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Do the people of Niger realize that the eyes of Americans gravitate toward the country’s name, that they subsequently widen, that we have to pause to gather ourselves before we take the safe route and dwell on the “i”, that we would call them Nigerians but isn’t that what you call someone from Nigeria? What are the people from Niger?Cindy Sanders is currently working for the Peace Corps in Niger, and we spent about three weeks e-mailing back and forth, during which time she talked about her daily activities, the differences between working for an NGO and working for the Peace Corps, and whether or not she thinks it’s all worthwhile. Talk about what you're doing in Niger, how long you've been there. I've been in Niger since the beginning of 2007. I'm an agriculture volunteer, which means that my basic function is to work with the farmers (who, in Niger, constitute 95% of the population). This is a process that includes several things: helping farmers increase their yields, introducing new planting techniques, introducing new pest control techniques, introducing new crop species, and acting as a liaison for various NGOs that might want to do work in my village with me and the villagers. Niger is a hard place to do this (actually, it's kind of a hard place to do anything). All the farmers are subsistence workers who have roughly 4 months of the year in which to grow an entire year's worth of food for themselves and their large families - population growth rate here is 3.3%, with an average birthrate of anywhere from 7.2 - 8 children per woman, depending on which statistics you read. Rains fall in Niger from June to September, and that's it. The “fields” where farmers plant are in the desert surrounding their villages. The sand is quartz-rich, prone to erosion and desertification, and basically without nutrients. In it they plant their primary food crop, millet, as well as sorghum, beans, and peanuts, if they can afford the seed. Rains started early this year, in April, and the men went out to plant. The rains then, of course, immediately stopped until June, and all the previous plantings shriveled up and died, wasting the men's time and money (especially money). Hunger season, which generally starts in March or so when the grain reserves run out and lasts until harvest time in October, was particularly hard this year. We lost a lot of kids in our village, so the fact that the rains were playing games with us was very difficult. People haven't been too happy with Allah lately, but have tried for forgiveness by observing Ramadan very strictly this past month. Most people won't even swallow their own spit during daylight hours, hoping that Allah will notice and bring better rains next year. This has given me a very different view of Islam than I held before. Did you know anything about farming before you got to Niger? How'd they get you up to speed? I had gardened with my father since I was small, and then I worked on an organic sheep and vegetable farm in the Catskills for a while when I was at NYU. Then before I left for Niger I worked on an organic farm in West Virginia, which was great. But nothing adequately prepares you for farming millet in the desert. It's all new once you get to post. What made you want to join the Peace Corps? I don't know why I joined the Peace Corps really. Maybe it had something to do with reading Amanda Gardner's Myspace blog. She made it seem like a lot more fun than it is. Maybe that's because she was in Mozambique. What did you think about doing besides joining the Peace Corps? A lot of things. I'm still thinking about them/doing them. I saw Peace Corps as a bridge to other things, which a lot of people do. Prior to leaving for Niger I was doing a lot of really fun stuff. I was assistant executive director of Habitat for Humanity of Frederick County, MD. I was a freelance newspaper writer. I ran an ultramarathon. I had my own home-based vegan baking business, which was awesome. I was writing and painting and running a revolving art gallery out of my house. I was traveling all over the place. Things were really fun. But I don't know, I also wanted to live abroad and I had kind of wanted to do Peace Corps since middle school, so now here I am. I'm still busy here too: I just finished applying to grad schools for fall of 2008, and I've been writing, drawing, painting, reading... there's a lot of free time here, like every afternoon when the temperatures are above 100 degrees F and everyone just lies around. And now I speak Hausa, which is relatively useless but kind of interesting, so yay Peace Corps. It's not fun? It can be fun. But American fun and Nigerien fun are different things. Nigerien fun is (only men) sitting on mats all day drinking very sweet, very hot green tea and staying up all night. Fun for women consists of pounding millet grain into flour with your friends while all the men sit around. Fun for children consists of running around and periodically staring at me. This is a very traditional Islamic society. But honestly though, fun can be had. You just have to understand your context. Why'd you choose Africa? Did you have a type of country in mind, like a post-conflict country or a more developed North African one?When you apply for Peace Corps you can state which “region” you want to be in. These are clumped together in basic parts of the world, like Central and South America, Africa, Asia, etc. My recruiter did 3 years in Vanuatu in the Pacific Islands. His walls were covered with pictures of him bungee jumping into green verdant rainforests and smiling on fishing boats with villagers who adored him. This, for some reason, didn't influence me, and I said I wanted to go to Africa The only place I really didn't want to go was Eastern Europe, because it didn't seem “Peace Corps-y” enough to me. Most Eastern Europe volunteers have things like electricity and running water and I didn't want those at the time. Electricity and running water seem pretty pie in the sky to me now. I was a fool back then. Why Africa? I don't know. At the time it seemed like the right place. I thought, as I think most Peace Corps volunteers do, if even briefly, that the place I'd somehow end up might complete me somehow, that it would offer me this chance to connect to a world that I otherwise wouldn't experience. I wanted to broaden my perspectives, to have a more thorough understanding of the world. 