Hope Springs Community

I’m writing this journal entry near the end of my first day back at work. I figured it would allow me to collect my thoughts on my week in Mississippi. I’m wondering if my thoughts and experiences are unique, or if they are shared throughout the amazing group of volunteers I had the pleasure of living with last week. I’m also writing to try and express the types of feelings one can experience spent away from home trying to “make the world a better place”. If you’ve volunteered in some capacity before, you’ll know what I mean. If you haven’t, maybe it’s worth looking into.

I had skipped the previous volunteer trip in the fall of ’06 and almost felt guilty for doing so – the conscience works in a very persuasive way. I felt like it was my duty to suck it up, and help out where I can – and that I’d missed a golden opportunity to do so last November. I’m fortunate enough to have a great job, a loving family, and enough comfort in my life to be able to live in some degree of luxury. I mean, I’ll buy premium imported beer and think nothing of it. I’ll eat at a pricey restaurant or buy some expensive shoes and not consider the scores of people in North America – let alone the world – who don’t eat breakfast in the morning or have a warm bed to sleep in at night. I’m by no means a rich man, but I do have a lot more than a lot of people. Why not spread the wealth?

Upon arriving in New Orleans I felt slightly nervous and excited, yet simultaneously drained – no doubt in part to the connecting flights and local relative humidity. But I also had a tremendous feeling of purpose, a sense of being. I didn’t necessarily feel I was on this volunteer trip to impress anyone or to draw the admiration of my peers – which inevitably happened, nonetheless – and I was sure I’d be able to put this new-found sense of honour and fellowship to good use, but how?

Everything really started to come together for me as we traveled to the jobsite on Monday morning – we had arrived at the volunteer camp at night and it was impossible to gauge the madness of Katrina some 20 months before. Traveling in daylight, however, completely opened my eyes to a new world – one filled with destruction, poverty, and humiliation. Homes were destroyed by Katrina – leveled by her winds and flooded by her waters. Businesses were forced to close – if they hadn’t been ruined – by store owners without customers. Communities were torn apart by depression, weakness, and negativity. This was a picture painted with shades of grey, without a bit of light.

The overall feeling at the construction jobsite was completely opposite and for that I was delighted. Here, the mood was upbeat and positive, enthusiastically injected with a shot each of camaraderie and compassion. Here, the people held their heads high with bright smiles and laughter echoing throughout. Here, we were all the same people, with the same values and the same, common goal – to help those in need. This is where it didn’t matter if you were American or not, if you were young or old, if you were rich or poor. The collective feeling was that of commonality, citizenship and contentment. Content with ourselves, yes, that we were doing a “good deed”, but also content with the feeling of equality and hope. That all hope was not, in fact, crucified by the violent hands of Katrina, but that there was enough hope left to build a house, to re-build a family and to construct a new-found friendship within a grief-stricken community.

We were motivated by a sense of urgency – that the government of the world’s most powerful country seemingly ignores its own plight. We were united by a common feeling of hope that one day, all of these people would be on their feet once again, leading the lives they choose and not the ones they were forced into. We were encouraged by each other and the task at hand – to not only help rebuild a family’s home, but to also help rebuild their lives. That, for me, was enough reason to volunteer.

More Pictures

Trip Summary

It's Monday morning, and I am back at my desk in Hillside 1. It is a funny feeling being back in the usual routine after such an amazing, and without a doubt, different, week. As unforgettable as our trip was, it feels like it was ancient history as I type, sitting in a comfortable office chair, in my business casual (as opposed to the 3-day worn cargo shorts, work boots, and ragged t-shirt), in an air-conditioned building.

The first thing that struck me as we travelled to our accommodations was the visible damage and ruin that remained in the area, so long after the disaster. Collapsing buildings and vacant businesses lined the highway, and the water line from the flood level was visible on telephone poles and fences.

We arrived at our humble lodgings, and I think it is safe to say that many of us were a little less than thrilled at just how humble they were. What amounted to little more than a campsite awaited us, but to my surprise and delight, we found the cabins had a small AC unit in each! but that is as far as luxury items went.

