Alcoholism, Sexaholism, Workaholism and Radical Kindness

About a month ago I was on the bus coming home from a friend's party when I decided to pull up facebook on my phone to pass the time. I wasn't ready for the first post that appeared on my feed. It was a eulogy from one of my Bukavu friends about our mutual friend Inge Kool. 

Inge was one of a small handful of long-term expats living in Bukavu. She worked as an Assistant Director with the Panzi Hospital which provides medical, psycho-social and legal support to victims of sexual and gender based violence, which has been one of the most noted components of ongoing violence in the DRC. She was a kind and compassionate person who always had time to help other people. I always enjoyed meeting her at Wendy's for weekly drinks during my fieldwork and I was excited to see her again when I visited Bukavu in September. 

Since her death I've been reflecting on a number of things that she said to me over the last two years. Most notably in a New Year's message last year after wishing me well she told me that she had been reading my blog. She said that she had been thinking about my comment that almost all of the expats that I met in Bukavu were "alcoholics, sexaholics, workaholics or some combination of the three" and that it encouraged her to re-examine her priorities and strive for more balance in her life. The funny thing was that I had always considered her to be one of the exceptions to that rule. 

Upon reflection, I've decided to amend my blanket statement about expats in Bukavu. While many humanitarians do struggle to find balance in their jobs and lives, trying to respond to demands from head offices, navigate persistent insecurity and respond to the needs of populations in crisis through the three outlets I described above, the other common factor which often defines them is kindness. For one must be radically kind to give up their comfort in order to support deeply traumatized populations and bare the risks of living amidst protracted crises. 

Perhaps we can all find ways to practice radical kindness in our own lives. 

Peace. 

A link to my original post: http://nonsequiturk.blogspot.ca/2016/07/all-of-things-i-havent-told-you-about.html

What I Learned About Public Health in the Eastern DRC

Dear Blog Followers,

I did not keep my promise to you and write timely posts about my trip to the DRC. Life got busy. I also decided to take a different approach in what I'm going to post, presenting what I learned during my trip. So today I'm starting with Public Health. Eventually I also hope to write to you about the DRC, my Doctoral Research AND myself. 

As a refresher I was in the DRC working on a review of humanitarian assistance between 2006 and 2016. If this post troubles you I invite you to consider donating to MSF (specifically to their hospital in Masisi) or to Heal Africa in Goma. 

http://www.msf.ca/en/donate-now

http://www.healafrica.org/donate_to

My initial role on the review team was as the Public Health Expert, although methodological lead was later added to the list of my responsibilities. I was invited to fill this role not because of my extensive education in Public Health but because of my general experience around public health policy including the social indicators of health and helping to run the health clinic at KW Reception House. Fortunately, the review didn’t require any knowledge of the biological and epidemiological components of public health because then we would have been in trouble.

As the Public Health Expert on the team it was my job to interview individuals engaged in public health work. This included local chief medical doctors, nurses, nutritionists, project coordinators for international NGO’s and sometimes their heads of missions. I also visited numerous health centres and hospitals, camps for internally displaced people and NGOs. It was extremely eye opening.

Over at least the last 15 years most of the health centres and hospitals have been run with the support of international health partners. They are often operated by local doctors and nurses but their programs and access to medicines are funded by international partners. As a result of this support, they have been able to offer free medical assistance and medications to the local population in part and in whole. However, recently because of donor fatigue and the redirection of funds to new crises such as South Sudan many international health organisations have reduced or completely cut their assistance to health sectors across Ituri, North and South Kivu where the local population is now being asked to pay for medical assistance. This worried many of the local health care practitioners who I spoke with who indicated that much of the local population could not afford to pay the nominal fees that they were now being charged by the health centres and hospitals. This is particularly concerning because the primary causes of death in the region (malaria, respiratory infections, cholera and TB) are highly contagious but treatable illnesses. Lack of access to treatment could easily lead to the spread and possibly epidemics of these diseases resulting in a significant increase in mortality, particularly among vulnerable people including children and IDPs.

I also observed the conditions at the medical centres and hospitals. There were two examples of best practices. The first was the hospital in Masisi which we visited at the beginning of the trip. The hospital is funded by MSF and has extensive wards for malnutrition, trauma, maternity and pediatric care, it also has a well stocked pharmacy. All treatment delivered at the Masisi hospital is free. Unfortunately, the week we visited the malnutrition ward in the hospital was over flowing because desperately needed food aid wasn’t reaching its recipients because of corruption in the supply chain. The other strong example was the Heal Africa hospital in Goma. Like, the Panzi hospital in South Kivu where I visited in 2016, the Heal Africa treats and supports victims of sexual and gender based violence. The hospital is extensive and offers both medical and social services to its patients.

