On Day 4, it was really amazing to see all of the progress being made on the houses. At this point, the walls were as high as they were going to get. It was time to raise high the roof beam (JD Salinger)!
At the start of the project, I believe that the volunteers were to get up high and install the roof. This didn’t happen, which I think was a good thing. The roof looked pretty tricky and judging from the razor thin edges of the metal composite, it could have resulted in some serious cuts.
The Cambodian tradesmen ended up doing all of the installing. Those guys were incredible workers and did all of their work in flip-flops. I have decided that Havaianas are the official “workboot’ of Cambodians. These guys spent the entire week working in them. No steel-toed work boots for them! One wrong drop of a 20-30 pound brick and kaput goes a foot. Anyway, it was amazing to watch them work from below and on top of the scaffolding. Despite their footwear of choice, the were crouching and walking on the metal roof beams as assuredly as I was in my shoes on solid ground.
At ground level, we were all engaged in various tasks – cleaning mortar off of the walls, repairing and filling in the gaps of mortar, painting, and building the front door entry steps.
As things were getting done, others went to the farm and pitched in at other areas. I went back to the brick factory, carting and making bricks. Again, sweaty girl.
On this particular day, it was a mix of energy. On the one hand, a sense of harriedness to get things done for the families and on the other, a sense of things starting to wind down in the project. Regardless of the energy one was feeling, I think there was a sense of accomplishment behind it and anticipation of meeting the family.
The mother of the daughter whose family would have the house was on site. We all initially thought that she was the owner and it wasn’t until the next day that we figured this out. In any event, she was present and so lovely. I get teary recalling this. She didn’t speak English, and my Khmer is rather poor, but beyond words at a deeper level, there was the understanding of incredible gratitude. One didn’t need words to feel this. She seemed to take a liking to me. I was hanging out in the back of the house when she showed up. It was like she imprinted on me as ducklings would to their mama. She kept touching me – my face, my arms, and when I was sweaty, she wiped my brow. It was sweet. A couple of us had our cameras (for me the iPhone) and she kept wanting pictures of herself with me and others. You could see she was emotional. I thought she was the would-be-owner and all along, she was a mother who was feeling the emotions of her daughter, son-in-law, and 2 grandchildren becoming homeowners. A family who would finally have decent and safe shelter and hopefully the opportunity to break some of the poverty. That’s what housing does people. The palpable emotion of what was within me and what was apparent in the mother was a sign of what was to come. I was not really in tune with how much emotion (for me anyway) there was and would be taken by surprise the next day.
While the families will have a small mortgage and will pay off part of their house through sweat equity through giving back to HFH, it will help to free them up to focus on other things.
Im going to switch things up a bit and stand up on a soapbox. I don’t mean to offend anyone, for these are my personal observations of my time here thus far. Imagine if you lacked housing, medical care, clean water, a clean society without a lot of trash in your environment, toilets and plumbing, proper roads and other important infrastructure, food, or a sustainable income…..
If anything, this project has really resulted in an altered perspective of what poverty entails in a third world country, a perspective I lacked if I am going to be truthful about this. There have been moments on this trip where I have been taken aback and shocked by what I have seen. Of course, I will never fully understand what poverty is because I’m not in this predicament, but it has raised the bar of my own consciousness as to what I have, and what people here don’t have. The sense of consumerism and entitlement in western society is shameful. I’m part of this and I’m worried about returning and stepping back into that. I’m worried about my reactions to people who whine. I only hope that I can retain in my mind’s eye what it is like here and use that to be selective about what I whine about. For example, my loss of pictures on my iPhone. Enough said….
The Travelling Psychologist 