Sunday, March 14, 2010

Brief look at Port-au-Prince

So we were heading back today from Port-au-Prince where we had one of our country-wide meetings and the new team of expatriates could have the chance to meet each other, carry out some quick coordination, and establish a country-wide strategy. With almost all of the first phase emergency team on their way out, this would more or less be the new team for the next 6 months. It was quite the group I must say. Some coming from other ACTED countries: Afghanistan, Sudan, Myanmar, Iraq, Congo, Palestine, etc., etc. and others from other organizations, but with just the same level of qualifications. I felt quite privileged to be part of such a diverse, established, and impressive team, and to be honest...a bit out of my league. However, I take solace in the fact that I'm doing my job reasonably well given the obstacles we're facing. Also, knowing that for the time being, distribution of emergency needs is the predominant operation for the organization.

Despite all this, it was written on everyone's face: this emergency is kicking our ass. Too many consecutive nights of working til midnight are starting to wear on all of us. The hope is to be able to establish some planning, systems, etc. that can put us on the right track for the coming months and take us out of extreme emergency mode. Whether we'll get to that stage before people start burning out is a big question mark. I hope for the best, but its clear that this is not a group to take it easy when the pressure's on.

Right now the race is on to finish our emergency distributions to satisfy both donors and outstanding needs of affected populations. While a large amount of affected populations are finally starting to receive multi-faceted aid (water, sanitation, food, shelter, etc.) we are currently trying to fill in the gaps and forgotten communities which becomes more urgent by the day. Its so tough to move as fast as you'd like in this context, because you have to carry out the assessments, speak to committees, prioritize sites, wait for materials, and be sure to carry out the distribution safely and fairly. All of this takes time and people's impatience is understandable, but you feel like youre stuck in quicksand sometimes and unable to move. Anyways, its moving.

I had the chance to take a few videos on my drive back from Port-au-Prince, with the destruction of the presidential palace and Ministry of Finance topping the list for most jaw-dropping. Once you start taking picture of the devastation it quickly becomes a fruitless endeavor when every block there is a building that is even worse than the one before.

Sorry the videos aren't the best quality, but if you put it on full screen you should be able to make out the buildings better...








A bientot,

Chris

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Fumes baby

So its been a week in Leogane and things have started to move quickly. After spending the weekend getting briefed on the context, the base and my project, we began a hectic week of planning and carrying out mass food distributions.

As the Program Manager, I am responsible for a young, energetic and dynamic group of Haitians with whom we go through the process of distributing food. What would seem like a relatively straightforward exercise is rendered into a very complex operation that must be carried out with the utmost care and precision.

Food is not getting to the people as fast as we would like. The coordination capacity of the international community is lamentable at best and many NGOs are left fending for themselves and their beneficiary populations. This makes it very difficult to coordinate activities and ensure that every family is receiving some sort of aid. Both duplication of activities and a complete lack of aid are negative consequences of the coordination vacuum and happen all too often.

For that reason we try to analyze all populations systematically in order to reach those most in need first. Some of the difficulties we are facing is access to groups of people. Though there are many IDP (internally displaced persons) camps that have sprouted by communities who feel safer in open spaces, with other people, and away from their crumbling houses, many people have chosen to stay closer to their homes. These camps are far from friendly places and uproot the structure of a community, but they are also the best way to reach the largest amount of people so we are forced to use them as platforms for distribution and people are forced to move closer to the to receive aid.

Leogane is in ruins. The downtown looks like a movie set on sunny days and apocalyptic on gloomy ones. Once outside the downtown area people are still displaced, but the open spaces, farm fields, and large plots of land make it more hospitable than Port-au-Prince, but then again, that's not saying much.

The distributions so far have been up and down. All of which have been very intense given the gravity of the situation: hungry people and desperate people don't like miscalculations of food stock or late food trucks. And despite the challenges we have gotten on alright. We like to think that we are perfecting our systems and our roles, but its two steps forward, one backward here.

All in all I want to say that I am hopeful that things will improve and I am quite impressed by the energy of the Haitian people. I just hope we as the humanitarian community get our act together before the situation gets any worse than it already is.

Im tired.

Chris

Friday, February 26, 2010

premiere jour en Haiti

So after an interesting three days of travelling, layovers in both hemispheres and cancelled flights I have arrived to Port-au-Prince. My French is weak at best, but I am surviving at the moment and fairing better than I thought.

