"We were given the commandment early on not to design anything that looks weird," said Jeffrey Fugate. "We have tried very hard to create something that is culturally appropriate."
In collaboration with Oxfam America, MIT graduate students in Reinhard Goethert's class have come up with a plan that does a whole lot more than meet that rural aesthetic. Goethert and his students worked closely with Oxfam partner organization TRAC, the Terrebonne Readiness and Assistance Coalition, to learn how their ideas could be matched with needs in the local community.
What sets the Lift House apart from other housing programs is that it attempts to combine a concern for affordability with hurricane-ready sturdiness, and ease of construction—easy enough to turn a crew of hammer-swinging volunteers loose on the project.
Volunteers serve another purpose besides making the Lift House affordable. Their energy and enthusiasm also help strengthen a community's foundation.
"You can make this a festival of rebuilding the community," said Reinhard Goethert, director of MIT's SIGUS, or the Special Interest Group in Urban Settlement. "It's not just a physical house. You're stabilizing and rebuilding the community. People want to help. I think this is a good way to do it."
With an above normal hurricane season forecast for this year, and weather patterns that could produce storms of increased frequency and intensity for years to come, the Lift House approach may offer a sustainable housing approach to communities throughout the Gulf Coast.
Last January, when Fugate visited Dulac, Louisiana, a poor bayou community in Terrebonne Parish, he was struck by how precarious the setting was for homes—low, muddy, and not far from the wind-whipped waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
"It's a beautiful but not a gentle landscape," said Fugate.
The students' objective was to design a bayou home that would neither flood nor get blown away. They had to take into account the corrosive salt water, soggy ground, and winds tearing across the flatlands at hurricane speed—all the while remembering the admonition that "weirdness" could sink even the best of ideas.
Coupled with that warning was the students' recognition that regardless of how hard they studied the place, they would never know it as well as the locals. When Fugate suggested that carpeting would make a good floor cover for a house lifted high above flood waters, he found himself corrected: In the muddy bayou, shoes caked with muck are a fact of life. Better to install easy-to-clean tiling than carpets.
"It's a two-way learning street," said Fugate.
Among the design features the SIGUS group did settle on was a hipped roof—"it's sloped on all four sides, like a pyramid, it's more aerodynamic and less prone to lift," said Fugate, "and it has a 'floating foundation,' meaning a concrete slab that can move with the shifting soils that are a reality in low-lying bayous." Pilings through the foundation anchor the home and are deep enough to support a house lashed by fierce winds and storm surges.
"If you're going to splurge a little, splurge on the roof and foundations," said Fugate. "If you can keep your house from floating away or leaking, that's half the battle."
The design calls for volunteers to build homes that eventually stand high above the ground—a place most workers are wary of going.
"Our idea is to build the house low and then lift it onto pilings when it's completed. Volunteers—and professionals—get nervous when they have to work on a platform," said Fugate. "To my knowledge, no one who uses volunteers has looked at stilt housing before. The big idea of building it on the ground and lifting it on stilts is our solution."
The students are still exploring the most efficient—and most affordable—means of lifting the house once it is built. One technique student Matt Hodge finds compelling is a chain hoist, which uses a pulley set on top of the pilings to hoist the house with chains.
"It's potentially safer because you don't have anyone under the house while you're lifting," said Hodge, whose background is in civil engineering.
With the design 98 percent complete, the next stage of the effort calls for the SIGUS group to work with local engineers to approve the concept and create a set of drawings that meet local building codes, said Goethert.
"When you talk about new ways of doing things, it takes a lot of talk," said Goethert. "You've got to change mindsets."
SIGUS and MIT are planning a two-week program in July for MIT volunteers interested in helping TRAC move forward in the realization of the first of these homes and to help repair damaged houses in the bayou. In the first house to test and design, contractors will set the pilings and build the bulk of the homes themselves, with volunteers being used to help with the finish work inside.
Once the design and construction kinks are ironed out, Oxfam and MIT hope to see other volunteers and local community groups pick up the design, enlist an army of helpers, and begin to build affordable, storm-resistant houses wherever people need them.
To help those crews avoid potential pitfalls in the process, SIGUS students are also developing a hands-on guide for the aid groups. Called "Going Up?" it will be chockfull of tips on smart ways to work with coastal communities and on coordinating all the different elements—supplies, engineering, design, construction, finance—needed to get the project accomplished.
"All too often, academics' great ideas never have the opportunity to be tested in the real world, while local community groups rarely have the resources to tap the best and the brightest or apply innovative concepts born in the classroom to their local realities," said Bernadette Orr, Oxfam's Gulf Coast emergency program manager.
"The Lift House project will be an opportunity for MIT and TRAC to bring those two worlds together in a way that will create tangible benefits all around. We know that the Lift House is going to attract a lot of attention and, we hope, replication once it goes up.
"We plan to help promote the manual with local groups working on affordable housing all along the Gulf Coast, so there could be many Lift Houses that eventually get constructed from Mississippi west to Lake Charles."
]]>But now Hanshaw, and a growing number of other women in the Gulf Coast community, have a new foundation from which to begin rebuilding part of their lives: Coastal Women for Change, or CWC, a fledgling group of newborn activists determined have a say in the recovery of their neighborhoods.
Whatever the 2006 hurricane season brings, CWC may serve as a buffer to additional hardship. It has taught many of the women that each of them has a voice, and those voices count—individually and collectively.
"Our mission is to empower these women with knowledge of what they can do," said Hanshaw, the group's new director. "It's unlimited. You can build. You can go back to school. You can call your local officials. You can talk to them. They're there for us."
Now numbering about 25 regular members, with a core group of 10, CWC was launched with the help of Safiya Daniels, a community development specialist for Oxfam America, who has been working chiefly in Biloxi and Gulfport.
"One big difference that I saw between these two cities was the existence of organized community groups," said Daniels. "I realized that outside of the churches, Biloxi had none. I also noticed there was very little institutionalized female leadership in Biloxi."
Daniels also worried that there seemed to be few community gatherings in Biloxi to discuss what direction the city was taking as it began recovering from Katrina. Long-range community planning was not on anyone's neighborhood radar screen.
"This was a dangerous situation," said Daniels. "Everyone else was making a plan: casino developers, condo developers, and the city, but there was very little evidence of broad community participation."
