Excerpt from “Moments of Being”

By Barrie Brett

“I didn’t know what I would do, but I knew I had to do something.” Dick Young

Dick Young’s career as a film and television producer/director has spanned four decades. Over the years, he has been awarded many honors, including three Academy Award nominations for his documentaries and a National Emmy award for cinematography. Many of his sponsored projects for large multi-national corporations have been produced in his signature documentary style.

In the last few years, the majority of Dick’s work has been in producing humanitarian film and video projects for non-profit organizations. While working on one of these films, Dick met a group of people whose plight gave him a purpose that would change the shape of his career and his life.

One morning, I happened to walk by Dick Young’s edit session while he was supervising and producing a video project. The visuals and story on the monitor were so compelling that I stood outside the door transfixed. The video project documented lives turned around as rural famers in remote African villages were given a chance at a new livelihood. I interviewed Dick a short time later; his ‘helping hand’ moment will touch your heart.

(Note from The Denan Project: Since this book’s publication in 2009, The Denan Project has grown substantially. Today we work with communities in five different locations: Denan, Ethiopia; Ouadaradouo, Burkina Faso; Tariat, Mongolia; Uratari, Peru; and the Navajo Nation in Arizona, USA. Since our founding in 2004, we have provided free medical care to more than 400,000 people around the world. All of this work stems from Dick’s initial commitment to “do something to help.”)

The Denan Project: A Helping Hand

Dick Young’s Story

After I graduated from high school, I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life.

Instead of heading off to college like many of my friends, I ended up serving in the Air Force for three years. There, I was placed in a division that made training films. I went out with various commercial crews, and also volunteered to direct military crews to produce a monthly newsreel seen by everyone in the Air Force. It was on-the-job training for the film industry.

After my three years, I was able to land a freelance job with Life Magazine. Traveling around the world with the Life reporters, I was responsible for sound. Every once in a while I would be asked to shoot a newsreel, even though at that point I barely knew the front of a camera from the back. When that happened, I would run to the nearest equipment rental store and ask them to show me how to load and shoot.

Then, I was asked to shoot and edit a film about paper making. Again, I’d been asked to do a job that was totally new to me, a job at which I had no experience whatsoever. I’d never edited anything before, and I had to learn as I went along. Apparently I did okay, because the publisher of Life Magazine asked if I would help to put together a film chronicling his career, to accompany the announcement of his retirement. The film was well-received, and I was put under contract with the idea of helping to start a film/television division where the famous Life photographers could work, since we knew that Life Magazine would soon be closing its doors.

Two years later, I decided to strike out on my own. Since then, I’ve been fortunate enough to make films and videos for major corporations and non-profit entities, including various United Nations organizations, the Ford Foundation, IBM, Exxon, Motorola, Mercedes Benz and the Chrysler Corporation. It’s humbling to think that in the past forty years my work has been seen by people in over one hundred countries.

Several years ago, I became involved with charitable organizations that produce films and television shows documenting world humanitarian issues, including poverty, health crises, sanitation issues and hunger. While traveling on assignment for Heifer International, I learned firsthand of the problems caused by drought and famine in the Horn of Africa.

In the course of that assignment, I decided to take a few days off and do some filming of my own. I thought I might produce a little piece about what I saw. Although there were several areas I could have selected, I chose Denan, Ethiopia. I don’t think, looking back, that this was simply by chance.

My crew and I were devastated by what we saw there. Several thousand men, women and children had come to this particular area, hoping to find shelter and fresh water, but there was none. People were sick and dying all around us. They had walked for miles and miles, watching friends and family members die of starvation, dehydration, and illness along the way. For weeks, they’d had barely enough food and water to keep themselves alive.

We were shooting with tears running down our faces. My sound man was sobbing aloud. It was so hard to stand by, just watching and filming, while people suffered in these appalling conditions.
When it was time for us to leave, the district administrator came up to me, and said seven words that changed my life forever. He said: “Please do something to help my people.”

I didn’t know what I could do, but I knew I had to do something.

