Thursday, June 5, 2014

Like Mother, Like Daughter


When we drop all our distractions, we see that nature is the most entertaining, Manuel Antonio 2014

They say we look alike, from the neck down anyway. They say we act alike, which we certainly do in some ways. They say "Like mother, like daughter" or in our case "Moe and Smo".

I had been waiting for this moment since the second I arrived in Costa Rica. Whenever I felt lonely, homesick, fascinated and aw-struck I thought of this moment at the airport when I could wrap my arms around my mom. Five months of thoughts, experiences and emotions suddenly manifested themselves in tears. Tears of happiness, tears of emotional release, bitter-sweet tears, because I knew this moment was fleeting and that the time with her would pass by in the blink of an eye. Nonetheless, the moment of anticipation had arrived, my mom had arrived in Costa Rica.

Horseback riding down to the Rio Reventazon, Finca Monte Claro
I had been anticipating this moment for months, yet I had not anticipated what a profound impact this visit would have on my relationship with her. This was the first time I had ever spent two whole weeks with just my mom, and the first time where she was in 'my home' rather than vice versa.

What this time revealed to me was that she is a person too. I know, I know, it sounds ridiculous. Of course she is a person. I suppose what I am trying to say is that I am now seeing my parents as people, as equals. Rather than 'mom and dad' that fed me, clothed me and told me what to do.



Sometimes this realization is difficult. Growing up I saw my parents like super heros. They were always there for me, always put up a united front, always highlighted the best characteristics of themselves and others to show good examples. I didn't see my parent's stress or their strengths and weaknesses. So as I grew into a young adult and coming to terms with some of these things can be, surprising, off-putting, relieving, showing...challenging. However the flip side to this realization is beautiful. I am beginning to see what a strong, independent and sensitive woman my mother is. I am so grateful to have a woman in my life that I can share my doubts with and that I know will never judge my stupidest actions. I am so grateful to have a mother that is honest with me, that is courageous enough to show me her weaknesses, share some of her craziest memories and youthful enough to have a drink with us "Merrickville kids" on a summer Friday night. 

We had a wonderful two weeks in Turrialba and Manuel Antonio, we went to the market and bought fresh fruits and vegetables, cooked delicious food and ate until we were stuffed, went horseback riding through the mountains, spent hours watching birds, basked in the sunshine, read by the pool and savoured the sunsets.

I hope so share more memories with you soon Mom.





Saturday, May 31, 2014

Somewhere Between el Sueño y la Realidad

San Juan del Sur,  Nicaragua, May 2014

"Children see magic because they look for it." -Christopher Moore

I wouldn't say I was a dreamer when I was a child, but I certainly had dreams. I wanted to be the first woman in the NHL, I wanted to be a celebrity like Britney Spears, I wanted to have a farm with twenty horses. None of these dreams came true, but that isn't really the point is it?

I often made mental notes to myself through my observations of and interactions with adults as to how I wanted to act or ways I never wanted to be. I remember looking up at people, three-foot-Heddie with chubby cheeks and blue eyes and being annoyed that these 'grown-ups' wouldn't take me seriously. I always wanted to be seen as an equal, which is why I suppose, I always wanted to grow-up faster. I remember my father telling us countless times, "enjoy your childhood, it will be over before you know it." Back then it seemed like it would. Time seemed to pass so slowly. I remember thinking in Grade 3 that I would never graduate from Grade 8, just because childhood was all I knew and time seemed to be infinitely abundant. But of course, my father was right. Once I turned 14 it seemed like time jumped into warp-speed and the last ten years have been a flash before my eyes. 

Catching my first big fish, Dad and I, Otty Lake 1994


If I could take two lessons from my childhood they would be, live in the moment and never stop dreaming. 

