A Swiss man, looking for directions, pulls up at a bus stop where two Americans are waiting. “Entshuldigung, können Sie Deutsch sprechen?” he asks. The two Americans just stare at him. “Excusez-moi, parlez vous Francais?” he tries. The two continue to stare. “Parlare Italiano?” No response. “¿Hablan ustedes Español?” Still nothing. The Swiss guy drives off, extremely disgusted. The first American turns to the second and says, “Y’know, maybe we should learn a foreign language.” “Why,” says the other, “That guy knew four languages, and it didn’t do him any good.”

The butt end of a Joke

I’m writing this in rural Mali, where I’ve been working and traveling the past two weeks. I tried making my way up to Timbuktu after the work was finished, but there’s a bunch of mercenaries who’ve been run out of Libya up there with guns and money. I’ve been advised not to go with the reasoning being that a) they were on the wrong side of an American supported revolution and I’m American, and b) when the money runs out, they may start looking for new sources – i.e. kidnapping foreigners like me. (see update note #1)

Dogon Houses in Mali

Still, I’ve been able to see some amazing places (Dogon Country, Djenne, etc.) and to meet great people. But, I am acutely aware of being a foreigner here. Not only because there aren’t many white people here at the moment, but also because I don’t speak any of the main locally-spoken languages, including the colonial one: French. I speak just enough of this to greet people and then tell them in French that I don’t actually speak it. They think this is pretty funny. If they happen to speak a bit of English, I tell them this joke:

• What do you call someone who can speak three languages?
• They say, “I don’t know”
• A trilinguist.

(If they don’t speak English very well, we stumble around this for a few minutes until they understand what I’m saying and then, after a while, realize that it’s not the punch line and swallow their fake nervous laugh.)

• What do you call someone who can speak two languages?
• They get this one right: “a bilinguist?”
• Yes, and what do you call someone who can speak just one language?
• “…um, I don’t know.”
• An American!

Pause…wait for it…riotous laughter! Backslapping, broken ice, best friends, and free beer! A good joke can go a long way, especially when you’re essentially the butt of it.

My travel schedule for work this year has put me into over a dozen countries on six continents. If it weren’t for the amazing English language skills of local people, my work would pretty much be dead in the water in most of these places. My multilingual colleagues and translators allow me to utilize my skills in places where I would otherwise be unable to ask for a glass of water or place to poop.

Whereas in many places in the world, children grow up speaking 2-3 languages out of the starting blocks, I didn’t begin to learn a second language until high school. I learned German – und Ich habe fast alles vergessen – which came in handy as an exchange student, but for lack of use has all but disappeared from my linguistic tool box. I took up Spanish as an undergraduate, which proved more useful when courting my Bolivian girlfriend (now wife), although there were plenty of mistakes along the way, like forgetting that “to like” is a reflexive verb. The first time I tried to express how I was feeling, I ended up announcing to her great annoyance, “you like me, you like me a lot“.

I’m fluent now, which is nice because I can communicate directly with an additional 400 million people on this planet. “¿Me podrías dar un vaso de agua por favor? y ¿Donde esta el baño?” See, pretty damn useful.

When the butt makes an effort

I’m doing my best to learn French now. Actually, that’ a lie. I put a copy of Rosetta Stone French on my computer, so my pocket book is doing its best, but I’ve been too busy or lazy to really prioritize it, which has positioned me well to both entertain and offend when working in places like West Africa.

We expats and world travelers all have lots of really funny anecdotes of our language faux pas – being asked if married and replying “a little bit, but I should be better by morning” (confusing casado – married with cansado – tired), announcing we’re quite pregnant following last night’s drinking binge (confusing embarrasado – pregnant for vergonzado – embarrassed). These things happen. It’s dreadfully embarrassing in the best sort of way; it leaves you more humble but without lasting emotional scars – so long as you can laugh at yourself.

But, given the fact that most of us English speakers can find good translators in the countries we visit or live in for work, and given that it does kind of suck to announce your a pregnant man recovering from marriage when you’re trying to come off as a seasoned humanitarian professional, why should we even bother. After all, “that guy knew four languages, and it didn’t do him any good.”