I put together a video from the footage, and showed it to various friends. Again, I wasn’t sure of the goal: maybe just to raise some money, or hire a doctor for a year. Soon, there were eight of us collecting donations. Sometimes those donations were only $100, sometimes $500. Then, one day, a friend gave us $15,000, and I knew we were on our way.

The eight of us knew that we had to keep our goals reasonable. We couldn’t solve the world hunger crisis by ourselves, but we could try to offer some medical care to the people of Denan. And that’s what we did, opening a two-room facility in an abandoned building.

Now, only a few years later, we’re operating a twenty nine room hospital with a paid, caring staff of over thirty people. We have a lab for sophisticated tests, a pre-natal care center, and vaccination and medical outreach programs. We also sponsor agricultural and cottage industry programs, and we’re building a water pipeline. Best of all, we have served over forty-five thousand Ethiopians so far, and none of them have had to pay a cent. Thousands of people come to us from across the desert, sometimes walking over a hundred miles with little food and water through areas where there are no roads. The area around Denan is prone to drought and famine, and there are dangerous rebel insurgencies, but at least we have been able to provide a safe haven for those who need medical help.

When I heard the Denan district administrator say “Please do something to help my people,” my life changed. I have a new focus. If I had never heard that plea, I probably would have made a small film about the effects of drought on the displaced people of Ethiopia; maybe I would have taken it to a film festival. But those words, spoken in that moment, were a miracle to me, and they inspired in me a drive to make a difference to the people of Denan and to people around the world. Ever since that moment, my life and future are dedicated to the Denan Project.

Visit to Denan, Ethiopia

Standing with the women of DenanStanding next to some of the women of Denan

By Alice Norwick, Volunteer

It was a long journey from my small town of Woodbury, CT to reach the small desert town of Denan, Ethiopia, almost half way around the globe.  But as a Board Member of The Denan Project for nearly a decade, I’ve always wanted to visit our original project in Denan, to see first-hand the work that our organization has done for this community.  This February that dream became a reality.

Just getting to Denan was a feat.  After a 13-hour flight to Ethiopia’s capitol, Addis Ababa, we took another 3-hour flight to the small town of Gode.  From there we drove for an hour on a new road across the desert, a chalky moonscape of dust, sand, rocks and low growth shrubs.  Every so often we’d pass a few very small huts made of curved sticks with a covering of fabric from cut-up food aid sacks and nearby we might see a herd of goats and sheep with their young shepherds attending them.

The Denan Health Center is a compound on the outskirts, separate from the small village of Denan and within walking distance of the Internally Displaced Persons (IDP) Camp that has existed  since the major drought and famine of 2000.  All the beds were filled with overnight patients.  These were some of the lucky ones, those who had gotten to the hospital and were now receiving quality care, always for free thanks to The Denan Project’s support.

Some of the images of the people that I saw during my trip will remain with me always.  While accompanying a doctor on his rounds one morning, we came upon a mother holding a small child’s hand and caressing his head.  He looked to be about 4 years old.  But when we asked his age, the doctor told us to our shock that he was 10 years old, and suffering from acute malnutrition.  His mother had brought him all the way across the desert by donkey cart from their village of Harerey, some 250 kilometers away. With IV feeds and the special “Plumpy’Nut” food supplement developed specially to combat African malnutrition, he had a chance of survival. His case, sadly, was all too common and I saw many other children who looked far too thin, or young for their age.  The Denan Project has done so much good in this area, but there is so much more that could still be done, so many more children and people to help.

The poverty is evident everywhere, especially in the clothes the children wear — dusty, some torn t-shirts, flip-flop shoes worn thin.  One little girl had only a skirt, settled around her neck like a poncho.  The women and children spend hours each day walking to the dried up river bed to fetch water from the deep wells that have been dug in the sand there.  The young teenagers use strong rope with a bucket to bring up the water. The women, with many children in tow, carry the plastic, gallon water containers back to their homes.  If they’re fortunate, they’ll have a donkey to help them carry the containers. The water is not free of bacteria and many get sick from drinking it but there is no other choice. In the few short weeks since our visit, the wells in the dry riverbed have completely dried up and now the only source of potable water for the area is our watertanker. We are grateful that recent repairs have put our tanker in working condition, but we worry that it will soon not meet the needs of the community.

