Milkshakes in the African desert.

• Author: Thomas, Stryk
• Position: Criticism of the Agency for International Development

...and other absurdities brought to you by the Agency for International Development's multi-million dollar consulting game. A former staffer reports

I knew I had arrived as a high-powered consultant in Africa when I was assigned a chauffeur and a gleaming white Toyota Land Cruiser. True, I was bought on the cheap--just an ex-Peace Corps volunteer who was picked up for his knowledge of the local language and culture. Also true, my motor-powered prestige belonged to the Agency for International Development (AID), and would only last until I was dropped off in a village. Nevertheless, I sensed I had entered an utterly new realm.

I started working for AID in Niger, the West African country where I'd just finished serving in the Peace Corps. The agency was planning a multi-million dollar program to prepare Niger to deal with future droughts and other disasters. My job was to study traditional perceptions of natural disasters and village coping strategies. The idea was to learn how villagers already dealt with such catastrophes, and to determine what sorts of projects AID could implement which would not compete with time-honored methods. Using someone who'd just spent two years in a village, as opposed to flying in a "food security specialist" from Washington or Paris, seemed a logical and efficient means to achieve a noble goal.

One of my first lessons at the agency was that although hiring me saved money--by avoiding travel and hotel costs, as well as the pricey salaries of more established professionals--the desire to conserve American taxpayer dollars was not why I got the job. I was classified as a "local hire," which meant far less paperwork to bring me on board, and payment for my services could be handled with few authorizations. Still, I knew enough to realize that international development was a business, after all, and was satisfied with the prospect of an interesting experience.

Niger's AID mission is adjacent to the U.S. Embassy. When I first entered the building, I realized AID's offices were its own worst enemy. After two years living in the African bush, I suddenly learned what "culture shock" really means. I was stunned to discover that the mission was a perfect recreation of an American office, from the gray cubicles to the American Standard toilets. Air conditioners hummed and Niger's barren landscape was barely visible beyond the irrigated lawns and the steel-reinforced gates of the compound.

A week after my arrival, I learned that my superiors had become concerned about the costs of my research. I originally had six months to carry out the study, barely enough time to do my work with any kind of accuracy. Suddenly, I had only three weeks.

"We need to get this done," I was told, "so we can go ahead with the projects." I was young and eager, so I avoided asking the first question which came to mind: If they already knew what projects they were going to do, why had they hired me to find out which ones would be appropriate?

My research turned into a track meet, trying to beat the deadline...