Friday, December 14, 2007
As I write this, an old cement-block school is being fixed up in the slums near Calcutta using some of the money we raised at the festival. I shall post the pictures when I have them. The rest of the money will be used on our next project in Laos, where we are helping very poor kindergarten schools in the Khong District. Last year we completely overhauled a kindergarten, and built them washroom facilities with access to clean water (info and pics here).
It has been a mad year, as soon after the festival Thanou and I got married--two major events one month apart! I don't recommend doing it that way, but it was a great party and now we're legit, ha.
We'll be leaving for Asia on December 26, but first on the list is our honeymoon--one week at a small beach town near Bangkok. Then we'll be heading to Laos to oversee our work there. Come back every now and then to read our updates!
Shawn & Thanou
Monday, October 1, 2007
Last night Thanou and I did a web-radio interview with Joe Chisholm at IndieCan that also featured one of our artists for the event--Joshua Bartholomew. It was a real gift to be able to listen to Joshua in the studio. At only 22, he has the range of Jeff Buckley, and a heart the size of Canada. After listening to him last night I'm quite certain he's destined for stardom.
Our Amazing Musicians (Saturday's Event)
But Joshua's not the only one headed for stardom. All of our artists have uncommon talent. There's Kat Goldman (whose unforgettable voice will break your heart), Andy Carey (whose Brit pop tunes will linger with you for days), Tucker Finn (who is guaranteed to make you laugh and cry at the same time), MEAStars (whose singer-cello revolution will get into your bones), and Peter Verity (whose soulful folk will make you feel right at home). And that's just Saturday!
Talented Young Musicians (Sunday's Event)
On Sunday we have partnered with the School Alliance of Student Songwriters (SASS), run by Dale Russell (former lead guitarist for The Guess Who) and Artemis Chartier (musician and teacher). SASS nurtures talented young songwriters--teaching them how to write and compose their own music through mentorships with working musicians. We have five of their best young musicians playing on Sunday: Lindsay Broughton, Joey and Cierra MacDonald, Lindsay Regan, Justin Bridgemohan and Tafar-I Davis. A guest appearance will be made by Dale Russell and Artemis Chartier. The event will close with a performance by The Bungalows.
Behind the Scenes--A Big Thank You
It has been a bit crazy this year with the expanded format, and we wouldn't be here at all without all the incredible help and support we received from others. First, we are grateful to our dedicated volunteers, who have helped us put this all together. We are also extremely grateful to Intelliware Dev. for sponsoring our event for the second year in a row. Finally, we are grateful to Songwriters' Unite! and SASS, who help provide artists for this event, and to our promotional partners IndieCan and MegaMusic. Thanks to you all!
Look forward to seeing you all at the festival!
Shawn and Thanou
Friday, August 31, 2007
June: was spent finalizing our lineup of songwriters for this year's Toronto Songwriters Festival, October 13/14 at Hugh's Room. It is going to be our best festival ever! For all the latest on that, and bios of all musicians, drop by our new dedicated festival website (created by Thanou!) at http://www.torontosongwritersfestival.com/.
July: We sent the teachers in Laos for 2 weeks of teacher training in the big city of Vientiane (the teachers only have a grade 7 education). Everything went extremely well, and they will soon be teaching what they learned to other schools in the district.
Also in July, I took two intensive leadership programs in order to better oversee the work for Jai Dee. But more importantly, we partnered with School Alliance of Student Songwriters (SASS), to help run the Sunday (young artist) segment of our music festival this October. It was founded by two incredibly big-hearted people: Artemis Chartier (singer-songwriter and high school teacher) and Dale Russell (songwriter and lead guitarist of The Guess Who, l983-2000).
In August, an angel named Sharon Barfoot (a.k.a. Zappha) along with fellow organizers Peter J. Slack and Kiera Merriam held a music festival fundraiser for Jai Dee at Sauble Beach as part of their Brewster's Coffeehouse Tour and http://www.myonesquaremile.com/ project. It was an amazing, magical night that ended with musicians playing drums on the beach until 3 am, and we were so grateful to be a part of it.
Thanou finished the new website for the festival: http://www.torontosongwritersfestival.com/. Let us know what you think!
And we have held a number of meetings with our volunteer Events Advisory Board, where lots of great ideas have been introduced and built upon, posters, cards and videos have been designed, over 100 pink heart necklaces have been made (for the auction!) and lots of good food has been shared (our meetings are potlucks!). We are so grateful for our volunteers--nothing we have done would exist without them.
And all the things we have done for the children would not have happened without you! So...we look forward to seeing you all at the festival on October 13/14!
