The Skill of Execution

The Skill of Execution

June 2^nd, 2019

Growing up I played select baseball for the Bellevue Club and had this baseball coach, Jordan. He had this thing about the phrase “Get it Done”. Don’t ever say “Get er Done” or else you’ll find yourself running. One does not “Get er Done”; one “Gets it Done”. Simple. Done and dusted. And our team had a short list of simple rules:

      

      1)      Polish your cleats before games

      2)      Dress your pants according to how the starting pitcher is wearing his pants  

      3)      If your hair shows out of your cap you will be benched until you get a haircut. Caps are always to be worn forward

      4)      Get it done

Funny how the first three are about respect, unity, and cleanliness. And then we get to it: Get it done. Execution. Now Jordan is an incredible athlete and has a deep understanding of the minute details of baseball. However, coaching baseball to him was simply a medium. We had our short list of team rules. And he had a short list of priorities for us:

       1)      God and family

       2)      School

       3)      Baseball

Looking back I can fully appreciate the simplicity of his lessons. And I’ve learned an incredible amount of lessons since playing baseball for him – heck I’ve learned about international shipping routes, equipment procurement across borders, the trade-offs of applying chemicals to prevent disease versus treat disease (vegetable farming), and even two new languages! However the simple lesson of “getting it done” is one of the most important lessons I have learned so far.

Execution, getting things done, is truly a skill. Maybe even an art form. It requires a high degree of emotional intelligence (EQ) and smarts (IQ), both of which can be trained and improved upon. It requires an ability to create habits and a thirst for learning. Time and time again I’ve heard people label themselves as procrastinators. I’ve procrastinated for sure! Procrastination and time management are two elements constantly acting as road-blocks to getting the job done. However, procrastination has nothing to do with motivation or desire or how bad you want it.

Procrastination more often is a result of subpar emotional regulation. You know that flow state? The one where time doesn’t exist? Or that mental state where you just feel productive? Where you’re just knocking out one task after the next? Well sure, but we also know that binge state where you don’t want to do anything. Or that overwhelmed state where there’s so much to get done so you end up getting nothing done. Or the cluttered feeling encouraging you to just stop and do your work another time.

So ya, time management, motivation, intelligence, desire to learn, emotional quip, and creating habits are all building blocks to something much larger and much harder to develop and train: the skill of execution. Task completion. Commitment. Power of your words. In the past couple years, I have become to depend on executers more and more and more. Those type of peoples who say something and then get it done. No (or few) ands, ifs, ors, buts. Just getting the job done. You ask them to do something and you don’t need to worry about following up, sending a reminder, or nagging. They say they’ll do it and they get it done.

I’m reflecting more on NGOs and start-ups. In the past couple years, I’ve heard fantastic ideas that have a strong business case. I’ve seen a few workout and many die out. Overall, the biggest difference has nothing to do with how good the idea is. Don’t get me wrong, having a good idea is important. Even more important is the ability to execute and get the job done. If tasks are executed well and in a timely manner, then eventually the team will be executing a decent idea (the bad ideas will be tested and dropped). A team able to execute will be successful. You can have the most fantastic idea, maybe an idea worth a billion bucks. But without a team able to execute, your idea will stay just that: an idea.

I have so many people to thank; people who have helped me begin to realize an idea and a vision. It’s what gets me up when it’s too cold outside and too early. It’s what allows me to continue to work until the job is done; long after I’m already exhausted. Specifically, I am incredibly grateful to the Dichone family, my family (parents & sibs), my Nana, Richard and Caroline, my church organization back home (susan, skip, and many others), Ms. Tidyman (a mentor from my scouting days), and many others. I could and probably should write a blog at some point just taking the time to thank the people who have helped me get to where I am; and those who are helping me get to where I’m going.

I’ll be posting another blog shortly and as a brief update, Niri Nkhayi has been awarded a grant through Sodexo’s female empowerment and End World Hunger program! Next week we’ll be discussing contracts and figures as I’ll need to raise some monies to leverage against their investment.

Thank you for taking the time to listen and read my post!

With all of my hear,

Daniel  

Mozambique gets hit hard - Cyclone Idai

March 24^th, 2019

Richard’s brother-in-law was leaving Beira the day Cyclone made landfall. He had gone there to prepare his son’s warehouse for the incoming storm. As he was leaving the city, the rains started. The rains continued and the winds picked-up. His vehicle was almost thrown off the road at a point due to the rains and river banks breaking. He made the decision to pull-over on a hillside. It was early evening and he witnessed over a thousand bodies floating down the river. He slept in his vehicle with other stranded people because the road ahead was flooded like a river. The following day he walked 25km with thousands of people also trying to return to their homes in Chimoio. On the side of the road, he witnessed over 200 bodies that had been washed up.  Eventually, he was able to catch a ride to Chimoio where he lives.

