New York times Article
Thursday, December 31, 2009
MicroSavings
Here is a great article by Nicholas Kristof, reporting from Esteli Nicaragua, on why savings programs for the poor are so important.
New York times Article
New York times Article
Monday, December 28, 2009
Parasitos
Well, I have a new topic to now blog about. I won't go into painful detail about it, but I seem to have contracted a parasite from either unsanitary water or food here in Nicaragua. I can't say that I'm too surprised, it was really only a matter of time. What did however take me aback a little bit was the visit to the hospital to see a doctor and get a lab test finished.
Knowing that Nicaraguan health care is free in public hospitals, and having heard many of the horror stories of awful doctors and hours-long lines, I decided that the better option would be to go to the private hospital down the road (where you have to pay a very small amount, but care is supposedly better). So I arrive and explain that I need to consult with a doctor. 200 cordobas ($10 dollars) upfront. OK. Next I enter a dingy dark hallway with peeling wallpaper and a foul odor (not of ammonia, like in the US, but something decidedly less pleasant). At the end of that hallway is a "waiting area" full of plastic chairs, some with 3 legs, some with four. Ants and other insects abound. After waiting about 30 minutes I gather there is only one doctor on staff, and one nurse who has me stand on a scale in the waiting room and takes my blood pressure as I wait. I am told the doctor is ready and go in and try to explain things about my digestive tract I never wanted to explain in English, let alone stumble through in Spanish.
Long story short, in all it cost $13.50 for this doctors visit (including the lab work). What I really got out of the visit, however, is that if this was the state of the private hospital, I probably never want to step foot into the government-run public hospitals. In this hospital there were gross one-stall bathrooms, and only one sink that didn't work and no soap in sight. I can't even fathom what public care must be like to induce people to come cough up the $10 or so instead that is probably at least a day's pay for most people. Sometimes the hardest thing of 3rd world country annoyances is that even as I'm sitting there in a frustrating situation thinking "this really sucks", the knowledge that 99% of the people living in this country have it much much worse than me makes me feel even more frustrated and grumpy.
On a brighter note, it appears that the government also subsidizes medicine here, as I took my slip saying what I needed to a pharmacy (well, three really, before I found one that had the medicine) and it costs approximately .75 cents for the entire dosage I needed. Now if only medicine in the US were so cheap!
Knowing that Nicaraguan health care is free in public hospitals, and having heard many of the horror stories of awful doctors and hours-long lines, I decided that the better option would be to go to the private hospital down the road (where you have to pay a very small amount, but care is supposedly better). So I arrive and explain that I need to consult with a doctor. 200 cordobas ($10 dollars) upfront. OK. Next I enter a dingy dark hallway with peeling wallpaper and a foul odor (not of ammonia, like in the US, but something decidedly less pleasant). At the end of that hallway is a "waiting area" full of plastic chairs, some with 3 legs, some with four. Ants and other insects abound. After waiting about 30 minutes I gather there is only one doctor on staff, and one nurse who has me stand on a scale in the waiting room and takes my blood pressure as I wait. I am told the doctor is ready and go in and try to explain things about my digestive tract I never wanted to explain in English, let alone stumble through in Spanish.
Long story short, in all it cost $13.50 for this doctors visit (including the lab work). What I really got out of the visit, however, is that if this was the state of the private hospital, I probably never want to step foot into the government-run public hospitals. In this hospital there were gross one-stall bathrooms, and only one sink that didn't work and no soap in sight. I can't even fathom what public care must be like to induce people to come cough up the $10 or so instead that is probably at least a day's pay for most people. Sometimes the hardest thing of 3rd world country annoyances is that even as I'm sitting there in a frustrating situation thinking "this really sucks", the knowledge that 99% of the people living in this country have it much much worse than me makes me feel even more frustrated and grumpy.
On a brighter note, it appears that the government also subsidizes medicine here, as I took my slip saying what I needed to a pharmacy (well, three really, before I found one that had the medicine) and it costs approximately .75 cents for the entire dosage I needed. Now if only medicine in the US were so cheap!
Saturday, December 26, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Americanizing the World
I will write a full account of our “trials and tribulations” this weekend very soon, but for now I just wanted to write a little observation. It is so different being here for Christmas—there are still Christmas trees, Christmas music (far too much of it, and the Spanish version of “Jingle Bells” is EVEN MORE annoying), and plenty of seasonal festivities. The middle class here all have their Christmas lights and big plastic Christmas trees in front of the doors. We even saw two real pine Christmas trees on top of a Chicken Bus being transported from the highland region of Matagalpa {where there are pines) to Managua this weekend. The thing that really sticks out to me actually is the lack of “Happy Hanukahs” and Hanukah decorations, oddly enough.
