South Sudan - Grace Poni, a 42 year-old mother of 10, no longer has to shell out precious cash to transport her agricultural products to town. These days, she and a number of women’s groups can bring and sell their goods directly in a newly constructed covered market right in their hometown in Nyai-Wudabi, Morobo County in Central Equatoria State.

Sudan Recovery Fund-South Sudan (SRF-SS), through its Small Grants Mechanism, provided funds to national non-government and community-based organizations to improve livelihoods and generate income among vulnerable groups. The Fund, supported by the United Kingdom and the Government of the Netherlands, aims to bridge the gap between recovery and development in South Sudan.

In Nyai-Wudabi, the covered market has been strategically built along the main road. This cuts the costs of transporting vegetables from the farm to the main market by over US$150 per trip. It also saves market sellers up to three hours of travel time and reduces loss of perishable goods. Moreover, having a central trading area within the village allows concessionaires to sell at higher prices than they would in the main market, located 35 km away in Yei, where supply is higher and prices are lower.

Completed in December 2010, the covered market can accommodate as many as 25 sellers on a first come-first served basis. Market days are usually held every Thursday and Friday. Women’s groups sell vegetables and fruits to an average of about 100 buyers a day.  Concessionaires pay local authorities a minimal market access fee upfront for a space in the covered market. This set-up has generated greater income for women like Grace, with savings earned from transportation and post-harvest losses. “I used to earn about US$15 per month from selling vegetables,” she shares. “Now, I bring home US$3-4 per day,” she reveals.

The project was implemented by the national NGO Sudan Peace and Education Development Programme  (SPEDP) – one of almost 70 organizations across South Sudan who have received funding from  SRF-SS. SPEDP also conducted agricultural livelihoods training, such as vegetable farming, and formed women’s farming groups in Morobo and other counties in Central Equatoria State. Assorted vegetable seeds, fruit seedlings and agricultural tools and equipment were provided to communities as well, to increase their agricultural productivity and household income levels. A similar market shade has been built nearby through the same scheme.

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Sudan Recovery Fund-South Sudan (SRF-SS), established in May 2008, aims to facilitate the transition from humanitarian to recovery assistance in South Sudan. With a total committed amount of US$ 111.8 million from the United Kingdom and the Netherlands, SRF focuses on projects that demonstrate peace dividends, encourage participation and empowerment of communities affected by conflict and poverty, and address stabilization in areas affected by insecurity. SRF also contributes to strengthening the capacities of state institutions, in particular through its stabilization programmes at the state level.

Source:  Multi-Donor Trust Fund Gateway

To learn more please visit the new UN South Sudan website: http://southsudan.one.un.org/index.html

At the airport, armed men in military regalia stand by. The place is reminiscent of the recent referendum where South Sudan voted for secession from the North. Posters are everywhere: “The Symbol of Justice: Separation.”

Welcome to the youngest, 193^rd country in the world.

At the airport, it’s a mad scramble to get your travel permit stamped and open your luggage for inspection. Having landed on Sudanese soil for the first time, it is a huge relief to see my driver holding up my name and the UN logo on the side of the van.

On the way to the hotel, I notice that most vehicles are 4×4 trucks marked with familiar insignia of aid organizations. In fact, many of the passengers on the same flight were aid workers.

Our rooms at the Beijing Juba Hotel look like container vans from the exterior but they’re clean, have running water, and are equipped with the all-important mosquito net. Internet is available at the restaurant and is good for two days. One US dollar is equivalent to 3 Sudanese pounds. One pot of rice (which serves two) is 5 Sp, roughly the  price of a kilo and a half of rice in the Philippines.

Remember … a layer of dust protects the wood beneath it.

A house   becomes a home when you can write ‘I love you’ on the furniture.
I used to spend at least 8 hours every weekend making sure things were just perfect – ‘in case someone came over’. Finally I realized one day that no-one came over; they were all out living life and having fun!

Now, when people visit, I don’t have to explain the ‘condition’ of my home. They are more interested in hearing about the things I’ve been doing while I was away living life and having fun.
If you haven’t figured this out yet, please heed this advice.
Life is short. Enjoy it!