From what I’ve heard, I would guess thousands have died. It’s a living nightmare. On March 15^th, Cyclone Idai made landfall near Beira, Mozambique. For 4 entire days Idai continued pressing inland striking Malawi and Zimbabwe and finally dissipated on March 21^st. Winds peaked at 120 miles per hour.

The most recent press release I’ve read claims 446 have died in Mozambique and 259 in Zimbabwe. Other reports claim that 90% of all infrastructure in Beira has been destroyed. I believe the death toll to be completely under-reported and I’ll explain why.

First of all, Beira is a city with an approximate population of 533,000 as of the census in 2017. It is a coastal city with a large port and took the brunt of Idai. Zimbabwe lay approximately 175 miles further in-land from the city of Beira. The main district in Zimbabwe affected is Chimanimani with an approximate population of 6,815. So, 446 / 533,000 (0.08%) die where the Cyclone first struck land and had winds of 120 mph and was at its strongest. The Cyclone travels 175 miles, decreases in strength, and then kills 259 / 6,815 (3.8%).

Furthermore, I am comparing one city (Beira) to an entire region (Chimanimani). How is it that a Cyclone travels 175 miles and kills nearly 50 times as many people in an entire region as it is weakening when compared to a city?

If we assume one-tenth of what Rich’s brother-in-law reports is accurate then in a 1-day period he saw at least several hundred dead bodies in one location. There are many many more rivers in the region. With 90% of Beira’s infrastructure gone, even more people must have died in the city as buildings collapsed.

If we assume the city of Beira experienced the same percentage loss as the entire region of Chimanimani, 3.8% * 533,000 = 20,254. Beira is still flooded. Power is not restored because the substation for the city is still under water. Clean water is gone. Disease is only just now beginning to set in. With so much standing water, mosquitoes will breed and malaria will spread. Without hospitals (remember, they’ve been destroyed), thousands more will die from malaria. Next will be starvation. Corn harvests were just about to start. But for the region of central Mozambique, they are all gone. All crops. The majority of Mozambicans are subsistence farmers. That means they live off of what they grow. A flood destroying their crops results in severe starvation and death of family members.

Beira was a large port city responsible for supply-chain for the provinces of Manica, Tete, and Zambezia as well as for the countries of Malawi and Zimbabwe. I’ve heard reports of fuel shortages in Tete. All imports and exports in those provinces and countries will be negatively affected. That will further slow business and force gas prices in those regions to rise. When gas goes up, the price of transport goes up, and then the price of food goes up. In a region were starvation is already imminent…

Like I said, it is a living nightmare and I honestly believe the worst is yet to come. My heart sunk when we spoke with Rich’s brother-in-law. We are all shaken and distraught. One of our workers has family in Beira and has yet to hear any news from them. We are all being faced with the realities of death and devastation and it is just the beginning.

Right now, we’re contacting aid agencies that are and will be working in the affected region. We have 4-ton and 8-ton trucks. We are making plans to put together monthly deliveries of vegetables and other supplies to send to the affected region. We could use support. We have irrigation lines, a solar pump, a farm in operation, and work with dozens of smallholder vegetable farmers in our region. We need to buy more seeds, inputs, and cover gas to make deliveries to the affected region. I’ll be linking a GoFundMe if you can help support us financially. In the GoFundMe there is a breakdown of what your money will help deliver to the affected region and peoples. Any amount you can help will be appreciated.

https://www.gofundme.com/mozambique-cyclone-idai-food

With all of my heart,

Daniel

P.S. Update as of March 29th: some reports claim the death toll to be about one-thousand. I still believe that number to be under-reported.

Scared to Death

March 4, 2019

Scared to Death

The following occurred on December 26^th, 2018.

I was scared – straight scared. But there wasn’t time to be scared or time to process or time in general. Action. Decision. There wasn’t time for anything else and that became apparent all too quickly – a life was on the line.

I’ve prided myself on my desire to be thrown into the deep-end. A passion to be constantly challenged living far outside my comfort zone. I thrive when challenged and when the pressure is on. I live for the challenge and the growth that comes through it. However, most of the time I have been able to control the challenges. Not this time.

For a brief background, I live and work for/with/alongside Richard and Caroline Wakefield while my Moringa company gets going. I’m helping develop their vegetable expansion as they move from 500kgs per week to potentially 4-8 tons per week. Anyway, in December, Richard’s son was visiting. Fresh out of University and we thought it’d be a good experience for Devon to join me in my trip to Namuno. It’s more remote and isolated and a very unique cultural experience. Plus, I’m well connected in Namuno and know it almost inside and out (however, there is always something new to learn!).

Dev is allergic to peanuts. Namuno is a massive peanut producing region. See where this could be going don’t you? When Dev first says he’s allergic to peanuts I inquire about how severe his allergy is – some people can eat products processed in peanut facilities all the way to some people who cant even have a crumb on their desk. He brushes off the question as I’m sure he has done so often. I’m left thinking, “okay allergic, but not too deadly”. Silly thought Daniel. Silly thought.

