Costa Rica Day 9 to the End

Day Nine

Went for a walk this morning before breakfast, it's amazing that there are some really nice houses tucked in between the grotty ones. All the same they are covered with steel cages.  Property theft is rife out here. Even in the town where we are staying the infrastructure is very run down.  You can't take your eye off the pavement for a second or you will be down a hole.

After Breakfast of (you've got it, rice and beans) we headed out to the church and church school to help with some maintenance work. Whilst a couple of the guys and myself put up a stud wall in one of the classrooms, the others got stuck into the painting of the church walls (internal) pink, can you believe it, pink walls in a church and it's not even in Tudley. (http://www.tudeley.org/allsaintstudeley.htm) the church there has windows by Marc Chagall, I believe a kid with a felt tip pen could do a better job, but that's just my opinion.

Lunch at the church and more DIY. I was amazed that no other locals were there to help us, or us to help them. I would have thought that the  Pastor would have arranged a work party but no, just us and a few of the church organisers .

After we finished up there, we went to the ghetto where most of the kids that go to that school live. It was grim. They are living in tin or wooden sheds. But I am starting to struggle with this. Yes it is a poor country, but the more I see of it, the more materialistic I am beginning to find the people. And all for the wrong reasons. They have no idea about financial matters, they take loans at 50% interest to buy items they do not need.  They live in terrible conditions but they all have TV, mobile phones, stereo systems and even Xbox's or similar. Some have cars that are wrecks but fitted with alloy wheels and loud exhausts.

I'm struggling with it because I can't reconcile it in my mind, do these people want help or just handouts so they can buy more "stuff". I don't necessarily mean the family we are building for as they have nothing at the moment anyway and at least the guy is working nights at the Coca Cola factory and then working on his house with us during the day. But the woman who prepares our lunch and coffee etc, she has a Habitat house which does not have a lot in it, but it does have the TV, stereo etc.

It probably sounds as though I think they shouldn't have anything at all, that's not what I mean and I don't feel that I am explaining it very well. (please note that this is one of my early trips and just getting a feel for this type of community. You will note a change in my attitude as we progress)

Day Ten

Sunday, day of rest. After breakfast we headed for the beach at Jaco in two mini buses. It took a couple of hours including a stop for a coke and a look at the crocodiles in the river. When we arrived it was about 12:45.  Moma D and I headed for the beach bar closely followed by the rest of the team.

I had the enchilada el polo, a refreshing change from the food at the digs. Whilst others went for a walk on the beach I stayed at the bar and had a couple of bottles of beer. They soon returned and joined me. After we watched the  sun set it was time to head home stopping at a roadside bar for dinner. This was late for the Americans 19:45.

I find the food in CR very bland. The Tex Mex enchilada was the best meal so far. The salads at the work site are good but I wish she would make more guacamole.
So here we are back at base and everyone has disappeared off to bed, well it is 20:45 and breakfast is at 07:00.

Had a chat with Terry about my thoughts and troubles reconciling the value of the trip in my mind. I found out he felt the same way about Portugal. It was interesting hearing his  reasons and discussing our thoughts. Unfortunately it did not help with my struggles  as far as Costa Rica is concerned , I shall just have to work on that.

Day Eleven

As soon as we got to site, two of us started shovelling sand into barrows whilst another took them down the hill. Soon a tractor with a trailer arrived. Between the two of us and the young guy who's house we are helping to build, we loaded about 6 ton of sand into the trailer. My shoulders are aching a bit now.  The sun was blazing down and we were working without shade.

Once full, the tractor took the load down the hill but was unable to tip it because  the angle of the hill was greater than his tipping angle. We had to unload part of the load and then help push the trailer up at the front whilst the driver used the ram. It worked at last and the load was delivered.

The others in the team were laying blocks and mixing mortar.  I made up some wooden jigs to help fill the gaps with mortar. (I learnt that on the Portugal trip) . So the day went on until lunch time, hot and sweaty. We broke for lunch and once again the heavens opened. I doubt there will be any mortar left in the joints by the time we get back down there tomorrow.

Marisa is the woman who prepares our lunch,  she made, on special request from myself, Guacamole, Sainsbury eat your heart out, this stuff is the best. I shall try to get the recipe.

Day Twelve

Started late for some reason. The weather was hot. Well there's a surprise. We got two rows of blocks up and concreted in the base blocks. It was hard going but we were on a time line as the rains don't give up here. Rained off at 14:00.

