Volunteer Team heads to Trinidad to help build a house! September 20, 2011

Last week, Juli Genovesi and myself, both Hands on Leadership graduates had the pleasure of leading a group of 6 volunteers on a Habitat for Humanity Global Village build in Trinidad.

The idea for this trip started last December as the capstone for Juli’s HOL class and I got looped in soon thereafter.  While we initially looked at builds within the US we eventually got more ambitious and landed on Trinidad because of it’s interesting culture and acute need for housing help.  The following eight months were a whirlwind as we took trainings from Habitat, sorted out tons of logistics, recruited volunteers, and threw a few large scale fund raising events including a benefit concert at the Triple Door (thanks to Juli’s amazing musical connections).

With everything in place, our team of 8, finally headed off for Trinidad on the 3rd of September.  We arrived on the island on Saturday, and got to spend our first night at a small hotel on the outskirts of the capital, Port of Spain.  The next morning we woke up early, grabbed breakfast, and set off for our build site in the southern town of Point Fortin, known to the locals as just “Point”.

In Point we had a small guest house to ourselves including three rooms and a common area.  The local habitat office rep, Sharlin, was with us the whole time there and went out of her way to make our experience amazing.

Our first day involved seeing the build site and meeting the future homeowners we’d be helping: Melissa Brown and her husband.  We then got to enjoy a little fun on the beach to relax and get ready for our hard work ahead.

Each weekday, we’d get up at 7AM, eat breakfast which was provided by the Habitat affiliate, then head out to the site.  By 8:30 we would meet our foreman, Marcus Lucas, a habitat contractor, and start on the tasks for the day.  While the logistics and planning were not as rigorous as one may expect in the US, the whole team adapted well and went with flow.  Our goal was to get as far as we could on the foundation and included straightening up a trench, building re-bar for the hole by bending steel using our hands, then filling the entire ditch with hand mixed and bucket carried concrete.  In 95 degree heat with high humidity it was very taxing work for us Seattlites who’re not used to seeing the sun at all. Any cloud cover we got was a welcome break and passing showers provided us with a bit of relief as well.  The best part of the experience was being able to work alongside the family members whom we were building for as it made our impact more appreciable.  We really gelled as a team and by the end of the week exceed expectations by finishing the entire foundation.

After each workday, we had time to wonder around town and get a sense of the local scene.  We went to grocery stores, hung out in coffee shops, and even became addicted to the local street food called “doubles” which were served out of the back of a station wagon in the center of town.  One night we went us out as a team and got to experience a student steel drum group perform local music.

On Friday night, we went back to Port of Spain and took a one day excursion on Saturday to Tobago, a more touristy island.  While there we lounged on the beach and got to go snorkeling near a reef.  It was a welcome respite after a tough week of manual labor.  We returned to Trinidad that same evening, had a farewell ceremony hosted by the country’s Habitat affiliate, then woke up early the next morning to fly back to Seattle.

All in all, our Habitat for Humanity GV trip to Trinidad was an amazing experience.  It was a perfect mix of volunteering, immersion in the local culture, and a bit of vacationing.  While it was definitely challenging at times, with the skills we acquired in Hands on Leadership, Juli and I were set up well to plan and execute on this broad project.
-Kartik

 

And what do you know, we’ve got another service trip option coming up in November in Nicaragua if this sounds like something you’d want to do!

http://crookedtrails.org/nicaragua.php

Lost in the Clouds of Thailand January 11, 2010

I’ve felt a little lost in my own world ever since I returned from Thailand. I wanted to write about the experience – but I still feel like I’m in limbo. For a month my travel moleskin with notes from the trip has been in my purse waiting for the magical moment when I’m done ‘processing’ to come and inspiration to hit. Today I reached the decision that it won’t come unless I drag my head back down from the clouds. Please join me as I take a journey to reconnect my head to the ground.

