Sylvia's Journal

Just as I was wondering whether this would be a trip where I would not encounter the usual ‘getting stuck in the mud,’ experience. Everything, in spite of constant adjustments and adaptations to a different context than the one for which the leadership program was designed, had gone well.

But then we did get stuck in the mud last night; at the same place where people usually get stuck in the mud: articulating a specific measurable result to which the district and regional teams will be (and are willing to be) held accountable 6 to 8 months hence and the notion of an indicator – the two often confused.

The problem usually is that even the facilitators don’t master the material well and the experts in monitoring and evaluation have a tendency to complicate things. In addition, the process of starting at the end is entirely new – the habit is to set a broad goal and then make a list of activities, state what these activities will accomplish (usually based more on opinions or past practice than on evidence and science). This is the plan. It is submitted and then people go back to work.

In our approach it is an iterative process with changes happening each time people learn something more, about their assumptions, about their baseline, about cause-effect relationships. In the usual planning cycles there is no time for this and so we end up with plans that tend to be the same from year to year with very little learning. We hope to change this but change is hard.

Some of the facilitators are getting it and they are my allies. Others are still in the mud. It was warm and sticky as we tried to wade to the other side of the proverbial river; the electricity went out multiple times; we had already worked for 12 hours non-stop and there were many of us with lots of opinions. Fingers crossed as we enter the last day.

With about 50 people squeezed into our awkward space, we launched yesterday the usual way – a speech, settling in and questions about ‘the modalities,’ which means ‘how much money are you going to give us for being here and having you train us.’ Over the weekend I read an article about the origins of per diem and payments to the so-called beneficiaries of development projects; if only people had known how this practice would transform ‘opportunity’ into ‘entitlement.’

There are less than a handful of women in the group; and those who are there are there because in our invitations to the districts we insisted they bring teams of 4, 2 men and 2 women. The women tend to be lower in the hierarchy and thus either not available at the management level or not considered for such plum opportunities away from their posts.

My courageous trainees did fabulous, all of them better than yesterday. I know they studied and worked hard to master the material, never mind the facilitation techniques. All of them are introducing methods that are entirely new to the participants. This makes me wonder, once again, what happens in all the other trainings that are taking place all over Africa and which have created such an anti-training sentiment. If after 30 years of doing experimental training based on andragogy, this is still new, I think ‘anti-training’ is entirely justified. The training is not producing its results because it is poorly designed and executed.

The session that made people wonder most, rolling their eyes and remaining firmly implanted in their comfort zones was the one about personal mission and vision. Only a few men and most of the women picked up on it. They participated so enthusiastically that I suspect this is the first time they were taken seriously about something that matters and that isn’t ‘professional.’

The days are long, 14 hours at least for the facilitators. Towards the end of the day the exhausted room’s aircos were not able to manage the body heat of 50 people and sweat dribbled down my face. Yet my training team hung in there and so I did too.

My colleague Rose and I enjoyed our third mango (and beer) party, which has now become a ritual. We relax and talk until it is time for me to prepare the facilitator supports for the next day.

We spent all of yesterday with the core team of facilitators – reviewing the program in the morning and then practice sessions followed by feedback in the afternoon. The enthusiasm is quite amazing. It is not often that I work with government officials who arrive early and stay late, making 12 hour days. They are taking on sessions and teaching about concepts that they are still discovering themselves. They will be just a step or so ahead of the participants. One of the two regional directors whose districts will be in the program has entirely cleared his agenda. Both he and another high level official from the central government are fully present all the time.

The room setup is far from ideal. The room is filled to capacity with a huge oval made from gleaming tables that are immovable. The chairs are bulky and there are not enough for the number of participants we expect so we have to put regular chairs in the narrow strip that runs along the center of the oval. The floor is covered with extension cords holding other extension cords holding other extension cord and on and on. I suspect all of this goes into one socket.

Along both sides of the room are theatre chairs, bolted to the floor which, in their up position, leaves some space to pass from back to front, but when filled will not. There are few wall surfaces we can hang things on, even if we remove the giant pictures which reveal scary electrical outlets and dust from centuries. There are many large shiny and tasseled curtains in front of the windows and doors. It is not the most difficult place I have done workshops in but it will be a challenge.