Got back to the digs and found I had a signal, 987 e-mails later I lost the signal so I will still have to go to the  Internet café.

Day Thirteen

We arrived at site a bit early today as it is the last full working day on site. Everyone was eager to get stuck in. Ken had a bet on with another team member that they would get to 5 rows high. I think a large steak was on the table. (That's beef not cash).   Well after a very hot start we made it to 5 high in one section and 4 in the rest (external only) inner walls were at 2 high.

Again we were rained off at lunchtime. This was a disaster as it was our last day. Fortunately we took the group picture just before the rain started. Tools cleaned and away for the last time, we headed back up the hill to the bus and home.

In the evening we all met in the dinning area of the digs along with the young couple who will eventually move into the house, (they are the couple in the centre of the picture above) some Habitat personnel, Merrisa who prepared our lunch and a few more invited guests. After the speeches and presentations, thank you's and goodbye's, karaoke was the order of the night.  That was until 21:00 hrs as you now know Costa Rica shuts at 9.

This was my first visit to a Central American country. My third Habitat Global Village trip as a team member. I will post my second trip next as I forgot about Sri Lanka. I believe as I took on more projects and visited more and varied countries, my whole perception of what we were doing, and why, changed. These trips had such a  profound effect on me that it changed my life (for the better, I believe). It made me more empathetic towards the problems in our world. More tolerant of others. It made me examine myself and my life, so much so that I changed parts of it. After 5 trips as a team member I decided to become a team leader and went to Chicago to take part in the TL training program. That was in 2008. It is now 2012 and I have completed 14 trips to date with another due in a couple of months (December) and two already booked for 2013.

My next posting will be Sri Lanka  June 2006.

Costa Rica days 5 to 8

Day Five

We worked hard today, the ground was still wet and heavy, when we thought we had all the foundations dug, Fabio the main man marks out another trench. It was hot and heavy. That was until about 12:15. We could see the dark cloud approaching from the east. It didn't look that heavy, in fact I thought it would pass over. But Fabio said it was about to rain. The wind started and apparently it was being pushed by the rain. The trees started to rock and Fabio said we had two minutes to get the tools into the hut and clear out. Many of us thought he was being a bit over enthusiastic, but two minutes later the heavens opened. We made it up the hill to the house outside which we were to have lunch. Even under the gazebo (for want of a better description) the water was driving in from the side. We stood our ground and had the best guacamole I have ever tasted.

When it rains it rains

After some time we decided that it was not going to stop. And called the bus to collect us. The day was over. At least it gave me the opportunity to get into the Internet café.

Following dinner (rice and chicken bits in some kind of sauce) we adjourned to the  seating area outside our rooms. Their is a religious discussion going on around the table and I'm plugged in at a side table writing this. Before that I was being beaten at connect four by  Debbie the young  11 year old daughter of Dave & Maurine. Debbie is cute, I let her win really ( I did, would I lie).

Dorothy (the 70 year old) is now known as Moma D, she is awesome on site. If she is not an ambassador for  HfH Global Village I don't know who is. I wish a few more 70 year olds could take a leaf from her book.

Day Six

Short day today. Really hot in the morning digging trenches. A lot of time spent digging out the infill from the storm. The first truck arrived and reversed down the track, bad move. He tipped his load of gravel / stone and then tried to get out. No way. Finally a tractor had to tow it out. Then the truck with the blocks, cement, timber and re-bar arrived. He had the idea that if he drove down the other track he would have more luck.

This one required towing out of here

We just got the cement off (50kg bags) and stored in the bodega before the rain started. We all lined up and started to get the blocks off before it got too bad. The line broke up as people decided they didn't want to get wet so those of us left, unloaded the rest beside the truck so that they could get away. No chance.

They tried all ways to get out but got nowhere. During this time Ken and I carried on shifting blocks from the side of the track to the building area whilst the others ran for cover. The rain was so refreshing we didn't want to give up. The tractor came back and tried to pull the truck out, forwards backwards even sideways when it slid into the trees. At some point the axle started to make a terrible noise.

We vacated the site and headed home. in the evening we went to a restaurant up in the hills. The rain had stopped and the views over the valley were spectacular. All the lights from the villages and towns looked like stars on the ground.

Back to the digs by 19:00 a late night again. Moma D and I sat up and chatted until about 22:00, that's more like it. Slept well after that.