It’s slightly ironic – or perhaps just meaningful – that the first memory that drops from my head to my hands on the keyboard is of the sky. One of the most beautiful magical moments in Thailand was a moment when our entire group got lost in the clouds. It was a moment of mysterious rainbows that would not be captured by a camera. They demanded to remain free and to stay in the moment. They refused to be brought home and shared with our friends and family abroad. The beauty was only for us. It was only for that one moment on a deserted beach after a day of planting mangroves, sharing a meal with our Thai hosts, cracking and preparing coconuts, and before the magic of singing and dancing with Sea Gypsies fueled by whiskey. That moment of mystery was ours and ours alone.

I still can’t answer the ubiquitous question “how was Thailand” without feeling like it’s a cop out. I can talk about the amazing people on the trip. I can talk about the $6 manicure/pedicures. I can talk about the Burmese children, our host family, the food, or the work. I can tell stories about pink taxis, tuk tuks, river taxis, long tail boats, subways, trains, and tractors. I can talk about Seattle Works, Crooked Trails, and Andaman Discoveries that made the trip possible. None of that truly answers the question.

Not having the answer makes my eyes burn with frustration. It’s not just that I don’t have a good 30 second elevator speech for the trip. I don’t even know what to tell my nearest and dearest loved ones. I think there is a part of me (heart? mind? soul?) that is stuck in that “miracle” in the clouds. At first I explained the fog as jet lag, then it was the darkness at 4:30 compared to the near 12 hours of light when we were traveling, but I’m running out of excuses.

Somehow, the trip was easy. I mean – it wasn’t. I didn’t speak the language. There were toilets that were completely alien to me. I couldn’t drink the water. The heat made the treated water I drank drip from my body faster than I could replenish it. There were mosquito bites that made me consider gnawing off parts of my legs. And yet, my default answer to the ever-frustrating question is “Thailand was amazing”. None of the challenges seemed to matter. It was worth it.

It occurs to me that the reason I can’t wrap my brain around how to describe the trip is that I haven’t decided what it means for my ‘real life’. I do think it means something. It inspired me. But what am I going to do about it? I don’t know yet. I have a good life. I have family. I have friends – the family that I have created from wide arrays of interesting people. I have more than I need when it comes to physical possessions. I give back by volunteering. I work for a company that is working to improve things all over the world. Looking at my life on paper, there isn’t much that I’d change. I am blessed to have the life that I do, but since I’ve returned I still feel disconnected from it.

Suddenly, I feel like I just saw that miracle again. My epiphany: on this trip abroad I found something I hadn’t been able to find with the small projects I do here in Seattle – passion. It is that thing that keeps me from making excuses, and makes me fight my way through even if it’s hard. I fight through the struggle only because the experience is worth it. Passion is the source of our finest moments. Seattle Works and Crooked Trails provided me with an experience that allowed me to rediscover what passion really does for me in my life. Now, it’s up to me to figure out how that passion translates to my life. My head is back on my shoulders and my feet are back on the ground, I just have to start running.

“Nothing great in the world has ever been accomplished without passion.” G. W. F. Hegel

- Nora Robertson (Team Captain)

Part of something bigger. December 16, 2009

We’d just eaten an amazing meal of fresh fish and vegetables and rice. Oh, so much rice. We sat on the floor of our homestay in Tung Dap with our Moken hosts; Beautiful, airy beams; A home built by hand.

Our host asked us why we were there.

Why would ten farangs take two weeks to travel to the other side of the globe to spend a few days painting a school and planting mangroves?

Jan’s answer, as I paraphrase, was about family. In our culture we don’t live, with multiple familial generations, under the same roof. But we still seek that connection. That community.

We want to be part of something bigger than ourselves.

I’ve been taking these service trips through Seattle Works since they first gathered a group of people together to travel to Biloxi, MS in early 2007. It had been a year and a half since the storm devastated the Gulf Coast. I was deeply moved when I watched the storm coverage. I was glued to the TV, thinking about my cousins who live in Biloxi, thinking about the beautiful city of New Orleans I’d visited a few times with my family before the storm. So when Seattle Works decided to send a group to help hang drywall, I knew I had to sign up.

We stayed at a big church, most of us sleeping on mats on the floor. Taking four minute outdoor showers. Hanging drywall. Cleaning a nearby neighborhood. Meeting longterm volunteers who’d been there since just after the storm. Spending some time at the pub next door, playing cards – Apples to Apples. Being genuinely inspired by fellow humans from various walks of life.

