There are two Zanzibar. One is the idea of Zanzibar. The second is Zanzibar itself. This is often the case with travelling destinations but it is still interesting, I think, to compare the idea of a place with the place itself. Thus when I was on the ferry on Saturday morning from Dar es Salaam I was thinking about the books and stories I red in the past which told of kind of magical places: Samarkand, Isfahan, Kathmandu, and of course Zanzibar.
These are all places described by early travelers and traders. Reached in often adventurous circumstances. Places where cultures came together and often clashed. Places that have been on the early maps as reference points for sea travelers. Zanzibar, Zan - Zi - Bar. The sound of this name reminds me of that movie, Marrakesh Express or maybe Tourne’ where the two friends travel in this old car and remember the trip they did many years before to Kathmandu in this very same car. At one point, one of the two tells to the other: do you remember the noise that this car used to do? A strange noise that accompanied our journey. A rhythmical noise which we have never been able to fix but which sounded like: kath-man-du, kath-man-du, kath-man-du,…. The same here, although I am not on a car but on the sea: Zan-zi-bar, zan-zi-bar….
Zanzibar today is very different from the one of the books. Probably Zanzibar has never been like the one described in those books. This evening I was sitting on the terrace of the restaurant where I had dinner, looked at the people in the garden near the shore setting up their food stalls, hot pans, pizza table, bamboo juice machines. The first customers. Arab families, African families, tourists strolling at sunset and having dinner out. I looked at them and thought that not so long ago there was similar place in town. A market where people used to stroll around and buy slaves. A market where people were put on display to be sold to other people, who would buy them bring them to work in their homes or in their fields. A slave market of African people. That ended badly with an insurrection which cause thousands of deaths.
That is also Zanzibar or at least one of its many pasts. The old town with its narrow alley, white houses, wooden doors with carvings above them has a strong Arabic characters and resemble to Essaouira, Galle, Tangier. These old town which lie next to the sea and have seen passing through them people from distant places bringing spices in exchange for wood or cotton. Walking in this intricate labyrinth display renovated houses, other which are kept together by simple though insufficient wooden scaffolding. the smell fo garbage left in some corners mixes with sewage which spills out of some gully-holes. At the same time it is possible to detect in the air spices, incense which all mix together in a strangely attracting way.
SO how is it for people to live here? It looks like the weight fo all this history is really testing the solidity of the building in the old town and even though I can have glimpses of homes and courtyards through half open wooden doors I cannot see who these homes and houses are and how people live. I can only guess and I think it is not very good. there is too much do to here. Too much to fix. Too much to renovate and not enough money I guess. Outside the harbor a large sign reminds visitors that the old town of Zanzibar is a UNESCO world heritage site and I wonder how is it to live in a world heritage site which is falling down.
Again the memories of those old stories or reference to this town come to my mind and in a way help to keep distant the voice of the sellers who at every shop try to convince me to buy the same things: a painting, a masai carved figure, a wooden bowl, a CDrom, a pareo with the picture of Barack Obama printed on it. This happen at every shop along the main streets in the old town also called Stone Town. However by turning on the side of these main streets one can only hear the noise sandals, open windows which bring voices, a bicycle which goes too fast and nearly hits me, a radio from a shop selling a bit of everything. At six this evening the loudspeakers with the chanting calling for prayer. Lights into a small mosque. People standing up and kneeling following the rhythm of their prayer.
During the couple of days I spent here I had mixed feelings but also a bit a like a tourist again. I travel a lot for work and also live abroad but that is different. I guess it was the feeling that accompanied the decision to get on the ferry and come here. Find this hotel and just discover this new place with not much information than a simple map. It was a nice feeling and the sellers, the tourists guides, the students who just want to practice their English did not bother me too much. But I must admit that I often thought how would it be to be here with Olga and Venla and show to them these narrow streets where it is only possible to walk, these old houses which needs renovation as they are crumbling down, this mosque, the nearby madrasa. What would they say? Before leaving from Dumageute, Olga told me she wanted to come with me to Africa. She wanted to see the lions, the elephants, the hippos. I told her I would check how to do and where when pen day we will come here together. In the end, I came to Zanzibar where there are not many lions to be seen. But I think that she would have liked to walk this evening on the white sand beach , near the Africa House and watch that group of kids 8 or 10 years old practicing to become acrobats using a an old truck tire as jumping trampoline. So, maybe, next time we will be here all together.
