View from a Habitat Team Leader: Philippines Disaster Response & Recovery Trip

View from a Habitat Team Leader: Philippines Disaster Response & Recovery Trip: Where does the time go . Its been ages since I posted anything on here. In December last year I was in India and then in April this year I...

Philippines Disaster Response & Recovery Trip

Where does the time go.

Its been ages since I posted anything on here. In December last year I was in India and then in April this year I was in Sri Lanka working with a great team to help 5 families achieve a better life and a new home. I will get around to writing it up at some point but there is still a back log of trips to be posted. And of course there is now my new Philippines Disaster Response Project in hand for December 2014.
I have posted the details here in case it reaches someone who would like to take up the challenge and join me on this fantastic adventure.

I know I promised you this trip information months ago but it's not been easy getting this project off the ground. Unlike our standard Global Village trips, the logistics of operating under the "Disaster Response"  banner are far more involved and require a greater level of input from everyone involved both in the American office as well as the Philippines, and then there is me of course stirring it all together form the UK. 

The waiting is now over and the project is a runner. I will endeavour to detail it in the body of this email as this trip will not be going live on the Habitat Web Site.  Again, because of the Disaster Response element of the trip, it is not categorised the same as the standard trips advertised on the web site. Therefore it is only being offered to people on my radar. I know a few of you have already expressed a wish to sign up for this trip and I am thrilled that you want to join me yet again on another adventure. The places are limited so you will need to be quick to sign up, The registration details are explained below because it is not the same as the normal GV process. I would appreciate an email to let me know you are signing on prior to you doing so, just so that I can keep track.

As We know,  Typhoon Haiyan, known as Typhoon Yolanda in the Philippines, was one of the strongest tropical cyclones ever recorded, which devastated portions of Southeast Asia, particularly the Philippines, on November 8, 2013. It is the deadliest Philippine typhoon on record, killing at least 6,268 people in that country alone. Haiyan is also the strongest storm recorded at landfall, and unofficially the strongest typhoon ever recorded in terms of wind speed. As of January 2014, bodies were still being found.

Whilst a lot of clearing up is still ongoing, we will be involved in helping to rebuild the homes and lives of the people of Daanbantayan on the northern tip of Cebu island facing the Visayan Sea. I will have more details of the exact work schedule nearer the start date.  But you all know what we do and why we do it and at this moment in time I can't think of a more deserving cause than helping rebuild the lives devastated by this Typhoon.

The project dates are: November 28th to December the 12th 2014. Just a year on from that terrible event.  These dates include travel days so as to make certain you are covered by our insurance during your travel as well as in country.  Your arrival day should be Sunday 30th as accommodation is booked from that night onwards. However I would suggest aiming to get in on Saturday. I know that will cost you an extra night but it will be worth it to get over your travel lag. I can arrange the accommodation for the Saturday should you require it. If you are arriving on the Sunday, I will be there at the airport to meet you as usual and make sure you get to the hotel in Cebu. If you are arriving the day before then it is only a short taxi trip into town.

I have not attached a full Itinerary but basically we will drive to the village on Monday. Work through to Friday. Weekend off and then Monday to Thursday returning to Cebu on Thursday evening so you would need to book your exit flights for Friday 12th onwards.

I will be available to talk with you should you require any further information but those that have worked with me before know that the information flow just keeps coming once you have joined the team. Drop me an email and suggest a time to call, don’t forget the time difference, I am in the UK. I will be happy to call you and chat about the project and answer any concerns you may have. Failing that you can ask me your questions via email. rayfowell@gmail.com or call me on +44 798 357 5271. Or Skype me, find me at Raymundo1952

The GV code for this trip. GV15344. The cost of this trip is $2150. I think most of you know what that includes but for those who are unsure, basically everything except your air fare and visa etc.

Well that is it for now, I hope you decide that this is the project for you. It certainly is for me, and as most of you will know, my projects include hard work but a lot of fun.  So come on, make a difference in both your life as well as those we are there to help. I hope to hear from you soon.

View from a Habitat Team Leader: The full story of the fractured leg in Ghana.

View from a Habitat Team Leader: The full story of the fractured leg in Ghana.: I know, it's been a while since my last post. Well I have been busy with other things. House renovation, vacation, Yes, I do get one as...

The full story of the fractured leg in Ghana.

I know, it's been a while since my last post. Well I have been busy with other things. House renovation, vacation, Yes, I do get one as well as my Habitat Trips. I don't class those as vacations, they take months to put together and when they are over I need a vacation to recover. My last HfH trip to China was in April and to say the least, was not as expected. But I will tell all about that another time. I am not up to date yet with the rest of the trips. As you know I did not start posting blogs until recently so had a lot to catch up on.

I have decided that as they all retrospective I don't need to stick to date order. So this time I am posting my trip to Ghana Last year, 2011.  Well not so much a run down on the whole trip as most of it, well in fact all of it, I was sat on a plastic garden chair under a temporary awning to protect me and the dinning table from the rain, with my leg in a full cast. I have inserted pictures of my time spent under the awning so they are not actually relevant to that section of the story.

The girls in the team (100% female team) were amazing. 

 Meet the Ladies

They completed the project and ran around after me at the dinner table making sure I was fed and watered. They did a grand job, If I wore a hat, I would take it off to them. Even though they made sure I was eating, I still lost over 28lb in weight by the time I arrived home. Not a diet I would suggest to anyone else.

