Thursday, December 18, 2014

Gold mining in northern Canada

After talking much about artisanal gold mining in Senegal and historical mining in Bolivia, both of which involve mercury amalgamation in ore processing, here is some info on some of the legacies of industrial gold mining in Canada, as it happened at Giant mine.

The iconic C shaft of Giant mine.

Giant mine is an underground mine a few kilometres outside Yellowknife in the Northwest Territories. It started operations in 1949 and ended major operations in 1999. During the 50 years of operations, it produced over 7 million ounces of gold, making it one of the most productive gold mines in Canadian history. However, the large majority of the gold mineralization was refractory (i.e. hard to recover by traditional methods) as the gold was encapsulated in arsenopyrite minerals. Thence, in order to recover gold, the additional step of roasting was necessary, a process that oxidizes arsenopyrite to transform it into iron oxides, arsenic trioxide and sulphur dioxide:

2FeAsS + 5O2 = Fe2O3 + As2O3 + 2SO2

The iron oxides (maghemite and hematite) would retain the gold and be processed through cyanide leaching, but the arsenic trioxide and sulphur dioxide would escape straight out the roaster stack.

While sulphur dioxide emissions is the main industrial contributor to acid rain, the largest concern with this process would have to be the production of arsenic trioxide. It is one of the most toxic forms of arsenic, a mere few grams of which can kill a human adult at once!

Surprisingly, the creation and release of arsenic trioxide in the environment was not considered in the mine development plans. So during the first two years of operations, arsenic trioxide was let to vent out of the roaster with no recovery mechanisms, resulting in the emissions of over 7 tonnes per day of arsenic trioxide directly into the air.

Arsenic trioxide emissions from the Giant mine roaster (Wrye, 2008). tpd stands for tonnes per day.
The first collection of arsenic trioxide started in 1951, though at first did not prove very efficient. After trying a variety of technologies, it was in 1959 that arsenic trioxide recovery became effective. By the time the mine shut down in 1999, a total of 20,000 tonnes of arsenic had been emitted and spread in the local environment.

The smoke coming out of the stack is mainly arsenic trioxide dust.

These 20,000 tonnes, however, represent only about 8% of all the arsenic trioxide ever produced at Giant mine, the other 92%, or 237,000 tonnes, were captured by precipitators and were stored in select underground mine chambers.

A schematic diagram of arsenic trioxide dust management from 1951-1999.

These chambers were originally selected because they were within permafrost areas. However, five decades of mining altered the geothermal gradient and none of these chambers are now frozen, which is a real problem since arsenic trioxide is soluble in water. Therefore, without prompt action, we could see 237,000 tonnes of arsenic trioxide dissolving and dispersing in the surrounding groundwaters.



Biomats found on bulkheads of paste backfills in Giant mine. These biomats are made of arsenite oxidizing bacteria, feeding on the high concentrations of arsenic in the leaching waters.
The last company to own Giant mine went under receivership, such that the federal government is now liable for mine closure. Faced with so large environmental risks, the federal government has implemented a large and expensive remediation plan which is currently underway. This project involves installing cold pumps in order to freeze the arsenic trioxide chambers, building a new water treatment treating facility to treat contaminated surface and ground waters, covering tailings ponds, removing contaminated soils and demolishing contaminated buildings.

The first storage chamber successfully frozen.
Thus far the first of twelve underground chambers has been successfully frozen. Also, the most contaminated buildings (namely the roaster complex) have been demolished, and contaminated materials are waiting to be stored underground.

The roaster complex was bagged to avoid spreading contaminated dust during demolition .
 
Demolishing the roaster
Contaminated building materials are stored in ship containers.
Ship container are stored next to tailings ponds, waiting permanent storage in underground chambers.

The remediation plan is estimated to cost $900 Million, paid for by the Canadian tax payer. It is a complex and comprehensive plan that manages the most pressing issues, avoiding the tragic release of hundreds of thousands of tonnes of arsenic in the environment, and cleaning up a very large portion of the mine property. However, the freezing system and the planned water treatment plant will require maintenance in perpetuity, a cost and burden bequeathed to generations yet unborn.

Furthermore, no one knows how the frozen chambers will fare with an increasingly retreating permafrost and the effects of climate change being felt very seriously in these latitudes.

The remediation plan also does not include cleaning up contaminated areas beyond the mine property. The 20,000 tonnes of arsenic trioxide dust that were emitted from the roaster stack spread in the region, contaminating local soils and lakes. The extent of this regional surface contamination is still being studied.

Here is a video that further explores the topic:
http://globalnews.ca/video/1686912/full-story-contamination-nation


References:


Bissen, M., Frimmel, F. H. (2003). Arsenic—a Review. Part I: Occurenc, Toxicity, Speciation, Mobility. Acta Hydrochim. Hydrobiol., 37(1). 9-18.

Indian and Northern Affairs Canada (INAC) (2007). Giant mine remediation plan. Report of the Giant mine remediation team-Department of Indian Affairs and Northern Development as submitted to the Mackenzie Valley Land and Water Board (MVLWB).

