Milennium Village Project

I just returned from the states a few days ago and was scolded for not writing enough in this blog. I have to be honest I didn't think anyone was reading it and so I opted for neglect. But I am newly encouraged and always cognizant that memories and experiences (and stories most of all) will be lost if I don't write them here.

Also since I returned from the state I got a new perspective on some of the goings-on around town. Like Jeffery Sachs and the Millennium Village Project (MVP). Sachs has hit on the socially cool and conscious crowds like the iPhone hit hipsters and so I have to weigh in. One of Sachs' "Millennium Development Villages" is actually a regional collective of villages whose eastern-most reaches are a mere 15k from where I live in Louga. I won't go into the details of the project here, mainly since the undertaking is so broad and nebulous that i could not explain in concisely. But you can check it out on the site, or read about it, well anywhere lately. Or you can check out anybody in Hollywood that happens to be wearing the t-shirt.

A few volunteer friends and I had the opportunity to visit several of the work sites a few weeks ago, graciously guided by one of the project's technical agents. We visited massive agricultural plots built into the rich dunes of the Niayes region, an area that cultivates the large majority of Senegal's produce. Our agent guide explained that onion production in the area has doubled since the outset of the project just 1 year ago, allowing sales of the onions to extend to the distant market of Diaobé in the south.

As we toured far-flung villages we occasionally came across farmers making their way to an MVP meeting to receive new instruction on rainy season gardening and additional seed. The farmers knew our guide and driver and vice versa. Often the men in their long robes and conical, broad-rimmed hats climbed into the truck bed for a ride to the next village. Twice we spotted camels grazing on spiny acacia and one we found ourselves mired in sand. One particularly harrowing path bore our hurtling SUV through vegetable fields bordered with cactus. The path was wide enough only for a donkey cart and it would have been an uncomfortable ride even for the donkey. When we piled out of the car shaken and breathless, the car was striped with hairline scratches, smudges of pink from the cactus fruits and the occasional branch or thorn. I had to wonder if much of the MVP's money is lost to car repairs and paint jobs.

The school at which we had arrived had already closed for lunch but before we left the car we already saw school teachers, children and the village chief racing up the hill towards us. Everyone knew it was a visit from MVP and everyone wanted to be present. The group showed us their new classrooms and toilets, courtesy of MVP, which replaces the straw and tin shelters which previously housed the single classroom on the hill. The school's two teachers were present, neither of them older than myself, and we witnessed their precise French lessons written on the board. The second teacher did evening adult literacy education for local women in Pulaar, their native tongue. The group present was extremely proud of the progress they had made, but at the same time the teachers and village chief knew they needed to seize the opportunity to expound on what was still lacking while they had us in front of them. the resulting discussion was more than a little awkward for myself and the other volunteers who had nothing to offer and no influence or background knowledge in the MVP's work, but it was nonetheless an opportunity to learn how well the MVP really works. The water supply for the school was no good, they said. It came out of the pipes bright orange and could not be used to drink or to irrigate crops. Then came out other requests-- the students had no school books and the schools benches had not yet arrived. This all hints at the possibility of a litany of holes in the MVP approach, which attempts to address every physical need with apparently less attention to sustainability, education and capacity building. At the same time, I have learned to become very skeptical and critical of what people ask for before I try to provide it.

I haven't entirely decided whether the MVP will be effective or not (although i seriously doubt it can achieve all that it portends to in the few short years of its duration). But I've broken it down into some pros and cons.

Pros:
1) MVP uses quasi-local professionals to administer the projects. These individuals understand the local language and culture better than any American could.
2) MVP works from the ground up. Local and regional governments are bogged down in bureaucracy.
3) MVP focuses on building financial stability for the region first. By showing local populations that there is money to be earned, they are bound to have good participation.

Cons:
1) The project lasts only a few years, after which its investments will fizzle, or not. It is not clear if an emphasis has been made on local sustainability.
2) MVP appears to do a lot of giving, sometimes without the necessary trainings and public education that is needed. Sometimes this glut of offerings creates dependency and expectations that help will always fall from the sky.
3) In the rush to build and produce it seems that some basic needs have been overlooked, like potable water in the village we visited.

I'd love to hear your thoughts and experiences with the MVP (especially those of you who are on the ground working with the projects). I think I would still put my money with MVP, they have been generous and ambitious about fixing problems. But I have my reservations.

All my best!