I want to keep this short because I'm kind of on the run and have a bunch of things that I need to get working on. But Ill give a bried update.

Descending into Port-au-Prince was quite emotional. It is only the third or fourth day that comercial flights have been running. You could see the masses of tent camps from the airplane and an onminous fog hung over the city...remnants from the downpour from yesterday that is a brief, though dreadful, prelude to the rains that are sure to follow in the coming weeks. It was quite a moving scene watching those family members on the plane look with so much heaviness onto their homeland. The woman next to me knew 17 people who died and the final moments in the air were understandably difficult ones.

The tarmac on the runway is covered with massive cargo planes, US military vehicles, soldiers, supplies, broken walls, buildings, etc. The 'customs' unit was equally ramshackle and looked like a refugee camp version of an airport. Understandably so.

Driving around Port-au-Prince was very eery. The white dust from the demolished cwement seems to fade into the grey sky to make you feel like you are in some kind of dream world. People walk around half with a mission at hand and half to just walk around and do something. The food being sold on the streets are scraps at best.

The collapse of buildings is something I have never witnessed before to this degree. I have vivid memories of seeing terrible structural damages after the LA earthquake when I was only seven and that was nothing compared to the situation here. For many of the houses it literally looks as if the floors are pancakes stacked on tope of eachother with rebar, iron sheets and glass protruding from everywhich angle to make it look like some sort of perverted art exhibition.

Graffiti on the walls is most telling: "starving!", "need food, water", "aidez-nous!".

I haven't had time to collect my thoughts and I doubt I will in the near future. For now, its go-time for me. Lets get to work.

I head to Leogane this afternoon. This was the epicentre of the quake and where we have some distribution sites for food, water, tarpaulins, and non-food items such as cooking materials and matresses and blankets. I will not have any network but I will try and update you as soon as I get a chance.

In solidarity,
Chris

Sunday, February 14, 2010

Au revoir, encore

12:05 Sunday, February 14, 2010 – Gulu. As I sit on my balcony slightly guarded from the piercing, sandy, dry wind swooping down from the north, I think about the journey the air has taken to get here. Possibly beginning at the arctic, just south of Tierra del Fuego, travelling up the southwestern coast of South America. From icy arctic waters to the mountainous coast of southern Chile where it makes it way up to the driest desert on earth: the Atacama. After sucking the earth dry and leaving only the heartiest of life behind, I continues into the Andes: the ancient, mysterious, majestic and unpredictable mountain world of the Southern Hemisphere. After a few weeks paralyzed at the equator, the slow march up and across the Pacific begins jetting from pristine waters to the green coast of Central America, though the Sea of Cortez and up to desert I call home. If it’s winter this same wind may be the bane of some young surfer’s session as it cuts his face with the cold salt of the Californian morning. Moving up once again through the central valley, into the violent storms of the Rockies, across the barren prairies of the Midwest, throwing a banker against a glass apartment store building in New York then over to the maddened seas of Ireland, across mainland Europe down through the Mediterranean until its final march across thousands of kilometer of Egyptian and Sudanese desert until it whistles through the grass-thatched huts of Northern Uganda and finally pounds on my windows with the violence of a lifetime of struggle and the dry, merciless dust particles of the worlds it has seen.

Whenever the time comes to leave to a certain place, I frequently find myself observing weather patterns and dreaming of the movements of the heavens that are always with us and touching us wherever we may be. I think it makes it easier to say goodbye. If I feel like we are all connected in this seemingly vast, but unified mass then I know that those who I leave will always be with me and vice versa. As earth dwellers we experience the same water, the same earth, the same rain, thunder, lightning, sun, moon, stars, clouds, fire and wind, give or take some variation of course. And as human beings we all experience the same pain, joy, love, sorrow, comfort, loneliness, confusion, hope, fear, selfishness, generosity and fascination with this strange idea of life. My exploits in this continent as well as others have forged this perception of mine.

As some of you may have already heard, I leave for Haiti in two weeks. In January I visited my organization’s headquarters in Paris to discuss my next posting. The office was mayhem. The earthquake had only hit 7 days prior. In the scramble I managed to speak to my superior concerned with new postings and after passing through names like Sudan, Yemen, etc. I stopped her and told her I wanted in. I wanted to be part of this.