Wrye, L. (2008) Distinguishing between natural and anthropogenic sources of arsenic in soils from the Giant Mine, Northwest Territories, and the North Brookfield Mine, Nova Scotia. M.Sc.Thesis, Queen’s University, Kingston, ON.

Sunday, September 7, 2014

Silver mining in Bolivia

After a long period of silence here are some new insights, now on the world of mining in Bolivia, and especially in Potosi.


A bit of history

The silver deposits of Cerro Rico de Potosi ("Rich Mountain of Potosi") were first discovered in 1545 and would prove to be the single greatest silver deposits ever mined, producing more than 56,000 tons of silver (and 100,000 tons of tin) for over four and a half centuries.

There are many fabulous stories about the discovery of the deposit, one of which involves the intervention of a pre-Columbian divinity guarding against any non-Spanish exploration efforts. But the truth is much more likely to be wedded to serendipity than anything else. But between 1550 and 1800, Potosi alone contributed an estimated one third of the entire world’s silver production, all of it going directly in the Spanish Crown’s budget, minted as the Peso de Ocho, or Spanish dollar. 


However, throughout the 1500s and 1600s, the Spanish Crown (notably Charles V and Felipe II) was caught up in an endless series of religious and ideological wars against as many European powers as it could find (mainly Holland, England, France, the Ottomans, Lutherans, Calvinists, Muslims, any and all non-Catholics). Wars are fought on credit, and Spain borrowed immense sums of money from banks throughout Europe. Thus, over the centuries Spain's wars (and loans) became a mechanism for the redistribution of silver throughout Europe, paying for much of the Renaissance, which was in full bloom in these days.

And Europeans had an insatiable need for exotic goods, silk ans spices among many others. Most of these goods ultimately came from China (via the age old silk road), which happily traded all it could in return for silver. Of course Spanish merchants, sailors and daredevils capitalized on this opportunity and established the first cross-Pacific trade route, trading silver from the Americas directly to China (much to the Crown's displeasure). 


In other words, the Spanish Peso de Ocho was the first truly globally traded commodity, traded on all continents for centuries. It was so ubiquitous that it established itself as the standard international currency. Up until the mid-late 1800s, the USA, Canada, Japan and most South-American countries defined the value of their currencies on the Spanish dollar. Thence, Potosi was the single largest vector behind this spectacular global financial integration. One might call this globalization 1.0, long predating current globalization.

Potosi was so profoundly important in producing the World's wealth, and maintaining an established balance of economic power that I am often tempted to compare it with a country in the likes of a Saudi Arabia, or Kuwait, today. Their  mineral extraction is so important to the world that nothing would be allowed to inhibit their continued operations.


On mining methods

The debate of Valladolid (1550-1551) having condoned forced labour in the New World, Spaniards were very effective at re-establishing the Inca mita system of taxation in kind, into a system of slavery in all but name. Thence it was Quechuan aborigines that worked inside the notoriously dangerous mines in Cerro Rico and processed the ore in the ingenios of Potosi.

While mine workers were technically free men, mitayos owed the Crown years of their lives in the form of labour. In return for their extremely hard work they would enjoy the benefits of having a saved soul (through forced Catholic conversions and education), a trinket stipend, and the satisfaction of being part of the world’s largest empire.

In effect, as with all other stories of mining in Colonial Americas, the mining of Cerro Rico de Potosi is a long, tragic tale of aboriginal peoples (namely Quechuans) being worked to death by extremely unsafe conditions for little or no benefits. 


A total lack of mine engineering efforts, pervasive metal dust in the air, reckless use of explosives, poor equipment all add up to providing extremely dangerous working conditions. Countless people have died inside the mines, trapped in shafts after a rockfall. Yet certainly more have died prematurely from the long term effect of breathing heavily laden metal and silica dust in the mine shaft air.


On ore processing
               
Immediately after the discovery of the ore deposit the Spaniards established the city of Potosi. For the first few decades native silver was being mined and smelted using the Quechan huyaras (a wind-drafted kiln). It was operated by simply lighting up a hot, wind-enhanced fire in the bottom portion of the huyaras, and placing the ore in the top part. Quickly, the native silver would just melt out and could be made smeltered in situ. 


In those days, silver accounted for an estimated 25 wt.% of veins, making direct ore smelting viable. But by 1574, as native silver deposits were exhausted, disseminated silver was mined and processed using mercury amalgamation. Thus ingenios became an institution for the next three and a half centuries. 

Ingenios processed ore in ways very similar to the way artisanal gold miners work today, as discussed in previous posts, except on a more industrial scale. They required mechanical energy to power their stamp mills and crush the ore. Therefore the Spaniards built dozens of dams high up in the mountains above Potosi to capture and store water. They also dug a long river bed to channel the water from these dams into an artificial river running through town. Thence all ingenios and their water wheels were built along this river. 

A painting of Potosi from the 1700s

Highlighted are the dams and the ingenios along the river

But more than water, ingenios needed mercury. Large quantities of it. Mercury was essential in separating out the silver from the gangue (mine waste). Unsurprisingly, the ingenio workers, those who were the most exposed to mercury in their labour, were always aboriginal peoples.