4 billion of the 6 billion people on earth live in 3rd World countries. I wanted to go there and see what it was about. It was the opposite of America, so it had some inherent interest for me. I didn't have a say as to where within Africa I would go, however. For some reason I was almost positive I'd get sent to Mali, but when I got my letter from Washington and it said “Niger”, I was pretty slack-jawed. I didn't even pronounce it right. I said “Ny-jer”. It's “Nee-zhair”. Or, as Chris Rock says, “that N country”. Chris Rock is funny. You've been there for 10 months now, so you have about 14 months left. Do you feel like you'll be happy with your contribution at the end of the program? No. My contribution will be minimal and unsustained, and that's the reality of it. Most of what I'll do in my village will be trashed by the time I'm gone, local corruption will take off with any money my income-generating activities might accumulate, and my work with the education and empowerment of young girls will be absolved by hundreds of years of repressive religious tradition. This is how it goes. Niger has remained the least developed nation on earth for years for a reason. For many reasons, actually. As a person, however, I will be remembered. Peace Corps volunteers are famous here - you get talked about for decades. I will honestly always be remembered as the weird white woman who came to live in the village, always wore sunglasses, and rarely covered her hair (I balk authority! Ha!). And if entertaining throngs of children who watch my every move, allowing them to have stories to tell their (many) grandchildren, is my only contribution - which it will be - then so be it. I'm not terribly happy about it, but it is what it is. I'd think that most people that do PC in Africa go into the program with little specific knowledge of the context into which they're being placed - like you probably weren't particularly informed about Niger, Muslim communities, millet farming, etc. What do you think your role is, as a foreign service worker? There are two distinct roles: the role Peace Corps tells you to play, and the role that you actually perform. Peace Corps' mission (paraphrased) is to send “qualified men and women to other nations to help their need for manpower and for these people to act as ambassadors of America, and for them - through letters and upon returning to the States - to be ambassadors of the country in which they worked”. We actually have pretty specific project plans we're supposed to follow, i.e. helping increase yields, crop diversification, etc. This is what the Peace Corps wants to believe we do. What we actually do, however, is quite different. No other non-profits or NGOs work quite like the Peace Corps, placing these “qualified men and women” directly into small communities and making them live there at the level of their villagers. Even PC Niger is rare in that we learn local language (Hausa, in my case, or Zarma), rather than the colonial language (which for Niger is French, and which just about no one actually speaks). Being in the village has its pros and cons. Pro: you know exactly what issues the village faces and can ascertain these needs accordingly. Con: the forest for the trees thing, you know? [here] Additionally, by becoming a villager I've found that I automatically lose any and all authority I might have once had. As a fellow villager in a society deathly afraid of people stepping out of line or doing something non-conforming, they are far more reticent to take my advice. Thus, my role being has been relegated to that of neighbor and woman (neither of which hold much water, especially being female), and subsequently my projects don't get done. To be honest, my real role in this whole thing is to show the village that people outside of the village exist, and that sometimes they look different to boot. There’s also the sustainability issue; most PC people will leave after 2 years, and new workers will come in. Do you have any thoughts on the turnover? Villages generally only have about three volunteers in a row, which means, if all volunteers complete their service, they have an American for six years. Sometimes the volunteers are all in the same sector (health, education, agriculture or natural resource management). Sometimes they're different. Sometimes volunteers early terminate and leave after a few months or a year, and the village has a lull of months between volunteers. Sustainability is as pie in the sky as my hopes for running water and electricity in my village - it just won't happen. I'm sorry about the negative tone of most of my answers. PC has taught me that I really don't agree with international development or aid, and that it's definitely not my life's work. Most aid is just sugarcoating other countries' foreign services agendas. PC, for example, is just America trying to say that we actually do help those third world countries we hardly care about. It's a depressing thing to realize, especially when you only get it once you're abroad. But then again, there are a few organizations out there that are doing amazing work. GOAL, out of Ireland, is one of them. They've got it right; Peace Corps not so much. PC just celebrated its 45th anniversary in Niger. 45 years of continuous service, hundreds (or maybe thousands) of volunteers in and out of country, hundreds of villages playing host to an American or three. But is Niger better off now that it was in 1962, just two years after the French granted them independence? The old men in the village say no. “When the French were here we got paid for work,” they say. “Now we don't have any work or any money.” If you could stay longer than 2 years, with the same Peace Corps structure, salary, benefits, etc., would you? No. In fact, I probably won't even stay my full two years here. I have already finished applying to grad school for 2008 and may be leaving as early as next March. I have no regrets about this however. I'll have lived in Niger for over a year and tried my hardest to work as well as I could. I came up against a society that plainly doesn't want me to do anything other than cook and clean. So is the Peace Corps a good thing or a bad thing? Peace Corps is a good thing. There's a saying that every volunteer creates their own service and no two services are alike. There are a lot of people in Niger who are having amazing times, life-changing experiences, and are really happy with their lot. Perhaps if I were in a different village, in a different position, or maybe if I just wasn't a woman and therefore less respected, I'd be one of those people. I'm not though. I'm trying my damndest but it's just one of those things. Peace Corps, for Americans and the villages where they live, oftentimes ends up being a very good thing. The village, in principle, does profit from the volunteer's stay, and the volunteer obviously comes away with a greater world view. It's a global education in the most literal sense. We come away speaking another language, knowing about different cultures, and having traveled and seen some of the most remote parts of the world. The US's foreign policy people constantly tout Peace Corps volunteers as making differences across the globe in the service and spirit of the States. So Americans definitely benefit, and even if the volunteer doesn't do much in his or her village, they at least come in and spend money (buying food, souvenirs, services, etc). Maybe this sounds cynical, but it's true. Honestly though, I do support Peace Corps for the most part in what they do. I'd even consider doing it again later on in my life, albeit making it very clear during my second go-round in the application process that I'd want to live in a country where gender quality is more of a reality and less of an impossibility. How would you change it to make it better? Structure. PC Niger has been here for 45 years and we're still tackling the same problems we were tackling in 1962. Farmers are still working at subsistence level. Schools are run-down and few children go. Health problems have grown worse, not better, since more people still die of preventable diseases in the sub-Saharan region than most anywhere else in the world. Maybe it's the American in me, but if they had handed me a job with a specific set of goals (rather than "let's not let these people starve"), I'd be better suited for it. I've found that a lot of my friends feel the same way. It's hard to be dropped in a village and told to