As I was not staying in a hotel but sleeping in a mosquito tent on the floor (it was not easy getting in and out of that) of a previously built Habitat house, it was not very comfortable to say the least, and I won't even go into the bathroom details, too much information as they say.

My home for the duration

The following is more a recount on my time dealing with the hospital and the ensuing problems of  breaking a leg in Ghana.

Ghana and the tale of the double fracture

It didn't get off to a good start from day one. I was due to be at the airport to collect team members arriving from the USA. Two flights were due in shortly after each other and the plan was to meet the first and hold them back for the second. I arranged with the hotel to have the driver pick me up at 19:00 hrs. He arrived at 19:30, he also collected another guest for transportation to the airport. We then stopped for fuel and finally arrived at departures over an hour later. 

I did hobble down to the build on one occasion, these are children of the partner family

I checked my phone and found an e-mail from Sonita who was due in at 19:30  it was now 20:30 and she was panicking because I was not there to meet her.  The traffic exiting departures was at a standstill so I left the vehicle and started to run down the ramp towards arrivals. That's where it all went wrong. I tripped and tumbled down the ramp grazing my arm and right leg. My left leg took the full force of the fall and was extremely painful.

On getting to my feet I found I could not put any weight on the left leg but had to hobble into the arrival area in the hope of finding Sonita. Luckily she had taken a seat by the coffee stall, I joined her and felt pleased that she was OK. It can be terrifying, a young girl thousands of miles from home, never been that far away from her parents before and there she is all alone, no one to meet her.

When the driver finally arrived I asked him to collect the next 4 team members on the next flight and bring them to the coffee bar where I was sitting. This he accomplished without a problem. 

I could hardly make it to the vehicle but with the help of a friendly shoulder to lean on, I got there.

Home owner

The following morning I realised the situation was worse than I had first anticipated. I had to accept the fact that I may have cracked  a bone in my leg. I called Naomi (affiliate GV co-ordinator) to my room and explained the situation. She was to take the team north to the village where we would be working. I would stay behind and go to the hospital and would catch them up later.

After following procedure and contacting Medex (HFH Insurer) they sent me details of which hospital to visit. I then took a taxi to the A&E at the Military Hospital in Accra.  This is where the fun started.

The taxi dropped me at the entrance and I hobbled in through the door. There was no reception and the first room was filled with people with various parts of their bodies bandaged or supported by temporary splints and dressings.  The doorway in front of me had a sign saying "Emergency Department" above it, so I hobbled through. An orderly saw my distress and immediately found me a wheelchair. Then the fun started. After I explained the problem I was taken in my new found form of transport to the accounts department where they took my details and issued me with a card in exchange for 30 Ghana cedies.

I was then transported back to Emergency and parked alongside two men lying on mattresses on the floor, both were attached to saline drips and one had bandages supporting his leg in a cardboard splint. The other just appeared to be in pain and curled in the foetal position. On a Gurney to the left of me was a guy with bandages around his waist and covering his arms, a saline drip was attached to his hand and to say the least he did not look comfortable. 

We got to meet the village Chief in his Habitat House

Eventually I got to speak to a doctor who informed me I was in need of an x-ray. Unfortunately the x-ray machine at the Military Hospital was not working and I would have to go elsewhere. At this point they ordered a state ambulance to collect me and transport me to another facility where there was a working unit. They also wanted to strap my leg and give me pain killers. The orderly told me what they would cost, I gave him some more money and off he went to get them. On his return they strapped my leg and gave me the pain killers. Apparently I should eat as I had taken the pill, I had had nothing since the previous evening.

The ambulance arrived and I was duly transferred to the stretcher and into the ambulance, (van with runners on the floor to hold the stretcher) Two other guys joined me and took their position on the double seat mounted next to the stretcher. One was the accompanying friend (apparently everyone should have one when going to hospital) the other was a car crash victim with dressings all over his face and what they suspected were damaged ribs. On the way, Max (ambulance doctor) got me a can of Guinness Malt, a disgusting drink that is apparently a food substitute.

On arrival at the hospital I assumed they were not used to having stretcher cases there because the doors did not accommodate them, but Max managed to get me in there. Max was to prove to be my saviour on more than one occasion during this exasperating day.  Once outside the x-ray unit door the radiologist wanted paying before he could continue. I didn't have enough cash as I had only exchanged a small amount at the airport when entering the country. Max paid the balance for me and the x-ray was completed. Max stayed in the x-ray room at all times, no lead aprons or protective screens to be seen here, and he was on the mobile continuously although the big sign said NO MOBILES.

Job done, Max informed me that I had a fractured Tibia.  On the way back to the Military Hospital we stopped at the ATM. I gave Max my card and pin number and told him not to book his holiday on it. He returned  to inform me that the card had been refused. I guessed it was a security problem. So there I am laying on the stretcher phoning the bank in England. Finally they clear security and free up my card. Max returned to the ATM and came back with the cash. I repaid my debt to him and paid for the ambulance. Hospital next stop.

The lovely lady in who's home I stayed during my time in Humjibre

Max wheeled me back into Emergency where I sat for a few hours watching the goings on around me. I was positioned on a gurney next to the operating theatre. A big sign on the door read "Operating Theatre No Entry" Perhaps the locals cant read but everyone and his friend entered that room at some point during my stay.

The idea of patients having a friend with them is so that they can run back and forth, paying fees, purchasing bandages and medicine from the on site pharmacy. You are charged for everything. Fortunately for me the friendly orderly took on that roll.