After being crushed, the ore was sifted, then mixed with mercury, water and various chemical blends as catalysts in a large stone tub (cajón), and then spread out on a large patio. To promote efficient mixing and silver amalgamation, plant workers would march systematically along the patio and through the sludge, barefooted and often up to their knees or thighs, mixing the slurry with a shovel. This is the process during which mill workers would be exposed to direct skin contact with elemental mercury (Hg0).

Afterwards, the slurry would be brought to sluice boxes (lavadores) along the river to separate the sediments from silver-mercury amalgam. Though much of the amalgam would be recovered, invariably large amounts of mercury would mix with the sediments as small droplets and get washed away in the river as part of mine waste product. Mercury contained in these sediments would typically turn into methylmercury (MeHg) and accumulate in the food chain lower down the river basin (down hundreds of kilometers). 

An ingenio in the foreground with Cerro Rico in the background

The mercury recovered in the lavadores was then loaded into large cloth cylinders where it was compressed and repeatedly swatted with paddles in an effort to recapture any unbound mercury. The enriched amalgam product would contain one third silver and two thirds mercury, and would be brought into a ceramic mold (piña) and heated up for hours until the mercury volatilized and left behind a shiny sponge made up of about 70 wt.% silver. This process was by far the most important and direct pathway of exposure to elemental mercury the populations of Potosi were subjected to. Mercury vapour would escape in the atmosphere through the porous ceramic retorts and drift throughout the community for all to breathe. Meanwhile, the remaining silver sponge would later be smelted into ingots at high temperatures to eliminate any remaining impurities and to ease transport and accounting to the metropolis.

As soon as mercury amalgamation was adopted Potosi became the single largest consumer of mercury in the world, burning through an average of 130 metric tons per year, adding up to the release of over 39,000 tons of mercury in the environment throughout three centuries. Furthermore, to properly account for all mercury pollution from Potosi, one needs to consider its corollary: Huancavelica, a cinnabar mine in Peru which was effectively Potosi’s sole source of mercury and an equally dizzying source of pollution, without which virtually no silver could have been extracted from Cerro Rico. 


On Mercury pollution

Mercury is the most powerful neurotoxin in the world, and thus always raise particular concerns when humans are exposed. The physical symptoms mercury poisoning include tremors, pallidity, kidney failure, gingivitis, anemia, difficulty speaking, and loss of muscular control. Such symptoms are often in concert with neuropsychological effects such as personality changes, irascibility, impatience, hypercriticism, hallucinations, excessive shyness or suicidal tendency, shyness, depression, anxiety, loss of memory, obsessive–compulsive disorders, problems concentrating and impaired decision making.

For Potosi residents, the predominant form of mercury exposure came from breathing pervasive elemental mercury vapour in the air, coming from the burning of amalgam. Recent studies have modeled what mercury vapour concentrations might have been like throughout the city during the ingenios centuries.

Estimated long term ambient air mercury concentrations for Potosí and comparison with USEPA Reference Concentration (RfC of 0.3 µg/m³). Assuming a 20ft. stack height, stable air conditions. Mercury mass emissions based on historical records of mercury imports into Potosi during this year. Location of soil sample sites A B and C are transects of modern mercury soil measurements (Hagan et al., 2011).

Because ingenios were all water-powered, the ingenios were established along the ribera de los ingenios canal, and thus all the mercury emission sources were laid out in this axial geographical pattern.

The results show that even in the low production years, atmospheric mercury concentrations were virtually always above chronic exposure levels, across the entire city. Mercury concentrations were several orders of magnitude above chronic levels within 100m of the canal, approaching permanently acute levels. Given these values, it seems most likely that the mercury vapour concentrations inside the burning chambers of the ingenios must have been well above the acute exposure range, on a continuous level. Ingenio workers (always aborigines) were exposed to such concentrations on a daily basis.

Studied also looked into the mercury concentrations in modern Potosi soils, showing a very clear correlation between modeled atmospheric levels and deposition patterns. They also compared these modern soil values to those of historical cinnabar mine tailings (from elsewhere in the world), showing that the soils closest to the river have mercury concentrations that rival those of mercury mine wastes.

Comparison between measured soil mercury concentrations in present-day Potosí and historical air concentrations of mercury estimated by modeling emissions from mills located along the river. The A-B-C transects locations are shown on the previous figure (Hagan et al., 2011).
Mercury contents in soils of Potosi, compared to some of the  world's most contaminated mine wastes (Almaden mine), also compared to background values (Hagan et al., 2011).

The dangerously high levels of mercury in Potosi soils is today the most important environmental legacy left by 350 years of ingenios' mercury amalgamationIt would take only but a slight disturbance in local soils (a guaranteed event for any type of construction work) to bring back toxic levels of mercury in the atmosphere. Airborne dust is sure to be enriched in mercury, that in a city known for its strong winds and arid climate.


