fact that Michael is soo tall, doesn’t know how to cook, isn’t married and really struggles with mosquitoes. Truth be told, this is as good as the craic gets and it definitely keeps me sane and good humoured even if it is a bit repetitive. By 7pm I’m back in my apartment and depending on the weather and any number of things, maybe I’ll have power maybe I won’t but I will have to start cooking again soon…
This may all seem a bit pedantic or daft but it is the way things are. It is not to say that there will be no surprises; on the contrary I experience something new at least once a day. Today for example I went to see my colleague’s pond which he rents to a fisherman for about 400euros a year. While there I picked a lime from a tree and then headed off to the local club to play karam (like pool but you play with little plastic pieces the size of a coin and with your finger…)I also returned to power, turned on my lights and fans and steeped some clothes BUT by the time I had the clothes steeped I returned to a kitchen literally full of moths…maybe a hundred or more….
You see, this is why I start in the evening…my day is not so tiring generally but it is by the time that I actually get to sleep that the stress of coping with the unexpected, the mosquitoes, the darkness, the moths, flies and cockroaches, that I’m absolutely wrecked.
But I’m not complaining, I live in a pretty decent place, with running water, shelter and electricity and there are hundreds of people living within one kilometre radius of me who don’t have those basics…and with the rain now bucketing down I’m sure as hell happy my day doesn’t sound anything like theirs.
It’s around 8pm and I’ve just finished dinner. Everything is going well and I’ve just a few things to do before I lie down for the evening. Suddenly blackout. Of course this is not unexpected but I’d hoped it wouldn’t come for another half-hour or so. Because of this I’m unprepared; I don’t have my torch with me and probably don’t even know exactly where I’ve left my mobile. I curse myself as I struggle around in search of some kind of light. Eventually I get the phone and then the torch. Right, that’s it - there’s no chance I’m washing the dishes tonight, nor will I be washing clothes or sitting at my desk or in fact doing anything which isn't a necessity. You see, when all you have is a torch you will more than likely bump into something you didn’t want to see or get attacked by moths who have seen the light. So, I set about my chores with conviction. I brush my teeth while hoping the cockroaches beside the sink haven’t ventured out into the darkness yet. I pick up my cloth which was once an expensive jumper bought in Canada but which today serves to wipe clean the dust from my newly installed bamboo mat (no need for a sheet as the bamboo mat lets the air through allowing for a much more comfortable sleep). Then down with the mosquito net as quickly as possible, tucking it in pretty carefully to ensure there’ll be no unwanted guests joining me during the night. Next is the shower: bucket and jug, cold water (fantastic when stressed by mosquitoes, moths etc)….relief! Dried off and ready to face the music outside the door. After about 20minutes of darkness the cockroaches, usually no more than three of them, come out to inspect my kitchen. I usually meet one outside the bathroom or at the entrance to my bedroom which causes my heart to race and the sweat which I thought I had just washed off to pump again. The cockroaches actually don’t attack they just run around in circles making it especially difficult to guide them away from my room. Eventually with some nifty footwork, they are sent about as far away as a Martin McHugh kick-out back in 1994.
Now, I’m ready for bed…computer plugged in ready for the power to come back, sitting on my bamboo mat with mouse and internet cable. In with me, on with computer and ready for some reading, writing, emails, music, film or series…but then I remember, I haven’t turned off the fans or the lights which are still on since the power is gone…out again…then i’ve forgotten the phone…out again…
Eventually I get settled but spend the first 20minutes killing mosquitoes that are attracted to the computer screen handy enough. By now however, I’m sticky and anxious and by the time I’ve finished on the computer I’m not really comfortable…by 11.30 however, I’m drifting and soon I’m gone for the night….stressed and wrecked.
I normally wake up around 7am and my alarm clock will range from the kids outside, a noisy old van passing by or the cleaner banging on my steel door. I turn around to have a gawk out my window and spot my 8year old neighbour heading to our backyard with about 4empty water bottles. She’s fresh as a daisy as are the kid goats climbing on the stack of bricks across the road. Robby, a 5year warrior, is of course annoying the same goats and every day I ask myself the same thing: how the hell is it that these kids have so much energy, they are always up before me, always running around all day and are still to be heard when I’m hiding in my mosquito net at night.