Day Seven

My guess was correct. I thought we would find the truck still stuck on site, we did. Brilliant sunshine again this morning, very hot. At least we didn't have any trenches to dig today. We started on the re-bar, bending and tying, to make the sections needed for the foundations and the uprights. By midday another tractor arrived and pulled the truck out. Other team members were shifting sand and gravel to start on the concrete foundations when (you guessed it) the rains came.

Moma D and I carried on with the re-bar for a while but it was lunch time and we were called up to the road for lunch. Great salad and plenty of it. The rain didn't recede so time was called and we headed home. On the way we saw the truck being rear end lifted, I suspect the axle had broken.

Internet cafe and then dinner at 18:30 finished by 19:00. Tonight it may be early but I am brain dead.

This trip is so different from Sri Lanka, and Portugal. Obviously the culture and the climate, but we are not as close to the people and culture as we were in Sri Lanka. That's not to say I am not enjoying it because I am, I think I am just frustrated with the weather and the lack of progress. The team are good and the banter between us is fun. I even had a lengthy theological discussion with Dave this afternoon. (yes I know I am a none believer but that doesn't stop me enjoying the discussion) He is a good guy to talk with, very knowledgeable.

Geoff the farmer is a great laugh. He reminds me of all the old cowboy film wagon train cooks. full of stories. Bob is a quiet guy, he has also had a heart bypass and some other heart surgery so I try to keep an eye on him. He is so willing that he even tried to shift a 50k bag of cement. I stopped him just in time, but he is there whenever work is handed out.

Bob's daughter, Christine came to the site with us today, a good worker and very willing so long as it was working in the sun. She was after a sun tan. Probably rust first.

The foundations when dry (which wasn't often)

Day Eight

Hot does not begin describe it, we started with the wire & re-bar. I then moved on to mixing concrete and barrowing it to the trenches. Even though it was sweltering hot, the ground was like a bog. I was up to my ankles in it and trying to get a wheel barrow through it was impossible. After I improvised a runway with bits of tin and some scrap wood we carried on. Giovani (yes he is Costa Rican) worked with us today, he is our driver. Also Randal, an ex Habitat worker came to help, boy was he a strong young guy, The two Fabio's worked in the trench setting out the vertical re-bar and the whole thing seemed to come together. We were all working our buts off and at last we appeared to be getting somewhere.

There is so much re-bar used because of the constant threat of earthquakes. It's in the foundations, up through the walls at each corner and at intervals along the length. It is also used to form a ringbeam under the first block and again at 4 high. I assume they run another at 8 high but we never got that far.

Lunch was as good as usual and afterwards Dave, Ken and myself dragged barrows up the hill to load with sand. That was hard enough but trying to get back down with a full load was virtually impossible and back breaking. We made two loads each and that was enough to keep us going. I'm hopping someone else will get the rest down by the time we return on Monday.

We made up another batch of concrete and just got it laid before the heavens opened. It can certainly rain here. It was a shame it all had to end as we were doing so well.

Not so much contact with the local people as there was in Sri Lanka, I miss that kind of contact, I feel that as we don't get out in the evening and only mix with ourselves, I am missing a lot of cultural contact. The team are an interesting bunch and I thoroughly enjoy our discussions and listening to their stories but I still feel like an outsider as it is very much a closed group. I think Ken feels the same way. He bought his trip in an auction at his local church, not sure if he is enjoying it too much. Although he is from the same area in the US as the rest, he frequents a different church.

Local kids having fun during our break time

After we returned to the digs and cleaned up, some of us visited the market. That's not before the storm knocked all the power out. The thunder clap was directly overhead. The vegetables and fruit made a wonderful display. It was good to have Alex along to explain what the items were and what you did with them. Pity I can't bring some of this stuff home.

Dinner was at 18:00. (it's getting earlier) pasta tonight with garlic bread. After dinner we visited the church where the woman from the team had been working with the kids all week. I was impressed with the display of singing. Then there was the certificates to hand out and a few thank you's. It was all quite interesting.

Tomorrow we are going back to the church to help with some decorating and repairs. Not back to the work site until Monday.

Costa Rica Day Three

Day Three.

Awoke about 06:00 hours. Dozed until about  07:00 then got up showered (now that's another experience). Left my room mate sleeping and adjourned to the area outside the room and completed my day two blog.