Ruins of an ingenio in the outskirts of Potosi. The entire area around these ruins is being developed to residential areas, despite soils having very high mercury concentrations.

So many mitayos died on the job that to escape forced enrollment, countless communities deserted their villages and took refuge in very remote areas of the Andes. Those mitayos that did survive service were crippled by debilitating life-long mercury exposure symptoms. One needs to imagine how entire communities populated by people with pronounced psycho-pathological impairments such as hallucinations, excessive shyness or suicidal tendency, obsessive-compulsive disorder, etc., to understand how the social fabric of communities would have been severely eroded away over generations of colonialism.


Potosi today

Potosi's world strategic importance lasted until about 1850 when silver production started to decline significantly, and mercury amalgamation came to an end. Nevertheless, Cerro Rico is still being mined today, producing mostly tin but also small amounts of silver and zinc.

Mine workers are no longer mitayos. They work for pay and are organized in cooperatives. This is a very clear improvement upon colonial-era working conditions. Nevertheless, work in the mines still remains extremely dangerous. Many miners still die inside the mines every year from rock failure. In fact, Cerro Rico has been so hollowed out from 500 years of ceaseless mining that the mountain is starting to collapse in on itself. The oxidized cap can barely be mined anymore from a series of very recent collapses that caused a large sinkhole at the summit.

A sinkhole at the summit of Cerro Rico

Beyond rock failure, the shafts have never had any kind of ventilation. The air is often rich in metal and silica-laden dust. This inevitably causes very grave respiratory problems such as silicosis. Miners typically start working in the mines at about 15 years of age, and quit around 25-30. They seldom live to see their 50th birthday. 



Mine workers inside Cerro Rico 

Here is a very good video on modern working conditions in Cerro Rico:

While mining work in Potosi does not involve mercury anymore, there is still an overwhelming legacy of mercury pollution. The entire city of Potosi is built on soils that has mercury contamination levels comparable to those found in unremediated mercury mine tailings elsewhere in the world. It would take only but a slight disturbance in local soils (a guaranteed event for any type of construction work) to bring back toxic levels of mercury in the atmosphere. Airborne dust is sure to be enriched in mercury, that in a city known for its strong winds and arid climate. As a corollary to Potosi and a living example of the nature and level of the risk still existent today, many adobe houses in Huancavelica are built from local contaminated soils, such that people’s very habitations are still emitting mercury-laden dust, still putting the community at risk to this day

Potosi reminds us that the benefits of empire seldom serve those who carry their costs. It also shows us that the pernicious heritage of empire far outlives its very existence, and will still be carried by generations yet unborn.


References

Hagan, N., Robins, N.A., Hsu-Kim, H., Halabi, S., Morris, M., Woodall, G., Zhang, T., Bacon, A., Richter , D. and Vandenberg, J. (2011) 'Estimating historical atmospheric mercury concentrations from silver mining and their legacies in present-day surface soil in Potosí, Bolivia', Atmospheric Environment, vol. 45, p. 7619e7626.
Higueras, P., Llanos, W., Garcia, M.E., Millan, R. and Serrano, C. (2012) 'Mercury vapor emissions from the Ingenios in Potosí (Bolivia)', Journal of Geochemical Exploration, vol. 116, pp. 1-7.
Robins, N.A. (2011) Mercury, Mining, and Empire: the Human and Ecological cost of Colonial Silver Mining in the Andes, Boomington, IN: Indiana University Press.
Robins, N.A., Hagan, N., Halabi, S., Hsu-Kim, H., Espinoza Gonzales, R.D., Morris, M., Woodall, G., Richter, D., Heine, P., Zhang, T., Bacon, A. and Vandenberg, J. (2012) 'Estimations of historical atmospheric mercury concentrations from mercury refining and present-day soil concentrations of total mercury in Huancavelica, Peru', Science of the Total Environment, vol. 426, pp. 146-154.


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

A summary

Hi all,

Announcements

I compiled a quick resume of some of my first 6 months in Senegal, which is usually the time with the steepest learning curve.
Some of the themes I have already discussed earlier, but I hope this narrative will prove both informative about West African realities, and can shed some light on the 1st hand experience of life in rural Senegal.
I don't know what it's worth but here it is. This is Martin's take on the Peace Corps in Senegal.

Also, I'll be talking a lot more about mercury, arsenic, mining and pollution later on since this topic is what I'm dedicating my Master's degree on.


Narrative

Success consists of going from failure to failure without loss of enthusiasm.

--Winston Churchill

As a first impression, Senegal does not have much to boast for. Stepping out of the airplane in Dakar, one will smell the pungent stench of diesel exhaust, see and inevitably step, stumble on the ubiquitous debris on the ground: loose cobble, broken asphalt, gravel, sand, dust, dirt, soot, grime, slime, mire, muck and gunk that constitute the décor of this modern, rapidly growing city of the third world. As for what the chemical make of this superlative anointment may be, no one knows, nor does anybody really want to know; but the input material tends to be easily recognizable as plastic bags, plastic water bottles, plastic wrappers, paper wrappers, newspapers, diapers, tin cans, banana peels, mango peels and anything else one might expect to see in a tropical garbage bin. Now all this gets flattened, cut and chewed up by city traffic so that it’s just ripe for when the rains come and the sewage system (or lack thereof) overflows and floods entire neighbourhoods with black water, and binds the whole in a matrix of biohazard. Meet cholera, dysentery and typhoid.

