Shirin Ahmed: Ndibwami Integrated Rescue Project

Through the Yale AIESEC Exchange program, I spent eight weeks interning with the Ndibwami Integrated Rescue Project (NIRP), a grass roots relief and development organization that provides support and care to poor and disadvantaged families living in the Masaka-Rakai districts of Uganda.  

Along with 4 other interns, I spent the first few weeks of my internship conducting interviews to assess the medical, social and economic needs of a local village community in Gayaza, located a few miles from the center of Masaka town. Although we had been told that English is the official language in Uganda, we soon found out that very few people spoke English in Masaka. I am therefore very grateful to the local volunteers at NIRP who assisted us in preparing our questionnaires and helped us communicate with members of the local community in Luganda (the local language). These interviews were very insightful and gave me the opportunity to gain an in depth understanding of the daily challenges that people face in this village. In the process, I learnt valuable lessons on how to conduct field research and frame questions that are culturally sensitive and do not raise undue expectations of local inhabitants.

During our interviews, we came across many HIV/AIDs victims living in the village. Most of them were single women, living under absolute poverty, with no assets and a sustainable source of income to support themselves and their families. Most worked on farms that belonged to other families but expressed that their poor health conditions made it physically challenging to do this kind of physical labor for long hours They also told us that it was difficult for them to visit TASO (The AIDS Support Organization), the HIV/AIDS testing and medical facility in Masaka, because of their inability to pay for transportation costs to TASO (located in Masaka town). We set up a meeting with the Center Manager at TASO to discuss the possibility of an outreach program that could provide testing and counseling services to these patients in Gayaza. However, we were told that Gayaza is not far enough and therefore it was not cost effective for TASO personnel to deliver medicines and testing services. After analyzing and discussing these challenges with our boss, we organized these victims in an HIV/AIDS group and established a weekly vocational skill-training program. One of the members of the group volunteered to offer tailoring lessons to other members every Thursday of the week. In this way, the group could mobilize themselves and learn valuable practical skills that could benefit them in the future. Our group also raised money and donated livestock to this group to help them overcome some of their financial challenges.

In response to the multiple cases of malaria that we encountered during our needs assessment interviews, we decided to plant a garden of herbal medicines used to treat malaria. While not as effective as drugs received at the hospital, the herbal medication will be accessible to the entire Gayaza community at no cost and will continue growing for many years. We hope that the herbal garden will lower the rates of malaria infection in the community or at least serve as treatment until the infected persons can afford to visit the hospital.

We also collaborated with a “Work Together Women’s Group”, a self help group that had been set up by a previous intern as a way for women to mobilize themselves and work towards a sustainable livelihood. We started an initiative to plant a community vegetable garden of cabbages, carrots and green peppers to help them achieve a more balanced diet and sell the excess in the market to generate income for the group. We trained these women and asked them to contribute some of their savings to the project to help them understand the principles of short and long-term investment and allow them to gain a sense of ownership. Every Tuesday, we assisted these women to help prepare their vegetable garden. Although working on the garden involved intense physical labor, something I was not accustomed to, working alongside these women made me feel productive and allowed me to make a tangible contribution to their lives.

In addition to the HIV/AIDs group and the Work Together Women’s group, we spent the rest of our time working at a Restoration Center, a primary school for children between the ages of 4 and 12. Many of the students had been orphaned by AIDs and were living in difficult conditions. Together with the students, we planted a passion fruit garden outside the school to contribute to the nutritional enrichment of the students and the economic wellbeing of the restoration center.

The one downside of my internship was that like most local NGOs in Uganda, NIRP had limited funding to support most of these projects and relied on donations to carry out most of its activities. In order to overcome these financial limitations, we set up a blog (http://gayazarestoration.tumblr.com) to raise money for our various projects. The blog has information and pictures of our work in Gayaza and the amount of money we raised for each project.

Although I was often frustrated with the lack of structure within the NGO and the difficulty of communicating with locals, this summer was a great learning experience for me as it allowed me to step out of my comfort zone and truly understand the realities of life and the daily challenges that people face in Uganda. Interning through AIESEC also gave me the opportunity to integrate in the local culture and meet interns from all over the world, friendships and memories that I will cherish for the rest of my life.