One of my goals for the past 8 months has been to 'live in the moment'. Once life went into warp-speed, I dedicated the majority of my time and energy working for the future. In high school I worked to get into a good university. Once accepted to that 'good' university, I worked harder than I ever have in my life to stay competitive with my classmates, get a good GPA and plant the seeds of a successful career. Once I graduated from that 'good' university I dedicated all my time to finding a job in my field, worried that if I didn't find something almost immediately it would be too late, and the last 8 years would have been wasted. All of my actions were focused on getting to the next step, something that I think is culturally reinforced. I remember thinking so many times, "If I can just get there, then, and only then, I will be happy" and I can't tell you the number of times I have heard some version of this from my friends, family and classmates. I finally realized a few months ago that the future will always be in the future, and that if I don't start living in the moment, I will never be happy.  

Since arriving in Costa Rica, for the first time since life went into warp-speed, I haven't focused on my future at all. I am present. I cooked when I want to cook, I read because I am thirsty for knowledge, not because I have to memorize the political arguments of 50 different authors. I occasionally sleep in my hammock in the afternoons. I sit with sadness if I need to, but mostly I enjoy. I enjoy my company, I enjoy the company of others, I enjoy the birds singing and the challenges of learning a new language. 

However this "living in the moment" has created an interesting dynamic for me. I have forgotten how to dream. 

A few weeks ago I started the process of seriously looking into graduate programs. There are two that absolutely reflect what I want to study and would give me the tools and the skill set I need to have a successful career in my field. However, they are both extremely competitive, expensive and require an interdisciplinary skill set, that would require me to take courses in the sciences before applying. I felt defeated. This would be a lot of work. Maybe I could continue looking for another program...

I stopped myself in this negatively-swirling thought process a couple of days later. When did I stop dreaming? I asked myself. And since when did this outspoken young girl who never took no for an answer stop chasing what she wanted? 

I was so disappointed in myself. This was the biggest mental note, 'little' Heather had made. As a child I perceived so many adults as settling, as accepting life for what it was and not ask, demand and work for more. I understand now that it is not as simple as that, that life has circumstances that do not always allow us to live as freely as we did as children, but life's circumstances should never take away our ability to dream, and in some way, even if it is small, attempt to live those dreams. 

I decided that I would apply to both of these graduate programs. I am going to take these science courses, study my ass off for the GRE and write a fabulous application. I will do everything in my power to live this dream. Because no one ever succeeded at anything without trying.

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." -Eleanor Roosevelt

Now the challenge is to live in the moment while at the same time avidly chasing my dreams. We do not have much time in this life and as someone brilliantly once said:

"One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure it’s worth watching."

Colours of Life, Cemetery San Juan del Sur, Nicaragua, May 2014

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

A Boy and Fruit-flies

 Hotel Mariposa, Manuel Antonio

I have been mulling over in my mind how to write my next post. How do I bundle up two weeks with my mom into 500 words? How do I express every word perfectly so that you all interpret it exactly how I intended? How do I give you all the insight into my life without feeling too vulnerable? But then I stopped myself, thought about it, and I realized two things:

1. If I wait for every word to be perfect, I will never complete another blog post.
2. I shouldn't be afraid of being internet-vulnerable a) because that is kind of the point of this blog b) Heather, beyond your family and friends, not many people really care what you have to say.

Yet, here I am, struggling to find the courage to type out these words, thinking of what my parents told me when I was younger, "be careful to put anything in writing". With the lack of privacy these days I am constantly thinking of what the repercussions of my actions...or rather words...or uploads, will have not only today but for the rest of my life. Like, what if I become famous or something and they find this blog? More likely, it will just be my next employer...and the employer after that.

So after all that, I am going to continue writing my blog and explain the real reasons I have been so absent.

Fruit-flies

I have been waging a one-woman war against what seems an endless army of fruit-flies. The downfalls of fresh fruits, right? But seriously, where do these things comes from? I have tried cleaning all the dishes, sanitizing the counters, making fruit-fly traps (which are very effective), but there are always more! My god, I even found them on my toothbrush the other day. The worse part, they have allies! Ormigas (Ants in English). They have an airforce and an army! So this has been rather physically exhausting (constant cleaning), mentally challenging (how do I put literally all the food I have into my small fridge? It is like a puzzle) and psychologically traumatizing (this is disgusting and any house guests will think I am dirty).