do good without having any real idea of what to do, other than a few suggestions we were given in training. It's my belief that this is the issue worldwide with Peace Corps. A program launched in 1961 that has remained essentially the same for 46 years obviously needs a few alterations to keep up with the times. Certainly there's more of a focus on AIDS now, and in some other, more developed, countries, PCVs work with internet and computer training, small business development, and other, more advanced, practices. In Niger, however, we're very much so in the same place as we were in 1962. As I said before, it's taught me that international development isn't my thing, so deciding exactly what has to change about Peace Corps and its programs is difficult for me. Was you doing the Peace Corps a good decision or a bad one? If you could go back, would you still do it? I have this weird feeling that people reading this interview are going to think I'm terribly wishy-washy and can't make up my mind. Here's the summary of it, as best as I can explain: I am happy to have done Peace Corps. Very happy. The decision has been good for me. It's been my first time living abroad for an extended period of time, and my first time in Africa. Some of the people I've met here, Nigerien and American both, are excellent people, people I'm honored to know. Some of the work I've done here I'm proud of. Some of the things I've seen are going to stay with me forever, and certainly influence how I live the rest of my life. What this experience has also taught me, however, is that I cannot live in a society so utterly, stoically, and seemingly happily repressed (I say this because no Nigerien woman will complain about her subservient role in society - a common adage is "What Babba [the big one, usually meaning father or husband] says, you do." Most women cannot function on their own and fear independent activity). Gender inequality kills me, it really does. I feel like it steals little pieces of my soul that I can't get back after being treated this way. So I have been placed in a very difficult situation; it's not the terrain, the heat, the desert, or the constant sickness and diarrhea that bothers me. It's the way I've been treated just because I'm not a man. Do you feel more completed? Even if that completion is just knowing your limitations? It's hard to say. I believe that's one of those things that can only be answered once I return to the States. The completion originally sought, or perhaps hoped for, has certainly has not occured, but that was such an outrageously high expectation for the experience that it could never have happened anyway. The changing of perspective, a certain objectivity where subjectivity once was, and maybe even some, oh I don't know, personal growth or something - those things occured, and for those I'm grateful. But completion? Maybe I'll know more about things like that when it's over. Maybe that's the only time to know about these things. |
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Jason is a pretty funny kid. He talks, a lot, in a high pitched voice that sounds like he's warming up to sing. He speaks Mandarin. Allegedly, he was the brains behind the New Englander's Club, a group of 4 students that "discussed New England" once a month while NYU footed the bill at fancy restaurants like Le Cirque. So when a friend forwarded me an e-mail from him, telling tales of working in microfinance in Mexico, I had to find out more. Microfinance (specifically here, microcredit or microloans) involves local organizations lending small but usable amounts of money to impoverished or struggling entrepreneurs. Money from loans is typically used to buy tools - a cow for plowing, materials for a family manufacturing operation - that can help make the borrower economically self-sufficient. Loan terms tend to be a few months, with interest rates pegged to local norms (which usually seem exorbitant at first glance; whether or not they actually are exorbitant is another matter). So there's a bunch of issues that you can probably see coming - what is this good for, who decides, how do they decide, what are the specifics that determine which programs fail and succeed, are we feeding the poor from the hand of Adam Smith, capitalism is evil so where is the underside and how are these dickhead bankers making a profit off of this? Jason (wearing his leather jacket over a Ho Chi Minh t-shirt) and I sat down to speak in Washington Square Park, where he told me about the differences between working in India and Mexico, why he thinks microfinance should be handled by banks and not non-profit NGOs, and about that time he stole a fridge from someone's house. How'd you get into microfinance? I was heading home from NYU and I remember I was heading home from graduation, and I thought I was going to hitchhike across the country and go work as a fisherman in Alaska, and then hitchhike down to Mexico, that was my big plan, and then a buddy gave me a call and said, "someone dropped out of this program I'm doing and they need someone else to work for an NGO in India, would you be interested?" so I just got lucky with it. And I didn't really have any other real plans so I said sure. They asked me what I was interested in, I said entrepreneurship, helping people start businesses - that was sort of what I had studied in school - and I guess that paired up well with microfinance. Real quick, how would you define microfinance? Providing funding for people, entrepreneurs, on a very small scale, but who are all trying to do their own individual business activities, starting up small little shops. OK. So you knew about microfinance before you went to I actually didn't know about microfinance before I went over. There was definitely a Google search done after I found out about the job. It was right at the point where, I think, microfinance was starting to get a lot of press, in 2005. I got set up with a fairly well established, mid-sized NGO, about 30,000 members - all women, set up in a self-help group system, where 5-10 women meet every week or so and they talk about their problems. And over time they establish a sense of trust and community, and then they start doing other activities, like saving money together, and once they build up enough savings, they can give out loans. So the NGO started out as a self-help group and sort of turned into a pretty substantial microfinance organization. We worked in the middle of My specific role was starting up a separate program, a micro-health insurance program. What the NGO realized while they were doing this work in Does that happen a lot, people using the loans for non-business purposes? Well, the people always want to say, yes, this is for a business. In What were you guys charging? Around 60%. Those figures are per year though, and most loans are for a few months, so 60% interest is 5% per month. What were you actually doing for the health care program? For me it was really interesting, because I got to travel throughout How’d that work? Everyone pays a premium, and that amount of money supports the health insurance that they pay out. I think we were charging about $1 per month for the insurance. So everyone pays the premium, and how health insurance works is that not everyone uses the health insurance every month. If your health insurance covers surgeries, you’re going to need a lot of cash on hand to cover the bills, but ours was a more simple program of primary