One of our first nights there, a gentleman named David, who had just celebrated his 60th birthday by volunteering with his family in Biloxi, shared about Tikkun Olam.

“… There’s an important principle in Judaism – it’s a commandment of Jewish law – called Tikkun Olam. Tikkun Olam means to repair the world. The Talmud says: “It is not up to you to finish the work, yet you are not free to avoid it.” No one can fix it all; but we all have a part to play. What’s going on down here could not be more important as an example of Tikkun Olam.”

Upon our departure, I realized that experience changed me. I was definitely part of something bigger than myself.

I returned to the Gulf Coast that summer. Spending a week in New Orleans volunteering with Katrina Corps. Then went back once more, right before Mardi Gras, volunteering with Hands on New Orleans.

Seattle Works partnered with Crooked Trails last year, sending a team to Peru. I had some friends go and was convinced to take these experiences abroad. So, despite feeling like I had no vacation time and no extra money, I signed up to go to Thailand.

Thailand was amazing.

Now that I’ve been back a few weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about what makes these experiences so powerful. It isn’t just where we’re going or the work we’re doing.

It’s the people.

I’ve met some remarkable people in the Seattle Works community. Spending time traveling, serving, and bonding over beers (whether Chang or Abita!) takes you into some pretty profound relationships in a short amount of time. You learn a lot about someone when you’re spending every day with them. Often in less than luxurious accomodations. Challenging days. Sharing in breathtaking vistas. Reflecting on the work you’re doing, the people you’re meeting. Remembering what’s important. Finding shared values.

Then these lovely, overlapping social circles emerge when we’re all back in Seattle. You take a group of volunteers and recruit them for your kickball team. You take a soccer team and recruit them for your volunteer project. Before you know it, you’re attending feasts in church basements and friending inanimate objects on Facebook.

At some point, you’re not just a part of something bigger than yourself. You’re creating it.

- Noelle Smithhart

We’re heading to Thailand! November 12, 2009

Why? “I needed to just do something; I’ve travelled, and learned that it’s all about the personal connections you make, volunteering will offer that; as a geologist I was fascinated by the tsunamis of 2004 and my heart goes out to those that were affected; I’ve been to the Gulf Coast with Seattle Works and was inspired by others that have done the same to do this trip as well; I’m thinking about pursuing a “career” in volunteerism, thought this would be a good way to try it out.”

To do what? We’re traveling to the Andaman Sea, a beautiful area affected by the tsunamis, but not quite destroyed. As a result it’s been one of the areas slowest to rebuild as they were not eligible to receive government support. We’ll be assembling desks and helping to set up a school as well as harvesting mangrove trees in hopes that their fish population will come back!

Who all’s going? Team Captain Nora Robertson, Noelle Smithhart, Gordon Hofman, Andrea Eakin, Leigh Noble, Calsee Rob, Margaret Grove, Jan Burrell, Kevin Burrell, and fantastic Crooked Trail Guide, Todd Parks.

Thailand here we come!

WTA & Seattle Works at Mt. Rainier August 7, 2009

   

WTA Trip Blog- Part One

It’s been about five years since I did trail work with the Rocky Mountain Youth Corps in Colorado, so when given the opportunity to lead a Seattle Works crew on a reconstruction project at Mt. Rainier, I jumped at the chance.  What better way to spend a weekend then working with good people in beautiful scenery?

10 of us set out Friday evening, equipped with S’mores ingredients, sleeping bags, and some of the most elaborate tents I’ve ever seen.  Reporting to the trail head on Saturday morning at 8:30 we met up with some other Washington Trails volunteers, as well as our fearless Trail Leader Yarrow and his second in command Lynn.  After our safety talk we were outfitted with hardcore green hard hats and off we went, tromping up the Glacier Basin Trail as it wound through old-growth forest to our first work site.  Project #1 was shoveling and hauling up loads of gravel from the river bed to backfill an already built rock wall and bring it up to tread.  An energetic and enthusiastic bucket line was formed that wound its way up the incline from the river to the wall.  Bicep-building for sure, but spirits were running high.  After lunch (and, we’ll admit, maybe a break or two) it was time to tackle a variety of little tasks that needed finishing along that section of trail.  A little after three we finished up hot, sweaty, and dusty, stored the tools and hiked back out to have some cool drinks and cookies (thanks WTA!).

