firefighting

after spending a good portion of this morning putting out yet another potential fire sparked in relation to our most problematic funder, i stop a moment to ponder. why oh why is USAID such a disaster? it's really quite embarassing. and it needn't be this way. the international development agencies of other nations are culturally aware, coherently structured, staffed with competent and intellectually curious people, respected and held in high esteem. i have even contemplated - in moments in a dark room wondering what i will really ultimately do with my sparkly self during this lifetime - joining the canadian foreign service just so i could work for CIDA (canadian international development agency). [ahh the joys of being a dual national! i can always distance myself from the tornado ballet that is USAID by gracefully deploying the canadian card. hard to do that, though, when you work for an NGO with "american" in its name and when some of your projects are funded by USAID....]

incidentally, the major drawback to the canadian foreign service plan (aside from the obvious questionable career path issues and probably having to be initiated into the service with a class of fresh-faced 20-year-olds and the potential harm to my self esteem from being around so much supple young skin) is that i don't speak french. although you get an entire year in which to become profficient in the national language you don't speak, and i suppose there are worse ways to spend a year than studying french in ottawa. if you are asking why i would go to ottawa to learn french, that is an excellent question! i think better places for me to learn french would include: paris, the french riveria, on a french vineyard where my jobs included learning french, flirting, and sampling champagne, or beirut. confessoin: i have had a passionate secret crush on beirut for years even though i've never been there. it has long been on the list of cities i would like to have as a partial home despite my having never set foot on lebanese soil. beirut just seems to me so hopelessly romantic, gorgeous and complex, swirling at the center of so much: an elaborate, ancient past, a breathless, dazzling future, an alluring present, beauty, pain, terror, wonder, art, ecstasy, despair, freedom. i don't know why i ascribe so much to a city i've never met. it's a lot of pressure. but i have faith beirut will not disappoint. (although i suppose recent experience suggests that i should not have faith that i will not be disappointed. hmmm. too bad, i'm a believer.) in fact, a few years ago when i was (once again) in a dark room* wondering what i will really ultimately do with my sparkly self during this lifetime, i decided that my ideal situation would be one in which i could divide my time between cities i love and use all of my languages. i decided on beijing and beirut and new york. for alliteration's sake, i briefly considered boston. but i don't love boston. i also thought i could add berlin if i needed a european base. so many b's! so much that is aesthetically and aurally pleasing about that! and such a nice arc around our spinning orb. then i realized it was ridiculous to think of cities to live in based on their first letter. and even more ridiculous to spend time thinking about how to maintain homes in so many cities without a real purpose. i was at that time unemployed are really spending a lot of time in that dark room wondering. i still think it sounds like a great plan to divide your time among beijing, beirut, and new york. i simply need to sort out a way to actualize it.

but that is for some future me. (maybe the one who would come back and take the present me out for a sisterly glass of wine and tell me to calm down and keep on dancing! we would laugh, eat cumin-roasted almonds [this is a very vivid detail in this particular fantasy, so do indulge], toss our better-than-we-really have hair about, and smile at life.) for now, i am simply trying to actualize rule of law promotion for an international NGO despite all of the obstacles presented by USAID. as noted above, CIDA is so respected i spent a year in ottowa in my mind learning french for them. (in actuality it was about 7 minutes. this was unfortunate, because i like to do things in 8s, but i think i only thought about it for 7 minutes.) DFID is dignified and their staff always cordial and smart and at the top of their field - a healthy foxtrot. the other SIDA is equally impressive - a brisk nordic breeze of efficiency. and then there's the tornado ballet, dear old USAID.

an example of what it's like to work with them. we are transparent with our local partners about the fact that we receive US government funding. we are able to explain that although we receive government money, we are independent and not beholden to or representatives of the US government in any way. then the regional USAID "folks" as they would call themselves show up. (aside: i really can't stand it when people use the word "folks" in a professional setting. it's a very american thing and i know its meant to intimate of intimacy or cowpies or some combination thereof, but it makes me cringe.) while in china, in front of our local partners they continually call us their "agents". this is (1) not true, (2) insulting, and (3) deeply problematic because of the message it sends to the chinese. to wit - that depsite our protestations to the contrary, we are in fact agents of the US government. needless to say, there were a lot of fires to put out after that visit. to be fair, the USAID "folks" declined to call us their "agents" on their next trip. but still. we can do better, "folks".

we were fighting fires of a similar nature this morning. and i just had to stop and question why. why? there is no need. not all international development agencies are so inept. sigh. nothing to be done except keep on dancing.

*a clarification - the dark room is metaphorical. i don't really sit in a dark room and think about these things. more like i collect myself into a dark corner of my mind to contemplate as i am aimlessly walking around on a sunday afternoon.