Because language is a bit like food. People just love it when you make an effort to eat their food. I was in some remote village once in the middle of …where was that…Uganda? Chad? Any way, I was talking with some community volunteers who were recalling the last time they had an American visit their village from World Vision. “Hey, do you know so-n-so?” they asked me, a bit naïve to the size of my organization. But, in fact I did know this person. “He’s such a great guy!” they exuded. “Why do you say that?” I asked, curious. “He ate everything we gave him,” one exclaimed. And the rest all nodded vigorously and happily at this. “Do you know who this man was?” I asked, pressing the point a bit. They recalled that he was an American and from World Vision and again applauded his culinary enthusiasm. What they didn’t recall about this person was that he was the International President of World Vision.

What left a lasting impression on these folks was not the man’s position, but his willingness to lift his fork and dive into their culture. He embraced part of what defined them without hesitation or judgment. He received from them without turning up his nose at what they had to offer.

"Oh, hell no!" I'm neither that culturally sensitive nor that drunk.

I’ve got a rule when I travel – I eat or drink whatever is given to me by the communities I visit. I know that sometimes this will make me sick, but that’s a price I’m willing to pay. (I’ll spare you the details of my 12 hour bus ride yesterday from Djenne to Bamako.) There is no faster way to connect with people and build a small platform of trust than to share a meal – their meal – together. I have yet to break my rule in hundreds of towns and villages in over 30 countries – and I’ve put things in my mouth that would make Andrew Zimmern proud. Now granted, nobody offered me Balut last month when I was in SE Asia – a fertilized duck embryo that is boiled alive and eaten in the shell – that may have pushed the limits of my commitment to this rule.

Language is a bit like this. A willingness to learn and use even a few words demonstrates a willingness to be vulnerable and to make an effort to accept and use what is local. It recognizes that you are the visitor and honors your host.*

I once had to deliver the results of a month-long audit to a group of several hundred local workers in an East African NGO office. For reasons I can’t share, the future of this office was being staked on these results. The tension that had been building over the course of the month had reached an unbearable limit. The moment had come to find out whether they’d all be out of job or not. I rose from my chair and delivered a paragraph’s worth of good news in Swahili.

I had spent about 30 minutes practicing saying it with my translator so that it would sound just right. It just seemed proper for me to deliver such a verdict in their language, rather than mine. Several came up to me afterwards and confirmed that it had been a meaningful gesture.

Now, I know that I can’t learn much more than a handful of words in the local language in most places I go, and usually these are the ones that people take pleasure in teaching me – I can say at least one dirty word in over a dozen languages. It may take me another few years to speak French with any confidence, and I recognize that this will be my third colonial language, which allows one to communicate with a large portion of the World, but for most communities it’s still not really their language. Even so, I will continue to make an effort to embrace that which is local, be it food or language, if only to remind myself that I am the guest, that my language and food and culture are just ones among thousands of similar inherent value.

Update Note #1.

Since writing this, some friends that I made in Mali were in fact kidnapped in Timbuktu. I had been invited to join them, but explained that I had gotten some clear warnings from the WV Mali security team in Bamako. They decided to push ahead anyway, which is a totally valid decision – I probably would have joined them as well, but I actually had more fear of my wife finding out I had gone despite such clear warnings than I had of actually getting kidnapped. I stayed up to about 1:30 one morning with one of them, whose name I cannot share for the sake of his safety. He is described in the second article linked below – it is his wife who is now devastated. We talked about his life, his family, and plans for the future. I gave him a book I had finished reading. He and the others are good folks who took a risk to see the world and meet new people. They ended up being in the wrong place and the wrong time. Please keep them and their families in your prayers.

Mali kidnapping: One dead and three seized in Timbuktu – BBC

Mali kidnap: wife devastated

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*Except the French, of course. It really pisses them off for some reason when you can’t speak flawless French. But at least they’re consistent – they really don’t want us eating their food either. You can tell because they put frog legs and snails on your plate and say “bon a petit” with what seems like slight irony to me. … Wait, was that culturally insensitive? (I’m kidding!)

LinkedIn, the world’s largest professional network released the results this morning* of a survey of nearly two thousand professionals in the U.S. and found that 89% have volunteering experience, but only 45% include this on their resumes. This is a mistake according to Nicole Williams, LinkedIn’s Connection Director. ”Professionals often have the misconception that volunteer work doesn’t qualify as ‘real’ work experience“. But, 41% of the surveyed professionals stated that when they are evaluating candidates, they consider volunteer work equally as valuable as paid work experience. In fact, 20% of the hiring managers surveyed agree they have made a hiring decision based on a candidate’s volunteer work experience. According to Williams**,

“Given the current economic climate and the hyper competitive job market, it’s essential to include your volunteer work on your profile. Even if you’re currently unemployed, you can still actively volunteer and begin to accrue new skill sets. When hiring managers or business partners are comparing two people side by side, volunteer experience makes you a more multifaceted professional and can set you apart from competition.”

