The Mercy Corps Blog

Blog Post Posted November 18, 2009, 11:31 am by Kate Dilley

The tenuous return

These are the raw materials for the roof and door of a hut that will house a once-displaced Acholi family as they return to their home village after years of war. Photo: Kate Dilley/Mercy Corps

Dennis, my driver and impromptu translator, and I walked through the resettlement site towards the grinding mill where we were going to talk with a Youth Empowerment Program beneficiary. We walked past so many huts and I couldn’t help but feel that the camp was too quiet for the number of homes in the area. There weren’t enough children playing or men and women working.

The camp felt eerily like a ghost town.

When we reached the grinding mill, we began to attract a crowd. Children gathered around us playing in the worn down foundation of a hut. Some of the children were naked, others in tattered dirty clothing. Some watched quietly, the curiosity clear on their faces as they crept closer to me and reached out to touch my bag or my skirt. Others played and laughed, oblivious to us, too busy engaged with their playmates to pay attention to the grownup discussion taking place.

We talked with program beneficiaries about life in the camps. Many people are leaving the camps and the resettlement sites for their home villages. The Acholi people or northern Uganda are farmers — they rely on the land for their subsistence. Life in the camps has decimated much of their traditional way of life. They long to be back in their home villages working their land with their own hands to earn a living and provide for their families.

While many people have returned home, the return is not always easy. Having spent so much time in the camps, many people may not know how to farm, or lack the tools or income to purchase tools. Others have lost their drive to be self-sustaining; they are used to the handouts from the aid organizations and are now dependent upon them for their survival.

The finished hut, with a straw roof and a door made from recycled cooking oil cans. Photo: Kate Dilley/Mercy Corps

A cease fire was brokered in mid-2006, but the effects of the conflict are still felt out in the villages. With no final peace deal, many are reluctant to say that the conflict has ended.

As people return home, most of them have to rebuild from the ground up. Their homes have been burnt, and the bush has encroached on their homesteads and gardens. Too many villagers find unexploded land mines out beyond the camps, leaving them dead or maimed. The combination of these challenges and fears creates a tenuous situation, at best, for return.

Despite the challenges and obstacles, many people are hopeful that their lives will soon return to normal. They look forward to getting back to their villages and their gardens. They hope that their children will continue studying in school. They see much opportunity for their lives in northern Uganda. I hope that those who closed the doors to their huts in the camps and have returned to their villages are safe and content to be back home.

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Blog Post Posted November 18, 2009, 9:11 am by Bija Gutoff

A fish cup of rice

Rice is a staple food in Liberia. But it's not easy for Liberians to fill their bowls or their bellies these days. Like poor people the world over, they've been slammed by the steep increases in food prices of the past couple of years.

Driving around the country, we do see rice for sale — in small shops and roadside stands and open air markets. I stop to talk to the vendors about what it costs.

A "fish cup" of rice now costs about 28 cents in Liberia's cities — three times what Liberians paid just four years ago. Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

This photo shows what Liberians call a "fish cup" or sometimes a "salmon cup" of rice — the empty sardine (or salmon or mackerel) can is the common unit of measure for a small purchase, perhaps enough for a family's meager meal. In the capital Monrovia, a fish cup of rice now costs about 28 cents. In the rural areas, a fish cup of rice costs half that much — about 14 cents.

Little as the amount is, it's three times what Liberians paid just four years ago. And the hike in the price of rice is just one of the factors that are causing people to go hungry. Liberia is among a handful of countries at the very bottom of the list of the world's poorest.

I've seen gut-wrenching evidence of the country's poverty in my travels this week. Even for a writer like me, it's hard to put in words.

But I've been haunted by my photo of the fish cup. It reminds me that you can measure suffering in these very real daily examples — and you can measure progress that way, too. Mercy Corps is working in tiny towns and villages around Liberia to help people grow more food, to fill their supper pots with more fish cups of rice today and, most important, to learn the farming techniques that will keep them supplied with fish cups long into the future.

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Blog Post Posted November 17, 2009, 1:38 am by Bija Gutoff

What the heck is infrastructure, anyway?