These two hospitals were very much the exception to what I saw. The most troubling cases I visited were health centres in Ituri, both which had recently lost funding. When I asked for a tour of the first health centre near Komanda I was shocked to see that the birthing room consisted of an examination table with a hole cut into it and a basin underneath it to catch the baby. The room was so dark, damp and dirty, I couldn’t imagine how giving birth in such a place could reduce maternal or infant mortality (although it apparently does, at least according to the statistics on their wall). The second health centre I visited in Mangiva was in much better condition and seemed to have more services available. However, that health centre had been attacked and raided by militants three times in the past three years and during the last attack the head of the centre, a young father, was briefly taken hostage.

Mangiva Health Centre

I also learned quite a bit how different diseases and socio-economic conditions can interact with each other to exacerbate existing conditions and contribute to elevated mortality. For example, someone who is chronically malnourished is more likely to die as a result of a cholera infection. People living in under-supported long-term IDP camps, without proper sanitation structures such as the one in Kalite in the Masisi territory are very likely to be affected by both. Further, when people flee fighting and war in the Eastern DRC, they also spend days and weeks hiding in forests, or walking to seek safety, where they are at much higher risk of being exposed to Malaria. Sub-standard living conditions and nutrition can also increase susceptibility to respiratory infections, as can HIV infections which is spread by the scourge of sexual and gender-based violence.

I was also exposed the complexity of sexual and gender based health in the DRC. While I was there I spoke with a counsellor at a counselling centre for victims of sexual and gender based violence who didn’t know that she could use condoms to prevent unwanted pregnancies. I also met a priest who was prepared to distribute condoms to his parishioners in order to prevent malnutrition cases being caused by women conceiving too soon after giving birth (I gave him $20 to buy condoms). Finally I learned that, an well-known international health NGO has started offering free abortions to women who need them, despite the fact that abortions are illegal in the DRC.

When I was in the first year of my Ph.D. I read an article by Marriage (2013) which argued that international health NGOs should stop providing free health care in the DRC because they were duplicating state services and preventing the government from taking full responsibility for the sector. The Congolese government is not taking responsibility for the health sector (or most other sectors) and the local population cannot afford to pay the fees associated with medical treatment in the East. Another example of this was an HIV/AIDS advocate who shared with me that while the government provides free Anti-retroviral treatment for AIDS patients they don’t cover the cost of medication for opportunistic infections which could kill them and be spread to other parts of the population. Many people in the East with HIV/AIDS are too sick or stigmatized to work and so obviously can’t afford these medications.

To conclude, a full pull-out by international medical organisations would result in an overwhelming health crisis, which is already reflected in recent cholera outbreaks which have occurred across the East. More money needs to be directed back into the DRC to ensure that the most vulnerable people continue to have access to urgently needed medical care. 

Sad Goodbyes at the Goma Airport

I've cried in a lot of airports around the world. Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, Halifax, Amsterdam and especially Johannesburg, but nothing prepared me to be holding back tears at the Goma airport. If you had told me a week before I left that it was going to happen, I'm not sure that I would have believed you. 

I was in the DRC participating in a review of humanitarian assistance between 2006 and 2016. The review was undertaken at the request of a UN body and I was hired to work as a public health expert for the review. Methodological lead was later added as my second title later in the contract after the team leave left and I narrowly skirted becoming fully responsible for the project a week before we were set to arrive. Being the methodological lead often left me in the difficult role of the intermediary between the firm who wanted the project undertaken in a specific way, and the team on the ground who knew that it would never go exactly as planned. 

Interestingly, this is the exact intermediary role that I've documented among local civil society organisations and other actors who need to negotiate between the needs of the local population and the desires of international donors who want to address those specific needs. Let me tell you, this isn't an easy spot to be in. 

Yet, as I've been sharing stories with my friends and family since I've arrived back in Ottawa it has become clear to me that I realistically lived two stories during this trip. One where I was pushed to the brink, wondering whether I should stay or walk away from a poorly designed project with a lack of institutional support that was unlikely to yield robust academic results The second where I got to travel across a region that I've studied extensively working on an important, if ill-conceived project, making new friends and learning to disregard the hurt feelings and pangs of regret prompted by the first. 

