Posts Tagged work

Ten Minutes to an Hour

Well, the ten minute restriction turned into well over an hour. We had a truncated quiz show, and I watched how the KNZRT questions grew and developed in terms of the answers we had already heard.

After the meeting, of course, there was the food. This time around, however, it was paired with drinking and the group leader, who was a downright comedian. She was a new retiree, and insisted on celebrating her newly awarded pension with a bottle of vodka. Thankfully, these three shots came after a day of eating, so no drunkenness was at risk. The real value however, was in the comedy.

See, the two Noble Kiwis are well into their fifties, and are accustomed to both Kyrgyz humor, and that of women all over the world. So, when this woman began proposing to them, and joking about keeping them around as husbands, they didn’t shy away. Instead of make the joke awkward, they jumped on the bandwagon, listing off their requirements for a bride. It was a happy family endeavor, and the groups all called on us for an inevitable return.

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Surprise Goat

The lunch we just received turned out to be besh barmak over rice. That seemed like enough, until a delicacy came out I’ve only ever seen once before: the organ sack, stuffed with rice, organ meat and fat, tied up to look like a duck, complete with a beak made of a carrot. It was presented to Tony, with command, “either you buy it, or you shoot it.” (This rhymes in Kyrgyz).

All of us foreigners thought the village trip was finished after this meal. However, on the way out of town, we stopped in a large building from Soviet times. We had joked about it being abandoned earlier in the day, but we have found it to be very much inhabited, by a number of families. One of these families is part o one of the goat groups, and it is this family that is hosting us now.

As per usual, the outside of the building looks cold and very Soviet, but once inside, it is a world of color. There are rugs on the walls, shyrdaks on the floors, and brightly colored table cloths. I can see another room full of food, though I know the KNZRT brass are eager to get on the move. We’ve a workshop to plan for Friday, and these group visits, as necessary and valuable as they are, seriously dig into that planning.

In the mean time, however, the usual pattern is developing: we’re in the quiz show right now. While they’ve proclaimed to spend only ten minutes here, I don’t know how they’ll fit the touchy-feely portion and the food into that small amount of time.

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Lunch Number 3

We’ve moved from our follow-up meeting with the old groups, and moved into another large lunch with a new group of women, once again focused around goats.

It’s a curious methodology, these goat groups. According to KNZRT, a goat group costs about $3,800 to start. These costs are trainings, sainfoin seeds, and mostly, the goats: 5 per member. But after the first year, the group keeps the kids the goats produce, and pass the original goats on to a new group. In this way, the costs of continuing the project another year is only around $500.

During our last meeting, we identified that the women who had received the goats were not particularly poor. They already had animals before the program had begun. “It was risk management on the part of the people who organized the groups,” we concluded. Very poor people are less likely to show good results with their groups, so the organizers are more willing to put middle income families in the groups, to look successful in the eyes of the big bosses. Naturally, however, as the goal of the program is to help poor people, and not improve overall goat stocks, they would have preferred poorer, riskier families.

Another curious recurring conversation has been on weighing the animals. During the first year of the program, while it was closely monitored, everyone weighed their animals. Once the close scrutiny passed, the women stopped weighing them. “We are Kyrgyz!” They said, “we know how much the animals weigh just by looking, or from when our husbands pick them up!”

Now, if it was me conducting the meetings, I’d have just recommended they reconsider, and then fall back on their advice. But not our experienced developers. “No, you don’t know,” was the curt response. “Farmers all over the world, whether in New Zealand or in Africa say this. But you can’t be sure. Furthermore, from our calculations, animals that are over 40 kilos in December are much more likely to produce twins. It is in your interest to weigh your animals!”

That folks, is detailed, grass roots development at perfection.

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Never Forget the Goat Groups

The sainfoin field, unfortunately, was a bust, we have learned. A frost this May apparently killed the entire crop. It was an expensive investment that has now been reduced to rubble. In its place, generic grass and thistle took over the field.

“If this was New Zealand,” Brian said, “we’d have at least cut this grass before the thistle had turned woody and flowered. Your animals won’t be able to eat this!” These are hard hitting guys, who know their facts.

Then they turned to the adviser hired to maintain the groups. “What about fertilizer? Perhaps if there had been fertilizer in this field, the sainfoin would have been strong enough to withstand the frost.”

“We cannot use fertilizer,” he said. “It is too expensive.”

“That is what you said 4 years ago about potatoes. Today, everyone uses it, and everyone’s crops are much better!” This is a continuing story out here. The KNZRT guys keep harping on ideas until the people believe. Eventually, it seems, they come around.

Since the field, we’ve moved into the front lawn of the very attractive local school. In the courtyard there is a bust of a Kyrgyz man, and where we are sitting, off to the right, there is a giant WWII memorial. There is a big silver statue of a soldier in the middle, the dates 1941 and 1945, underlined with the text, “No one will not forget nothing.” (In the Kyrgyz language, opposites to not logically negate each other, as in English. Instead, a sentence is considered incorrect if the negatives do not match, as they do in the sentence above.)

