Dear Friends and Family,
Last week, I had the opportunity to visit Alushta, on the Black Sea in Crimea, Ukraine. Officially, I was on a business trip for Counterpart to meet our partner organization and observe humanitarian aid in action. Unofficially, it was a break from the increasingly cold weather in Kiev, and of course, fun!
Meeting our partner organizations; schools, kindergardens, and social service organizations was fascinating and educational. I felt like I was looking at the face of humanitarian aid and the “digital divide.” For example, on one afternoon I walked into the children’s library in Alushta. Like all libraries in Ukraine, there are almost as many plants as books. There were no children (there was a school holiday the week I visited, which could account for their absence), and about four adults. Four computer monitors sat on two desks. The cords were nicely wrapped around the bases of the monitors and sat, unplugged. Nearby, there was a bag of cables and a scanner. I suppose the CPU towers/boxes are in a back room somewhere.
The computers arrived at the library all the way from Santa Cruz, CA, among much fanfare, a press conference, and a delegation’s visit. “Under the framework of the Alushta Santa Cruz cooperation of the Counterpart Communities program,” goes the official language.
My colleague, Misha, a Project Director for Counterpart International in Ukraine, spoke with the library staff at length about the computers. Afterwards, I got the English translation. The computers are not being used because… First of all, they are Macintosh computers. It is difficult to get software for Macs in Ukraine. Secondly, transformers are needed in order to plug the computers in to outlets in the library. Third, the library staff simply does not know how to work the computers and need a Mac specialist to orient them, another difficult quest in Ukraine.
Eventually, I hope, the computers will be put into use at the library. But the picture of the unplugged computers stays in my mind, mingling with the other sites of the visit, and representing to me the digital divide, illustrated. The digital divide is just one aspect of the complicated reality of humanitarian aid. (And it certainly does not diminish my opinion of the hard work of the dedicated volunteers in Santa Cruz… it just inspires me to want to help them understand fully the need and find adequate equipment).
Kindergartens and schools that I have seen in Ukraine consist of: a building with classrooms, chairs and desks. And that is it. Often murals or framed paintings decorate the walls. But there are no inspirational posters of cute cats dangling from tree branches; students’ art projects do not decorate the walls. Supply cabinets do not burst with paper, crayons, scissors and glue. Bookshelves filled with adventures waiting to happen do not line the walls. Class pets to not scurry in cages in the backs of classrooms. Humanitarian aid from America- books, toys, crayons- makes a big difference in the lives of the students and teachers here. They go from having nothing to having something.
Happily, water heaters have made a significant impact on kindergartens. The kitchen and janitorial staff will no longer have to heat water on the stove. Children will was their hands with warm water.
A new water heater will also have a big impact on the Territorial Center for Pensioners and Invalids. Those served by the center will be able to take a hot shower following their exercise class or therapeutic massage. In an area where the city only provides hot water once a week, a water heater is a luxury not to be taken for granted.
Overall, my trip left me supporting even more the idea behind my organization’s “Counterpart Communities” concept. The program views development as an ongoing process, not as a single act of charity. The relationship between sister cities is ongoing and multilevel, spanning across years and decades and including individuals, organizations, and governments.
And, I spent the weekend in Yalta, visiting a Peace Corps volunteer friend and seeing some sites (as well as watching cable TV in her apartment and eating salsa).
Za Miru/ To Peace,
Delilah