In the end  I was holding back tears at the Goma airport because I was saying goodbye to even more friends than I arrived with. I was saying goodbye to a team who I fought with and for who, despite everything we had been through, genuinely cared for each other. I was also saying goodbye to new friends who I shared drinks, stories, runs and tears with in three provinces. Lastly, I was also saying goodbye to friends from Bukavu for a second time who I so relished having the opportunity to meet again. Indeed, there was something almost joyful about having something to cry about on my departure. 

So over the next few weeks I'm going to share four more blog posts: one about each of the three provinces I visited and a final post exploring some of the things I learned on this trip. These posts will be divided between the story of the firm and the story of what it actually meant for me to be there. 

Names will be changed to protect myself and the unwitting participants in these stories. 

Error: This is not the Protester That You're Looking For

On Saturday an estimated 1 to 4 million women marched globally for gender equality in the face of a new hegemonic world leader who has openly showed disdain for women in his statements. Yesterday one of Trump's first acts as president was to re-instate out-dated abortion laws which put women's lives at risk both in the U.S. and globally and that undermine women's agency and autonomy over their own bodies. This is no surprise coming from someone who is now synonymous with the phrase "grab her by the pussy". 

Staring in the face of uncertain political and economic exclusion, the organizers and participants of the women's march are now facing criticism from both sides of the political spectrum. Before the global marches were even over, articles proclaiming that if the women's marchers did define a clear agenda that it would falter in the same way that the occupy movement had https://www.theguardian.com/world/2017/jan/19/womens-march-washington-occupy-protest. By Monday even Canada's (least) favorite female political pundit felt she needed to weigh in. Yes, Margaret Wente happily proclaimed, that there is no solidarity in the women's movement and that American women at least are as divided as ever. http://www.theglobeandmail.com/opinion/womens-solidarity-is-a-mirage/article33704854/ Margret Wente's positions are so predictable that it would probably be more cost-effective for the Globe and Mail to replace her with a robot. 

On the other side of the political spectrum I found many comments on social media outlets lamenting the heavy presence of white women at these protests, questioning whether these same women would be at the next Black Lives Matter protests and even questioning the audacity of women to participate in an event when gender and racial equality require daily resistance. 

I went to the women's march in Ottawa on Saturday and I was delighted to see my facebook feed full of pictures of other strong, empowered women who had done the same around the world. I don't feel that either of these critiques adequately capture the reality of the women who went to these marches and I'm going to tell you why. 

This was not my first women's march. I've also marched alongside women in the Democratic Republic of the Congo on International Women's Day fighting for gender equal businesses and public offices by 2030, and with women in Kasese in rural Western Uganda demanding an end to child marriage as part of a peace expo. I think it's also important to note that I've been to a Black Live's Matter protest and that I've eagerly participated in indigenous solidarity events. 

Marching is also not my only act of resistance. In 2007 I made a wish to keep Canada pro-choice in the face of another wish to end abortion in Canada as part of the Great Canadian Wishlist in which the CBC invited Canadians to make a wish for Canada's 140th Birthday and had people vote for their favorite wish. I've also published a policy review outlining gaps in Canada's gender policy in Fragile and Conflict Affected States. I've also had the opportunity to support the engagement of white women and women of colour through my work and to be honest, gender equality and women's rights are my primary focus, so I feel even more strongly for the women who organize within the movement who are facing harsh critique.

More importantly almost all of the women who I knew at the march have been involved in similar ways. Friends I saw included employees from the NDP with long protest histories, colleagues from local and international Non-Governmental Organizations, friends who I met at the Coady Institute's skills for social change program and University professors. These are not women who went home after the march to return to being passive housewives, these are women who already work for gender and racial equality everyday. 

In response to the need to have a "well-defined and set agenda" without which the march and the movement will become meaningless in the eyes of some analysts, I couldn't disagree more. Any third or fourth wave feminist should be able to tell you that gender discrimination and inequality impacts women differently across race, class, sexuality and (dis)ability lines. That's why at the march you saw a divergence of signs ranging from questions of sexual assault and access to re-productive rights to race and political freedom. In order to remain meaningful to a whopping 53% of the World's population the movement needs to capture a large spectrum of women's needs, including from different country contexts. It will be far more effective to have women continue to work on issues that are most urgent for them and to collaborate together to bring attention to those causes that are most important to them. This will also capture some of the concerns related to representation of Women of Colour within the movement.  