We get to Namuno and spend the day working on my farm. We’re marking lines and spacing for the thousands of trees about to be transplanted. We finish our walk and walk the 6km back to town. Exhausted, we stop at a restaurant for a well earned coke and some French fries with eggs. We double check that they haven’t used any peanuts in anything they’ve cooked today and that the oil is pure vegetable oil and also does not contain any peanuts. So far so good.

We spend the afternoon walking him around town, playing with the neighbourhood hooligans, fetching some water from the well, and end back at Eusebia’s house where I stay when I crash in Namuno. We sit down for dinner and go through the check-list again – making sure none of the pots/pans have had any peanut products today, inquiring about the last time peanuts were used in a dish, and making sure the oil is pure soy oil without peanuts. Everything checks out. Dev takes one bite and says “hmm something’s not right”. Maybe it was me being naive or my arrogance or what have you, but we double checked everything. He’s just overreacting is what I’m thinking. It’s in his head. I eat a few bits and cant taste a single peanut.

I eat a few more bits and still don’t taste any peanuts. It’s been 5 minutes and he’s on the phone with Richard. He’s convinced he’s having an allergic reaction. He’s had 7 reactions before so he knows what they’re like. I go to Eusebia and check one more time asking a plethora of questions trying to determine if there is any chance of peanuts in the meal. 10 minutes have passed and he’s forcing himself to throw-up. At this point, I’m still doubting. There’s absolutely no proof of any peanuts in the meal (looking back, LOL).

It’s been 10 minutes and he’s still convinced it’s a reaction. My worry starts to set in. Please don’t be a reaction. Please don’t be a reaction. Not here. Not now. Not in the middle of nowhere Mozambique – in the province they refer to as “the end of the world”. Where the hospital currently only has one doctor for the district of 200,000 people. Please don’t be an allergic reaction. He has some over the counter allergy medication with him. He hangs up the phone and we go inside so he can take some medication and I can do a full check of his body for any physical signs of an allergic reaction. Up to this point, there were no signs we could see, just his gut-feeling.

Sure enough, there’s swelling under his eyes. In my head it goes something like OH SHIT. But there 

isn’t time to freak out. It’s confirmed. He’s having an allergic reaction. Namuno is not the place to have a severe allergic reaction. Heck, 90% of Mozambique is not a place to have a severe allergic reaction. I know I can’t freak out. Any doubt I have must be locked away. If Dev senses one ounce of doubt it will only increase his own fear and induce shock. “Get your shirt on, we’re going to the hospital”.

Fortunately Eusebia is a nurse at the district hospital. I tell her that it’s confirmed an allergic reaction and she sees the swelling. I ask if she’s ever dealt with allergic reactions at the hospital before and she responds that there was one case a few years ago. I ask how severe and she says it was mild. The person would probably not have died without treatment – but she confirms the hospital has a treatment for allergic reactions.

Now, Dev doesn’t speak Portuguese which allows me to bluff at times with the translation. On our walk to the hospital (it’s a short 500 meters away), I translate to Dev and tell him the hospital has dealt with a severe allergic reaction and they have the treatment. I call Rich and Caro and tell them Dev has signs of an allergic reaction and we’re heading to the Hospital. They’re getting in their car and on their way – they live in Montepuez, a 60km dirt road away. Travel time roughly 90 minutes. I can hear his breathing worsening. He’s beginning to sweat. We arrive and the nurse on night duty wants to go through the routine of checking Dev in and registering him. Eusebia and I let him know there isn’t time to register, it’s time to administer medicine. By the time we reach the hospital it’s probably been about 20 minutes.

The nurse is fumbling with what to do. There isn’t time to fumble. I take charge and have him show me the medicine the hospital has. He says there’s two options so I tell him to give me both. Dev’s breathing is worsening. His hair is drenched in sweat. He’s exhausted and just asked if he could lie down on the floor. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. Of course, the nurse has never dealt with an allergic reaction and barely understands what’s going on. We’ve got the two medications. They’re pre-packaged in single doses. Finally, good news. I don’t have to worry about determining the medications dosage.

We’re trying to get a-hold of Dev’s mom in South Africa who would know more about which medication we should issue. Time is not our friend. I do a quick google search and confirm that both medications are for allergic reactions. The nurse has absolutely no idea which one to use. While Dev is trying to ask his mom, I’m talking to the nurse and Eusebia to find out about the doctor in Namuno and the ambulance. But of course, the ambulance is out of gas because the Hospital ran out of funds to buy gas. The gas station is also closed. I tell the nurse to grab the injection kit.

The top half of Dev’s shirt is soaked in sweat. His eyelids are drooping. I pick a vile and tell the nurse to inject it. He opens the kit (so grateful the hospital has individual kits with clean and sterile needles – PHEW). He starts putting on gloves and as he’s putting a glove on his right hand he rips it and casually grabs a new glove. I start wishing that I had the medical knowledge to stick a needle in a vein – if I did, I’d take over and just get it done. The nurse figures out how to put on a new glove without ripping it and uses the ripped glove to tie Dev’s upper arm to see the veins better.