Today will be yet another trust fall although less scary than the previous ones during this trip. Now I know the facilitators and that they are fully engaged. They want to succeed as much as I want them to, maybe even more. This has become their program and they have made promises to the big bosses and so, as one participant said, nous n’avons pas droit d’erreur. For me that is a bit stark, as mistakes are bound to happen, but, globalement, as people love to say here, we are on the right path and there will be results if we continue this way. Of that I am sure.

What started as a rather stiff meeting, following all the usual protocol, a near tangible fear to move off the beaten path, made place for a room full of energetic people wanting to show how much they want things to change. This is the predicament here. As one of the participants told me over lunch, we are so used to certain ways, and it is so difficult to break out of it, even if we want to. Indeed, I see this over and over. There is a lot of fear to challenge prevailing norms in the here and now but when we talk about a then or there, everyone is brave.

The intent of our ‘alignment’ meeting today was to create a buzz and get the support of the superiors of what will happen in the two regions where we are launching our leadership program. In a way it was also a test run for the newly formed ministry facilitators. I believe we accomplished everything and may be even more. The facilitators did a dynamite job, pretty much running the show with me doing only the shared vision as I knew that one was a bit too far out of the ordinary.

And then we set of for the interior, a 100 or so kilometers north east of the capital, to the town of Adzope which I can only remember because it sounds like a sleep medicine or an antidepressant.
We are lodged in a small country hotel which, to my surprise, claimed to have wifi (pronounced wee-fee in French), but of course not now. Luckily my dangle works well.

Everyone in the hotel is watching either a Brazilian or a Lebanese soap opera; the Lebanese with many tears coming out of very well made up eyes (no smudges) and the Brazilian seems to be about triangle relationships – all dubbed in French.

The waitress in the hotel made no move towards us when we sat down in the restaurant and kept watching the TV. We asked if we could eat there. She shook her head in the affirmative but didn’t get up. I asked if she was one in charge of the restaurant and she nodded yes again, without letting her eyes wander from the TV. I asked what was for dinner and she listed a few things. My colleague asked for a menu; reluctantly she got up and fetched a one page menu. I asked what was actually available: fish and chicken, peas and potatoes. She sat down again.

My colleague had brought two very large and ripe mangoes. We asked the listless restaurant (manager? Waitress? Cook?) to bring us a plate and a knife. Maybe she was relieved that we simply ate our own mango meal and didn’t ask her to do anything that would take her away from the TV. We decided to stick with our mangoes and consider that our meal. I asked her whether we could have mangoes for breakfast (we are in full mango season and they are everywhere) and she said no, we couldn’t have mangoes for breakfast, resuming her watch. The concept of customer service has not arrived here.

The weekend was boring, except for a brief interlude on Sunday with a colleague from the Johns Hopkins project who rescued me from the hotel and took me to a nice sandwich place in another part of town.

I swam a little in the pool, read a little, and caught some typos in the documents we need for our work for next week. I also sent the wrong document to my colleague and kicked myself a few times for that after she spent much time on her Saturday off fixing what had already been fixed in another version. I caught up on emails and complied with requests from HR to prepare our annual performance reviews.

I now have a little gadget that plugs into my computer and allows me access the internet wherever I am. It has been a godsend and for the first time in two weeks I can count on being connected. But really, how much time cans I sit in front of a computer, connected or not.

Watching TV has not added to my enjoyment as all channels show the same misery. And so I read (about the 1918 Influenza), do jigsaw puzzles on my iPad and read parts of the New York Times I usually don’t have time for; all this interrupted by meals. It’s very much like a long plane ride.

But tomorrow things will pick up and next week will, no doubt, race by as we go from one event to another requiring much coaching and encouraging of my brand-new team here. They will have to sail onwards on their own after I leave next Saturday.

I checked out the conference room we will occupy tomorrow. The gentleman who showed me the room, and helped me re-arrange the furniture, told me when we were done that he wasn’t sure this would actually be the room we would use. Hmmm. When I tried to get back to my hotel room the elevator refused to take me up and I needed a new room key.

In short, the only thing going for the Novotel is its buffet breakfast. I imagine that once business picks up here (I heard today there are plans to renovate this part of town) they either have to bring in a new management team, drop a few stars or wither away. I am not coming back, not even for the breakfast.

