Sonja Egeland Kelly

I do not have a bank branch within 100 miles of my home.

In my defense, the period of my life in which I moved from Chicago, IL to Washington, DC was a blur. I worked until the very end of my Chicago life, endured tearful goodbyes with my familiar network of friends and colleagues, and jumped headfirst into a PhD program 1,000 miles away. My personal life was in chaos, so it is no surprise that I didn’t find time to switch from my Chicago bank account to a DC-based bank

And so, in true chaotic graduate school fashion, I have been living without a bank branch now for almost two years. It’s not so bad. I deposit checks by taking photos of them with my husband’s iPhone, I get cash by choosing the “cashback” option at the grocery store checkout, and I do the rest of my banking online.

But sometimes I get a glimpse of what it would be like not to have a bank account. Like when I have forgotten to take out cash at the grocery store and have to go buy something on craigslist for which I have no method of payment. Or, alternatively, when I have received cash and have nowhere to keep it safe. Or when I have to write a check and am out of cashier’s checks (and forgot to order new ones when I got to the back of my checkbook).

The point is, my financial life would be far easier if I had a bank branch nearby. I have grand visions of sitting down with a personal banker, naming my financial needs, and receiving a product that helps me achieve my financial goals. I think sometimes about ATMs that don’t charge me fees, or about not having to borrow my husband’s iPhone to make a deposit. Or earning interest on the cash that is sitting around in my house (dear thief reading this post: it’s grad school-style cash, not career-style cash).

As I am thinking about people who don’t have access to a bank, or who have to walk half a day to make a deposit, I have a small sliver of experience with which to base some empathy. Using local formal banking services may not increase my wealth, but it certainly would improve my quality of life.

Lately I’ve been expending my blogging efforts over at the Center for Financial Inclusion at ACCION International. I’m curating a series on financial inclusion by 2020–galvanizing thoughts and action steps by engaging with industry leaders in an interesting online consultative process. It’s a pretty big deal, and I feel really excited to be a part of it.

Check it out when you have a chance. We are at the beginning of our series, which is going to run over the next few months. Hope you like it!

The nobel peace prize was awarded today to three women who deserve both our attention and our praise. The winners were Liberian President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, peace activist Leymah Gbowee, and Tawakul Karman of Yemen, a pro-democracy campaigner.

There are a number of reasons that I am thrilled about this. First, they are extraordinary women in their own right. I know more about President Johnson Sirleaf than I do about the other two, but what I can say about her is that I admire her grace and confidence in the face of a world where she is defining where the “glass ceilings” are.

Second, I am thrilled at the message this sends to the world. A woman has not received the prize since 2004 when Wangari Maathai was honored for her work. This decision sends a message about the important role that women play in fostering peace in the world, and will continue to play going forward.

Finally, I am tickled that three women were chosen together. I secretly (and now not so secretly) picture the committee in a locked room, distraught: “We have SO MANY deserving women! How in the world are we going to choose one? Wait, I know… let’s just choose three.” I know that is probably not what happened, but it is wonderful to think about nonetheless.

What I do know is that today, I am so proud to be a woman. I hope that in my own lifetime I can achieve even a small fraction of what these women have accomplished.

[I also want to recognize that there are so many other woman deserving of this prize. Angela Merkel, for example, or Michele Bachelet. I didn't want to forget them, even in a small way by putting them in my li'l blog post.]

Photo cred: Left: Chester Higgins Jr./The New York Times; center: Jim Watson/Agence France-Presse — Getty Images; right: Ahmed Jadallah/Reuters, all via the New York Times.

Last night I participated in a workshop organized by Making Cents International (who I would, from my very limited exposure, recommend for microfinance consulting needs). In the workshop, our group of 18 had to participate in one business cycle. We were put into three groups, which represented three businesses, and were given a loan of $200 which we had to grow into $250 by the end of the month. Along the way, we needed to remember to buy food, save extra funds in the bank, respond to “challenges” that were assigned to us, and increase our profit.

Needless to say, it was difficult. Two out of the three groups went bankrupt.

The most frustrating “day” in the business cycle was the day when we had to pay rent. A large lump sum was due, and it was the day before we were set to go to market. We didn’t have the cash on hand that we needed, and had to get creative with our “landlord.”

During the debrief session, one of the facilitators mentioned that once he had used this game with a group of Nigerian farmers and another time with a group of MBA students. All of the MBA students went bankrupt in the simulation, but the Nigerian farmers ended up with a hefty profit.

There are a number of take-aways that I gleaned from our workshop.

• First, financial literacy is not always about book smarts–it is often more about savvy. Our team was the only one that ended the game with a profit, and the reason was that we negotiated with those we bought and sold from.
• Loans are not always used for businesses, and if we think they are we are kidding ourselves. My team only used about half of its loan to invest in our business.
• To succeed in business, you need a good product–no matter what part of the world you are from. We listened to our customers, and continued to increase their satisfaction by producing more and better products that they liked.
• Social capital is important. I’m not quite up on my social capital literature yet (although I am working on it), but trust is often the bedrock of financial transaction.

NASA just released this interesting photo of the India-Pakistan border as seen from space (to understand more about what you’re looking at in terms of which cities each of the really bright spots represent head on over here).

The border is lit by huge spotlights, and the historical animosity between the two neighbors is equally glaring. Since the decolonization of the area, and the establishment of the border to make a distinction between two different religious majorities in the region, the border has been under almost constant dispute.

But the conflict extends beyond official documents that track borders and territories along latitudes and longitudes. Just the other day, I was sitting in the common area at my university, and a group of students (presumably undergraduates) sat down near me. A heated debate ensued: which chai was better, that from India or that from Pakistan.

The students flung insults at one another about having bland taste or needing too much spice, of a lack of attention to detail or a lack of patience in letting food and drink develop a “sophisticated” taste. They discussed heritage: how their fathers and their grandfathers had made chai, and the memories associated with the drink.

Indeed, it is this conversation that is more emblematic of the entrenched, internalized borders between the country. Seemingly arbitrary traditions like tea become symbols of difference and locations of meaning. It’s something to chew on this gloomy late-summer DC day.

(Side note: I have a friend, Audra Yoder, who is studying the history of tea in Russia and how tea as a site of meaning making has evolved with Russian history. If you really are interested in scholarship on tea, she’s someone to know! Feel free to email me if you need an introduction.)

Photo Cred: NASA

Position: Intern

Organization: Libyan Rebels

Responsibilities: Learned how to use a gun, practiced cross-cultural communication, oh and attempted to depose a dictator.

I am sure that by now you’ve heard of Chris Jeon, a UCLA college student who decided to join the Libyan rebels during his summer vacation. Not knowing the language, not really understanding the culture, not caring about the life-threatening nature of the conflict, he flew to Egypt and crossed the border into Libya.

In the photo that has flown around the internet, he holds a gun precariously, barrel up. And he may be thinking that the chemistry class grade safety glasses on his head will protect him from flying shrapnel? Who knows.

Whatever the reason for his ignorance, I am embarrassed by this guy. Who does he think he is? Apparently, the Libyan rebels agree. He’s been sent home.

Just in time for school to start, I suppose.

Image by Bradley Hope with The National.