For those women who engaged for the first time this weekend, what a wonderful inclusive environment to march in for the first time. Now's the time to start thinking about how to continue to engage with equality in a way that interests and is sustainable for you. It is up to the more experienced and committed activists in the movement to introduce and entrench the importance of intersectionality and the participation of women of colour within the movement in order to present a representative and collaborative voice for women's issues in North America and around the World. 

2016 Part III: Gratitude for Getting By With A Little Help From My Friends

This is risky, publicly thanking people. I'm not going to use last names. I also don't want to exclude people so if you feel left out after reading this, message me and I'll fix it. 

During the turbulence of the last year I've had friends both new and old really make a difference and help me get through everything. I'm so thankful in general to have you in my life and for the things listed below.

I'm making an effort to going in chronological orders. 

Thank you:

Shannon and Lenny: For hosting me whenever I come to Halifax and particularly when I came last new years. You're so generous it's incredible. 

Alex Ke: For putting up with me as your room mate for more than two years and for being there for one on one hang outs and most of the group activities outlined below. 

Claire: For being my emergency contact person while I was away and for baring the responsibility for the sealed envelope. I'm always so very happy when we get to spend tme together. 

David and Lise: For proposing and letting me store most of my worldly possessions in your storage space while I was gone, and for accompanying me to the hospital when I cut my finger. I really enjoy the time we spend together still and in motion. 

The 12 people who helped me move things into David and Lise's storage area: Thanks again!

The people who came to my going away party and who wrote me letters to take on my trip: Thanks for the send-off and I promise I haven't forgotten to write you back!

Alex Ko: For being a stellar room mate and confidant in Bukavu. 

Karen D: For including me in ultimate Frisbee and sharing with me over tea. 

Sandra: For baking cakes with me and coming to visit me in Ottawa. 

Anja: For being my confidant, for offering me drives, sharing meals together and asking Reiner to listen to my cough. You'll always be my Bukavu Mom! 

Mom: For housing me in May, for coming to Ottawa during medical house arrest, for our trip to Kingston and for continuing to answer the phone despite my continued bad news. 

Karen C: For your life long friendship, for asking me to be your maid of honour and for keeping me company in Ottawa. 

Helena and JF: Thank you for letting me stay with you twice while I was re-establishing myself in Ottawa. It was a joy to spend time with you both watching Ms. Fisher and playing with your daughters. 

Brian S: For driving me and my things from Mississauga to Ottawa, helping me move, coming up for my Birthday and generally being wonderful!

Adam: For being part of the first moving group AND showing up to help me move into my new place after a hard day of work AND for hanging out with me while I was on in home isolation. I really appreciate that you put up with my teasing and hair ruffles. Your long term friendship has really meant a lot to me. 

Kyle: I'm pretty sure you're solely responsible for me not losing my mind this year. Thanks for your unwavering support and company. 

Jarz: For being there when I've needed you most and for bringing me the replacement flower pot and flower while I was on medical house arrest. 

Aunt Miriam: Thank you for helping me while I was on medical house arrest with meals, drives and groceries you greatly relieved my fears and were a wonderful source of support.

Nigel: For your phone calls and for our adventure in Rimouski!

Sara: Also for your phone calls and your visits to Ottawa. 

Everyone who visited me during medical house arrest: Thanks for taking the risk to come to see me. You ensured that I didn't lose my mind and remained properly fed. 

Mathilde: For being a great office mate and sharing in the struggle. 

Becca: For helping me pick up household furnishings, for letting me use your drill and for putting up with crabby summer Kirsten. 

Stephane: For being willing to eat ice cream with me when it counts.

Channing: For jumping head first into our friendship and reliably being there. 

My other friends in Guelph, KW, Toronto, Mississauga, Ottawa and Halifax who are ready to spend time together every time I arrive and who have taken the time to share encouraging words. 

 On the off and horrifying chance that they have found this blog I'd also like to express my gratitude to my current and my former supervisor. To my former supervisor for pushing me to write the best thesis possible and my new supervisor for being so supportive and sticking with me through this transition. 

Although most of them can't read in English I'm also so grateful to my research participants for sharing with me, learning with me and inspiring me.

2016 Part II: Silver Linings

Just because you had a really difficult year doesn't mean there were not any bright spots right? 

Here are some of the reasons that 2016 wasn't totally unbearable. 