Dust if you must…
but wouldn’t it be better to paint a picture or write a letter, bake cookies or a cake and lick the spoon or plant a  seed,  ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there’s not much time…
with wine to drink, rivers to swim and mountains to climb, music to hear and books to read, friends to  cherish and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world’s out there with the sun in your eyes, the wind in your hair, a flutter of snow, a shower of rain. This day will not come around, again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,  old age will come and it’s not kind
And when you go – and go you must – you, yourself will make more dust.

Share this with all the wonderful women in your life.

It’s not what you gather,  but what you scatter that tells what  kind of life you have lived.

And so you master the art of haggling for a cheap autorickshaw ride. Every single day. You get to practice zen aboard a madly driven matatu on your way to work in the slums. You learn to budget your finances (read: allowance)  like you’ve never done before, so much so  that butter and fabric softener become luxuries (because you opted to save your precious Shillings for a weekend night out). You get accustomed to doing desk work under the sun during winter because the office has no heater. Or suddenly you find the utmost value of a single glass of water stored in a clay jar that your colleague saved just for you – on a hot, sticky, 48 degree Celsius summer. Or you learn to let your hair down because you hear the happy cackles, giggles and banters of your young and vibrant colleagues while they shoot a documentary about what they’ve learned about shooting a documentary – while you stress yourself out with how the organization you work at can function under a very tight budget. There’s just a more fun way of working.

And then you learn so much more that there is a world outside of yours where people happily survive with meager resources (you don’t really need another fancy pot, do you?). Or that you take away more life lessons than what you share of your knowledge and skills to people who lack them. Or you see a bigger picture that there is so much work to do for communities to progress – and that you want to be part of that change.

Or you can just sit comfortably where you are right now and ogle at what a great job George Clooney is doing in Sudan.

Go to VSO Philippines or VSO International.

"True religion is caring for the widowed and the orphaned." At an orphanage in Nairobi, Kenya.

So enough of the squabbling on who gets the coveted 8th Wonder of the World status. Apparently, it’s a lot more tangible (at least for some of us) than we hoped for.

PARIS—At a press conference Tuesday, the World Heritage Committee officially recognized the Gap Between Rich and Poor as the “Eighth Wonder of the World,” describing the global wealth divide as the “most colossal and enduring of mankind’s creations.

“Of all the epic structures the human race has devised, none is more staggering or imposing than the Gap Between Rich and Poor,” committee chairman Henri Jean-Baptiste said. “It is a tremendous, millennia-old expanse that fills us with both wonder and humility.”

“And thanks to careful maintenance through the ages, this massive relic survives intact, instilling in each new generation a sense of awe,” Jean- Baptiste added.”  More…

if you have articles, news pieces, critiques, and editorials that focus on poverty alleviation, democracy and governance, rights, health, and other Millennium Development Goals, join the Media Reporting in Development group of the Communication Initiative. deadline is 9th july. more details here.

Yesterday, I ran and ran and ran until my heart could no longer keep up with my jelly legs. Or at least  because I had to get back to the office at 1pm. Photo op of the whole communications team — must not be missed.

I did all the rounds of the equipment, paying close attention to the gym instructor’s  — well, instructions– lest I slip off into a daydream and be eaten alive by exercise machines. It felt great to have stretched and huffed and puffed and pulled and crunched. I was so light on my feet the rest of the day.

Of course it was a different story altogether when I woke up this morning. And don’t even try to make me laugh. I think my rectus abdominis have atrophied.

And now I must get back to work. Writer’s block is such a terrible thing.

Oxfam GB, an international non-profit organization providing relief to emergencies all over the world (to those in the relief and development fields, Oxfam is actually a brand) came to town and set up its emergency response to victims of last year’s typhoon Ketsana (Ondoy) in the Philippines. Badly hit were parts of my hometown in Laguna.

This is where I’m volunteering now while buying time till I get a full-time job. My job as a casual staff at Oxfam is mainly program support – anywhere from admin support to coordinating with health workers on the field. My job does not put me in close coordination with locals nor daily exposure to their plights. It is not in my jurisdiction to count how many toilets had been constructed, how many bath soaps were distributed, or how many buckets have gone missing. Today, I was tasked to compile written feedback from beneficiaries of Oxfam’s support and this is where I felt the harsh reality that thousands of people still live in after a tragedy.