It's Sunday, breakfast was served at 08:00. Solid scrambled egg and rice with a slice of cheese on the side. There was also a slice of meat, looked like tongue, it remained on the plate.  Time to meet the rest of the team. Even though we met at the airport, everyone was beat and just disappeared into their room as soon as we got to the accommodation. Dave and Maurine I had met before in Washington. The rest I only knew from their bio's. Ken is my room mate, young guy sleeps a lot, missed breakfast. As the day turned out he missed lunch as well, I finally found him in the room watching TV, that was at about 15:00 hrs.

I was expecting the town to be more Spanish, I don't know why I should think that but I did and it isn't. There are no bars with tables outside. In fact there are very few bars. After walking a few hundred meters I could see why. I stepped over three bodies at different intervals, sprawled across the side walk, (American already). The only way I new they were alive was the twitch they had .
Every property has iron bars protecting it. The steel industry must do really well here. The roads have open drainage along the edge at least 300mm deep. You can't park too close to the side or you drop in. Crossing the road you take your life in your hands, pedestrians do not have right of way. The cars are noisy, they have the same youth culture with regard to cars as we do, loud exhausts and booming music all from cars that look as if they are held together with sticky tape.

Being Sunday it is fairly quiet. I walked into the centre where the cathedral sits next to the central park. The people where spilling out of the doors, this is a very religious nation. I walked from one end of town to the other and from one side to the other and back to the park. Sunday is a family day as most people work a six day week. The park became a promenade, locals dressed in their finest, walked there children back and forth, people watching made easy. I sat there for some time just soaking it all in.

The local chapter of the Hells Angels arrived in a noisy parade and parked outside the cathedral. It's the same the world over. Line the bikes up so they look good, stand around  and look adoringly at your bike. When you know everyone has seen you, you move on.

The streets look very much like American streets that I have seen before,  in Upper New York State and on TV. The kind of hick places you associate with downtown . Plenty of rubbish, mainly in the crevasses left in the damaged pathways and the poles every few meters with all the electricity and telephone cable attached and draped across the street.

The team met for lunch at 13:00m (except Ken my room mate) Potato and Rice. I was in a minority when it came to voting on  setting a time for dinner. Being European I suggested 20:00 to 20:30 thinking I was being considerate towards the Americans. I was out voted, dinner will be at 18:30 and that was a concession to the Big Brit. (me)

Following lunch we had an orientation meeting with the Habitat representative. Do's , don'ts and a program for the work schedule (that's schedule not skedule I'm not that American yet).  The building has not been started yet, virgin ground to be broken, so digging , re-bar, and concrete pouring are on the agenda. The site is about 45 minutes out of  town in a village called Gresia and we start at 07:30 on site. So up at about 05:30. I can't wait. I sometimes feel the waiting about before hand is harder than getting stuck in.

It's 17:40 here that's 23:40 at home. My body clock has adjusted  so I'm on CR time. The guys are playing some kind of card game (cards and dice) they are making a lot of noise and it sounds like there is one who keeps winning. I hear the rest complaining about how much they have lost.

I'm here in the corner plugged in and typing away. I haven't got over lunch yet and in 45 minutes it's dinner time.

Over lunch I had a brief conversation with another team member Geoff. A retired farmer from up on the Washington / Canadian border. I was intrigued by his story about mules and donkeys. He packs his mules and he and his wife head into the mountains camping  for months at a time.  I asked the difference between a donkey and an ass. He replied  "one is human".  The other person who interests me is a retired woman of  70  who worked in education, nursing and then in the peace corp. The only part of the world she has not been to is Antarctic and Russia. She is also the only woman in the team that is working on the build whilst the others minister to the children of the ghetto. More about her later.

Day Four.

We arrived on site at about 07:30. The local contractor had started to set out the foot print. It wasn't long before we started digging, and we didn't stop until lunch time and carried on after lunch until 16:00 when rain stopped play.

We met the family who will be taking on the house when it's completed. A young couple with two children. They currently live in a shack. The plot is situated behind a few other houses built by Habitat a year ago along a track leading into the sugar cane and coffee fields. If I thought the living conditions were grim for the Costa Rican families, the Nicaraguans in the area for the coffee picking are even worse off.

