What makes a project or a programme a success? We’ve been visiting projects and individuals on route, trying to learn a bit more. Far from academic research, we were gathering ad hoc views and insights - of those who have initiated, or managed, or benefitted from certain schemes. Here’s a little of what we’ve learned.
1. Every project is social
From deforestation to public health, conserving water to promoting youth entrepreneurship in the Sierra - what may be considered an ‘environmental’ or ‘health’ project was ultimately a social one at it’s core.
Why social? Firstly, achieving the technical aims of each project required a thorough understanding of the wider social context, on individual motivations and community ‘ways of working’. Rainforest protection could be achieved through better education in the mountains, or native chili sauce exported to Europe - because these projects understood and acted on the underlying context and drivers. In contrast, only 2/3rds of the ‘Casas Calientes’ were still operational - the technical specifications were perfect, but the coordinator hadn’t understood that villagers would be far away in their fields in the afternoon, and unable to close the stoppers on the tubes every day.
Secondly, community engagement was, of course, essential for success. Endev required that families invested themselves, to ensure they were receiving help which they actually wanted. COAGRO was founded by a community member. (In many projects, communities would be involved due to an interested contact, or a call of interest - self selecting those who would be most likely to invest time and energy, and as a result most likely to be successful.)
Thirdly, communication with those affected is crucial. The ‘payees’ for clean water in Moyobamba needed more than just a workshop to understand why they were giving money every month, and to ensure their support and the success of the scheme.
All sensible stuff. But what surprised us the most about the ‘social’ aspects of projects was the difference that personality and charisma made. Surely the success of a Payments for Ecosystem Services scheme would depend on the rigor of monetising benefits, of opportunity costs and attributing actors, actions and beneficiaries, rather than the bantering ability of an agroforester, or the charisma of a chairman? But what we found time and time again was that personality of the project leader and project field workers - and a genuine connection with those involved - was crucial for the success of projects. Farmers in Moyobamba working with AMPA and Conservation International stayed involved through difficult social times due to the support of the enthusiastic Kelvin; farmers in one of the agroforestry schemes of Stitching Samay would turn out even on ‘bad days’ due to the respect they held for the father; disputes in the Moyobamba PES committee were smoothly managed by the hugely charismatic Professora Chepita.
2. Follow through before you start…
We were faced with a number of farmers in Peru who, based on advice - and specific credit from a Government scheme - dedicated their land to growing a the latest ‘trendy’, higher value crop, such as Sacha Inchi, or Palm Oil. Farmers without access to internet, to check market prices and processing facilities, only trust in their charismatic local representative. They realised 2 years later, when the crop was mature, that there were no buyers. Or, the steps involved in transporting their crop to a buyer (or processing plant) cost more than the potential revenue from the sales. On-the-ground realities of a certain area and it’s market infrastructure were not thought through before initiating a project. A ‘success’ was announced because a certain number of people had signed up to take part in the scheme, but nothing was mentioned of the outcomes 2 years later - whether higher, more stable income, were achieved. Rather, farmers were left with credit to repay, no income, and in some severe cases, little ‘safety net’, of crops for their own consumption.
In contrast, AMPA had followed through before they started involving farmers to designate a proportion of their rice paddies to growing shrimps. AMPA had already sourced their high value market - chefs in Lima were clambering after these sustainable fresh-water shrimps, ensuring the farmers had ready buyers as soon as the first shrimps were ready. Plant Your Future had found a high-end buyer for the native chili sauce the farmers were growing and producing.
3. …to make a project last for longer
We encountered well-meaning technology projects, building a hydroelectric plant or solar panels to link remote villages to electricity. Villagers were again without electricity 2 years later. The plant had broken and no-one in the village knew how to fix it. Or the solar panel batteries needed replaced, but there was nowhere in a 100km radius to buy new ones. No-one had thought longer than the 24 months of the funding. Or when they had, the ‘longevity plans’ involved a 3 hour workshop with illiterate farmers, to explain the details of electronics and the maintenance schedule.
In contrast, we came across a number of projects which had ‘followed through’ - where the long term vision and exit plan at the end of the funding was central to their way of operating. As a result, it was often the case that fewer shorter term outcomes were achieved. Less houses in the first year, or fewer solar panels delivered. The project leaders were confident that the difference they were making would last for longer - their ‘exit plan’ meant that the existing communities or supply chains would continue the work. However, this was a clash with certain funders, wanting to see boxes ticked within 6 months, or assessing cost effectiveness during the bidding process. The continuing outputs or outcomes was rarely something which their funders would be assessing or checking up on, 5 or 10 years in the future.
There were a few key principles we learnt from such ‘longer-term’ projects:
In the Colombian highlands and lowlands, we visited a few projects of Mauricio Gnecco, an inspiring Colombian renewable energy engineer. Ensuring technological projects lasted in the long term were central to his way of working. He told us he never ‘acts the engineer’: in Los Llanos, he stood casually at the base of the wind turbine in construction, now and then providing assurance to the enthusiastic William, strapped to the turbine as he adjusted the blades. Mauricio never carries out any of the work himself. Turbines or irrigation technologies are constructed on site, by locals. Locals spend days slowly learning how to construct each part, understanding by trial and error why a screw shouldn’t go in a certain place. Later in the year, when something goes wrong, they know what needs to be fixed - and how to fix it with the things they have in the field. They don’t need to pay for an engineer, or order a part which will never arrive.
Mauricio always seeks to involve the “inner child” of adults. For example, organising football leagues which tie in with engineering maintenance schedules - using people’s existing passions to encourage interest in a certain issue. When he knew there would be a potential hydro project in San Jose, he visited the community and took the young boys and teenagers fishing - starting to form a bond through their favourite activity, then gradually showing them how a turbine moved in the water, and sparking an interest. He knew that these boys would become key throughout the building schedule and the maintenance engineers of 15 years time.
