Aid work has profound impact
by Elda Ward
When my husband Bob and I decided to throw caution to the wind to pursue our lifelong dream of working with CUSO, we knew we were taking a major career risk. I was 50 years old, in a senior government job I loved, doing work I believed in. It was with some trepidation that I decided to put my government career on hold to move to the Republic of Vanuatu in the South Pacific.
However, I felt strongly about CUSO’s social justice work, the philosophy of respect, equality, sharing and learning about new cultures and peoples. CUSO partners with organizations throughout the world and recruits Canadian professionals for two-year volunteer placements with these partners.
By 2001, I had spent ten years heading up the Yukon Government’s Women’s Directorate. Our mandate was to integrate women’s concerns and priorities into government program development and legislation. We encouraged government departments and non-government organizations to work collaboratively on women’s issues in the community. I have always believed the work of women’s organizations across Canada, both within government and in grassroots feminist organizations, is making a positive contribution, not only to women’s lives, but also to society as a whole.
I hoped my placement with the Vanuatu National Council of Women (VNCW), a non-governmental women’s organization, would have value and that my experience of women’s equality issues would prove to be useful. I had no idea I would personally gain so much, nor had I any idea that what I had to offer would be so genuinely appreciated by the Melanesian women with whom I worked.
Port Vila, the capital city of Vanuatu, is the jewel of the Pacific. The town of approximately 36,000 people curls around a horseshoe-shaped harbour, and its narrow, winding streets climb through lush tropical forest, offering breath-taking views of the harbour and azure sea through ever-present hibiscus, poinsettia and bougainvillea hedges. From the first day we arrived in Port Vila, we realized ours would not be a ‘hardship’ placement. I felt as though I was suddenly living in technicolour.
We found the Melanesian people hospitable and welcoming. They are very attractive, dark-skinned people with muscular bodies. Even the tiny babies have biceps. Within the population there are striking contrasts between employed and unemployed ni-Vanuatu (Melanesian people born in Vanuatu) and between the expatriates who have made their homes in Vanuatu. As volunteers, Bob and I lived in a clean, modest, cement apartment complex, surrounded by tropical gardens, while directly across the road from us was a squatters’ settlement of ni-Vanuatu living in corrugated tin shacks, who had left their island villages to work in Port Vila, but had not yet found employment.
I began my placement at the VNCW expecting to serve as a liaison and to encourage collaboration between three women’s organizations that exist in Port Vila. But two early experiences changed my mind about the contribution I could make.
When I first arrived, I was fortunate to meet and work closely with the ‘amazing’ Grace Molissa, a founder of the women’s movement in Vanuatu and chair of the VNCW. She gave me great insights into the situation of women in Vanuatu before her death in December 2001. My second opportunity for illumination was a trip to Noumea, New Caledonia, to attend a Triennial Pacific Women’s Conference with the young chief executive officer of VNCW I was mentoring at the time and the director of the Vanuatu Government Women’s Affairs. I listened first-hand to Melanesian and Polynesian women from 22 South Pacific countries elaborate their vision of ‘advancing women’s status’. They wanted women to have opportunities, but at the same pace as their children, the men in their lives, their communities and their society. They eloquently expressed the importance of their traditional, religious and cultural roots, and their belief in a communal approach to equality.
As a Western feminist with differing views, I decided to put my own ideologies on the back burner and look for other ways to contribute. It was a useful realization to come to so early in my placement and I was determined to ‘do no harm’.
Instead of sharing my knowledge of gender issues, I focused on other transferable skills. From my years in government, I understood systems and processes and the importance of planning. I’d worked with many diverse stakeholders with competing interests and issues and that taught me the value of consultation, of listening, and of respecting different views and perspectives. Working in the political arena reporting to the Minister Responsible for the Women’s Directorate had given me ample opportunity to address thorny political and ethical issues. Many of the skills, management tools and techniques I’d taken for granted were the ones the Melanesian women sought as they struggled to deal with management and governance issues that were hampering the growth of their organization.
Much to my surprise and sometimes, chagrin, they assumed I was an ‘expert’ at everything and I often had to remind them that they knew far better than I what might work in the situations they faced.
By the end of my two-year assignment in 2003, despite its chronic lack of core funding, VNCW had a functioning constitution in both English and Bislama; a three-year action plan; a staff manual; an interested membership (close to 100 women attended the annual general meeting each year); an active and committed governing board comprised of women from the provinces; funding for a conference centre made of traditional materials and a small resource centre; a small, but dedicated staff of three, including a skilled finance officer, and an enthusiastic chief executive officer.
It had sufficient reserve funds in the bank, several income-generating projects and committed donor funding to keep it going over the short term. However, there was still a need for continued longer-term funding, business expertise and strengthening of the Provincial Councils of Women.
I was pleased when CUSO agreed to sponsor another two-year placement at VNCW and to support two other placements working with women on outlying islands. The strong partnerships between Melanesian and Canadian women in Vanuatu were significant contributors to strengthening women’s organizations throughout the country.
Returning to Canada, we made the decision to relocate to Southern Canada to be closer to our two grown children. We began a process of ‘reinventing ourselves’ to gain meaningful employment. After four months of submitting resumes, I was recruited as Senior Manager, Program Support, for the Alberta Justice Maintenance Enforcement Program (MEP) in Edmonton and was pleased to resume a government career in the area of social justice.
I firmly believe I returned from my experience in Vanuatu wiser and much better equipped to serve in the public domain. I am more aware of how privileged I am to have a government job and I view my position as a ‘public trust’. The first-hand knowledge I gained of non-governmental organizations gives me a better understanding of the struggles they face and an increased respect for their capabilities to provide community services.
I had always appreciated women’s abilities, but working with Melanesian women underscored society’s advantage when women’s contributions and resources are fully realized. My South Pacific placement also gave me new insight into multiculturalism – very helpful to me in my job at MEP where our 200 employees and 100,000 clients represent most of the cultures of the world. I feel I have a broader and richer realization of the need for people to advance at their own pace and with their own beliefs intact. And, I came back feeling both proud and humbled by the tremendous generosity of spirit of my Melanesian colleagues.
Working closely with people who are impoverished, by our standards, and yet who affect positive change through their determination and spirit of communal generosity has had a profound impact. The Melanesian people do not see themselves as living in poverty. As subsistent farmers, their small gardens are their wealth. They generally have food on the table, a shelter overhead, albeit humble, and a warm, although unpredictable climate. But, most of all, they have faith and believe in helping each other. They are their own social safety net.
I have always been a strong believer in the value of teamwork and a supportive, collective, collaborative approach, but my experience in the Republic of Vanuatu has made me recognize, with even more clarity, the truth of Margaret Mead’s comment: “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”
CUSO recruits regularly for international volunteer opportunities. To view the postings and complete placement descriptions, please visit www.cuso.org/overseas.