I left my small Chinese multi-socket plug in Grand Bassam with the hotel’s electrician. It had stopped working and I had asked him to take a look inside. It has travelled with me around the world since I first bought it somewhere in Africa light years ago.

He returned the thing to me saying it was very dangerous and there was no point in fixing it as the fuse was gone. I left it with him with the thick wire and the plug by way of payment for his services.

This morning I walked around the Plateau in search of a new item because most of the time I stay in hotels that have only one outlet and I have a phone (sometimes two), a computer and an iPad so I need more than one place to plug these things in.

The Plateau is (or maybe was) the commercial center of Abidjan. It was badly damaged during ‘les evènements,’ a popular euphemism in the francophone world for civil war. It hasn’t recovered and feels like a dead zone. The pavements and roads are in very bad shape and the shops are either shuttered or occupied by companies, many Lebanese, which sell electrical household items from fridges and airconditioners to mixers and toasters. I found another ‘multi-prise’ which is also made in China and is not grounded but it will have to do.

In the meantime I am trying to figure out how this Novotel dares to claim 5 stars. It is among the sketchiest five stars I have ever been in. The internet is wobbly, at best; the rooms don’t get cleaned unless you call housekeeping (no housekeeping cart in sight all day); laundry service takes three days; staff argues with you when you don’t understand something; the elevators date back to the 50s, the floor is covered with a yucky carpet (moquette); there are burn holes on the couch in my non-smoking room, the refrigerator cube can barely hold a large water bottle, no massage or pedi/manivures available, a tiny store that is never (wo)manned and a reception that cannot find my reservation. On top of that it is located in a derelict part of town. Yet the prices are similar to the fancy hotel Manila which, if we could extend stars, I would have given 10.

On Monday, after we have completed our alignment meeting we will travel into the interior, some 100+ kilometers north east from Abidjan to complete the fourth and last of my assignments. I don’t have any expectations about my lodging but wouldn’t mind being surprised.

We spent today (Friday) planning and practicing the various sessions we will conduct on Monday to launch the leadership program with stakeholders at the central level. We want their benediction and also create a bit of a buzz. We used the model that is central to our leadership program, the challenge model, to design the event, giving the brand new facilitators from the ministry of health another chance at practicing what they learned earlier in the week.

They are brave souls, taking on sessions that they would not have expected to run in their wildest dreams only a week ago. After lunch we had ‘micro-facilitation’ sessions which we applauded and then critiqued with a view to making them better.

I put the finishing touches on the slides with instructions so that we don’t have to make too many flipcharts as the number of invitees is high (50). This will be a bit of a management challenge.

And while I was doing this I watched French TV which, probably like any other station, showed one horrendous catastrophe after another. I can see why people sometimes think the world is going to hell in a hand basket – you would if you watch TV all the time: Afghanistan, Ukraine, Iraq, Korea, Abudja, Syria, South Sudan – all terrible stories of woe and terror, nastiness and incompetence. Luckily I know of many more instances where goodness wins the day and people focus on making the world a better place. There are always more of those than the nasties or incompetents.

Assignment two of the four is completed and I am halfway through. We have been wading through ambiguity, confusion and some angst and have come out a little wiser and clearer. The people from the ministry and my MSH colleagues have now a better sense of what this LDP+ things is and are about to take on real assignments as opposed to the practicum sessions we did all day yesterday.

We went from a baseline, taken on Monday morning, with nothing more than a 1.5s on a 10 point scale and ended with a few 6s and 7s. I think that may have been a bit overconfident but it is a move in the right direction. It’s the confidence that counts now as it allows for trying. Mastery will come later.

We drove back late in the afternoon to Abidjan listening to American Country music on the request of my fellow passenger who is learning English that way. “I hope you are happy baby after what you’ve put me through,’ accompanied the view of ramshackle houses and eating places and a thousand skinny palm trees. The trip that took just over 30 minutes in the other direction took about 2 hours this time and would probably have taken longer if it had been raining, which it did a lot yesterday.

Tomorrow is a holiday, as it is in most of the world. This is a much wanted break from being on all the time. It is what happens when you travel alone. But it’s not a day of rest for me as I have to complete the revision of the French documents that we will be using from tomorrow on. It is the most tedious and stressful work for me – checking words on pages – as it requires a particular set of neural connections in my brain that is not well developed, weak or simply obstructionist.