Now, we are talking with 7 women from two goat groups started two years ago. They are telling us about how many goats they were given, the kidding rates, how they sold the cashmere, and what they’d like to turn their investment into in the future.

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Out of the Frying Pan and into the Field

Well, after a large, healthy lunch, we have made our way our to a sainfoin field. This is an Asiatic legume that KNZRT has introduced to these farmers as a highly superior feed crop in these high altitude areas. If the farmers weren’t producing this, they’d be growing simple hay that would provide very little value to the animals.

It being a legume also has the benefit of nitrification of the field. I’m told that 5 years after the first crop, the roots get very thick, and the crops need to be rotated. This is just fine, as the now nitrogen rich soil works expertly for the improved potatoes.

There is also some growing interest in this ultra-blogging I’ve been doing myself. The two noble Kiwis are both deep into their fifties, and are getting just such a tickle out of watching me blog from co-ops and fields in this such a remote region. They have delighted in sending emails to their wives, and telling me stories of how when they first came here, nearly ten years ago, it was nearly impossible to get in touch with anyone, much less update their blogs (if such things existed back then) from behind a hillock of hay.

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Development Theory over Lunch

As I promised, we’ve another mountain of food resting before us. We’re all seated on the floor around a low table, with women bringing us milky tea as we talk and await the meal. We’re talking development and markets, with the resident Kiwi experts trying to figure out what the ceiling for bakery production might be here in the At Bashy rayon.

Before we arrived, Tony related to me a story that he said, “struck me right between the eyes.”

“When we first came to the sewing cooperative 2 years ago, the lead woman came out to thank me for the machines. ‘Don’t thank me,’ I said, ‘I want to thank you for doing so much with the resources we gave you.’ ‘No,’ she said, ‘thank you for having the faith in me. Thank you for giving us the confidence to have a vision.’”

Besides Kyrgyzstan, these guys have worked all over the world. I’ve asked them to tell me about what development work is like in other places.

“In Kyrgyzstan, they have the experience of working with someone who had a vision. The Soviets told them of their grand plans, and the people remember those kinds of dreams. Much of the program here involves taking the ideas they had in the past, and scaling them down from giant collective sizes to individual sizes.

“Take silage, for example. In Soviet times, there were giant pits to provide silage for an entire cooperative farm. Today, we need to reteach silage techniques to the farmers, and show them that the process can be done on a much smaller scale.

“Also, in Kyrgyzstan, there are roads just about everywhere. Everyone is literate, and everyone is numerate. In places in Cambodia or Nepal, for example, records books will be a complete mess, because not everyone can understand them.”

From these conversations and others, I see a pretty bright picture for the people of Kyrgyzstan. As far as colonized countries are concerned, the post-Soviet nations have a certain leg up. As a former Peace Corps volunteer from Guinea recently pointed out to me, “Kyrgyzstan was colonized for long term occupation. The Russians intended to keep this land forever, and thus developed like it was a valued part of the empire. Guinea, on the other hand, and many other parts of Africa, were simply looted. The people were not educated to be an asset, but divided an kept ignorant while the colonial power plundered.”

Right now, I can hear dishes rattling in the kitchen, and can smell the boiled meat. Our table of bread, salads and sweets is about to start brimming over with food, and I had better get back in there.

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Bakery Bread to Rival the World

I have now made my way over to the 2 year old Gulazyk bakery group. These incredibly active women make some of the best bread I’ve had in country. They are out in the farthest corner of nowhere, and finding a market for their goods is a challenge. They tell me they sell at the famous At Bashy Mal Bazaar on Sunday, as well as through some of the little shops in local stores. They’d like to sell in Naryn city, they say, but transportation is, at this time, prohibitively expensive.

One of the most common questions by the Noble Kiwis is: “How has the income from this cooperative improved your living standards?”

these ladies, making around 4,00o som a month, have given an answer consistent with other successful groups: “our flocks of animals are growing.”

Normally, they try to keep the size of their flock the same, from year to year, they say. Between sales for basic needs, they also slaughter a certain number of animals for food in the winter. These women report that with the income from their group, they are able to keep form slaughtering their animals, allowing their flocks to grow. In an area of poor agricultural yield that relies heavily on livestock for wealth, this is a huge deal.

It’s half past noon now, and preparations are growing for lunch. I can only imagine the feast that awaits us.

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Sewing in the Mountains

Well, instead of going to the bakery, we have found ourselves on the premises of a small sewing cooperative. They have four different sewing machines, and 4 happy ladies working here. Most of their products are school uniforms and frilly, fancy dresses. They say they also make curtains, and even some shyrdaks!

Brian regaled them with a story about how he bought a shyrdak from them last year, but it was held at the very strict border going into New Zealand. “If you want to sell to foreigners,” he told them, “your product must be very, very clean!”

“But we can’t clean the wool,” they said, “we don’t have the machines.”

At that point, Brian leaned over to Tony and said, “perhaps we can get some machines out to these ladies.”

Now, everyone is talking about the future. Is the cooperative growing, they want to know. Are they increasing membership. What kind of goals are they setting for the future?