Saturday, March 17, 2007
This is part of the reason why I'm behind on updates...uploading all those photos!
I returned from India still reeling from food poisoning (I got it a second time the day before I got on the plane, if you can believe that!), but I'm fully recovered now and excited to be working on Jai Dee's projects for 2007!
Lots of great stuff is happening. Thanou is building a new website that will be easier to navigate (and easier to update). We're already out listening to musicians, searching for the "best of the best" to perform at this year's festival. And, based on your suggestions last year, we're thinking about expanding the festival into a two-day event (the second day will be an all-ages event, so whole families can attend)! Currently we're looking at late September/early October.
We'll be holding our first volunteers meeting for 2007 very soon, which will surely lead to many more inspirations and ideas on how we will help the children at our projects in Laos and India this year.
Shawn & Thanou
Monday, February 12, 2007
I have come to India to check out a children's school project in the slums of Howrah, called Samaritan Help Mission, run by a fellow named Mamoon, who is basically a male version of Mother Teresa. His whole life is dedicated to helping poor children and abandoned women.
The day starts at 8 AM and I'm tired. I was up till 1 AM writing, though I was in for the night by 8 PM for my own safety. As a woman alone in India, I don't even feel safe in my room (granted, I'm staying at a cheap hotel on Sudder St.)--where the attendants keep calling my phone line and asking me out while doing heavy breathing. At 11 PM one of them knocked on my door and I refused to open it. After that, I didn't sleep so good. My plan was to ask my friend, Mamoon, to come talk to the manager tomorrow.
Visiting a Children's Orphanage/School In India
I hailed a taxi for "Science City," which was near my destination, a school run by another organization that helps children (I'm always trying to learn all I can from others, to improve how we help children). He got me there, but there was no sign of the school. I walked past slums made of lean-to shacks. This didn't seem good like a good place to be walking alone, so I phoned the school with the cell phone Mamoon loaned me for safety.
"You're almost here," she said. "Keep walking." Twenty minutes later, past many pairs of curious eyes, a garbage dump with two people digging for treasures (including a young boy) and a river of sewage sludge alongside shacks where people live, I arrived at the school. But there were no children. They had the day off. Malati, the woman who invited me, apologized, saying she thought they were putting on a cultural show that afternoon, but actually it's that night. Did I want to stay?
I couldn't, but I had a lovely chat with Malati, a woman from the UK who had lived in India for 16 years, about her many projects in the rural areas of West Bengal. She learned to speak Bengali in order to connect with local women, then the door opened to their extremely difficult lives. This led her to raise money under her own tiny NGO to be found at www.poor.org.in. I learned about the many challenges she faced with scheduling (volunteers going to the wrong train station for example), monsoon season, supply issues and especially funding shortages--guess all grassroots charities face that challenge! (BTW: If you're looking to help build a school in rural India, physically or financially, this is your woman!) She invited me to catch a train with her in a couple of days to visit a school project, but I'd already committed to helping Mamoon's school this time.
It's frustrating when there are so many children to help, and we only have the resources to help a few. With JDCF, we want to keep our focus small so we can closely monitor everything we do and make sure it has a real impact.
We shared a tasty vegetarian lunch on the kitchen floor with the teachers and women from a live-in ashram. They talked me into eating a salad they'd just made. I knew better, but it was literally dumped on my plate.
The Danger of Diarrhea
The cramps began at midnight, and full-fledged puking two hours later. The rest you don't want to know. But I now have a firm understanding of how so many children die of simple stomach issues--because you lose so much water so quickly that you become severely dehydrated. If you haven't experienced it, it's hard to get across just how much pours out of your body. And it happens fast. When I woke again at a 11 AM, I felt like I'd been hit with a frying pan. I had water, and I'd been drinking it regularly, but my lips were still cracking from dehydration. I needed electrolytes (a mix of salt, sugar and water). Problem: I couldn't stray from a washroom for more than 15 to 30 minutes...which, incidentally, meant I was still losing water.
I knew Mamoon would come and help me, but I didn't want to bother him. The people he was helping needed him more than me. I convinced myself that if I just got more sleep I'd have the strength to go out. I'd had food poisoning before and it only lasted 12 hours. Of course, not all food poisoning experiences are equal. When I woke again an hour later everything was spinning. And when I stood up, I almost blacked out. Now I knew for sure I was seriously dehydrated. I had to go out. I went to the front desk and asked the guy (who was leering at me, even though I looked like hell) where the nearest pharmacy was and inched my way there. It was many blocks but I made it. On the way back, I kept blacking out on the busy street. Every few paces I stopped and talked myself into staying conscious. Anyone watching must have thought I was stoned.