During my stay in the emergency unit, I had nothing to do but sit and watch the theatre performance going on around me. It was like a war zone. Bodies being brought in on stretchers, covered in blood, head wounds appeared to be the majority of cases. Motorcyclists with their feet hanging off, blood pouring from a head wound and a body covered in gravel wounds with the gravel still embedded in them. Another guy with a gunshot wound to his ankle, another motorcyclist with head wounds and a broken leg. He did arrive with a crash helmet so I'm not sure how he got the wound to the head.

They were all treated there on the stretcher right next to me, removed clothing dumped on the  blood soaked floor.  Cleanliness was not a high priority around here. I had no idea how long I had been there as the clock hanging from the ceiling was stuck at 11:20. The second hand was struggling to move, it kept ticking in a static position. I'm not sure if it was broken or if it was just the filth and grease stuck to it that was restraining the hand.

Beyond the emergency department was the emergency ward, here were patients who had been upgraded from phase one to the ward where they lay packed on beds lining the walls and packed so tightly with just enough space between them to enable the visitors and nurses to walk.  There seemed to be some kind of routine to visiting hours because every half hour or so, a stream of people walked through the area where staff were dressing the wounds of those damaged and bloody bikers, gun shot and car wreck victims.  All carrying food and washing items. It appears that you have to have your family feed and wash you, it's not part of the hospital facilities. I don't think I would have lasted long in there had it been necessary for me to stay in. 

My view from the plastic chair at lunch times

I had that thought too soon, I was told that the surgeon who needed to look at my x-ray and carry out any necessary surgery did not work on Sundays so I would have to stay until Monday. Seeing that this was not an option, I brokered a deal. I would get a taxi back to my hotel, although at this point I didn't have a hotel room, and return tomorrow morning.

With the help of Naomi who was at this time best part of the way through a 10 hour journey to the Habitat work site, I was able to secure a room at the Crystal Palm Hotel that had been used to house the team on the first night of their arrival. I also arranged for their driver to collect me from the Hospital and take me back to the hotel. 

With a room secured on the ground floor, I ordered a salad and then slept soundly until the morning. David the hotel driver was there on time and ready to take me to the hospital for another adventure into the health system of Ghana. He was very insistent that I was happy that he was on time. It was as if someone had mentioned that because he was late two days previously I had been placed in this situation. Not one that I blame him for, this is Africa, time is different out here. I still blame myself for running down a gradient, I should have known better. I was later to find out that Naomi had  had a word with the hotel about him being late.

On arrival at the hospital I entered the emergency room without a clue as to what to do or where to go. A guy in a short white coat requested the card that I had been given the previous day. On production of this he dropped it into a cardboard box at the end of a long table behind a clear perspex screen. I was then told to sit in a row of chairs which were fully occupied, and wait. 

Fortunately a young girl who had been sitting with an elderly relative, after being persuaded by the relative gave up her seat.  I had been sitting for a short while when I spotted a man raking through the cardboard box containing my card. He extracted a card and called my name. I hobbled across to him to be given my notes from the previous day. I hobbled back and sat down once again.

The kids wondering why this guy was sitting there with a cast on his leg

After a short while a door with the sign "consulting room one" opened and a number of people in white coats walked out and took a look at the rabble seated before them. This is a military hospital and there were a number of high ranking officers making there way back and forth through  the corridors and offices in view. Uniforms in camouflage, white, dark blue, the white ones looked really impressive. One of these uniformed medical staff stood outside the door and  directed the patients who were seated in the chairs, one by one into the room. It didn't mater who was first, he worked clockwise from the front right side of the double row of chairs.

It was not long before it was my turn. I hobbled into the room to be confronted by what appeared to be 2 male doctors and a female who I had seen the day before. I passed over the x-ray and the senior guy clipped it to the light board, pointing out the two fractures to my Tibia. He then proceeded to explain that I needed a cast and one of the other doctors present would find me a wheelchair (not an easy task in this hospital) and take me to the plaster room.

Once in the room with three, what I assumed to be doctors, I climbed onto the bed and they readied me for the cast. That was when one of them produced an invoice detailing the cost of bandages, plaster of Paris and a pair of crutches.  This all added up to far more than I had with me. So it was off the bed, back into the wheel chair with Kofi the doctor who had wheeled me there in the first place, now taking me to locate a Taxi. He summoned a hospital taxi as these drivers can be trusted (apparently). I squeezed into the front and with Kofi in the back we headed out to the ATM for a second time. The traffic was horrendous and it took quite some time to travel a short distance. After I extracted another 400 Cedies we headed back to the plaster room but not before stopping to pick up lunch for Kofi.

Back in the plaster room I settled the invoice and was duly plastered. Kofi wheeled me back to the taxi and I was free to go to the airport and fly up to Kumasi where a driver was to meet me for the three and a half hour drive to Humjibre in the western region. It had taken the team four hours to drive from Accra to Kumasi, the flight lasted twenty five minutes. I waited just over the hour for "Bright" my driver to arrive. We then headed out to the village arriving about 7 pm on the Monday.

 The Cast

I then spent two weeks sitting on a plastic chair under the awning set above our team table. Not sure I was of much use to them but at least I was able to give moral support and answer a few of their questions.