care and checkups, where we worked out deals with doctors where we guaranteed them business every month in exchange for a reduced rate. So it made business sense for the doctors, but there was also an altruistic element to them being involved in the program. And again, this is people just above the poverty line? All the communities I was working with were already part of the microfinance network, so they weren’t the poorest of the poor. They had stable communities, where they had funds coming in, but, you know, no electricity in houses, no indoor plumbing, kids were running around naked – It was definitely the developing world. What was your friend working on? He was working in the microfinanced communities, working on the business structure after they people had already gotten loans and had some savings, trying to start businesses that can employ people in the community, so the money stays in the community and doesn’t escape out. One thing he was working on was a home grocery delivery program, where, instead of having people go to the market every week, they would get a basket of groceries delivered every week. So the business charges a premium for the delivery service, but it also employs the local women, which gives them a job, more income in circling through the community. He also worked on outdoor toilet construction business. One of the differences I would figure between programs run by NGOs and programs run by banks is that the programs run by NGOs would bring a value added component to their loans - education, technology, etc. Right. A microfinance organization is just a few steps away from a bank, so the interesting thing about the NGO’s microfinance program was seeing how it shifted towards running more like a business. While I was there they had actually hired consultants to analyze them and figure out how to turn it into a business. That’s something you’re seeing a lot more of. Communities that utilize the NGO model can only take it so far; the NGO turns into a nice shell that you can turn into a business, that’s very workable, that already has roles assigned. A coordinator in the field gets made into a salesperson – where before they were going out into the field and teaching people about microfinance, now they’re going out into the field and selling loans. So one of the good things about an NGO becoming a bank is that it can then employ more people from the community? Yes. So then, and this is just the first thing that popped into my head, it might seem like it’s just a cycle, that people learn about microfinance, educate more people about loans, then sell the loans, and then the bank becomes bigger and can employ more people - which means it can educate more and more people about loans, sell more loans, and employ even more people. Aside from just giving the people who actually work for the bank a job, is the bank benefiting the community in any way? Or it just kind of snowballing into a bigger and bigger entity? One of the great things about it, and how I always viewed microfinance, is that it was sort of the capitalist way of social movement, social mobility, social enterprise. It goes to some of the lowest levels and says to the person, “If you work hard, you do your job and have a little bit of luck, whatever the venture it is you’re starting, maybe you have a scale and you weigh people and they give you a little bit of money, or a little handicrafts thing, if you do this and it sells, you’ll get more money coming in, and that money doesn’t go to a foreign bank, but goes back into the community.” Then with that money, you can either take out another larger loan or maybe it goes to your neighbor, who themselves start larger enterprises. And part of the reason why One of the biggest shocks I had when I went to When you hear that an NGO is becoming a bank, you think that it loses that social component, but actually it just…you’re not losing on the social component because the rules are the same, it’s just making sure that people abide by…if you don’t pay your loans, the community suffers. I do believe that an NGO gets to that point and doesn’t become a business is actually harming the community from further development. If someone takes out a loan and doesn’t repay it, and NGO might say “that’s OK”, but that hurts the NGO and it hurts the community, and that means that another person can’t get a loan now. So it’s important that you get stricter standards, and that’s what a business does, makes sure people pay. That whole social component comes into play much more strongly in OK, can you tell me about I was in China and ended up in a meeting with the head of one of the first microfinance banks in China, seeing if I could get a job working there, and I didn’t, but I told him that I really wanted to learn and that I was willing to travel to wherever the next for profit microfinance program was going to start up, and that ended up being Mexico. So that was a big change – Right away, you could tell that [the one in So the organization in The Mexican microfinance organization only gave loans to businesses, so you could only get money if you had been up and running for X amount of time. And that’s where I learned a lot about how they actually determine whether or not they can give a loan to someone, they had a very strict procedure. How it works: they have loan officers that would just walk around the city and go into businesses. In So they meet with the people and take their information down, go back to the office and do a credit check on the business, then go back to the business and do an evaluation. The evaluation was 5 or 6 pages and was basically an accounting. Most of the places don’t keep records, they just go by, “OK I bought X number of tortillas this week and X amount of lettuce and by the end of the week I have this much left over so that means I have to buy this much more.” So we would go through and say, “How many tacos do you sell a week?” “50 tacos a day, so 350 tacos a week.” “How much do you sell each for?” “5 pesos.” So you’d get the revenue and do the same, “How much do you pay for each head of lettuce” etc etc. So then you can figure out their profits. Then you’d list the assets they have – chairs, a refrigerator, a TV for people to watch. You’d also do their family’s assets, because a lot of people lived in the back of their stores. So, “OK, you have a car, you own your house.” So we’d get a financial profile of the family and their business, and then we’d run the numbers through some formulas, just like a bank here in the US decides whether or not you’ll be able to pay back one of their loans. Then the loan officers go to the bank manager and the loan committee and everyone asks questions about each candidate, so other loan officers can ask you questions like, “Well how much cash do they have?” – so everyone can be very critical of each other. So the whole thing took some time. The company also has strict standards, like each officer has to get X amount of people each month to qualify for a bonus. What were you doing? Did you know Spanish? I was following the loan officers around. They didn’t pay me but they gave me housing. So I would walk around with the people, and you learn Spanish pretty fast when people are speaking it all day. In the beginning it was pretty tough, especially without knowing the lingo for cash, other slang. But by the end of my stay, I did one complete deal, where I found a person and said, “Hola! Me nombre es