Entering the car economy

When riding around with friends with cars, I always had the job of paying the car guard. Because I always had a purse full or R2 coins, and for some reason that was completely beyond me, people driving cars never had change. I never understood why. It's true that I hoarded change, because it was useful on taxis….but that couldn't be all.

And in fact, I realized this week that it wasn't all, when I was pulling out of the parking lot, and had no change for the car guard. 

For the past month, I have been driving everywhere I go, even if it's to the park to go for a walk. As a result, I go to places which are car friendly, I stock up, and I pay with a credit card. I no longer walk by the Yeoville market and buy vegetables for dinner for R8. I don't pick things up from street vendors, where I used to do most of my shopping. I drive to Fruit n Veg and put R500 on my debit card. In fact, since getting a car, I haven't drawn cash at an ATM, which I used to do once a week. 

I have become suburban! We hold the hope that no condition is permanent….

One more way the world is unfair

The Wits campus is a bit of a fortress. When people in South Africa talked about opening the doors of higher education, they certainly didn't mean it literally. As a visitor, you can drive onto campus in a couple different places. The nice attendant at the boom gate gives you a slip of paper, and away you go.  There's only one walking entrance for visitors, however; at Senate House. You must show a photo ID, and tell them where you're going. The process takes significantly longer than driving, and security occasionally calls the person you're going to visit. And the reason the security folks gave me for the measures were because there had been computer thefts on campus. Really. Who takes computers and leaves with them on foot? And not in a car? Really? 

All protocol observed

I had the pleasure of recently attending the first ordinary session of the third pan african parliament, for a post 2015 consultation on governance. Like any institution, it has its own vocabulary and ways of working; one is saying 'all protocol observed' when thanking the relevant chairperson, people who have spoken before, etc. My initial reaction was that this was quaint and charming - until they wouldn't let my baby through security in the interest of 'protocol'. Don't get me wrong - I wasn't trying to take an infant into the parliamentary chambers.  There is a large administrative office block, a huge lawn, and plenty of space around the parliament itself, so I didn't think it would be a problem to have the baby close enough to feed.  A good friend was kind enough to come along and take care of the baby for the day. It turns out, she (and the baby) had to spend the whole day sitting in the Gallagher Estate parking lot because of protocol.  I missed half the meeting because I had to hike up through security every time the baby was hungry. I wonder what else 'protocol' dictates in such forums, and who else it excludes. Given how we go about making decisions, the outcomes shouldn't be any great surprise. 

Spear/Smear of the nation destroyed

I'm not quite sure if I'm thrilled that art is still playing such a cutting edge role in provoking public debate, or morbidly fascinated that there aren't better things to worry about than the president's willy. For those not living in South Africa (or living under a rock), the Goodman Gallery has become The Place To Be in Joburg, when, in the savviest curatorial decision in history, they put up a Brett Meyer art exhibit including a picture of Zuma with his, ahem, hanging out (others have suggested that it could just as well be Vavi - this doesn't make quite as good a news story, though...). As an aside, the rest of the exhibit's quite clever.

The ANC's response was not quite so savvy; what was an opportunity to show a bit of humor and maturity instead sparked protests and court interdicts (which I can't imagine have a chance in the world of getting anywhere, except making noise in the papers....we were starting to get tired of Mdluli anyway). Given that South Africa has some of the strongest jurisprudence protecting satire out there, I'm not sure what the goal is (perhaps build support for certain presidential parts being covered by the secrecy bill?).

Anyway, it seems like every time these furors erupt in public discourse, I come away feeling very un-South African (maybe home affairs saw something to make them delay my ID book application). In very much the same way I feel un-American when the conversation turns to politics in Nebraska. I'm generally surrounded by 'leftish' public intellectuals, most of whom were strongly supportive of the ANC (and many of whom still are), while still being critical of the corruption, neoliberalism, materialism, and other nasties are now part of the ruling party. Whether or not I agree with their take on issues like this, I'm acutely aware of a complete chasm that exists in mindsets between them, and the ANC supporters protesting for the removal of the painting. I can't even blame this one on economic inequality, because I feel the same chasm when my mother starts talking about Sarah Palin.