Volunteering is Good for Your Career

Again, according to Williams, there are at least four ways that volunteering can be good for your career.

Helping others counts – All that time you spent raising record amounts of money, the year-end event you planned to perfection all felt like real work and…it was. New research from LinkedIn shows that one out of every five hiring managers in the U.S. agree they have hired a candidate because of their volunteer work experience. Your volunteer experience counts and if you don’t include it in your profile, on your resume and as a discussion point during an interview or when you’re negotiating for a promotion you’re not getting the credit you deserve.

You Never Know Who You’re Going to Meet – The majority of career enhancing opportunities come through relationships and volunteering exposes you to people you wouldn’t encounter otherwise.  And get this: volunteer relationships are particularly beneficial in that folks you interact with while volunteering are usually driven, conscientious professionals who can be a referral. Volunteering offers a whole new world of qualified and valuable connections.

Test-Drive Your Passion – A truism of career success is that passion correlates with talent and talent translates to reward (both financial and emotional).  One of the safest ways of test-driving your passion as a career is to volunteer your talents.  Not only do you get to try your hand at a repertoire of new skills and experiences in a low-risk forum, but you’ll also be showcasing these talents to a whole host of peers who may just happen to have the connections you need to get hired.

Get Noticed / Motivated  – The most successful people in the world dedicate their efforts to a cause that extends beyond themselves and your boss and / or hiring manager are well aware of this. In this hypercompetitive world of work where we all need to differentiate ourselves, volunteering not only provides you the opportunity to showcase your talents and experiences, but it also allows you to demonstrate compassion and commitment.

Now You Can Make it Part of Your Profile

LinkedIn also announced today that members can add a ‘Volunteer Experience & Causes’ field to their profile. To add the “Volunteer Experience & Causes” field to your LinkedIn Profile:

• After logging in, click “Profile” at the top of LinkedIn.
• Click the “Add Sections” hyperlink.
• Select “Volunteer Experience & Causes.”
• Click the “Add to Profile” button and then fill out the applicable fields.

Here’s what the new section looks like on my profile: Aaron Ausland

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* I am timing this blog post to coincide with the official press release of this information from LinkedIn, who was kind enough to share their results with me last week as a blogger who occasionally writes about volunteerism. To see more posts related to this topic, select “Volunteerism” or “Voluntourism” from the Categories drop box on in the right-hand column.

** Nicole Williams is also a best-selling author of Girl On Top: Turning Dating Rules into Career Success.

Although I wasn’t part of the group that designed this survey, I’ll likely benefit from seeing the results, so I’m posting a link to the survey HERE. If you have 5 minutes to spare, would you kindly take the survey? All responses are anonymous.

If you also have an aid or development focused blog, please share the link on your blog too.

Thanks very much!

7% could comprehend? Wish we could.

Graphs and charts need to be able to tell the story of the data. They should be able to stand on their own, summarizing the key point without forcing the reader to dig through the text or data table to understand the message. This one fails in this regard.

I’m not going to expand much on my views about what makes a good visualization of data – that’s been done too well by others, most notably Edward Tufte. I just thought it would be fun to share with you every now and then an incomprehensible visualization or explanation of data. I run across them in many places. I clipped this one from the leading national newspaper in Uganda last week.

I welcome any submissions you wish to make.

Update Sept 5. I’ve already received a few good…er, bad graphs from readers. I’ll collect the worst of these together in a few weeks and make another post. Maybe a new blog is the works here: we could call it “Graphic Failure”, “The Quant Nerd Fail Blog”, “Dada Data” or simply “Could Not”.

The Volunteer Life-cycle

This morning I was reading the just published Volunteering in America 2011 Research Highlights, and they were talking about this very topic – Generation X and its volunteering rates. Like me, they celebrate the  increased rate of volunteerism among members of my generation.