Jason. Soy un consultador.” And the person would say, “OK, I don’t know who you are, but sure, go ahead.” But the people who run the businesses are actually very smart; right away they’d say, “What’s the interest rate? Per year? Are there any secret fees?” They were actually pretty savvy. In Did the loan officers get a commission on each loan? It was sort of a weird structure. It was a bonus system. Each officer had a target, 5 new loans a week maybe, not including reloans where you’d renew people’s loans. Just to give you an idea, each loan would be around 3,000 pesos, which is about $300, and was for a term of 4-6 months, with an interest rate of 60% a year, so 5% a month. What were most of the businesses using the money for? Lots of things. It depended on what the business was. My favorite was the taco guy, because, well, the taco guy wants to take out a loan, that’s funny. People would want to get shelves for their store, or a new sign for their business, maybe a fridge. I think the largest loan I saw was for 20,000 pesos, $2,000, to a mechanic that wanted to buy some special piece of equipment. How did the bank make sure the people were using the loans for their businesses? You really can’t. After you give them the money, you just have to hope they pay it back. And that’s one of the major problems, so you run into, “What do you do when someone doesn’t pay you back?” You have to remember, when a person doesn’t pay, it’s really bad for the bank. That means that money they’re expecting to come in can’t go to someone else. Even when they’re a day late, it becomes an issue. And it became a pretty bad issue. I came right when the bank was having a lot of issues with people not paying back the loans. What happened was that the bank managers had just approved a lot of bad loans, people that already had loans or bad credit records and they gave out the loans anyway. I got there when a lot of turnover was happening. That’s when I learned about the dark side of microfinance, which is what happens when people don’t pay. So there were times when I was on runs to steal people’s…well, not steal, but to take people’s refrigerators. You go into people’s houses and…if the people don’t pay, you can’t just say “No, it’s OK.” If this was an NGO, you might say that, but this is a business, so you have to get something to make the business run, otherwise the whole thing falls apart, and the people that are taking good loans out won’t be able to get loans anymore. I did a lot of banging on doors at nighttime, “Pay your loans back, we need the money now.” That stuff happens in the To effective ends? Well it’s never good when someone doesn’t pay. What’s a bank gonna do with someone’s refrigerator? I guess they could auction it off, but a bank isn’t a seller of goods. It’s not really the desired outcome. But yes, they collected people’s goods and auctioned them off so they could make some money back. What did you bring to the program in I brought them experience in microfinance, and no one was really fluent in English, so I did a lot of looking over documents, because a lot of the investors spoke English, and the bank was certified by the World Bank. I was there to learn but we both got something out of it. I wrote a few reports for them. So after my 4 or 5 months in They went from Yeah, yeah. Like, you can’t charge interest, right? Yeah, you can’t have usury and certain fees. Is that an industry term? Usury? No, no. That’s just…that’s what they [Islamic laws] say. But a few things happened, like the What would the setup have been like? I would have been in You’ve done microfinance for a while -- have you become politicized about it, how it’s seen, etc.? I think it’s still very new and it’s not going to go away, because it’s very effective. For organizations, for the individuals. It fills a niche and need. There’s a really great book by C.K. Prahalad called The Fortune at the Bottom of the Pyramid [subtitle: Eradicating Poverty Through Profits], a So the potential for microfinance, is it in eradicating poverty? No, I don’t think that’s possible; we still have poverty in the One thing I should say is that I think NGOs really do a lot of great work. I think that they’re the way that it starts out. They get in the community and start to understand it. I worked with banks in So, maybe, the places you went would aspire to be served by banks, not NGOs? Yeah, absolutely. If all these communities had a local bank…If my parents can go into a Chase, they know the people that work at the bank and they know they can get a loan from them because they know that these people are trustworthy. In a lot of these areas, a very poor person will go into a big city bank and won’t get a few words out of their mouth before they’re asked to leave. In a community bank, the bank manager knows your situation and your individual business; I worked in When a bank gives a loan to a community business in a developing community, the intention is that the business will make more money, pay off the loan and be able to take more money home. Where does that money come from? Inside the community, outside? It depends on the community, but say in Does that happen? So it’s like a capitalist justice and the free market is the sheriff? Yeah, it’s called social capitalism. You saw that in action? It was one of my eye opening moments. I would talk to people who would talk about a doctor that was overcharging, then a new doctor would come in with more reasonable prices and say, “No, what’s fair is fair and what he’s doing isn’t fair, and I’m going to be fair,” and as a result he gets lots of new business. So is that another example, that the more doctors or businessman there are, the more they will compete and the cheaper services and goods will be? Well, it depends on the product, but the hope is that the people who do good work will do well and the people that do bad work will do worse. Inequalities in these systems are present all the time and we hope that microfinance will help balance it out and give the people a little bit of leverage. Cash in pocket gives a person a bit more bargaining power. If you’re at the doctor’s table and he tries to charge you 10 times what he should, and you have cash in pocket, you can say to him, “Well then I’m going to go to the other doctor,” and the doctor in front of you might lower his prices. So yeah, it’s capitalism. When you read about microfinance you often see it framed in a certain way, like the guy that won the Nobel Prize, that it can lift countries out of poverty. Are you saying that’s not really how you think about it? The only way the industry’s going to survive is if it becomes more business-like and it takes a real business approach. You can’t let people off the hook when they don’t pay, and that causes problems for everyone in the community. Microfinance gives people a real good alternative to what they have, but there’s a point when the NGO needs to say it itself, “For our survival, for the community’s survival and growth, we need to put more standards in.” And that’s where the industry is trying to figure out what its next path is, what’s going to work in the future. I’ve seen dialogs with people from Africa and Russia and China and they mix their ideas together, this has worked here and not here, so it’s a real global test; everyone’s trying to figure out what’s the best thing and I think in a few years you will see some very clear cut models for how to do business in these countries. The New Yorker wrote a nice article about microfinance, beginning with a few pages about Muhammad Yunus, who started the Grameen Bank in Bangladesh and won the Nobel Prize in 2006. The article is here. |