She knew the concern was there—"in every community there are lots of concerned women who want a vibrant, healthy, and safe community for their families to live in"—but how to turn that interest into action was the missing piece. So, Daniels called a meeting.
"I brought a group of women together to talk about what was happening in their community, what issues and problems they faced, and how these could be addressed," said Daniels.
That first meeting grew into a series of sessions which blossomed into action, spawned weekly gatherings, attracted new members, and finally gave birth to an official group with a name and stated mission. Its goal is this: "to make a difference in our communities through securing and revitalizing our neighborhoods." Information sharing is the critical tool in achieving that end.
"I don't want people to be left out," said Hanshaw. "I want to give them knowledge. Knowledge is power."
Knowledge starts with asking questions, and one of the first events CWC sponsored was a Biloxi community forum to which it invited the mayor, city councilors, and members of the city planning department. Questions abounded—about flood elevations mapped out by the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA), about affordable housing, about displaced people. Nearly 200 residents showed up for the forum.
Attendees not only got some answers, some of them learned a deeper lesson as well.
"Democracy works only if people make it work," said Daniels. "And we do that by holding people accountable. There possibly has never been a time during the mayor's 13-year tenure that he found himself in such a position, being watched and held accountable by this particular community, and in such a public way."
Asking questions is the first step. Having a say in the answers is the next step. Right away, CWC members sought seats on a planning commission formed by Biloxi Mayor A.J. Holloway. Called Reviving the Renaissance Committee, it was given 90 days to come up with a plan for the city's recovery.
Five CWC members have been weighing in on matters of finance, education, land use, and affordable housing—the subcommittees for which they signed up. And people are beginning to listen to CWC's opinions.
"We are in the paper every week," said Hanshaw, adding that she gets the sense she is even making some of the powerbrokers nervous.
"They try to turn their heads when I come up," she said. "Especially the developers. They don't want to talk to me. They know where I stand."
For Cass Woods, working with CWC has given her a direct link to her community, and that link is allowing her to make things better all around.
"It makes me feel good to help someone," said Woods, who has been living in a government issue trailer—the size of a matchbox, she said—parked in her back yard for months. "That's what has helped me get through my loss."
With a $30,000 seed grant from the 21st Century Foundation, CWC will be able to pay Hanshaw a salary, purchase office supplies, and begin to look ahead at how to fund itself into the future.
Meanwhile, the organization is undertaking a new task: a survey of East Biloxi to find out the childcare needs of the community's residents. To renew its license, a local day care organization is being required to assess the need for its services in the area.
"This is our first project," said Hanshaw. "Another accomplishment under our belts."
And it's just the kind of project Daniels had a hunch a group like CWC could offer the community.
"The needs of the community will drive what CWC takes on," said Daniels. With those needs being constant—as they are in every community—Daniels expects the new organization to have a long and productive life.
"It's going to stand on its own. I am confident of that," she said. "I could see it truly growing into a coastwide organization."
]]>Last September, coffee farmers from seven countries traveled to Salvador, Brazil, to add their voices to the World Coffee Conference, a special meeting of the International Coffee Organization. The ICO is an intergovernmental organization that brings together coffee-producing and coffee-consuming countries.
The World Coffee Conference kicked off Oxfam America's campaign to influence the next International Coffee Agreement. That agreement was a key issue at the ICO meeting in London this past week, but no specific proposals were forthcoming to solve those ongoing economic problems.
Oxfam has been working to make the agreement better reflect the needs and concerns of small-scale farmers who are struggling with the changing face of the coffee crisis.
"I wonder if the participants at the World Coffee Conference know what the coffee crisis has truly meant for producers," said Pradeep Nandipur of the Karnataka Growers Federation in India.
"In my region, farmers committed suicide because they could see no way out of their mounting debt. They had no way to repay it because their income was gone."
To survive these challenges, farmers and farmworkers said they require some stability, the kind that only comes through long-term capital investment, access to markets, and political representation.
When the international price of coffee dropped to historic lows in 2001, family farmers in places like Guatemala and Ethiopia fell into crisis.
With a glut of coffee on the market, many couldn't find buyers for their crops. Others couldn't pull in enough profits to pay off their farming expenses and feed their children.
Many farmers who survived the price drop were members of fair trade cooperatives. By agreeing to certain principles, such as transparency with members, democratic elections, and setting aside a percentage of profits for the community, cooperative members received a guaranteed minimum price for their crop.
"When the prices were low, fair trade was the best market we had," said Moise Coz, administrator of the IJATZ coop in Guatemala.
Farmers who were part of fair trade cooperatives said they made enough money to buy food, clothe and educate their children, and buy more farmland. Some coops even had enough money to buy mills to process their own coffee or to help local schools buy chalkboards and desks.
But even as farmers were counting the benefits of their fair trade premium, the crisis was changing. The price of coffee began to recover, creating competition between the coops and local middlemen representing importers or mega-roasters.
Some farmers now find themselves in an awkward position. They can sell their coffee to their cooperative for less and wait a few months for payment. Or they can sell to middlemen, called coyotes, willing to pay a higher up-front price.
The cooperatives try to remain competitive by using some of their savings to pay the difference between their price and the coyotes' price. But many fall short.
They need to use their savings to pay the administrative staff or electricity bill. In the end, the best thing cooperatives can do is try to remind farmers that what goes up must come down. When the international price drops, the cooperatives will be the only ones offering a price safety net and specialized training.
"We explain why they aren't receiving the money up front. We have costs to pay off," states Guillermo Campa, President of the IJATZ cooperative.
"We tell them that they need to think about the future. Think about the price dropping like it did in the past. If they work with fair trade, they can have a stable price."
But that argument doesn't always work. "People who live day to day can't just depend on what happened in the past," said Carlos Reynoso, manager of Manos Campesinas cooperative in Guatemala.
So how do coffee cooperatives respond? How do they get their members to sell them enough coffee so they can fulfill their contracts with importers and roasters? And how does the International Coffee Organization help?
Stronger cooperatives are more competitive in a fluctuating market. In order to get there, cooperatives need access to debt refinancing, low-interest loans for working capital, long-term capital investment, information, and markets. With a voice at the ICO, small-scale farmers and their cooperatives can advocate for these interests.