“Once stereotyped as skeptical and disengaged, Generation X is showing signs of optimism that they can make a difference in their communities through service as they become more connected to local networks through their careers and their children. Gen X members have more than doubled their volunteer rate between 1989 and the present day.”

I'm just now peaking in my volunteer life-cycle, so be nice.

They didn’t stop there, though. They went a bit deeper and brought up the “volunteer life-cycle”. The graph below, taken from this report, shows that volunteerism rates are higher in the teen years than in early adulthood, then they start to pick up in the early twenties and peak in the middle age (35-44 year olds), then they drop off again as age increases. So, it should be no surprise then that Generation X (people aged 30-46) are increasing their rates of volunteerism over other generations that are in a declining stage of the volunteer life-cycle.

To really be the “heroes of American volunteerism” as I claimed yesterday, the Gen Xers would have to show that they’ve somehow ridden their volunteer life-cycle better than the other generations. Let’s look at the data. Now, the graph is actually not very intuitive to read, and the data doesn’t really go back far enough to be super useful, but I’ll walk you through what I read in this. Back in 1989 (the red line), when I was 16, others about my age were volunteering less than people did when they were 16 in surveys taken before and since. Thus the whole “skeptical and disengaged” reputation we acquired about that time when the term “Generation X” was first popularly used to describe my generation. (Douglas Coupland’s seminal book Generation X was published in 1991.)

So, my generation started with a volunteerism rate much lower than other generations. What has happened since? Fast forward to 2010 (the light blue line). Now members of Gen X are between 30- and 46-years old. We’re no longer the cohort on the bottom at this age. The lowest line for this age range is still red, representing those that were of this age back in 1989. This would be tail end of the Baby Boomers. (Did mention that this graph is not very intuitive for what we are trying to read from it?)

Conclusion

So, when we take just a snap-shot of the present (the graph from my previous post), Gen X looks awesome, the only generation increasing their rates of volunteerism. But when we take into account the “volunteer life-cycle”, we see that every generation goes through the same pattern, it’s just our turn to be peaking because we’ve reached that certain stage in our life when all generations volunteer the most. When you compare the trajectory that we’ve taken with other generations, the most striking element is the low starting point of our generation – the disengaged slackers that we once were. But, also striking is what we’ve done since. We have, in essence, redeemed ourselves, volunteering in our middle age at rates similar to other generational cohorts, even more so than the Baby Boomers did when they were our age.

So, maybe we aren’t the heroes as I claimed earlier, but maybe we are. Yeh, we started off as slackers, but we pulled out of it, learned how to hope, and got engaged. That sounds pretty heroic to me.

We know that people volunteer when they have both the heart for it and the resources for it, but which resource is more important, time or money? I would have thought that time would be the critical resource. This feels like the case for me anyway – the limiting factor on how much volunteering I can do tends to be busyness. But, then again, I’ve mostly been gainfully employed when not a full-time student or a full-time volunteer. But here’s some interesting data that has me thinking today.

According to the Bureau of Labor Statistics the current US unemployment rate is around 9.1%. But we know this figure is a pretty flawed measure for a number of reasons I won’t get into here. The statistic I like to follow is the civilian labor force participation rate, which stands now at about 63.9%. This is a measure of everyone of working age that is either actively employed or seeking employment. It doesn’t include students, retired people, stay-at-home parents, people in prisons, informal workers, or people who have given up looking for work. So, this means that about 36% of the working age population is currently not working or looking for work. This isn’t to say that these people aren’t busy – but perhaps they are less busy than those working full-time. So, since this figure is at currently as low as its been in the past 30-years (because the participation rate is near a 30-year low), one might think that working-age Americans have more time on their hands than usual.

So, given that (1) there are a lot of Americans suffering in the current economy (2) both State and Federal governments are pulling back resources from social programs, and (3) it would appear that Americans have more time than usual to volunteer, should we expect to see rates of volunteerism up? Let’s look at the data.

According to Volunteering In America, the number of volunteers nationwide dropped last year by 600,000 to 62.8 million. The national volunteer rate now stands at 26.3%. We can compare that to 28.8% from 2003 to 2005. In other terms, there are over 2.5 million fewer Americans volunteering today than just six years ago.  What’s going on? Do people volunteer less when they are unemployed?

Again, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics, they don’t. In a report released earlier this year, between 2006 and 2010, employed people volunteered at a rate 6-7 percentage points more than unemployed people. So, we shouldn’t be too surprised then when we see rates of volunteerism falling as unemployment rates increase.