The hotel in Abidjan didn’t know I was coming and my travel documents turned out to be incomplete and dated wrongly. There were rooms, but what rate to give me when USAID was not on the list? It is rather amazing to see the price range for one single room depending on who you work for.

The rooms on the ‘view’ side are more expensive than the ones on the other side that look at the Plateau’s other buildings. I splurged and took a room with a view. The first things that you see is a gas station and then something that looks like a hangar with Coco Cola painted all over it. But then the view gets nice as I look out over Abidjan’s Lagon with its palm trees and interesting architecture across the water.

I had a beer in a bar full of overweight expat business men, most watching a football (soccer) game and cheering loudly when good things happened. Since nothing on the menu caught my eye I picked the buffet which left me, as these always do, stuffed and bloated. I will be smarter tomorrow. Bedtime 9 PM.

Although I had prepared a rough schedule for the three day training of trainers, about 10 minutes into the day it was clear I had to do something quite different from what I had planned. There were lots of questions and unknowns that needed to be addressed before we could move. And so we did.

We also didn’t fit in the hotel room reserved for us and moved when we realized we were too cramped. Luckily the hotel had another room, with capitonized doors that suggests secrets are revealed inside.

I went along with the stiff U-shape for the day but at the end of the day we took all the skirts off and tomorrow we will sit in a circle. Encouraged by my daughter, I am starting to do away with tables.

The work of our project here takes place within a decentralized context. This has implications for just about everything. We explored the adjustments that we had to make in order to fit the context. It is both a strength of our program and a headache for people like me – because it calls for some quick on your feet thinking.

Nevertheless, I think we had a good start. I returned to my room instead of having another chance at eating at a maquis. I am well aware that tomorrow’s program, as designed, is no longer valid and needs to be adjusted. So I order a ‘petit Flag’ a regional brand of session beer which was replaced here by a ‘Bock’ but not the dark brown variety and set out to revamp everything I had planned. It’s improv time!

I arrived at the airport of Ouaga too early – the uniformed man wouldn’t let me in because the Air Burkina post wasn’t manned yet. I sat down on a wobbly set of chairs that moved, en masse, forward or backward depending on the other persons in the row. And then things started to move.

I had waited the suggested 45 minutes but when I approached the uniformed man again there was much consternation around him. I quickly understood that the flight to Abidjan was canceled and travelers would be put up in a hotel and served a meal, to be accommodated the next day at the same time. For me that meant that one third of the training of trainers I was supposed to lead would be over by the time of my arrival. I was just wondering how I was going to deal with this when I overheard someone say that the Air Burkina flight was not canceled. It was the Air Ivoire that wasn’t going to go. My luck – who would have thought that Air Burkina would carry the day.

And so I arrived as planned, although leaving the airport itself took quite a while because several large planes arrived at the same time and there were simply too many of us to get our passports stamped quickly. Nevertheless I was quite impressed with the orderly way in which we were advancing with numbers flashing for the next available officer.

Everywhere there were warnings about Ebola, or rather about not transporting, touching or consuming bush meat and advice on where to go if you had symptoms such as fever, headache and bleeding. I am entirely engrossed in John Barry’s book about the Great Influenza of 1918 and am learning a lot about how virus work and our immune system when it is in overkill mode.

A driver and one of my colleagues were waiting for me and took me to Grand Bassam. It is about one half hour drive eastwards from Abidjan when traffic is light. Grand-Bassam was the French colonial capital city from 1893 to 1896, when the administration was transferred to Bingerville after a bout of yellow fever (according to unedited Wikipedia). Now it is a place where people go to relax on Sundays, producing some mighty traffic jams (I have been in the worst traffic jam of my life in Cote d’Ivoire, last year from Plateau II to the airport).

I was pleased to find out the hotel has fast internet and power but unfortunately there was no water; not in the evening and not in the early morning when I got up. I should have stayed in bed as water returned at 7 AM after I had already stuck my head in a bucket of soapy water without having any implements other than my hands to complete my ‘shower.’

Later in the day water remained but power went out several times – somehow it seems when cannot get all three right at the same time for a while.

I had a fabulous meal by myself in the outdoor café while my colleagues went to a maquis (a local inexpensive outdoor eating spot that you find all along the West African coast. I decided to stay put and take care of several small details that had not been taken care of and that required a considerable amount of improvisation.