At the World Coffee Conference, Oxfam America and its partners presented coffee producing and consuming countries with a declaration articulating the needs of small-scale farmers and their cooperatives. The declaration calls for these issues to be addressed in the next International Coffee Agreement.
This is just one component of a strategy to give the world's 25 million coffee farmers a real chance to do what they've done for generations—and turn a profit that makes it all worthwhile.
"We need to take advantage of this historic opportunity," said Seth Petchers, Coffee Program Manager at Oxfam America. "We can use these negotiations to put measures in place that better address what these farmers face."
]]>But proverbs can evolve over time and no longer be accepted as true. As communities become more educated, they may update their perspective. In one village in Oromiya, future proverbs may reflect the wisdom of educating women and the changes in communities when this occurs.
Like many places, Southwest Shewa in Oromiya has a history of practices that harm women. Traditional culture here often oppresses women, whether involving female circumcision (genital mutilation), early marriage, abduction, battery, or the inheritance of a wife upon the death of her husband.
What is called "culture" often reflects matters of convenience. The abduction of women for marriage has increased as the economy has declined, since husbands no longer want to pay for weddings and dowries. Inheriting a wife from a dead relative is another way of keeping land in the family. An economy of subjugation serves to control women who do most of the work in a household. And female circumcision is thought to dampen a woman's sexual desires, making her calmer, less willful and uncontrollable, less likely to "break everything." Some of these practices, especially female circumcision, are perpetuated by women themselves, concerned that their daughters will be unmarriageable unless they follow established tradition.
Yet one village in Southwest Shewa is starting to change such practices. Oxfam America, through a partner organization, the Oromo Self-Reliance Association (OSRA), began the reeducation process in Adaa Berga district eight months ago. Women and men in the communities are learning about women’s rights and initiating their own changes to harmful practices. This training is coupled with a livelihoods project, the establishment of a cereal bank run by women. The cereal bank, where grain is stored to be sold when prices are high, empowers women by providing them with some economic security and supplementary income. Women must take the civic education course as a condition of joining the women's cooperative. That powerful combination makes both the education and the cooperative more effective.
The Oxfam-supported women-run cooperative has named itself Qubse, which means "hope for the future." The women on the committee have all attended OSRA trainings, enabling them to become advocates in their own communities. But "hope for the future" is not limited to economic growth through the cereal bank. It means realizing the dream of a better life for each woman and her neighbor, a life of rights and respect for themselves and future generations.
The education has been an eye-opening experience for many people in the community. For some, the lessons have come late in life, but the whole community stands to benefit—especially the girls.
Mulu Gofta, a 45-year-old mother of four, is clear about what she hopes for the future. "One thing the good life means to me is educating your children. You support your daughters in education. First they will help me, then they will help the community, and in a few years they will help our people."
It is a sentiment that is echoed by others, most notably by 46-year-old Abebu Kebebe. For nearly a decade, Abebu has struggled as head of her household, a single mother widowed and left with nine children. Like many others in the community, she speaks of educating her daughter, saying, "That is the good life. That is the good hope for me. Also, this will be helping my neighbors and being an example."
Several years ago, Abebu forced one daughter into marriage at age 11. Her daughter left school, where she was in 4th grade. Now, after attending the OSRA training funded by Oxfam, Abebu has changed her outlook on early marriage and other traditional practices.
She says: "Now that I've had training on harmful practices—early marriage, female circumcision, abduction—I really regret doing what I did to my children. I married [them] off before I learned. Had I the chance again, I would not do it." Within months, Abebu has changed her opinions on the treatment of women, becoming an advocate for change. "I don't only stop at regretting what I have done," she says. "I share what I have learned with my neighbors, with relatives. I'm doing my best."
Abebu’s voice rings out proudly. She has met more than her share of hardships and is not afraid of change that will ease life for future generations of women. Her face framed in a black headscarf, she sits regally among the women, respected and liked by the community. Her shoes are unlaced and made of plastic, her skin is prematurely aged by the sun, and a life of labor stretches behind her. Ahead of her is a future that she can watch taking shape in other women in her own village. She is fearless, sharing her knowledge and teaching from her own experience—her own regrets.
It is through such discussion and sharing of information that what once was an oddity can become accepted. Twenty-five-year-old Meseret Nugussie, herself circumcised, speaks passionately about what she has learned and how she will apply her knowledge: "I know the problems now of circumcision. I have two girls and I will make sure it does not happen to them."
For Meseret's daughters, it is not too late. Major change in this village happens one daughter at a time.
Abebu now views her 8-year-old daughter Tiya differently than her previous children. With Tiya there is another chance, a hope for the future—Qubse. Abebu is now a different woman than a year ago, as she vows, "I will educate her until my last breath leaves." Perhaps one day that will be the village’s new proverb.
]]>Shito Massele, a 30-year-old mother of four, sits outside, her back against the warehouse wall. She is one of 96 members of the Qubse cooperative, a cereal bank run by women and funded by Oxfam. In a community where women previously were not consulted on business decisions, today they are ensuring economic and food security for themselves and their families. In fact, their work will turn a profit, generating additional income for their village.
"Before, the women were not even supposed to come near the scale," Shito says. "Now we can weigh things ourselves, our own grain." On this property, the women are not just weighing the grain; they are also fixing the price and deciding when and where to sell it. The land is theirs as well, donated by the village administration.
The cereal bank began nine months ago, with help from Oxfam America and OSRA and the encouragement of the village administration. Given a warehouse and seed money, the cooperative now controls the purchase, storage, and sale of grain.
In Oromiya region, where the project is based, having control of these basic factors has a huge impact. Before the cooperative was established, farmers were forced to sell most of their crops immediately after harvest to settle loans and taxes. During the rainy season, grain was scarce and prices rose. To feed their families, farmers were forced to take out more loans at high interest rates—sometimes simply to buy back their own crops, continuing the cycle of poverty.
The new cereal bank has enabled the community to store some of its harvest, setting grain aside for sale during the rainy season when the market price is high. The women thereby make a profit and ensure food stability for the next planting season.
The cereal bank's organizers stipulated that each prospective member had to attend civic education classes focusing on women's rights. The combined impact of both the classes and the cereal bank has been enormous.
Following the training, attitudes toward traditional practices harmful to women have changed noticeably. Furthermore, the women have proved themselves just as capable of earning an income as men are, thereby gaining the respect of the entire community. Indeed, many farmers prefer to sell their grain to the cooperative because of its reputation for honesty; the women will not try to cheat the farmer.