At this point I realized I should have called Mamoon for help but it felt too late. Halfway back to the guesthouse, the cramps started again (time to run), and I wanted nothing more than to be alone. I bought some plain cookies and more water so I wouldn't have to venture out again. The rest of the day was spent in bed, grateful for my private bathroom, but still feeling supremely sorry for myself, sick and alone in Kolkata.
That night it rained. The water poured in torrents. This made me forget about my small stomach problem. Because I knew that just a few feet outside on the street there were families with babies with no shelter at all.
There are over one million homeless in this city, and at least half of them will have stomach problems like mine at any given time--children are especially prone because their stomachs haven't yet met all the new bacteria. And many of those children will die.
I saw their open lives with my own eyes. It's not possible to miss them here; you would have to be blind. Though many people choose not to look, I'm glad I'm no longer one of those people, and that I'm trying to do something no matter how small. I'm also glad that I've met so many great people who feel the same way, and this can change the world. It was Mother Teresa who said that famous phrase: You can't do great things in this world, only small things with great love.
And now I am grateful for this simple room, which, at home might be called basic, but here it is a luxury that many can't afford. I'm fortunate, at least, to have a dry place to sleep.
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
All of this brings me to Mamoon's latest project, which I visited yesterday. At the moment it's only a ramshackle building in the middle of the worst neighbourhood you can imagine.
I walked in through a narrow alley of closed doors, turning left to follow the river of open sewage, piled with garbage. Here I saw the women washing their clothes and themselves. Children played all around them. There were also huge piles of something that looked like long paper firecrackers. I asked Mamoon what they were. "They wrap thread around them," he said. They were the centre of thread spindles, almost worthless as far as production, yet here were the people who made them. "Which people" I asked. "The children," Mamoon said. This was backed with an interview with four of the children, all of different ages. None went to school, all of them made the paper spindles.
By the time we reached the building for the future school we were completely surrounded by children of all ages, many of the youngest ones wearing dark eyeliner. They laughed when I made faces at the youngest children, loved seeing themselves on video and followed us everywhere. The building was a basic concrete construction, sturdy but needing a lot of work. It had a huge yard surrounded by high brick walls (very useful for a neighbourhood such as this), and lots of potential. The property was donated. From the roof I could look out over the expanse of the district, a barren place littered with garbage, shacks and sewage. But a large group of laughing, beautiful children huddled outside in front of the school waving at me . While filming them I started to cry, but quickly wiped the tears away since Mamoon isn't used to such shows of emotion. But how could I not look at this and cry? Not a single one of these children was in school, had ever been to school. And they all worked for what was essentially an outdoor factory making these paper spindles. Is this progress? Whatever it is, it's plain wrong.
So the school needs everything, from refurbishing to all supplies. When I show you the pictures and video of these kids I know you will feel as strongly about it as I do--it's not possible to see them and not want to help them. The best part is there is a leader in place here, Mamoon, who will make sure everything runs efficiently and not a dollar is wasted (of course we will keep track as well, as is our policy). But first I will give this project due diligence and make sure we're in the best position to help. He has appealed to another organization with more funding, so if he can get that he may not need us for this particular project.
He also has a bigger dream--to build and run a full-fledged school from kindergarten to grade 10. He has collected some funds toward this dream, but nowhere near what he needs. This project is likely out of our league because of the large costs involved, but if you know a person or organization who might be interested in helping him let us know! Right now, most of Jai Dee's help on this project has been in an advisory capacity--sharing best practices and ideas on fundraising, building leadership capacity, and ideas for future local ventures that could support the school.
I will spend the next two weeks visiting the various existing projects learning as much as I can, in order to find out the best way we can help with our limited resources. We have a small amount of money to spend on this project right now, approximately $1,000--which will likely go directly toward books and similar resources for the children, as well as toward a busted water tank for the toilet. Of course I will continue sharing whatever happens with you!
Last month, Mamoon Akhtar won an award for integrating children of different beliefs in a harmonious way, and helping to improve their lives through education (there are many problems caused by religious differences in India). At first, he refused to accept the award because, he says, he doesn't believe in them.
"Awards grow dusty and the sound of clapping fades. The true award is, from the lap of the mother till the death bed, how much time a person has spent serving humanity." He did go to receive it, however, once he learned that it included an opportunity to speak with a large number of youth.
Frankly, when I first read about Mamoon on the Internet, I thought he sounded too good to be true. Then after emailing with him for a while I was intrigued enough to empty out my bank account for a plane ticket and haul my butt to India to meet him. Now I'm here for two weeks to learn all I can about his work, and I can tell you that after just one day I am humbled by what this man is doing, not to mention exhausted just attempting to follow him around.
