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Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Tour of Duty - Fiction

I was excited when our HR manager asked me if I would like to volunteer for a community service project in Mobuto in Africa sponsored by our company. Being a multinational company with presence all over country, we sponsored a variety of community service projects in under-developed countries.

I was bored of the routine office life and was keen to have some adventure in my life. A six month assignment in a tribal village in the beautiful rain forests of Africa sounded appealing. It was a fully paid holiday and there was a special hardship allowance. It also satisfied a craving in my heart for doing something for the poor and needy. So I agreed wholeheartedly.

This particular project was a part of a large project under the aegis of the Bank. The field level supervision was by an NGO and many sub-projects were sponsored by companies like ours.

After a long journey from Singapore and a long ride in a Pejaro, we finally reached Mobuto a small town which was the coordinating office for the community welfare projects of that rejoin. We were taken to the guest house maintained by the NGO. Quite a nice and comfortable set up; with air conditioners, mosquito proofing and all the amenities that a city-bred fellow like me would be happy to have.

The project sponsored by my company provided for educational support for three tribal villages. We had set up a primary school that could accommodate about 100 students. The school tried to teach the students how to read and write, elements of basic hygiene etc. It had teachers who were trained locals. Our project also funded a continuous supply of faculty support like me who would come for six months assignments partly to upgrade the quality of teachers and partly to supervise the work.

I stayed in the guest house and first couple of weeks were spent in acclimatising to the new place and learning the language. In the evening the local project co-ordinator who was from UK on a one year assignment came over for a whisky and some local gossip. He also narrated how the local chief was being well taken care to ensure that the mining right to the nearby Copper Mines were not jeopardised by the rebels.

After two weeks of familiarisation to the local culture, I visited the school which was about 20 km into the forests. The three local teachers were a pleasant lot and shared with me the challenges they face in attracting, retaining and educating the tribal kids who would rather go in to the forests to pick fruits and firewood.

By the time I finished my chat with the teachers, David came over to collect the package that I had carried for him. I was surprised to see a young handsome white gentleman about 22 years of age. He was from Boston and was staying in the village to help them and teach them with better community health. He has been there for almost 18 months. I was impressed by his dedication and commitment.

Every day I visited the village school I also ensured that I visited David and spent some time with him. I wanted to do whatever that I could to provide moral support to this self-sacrificing boy.

He took me to his hut and introduced me to his wife. She was a young and beautiful girl and obviously adored her husband. They had been married to each other for a year and were blessed with a small baby. My respect for him multiplied ten times for having given this girl a family and support.

We became good friends. As my days of community support were almost coming to an end, David joined me one day at the guest house for a drink. We were discussing our future plans. He confided with me that he plans to leave this village back to US within six months. I was taken aback.

“What about Suru and the kid?” I asked

“What about her? It is a small side story in a project that has helped me get admission to Harvard” David quipped.

“Moreover the local support has contributed to my project a lot and Suru made stay here a lot more pleasurable”

I felt better; especially since I had started wondering about the cost-benefit of my project.

(After posting serious stuff for many weeks, this is an attempt again in storytelling. Any resemblance to living characters or incidences may be intentional.

This effort attempts multiple goals, like a piece of modern art.

At the basic level, is just a narration of a story adapted from something I heard, to see how I could handle the narration!.

Above this, it tries to make some observations on the motives of individuals, institutions and even nations in many of the community service initiatives.

On the one hand why should one bother at the underlying agenda if the benefits are tangible and otherwise un-available.

But sometimes don't these welfare initiatives lead to exploitation and get used for unfair discrimination. Some of the extreme views on child labour and environmental protection are examples of this.

I don’t intent to make any value judgement here; but just a reminder that the first impression may not always be the right expression of reality!)

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