There are some strange questions you ask yourself when you find yourself eager to get on the ground of a human tragedy of the scale as that which we have seen in this poor Caribbean nation. Initially you find yourself defensive over your excitement of the crisis. Then the guilt settles in and you realize that not only do human catastrophes excite you, but it becomes your livelihood, which is quite a twisted notion. I will not attempt to legitimize my ambitions. I do believe that there is something very bizarre and potentially nefarious about pursuing this type of work. I was told once by a person with substantially more experience in the field than myself that, many times, the best you can do for the people of Haiti, Sudan, Iraq, Yemen, Zimbabwe, Myanmar, Afghanistan, etc., etc. is to be a witness. Be a witness to their suffering and make it real to those back home. TV images may provide a degree of potency in certain situations, but it is exponentially less effective than hearing about pain on a human level from someone you love and trust. This will be my first promise as I set off. Though Northern Uganda has its plight and it is quite grave, I have not felt the same amount of desperation that I expect in my next mission, or possibly even in the prior one. But this time, I will try and provide updates as frequently as possible and tell you about it when I come home. You are forewarned.

As I prepare for my departure I am taking care of some final business here in Uganda and also some personal preparations for Haiti. Initially, I was intended to leave this weekend, but it got pushed back because of some internal changes. To tell you the truth, I am chomping at the bit. My project here is winding down, and this month is mostly intended to train the new Program Manager to fill my place, handover most of the projects, and write some final reports. I suppose it is nice to have some time to leave things properly and not just escape ‘like a thief in the night’, but I can’t help being eager. I ‘m on our website, BBC, MSF, reliefweb, etc. everyday trying to stay up with the crisis. Ever since I left school, I have been trying to get into emergency/disaster/humanitarian relief. This is what I have been waiting and preparing for. Though my work here in Gulu is incredibly challenging and fast moving at times, the context is rather stagnant and somewhat lacking in dynamism. In other words, I am a bit bored.

To prepare for Haiti I am cramming French like a high school senior desperate to graduate. I have a Congolese teacher who visits for two hours daily and I am feeling slightly more comfortable, but I still have a ways to go. My other preparation is much more personal. I am trying to use these few weeks to collect my thoughts and prepare myself mentally for the task at hand; daily meditation, yoga, lots of sleep, and walking around town are a few ways that I am doing this. Trying to enjoy the peace and pace of life here are others. While not necessarily lagging with work, I am trying not to kill myself, and to organize my duties so that by the last week I can spend most of my time supporting the new Program Manager. I feel that decompressing before I arrive to what is sure to be a very intense situation (both in terms of work load and environment ) is incredibly important.

So that’s about it. I guess it would make a bit more sense to write more frequently as to avoid heavy posts such as this one, but unfortunately it’s the best I can do. As the wind continues to howl and remind me of far off places and people on this Valentine’s day I will be thinking about those I love who I am not with today. Though I continue to feel you in spirit, it doesn’t make me miss you all any less. Thank you for your support. Hopefully my absence from your lives will be less prolonged once I return to the Western hemisphere. Regardless, I appreciate those of you who have continued to put in the tremendous effort it takes to keep me in your thoughts and I promise that it is very much appreciated on this end.

I wish you all the best on this strange day and I hope to see you when I am back in California in April.

In Solidarity,
Chris

Saturday, December 12, 2009

Masindi

As the year closes for the NGO world there is a chaotic push a few weeks before Christmas to get everything done for the different projects before people begin taking their holiday leave and the office life slows to a trickle. Within this time-crunched setting, our fearless leaders believed that now was a perfect week to spend away from the office to discuss the past year, strategy for the next and everything in between. As the missed calls rose into the double digits, and work was slowing by the second because of the absence of the PM (myself), I conceded defeat, sunk into my seat and began dreaming of Thailand.

I have come to believe that one of the greatest flaws of the international aid system is that of accountability. In a system where money is given as charity from the rich world, however sophisticated this charity from UN and bilateral donors may be, the accountability to those receiving assistance has always been a complicated and sometimes troublesome variable to include in strategy and planning. Since many NGOs, such as my own, work as sub-contractors to the UN and other donors, the scramble for cash and desire to appease donors puts a significant strain on the organization's mission and integration of beneficiary populations into the planning process. Even those these are the programs by which they will be directly affected. As an employee of an NGO not at a senior management level (i.e. the survival of the organization is far from my priority), I am in closer contact with the projects and the negotiation between donors, NGOs, and beneficiary communities and observe that the latter rarely are consulted to the level appropriate.