Shirin Ahmed is a Senior in Ezra Stiles College.

Dictionaries and Surprises

I only have two days left here in Katowice, a city in Silesia in southern Poland with a population of two million. It feels like I just got here yesterday. In reality, it's been a little less than six weeks. My project involves working at a social center with teenagers from the ages of thirteen to twenty. Responsibilities include overseeing and participating in the activities that the teens partake in, such as playing board games, watching movies, cleaning, and preparing and cooking meals. In addition, I also spend time trying to teach the kids as much English as I possibly can.

When I first arrived a mere six weeks ago, I knew how to say a grand total of two words in Polish, the words for yes and no. When I asked Polish people for directions or something of the sort, my questions in English received varied responses. Some people just stared at me. Others smiled but shook their heads, indicating their lack of understanding. The ones who did speak some English became really excited and were eager to help in any way possible. One of my most memorable early encounters occurred with the owner of a little store. I had a huge headache and was desperately searching for medicine. I couldn't find it in the store so I decided to ask the lady if they had any. Since she didn't speak English, I tried my best to use hand gestures to get her to understand me. It failed. As I was about to give up and leave the store, she called me back and pulled out a Polish to English dictionary. Thankfully, I succeeded in getting the medicine.

At my work place, there are three teachers. Two of them understand English but are afraid to speak it, while one has good English. Initially, she served as translator whenever I wanted to say anything to the children. I made it my goal to learn how to say a few Polish phrases each day in order to be able to somewhat communicate with them. The kids love to hear me speak Polish and it also in a way motivated them to learn some English. Even though six weeks is definitely not enough time to become fluent in Polish, now I know many useful phrases and can get my way around here.

A highlight at my work place occurred last week. It was one of the boy's birthdays. Lukasz was turning seventeen. Emily, an intern from China who I work with, and I decided to get him a little present. As he is a huge fan of the Barcelona soccer team, we got him a Barcelona wall clock. He was surprised but very happy when we gave it to him. Emily and I thought that this was the end of the surprises for the day. We were wrong. As soon as we gave him his gift, the teachers and kids gave us a surprise. They gave us a shirt that everyone had signed, a bracelet, and a necklace. They even made us a delicious cake. Everyone there is extremely kind and they wanted to do something for us so that we wouldn't forget them. I never will.

With only two days left, I want to make the most of them and add to the million memories I have already made. It sure has been an amazing ride.

Dinner and International Monopoly

It is an appropriate parallel that my second entry on this blog, like my first, should revolve around an invitation to dinner. Last Friday, July 29^th, was one of the better days of the camp. The lesson my team taught was about peace, and we did a little activity wherein we passed out index cards to each student, asking them to illustrate the first idea that came to their head with the word “peace.” Responses varied from the 1960s peace sign (often humorously missketched as the Mercedes Benz logo!) to people of different races holding hands. It was a very productive and probing exercise each time we did it with a class, asking why they considered peace a reasonable goal and why they drew what they did.

Dinner that evening was with a family whose two teenagers, twins, were both students at the camp, and the guests were myself and three fellow interns, one each from Tajikistan, the Czech Republic, and Sudan. After a forty-minute bus ride to the other side of the bay that Izmit wraps around – the destination being the town of Gölcük – we arrived, and dinner began. After I had lost my debit card to an ATM in Cappadocia the week before, I with my limited cash had spent very little on food and this dinner seemed even more of a feast for my inadvertent fasting; however, even without my persistent hunger it would have been a remarkably filling and delectable meal. A vegetable soup was first, followed by a sort of cracked-grain stew; there was salad – tomatoes, cucumbers, and onions – as well as several dishes I could not recognize save for the presence of meat, a sort of dough, and a smothering layer of sour Turkish yogurt. The yogurt here is a puzzle to my America taste buds, accustomed to yogurt coming primarily in sweet variations with the occasional plain serving; in Turkey, they only have sour yogurt, thicker than whipped cream and eaten with a fork, or salty (maybe even garlicky) yogurt, including a salted, diluted yogurt drink named ayran of which I only ever could finish one glass but which the Turks imbibe with a hardy vigor. Another foodstuff that they did better in Turkey than the United States: fruit juice. There was an enormous variety, but I loved how some of the most common flavors were peach, apricot and sour cherry – and the former two delightfully thick and pulpy, and all three on this magnificently spread dinner table.