Being valued in the community is new to the women, but hard work is not. Before the cereal bank, women had little power, according to 46-year-old Abebu Kebebe. She recites her daily activities in a monotone, as if it is a chant she is used to repeating:
"For us it is clear that men are not stronger than us. Early in the morning, I clean the house and take care of the animals, travel two hours to collect murky water, return, cook, take care of the children. It is the oldest burden. Nothing is as simple as it seems. We do a lot of work the whole day, but [the men] move oxen and plow for an afternoon and come home. They move the animals and consider they moved a mountain."
Now, however, the women make all decisions involving the cereal bank, and are able to control their finances and ensure their own economic security.
The success of the Qubse cooperative has not gone unnoticed in neighboring villages. Three kilometers away, another group of women approached OSRA and their village administration, asking if they too could start a similar project. Dirre Dame, 67, chairwoman of the new cooperative, says it began because "we were encouraged by the group, so we organized ourselves, inspired."
The new cooperative, Association Gura, has only been around for a month, but the impact on the women is already noticeable as they plan what to do with the eventual profits. This is the first time these women have had any economic power. In a village where the nearest school is a three-hour walk away, women see this is the beginning of change and a better life for their children.
Some of the changes may seem basic: food, clothes, education for their children. Other women have bigger dreams, hoping to invest in land or animals some day. Right now, however, they focus on meeting the basic necessities, including a secure source of food. They plan eventually to build a small health clinic with the profits, noting that many women die in childbirth because there is no clinic nearby.
Regatto Bedhasa, a 57-year-old mother of six, explains what empowering women to take control of their lives has meant to her community:
"This becomes a hope for us," she says. "We can change our life without having been educated, without knowledge, without experience. We can change our situation."
]]>Six grassroots environmentalists from Kentucky, Liberia, China, Brazil, Ukraine, and Papua New Guinea were each presented with a $125,000 prize at an awards ceremony in San Francisco.
"All of them have fought, often alone and at great personal risk, to protect the environment in their home countries," said Goldman Prize founder Richard N. Goldman. "Their incredible achievements are an inspiration to all of us."
Dr. Yu was recognized for the groundbreaking watershed management programs he developed after studying the social and environmental effects of a dam built on China's Lashi Lake region. The dam destroyed the local fish stock and eroded the lakeshore where many farmers grew their crops.
According to a statement from the Goldman Prize, "His reports are considered a primary reason that the central government paid additional restitution to villagers displaced by existing dams and now considers social impact assessments for major dam developments."
Since the Goldman Environmental Prize was established in 1990, only 113 individuals from 67 countries have been recognized. Prize winners are selected by an international jury of peers, environmental organizations and individuals.
This is the third environmental prize Dr. Yu has won in the past year. Green Watershed won first prize in the environmental protection category of a Ford Motor Company conservation and environmental grants competition. The organization was also one of 10 winners in a contest sponsored by Beijing's Economic Observer and Shell, which recognized groups that designed outstanding sustainable development projects in China.
Warwick Browne, a program officer leading Oxfam's watershed management work in Asia, said Dr. Yu is a member of a brave group of leaders in the Chinese civil society movement.
"People like Dr. Yu are attracting national and international attention for encouraging local communities to participate in the development decisions that shape their daily lives," Browne said.
]]>They want to sidestep outside lenders who charge exorbitant interest rates.
They want to put their savings somewhere safe, instead of hiding it in a suitcase or cupboard.
And they want to keep their money in the community so they can make loans to villagers, and pay for health care, education, farm tools, or extra help. For countless poor people around the world, having a safe place to save and access to that savings when a need arises means a way out of poverty.
"I want to use the money to buy a rice mill," says Ros Dy, a rice and vegetable farmer. "A rice mill is very good to keep in the group."
While an estimated 60 million of the world's self-employed have access to small loans from NGOs or private lenders, at least 200 million more are too poor or live in areas too remote for such services.
Oxfam America is working with local partners in Cambodia, Mali, and Senegal to develop a community finance approach that trains poor people to save what they can and distribute it within their villages—for an investment of about $20 per savings group member.
Oxfam and its partners use this methodology to combat poverty on a large scale with low costs, local control, and an easy-to-replicate format, said Jeffrey Ashe, the manager of the Community Finance program.
"What you want to do is drop that pebble in the water and see the ripples spread," he said.
How do you to teach the world's poorest people to save when many cannot read or write? Through active participation, Ashe said.
When Oxfam staff traveled to Mali in February to train Senegalese and Malian partners on how to form savings groups, they learned that some Western methods—like drawing on paper with markers—didn't really work too well.
"But if you drew in the dirt, people understood because they could do it themselves," Ashe said.
In May, that theme carried through to Cambodia, where Oxfam staff watched its local partner, the Centre d'Etude et de Développement Agricole Cambodgien (CEDAC), trade stories with villagers as a way to get them talking.
By asking questions and responding through stories, savings groups could decide who got a loan and at what interest rate. And they could establish rules for when money should be repaid.
"It's all very discussion-based," Ashe said. "You ask, ‘What would you like to do with your money? Well, how much would that cost?'"
By June, Oxfam staff and local partners were watching their simple, accessible approach take off.
In West Africa, partners Conseil et Appui pour l'Education a la Base (CAEB) and Le Tonus reported forming more than 200 village savings groups with an average of 24 members each in just six weeks. Some planned on divvying up the cash to individuals at the end of the saving cycle, while others focused on using the money to benefit the whole community—purchasing a grain mill or cultivating vegetables for sale at local markets.
In Cambodia, CEDAC reported plans to retrain its current base of 700 savings groups and add 300 new groups in just one year of using the new methodology. Ashe said CEDAC is in a position to actually accomplish it.
They have plenty of experience pulling communities together. Many of their savings groups are actually farmer associations that focused on specific high-yield agriculture techniques. Others had formed to work as self-help groups. Transitioning intosavings represents a natural progression.
But it can work in the other direction, too. Once a savings group is formed, it can take on other goals, like agriculture, health issues, or literacy. First though, the partners have to build up trust with villagers, said Vincent Wierda, the Community Finance Specialist in Oxfam's East Asia office.
"When it comes to saving together, it's a test of leadership to manage and protect the money jointly," Wierda said. Partners like "CEDAC allow a community to get used to the idea before pooling their money like this."