I arrive at the track and field track and am already sweating. The bicycle ride from home is just 10 minutes. The air seems cool at the sunset but is just an impression. As soon as you stop moving the sweat starts. I jump down. Pay the 10 Pesos offer at the entrance. Lock the bike. Fix my iPod Shuffle. Earplugs. Walk to the loop. For the first time in my life I find myself going jogging on areal 400m track and field loop in this small stadium in Dumaguete. And I am not alone. The opening times for this track to the public are 04:30am to 09:00am and from 04:00pm to 07:00pm. I did not tired yet the 4:30 in the morning and I am not sure I ever will. But I like to arrive here in the late afternoon before the quick sunset of the tropics sets in. The has a warmer tone but the sun is not so hot anymore. People come here stretch, to walk, jog, and practice. All walk anticlockwise with the slower on the outer lanes and the runner in the inner lanes. The impression is that people seem to talk at a lower tone or in whispers when walking next to each other. But it is just an impression. the place is quite open, there are no high building around the stadium. The breeze at times form the sea and at times form the nearby mountains carries the words away.
I stretch a little bit the legs which are already quite warm for the bicycle ride. Then stand up and start to walk with the flow. Select ‘Message in a Bottle’ and start to run at an easy pace in lane 5. I have not been running for some time. First I have been in Ha Noi alone while Katja was already here in the Philippines. The moving here. Looking for a house. The school. The work. A lot going on the last couple of months.
I reach the second turn and feel good. The knees are doing fine and Sting is singing in alive version of So Lonely. Somebody in lane 2 is doing 200m series. The recovers for 200m then again a sprint for 200m. I am tempted but better to leave it for in a month or so, depending how I can keep up with running between the trips for the work. The sun is setting behind the mountains its rays are spreading all over the blue sky. How strange to be here. Running on this track in a town that 6 months ago we never heard of. In the last few days I have felt more a sense of routine and normality. The fact that we now get our Guardian Weekly has of course helped. We are connected again!
Keep up my pace. Will do 14 loops today. Listening music. Breathing clean air. With the company of unknown fellow runners. The night will come quickly but for the time being we are ok. It is 90% humidity, 35C, and scattered clouds which are turning form white to orange hide the top of the vulcano which towers over the mountain range behind Dumaguete.
Here is my contribution on working remotely in the last issue of ODEye, the internal newsletter of the Overseas Development Institute (ODI)
Far away, but still so close (with a little help from IT and PRINCE2)
The Wim Wenders movie Der Himmel über Berlin is– the story of two angels who comfort mortals, but cannot be seen by them. Images from that movie came to mind when I was asked to contribute to ODEye and share thoughts on my work in RAPID and on the fact that I live overseas with my family, in Ha Noi for the last two years and soon in the Philippines. In one sequence, angels wander among the readers in a library, ‘hearing’ the minds of the people reading, but unable to speak to them or be seen. They are very close, but also very far away. I find it similar to my work with RAPID: I am a long way from my colleagues (seven hours ahead of GMT and 9.600 km from London), but feel quite close to them, thanks to the communication possibilities provided by our IT system, and the management processes that we are developing.
I joined RAPID in June 2008 after working with UNDP in Ha Noi , researching the 20 years of the Doi Moi reform. Before that, I had finalised my PhD and worked on civil society and local governance issues in GTZ projects in rural Cambodia. During my first six months at ODI, there have been two possible destinations for my relocation: Europe and Asia. The first never materialised because of the difficulties in finding relevant employment opportunities for my wife, Katja, who has now found a position in the Philippines. So I will manage my work for RAPID from there. One point from RAPID’s five year strategy grabbed my attention in summer 2008: the medium term goal of having RAPID staff relocated or seconded in the South and have staff from Southern institutes working in London I interpret ODI’s acceptance of my life overseas as a step towards that goal.