Our hospital in Denan is like an oasis in this land of poverty and high temperatures.  It was very, very hot!   Patients come for health care and receive loving attention.  They receive two meals a day and are given vitamins. There is also a learning center that gives information on nutrition and good health habits.  We encourage the women to come to the clinic to give birth and also for pre-natal care. In fact, we just received an award from the government recognizing the excellence of our program to encourage women to give birth at our medical facility rather than at home. One woman we saw had been on the way to the hospital but did not make it in time — she gave birth in the bush and unfortunately the placenta did not come out. She was taken by donkey to our hospital to save her life and remove the placenta.  Happily, she was resting well with her infant beside her.

In addition to our medical outreach, The Denan Project also provides micro-loans to various groups in Denan. While we were there, we met with all the micro-loan groups and were pleased to hear they were all doing very well and on schedule to re-pay their loans.  Most of them have shoats (sheep and goats). One of the women’s groups is also buying and selling fabric and doing well with it.

At the end of our visit we met all the staff together.  Some told us that because of their steady jobs at the hospital and their profits from their micro-loan group, they have been able to upgrade their homes, sometimes gaining even a slightly bigger house or the ability to put up a tin roof.  Their neighbors, who are beginning to see their success, in turn want to better their own lives, and this is starting to create more ambition in some of the townspeople as well.  It was so gratifying to see how The Denan Health Center is empowering people to do more for a better life for themselves and their country-men!

My time in Denan made me thankful for the gifts I’ve been given and my life in the USA where I can turn on a faucet and have clean water, a warm (or cool) home, food in my refrigerator/pantry and quality health care.  I’m also grateful that I’m able to share my good fortune and help people across the globe, through The Denan Project organization, to make their lives better as well. I hope perhaps that those of you reading this might also be inspired to support this organization, which, with your help, could do even more to help those in real need.

Note: since the time of this visit, conditions in Denan have indeed become more dire, with the drought that has been affecting other regions in the country creating real problems for the area’s food and water supply.  We are monitoring this situation carefully and talking daily with our on-the-ground partners. It is likely that The Denan Project may need to step in with emergency funding in the not-too-distant future.

Visit to Denan, February 2016

Blog_Jarret_Denan_Feb2016
By Jarret Schecter, Board Member & Volunteer

I’ve been to Denan many times since my first visit in April 2004, when we first talked about starting an organization to help people of the region. On this trip, like the ones before, I am once again jarred from my usual day-to-day automatic pilot. It’s a very beneficial experience on many levels. Automatic pilot, or automaticity, is not always a bad thing. It’s a way of putting order into life’s chaos. But in a negative sense, it reinforces inertia and detracts from mindfulness and gratitude. My trips to Denan remind me of this, each time.

Cognitively-speaking, when I am in Denan, I am more grateful for the gift of life that have I have been given. Moreover, I realize that there is reason (if acted upon) for much hope in the world, when you can see that so little can go so far. For example, for just a few dollars, a life can be saved with medicines, a rehydration tablet, emergency food supply or a doctor’s care. It is jarring to realize that my typical lunch back home of a slice of pizza and drink costs more then that.

Physiologically, life here also jars me in a very positive way from my usual unreflective habits. In the hundred plus degree-heat in desert conditions, I am hungry, thirsty, and without a shower for a couple of days, I feel tired and somewhat uncomfortable. However, the afternoon siestas with their beautiful rhythm put neuroses in their proper place, and watching the stars light up the night sky while sleeping on the ground in the open-air compound makes the trip all worthwhile. Later in the night, this lovely stillness is magnificently punctuated by animal sounds and a call to prayer that in its own contextual way, elegantly and thankfully ushers in a new day.

Awoken from automaticity my trips to Denan make me appreciate the real and the potential in life.