So yes, this has been taking up quite a bit of time, but Heather, let's be honest, the fruit-flies have not been that demanding of your time.

Okay okay okay...

A Boy

Everyone said "Oh Heather you will go to Costa Rica and fall in love with a Costa Rican boy and never come back", I smiled politely and kind of giggled to myself on the inside. I was going to Costa Rica with my career in mind: learn Spanish, gain experience in the field, get out of my parent's basement.

Yet it turns out those people were right...well kind of. I found a boy...but he is not Costa Rican and I haven't abandoned all my life's ambitions to stay here forever (Dad you can breathe now).

There is definitely something to be said about those Latin boys...or at least this Latin boy. I don't know if it is his big brown eyes, the way he rolls his Rrrr's when he says my name, how he can walk through a forest and pick a handful of different fresh fruits to eat, or how passionate he is about his work, family, life...aaaaaand some other things. It is definitely a combination of all them. And not just these things...but that is all I am giving you for today. I most certainly need to write a post called "Love in Translation" because there are so pretty funny interactions (slash) misinterpretations when you don't speak the same language.

I promise to put up another post soon, I know you will all be dying to hear about how I progress with the fruit-flies.

Hibiscus, Hotel Mariposa, Manuel Antonio




Monday, April 14, 2014

3 Days. 4 Types of Forests. 1/2 The Costa Rican Country Side. 1 Awesome Experience.


We arrived to the Reserva Natural Monte Alto in Hojancha, Guanacaste, Costa Rica's wester province, at about 10pm. The parking lot was empty, there were no lights and no visible buildings. My boss, Roger, told us to get out of flashlights as he began leading us down a path into the jungle. Exhausted and just getting over the flu, I was beginning to question if coming on this four-day forest-management field trip was such a good idea. All that was going through my brain was 'bed, bed, bed, sleep, sleep, sleep, it doesn't matter where". A few hundred meters later a green building appeared that would be our lodging for the evening. It was all open, rustic in the true sense of the word. The sounds of the night insects sounded peacefully, interrupted occasionally by the terrifying howl of the Howler monkeys. Roger was giving us an introduction, and I must admit I did not hear a word. My eyes were immediately transfixed on a spider the size of a large man's hand in the room across the hall from mine. I couldn't scream, I couldn't jump around like a 5 year old child, which is usually my first instinct. No, I had to act like a dignified adult and pretend like nothing was there, kind of like how everyone else did. My friend walked by it and just casually kicked it to the side. No big deal! 


Let's just say I didn't sleep so great that night. However our 5:30am wake up call was definitely worth it. The birds sang from the treetops, the sunlight poured over the mountains and a hummingbird gracefully sucked nectar from a banana tree. 


We were guided through the 20 year old forest, that had been collectively paid for by the surrounding farmers and restored from bamboo, coffee and tree plantations into a vibrant habitat for over 40 species of birds, 70 Howler monkeys and countless butterflies, insects, snakes and I am sure many others. 

Butterfly by the river


Howler monkey enjoying the morning

Grasshopper for breakfast

We continued on to a small farm of a few hectares, where there were greenhouses filled with cilantro, lettuce, dozens of different kinds of flowers and all surrounded by orange trees. 





After a sweltering day in the heat we were rewarded with a late afternoon trip to the beach, just in time to see the sunset over the pacific ocean.


The following two days were just as informative of the first. It was an amazing experience to get deep into the woods and see some of Costa Rica's world renowned biodiversity. We drove through about half of the country, and I must tell you, it was beautiful. But nothing compares to the breathtaking mountainsides of Turrialba. It was nice to come home. 




Tuesday, April 8, 2014

Pana Puppies


This won't be a long post (although I tell myself this every time). I just wanted to update everyone on these cute little bundles of fur! 

So I went to give the puppies some food one night after work. I knew where they were, but hadn't had a chance to see them yet. Poor Pana had them in an old aqueduct pipe. Anyway so I am walking to give them food and I see people there at a distance, with a broom and a box. I got a bit closer and they began walking away and I could see puppies in their hands! I immediately began panicking. Where were they going? Were they taking Pana? Who were they? 