6:30 Monday morning came quickly despite the one hour time difference. Breakfast was cereal and a cup of coffee, and we loaded the vans and headed to our job site, about 10 minutes away. As you can see from the pictures posted on our site, we started our project in the very early stages of construction. We accomplished a lot on our first day, though it was not until Tuesday that we really got the ball rolling.

On Tuesday, I found myself teamed up with Ron Montgomery and Eric the Canadian, and the three of us formed a cohesive team for the rest of the week. We tackled various projects: framing the overhangs of the roof, siding, soffits, flashing, fascia, and caulking. And each task brought it's own brand of comedy, from my inability to remember the word "soffit" to the more juvenile but nonetheless inevitable "caulk" jokes, and I can't forget to mention the endless fun with Canadian pronunciation. This was one more aspect of our working dynamic that made hard labor into an enjoyable activity, and allowed us to maintain a high level of productivity.

Despite one rained out day, the SEI/Habitat for humanity team got a tremendous amount of work done. The entire exterior of the house was completed in one week! the interior was for the most part completed, minus painting, flooring, and furnishings. Be sure to check out pictures on our site that illustrate our progress from start to finish.

The two things that I took away from this trip, not in any particular order:
1. Camaraderie. Can't beat it. I had so much fun with everyone that came, and made great friends at SEI, not only in Oaks, but Toronto (moose country), London, and Dublin as well (even though Anne drove us on the wrong side of the road once or twice).
2. A feeling of deep satisfaction. Despite the limited first-hand experience I had with the effects of Hurricane Katrina, what I saw from the highway was enough to have an impact on me, when I considered how long it has been since the disaster. To know that I was able to be so helpful with a family's efforts to rebuild their lives is indescribable. Not only was the family extremely grateful, but every local we met genuinely thanked us for our efforts.

Shout outs/inside jokes: the Saw Doff's crew, Milo, "good crack" (Anne!), Loose Moose, Camp Coastal, "The Kill", bed diving, Delta Squad, Southern Pecan, "Captain" Jack (I still owe you that re-match), Antonis' dry shoes, jambalaya, Mimi, Stop signs, Hollywood Casino, Hancock Bank, conversaciones en espanol, "eh", Americore, hand grenades, Dan and the Habitat crew, and last but not least- Head, shoulders...

Thanks to everyone who made the trip so enjoyable. Thanks to all the committee members who made it possible, and thanks to everyone who came that truly made it what it was.

New Orleans - A Different Look

Thursday night was a whole different experience for me compared to the rest of the group. It was a chance for me to catch up with my aunt who lived in New Orleans for the past 25 years. This would be my first chance to visit her in her hometown. Her life, like many others, to say the least has been greatly impacted by Hurricane Katrina. For the past three months she has been living in a FEMA trailer that is parked right in front of the house she lived in for 25 years. The only thing that remains is the foundation and frame. Everything else had been destroyed. Like myself I’m sure that most of you think that New Orleans is on the up and up and basically in a lot better condition than it was two years ago. Well I’m going to tell you that that is only true for certain parts of the city. Yes, the oldest part of the city, the French Quarter, does seem to be operating smoothly, but that is because it was not hit as badly by Katrina. My aunt has told me that in her neighborhood, Gentilly (Ward 6), only one in twenty are currently living in trailers and that only one in sixteen plan to rebuild. In the city of New Orleans the population before the Hurricane was roughly 484,000 and as of March 2007 is estimated to be 255,000.

The simple things that we take for granted are almost seen as a luxury in ward 6 and other parts of New Orleans. All of my aunt’s personal mail now has to be addressed to her friend’s house in the downtown section of town. Mail, if you are lucky is delivered once a week. The same goes for trash collection in her area. Street lights have just been put up as recently as this past February and traffic lights are few and far between. Watching the news last night it was sad to see that they had a story about a local man who put red octagon made up with plywood in place for a stop signs because the city couldn’t even get them up everywhere. The Mississippi Gulf Coast Area seems to be in a better condition where more stores and restaurants have already been rebuilt. There is only one store, a supermarket, within a mile of my aunt’s trailer.