Visit to Navajo Reservation, Chinle, Arizona

By Richard Wool, Board Member & Volunteer

I recently took a trip to visit The Denan Project’s new venture with the Johns Hopkins Center for American Indian Health on the Navajo Reservation in Chinle, Arizona. We are supporting the Center’s highly innovative Family Spirit program by providing training to tribal public health workers. In home visits, these professionals advise and counsel families, particularly new and expecting mothers, on a variety of subjects, including pre and post-natal care, parenting skills, avoiding pitfalls in child rearing, sound nutrition and diabetes prevention.  Along with fellow Board member Jarret Schecter, I observed two-days of the training program and left with the distinct impression that the “students” were highly motivated, had an excellent grasp of the curriculum and were anxious to start bringing what they have learned and practiced into the community. There is no doubt in my mind that TDP’s “investment” in this worthy program is going to pay meaningful dividends.

By Jarret Schecter, Vice President and Board Member

In December 2015, fellow Board member Richard Wool and I visited the Navajo Reservation in Chinle, Arizona and witnessed first-hand the training program for the expanded Family Spirit program, to which The Denan Project began contributing earlier this year. This is our organization’s first work within the United States, and I am very proud that our efforts are now also helping those within our own borders.

I knew, of course the statistics — 52% of the people are below the poverty line in the Chinle community on the Navajo nation in Northern Arizona. Being there in person, however, made me think more about the links between these statistics, related problems, and the people. Poverty has an ensnaring relationship with all kinds of other pernicious issues — higher than average rates of domestic violence, substance abuse, teen high school dropout rates, and poor health, such as diabetes.

Breaking the cycle of poverty needs to start at the earliest age possible. The Family Spirit program, which focuses on education and health for new mothers and their children, works preemptively through primary preventative education. The program thus helps to improve and enrich individual lives and families, saves in future health care expenses and provides gratifying work options to those who help others. In my view, the money The Denan Project invests today will go a very long way to preventing high and escalating future costs; both human and other.

Why Don’t I Want a Birthday Present?

By Renee Cayer, Volunteer

Since I was a child, I have been receiving birthday gifts from people I have never met, who live in a country I may never visit, yet who have given me something I will use for a lifetime. When I was nine, my mother read an article to me from the newspaper which described the non-profit organization, THE DENAN PROJECT. It was looking for donations to help run a medical clinic in a severely drought-ridden area of Ethiopia. It described how people had walked for up to ten days in order to get health care, at times burying their sick and starving children along the way. Medical aid there was virtually non-existent. Temperatures daily soared well above 110 degrees, which made for the most unbearable conditions in all of Africa.

As she was reading, I noticed a picture of a Denan girl next to the article. She looked about my age, which frightened me immensely. NOT ALL GIRLS ARE LIKE ME? Without letting her finish, I ran upstairs to my room and grabbed my allowance money I had been saving for an American Girl doll. I handed the money to my mother asking “Can you send this money to that organization? I do not need another doll. THEY NEED THE MONEY MORE THAN I DO.” From that moment it hit me that I could make a difference in peoples’ lives, a small difference, but still an incredible one.

When my friends would ask, “Renee, why don’t you want a birthday present? I thought you wanted clothes for an American Girl doll?!!” I would always respond with the simple answer: “Because children need medicine. For one hundred dollars the clinic stays open for one day.” Just knowing that my money is making a difference in peoples’ lives still makes me tear up to this day.

Why do I still collect money for Denan in lieu of birthday gifts? Simply, it gives me joy. Words cannot express the feeling I have when I send them hope. There is just something about that feeling that has become a part of me. It inspires me to do more, and drives me to ask how I can keep making a difference. The haunting image of the dying young girl with crusty eyes and flies on her face has stuck in my mind since I have been nine. I will never know for sure what impact my two thousand dollars has made, but even if I have changed the life of one child, it was money well spent. As most people see my donations as a gift to the people of Ethiopia, I see it as a birthday gift from them.

Back in Uratari, Peru

By Rick Berman, Volunteer

It’s been less than three years since Liz and I visited Uratari.  What a fabulous surprise we were in for when we returned with Dick, and Jarret this May.  The new ultrasound machine and ambulance were just the icing on the cake.  The tiny, roofless, partially-built clinic had turned into a thriving little hospital, complete with a doctor, nurses, a dentist, pharmacist, lab technician, and most importantly, patients filled with hope.

