This is a story about international aid and a trip to the
bathroom. First, I have to tell
you a little bit about AUA’s two buildings. The main building of the university is an old Soviet
government building and AUA leases the building from the current Armenian
government. When you enter the
main building there is a large foyer where students will sit and
socialize. On the back wall the
Armenian and American flags hang side by side as a gentle reminder of the
countries’ partnership. And just
so the students don’t forget who helped make their education at AUA possible,
there are multiple signs around the foyer with the words “USAID: From the
American People.” But I
digress. The second building at
AUA is attached to this one and is clean, new, and bright. This is where I go to the bathroom.
The toilets in the AUA bathroom struck me on the first
flush. These toilets weren’t like
other toilets I had used in Armenia.
Upon pushing down the lever there was a monstrous roar as the water
forcefully ensured everything was gone in a flash. This was so unlike many of the other “flush and pray”
toilets I had experienced here. It
only took a quick glance behind the bowl to realize why this was the case. American Standard. 1.6 gal/flush. I’ve taken comfort in going to the
bathroom at AUA, knowing I can have confident in the plumbing. But today I had a new epiphany: my
bathroom comfort is just another example of flawed international aid.
During my time abroad I’ve seen the fingerprints of USAID
all over. They love leaving their
little stickers on everything proclaiming “From the American People.” I remember seeing them on desks at a
community center in Nairobi, on an old can of vegetable oil in my home stay
family’s house in a rural village near Mombasa, and I’ve seen them here as
well. This seems all well and good
(and oh so generous of “the American people”) until we take a look behind the
curtain. Here’s just one example. According to The Guardian, in 2011 two-thirds of the food purchased by the 1
billion dollar US food aid program was bought from three of America’s largest
agribusinesses. Our taxpayer
dollars are supporting large American businesses while the people in need
suffer. American food aid doesn’t
help stimulate local economies in developing regions, and local farmers often
can’t compete with the imported staples.
Sure, we’re all about giving, but by giving on our own terms we’re
really only taking an opportunity to help ourselves, and consequently we’re
hurting others.
Back to the bathrooms.
This morning at AUA I made a trip to the loo after finishing my
coffee. (Yes, I’m drinking black
coffee fairly regularly. Who would
have thought?!) Well you know what
happens after coffee, so I was thankful for those powerful flushing
machines. But today while sitting
on that porcelain throne, I thought more about how these toilets actually got
to Armenia. This new building at
AUA is also no doubt made possible by “the American people.” But how could we let the builders do
the easy thing and buy the toilets in Yerevan? Did American Standard make a generous toilet donation? My guess is no. These toilets were likely purchased
with US aid money, sending that money back to the US. Now I’m no expert on the workings of public toilets but I
also wouldn’t doubt that any needed replacement part is nowhere to be found locally,
as I’ve never seen another lever flush model here, which is standard in any US
public restroom. So next time I’m
thankful for the forceful flusher at AUA, I’ll also be thanking “the American
people.”
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