Monday, December 21, 2009

Alliteration City


A Motley Crew

This picture was taken immediately following the first meeting of the Happy Helping Hands of Hurso club. Unfortunately, I don’t think the name will stick. As you can tell, our colleagues are thrilled to be there!

This is the humble beginnings of the delegation designed to develop Hurso. (This post is going to be titled: Alliteration City) They are each representatives selected by the community to serve on a board that will plot the village’s course to improvement. They select the problems, they design the solutions.

From left to right, we have Bortukan, a woman of about 50, though I am too scared to ask, 2nd in command of the village, highly opinionated and very passionate. Then there’s Peter, a strapping young man of 23. To his left is Kafialo, a kind-hearted man with a wife and a new baby girl, who runs a kindergarten and was recently elected as the health representative for the village. Next is Colonel Ray. The Colonel was stationed at a military compound in Hurso for a number of years and he fell in love with the village. When he retired, he moved back to the village and took a vested interest in promoting development motivating the community. He is knowledgeable, direct, and eager to see Hurso improve. Then me: lanky, bearded, and awkwardly holding the Colonel’s hand. Finally, there’s Warku who has been working hard to finish the school for the last 4 months while also running a local restaurant. He represents the school’s interests and the role the school will play in education development in Hurso.

The meeting was scheduled to start at 9am, thus we began promptly at 11am. Peter, Alex (introduced in a previous post), and I introduced ourselves and discussed GHNI’s vision and hope for Hurso. As we began, it was clear that they had all heard these tired speeches before. NGO’s come and NGO’s go without ever helping very much. They may dig a well, truck in food, or simply drop a huge pile of cash, but Hurso is never much better off for their visit. Tales of these previous NGO’s are told by the ground littered with broken and long dried up wells. All that remains of their efforts are resilient skeletons of projects past: metal cans meant for food storage now flattened for a more functional purpose: shingles, plastic jugs meant for potable water are now lawn ornaments.

Though we expected it, it was sad to hear of past failures. As we continued to share our purpose, it was awesome to see their appearances shift. The four pair of brown eyes we spoke to began to widen, expressions softened, and excitement built. “GHNI is not here to solve your problems for you; we are here to stand side by side and help you transform yourselves. You are in charge of your development; we are not your future.”

Colonel Ray replied, “This is great! We want to take responsibility for our future; for every (dollar) you contribute, we should at least match it.”
What was most exciting to me was to see the passion in these four people. Life is hard in Hurso and the problems and pain are very real. Bortukan loved the vision, and immediately began looking far into the future and getting really angry at problems we will face then. She knew we were on the right track and didn’t want to see our progress hindered in the least bit.

In order to understand her anxiety, I offer a brief look into life in Somali villages in Ethiopia. If a Somali person offers you a service, helps you out, or answers your questions, he expects some compensation. After all, that was time he could have spent hoeing his field. So, Bortukan was upset because she suspects that if we have community wide meetings to discuss community solutions, Somali’s in attendance will expect to be paid. “We don’t have the money to pay people!”

Our American solution: Potlucks, problem-solving Potlucks.

We are excited to support this committee as they rally the community to conquer their crises, and are glad to have the opportunity to work with such enthusiastic partners, to share in their struggles, and play a part in their future.

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