Pride & Joy; Nothing much Beats it!

At a village school in the Imereti region teenagers dreamt of having an indoor gymnasium. But with limited funds being prioritised for things like a new toilet block, the reality of this happening was nonexistent.

Eight seniors from the school got together and, as a result of the leadership training they had recently received, they did some research and wrote a proposal. They live in an agricultural region where they worked the farms with their parents, but they had noticed that the greenhouses were not standing up to the snows, and the wear and tear of bad weather.

From their research and discussions with local farmers they designed a new style of greenhouse. It would be made with a metal frame, because the wood rots and breaks; it would have a thicker plastic skin, because the traditional ‘cellophane’ tore too easily; and a half-round roof, because the A-frame roofs broke under the weight of collecting snow, whilst the round roof allowed the snow to fall away.

Farmers had not seen the style before and many criticised. But the proposal was accepted, the green-house built and after a bumper crop of tomatoes the students are laughing as they plant a winter crop of herbs.

They haven’t got their gym yet, and at the rate they can grow crops it will be a long way off, but you should see the pride in their eyes and the smiles on their faces as they tell me their story. One of the girls tells me that; “other school’s teenagers laughed at them, and told them they were fools, but now they don’t”.

As one of the boys shows me around and explains the differences and benefits of this construction he compares it to the green house his dad has, and announces that he is going to help other people in the community transfer to this better, more efficient, more productive model.

When you see that look of pride and joy in people’s eyes, then you know you’re onto a good thing.

Empowering Youth in Imereti

If you are going to eat khachapuri, then if it is the real deal it will be made with cheese from the Imereti region of Georgia. (It's a flatish bread stuffed with melting cheese.) But that's not what I was in Imereit for, although I had been treated to khachapuri within 12 hours of being in the country.

About three hours west of Tbilisi near the city of Kutaisi, (in the Imereti region) the schools were built years ago in the Soviet era, and the world has forgotten them. Veyr recently one of them received permission to build a toilet block, and despite the fact that it is a concrete box, it is the flashest building in town.

One of the most urgent needs in these communities, as identified by the people, is that the youth have nothing to do, and very few of them have any hope of improvement. These are farming communities, most have small family plots that only just scrape by. But the parents, like any parents, want their kids to have the opportunity to do something different - to be better than them.

For the past 7 months our team has been working with the kids in eight of these schools; officially to build their capacity - but actually what has happened is that they have become self aware, confident and socially responsible.

Together with the schools our team has built Youth Councils in the schools. About 10-15 teenagers have elected a Leader, a PR, Finance and Social Networking lead. Once this group was established they each elected, from the School staff, a Mentor that would work with them; mediate for, and advocate on their behalf.

All eight schools went away to summer camps were they learnt debating skills (and competed against each other), they completed a first aid certificate, and they learnt local level advocacy skills. At the end of the camp each of the Youth Councils were required to identify at least one project that they would undertake to improve their community.

All of the Councils chose to address the garbage problem in their school and community: today after advocating for change the school has large bins, the community has public bins and the councils have agreed to add these bins to the council collection and to pay the costs.

Three schools also chose to address the issue of disability exclusion in their schools. They recognised that the disabled kids in their communities were excluded from school and community life. Through their Mentor they asked for training on disability inclusion, and inclsive education. Then they went to work on the Ministry of Education, the School Director and the community. They held their own awareness campaign, and spread the message they had come to understand, that "we should not ignore the disabled kids because we think it is too hard, it isn't, they are brave and can do things we can't".

I had the opportunity to visit a new classroom that has been repaired and painted (pink) by the kids. A teacher has been employed and, the school I visited, had five disabled kids enrolled, (and a ramp built for access). There was a large tree painted on the wall, with branches that held the dreams of these kids. It's a small beginning - but a huge step for the young people.

With confidence they reported their involvement in the project and a few of them outlined their dreams for the future. Most of them will go to University: we will have a few teachers, a couple of lawyers, one or two journalists, a few IT experts and one or two agricultural scientists who want to research farming methods to improve crop yields in their community.

This project is transforming the lives of young people in Imereti and they in turn are reforming society. That's exciting to be (a very small) part of.

Kaya

'Kaya' shyly peeked around the corner of the door way, she had heard strange voices in the room and was here to check us out. Slowly, encouraged by Meya the Director of the facility, she made her way around the door and then ran for Meya's outstretched arms.

It was St George's Day in Georgia, and I was visiting a Street Children's Shelter on the edge of Tbilisi. Here, in a dilapidated two storey complex that in so many ways reminds me of all the horror images of Children's institutions in ex-Soviet countries, there are 35 children from 6 to 18 years old. The kids are all rugged up against the bitter cold wind (and it isn't full winter yet) that bites deep as there is no glass in most of the bottom floor windows. The paint, where there is pain is peeling off the walls. The concrete floor is full of divots from many years of neglect. But this is a State building, and the managing agency can do little, because another building, apparently as dilapidated as this, is being repaired for a move.

Before coming to this place the kids here were all 'street children': some were sex workers, many were professional beggars, others were thieves and pick-pockets - they all did what ever they had to either to satisfy masters or to survive. Some have been remanded to the centre by the courts, others have been found wandering by the Police and bought here for care.

'Kaya', is a ten year old girl who "is a little slow", but don't mistake her for being stupid. She speaks two languages. She and her older brother and Mother were beggars. They spent most of Kaya's ten years begging near the market in town. One day about a year ago her brother disappeared, they didn't know what happened to him and Mum had no way of finding out.

Then a few months ago, whilst wandering amongst the people begging, Kaya lost her Mum. She became distressed and hysterical and so the Police picked her up and bought her to Meya, to the Street Children's Shelter. Here, Meya has worked with her, and she has made friends - but most amazingly, here she also found her brother and then a few days later her Mum found them.