At the end of  the project and following the 10 hour drive back to Accra, I went back to the hospital and had the cast removed, thereby enabling me to fly home. Apparently most airlines will not let you fly with a cast or unable to flex the knee. Fortunately Kofi had written his name and number on the back of the x-ray envelope. I called and explained the situation and he asked me to meet him at the plaster room in the hospital. He then proceeded to remove the cast, We don't have a set charge for this he said, but we will take whatever you give us. I paid up and headed on my crutches out of the door and back to the hotel.

It rained a lot during my time under that awning and my crutches came in handy more than once

I spent that evening cast free sitting next to the pool with a beer in hand. The beer was to try and deaden the pain, it wasn't working. Next day at the airport, Virgin made a great effort to secure my comfort throughout the journey home, I certainly have no complaints as far as that flight was concerned.

Back in the UK, I was wheeled through the airport to be greeted by Moira waiting for me at arrivals. She whisked me off to the local hospital where we waited 5 hours over night to end up with a part plaster cast that was loose and disjointed and quite frankly, useless. At least Kofi in Ghana new how to put a cast on a leg. We then travelled back to Yorkshire and again checked into a local hospital in Doncaster. The story was so different there, you would not believe they were both NHS hospitals.

I then had a fancy contraption fitted, looked like one of those things kids with polio used to wear. (if you are old enough to remember those things). It was my new friend for the following 8 to 12 weeks. 

The calliper

Unfortunately it didn't stop there. Since returning home I was diagnosed with fluid on the lung, that  rectified itself with the use of antibiotics. An infection on the lung, Again rectified but left a scar. But worst of all is a blood clot at the back of the knee and a pulmonary embolism. So was put on Warfarin for 3 to 6 months. 

All the effect of fracturing my leg and flying back without a cast. Catch 22 I think, can't fly with a cast, DVT if you fly without one. But hey, there are many more out there far worse off than I.  And as they say, Life is the adventure.

Update:  

A few weeks after being home and settling back into life, all be it with a calliper on my leg. I received a phone call from a number I didn't recognise. It was Kofi calling from Ghana to see how I was getting on. Amazing, try getting that service from a UK NHS doctor.

View from a Habitat Team Leader: Bawana community, Delhi, India, December 2008

View from a Habitat Team Leader: Bawana community, Delhi, India, December 2008: This time I will start with a brief history of India , the land of rich cultural history.  It is a country known for its Rajas and Maharaj...

Bawana community, Delhi, India, December 2008

This time I will start with a brief history of India, the land of rich cultural history.  It is a country known for its Rajas and Maharajas, as the land of the great Mahatma, as a land in which people of diverse cultures live in harmony as one nation. (well maybe not quite, but I'm trying to get you into the mood for this)  This enchanting country has a great history of over 5000 years.  The name INDIA is derived from the name of the river 'Indus' around which people started to live.  This came to be called the Indus Valley Civilisation, which was as rich as the Greek and Egyptian civilisations.  The successive periods of Vedic Civilisation in 2000 BC, Buddhist Era in 700 BC, the invasion of Alexander the Great in 400 BC and the reign of Hindu Kings, starting with Maurya Empire in 400 BC, had a great impact on the lives of the people.  

With the invasion of the Muslims in 700 AD and establishment of Mughal Kingdoms in 1200 AD, the course of Indian history took a different direction. Islam, hitherto unknown in India, became a major religion. Later, Europeans like the French, Portuguese and the Dutch came to India for business in 1600 AD. With the advent of the British in the form of the East India Company in 1700 AD, Indians were subjected to foreign rule, which lasted for more than 300 years, leaving lasting imprints on every aspect of Indian life. (other than imposed partition I'm told by Indian nationals that the imprints were mostly for the good and beneficial to the current culture).

India achieved Independence from British rule on 15 August 1947 under the dynamic and inspiring leadership of Mahatma Gandhi, Father of the Nation, through the great Philosophy of Non-Violence. India became a Republic on 26 January 1950

So with the history lesson over and referring back to the above statement "a land in which people of diverse cultures live in harmony as one nation" I shall begin my story.

Mumbia had just been blown apart by terrorists. In today's world of instant news, everybody knew what was going on and could see for themselves the devastation and terror that this incident caused. Not a good start to the project which was to commence less that two weeks after the event.

As I expected, the e-mail's started to arrive, "is it going to be safe?"  "Have any members pulled out?" "My family are worried for my safety" "I'm not sure about going after this"  were just some of the questions and comments being fired at me.

What could I say?. For my part it was still a possibility unless the American State Department put out a travel warning. I answered as honestly as I could, Mumbia was a long long way from Delhi. Security would be on high alert. If HFH thought there was a problem they would pull the plug. If HFH India thought there was a problem, they too would pull the plug.

The e-mail's started to fly between team members, as we used a group mail to communicate so that everyone could read each others questions and my answers. No point in trying to hide each others concerns. 

Having interviewed and spoken to most of the team before accepting them into this project, I felt that I had chosen good people. I was proved right on more than one occasion during this trip. But the response to the "are we going" question was an overwhelming "screw the terrorists, we are in" well maybe not in so many words but the answer was a positive YES.

The team consisted of 11 members as one had dropped out earlier due to financial constraints and I hadn't enough time to replace them. In saying that, there were more than enough people wanting to go, right up to the last minute. But visas and inoculations etc. would have taken too long to complete. So 11 it was going to be. 6 women and 5 guys. I know I usually write a few words about each member but perhaps I'm getting lazy, or maybe I think that each member can describe themselves better than I can. But don't worry each will get a mention at some point throughout these ramblings.