The celebration of the local officials was also joyous, (we even got gold medals). But the recognition really deserves to be directed toward Dick and his colleagues.  For Liz and me, the satisfaction of knowing that we are involved in a small way, was celebration enough.

After meetings with Herben Alvarez, the mayor of Limatambo (a terrific guy), we visited an amazingly modern pre-school, which is a prototype for the one planned for Uratari. We then saw the medical outreach program thriving in Pivil. In the ancient church, the doctor performed ophthalmology exams, while the dentist was at work nearby. The micro-loan beekeepers were proudly showing off their new projects, as were the guinea pig farmers back in Uratari the day before. On our way home that evening, we scouted a possible location for a future trout farm.

We were again honored to be invited to the baptism of the Mayor’s son; a beautiful ceremony in a 16th century church, followed by a four-hour party. Every step of the way, day after day, we were accompanied by our amazing partners from Tengo un Sueno; Salvador, Coti and Lourdes Herencia.

Driving through the magnificent countryside each day, we couldn’t help but feel enormous pride in bringing medical assistance and commerce to people who, by circumstance, live far more difficult lives than we do.  We look forward to our continuing support, and especially our next visit to Peru.

Blossoming of Bougainvillea…8 Years in the Making

Ethiopia_2012_flowers

by Jean Shin, Volunteer

Traveling light is something I know a few things about—or so I thought. Repacking my backpack in Addis Ababa for my 2nd attempt to enter Denan, I had to pause and think what I really need on a daily basis. Sticking to my strict rule of whatever-doesn’t-fit-into-this-one-bag-comes-out, I was able to hop onto the plane with a light carry-on—and huge anticipation.

Looking down on the changing landscape, from lush high mountains to arid terrain, I could sense that we are getting closer to the lowland of Ogadan, the ethnic Somali region of Ethiopia. Seeing the excited face of Dick Young, the Founder of The Denan Project, as we flew over the Project’s horseshoe-shaped hospital compound that’s clearly visible from above , I knew there awaits something special, something that came to be…against all odds.

The ride to Denan after switching from plane to car in Gode kicked off with a roadblock. My heart sank when our two vehicles were stopped by the army, and we were asked to wait until the following day. Half-heartily refusing to accept that I’m the curse (as I wasn’t able to enter the area in 2009 due to rebel activities in the region), I felt so relived when we were able to zip through the gate the following morning. With Denan still 90 minutes away—and our ambulance convoy out of sight, Dick had asked Mukhtar Adem (Head of our local partner OWDA) to stop the car to get closer look at one of the refuge camps that weren’t there when he passed by 3 months ago. As the people (mostly all women except one man and children) gathered around us, I started to crisscross the camp not knowing where to fix my eyes at…hundreds of temporary huts (only about 4 ft high, not even big enough for me to stand up in) with no trace of food or water. As we learned that these are the people who lost everything, including their livestock, to the rain/flood that followed the disastrous, record-breaking drought of the last season, I couldn’t help but feeling the wicked hands of the mother nature.  As we are leaving them, following Mukthar’s advice not to send our water truck and Plumpy’Nut to them as our resources are committed to the people of Denan, and there seems to be a UNICEF medical vehicle visiting them on a weekly basis, I was beginning to feel the weight of the decisions we make…and the responsibilities of having the choices to make.

Being a day late (with no way to communicate the delay to the hospital), our arrival was met without the jovial excitement I often saw in previous reports, much to my relief. Then there was…a sight that even Dick had never seen before: bright colors of bougainvillea and green leaves hugging the dusty, brown walls of the compound! When we later learned that one of the Elders had donated the seeds (quite pricey in that part of the world) and planted the greens without even being asked, I could sense that things have turned the corner…and began to come to its fruition, quite dramatically.

The marathon of meetings that followed our lunch (yes, they killed a goat for us) was nothing short of eye-opening for me. On a personal level, my biggest concern up to that point was the possibility of not being able to communicate with them in the usual way I connect with people (trying to understand their intent, and the reasoning behind what they are saying). It took only a few minutes into our meeting with the disabled group (who paid back their micro loan ahead of schedule and saved their profits) for me to realize how silly I was to expect anything other than a real dialogue, a fully articulated exchange of thoughts and sentiments dotted with a sense of humor that’s universal in English and Somali! Detecting the same connection and warmth on all the faces I was greeted with, including the hospital staff of 40 men and women (who voluntarily put aside 2% of their salary to fund expenses for transporting patients they cannot treat in our hospital), I felt the close proximity to what surrounds us…the basic necessities of living with what surrounds us…and the desire and will to go beyond the limits of what surrounds us.