Throughout this entire exchange, I’m doing everything I can to keep Dev awake and reassured that everything is going well. He can barely focus. I tell him the nurse is putting on gloves (and conveniently leave out the fact that the nurse ripped the glove and is wasting time putting on a new one). I’ve contacted the doctor, woken him up, and he is on his way. I’m keeping Rich/Caro and Dev’s mom in SA appraised of what we’re doing. I’m keeping my voice as calm as possible. The second my voice sounds like something is wrong, it will only further induce shock. Slow is smooth. Smooth is fast.

Alright, the nurse is finally attempting to put the needle in. Finally. Eusebia shouts at the nurse (and at this point I’m wishing Eusebia had just put on gloves herself to get the job done). HE MISSED THE VEIN. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT. (In Portuguese and a calm yet stern voice) “Mano, this man is about to die. If you do not administer this vial in the next 5 minutes he will die. You are going to remove you’re missed shot and administer the needle/vial through the vein in his hand, and now”.

“Dev hold on there, we just need to make sure that we have the needle in the vein. The nurse wasn’t able to find the vein in your arm so he’s putting it in to your hand. It’s all going smoothly. Just keep breathing, you’re doing great. And if you can, try to talk to me so I know you’re now asleep”. Dev’s entire shirt is soaked. The nurse gets the needle in and injects the vial. Medicine administered. Calling Rich and Caro to update – no answer. Strange, but I know the service is spotty on the road. Call Dev’s mom and update her. Call the doctor and find out when he’s getting here.

Dev is beyond exhausted and we take him to a bed to lie down. Breathing is faint. His body is clearly going through shock. He has body-shivers as he is lying down. Breathing still faint. SHIT SHOULD WE ADMINISTER BOTH??? Sweating stops. Breathing still faint. Rich and Caro still aren’t answering their phone. Could they have rolled their car? I know they’d be driving like bats out of hell. Okay, check the time – if I don’t hear from them within 15 minutes something with them is now also wrong. Send a WhatsApp message (WhatsApp allows you to see when a message is delivered and read). Message is not delivered (meaning they are outside service).

Dev is about to fall asleep and I’m doing everything I can to calmly keep him awake. Pulse is racing still. Breathing is a little better, not normal but better. Phew – okay – he’s not going to die on me. Huge relief. Phew phew phew. Rich and Caro answer the phone (PHEW). They’re entering Namuno now. They arrive to the hospital. Dev has stopped shivering but he is still exhausted beyond belief. The doctor shows up and takes us to a private room with better lighting (the one featured in the photo).

He begins taking vitals as I fill him in on what’s happened. After telling him which medication we issued, he said it’s an okay choice but not the best choice and we’ll be injecting the other medication as well straight into Dev’s rear. He has the nurse prepare the other medication while he begins writing up a report. He injects the medication. He says he’d like to have Dev stay the night to monitor him. Rich/Caro ask if we could leave and go back to Montepuez (I’m translating between the doctor and Rich/Caro/Dev). He says we’ll monitor vitals for the next hour and then if his shock has passed and he’s stable we can go home. I don’t even really care at this point. I’m in relief that he’s alive. I’m in relief that Rich/Caro didn’t flip in their truck. His vitals are stable and the doctor lets us go home.  Well this’ll be a story for the books. Maybe I should get more first-aid training (I have been wilderness first-aid certified and alongside with my scouting background I was relatively prepared for this kind of situation).

Generally, I like to control the situations where I’m thrown outside my comfort zone. Not this time – jokes on me. This is the first time the fate of someone’s life has been in my hands. It’s a scary thing. Looking back, I’m glad I’ve had the experience. If it happened again, I’d be even more ready – coach put me in. I’ve had various experiences in my life that prepared me for this moment; when I was 17 I coordinated an emergency evacuation of 400 people from a remote campsite due to a flood – but that’s another incredible story for another time. When the pressure is on, I’m that guy you give the bat.

I’m still processing what it was like to literally have the fate of a life in my hands. I’m thankful Dev handled everything like a champ and remained calm throughout the entire ordeal. I’m thankful for all of the pressure related experiences and medical training I’ve received that allowed me to act under the circumstances. And Dev, if you’re reading this just know it really was that close. Less than 5 minutes and I would’ve been asking for a breathing guard. I don’t know if you realized all of the bloody mistakes the nurse made, I tried to play it off.  

With all my heart,

Daniel

P.S. Thank you for reading all the way to the end! Expect a few more soon to make up for the past couple months.

