The point is sustainability, community development, empowerment, and real change. These are all really fancy buzz words thrown around by the global health community, among others. But what does it look like?
I've come to the point in my life where I'm realizing that I am capable of doing/changing/acting on these things I've learned about, agreed on, and even taught others about. I'm at the point where I have no excuse to not tithe. When I choose to drive to work instead of ride my bike, it really is me choosing to "exempt" myself from saving the planet or our oil supplies that day. (If I'm generous, about 1 in 5 of those trips are actually justified).
So the same thing should be applied to my work and goals for contributing to sustainable development. I strongly believe in the idea of "teaching a man to fish" over "giving a fish." Hopefully my work with the curriculum in Rwanda is contributing to that style of aid. But I still wonder if we aren't coming in as the Westerners who know everything and are going to tell "them" how to change their systems. At this point in the game, we are trying to get the process rolling to transfer ownership of the program to our partners in-country. Keep praying that we will communicate clearly, listen well, and that they would be enthusiastic to train the people who will most help the hospitals (not just engineers who want the prestige and a cushy desk job).
On the other side, we are preparing for another summer with our students in Tanzania and Central America. This will be my second year taking a group of students, and my third visit to the Kilimanjaro region. When I start thinking about sustainability with this program, I come up with two questions:
At least that is the goal.
Watching my students figure out what is really going on, as opposed to what we think we know is going on, is incredible. It changes them in the same way it changed me. The truth isn't always pretty, but the truth has the power to change us (okay divinity students: go!).
And since these are students from a population (engineers) that is rather underrepresented, they each can make a big difference. Even if they never set foot in a developing country again, they will bring a new understanding with them to their homes, schools, jobs, and colleagues. You get the picture.
But what about encouraging the biomedical industry in the region? One of our major shortcomings in this respect was brought to my attention last year, as we were winding down the program.
You see, there is already a biomedical workshop in the region. This biomedical workshop services many of our hospitals already, and does really good work. In fact, we call them when we can't solve a problem.
The problem is, our services are free and this workshop needs to charge for services in order to be a viable business. But the hospitals know that we are coming back. And they know that the workshop will fix something, bill them, and can't do much about non-payment.
It's a catch-22. Patients need to be treated, and much of the equipment is absolutely vital to their treatment. Yet any long term solutions have to involve some sort of exchange and this local workshop. This is also my biggest fear with training technicians: who will pay them to do their work?
This question is really a little too big for me, so I'm going to leave it at that for now.
This will be my third trip to Tanzania, and I'm tired of moving around each month.
<-- 2009
Same village, same kids, and I still don't know her name...
2010 -->
I'd like to actually live there instead of visiting for a few short weeks. I'd like to really learn the language and get to know my neighbors.
But then, I'd also like to go somewhere new. And I miss my family and community here in the States (which state that is, is another question).
And do I want to keep doing this kind of work, that tends to be largely cerebral and managerial? Or do I want to be hands on in the machines every day? Or perhaps holding babies and wiping snotty noses every day?
But mostly, I'm tired of moving around so much. I want to settle there and belong instead of continually being the outsider. And if I'm going to be the outsider, then I might as well go somewhere I haven't seen before and where I don't intimately know the potholes to avoid. I want to go somewhere the animals' noises still surprise me, and where the smells are foreign and not easily traceable back to a particular dish or particular dump. Or maybe I do want that kind of familiarity.
And that is the problem, my friends.
I've come to the point in my life where I'm realizing that I am capable of doing/changing/acting on these things I've learned about, agreed on, and even taught others about. I'm at the point where I have no excuse to not tithe. When I choose to drive to work instead of ride my bike, it really is me choosing to "exempt" myself from saving the planet or our oil supplies that day. (If I'm generous, about 1 in 5 of those trips are actually justified).
So the same thing should be applied to my work and goals for contributing to sustainable development. I strongly believe in the idea of "teaching a man to fish" over "giving a fish." Hopefully my work with the curriculum in Rwanda is contributing to that style of aid. But I still wonder if we aren't coming in as the Westerners who know everything and are going to tell "them" how to change their systems. At this point in the game, we are trying to get the process rolling to transfer ownership of the program to our partners in-country. Keep praying that we will communicate clearly, listen well, and that they would be enthusiastic to train the people who will most help the hospitals (not just engineers who want the prestige and a cushy desk job).
On the other side, we are preparing for another summer with our students in Tanzania and Central America. This will be my second year taking a group of students, and my third visit to the Kilimanjaro region. When I start thinking about sustainability with this program, I come up with two questions:
1) How is this program contributing to forward movement and development of better health care for the patients in that region? And how do we encourage (instead of hinder) the development of individuals and organizations who address health care technology year-round?
2) What is sustainable for me, personally?
Jibu ya Kwanza(1): (Because I miss Kiswahili, too)
I can answer part of the sustainability thing, and the answer is YES! The main point, that many of us miss sometimes, is to expose and educate more people about the problems that exist and some of our ideas about solutions. Smart people. Engineering type people. Change the world type people. At least that is the goal.
Watching my students figure out what is really going on, as opposed to what we think we know is going on, is incredible. It changes them in the same way it changed me. The truth isn't always pretty, but the truth has the power to change us (okay divinity students: go!).
And since these are students from a population (engineers) that is rather underrepresented, they each can make a big difference. Even if they never set foot in a developing country again, they will bring a new understanding with them to their homes, schools, jobs, and colleagues. You get the picture.
But what about encouraging the biomedical industry in the region? One of our major shortcomings in this respect was brought to my attention last year, as we were winding down the program.
You see, there is already a biomedical workshop in the region. This biomedical workshop services many of our hospitals already, and does really good work. In fact, we call them when we can't solve a problem.
The problem is, our services are free and this workshop needs to charge for services in order to be a viable business. But the hospitals know that we are coming back. And they know that the workshop will fix something, bill them, and can't do much about non-payment.
It's a catch-22. Patients need to be treated, and much of the equipment is absolutely vital to their treatment. Yet any long term solutions have to involve some sort of exchange and this local workshop. This is also my biggest fear with training technicians: who will pay them to do their work?
This question is really a little too big for me, so I'm going to leave it at that for now.
Jibu ya Pili(2):
Sustainability for me... The question isn't "what do I want to be when I grow up?" anymore as much as it is "what do I want to be doing with my life right now?" I'm fortunate in that I'm getting to do things with my life right now that I want to be doing, find meaningful, and see potential in. But sometimes I get tired of all the travel. Well... all the short travel.This will be my third trip to Tanzania, and I'm tired of moving around each month.
<-- 2009
Same village, same kids, and I still don't know her name...
2010 -->
I'd like to actually live there instead of visiting for a few short weeks. I'd like to really learn the language and get to know my neighbors.
But then, I'd also like to go somewhere new. And I miss my family and community here in the States (which state that is, is another question).
And do I want to keep doing this kind of work, that tends to be largely cerebral and managerial? Or do I want to be hands on in the machines every day? Or perhaps holding babies and wiping snotty noses every day?
But mostly, I'm tired of moving around so much. I want to settle there and belong instead of continually being the outsider. And if I'm going to be the outsider, then I might as well go somewhere I haven't seen before and where I don't intimately know the potholes to avoid. I want to go somewhere the animals' noises still surprise me, and where the smells are foreign and not easily traceable back to a particular dish or particular dump. Or maybe I do want that kind of familiarity.
And that is the problem, my friends.