After a strenuous but successful first day, some of the group opted to go for a hike, while others decided to bask in the sun down by the rapidly running, glacier-fed river coming down from the mountain.  And one person decided to actually get IN the water in a very shallow calm spot, even though it was honestly cold enough to make your bones hurt.   That night was dinner, which ranged from shrimp cooked over the fire, to plain turkey dogs, to my own TJ’s instant meal, and the most impressive, fresh Pad Thai made by our resident chef (which she graciously shared. Mmmmm).  Dinner was followed by plenty of S’mores (with milk and dark chocolate) and funny conversation around the campfire, until people decided to turn in with the realization that we had to get up extra early the next day to break camp before heading out to work.

Sunday was another scorcher, and the main activity for the day was wrestling with giant rocks as we worked on rebuilding a rock wall that had been hastily completed to move equipment through but wasn’t really sturdy enough.  If you’ve never had the opportunity to try to manipulate boulders that weigh more than you, well, maybe it’s time to start.  Plenty of breaks, Trader Joe’s Sweet, Savory, and Tart Trail Mix, and Yarrow’s bag o’treats kept everyone going, even though progress was a little slow.  Other projects for the day included ramping up some stairs and clearing out debris. 

Finally, we finished up the trip with a BANG- pulling the detonating string to explode some boulders that were in the path.  In a very safe manner.  It was pretty darn cool.

So a big thanks to my awesome crew, who made the weekend so much fun, as well as to Yarrow, Lynn, and WTA for helping make this project happen!  Anyone who’s interested in volunteering through them can check out www.wta.org for more information on this and other trail work parties.

Stay tuned for some blogs from the crew themselves!

And for more amazing photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/SeattleWorks.org/ST2009WTAMtRainierTrip#

From the field: working up a sweat in the Andes December 12, 2008

Greetings, my name is Thomas Buford and I have the privilege of telling you about a trip to Chinchero, Peru, that I shared with fourteen extraordinary people.  The trip, which lasted twelve days during November 2008, was a partnership between Crooked Trails, Seattle Works, and the Young Professionals International Network.  I have volunteered with Seattle Works programs for a couple of years and was made aware of this trip through the Seattle Works newsletter.  After discussing the trip with my wife, Laura, we decided that joining this adventure was an incredible opportunity that could not be passed up.  In retrospect, that was a great decision.

On paper, the trip sounded amazing: travel to the town of Chinchero, stay with a host family there, and work on a boarding facility for children so that they could attend the school in Chinchero.  The children’s current school day looks like this: wake up, walk one to two hours to school, spend seven hours at school, walk one to two hours home, work on their families’ farms in the afternoon, and then to sleep.  Obviously, these are not ideal conditions for the education of a child.  Add into this mix that many of the children are orphans and that the children’s nutrition in their villages is meager, it becomes clear that learning would be very, very difficult.

Enter our host family (and the heros of this story) – Paulino, Vilma, Faustina, Maria, Raul, Roxana, Franklin, and Chaska.  Paulino and Vilma saw this situation and did not sit idly by the wayside.  Instead, they took a step that few would make – they proposed to build an addition onto their home.  The addition would contain a room where fifteen children could sleep, a library where they could study, a computer center where their education could be enhanced, and a kitchen where they could be nourished.  With the help of a few previous Crooked Trails trip members, the dream started to become reality.  When we arrived in Chinchero, the walls, built from adobe, and a roof, built from bamboo and thatch, had been constructed.  It was our task to build the floor.

As we began our work, it became clear that construction in Chinchero is a little different: first, there are no machines and, second, Chinchero sits approximately 12,500 feet above sea level.  So, as we started to shovel out what seems now to be an impossible amount of dirt, we from sea level started to breath…and sweat…and breath more…and sweat more.  Despite being folks that mostly work in offices, my cohorts on the trip adapted and excelled.  They removed countless wheelbarrows full of dirt up a steep hill, laid tons of rock that will serve as a foundation for the floor, and mixed, wheel barrowed, and laid a massive amount of concrete for the floor.  Despite being tired, oxygen starved, and really dirty (especially you, Freddy), they always stood ready to do more.  The memory of the work we did together is one that will last for a long, long time.