Anyway I grudgingly pull myself out of bed, pour the water I boiled the night before into the filter and steep some clothes for washing. I open the door to let Nobilla, the cleaning lady, in to fly around the kitchen and my bedroom with a broom and a mop…fifteen minutes later, my bin has been emptied outside the front door of the building and Nobilla is gone. By this point I’ve had my banana, oats and natural yoghurt, my coffee and my toast. I’ve washed those damn dishes from the night before (maybe) and I’m now making a half-effort at washing my clothes. Shower finished and all cables gathered together, teeth brushed, three litres of bottled filtered water and off for work I go…It is now 9am and I walk the grand total of 13steps downstairs to the office. I settle down at my computer and away we go.
My working day is from 9-5 with lunch for an hour sometime and some tea thrown in there at some point too but I’m not gunna go into detail about what I do at work in this post. By 1.30 or so I head either upstairs to cook or to the nearby hospital for rice and spicy chicken curry. Yip, I regularly choose to eat in a hospital because there are no other restaurants suitable for someone who is not a huge chilli fan. If I cook at home it usually varies from Kitchuri (Rice, lentils and spuds with some spices) to pasta with a homemade and generally poorly made tomato based sauce. With tomatoes no longer available I’ll have to invent some other sauce (maybe lentils?) soon. I usually leave the office by 6 and head for a much deserved cigarette, a cup of tea and banter around the fact that Michael is soo tall, doesn’t know how to cook, isn’t married and really struggles with mosquitoes. Truth be told, this is as good as the craic gets and it definitely keeps me sane and good humoured even if it is a bit repetitive. By 7pm I’m back in my apartment and depending on the weather and any number of things, maybe I’ll have power maybe I won’t but I will have to start cooking again soon…
This may all seem a bit pedantic or daft but it is the way things are. It is not to say that there will be no surprises; on the contrary I experience something new at least once a day. Today for example I went to see my colleague’s pond which he rents to a fisherman for about 400euros a year. While there I picked a lime from a tree and then headed off to the local club to play karam (like pool but you play with little plastic pieces the size of a coin and with your finger…)I also returned to power, turned on my lights and fans and steeped some clothes BUT by the time I had the clothes steeped I returned to a kitchen literally full of moths…maybe a hundred or more….
You see, this is why I start in the evening…my day is not so tiring generally but it is by the time that I actually get to sleep that the stress of coping with the unexpected, the mosquitoes, the darkness, the moths, flies and cockroaches, that I’m absolutely wrecked.
But I’m not complaining, I live in a pretty decent place, with running water, shelter and electricity and there are hundreds of people living within one kilometre radius of me who don’t have those basics…and with the rain now bucketing down I’m sure as hell happy my day doesn’t sound anything like theirs.
Friday, 23 April 2010
Charity…what’s the point?
I’ve been writing this post for over 10 days now. Every time I sit down to write it I end up missing the point, confusing the issues and creating something which is more self-righteous than any other post I have written here. I don’t want to belittle the fantastic efforts and work being done by people all over the world in charitable organization all over the world. I have no right to do so and in fact know that my post and thoughts are not about that. So, after over 20pages of writing, here goes:
I received an email from a friend the other day. WOW…an email…a friend…yes you guessed it there’s a tad more to it than that. My mate is a very well meaning and deep thinking guy and in this email I found a person living quite the good life but at the same time, struggling to get his head around the immense inequalities between the lives and lifestyles of people in different parts of the world. He was questioning whether it was right to blow €150 on a night out or €100 on a nice lunch while knowing that homeless people beg for the price of a cup of coffee or the majority of people in countries like Bangladesh struggle through life on less that a dollar a day. He didn’t really answer the question but instead talked first about respecting the position in which he finds himself and secondly volunteering to help out those in need.
The email got me thinking a lot about charity or volunteering or whatever you want to call it. Most people get involved in such activities or donate large amounts of money because they believe perhaps subconsciously that firstly, deep down there’s something wrong with a world which just accepts major inequalities as a given and, secondly, that because of their status and moral or religious beliefs they have to give something back to humanity…I suppose it’s a kind of balancing of the scales if you wish.
But to me, charity work rarely balances the scales; certainly not the scales of justice. I am not criticising charity workers nor am I even questioning the freedom of people to do as they wish with their money but what I am questioning is the thinking behind charity, a thinking which leaves charity workers implementing programmes which rarely do more that address the immediate concerns of their beneficiaries and a thinking which refuses to allocate responsibility for wrongs committed. Ultimately I am questioning the choice upon which charity is based.
Charity is based on need and uses funds given voluntarily by the general public or governments to meet those needs. It therefore sees kind people (donors) and unfortunate people (the needy). When the massive earthquake hit Haiti recently, a tremendous flow of cash was sent its way through charities and state development agencies. To me, aside from concerns about corruption and waste, this was a purpose for which charity should be used – an emergency during which millions died and many more would go the same way but for the arrival of aid.