The Making of a Great Leader
When Mamoon Akhar was 12 years old he got polio and lost most of the use of his left hand. At 13 he was kicked out of school. It wasn't his fault. His father had been pushed out of his job, so he couldn't pay for school exams. A year later his father died. Mamoon went to work to support his mother and family, first in a shoe factory then an iron factory. But he never gave up on education. In his spare time he took courses and managed to finish up to grade 12. Finally, he found a job as a librarian in a local school. It seemed like he had come full circle. But this was only the beginning.
One day, a boy came running into his house in the slum of Tikiapara (a few kilometres from Kolkata), where he was sitting around with some friends. The boy said a man was beating his mother, and pleaded with them to help. When they went they discovered that his mother was being beaten by a notorious druglord, a common problem in the area where druglords force women and children into the illegal trade. The druglord told the men, "Mind your own business," but they didn't listen. Instead, they called the police. A fight ensued where Mamoon was badly injured after being thrown down on the ground. After the druglord left, the woman said she didn't want to sell drugs, she wanted to keep her dignity. The boy said he wanted to learn how to read.
Mamoon decided to teach him, but when the boy came to his house he brought along five other boys. His friends and sister Jahanara helped teach the children until there were so many they needed a better location. So, in 2001, Mamoon turned a small piece of property (600 square feet) inherited from his father into a one-room school. It was located only steps from his home. As more children streamed in through its doors, two more floors were added. At this point, he says, he knew he had been given an important job in life: to help save the women and children from the clutches of the drug mafia in Tikiapara, and give them a real future.
He now has over 400 children and three schools (two in similarly tiny buildings donated by a local charity). He convinced local college girls to teach the children for free, though he covers some of their basic expenses. The children also pay a small fee to attend (5 rps per month), so it fosters a feeling of value. Mamoon donates half of his own small salary toward the administration (the other half goes toward supporting his wife, child, mother and the neighbourhood elderly women who have been ignored or abandoned by their children).
Every single classroom in each of these three schools is used in shifts for optimal use. In one classroom, kindergarten children are followed by computer literacy classes for girls (with donated computers), then classes for recent school dropouts, then coaching to children going to school who need help. When I visited the school last night, the final class, coaching for current students, was conducted by candlelight since power had gone out in the district (a regular problem). While the atmosphere inside the classroom was warm and collegial, outside in the alleys it was dark and menacing, a dangerous place to grow up and live, where children are often taught to hand out drugs to clients in small packets.
At another school I visited, a vocational school, I watched young women and widows who had been forced to work as housemaids or for the drug mafia, learning intricate embroidery, dressmaking, fabric painting and cosmetology. Eventually they will be able to work from home, where they can spend more time taking care of their children. This new independence will also help to keep them out of the drug trade.
Not only does Mamoon help the children, but he adopts their whole families. He believes it's the only way to educate the child and create a stronger community. He holds monthly meetings for mothers to talk about the importance of children being on time and clean when they come to class, and on supporting their efforts. He helps them with any problems they face, whether it be with electricity or druglords. He also teaches people self-reliance. Once when a woman kept coming to him asking for help whenever her husband beat her, he said: "You also have two hands. Why don't you use them?" Every time she would just put her hands together and beg for her husband to stop. So the next time her husband beat her she fought back, and that solved the problem.
He also helps the elderly. While I was with him, he gave one toothless woman a few rupees and a bear hug, and she cried with gratitude. He said there are a few elderly people in the neighbourhood he supports out of his own librarian's salary.
His schedule begins at 6 am and ends at 1 am, closing with hours of paperwork and solving school-related and community problems. He looks exhausted, with a ragged cough that he ignores. His wife tells him he works too much, he says, then defends himself with a quote from the famous Indian sage, Baba Amte, "My work is my life, my life is my work."
Jobs For Children
I'm walking toward Park St. in Kolkata (previously Calcutta)-- when I hear the rhythmic pounding of a drum. A small crowd has gathered, mostly children. My first instinct is to avoid whatever it is, because I'm craving familiarity. My goal is to find a cafe for breakfast.
Then I see her, balancing like a trapeze artist on wood pole no thicker than a handful of pencils. It is raised up about 8 feet on two basic wooden platforms. I can only see her from behind as she moves to the beat of the drum, her tiny body inching forward, her feet pushing along a metal pan with each step. The drum is played by a pre-teen boy, possibly her older brother. When she safely reaches the end and jumps down to collect money from the crowd, I see a flash of her eyes, thickly decorated with black kohl, now smudged down her cheeks. She's about 5 years old. This is her life.