As important as the work was, the people involved in this trip are what made it special.  First, the people on the trip, including our guide Todd, were incredible.  It was great to live with these folks for two weeks.  Truly remarkable, they are.  Second, Paulino and Vilma and their family are truly inspiring.  Despite the great vision they have shown and the sacrifices they are making, the family is humble and kind, warm and welcoming.  They took us into their home, fed us, sheltered us, and made us feel like a part of their family.  Maria’s cooking was the perfect antidote to tired feet.  Vilma’s laugh immediately lights up all around her.  Raul, Roxana, and Franklin’s loving care for their three year old sister, Chaska, was truly amazing.  Words do no justice to the beauty of this family.

Finally, one event on this trip was so unpredictable and so incredible that I am still a little unsure that it actually happened.  The day before we were to leave Chinchero, Paulino and Vilma took us to a village where eight of the children currently live.  We expected a quiet walk around the village and then quickly back to Chinchero.  Instead, as we approach the village, we are met by a roadblock: residents of the village, holding an arch of foliage, are blocking the way.  We disembark the vehicles and are met by song and ceremonial dance.  They guide us to a nearby field where we find that we have been set as the guests of honor at a celebration.  Almost all members of the village have gathered to celebrate the receipt of seven milk cows, a gift from Crooked Trails donors and previous travelers.  While we definitely got some credit for that gift that we did not deserve, it does not change the truly awe-inspiring nature of that afternoon.

We feasted on potato soup and cuy (read as guinea pig), danced with our hosts, blessed the cows, played games with the children, enjoyed an incredible amount of fellowship with all involved, and, finally, long after the sun had disappeared, danced all the way back to our vehicles.  The colors, sounds, sights, and tastes of that day are something I struggle to comprehend.  I still cannot believe that was an experience that I was lucky enough to have.

Looking back at this trip, I think the best single word to describe this trip is unique.  The people on the trip, the guide from Crooked Trails, Paulino and Vilma and their family, the work we did, and the people we met: each of these things is unique.  They cannot be duplicated.  I cannot imagine a better experience and I am very thankful for my ability to participate in such an incredible trip.

Reflections on the Peru Trip December 2, 2008

Many times I have heard the phrase, “You get what you give.” In special cases, however, you get much more than you could ever give. Our trip to Chinchero, Peru, drove home that point time and again. We worked to install a concrete floor in the boarding home for students over during our week in Chinchero. Though we worked extremely hard, I can’t help feeling like we received much more from the people of Chinchero and surrounding areas than we could have imagined.

Our host family – Paulino, Vilma, Faustina, Maria, Raul, Roxana, Franklin, and Chaska – opened their home, their way of life, and their hearts to us. It was such a treat to eat at one long table three times a day. I felt like I was part of a huge family, which is quite a change for this only child. The family’s generosity was just the beginning of the hospitality we would encounter. Almost everyone we met was quick to greet us with a “Buenos Dias.” The weavers at the weaving cooperative even graciously allowed us to fumble our way through weaving to better understand their craft.

The most amazing part of the week in Chinchero occurred during our last afternoon there. Paulino and family told us that we were going to meet some of the children who would be staying in the boarding house and attending school in Chinchero. Imagine our surprise when we were greeted with a full parade! Not only did we meet the children, but we ate with them, laughed with them, danced with them, and took about a million photos with them. The upwelling of emotions I felt that afternoon will stay with me for a long time.

Thanks to all of my travel buddies in Peru. I’m so glad I could share the journey with you. I tip my Cusqueña to you!

- Laura Skelton

We’re Back! December 2, 2008

It’s taken a little bit to travel from South America, catch up at work and jump into Thanksgiving, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t have a great trip and don’t have stories to tell.

I couldn’t have traveled with a better mix of Seattle Works folks. Seriously. I see a lot of teams and most are quite great.  I seldom get the chance to actually participate with them, but I also think few are put through the extremes of international travel, altitude sickness and excavating adobe mud.