So for me it was time to head for the airport, no drama there then. Uneventful flight with Air India direct to Delhi. 

At Delhi airport I was due to meet Amit, my contact and HFH India project manager in Delhi. Through previous communication we had arranged a meeting place in the arrival lounge. This is where it started to go wrong.

Amit

I had flown out a day early to meet up with Amit, and go over the details making certain that everything was in place for the arrival of the team the following day.

My arrival followed a report by the BBC (of all people) that 6 gunmen had been shot at Delhi airport earlier that day. This news obviously went around the world in about 20 milliseconds. The US State department then placed a travel warning on it's web site. 

At the airport nothing much seemed to be out of the ordinary, security was high, but then it was the anniversary of the destruction of Babri Mosque in December 1992 and a few problems had been envisaged by the authorities. The only other problem was that the airport had been closed to visitors, every one had to wait outside for incoming passengers. This meant that the agreed meeting place was not available. Added to this there were two exits. 

I decided to take the exit left. After standing there for a few minutes reading all the names being displayed by the drivers lined up at the barrier, I was approached by a young blond American girl who introduced herself as Katie, a long term volunteer with HFH India. Amit was at the other entrance. (all bases covered) As I was to learn, Amit is probably the most well organised and dedicated affiliate contact I have worked with. There were going to be no logistical problems with this guy on the case.

At the YMCA Delhi, our home for the next few weeks. Amit and I met for lunch and discussed the plan for the project.  Our initial destination should have been Bhalaswa, but this had been changed to Bawana because there was more of a need and it better suited our team size. We agreed to meet the rest of the team members at varying times of the following day with the last two arriving early hours Sunday morning. It was going to be a long day.

Amit also had news that one of the members had decided not to come, following the BBC reported shooting at the airport and the State Department travel warning. With Kemble not arriving, that reduced our numbers to 10.  The saddest part of this, is the fact that there were no shootings at the airport. The Indian authorities reported that someone heard a noise like a gunshot. This was later attributed to a fire cracker being discharged in the car park. The airport was closed for 20 minutes, no gunmen, bullets or any other incriminating evidence was found and the airport was opened again. So much for the accuracy of the BBC. They did however print an apology about 3 days later. Not much help for Kemble that late after the non event.

On our runs to and from the airport to collect team members, we were a little apprehensive, in case others had decided not to come and we had not had the word. But hey, what a team, by Sunday night (thanks to Vic who arrived late Sunday not late Saturday as we thought he would) everyone was safely housed at the YMCA. They had flown from Canada, Various locations around America, some via Baiging and Yuko from Hong Kong.

On Sunday afternoon Amit presented an orientation meeting to surpass all orientation meetings. He used PowerPoint to highlight his presentation and to give the team a wonderful insight into HFH India and the work they have been doing to help eradicate poverty housing in the Delhi region. This is the last time I will say this but Amit is so switched on I just know he will be a pleasure to work with.

During the last 20 years Habitat in India has built over 14,000 houses for families irrespective of caste, creed and language. Structurally, they operate through four Habitat Resource Centres located at Delhi, Mumbai, Chennai and Bangalore. At present, they have 4 satellites and numerous partner NGOs across the country. As they build partnership with the homeowners to provide decent shelter, they are also drawn to respond to natural disasters, like the earthquake in Gujarat and Tsunami on the East Coast of India. The Jimmy Carter Work Project (JCWP) was a prime event of the year 2006. Their hope to reach many more needy families has been nurtured through JCWP. It was also a milestone in their road to reach 50,000 families in the next five years.

Monday morning, breakfast in the YMCA restaurant at  06:00 hours, ready to leave by 07:00. Amit had arranged a crew bus to remain with us throughout the project, complete with driver and mate. Once everyone was on board we headed out of town on our daily 1 ½ hour drive to Bawana. At that time in the morning the traffic was not too bad. But the closer we got to the community, the worse the roads became. Pot holes all over the place, the driver had to carefully avoid these as they were so deep they would cause irrevocable damage should you be unfortunate enough to find yourself hitting one. As the days passed you could see the increase in size of these holes.

The roads were not the only thing the driver  had to avoid. Traffic rules do exist so I'm told. But I don't think anyone told the hundreds of motorists using the roads of Delhi. On duel carriageways you could suddenly find another motorist driving the wrong way and heading directly towards you. Motorcyclists, push bike rickshaws, and cattle all have laws unto themselves. Also the law says that a motorcycle rider must wear a crash helmet. So what about the other 4 passengers?

On one occasion we were running late. Upon arriving at one particular junction, it was grid locked. Buses, trucks, cars, bikes, you name it, it was there. And no one was going to give way. As an inch of space became available, a vehicle would edge forward to fill it. To me it was obvious that someone had to give way and create a space. It was probably obvious to them, but no one was going to be the one to give up his little space at this party. At one point a motorcycle tried to pass in front of a bus, but the bus was not giving way. He clipped the bike and rider. Now you must bear in mind that all of this takes place without any driver making eye contact with another. more a game of patience, both waiting and manoeuvring.  By this time the motorcyclist is off his machine and clambering into the drivers door of the bus. Punches are being thrown, others are getting involved on both sides, and still nothing moves and no eye contact is made. Only maybe a fist with an eye here and there.