Generation X – the heroes of volunteerism in America?

Now, just for fun, I wonder what the picture looks like when we look at volunteerism rates by age group.  As expected, the rates of volunteerism among retired people are stunningly stable over the past decade. But if we look at who is volunteering less among the working-age population, the picture is really quite interesting.

The baby boomers, approaching retirement are volunteering less. The Millennials, striving to establish themselves in the workforce, are volunteering less. But, we of Generation X, in the prime of our working years, are volunteering more.

It seems that the Millennials are hit hardest by rising unemployment rates – they have the least experience. It seems the Boomers are also getting it a bit rough as some are induced to an early retirement – they cost the most to keep employed. But the Gen-Xers seem to be losing their jobs at a slightly slower rate than these – again, in the prime of their working years. (I did some playing around with data at MetricMash and these statements seem supportable by the data.)

Now, we know that coupled with higher rates of unemployment, those who do have jobs are working longer hours than ever. Overtime is up among non-exempt workers, and hours are up among exempt workers. So, it would appear that the Gen-Xers are simultaneously working longer hours and volunteering more. Interesting indeed.

UPDATE: August 13.

I’ve had to revise my conclusions on this to take into account the “volunteer life-cycle”. I still think Gen X demonstrates a certain kind of heroism with regards to volunteering in America, but not for the same reason described here. To find out why, click here: “Generation X and Volunteerism – nuancing the “hero” status.“

A pedido voy a publicar de nuevo el articulo Staying for Tea (Quedándose para el Té) como una serie de entradas de blog en seis partes. El artículo fue publicado originalmente en una revista llamada The Global Citizen (El Ciudadano Global). Mientras publico cada sección, las siguientes ligas se activarán: [1:Quedarse para el Té] [2:Importa el Proceso] [3:Enfocarse en los Valores] [4:Chequea tu Filtro] [5:Cultiva un Corazón Sirviente] [6:Conclusión] Click here to read in English

Si todavía no has suscrito al blog, por favor haz un clic ahora en el botón “Sign me up!” para recibir los artículos en tu correo electrónico.

Introducción

Cada año cientos de hombres y mujeres jóvenes comienzan a hacer servicio voluntario comunitario. Miles mas han hecho del desarrollo comunitario una carrera profesional. Si tu eres uno de ellos, este articulo es para ti. Muchos de mis amigos han pasado tiempo haciendo servicio voluntario en comunidades que no eran suyas. Hemos comparado nuestras experiencias y algunas gemas de valor reconocibles se han presentado con notable consistencia. Muchos de nosotros hicimos los mismos errores innecesarios y aprendimos las mismas lecciones. He tratado de extraer estas lecciones y hacer un conjunto de principios para compartir contigo y ayudarte a evitar nuestros errores. Muchos de nosotros hemos concluido en que tener un conjunto de principios para guiar el trabajo de desarrollo comunitario es fundamental. Aunque el conjunto ni es de aplicación universal ni completa, si aun no has desarrollado tu propia, que este te sirva como punto de partida.

Principio #1 Quedarse para el Té

Nuestras vecinas y la única tiende de la aldea

En 1998, yo estaba viviendo con mi fallecida esposa en Bañado de la Cruz como voluntario con el Comité Central Menonita (CCM). Nuestra misión en esta aislada aldea de Bolivia era algo que CCM llamaba “acompañamiento”. A pesar de que tenía un sentido intuitivo de lo que esta palabra significaba, yo no estaba muy seguro de como hacerlo, cómo traducir la misión a los elementos de mi lista de que haceres. CCM no nos permitía generar planes o lanzar nuevos proyectos; simplemente esperaba que nosotros acompañáramos a la comunidad en su proceso endógeno de desarrollo. Pero yo había sido invitado por la comunidad a Bañado, por lo que claramente esperaban algo de mi. Yo tenía que saber algo y hacer algo que contribuyera al bienestar de esta comunidad. Sin embargo, muchos días me despertaba sin saber realmente lo que ese algo era.