As a second impression, Senegal has even less to offer. Walking through town one will be completely overwhelmed with aggressive (Wolof) taxi drivers calling you “mon ami,” grabbing on to your hand and/or luggage without your consent and demanding exorbitant fares. The cars will inevitably be a failing 30 year old French Peugeot beyond hope of repair, or rather, beyond hope of anybody caring to try and repair them. Then there is always the spectacularly disordered and frightful traffic that has become proverbial of third world cities. But what is really unique to Senegal are the swarms of kids coming around you at every intersections, holding on to an empty red tomato paste tin can, or an empty plastic yellow margarine bowl. These are talibe, students of a koranic school, performing their daily obligation of begging for food, money and sugar to give back to their marabout (teacher). Meet childhood slavery.
For parents, the daara (koranic school system) is a free alternative to the governmental French school system, the latter though technically free, still infers a cost through textbooks and modest entry fees. Therefore poor, or conservative, parents will send their kids to a marabout; and in return kids owe absolute obedience to him. This means that they don’t go back home to see their parents, ever. They sleep, eat, live in ruined compounds too abhorrent even for stray dogs. They’ll spend one half of the day reciting surats (koranic verses) and various ancestral magic spells in a language they don’t understand, nor ever learn. The other half they spend drifting around town, singing prayers and begging for some food to survive, and money to avoid a severe thrashing by the marabout.
One such daara burned down one night in the outskirts of Dakar while I was a volunteer. The marabout had locked the doors of the compound from the outside, as is customary. A dozen kids died, others severely burnt. The event was thought as no more than an unfortunate accident.
This koranic school system is ubiquitous in Senegal. It is considered perfectly acceptable. Parents send their kids all the way from far Guinea to powerful marabouts and famous daaras, with the idea that religious education is a good thing. What is there to say to a society that commends such a system of abuse? This reality is one of the main reasons I hold such evermore disagreeable feelings towards Senegal. There is a level of woe that has no justification, and a level of complacency that cannot be excused. I would see kids as young as 5 years old wearing nothing but torn rags, shoeless, filthy as can be, often hurt, always malnourished, begging for a few handfuls of rice for survival. These are daily sights in urban Senegal, part of the routine, just like traffic, or the prayer calls of minarets. If I have ever seen wretchedness, I have seen it in the empty stare of a wandering talibe, reciting koranic verses, hoping they will feed him.



*


My first order of business after all the ceremonial welcomes in village was setting up a tree nursery. We had been taught how to build a school vegetable garden and were expected to work on such a project. The ubiquitous presence of roaming animals in Senegal, especially goats, makes any gardening effort hopeless without a fence. However, fences are very hard to come by in rural Senegal. The best long term option is certainly to plant a live fence, made of thick thorny species, forming a living wall around a protected area. So I went along, planting dozens of thorny bushes in a tree nursery. I then transplanted them in the village elementary school perimeter at the start of rainy season. But it turns out, small trees are quite tasty to goats, and in order to start a live fence one first needs to protect the saplings for the first 2 or 3 years—hence one first needs a fence. Ironic, isn’t it? In the end I set up a makeshift woodstick fence that helped somewhat in protecting all the trees I’d out-planted. So everything was put in place for when school was to start again (after the rains, in the Fall) we could have some gardening lessons. Then came September and the teachers weren’t back from their holidays yet (teachers invariably are not originally from the village they work in). Nor did they show up in October, November, or December. It turned out the teachers weren’t being paid nationwide, so they all went on strike. But because teachers went on strike the education ministry withheld salaries even more. Here was irony again. This entire situation was new to me, though I was told it happened cyclically. Therefore, school that year only started in mid-January. Schedules were rushed and few students or teachers had the time or desire to do much gardening. So much for that project that year! Here was my first lesson in the effects of severe corruption.

One small work project I got involved with was helping out with two summer camps. This had me going to various villages of Pulaar-land to help teach math, French, lead challenge courses and teach teenagers such life skills as how to use a condom. This was really cool as it involved kids from really poor and remote regions, for whom this was the single greatest experience of their lives, so they were extremely enthusiastic about everything. In a general sense, I have found Senegalese kids to be some of the most fun there is to be had in that country. All this also involved reuniting with other PCVs from all over that I would seldom get to see otherwise. I remember these events as the time during which I enjoyed Senegal—and myself—the most. The only downside for me was that I had conjunctivitis for a few weeks, which is a thoroughly annoying virus to catch. Thankfully this was to be one of only three I would ever catch in Senegal. I was lucky.

