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WHAT'S NEW
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Building and bonding
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A construction novice lends her hands to Habitat for Humanity.
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By Sarah Hatten
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Hatten levels cement for the floor of a Habitat for Humanity home
Photo by: Norma Penner
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When the plane landed in Guyana a gentle rain was falling. The air was thick with humidity and the vegetation was plush and green. I couldn't believe I was really there - my South American adventure was about to begin.
Laying the foundation of a journey
Just five months before, Matt Rivard, trip organizer, an avid Habitat traveler and now my good friend, approached me and six others with the idea of participating in a South American build for Habitat for Humanity International. It's a not-for-profit organization that builds affordable housing all over the world, offering low-income families the opportunity to become homeowners.
Matt captivated us with exciting and touching stories from some of the past trips he had taken. By April 2004, the details were finalized and our team was destined for Georgetown, Guyana for a five-day stint as "construction workers" and two additional days planned for eco-tourism.
There were no experienced workers on our team; almost everyone was, like me, office nine-to-fivers. To say it would be out of the ordinary for me to hop a plane to Guyana and spend my vacation building houses is an understatement. The only "skills" I had to offer were my willingness to work and my enthusiasm - and as it turns out, that was all I really needed.
Challenges and successes
On my first day at the work site, I saw a muddy and waterlogged former rice field covered with the frames and foundations of numerous in-progress Habitat houses. It was impossible to imagine this was to become a neighbourhood where parents could raise their children someday.
This first day of the trip presented me with my biggest challenge - and eventual success - of the week. I found myself working with a crew that had little interest in me or any help I had to offer. There were apparent cultural barriers and stereotypes that both the crew and I needed to overcome. (It was difficult to understand one another's accents and women were generally not found on sites.) They gave me little work to do, leaving me feeling discouraged and unproductive, but I was compelled to persevere.
I forced myself to set aside preconceived notions about what I thought the experience should be and just embrace what it was. After some convincing, I was able to break communication barriers and a crew member put me to work hand-mixing cement. I would end up working harder than I had ever worked and I learned what it really meant to give and expect nothing in return.
Throughout the afternoon, I continued my efforts to get to know the crew, asking questions and cracking jokes. By the end of the day, I found myself talking and laughing with the crew as they accepted that I really had come to work. A new tone was set for the week. I proved to the crew (and myself) how much I was capable of and an unbelievable bond was the result. I could already feel my perspectives shifting and my life being changed. I was so far beyond my comfort zone that I knew my life would never be the same.
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