Being awake at 4AM listening to the ever-so-vocal donkeys, and counting the countless stars directly above me, I waited for the sun to come up to my right with sleep-deprived-yet-invigorated eyes. The same rhythm of the morning, but never a same day: accompanying the doctor during his morning rounds and seeing mothers with mal- nourished babies; surveying an abandoned health facility in nearby Burqayer for possible expansion; walking to the riverbed to catch up with the women and children of Denan who make the trip twice a day to fetch water; sitting with the Elders trying to work out a financial arrangement for the use of the tractor, and so on.

Among all those unique encounters, there is one thing that compelled me to raise my hand for an immediate action. Having canceled the water pipeline inspection schedule due to rebel sighting in the area, we went over to the school where the project has been providing supplemental financial help for hiring and training qualified teachers. Having seen pictures of empty classrooms with no desks and chairs, I was glad to see students sitting on their chairs and listening to the teacher. But as I was walking around the school, my heart was getting heavier. From the corner of my eye, I see military personnel with guns walking around, and the skinniest cows I’ve ever seen chewing paper on the ground having nothing else to eat. Clearly not the kind of educational environment I’ve known. And when I realized that there is only one textbook per class—and it belongs to the teacher, I just couldn’t contain myself. I didn’t know where else the kids can escape to in that environment if not to books! In my attempt to move the issue to a priority list, I’ve asked Mukhtar how his kids in the city get textbooks. His answer: I bought them for them. A failure of the state education bureaucracy, yes. But the kids need the books now, not later, right now…my murmuring continues as I’m still waiting for the cost of the textbooks to come from OWDA.

With my dusty backpack on my shoulder, and my dustier hair itching my skull, I hopped onto the plane to Addis. Only then I realized the contents of my backpack. 2/3 of what I thought was essential for my daily living were lifeless, needing batteries to be recharged. I almost forgot about them. I didn’t really need them after all. I was unplugged. And that was A-OK. I know the kids in Denan want them—they told me so in no uncertain terms. It’s their turn to play with being plugged in…Now they are ready like the bougainvillea that opened up against all odds.

Seeing the Denan Project After My Long Years at the UN

By Richard Gordon, Volunteer

In late October-early November, I accompanied Dick Young to Peru in the context of the DENAN PROJECT. The mission consisted of meetings, discussions, and ceremonies in Limatambo, the district capital, and in Uratari, where the project is based.

At the outset, I should say that I worked for the United Nations for twenty-seven years primarily doing project work in developing countries in the field of integrated rural development, a multi-disciplinary approach to confronting poverty in rural areas in such fields as health, education, water resources, agricultural development, and small-scale income-generating activities. Because of this experience, I could quickly relate to and understand the nature and activities of the Uratari project, including such important factors as the need for collaboration with and support of national, regional, and local government officials; the difficulty of recruiting qualified professional staff to live and work in remote areas; the involvement of the local community in developing and advancing the critical work of the project; and the necessity of ensuring the timely delivery of inputs.

