Ben Tshin

So my blog is back and revived after more than 1 year. tshin.com has been revamped so that all our blogs are linked now.

I will be writing sporadically about ICT4D, development, etc. so stay posted. You can also follow me on twitter @btshin where 140 character musings are much more commonplace.

Disclaimer: this site will be changing frequently over the next few weeks. It’ll be mostly cosmetic.

My life lately seems to be marked with uncertainty. Strangely, I have security within my job and my position, but it comes without stability. My job is secured, but I could also be sent anywhere around the world. It is at the same time a great opportunity and also a crimp to the rhythms of life.

Working in the field of international development, there is an assumption of working and living overseas; there is an inherent instability and level of flux and motion. It’s great to work and live in a dynamic environment that is always changing: it is never boring. There is always new-ness: new tasks, new things, new places and new people.

In working for a large NGO, I also have the luxury of job stability. But sometimes I feel as though I’ve “sold-out” to the template of a productive member society: go to school, graduate, get a stable job, get married, have kids, etc, etc. ad nauseum. A friend of mine started a tiny organization, Raising the Village, that goes against the grain of both our model of society as well as the business model of NGOs.  At times, I envy the singular drive that distinguishes RTV from other organizations. But of course, every NGO and every person has their niche: I am still figuring out mine.

The rhythm of relief and humanitarian work is 3 months somewhere, home for a break, and then another 3 months in the next disaster zone. This schedule doesn’t allow room for family, friends, relationships, and the rest of life in general. I know people who were able to manage this lifestyle, but not many, and probably not me.

Should I be looking for more stability or more security? I have been told to expect uncertainty, and to be certain of the unexpected. In any case, “You can’t always get what you want” (sing along to that tune!) or that you can’t always get everything you want.

Recently, I’ve been reading Mountains Beyond Mountains (by Tracy Kidder) which follows “The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, A Man Who Would Cure the World”. Paul Farmer is a ‘doctor, Harvard professor, infectious disease specialist, anthropologist, the recipient of a MacArthur “genius grant”, world-class Robin Hood’, and he’s slowly becoming an inspiration for me.

It’s amazing to read the story of Farmer, as I cross some of his paths in Cange and Mirebalais in the Central Plateau of Haiti. I was lucky to visit the small town of Colombier to help with a USAID SYAP (Single Year Assistance Program) food distribution to 200 households this past week. The Central Plateau is green and hilly. And the people living there eke out a living by growing bananas on the sides of the steep mountains. So I am seeing first-hand a part of what is in the book.

I probably have to re-read the book a few times to really digest it and to collect my thoughts. In any case, I already have a few more Paul Farmer books on order and Partners in Health is on my small list of “to-give” NGOs. Here are a few quotes from the book that stuck out to me:

“Do you know what appropriate technology means? It means good things for rich people and shit for the poor…”
- Father Lafontant (Chapter 9, Mountains Beyond Mountains)

This one hits home at me since my motto/business card tagline has recently been: “Innovative and Appropriate Information and Communications Technology for Development”.

“Never underestimate the ability of a small group of committed individuals to change the world. Indeed, they are the only ones who ever have.”
- Margaret Mead (Chapter 18)

Margaret Mead: Another anthropologist… My sister has been tinkering with cultural anthropology together with community development and I’m beginning to see how important they are to each other.

[...] how much could be done in Haiti if only [Farmer] could get his hands on the money that the first world spent on pet grooming.
- (Chapter 22)

I’ve recently become fond of cats and dogs again…

“I didn’t say you should do what I do. I just said that things should be done!” -Farmer (Chapter 24)

Still chewing on this one…

“You should compare suffering. Which suffering is worse. It’s called triage.”

“How about if I said, That’s all it adds up to is defeat? [...] I have fought the long defeat and brought other people on to fight the long defeat, and I’m not going to stop because we keep losing. Now I actually sometimes we may win.”

“I don’t care if we lose, I’m gonna try to do the right thing.”
- Farmer (Chapter 26)

This one is tough. I’m still chewing on all of it.

I received some interesting feedback about my first impressions of Haiti. I have asked one of my friends if I could re-post her comments here:

I have trouble seeing what’s wrong with donating used goods to a poorer population. The fact that they are making use of these hand-me-downs shows that they do need them, no? The money that go into a place like Haiti is spent in many essential constructions and care, and surely there isn’t enough money to cover new purchases of all the basic items for people there. And when there is a hand-me-down, that means someone somewhere else is thinking about what other use the shirt they wore twice can be put to – I’ve seen too many people who take out their clothes and other functioning products as garbage because they are too lazy with going through the donation process, or simply unwilling to let go of things they no longer need at home. Isn’t recycling and reusing the way to go now? Many countries started as developing, or undeveloped countries, and people then would all gladly embrace items donated to them. These things do help. But as long as the support is there to help educate them, and guidance for better farming or whatever means, they may one day turn into a country that can now help others.

I have no problems with recycling and reusing goods that are in good condition. It’s true that the living circumstances may be so dire that families will take anything offered to them. However, I want to challenge the notion that we (individuals and governments alike) give more than our spare change and leftovers. The developing world is an after-thought or even a non-thought: “people [...] too lazy with going through the donation process”.