I am managing two main projects. First, a three year project funded by UNDP, providing support to evidence based policy development at the Vietnam Academy of Social Science (VASS). I am also facilitating the attempt to establish a South East Asia evidence-based policy in development network (ebpdn), as well as providing support to the existing South Asia network.
In my opinion, two elements are required to close the distance between Asia and London and allow good communication between myself and the team as well as the smooth running of projects where team members are based in different parts of the world.
First, a good IT infrastructure. Despite the effort required to learn to use and tailor SharePoint, I think it is a very useful tools. It always amazes me being, as I am now, at the Highland Coffee bar in Ha Noi typing these words, and being able to access my emails, upload and share files in the server in London. It is because of our IT infrastructure that, for example, I have been able to work with RAPID colleagues to coordinate a three day training session at ODI in London for economists from the Middle East and North Africa. In doing so, I have been able to exchange documents to describe roles, tasks and deadlines, discuss them through Messenger and organise Skype calls that often take place late in the evening for me, but reduces the number of short messages and emails back and forth.
Second, a structured management system that defines roles and responsibilities for project governance. I have been working with PRINCE2 for the last two years with UNDP, based on two main principles: product-based planning and regular reviews of project performance and product delivery. All UNDP staff must complete an official test and become certified in PRINCE2.
I remember looking at the boxes, arrows and lists in the manual and thinking: ‘Oh no, more bureaucracy!’, but my experience with PRINCE2 is now proving useful in my work with RAPID. For example, every week I prepare a highlight report for John Young, my Director and line manager, with a bullet list of the week’s activities and any comments or concerns. Every fortnight, I speak to John on Skype, using this report as an agenda. Another example concerns the governance of projects that involve a number of team members, as in my work with VASS. I have prepared a plan based on deliverables and products for the three years with inputs by team members so that they can plan ahead for missions to Ha Noi or home-based work. I have divided the project into six main activities and am preparing work packages for each to describe background, objective, products to be delivered (e.g. working paper or a training), and roles of team members. The aim is a standard approach to help all team members stay up to date with the project progress, and allow them to take up management responsibilities without too much effort.
None of this would be possible without ODI’s understanding of my family situation. I am close to my family and able to foster closer cooperation with partners in the region, reducing the time and cost of travel. However, I cannot access all the learning opportunities provided by ODI and I have fewer opportunities to get to know colleagues from other research groups. Nonetheless, I hope that the benefits of this experiment will outweigh the costs and that my colleagues will feel, with a bit of help from IT and PRINCE2, that I am even closer than an angel in a library.
Almost midnight. Quiet evening. House is almost empty of furniture. Luggage are ready upstairs. In few hours we will leave from Ha Noi.
We have been living here for two years and three months. This afternoon I was sitting in the garden in front of our house at the Swedish Camp in Ha Noi. It just stopped to rain. Drops where falling from the leaves of the bushes. Gray clouds and a nice breeze. I sipped my tea and looked at the big tree which overshadows the playground for the kids. I remember that tree few weeks ago when the temperature was right, or maybe the humidity, starting to pop its seeds. Brown, round and flat seeds as big as a 50 cents Euro coin, falling from the tree after a little pop, pop, pop, pop, pop….pop. What a nice, trees at this time of the year, with so many new and bright green leaves.
What are the images of Ha Noi that I will bring with me? Two come to my mind in this moment. The streets of Ha Noi and its traffic. The number of cars and motorbikes that has certainly increase in the last two years putting more and more pressure on the streets of this town which cannot grow more as they constrained by the many lakes of the city. The traffic and the noise as a sign of development and progress, but also the polluted air and me not giving up on my bicycle and feeling rather like a species into extinction.
The second image is the green of this island of peace which is where we live, the Swedish Camp. Just 200 hundred meters north of Ki Ma , one of the busiest streets of the town, we have had the luck of living in a green compound where in the morning is possible to listen to birds singing. Where I can sit, as I did today. Watching the drops from the rain falling one by on from the leaves of the bushes and trees of this
compound. I do not know how long will it take before this compound will make place to a high rising building. I hope not too soon. Anyhow this has been our island in this town Ha Noi, where we have leave two years of our lives and where we have seen Olga and Venla grow and play wit our Swedish friends .
Good bye Lang Thuy Dien. Good bye Ha Noi.
