A Year in Nica

My dear friend Ronan is chronicling his year in Nicaragua in blog form as well, so if you're into following self-righteous 20-something do-gooders I highly suggest reading his blog: A year out: A year in Nica.  As a student of medicine he's likely to be far more prompt, perceptive, and attuned to his audience than I.

Effective Institutions (Or Lack Thereof)

For those of you who drive (and considering most of you are American I suspect that is most of you) you surely have had the distinct pleasure of visiting an office of the Department/Bureau of Motor Vehicles.  The trials and tribulations of such a visit are well known and documented.  The hardships are initiated when one realizes they've selected the wrong form for submission, brought insufficient supporting documentation, or worst of all, stood for an hour in the wrong cue and must move to the end of the proper one.  (Stephen Hawking would do well to explore the nature and curvature of the space-time continuum within these offices; I suspect some small black hole is kept in a locked closet or behind the desk, dragging time to a standstill).  As if the institutional processes weren't enough to instill hopelessness and despair (did Camus write anything about French DMV's?), one finally encounters the cheery employees.  These individuals possess a unique combination of hubris and misery.  They, the chosen few, have been ordained with the noble task of paper-pushing that they may spare us such intensive labors.  Only they have the mental (these people are mental) faculties to select proper forms and forward them to their proper inboxes.  Only they have digits sufficiently nimble to enter a person's name and DOB into an outdated DOS-based database (alright that's harsh, they're probably on Windows '95 by now).  Thankfully we have these honorable intermediaries to guide us ignoramuses through the web of paperwork.  Yet while exuding their knowledge and power when interacting with the drooling imbecile public, they plainly make evident under their breath and to their peers that this position is more burden than blessing.  A cross that they must bear.  If they weren't shepherding the masses through the system they'd be rich beyond their wildest dreams, sipping pina coladas poolside, basking in the riches they made off a back-scratcher or cat toy they invented.  


You'd be wrong in assuming this is as bad as bureaucracies get.  Mine eyes have seen the glory of the Tanzanian Immigration Department.  Say what you will about the DMV employees (as I just have), they indeed have a handle on what forms you must fill out and processes you must execute (and they make clear that they know and you do not know).  This is very much NOT the case with Tanzanian Immigration.  I give you Exhibit A, the Tanzanian embassy website, accessed Tuesday, August 16, 2011.  This was my guiding document before my travels began (early July) and I adhered to the directions.  Note how it distinguishes between types of visa, establishing procedures unique to each type.  Note especially those for the "business visa."


On accumulating the appropriate documentation and monies I graced the Tanzanian embassy in New York with my presence.  I indicated on my form and verbally indicated to the secretary that I'd be in need of a business visa.  Indeed, my predecessors in Tanzania for SharedSolar had only a tourist visa, were the recipients of (albeit mild) harassment from the local immigration office on notification of their presence, and prematurely exited the country on Easter weekend.  I had been urged by all members of my team, "make sure you get a business visa!"  A business visa I shall get.  I shall get a business visa.  I will make sure my form indicates such.  I will tell the embassy such.  I am going to Tanzania on "business."  (It really isn't business - it's research.  I'm not selling goods, purchasing goods for resale in the States, nor am I being paid by any organization having its bank account or headquarters within Tanzanian jurisdiction.  Such a logical argument would be lost in translation or summarily ignored, ergo, business visa.)  I paid a $100 visa fee where the tourist visa is typically $50.  I foolishly assumed that my adherence to the rules for obtaining a business visa meant that I had received a business visa (see: David Hume on causality).


On my arrival in Dar es Salaam, I indicated on my small blue entry form that I was, among other things, here on business.  Along with my passport and entry form I was in possession of letters indicating the purpose of my visitation from both my advisor, a director at The Earth Institute at Columbia, and the team leader for the Millennium Villages Project office in Tanzania out of which I would be working.  The immigration officer at the airport (also cheery employees) took a brief look at my passport and entry card and stamped my passport next to my "business visa" and allowed me to pass.


Regardless of the "business" visa, I was in possession of a visa and was now in the country.  In every other country I've been to this is the end of the process until you leave.  As it should be; I gave proof that I wasn't dangerous, explained my intent, provided proper evidence, and had entered the country.  Game, set, match.  Not so in Tanzania.  In Tanzania, you're "required" to check in with local immigration offices each time you move around.  ("Required" in quotes because if you don't bother checking in how will they know?)  I wasn't made aware of this until several days after I had arrived at the MVP office.  The office took several more days to draft another letter from the team leader and have it signed, so it was two weeks before I went to the immigration office.


On arriving at the local immigration office, I was told that my visa was insufficient, that there was no longer such a thing as a business visa (all evidence to the contrary), and that I would need to purchase a CTA (Carrying on Temporary Assignment) visa from the local office.  I would need to fill out another brief form (the heading of which said "tourist visa" rather than "CTA") and pay another $200.  I was told that since they didn't have the right form, they would cross out the word "tourist" and write "CTA."  In one of the more sketchy maneuvers I've seen from a public official in any context, an immigration officer grabbed on of my copies of my passport (as if it were a scrap piece of paper) and scribbled a bank account number into which I was to deposit said $200.  Jaw, meet floor.  This is how a national immigration office conducts itself.