After dinner, we moved into the other room and broke out a game of Monopoly – in Turkish. Instead of the ever-so-familiar Mediterranean Avenue, Park Place and Broadway, however, all the slots were places in Istanbul! Not to mention the fact that two of the railroad stations were (appropriately) replaced by ferry docks and that all the cards were in Turkish, or that the currency was based on the old Turkish Lira, long before 2005 when they lopped six zeroes off the end in order to bring it into some semblance of normalcy. The funnest part, however, was attributing the actions of the players to their home countries: at no other time would Tajikistan have enough money to buy out half the world, or the Czech Republic and the US be under international probation (“In Jail”)! Though we didn’t even buy out all the available properties, it was still a thoroughly enjoyable evening. I was glad to have the opportunity to associate with such a nice family, and to be in the company of my fellow interns outside the confines of the classroom. It was definitely another highlight of my internship!

A birthday in the land of the undotted i's

To set the stage somewhat: I'm currently in Izmit, Turkey, a town of around a million inhabitants about an hour's fast drive east of Istanbul, a place where you see the lights peppering the mountains across the Sea of Marmara at night and the location of Turkey's devastating 1999 earthquake. My project is Myself My World, a sort of summer camp with the objective of giving Turkish high schools students, all of whom have studied English for around five years but none of whom have opportunities to practice it outside their classroom, exposure to English and a chance to speak it, as well as present diverse world cultures to them.

The first Myself My World camp of the summer is nearly done, and I was blessed with the chance to have my birthday fall during this time - and it turned out to be one of my more memorable birthdays in recent years, and a great confluence of a great variety of interesting activities.

My team of fellow interns met, as usual, at 10am so as to plan the one-and-one-half hour class for the morning, this time about entrepreneurship; also, as usual, everyone seemed to remember what I tended to forget - that it was my birthday. One student, smiling gleefully, informed me that the class had a surprise for me (I loved the irony in her informing me of that), and my fellows corroborated with their observations that the students had been twittering in Turkish the previous day. Only after the opening meeting was the extent of the surprise revealed: while I was preparing for an average, if perhaps dry, lesson about entrepreneurship (I'm no enthusiast for business), they came in with a cake bedecked with sparklers and candles singing Happy Birthday, followed at their heels by a veritable parade of other foods, which we spread out on some desks in the center of the room. There was börek, a baked pastry stuffed with meat and sauce; potato with onions; a pasta salad; stuffed grape leaves; a powdery sweet called irmek helva; and there was a local speciality, pişmaniye, which is closest to cotton candy - but American cotton candy is coarse and sickly compared to the delicious fineness and smoothness that is the traditional sweet of Izmit. All together, there was far, far too much food even for the twenty of us, and we were all oversatiated by the end.

The post-lunch torpor did not prevent us, though, from adapting K'naan's song "Waving Flag" - which you make recognize from its having been the anthem of last year's World Cup - into a declaration of team unity, which we later presented as the camp got together for the afternoon's country presentations (I had done mine about the US two days earlier - coincidentally, July Fourth!). It was good to finally have a cheer to call our own.

After the activities of the camp were through, one student took me to his home, as he had invited me to dinner with his family the day before. While we awaited his parents' arrival, he showed me photos from his family's trip to Mecca when he was twelve - a place that I'll never get to see save through photographs of those who visit. By happy chance, when dinner did roll around, I could speak with everyone in the family except the mother: the two sons knew passable English, and the father, a Qur'an teacher at the mosque and hafidh (person who has memorized the entirety of the Qur'an), spoke Modern Standard Arabic, and actually complimented me on my Arabic skill. After the dinner, a few of the family's relatives came over, and I was witness to a private Muslim prayer service: the first time I had witnessed the entirety of the ritual of Islamic prayer. It was a very interesting experience, and the little bit after that we discussed the unique bits of Islam and Christianity and I explained that, even though I don't drink tea as a part of my faith, they shouldn't feel obliged to not drink it in my presence.

