Sylvia's Journal

We are in the basement of the ministry, five women and eight men. This is the first of many suprises to follow. Imagine that, more than a third of the team consists of women. I don’t think I have seen this before (in Afghanistan), especially not at this level. Aside from the electricity being on 24/7, this too is a sign of progress, much better actually. I congratulate them. Some men say it is not good enough, and that they need more. Bless them.

The top leadership of the general directorate is not with us – called out to solve a crisis in one of the provinces and then in another. This is the bane of senior leaders’ existence. In hindsight we should have cancelled the event because of this. After all, how can you build a team when the head of the team is not there?

We try to make the best of this situation by focusing people’s attention on the crisis that is around the corner (swine flu). People usually don’t deal with crises that are around the corner because the ones that have already rounded the corner and are in full view demand all their attention. They pull everyone away from the center, each director doing his own thing as best as he (she) can, with always the risk that action in parallel creates new problems that could have been avoided when done in concert. People know they should be doing things differently but there is a sense of frustration and powerlessness to change this dynamic. I had an experience of total immersion in this situation to remind me that things seen from the inside are always more daunting than when seen from the outside.

We wait for about 45 minutes before people trickle in before we start, without anyone’s blessing. That is not how things are done here. I am going along with Harrison Owen’s principles that say ‘whoever is there is the right person’ and ‘it starts when it starts.’ Later in the day I come to doubt the former of these two.

My Afghan colleague is facilitating the event because when I talk in English everything needs to be translated for a few of the participants who cannot follow me. Also, I find that when I talk everyone becomes very quiet. So doing the event in Dari seems better – everyone is very animated and engaged. But since I don’t have anyone who can translate I have no idea what they are talking about. It’s a leap of faith I have to make. It’s a leap that I usually make with some confidence. We went over the design in the car driving across town and my colleague says he is fine with it and with being the solo facilitator. I have seen him do this many times and know he can do it; he is a good facilitator. He is comfortable challenging people in ways that are not commonly practiced, especially at these levels.

I watch him as he talks about vision and influence. Everyone is listening spellbound. For a few this is not new, yet they are attentive as if this is the first time they hear about the topic. For others this is entirely new material.

After that I am not sure where things are going because the temporary translator I had by my side is called to be a note taker. It’s a perfect example of planning one thing and then another need arises that pulls someone off one task and puts him or her on another. In between his writing I catch a few translations, forcing him to multi-task and pay attention to me, the facilitator and to what everyone is saying. This is the challenge and this is the work.

A young female doctor who is a trainer at the public health institute joins us. Her name is Shakile which I am told means shapely. She facilitates some of the conversations and I coach her form the sidelines. I notice when she facilitates that all the men talk right over her. She does not stop them and it becomes a little chaotic. As a young woman she cannot easily confront the group, especially the male directors, and ask for only one conversation at a time. Later I hear that her facilitating was bothering some of the older men. I never quite know whether we should give in to this wish to remove all younger females or let them get used to this because eventually they realize that facilitating is not the same as being a resource person or expert. The young woman has good instincts about facilitation and is thirsty for coaching like a sponge.

The design is slipping away as we start to zigzag, following comments from participants that first take us here, then there. I can tell people are starting to lose sight of the path, that wasn’t very clear to begin with. First it is body language and then they actually speak out.

I am afraid we may have lost some credibility – the design is too loose, too fluid as if we don’t know what we are doing (and maybe this is true). I feel rather helpless on the sidelines, not being able to engage directly with the participants, nor understanding the logic of the emergent design. I call the office and ask for a translator, dedicated to stay by my side for the entire day, with no other task than helping me understand what people are saying.

The executive assistant of our project director shows up within half an hour. By now we are fully off the rails. Here, as with the previous team we worked with, the earlier communication with one part of the ministry contributed to the confusion as they were led to believe that this was a training course. We are experiencing first hand this communication problem everyone talks about and the consequences of having centrifugal senior leaders.

It is good that I expected surprises, but there are more than I expected. Over lunch I find out that the session is supposed to stop at 2:30 and I am beginning to wonder about the utility of another day with this team. Can we put the process back on the rails?

We leave with our heads bowed down. It is a humbling experience to fail like this. People are coming back tomorrow morning. I feel the pressure to have something to show then, in exchange for the time they will have invested in this confusing exercise. Invest in what? We made little progress with the swine flu exercise because the chief expert in the country is meeting with someone from our own project while we wait and wait, and finally disband. This is of course rather embarrassing because it speaks of our own miscommunication and mal coordination – a symptom we are supposed to treat.

I arrive home before anyone else and get myself a softdrink in order to – as per the advertisement – ‘sink myself into fruity refreshment!’ – it’s just what I need now.