This is all too frustrating and visible at the project level because the same mistakes are made by NGOs over and over again even after recognizing our mistakes, i.e. poor mobilization, low community buy-in which threatens the sustainability of the project. NGOs are seen as a business versus a partner in development. So even when you have projects with catastrophic failures, many times the lessons learned cannot and will not be implemented in the future (i.e. consulting communities before the development of a project proposal), because the survival of the NGO is so over dependant on the donor community that it rarely has the time or desire to integrate host communities properly into the strategic planning process. Instead, it is more concerned with implementing the newest agricultural trend developed in Bengladesh (thousands of miles from Sub-saharan Africa) simply because it is sponsored by the European Commision.

This may seem rather random or even nitpicky coming from a first-world point of view, but it was a heated topic at our strategic planning meeting over this past week and one in which the divide between implementing staff and senior management was all too visible. In a business as this where many join because ofideological or even moral convictions, it is a rude awakening to realize that we still operate in a world which must cater to the powerful and the rich and if there is anything left over after these transactions, we can turn our heads towards those with no voice, the poor. It can be frustrating and demoralizing at times to realize that even the international aid system is a slave to this framework, and that real change is subject to capital authorization by this body of donors. It makes you question why aid even exists in the first place if it (in my opinion and supported by evidence from the past 50 years) fails to accomplish its most basic goal: poverty alleviation.

I guess sometimes it is better for the sake of functionality to ignore this critical flaw, pull the wool back over your eyes and get to work. But sometimes when you are forced to ask these questions whether because you are involved in a conference to examine it or you just have too much time on your hands, it can negatively impact motivation. Or maybe I just need a vacation.

After the seminar we had a day and a half to visit Murchison falls, one of the most impressive natural sites in Uganda, and go on a game drive to "promote the team within the organization". And though the idea is admittantly cheesy, it was nice to get to know people you work with outside of the office and bridge the all-too-apparent chasm between national and expatriate staff. For now I've got one week to work my tail off and attempt to position my metaphorical vessel of a project towards completion even in my absence (keep dreaming Chris). Thursday I head to Kampala for meetings with some donors and Saturday I fly out to Thailand for 2 and a half weeks of white sand, green curry, and peace.

Mmm...game











Murchison Falls...









Saturday, December 5, 2009

December in Gulu

Hey everyone,

Its been awhile since my last post and, as you can see, I've made a few changes to the blog format. Since I am in a new place, I figure that I should start a new journal, though its appearance resembles the last. Why it has taken me 4 months to get it together, I will try and get to that. But first, I feel it best to pick up where we last left off...Kampala.

After a week of wandering aimlessly through the office, reading reports and generally trying to act like I was doing something important, I was relieved to finally meet the expat team from the north. One would be my fellow PM (program manager) in Gulu and the other I was to replace in two weeks. As the second smoked his cigarette, laughed, and spoke in his thick Parisian accent about the job, the relief on his face was unmistakable. The position I applied for gave the impression that I would be supporting this, some sort of, infrastructure, road, I dunno project in Northern Uganda. What I was soon to find out was that I was to be managing two very challenging projects with equally ambitions targets, finish within the time frame and budget, and wrap up everything nice, clean and pretty before the end of the year.

After a weekend of bodas and bright lights in Kampala we were back on the road heading north. It must have been the lush countryside, warm welcome and the stark juxtaposition with South Africa which was the Novocain that prevented me from immediately realizing the task ahead. Two days in the office would change that.

Most of it was difficult to remember because I felt like that skinny Japanese guy who eats 60 hot dogs in one sitting and I may have blacked out a little. Fine, maybe I am exaggerating a bit, but the transition from grassroots, Peace Corps, take your time, let’s see what happens kind of work to this felt like it was going to take my head off. Suddenly I had hundreds of kilometers of roads to finish, schools to build, 10+ staff looking to me for answers, budget frameworks that still give me nightmares, and the underlying reality that if anything goes wrong…well, its all you baby. You upset the community and you have a legitimate security issue on your hands. You upset the donors, and that’s the organization’s relationship with that donor and probably your job also.

