Yesterday our school had two visitors from an NGO called ViAfrica, which is based in Moshi. They donate computers to schools, as well as providing service contracts and training - their approach is really great for this kind of environment, because here in Tanzania, simply donating computers isn't enough. People from other countries might think that donating a computer is always a positive thing, but that isn't necessarily the case. Usually, the computers that get donated to Africa are extremely old computers that aren't worth anything in the originating country, and that would otherwise simply be thrown away. This is the case for many things here, including clothes. Ever wonder if those old clothes you donated actually went anywhere? Well, they do. It's a never-ending source of amusement (and sadness as well) to see Tanzanians walking around with shirts like "Johnson Family Reunion 1997", or men wearing "I Defeated Breast Cancer".
But clothing is one story - computers are another entirely. Donating very old equipment can often be a hassle, or worse a serious drain on a school's resources. The problem is that spare parts for old computers can be difficult - actually generally impossible - to find here. This means that when an older computer breaks, it's probably done for good. Otherwise, the school has to spend money (if parts are available) fixing up an old, crappy computer that it could have used to purchase a newer computer for probably the same price.
Donated computers are also usually of widely varying types, which makes supporting/servicing them that much more of a headache, especially when you consider that your average secondary school will not have anyone on staff that knows about computer repair. In our computer lab, for example, there are computers that came from the US, from the UK, and from Germany. That means we have three types of keyboards, one from each country. When your kids are trying to learn how to type, but every other computer is different, it can be very frustrating for them. The US and UK keyboards aren't that different, but the German ones are. To be honest, that kind of annoys me that someone wouldn't consider that maybe Tanzanians don't know German before donating the computer (the country did used to be a German colony, but almost nobody here speaks German).
I remember a scene in The Constant Gardener when Ralph Fiennes' character goes to Sudan to find a doctor who supposedly knows why his wife was killed. He finds him working in a small village, where the doctor shows him "donated" medicines from Western countries that are well past their expiration dates. I believe the line he said was "disposable drugs for disposable people", and called Africa the dumping ground for the world's refuse. When I first saw the movie I thought maybe the writers were being a bit sensationalistic, but after being here I'd say they weren't that far off the mark. People and corporations from wealthier countries get to write off donations, but often what they're donating is junk - so basically, they get a tax break for dumping their trash on Africa, instead of in a landfill. As optimistic as I tend to be about the long-term outlook of the human race, it's stuff like this that makes it hard not to become extraordinarily cynical.
I do recognize that not everyone who engages in charitable giving is doing so for nefarious reasons, and that probably most people are genuinely trying to do some good. However, simply wanting to do good isn't enough (the road to hell, and all that), because even the most well-intentioned plans can be detrimental if they are based on idealism and not in reality. There are consequences to everything, and ignorance of possible ramifications is not an excuse for blind giving.
This applies to Peace Corps volunteers as well. The title of this post was the title of a short passage given to us during training by another PCV. It talked about how a volunteer was living in an area where there was very little water, and so he decided that he wanted to raise money to build a well and a windmill that would pump the water up to the surface. This was a rather large project by Peace Corps standards, but he got the money, and everyone in the area was very happy. They build the well and the windmill, and for the first time in a long time the people had a reliable source of water.
The PCV finished his service, and went back to the US. After several years, he returned to the country where he had served, and visited his village. What he found was that the pumps for the well had broken, and nobody in the village had the skill to fix them, so the magnificent contraption he had built was now in disuse. Which means the people in the village were back to square one, despite all the money that had been spent.
Now this person was a PCV, who was not some far-removed donor who has no idea what the reality of the situation in a remote village is. He lived there, he worked with the people, and he knew what their needs were. But despite this, he still managed to use a large amount of money on a construction project that ultimately turned out to be a failure. If someone like this can make an error, it's easy to see how your average person in the US might have little to no idea as to how their donation is actually going to affect people.
But for most PCVs, I think, there is a desire to contribute something more to our schools than just teaching. Why? Because teaching is an intangible contribution, and most of us will probably never see the fruits of our labor while we are in the country. However, it's much easier to point to a classroom and say "I built that". It's something concrete, and there's instant gratification.
Not that that's the only - or even main - motivation for PCVs to write grants. I think every single PCV is at a school where there is a glaring need for something, whether it be a library, computers, a science lab, books, or something as simple as desks and chairs. My school is a pretty nice school by Tanzanian standards, but even here there are very obvious needs. And we came here to help, right? So self-gratification isn't the reason, it's just that many PCVs came here because they want to help, and it's very difficult to see a problem but say "sorry, I can't do anything".