The major project I had started on was pump repair trainings. The main issue for Kondokhou villagers was the difficulty of access to drinking water. The only viable water sources were two hand pumps a kilometre outside the village. They were overstressed in their use and when they broke down, no one knew how to repair them, save for a government team in the regional capital who extorted outrageous fees, crippling for a village. I realized that the pumps were of very simple design, meant to be easily fixed with simple tools. So I found documents on how to repair these pumps, taught myself, went to Dakar—700km away—to buy the tools (there’s no proper hardware store anywhere else in the country!), formed a village repair team and taught them how to fix the pumps. It worked well, that is until the pump repair team started asking for money for spare parts and modest salary. Usually, emergency pump repair money was taken out of the Sodefitex account (a village bank account created from the fair trade label on local cotton production—essentially a tax on village cotton farmers). Cotton farmers however refused to have to bear alone the cost of a universal necessity. So we tried to levy money from compound to compound, based on a per-person quota. The answer we often had was “I don’t have the money right now, come back tomorrow.” This, mind you, is viable excuse in most of West Africa, where common peace and harmony may not be broken over money matters. We thought of asking for small coins for every person taking water per day, but there is a very serious lack of small change in Senegal, and coins are always hard to come by, making small transactions very difficult. That and such a system would require someone sitting at the pumps all day, doing that job. No one was willing to assume such a chore. A subscription system would similarly involve an employee, with some accounting skills that too few have in village (most never get passed grade 5 education). On top of all that, there were big trust issues as precedents of village account money disappearing existed, and any one taking on such a job risked being accused of misappropriation. We were in a bind indeed!
What such a situation breeds can be best exemplified when a government program came to drill a new borehole in the village 4 months into my service, and built a brand new expensive hand pump. Great news! The two other pumps had a constant 20 to 30 minute wait lineup, so this would greatly relieve the situation. However the village chief decided that the new pump was to stay locked until the village had solved the pump repair money situation. By the time I left village, two years later, the brand new pump was still locked! It had been used once for two weeks, then locked up again. Here was my first lesson in the effects of severe societal dysfunctionality.

Another smaller project was thrust upon me early on in my service. Villagers approached me a few weeks after arriving in village hoping I might be able to solve the latest village drama. World Vision had recently arrived asking for the community contribution for the health hut they had just built in the village. Of course, the village health account was completely empty. Everybody openly suspected the village health worker to have stolen the money. So they asked me, the toubab (white person), see if I couldn’t “find” money that would cover their needs. I did my investigation, came to realize there hasn’t been money in that account for at least 5 years. There there was no paper trail (again, the health relay has 5th grade education and never learned bookkeeping) and no one even remembered the last time there ever was money in the box at all! Mind you, no one ever thought it anything much out of the common way, and no inquiry was ever proposed until World Vision came asking for their due, when everybody’s backs were against the wall. We held a big village meeting. I told everybody that while I couldn’t make accusations, it was obvious the system currently in place was broken. They agreed to form a committee with a supervisor who would oversee everything, leave a paper trail and report to the village chief on the money status. The system was fairly functional—and most importantly profitable by the time I left village. I was eventually entrusted with the village contribution to World Vision (then again, they couldn’t trust anybody with money within the village), and I bought drugs and supplies for the hut. However, the rooftop of the health hut fell apart during the rainy season (there are always high winds associated with rainstorms)—coincidently, the peak of malaria season, rendering the hut unusable when most needed. The Catholic Relief Services had promised they would fix it but we never saw that happen. Here was my first experience with severe incompetence.

These stories point to some of the major themes that permeate a Senegalese reality that tourists won’t see. First you have systemic societal dysfunction, and a level of complacency about it that is crippling. The system is broken and no one thinks of doing anything about it. A lot of that has to do with the lack of basic education, even literacy, of locals, explaining the lack of efforts such as simple bookkeeping. Second is the cultural approach with money matters which breeds distrust, and discourages common accounts. People are poor, money is money, and accounts (i.e. cash hidden in a sock, under the bed) get mixed depending on daily needs and never get refilled. A lack of understanding of entity ownership and binding obligations explain that corrupt actions are seldom thought of as such and are always excused. Third there are the obvious problems of remoteness and poverty. Stuff is expensive, it’s far and there’s no real way to access it. Roads are terrible, transportation is god awful and people can’t really pay for it all anyways, making it very hard if not impossible for a person to invest in a farm, a house or a business. Lastly is the persistent failure of government infrastructure and aid organizations to provide services appropriate to needs. Systemic corruption mixed with various levels of incompetence goes a long way in explaining this fact. All of this adds up to creating a very real sense of lethargy about anything development-related. Sooner or later a Peace Corps Volunteer realizes that despite one’s best efforts, mediocrity and disappointment is the very best one might hope for. The worst, of course, being a project’s utter failure, and aggravating the local feeling of dependence on foreign aid.


By the sixth month of my service I had lived enough to understand these realities and what they would entail for the rest of my life in Senegal. With such a learned perspective, prospects started to feel remarkably bleak. I had already started and implemented interesting projects. I had done all I could to set them up in a sustainable manner, that they could last past my service. Yet, as soon as I disengaged and let the villagers use their new learned tools for themselves, dysfunctionality still prevailed. And to my dismay, it was never the “hard,” technical skills that let down, but village politics and money matters. I learned to make peace with that by reminding myself that a Senegalese problem will always have a Senegalese solution. 


