Disaster Reliever

A sure, quiet voice amid chaos.

James Fleming's office feels like a Zen meditation room. Green plants, a leather armchair and dim lighting stand in sharp contrast to the harsh fluorescents in the hallways of the U.S. Agency for International Development. A bright yellow sign warning visitors against putting classified documents in his in box seems out of place.

His job, however, is anything but calm. The 37-year-old Fleming works with senior managers in Washington to manage relief assistance during disasters. He oversees offices abroad as the operations division director at USAID's Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance.

He occasionally steps away from normal duties to work on USAID's emergency response teams, such as the one serving Southeast Asia after last year's tsunami. As deputy manager of the team, he spent seven days a week in December and January handling requests from the field, for everything from grants to water jugs.

Fleming also helped lead the Iraq disaster assistance response team in 2003, for which he learned to use a gas mask and how to respond to chemical and biological weapons. Even in Iraq, his colleagues say, he was a soothing source. "He was that universal figure, the consensus figure that people felt was always calm, unflappable . . . and with a good attitude toward solving problems," says longtime USAID consultant Robert Gersony.

Fleming had planned to go to medical school after college, and decided to first join the Peace Corps as a study break. But as he taught math and science at a high school in a humid Cameroon village in West Africa, he realized he wanted to focus on international development and aid instead of medicine.

"I really enjoyed that, being part of a community that I obviously didn't fit into," he says. He remembers how intriguing he was to some of his neighbors: As he sat out on his porch reading a book, children would gather by the gate and ask him questions or whisper about him.

His Peace Corps supervisor, Will Anderson, who is now a staff director at the Environmental Protection Agency, says he noticed that Fleming quickly overcame his natural introversion. "If I could identify one thing that was something he had to overcome or wrestle with, it's that when you're there, your time isn't your own," he says.

After two years in Cameroon, Fleming's computer and French skills helped him land a job at the Washington office of the International Organization for Migration, which works with the United Nations and other organizations. He managed the Washington office's Africa programs, which assist successful African nationals living overseas in returning to their native countries.

At IOM, he had to rely on his cross-cultural skills while he was escorting about a dozen Indians who wanted to return home after they had unsuccessfully attempted to immigrate to the United States. When customs officials at the Delhi airport tried to interrogate the group, Fleming negotiated for five hours to get them admitted. Afterward, the customs officials invited Fleming to have tea. "We talked just like nothing had happened at all," Fleming recalls.

Four years later, he was ready for another change. The Office of Foreign Disaster Assistance seemed like the right mix between hands-on aid and donation. "It's not one of those organizations that's sitting back and writing checks to organizations that are doing the work," he says.

Fleming makes sure he doesn't spend too much time at his desk. He snowboards and reads. And even though his wife, Sureka Khandagle, also works at OFDA, he tries to keep his personal life separate from the chaos of work. "I feel like I spend more than enough hours at the job," he says.