So when people are dying en masse because of an earthquake, people react as if overcome by an obligation to intervene, but when people are continuously dying or, for me at a similar level of importance, continuously living in undignified poverty, because of underdevelopment, persecution, corruption and exploitation, any sense of obligation is greatly disputed.
Why does society (individual, and collective, local, national, international) recognize an obligation to people who suffer incredible pain from a natural disaster (ignoring for a moment poor building standards etc) but yet refuse to recognize an obligation for those whose pain has been caused by the actions of others? In development circles this argument is known as charity versus justice argument and often gets swallowed up by the following statements:
1) We cannot be held liable for the actions of our fore-fathers
2) We cannot be responsible for people who live millions of miles away.
3) We cannot be held responsible when these people slaughter themselves or destroy any chance of escaping poverty because of laziness, corruption and continuous warfare.
So what is the relationship between these three statements and charity? Well, if we are not to blame for any of this, but feel we must fulfil some sort of an obligation imposed on us by our moral or religious codes, we resort to charity. We build roads. We set up orphanages. We send bicycles, old clothes and food………
But, we do not ask questions. We do not admit that our forefathers have plundered these lands and that our superior standards of living are DIRECTLY linked to those actions. We ignore the state in which colonists left countries while criticising them for failing to calm ethnic tensions. We do not admit that western states sponsored wars in developing countries during the Cold War. We do not admit that imposed Western neo-liberal policies actually caused more poverty than it eradicated in the 80’s and early 90’s. We ignore the fact that Western companies are often as guilty if not more of corruption as the developing country officials. We refuse to accept that international trade policies give developed countries unfair advantages in global trade especially agriculture. We mock those who claim that the laws protecting the intellectually property rights of western pharmaceuticals prevent developing countries from accessing life saving medicines! We reluctantly accept that Western countries have created climate change yet refuse to actually do anything about because the major effects are happening elsewhere. We ignore the contradictory nature of our policies by criticizing the human rights and democracy records of developing countries while allowing American Fighter jets use our countries to refuel or conduct rendition flights to wage internationally recognized ILLEGAL wars in Iraq, Somalia etc. And while some progress has been made on these issues over the past 10years, this was because of pressure and not because of an acknowledgement of our obligations.
So instead of giving that extra ten euros to charity, how about we demand that our governments actually deliver on the funds they are obliged to deliver on our behalf (compensation)? How about we demand that our governments hold our TNCs to account for illegal acts in developing countries? How about we ensure that our national and international policies do not harm developing countries?
I’ve been told since primary school that it is good to make a reference to the introduction in the conclusion, so to finish I guess I should come back to my friend’s email.
He volunteers to help homeless people and I have two questions about that: Firstly, does a person becomes homeless all by her/himself, independent of society or the actions or omissions of others? If not then who else was responsible and what is being done to actually deal with that. Secondly, is it right to leave the dignity of our fellow human beings dependent on the good nature of another? I certainly don’t think so and I’m sure that there are about a billion people living in perpetual poverty in developing countries alone who would agree.
I received an email from a friend the other day. WOW…an email…a friend…yes you guessed it there’s a tad more to it than that. My mate is a very well meaning and deep thinking guy and in this email I found a person living quite the good life but at the same time, struggling to get his head around the immense inequalities between the lives and lifestyles of people in different parts of the world. He was questioning whether it was right to blow €150 on a night out or €100 on a nice lunch while knowing that homeless people beg for the price of a cup of coffee or the majority of people in countries like Bangladesh struggle through life on less that a dollar a day. He didn’t really answer the question but instead talked first about respecting the position in which he finds himself and secondly volunteering to help out those in need.
The email got me thinking a lot about charity or volunteering or whatever you want to call it. Most people get involved in such activities or donate large amounts of money because they believe perhaps subconsciously that firstly, deep down there’s something wrong with a world which just accepts major inequalities as a given and, secondly, that because of their status and moral or religious beliefs they have to give something back to humanity…I suppose it’s a kind of balancing of the scales if you wish.
But to me, charity work rarely balances the scales; certainly not the scales of justice. I am not criticising charity workers nor am I even questioning the freedom of people to do as they wish with their money but what I am questioning is the thinking behind charity, a thinking which leaves charity workers implementing programmes which rarely do more that address the immediate concerns of their beneficiaries and a thinking which refuses to allocate responsibility for wrongs committed. Ultimately I am questioning the choice upon which charity is based.