The social seen has changed dramatically for my aunt and those around her as well. With most of her friends scattering to other places such as Texas and South Carolina it is much more desolate and empty in that sense. No more monthly book club meetings, no more weekly movie night (theater is no longer there), and even the corner bar has been wiped away.

I’m sure you have heard about the looting and thieving and murder rate in New Orleans. The expression, “desperate times call for desperate measure,” seems to be sort of a motto for some around here. I have even heard it compared to the “wild west” by a couple of locals. My aunt did tell me that her FEMA trailer was broken into in March while she was sleeping in it. The robber made off with everything of value that my aunt had. Her jewelry that was brought with her during her evacuation, her credit cards, driver’s license, trailer key and car keys. The person ended up stealing her car and forcing my aunt to change the locks on her trailer. If cancelling all of her cards, changing her locks my aunt was also forced to buy another car (with inflated insurance prices) pushing her further in debt.

In the book 1 Dead in the Attic by Chris Rose, a collection of short stories that are post Katrina, it has a story that starts out, “Everyone down here is now mentally ill.” He goes on to compare the lines for prescriptions for mental health drugs, as the only thing as long as the lines for lumber and air conditioners. My uncle is on edge as well. He is a fire fighter down in New Orleans who is on call 24 hours at the fire house six days a week. His department only used to get about 5 calls a day; that has now doubled. With things such a water mains and fire hydrants needing repair and the occasionally dead body still being found life as a firefighter is an exhausting job.

After learning all of these things that I did not know about this one thing I will take away from this trip is that one person can make a difference. Whether it be the time we donate to help, or the money we donate to those in need all of us can play a role when tragedy strikes. Finally, I would just like to thank all of the other volunteers and SEI for making this trip possible. It was an eye opening experience that has brought me closer to members of my family as well as other co-workers whom I would not have met otherwise. I would also personally like to thank all the businesses and people who made personal contributions without them this trip would not be possible. Thank you.

America Coming Together Habitat-Tues.

Tuesday was not as nearly as hot or as humid as Monday. The physical labor was also less demanding as we had already taken care of the roof and almost the entire exterior layer of plywood on the house. We ended up almost finishing the siding, and getting a layer of covering for the plywood on the roof. We also put up some windows and carried the delivery of sheet rock inside for tomorrow.
If I can once again steal a page from James McHale’s GWMP emails updates, today’s theme was John Mellancamp's lyrics, “But ain’t that America for you and me ain’t that America we’re something to see.” Even though this was our second day down there I was still amazed by that fact that so many people from all over have to come to help those who lives had been devastated by Hurricane Katrina. The group next to us came all the way from Seattle for the week to help out. It is neat to see that people look past different race, religion, and political affiliation to do good for fellow mankind. It truly is a reward to be involved in this process.

The Excitement of Monday Morning

We awoke ate breakfast and broke our big group in half: one side was to build a house for Habitat for Humanity and the other was to due random on site projects for Camp Coastal during the week.

SEI logic came into play here as we had the lone Irish volunteer carting my group around for the week. After we briefed her on which side of the road to drive on and that the first vehicle to stop at a four way crossing gets right of way we were headed to the Habitat for Humanity site. After a couple of wrong turns we made it there and got briefed on what needed to be done. The frame and foundation were already up; it was our job with the help of 10 Americorps individuals and a couple of supervisors to finish this house by the end of the week.

I am not going to bore you with the specifics of building a house, but I am going to tell you it was a very hot day involving some of the most difficult manual labor that I have done in a while. This long, long morning finally ended when we broke at 12:00pm for lunch.
The theme of our Monday afternoon was clearly spelled out by the current song blasting on the radio; Ozzy Osbourne, “No More Tears” came on. As I watched people labor back and forth in this heat, I realized that there are no more tears. The rebuilding process for the Gulf Coast had well been on its way, and the sadness of Katrina had long been gone. It is great to see the spirit of this great country come together and work for a great cause, and this was only the beginning.