The current global forums remind me of patriarchal families where the adults eat first and then the children eat whatever, if any, scraps remain. The developed world continues to dictate decisions for the developing world, instead of sitting as peers. Even if there are under-developed/developing children/nations/countries at the table, shouldn’t we give them the best as they are growing?

I’ve been here almost 5 days and I’ve been asked numerous times what my impressions are of Haiti: it’s nothing like what I expected. But what did I expected anyway?

I didn’t expect Haiti to be so developed. Haiti has been on the international development radar even before the earthquake; it’s ranked 149 out of 182 countries according to Human Development Index. The next entry on the HDI is Sudan. Port-au-Prince feels decades ahead of Juba and the small towns of South Sudan. I was anticipating decrepit open spaces with people living in huts and makeshift shelters, but instead the streets of PaP are lined with countless shops and homes. And the buildings are generally well built – where I’m staying.

I’m meeting many well-read, well-educated Haitians, as well as seeing communities filled with poverty. Haiti doesn’t have anything average. There are no average middle-class as you would find in Nairobi, or in Kampala. Instead, there are the very rich (include the educated here) and the very poor but no one in-between. Some of the houses I’ve seen are gigantic; the expat hotels are comparable to any I’ve seen.

If you were to average out the entire country, it feels on par with many developing countries. Except that the wealth is not at all distributed equally. Paul Farmer (who I’m beginning to read) lived and worked in Haiti and describes it through his theory of “structural violence”.

I expected to see more damage from the earthquake. Alas, I’m staying in a richer (and better built) area of Port-au-Prince away from the epicentre of the earthquake.

There are so many leftover, hand-me-down goods in Haiti that it makes me embarrassed to have entertained the thought. Second-hand clothes fill the streets. The buses are discarded, “yellow rocket” school buses from Lake and Dade county in Florida.  Most of them are re-welded, patched and look unsafe for anyone to ride. It’s as if we in US and Canada are too righteous to throw out our old junk, so we decide instead to ship it off to an island landfill.

Anyway, that’s enough for now. I visited the Corail IDP camp today. That’ll be a whole other discussion.

Just had a long field travel day again! But I miss flying the small Cessna 108B!

Had a challenging start to my month in Haiti. My flight was delayed one hour arriving at 4pm. The airport terminal must have been damaged by the earthquake because immigration was in a small building with no queue system. Not unexpected but another thing to deal with after a few flights.

Got my bags and walked out and saw no familiar faces. Where is the friendly face of a logistics officer or base manager or just someone wearing WV orange! At first I was wary of the talkative tout who pulled my rolly-bag. But turns out this kind man – Hermann Dimanche – helped look for my WV ride and kept me company. He turned into my ride out to Petionville since it was getting dark quick. Pity that I wrote the only contact number WRONG! I’m sure I’m dyslexic I’d mildly.
After a very long and diesel-choked one hour ride through the worst of Port-au-Prince traffic I finally arrived at my haven: my hotel with a shower and a bed. But a little more struggle as they weren’t expecting me.

Fourteen hours after leaving the haven of home I entered the haven of Kinam Hotel: hot shower, A/C, big bed.

That is enough for my first day in Haiti. I hope the next few days are a bit easier.

It’s been been encouraging to see people I’ve known for a while start to look beyond the bubble of Mississauga, the bubble of the developed world.

Check out Season Kam’s blog about her experiences with SIM in Malawi.

I’m bringing my blog back up as a way to put thoughts to cloud. I’m also experimenting with mashing up Twitter, LinkedIn here too… but not Facebook yet.

I’m getting inspired by a lot of friends out there, so this is just another way to keep track of everyone.

I’m also updating my blog-roll so watch out for the Humber ID section!

I have been thinking recently about poverty, since it is all around me in Sudan. But one thing I have seen is a difference between slum poverty and village poverty. I mentioned this in an email to a friend:

It’s all about contrast and our sensitivity to poverty. Village
poverty is wide spread through a village. Usually, the entire village
has very little, including the elders and leaders of the community.
Village poverty is more akin to rural poverty, in that people are
usually survive through subsistence activities. It is usually no
market economy. Also, villagers are usually more spread out having
more land with which to scavenge materials like firewood, as well as,
land for their cattle to roam. Slum poverty usually occurs in pockets
within a larger city. Slums are packed and congested, and usually
without proper sanitation or water. A lack of sanitation isn’t a
problem in isolation. The diseases occur when people are congested,
bringing the lack of sanitation closer to each person. Slum poverty
might be a stones throw from a 5-star hotel. I was once in the Ritz
Carlton in Shanghai, and it overlooked a neighbourhood on the other
end of the economic scale. It wasn’t necessarily a slum, but you can
easily translate the scenario to Africa, and Asia and shift the
economic scales downward.

So slum poverty akin to acute pain and village more like chronic pain.
If you stayed in villages and small towns for long enough, you become
inured to the standard of life that people “enjoy”. But in a city,
it’s easy to see the horrible conditions endured in the slums,
especially when you sleep in a nice house with guards at the door.

Your comments on this would be very appreciated. I haven’t fleshed this out completely, but it is still on my mind.