In cases like this, you can't completely avoid the discussion of who's right (there's some sort of responsibility to public discourse to hash it out, at least until the newspapers get bored)....But at the risk of sounding like a marriage counselor, I'm not sure being right is the point (even though it's to know I'm right). The more important questions aren't battled out in the media...given all this, how can we still work towards all the things we do agree on? The current levels of unemployment are shocking whether you think the depiction of Zuma is racist of not. As the DA and Cosatu are at loggerheads about a youth wage subsidy, why is the discussion about the disagreement in means, instead of how to achieve the shared goal?

Out My Window This Week

1. The neighbors. Now that the leaves have almost fallen off the trees, the views into the flats across the street are unobstructed. Happily, I have curtains. Unhappily, most of the neighbors do not. I suppose there ought to be some sort of urban camaraderie in the guy next door smoking in his boxers while I'm sitting out on the balcony having my morning coffee. I haven't found it yet. It's too cold to be eating breakfast outside anyway.

2. The Jesus Mobile. There has been a very large, bright blue combi driving around, with a life sized Jesus and megaphone on top, playing gospel music. I don't know where it comes from, but it goes by about twice a day.

3. The sun! I'm on the south side of the building, which means as winter comes, I get more direct sunlight.  First thing in the morning, it's fabulous!

4. The Rat saga continues. I'm quite happy to watch them dance in the gutters as I do the dishes, but apparently folks on the first floor have started getting them as visitors. Not so great. I wouldn't mind a good excuse to get a cat! We'll see.

5. Vuvuzelas. With the Pirates win last night, they're back with a vengeance. During the day, a block away, I feel content patriotism. All night, right under the window, is a different story. 

Out my window this Friday

1. The candle light vigils (whatever they were for) have ended, and been replaced by bonfires, lit by the homeless people sleeping in the park. Winter is on its way, the nights are getting chilly. Homelessness is a problem; fire hazards are a problem, what to do?

2. Rooftop gym. 2 buildings up, an impromptu gym has been set up, and there have been people lifting weights every evening. Most of the equipment is improvised (paint cans filled with cement to make dumbbells), and most of the guys are buff enough that it doesn't look like they need much exercise....Still, it makes me wish we had a flat roof; like so many buildings around, it adds fabulous communal space to a building.

3. Sports week! One of the schools nearby (I'm not sure which one) took over the park next door for sports this week. They set up cones, obstacle courses, race tracks, and had the usual assortment of leapfrog, 3 legged races, and walking like a duck. It made the week noisier than most, but more entertaining.

4. Mynahs, mynahs everywhere. All the migratories have long gone; now we're down to the rough and tumble city birds that stick out the winter.

5. To let again; the occupation of the flat across the way only lasted for 2 days, now it's to let again. So much for my optimism about renting being easy...

Pregnancy faux pas

I got asked 4 times this morning if I'm having twins. No, no I'm not. I am, however, outgrowing maternity clothes. I didn't realise that was possible. Ah, the learning curve that comes with reproduction....

Money is the new dompas

I was sitting next to the taxi driver on the way to Braamfontein this morning. In the ashtray, there was a a scrap of paper, with a doodle of a dog on it. A very artistic doodle. Not a photographic likeness of a dog, but you know those sketches that manage to capture the 'doggy-ness' of that particular dog, sometimes in more revealing ways than a photograph would? Anyway, I was enchanted, so I asked him if he had drawn it. It was like the floodgates had opened. The story of why he never studied art should be turned into a book some day. It was one of the most eloquent sketches of transformation in contemporary South Africa I've heard; I wish I'd been able to record it. I just remember snippets, here and there; the title is one of them...

....we were constrained then, by police, asking for our passes. Now it's tsotsis asking for money. Sometimes the tsotsis are criminals, street thugs. Sometimes they work in banks, and wear suits. Either way, they constrain us as much as apartheid did. I still wonder if my son could become an artist in South Africa.
......before it was the whites displacing us, now it's the Zimbabweans.

Every time I have conversations like this, I want it to be simultaneously transformed into a story, and an excerpt for my PhD....

Great Durban Salt March?