Charity is based on need and uses funds given voluntarily by the general public or governments to meet those needs. It therefore sees kind people (donors) and unfortunate people (the needy). When the massive earthquake hit Haiti recently, a tremendous flow of cash was sent its way through charities and state development agencies. To me, aside from concerns about corruption and waste, this was a purpose for which charity should be used – an emergency during which millions died and many more would go the same way but for the arrival of aid.
So when people are dying en masse because of an earthquake, people react as if overcome by an obligation to intervene, but when people are continuously dying or, for me at a similar level of importance, continuously living in undignified poverty, because of underdevelopment, persecution, corruption and exploitation, any sense of obligation is greatly disputed.
Why does society (individual, and collective, local, national, international) recognize an obligation to people who suffer incredible pain from a natural disaster (ignoring for a moment poor building standards etc) but yet refuse to recognize an obligation for those whose pain has been caused by the actions of others? In development circles this argument is known as charity versus justice argument and often gets swallowed up by the following statements:
1) We cannot be held liable for the actions of our fore-fathers
2) We cannot be responsible for people who live millions of miles away.
3) We cannot be held responsible when these people slaughter themselves or destroy any chance of escaping poverty because of laziness, corruption and continuous warfare.
So what is the relationship between these three statements and charity? Well, if we are not to blame for any of this, but feel we must fulfil some sort of an obligation imposed on us by our moral or religious codes, we resort to charity. We build roads. We set up orphanages. We send bicycles, old clothes and food………
But, we do not ask questions. We do not admit that our forefathers have plundered these lands and that our superior standards of living are DIRECTLY linked to those actions. We ignore the state in which colonists left countries while criticising them for failing to calm ethnic tensions. We do not admit that western states sponsored wars in developing countries during the Cold War. We do not admit that imposed Western neo-liberal policies actually caused more poverty than it eradicated in the 80’s and early 90’s. We ignore the fact that Western companies are often as guilty if not more of corruption as the developing country officials. We refuse to accept that international trade policies give developed countries unfair advantages in global trade especially agriculture. We mock those who claim that the laws protecting the intellectually property rights of western pharmaceuticals prevent developing countries from accessing life saving medicines! We reluctantly accept that Western countries have created climate change yet refuse to actually do anything about because the major effects are happening elsewhere. We ignore the contradictory nature of our policies by criticizing the human rights and democracy records of developing countries while allowing American Fighter jets use our countries to refuel or conduct rendition flights to wage internationally recognized ILLEGAL wars in Iraq, Somalia etc. And while some progress has been made on these issues over the past 10years, this was because of pressure and not because of an acknowledgement of our obligations.
So instead of giving that extra ten euros to charity, how about we demand that our governments actually deliver on the funds they are obliged to deliver on our behalf (compensation)? How about we demand that our governments hold our TNCs to account for illegal acts in developing countries? How about we ensure that our national and international policies do not harm developing countries?
I’ve been told since primary school that it is good to make a reference to the introduction in the conclusion, so to finish I guess I should come back to my friend’s email.
He volunteers to help homeless people and I have two questions about that: Firstly, does a person becomes homeless all by her/himself, independent of society or the actions or omissions of others? If not then who else was responsible and what is being done to actually deal with that. Secondly, is it right to leave the dignity of our fellow human beings dependent on the good nature of another? I certainly don’t think so and I’m sure that there are about a billion people living in perpetual poverty in developing countries alone who would agree.
Thursday, 22 April 2010
Photo of the week: The condom contest!
There are so many inappropriate things I could say about this photo, but of course as they are inappropriate I'll keep them to myself. The two girls are the final two contestants in the battle to burst the blown up condoms (or balloon in Bangla). I think it's incredibly Bangladeshi not to see the irony behind this yet there is also something incredibly irish in me that for a second, I felt almost embarassed when they offered me a few blown up ones for myself. Oh and yes, this is how we celebrate the new year in Bangladesh...1417 is gunna be a good one! More photos from this wacky and enjoyable day in the sidebar.
Tuesday, 13 April 2010
Photo of the week: Firoz and twins
I was walking around the side roads on my own for the first time since I arrived in Satlhkira. It was a Friday afternoon, the sun was cooling off and the place was for once pretty quiet. I spotted two little boys down a sideroad and they willfully posed for the camera...but being a crap photographer, the shot was pretty crap! Suddenly Papa comes out and when he sees me he hails me to come to him. At first I was thinking 'Shit' but then I said to myself no it'll be fine he looks friendly. Of course, when I came closer I realised there was never gunna be a problem as the papa was our organization's accountant and a guy who I am now pretty good friends with.