They reminded me of the accommodation that the hop pickers used to live in. (Hop pickers used to come from London to Kent and stay for the season, whole families picking hops for the breweries) They look like stables with families living in an area about 80 sq feet. Toilets in a block and washing from one tap at the end of the row.

One of the families who are living in a local Habitat house provided the lunch. You've got it, rice, but it was good with home made lemonade. This is a dry team. There are no bars near our accommodation and the town shuts down by 19:00. Even the Internet café shuts at 19:00. Looks like I'm the only team member that fancies a beer after a days work, so there is no beer run as in Sri Lanka.  (How crazy of me, I forgot that I had been to Sri Lanka before this trip, I will make it the next adventure to publish)

Dinner was at 18:30 and it's now 19:30. Dinner is over and we are back in the accommodation. Plenty of time for me to write this rubbish.

It's not the sort of town you can go for a walk in. So I'm told, and I was warned against it.

In the afternoon we had an audience on site as the children returned from school. They all lined up along the ridge behind us and just watched, not sure what they thought we were going to do, we were just digging trenches. We got all around the outside walls and started on the inner foundations. Tomorrow will be more of the same. They say we will be block laying by Friday. That's more like it, I much prefer building to digging but you have start with the digging to get to the building.

The journey to site takes about 45 minutes and is quite breathtaking as the roads snake through the mountains , the mist hanging in the valleys like curtains.  The ride home was spectacular with the rain lashing down and the roads hardly visible. It didn't seem to phase the drivers though, slowing down wasn't an option.

The team worked well and Geoff and I had a good system going. Geoff is 68 but certainly not work shy. Dorothy is the name I couldn't remember yesterday. Much like Tanya in Sri Lanka she too, didn't flinch at the work load. She is 70 years old and certainly had no problem getting her hands dirty. She apparently built her own house in the States.

Ken (the youngest member) was plugged into his mp3 player all day, We  had to shout every time we wanted to catch his attention. We are sure he was the reason the young girls were watching the proceedings. As you can expect, he is taking some shtick from the rest of us, but he's a good player.

Terry is his usual self. Pick up a shovel when the cameras come out and spend the rest of the time talking to everyone he can. He doesn't do much manual labour but he sure keeps us all entertained and playing as a team.

Mike, who I met when visiting Terry in Washington is a very dry character with a great sense of humour. Very quietly spoken so I find it difficult to hear him all the time but he and Terry have a terrific relationship, the banter has everyone in fits.

So tomorrow is another day and I'm sure it will be another hard one so I'm going to crash out. 20:00 hours, what am I doing. This is unheard of. Must be my age.

To be continued...........

Costa Rica

I didn't keep a journal of the Portugal trip so the first one to be written up was Costa Rica.

 Day One,

Best laid plans and all that. It was all going well, got to the airport in time. Check in smooth, even got the last seat with leg room on the plane. Queued half way around the airport to get through security but it was pretty painless and quite fast. Caught up on the people watching. VIP lounges are great, free coffee cake etc, quiet seating areas with no kids or football shirts but also no people watching. Still can't have it all I suppose.

Got on the plane to find I had only one other passenger in a row of six, so much for the last seat.  Eight hours later I arrive in Newark. This is when it started to all go wrong. The flight arrives late.

Anywhere else in the world they check your baggage through to your destination and you don't even need to enter the transit country. But this is the USA. Fill in immigration forms, one green and one blue, may need a white one but the stewardess wasn't sure so fill it in anyway. Get through customs after giving the required finger prints and mug shot. And that's just to pass through. Collect luggage  after waiting a lifetime for it to arrive on the belt. But there's no rush because I've missed my connection anyway.

So to cut a long story short, instead of me being in a nice quaint little Costa Rican hotel in San Jose,  here I am at 03:45 USA time lying in a smoke impregnated bed in a smoke impregnated room in a Sheraton hotel in downtown Newark. That's  08:45 GMT time. I think I will die of cancer from just inhaling the air in this room.

I am booked on the 08:00 flight in the morning, 2 hour check in, that's 06:00, transit to the airport runs every half hour so that's 05:30, I will skip breakfast even though it's paid for by Continental airlines, so it must nearly be time to get up and start the next leg of this journey. I should arrive in San Jose at 12:29. I spoke to Terry (Mateo my trusty team leader) last night and he is meeting me at the airport. He also kindly canceled my hotel in SJ.