And this is one of the better jobs for children in India. Thousands of children work up to 70 hours a week in the slums around this city. Yesterday, in Haora--just across the river from Kolkata, I saw an 8 year old boy crouched in a tiny cement room in an alley, covered from his forehead to his toes in black powder, used to make metal. All down this street the scene was repeated, machines clunking, fires burning, people sorting metal parts. Mostly young men working with dangerous materials. Two were using blowtorches, staring at the bright blue and white flames without protective glasses. They will eventually go blind.
Right now you can't find a newspaper or magazine in India that isn't boasting about it's new wealth and prosperity--Indians see themselves as living in the second world power after America. But as it often happens, the people helping to build this wealth are not benefitting. You could say at least they have a job, but what does that matter if you will go blind or get cancer from the chemicals, or if your childhood passes by in haze of smoke and machines?
But there is hope. And I have come to see its light; to see if we can help urge its flame into a brilliant fire. There are many people here trying to make a difference. I am here to visit one of these people, a man named Mamoon Akhar, who calls his project Samaritan Help Mission.
Tuesday, January 30, 2007
Today we met with the director of Enfants du Mekong, Benoit, based in Bangkok, to learn from him and see if there was some way we might collaborate our efforts. They are a respected and well-established organization, based in France, that has been helping children in this region for over a decade. They have an unusual approach, in that they use almost all volunteers to oversee their projects, and these volunteers raise their own money for this honour. They provide scholarships for children and also help with schools and some community projects along the Mekong River. A lot of their work is in Cambodia, but they are also working in Laos, Thailand and Vietnam. The main challenge, Benoit told us, was finding leadership--because their operation basically just funds local leaders with unique project ideas. This requires them to find highly competent local people to work with on the ground, because they are giving them money directly to run the projects. Quite a leap of faith! But they have a number of successful projects that attest to its value.
Happily we discovered that not only did we find Benoit's passion and love of helping children inspiring, we also discovered that we can help each other going forward. Their organization needs to find local leaders with the ideas and capacity to run strong education-based projects. Meanwhile, with our kindergarten school project going into its second phase now, capacity building (after its first, very successful phase, providing resources) Jai Dee Children's Fund is both building leadership in Laos at the teaching level and also we are personally searching out leadership at all levels of education, by constantly talking to people on the ground and learning all we can. So when we find great leaders with great project ideas in Laos who need more financial support than we can provide (likely with our current limited budget), then we can direct them to Enfants du Mekong! Very exciting stuff. More and more it is becoming clear that the way to make a difference is as part of a collaborative effort where we all work together toward the same cause--helping children.
We caught a tuk tuk to the office of GAPE International on the outskirts of Pakse where we met with Ian Baird, a founder and director of the organization. He's been working in
We also met with the head of one of GAPE’s partner projects. Ramsey is creating a non-formal vocational style school in a village on a mountain near Pakse that will mostly serve the young adults of a minority ethnic hilltribe group who have otherwise very little education. It will teach resourcefulness and creative thinking, as well as handicraft trades such as weaving and soap making.
Our approach to helping others includes connecting and partnering with as many people as possible who already have a successful track record of working with people in development. We believe that the best way to make a lasting difference is as part of network, continously learning and growing in a flexible way.
Shawn & Thanou
January 26 and 27
If we really want to help children get a better education, we not only have to help the teachers with resources and capacity building, but we also need to understand the environment and culture the children live in since it has such a huge impact on their level of learning. This does not happen quickly or easily, because it means connecting on a deeper level with the community--many, many hours of just sitting and listening to people, and of course winning people's trust. Thanou and I have made a daily effort to meet and talk with the people who live in Muong Khong, so we can begin getting closer to understanding what will really help the people here.Health Issues
Something that has a huge impact on children's ability to learn here is that they are often sick. Almost every child we got to know had a continuous string of stomach problems, especially constant diarrhea. As well as the usual bacteria-related issues, there are two very serious parasite problems that exist here along the Mekhong. One is liver flukes, which comes from eating uncooked fish. This can cause long-term liver damage. The other is a parasite that lives in snails in the Mekhong. It burrows into the skin then causes extensive damage to blood vessels over the long term. If not treated it can lead to death. Many people have this but it takes years before the real symptoms appear and by then it can be too late. If left to long the only solution is surgery, which most people simply cannot afford and may not survive anyway. Children can catch it by swimming in the Mekhong and also by walking around with bare feet (it's spread through fecal matter, and since so many people have it and there are few toilets, it is a real problem). This is why it was so important for us to build proper washroom facilities with running water for the children to wash their hands (and feet). Another issue we have recently learned about is cultural, and it is something we plan to work on. Children mostly eat only noodles and meat, because it's believed that vegetables are not good for them until they are older. We hope to create an education campaign that will teach parents the benefits of encouraging vegetables.