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When you got to Paris, did they take off the Nigerian fiberglass cast? I've now got a 3rd brace, that's a bit lighter weight and made from cloth and foam. The 3rd one makes me feel very medical. It's white with a lot of strings and metal clasps and velcro - but it breathes more. If OIC offered you another job in Nigeria, would you go back? The NGO I was working for is not involved in anything like that, as far as I know, but I do think that sometimes our aid is not really as useful as we think or hope it is. My experience in this area is extremely limited, but I want to learn more about it. I'm also not sure what other possibilities are out there--it seems like funding requirements can really limit options. At the same time, it was such an amazing and exciting opportunity for me, personally, that it's hard not to be grateful and hope for that sort of thing to pop up again. |
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I arrived last Wednesday, so 5 or 6 days. What is the house like?I would call it bungalow-esque. It's from the 50s, if not earlier. It was a duplex when Jack Kerouac lived here. You enter in the front and there's a kitchen and a bathroom and a bedroom, which is where I am sleeping. Then in the back there's a separate entrance where there is a big workroom and a small bathroom and a small bedroom, which is where Jack and his mom lived. How did you hear about the program? I was looking for a residency through NYFA, the New York Foundation for the Arts, which has a really big searchable database of resources. What did you use as a writing sample? I used the first chapter of my novel, which has yet to be published. Is it going to be published? I'm workin on it. Will you publish it? Were you a big fan of Jack Kerouac? I like him. I hadn't read anything more than On the Road, in all honesty, but I liked that book a whole lot. I have since read The Dharma Bums, since he wrote that when living here. But I like On the Road more. What about On the Road do you like? When I first read On the Road, it opened my eyes to so much: this youth culture, this American landscape, this remarkable style of literature. Now I see it more as a cultural icon and reference point; I've seen a lot of those places, know a lot of people like that, read other things that pushed literature in new directions. But this one book did so much of that for millions of people, really opened America's eyes, helped the country come of age. What if it were The Dean Koontz Project or the Dan Brown Project, would you have applied? Yeah, I would have. Actually, Bob Seger also used to live here, so I guess there was a big debate about whether or not there'd be the Jack Kerouac House or the Bob Seger House. But mostly I was looking for a way to get out of New York City and write for a while. What do you think of Orlando? Is it a good place to live if you want to stay in and concentrate on writing? It's a good town to concentrate on writing in. I've gone out once, on Friday, with a kid I travelled with once. It was a little like an overgrown frat party. - none of us were in love with it, but it's also the place where people go, begrudgingly. It's also a very car-centric city, and I don't have a car. 5 blocks is a long way to walk here. So it's a good place to buckle down. I've been here less than a week and I'm still working out the schedule. I've been getting up at 7 or 7:30 - I like writing in the morning. In Brooklyn I'd get up at 5:30 or 6 and write for 3 hours before work if I had a good idea. I'm trying to cope with the mid-afternoon doldrums, when you've been working but the day's not over yet - either I'll settle down or I'll buy myself a small trampoline. What are you working on?Right now I'm trying to get some illustrations out the door. I'm collaborating with Harvey Pekar - which is wild and crazy. A professor of mine edits a lot of graphic novel anthologies and Harvey Pekar was looking for someone to illustrate a script for an anthology of a bunch of stuff by Studs Terkel. You're Ryan Hagen's wet dream right now. Hi Ryan! Yeah, it is random and fun. The drawing style isn't exactly my scene or come particularly naturally to me, but with due diligence, it'll look the way comic books are supposed to look. I did the drawings in New York but there's a million hours of Photoshop work at the end, retouching the scans. So in addition to the Pekar stuff, I also want to write some short stories. What's the expectation for you down there? Do they know you're going to be painting? I don't know that they know about the art stuff, but I don't see why it would bother them. Especially if I'm like, "it's a graphic novel...." But it really is a very open residency. I came in saying to them, "I wrote this book and I really want to write more but I can't think hard enough in New York." I have to give a reading at the end, that's my only obligation. What's it going to be like? I think it's going to be wine and cheese-y, with a lot of people from the community, but I'm not sure. The last woman that was here kind of took Orlando by storm; she just sold her book and is starting the Columbia MFA program now, so she had her shit together in a way I can only aspire to. Using her as a model of what the residency is like would be problematic for me. But then again, I could. What are your short stories going to be about? I have an idea that they will have the same cast of characters as my novel and tie into the novel in some way. Instead of saying, "I will compose a novel," I like working in a way where things come back around. Novel is done? Maybe near the end of the residency I'll pick it back up but for now I'm really happy with it. So I just need to convince someone with a press of the same. Do you want to give a short synopsis of it? Sure. It's called Blue-Eyed Apples, and it's a coming-of-age story that is set about five or seven years ago. It's about a boy and a girl who grow up together and move across the country and learn how to make buildings and make movies side by side. Have you been focused on the story between the two characters, or is there a big preoccupation with the style? Well I had this idea, and, well I still think it's a good idea, but it's put me into an experimental realm of fiction that's harder to get out there, but the idea that the novel is written as a film. As a painter I really like to talk about art and visual things, so I wanted the narrative to be very visual. So it almost reads like a movie. Has that changed in the past months? The draft I read had parts written as a screenplay. I took out most of the screenplay elements. That's a physical...that's a movie written down, and it's not quite the same effect for the reader. So now it's just written in a very fast paced and intense style. You have a piece of writing on the Kerouac Project website. What's that? That is adapted from a chapter in the novel. I had this idea of the American road and seeing the country, experiencing that as a young man. It's two friends driving to every baseball stadium in the country, one or two a day, over the course of a month in the summer. I really like baseball. They asked for something and it something that is obviously...Kerouac-ian. Is that what the