He was more than happy to pose for a shot with his bewildered twins.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
Women!
Some of you may have noticed that I haven’t written anything of substance in a long time. I’ve been pretty busy trying to settle in yet haven’t really achieved that. I finish work every evening around 5.30, go drink tea in a tea stall, wander around the market without buying anything (not because I know I’m being ripped off but because I might bump into some of our staff who’ll know even by looking at me that the poor ole foreigner has been made a fool of, AGAIN). Otherwise I cook, eat, wait for the electricity to go and then one hour later come back, sweat, shower and then sleep….so as you can see, I’ve hardly been rushed off my feet.
So what has been holding me back? Well, basically it’s Bangladesh: there are so many things happening - so many contrasts, so much poverty, discrimination, so many practical problems so many small problems, so many major political developments, so many conflicting values and views in society – that ultimately everything you know or believe in is challenged. And when this happens, you find that forming coherent and above all else balanced views, is pretty damn difficult. In short living in Bangladesh leaves you permanently confused (no change there I hear you say).
I’ve wanted to write about gender discrimination here for a long time but have been struggling with the idea that an honest assessment would either fall under the ‘patronising, righteous, domineering white man’ category or would see me question the so-called universal values I came here with.
I came here believing that though we have completely different backgrounds, religions and experiences, none of this can change the fact that ultimately we are all human beings who need to eat, drink, sleep, work, be understood and cared for. The idea was that above all else, we are all equal. But living in Bangladesh does force you to think again…
Let me give you an example.
Women here are frankly treated like shit. They majority do not participate in life outside of the home. They do worse than men in almost all key statistics such as education and health care access or income generation. They have little hope of justice before male dominated and class defined courts. They suffer violence inside the home, have ACID thrown on them or are simply tortured to death for turning down a marriage proposal and are often trafficked to an even more horrible existence because they bring shame on the family by being teased for being young, pretty and unmarried. Their dress code means they must always cover all natural bumps on their bodies even in 40degree heat while being treated by a professional medical doctor. Not only do women eat last in any family gathering but they consequently eat least also. The list goes on and on and on…
So I’ve been confused and struggle to see how the hell we can claim that Human Rights are universal when so many women suffer daily in just one small Asian country? You are left to conclude that either you were wrong and women are lesser beings than men and therefore have no right to be treated with the same respect as men …..
or….
you conclude that the culture in this country is rotten to the core, that men are so driven by power that they will use anything including their faith to strengthen and monopolize that power; that the religious leaders have at worst used their faith to intentionally humiliate women or at best allowed their faith to be manipulated to do the same.
You either completely forget everything you were ever taught or you tell others that everything they believe in is not only untrue but archaic and unacceptable…..I don’t like either conclusion which is why I didn’t’ feel I could write about the issue.
But thankfully, it seems Bangladeshi’s are quickly coming to learn that their culture and country can no longer continue as it has been doing and therefore I can conclude that yes, it is the latter but only because it is a minority who really believe in that ‘culture’. The two leading parties are led by women, the parliament has reserved 30% seats for women; predominantly female garment workers are leading the countries biggest export industry and therefore leading independent if challenging lives. Microcredit, despite its flaws, is empowering other women to leave the grasp of their husbands; thousands of organizations all over the country are confronting damaging traditions on a regular basis; even Agrogoti Sangtha (where I work) are trying to ensure women’s participation in local politics and provide adolescent with girls the knowledge, tools and skills to protect themselves. So Bengali’s are challenging the romanticism which surrounds culture, traditions and religions and they should be mightily proud of themselves.
But, unfortunately the biggest challenge lays ahead…Soon the ruling party’s War Crimes Tribunal will start trying those responsible for war crimes during the Liberation War against Pakistan in the 70’s. Among the accused will in all likelihood be members of the Islamic fundamentalist party which alone will be dangerous. But more dangerous are the predominantly Muslim Party the BNP (claiming to be more moderate) and if they decide to play politics with this, to attack the current government’s efforts in the name of Islam….then the fireworks will start…and who will be the first to suffer…of course… women.
As I say a pretty confusing place.
So what has been holding me back? Well, basically it’s Bangladesh: there are so many things happening - so many contrasts, so much poverty, discrimination, so many practical problems so many small problems, so many major political developments, so many conflicting values and views in society – that ultimately everything you know or believe in is challenged. And when this happens, you find that forming coherent and above all else balanced views, is pretty damn difficult. In short living in Bangladesh leaves you permanently confused (no change there I hear you say).