The family then retreated to the top-floor terrace for the mandatory post-meal watermelon. It was there that the student asked me about the song "Cotton-Eye Joe", which was played at camp and to which no one really knew a dance but me. And so it was that I demonstrated the dance I knew to "Cotton-Eye Joe" to a Turkish family.

All in all, it was a great day. I'm glad I had the chance to be here.

Discovering a Hidden Jewel--Sempu Island

I woke up at 3 am in the morning, got dressed in my bikini, then packed an extra pair of clothes, a towel, lots of food and water, mosquito lotion, and some sunscreen. I was about to head to Heaven on Earth in Indonesia—Sempu Island. It was going to be a 3-hour drive to the coast, a 15-min boat ride to the island, and a 2-hour walk to get the lagoon next to the Indian Ocean. The car and boat ride was less than extraordinary, but the 2-hour walk was an adventure of a lifetime—especially given the jewel that I was to discover at the end of the journey.

We got off the boat and crossed some shallow water. On the other side was a muddy jungle that seemed to hold all the secret wonders of the world. Our guide, Hendra, told us that the island was divided into two areas—area A is mostly uninhabited by dangerous animals, while area B is where the jaguars dwell. As much as I wanted to see a jaguar, I was happy to hear we were about to venture into area A. J

Crossing the muddy paths, I can see that there were many visitors in the past. The footprints in the mud were our guides, and their presence gave us just enough knowledge to reach the lagoon. Step by step and slip after slip, we got our muddy selves through the jungle without serious injuries. Along the way, I kept on wondering: perhaps the animals are all spying on us. Their voices were so vivid yet we could never see them—I heard monkeys and birds; even some unidentified croaking sounds that perplexed us all. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were laughing at us clumsy human beings.

As sudden and unexpected as the sun seems to creep up at dawn, we spotted clear, CLEAR, blue water. “We’re here,” said Henra. Each of us were so concentrated on that one step in front of us, that time disappeared, our hungers and thirst vanished. Yet as soon as we saw that water, even that slippery mud in front of us became solid ground. We raced to the lagoon, forgetting all our aches and pains.

There it was—paradise. I have never seen clearer water and whiter sand in my life. How can I have lived for 20 years on Earth and have never even seen this hidden wonder? I kicked off my half-broken muddy shoes, and to my surprise, the sand was one of the most solid kinds I’ve ever set foot upon. My feet didn’t sink in, and the heat of the sun was not trapped in the sand. It was comfortable and cool. I stood there, just for another second, to absorb all that was around me. I looked over at a large opening between the rocks that separated the ocean from this land, and I listened carefully to the Indian Ocean beating ruthlessly against these rocks. The opening allowed the clear sea water to gush into the lagoon. With each oceanic wave, the lagoon came to life with a soft sound of the sea. I wanted to be a part of this all! So I took off my clothes and ran into the lagoon in my bikini. I let the cool, salty water absorb me in. I let the sun shine its rays onto my skin. The girls and I floated, swam, laughed, took pictures, and enjoyed all that was around us. I felt true serenity.

On the way back, we began hearing a distant but familiar sound—the Muslim prayer broadcasted by loudspeaker throughout Indonesia. Together with all praying Muslims, I thanked God (whomever it/He may be) for creating this Earth with all its wonders. I knew that even though my internship about tourism and environmental protection was about to end, I will always be a part of this project for the rest of my life. Our Earth, our home, will be protected; its beauty will be shared. J I just wonder, what other jewels are there for me to discover? I can’t wait to find out.

Anna in China! - Dialogue with Man on Airplane

What is this? *fortune cookie*

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Setting: Airplane; mealtime.

Language: Mandarin Chinese

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Chinese Man: What is this? *hands me fortune* (More importantly, why is it in my food?)

Me: Uhhhhhh... (Dang it, how do you say "proverb" in Chinese???) It's...a smart or clever sentence that...white people...like to read. And... they put it in the cracker.

Chinese man: *points to my fortune cookie*

Me: Yes, there is one in mine too.

Chinese man: *disbelieved look*

Me: (Fine, I'll show you.) *crack open fortune cookie*

Chinese man: *ruffles brow; shrugs; continues eating*

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Disclaimer: This dialogue was actually more awkward and drawn out than I have depicted in this blogpost.

