DEB

Before completing The Poisonwood Bible, Barbara Kingsolver referred to her book project as the Damn Africa Book, DAB for short. This project grew bigger and bigger, a cause of much frustration and sleepless nights. One of my projects, out of similar frustrations and sleeplessness, I have decided to name the Damn EPA Building, DEB for short.

DEB is a building construction project that I am now charged with completing. The only project I inherited wholly from my predecessor. Six months ago I was sitting behind a desk, never having touched a bag of cement in life, unless I had unknowingly brushed one in the aisles of Home Depot. Now I find myself in charge of a building project. Probably the deepest end I’ve been thrown in, the hardest I’ve hit the ground running.

Even though about 75-80% of the work is complete, there is still a lot of work to be done. Mainly half the flooring, drains, revealing, doors, windows, landscaping, painting, fisher boards, and compost toilets still remain. Also, with ESCOM bumbling about, we had to add the additional job of wiring the building for electricity, should it ever arrive.

Technically, I don’t have to take on this project. This belonged to the previous volunteer and I don’t have to continue any of the projects I don’t want to. Also, we are not supposed to start or work on any projects the first three months at site, until IST is completed. But, these are unusual circumstances and slowly I’m growing aware of certain personality similarities between the previous volunteer and myself.

DEB was started almost 2 years ago after the community indicated its strong need for an extension office in the area. Between the massive deforestation and tobacco farming, the local environment has been decimated. Mountains barren, dry, soil ruined, trees non-existent. The reason this project took 2 years to get this far is because it faces a two-sided problem. On the one side, the previous volunteer deeply wanted the building to be financed by the Malawian government, as opposed to direct donor money. This was, after all, an extension office for government workers, so it’s only fair that the government finance the construction. On the other hand, the actual construction of the office had to be undertaken by the community, which draws its own set of problems of gathering competent and dedicated workers.

The unfortunate caveat to all this is that although the government will be held accountable for this project the money is still donor sourced. Malawi is financed predominately by donor money, with over 60% coming from the World Bank, USAID, the EU, and other donors. Just walk the streets of any city and you will see almost 3 out of every 5 vehicles with an aid organization banner on its side panel. However, I understand the need to hold the government officers accountable, especially when funds have a tendency to “disappear” in the often empty halls of government offices.

Working with the local Malawian government is, for lack of a better phrase, a pain in the ass. The list of frustrations are endless, the bureaucracy, the pampered egos, the red tape, the fact that on most days people never come into the office, and the most infuriating shoulder shrug whenever I ask them what happen to the money. In addition, they never call back when they say they will, and constantly reneg on verbal agreements of money and supplies (which are common agreements here). Being Indian, I understand where these politics stem from, after all I’m a foreigner in their country, but it is nonetheless utterly frustrating. Having to shuttle back and forth to the city countless times just to meet a department head only to be told “I don’t know, but try again next week, maybe.” And travelling is no easy task, especially coming from remote Mwazisi, and especially considering Peace Corps does not cover that cost of travel, which is quite expensive.

The flip side is dealing with community workers. On one side you have the government pulling with its “lack of funds,” underpayment, and delayed payments. On the other side are the pulling workers: frustrated, tired, and hungry to be compensated for the work they did so they can eat. Sometimes I feel like the two sides will tear me in half. I side with the workers in my community: they are not always good, but they do the work. I understand that they set aside tobacco farming for working on this building project and that this is their primary source of income this season. I understand the frustration when the work is done but they are not paid. However, at the same time, they too can be a pain in the ass to deal with. Getting them organized, pushing them to show up to work on time, everyday, to do a good job, working along-side them, getting up 2 hours before they arrive, working an extra hour after they leave, and occasionally floating them out of my own pocket. It’s a constant battle.

Sometimes the workers are out for legitimate reasons, mainly severe illnesses stemming from lack of proper healthcare and nutrition. But other times they don’t show up because they are working on other projects, which is irritating but understandable as private projects pay much better than public ones. It’s unfortunate that I sometimes have to run the project with an iron fist, but there’s no other way.

I don’t have to complete this building; I have no obligations to it. I could let the government and community figure it out and complete it on their own, even though if it might take years. But I know what it’s like to put two years into something and not see it to fruition. No matter how detached one can become, the building is still sitting there unfinished, incomplete, haunting and nagging as the summation of your work here. Perhaps I’m projecting. Also, this project gives me a chance to prove myself to the community that I can take over from the previous volunteer they so endeared. The project serves as a passed torch, allowing me to take the community into another direction. I’m also thrown in the deep end of the local Malawian government and understanding how to work within it, navigating the often empty offices. But of all this, mainly I hate to see unfinished things, strings untied. It bothers me, to a point where I will do it myself if need be.

That’s how I ended up in charge of DEB. The reason I find myself, shovel in hand, mixing proportions of sand and cement to make plaster, varying mixtures for flooring, getting quotes for doors, windows, and ignoring the bubbling sores forming on my hands. I enjoy learning about construction, all things I did not know before, even though the responsibility of completion weighs heavily. That Damn EPA Building.