A Good Start.

A wing and a prayer.

Punta Cana, Dominican Republic – Upon asking for a window seat on the flight down, we were pleased the Air Transat representative put us at the back of the plane, where seats were two-across – as opposed three elsewhere. 

It got better.

Shortly before liftoff, the steward visited us to ask if we minded relinquishing our seats and moving up to the emergency exit row, where a 75-year-old woman with limited mobility had inexplicably been assigned. 

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he promised. 

Now, I'm 6"3 and Transat planes aren't exactly built with leg room in mind, so I was already giddy at the prospect of being able to stretch out for the four-hour flight.

When the steward returned with a bottle of champagne for each of us, it was obvious the stars had aligned in our favour.

Brevity III.

No home, but a boat, no longer afloat, on an otherwise empty lot.

poseidon, enraged
The city disappeared
in spinning ghosts of wind;
half, never to re-emerge
from under Poseidon’s trident.

A softer whisper
carries the mournful cry
of brass,
still strong in its sadness.

Yet now, the ghosts seep still
from the crevices
of lonely, misshapen timber
of homes
since forgotten.

Nacho Regular Reflection.

A week of teamwork turned this lumber into something tangible.

New Orleans, LA – “I’ve ministered all over the world – from Africa to Haiti – but in a minute, the third world came to us,” said Pastor Randy Millet of the immediate and continued devastation of his city.

As ever, his eloquence was spellbinding. In a paean to seize the moment and create change, Pastor Randy spoke of how we generate snapshots in time in our lives and that he hoped our experience in New Orleans had become one for us. Heads nodded in unison. With that, he urged us to take the lessons we had learned home with us, to become successful and to remember to continue to give back to – and build – our communities. More nods of promise.

Despite the obvious nature religion plays in the Pastor’s life and words, the lessons he imparted perfectly encapsulated ASB’s objectives of learning from the communities in which we are working, incorporating this knowledge into our own lives and sharing it with others.

Having bid a fond farewell to Pastor Randy, we continued with ‘Nacho Normal Reflection™’ – our final team reflection session, led by Tyler and Katie, over a dinner of nachos for 40. Yes, that did, in fact, include eight pounds of ground beef, an equal amount of grated cheese and a dozen large bags of chips.

The mental commitment to reflection after hard days of physical labour has become one of this team’s hallmarks. Not only willing to share deep, personal emotions, team members have consistently offered extremely profound and thought-provoking observations that have generated emotion-filled conversations. There was no shortage of tears, reciprocal hugs, smiles and ponderous looks. It is obvious we have been tremendously affected by the people and devastation of New Orleans, and by the strength and friendship of our own teammates.

I feel extremely privileged to have experienced the bond and trust that formed so quickly with this team. That alone has been reflection worthy for me.

Now for 20 more hours on a bus, a return home and some tough goodbyes.

For now.

Music to our Ears.

A jubilant team and homeowner on the last day.

New Orleans, LA – The strains of Brooks & Dunn’s “Proud of the House we Built” breathed poignantly across the worksite as we approached the 4 p.m. deadline on our last day. It was both fitting and serendipitous.

Not to mention emotional.

As with all week, we had pushed hard throughout the day, installing tin flashing onto the cinder blocks to prevent termite damage, and both building and installing the subfloor. As we toe-nailed boards into place, heads popped up through the framework like a whack-a-mole game at the carnival. The rhythmic drumming of hammers on wood blended with strikes on flashing that was reminiscent of steel drums in the Caribbean. It was music to our ears.

Adrenaline and energy had begun to flag after a long week of steady days spent lifting, hammering, mixing concrete and digging in the heavy heat of N’awlins, but we still had our eyes on one last target that would help illustrate our progress.

Walls.

So, with the country tune in our ears, we hefted two of the exterior walls we had built earlier in the week onto the freshly built floor and nailed them into place – wearily raising our arms in victory. With that, the homeowner, Joyce, began to cry. Her home at 4768 Flake Street was very much becoming a reality.

At the end of the day, it was but a small step in helping rebuild the city, but to Joyce – and to our team – it remains a very significant feat indeed.

Magic.

Brevity II.

Far too many homes lay empty like this one.

in frame
Piles of photographs of homes
erased from lots,
lonely,
lying fallow beside
shattered shelter
formerly

what brought photographs
to life
and life to photographs.
 

the cross
Leaning houses, tattooed
like genocide survivors,
a constant reminder
with every cross
of the threshold.

The cross lays crooked
on the living room wall,
worn brown and faded
like the vibrancy
that once lived here.

Stilled, but smiling,
Steeled, but rising.

Cementing a Reputation.

The new house is being built beside and abandoned one.

New Orleans, LA – As we raised pillars of cinder blocks – which came to be named ‘Cindy’ by many of our crew – the bubble in the level danced animatedly.

All the while, the incessant, high-pitched beep of the laser level chided us for having too much or too little mortar in our stacks of five blocks. After the first, third, fourth and fifth, we would beckon the measuring team – “Major Laser!” – who would carefully scrutinize our ability to spackle mortar between the heavy blocks.

Add or subtract, mix mortar and repeat. This house must be level.

After several days of heavy lifting and the repetitive motion of hammering, today was an exercise in precision for many. For others, there was still the thankless, but necessary, task of digging out the wooden framework that had been used to form the foundation.

While Habitat for Humanity has not traditionally built foundations themselves in this area – opting instead to hire contractors – they have begun to do so to save costs for homeowners and themselves. This, in turn, allows them to build yet more homes. At the end of the day, that is, of course, the whole point.

Despite having had a short day that ended at 2:30 p.m., we became the first group this chapter of Habitat has had complete all of the house’s pillars – which will hopefully minimize damage in the event of another flood – in one day.

Our reputation with the Habitat team was solid before, but really cemented with our effort today. *Groan*. (Yes, it has been a week of construction-related puns and jokes.)

A Strong Foundation.

Tyler makes the sparks fly, cutting rebar.

New Orleans, LA - Building, day two: More lumber, more lumbering across the lot with materials in hand. More hammering, more door frames, more excellent energy - paired with improved tool skills.

More cowbell.

But then, the day changed as the concrete truck arrived and unfurled like a praying mantis, breathing life into the house's foundation. Made smooth, we had built the base of not only a house, but someone's home and, hopefully, a small piece of a new New Orleans.