Such a conclusion may sound bleak indeed. The simple truth is that it's a tough world out there. But more than diseases, dysfunction, and all the pains that come with living in West Africa, the real challenge of this all is in learning how to make peace with these hard facts. Yet, therein lies the redeeming value of the experience. To learn how to create for oneself a measure of fulfillment and happiness in such a difficult environment is to learn to deal with any and all things that are thrown at you, no matter what, and to squeeze all the worth out of it. I believe that such a lesson is perhaps one of the most valuable and meaningful the Peace Corps can offer their volunteers, and returned volunteers.


Tuesday, August 6, 2013

RPCV

Hi all,

So I'm really back, working in the Rockies for the summer. I wasn't sure what to do with this blog but I figure I might talk about a few things relating to West Africa, development and all. Turns out after living in a remote African village for two years there are certain things one does not forget. So I've given it a new look and hope this will still prove interesting, especially since it seems my involvements with Africa and mining are not quite over. More on that later.


On international aid and its state of affairs

Here is a link to an excellent article on an excellent website:
http://www.irinnews.org/report/98528/analysis-mali-s-aid-problem

It highlights much of the reality of aid work in West Africa. It talks about Mali but I recognize an awful lot of this in Senegal.

I would have liked to talk about this sooner but the subject is way, way, way complicated and one wonders where to even start. Without getting into details, aid work at best serves like a hydration IV to a sick person. It helps keep peoples from being too miserable but in no way contributes to the self-sustaining improvement of the society as a whole.
We build schools, dig wells, give medicine and give rice in droughts. All of this helps prevent malaria deaths, water-borne illnesses and famines. It does nothing to help in the economic development of a country. So the real question is: what do we really want to achieve with aid work? If we simply want to avoid another 1998 Sudan famine, then we're doing ok. If we want to raise entire countries out of poverty, we are failing miserably.

This begets the question: how does a poor country become rich? That is a question to which no one know the answer. But from my experience here are four points which can go a very long ways:

  • Improve education

UNICEF has built every single school in the area in which I lived. They even installed solar panels with lights in some. That's great but useless when the schoolteachers are constantly on strike because their paychecks don't come through and when the system teaches students to regurgitate stuff in French they don't understand, write or read.
Critical and creative thinking are concepts that do not exist in rural Senegal, which is in large part responsible for the fact that people are unable to help themselves, even for efforts that are entirely within their means and reach. This leads to the perception that only outside help can improve their lot and exacerbates the all too pervasive dependency on foreign aid.
Quality education, emphasizing critical thinking and problem solving skills will absolutely help people maximize their resources from the bottom-up, at the grassroots, local level.
  • Decrease corruption
An ambitious goal. If such a feat were easy there wouldn't be corruption. How does one change a mindset? Especially when the culture condones corruption, wasteful and inefficient use of resources. There is no easy solution but I cannot help at think that, again, improved education can go a long ways. A large part of the problem in West Africa is that the very concept of the modern state as a public entity hardly exists.
The idea of an impersonal State that controls public goods and services in a transparent way under a written rule of law is hardly compatible with the ancestral traditions of the land. An authority figure, or anybody of relevant means, is expected to uphold a certain standing and decorum that lead to some of the abject stereotypical disparity of wealth Africa is infamous for. This authority is also expected to redistribute this wealth in his close social, religious and familial circles, maintaining political relationships more reminiscent of the Godfather movies than tat of a modern State. In other words, public resources are perceived as personal property by the authority figure, and thus dispensed.
In the absence of an effective court system that can enforce a code of law (which is--on paper--surprisingly modern in Senegal), impunity remains the only rule.
  • Level economic plane
For all the internal problems of Senegal, the people are part of a game that they play at a disadvantage. Despite globalization's premise, the world is not flat.
The country's biggest know how and production is agriculture, and this is an area in which your average farmer cannot compete on the international markets. This for one reason: subsidies. All first world countries provide massive subsidies to their farmers, which lowers the price of developed, mechanized farm products far below anything a Senegalese farmer can possibly compete with. Therefore the chances of developing any viable income (cash crop) for farmers is extremely low.
A wonderful example of the twisted state of international farming affairs is very well illustrated in this npr podcast:
  • Develop business, not aid
Again, current aid work is little more than an IV given to a sick society, a band-aid patch. Not the solution. If we want Senegal to become rich, promote its sustainable economic growth, not its dependence on handouts.


References

These points are the most striking inadequacies. They barely even begin to cover the subject. On the topic I highly recommend these resources:

Poor Economics: A Radical Rethinking of the Way to Fight Global Poverty. by A. V. Banerjee & E. Duflo. Public Affairs, 2011.
A remarkably accurate and highly readable book about the economic dynamics of poor people around the world, and how aid fits into it.