Day Two

Having spent the night in a hotel in Newark instead of San Jose, I was up early to catch the shuttle bus to the airport.  Arrived, checked in through security (paranoia abounds) I headed for the gate, only to be told that I was going to be transferred to a flight that leaves late afternoon and arrives in San Jose at 21:30 hours. After a short, but to the point discussion, they kindly let me remain on the 08:00 flight. After some confusion and a wait on the tarmac for 45 minutes so that a crew member could go and buy some hand wash soap for the toilets, we took off just over an hour late. And Continental Airlines is the best in America so I'm told. This does not say much for the rest. Following a cramped flight with a child screaming for 4 out of the 5 hour journey, I arrived in San Jose to be greeted by  Terry "Mateo" Mattson, a welcome sight.

Alex's (Terry's wife who happens to be Costa Rican)  brother was to be our chauffeur for the rest of day. We headed off to San Ramone stopping at a little café on the way for a bite to eat.  I couldn't understand a thing on the menu. Not your normal Spanish fair, everything was made from corn. After what appeared to be a corn pancake with sour cream and cheese washed down with a juice made from who knows what but very tasty, we continued our journey.

First impressions are that the country is very green and lush, but then it is the rainy season. Even as we left the airport the ramshackle buildings made of blocks, pallets and tin roofs start to appear along the side of the roads. As ramshackle as they were they had iron bars surrounding them. I am told that theft, even of the smallest and most worthless item is rife here.

There are Gauchos (I think that's how you spell it) men on horseback riding along the edges of the sugar cane fields about 20 feet from the Pacific Coast Highway. And we think the M25 is bad, this is just one long queue of trucks the size of apartment buildings, cars (mostly  four wheel drives) and anything else that has wheels.

The rain started when we where about half way through, stopped by the time we arrived.  After checking into the hotel, well that's what they call it but it's a room with a shower, pure luxury and a great host.  Pleased I brought the sleeping bag, the sheets and cover look a little past their sell by date.

At about 20:30 the bus arrived to take us back to the airport to collect the rest of the team. Terry and Alex headed into the airport and the driver and I headed for a space to park up and get some sleep. I grabbed the  back seat but even then the bus wasn't wide enough but I must have slept for an hour at least.

At about 22:30 we headed back to pick everyone up and on to the hotel. I hit the bed (in my sleeping bag) and I don't remember anything else until morning.

To be continued.................

Its Still 2004

Its still 2004 I searched through the list of destinations on the Global Village section of the Habitat for Humanity web site and decided that I would go to Bolivia. This from someone who to date had only travelled throughout Europe. I had been on a few family holidays and flown to various European countries on business, never staying too long in one place, never getting to know the country or the people, although I always felt that I should.

In 2000 I rode my motorcycle (no not a Harley D but a 200 mph crotch rocket) through Spain and spent time getting to know a little about the country and the area in which I travelled. Taking this trip on my own meant that I could spend as much or a little time in one place as I felt necessary to get my fill of the culture. All in all it was a poor attempt. I loved the ride and the solace, the people and the countryside, but it wasn't enough to quench that thirst for adventure and travel.

So Bolivia looked good, a country that I new little about but had heard the stories, Butch Casidy and the Sun Dance Kid etc. But then uncertainty set in, what if I couldn't handle spending 2 weeks with a group of people I had never met. Flying half way around the world and getting stuck in a situation that I could not handle. What would I do then? Cut and run? It was a long way to run.

So I decided Portugal was a better option, (or was that the soft option) only just down the road in relative terms. I was here in the UK, cheap flights or even road links. I thought I might ride the bike down and spend my two weeks working on the project and ride back. If the build was not as enjoyable as I would have hoped, the ride certainly would be. A win win situation. Or so I thought.

The first step was to contact the team leader and apply to take part in his project. Terry (Mateo) Mattson was his name, (unchanged because he deserves a mention) lived in Bellingham, Washington State USA. I sent an e-mail which was responded to in double quick time. This was followed by more e-mail's, questions, and answers.  I got a feeling about this guy, I figured I would like him, we built up some kind of relationship even though we had never spoken directly, it was an e-mail relationship at this point.

For whatever reason he decided I was a suitable candidate for his team,
little did he know.    I Can't remember what month in which all of this happened. But the project was due to start in May/June.  I looked into ferries and fares to various ports and planning routes across France, Spain and Portugal. I had it all worked out and was about to make my bookings when a very good friend informed me that it was his birthday on the 2nd of June and he would be celebrating in Ireland and I was invited.