After a couple of Heather-acting-like-a-crazy-person phone calls and Facebook messages I was relieved to find out that a student from CATIE had taken them to her home in Turrialba, all 8 of them. 

Josique and I went to visit them on the weekend....and I don't need to tell you how cute they are...


Best buds


Panacita!


5 of the puppies already have homes waiting for them in a month, and this will be Pana's new home. 

I guess sometimes there are happy endings...


Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Pana Shock

I was prepared to be lost-in-translation, to work with limited resources, to live without the same products I have in Canada. I was even semi-prepared to accept that occasionally, a giant, horrid looking spider would cross my path (and they have). I was mentally prepared to deal with the culture shock process, which surprisingly, has yet to take me on an emotional roller coaster. Cuso warned us in our pre-departure training to "be prepared for the unexpected". Pana was my unexpected.

I noticed a dog wandering through the forest at a distance as I walked to work one day. I saw it again a couple of days later dart across my backyard. The third time I saw it, it was lying at the bus stop in front of the student residence Panamericano. It had the kindest face, cutest mix of brown and white spots and was very pregnant. It was at that moment that "it" became "her" and "her" became "Pana" and "Pana" became "our dog". My friend Victoria and I tried feeding her some rice and beans, apparently the widespread Costa Rican affection for rice and beans doesn't extend to dogs.

Over the next few days she learned that she could always find food, water and a blanket outside my door. She would be waiting, wagging her tail when I arrived home, always eager to put her paws in my lap and try to sneak a lick on my face. She stole my heart.



What I couldn't understand was how someone could abandon their pregnant dog a week before giving birth? How could humans be so cruel? So irresponsible for their actions and commitments? So inhumane? 

What shocked me even more was how desensitized everyone else was. I would tell them the story and they would look at me with a blank face and kind of shrug. This was a cultural shock I had never predicted, and I was completely unprepared. I felt angry, stressed, helpless for Pana, how could no one care? 

I only realized days later when I had calmed down and stopped taking the situation as a personal attack on my value system, that it wasn't that people didn't care, in fact people cared a lot. It was that this is an issue that is so widespread in most of Central and South America that it doesn't phase people anymore. Kind of how -15 degrees doesn't phase Canadians, but would seem utterly outrageous to anyone from here. 

Once I got passed my little bout of culture shock, I opened my eyes to realize that Pana had not only stolen my heart, but the heart of so many people at CATIE. Pana is now "Pana neustra perra"(Pana our dog), so many people offering to help in any way they can for her wellbeing. 

A week and a half ago she disappeared. She didn't come back for two days. I was worried and relieved at the same time. I knew that I couldn't take care of her puppies here, but at the same time I didn't want her to have them in the forest and not be able to come for food. But she came back. She comes back about 4-5 times a day, and she is eating so so so much! Her favourite is the hardboiled eggs, and knowing how much I hate eggs, it is a true gesture of my affection for this pup. 

Hopefully in a couple of weeks we can meet the puppies and interact with them enough to start finding them homes. 

This whole experience has given me such a strong reaction to human nature. How is it that we humans can be such compassionate, empathizing, loving beings? Yet at the same time have the capacity to be so cruel and unjust? Especially towards a dog that just wants your affection. 



Sunday, March 9, 2014

Panama City

It felt like a boa-constrictor had wrapped itself around my neck. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think. Wonderland's beauty had deceived me, the birds singing and luscious vegetation seemed like decoys for the serpents of gossip that were slowly suffocating me. I thought I was about to be its next meal, engulfed by CATIE's insatiable hunger.

CATIE is a bubble, or burbuha en espanol. As I have stated previously it is a beautiful place, it feels like a wonderland. But we all know that fairytales have their dark sides. CATIE's is that everyone knows everyone, and everyone knows everything.

Just as I felt my esophagus closing, the snake released itself. Panama.


Unfortunately...or fortunately, we have not yet been able to sort out our volunteer visas with the Costa Rican government. From what I understand, last year the whole process changed departments, and when that happened, things got complicated and lost, and no one knows, who's responsibility is what. Thus, I unfortunately have to take a four day trip out of the country everything three months.