This was a Thursday.  I didn't feel like dealing with this run-around Friday or Monday.  Tuesday, while I was out in Mbola, apparently the immigration officers showed up at the MVP office asking about me.  Shame I missed them.  On Wednesday I decided I should sort out this nonsense, so I spent an hour at the bank trying to deposit money (they really must not want it), obtained a receipt, and went back to the immigration office.  This time, I was told that I had filled out the wrong form (imagine that) and was asked where my two passport photos were.   You know, the ones they never told me I needed.  Back out the door I went to find a shop that provided passport photo service (a dude with a digital camera who had to hop on his motorbike to run off and print them somewhere).  When I came back and sat down in the office, I was told by the officer that I would need to sit there and wait two to three hours for his manager to get out of a meeting and approve my application.  I said no, threw a piece of paper at him with my cell phone number on it, and told him to call me when his boss got out of his stupid meeting.


Unfortunately this story is part of a much broader picture here.  It's easily perceptible what ineffective governments and institutions do to a society (and conversely, the positive effect of strong governments in the developed world).  Weak institutions can mean not just inefficiency and delays, but outright failure.  In the developed world strong institutions like governments (and even stronger, corporations) have the ability to effectively (relatively) run schools, health care (in sensible countries that's the government), military, and the like.  The government provides a network of institutions that support its citizens based on how citizens believe their government should support them.  Here, decades of corruption and crippling debt have rendered the government ineffective and incompetent.  Aid and relief monies that go through the government are piddled away.  Hospital systems (supposedly state-run) lack basic supplies.  Energy infrastructure decays and fuel prices are set by an incompetent organization.  While pipes and sinks are installed in homes there is no or sporadic running water; in rural settings, the Ministry of Water establishes constructs shared water points but then expects the community to organize a water committee and pay for upkeep.


Long story short, be thankful for your efficient, organized state department of motor vehicles.

Photos

I've finally posted pictures to my Picasa site.  Check 'em out.

Modi Research Lab Paper on MVP Energy Infrastructure

My lab at Columbia just released a 5-year summary of energy infrastructure research and interventions in the Millennium Villages Project.  I highly suggest a perusal.


Infrastructure from the Bottom Up: An overview and assessment of the Millennium Village Project Energy and Infrastructure Sector after five years

Dad in Pelotonia

Using the blog to get the word out.  In a few days my dad will be riding in Pelotonia from Columbus to Athens, Ohio (a century ride, about 100 miles).  This is a fundraiser ride for the excellent James Cancer Center at Ohio State University, where my late grandmother and cousin were treated.  Cancer research funding (research funding on the whole) has flatlined over the last few years so it's as important as ever to find new means for funding generation.  All the operational costs of Pelotonia are covered by corporate sponsors so anything you contribute will go directly to the James Cancer Center.  Thank you in advance for your support!  Here's a link to my dad's profile.

Kick

My most prized possession in Tanzania thus far has been my footie boots.  I brought them on recommendation from the previous SharedSolar consultant after I asked if I'd be able to get in on some kick.  As it turns out I've joined a team here.  Been training every day around 5:30, Saturday is match day around the same time.  Won the match this past Saturday, 3-1.  Been alternating between a holding midfield role and striker.  While my team has gotten used to my whiteness (and even ask why I've missed a practice or two) the opposing squads are still hesitant about a mzungu's ability to play kick.  Allow me to boast that my demonstrations on the pitch shatter their expectations.  Last night at training I lost my mark with a dash to the near post and headed in a corner upper 90.  Sick.  Still need to figure out the right Swahili words to organize the back four; they're a hot mess.  I'll try and get some better photos soon.

The boots.

The pitch.

Even acknowledging his clunky lack of athleticism Abdul failed to stick this one in for reasons passing understanding.  Note positions of ball, keeper, and Abdul (Barca jersey in front of goal).

One of these ballers is not like the other...

Tabora, Tanzania

I suppose I never properly introduced my location or project.  We'll start with Tabora.  Tabora is in western Tanzania; I've heard it described as "the end of the earth" because it's impossible to travel to or from Tabora in any direction in any reasonable temporal quantum.  Tourism is non-existent so the only "mzungu" here are working for the tobacco industry or the Millennium Village Project in Mbola.  The Orion Tabora Hotel is the decent hotel in town and we're there around three times a week for food (which takes no less than two hours due to an inoperable oven and the omnipresent "swahili time") and drink.  John Legend stayed here a couple years ago to check out the MVP in Mbola so it's kind of a big deal.  

Tabora seems to be a pretty standard (and sparse) low-income town.  Plenty of goods being traded and sold including some food imports from Britain (the usual crackers and such).  Fruit is always delicious, particularly bananas (I eat at least one a day, if not 2 or 3) and pineapples.  Mango season is in summer (November/December) so I'm missing out on that.  The typical meal for me consists of beans, rice, and some sort of cooked spinach/collared green) - usually costs around $1.  Breakfast and snacks are usually some sort of fried dough - chipati (the cross-cultural round flat disc of dough fried, like tortillas, pancakes, crepes, etc.), mandaazi (donut without a hole), and kitumbua (made from rice and also fried).  There's also the Indian influence that you can find throughout East Africa.  I can get paneer and other Indian staples at a few hotel restaurants here.  For transport, I can get a ride on the back of a pikipiki (motorbike) across town for 2,000 TZSs which is about $1.30 USD.  


"Showers" here consist of dousing yourself with cold water from a large pail that gets refilled from a well every day.  Faucets and showers are installed in a lot of places but I'm unclear on why running water is lacking.  Electricity in Tanzania is controlled by the government organization Tanesco.  Of the 


Next time your in a book store, take a look at the Lonely Planet guide for Tanzania and turn to the western Tanzania section (or lack thereof).  Feast your eyes on the breadth and depth of cultural, scenic, and tourist opportunities with which Tabora is laden.