Sheryl Lapino*, like many of her townsfolk in Barangay Tadlac, Los Banos, wrote letters of thanks to our team at Oxfam Laguna and appealed for further financial support. Many of them had lost their homes and livelihood, have lived or are still living in evacuation centers, and are now doing odd jobs. These hand-written letters put a face to every individual who has had to endure losses as basic as a roof over their heads. Some of them are senior citizens, some are single mothers, some are ill or have disabilities, all hopeful for whatever help they can get. Their letters were written in the local language which made it even more personal, with names and occasionally contact numbers. And these are people who CAN write, what of those who cannot? Their plights are real. Their needs tangible. Multiply these to the hundreds and thousands and you’d be a fool not to think that there is still so much work to do, not discounting the selfless efforts from various groups and individuals who went the extra mile during the initial onslaught of the typhoon.

And this was a calamity that struck months ago. The rubbles in Haiti had just begun clearing away. Then the world has to contend with earthquakes in Taiwan, Chile and more recently, in Turkey. There is still so much work to be done, so many traumas to heal, so many people to comfort. I’m staying tuned in.

*Name changed to protect the identity of the person.

Posts from this blog are those of the author’s and does not necessarily represent Oxfam GB’s position.

Photo EJ Azucena

Twenty or so years later, this sleepy, little town finally wakes up and gets a social life. Alcohol finds its way around the once forbidden 1 km campus perimeter. Caffeine and fancy flip-flops are sold side by side in a café. Ronald McDonald and Col. Sanders occupy prime business spots. Polyethylene is banned. This is Los Banos today.

Los Banos (bathrooms in Spanish), named as such for its multiple natural hot springs at the foot of Mt. Makiling, is my dear old home town. Born and bred here, I find it such a delight that the small stretch of shops and restaurants that is Grove is now all grown up and ready to party. Barely 500 m outside of the university campus, Grove and its environs are now all lit up till midnight (or way past). During my time at the university, stores would be closed by sundown and bedtime follows suit. These days, students and residents alike enjoy a good dose of night life.

First off: coffee shops. Eureka. People who know how pathetic my tolerance for alcohol is would know that even with a handful of bars around campus, coffee shops are my refuge. I never hold a table from other customers and I can drink my choice of elixir as much as my nerves can possibly take. I don’t have to shout over loud music just to have a conversation that everyone pretends to understand. And best of all, coffee shops will never be coffee shops without that convenient invention that has kept us connected to the rest of the world and has twisted our vocabulary so much so that ‘spam’ is no longer canned meat and that Apple is no longer a fruit. It’s the all-important free wi-fi. I am HAPPY.

Restaurants and food stalls are everywhere. Anywhere from Jamaican patties, to shawarma wraps, to Japanese food, Vietnamese, Thai, grilled chicken, dimsum, cakes, crepes and pastry, cheap student meals, fast food, and good old street food. Sometimes, I don’t even have to cook at home. There’s plenty to select from and they’re getting competitive quality-wise. And since this is a pretty rural town catering mostly to university students, food is still cheap. Pure joy for the yet to be fully employed with not much dough (read: me).

Not to miss of course is the fresh milk produced daily at the Dairy Training and Research Institute (DTRI) at the Institute of Animal Husbandry. DTRI milk is part of my growing up food along with Jerico’s pan de sal (bread freshly baked every afternoon) so it’s a delight that these two institutions are still around churning my childhood chows.

Since I got back, I find that I heavily gravitate towards creature comforts that I had been deprived of while living as a volunteer overseas. My favorite place these days is, wait for it – the wet market. I get plenty of fresh fish, seafood, vegetables and fruits from a wider selection than what I could get from Nairobi. The other week, I had my watch battery replaced and had some trousers hemmed, all in one stop at the other end of the market. And they do good work for such a small price. Life in the province can be so gratifying sometimes.

And since Los Banos is seated at the foot of the mountain, my daily commute is a refreshing ride aboard a pedicab (a bicycle with a side car) so it’s pollution-free, noise-free and stress-free.

The provincial lass is back in The Zone.

(At least for now)…