All fourteen folks held in there, kept positive attitudes and were a genuine pleasure to travel with. I heart Seattle Works international volunteers.

On to the trip . . .

For starters, we landed in Lima and caught a flight to Cusco in order to acclimate to something like 12,000 feet (note, that’s just 2k less than Mt. Rainier).

Cusco is a beautiful city of around 600,000. Used to be the capital of the Inca civilization before the Spaniards took over. Most homesteads are built into the hills and literally flow down into a very vibrant town square. Don’t show up with your shoes dirty or you’ll be harassed until you finally cave in to the one sole-shoe shine.

You can find everything in Cusco from Peruvian Indian food (Indian food attempted in Peru – some ingredients can’t be found though so leaves a little to be desired) to pizzas, lots of pizzas, great Loma Soltado and high end American meals for 150 soles (think two people, great views, two top notch lamb/steak dinners and four drinks all for $50) and the Peruvian standard breakfast of rolls, butter, jam and cocoa tea (highly caffeinated, but great for altitude sickness). All good stuff.

On to Chinchero, our destination for the week. We were guests of Palino and Vilma, owners of the local weaver’s co-op and founders of the soon to be boarding home for orphaned teens. The government pays for school up to the grade 6, but continuing education is not a priority nor is it really possible for kids living in the outlying communities. Not only are they operating off of one meal a day, but it’s four hours round trip on foot to the nearest school which isn’t a great use of time when their help is needed in the fields.

Paulino and Vilma, organic farmers at heart, believe in the outlying community’s commitment to doing things by hand, but want to see the kids succeed as well. They will be hosting a dozen orphans at a time, supporting them through high school and teaching them traditional weaving techniques so that the kids might go back and share the trade with their families.

There are no written weaving instructions. The patterns are taught at a young age, passed through generations and shared at the co-op. We were treated to a dyeing and weaving demonstration our first day in the village. It literally takes one woman an entire month to weave a table runner by hand.

After lunch we took a hike and helped harvest some of the plants needed to dye the alpaca and sheep’s wool for yarn.

The second and third days we worked in Palino and Vilma’s home, excavating the back rooms recently added on for the soon to be students. We worked hard. I don’t say this lightly. I know that many o Seattle Works folks have been out on rainy days to remove many o bushels of ivy, but we were working at 12,000 feet. Even the most fit of us struggled walking the 200 steps it took to get from the weaver’s co-op to Palino and Vilma’s where the excavation was taking place.

We picked and shoveled tough mud, loaded it into wheel barrels, pushed it uphill (maybe another 100 feet of altitude gain and in case you haven’t caught on by now, every step matters . . . ) laid rock and poured cement. I was proud of our team. I worry that a few might have pushed too hard. Many were sick, some were sore, but all worked to their capacity and do so happily. 

Two days of hard work resulted in an afternoon biking treat. We rode through small villages and ended at the salt mines. It was beautiful.

That evening we celebrated 3-year-old Chaska’s birthday with cuy (guinea pig prepared mostly for celebrations . . .we all had at least a bite).

The next day was a complete break from work. I’ll let others comment on the baptism of our host family’s second son and the team’s visit to the Pisaq ruins. Some of us were too sick to stand let alone be guests/tourists at anything . . .

We worked for two more days and finally left to meet the kids the rooms were meant for. This is where I got my ass kicked. I was thinking, this has been a nice trip; I’ve had a few simple lessons, good observations, but nothing mind boggling or life changing. Much too quickly thought, much less written.

It started with a funeral procession. Our van paused on the side of the road to make room for the hallow faces walking, carrying a short coffin. Everything seemed to stop as we stared at them and they stared at us. They must have kept moving though because we were jolted by the sound of drums as soon as they had passed. It was eerie; a glimpse of what lies behind the seemingly happy, welcoming faces.

We of course took no pictures of this.

Then we get to the village where families live on next to nothing but were treated like esteemed guests. The entire community banded together to organize a huge welcome for us – we ate, drank and danced. They were actually thanking us for cows sent by a previous team of volunteers. Cows that will provided them with precious protein and hope.