My discovery for the day: we pay VAT on iodated table salt. Apparently, it doesn't qualify as an 'essential food item'. Given that it only costs about R6/kg, I don't envisage mass protests. I was just surprised, checking my grocery receipt. I wonder how that decision got made....

The fieldwork begins...

Just when I'm getting so round I'm ripping the seams of maternity clothes, funding has come through to start fieldwork...so I'm now scrambling to see what I can possibly get under way in the next 5 weeks, so that in my dreams, by the time the baby arrives there will be fabulous, well trained researchers all over the shore diligently gathering data as I recover, and by August I'll just have to fill in a few gaps, follow up on a few interviews here and there, and analyse what's been found.

I also think this is probably impossible and insane to be attempting to set everything up in 4 sites in about as many weeks (with no preparation), and wonder what's going to end up being neglected in the process.  Whee!

A Day At the Office

I just spent half a day at an office. A real office! It was the first time in years (honestly, 5 of them), and I found it exceptionally enjoyable. Doubly enjoyable, because I could be there, and not share in their stress. Everyone is preparing for a big conference, and tensions were running high. People were running up and down, there were last minute meetings with raised voices as the details of everything were being finalised. The telephone switchboard quit working mid-morning, and Telkom had to be called in. There were only 25 people in the office, but from the buzz, you'd swear it was twice as many.

Through it all, I got to sit in a quiet little corner, and plug along at the piece of work I had to do, offering occasional sympathetic head nods as people ran by upset and tense.  It made me realise how much organisational bandwidth gets consumed feeding the organisation. I felt that in my previous job - like I only spent half my time actually doing things and the other half being consumed by vague organisational imperatives (circular email conversations in which everyone and their dog is cc:ed. Trying to schedule a teleconferece, in which a minimum of 2 attendees are travelling at any given time. Trying to figure out who has the mandate to make a decision about whatever) I don't have a solution to this - when organisations grow, they need switchboards (which sometimes break, and cause havoc), cooperation (which takes time) and systems (which are sometimes slow). I was just happy to be around it, and not part of it for the day, and hope to continue sitting smuggly and productively in a corner. 

Hurry up and wait

As an aspiring consultant still with my NGO employer part time, it's very interesting to see both sides of under-capacity at the same time. In the last two weeks, I've had two phone calls from organisations saying they *urgently* need something to be done this week, and am I available *immediately*? Happily, the only thing work interrupts at the moment is gazing at my expanding navel, so I sign up without hesitation. The problem is, my agreement is inevitably followed up with silence.

I know that silence; I'm responsible for it on the other side of the fence. It's the silence of a last minute reconsideration of the work plan; of an unexpected disagreement in the board; of a hangup on finances; of the crucial project designer catching flu. When I'm on the NGO side of the fence, this silence gives me some breathing space to catch up on the backlog of 100 other things that need to get done. When I'm on the consultant side of the fence, it gives me the chance to sit on the balcony with a spoonful of nutella and try and sort out realistic expectations for Life After Baby.  At some other point, it might make me anxious and irritable - it's very hard to plan your workload! But for now, it's a good lesson in zen.

Working with consultants

Duncan Green at Oxfam just blogged a musing about how to work with consultants.  It's a combination of tips and dilemmas, that generally offers 'things you already know but probably don't always do' types of solutions (such as, have clear Terms of Reference).  Anyway, his post got me thinking....the network I've been working with doesn't get everything right, but I do think we've come up with a kind of organisational 2.0 approach to consultancies that has served us well.

Depending on the nature and structure of the network or organisation, it's pretty likely that somewhere out there,  a couple degrees of separation away, is an ideal skills set for what you need to get done.  Doing a project evaluation? I bet some partner organisation on another project has an M&E officer who has great technical skills and would love to explore a new area of work.  Paying the organisation for their time is very likely to be cheaper than hiring an external consultant, the organisation gets some free staff development (which they probably don't have the time or resources to prioritise) and you have the opportunity to strengthen institutional connections.  It brings in a good balance of 'close enough to our work that we have some quality control', and yet doesn't always involve calling up the same voices, or paying a fortune for something that's not useful.  Everyone wins, and you're more likely to get a result that speaks the right language.