In January of last year the night before I left on my trip I had a going away party in Ottawa and about 30 people came despite the fact that there was a snow storm which was pretty wonderful. On top of that about 20 people wrote me letters that I brought with me and read throughout my trip. Some of them were really funny, some contained beautiful art and others reminded me of close friendships. What a joy. 


There are some pretty amazing things to share about Bukavu too. Bukavu is naturally beautiful with trees, hills, flowers and a lake which is great when it's not exploding (which is like 99.999% of the time) (this isn't a joke, look up exploding lakes). The temperature was always perfect and I greatly enjoyed kayaking on Lake Kivu and playing ultimate frisbee over the weekends while most of you were suffering through a Canadian Winter. 



Being in Bukavu also let me develop friendships with some pretty special people. The first set of friendships were with other expats, with whom I was able to develop much closer bonds with in comparison to my other trips to the African continent. This led to baking parties, tea parties and chats and drinking at a bar called Wendy's which is literally a shack on the side of the road in the nice part of town (I really wish I had taken a picture of it). The second set of friendships was made with some incredibly brave Congolese colleagues who shared their city, work and lives with me who remain very close to my heart. 



During my research I also got to meet some amazing Congolese people who are risking their comfort and sometimes lives to promote human rights and peace. This is done through trainings, radio shows, workshops, direct livelihoods support and medical interventions and advocacy campaigns. I feel that the mere existence of these organisations and their staff in such difficult circumstances is reason enough on its own for both the Congolese and the World to believe that peace is possible. I'm really looking forward to being able to write about these amazing contributions in my thesis. 



I also occasionally got to help while I was in Bukavu. It brought me great pleasure to pay for medical treatment for a baby in my neighbourhood who had a hot iron fall on her face, and for choir uniforms for her older sisters. I also found some enjoyment out of teaching the staff at the organisations that I was working with some English and I learned that language instruction is hard. 



Beyond the DRC I also had some other great opportunities to travel. I spent the better part of a week in Kigali where I enjoyed restaurants, shopping, seeing the legislative buildings, vising the Genocide Memorial and more. It was also a great pleasure to return to Kampala and visit old friends, go salsa dancing, go swimming, eat cake and go to a comedy show while I was in the region. I also went to conferences in Halifax and Washington DC where my research received much positive feedback. In Halifax I enjoyed visiting friends and being by the Ocean and in Washington I visited the national mall, the Woodley Park Zoo and the craft Smithsonian. I even managed to fit in time for some conferencing and enjoyed learning about other people's work.... Oh and last but not least I also visited Quebec City and Rimouski where I took in natural and heritage sites and got to spend time with my friend Nigel! Such adventures!  



As for things on the professional side, although I don't think I'll be seeking a reference from my summer employer, my efforts in the position ultimately led to four women from conflict affected countries receiving visas to come to Canada and receive mentorship from the organisation. I also had an opportunity to meet these women whose program I helped to design which was super. 



Further, although finding a clear path to finishing my thesis was a struggle, I now have a very clear idea where to take my research once I finish my Ph.D. and I see continued opportunities to contribute to research on both peacebuilding and the DRC if I so choose. I'm also ultimately satisfied with the breakup with my thesis supervisor. Throughout the process I felt like my needs were prioritized, my relationship with my new supervisor is going really well AND I'm feeling much less stressed. 



Last but not least since I've come home I've also found great joy in spending time with my friends, in a way I don't remember experiencing before. It's a really nice feeling which I can't easily capture in text form. 

Come back tomorrow and find out just why I've been so grateful for these friendships. 

2016 Part I: The Stormy Weather Post

Over the holidays I've been trying hard to make sense of everything that's happened in 2016. Overall I would describe the year as a terrible disaster with some silver linings, which I got through with the help of my friends. So I'm going to write to you about this year in three parts: Stormy Weather; Silver Linings and; Gratitude for Getting By With a Little Help From My Friends. 

For this first post, please fasten your seat-belts and return your seat to the upright position, we are in for a bumpy ride. 

In January 2016 I was full of enthusiasm for what I thought would be the first of two hard-fought trips to the DRC. Throughout the month I packed my bags not only for a three month trip but also to leave the beautiful apartment I had been sharing with one of my best friends who was going to be moving in with her boyfriend while I was gone. By the end of the month I had said goodbye to my family and friends and was facing a whole lot of change at once. 