The White Man's Burden: Why the West's Efforts to Aid the Rest Have Done So Much Ill and So Little Good. by W. Easterly. Penguin, 2006.
A critical view and analysis of aid work on a more macro scale.

The Aid Trap: Hard Truths About Ending Poverty. by R.G. Hubbard & W. Duggan. Columbia Business School, 2009.
An alternative model to development.

Corruption and Development Aid: Confronting the Challenges. by G. Cremer. Lynne Rienner Publishers Inc., 2008.
Redefines corruption and its existence in aid.

Lastly, please do listen to Planet Money, an excellent npr podcast, covering countless aspects of the economy and development.
Subscribe to it on iTunes.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

There and Back Again

Hi all,

I know it's been forever since my last blog post. I've been up to lots.



  • I've completed my women gardening wire fence project

It's traditionally the women's role to take care of duties regarding vegetable gardening. Now the main problem regarding that is that women are already really busy taking care of children, cooking and all the house duties. Add to that the fact that they need to rebuild woodstick fences every year to protect their produce (roaming animals are a huge problem and stick fences don't survive a rainy season), and that needs to be in a place close to a water point; which happens to be at the pump, a kilometre outside the village.

So the women are busy at home, they need to walk a ways out and rebuild a fence every year. All in all, this leaves them very little time or energy to bother with the gardening.
So after long deliberations with the women groups, village authorities and Dakar officials, we were able to put together about 2.5 million FCFA, or roughly USD5,000. 15% came as community contribution, another 15% came from Mamadou Samoura, an elder who grew up in Kondokhou but did good at school and now lives very well in Dakar. The remaining 70% came from a food security grant from USAID.





With some villagers we set up the fence. So now the women have two large wire fences that allows them to focus on gardening, growing and providing vegetables to their family.



  • Completed a women's leadership training
Corollary to the wire fence there was a 2-day women's leadership training done in my village. Adji Thiaw, from Peace Corps led it, covering aspects of women's health, infant nutrition, women groups work and potential development, maximizing assets potential and groups organization. It was a big success as virtually all women in the village asked to attend, though there was only room for 35 (women traditionally are seldom put forward and empowered like that).


  • Travelled around the country during my last weeks
The clock was ticking in my service and I felt that I needed to see more of this country, since I'd only really seen Dakar and Kedougou.

I went to the Sine Saloum in Toubacouta, visiting the mangroves. This is really a beautiful and worthwhile place to visit.





I then went to Saint-Louis (du Senegal) for a talibe soccer tournament organized by the Peace Corps. That's a yearly event creared 2 years ago by the legendary Richard Ross to promote a better understanding of the plight of Talibes in Senegal. The soccer tournament brings attention from national media and the American embassy, making it a repeated success. Along with a tournament, Peace Corps Volunteers organize educational workshops teaching Talibes basic French, nutrition, etc.

For those of you who don't know who Talibes are, they are children of poor families who'se parents gave them away to a Daara, a religious school. They essentially find themselves orphaned in a community of 30 to 100 other such kids between the ages of 4 to 14. They learn to recite Koran verses they don't understand and are forced to beg for their food. Depending on the marabout (religious teacher), they might have to bring back a certain amount of money too, under threat of being beaten. They live in conditions that are extremely precarious that would be unacceptable even for a stray animal.




If you would like to learn more about Talibes and our events and work, here are some links:
http://dakar.usembassy.gov/taliberte.html
http://www.irinnews.org/Report/76080/SENEGAL-Why-the-talibe-problem-won-t-go-away
http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/05/world/africa/fire-in-senegal-kills-child-beggars-trapped-in-house.html?_r=0

I did benefit from this event as a break from the relentless heat of inland Senegal. I went and visited la Langue de Barbarie, a natural park on a sand spit with tons of migratory bids. However, the sand spit was cut off the mainland by a 15m dredge some 5 years ago to supposedly control the floodings in Saint-Louis. Because of that, sea currents are entering the lagoon and are completely eroding away the once spit-turned-shrinking-island. They predict this phenomenal bird habitat will have completely disappeared in the next 10 years!



I also went to Kolda for Saint Patrick's day party. I don't have any pictures of that.


  • Continued the mercury project
We went on with our mercury program, finishing all the trainings and completing the second survey. Here is a link to a video made about our work:

The project still needs to go through 2 more surveys. But following phase is already being planned out and it's really satisfying that such a project is continuing past my time.


  • Left Senegal
The time had come. We had a goodbye party for our stage, I did all my paperwork in Dakar (which really feels like the Amazing Race some times). Now I'm back in France with friends and family, drinking wine and sailing as I can. It's gray and cold and raining a lot but it's France. Life isn't too hard here.






Thursday, January 24, 2013

Cabo Verde

Hi all,

Just got back from an unforgettable sailing trip to Cabo Verde. We left on the 30th of December, so we spent New Year's at sea. There's far too many stories to relate to in this blog so i'll keep it brief and let the images speak for themselves.

















The only thing i can say is that Cabo is a true paradise. Every island has its own unique character and is thoroughly unforgettable. i sure hope to go back one day.