Secondments are fabulous.  If your organisation work globally and you want some regional research done, you can be guaranteed that there are regional organisations who would also like more interface with the global perspective, or vice versa.  Talk to people! Often, think tanks, funders, networks, and others, have identified similar research gaps or priorities. Someone's probably talking about the same sorts of things you are, and would be keen to collaborate on a solution.  Not only is it cheaper for everyone in the end, but the result is inevitably better.

On working with students....I think we've had some of our best and worst organisational contributions from students. It works well if you always keep in mind what students are good at, and what you need (more things you know but may not always do). We've gotten some amazing results coming out of staff meetings with a few 'wish list' bits of work that are creative, ambitious, possibly slightly tangential to our core work, and nobody has the time to develop.  Draft a 1 page description, turn it over to the right set of graduate students, and magic can happen. If, however, you have a specific piece of work in mind and not enough capacity or resources to carry it off, bringing in student support is usually disastrous.

Since I'm now moving to the other side of the consultant / NGO fence, the first gripe I have with NGOs is not communicating enough. I know you're busy. And have a consultation process to go through. But please answer my emails. It's really important if I'm going to adhere to your timelines.

Pets and by-laws

Being on the body corporate of my block of flats has been a real learning experience. I am quite happy that in the two years since I've been in this building, I have managed to move for the terrified recipient of nasty notices about various unauthorized (and usually accidental!) transgressions, to being part of a largely amicable community of people trying to find the best ways of living together. So far, our biggest conundrum has been parking (which, being without a car, I may have a problematically unusual perspective on), but that's a post for a different day.

Todays dilemma is about pets - familiar territory for many people in flats, I'm sure. The general building policy is that dogs are not allowed in the building, and that owners may have one cat. However, in a particular case of rule jiggering, a new owner has just arrived with two small dogs. They are cute, and nobody seems inclined to boot them out. However, a request has come in for two more dogs in the same unit (both of which, we are led to understand, are very small and quiet). This led to research on pet ownership bylaws, and the discovery that only two dogs per 'dwelling unit' are technically allowed by the City of Johannesburg. I can only assume this is not widely enforced, and I would further imagine there are cases in which that's more restrictive than it needs to be; but there you have it, only two dogs without a permit. In the case of our block of flats, it makes sense - units are pretty small, and don't have gardens.

The matter gets more personal, however, since I recently lost custody of my cat, and am in the market for a new pet. I'm trying to make the decision based on as many factors as possible - new baby on the way, its Dad is a dog person, time and presence at home, flat rules, etc. I haven't gotten beyond the thinking phase yet, but candidates include a cat, small dog, chinchilla, and little pig. The little pig option has gotten me to explore more city bylaws around animal ownership. It seems as though the bylaws applying to pets that are not cats and dogs are in the health and safety regulations. These are geared to people raising animals as a larger scale enterprise......Which means as far as I can tell, you can only keep 2 dogs in a flat, but up to 9 chickens!!  Hmm.....

Spontaneous Pool Party

Yesterday, I was snatched by friends for a spontaneous trip to the swimming pool. I'm pretty amazed that I have friends that can supply, at precisely 6 minutes notice, a maternity swimming suit, beach towels, lawn chairs, umbrellas, and entertainment for little girls of varied swimming abilities. The Roosevelt Park swimming pool was my Johannesburg Discovery of the weekend. In the midst of gripes about home affairs and power cuts, it was a nice reminder that this city has an impressive array of public facilities that are exceptionally well maintained and well run. I just forget to take advantage of them sometimes.

The whole place was spotlessly clean and well maintained, it wasn't too crowded, everyone was very friendly, there were enough shady and sunny spots on the lawn to make everyone happy. And it was free!   These little hidden spaces are part of what makes this city wonderful.

Alternatives to the State

It seems like every few years, political scientists get excited about the idea that Somalia will provide a creative alternative to the nation state system. Chris Blattman outlines the debate in its current manifestation here. Ken Menkhaus,  Andrew Natsios and others had similar discussions in the late '90s, soon after the fall of the central government. Most people who thought Somalia might forge some new not-quite-nation-state path (noteably Ken Menkhaus, Hussein Adam, and Maria Brons, all experts on Somalia) subsequently revised their enthusiasm for this option; for very good reasons. You'd think that two decades of shockingly poor human development, if nothing else, would be a strong case for more conventional state; not less. The Somali people certainly aren't getting anything out of being on the cutting edge of international relations theory, and de Waal's suggestion of just funding the "vibrant middle class" seems out of touch with reality.