This is the first step in a long process of community finance, Wierda said. "Within four to six years, most of these villages should have the resources to effect change in their communities."
]]>Five men from the Community Cooperative for Rural Development, or CCRD, an Oxfam partner organization, stood along the mill's perimeter, watching it work. Serious and proud, they admired their prize: the only certified organic rice mill in the country.
Cambodian rice farmers, long vulnerable to fluctuating prices and heavy regional competition, are looking to organic rice to help them carve out a niche in the market. As eating healthily has become more popular around the world, so has organic food. Organic products sell for a higher price than conventionally farmed food. In a country where more than a third of the population lives on less than $1 a day and more than half depends on agriculture, the organic advantage could translate into a reliable and steady income.
"The momentum is really growing," said Le Thi Nguyet Minh, an Oxfam America program officer in the East Asia office. "We need to maintain it."
Maintaining the organic momentum requires establishing farming cooperatives, which are equipped to work in the organic market. This transition represents a huge practical and emotional leap for many Khmer farmers.
The bloody civil war and subsequent genocide that ravaged Cambodia left many Khmer people distrustful of both their neighbors—and any sort of collective work, said Yann Omer-Kassin, an Oxfam Quebec field advisor supporting CCRD.
Even the words "farming cooperative" pose a problem. In Khmer, they translate into "work camp," a term that conjures up painful fears or memories of Khmer Rouge death camps. Many of the people Kassin talked to in Pursat said they were wary of joining a farming coop "because it's linked to a horrible past."
Because of these cultural sensitivities, CCRD staff work slowly and patiently to convert farmers to organic production. They spend much of their time simply building trust in the cooperative concept. They point to the tangible benefits of organic production.
Farmers are encouraged to use animal manure instead of chemical fertilizers—a requirement of organic certification. The resulting savings can be used—to grow other crops, or send children to school. If farmers use natural fertilizer, they can also prevent illness. Many farmers and farm workers get sick because they can't read the labels on the chemicals they use. Many of the chemicals are so dangerous they're prohibited in other countries.
Tang Eum, 47, a rice farmer in Pursat, said she began farming organic rice three years ago. She said natural fertilizer doesn't always produce as much rice as chemical fertilizer. But she's willing to accept that tradeoff if it means her family and friends won't get sick.
CCRD has converted at least 75 of the 1,500 farmers in its collective to farm organic. Their support is crucial. Many of the rice farmers face the same challenges organic and fair trade coffee farmers saw when they first learned about the new model. Many have farmed small plots with chemicals for generations. They need help learning new agriculture techniques so that they can someday grow as much rice as they had before.
Then they need help getting the experience, technical assistance, and market access to pull it all off.
It is a challenging task, CCRD workers said. But knowing what they do about the potential benefits keeps them motivated. Eventually they want to help local farmers not only farm organically, but take the next logical step, and sell to the fair trade market.
Fair Trade Certified™ products are high quality and grown through practices friendly to the environment. Farmers receive a minimum price even when the market price is low. According to a 2005 market study, if farmers made the transition from conventional growing to fair trade organic they could see their profits more than double.
Sitting at a wood table outside her house in Pursat, Tang Eum said she knows what she wants to do with that extra money. A mother and a businesswoman, she would use it to support her family and sell her rice.
"I want to use the money to send my children to school," she said. "And I want to buy a moto to go to the market in town."
]]>The sound of the rain woke him up. He nudged his wife, asking if she heard it too. Pregnant and tired, she told him to go back to sleep.
"When I woke up again, I opened the door and mud was everywhere. All the kids were screaming," Carlos recalled in February. "We ran from the house, with mud up to our waists."
As the Ajznels sprinted for shelter, the rain poured. Boulders tumbled. Mudslides cut through the earth. Hurricane Stan unloaded on Guatemala, reworking the landscape, and leaving some of its deepest scars on the country's small-scale coffee farms.
Many farmers, like Ajznel, lost their homes and the means to support their families. Coffee trees were infected by fungus, or buried under mud and rocks. Individual coffee farmers said the storm wiped out between 25 and 100 percent of their coffee production.
Five months after the storm, Oxfam America staffers traveled to Guatemala to assess the damage and determine what it would take to rebuild the lives of small-scale coffee farmers.
"Looking at the devastation, you realized what used to be there, that it was someone's income. Then you thought about what it would take to bring it all back," said Seth Petchers, Oxfam America's coffee program manager.
Guatemala's volcanoes and rolling hills provided a perfect funnel for the rain and mud from the hurricane. Much of what was dislodged finally settled on coffee farming communities, located in the high elevations that produce quality beans.
Members of an Oxfam partner cooperative in La Unidad, a village at the base of a mountain in the Tajumulco region, found their community split down the middle by the hurricane. Two concrete bridges that had connected the village collapsed during the storm, taking some riverside homes with them.
"When it started to rain and the river swelled, we left our house knowing that something was going to happen," said Lidia Perez Chavez, 22, a member of the APECAFORM cooperative. "We only took the children and the clothes we were wearing. Afterward, we had lots of trouble. We could only eat once a day because we had so little firewood."
In San Lucas Tolimàn, a community near Lake Atitlan, Don Antonio Chavajay Ixtamer estimated that 80 percent of his land was affected. Walking through his property, he pointed to newly formed ravines, uprooted shade trees, and coffee trees buried under mud, boulders, and silt.
Ixtamer, who is the president of a coffee coop called La Voz, said he intends to replant. But it will take at least four years for the new trees to bear fruit. And while he and his family are doing the recovery work on their own land, they'll lose out on the supplemental income they would have earned doing off-season work in the city or on someone else's farm.
But at least Ixtamer has some coffee trees left to harvest. Some farmers lost everything and were forced to flee to Mexico and the United States.
What will it take to recover? Farmers say they need to replace what was lost—and prepare for future disasters.
Oxfam America will use a $100,000 grant to help partners repair damaged land, provide technical assistance for rehabilitation projects, repair equipment, and offset the dues some coops can't pay because of reduced profits after the hurricane.
The relief work will be coordinated through partner organizations Manos Campesinas and CRECER, which will hire appropriate staff, help farmers plant coffee saplings, make and spread organic fertilizer, build drainage barriers, treat water, and repair coffee mills.