Travelling back in time at Malang Tempo Dura

After much internal debate about the subject of my first blog entry, I've decided to first introduce Malang, Indonesia to all our readers. Hopefully, after reading this, you will have a better picture of what Malang is, and who are the people living in this rich piece of land. What I am about to share was documented on May 22nd, 2011. These are observations that capture my true feelings about the people and culture of Malang.

Travelling back in time has never been easier with the annual festival of Malang Tempo Dura (Malang goes back in time, MTD). It is truly a place where one can taste, smell, touch, and see the rich culture of Indonesia. Moreover, it is a festival for people from all walks of life to gather—young and old, rich and poor. It is a gathering of strangers in Malang, to shop, laugh, and eat. These strangers, with the help of lively music and the aroma of spices, from a community that is so vital to Indonesian

culture, as it is reflected in the festival’s food, clothing, and art.

A community is a family with little or no blood relations—it is choosing to be a part of a larger group of people despite the accident of birth. Indonesians exhibit a strong sense of community, which is reflected very strongly in the food at MTD. Stopping by stand after stand, one can always find rice and dough as part of the main dish or dessert. Rice is always coupled with strong spices, sugary drinks, and oily snacks. This coupling allows the bland to meet the exciting; the flavorless to meet the flavorful. The opposing elements counter-act each other to make a harmonious and delicious serving. The dishes allow difference to create unity—just as a community would. Moreover, the mixture of dough, mixing it, compressing it, steaming it, rolling it, are all part of a process that many families enjoy together. As the sticky rice unites each dough particle, the making of rice cakes unites the family; as well as those who eat it.

A community is also complicated. It is made up of completely different individuals with vastly different personalities. Such complications are what make a community beautiful and strong. These qualities are undoubtedly on full display in the cultural clothing and art of Indonesia. At MTD, one can always spot the traditional Indonesian clothing, Batiks, being used as wall decorations or sold as clothing. The Batik is a large piece of cloth, traditionally painted by hand with natural dye, into floral patterns of great complications. It can

be worn in many ways, depending on one’s personal style. As hundreds of years have passed since its first appearance, thousands of patterns have emerged on the Batik, celebrating the diversity of Indonesian people and culture. The Batik at once unifies a community and differentiates individuals.

At MTD, one may also find a form of traditional Indonesian Art, the Wayang Shadow Puppet. It is a cultural heritage that few can deny its splendor. The puppets themselves are colorful yet structured, displaying patterns of similar complications as the Batik. Yet, when the shadow puppet is used in a performance, one only sees its shadow—a projection of its outline from behind a screen. The two-dimensional puppets come alive through the interplay of light and shadows. Similar to Indonesian food, by contrasting empty spaces and solid material, two opposites, one can see the puppets come alive on the screen. The puppets then play out scenes of the lives of Indonesian people. With exaggeration, it can dramatize and satirize a community, a person, or a type of people. The Wayang Shadow Puppet is a form of art that educates as well as inspires awe. For the practice of controlling the puppet limbs takes years to master, and to give the puppets character, the puppeteer must know the movements of the puppet as if they were his own. Wayang is an art of the mastery of patience and understating, qualities that a community must possess to be open to new ideas, but also form a sense of identity.

Community is one of the most important values in Indonesian culture. As I traveled back in time in MTD, I realized that this quality is hundreds of years old, but as vibrant as ever. As the world becomes increasingly fast-paced, Malang shall never lose its patience. Malang will maintain that sense of community, of being in a diverse community made up of different individuals but united by their food, beliefs, culture, and language. The aroma of Malang is rich, waiting for you to discover its intricacies and complications. That is something time shall never erase.

Welcome!

Dear AIESEC Interns,

Welcome to the official AIESEC Yale blog! This is a new initiative that we hope will make your experiences abroad on an AIESEC internship even more memorable. This blog is aimed at providing a medium for you to share your experiences (pictures and videos welcome) and also get to see what other AIESEC Yale interns are doing around the world.

We hope it's fun and fascinating and that you have a fantastic internship.

Remember that AIESEC Yale is here to support you. You can always contact us at aiesecyale.internships@gmail.com.

AIESECly yours,

Patricia
VP Outgoing Exchange 2010-2011