While in Managua this weekend we decided to make a stop in one of the five malls of the city (probably the only 5 in the country). It was rather amazing—my first time seeing an American-style mall in a third world country. Besides the lack of American stores, it was remarkably similar actually. Department stores, beauty shops, and even a sports store selling Nike gear at twice the American price. The food court included a Quiznos, Mr. Lee (Chinese food), Subway, Dominos, and then a variety of Nicaraguan McDonald-like chains (such as Tip Top, a chicken place). If I had glanced quickly I would never have known the difference between this food court and any food court in America, I swear. And at 2 pm on the Sunday before Christmas, the mall was packed. I can’t believe how far the “Americanization” of the world has spread—I mean Nicaragua is a country where the average GDP per person is some $2,000 a year. And the mall even included a Cinemark movie theater where we saw “Avatar”, the same day it was released in the U.S. I believe (although we only paid $3 a person, haha) It’s incredible how being so far from home I could feel so at home. In a place where I usually eat beans, rice, & tortillas at least once a day, wear my rattiest clothes, and go through the day smelling like dirt, dust, & sweat, to sit in an air-conditioned movie theater and consume a diet coke and snack was a blast of American culture much welcomed.
I feel slightly guilty being so “American” in Nicaragua, where I’m supposed to be soaking up their culture and living like they do. But let’s face it, they love American culture and integrate it into their lives whenever they can (at least those who have the money to). Most of the men here wear American baseball hats with Boston or the Yankees being the most popular teams, everyone and I mean even the poorest of the poor own a TV with American channels, I’ve heard more ABBA and Michael Jackson here than I ever wanted to listen too in my life, and coke, McDonalds, and pizza are available everywhere. There is even a TGI Fridays in Managua! And the reason for this is that America is “trendy” and goods from American are considered of better quality—even the Sandinistas can’t change this, although they try their damndest. This is the reason that their anti-American rhetoric doesn’t really sink in with people here anymore. It has every reason to, seeing as how we caused a war which killed thousands of their people, and have had some trade policies meant to actively ruin their economy. But people LOVE American stuff, and it is that consumerism and longing to live even more an American lifestyle that is keeping people from really hating us. So ironic.
While in Managua this weekend we decided to make a stop in one of the five malls of the city (probably the only 5 in the country). It was rather amazing—my first time seeing an American-style mall in a third world country. Besides the lack of American stores, it was remarkably similar actually. Department stores, beauty shops, and even a sports store selling Nike gear at twice the American price. The food court included a Quiznos, Mr. Lee (Chinese food), Subway, Dominos, and then a variety of Nicaraguan McDonald-like chains (such as Tip Top, a chicken place). If I had glanced quickly I would never have known the difference between this food court and any food court in America, I swear. And at 2 pm on the Sunday before Christmas, the mall was packed. I can’t believe how far the “Americanization” of the world has spread—I mean Nicaragua is a country where the average GDP per person is some $2,000 a year. And the mall even included a Cinemark movie theater where we saw “Avatar”, the same day it was released in the U.S. I believe (although we only paid $3 a person, haha) It’s incredible how being so far from home I could feel so at home. In a place where I usually eat beans, rice, & tortillas at least once a day, wear my rattiest clothes, and go through the day smelling like dirt, dust, & sweat, to sit in an air-conditioned movie theater and consume a diet coke and snack was a blast of American culture much welcomed.
I feel slightly guilty being so “American” in Nicaragua, where I’m supposed to be soaking up their culture and living like they do. But let’s face it, they love American culture and integrate it into their lives whenever they can (at least those who have the money to). Most of the men here wear American baseball hats with Boston or the Yankees being the most popular teams, everyone and I mean even the poorest of the poor own a TV with American channels, I’ve heard more ABBA and Michael Jackson here than I ever wanted to listen too in my life, and coke, McDonalds, and pizza are available everywhere. There is even a TGI Fridays in Managua! And the reason for this is that America is “trendy” and goods from American are considered of better quality—even the Sandinistas can’t change this, although they try their damndest. This is the reason that their anti-American rhetoric doesn’t really sink in with people here anymore. It has every reason to, seeing as how we caused a war which killed thousands of their people, and have had some trade policies meant to actively ruin their economy. But people LOVE American stuff, and it is that consumerism and longing to live even more an American lifestyle that is keeping people from really hating us. So ironic.
Micro-Finance in Leon
Yesterday we traveled about 3 hours up towards the north of the country to see the second important colonial city in Nicaragua, Leon. Leon and Granada have had a historic rivalry in terms of political power, Granada being the seat of the Conservatives, and Leon of the Liberals (which is kept alive today by the numerous universities there and the college-esque feel of the town). Leon was also the hometown of Ruben Dario, Nicaragua’s most famous poet.
While there we were meeting with a small MFI called “MiCredito” which operates in many towns giving loans to the poor who operate small businesses (such as fruit stands, pottery, small farms). These are people who usually would not be able to get a loan from the bank because of their lack of funds, and instead if they wanted to scale up their business and make more money would need to borrow money from loan sharks who charge upwards of 100% interest. MiCredito offers a fair interest rate as well as business skills training and guidance, savings accounts for their clients, and remittance services. Although I’ve read and heard a lot about micro-finance secondhand, this was my first time actually getting to see the process and speak with the high-ups directly. Veronica, the CFO, accompanied us to Leon and was extremely knowledgeable about the business.