It will mean a lot of work during the next few months. But for many small-scale coffee farmers, there's simply no alternative.
"We need to replant," said Don Juan Tacaxoy Botan, president of ANMSI coop. "We don't have any other option."
]]>Women who are beaten by a husband or partner, or are emotionally or financially dominated, are much more likely to be infected than those living in a non-violent household. Abused women have limited abilities to negotiate their sexual activity or safe sex practices, and are vulnerable to even more abuse if they are the first to learn of their infection status and have to tell their partners.
Any effort to bring down HIV infection rates also needs to reduce violence against women—and women need to take the lead in pushing governments to deal with the problem. However there is little pressure to provide better protection for women. Social norms in southern Africa (and many other parts of the world), discourage women from speaking out about such "private matters."
In southern Africa, this silence is proving deadly. "Organizations of people affected by AIDS are weak," said Mark Heywood, head of the AIDS Law Project at the University of Witwatersrand in South Africa. "Women are centrally affected, but the response is limited to services to orphans and other areas," he said.
The gender violence situation is particularly serious in South Africa, a country of 47 million people where more than 5 million are living with HIV and AIDS. A woman is raped every 26 minutes, and a woman is killed every six hours. More than three quarters of young South Africans living with HIV are females, and more than one quarter say their first sexual experience was unwanted, says a report by the Medical Research Council in South Africa.
Since the end of apartheid, some new and progressive laws have been passed to reduce violence against women, such as the 1998 Domestic Violence Act. But that law is not being enforced, and there is no strong effort to force society to address the problem and to empower women to speak out about gender violence. This would help move the problem out from the shadows of their private lives and into the public realm, where the government must acknowledge violence against women for what it is: a serious human rights issue with significant social and economic implications for fighting poverty.
As a first step in helping organize the critical mass needed to oppose gender violence in South Africa and across the region, Oxfam America is funding the Johannesburg-based People Opposed to Women's Abuse (POWA) organization's work to document all the groups providing services to abused women, as well as those engaged in advocacy and public information campaigns on women's rights.
All across South Africa, small, community-based organizations help women victims of domestic violence. They provide safe housing, counseling, legal and medical assistance, and other services. But there is no strong, political effort to deal with violence against women. Women's organizations are not linked to speak with one voice about the problems of domestic violence and push for legal reforms and changes in policies and traditions that will protect women. This means they are treating the symptoms, but not the root causes of the problem.
"We need to maintain the service delivery, but we feel we need to stop reacting and help these community-based organizations speak out as well," explained Delphine Serumaga, Director of POWA. "We need to push from underneath."
Oxfam partners in southern Africa are also participating in the global "16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence." The Center for Global Women's Leadership at Rutgers University in New Jersey is organizing the campaign, which starts on November 25th, the International Day Against Violence Against Women, and ends on December 10th, International Human Rights Day. The campaign also coincides with International AIDS Day in December 1st. This year's theme for the 16 Days campaign is "For the Health of Women, for the Health of the World." It is designed to highlight the connections between violence against women and the HIV/AIDS pandemic, as well as the unmet commitments made by governments to deal with the HIV/AIDS crisis.
South Africa: POWA is working with Amnesty International South Africa to host an international "cyber-dialogue" on the subject of trafficking of women and violence against refugee women in southern Africa. This public information campaign is building on a Listserv set up by the 16 Days campaign to promote dialogue and organizing around violence against women. POWA hopes the electronic discussion will help activists in all the Southern Africa Development Community (SADC) countries build joint efforts to combat violence against women, another goal of Oxfam America's HIV/AIDS program in the region.
Interested participants in the 16 Days of Activism Against Gender Violence cyber-dialogue in southern Africa can visit www.genderlinks.org.za
Zimbabwe: The Women's Action Group (WAG), an Oxfam America partner since 2000 and a member of a coalition promoting new domestic violence legislation in Zimbabwe, is leading a campaign to educate women about their rights and HIV/AIDS. WAG is participating in a number of events marking the 16 Days campaign around the country. First will be the national launch of the campaign by the Zimbabwe Ministry of Women's Affairs, followed by events to raise awareness of child abuse, HIV and AIDS, and domestic violence in Macheke, where there have been recent reports of abuse at a primary school. WAG will also be working with the National AIDS Council to commemorate International AIDS Day on December 1st in Chiramanzu, and will then host a series of discussions on cultural practices that increase women's vulnerability to HIV/AIDS from December 2nd through the 9th in Marondera.
]]>His words were spoken at a gathering to mark the beginning of a new collaboration to expand efforts to improve the situation of women's rights as a precondition to overcome the deadly HIV/AIDS epidemic ravaging the sub-region. Oxfam America's Southern Africa program kicked off the new program area with a convening of key organizations in the region culminating in the press event on Constitution Hill.
The HIV/AIDS crisis is the most significant obstacle to development in southern Africa. Recent studies by UNAIDS and a special task force appointed by the UN Secretary General studying women, girls, and HIV/AIDS in southern Africa show some staggering statistics: 30 percent of the world's people living with HIV/AIDS (about 11.4 million) are in nine countries that contain only two percent of the entire earth's population. Women and girls are sharing a disproportionate burden of infection and death from the insidious disease. The task force study estimates that three quarters of the young people 15 to 24 years old in Zimbabwe, South Africa, and Zambia that are currently living with HIV/AIDS are young girls and women.
These reports acknowledge one key reason women and girls are so vulnerable: their legal rights are not respected. Unequal laws on divorce and inheritance, as well as weak domestic violence legislation are leaving women vulnerable to abuse and poverty in an insecure environment. In some cases, women are considered legal minors, and are not allowed to make important decisions about their own lives, even if their husbands die.
Infected women, and those simply affected by the crisis, are missing out on employment and education opportunities as they fall ill or have to care for sick family members. Societal tolerance of sexual violence and harmful traditions frequently prevent women from controlling their sexual activity and discourage legal recourse in abuse cases.
Beyond wasting the potential of women in southern Africa, the resulting social dislocation, heavy health care and burial costs, and shortened life spans from the HIV/AIDS epidemic threaten the future for an entire generation. "We have crossed the threshold between the potential impact on women's development," said Mark Heywood, Director of the Aids Law Project of South Africa, speaking at a two-day conference sponsored by Oxfam America. "We are clearly experiencing the epidemic's impact on women's rights, which is a crucial aspect of what HIV/AIDS is doing to society."