I'm not sure how, but after about 25 minutes we manage to escape the junctions grip and continue on or way to the community. On another occasion we encountered fog so thick I am amazed we got anywhere. I take my hat off to the driver who throughout out time in Delhi, did a wonderful job of transporting us to wherever we wanted to go without complaint and always with a smile.

Upon arriving at Bawana community the site was amazing. We pulled up in the main street which by this time was a bustling market with so many people, cars, trucks and animals that you could not see the road surface. The driver made his way through to the drop off point where we alighted and walked to the community centre that would become our base of operations for the next few weeks.

We walked along mud roads bordered by brick built homes and businesses. Everything from cooked food to bicycle repairs and barbers, telephone services to electrical repairs, it was all there. Now when I say brick built homes, forget the first thought that comes to mind and look at the pictures. These are not brick homes as we in the west understand them. These homes are approximately 15 sq mtr in size and house about 5 people in two rooms. There are open sewers running along the boundary of the houses with water fed by standpipes at set intervals along the road.

People not only collect their water from these standpipes, but wash their cloths, bath and the children play in the puddles remaining due to no drainage.

Each morning we would pass the "Untouchables" the cleaners, the men and boys  who clean the overflowing sewers and load it onto a bike-cart. I'm not sure where they disposed of this stinking mass, or what they did with it, but I certainly do not envy them their daily task.

As was to become a daily event, we were surrounded by children along the route. All shouting "Hi" and clambering to shake our hands. It was only a 3 minute walk to the community centre and as the days went by we got to know the faces of the children and the inhabitants of this area who greeted us with a smile and a wave. It was so good to feel that we were welcomed and not looked upon as strangers. I'm sure it was more curiosity as we did kind of stand out in the crowd.

Once at the community centre we met the director of the facility. "Chetnalia" is the name of the organisation that runs the centre. This charity provides education and other services to the people of the community. It is where we were to take our breaks with lunch being served here each day. This is where we met to discuss the days work load and split the team into two groups as we were to work on two homes and then debrief at the end of each day before the walk back to the market square to meet the crew bus and the journey home.

In the evenings the route back to the bus was again filled with children chasing after us to say Hi and shake our hands. This became a daily ritual and if one of the children was not there we started to worry about them. It became obvious to me that the kids were there, they had just changed their cloths (which was not too often).

The team was split evenly with Katie (long term volunteer) taking one group to work on house number one and Lal Sing (Red Lion) (he was amused to know that he had a lot of pubs named after him in the UK) led the second group. 

Lal Sing

Group 1 was made up of Steve, John, Alison, Anita and Jen.  Group 2 consisted of Yuko, Lindsey, Leigh, Vic and myself.

Day one was demolition day. The task was to dismantle the old houses and clear the site ready for the foundations. The existing structure was bamboo cane with a read weave wall and roof covered in plastic sheeting. The plots are about 3mtr wide by 10mtr long. These had been provided by the government at a very low cost in an effort to relocate these families away from the river that runs through Delhi. The community dwellers own their plot but of course can not afford to build on it having spent what little they have on purchasing it in the first place.

Families arrive from all over India in the hope of a better life in the city. They make camp along the edge of the river Yamuna  one of the most polluted rivers in the world which remains stagnant for almost 9 months of the year aggravating the situation with nothing living in or near it, It is just a stinking green sludge. Eventually the riverside dwellers are moved for their own safety and also in the hope of tidying up the city, to communities like Bawana. The government set aside areas and construct the open sewers and put in a water and electricity supply. They build paved roads ( brick path as we would understand it). Built on a grid system with plots running along either side and back to back. Again a better impression of this can be gained from the photographs. Bawana is approximately 1 km sq. with 10,000 families housed here and approximately 4 members per household. That's 40,000 people crammed into these narrow streets.

Habitat's goal is to eliminate substandard housing in this country, replacing it with simple, decent and affordable homes. Substandard housing is all too common in India. Many families live in deteriorated housing with cramped quarters and limited water and ventilation. India broadly defines substandard housing as less than 98 square feet of living space per person. Habitat India have selected a target area in which 60%-70% of the population lives in substandard housing according to this definition alone.  

Many agricultural families are unable to purchase their own homes, as mortgages are unheard of.  They can neither save the required funds to pay at one time (the average monthly income is between $60 and $90), nor can they risk a high-interest loan. Habitat has found a way to address this problem. Families with two or three income earners can pay back a no-interest loan for a simple, decent, affordable, and healthy home, and still be able to feed their families.

On arrival at the home we were to demolish, we were introduced to the family. During the deconstruction and rebuilding of their home, they will be living with relatives who also live in the community.

Instructed by Lal Sing we donned masks and hard hats to protect us from the dust and dirt that would fall from the structure as we carefully took it apart. All the material removed, was destined to be a new home for another family further along the road. Everything is salvageable and saleable.

Whilst we worked on the plot, a crowd gathered to watch the foreign folk working. This again was to become a daily ritual. People would just stand and stare, sometimes offering words of encouragement when the task at hand was quite strenuous or laughing with us as we joked amongst ourselves.

My team was fortunate enough to have Vic with us. He is a native Indian who now lives in the USA, but he certainly helped with the communications. He was able to explain to the locals exactly what we were doing and at times, why we were laughing.

