Myriam Dago, Bachelor in International Development and Globalization, 4th year
Internship country: Ivory Coast
Canadian NGO: World University Service of Canada (WUSC)
Local NGO: World University Service of Canada (WUSC)
Conducting research in a classroom and conducting it in the field are two very different experiences. I realized this fairly quickly during my internship in Côte d’Ivoire with World University Service of Canada (WUSC). When I arrived with my methodological tools, a research question, and a work plan, I was focused mainly on the best way to collect the data I would need. I hadn’t yet realized just how much the fieldwork itself would shape the way I conducted my research.
As part of the IGNI+E project, my mandate was to study the factors influencing youth employability in the agricultural sector in Côte d’Ivoire, with a particular focus on young women. My work would take me to Songon and Agboville, where I hoped to go beyond statistics to better understand the realities faced by young people and stakeholders in the sector.
Before I left, my studies in international development and globalization had already taught me how to define a research question, review the literature, develop a methodology, and analyze data. On paper, the various steps seemed to follow a certain logic. But once I arrived on the ground, a much more practical question quickly arose: how do you move forward with research when the fieldwork doesn’t exactly follow the planned outline?
It was from this question that my learning truly began.
Learning to Deal with the Unexpected
A significant part of my research involved communicating with public institutions and various stakeholders in the agricultural sector. So I began by identifying contacts, presenting my project, sending out requests, and trying to arrange the meetings needed to collect data.
That’s when I discovered an aspect of research that academic deadlines sometimes make difficult to anticipate: institutional timelines don’t necessarily align with those of the researcher.
Some of the information I needed existed, but accessing it required several steps. In some cases, the data was spread across different departments, each of which might require a separate formal request. The time it took to obtain information or arrange certain meetings therefore did not always align with the schedule I had envisioned.
However, my internship had a limited duration. I could hardly wait for all the responses before beginning my fieldwork. So I had to reevaluate certain priorities, adjust my schedule, and find other ways to move the research forward.
At first, this situation might have given the impression that I was straying from the plan I had prepared. Yet I gradually came to understand that adapting did not mean abandoning my methodology. Rather, I had to learn to work within the constraints of the field while maintaining the same standards of rigor.
This experience changed the way I understand research. In academia, a research protocol can sometimes give the impression that good research is research that strictly adheres to the plan established at the outset. Fieldwork taught me that a good plan must also leave room for the unexpected.
Rigor is not synonymous with rigidity.
When the Field Begins to Speak
Gradually, my research moved away from documents, emails, and official requests to become much more concrete.
My trips to Songon and Agboville allowed me to meet various stakeholders, conduct interviews, and, above all, observe the environments in which the realities I was studying took shape. Through observation, I was sometimes able to notice details that did not necessarily come up in the responses I received during interviews.
At that point, certain concepts I had studied in my classes began to take on a new meaning.
Reading in a document that access to land or financing is a barrier to agricultural employment is one thing. Hearing people explain how these difficulties concretely influence their career choices is quite another. The concepts I had studied were no longer just analytical categories: they now corresponded to experiences that people were sharing with me.
One encounter in particular gave me pause for thought.
At a job fair, I asked several young people if they would consider working in the agricultural sector. I expected to encounter some reluctance. However, several responses were much more open than I had anticipated: “Yes, why not?” “Yes, if I get the chance.”
One young man with a background in computer science told me that after a period of unemployment, he had turned to raising rabbits and then growing tomatoes. When he talked about what would allow him to continue down this path, the issue of funding quickly came up.
This conversation led me to rethink my own perspective.
I could have continued to wonder why some young people didn’t choose agriculture. But that question was no longer sufficient. If some were already open to the sector—or had even tried working in it—I also needed to understand what might be preventing them from turning that interest into a sustainable livelihood.
The question then became: Under what conditions can agriculture truly be a viable career option for young people?
As I met with people, I also came to understand why it was important to consider multiple perspectives. Young people, farmers, and institutions did not always describe realities in the same way. These differences did not necessarily mean that one perspective was more accurate than another. Rather, they helped me better grasp the complexity of the issue.
It was probably at that point that I began to see my topic not merely as a question to which I had to find an answer, but as a reality that I had to learn to understand.
Becoming a Field Researcher
This internship finally helped me understand the difference between knowing a method and actually having to use it.
In the field, you have to know how to listen. Sometimes you have to rephrase a question because it isn’t understood the way you had imagined. You have to accept that an interview might bring up a question that wasn’t in the original guide. You also have to recognize that some information may not be available and that the data collected doesn’t always allow you to confirm everything you’d like to.
The human dimension of research also made a strong impression on me. Confidentiality and consent were no longer just concepts encountered in a methodology course. They were part of every encounter and part of my responsibility toward the people who agreed to give me their time and share their experiences.
Little by little, I learned to pay attention not only to what people were telling me, but also to what my data did not allow me to conclude. I also came to understand that conducting research doesn’t mean arriving in the field with all the answers. A large part of the work consists precisely of accepting that the people we meet may challenge our initial hypotheses.
Looking back, I wouldn’t say that my field experience contradicted what I had learned at the University of Ottawa. Rather, it helped me understand why those lessons were important.
Concepts such as development, gender, employability, and public policy take on a whole new dimension when confronted with the experiences of the people directly affected. A reality described in a few lines in an article can become much more complex when you have to observe it, ask questions about it, and understand why different stakeholders interpret it differently.
I arrived at this internship equipped with the theoretical and methodological tools I’d acquired during my studies. I’m leaving with a much more concrete understanding of their usefulness—but also of their limitations.
University taught me how to design a research project. Fieldwork taught me how research is actually conducted: by planning, observing, listening, and, above all, knowing how to adapt without compromising rigor.
This experience has thus allowed me to bridge two aspects of my education that can sometimes seem worlds apart: what we learn in the classroom and what we discover when we have to apply that knowledge to real-world situations. It is in this space between theory and practice that I probably learned the most during my internship in Côte d’Ivoire.