the reality of development work

I just confirmed the schedule of my field visit to North Cotabato next week to assist in the conduct of an external evaluation of the project site that we are applying under the CDM. My main reasons for looking forward to this trip is to finally be able to empirically observe the area, which up to now I’ve only read in reports or vicariously experienced in discussions with our partners; another is to meet the local Manobo tribes who are implementing the project with us (and benefiting as well). It will also be my first time to set foot in the province, if not the central region of Mindanao.

And then, just on my way out to lunch, I saw the Philippine Star on top of the other stacked broadsheets today with a headline that read: “MILF attacks village in North Cotabato.” As if on automatic response, I grabbed the paper and read on to find out which town was under attack from the belligerent. Turns out, the town is Aleosan which is at the western end of the province, and opposite to where I am going. While I was temporarily—and very mildly—relieved that Aleosan was not adjacent to my destination, I knew it was still near, even if remotely proximate (about 50 kilometers away). Reading on, the casualties in Aleosan involved 10 burned houses, three wounded soldiers, and scores of people fleeing, according to the paper. The speculated cause of these renewed hostilities is the breakdown of the peace negotiations that happened recently between the government and the MILF.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been uneasy about an upcoming fieldwork—the most recent one was that trip to southern Palawan where I was paranoid about being inflicted with malaria. Other times were an “almost” encounter with the NPA, or worse the military contingent in a hotspot like in Mindoro, Samar, or Quezon. But to some of my colleagues and fellow field workers, theirs were not as fortunate as mine.

Such is the reality of development interventions in a developing country. I can only imagine how much worse it is for other countries like in Africa where a country and its people have been suffering—and literally bled dry—from civil wars, famine, or anarchy, making development programs extremely difficult to implement. But in this country, development work is adversely affected in general by patronage politics; hostilities due to opposing ideologies; an ever pervasive and prevalent dole-out mindset; or simply grinding poverty such that any chance for people to look at better options are stifled because all their efforts are put into just meeting their basic needs, and it couldn’t go further without external help. I’m led to surmise that even the small gains from past programs can be easily eroded by these.

This reality though is a challenge, depending on where one is looking at it. Development work isn’t a pretty walk through the park; it’s a struggle. It’s daunting to say the least. And if you’re not in for the long haul you might not even see the fruits of your labor or your contribution in the whole scheme of things. But it can be immensely gratifying, despite the odds, if you find fulfillment in helping communities learn to be independent or self-sufficient, or in helping them find their own path and definition to their own development; for the romantic, it can be experiencing solace or a natural high in nature’s embrace. To me, it’s a matter of my previous sentence plus knowing I was part of making things happen even if I may not see the fruits in my lifetime.

Going back to my field visit in Cotabato, I am not as panic-stricken now as I was about entering a malaria-infested area. Good thing is I’m not going alone; our local partners and fellow development colleagues will be there as well (plus the site is 2 to 3 hours away from Davao City). It may not be a major cause for alarm (hopefully), in my perspective. But I still need to be prepared, and look after my back.