We had a session about this during our in-service training. The Peace Corps staff asked our Tanzanian counterparts how they would feel if the PCV left their school after two years with only having taught. Most of them said they would feel sad that the PCV didn't want to contribute more to the school - the session was done for a purpose, because this type of reaction isn't what Peace Corps wants. Our primary purpose is a human resource, not as a source of money. Therefore, the staff then had to explain more what exactly the role of a PCV is, to try and get them to understand that even if the PCV doesn't build/donate something, they have still given to the school.
Which is true, but that's harder said than done. I think the main purpose was to make it clear that our schools are not to pressure us into doing something we don't want (or that isn't wise), which is perfectly fair. But external pressure isn't an issue for me, anyway - I've long since insulated myself from people asking me for things. The pressure is rather an internal thing, and is me making myself feel like I need to do more than just teach. And that's something I have to deal with myself.
Despite all this, I have identified a few projects that the school could really use help with. I am constantly trying to analyze each one to make sure that I am going into this with both eyes open - I don't doubt that they will provide a real benefit for the teachers and students, but it all comes back to being realistic about the possible negative outcomes. Obviously nobody can ever truly know the future, so despite the most thorough planning, it's still possible that something can go wrong. But that's a risk you have to take, because otherwise nobody would ever do anything. As long as you have thoroughly thought the process through, it comes down to what I said in a previous post - you do what you can, and hope for the best.
So what does all of this have to do with a visit from an NGO? Well, as I said, they donate computers to schools, and a few months ago I submitted an application to them (but I didn't actually write the application - the school's secondmaster did that). They finally came to visit our school yesterday, and after the visit, I feel fairly certain that the school is going to receive computers (20) from them.
These are still used computers, but there's an important difference - the NGO has minimum specifications they require for all the computers (for example, they all have Pentium III CPUs or faster), and they also make sure that all 20 computers are of the same type. This is a really wonderful idea, because a) it means you're getting pretty fast computers, and b) having them all be the same makes supporting them so much easier. They also do all of the installation for you. But the two best parts are that they provide a service contract to schools at a low cost (about $30/month), and they also provide training for teachers and staff.
These two aspects are really, really crucial. Why? Because it's actually not that hard, I think, to get computers here (at least in the northern part where I am, which is much more developed than the rest of Tanzania). The problems come after you get computers - who fixes them when they break, and who teaches? Sure, you might be able to find someone who can teach Microsoft Word, but finding someone who knows how to open a computer and replace things like RAM, the CPU, or the hard drive is exponentially more difficult. That's why computers that break here often stay broken, simply because nobody knows what to do to fix them. So the service contract is a great way to make sure that the computers stay functioning, and that the students and staff can continue to benefit from having them.
The training is important as well, especially for a secondary school. Teachers don't make much money here, and anyone who is knowledgeable about computers can probably find a higher-paying job somewhere else, which makes attracting a computer teacher to a secondary school a difficult proposition. Obviously you can try and train current teachers so that they can become competent enough to teach computers, and in fact this was one of the goals for my second year of service. However, realistically it's a bit more difficult for me, simply because I also have a rather full load of teaching duties as well. If we get computers from this NGO, it will be another source of training for the staff, and it will also be coming from a more professional source. As much as I know about computers, my guess is that they can do a better job than me at teaching. Plus, their training can continue after I finish my service, whereas any training I do will be finished when I leave.
To me, I think this NGO (and there is another one like it as well in Moshi) is a huge step forward in providing assistance to schools. There's so much more to IT development than simply giving equipment, and I think their model can really ensure the sustainability of computer teaching. Plus, while the NGO is based in the Netherlands, the local branches are staffed almost entirely by Tanzanians, which means Tanzanians are helping Tanzanians (and not just Westerners).
To be honest, this NGO is the reason why we might be getting computers, because if there were no service or training components to their assistance, I would be extremely hesitant to bring more computers here. I expressed this sentiment to my headmaster, explaining to him that while I could bring computers here, what happens if I leave and the school doesn't receive another PCV? I mentioned this before, but this was exactly what happened after the last volunteer left my school in 2004 - he wasn't replaced, and as a result the school basically stopped teaching computers. For me to bring computers here and then have them sit idle after I leave would be a waste of time, when those computers could have gone to another school where they would actually have been used.
So am I falling victim to the "edifice complex"? Maybe, but I'd like to think that I've thought this through as much as I possibly can.