The Old Woman's New Outhouse
While walking around the community, we met a lady who was over 80 years old who had been given the materials to build an outhouse next to her home by the government--this is in response to the above-mentioned parasite problem. Unfortunately she didn’t have the strength to dig it and her husband was in the hospital in Pakse. Her body is tiny (around 4”4) and skeletal. She explained that she hadn’t been well, so we gave her some Vitamin B12 (something often lacking in elderly diets here). We helped start the digging then did our best to inspire the neighbour’s children to help her continue the work...and they did!
The Blind Man Who Had Given Up On Life
We also met a diabetic man in his 50s who is blind because of his illness. Part of this is likely diet related, since people here eat a lot of sticky rice, then sleep after they eat, so the starch turns to sugar. Diabetes is a big problem here. Also some older people are quite inactive. He was very depressed and had basically given up on life, since everyone had said only negative things to him and he had already lost most of his eyesight. He was starting to lose sensation in his fingers. We explained that he could improve his health by simply exercising twice a day, especially after eating, and watching his diet (less sticky rice, more vegetables and fish), and also by staying positive and not giving up on life. After that we came to visit him every day to see how he was doing. We found that he actually acted on our advice, and was exercising and more engaged in life as the days went by. When we first met him he had been slumped all day on a bed outside of his house, feeling down about his situation. It’s amazing how much you can help people with just a few positive words. Of course we aren’t doctors, but exercise and a positive attitude never hurt anyone as far as we know!
The Woman Who Wore Her Life Beneath Her Sleeves
Another woman we met was almost 90—tiny and frail, she insisted on showing us the many veins and wrinkles on her arms that attested to her long hard life. She had 12 children, she told us, and spent many years weaving fabric to make her own clothes (there was no such thing as buying clothes, she said). Unfortunately her memory was going and she often repeated herself, so we were unable to learn more. She lived with her daughter and son-in-law and their children, all of whom were laughing and running around in old, oversized clothes. They were very poor, living in a bamboo hut with no running water or toilet. The children were building a fire outside. But what I remember most is the gratitude that burned in her eyes when we told her we wanted to learn more about her history and the history of the island. She was so happy that we cared. She insisted on giving us blessings, tying spirit strings on our hands (a local custom), which are given with wishes of goodwill (may you be happy and healthy, etc.).
There are many more stories, but the important thing is that we are learning to connect with people in the community, to understand and respect them, to learn from them and use everything we learn to help inform the direction of our projects. We hope this will save us from making many of the mistakes that are unfortunately common in development work—where assumptions are made about helping, and the end result is not all that helpful or sustainable (we have already learned of a number of examples right here in Laos, and we hope to learn from their mistakes).
Monday, January 29, 2007
The Surprising Life of a Fence
Building a fence, we have learned, is the perfect way to learn about the intricacies of a culture and also of working in a developing country where resources are not always available. It’s also an education into just how much work goes into building something as basic as a fence. Finally, it taught us to trust that as long as we keep persevering and working with the stakeholders and the community, everything will work out in the end.
Day 1: We got off to great start. The contractor showed up early and started work on building the four concrete posts that would make up the corners of the fence. This is actually quite an undertaking, requiring two men to bend and cut (using the most basic of tools) the rebar wires that provide tension strength for the posts. But then there was no sand available left on the island to make the concrete, it had to be brought over from the mainland, so work stopped for the day.
Day 2: Still no sand. Also, we need 75 solid wood fence posts, considered quite a lot on this island—hence they are being gathered from around the island and beyond. But good news! We have been told that we should have 40 people coming from the community to help build the fence. Also, the parent-teacher association will cook lunch for everyone. This is excellent news because it’s important to create a feeling of ownership of the school within the community so they will continue to support it on their own.
Day 3: The sand arrived! We ended up with quite an interesting work crew--the contractor and his son along with the principal’s family (including three young children), and some of the neighbourhood kids. Thanou also pitched in, mixing sand and concrete. It was mixed on a flat section of the ground, looking very much like they were making dough for a giant loaf of bread. Even the youngest children (around 4 or 5) took turns mixing the ingredients.
