Welcome

Memory is a funny thing: you can never forget what you wish never to remember, but what you most need and want never to forget is the first thing to vanish. This blog is something of a memory-keeper.

I, for one, have a difficult time keeping life in perspective. We live in a world that is simultaneously so many different realities that most of the time (for me at least) it's hard to remember the concerns and struggles of people living in what seems to be an entirely different world from the one I'm in. And so, if I am to keep some perspective, these memories are what I dare not forget.

Project: Forget Us Not, Part Two -- Miss Melanie's House

February 2007.

Miss Melanie Bass' house was the one of my group's projects that meant the most to me. I wasn't needed on this job until the third day of our stay, but I have pictures of the work that was accomplished during the first two days.

When we arrived, the house was a shell that needed to be gutted and rebuilt. I believe the only work that had been done on it before we arrived was some repair work on the frame; the house's interior needed to be completely redone.

This is the before shot:

The team's first day of work was essentially a demolition job.

Early on in the week, this is what the inside of the whole house looked like:
I don't pretend to know all the ins and outs of construction work, but I can tell you that during the five days we were at Miss Melanie's house, our team cleared out the rubble, sheetrocked the walls, did the electrical work and plumbing, as well as insulated the entire house. I'll make another entry for the pictures from our insulation work (those are the most fun) and sheetrocking, but for now, here are the after photos:

My sister happily modeling in Miss Melanie's closet.

The House in all its sunshiny glory:Isn't it beautiful?

One or two volunteers even made Miss Melanie a little garden under the front window.
Miss Melanie was all smiles at the end of the week. My only regret is that I couldn't give her a hug, because on the day we got to meet her I was on the insulation team and was covered in baby powder and shards of glass. Here's a shot of the lady herself (she's on the left):

Miss Melanie is a good note to end on. Next entry: photos of insulation and sheetrocking crews!

Project: Forget Us Not, Part One -- Volunteer Village

February 2007.

Everyone knows what happened in New Orleans when Hurricane Katrina hit, but has anyone heard of D'Iberville Mississippi? No? Not many have. Not even the Red Cross went there. Yet the inhabitants of D'Iberville also had their lives destroyed in Katrina's fury. Allow me to show you some pictures:

This past February, I, my father, my siblings, and some friends, boarded a Peter Pan bus filled with about 50 other people and set out on a 30-hour bus trip down to D'Iberville to spend a week doing relief work. We were told that we'd be staying in a camp called "Volunteer Village," but precious few other details were provided us (or at least me). After an excruciatingly long journey, this was our first sight of Volunteer Village:


All relief projects for D'Iberville are managed from Volunteer Village. Shortly after the hurricane, it became apparent to Miss Irene and the Mayor of D'Iberville that they couldn't simply have volunteers from all over waltzing in, doing whatever work they wanted, and disappearing. The relief effort needed structure and supervision. Volunteer Village was set up to provide the necessary structure to all relief operations.

The Village is set up on a converted baseball field, so facilities are extremely limited. A makeshift kitchen has been set up in the supply shed, an office has moved into the announcer's booth, and the volunteers' tents are lined up on the field itself. As for bathrooms...well...you know how many bathrooms are necessary for one little league field? That is precisely how few bathrooms there are to service the entire camp. Needless to say, lines are often very, very long.

It's a bit embarassing, but I'll show some pictures from when we dragged ourselves off the bus, our 30-hour prison.

Don't we look lovely. The numbers were so we could identify ourselves during roll call -- with that many people they had to be sure not to lose anyone when we went to dinner!

More sights of Volunteer Village:

You can see where the outfield grass starts!



Tents closeup.

Inside shots:

The boys' tent.
My tent (and yes, that is me in the baggy pants).

If there's one thing you learn on a trip like this, it's that everything you once thought of as a hardship is nothing when compared to the suffering the residents of D'Iberville have lived with for two years. Little problems like having to wait on line for the bathrooms, meals, showers, and pretty much everything, having to shower in a wooden trailer, and feeling your muscles ache after an eight-hour work day, are nothing more than petty complaints. The camp has a special department for petty complaints:

The Village's daily schedule goes something like this: 7AM wake up, 7:30AM breakfast is set out in the supply shed and everyone lines up, shuffles through the shed, gets what they want, and walks outdoors to eat, 8AM lunch is set out in the shed and everyone lines up for a second time, shuffles through, makes their sack lunch and marks it with their name, places it in the cooler belonging to their group, and boards whatever vehicle will be transporting their group to its work site, 5PM groups return to camp (if you're lucky...sometimes small groups of people would end up working well into the night if projects absolutely had to be finished that day), 6PM dinnertime, 7PM camp meeting, 10PM lights out. (I might be half an hour off with that schedule -- but it's something like that.)

This is the food shed:
The breakfast line! It moves pretty quickly, believe it or not.

I have no idea why it says "office" on the wall.

Our group was given two major projects: the reconstruction of Miss Melanie Bass' house, and the rebuilding of a local church. Many members of the community actually requested that the church be rebuilt before their homes because they said the church was the heart of their community and they would rather have that back than their own homes. My future posts will contain pictures of each of these projects.

I like this last picture as a benediction:

I don't know who the Presbyterians were who put that sign up, but I love the message: Out of Chaos, Hope.