The jeep bounces hard over deep ruts, and strains to get a grip though thick, slick, sloshy gullies of mud. Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

When Mercy Corps talks about rebuilding infrastructure in a country ravaged by war, the words can sound abstract. What the heck is infrastructure?

Think of it as the body of a country: the roads are like bones, the electrical grid is like muscles, the communication and water systems are like veins and nerves. Each one gives the body an ability: to move, to work, to speak and listen, to make things happen. In Liberia, it's a body that's sorely damaged and gravely dysfunctional.

The cars they use here seem held together with gum and duct tape. Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

This is what happened to Liberia's roads after 14 years of conflict. This is not a remote village track. It's the main road to the villages of Gbarpolu County, in the north. The jeep bounces hard over deep ruts, and strains to get a grip though thick, slick, sloshy gullies of mud.

As I bump up and down, I think about how SUVs in the U.S. are used to haul groceries and get the kids to soccer practice. Here, an SUV would be genuinely useful. But local people don't have them. The cars they use seem held together with gum and duct tape.

People here say that road repair is a number-one priority. It's essential to all their goals and projects. In order to build anything, do anything, you have to be able to get there. I'm glad that Mercy Corps is helping to repair the roads and bridges that allow villagers to get their goods to market.

There's much more we can do to help bring this body back to life, so the Liberian people can get where they want to go.

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Blog Post Posted November 16, 2009, 6:50 am by Bija Gutoff

Every child should be in the picture

Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

In Parker Town, Gbarpolu County, in the north of Liberia where Mercy Corps has a number of agriculture programs, I rounded up these children for a group portrait.

I guided the older ones to stand in back and brought the smaller ones to the front. This everyday exercise, where we live (as a mother, how many times have I heard my own daughter or her friends grumble about the obligatory group photo?), seemed to be an entirely new experience for these kids.

Still, like children everywhere, they quickly got the idea, and a few were soon posing and posturing. Each child is so different. The thumbs-up boy in the blue t-shirt seemed a natural leader. The girl in the turquoise v-neck dress had an intensely frank and honest look about her. The one in bright green was so open and friendly. And the littlest ones, though a bit wary, were eager to take their place up front.

Every child wanted to be in the picture. And that's the way it should be: every child should be in the picture. Each one can grow up to make a contribution to Liberia's recovery, if they simply get the essentials: nutritious food, a decent education, a chance.

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Blog Post Posted November 15, 2009, 10:14 pm by Leah Hazard

A little here and there can add up to a lot

There are a lot of important ways to support Mercy Corps — from donations in the midst of an emergency to monthly givers who support our work all year long. But there are a lot of less obvious ways to support Mercy Corps that can add up to a whole lot — especially if all of our supporters get involved:

• Shop Amazon? Bookmark this link right now and use it every time you shop. We’ll receive 4% to 8.5% of the purchase price, depending on order volume.
• Shop Powells.com using this link and Mercy Corps will receive 7.5% of the purchase price.
• Cafegive allows you to purchase from a variety of online stores while donating a percentage of your purchase to support Mercy Corps’ work. Simply follow the instructions and choose Mercy Corps as your cause.
• Indonique Tea and Chai: 10% of every purchase of tea is donated to Mercy Corps to fund programs that positively impact the communities where their teas are picked.
• Coffee Bean International: Buy a pound of Cafe Aldea Nicaragua — a delicious single-origin coffee grown in the remote mountains of northern Nicaragua — and $2 will go to fund projects run by Mercy Corps' local partner.
• Purchase sustainable apparel from Rahzo and select Mercy Corps upon checkout to receive a donation for your purchase.

Share the links with family and friends. They can help the Mercy Corps mission just by remembering us as they shop. I can’t help but think if all Mercy Corps supporters remembered did this, the impact could be huge.

**Updated: I forgot to mention our partnership with NAU. Nau.com is a key Mercy Corps supporter. From 11/24 through 12/01, Nau will offer customers 30% off merino wool and wool sweaters while directing 10% of sales to their Partners for Change, including Mercy Corps. The promo code is "GIVE".