There is also the question of the curious Savings and Credit fund. As part of the program, before any resources are doled out, each newly formed group is required to start a Credit and Savings fund. Each member pays into this fund every month. Initial contribution is usually around $5 (200 som), and monthly contributions range from under one dollar (20 som), to $3 (100 som). Then, at a self-identified interest rate (usually %5 or %10), the women can loan this money out to members. One goat group we visited yesterday had built a war-chest of 20,000 som! At this point, there is high discussion on how to advise these women on what to do with their funds.

Now, as our meeting is concluding, the conversation has turned to competition. There are many women around with these sewing skills, and more cooperatives nearby. We are trying to convince the women that working together, and growing the cooperatives is a better idea than competing with each other for the limited local market.

“Work together!” Brian has been saying, “with more output, you can market your product outside of just your village, even in Bishkek! But if you don’t make those connections, you’ll run yourselves, and each other out of business.”

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The Kyrgyz Fattening Program

We are coming to the end of our meeting here at the dairy group in Ak Muz. The group is called “Ak Adilet,” which I think translates to “White Equality.” This sounds kind of strange in translation. It stems from “ak” or ‘white’ have a number of meanings. The best I can explain is in terms of the blessing, “may you have a white road,” which is like saying ‘happy travels.’ Does this give a better explanation for white “White Equality,” would mean? Try “Glorious Equality.”

Anyway, here we are with the concrete questions having been answered. The group told us all about how they buy milk at one price, and then improve it. On top of this, they save their product to sell during the winter, when prices are higher. With the numbers out of the way, we have broken into what we’ve been calling the “Great Fattening Program.”

This refers to how, being guests, we are treated to food at just about every meeting. Here, right now, I’m before a table featuring watermellon, kurut balls, bread from a nearby bakery (also part of the KNZRT program), cookies, fresh cream, some chocolate candies, and a curious brown mixture of condensed milk and sugar, that has been described to me as Kyrgyz Halva. In order to present this little snack, the ladies of this group nicely removed the intestine and organ sack that was holding some of their fresh butter. (Of this butter, they told us it sells much better than butter stored in western-style containers, as the flavor isn’t as good, and the storage less convenient.)

From here, we’ll visit the bakery that produced the wonderful bread we’ve just had. Most likely, the first hour of that meeting will once again involved the nuts and bolts financial figures that make up their business, and the second hour will be a gigantic meal. Never fear lack of detail, for rest assured, I’ll keep you posted.

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Kyrgyzstan Through the Eyes of a Kiwi

I am caught this week spending my time with some very important people from very different areas. Over the weekend, the bigwigs from Bishkek and Washington came in to pay little ol’ Naryn a sunny visit.

Last Saturday night was defined by a fancy dinner involving two people from Washington: the Regional Direction for Eurasia, and a nice man who holds the fairly vague position of “Desk Officer” for our part of the world. The dinner was rounded out by our Country Director, in from Bishkek. We treated them to the local dinnertime hot spot, and they got to know the delightful local custom of employing an off-key karaoke DJ to spice-up the loud, Friday night music.

Then, along with the rising Sunday morning sun, this esteemed crew hopped from one volunteer to the next, viewing our living conditions and working environments. When they got to my house, my family, as always, charmed them to pieces. We had a wonderful breakfast, and my home-stay dad even had the decency to lie on my behalf.

“Yes,” he said, with a wink in my direction, “Carl stays up very late working, and then, like a strong farmer, he rises every morning with the sun.”

But the brass, as always, had a lot to see, and very little time to see it. One minute they were jumping happily around Naryn, and the next they were off to the beautiful Lake Issyk Kul.

In their stead came in the folks from the venerable Kyrgyzstan – New Zealand Rural Fund. For those of you who remember, these are the professional development practitioners who let me tag along with them a bit last year, when I was as green as green could be. This year, they’ve extended me the same courtesy.

The two men I’ve been hanging around with this week are veterans of this kind of exactly the kind of work I’d like to make a career of. They talk about development, about micro-finance, about “giving a hand up, not a hand out.” Finally, with the experience to understand what is going on, they are letting me see what the nuts and bolts of well funded, grass roots development work really entails.

Each day we go to a village where they have, through local staff, organized small scale development programs. Most of these are groups of 5 to 8 people, all nominally organized to accomplish a particular goal. One group might be trying to maximize growing efforts in a new green house; another with goat breeding; another with improved varieties of potatoes. But this is just one portion of the goal. Within each group, members pool a small amount of money each month, and then draw on this money for internal micro-loans. To make sure all of this works well, these Kiwis don’t miss a beat.

I sit and watch as, through a translator, these guys ask the groups how much every individual element of a project costs, from inputs to labor, and the opportunity cost of it all. Afterwards, we have long discussions on the development philosophy behind everything, and how best to help the poorest people in each village. The opportunity is simply profound.

And folks, if all this excitement weren’t enough, from this letter onwards, I will be participating in a 24-hour blogapalooza. That means, once per hour, every hour, for the next day, I will be making a post to my blog. That’s right. For anyone who really wants to know what a day in the life of Kyrgy Carl is like, now is your chance.

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