En esos días, cuando no había una tarea clara para hacer, muchas veces solo salía por la puerta y caminaba por la única polvorienta calle que atravesaba la aldea. Mientras caminaba, iba encontrando a la gente y nos saludábamos mutuamente. Algunos me invitaban a sentarme con ellos por un rato. A menudo compartimos una tasa de té. Algunas veces hablamos sobre uno de los proyectos en que estuvimos trabajando – de apicultura, de las letrinas secas, o de contabilidad de la cooperativa de agricultores – pero normalmente hablábamos sobre la vida, de donde éramos y donde habíamos estado, sobre nuestras familias, y sobre como Krista y yo estuvimos adaptándonos a la vida en Bañado. Yo tenia que confesar que estuvimos luchando; no estábamos acostumbrados a vivir en una casa de una sola habitación hecha de barro y estuco sin electricidad ni agua potable. Todavía no entendía el idioma ni las costumbres muy bien. Seguía enfermándome y sufriendo pequeños accidentes. Yo ni siquiera sabia como regar mi propia parcela experimental de maíz.

Después de un tiempo, me di cuenta de que algo más estaba pasando mientras tomábamos el té. Mi título y posición estaban erosionado; yo estaba convirtiendo en algo real para ellos. Al mismo tiempo, mi estereotipos simplistas de ellos se estaban desmoronando; ellos se estaban convirtiendo en algo real para mi. Dejé de ser un voluntario de desarrollo comunitario; yo era solo un nuevo vecino, un extraño en aguas profundas tratando de encajar y hacer amigos. Fui socialmente torpe y muy a menudo no muy útil. Dejaron de ser los pobres, los desamparados que necesitan asistencia de afuera. En cambio, los vi como gente fuerte y creativa, cuya resistencia en un lugar difícil exigió mi mas profundo respeto. Mis ojos se abrieron a lo mucho que Krista y yo dependíamos de su generosidad y su amistad. Ellos nos dieron comida de sus tierras, nos enseñaron como lavar ropa en el río y como utilizar plantas nativas par curar nuestros cuerpos, nos invitaron a sus hogares y compartieron su sabiduría tanto como sus locuras. Incluso aprendí como regar adecuadamente.

Mientras tomábamos el té, construimos confianza y nos hicimos vulnerables el uno al otro. Lentamente, me dieron acceso a información privilegiada de la comunidad y de las normas sociales complejas y de la historia que las rigen. Por ejemplo, me enteré quien lanzó la piedra que convirtió a mi vecina con 12 hijos en viuda. Me contaron sobre el comportamiento abusivo de otro vecino, cuyo suegro tuvo que mudarse con ellos para proteger a su hija, y como la comunidad esta dividida en dos clanes que se disputan el poder. Comportamiento misterioso empezó a tener sentido, problemas escondidos salieron a la luz, sueños más grandes y miedos más profundos se dieron a conocer. Me mostraron la topografía social que yo necesitaba navegar para ser relevante y útil para la comunidad. Mi trabajo  ganó fuerza y avanzaba de una manera que dio a la comunidad una razón para estar agradecida por mi presencia allí. Quedándonos para el té nos ayudó a llegar a ser mutuamente endeudados. Yo llamo esto ‘operando al nivel del ojo’ con la comunidad, y ha hecho toda la diferencia en la calidad e impacto de nuestro tiempo juntos. 

No es saludable ni productivo dejarse ser percibido falsamente como un héroe, o percibir a sí mismo como tal. En realidad se puede debilitar a los miembros de la comunidad a través de cultivar una imagen de tener todo en orden y tener todas las respuestas. En realidad, es fácil y tentador abusar de la diferencia de poder con el que pudo haber entrado en la comunidad. Las personas con falsas expectativas de quien eres someterán sus propias ideas buenas a las malas tuyas y confiarán en tu debilidad más que en su propia fuerza. Incluso pueden contar tus fracasos como sus propios. Entonces, es fundamental ser honesto sobre tus propias necesidades y vulnerabilidades, generar oportunidades de recibir en los lugares donde sirve, llegar a ser mutuamente endeudado, y desarrollar relaciones reales que te ayudan a operar al nivel del ojo con la comunidad.

As I’ve been tracking the location of my subscribers, I’ve noticed a funny thing. I’ve got more readers of this blog from Cambodia, India, and Vanuatu than I do from Bolivia, Colombia, and Guatemala – places where I’ve actually lived…for like seven years! Strange, I thought, to have such extensive personal and professional networks in these countries and so few readers. Then, an epiphany, in large swaths of the world, it is fairly common to find humanitarian aid workers and community development professionals who have learned English as a second or third language. In Latin America, however, it’s actually a lot less common than you’d think. I’ve poked around a bit in the Spanish-language development blogosphere and the options aren’t many. So, I think there is a potentially large audience among my Spanish-speaking colleagues that would like to engage in the topics discussed here.