But there was no way Mum could care for them, and here they were safe, they were fed, they were loved. If only there were a place were people like Mum could go and get help, but there is no social care for people like her in Georgia. But Meya wasn't finished yet!

Meya, has a Masters in Social Welfare, and for may years has worked at a very influential level in Georgia. But a few months ago she gave it all up because she said, "it was time to put my walk where my talk is". Today she is Director of the Shelter (as well as a number of other roles she plays in the organisation): so she made contact with a friend that owns a farm just a little way off, and they got Mum a job caring for cows on the farm. She now earns a little bit of money, she has a place to live and stay safe - but most importantly she has a job - she has worth.

Kaya and her brother will stay at the Shelter for now, here they get some help, (psychological, life skills, behavioural and educational) but Mum visits often. They are some of the lucky ones!

Home League Re-Imagined

12 years ago a handful of war widows got together to talk. They were tired of doing nothing, feeling helpless and dependant. They were frustrated that their children and grand-children had no future and saw little hope of this changing. They were over being victims! They didn't want to be the poster image of war widows anymore. Today, after  a lot of hard work, they have put the people that told them just to be quiet back in their boxes.

As I drove into the town of Olovo it became immediately obvious why this town, in a valley between two high mountains, like so many, had been the site of so many war casualties. The wooded mountains climbed high on either side of us, but they still hide dangerous memories. Only a few weeks ago a young father gathering berries in the forest was killed by a land mine. There are still small signs with a white 'skull and crossbone' on a red background along the road where there is known to have been mine fields. Militia and snipers hid in these mountains and picked off the population below.

Today Olovo is a majority Muslim village, but before the war, like most villages in Bosnia, it was a mixed religion and ethnic village. High on the mountain side stands an old Catholic Monastery, a proud building, prised by all the village. During the war the Muslim community protected the Catholic Monastry and would not let the Muslim militia destroy it. Today it still stands proud, a symbol of unity, with the Muslim mosque just below it - both stand out as you look up to the mountain.

It was cold, the fog still hung low in the valley when I arrived at the well refursbished two storey 'home' of the Olovo Womens' Association at about 10am. Quickly ushered into the warnth of th kitchen I passed by well stocked shelves with all kinds of pickled vegetables and fruit preserves and syrups.Over the past few years this (Home League) Women's Association has increased to 80 paid up members - and is open to any women. (The Imam is an honorary member!)

They have bought over 30 greenhouses where families grow vegetables and fruit, and becuase they have been helped, they give 10% of all produce, annually, to the association. In the kitch I now stood a volunteer army of women of all ages pickle, stew, preserve the produce. Labelled with their new branding, of which they are very proud, this produce is sold in the village and surrounds. The profits have establisehed and staffed the only kindergarten in town where up to forty 2-5 year olds are learning all the socialisation and early learning skills that kids everywhere enjoy.

Outings are arranged for the women to visit each others holy sites and centres. Workshops are held to teach how to cook and grow. Health clinics are held in the village. But the message they wanted to me to hear more than anything was: 'now we make our own money, we make money for our kids - we don't just wait for people to help us - we are in control - and we are dong good'.

An inspritational, and formiddable group of women. (At 10:30am I was served a lunch of all kinds of preserves and pickles  with roast chicken and potatoes - and I was hungry, even if I didn't htink I was!)

Bosnia & Herzegovina, Republika Srpska

This last week I have been holed up in the Hotel Sarajevo, about 15 minutes outside the Capital of the Federation of Bosnia i Herzegovina attending a workshop facilitated by World Vision International with the grand title of "Integrating Peacebuilding and Conflict Sensitivity", or I-PACS.

I-PACS is about conflict mitigation and designing programming in ways that ensure that Aid and Development are not exacerbating conflict sensitivities but rather part of a response that promotes peace, and maybe reconciliation. The fact is that aid can sometimes be used as a tool to control people, or unintentionally (or maybe intentionally) promote the agenda of one of the parties in conflict.

It has been interesting, talking about issues of Interfaith Relations, Conflict, War and Peace in a country that only about 20 years ago saw one of the worst genocides in recent history. An then this morning we woke to Police vehicles cordoning off the corner and the news that the authorities are investigating a suspected mass grave (from the war) that is 100 meters from my hotel and 10 meters off the main road into Sarajevo City.

But today I had the opportunity to escape the Hotel and travel north into the rural city of Kakanj where we could meet and talk with some of the 'real people'. I had the privilege of interviewing a Roman Catholic priest, (a Croat) who is working with his church to address some of the needs of his parish. He spoke of a member of his congregation that cares for some of the ignored and lonely elderly people of his community; of the marginalisation and exclusion of the Roma minority and his attempts to include and empower them.

I visited one of the largest schools in the area that has about 1,050 students enrolled. The school manages three shifts (7:30am, 11:00am and 1:30pm) in a small building complex so as to cater for all the children. Schooling is obligatory, but the costs of purchasing books and material is too high for some who have limited or no income. And then, once the children complete their schooling there are no opportunities for work.

Parents are unemployed and receive little or no state assistance, either for children's basic needs or for medical assistance and the system is corrupt, uncaring and untrustworthy.

So what do INGOs do to assist in a community like Kakanj? What is the best way to partner for sustainable transformation with a community that voices little hope that the systems can change in any way that will offer them assistance?

If you know the answer let me know, but in the meantime, we do what we can to analyse the context, and ensure as best we can that what we are doing, (facilitating child sponsorship, children's education, civil society building, economic development) is the best we can and that it is equally accessible to all people regardless of social, ethnic and religious affiliation.