Josique and I landed in Tocumen International Airport, Panama City on a Friday at 2pm. We had just flown in over the city, the buildings with glistening windows, towered over the shore of the Pacific Ocean.

We had arrived to tax haven of Latin America, and having essentially packed only the clothes on our backs, we were ready to indulge in some very materialistic activities....shopping, shopping, movie...and more shopping.

Now I wouldn't say that I love to shop or spend any great length of time browsing around malls. The idea of walking around for hours in flats that make your feet hurt, with florescent lighting that gives you a headache and shows all your skin imperfections is usually not my idea of a good time. However that day, Josique and I were like kids in a candy shop.

Not only for the selection of clothing stores available but for the grocery store. I think we were shrieking like 13 year old girls at a Justin Bieber concert. Dark chocolate? Pesto? Curry paste? Fresh pasta?

Sure you can find a lot in Turrialba, but there are things that I never knew I took for granted...such as Greek yogurt. I know I know, first world problems.

Anyway, I digress. I will not bore you with my various purchases and will skip right to our day(s) ( 1 1/2 days really) of sightseeing.

The Panama Canal







Josique, giant ship & I
It takes 8-10hours for one of these ships to pass through the entire Canal from the Pacific to Atlantic with each lock using 100 million litres of water. I know that I should have been overwhelmed, perhaps I just couldn't fully comprehend the historical significance or impact that this canal has on daily world trade, but I couldn't help but think "it looks like the locks in Merrickville, just bigger".  What I think was most impressive, that I never would have thought of is that the ships are raised on the Pacific side and then lowered on the Atlantic so that the point in the middle is highest (check out this link to see what I mean). Any idea why? I am ashamed I didn't think of this really, but it so that the Pacific and Atlantic oceans don't mix and there is no (or minimal) cross-contamination of species, so the water of the canal is actually all (or mostly) fresh-water.

Casco Viejo - The Old Quarter 




Approaching Casco Viejo from the boardwalk, you may as well think you are in the south of France or Italy. The boats lazily swaying in the breeze with the backdrop of colourful buildings with chipped paint and flowers. This touristy peninsula of the city is undoubtably beautiful with its colonial buildings, many of which are being restored into the cities chicest restaurants and quaintest hotels. There are Italy worthy Gelateria's and your generic markets boasting all the usual Arts & Crafts. Sounds like it could be anywhere right? It partly reminded me of Europe, partly of Montreal's old port and partly of a ghetto. What made this touristy spot so unique from any other, was that these beautifully restored buildings were like islands in a sea of abandoned, decaying, illegally inhabited ones.

Reggae vibrated the already frail foundation of this more-than-chipped-paint building. Teenage boys casually hung their arms over rotting balconies with beautiful flowers. Men with leathery hands covered in plaster worked at a slow pace in the afternoon heat to restore some of this beautiful ugliness. 

Central Square, Casco Viejo

After three full days in the extreme humidity while shopping, sightseeing and filling my stomach, I was looking forward to going back to the bubble. I was excited to hear the birds in the morning instead of traffic, feel a cool breeze rather than hot heavy air. The big city was fun, but we all know I am a small town girl at heart. 

Fisherman's Dock, Panama City



Wednesday, February 12, 2014

A Day in Wonderland




Words on paper can only say so much, pictures only show you a fragment, so this blog post will be in the form of a video. Of course it will not be the same as being here in person. You will not be able to  smell the grasses, be terrified of a spider the size of your hand on you apartment wall, feel the warm sunshine on your skin, or speak to the wonderful people I am surrounded with, but hopefully it will give you a glimpse into my life in wonderland.


I apologize in advance for my amateur video technique, but I hope you enjoy all the same!

Friday, January 31, 2014

Money Doesn't Grow on Trees, So How Can we Cultivate it in the Model Forest? Part 1.