So, with the help of Gabriela, my wife who is Bolivian, we will soon begin publishing Staying for Tea in Spanish. Short posts, like this one, will be simultaneous. Longer posts will be published separately with links between the English and Spanish versions. I don’t yet have a way for subscribers to elect to only receive one or the other, so I apologize ahead of time for the spam. But, as you know, I’m not a particularly prolific blogger – this isn’t my job after all, just a thing I do on the side with no financial reward – so, the hassle should be minimal. I’ll appreciate your feedback and any suggestions how to make this (soon-to-be) bilingual blog a better experience for you as the reader.

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ESPANOL

Como he estado siguiendo la ubicación de mis suscriptores, he notado algo curioso. Tengo más lectores de este blog en Camboya, la India y Vanuatu que en Bolivia, Colombia, y Guatemala – lugares en los que he vivido …  como por siete años! Es extraño, pensé, tener una extensa red personal y profesional en estos países y tan pocos lectores. Entonces, una epifanía, en grandes áreas del mundo, es bastante común encontrar a los trabajadores de ayuda humanitaria y profesionales de desarrollo comunitario que han aprendido Inglés como segunda o tercera lengua. Sin embargo, en América Latina, en realidad es mucho menos común de lo que parece. He buscado blogs sobre desarrollo internacional en español y las opciones son muy pocas. Por lo tanto, creo que hay una audiencia potencialmente grande entre mis colegas de habla hispana que deseen participar en los temas tratados aquí.

Así, con la ayuda de Gabriela, mi esposa, que es Boliviana, pronto comenzaremos a publicar Staying for Tea en español. Notas cortas, como ésta, serán simultáneas. Artículos mas largos se publicarán por separado con vínculos entre las versiones en Inglés y Español.  Todavía no tengo una forma para los suscriptores optar por recibir sólo uno o el otro, así que pido disculpas de antemano por el spam. Pero, como ustedes saben, yo no soy un blogger particularmente prolífico – este no es mi trabajo, después de todo, es sólo una cosa que hago como hobby sin recompensa económica – así, el problema debe ser mínimo. Voy a agradecerles por sus comentarios y sugerencias de cómo hacer este blog bilingüe una mejor experiencia para usted, como lector.

It was early 2006. I had been sent to conduct a results review of a large humanitarian organization’s response to the Indian Ocean tsunami. It was a sort of audit of the accuracy of the organization’s reports of what it had achieved in the first year of it’s multi-year response. On this day, I was somewhere along the southern coast of India, checking on a random sample of wells that had been reported as rehabilitated after being flooded with contaminated sea water. My schedule was tight as I still had a number of other reports to validate that day, including the provision of several thousand hygiene kits and mosquito nets, dozens of fishing boats, and scores of bicycles for fish mongers.

A group of fishmongers providing evidence. "Yes, we got the bikes. Thanks!"

I can’t actually recall how I came to be such a caricature of the professional humanitarian aid worker that day, but there I was arriving at people’s homes in a cloud of dust, stepping down from a white Toyota Land Cruiser with a clipboard in hand, decked in ExOfficio, dark sunglasses, and an American baseball cap, surrounded by an entourage of local colleagues taking advantage of the “learning opportunity”. I allowed myself to be led onto people’s private property without so much as a hollered warning or knock on the gate, where we proceeded to huddle around their wells and conduct our tests. What a tool.

At this particular home, a frail woman emerged from the shack near the well we were examining to inquire what we were doing. She seemed gracious as one of the district office leaders engaged her in conversation. When it seemed to me that he was laughing and saying “no” about something, I asked the translator what was going on.

“She has invited you into her home to share a cup of tea.”

“What did you tell her,” I asked.

“Suresh* told her that you are an important visiter from America and that you are very busy working on the tsunami relief project. It is impossible for you to accept.”

Temporary shelters and playground

And that’s when I wanted to punch myself in the side of the head. Not a year had passed since I’d published “Staying for Tea: Five Principles for the Community Service Volunteer,” in which I explained that the first principle of good work in a community is staying for tea. I figured that if you couldn’t or wouldn’t accept an invitation from a community member to share tea with them (or whatever the local cultural equivalent would be), then something was either wrong with you personally or with your organization.