So after two weeks of thick French, improvised financial, logistic and program training, and frequent fainting spells, I said good bye to my predecessor and was on my own. That was the end of September. For the past 2½ months I have probably been more stressed, overwhelmed, and just mentally and physically tested than ever before, but I have also closed one of my projects, made it alive, and feel like I am finally starting to keep my afloat. An now, finally, I have enough time to through up some pictures and give all of you a more complete picture about what’s going on in my life since I’ve been so terrible lately.

Just to give a brief overview of the work we do so that I can do my part in avoiding the question, “so what are you doing in Africa again?” Here it is. I work for a 15-year-old international NGO that works in 25+ countries in a variety of contexts and fields ranging from emergency relief to conflict-affected and/or disaster victims to economic development in countries recovering from war. Here in Gulu my current project is concerned with building roads, local markets, spring protection, reforestation, cattle stalls to revive the infrastructure in places of return for IDPs (internally-displaced persons, which characterizes refugees who have not left the borders of their county of origin). After 20 years of war there is little to go back to in the village and we aim to fill gaps left by a still-recovering local government, so that displaced persons can leave overpopulated camps and return home. All construction done is labor-based (vs. machine based) in order to provide with local community members with work in areas almost completely absent of a local economy. Payment is made in vouchers which can be redeemed for seeds, livestock, hoes, boots, tarpaulins, etc. at market fairs we organize. This attempts to mitigate corruption and use of payment for anti-social activity such as alcohol consumption, while rebuilding the traditional livelihoods of livestock and agriculture. The strategy is far from perfect and despite numerous obstacles we are observing some cool outcomes.

Anyways, enough with the egocentric work talk that I myself detest hearing from others in this over-saturated NGO town. But assuming that you don’t have to put up with it everyday and come from a different perspective, I thought you may find it of interest. And I admit, as anyone who has a blog of their own should admit, its kind of inherent to toot your own horn. Yes it’s kind of pathetic, but in an environment where everyone is so used to humanitarian work and doesn’t really care, it’s nice to share.

I also assume that most are unfamiliar with the social/political/economic background of this region (forgive me if you are), and I must warn that I am far from knowledgeable on the subject, but I may be able to provide a little contextual assistance.

War has been endemic for the past 20 years in Northern Uganda until 2006/2007 when the security situation began improving and peace talks in Juba, Sudan between the parties involved were making progress. The Lord’s Resistance Army (LRA) is the follow-up to a rebellion called the “Holy Spirit Movement” initiated by the self-proclaimed prophet Alice Lakwena who, in 1986, claimed to receive messages from God and whose goal was to restore the Acholi nation (largest ethnic group in northern Uganda), overthrow the Ugandan government, and institute the ten commandments as law and a form of governance. These ends were to be achieved militarily while incorporating traditional spirituality (i.e. witchcraft and covering warriors bodies with shea oil as a shield from bullets). After she was defeated in 1997 and fled to Kenya, the movement was carried on by Joseph Kony, a name the still sends shivers down the spine of every man, woman and child.

What Northern Uganda would have looked like without Mr. Kony, only God will know, but whether you consider him possessed, a prophet, a genious, or a monster, his stamp on the region is one that will probably never disappear. As I passed by his home on the way to one of our roads it blew my mind how someone of this magnitude could come from such a modest upbringing…swimmingly, running in the bush, house under eucalyptus, a childhood similar to most village boys. However, time would tell that this man was indeed very different.

After over a decade of war, widespread human rights violations including murder, rape, mass abductions, mutilation, and sexual enslavement our man has finally moved on past the borders of the Acholi to terrorize other unsuspecting populations in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC) and the Central African Republic (CAR) bringing with him a caravan of lost sons and daughters from every village he has rolled through. Leaving the Juba treaty still without the firma of Kony, peace remains a cautious hope for those who still remember the horrors of the past.

From an outside perspective, I am blown away at the history of this place when, to the eye, one could easily take this place as a relative paradise: fertility of the soil unsurpassed by almost any place on earth, quaint villages, and beautiful, friendly, compassionate people.