The predominant question on the agendas of small- and medium-sized non-for-profits around the world is “where will our funding come from?” The reasons for this increased emphasis on financial sustainability are two-fold. On the one hand, the financial squeeze that has occurred as a result of the 2008 financial meltdown has left traditional donors, such as governments and bilateral organizations, with a renewed sense of frugality. On the other hand, the increasingly globalized marketplace, and the associated growth of internet-based funding, has made the competition for funding more intense. This changing funding paradigm is occurring at a time when major international corporations and newly created social enterprises are doubling their efforts on creating societal value through their operations. Corporations, in particular, have started evolving away from arguably ineffective corporate social responsibility (CSR) initiatives towards more deeply integrating themselves in the economies and societies in which they operate. Financially squeezed governments and bilateral aid organizations are cutting funding, with the expectation that corporations will step in to “fill the gap”.

While this changing landscape presents a new degree of uncertainty for non-for-profits, the one thing that is certain is that a continued reliance on traditional funding sources will put the financial stability of these organizations in question. Instead, today’s non-for-profits must diversify their funding sources to include, for example, engagement with private sector organizations, including “evil” corporations, or engagement with potential donors from around the world through internet-based sources, such as crowdfunding. The challenge for non-for-profits in implementing these new approaches is whether these organizations, which are relatively unaccustomed to rapid change, can change their long-standing operating and business models to accommodate these new market forces.


Needless to say, answering the “where will our funding come from?” question for the Reventazón Model Forest will be both motivating and challenging.

Written By: 
Matija Kamikovski
Consultant La Red Bosque Modelo Ibero-Americano, Cuso International
Management Consultant, Deloitte


For over 20 years the Model Forest concept has been highly adaptable in terms of responding to the evolving needs of local actors as political, economic and physical landscapes change. This adaptability makes me optimistic to believe that the Model Forest concept can too, adapt and thrive in this precarious funding climate. The question is how?

This simple question does not have a simple answer. However, I think the first step in funding sustainability for Reventazón Model Forest, and perhaps all Model Forests , is to critically analyze the environment in which they operate and from there begin thinking outside the box.

Thinking Outside the Box
The Model Forest concept, created in the early 1990s, was born out of crisis and conflict in Canada's forest sector. This innovative process was designed as a neutral social platform where government, private companies, Aboriginals and other social actors, could sit around the same table and talk to one another as equals. In other words, someone was thinking way outside the box. What started with 10 Model Forests in Canada has grown into a worldwide network of over 65 Model Forests on 5 continents.

Thus, evaporating funding from typical sources can be seen as an opportunity, to again, think outside the box. As Matija discusses, the funding environment is changing, that I think is common knowledge in the NGO and international development sectors. However, I think it is absolutely critical to think about what is the current structure? How does it operate? Why does it operate this way? Where is the Model Forest within that structure? and then begin to assess: What are the shortcomings of that structure? How have those shortcomings moulded the activities of the organization? 

Going beyond the academic literature, history lectures and media criticism of aid ineffectiveness, there are two Ted Talks that have really stood out and cast a different light on this topic. Both have inspired me to think outside the box and make a little bit more sense of where Reventazón and the Model Forest concept fit into this very big, complex picture of the not-for-profit and development sectors.

The first is Dan Pallotta, who argues that our approach to charities and Not-for-Profits (NFPs) is dead wrong. He contextualizes not-for-profits within our society and then compares them to private sector, revealing and challenging the 'social taboos' placed on NFPs. For example he asks why it is okay for businesses to have high overhead and not NFPs? Or why advertising to raise revenue in the private sector is percieved as advantageous, but not for NFPs? I won't go into any more details here, but essentially his point is that we, as a society need to think differently about NFPs. Without doing so, we will not be able to take a significant step forward in realizing the visions of NFPs, such as providing every human with clean drinking water, curing cancer or conserving the rainforest.

Dan Pallota's perspective presents NFPs with a unique opportunity within this uncertain funding climate. An opportunity for NFPs to liberate themselves. With university only two years behind me, working the 9-5 was quite a change from burning the midnight oil. Yet, I also felt (and still do in some ways) more constrained, there were things in the 'working world' that just didn't make sense to me. Why was there so much paperwork? Why did things have to get approved by 7 different people? Why did strategic plans and annual reports have to be so dry that they practically crumpled in your hands? Of course we need strategic plans, and some sort of approval process and all of that creates paperwork. But I can't help but wonder, do we need all of it? Perhaps NFPs can learn from the private sector in this regard. How can we streamline the organizational structures of our NFPs to minimalize the paper, creating more time for the "overhead" staff to be innovating and raising funds?