The next days were more touristy in nature. We hiked 10 km of the Inca trail, learned about their ways, Spanish invasion and saw what’s left and is now being restored at Machu Picchu (pronounced peak-chu, the other way means “dick” according to our guide).

Nothing like being in a sacred place to wrap up a pretty incredible trip.

                                  

Gulf Coast November 3, 2008

Seattle Works recently sent its fifth (or sixth?) delegation of volunteers down to the Gulf Coast area to help with the continuing relief from Hurricane Katrina. It was an amazing trip…

Saturday, October 11: Eight eclectic and fearless Seattle Works volunteers left for New Orleans to volunteer with a group called Katrina Corps. After a day of travel, we spent Saturday evening getting to know our Katrina Corps hosts, Ray and Marshall, and went to a place called Bacchanal for an evening of wine and performances by New Orleans artists (blues, jazz, spoken word, etc). Sunday was devoted to getting the tourist-ish inclinations out of our systems, and we spent the day downtown: walking along the Mississippi, having beignets and cafe au lait at Cafe du Monde, watching some fantastic street performers, taking in the amazing architecture, buying souvenirs, and doing general sightseeing.

Work started Monday morning — we spent most of our volunteer hours that week working on a school in the Bywater (Upper 9th) District. The school had been abandoned since Katrina, and was being converted into a community arts center. We moved furniture, painted, scraped paint and grime off the floor, moved carpet tiles, swept, mopped, installed ceiling tiles and fans, and generally did what we could to move the building toward being ready for opening day, November 1. The work portions of our days were tough, but satisfying, and our group bonded over blue paint, grime-covered floors, inside jokes, and hastily-devoured lunches.

 

 

Marshall talked about how folks in New Orleans work hard and play hard… While the work we did on the school down there was the reason for our trip, we also took time to partake in culture and have FUN. Ray and Marshall were fantastic hosts, and took us to great spots in town we never would’ve found on our own. We had a fantastic dinner at Bennachin (a great West African restaurant), saw the Rebirth Brass Band (awesome show) at Preservation Hall, watched the third presidential debate at Miss Mae’s (one-dollar well drinks!), and had a crazy-fun evening eating crawdads and po’ boys at the Mother-in-Law Lounge (where we learned about Ernie K-Doe). We danced and drank and heard some fantastic music on Frenchman Street, center of New Orleans’ local music scene.

DEBATE WATCHING AT MISS MAE’S

PRESERVATION HALL

CAFE DU MONDE

We also had some amazing food-for-thought moments. I’m going to cut and paste from the blog of Patrick, our amazing and fearless team leader:

After we left our project today, we took a tour of the Lower 9th. I obviously have been there before, seen it, done it…but please don’t think I’m playing the drama card when I say that I was distressed by what I saw. It’s been over 3 years. 3 YEARS! Why aren’t these people back in their homes??? What is preventing us from accomplishing here what we are able to accomplish in Iowa after a flood, or in California after a wildfire? Why does an organization like this have to go out and cut the grass at a particular residence just to keep the city of New Orleans from serving a lien notice on the property? How is that right? And more significantly, why are we allowing that to happen? We have forgotten what is happening down here. Not what DID happen. What IS happening. When was the last time you heard a non-anniversary report about the recovery efforts? People like us are still needed. Desperately. People like us still have to take this story back, and tell people in our home towns that things are still not right in New Orleans. But don’t take our word for it. Come down and see for yourselves.

Through the week, there were hilarious and fun moments, and difficult and poignant moments. But I think we all left feeling the need for more. More for the people of New Orleans. More for those whose lives were turned upside down by a storm more than three years ago, and who are still living in limbo. I encourage anybody who has the chance to take a trip to New Orleans to do it. See what’s going on down there now. You’ll feel compelled to get involved, I promise.

Now for thank yous… Thank you to Jan for helping organize this trip. I know it’s a lot of work, but we are a better country for volunteer efforts like this, I’m convinced. Cheers to Seattle Works.