The future for the North seems relatively secure from the LRA, but mischief in the South and in Sudan to the north keeps the Acholi sub-region in serious check. 2011 will be the year of reckoning with the Sudanese vote on the independence referendum. While most within the international community have their eyes to Darfur, the entire East African community knows that the future of Sudan is ever-intertwined with the future stability of the region. If war in Sudan is to resume this will mean the resumption of movements of displaced persons into Gulu, Kitgum, Pader, Amuru and other Ugandan Districts bordering Sudan, which will mean a rise in security concerns.

2011 is also a critical year within Uganda with presidential elections to be held and the big question of whether our man Yoweri Museveni will attempt to push his 25 years in office to 29. Though he has assured the populace that he does not intend to run, we would only hope to be so naïve. This past September saw the culmination of a stand-off between President Museveni and the King of the most powerful ethnic group, the Baganda, which erupted in riots and the deaths of at least 21 at the hands of the police. Some speculate that the showdown between Museveni and those who want him out of the big chair arrived a few months before schedule, since most expected events of the sort to begin mid-2010 nearing elections. Regardless, the next year-plus leading up to the elections are on a one-way course for confrontation. The only question is whether those parties involved decide to respect the sanctity of human life while hashing out their scramble for power.

In the meantime, peace seems more alive than ever in Acholiland. Walks in Gulu at 2am, motor biking in the bush, and delivering cash payments in the field were once mere ideas to be laughed at. But for now, the unknowing spectator could easily assume that peace is here to stay in the North.

So what does this all mean for me? Well, it’s pretty simple actually. If insecurity is pushing from the North (Sudan) and the South (Uganda), the burden on infrastructure in Gulu, Amuru (we have operations in these Districts), Kitgum, and Pader will be heavier than even. If refugees start coming over the border from southern Sudan resources will also probably be channeled to these specific needs, so it is vital that the roads, schools, markets and health centers we build now are of high quality and that there is enough community ownership to ensure maintenance if it is to survive without government support. This means that we have to kiss up to local politicians, influential community members, etc. to organize cleaning crews for roads, vendors for markets, and strong PTAs for schools. If the support system is not there and the stability of the region collapses once again, well, there goes all our work and European tax-payers’ money, not to mention the dramatic drop in quality of life for community members vis-à-vis health care, local economics, and education. For this reason, I find it a priority to navigate the murky waters of District politics with charm and creativity to ensure the sustainability of our projects.

For those of you who are still with me after that rant, you presence is much appreciated. I guess that I have felt like there have been a lot of gaps lately regarding my communication with you all so I see this as an opportunity to try and lay down as much as I can in one sitting so that the subsequent posts can be more in the direction of updates versus history lessons.

Regarding my pending visit home, I must apologize to you all for missing the holidays, but I feel that after this very intense year in two very intense situations I am in desperate need of some time for myself. Because of this I have decided to push my visit home until March or latest April once I renew my contract so I can have some substantial time at home to see all of you, hit the beach, and catch up on overdue rendezvous’ with Bay Cities, sushi, Snug Harbor, huevos rancheros, and everything else that makes California home. Not to mention a visit east to the citay to see how all of you ambitious cats are handling the never-ending race.

I love and miss you all. Hit me up if you feel the desire (+ 256 781 417 536) or email me and we can set a skype date (skype: Hud310). I sincerely hope that life has remained as complete for you as it has for me over the past year with all the ups, downs, sidespins and tailwhips. You are all in my thoughts and I look forward to our next meeting with the utmost enthusiasm.

Stay wild,

Chris

Friday, December 4, 2009

Fresh Pics

So I splurged on a new camera. Hope you enjoy a slice of my life out here in Gulu.



This concerns the majority of my work. Procurement, delivery, installation and construction of crossing points for roads we have built. Here a nice one that is about half-way done.


A long road we are almost finished with. We construct these roads in the hope that farmland and other important livelihoods will be more accessible in this incredibly fertile region. But since IDPs (refugees) haven't been home for over 15 years because of the war, there is little infrastructure required for the framework of a viable society.

Nobody should be even be have to go hungry in this country....dippin through sorghum fields.


One of my supervisors dropping some knowledge on community members. This is another one of our roads.


Handing over one of the schools we just finished building.


Handover.


The final school constructed under my project...community members checkin out the digs.


Gulu baby.


Afternoon in the neigborhood.


Pece represent.




As you can see, I poorly represented ACTED's football squad. Lets just say the American was relieved after a brief 5 minutes.


Construction of a swamp crossing...its muggy business out here.