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Blog Post Posted November 15, 2009, 4:30 am by Bija Gutoff

Grow what you eat, eat what you grow

Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

It's so lush here, it's seems like every plant would grow, and grow hearty, all on its own. But of course, like anything, there's an art and a science to successful agriculture. To get the highest yields from their crops and gardens, Liberian farmers are learning new techniques from Mercy Corps.

We visited a demonstration garden in Vaye Town, Gbarpolu County, where women and men are making their own compost, seasoning it with a touch of a local plant that naturally repels nematodes and using it to mulch their vegetables. They're getting more sweet potatoes by planting a single spud in each mound.

They've also learned to plant each kind of vegetable – cassava, corn, okra, cowpeas (beans) and groundnuts (peanuts) – in its own row or mound, so they can create and monitor the conditions in which it grows best.

In a land this fertile, it makes sense to focus on agriculture as the main development vehicle, as "President Ellen" has done. Mercy Corps is working with Liberian farmers to coax their next meal – and all the meals of their future – out of the ground.

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Blog Post Posted November 14, 2009, 3:17 am by Bija Gutoff

These children play with nothing, anything, everything

Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

Today the palaver (meeting) hut was full of children as we began our visit to Parker Town, Gbarpolu County, Liberia. In fact, I think there were more children than adults. They followed us around as we toured the village, by turns curious and boisterous and cranky and shy, just like children everywhere. The little boy in this photo that I've posted here kept catching my eye and grinning. A couple of times he ducked behind the post, then popped out with his huge sparkling grin, delighted with that small bit of peek-a-boo.

What makes these children smile? One of the few "toys" I saw was an old, retired cassava grater that had been reimagined as a tiny car. With a bit of string, this tin can has managed to fire a small child's imagination.

What does it take to fire ours? I watch these children who have so little, and I'm amazed again and again at the ease of their smiles. Just a little shy at first, they glom onto me as soon as I reach out my hand or crouch down to say hello. Each one offers a handshake, a grin, or a tummy awaiting a tickle. They touch my hair, my arm, my camera bag, my pants. They jostle to get closer.

An old cassava grater, re-imagined by local children as a tiny toy car. Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

I want people to know about Liberia and, more important, to care about Liberia. The women and men I have met are warm and friendly. Greetings are important: each person takes the time to shake hands, offer the traditional "How da body?" or its local dialect equivalent, to look me in the eyes and smile and say, "You are welcome here."

It's a more sincere connection than I often encounter back home, and I'm struck that we could learn a thing or two about courtesy and respect from the Liberian people.

The land itself is lush and green. The coconuts and bananas and papayas and "pam" (palm) nuts evidence a natural abundance that could help transform people's lives. Here, amid grinding poverty, the women and men are working hard to learn new and better ways of supporting themselves through farming, business skills and education.

Bit by bit, they're getting stronger. But they desperately need our help. My notebook is full of sights, sounds and impressions, and I'm eager to share them with you in hopes that you'll begin to care about these lively, lovely people.

But when I saw this boy's smile, I wanted to do everything I can to help.

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Blog Post Posted November 13, 2009, 1:56 pm by Bija Gutoff

'How da body?'

Photo: Bija Gutoff/Mercy Corps

Pounding rain, deep red mud...and a hundred smiles.

We've been bouncing over the worst roads I've ever seen. Adolphus, our driver, seems to think he's at the Indy 500. If another car tries to pass him, he speeds up — in the broiling heat, I've kept the window down (the AC is broken), but I've learned to roll it up really fast when a huge muddy puddle looms...or when another car passes.

We are visiting villages so poor, the children literally have nothing to do. There are no toys, no books, no games, not much to eat.

As a mother, it's hard to see poverty so deep. I hug and tickle and make funny faces at every child I see. Their initial shyness disappears in an instant. Liberians are friendly people, and as soon as you offer the expected greeting — "How da body?" — they instantly relax into a warm, open greeting.

Everywhere I look, there are children laughing and playing. You wonder, how is this possible? And yet it's just the spirit this desperately poor country needs to be able to recover from the brutal war years.