Endev were also thinking with the long term in mind, working to create a local market for these goods, to ensure that the supply chains and engineers were in place, with incentives to visit these rural areas and provide a maintenance service for decades after the short-term Endev project was over. Endev and Stichting Samay provided “no gifts” - families always had to contribute a proportion themselves - to ensure that there was a viable local market for potential businesses. Plus, the contribution - in money or time - would ensure that the services or products provided were actually something which the community wanted or needed. And, as a result, had the motivation to maintain - and make the service last for longer.
4. A patchwork of projects, but where is the master-seamstress?
We cycled through a patchwork of projects and basic service coverage in Peru and Bolivia. A village benefiting from drinking water and hydroelectricity because a French hiker passed by,
saw a gap in basic services, had friendly encounters with a few locals and determined to “do something” about it. Or, a remote valley with a fully staffed hospital and children’s care centre, because the son of one of the farmers became a mountain guide and interested foreigners in the plight of his family. All amazing stories, of valient acts of kindness. But what makes these villages more deserving than others, due to this “luck” and chance encounters? What about those who live far from the track of hikers and guiders?
We were told that information is often missing. Information which we can take for granted in Europe: on community member numbers, their needs, their vulnerabilities. One Gov’t scheme, warm houses for vulnerable households, provided expensive new houses, many of which stood unused, since the regional Gov’t were not aware that these same households had already received housing support from another NGO. While a poorer village, 30km away, was crying out for support for any of it’s members.
Some groups we met were trying to improve the level and quality of information. Soluciones Practicas Peru were mapping communities, access to electricity, with potential and suitability for energy solutions, to provide a ‘heat map’ of priorities. Yet such a map of priorities didn’t seem to exist for all services, and there seemed to be a chorus line of small NGOs and individuals, trying to help out, all singing slightly different songs at different rhythms.
5. Where is the Government?
A role for Government is surely to help to provide this coordinator and ‘seamstress’ role, when it is missing. What is holding it back? In Bolivia, one of our hosts told us that whenever they had problems with their drinking water or electricity they contacted an NGO, or convinced another passing mountaineer to get involved. Even just for the equivalent of ½ a day’s engineering work, or less than $100, the process with the regional Gov’t was too bureaucratic. “It takes too long, a request often will not be successful. They are too busy building football stadiums in the towns where their brothers live, to care about drinking water for rural people”, we were told. It is easier to convince a foreigner to give some money or get another foreign NGO involved.
But where, then, is the push for the regional government to improve, to change their priorities to reflect the priorities to those of their citizens? It almost seemed that the willingness for individuals and NGOs to help could be quashing the accountability of Gov’t in some areas, halting the development of better functioning institutions.
6. “Trust me, I’m a Doctor (of philosophy)”
Projects, from Government and NGOs, need to have the ‘right’ information, the ‘right’ knowledge and technical capabilities, the right connection with and initiative from local communities, stepping out at the ‘right’ time to make sure these communities are masters of their own futures . But what happens when there is a clash between these? When peer-reviewed findings clash with what the local community thinks should happen?
Finding this boundary is a remaining question for us. Ayni Wasi wanted to ensure the project was led and influenced by the local communities, so that they could better achieve their aims and work towards an ‘exit plan’, where the communities were trained sufficiently to take everything on. But there was a clash between academic research - suggesting that community health schemes are most successful when the volunteers have more than 5 years schooling - and the views of the local villagers, choosing those unable to read or write. They opted for the views of the villagers, but questioned their approach when faced with ladies unable to count breaths, or even place a cross at the appropriate place on the sheet.
We delved into the details of water management in Colombia, and specifically a project backed by US AID. To develop the best possible information, modelling tools were used which were beyond the understanding of local decision-makers and communities. The time required to input information to the model, for the ‘right’ analysis, was not a priority of already pressed local officials. (The project is now including the modelling programme in a local University course, so that local decision-makers can take their own decisions on how and when to use this).
We visited a number of successful pilot projects - where an example was going to be made, to funders, to replicate it elsewhere - but it was clear they would not be successful if applied in other, distinct circumstances. Or, schemes which would not be a success if rolled out beyond the small areas where currently applied. Tara beans, or sustainable fresh water shrimps, can only increase the incomes of poor farmers when their prices are high - but not when the numbers of suppliers increase 100-fold and they struggle even to sell the goods they have.
7. Be curious. Ask questions.
When wind-operated pumps were developed by other local businesses and NGOs, Endev stepped out. When their micro Anaerobic Digesters had a low success rate, Endev had already collected the information and knew they could improve things. “Rios Paramos de Vallees..etc” - working on water management in Colombia - realised they had to incorporate the model in University courses.
Successful projects asked the right questions - to know if their actions were working, and if not, why not. They questioned their ways of working, and were confident enough to take criticism and change approaches.
Unsuccessful projects used blinkers or even blindfolds. Representatives or farmers could seeing that there was no market or processing plant, but would continue on regardless, hoping that a road would be built in the next 3 months in time for the harvest. Funders would accept the re-scaling of a pilot project, without asking how the conditions differed, and whether this had been taken into account.
These are, of course, only what we have learnt on this specific route, along the tarmac roads and gravel paths where our mountain-bike tyres have taken us. Many aspects which we have learnt from these projects and areas won’t apply in other continents, or with other groups. Every project is, of course, social. But, many of these lessons do apply - even in the UK, or Germany - with large Government programmes or small social enterprises. More learning is ahead. We will continue to be curious.