On the crowded side streets of Leon we met Lesbia (a fairly common name here, believe it or not), a 22 year old woman who makes a living along with her mother and sisters selling fruit in the hot sun all day. She has a 3 year old and 1 ½ year old, and she and her husband Javier live on her $5 a day salary. She had requested a $500 loan over the course 9 months in order to buy more inventory for her stand. We accompanied a credit agent out to meet with her, see her stand, what she would use the money for, etc. She seemed nervous about talking with us but very nice, and we also went with them across town to see her house and her mother’s house (the credit agent was assessing the collateral she was guaranteeing the loan with—in this case a stereo and 2 TVs).
The state of the houses was pretty shocking, especially after seeing her and her smiling daughter looking so “normal” out on the street. The house (or rather, really a shack) was a crumbling adobe room, with a tin roof and no running water. The only pieces of furniture in the house were a small stove, a bed with no mattress, a hammock, a small table without chairs, and a TV and stereo. No bathroom, only one light, no real shelter from a hard rain or from the heat. The dirt floor, faint odor surrounding the house, and the decrepit state of everything except the electronics was a huge incongruity. The priorities of the very poor are sometimes appalling to me, and it is hard not to judge, although of course I try not to—I try to remember that if I had grown up in similar poverty and without an education as well, I would probably have the same outlook on things. But it’s really hard to imagine saving up to buy a $200 TV instead of putting a cement floor in the house, or buying the children a mattress to sleep on or toys to play with. But such is life—and as later explained by Veronica, in poor communities, having a TV and good sound systems are symbols of status and class in the community, not having them would mean being ostracized.
(a heard of cattle crossing the road in front of us on the way back to Managua)
At the end of the day, nothing is black and white, and everyone has a right to decide what to spend their money on, even the very poor. But hopefully with a micro-loan and an increased profit from the business, Lesbia will be able to keep her TV and start working on some other things like health care and a cement floor to protect her kids from disease, and also hopefully be able to send them to school when they’re old enough. No matter what other projects development focuses on, what is really needed is education for the children. This is how people can really start changing their lives and being empowered, and why micro-finance usually lends only to women-- while the men might spend their money on beer (or TVs)women tend to spend it on food and education.
All in all a somewhat frustrating, but very necessary and educational experience.
While there we were meeting with a small MFI called “MiCredito” which operates in many towns giving loans to the poor who operate small businesses (such as fruit stands, pottery, small farms). These are people who usually would not be able to get a loan from the bank because of their lack of funds, and instead if they wanted to scale up their business and make more money would need to borrow money from loan sharks who charge upwards of 100% interest. MiCredito offers a fair interest rate as well as business skills training and guidance, savings accounts for their clients, and remittance services. Although I’ve read and heard a lot about micro-finance secondhand, this was my first time actually getting to see the process and speak with the high-ups directly. Veronica, the CFO, accompanied us to Leon and was extremely knowledgeable about the business.
On the crowded side streets of Leon we met Lesbia (a fairly common name here, believe it or not), a 22 year old woman who makes a living along with her mother and sisters selling fruit in the hot sun all day. She has a 3 year old and 1 ½ year old, and she and her husband Javier live on her $5 a day salary. She had requested a $500 loan over the course 9 months in order to buy more inventory for her stand. We accompanied a credit agent out to meet with her, see her stand, what she would use the money for, etc. She seemed nervous about talking with us but very nice, and we also went with them across town to see her house and her mother’s house (the credit agent was assessing the collateral she was guaranteeing the loan with—in this case a stereo and 2 TVs).
The state of the houses was pretty shocking, especially after seeing her and her smiling daughter looking so “normal” out on the street. The house (or rather, really a shack) was a crumbling adobe room, with a tin roof and no running water. The only pieces of furniture in the house were a small stove, a bed with no mattress, a hammock, a small table without chairs, and a TV and stereo. No bathroom, only one light, no real shelter from a hard rain or from the heat. The dirt floor, faint odor surrounding the house, and the decrepit state of everything except the electronics was a huge incongruity. The priorities of the very poor are sometimes appalling to me, and it is hard not to judge, although of course I try not to—I try to remember that if I had grown up in similar poverty and without an education as well, I would probably have the same outlook on things. But it’s really hard to imagine saving up to buy a $200 TV instead of putting a cement floor in the house, or buying the children a mattress to sleep on or toys to play with. But such is life—and as later explained by Veronica, in poor communities, having a TV and good sound systems are symbols of status and class in the community, not having them would mean being ostracized.
(a heard of cattle crossing the road in front of us on the way back to Managua)
At the end of the day, nothing is black and white, and everyone has a right to decide what to spend their money on, even the very poor. But hopefully with a micro-loan and an increased profit from the business, Lesbia will be able to keep her TV and start working on some other things like health care and a cement floor to protect her kids from disease, and also hopefully be able to send them to school when they’re old enough. No matter what other projects development focuses on, what is really needed is education for the children. This is how people can really start changing their lives and being empowered, and why micro-finance usually lends only to women-- while the men might spend their money on beer (or TVs)women tend to spend it on food and education.
All in all a somewhat frustrating, but very necessary and educational experience.
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