Kerouac people expect from you? What if you wrote, say, a meditative love letter to isolationist stock brokers? Would they ask you for rent? Well no, they're a pretty laid back crew down here. You're talking about travel with regard to writing now, and from what I know of you personally, you talk about travel fairly often. But what you're writing about isn't an undiscovered little cave in Andora with giant green frogs - or the converse, critiquing that kind of thing. You're talking about the flyover zones and stuff that's in front of us. David Foster Wallace wrote a little thing once about how he thinks domestic or familiar travel is endlessly better than foreign travel that is an imposition on places that would be unequivocally better and realer without tourists. Something that always comes back to me is nostalgia. Collective nostalgia and personal nostalgia. My mom is from Nebraska and I've been there, but once my grandmother passed away, I didn't know when I was going to go back to Omaha. On your website you can see the links to your articles from the Brown newspaper, bits of your fiction, your graphic novel, paintings of yours, mentions of your saxophone gigs. Why so many things?I think because I have to. I wish I didn't; I wonder sometimes if it's lack of principle, and if I want to be a writer, why did I bring my saxophone to Florida?, but I like learning how to express myself in different ways and I like putting myself in hard situations in that way. I would have been fine being an English major in college, but I decided that I wanted to learn how to paint, and painting with oils is one of the hardest things I've ever done. So I could have stopped at any point, in learning these different mediums, but I chose not to. I don't know, we're still young so maybe something will get ousted in the next few years, but I hope not. Do you think of yourself as a polymath? Oh, I don't think I've mastered any of those things. I've been fortunate that some things come pretty easy to me, but I also take that to mean I work very hard. The fact that I learned how to play the baritone saxophone doesn't mean that I think a lot of myself for it. I want to learn it better. I think it's just more that I like knowing about the different things out there and having a cache of experiences through them. The traditional graphic novel form doesn't really do it for me. But the idea of putting words and images together is great. I'd love to find a way to put them together that is more synergistic with my practice. When you work in all these different mediums, are you dealing with similar issues, or is it, "I generally paint when I am sad, write when I am inspired" type of thing? Like I said, I really think nostalgia. I keep coming back to being an observer of person. There's a lot of different ways to observe. I'm not a science-fiction writer. I really am trying to capture the human emotions and the beauty in the world around us in my writing. And with painting as well. A lot of times those are fleeting things, that are gone, but I want to find them. My favorite thing to do is to get my saxophone and play a jazz ballad, one of those really old-timey Duke Ellington kind of things. I know there's a lot more music out there and I should be playing different things, but that's what I like to do. I wish I could write adventure stories or play be-bop better, but I'm drawn to the sort of beauty of either sadness or nostalgia or memories. Sadness, but when you say nostalgia, you're trying to get at it in a positive sense, more like Our Town than Winesburg, Ohio? Because I'm an optimistic person, but, well, my graphic novel wasn't particularly optimistic. It was me walking around literally for a year with these images in my head and not knowing how to cope with them; I'd been in this foreign country during this bombing and I didn't know what to do, and it took literally drawing pane for pane all of that confusion and all of those horrible images, it took going through all of that again, and I came up with a coherent work out of that. In that case, you experienced it and a graphic novel was what came from it. Yes. I think even my fiction is an extension of that, taking people or places I've been and re-imagining them. If I meet someone at a coffee shop, what happens when they go home? Or someone tells me a story about their mother and I'll think about that mother six months from now, what it was like for her to grow up. It feels very weird to be our age and be stuck in the past, to be so enamored with old-timey music and wear vintage dresses and to prefer making hand-made books instead of websites. But then again, I'm stuck there. Stuck there as in, your job was doing graphic design and making websites for people. Yes. But with my art, I feel like painting is on its way out. Of course there's digital stuff now and it feels very antiquated to commit yourself, but also necessary, and I'm interested in taking old images, paintings or found photography, and giving them a second life with an outdated medium. So even my painting has something to do with nostalgia and things past. Do you find that because you're doing writing and music and painting, and living in New York, that it's hard to concentrate on any one, or even to read a lot of books or listen to new things? Yeah, it is. It's really good to be down here. There were times [in New York] when I found myself only listening to Swedish power-pop for a few weeks, just because I forgot to try something new. There are weeks when I only read The New Yorker. And that doesn't make me happy, I don't like that. It's amazing that since I've been down here I get up, I write, I write some more, I read some, I work on this Harvey Pekar thing, and then it's 11pm. It's amazing anyone functions in New York I guess. Emily Nemens is 24 and will return to Brooklyn in December. Some of her work is available at her website. If you own a printing press, she will gladly send you her novel. |
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loyal ilovepostage readers will recall a previous interview done with chris stanislowski, a great friend that moved to argentina last fall. he is still living in buenos aires, where he teaches english, is becoming fluent in spanish, and is gettin knee deep in the mud and scrappin with the best of them. unfortunately for chris, this scrappin' led to an accident on september 10, an accident he described to me on gchat later that night.
chris is no stranger to medical tribulations. while in wisconsin last christmas break, chris told his eye doctor that he was having some problems with his vision. a week later he was undergoing emergency surgery to repair a detached retina in his right eye. while his detached retina might have been diagnosed by high tech tools, a decent way to fix the problem wasn't on our radar just yet. so chris spent the next three weeks lying on his stomach in a massage chair, face through the occipital hole, waiting for a gas bubble to center itself on the retinal aperture until the retina was sucked back into place and reattached itself.
you would think that toughness gleaned from this experience, reasonable apprehension about borderline Second World healthcare and a modicum of pride would have kept chris out of the hospital after a tvp (textured vegetable protein) experience gone awry but, what can i say, the man is always full of surprises and i have deemed his pain to be sufficiently quirky to warrant an interview.