At the beginning of February I traveled to Bukavu by plane with a colleague with whom I shared some romantic type feelings. The first week in Bukavu was hectic with him being shuttled around by his organisation which was also one of the three organisations I would work with, trying to set up in my new apartment and establishing contact with other peacebuilding organisations. Although nothing notable happened during his presence for the week of my trip his departure hit me really hard. So hard that I spent an entire day crying in bed after he left. I was alone and feeling very exposed in a rural, extremely poor fragile context and wasn't sure where to start. After two weeks he stopped returning my emails without explanation and no, he didn't know about the crying. 

Personally the trip was very hard. Not having drivers, cooks or security assistance, and working directly with local organisations left me very exposed to daily and more acute stresses. During my trip I watched a woman being beaten with no one to call for help, became very ill with a respiratory infection, was abandoned in a small town without a vehicle or cell phone reception in an area with an active rebel movement and was followed home by an individual who aggressively pressed me for money. On top of this our house cat who brought me some comfort disappeared at the beginning of April leading both to sadness and to an influx of rats in our kitchen. We suspect the cat was trapped and eaten.

In the end all of this was manageable. I took things one day at a time and got over it (except for the cat). Instead the things that I've found difficult to cope with were totally unexpected. 

I, perhaps naively, went to the DRC hoping to come back telling a different story. Not one about how poor, suffering and traumatized the population was, but one of hope which highlighted the commitment of local individuals and communities to bringing peace to their country. While I think I did find the hope I was looking for, which I'll talk about in my silver linings post, this hope was ultimately overshadowed for me by the tragedy that I wintessed in the daily lives of my research participants and the other people around me. Almost all of the staff from the organisations I worked with had experienced loss as a result of the conflict, had witnessed extreme violence and/or had been forcibly displaced for a significant period of time. Despite having some of the more secure jobs available in the province they struggled to feed, clothe, house and educate their families. A lot of them faced violence and threats as part of their job. Yet, the absolute worst part of this was how scared they all were that the country was teetering on the edge of violence and poverty that they had no control over which arrived officially on their doorsteps in the later part of this year. It was even harder to accept. Let me be clear, there is no easy way out for the DRC. At some point the international community will need to step away and let the state actually govern its territory, but doing so will risk organised violence which could worsen what can only already be described as a humanitarian disaster, before the state finds its authority and ability to govern. 

I came back to Canada in May still planning to return to the DRC but I was sick, very stressed and completely exhausted. I did what I needed to in May. Found a new apartment, fulfilled maid of honour duties and sought treatment for my cough. 

By June I was feeling optimistic again. I moved, found a wonderful summer job and started dating the colleague mentioned above. My cough was even under control and I got to go to Halifax for a conference. However, it quickly became clear that the job was more stress than I could handle and the relationship ended quickly. By early August my cough was back and you've already read my post about medical house arrest. In mid-August a man who had continually harassed me by phone and email while I was in the DRC was trying to contact me on my Canadian number and via Facebook.By September tensions were rising in the DRC around the elections scheduled for November which were ultimately postponed leading to protests and violence.

It was time to face the reality that things were not working out as planned with my thesis. 

In early September I discussed the possibility of choosing a new context for a second case study for my thesis with my supervisors, we initially selected Colombia. At the same time I was transcribing my interviews from South Kivu and began to realize how much data I had already collected 55 interviews, 35,000 words of field notes. It became clear that if I duplicated my research in another context that I was going to have so much data that it was going to be unmanageable and that I would struggled to finish my Ph.D. 

I decided to pull the plug on the second case study in early October after a discussion with my co-supervisor led to a suggestion that I select another case. I frantically tried to develop a new plan and did which I presented to my supervisors. They wrote back with five points, four of which were reasonable questions the fifth which implored me to go back to the DRC for the sake of my academic reputation. 

Again, I put my foot down. I wouldn't be able to go on to be a professor if I were too traumatized to go on working or worse if I was dead anyways. This led to an altercation with my primary supervisor with whom I had, had a difficult relationship from the beginning which ended with her resignation from my committee. Although I feel that it was handled very poorly ultimately I know that this was the best decision for both of us. I too had been trying to decide how to walk away from her supervision for several months. 

As far as supervisory breakups go this one wasn't so bad. My co-supervisor agreed to continue as my primary supervisor and things have been going much more smoothly ever since. Late November and December have gone more smoothly with some annoying blips around the holidays related to gift giving and yet another relationship gone awry. Overall things seem to be moving in a more positive 2017, but if I learned anything from this year it was to not take anything for granted. 

Check back tomorrow afternoon for my Silver Linings Post.