Once the old structure had been removed and the site cleared, we set about excavating the foundations. 3 feet deep and about 18 inches wide around the perimeter of the plot. In each corner the depth had to be increased to set the re-enforcing bars in concrete to strengthen the structure. During this procedure we were digging through raw sewage as it leaked into the site from the open cast sewage trough which bordered the site. Not only that but we dug out a cockroach nest, hundreds of them. I'm sure the ones that escaped the mass destruction, found themselves new homes along the street. There were a couple of shrieks as cockroaches were found to be crawling on team members clothing but no harm done (only to the cockroaches).

We covered the trough and tried to dam it so that it wouldn't leak whist we were excavating. At one point a young girl started to dip a plastic pot into the trough and move waste from one side of the dam to the other. Amazing, this was completed without a second thought, a daily task obviously.

I don't know how much earth we moved, but it went on for days, each time we thought we were there, Lal Sing would indicate that more had to be removed. All the earth was piled onto the path (road). Now bear in mind that this path was only about 8 feet wide, we took up quite a bit of space. Fortunately the family living and working opposite didn't seem to mind at all.

They were tailors who set there pedal power sewing machine up on the path outside their home which doubled as workshop, store room and home. Theirs was a bamboo and read structure but I guess now that they have seen HFH at work, they will soon be on board and building a new home for themselves. Or at least I hope so.

Home number 1 was progressing at about the same rate but in a slightly different order. They had dug not only the foundations but the sceptic tank as well. Unfortunately I did not get to see what was happening during the working day on this house as the two homes were quite a distance apart.

It did however make for good conversation when we met for breaks and lunch times, telling tales of the mornings events. Everyone had a story to tell. Tales of the children's antics or the dope heads in the shack next door. Apparently they didn't even notice when our team removed the dividing wall, they just lay there out of their skulls. It would appear that this was case for the rest of the build. I can imagine them finally waking up and realising that they have a brick built house next door that wasn't there when they tripped out.

At the end of the first working day, everyone was shattered, not only by the effort exerted during the day but also by the culture shock the team had encountered. This was the first trip to a developing nation for most of the team. Steve had worked in Africa so he was not too shocked at what he saw.

That evening saw everyone taking a leisurely dinner and heading for their rooms to crash out and recoup before the 6 am start tomorrow. This was not to become the norm. This team knew how to work hard and play harder.

After meals on some evenings, individual team members headed off to Delhi, to markets and coffee bars etc. One evening we all went to an artisan market at the far side of town, very colourful.

During the trip we visited a couple of different restaurants in Delhi for dinner (an evening meal was provided by the YMCA but it was good to vary the menu with a few excursions). Evening adventures included a trip to see a Bollywood film on the first night of it's release. Thanks to Amit for organising and arranging tickets for that. Thanks also to Katie for inviting everyone to her apartment for an evening meal and a few beers. Even though the team thought it would be a good idea to plant their empty beer bottles around me and then take a picture of their drunken leader. Sorry Guys it will take more than that to get me drunk.

At some point during one of the work breaks, everyone gave their birth date, amazing as it will sound, out of the 11 of us we had a birthday in every month except December. Somebody said how spooky it would be if Kemble (our member who decided not to partake in the trip at the last minute) had a birthday in December. Well spooky or not, when I checked the paperwork, his birthday was the 16th of December.  That being the evening of our visit to Katie's, a few beers were downed in celebration and a cake was consumed (mostly by the girls). Kemble had a party even in his absence.

During the second week, Vic's aunt "Sri Akka" who heads a charity in India called The Nandalala Mission Which deals with the welfare of children, paid a visit to the work site. She also met the team at the community centre and was kind enough to dispense gifts to each of the team members. A gracious lady.  This was not the last we were to see of her, as Vic had arranged for us to attend a party on the eve of a wedding. This was someone he knew and was also associated with his aunt. 

Using the crew bus we drove out to an upmarket area of Delhi to a large house with a walled garden. The house was decorated in the traditional way with flowers and petals. Part of the garden was screened of for the chefs and silver service was laid out in the garden. There was a DJ blasting out Indian Bollywood style music and a dance floor laid over the grass. Needles to say everyone had a fantastic time. Two of the girls in the team, Leigh and Yuko had previously purchased saris and now had the opportunity to wear them in the authentic surrounding. And I must say they looked stunning. A little different to the daily work site attire.

On this trip we have seen the very poor and now the very rich. The very poor reside in the centre reservation of duel carriageways and on the sides of roundabouts. They live under a blanket, they don't have a roof of any kind. There was a family living in the centre of the road a short distance from the "Y" children as well. No fewer than 140,000 people live on the streets in Delhi, and many are frozen to death in winter.

Delhi's population has been growing over the years, and with it the number of people braving the icy North Indian winter. Cold waves are an annual feature and so are the frozen bodies of homeless people. 

Reports in the media, in 2002 said the police found 3,040 corpses during the winter. According to a survey, in 2000 there were 52,765 people out on the streets. But they missed at least half. Last year, about 70 deaths were attributed to severe winter cold, a marked improvement over previous years. This was possible because a network of NGOs was working in collaboration with the municipal corporations of Delhi and New Delhi. Religious institutions and educational institutions opened their doors for the homeless despite the extra load on water and sewerage facilities

Throughout the project the homes began to grow out of the ground. Every day was a new task. Moving earth, breaking bricks into rubble, moving bricks from the drop off area to the site, mixing cement, concrete, and pouring the same. We moved the cement in metal pans like Chinese wok's in a human chain. Everyone had an opportunity to lay bricks and help raise the home to the next level.