Oxfam America has concentrated resources in the area of legal reform in Zimbabwe and Mozambique over the last eight years. Grant funds have supported research, advocacy, and popular campaigns designed to improve the legal framework to support women's rights in family laws, land ownership, domestic violence, and other key areas that directly affect women's welfare and livelihoods.
The new program area titled "HIV/AIDS Policy, Law and Women's Rights Partnership Program" builds off of the legal reform work in ways designed to help reduce the vulnerability of women to the disease, and eventually eradicate it. "Oxfam America must have a strong HIV/AIDS program in southern Africa,"" explained Regional Director Julio de Sousa. "In concentrating on these essential human rights issues, we will further women's rights and contribute to the fight against the epidemic."
Staff in Oxfam America's office in southern Africa consulted with a wide range of organizations with expertise in the areas of women's rights and the HIV/AIDS crisis. Together they developed a program that will include grants to organizations working on strengthening laws and policies designed to promote respect for women's rights, and challenging the social norms and values that condone violence against women and girls and contribute to their lower social status. Of equal importance will be looking at ways to improve the social support services essential for assisting women, including law enforcement, access to health care, and counseling.
The expanded program focus is building on fruitful collaborations with women's rights coalitions in Zimbabwe, Mozambique, and constructing similar partnerships in South Africa and Namibia.
At the press event in Johannesburg, Justice Van Westhuizen challenged Oxfam America and its partners in this new program area to think big, to even dream. "We must be able to dream—because without dreams we will not exist." As one of the framers of South Africa's constitution, considered one of the world's most progressive, he was well aware of the power of a dream, as South Africa enters its 10th year under majority rule.
Equality for women and a stronger southern African society free of HIV/AIDS is still in the future, but the ideas are coming into place to make it a reality. As South Africa has shown, a dream is just the start of big things.
]]>The new Family Law that took effect in 2005 addresses a common injustice: when a husband dies, tradition says his house and fields go to his brother or parents, which can leave his wife and children without a home or an income.
But passing a law in a distant capital won?t change traditional practices like this--Mozambique is a vast country of 19.5 million in 10 provinces, speaking six languages. Teaching all citizens about the new law, and building respect for it in places governed primarily by local cultures and traditions, is a serious challenge.
After funding a coalition of five organizations to get the law passed, Oxfam is now supporting a grassroots campaign to make the Family Law a reality. The coalition is using workshops, radio programs, and outreach to local leaders to get the message about the law out to all sectors of society. Last year their training sessions included 50 judges, 180 grassroots activists, and 45 radio journalists from every province.
Traditions don't change overnight, but the effort is making progress. As one local activist in Mukudo put it, "People now know that women have rights to their land. It is one of the ways new laws are changing the community," said Jonah Dzanza, a 26-year-old farmer.
]]>Here in central Illinois, three farmers from Surin province were face-to-face with one of the major threats behind the US-Thai Free Trade Agreement: subsidized US agribusiness.
"Fifty years ago this whole area used to be small family-operated farms, now mostly all of the land is either owned or leased to large agricultural corporations," said Thomas Spaulding, a farmer at Angelic Organic Farm, which stands as a small reminder of traditional agriculture in a sea of monocropped and chemically farmed fields.
"This is what we're afraid of happening to our farms in northeast Thailand," replied Kanya Onsri, a small-scale rice farmer from Surin province.
Phakphum Inpaen, Onsri, and Arat Saengubon exchanged hardship stories with Thomas Spaulding as part of a speaking tour of the US organized by the Educational Network for Global and Grassroots Exchange (ENGAGE), a US-based non-profit and Oxfam partner organization started by former students of a study-abroad program based in Khon Kaen.
During the three-week tour, they spoke tomore than 1,000 people about the threat the US-Thai FTA negotiations hold for Thai small-scale farmers. They told audiences that the US-Thai FTA is poised to allow unnaturally cheap products to flood Thai markets drowning out Thai production, endangering Thailand's biodiversity, and forcing Thailand to accept the importation and production of unlabeled genetically modified food products.
According to the Alternative Agriculture Network, approximately 400,000 farming families have been affected by cheap imports of corn and soybeans since Thailand joined the World Trade Organization in 1994. Thai farmers are worried that the US-Thai FTA will worsen this problem by increasing imports of US-grown corn and soybeans which can sell at artificially low prices because of the approximately $50 billion dollars the US government uses to subsidize corn and soybean production from 1995-2003.
While in Washington DC, the Thai delegation spoke with two Mexican farmers who were raising awareness about the North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), which illustrates the impact of signing a free trade agreement with the US. Pedro Jose Torres Ochoa, a Mexican corn farmer, said that since Mexico signed NAFTA in 1994 more then two million Mexican farming families have migrated from their farms as a result of artificially cheap corn imports from the US.
Inpaen, Onsri, and Saengubon also expressed Thai farmer's opposition to the intellectual property rights (IPR) package favored by the US, which allows life forms, such as plants and seeds, to be patented by multinational corporations. The IPR system favors technologically advanced countries without requiring companies to secure prior approval for experimenting on another country's biodiversity or to share benefits with the country of origin.
"This allows US companies to profit off of the rich biodiversity of Thailand," said Arat Saengubon.
Thai farmers are worried that the IPR package put forward by the US will weaken Thailand's ability to protect its most prized plant and seed varieties including Jasmine rice.
"If we lose Jasmine rice then we are losing the most important resource of the poor, we'll lose our livelihood," said Phakphum Inpaen.
The tour participants also worry about the spread of Genetically Modified Organisms (GMOs) in Thailand due to pressure from US negotiators. Thai farmers fear that the two laws currently prohibiting commercial production of GMO seeds and requiring the labeling of GMO food products in Thailand are in danger of being repealed in exchange for increased market access for Thai-produced chicken and shrimp. An increase in GMO foods, argue the farmers, will not benefit small-scale farmers, but instead will give large agribusinesses more ability to control the food chain.
During the tour, the Thai farmers met with various American groups resisting free trade agreements.
"Free trade is destroying communities in Thailand just like it is destroying communities here in Maine," said Laura Millay, Project Coordinator for Food and Medicine, a US-based workers rights organization campaigning against free trade agreements. Millay estimates that approximately 20,000 manufacturing jobs have been lost in Maine since 2000 as a result of free trade policies.