Bonus: A Staircase for the School
Fortunately, there were some bricks left over from the building of the outhouse, so they started by building a small staircase for the school (the school was built with money donated from another organization, but it ran out, so it was never finished). Now the kindergarten children won’t have to wriggle onto the concrete platform on their stomachs just to get to class—they can walk up the stairs!
Next, all of the posts were successfully poured into the wood “forms” (wood boxes that shape the concrete). In order to create strong cement you need to have a “continuous pour,” so we had line up a bunch of buckets (transported via a wood wheelbarrow) and quickly dump them in one after the other. Also important is to keep the cement moist—the slower it dries, the stronger the cement, so the contractor will keep wetting it down for the next day or so. The wood posts still have not arrived.
Day 4: Free day! Attended an island fair rumoured to have been paid for a foreign Laotian, complete with song and dance performances and one children’s ride (a merry go round, powered by a man standing in the middle pushing it). The whole island showed up, many having walked 10 kilometres or more with seniors and children. They weren’t disappointed; everyone had fun, socializing, watching the show and eating local treats (fruit, rice crackers, boiled peanuts and corn, and various meat-on-sticks). I was the only foreigner in a crowd of about 4,000 people, so I got plenty of attention, especially when I started dancing to the music.
Day 5: This was supposed to be the fence building day, but it didn’t happen. The posts had not arrived, which was just as well since the mayor had asked that we push it a day forward -- many people could make it on that day.
Day 6: Fence building day! We arrived at 8 am to find women cooking, but no one else. The men started arriving at 9, and an hour later we had 21 people. The funny thing was that they had been told to bring either a hammer or a shovel, so you can guess how many people brought shovels—none! So we had to scramble to find shovels to dig the 75 post holes—which had to be 30 cm deep. Also, the men demanded that we buy them a bottle of Lao Lao (local whiskey) to pass around (an investment of only $1). This, we were told, was a community work event and they always drank ceremoniously together during such events. Though I must admit I had some reservations, we felt it was best to comply—it’s not a good idea to mess with cultural norms, especially when people are working for free.
The next challenge was that the men were not thrilled with me videoing and photographing them while they worked, saying they felt like they were back to working under the French (who occupied
One thing we learned was something the Lao people have known for a long time—that it’s always best to work together to accomplish anything. The first two sections (approximately 36 metres each) were completed by 11:30 and we found we had leftover materials to do a third side (which we originally thought would be too expensive). All three sides were completed by 1 pm. Then the women rolled out a mat and spread out various Lao specialty dishes (beef stew, laap and papaya salad) for the men to share. It was my job to walk down the line and offer each man a shot of Lao Lao, as part of the completion ceremony. Then we sat with them and ate—the women had kindly prepared vegetarian dishes for us (eggs and water spinach).
Conclusion: So as you can see, you can learn a lot from just building a fence. We are humbled every day by the things we learn here, and we are working hard to integrate all this knowledge in such a way that the children and community can reap the benefits.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
We’re finally in Muang Khong! Here’s an update:
The teachers enjoyed their second (half day) of training and we had a meeting with the leadership at the school to learn how we could build on this new relationship. While visiting this school, we realized that if we really want to make a difference in education for children we have to provide consistent, quality training for the teachers. Just providing resources is not enough. This is especially important when you realize that most kindergarten teachers have only a grade 8 education or less.
So the current plan is to send all 4 teachers back to Vientiane for one full week of training (they will live, eat and teach at the Sunshine School alongside the regular teachers) in July when their school shuts down for a week. Then we’ll have teachers from the Sunshine School come down to visit the kindergarten here in Muang Khong to provide support and see how they’re doing. So essentially we’re creating a partnership between one of Vientiane’s most progressive schools (many of the city’s elite send their children there) with our school, which, as you know, serves mostly poor children with little hope for higher education (as it stands right now—hopefully we can change that). After this, we would like to turn the Muang Khong school into a model kindergarten school for surrounding villages to come to learn from them. Very exciting stuff!
Muang Khong: The School’s Progress
We drove south in a rented van, arriving after dark at the ferry station. The driver didn’t want to come over on the ferry as he had to go to Pakse, so we bundled all of our supplies, plus the teachers and ourselves, into a longboat, crossing the Mekong River with nothing but starlight to guide us. It was a bit like a scene from a movie, but we were happy to be dropped off right in front of our guesthouse (though we did have to carry the supplies up a steep riverbank). Welcome to the island of Muang Khong!