"If you prohibit failure, you kill innovation. If you kill innovation, you can't raise more revenue." -Dan Pallota

Failure. Everyone talks about "Has aid failed?" and I admit that was the extent I had thought about failure in the development context, yet David Damberger forces you to dive deeper and look at failure within NFPs. He asks what happens when an NGO admits failure? His talk brilliantly discusses the larger question of development aid through projects he worked on in India and Malawi, that ultimately, failed. The man is in tears as he admits that his project, funded through CIDA and independent donors, failed. Once again, failure, in the private sector, is normal, it is even encouraged because that is how new products, new solutions are innovated, yet in NFP sector it is kept quiet. No one wants to hear that the $200 they donated to that village in Africa didn't help them get running water, or that the $5 million CIDA project to educate children didn't have any long-term success. So essentially, we are in denial. Of course NFPs make mistakes, projects fail, but how are we supposed to make advances towards our goals if we are not allowed to try anything new? And perhaps more importantly share both the successes and failures within and amongst organizations. David's organization now publishes an annual Failure Report, as well as started a website, Admitting Failure where people can share their project failures.

This inspires me in two ways. The first is that this talk made me realize how shallow the donor-recipient relationship is. Donors, want something sexy, with pretty pictures to splash all over their website and sustainability reports. Donors want a one-night-stand, something that will give them quick tangible result. This created a lot of problems for me, because Model Forests have many non-tangible benefits. So I have been trying to figure out how to make the Model Forest sexier, maybe slim down the trees, try a different type of forest to find something tangible. But hey, maybe Model Forests aren't that sexy. They are complicated, they take trust, time and commitment to yield results, but when they do, those results are long lasting. Model Forests are the real deal, the "marriage material" if you will. Yep, I just made that analogy. A Model Forest will never be a one-night stand, sorry, we just aren't that type. So, that being said, how do we use this to our advantage in order to diversify our funding? How do we sell this to potential funders?

The second is that I think the perfect place to admit failure is in a Model Forest. It is a neutral platform where honest conversation between stakeholders is encouraged, and through that collaboration there are opportunities to innovate and try new things. Sometimes they will work, and sometimes they won't.

All this being said, I still don't know how Reventazón Model Forest will acquire and diversify its funding sources. But, I am beginning to think outside the box, and I think that is the first step to fundamentally changing the way we measure the success or failure of NGOs. My goal is that Reventazón Model Forest will jump outside the box this year.



Sunday, January 19, 2014

Beach Burpees. What's your New Year Resolution?


To ring in 2014, I decided to do 20+14 (34) Beach Burpees in Puerto Viejo Costa Rica.

Motivation #1: Start off the year with results instead of excuses.
Motivation #2: Help meet my fundraising goal of $2000 for Cuso International 


For every $1 donated to my fundraising page between now and my next beach trip (probably in a month or two) I will do a Beach Burpee! 

$1 = 1 Beach Burpee 

Want to see me do 100 in a row? 




Thursday, January 9, 2014

The Sun Sets on 2013


"What an amazing year" I thought to myself, sitting on a washed up log, enjoying my last ice cream of 2013, and watching the sun descend behind the rainforest. I reflected rather profoundly on the fleeting year over my two weeks in Puerto Viejo. Whether I was lying on the beach, lying in a hammock or biking in between, my mind was replaying the highest and lowest moments of 2013, over and over like a broken record. Usually my mind gravitates towards the future, what will be, what could be, but rarely about what was. I found it rather uncomfortable, and very bitter-sweet, as 2013 may have been the most vibrant year in my 23-year-old life. For the first time there was no plan, no obligations, no road map. A part of me felt scared, overwhelmed and anxious. But a bigger part of me felt liberated and exhilarated with an appetite for exploration.