After shedding the local retinue, I returned with my translator and the local worker. I apologized and asked if I could humbly accept her offer. We entered her home. As she prepared the tea, we began talking about the tsunami. I explained what I was doing and what my organization had been doing. She began to tell me about her experience. As we sipped tea, she produced two photographs. One was obviously of her husband. It was framed and had been hanging on the wall. She explained that he had been working that day and was never found. The second photo she pulled folded from some hidden pocket. It was of a beautiful young woman, perhaps in her teens. As tears began to stream down her face, she told me how they had been together when the tsunami came and how their grip on each other had failed. I took the photo in hand and began weeping with her.

For a brief time, we shed our superficial roles defined by my work and became just two people, sharing grief over a tragedy, equal in our humanity, sharing together with generosity and grace.

From then on, my work got a lot slower. We spent more time walking from home to home. We knocked and explained what we were doing before marching onto people’s land to look at “our” projects. I accepted multiple invitations for tea. I began carrying around photos of my family as well as my late wife to reciprocate the sharing of personal stories. Work days went from 10-12 hours to 14-16, but I felt like a human again, and not so much like an hypocritical ass.

I still make mistakes and have to check myself from time to time, but I’m getting better at avoiding the worst abuses of my own principles. I don’t tell this story as a confession nor from feigned humility – it’s just that these things happen and we have to learn from them. It’s a good story for me to remember and retell.

This is the final post of a 6-part series republishing the original Staying for Tea article from The Global Citizen journal (2005). You can link to the other posts in this series here: [1: Stay for Tea] [2: Process Matters] [3: Focus on Values] [4: Check yourFilter] [5: Cultivate a Servant's Heart] [6: Conclusion]

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Conclusion

Although these principles may seem somewhat obvious, I’d like to demonstrate with a real example how easy it is to forget the principles and serve poorly. There are so many opportunities to serve that we often get over-anxious to say yes. It’s easy to get excited and forget to ask some critical questions about what we’re doing. This is especially true when the service is connected with a church activity or Christian organization. We seem to forget that Christians have a history of making terrible mistakes just like everyone else. Good intentions do not guarantee good outcomes and joy in service cannot replace the thoughtful application of principles to our service.

Not Guatemala, but you know the scene.

I have a friend who worked in Central America helping to organize visits from church youth groups. She had one that took to throwing American footballs and coins out the windows of their van while driving through small communities. They took joy in watching the flocks of children clamoring after the van and crying out with delight at the money and strange misshapen balls. My friend, who had quite a bit of experience serving these communities, first asked, then pleaded, then admonished them to stop. The accompanying pastor reproached her for attempting to limit the youths’ expression of love. He chastised her for stifling their well-intentioned generosity and curbing their fun. As far as he was concerned, it was a beautiful thing to see young Americans eager to share their blessings with the poor children of Guatemala and having a good time doing it together. It should be reinforced and encouraged, he said, not tempered.

If you’re not sure whether to cringe or side with the pastor, that’s okay; that’s why I chose this example. It is neither extreme nor rhetorical. It wasn’t a disaster, and the pastor had a point – it is beautiful to see young Americans eager to share – but it demonstrates the dangers of not bounding our service by a few principles.

This is why I think this is a bad example of service. Its not that footballs and money are bad or unnecessary, but the way they were given was a dehumanizing treatment of the children. Rather than bridging the power differential between the wealthy and poor youth, the passing interaction only reinforced it. The need to have fun, take pictures and bring home amazing stories from an exotic place defined the agenda more than the values, resources and contextual reality of those being served, to which little interest was shown. Rather than stopping and taking an interest in these communities, the speeding vanload reinforced their isolation and unimportance. They didn’t even warrant a real visit; instead, they had stuff tossed at them in passing.

The youth group didn’t see the division, jealousy and strife among the children left in their wake, some of whom were lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time, some who weren’t. They didn’t reflect on the possibility that the attitude conveyed in their actions might have debilitating effects on the children’s views of themselves and of North Americans.

We should not be paralyzed by the fear of committing errors, but we should be self-conscious and think critically about how we go about serving others. Taking the time to submit our community service to a few principles should help us to avoid doing harm and, with God’s good grace, may help us be part of a positive process of transformation.