The next morning we had our first look at the washroom facility we built. We were impressed with the utility and workmanship—it’s right next to the kindergarten and has a huge wash basin where teachers can help wash the smaller children, and both toilets have water taps where children can wash their hands. Most importantly the children are using it, and they love it! So they should be much healthier now. Also, the children were moved into a new 2-room cement block school as the old school (a wood shack) was taken over by a nearby primary school. This school was built through the government by an NGO, but it was never finished as the money ran out (a common problem in developing countries, which is why we are handling the contract work ourselves). For this reason we are paying for paint for the outside walls and floor mats (the floors are dusty, uneven cement—bad for small children).
Also, we’re building a fence around the school to keep the children safely inside (they sometimes try to go home on their own, and primary school students come to tease them) and to keep the water buffalo out (so we can build a garden to create a food program and plant some fruit trees). We also need to build some cement steps since the previous builders didn’t get that far, and fix the locks on the school. So there’s still a lot to do, but it was great to see all the alphabet posters go up on the walls (in both English and Lao) and various other things in the classroom, such as the new chalk board, folding tables and stackable chairs (which they chose over wood due to a lack of space), and other educational items. It actually looks like a place of learning now!
A Welcoming Celebration
The principal organized a small ceremony formally recognizing Jai Dee Children’s Fund’s contribution to the kindergarten school. Jai Dee also presented the school supplies brought from Canada and purchased in Laos. Four officials attended and delivered speeches of gratitude. Also our third director, Greg Mackenzie, arrived in time to attend the event, so all our directors were there! The children charmed us with three adorable performances of Lao dancing (with a few modern moves thrown in) and had a great time eating the local cakes and cookies we provided. It was truly a magic day for all.
A Student’s House
Today we went to visit one student’s house. Her name in New-ning and she is around 5 years old (her parents don't have a birth certificate and birthdays aren't celebrated here so no one is sure exactly how old she is). She lives in an open bamboo shack, with her parents and seven brothers and sisters (the eldest is 21, and the youngest are twins, aged three months). It was heartbreaking to see the twins in small homemade hammocks, with no running water for bathing and no actual walls to protect them from the elements. The mother is 36, my age. She talked about how hard it is to feed her children (her husband works odd jobs for a dollar or two per day, when he can find work).
While rocking her babies to sleep in their hammocks she looked out through the gaps in her bamboo walls. “I will fight on,” she said, shaking her head, as though wondering exactly how she would manage. We gave her some (of our own) money to meet the baby’s needs, but the only thing that can really help is if their children can get an education—then they can support their parents as well as themselves. Tomorrow we will go back to film a video of a day in this student’s life so we can share it with all of you, and you can feel what inspires us to work so hard for these children.
Right now we're in Pakse, where we finally have real internet access (it's impossible to post on the blog in Muang Khong as the server is too slow). We were supposed to meet with a local charity that works with schools but the timing didn't work out for them (they're in the field). So hopefully another day. We also changed some money to pay for the new fence for the school, which we hope to have up before we leave. On a more casual note, it's hot, hot, hot here!! Really hot. Hard to believe that it actually gets hotter in another month. But guess we can't complain since it's about -20 in our hometown of Toronto, Canada. That's all the news for now!
Shawn & Thanou
Sunday, January 7, 2007
We still have many things to work on together--such as creating a fence around the school to protect the small children and allow them to grow fruit trees and other things (right now the wandering water buffalo would eat them!). Tomorrow we will be leaving at 6:30 am to go to the Sunshine School. We may have a meeting on Tuesday with another person running a charity here, but will have to see how the timing goes. For now...must get to sleep! It's a full day tomorrow!
Shawn & Thanou
Friday, January 5, 2007
We also met with Rassanikone Nanong who trains village women in advanced silk weaving, then sells the resulting products around the world. The women are paid higher wages than regular weavers, and there is an environmental focus—all the dyes used are naturally sourced from roots, bark, etc. She won a United Nations award for her work. We met with her to discuss the possibility of selling the scarves in Canada to help raise money for the charity. This way we are helping the local women to build on a marketable trade and also helping the children at the same time (and providing our supporters with stunningly beautiful silk scarves at below retail prices!). For now, we only bought a few scarves to see how it goes. These scarves are made of the highest quality silk and the weaving is intricate. All woven silk scarves made in Laos take about one week to complete on a hand loom.
Finally, we spoke with the kindergarten director, Jok, at the Sunshine School, where we will be doing capacity development training with the teachers and everything is arranged. We have a full schedule running from 8 am till 4 pm on Monday and Tuesday, visiting classrooms and meeting with teachers and administrators. The teachers will arrive in town this Sunday evening. Also we have rented the van and driver that will take us (and the school supplies) down to Muang Khong on Wednesday (we’ll be leaving at 4 am!).
All is on track and we look forward to bringing you more exciting updates in the days to come!
Shawn & Thanou