Oxfam America provided funding to ENGAGE to support the farmer's tour and their work educating Americans about the US-Thai Free Trade Agreement. The goal was to encourage a free-flowing exchange of information about shared experiences.
Throughout the six-city tour, Americans asked how they could help Thai farmers. Onsri, Inpaen, and Saengubon urged students, consumers, religious groups, non-profit organizations, and elected officials to call for a more democratic negotiation process for both Thai and US citizens. Currently free trade agreements can be ratified in Thailand by the Prime Minister without ever passing parliament.
]]>Dhara Botara, a mother of eight in the remote community of Gura in Ethiopia’s Oromiya region, used to spend more than three hours each day walking to fetch water, sometimes accompanied by some of her children. The surface water she collected was often dirty and sometimes contaminated with parasites, which sickened her children.
Today, Dhara gets clean water twice a day from a new pump located just minutes from her home. In the morning and again in the afternoon, she visits the pump to haul back one or two five-gallon water containers. The water, from an aquifer 200 feet deep, comes out pure and cool.
In addition, she and her family now have access to a private bathing shed and a concrete washstand where they can wash their clothes and dishes.
The water project is one of three developed in the past year by the Oromo Self-Reliance Association with support from Oxfam America. Oxfam’s $42,000 contribution also underwrote the cost of the wells, pumps, bathing sheds, and laundry stations in two other communities besides Gura—Qamaxo and Alanqa—some 50 miles southwest of Addis Ababa. Altogether, some 1,800 people are benefiting from the water projects, which were inaugurated recently in separate ceremonies in the three communities.
"Clean water is just part of the equation," says Abera Tola, Oxfam America's regional director for the Horn of Africa. "Women now have more time to spend with their families, children can spend more time in school—the whole community benefits from these projects."
So popular are the water projects that neighboring communities have sent delegations to local authorities asking for the installation of similar facilities for their use.
Dhara and other beneficiaries in Gura pay 1 birr (about 12 cents) a month toward the upkeep of the washstand and pump, which is surrounded by a fence and open for six hours a day. But it’s clear from the smile on her face that the change it has brought to women in the community has been priceless.
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Born and raised in Kutum, one of the last small towns on the edge of the hundreds of miles of vast desert that sweeps north toward Libya and Egypt, Mohammed Ibrahim has an almost encyclopedic knowledge of the dozens of different tribes and communities scattered across the region. Today he heads the agency's livelihoods program in northern Darfur, and visitors to Oxfam and the many international staff working on the program regularly turn to him for information on intricate local customs and history. Such local knowledge has helped shape Oxfam's work there over the past 20 years.
Oxfam has traditionally worked in partnership with rural communities throughout Darfur, building local capacity and providing technical know-how to help improve water supplies, sanitation, and agriculture in what has always been one of the poorest and most isolated parts of Sudan. When the current conflict escalated in 2003, up to two million people were uprooted from their villages and crowded into towns or settled into camps for displaced people. The emergency needs of the people of Darfur were clear and Oxfam responded by providing water and sanitation to around 400,000 displaced people.
But many hundreds of thousands more remain in their villages, often in highly volatile rural areas where various groups still vie for control. Many have seen their crops burned, their animals stolen, and their villages looted of assets like irrigation pumps, engines and cooking pots. The violence has prevented villagers from trading in local markets or from going out to harvest their fields. The traditional livelihoods with which they previously sustained themselves have been destroyed.
The local knowledge Oxfam has accumulated over the last two decades is essential in helping such communities. As Mohammed Ibrahim points out: "Oxfam has a long and successful history of working with communities in Darfur. In the current conflict, which continues to devastate the lives and livelihoods of millions of people, these villages have lost everything. Together we can help them along the path to recovery, to strengthen their food security and to rebuild their livelihoods."
Many villagers have had virtually everything they owned taken from them. So the Oxfam livelihoods team is first focusing on helping to replace what has been lost. Working initially in villages to the west of North Darfur in the areas of Kebkabiya, Saraf Omra, and Birka Seira, Oxfam is providing around 30,000 people with a wide range of goods and resources.
Grain and vegetable seeds have been distributed and villages will be carefully restocked with donkeys and other animals. Livestock are an important source of milk and meat and can also be sold to buy grain. Donkeys in particular are integral to the livelihoods of rural Darfur, being used for transport water, firewood, and other essentials.
Before the conflict, many villages had communal mills, which provided an income for the village and also reduced household expenditures, since families did not need to take grain to a private mill. Most such mills have now been destroyed, so Oxfam is working to replace them. Community health committees from each village have planned for the income obtained from these new mills to then be plowed back into rehabilitating schools and health centers that have also been destroyed in the conflict.
Mohammed Ibrahim and the rest of the team consult such community-based committees, women's groups, and other vulnerable sectors of Darfur society at every step to discuss the needs and concerns of each village. "These public forums have enabled Oxfam to tailor our projects to meet villagers' precise needs," he says. Such needs include not only food and farming but also protection and security. With the security situation in Darfur showing no sign of improving, it remains an extremely dangerous place, and communities expressed concern that being re-equipped with relatively valuable tools would only increase their vulnerability to looting and attack. So the livelihoods project is working in tandem with Oxfam's protection team to ensure that communities are not exposed to additional risk. The agency is providing only what is most urgently needed, including blankets, cooking utensils and tools such as donkey plows—relatively low-cost items that should not attract the attention of bandits.
Even the animals' gender can affect a village's security. Only female donkeys are distributed: They can haul firewood, food, and water every bit as well as males, but have significantly less market value and so are less likely to be stolen.
After restocking it is essential to ensure that the animals are kept healthy. Selected local villagers are to be trained as "paravets," assistant veterinarians who will be equipped with toolkits and drugs to ensure that animals are vaccinated against disease.
Mohammed Ibrahim and the team are also spearheading a new initiative to conduct research at key regional markets in North Darfur, mapping out the different production and food security patterns in different areas. Prices of animals, cash crops, and sorghum and millet (the staple grains of the region) are being compared, as well as prices of non-food items such as charcoal and firewood, which, in addition to their practical uses, provide a vital source of income for rural communities. The information gathered will be passed on to other NGOs working in the area to help shape other livelihood and food security programs.
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