I’ve wanted to write about gender discrimination here for a long time but have been struggling with the idea that an honest assessment would either fall under the ‘patronising, righteous, domineering white man’ category or would see me question the so-called universal values I came here with.
I came here believing that though we have completely different backgrounds, religions and experiences, none of this can change the fact that ultimately we are all human beings who need to eat, drink, sleep, work, be understood and cared for. The idea was that above all else, we are all equal. But living in Bangladesh does force you to think again…
Let me give you an example.
Women here are frankly treated like shit. They majority do not participate in life outside of the home. They do worse than men in almost all key statistics such as education and health care access or income generation. They have little hope of justice before male dominated and class defined courts. They suffer violence inside the home, have ACID thrown on them or are simply tortured to death for turning down a marriage proposal and are often trafficked to an even more horrible existence because they bring shame on the family by being teased for being young, pretty and unmarried. Their dress code means they must always cover all natural bumps on their bodies even in 40degree heat while being treated by a professional medical doctor. Not only do women eat last in any family gathering but they consequently eat least also. The list goes on and on and on…
So I’ve been confused and struggle to see how the hell we can claim that Human Rights are universal when so many women suffer daily in just one small Asian country? You are left to conclude that either you were wrong and women are lesser beings than men and therefore have no right to be treated with the same respect as men …..
or….
you conclude that the culture in this country is rotten to the core, that men are so driven by power that they will use anything including their faith to strengthen and monopolize that power; that the religious leaders have at worst used their faith to intentionally humiliate women or at best allowed their faith to be manipulated to do the same.
You either completely forget everything you were ever taught or you tell others that everything they believe in is not only untrue but archaic and unacceptable…..I don’t like either conclusion which is why I didn’t’ feel I could write about the issue.
But thankfully, it seems Bangladeshi’s are quickly coming to learn that their culture and country can no longer continue as it has been doing and therefore I can conclude that yes, it is the latter but only because it is a minority who really believe in that ‘culture’. The two leading parties are led by women, the parliament has reserved 30% seats for women; predominantly female garment workers are leading the countries biggest export industry and therefore leading independent if challenging lives. Microcredit, despite its flaws, is empowering other women to leave the grasp of their husbands; thousands of organizations all over the country are confronting damaging traditions on a regular basis; even Agrogoti Sangtha (where I work) are trying to ensure women’s participation in local politics and provide adolescent with girls the knowledge, tools and skills to protect themselves. So Bengali’s are challenging the romanticism which surrounds culture, traditions and religions and they should be mightily proud of themselves.
But, unfortunately the biggest challenge lays ahead…Soon the ruling party’s War Crimes Tribunal will start trying those responsible for war crimes during the Liberation War against Pakistan in the 70’s. Among the accused will in all likelihood be members of the Islamic fundamentalist party which alone will be dangerous. But more dangerous are the predominantly Muslim Party the BNP (claiming to be more moderate) and if they decide to play politics with this, to attack the current government’s efforts in the name of Islam….then the fireworks will start…and who will be the first to suffer…of course… women.
As I say a pretty confusing place.
Monday, 29 March 2010
Bedtime story for the kids
This is a summary from a Human Rights report I read today....tells you a lot about politics in Bangladesh among other things....imagine what Trevor Sargeant would say?
'Mr. Golam Reza was elected a Member of Parliament from Satkhira, some 400 kilometers from Dhaka. He was driving to the capital on the evening of January 24 to attend the inaugural session of the parliament. Upon arriving at the ferry pier at Daulatdia, on the western banks of the Padma river, Golam Reza did not want to join the queue of vehicles on the ferry. He tried to jump the queue and in doing so caused a minor collision with a bus. Golam Reza got out of his jeep, rushed inside the bus and beat the bus driver, Alal Sheikh, with a shotgun. It is not known whether the gun was licensed or not. Passengers on the bus and other staff protested and people in the vicinity pelted Golam Reza with stones.