And thank you to an AWESOME team: Anna, Ashley, Beth, Bill, Erick, Kaitlin, Nia, Pam, Patrick, Ryan, & Scott. It was great getting to know all of you guys, and awesome working and playing hard, side by side with all of you, for the week.

And last, but not least… Thanks to Marshall and Ray for taking care of us, showing us around, and giving us information and experiences to help us absorb the profound-ness of what we experienced that week. It’s changed the way I see the world. And you guys rock.

New Orleans in July July 14, 2008

Posted by a volunteer who participated in our July volunteer trip in New Orleans.

You do not know what hot is until you swing a hammer with all your might for an hour in 90 degree heat and 60 percent humidity.  A person would have to be out of their mind to do this on their dime, for no pay, and with no hope of success.

We came down practically strangers to each other.  We joined a rag-tag operation that didn’t have money for shiny vans with logos, t-shirts, or swag.  We were refurbishing a three-story, 111 year-old school; a project that has no budget, no resources, and a deadline to be done by September when school starts.

It was nuts.

But on the first day, we all grabbed hammers and brushes and started doing what we could, with what we had.  And it was hot, insanely hot.

And at night we lamented our fate, laughed instead of cried, and got to making lemonade out of the hill of lemons we found.  The food tasted better.  The drinks were more refreshing.  You looked across the table and saw someone who knew your pain and was laughing with you.

It was New Orleans!  And we mixed our sweat with her soil, fed our blood to her mosquitos, and hopefully drank so much that those little leech-bastards flew right into the path of an oncoming bus.

But I digress.

In the lower 9^th Ward, we saw a rural-looking area of sparse houses and fields of waist-high grass.  This used to be a dense neighborhood of shotgun houses, packed like sardines.  This neighborhood had the highest homeownership rate in the USA – over half – and for many, these houses were the only bastion they had against destitution and ruin.

It’s gone now.  The neighborhood where families had lived for generations without ever leaving New Orleans has been destroyed.  When the waters crested at 26 feet in the wake of the Katrina floods, anything less than two stories was submerged.  Houses floated up off their foundations, were crushed by currents, or just so damaged that the only way to rebuild was to gut them to the studs and start over.

I heard a cabbie in the French Quarter calling the citizens of the 9^th Ward ‘lazy’, citing that “after Hurricane Betsy there was 8 feet of water in the 9^th Ward, and that the people stayed, worked together, and were nearly back to normal in three months.”

People don’t leave New Orleans.  Betsy was 40 years ago.  The ‘lazy’ people he was talking about are the same ones that rebuilt the city in 1965 too.

But the people who lived here have been scattered across the country.  There are no neighbors to “work together” with.  The insurance companies will not be paying for replacement homes.

The neighbors then, have to come from somewhere else.

 

“I don’t know if you know this, but July is STILL SUMMER in Louisiana.”  This was the most common reaction I got when I told people I was headed down to work with Katrina Corp in New Orleans.  And, unfortunately, what they imagined was pretty much the way it was.

But what they didn’t get to see was that it also allowed the best in people to come out.  Katrina Corp basically consists of two guys that came down from Michigan and dedicated their lives to helping heal the grieving city of New Orleans.  They get room, board, and $100/week.  They handle groups of a single volunteer, on up to 300.  If FEMA or Habitat or some other big name outfit gets stuck or can’t do something, Ray and Marshall jump into the breach.  And if nobody shows up to volunteer (like because it is the middle of July) no work gets done.

As a volunteer you get to see where your money is being spent: there’s the van, there’s the coolers and tools, and there’s the two guys that have been working on this school before you showed up and will be working on it after you leave.  Ray and Marshall are the epitome of volunteering and service; and for one ridiculously hot week in July, so were we.

When I look back on what we did without budget or t-shirts or fancy photo ops; but with only our backs, our hands, and our teamwork and desire, I have to believe in the impossible.  I was there and watched it happen.

To Alli, Ariel, Eleni, Karianne, Lee, Rebecca, Sarah, Stephanie, and Tammy:  You gave a damn and made a difference.  Thank you and it was an honor to serve beside you.  You are all heroes in my eyes.

To the rest, ‘impossible’ is still out there, but it’s not so sure of itself now.  Come down in October!

 

-Rian Booker