The Uratari project has five principal components or objectives for eventual implementation: 1) health; 2) education; 3) agriculture; 4) water resources; and 5) economic development. With the understanding that the most critical need in the Uratari region was the provision of medical services which were nonexistent before the arrival of The Denan Project, the parties concerned, namely The Denan Project; Tengo Un Sueno, the local NGO which partners with Denan, the villagers in Uratari, and the national and local governments agreed that the most urgent objective was to provide a health center in Uratari staffed with professional doctors and dentists and with modern medical equipment. This health center would serve an outlying community of 23 villages in the region. The villagers in Uratari agreed to provide local labor and resources to build the health center on their own without outside assistance. The health center was accordingly built by the village and it has been progressively staffed and financed by The Denan Project. When we arrived in Uratari, the first thing that we saw was the gleaming white health center building which is functioning very efficiently as a medical service for villagers in Uratari and far beyond who come to the center for medical treatment, both actual and preventive, at no cost to themselves. Dick Young and his counterparts in Tengo Un Sueno and local government officials walked through and did a complete observation of the health center, discussing relevant matters with the medical staff, resolving some issues related to the delivery on inputs (such as the provision of a solar panel, solar heater, and a new ambulance from abroad), and pointing out a number of small problems in the building infrastructure for resolution and repair.   There was a ceremony to inaugurate a new pre-school in Uratari, attended by the Mayor of Limatambo and other local government officials. A new high school is also being constructed by the villagers. There was discussion of the eventual provision of irrigation for agricultural development in Uratari and the surrounding region. The villagers themselves, through speeches at the ceremony, as well as in conversations with the visitors, seemed both grateful and excited about the health center (we were informed that in a recent month, 800 individuals had come for treatment to the health center from both Uratari and outlying villages) and other eventual project inputs. It is evident that the creation of the health center by The Denan Project is serving as a catalyst for other critical needs of Uratari and the local community.

I mentioned above that I spent a long period of time with the United Nations working on socio-economic development projects in developing countries. In my long experience with the U.N., I have rarely, if ever, seen a more effective project than The Denan Project in Uratari. In considering the reasons for this, I have identified the following factors as instrumental in making this project so successful:

  • Dick Young, who initiated The Denan Project in a remote area of Ethiopia and then expanded the Project to Burkino Fasso, Peru, and recently to Mongolia, has mobilized a set of donors, Board members, and Committee members of highly dedicated individuals who commit their time and resources on a long-term basis to ensure that the Project will accomplish its objectives.
  • Dick goes 3-4 times a year to each project site to monitor, evaluate, and propose solutions to existing problems. This constitutes a continual and valuable empirical oversight for Utarari and the other venues.
  • Dick has managed to partner with well-established and highly effective local NGOs. In the case of Uratari, the partner is Tengo Un Sueno, run by a former UNICEF staff member who knows the developing world and particularly South America exceedingly well. Dick has also managed to establish strong working relations with both national and local government officials who participate and are intimately involved with all aspects of the project. In Peru, for example, the mayor of Limatambo and many of his staff continually visit the project and provide inputs and assistance.
  • In Uratari, as well as in elsewhere, the recipients, namely the villagers, are aware of the immediate benefits of the project for themselves (medical assistance initially) and are willing to participate in essential local tasks. In Uratari, as noted, local labor was provided gratis to build the health center and maintain it.
  • The philosophy of providing medical services gratis, at no cost to the villagers, which permits the poorest of the poor to take advantage of the health center in Uratari.
  • Dick’s philosophy in relation to the issue of ‘sustainability.’ In the UN system, as well as in bilateral aid (USAID, Canadian, or French assistance, for instance), projects are funded and implemented for a defined period of time (3-5 years, for example). There may be a project extension, but often not. A project extension has a limited time basis. Once the project is “completed,” the UN or the bilateral agency pulls out, leaving the national and particularly the local government to ‘sustain,’ often meaning ‘maintain’ the project to ensure that its accomplishments will not lapse or be frittered away. However, in most cases, because of financial and political factors, the project work slows down or even ceases altogether, primarily because the local government does not have the financial means or human resources to ‘sustain’ the initial success of the project. Dick Young’s philosophy, however, is entirely different. He has committed The Denan Project to stay in Denan, Ethiopia and in Uratari, Peru, for a period of 15-20 years. This long time horizon ensures that the immediate benefits of the project (health, education, and water in Denan, and medical services in Uratari) will be sustainable. This approach, of course, puts pressure upon The Denan Project to finance Denan, Uratari, and the other venues year after year, but it ensures the ‘sustainability,’ as well as the success of the efforts of The Denan Project for the long term.