Together We Can

6^th of December, 2018

I’m currently flying back to Boston after a trip in Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic. I’ve been visiting and shadowing Andrew Hermann, an old high school buddy from Seattle Prep, for the past 10 days. Oddly enough, out of our 10 days on the islands we never actually made it out to the beach – we were too busy spending time with rural farmers in the mountains, meeting with cooperatives in farming districts, and touring processing facilities!

Our typical day started around 7am with a plantain based breakfast, fresh juice, and cup of coffee and ended splitting a large beer on the roof of a 5-story  building contemplating what we’re doing and how many people do not know what the “rest of the world” is like.

Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic were nothing like what I was expecting. I don’t know exactly what I was expecting – maybe something a bit more isolated since my only abroad experience to this point was in Mozambique, Tanzania, and Zimbabwe. Both countries have a lot more roads and general infrastructure than I was accustomed to. But again, that’s in comparison to Mozambique, the 7^th poorest nation on the planet.

For starters, Puerto Rico is US territory so it should be comparable to one of the 50 states, or at least more or less. We drove up into the mountains to meet with a 3^rd generation coffee farmer hoping to secure some heirloom coffee varieties. Shortly outside of San Juan there are various MANSIONS – like we’re talking masssssive compounds with ocean views. However, we also pass a lot of houses affected by the hurricane that are still in shambles: missing walls or roofs. I can only imagine how many people have been displaced. We’re making our way to the highway Vito, the coffee farmer, said his farm was off of. Our directions aren’t quite correct and Vito tells us to just go back to town and ask someone there to give us directions. Of course, the first person we ask knows where Vito lives and gives us some initial directions. Along the way, we have to stop and ask random houses to help us navigate the mountain roads and determine where to turn. Arriving to the coffee farm, it’s very much what Andrew calls “Island time” (not too different than “Africa time”). We chat for awhile, enjoy a marvellous view, and then Vito takes us on his jeep through his coffee fields explaining his history and story. Of the heirloom varieties we are hoping to find, the bushes do not have any ripe berries and Vito did not save any from the last harvest. Heading out, he sends one of his workers to pick some fresh advocados as a gift for us.

Back in San Juan, we have a meeting at a government office looking for old designs for a school compound built in the 1970s. Driving through town, there are a lot of stop lights not working. They went out in the hurricane and are still not operational yet. It becomes clear that Puerto Rico is still recovering from the last hurricane and has a lot of infrastructure work left that needs to be done. We were able to secure the CAD drawings and head to a meeting with an engineering firm in town. Upon arrival, we are immediately provided with fresh coffee! It’s amazing how many times I had fresh coffee while in Puerto Rico and the DR. The islands definitely began to win my heart over with all of the fresh coffee. In general, Puerto Rico is a calmer lifestyle, has affordable beer and food, and its people are welcoming, kind, and willing to engage with you.

The Dominican Republic. Empanadas, plantain dishes, TONS of fruit. Driving in the DR is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. It’s kind of like whatever you can force you can to do, is allowed. Making a left turn from the right most lane? Go for it! The capital of Santo Domingo has some of the worst traffic I’ve ever seen. Andrew has been working in the DR for 8 years now and is able to explain and dissect the history. There has been a disaspora from the rural areas into the cities. Total population of the country is 10 million with 5 million living in cities. Santo Domingo has been built on the fly resulting in poorly designed roads leading to horrific traffic.

In the DR, we visit some Moringa farms, packaging facilities, and make our way to Andrew’s host family out in a rural coffee community in the mountains. Seeing Andrew interact with his host family brings me back to my host family in Namaacha, Mozambique. There are sooooo many good people and quality families in the world. All of them constantly opening their hearts and homes to others.  

Without a host family, integrating into the DR or Mozambique would have been incredibly challenging for Andrew and myself. It’s only together, as a community, that we can achieve the world we need to build. Andrew and I are using agriculture as a tool to serve the environment, economies, and communities in our respective spheres of influence in the world. Many of us may not realize the beauties, magics, and challenges farmers throughout the world (including the US) are experiencing.

Short human history note: Agriculture and food is the basis of our society. Until wheat and barley were discovered the vast majority of peoples were nomads (the only non-nomadic and non-agriculture communities were fishing communities, one located in modern day china and the other somewhere on the west coast, I forget if it was in Canada or the US). With the introduction of wheat and barley, production spiked. We then created silos to store the food and thus began small communities of 100-150 people.

How we eat, what we eat, how our food is grown, and where are food comes from are the core fundamentals of our lifestyles around the world. The beautiful aspect is we have developed technology so not everyone needs to be a farmer! However, if we forget what sustains us and what gives us life, we may forget the value of what it actually means to be alive.

I know this was a little bit longer of a post, so thank you for reading to the end! I have a challenge for you – pick any kind of vegetable you enjoy and grow it indoors (if you already do this, that’s great!). Just one potted plant, maybe a potted tomato plant. Watch your own food grow. Learn about the disease challenges farmers face. Engage just a little bit more with your roots, with that which sustains you.

May we continue to work together to build a better world for all peoples.

