Day in the Life – "in the field"

That means "out of town".

Night before: spend 10 minutes packing because you’re never totally unpacked, so it’s easy to throw in a few pieces of clean clothing and be ready.

Wake up early for an early departure. Debate whether it’s worth it to drink coffee and have to hold it until you can find a public toilet along the journey. Choose coffee anyway because of that one time you got a caffeine withdrawal headache when you didn’t.

If you choose to travel by boat, get to the port by 6:45am.  It’s most fun to take a moto.

If you choose to take the Land Cruiser, leave the house at 7:30am.

Have I written about crossing the border yet? That’s such a fun part of life here! (*SARCASM!!!) If you’re heading south, travel through Rwanda, which requires leaving Congo (filling out a form, sweet talking immigration officer, hoping he’ll be nice and not try to delay you in hopes of getting something), entering Rwanda (waiting in line for awhile and getting a stamp), changing money into Rwandan Francs, driving 45 minutes on nice Rwandan roads then leaving Rwanda (line and stamp again), entering Congo (getting in line and waiting a long time while the immigration officer writes down all the details of your foreign passport while everyone behind you gets impatient). And I am leaving out all the details about how you have to walk through the pedestrian entry to the bridge or else you’ll get berated, even if there are no cars approaching from the car entrance; taking your bags to get searched when you enter Rwanda because they’re looking for smuggled plastic; and walking by a “health officer” who points a “thermometer gun” at you inevitably letting you through, even if you are really sick.

Okay, so three to six (to thirteen) hours later, you arrive at the destination. If you traveled by boat, you have to deal with immigration officers, even though you didn’t leave the country, but they’ll still try to find something wrong with your documents. First stop is almost always the hotel to drop off bags, clean up and maybe rest then find food.

We eat a lot of local food while we’re in the field, and I almost always love it. Except one time when I got a fish bone caught in my throat and was trying to swallow a half a banana without chewing to wash it down or chewing only three times peanut butter crackers (that I’d been hoarding since we arrived) and trying to swallow to wash it down. I love fish, cooked greens (any kind), cabbage, beans, goat, and fufu (called nshima in Zambia, it’s the maize meal cooked to a consistency where you eat a “lump” and make it into little balls to scoop up your other food.)

After that, I usually just hold onto my hat and follow Serge around because I’m a lot less helpful on the field. French is for administration and office work. Swahili is the language most used on field visits, and white people are mostly used to attract attention and requests for money. Occasionally we are also used to scare children when their mothers whisper things about mzungus in their ears as we walk by.

We meet with partners and Seeders and go see their projects. Serge and I always try to sit down with just the Seeder to give them an opportunity to tell us about anything that’s not working well or to deal with finances or talk other “Seed program” details.

Wherever we are, Serge knows people, so he usually goes out in the evening to socialize, and I stay in the hotel, trying to avoid attention and curiosity of other hotel guests or staff or people passing on the street.

Despite the sarcastic tone of this blog post, I really enjoy being on the field, getting to see our Seeders where they are in their element, and interacting with beneficiaries of some good projects. I don’t get to see the positive results of our programs often enough, so I like seeing, smiling, (not so much smelling). Sometimes I feel like a proud mama hen watching her chicks as they become all independent. We’re usually on the field a week or so of every month, if there is a usual.