Local police reportedly rescued Golam Reza and arranged for his safe exit. The bus driver was taken to a local hospital for medical treatment. Although the officer-in-charge registered a case against Golam Reza, which was published by the local media, no action has been taken against him. '
'Mr. Golam Reza was elected a Member of Parliament from Satkhira, some 400 kilometers from Dhaka. He was driving to the capital on the evening of January 24 to attend the inaugural session of the parliament. Upon arriving at the ferry pier at Daulatdia, on the western banks of the Padma river, Golam Reza did not want to join the queue of vehicles on the ferry. He tried to jump the queue and in doing so caused a minor collision with a bus. Golam Reza got out of his jeep, rushed inside the bus and beat the bus driver, Alal Sheikh, with a shotgun. It is not known whether the gun was licensed or not. Passengers on the bus and other staff protested and people in the vicinity pelted Golam Reza with stones.
Local police reportedly rescued Golam Reza and arranged for his safe exit. The bus driver was taken to a local hospital for medical treatment. Although the officer-in-charge registered a case against Golam Reza, which was published by the local media, no action has been taken against him. '
Saturday, 27 March 2010
Sunday, 21 March 2010
Leitrim Observer: Learning from our pasts
In the title is the link to the second article published in the Leitrim Observer, a local paper back home. It discusses poverty in Dhaka and the role of history in it's failure to alleviate that poverty.
Unfortunately the editor cut an important paragraph which discussed the first 70years of Irish indepedence. But I can have no complaints; it was already a little too long and I remain grateful that they seem interested in such articles.
Unfortunately the editor cut an important paragraph which discussed the first 70years of Irish indepedence. But I can have no complaints; it was already a little too long and I remain grateful that they seem interested in such articles.
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
Happy Saint Patrick's Day
Today is St. Patrick's day - the day Irish and non-irish people all around the world celebrate something which most of us would struggle to explain. It can be described in many ways: an excuse for a session, a celebration of irish culture and heritage, a day off work, a huge american party, a time for irish exiles to get together, the day of the All-Ireland club finals, a great day out or completely overrated.
Of course, the day itself is named after and is supposed to be a celebration of the patron saint of Ireland but while many still go to mass, shamrock somehow stuck to the shirt/jacket/dress etc, few would be naive enough to think that this is motivation for the majority of revellers all over the world.
So if you ignore the afternoon boozing aspect of it (at home and abroad) and recognise the limited role which the church now plays in peoples lives (outside of that 45minutes on Sunday), then you are left with the idea that it is a day during which we express our pride in our heritage and in our 'culture', past and present. People around the world join us in order to show their appreciation for our culture and for what we have brought to their country (not so sure about that one!). But, it will never cease to amaze me that a country of Ireland's population could have such a ridiculous hold on one day every year. It is incomparable but I couldn't be bothered going into the why.
Yet, at least in Ireland, what is showcased in parades and on platforms is not the dominant irish culture of the day. Floats and marching bands might well show off some of our finer artistic talents such as machnas or the talents of a new ballinaglera hiphop group.Trad music and dance will be for the older folks and the tourists as well as a few appreciative young people in the Gaeltacht regions perhaps!
But, most of these events will not really showcase the culture in which we, the inhabitants of Erin's Isle, actually participate on a daily basis. Traditions have been replaced by individualistic preference for X or Y sport, for excessive drinking, for a certain tv series or film. And today I reckon that most people, especially those in the countryside, will still go to mass/the parade, go home for the dinner, watch the gaa, and head into town afterwards for a few pints (or complete steps two and three in the pub).
This, I suggest, will be the dominant expression of culture in our country today. It is not what is showcased to the world in parades but it is what happens in every village and town all over the country itself. It is also what we are most famous for.
And I think it is also a culture which many people are content with. It is not extremely impressive, expressive, passionate, dark or carnival like. It is calm, good humoured and easy going until around 9pm (if all those who have been out since mass could just go home at this time, then those who haven't might actually enjoy their evening).
I, of course will not participate. I did grab hold of the closest expression of this culture available to me here by getting up to go to mass in a missionary orphanage at 6am. The mass itself was all in Bangla and was grand. No chairs and local music made you think you were in a temple of some kind though the priest's accent made me sometimes think I was in Napoli or Bari. So, yes, the orphanage is ran by two Italian and one local priests. Of course, I got the special treatment which included a nice breakfast with REAL ITALIAN COFFEE!
I actually really enjoyed it as the priests clearly posessed the Italian sense of humour, talked predominantly in Italian at the table and eventually spoke about Ray Houghton's goal in USA World Cup 1994 and Henry's sinful act! They were very nice people who have been in the country for over 30 and 20years respectively.
There were a few uncomfortable moments such as the joke that a hindu guy who left his wife and kids to join a muslim woman (a victim of domestic violence) who he had been legally representing, wanted to become a catholic!!! I smiled to myself but thought it was best not to ask if this was not just the expression of true love father?