With all of my heart,

Daniel Bladow

 

The Strength to Endure

November 9^th, 2018

The Strength to Endure

Maurice and I celebrating his citizenship interview

The past couple months I picked up some part time work while in Boston as a health care aid. And today I want to highlight the incredible strength of two people – Banu, the woman I helped care for and secondly Maurice, my Ugandan colleague. Oftentimes we don’t know the strength that lies within until we are in a situation that requires the awakening of a deeper part of ourselves. A part of ourselves that we may not know even exists.

Banu is a 51-year-old woman who used to manage various property businesses across the US and Turkey and was the President of Alumni at MIT. Three years ago, she suffered a knee injury and had surgery. Shortly after the surgery, she was complaining of a pain at the back of her head. Thinking it was merely a headache, they waited nearly 24 hours before scanning her brain, but it was too late. A blood clot had formed at the base of her brain and she further endured a brain aneurysm. She entered a coma and was sustained on life support. Hope was gone – a mother of two would surely pass. Her family prepared for her passing and settled on taking her off of life support. Banu’s father would not let his angel go without a fight – he convinced the family to keep her on life support and eventually she came out of her coma. At this point, she had no ability to move anything other than her eyelids and was completely sustained by machines to keep her body functioning.

After 1 year in the hospital, she was discharged and her father setup hospice care in their apartment. During her second year (first year being home), her health was riddled with UTIs and frequent ambulance rides to the hospital. Now in her third year since the original injury, she no longer frequents the emergency room. She has regained the ability to move individual fingers and can nearly walk 20 meters with a walker and next to no support. She is regaining the ability to speak at about a rate of 1 word every couple seconds.

I have had the pleasure of seeing her progress these past 2 months. I’ve changed her diapers, discussed politics and economics, and taken her on drives along the New England coastline to see the leaves change colors. For nearly 3 years she has been trapped in her head. She is highly intelligent, loves a cognitive challenge, and was physically active. She is fully cognitively aware but struggles to communicate. Every day is a fight for her. A fight to get out of bed, get washed, dressed, do physical therapy, practice eating, and somehow still maintain a positive spirit.

Not only does she focus on what she needs, but she is extremely aware of the needs of everyone else 

around her. She asked me about my dreams and what I’m doing to follow them. She has had many talks with Maurice (another health care aid working for her) and fully supports his initiative to better educate himself and find better opportunities. Last week she took Maurice to New York to see a Broadway show and celebrate his passing of his citizenship interview.

Now for Maurice. He comes from a political family in Uganda. He fled Uganda to a nearby country until he obtained official status to come to the states. Upon obtaining his green card, he came to the US about 3 years ago. A culture he had only seen on the TV. A people where everything is perfect right? Where all of the people are wealthy? Where there are no problems? A country where hunger does not exist?

He had no family here. No friends. No one to explain the culture. He took to the streets of New York and created a family among the streets for himself. Slowly, he learned what it meant to interact like an American. He learned American phrases, gestures, and body language. He connected with Ugandans in the East Coast and eventually a fellow Ugandan was able to help him find legitimate work in Boston. Now he works for Banu. He dreams of the day where he can hold an American passport – which should now be fairly soon! He passed his initial citizenship interview and is in the processing for US Citizenship.

In Uganda, he studied law and worked as a lawyer for several years. Now he is hopeful he can one day attend an American university to receive a degree in economics or politics.

Both Banu and Maurice demonstrate a strength that we all have within ourselves. Sometimes we don’t know it’s there until we are thrown into the pits and have to summon a courage allowing us to act not because of our fear but despite our fears. I’d like to end with an excerpt from Rudyard Kipling’s ‘Brother Square Toes’- Rewards and Fairies’:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings

  And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

  And never breathe a word of your loss;

If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

  To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

  Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

May we have the strength to be kinder and more patient with ourselves. May we have the strength to accept our own humanity.

With all of my heart,

Daniel

The Return of Daniel Bladow

October 5th, 2018

A group of Mozambique Returned Peace Corps Volunteers 

I did the craziest thing last weekend! I was walking down the street like any normal day. Well, except there’s only concrete everywhere and I cannot for the life of me find some normal sand or dirt to walk on. It’s just row after row after row of concreted/asphalted ground – disconnected from the life and planet that lives beneath us. Anyway, walking down the street I pass a 7-Eleven. Pausing for a moment, I have a genius idea – I walk in and BUY A DONUT. MIND BLOWN. Like seriously BLOWN. I bought a donut. No rhyme or reason or anything. I just bought a donut. And it was delicious and filled with sugar and disgusting and sweat and everything I could have ever dreamed it would be. Arriving at home, I stepped up my game – I called a local pizza store and ORDERED A PIZZZZZZAA!!!!!! And it gets better – there was customer service, a patient gentleman taking my call helping me decide what kind of pizza I wanted. Then, the pizza CAME TO ME in a timely manner and it was still hot when it arrived. Man. Boy oh boy. Unlike anything I’ve had in a long time. The simple comforts of being able to buy a donut off the street or order a pizza and not have to leave the apartment.