I was trying to separate two frozen veggie burgers with a butcher knife. well, they separated. and in the chaos that ensued a portion of my ring finger on my left hand separated too.
I blame myself. and vegetelex. no, i didn't cut it off. just bled for a while in the apartment. after i got back from the hospital i ordered food from next door cuz i was gonna be damned before i tried to cook again and the crazy old guy who owns the restaurant asked cameron if she cut me for "behaving badly"

i'd think that's how most middle class-y people would deal with things. go to the private hospital if it were an emergency, free public one for checkups.
they put a buckle on my eye that squeezed it so that it would reattach better. it's still there. my eye is more oval now, and it made my eyesight much worse in that eye.
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![]() I've been friends with Jim Therkalsen for about 6 months now, and in the interest of professional decorum will describe him thusly: Jim looks like a normal guy but distinguishes himself from Joe Everyman by being notably blunt and funny. He is quite good at soccer and works in advertising. hey jim, how old are you? 28. 29 in June what's your earliest memory of Mother's Day? um, I don't know if I have any memories of it. it's just another day that I sometimes remember to buy flowers on. when you were a kid, did your family get together and do something special? Or do you have no general memories of it at all? i would say none at all. we maybe would go to red lobster or something but I don't have a specific memory of anything. i also don't have very many specific memories of anything do you remember mothers day things? is your mom particularly unsentimental or are you and your father particularly uncaring? more of the uncaring variety. not so much uncaring as oblivious. what about Father's Day? same thing? ummmm, no. we play golf with my dad on fathers day a lot and with my grandpa you and your brothers? do you have any sisters? one younger brother and one younger sister so did your sister hang out with your mom on Mother's Day? I'm always worried I'm going to use the wrong word talking to you and feel like an idiot. like oblivious. I know what it means, but after I wrote it I looked it up on dictionary.com well the only words you've been using so far have been brother sister and mother my sister used to be a homebody, so she was always hanging out with my mom. i was just watching a documentary with subtitles and someone said "remunerate" and i wasn't too sure it was a word. sure enough, it is. to settle a financial matter mothers day usually = family dinner renumerate sounds right. remunerate sounds wrong. yeah, dif words. who knew I'll be damned. what about your parents' birthdays? my dad's is right near father's day and my mom's is right before christmas, so they get combined celebrations ![]() do you know if your dad usually did anything for your mom on mother's day? he usually gets her flowers or presents (clothes) I think. my dad is a very guarded person and never shows emotion or appreciation unless it's through sarcasm was there ever a time when he underdid it or completely forgot Mother's Day, and your mom got angry? I don't think so. My mom is also not really the angry type. she would just get sad. hypothetically, or one time she got sad? hypothetically. what's with the questions? have you ever forgotten mother's day? I'm positive I have forgotten it. i forget everything with any repercussions? not that I remember did she bring it up afterwards? or you just remembered a few days late and said sorry no, she didn't bring it up. she never would. she didn't even bring up that I forgot their anniversary, I was talking to her and looking at my calendar and realized it was two days earlier. she didn't even say anything i usually remember late and send a card or something. are you working for mothersday.com? is your parents' anniversary a bigger deal to them/your family than their respective days'? are you doing an article on bad sons? I would say anniversary is to them, but we don't do anything as a family for it. mothers/fathers day involves family activity what do you think of mother's day? corporate behemoth capitalist hallmark god damn hell in a handbasket just be nice to her everyday instead? I think it's a Hallmark holiday, but I think it's good for people who aren't overly thoughtful. It reminds you, hey, mom is great I should do something. And if you're like my dad and don't typically show emotion, you can do something nice and not feel--whatever it is he feels that makes him what he is why is your mom great? she's just a generally warm, giving, genuine person. very understanding and thoughtful, good sense of humor, just sort of takes things in stride. she's also not jesus crazy or cat crazy or addicted to prescription drugs or botoxed or any of the "bad mom" stereotypes. given my mom's current state, this conversation has just become very awkward is she crazy? no no, just a joke alright. you could have gone on with that. and I would have pretended to feel bad, but then talked shit about your mom to all our friends. well i didn't say "no no, just a hilarious joke" what are you going to do for mother’s day this year? this year I sent my mom some tulips from proflowers.com. the least thoughtful thing I could do. ![]() how'd you choose proflowers.com? i thought 1800flowers.com was the standard they send me an e-mail that said "don't forget flowers" it was just their luck that I had been thinking about mothersday. if you had a mom that was internet savvy, you could send hera card that said, "i was going to get you flowers from http://www.dearmomiloveyousomuchandthinkyouarethebest.com i tried to order them and the internet said "404 error: address not found". no kidding. the internet always knows so well. love, son” or you could buy that website and post a picture of flowers and say "they'll be here all year. enjoy." well jim, i have a feeling that when your mom gets her pro flowers, she will smile. but when she gets an e-mail saying, "head on over to ilovepostage.blogspot.com and check out the newest interview" and reads what you really think of her, she will smile even more and when my dad reads it, he will show no emotion. i think the only stumbling block is do you know if your dad usually did anything for your mom on mother's day? i could change your answer to say "he usually gets her flowers or clothes. he's more of a sarcasm kind of guy and less of a buy things for you kind of guy" nah, leave it. anything you've been meaning to tell your folks but can't do face to face? does it smell like mothballs in the closet? give them my love and tell them not to worry about me; i'm modern man. alright. i have to go take a #2, then go to bryant park and take a nap. see ya. Jim Therkalsen's personal website is www.jimtherkalsen.com. He also maintains a blog, I'm an Idea Man. |
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