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Blog Post Posted November 12, 2009, 10:27 am by Bija Gutoff

Cocoa, arm wrestling and opportunity

Annie Garfree, mother of six children, is participating in a Mercy Corps cocoa farming program so she can earn more money and provide for her family. Photo: Nancy Farese for Mercy Corps

Annie Garfree has six children, three daughters and three sons. Only her boys are currently in school. But she's eager to make sure all of them get an education.

Annie is a farmer who's learning new methods of planting, growing and harvesting so she can earn more money and provide for her family. She's one of 25 farmers participating in a Mercy Corps program on a cocoa farm that was started by our Phoenix Fund. More than half of the farmers in this program, and in Liberia in general, are women. President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf has called agriculture the main engine of Liberia's economic development. Mercy Corps is helping Annie and other Liberian women farmers meet their country's own goals by becoming more successful farmers.

I sat with Annie under a tree in the cocoa nursery, talking about her life and cocoa farming. First, she had to rehabilitate the land — clearing the dense undergrowth called "brushing" here in Liberia — with a machete. Then she had to dig out the roots. It's grueling labor, and Annie is tiny, about five feet tall and as lean as a sapling. But she's strong.

I hold up my arm next to hers and challenge her to a mock arm-wrestle, and we both burst out laughing. Before even starting, it's clear who the winner would be.

Annie just got her first batch of cocoa seedlings. She carried the plants to her farm, about a half-hour walk from the Mercy Corps nursery. There, she's learning planting techniques like how to plant banana trees between the rows of cocoa seedlings. The bananas provide necessary protection from the sun while the cocoa plants are getting established, as well as a much-needed cash crop for farmers like Annie until the cocoa trees begin bearing fruit.

"For a long time," says Annie, "I had no hope. Now, with the seedlings from Mercy Corps, and the training I'm getting, I'll be able to pay tuition to send my children to school."

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Blog Post Posted November 11, 2009, 10:26 pm by Kate Dilley

What is public health?

One of the things that people often ask is "What is public health?" I used to say, "everything," without much conviction.

As a public health professional I have always been interested by issues that directly affect people's health. In my graduate coursework, this often meant talking about vaccination campaigns for polio and measles, vitamin and micro-nutrient supplementation including iodized salt and vitamin A, and of course access to clean drinking water and primary health care services. Coming to northern Uganda, I thought that I would be most intrigued by these topics.

Yesterday on a trip to the field, we stopped and inspected school latrines and road construction. While at the school (constructed out of tree branches and a thatched roof with UN tarps over it), I heard a little bit about the very successful child to child education campaign that Mercy Corps conducted along with the latrines. It seems to have provided the children — and, through them, their families — with impressive sanitation knowledge. As we stood at the handwashing stand, two children came to use the latrines and both washed their hands thoroughly, without being reminded. They also had to push through a big group of adults to get to the stand, which they did.

Mercy Corps Youth Program Intern Kate Dilley (standing on pile of dirt, digging) lends a hand to build a road in northern Uganda. Photo: Mercy Corps Uganda

We moved on to look at the road that is being built by the livelihoods team. As we stood on one of the bridges, I was told that this road had been completely constructed by Mercy Corps — it had previously just been bush. The road is just about two cars wide, raised with channels running along the sides to drain water in the rainy season, and constructed out of murrum (gravel like soil selected for its stability). As we drove down a (mostly) smooth road for almost 20 kilometers, I kept thinking about the potential for this road — increased opportunity for jobs and trading of goods, making it easier for students to get to school, and easier to transport people and supplies for improved medical care in the area.

For people to be in good health, so many things must be in place. Without access to proper water and sanitation there is no good health. No roads means no access to medical care. Poor agriculture means no food, let alone a balanced diet including fruit and vegetables. And conflict and disaster means a drastic lifestyle change which can lead to poor mental health.

Mercy Corps is working to address all of these issues, in addition to others in its work around the world.

My view of improving people's health used to be so narrow. Like any good learning experience, my time in Uganda has helped me better understand the complexities of life and the issues and challenges that must be addressed in order to "alleviate suffering, poverty and oppression by helping people build secure, productive and just communities."

In northern Uganda, Mercy Corps is achieving their mission, and I am now further convinced that public health is, in fact, EVERYTHING.

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