Being back is weird. It’s harder for me to be back than it was for me to leave. Sometimes I struggle to explain the difference – life is fundamentally different in Mozambique. My colleagues and neighbours in Mozambique fight to survive yet are often happy and sometimes sad/tired. They go for walks and enjoy spending time with others. I integrated myself into their culture and adapted it, in-part, as my own. I would lose track of time and go for long walks. I would get lost in a book for hours or days on end.

Here’s the big difference as bet I can define it: the standard of living in the US is higher: access to clean water, food, sanitation, formal jobs, etcetera. The lifestyle in the US is more stressful: what are you doing with your life? How much money do you make? Where is your career going? Why aren’t you doing anything productive right now? Are you good enough of a person? Once all of those aspects are taken care of, only then can you take a break from the work grind and relax/play.

In Mozambique, your concerns are more basic because you focus on food, water, housing, education. Once those aspects of your day are covered, you spend time with friends and family chatting, relaxing, and playing. Spending time with the people around you is highly valued – even if you don’t know them!!

It used to be socially acceptable for me to start a conversation with anyone – on the bus, sidewalk, or in a store. Now, I’m supposed to sit close on the subway and put in headphones and try hard not to make eye-contact with anyone. Be quiet. Be still. Don’t disturb anyone around you. I’ve never been good at following the rules; I start random conversations with strangers and get to know them. I have less social anxiety about conversing with the cute girl taking her dog for a walk in the park or the Haitian gentleman driving my subway.

All-in-all, I am adjusting but some things I hope I never adjust to. I hope I never get used to walking on concrete or striking up conversations with strangers. If you’ve read my blogs, you know how the concept of heated, pressurized, and potable water at any spigot/facet is INSANE. It’s also amazing and makes my life much easier. The ironic part of being back is I spend less time fetching water, cleaning dishes, and washing clothes yet I some how have less free time in my day-to-day life. Seems legit?

Every day I am still processing the last 2 years of my life. I’ve had some close encounters. Like an open-back vehicle without functioning brakes and the engine died on the way up a hill. I had to bail because it started to roll backwards, and the driver decided to take it into a ditch risking a roll-over instead of coasting down the hill. Or the time a 4-foot-deep river formed and washed out the road between my town and Montepuez making it much more challenging to get my monthly salary…

I’ve had some heart-breaking experiences. Like when my house was broken into and the thieves stole things from my room and I did not wake up. It took me a few months after that to sleep normally through the night. Or the time a fellow teacher manipulated his students and tried to force them to pay him a bribe. Or the moment I realized that the Millennium Development Goals (and other United Nations programs/initiatives) in many cases are reinforcing humanitarian crimes. Basically the “statistic-driven evaluation” forces countries to fake development further reinforcing a broken system. Bribery and rape in the high schools gets reinforced because of the pressure to have x% of students pass an elevated curriculum so that on paper it looks like within y years Mozambique’s education system will be equivalent to the international standard.

I’ve had heart-warming experiences. Like my neighbours who brought me food and money after my house was broken into, or the neighbourhood kids who led more of an investigation into the thieves than the actual police (I’m currently laughing at how ridiculous this is: a group of 4-to-14-year-olds led a better investigation than the police chief). Or the time a student came over to practice math – I did not have time to help him so I gave him some toys and colouring supplies. He wrote me a letter saying, “Daniel you know I did not come to play. Today I came to learn.” You can bet I was never too busy for a student again. Or my 9^th graders who became tutors and helped teach my 8^th graders how to add, subtract, multiply, and divide. In Montepuez I received a warm-welcoming by the American families who work on bible translations and pastoral development. Richard and Caroline repeatedly welcomed me into their house. They fed me, had my clothes washed in a washing machine, and lifted my spirits. In Namuno, Eusebia constantly offered her advice, knowledge, and protection. She welcomed me into her family. The director invited me over for meals and loved discussing math. The French teacher practiced coding skills with me and wants to start a chicken farm! Lino and Samuel helped with all household chores, so they could earn simple things like a cheap phone.

I am deeply honoured and humbled to have had the opportunity to serve in the Peace Corps and in Mozambique.

I’m currently living in Boston until Mid-November when I have some client visits, Thanksgiving, more client visits, and then back to Mozambique by early December. I have a long list of things I aim to do, many of which I’ve already crossed off: hiking, order a pizza, go to the top 30 coffee shops in Boston, salsa dancing, see a movie in a theatre, drink all the beers, and many other random-ish things. It’s a much-needed reprieve. I’m catching my breath and preparing for the oncoming challenges – the uphill battle of starting my own company and having financial responsibilities to my employees and their families. I have some part-time work, so I don’t dip into my savings while in Boston. Most other moments are me buying donuts from 7-Elevens or making connections and expanding my network for our agriculture company in Mozambique (check-out our website: NKAgSolutions.com).