What I wonder is, why do political scientists so often turn to Africa when looking innovations in statehood? With its history of exploitation, colonialism, failed SAPS, unfair trade....is it any mystery that there are few examples of perfectly functioning states? It's nice that innovation does happen as a result of this severe malaise, but there are many other grey areas of state control. Why not look at a broader range of 'states on the brink of non-state'?  If we're looking for experiments in the nation-state system, I'd like to nominate Belgium as a first stop! They currently hold the world record for the elapsed time without an official government, beating out war torn Iraq. Why don't people talking about statecraft all look to Brussels?

(Why am I writing random blog posts about Somalia? I wrote my undergraduate thesis on it a decade ago. It's far from my research focus, but close to my heart. I harbour secret fantasies of retiring there with a herd of camels, some day when political stability has returned. )

Job search with a belly continues

With a baby on the way, I find myself in the very strange position of actually not knowing what I want to do professionally. It's definitely the first time in my life that a fast-paced, all consuming job seems like the wrong choice (even if financial stability and maternity leave would both be very nice!). The problem is, I've never seriously considered an alternative. I've suddenly found myself on the 'mommy track', and have never really thought about such an odd idea before....I think that's hindering a job search more than anything else. There are so many things that look perfect-but-not-right-now. Knowing that my life is about to change in unfathomable ways makes it very difficult to figure out what *is* right for now. I'm sure that comes across in interviews.

I'm not quite sure what the solution is, except to spend a few weeks in denial, baking a lot, trying not to worry too much, and hoping everything will become clear in time...

On a side note, the blob has opened its eyes now, and if I shine a flashlight on my belly, I can feel it lift its hands to cover its eyes. This is supposed to be bad for the eye development, so I won't make a habit of it, but it's almost as entertaining as shining a flashlight through geckos used to be when I was little. I think the amount of time I can spend watching my stomach jiggle is probably a sign that finding a job sooner rather than later would be better for my sanity. 

Nose bleeds, here and there.

Of all of the bizarre pregnancy symptoms, I've been having nose bleeds galore for the last few months. The most severe was in Nagpur, on a crowded railway platform when I was about to get on an overnight train. I must have looked quite pathetic - more luggage than I could manage, trying to figure out a complicated waitlisted e-ticket mess, and gushing blood. However, I could not have possibly imagined a more helpful response from everyone - the conductor immediately made sure I got the most comfortable seat in the house, cool-drink-wallahs gave me ice from their coolers, strangers waiting for the same train made sure I had a place to lie down and bought all of the nearby kiosks out of handkerchiefs, and once the train came, people whisked my luggage off to the right compartment, and checked regularly that I was settled in and comfortable.

I got another nosebleed today, while on a taxi. I was much better equipped this time around - on home turf, familiar transport, with tissues, and not nearly as serious a case. Even so, everyone on the taxi looked at me like I was a murder suspect. I got off and walked home. I suppose it's good that people have a healthy fear of contracting HIV....but what happened to compassion? It's pretty awful to be made feel even more miserable, when having nosebleeds seems like punishment enough.

#2: Summits are Not for Me

It impresses the pants off people to have passes to UN meetings, pictures with heads of state, rub shoulders with Bono, and other seemingly important things that come with the summiteering that's inevitable in global campaigning. It's widely accepted (but somehow not widely talked about) that successfully engaging at these summits is devilishly difficult, and very expensive. It's also an unfortunate reality that, even though it rarely provides results, it needs to be done just the same. These are the kinds of things that drive we evaluation people nuts - we know costs are high and results are limited, but the work must go on, even at the expense of more effective and cheaper work elsewhere. 

They're almost never the time and place decisions are made - outcome documents were usually negotiated ages before, and while there's occasional wiggle room at the actual summit, big breakthroughs usually happen much earlier in the process. 

