The data have arrived!

I get the feeling that my blog is getting a bit boring this time around. Unlike my other international adventures, this one has centered mostly around bureaucracy and learning to operate in a different system. Today’s entry will be no different…sorry!!

At approximately 4:20 pm, the data were downloaded to my flash drive and put directly in my hand. I know it seems trivial, but really it’s very monumental. Nearly two full years of stalking, pleading, waiting, emailing (repeat!), and finally it’s here in my hand!! I can hardly believe it’s true. It took quite a bit of stalking yesterday as well, but one day I probably won’t even remember how awkward a presence I was in their offices.

The morning started yesterday with an early meeting at the director’s office. Essentially, we described our project to the IT people there, showed the official stamp on the agreement that we got the other day from the Minister, and he shooed us from his office to go work on it on our own. The IT people were infinitely more cooperative and open (if not eager!) with the information. The sounds of goats bleating wafted through the open window and an occasional rooster crowed. The contrast of hi-tech with low-tech in the conference room was really humbling. They have this beautiful database customized by UNICEF where all this data collects through a system linked to cell phones in the villages, but no one really analyzes it. They really aren’t to blame. The data managers are mostly people with IT backgrounds, not data analysis. They analyze most of the data in Excel pivot tables and basically report averages and percentages for the annual statistical yearbook publication. The enormous amount of data they pour over every day (maternal health is just one of many programs under their care) is overwhelming. We toured the database, for which they informed us it would be difficult to get a username and password, and they showed us all the other materials about the program (interview data, publications and briefings). It was a bit overwhelming and we had a little trouble communicating our desire to hear their needs of the information.

Another meeting started in that room, so we went next door, only to discover that the internet was crawlingand the data couldn’t be downloaded from the online database. Sigh. We stalked them there by squatting in their office as they tried to fix the problem. In the end, they told us to just come back later. I arrived by myself to stalk them for the data around 3:00. I sat in their office and occasionally asked them how it was coming—just to remind them that I was still there. Finally, my new friend handed me this flash drive with a few datasets to start with. Miracle!! Angels sang…I’m pretty sure I heard them. It could’ve been goats, but it sounded like angels to me.

My friend ran off to “fix an emergency” and as I plugged in the flash drive I realized that none of the files were reading right on my computer! I’ll save you the details, but I freaked out. Frantically emailing my advisor back in the US, I finally figured out that it was just my computer and fixed the problem. But for thirty full minutes while my friend was away (he never showed up again), I was in full panic mode. Luckily my advisor is really the best and as always came through by helping me find solutions to clean up the data, as well as manage an on-the-fly two-hour training session for ministry employees on Tuesday. I’m a little overwhelmed, but I think it will be okay.

Thinking we’d have an early night—maybe even time to work on the data—we met our shiny-suit friend for dinner. Two years of work, and he’s been instrumental on so many levels in making this whole thing happen. The dinner was meant to be a chance to talk to him about his interest in US doctoral programs, but turned into one of the most intense, life-changing moments of my academic career. I’ve heard so many tragic stories over the years while working with refugees. It’s really a journey that never seems to end. As we sat around eating Indian food (of all choices), our friend shared his life story with us. He’s had such an incredible experience, it’s hard to capture it in just one dinner sitting, but at one point we sat in silence as he sobbed for his family, and for the people of the Congo who remain there and weren’t as “lucky” as he has been. Our friend spilled my entire dissertation out onto the table in the form of his own life narrative. It was a story of persecution, flight, opportunities quashed by racism and police harassment, and finally a family divided as they sought whatever country would provide safe haven. Ultimately, many were left behind and many continue to live in refugee camps, including the one I visited two years ago. I know this is a bit heavy for my blog, but I was so inspired…by the time the dinner was finished, he’d expressed such a capacity for perseverance and dedication to make the lives of Congolese better. People carry such a weight with them—I would never have imagined that someone so “successful” carried that with him every day. Shiny-suit man never ceases to amaze me.

Me as a wet noodle. Oh, dramamine…

And so, with a new awe for our friend, we move forward and try to get access to the refugee camp. It turns out that the person my professor was scheduled to interview today in the country is actually in Kigali, so we’ve postponed our trip to the border region by one day. It turns out this is for the better, because we misjudged the process to get into the camps this time around. My professor’s running around trying to rush official paperwork through the appropriate ministry (that word makes me cringe now!) so that something that should take 3-5 days to process can be done by 5pm today. Unfortunately, I took some Dramamine this morning thinking that we’d be on the bumpy road by now, so I’m entirely out of it and living my life in a haze. She’ll have to navigate this process alone. I’m going to sit here like a “wet noodle” as she so endearingly described me. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have positive news to report on our access to the camp!!