Well that changed everything. I booked my flight to Dublin for the 1st of June. It was then that I realised that the project didn't finish until the 1st of June. With a 3 day ride back to the UK this was never going to work. So onto plan "B" fly Gatwick to Porto and leave the project a day early so that I could be back in time to fly to Dublin. Not a good start to my voluntary endeavours. But that was the way it had to be, and who knows, I may have been desperate to leave a day early.

This was my first venture into the world of voluntary eco-tourism and I did not keep a diary which was something that became a "must do" on future trips. What I can tell you is, that this trip was a life changing experience that lead to many more adventures and eventually to me becoming a team leader. And for that I have to thank Mr Terry (Mateo) Mattson, a remarkable man who now, along with his wife (Alexandra) runs his own mission in Honduras.

So this is how it all started

The year was 2004 I needed to find a web address that a friend was involved with, he was currently half way around the world racing a yacht for someone with more money than sense, so I thought I would Google his name.

I couldn't believe the amount of information displayed before me. Most of it was listings from yacht clubs around the world, placings that he and his crew had attained in various classes of race. There was page after page. I eventualy found the information I required and moved on. But it set me thinking, wondering about how much information there was out there about me, not that I had attained the heady heights of fame as a master yachtsman or anything else for that matter.

My life had been quite dull up to that point, businessman, father, (not a very good one) married twice, (first one doesn't count as we were both too young) and one partner, or at least at that time in my life, I had a partner.

I was to be proved correct, there wasn't a lot in cyberspace about yours truly. I got a mentione in my company website which I subsiquently removed.  There's more than enough information available for public viewing, I didn't need more added to it. There were a few other entries under the same surname but unrelated to me. Then there was an entry entitled "The Fowell Street Project". Well that one caught my eye. I just had to link in and take a look.

What I found was to change my life forever. For a number of years I had wanted to take part in international voluntary work. But as most organisations require you to sign up for six months, a year or even three years, it was a non starter. I still had a business to run and required an income so as to live. There was also the problem of not having a trade or qualification that these voluntary organisations needed. I had built and run my own business, sold it, worked as operations director for a national company and then moved into the property management business. None of this qualified me for a post with an NGO.

But then I found the "Fowell Street Project".  Fowell Street is in Georgias America. The project was  housing. The organisation behind the project was Habitat for Humanity. I read with interest what they were doing, using short term volunteers to assist in building homes with families so as to improve their life, to lift them out of poverty housing and into the home owner sector of society. Improving family security, health and education. Giving these families a hand up, not a hand out.

From that project, I delved into the pages of Habitat for Humanity's own web site. I was lost in there for days, reading everything I could about them, watching their online videos and soaking up as much information as I could.

Here is a charity that works all over the world. Offers short term voluntary projects of fifteen days at a time. This was just what I had been looking for. A chance at last to give back to a world that up to this point, all I had done was take.

Habitat for Humanity was a Christian based charity and as I was not of that faith, my first question, and only question was, "am I acceptable as a volunteer" the answer was a definite yes. HFH is in fact a multi faithed organisation and works with people of all relegions and even no relegion. So that was the start, all I needed to do was decide where I would work and when.

Start at the beginning

This is all new to me. I decided to start because a few of my friends have blog's and I have just worked my way through the J A Jance novels in the Ali Reynolds series. She too has a blog, but it seems to get her into a lot of trouble. Lets hope this doesn't get me into any scrapes.

I started to record my experiences as a team leader back in 2005 when I started a fascinating journey with Habitat for Humanity Global Village Project. These ramblings have remained on my pc ever since. I now think it is about time I did something with them. I am not a writer and I am sure they will contain many errors in grammar and punctuation. I sent these jottings out to friends, just for their information and hopefully enjoyment. One of these friends returned one edition to me with corrections on it. Amazingly she is still a friend. These ramblings are not out there to be marked. Read them or dismiss them, your choice.

I will post from the beginning so dates will not be current. Names will be changed so that the innocent or even the guilty will be protected. If you detect someone you perceive to be yourself or someone you may know, I can assure you, you are wrong. I will not put in the dates of the trips in question so there will be no way of trying to prove who was who. That is until I get up to date and then I shall just have to be careful.

So follow the blog and enjoy the ride (I hope) and I look forward to reading your responses, good or bad.