The Ascending Path to the Uratari Medical Center

Uratari_Janet_0411By Jean Shin, Volunteer

It has already been over a week since I last held Janet’s hand saying good-bye, and watched the kids of Uratari disappear in the rearview mirror of the van coming back to Cusco—for my slow return to New York. But I can’t seem to be sufficiently afar enough to articulate my impressions of the magical place called the Uratari Medical Center. Perhaps it’s the overwhelming warmth of the numerous hands and cheeks they greeted me with, or maybe it was the breathtaking, lush landscape of the Andes after a long rainy season…no, above all, to my greatest surprise, it was the sight of bricks and mortar: a shining white building with an even shinier blue fence and door!

Having had the opportunity to hear an overview about the place from the founder of The Denan Project (TDP) Dick Young, and the local partners at Salgalu (Salvador, Clotilde, and Lourdes), and to see some pictures of the Center’s progress, I thought I had a pretty good idea what to expect. Little did I know…

The experience started to stir up my emotions even before I set foot into the Center. Taken by the breathtaking landscape above and beneath the ever-ascending path to Uratari (13,300 ft above the sea level), I almost missed the lone Quechua woman walking up the road. When the driver (the vice mayor of Limatambo) told us that she is walking to the Center, I turned around to see her—and saw what drives the volunteers of TDP. A woman in traditional Quechua garments and sandals taking brisk steps forward to reach the Center where she can (probably for the first time in her life) receive answers to her nagging health problems in her native tongue, and get the cares she needs—and even see a dentist for the first time—all free of charge.

Upon arrival at the Center, I was amazed by the sheer size and warmth of the reception from the village people, the medical staff, and the local municipal staff. And when I caught sight of the Center, I was completely awed. It seemed decidedly new and different from the mudbrick, rundown houses surrounding it. The Center stood like a shining beacon of promises kept—even exceeded. A functioning medical center with a maternity ward, a dental office, a pharmacy/lab, in-patient rooms, a kitchen, and a work-in-progress garden for medicinal plants…all built, brick by brick, by the people of Uratari with the materials provided by the TDP. Tight hand-shakes and embraces paced my movements as I navigated through the facility with awe. As I was overhearing how the community wanted to surprise Dick by putting the fence up ahead of the schedule, my heart melted with the realization that this place is so perfectly ready to create a better future.

Even with the excitements of the festivity of the 1st day still potent in my senses (my taste buds included), I couldn’t help but notice the challenges still ahead for the Center to provide higher quality of service for a greater number of people—and ultimately expand into all aspects of the five-finger approach of TDP (Health, Education, Water, Agriculture/Food, Cottage Industries). Listening at Dick’s meetings with the medical staff (the Head Doctor, Dentist, Nurses, and Cleaner, who are all hired locally and paid by TDP), the local partner Salgalu, and the mayor of the Limatambo (with jurisdiction over Uratari) for the following days, my heart became full of optimism. A sense of shared mission was apparent in every aspect: the community’s willingness to build a house for a villager who has given his house to the Center for its plans to build a preschool and a guest house; the mayor’s commitment to explore all means to secure an ambulance; the team’s plan to build a footbridge over the Apurimac River to help the neighbors reach the Center; etc.

Walking around the Center during its “normal” day, I found myself uttering a cliché: If you build it, they will come. Come, they did. A pregnant woman who just saw a sonogram for the first time; a shy boy who just sat on a dental chair for the first time; an ancient-looking woman who just found out how old she was (some of the Quechua-speaking people can’t read their own ID cards which are written in Spanish); a long line of men, women, and kids (many with their dogs) waiting patiently to register and see the doctor; dozens of school boys and men lined up in the front yard to receive a haircut by beauticians that came from Limatambo; and many more. Everywhere I turned, I could feel something real, something very tangible happening. All with such warmth and care.

Leaving Uratari, even with a plan of my return, wasn’t easy. I walked around once more with my hands stretched out hoping that Janet (who wasn’t sure of her own age, and was too shy to tell me her name until I had to get it from her friend) would show up and hold my hand as she did on the first day I met her. But no sight of her this time. Then there she was, walking right up to the van just before we drove away…Sitting in the van with my lap covered with the beautiful, hand-woven blanket I received from the Uratari women as a parting gift, I could see the threads that connect us all—all in bright colors and brilliant harmony.