Nondini post: July 1st

(This is posted on behalf of Nondini.  We have been without internet at the house for three weeks…)

 

It finally happened. After weeks of meetings with beneficiaries, and entering the lives of over 120 people, I reached my breaking point. I felt a rush of sickening emotion and I honestly thought, I don’t know if I can do this anymore. It’s just too hard. It’s surprising what hits you the hardest. Strangely enough it was my first meeting with a men’s group that put my stomach in knots, and nearly brought tears to my eyes. The men’s group was the last of a long string of highly intense meetings today. Already weary I was looking forward to wrapping up the day.

 

Ryan was sick at home with the flu as was Betty. And JT was dealing with an emergency health situation at Cherokee. It was my first “healthy” work week, so John and I ploughed through.

 

When the men came into the courtyard of the Bole Office I saw 7 gaunt men with protruding cheekbones and wide eyes. They greeted eachother with shoulder bumps and handshakes and sat patiently waiting for the session to start. What I wasn’t prepared for was the honesty and desperation in their voices as they spoke of their history and what they wanted to accomplish. One by one they described losing their wives to AIDS, their shame evident that they had brought this disease into their homes. Their voices went down to a barely audible whisper as they talked about getting tested, and trying to keep their families free of infection. For many of them they had been orphaned by the time they were 11 years old and had come to Addis Ababa to go to school and to seek their fortunes. They had occupations that ranged from working as guards, to police officers, to construction workers. And although physically they looked like shadows of their former selves their fervent desire to build a business and a better life for their families made them larger than life.

 

They pitched their idea to start a construction supply business and talked passionately about the opportunities to make this dream a reality. But they continuously reiterated the fact that they were open to do ANYTHING, anything that we thought might work. Do you know what it’s like to look into the faces of men who are 20 years older than you, who are struggling to survive ask for your help? They were so proud and worthy of such dignity, that I felt completely helpless. What could I say or do in an hour or two hours that could make a real difference?

 

They were grateful for whatever we could offer, some suggestions on how to think about operations, finances and marketing. They hungrily wrote down every word and with each passing moment my sense of responsibility increased to nauseating levels. They were so thankful for what ever knowledge we were able to share, and we encouraged, challenged and underscored the fact that we don’t have any answers. We are happy to discuss ideas, offer different ways to look at problems, and at the same time wary of offering false hope or unrealistic expectations.

 

John, a generous soul, let me take the lead as the session progressed and I realized that my voice sounded much stronger than I felt. They were excited as we pitched a case study to them and listened to their thoughtful and critically mindful questions. The gratitude in the room was overpowering, the humility of both parties tangible. But instead of feeling a sense of elation that I sometimes after an especially productive meeting, I felt awful.

 

Danny who runs the Bole Office translated the session for us and seemed encouraged by the session, and thanked us profusely. He did an incredible job taking our words and conveying genuine care and emotion as he relayed questions and reshaped our comments for the cultural context. For that we are grateful to all of our patient interpreters. We have a dream team among the SIM staff: Mehret who handles each of our sessions with the enthusiasm of the very first, Howie who gently and patiently spells Amharic names for us, and the resilient Aleuf who assertively gathers answers to even our most difficult questions.

 

Four months of preparation for this trip seem like an oxymoron. Nothing could prepare us for the emotional toll of this work, or the intensity of the project. Three weeks into this experience and it’s certainly one of the most grueling assignments I’ve ever had. The incredibly pressure to perform, to make a difference is completely self inflicted and the whole team is staggering from the weight of wanting to do the right thing. We see our stakeholders every day, we see their needs, their desire for any opportunity, and this fuels passionate discussions about the best plan of action late into every night. The flu, stress and exhaustion make us cranky with one another at times, but we stick together knowing that we share one thing: an incredible commitment to help in anyway that we can. Feeling guilty in taking a moment for a movie, or enjoying a peaceful evening by the fire is lessening somewhat as we recognize that we cannot be of any use to anyone unless we preserve ourselves and our health. John continues to push for us take care, and reminds us of the strides we’ve made in a short time. But still we each struggle alone trying to make peace with a world that feels terribly unfair sometimes.

 

With a month left, we are working on the business cases for different initiatives and hitting milestones. Yet, with so much left to do in such a short time, we fight waves of feeling overwhelmed and move steadily forward…. Tomorrow another 4 meetings with beneficiary groups.

 

More to follow…