They're designed to make public mobilization difficult. They're often held in inaccessible places, information about the logistics of the meeting is often released at the last minute, there are usually a gazillion side events taking place. It's almost inevitably an organizational nightmare. 

They're not a great place to get your message out. There are so many people doing so many different things, that even if there is consensus around your message, and  you're well resourced, well coordinated, and so on….your message is very likely to get lost in the noise. Plus, no matter how diligent the preparation, one recent global event (like the Greek debt crisis) often dominates discussions (and therefore press coverage).

So why bother? Partly because it impresses people, and can therefore contribute to organizational legitimacy. It's great to be able to tell funders you met with Ban ki Moon, and have speakers from your organization addressing the General Assembly. Partly, to be part of a club. This is where global campaigning organizations go, so it's where a lot of networking and outreach happens. International travel is expensive, so these events, when people are all face to face, are when a lot of important planning happens (even if it's often an afterthought). And partly because it's often the culmination of a lot of other more important work, and making space for that is important. You need to 'be seen' at global summits to be part of working groups and planning processes where more substantive work gets done. I wish everyone could frame them for what they are, though, and save all of the expensive, bedazzling media hubris. 

In spite of all the complaints I have about summits, I recently discovered that they do build useful skills; at a recent overcrowded and disorganized concert I went to with a colleague, we were super stars at figuring out which queues we needed to stand in for which tickets, and how to get access to the right sections of seating! 

5 reflections on 5 years in MDGs campaigning: #1

1. Success isn't necessarily what I thought it was.

It's just not sexy to say I'm working on evaluating the global coordination of national  civil society campaigns on the ratification of the optional protocol of the international covenant on economic and social rights. In comparison, my PhD research sounds riveting. Revolutions aren't inspired because a bunch of people read the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. Even people who are professionally immersed in the field don't keep track of every regional and thematic protocol and declaration. But, this is the level at which government commitments are made, so accountability starts there. Even for die hard policy wonks, it can be tedious wading through jargon and budgets to figure out what governments are actually going to do, and what can be done to influence it.

Somewhere, in the back of your head, you always know that all of these sub committees, statements, teleconferences, and working groups are supposed to mean something, in the real world, to people. There are occasional flashes of clarity, when your neighbor's daughter is going to be able to finish matric because the age of the child support grant has been extended, or the church around the corner can afford to offer a second free meal in the community each week because taxes on some basic foods have been reduced, and you realize this is why we all sit in meetings about MDG 1 and 2 progress….These moments are rare, and creating them is actually a specific kind of work. In addition to my 'actual' job, it's been virtually a second job to learn how to see, and reinforce why, the little bit that my organization does matters to people. 

Finally, policy change is often a gold standard in a campaign's effectiveness. It is great when it happens; it's hard to accomplish, and makes a convincing story. But it's not the only thing campaigns can achieve. It's really impressive to be able to say that Russia's health care system is now much more accessible to people with disabilities because of a campaign. It sounds less exciting to say that this campaign is one of the first times civil society in Russia has come together to advocate collaboratively on issues outside of each organization's technical specialty. This may turn out to be irrelevant; or, it could be far more important than a  specific policy change. We're not very good at measuring lots of things. That doesn't make them any more or less important. 

After these 5 years, I am finally confident in saying that we have done some amazing things to make the world a better place. This is in spite of a range of frustrating inefficiencies and mistakes along the way. But there are also times when I have to admit that we don't know what works; or, in fact, for various reasons can't do what works. Statements of solidarity are good for the morale of the people who issue them; sometimes they may do something more, sometimes not. Sometimes, stories about 'things that worked' come back to us; sometimes it feels like energy is being thrown into a void, and we don't know if efforts were wasted or not. As the resident monitoring and evaluation person, it has been my job to make sure we have structured ways of thinking about our impact, we know what our outcomes are and have evidence about how we can work most effectively to achieve various sorts of things. This has been important, and I think it's an area where knowledge is growing very, very quickly. But one thing I never would have thought I'd say five years ago, is that there are things it's okay to take on faith. Donor reporting happens in log frames, but outcomes happen in people's lives. That may not change the way I do my job, but it does change where my motivation comes from.