The other was when I was introduced to a kid whose parents respectively eloped leaving their three kids to fend for themselves. In anyone's book this is pretty shameful (if not unlawful) behaviour but, according to our local priest, this was because they had no faith in the good lord....I understood his viewpoint but bit my tongue.
Overall though I am happy I went...at least for the coffee. I'm also happy there was no, 'See you on Sunday?' or 'Come join us for evening prayer', instead I was just asked to drop by some time for some more coffee or maybe even a game of football.
So this has been my day so far...no shamrock in my ear, no parades on the streets and no messy drunks....and it's been kinda good. Still though, I'd certainly enjoy a quiet one, in McSwiggins or in Conways.
Michael,
ps bizarrely this is also a public holiday in Bangladesh to mark the birthday of the father of the nation...hip hip hurrah!
Of course, the day itself is named after and is supposed to be a celebration of the patron saint of Ireland but while many still go to mass, shamrock somehow stuck to the shirt/jacket/dress etc, few would be naive enough to think that this is motivation for the majority of revellers all over the world.
So if you ignore the afternoon boozing aspect of it (at home and abroad) and recognise the limited role which the church now plays in peoples lives (outside of that 45minutes on Sunday), then you are left with the idea that it is a day during which we express our pride in our heritage and in our 'culture', past and present. People around the world join us in order to show their appreciation for our culture and for what we have brought to their country (not so sure about that one!). But, it will never cease to amaze me that a country of Ireland's population could have such a ridiculous hold on one day every year. It is incomparable but I couldn't be bothered going into the why.
Yet, at least in Ireland, what is showcased in parades and on platforms is not the dominant irish culture of the day. Floats and marching bands might well show off some of our finer artistic talents such as machnas or the talents of a new ballinaglera hiphop group.Trad music and dance will be for the older folks and the tourists as well as a few appreciative young people in the Gaeltacht regions perhaps!
But, most of these events will not really showcase the culture in which we, the inhabitants of Erin's Isle, actually participate on a daily basis. Traditions have been replaced by individualistic preference for X or Y sport, for excessive drinking, for a certain tv series or film. And today I reckon that most people, especially those in the countryside, will still go to mass/the parade, go home for the dinner, watch the gaa, and head into town afterwards for a few pints (or complete steps two and three in the pub).
This, I suggest, will be the dominant expression of culture in our country today. It is not what is showcased to the world in parades but it is what happens in every village and town all over the country itself. It is also what we are most famous for.
And I think it is also a culture which many people are content with. It is not extremely impressive, expressive, passionate, dark or carnival like. It is calm, good humoured and easy going until around 9pm (if all those who have been out since mass could just go home at this time, then those who haven't might actually enjoy their evening).
I, of course will not participate. I did grab hold of the closest expression of this culture available to me here by getting up to go to mass in a missionary orphanage at 6am. The mass itself was all in Bangla and was grand. No chairs and local music made you think you were in a temple of some kind though the priest's accent made me sometimes think I was in Napoli or Bari. So, yes, the orphanage is ran by two Italian and one local priests. Of course, I got the special treatment which included a nice breakfast with REAL ITALIAN COFFEE!
I actually really enjoyed it as the priests clearly posessed the Italian sense of humour, talked predominantly in Italian at the table and eventually spoke about Ray Houghton's goal in USA World Cup 1994 and Henry's sinful act! They were very nice people who have been in the country for over 30 and 20years respectively.
There were a few uncomfortable moments such as the joke that a hindu guy who left his wife and kids to join a muslim woman (a victim of domestic violence) who he had been legally representing, wanted to become a catholic!!! I smiled to myself but thought it was best not to ask if this was not just the expression of true love father?
The other was when I was introduced to a kid whose parents respectively eloped leaving their three kids to fend for themselves. In anyone's book this is pretty shameful (if not unlawful) behaviour but, according to our local priest, this was because they had no faith in the good lord....I understood his viewpoint but bit my tongue.
Overall though I am happy I went...at least for the coffee. I'm also happy there was no, 'See you on Sunday?' or 'Come join us for evening prayer', instead I was just asked to drop by some time for some more coffee or maybe even a game of football.
So this has been my day so far...no shamrock in my ear, no parades on the streets and no messy drunks....and it's been kinda good. Still though, I'd certainly enjoy a quiet one, in McSwiggins or in Conways.
Michael,
ps bizarrely this is also a public holiday in Bangladesh to mark the birthday of the father of the nation...hip hip hurrah!
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