For many, Peace Corps is the highest highs and lowest lows. Not only that, but it has been a humbling experience full of growth, sadness, and strength. Everything I wanted out of my Peace Corps experience I’ve been given (challenge, growth, adapting a 2^nd culture/language). Now it’s my turn to give back.

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow

P.S. I will continue to write my blog posts! I have plenty of content I still want to write but already recognize my posts are generally on the longer side anyway.

Farmer Bladow

July 18^th, 2018

Farmer Bladow! I grew up behind a 15 acre farm. When I was 4-years-old, my mom asked me to go outside and grab a vegetable we could cook for dinner. So I did – and came back with 6 freshly picked ears of corn!! Well, here we are nearly 20 years later and now I am a farmer!

Let’s get started with an update on what’s happened. Peace Corps made the decision to close down the province of Cabo Delgado. There were sets of extremist attacks in northern Cabo Delgado. Combined with other complications, Peace Corps withdrew all volunteers from Cabo Delgado. I was in the States for my older sister’s wedding when this decision was made. I was provided with two options – be relocated for my remaining 5 months in a border province or complete my service now, a little bit early. If I chose to be relocated, Peace Corps had offered me an amazing site in Niassa serving alongside one of my PCV friends, Tatsumi. If I chose to finish immediately, I would be allowed to return to Mozambique, have 12 hours at site to clean-up and say goodbyes, and then complete my Peace Corps service.

The two weeks following the Peace Corps evacuation of Cabo were some of the most taxing weeks of the past two years. I struggled sleeping and struggled with bits of anxiety. I like to think I understand my emotions well and remain clear headed amidst stressful situations. The first incident knocking me off my high horse was the break-in last January. For several months following the break-in I woke up several times during the night with an elevated pulse. The two weeks following the evacuation were similar in kind – increased stress and anxiety.

I made the decision to complete my Peace Corps service – so I am officially a Returned Peace Corps Volunteer (RPCV)!! As a Peace Corps Volunteer one is not allowed to engage in self-profitable business. I have personally seen, experienced, and interacted with the different ways a lack of jobs in Namuno reinforces wage and labor abuse, prostitution, and malnutrition. I chose to finish my service with Peace Corps to start a farm in Namuno. When I first made this decision it felt crazy – I finished Peace Corps to return to a province they evacuated and start a company. I no longer have the support of the US Government. I suppose one has to be a special kind of crazy to make a decision like I did!

Now that I am in the heat of implementing my dream, it is invigorating and exciting!! Me and my team of 8 workers are preparing 9 hectares (nearly 23 acres) of land to plant roughly 14,500 Moringa trees. The Moringa tree is generally harvested for its leaves or seeds. It is a highly nutritious tree – the leaves are high in protein and provide all the amino acids needed by humans! We are planting to harvest the seeds to produce Moringa oil. The oil can be used to cook but due to a high price per litre is primarily used in cosmetic products – think hair and skin products. The plan is to train smallholder farmers so we can more quickly increase our access to quality seeds and increase our impact in the local region. We hope to train 25 smallholder farmers in December and then we will supply them with certified PKM-1 and PKM-2 seeds for planting on their own lands. We will then buy the seeds off them at harvest each year.

Logistically, I spend 6 nights a week in Montepuez working for and living with Richard and Caroline. Richard was a director of operations for Plexus, the cotton company in Cabo, but left 18 months ago to begin a 5-acre intensive drip-irrigation vegetable farm to combat surging vegetable prices in the local market. While in Montepuez, I build out the company and develop connections. The company license will most likely be completed in the next month! The 7^th day I am in Namuno checking in on our team and helping to prepare the 9 hectares for planting.

Each day comes new challenges and things to learn! I can be painting a room, installing water pipping, picking cabbages, disassembling a chainsaw, attending a meeting about Richard’s grant from gas giant Anadarko, meeting with some of Richard’s clients, or just cutting down a tree. Just last week, Richard and I were delivering several hundred kilograms of fresh produce to the Ruby Mine operating in Montepuez!

By the end of August, I’ll be back in the states for 3 months to allow enough time for my work-visa to clear. I plan on returning to Mozambique in December to further build out our operations and training program. I’ll be in Puerto Rico and the Dominican Republic the end of November and beginning of December visiting a partner and a client for the Moringa oil. Long-term I’m hoping to split my time between the States and Mozambique. As you may now know, I do not backdown easily from a fight and I have no issue having to box clever as they say. I will always stand with the marginalized and refuse to do nothing. I acknowledge that I may fail, but also recognize that there are 8 families who now depend on the success of our project. In the following year, there well could be hundreds of families depending on the success of our project. As such, there is but one option – success.

With all my heart,

Daniel Bladow

P.S. I will continue my blog posts! Every month is full of adventures, random stories, and life lessons to write about.