Once the foundation walls were in place and set at about 500 mm above the sewer level, we dug out the area for the septic tank which was constructed under the floor of the house. This then had a concrete lid built over it. This would not only help relieve the open sewer from the families waste. It would help make the home a more hygienic place to live. 

There was a house a little further into the community that had been started by a previous team and was now ready for the roof to be constructed. On one afternoon we left our respective sites and joined forces with local labourers and the home owner family to help pour the concrete on the roof. This was a continuous process as the concrete had to be poured on one go. There was a large cement mixer at the site (phew that was a bonus) having been involved in pouring the roof at the house in Tamil Nadu the previous year without a mixer, I can assure you it was a relief. The team spread out on the scaffold and roof with the boys passing full pans up and the girls passing the empties back down. I was at ground level using my height advantage to get the pans up to the first stage where one of the boys were waiting to pass it on up.

The team all wore masks as the mixer was not exactly environmentally friendly, throwing out vast amounts of smoke and exhaust fumes. The pace was relentless and the team had to change places on a regular basis. Needless to say I stayed at the bottom, height advantage comes in handy sometimes.  

After a few hours it was complete and a loud round of congratulatory applause resounded around the community.

A few days later we were privileged to take part in the dedication of this home. A few members of the team decorated it with paper chains and streamers. We then joined members of HFH India and the family to dedicate and welcome them to their new home. I was honoured to be asked to cut the ribbon along with the family. A very moving moment for both parties. We celebrated with a few sweets (not sure what they were really) provided by the family I think. Words were said by the HFH officials and thanks given by the family. 

It never ceases to amaze me how grateful these families are for whatever little help we can give them. At that point we called it a day and headed back to the community centre and then home to the YMCA.

I can't remember which night it was, but John Henry was craving a pizza fix. The team decided to eat out at an Italian restaurant recommended by Amit. Jokingly I berated John for eating rubbish food whilst we had all this great Indian fair to choose from. I told him pizzas were not good for him.  

Oh boy, was I to be proved right. Whilst the rest of the team chose sensible dishes from the Italian menu, JH went for the pizza, and a pizza with everything on top.

At about 04:00 hours I was awoken by a banging on my door. Standing there was Steve, John had spent the night so far, with his head down the toilet being violently sick. Steve wanted to know if I had anything we could give him (other than advice about pizzas). Even though I had the first aid kit with me, it did not contain anything appropriate for this situation. I made a mental note to remind future team members to bring their preferred  brand of medicine for such occasions.

Steve tried everyone, so not many people got away without a disturbed night. By the morning JH was feeling a little better, if not totally drained and exhausted. He bravely came to the community with us, but followed advice and slept in the community centre, making it to site late in the afternoon just to show his face. I don't think this experience has put him off pizza, perhaps just pizza in India.

Everyone suffered in some way on this trip. The common cold was the biggest problem, we all got that one. The kids on site all had snotty noses, it was obvious we were going to get it. Some of the team suffered the dreaded Delhi Belly but fortunately only for a short period and it did not stop anyone from working or partaking in the R&R. I believe Lindsey missed one evening but was fine the next morning. Even I was not immune, I had the cold and on our last day when we were on R&R in Old Delhi, I felt like death warmed up, that evening was not a pleasant experience. Fortunately by the morning I was in better shape.

More successful evenings were had at the Rodeo Bar (Indian bar staff and waters dressed as cowboys, surreal)  and another place who's name escapes me. All recommended by Amit. I came to the conclusion that Amit has a passion for western style food and any opportunity he gets, he doesn't waste.  In saying that, he was also a good guide to some Indian foods that were locally prepared, such as "Kulfi"  served  from a terracotta pot by a Kulfi-Wallah outside another of Amits favourite eating houses. How nice to just stand in the street and enjoy these local delights. 

By the way, if you look up the New Delhi YMCA web site, you will note that it has a half Olympic size swimming pool, unfortunately they have no water in it.  I must say, that was the only disappointing thing about the "Y". The service was better than you get at many high priced hotels, it had a business centre for Internet access at about the equivalent of 50 pence per hour. The food was excellent and plentiful. Well, maybe breakfast was a bit tedious, but then they were making an exception and preparing something for us prior to opening for normal service. This was because we were there at 06:00 hours for our early get away.

In the evenings when we did eat in the restaurant, it was buffet service and I don't think any of the team had any complaints regarding the quality, I think some just got a little fed up with curry. Therefore Amits little excursions into town to quench his craving for western food was welcomed by all.

As the weeks progressed we saw the houses rise to nearly roof height. The floors were concreted and the septic tanks completed. Unfortunately we could not stay to finish the complete house, but we knew that this would not take the local mason too much longer. But I'm sure it will not be so much fun as he, and we had getting it this far.

As always it is such a wrench to leave these people, especially the children. You just want to bring them home and give them a hot bath and a clean bed. At least we know that the children of the families we have been building with, will have a better future now that they have secure homes.

Our last two days were spent relaxing and taking in the sites with guided tours to the Taj Mahal, Agra Fort.

The Jama Masjid  India's largest mosque and Old Delhi. In Old Delhi we dined in the oldest and apparently very famous restaurant "Karims".

We took a cycle rickshaw ride around the town and generally had a great experience soaking up the local culture.

We were also privileged to visit the memorial and the place where Mahatma Ghandi was shot. A very moving experience. They have actually moved the river so that a memorial garden could be built at the exact spot at which he was cremated. And at the site where he died a memorial garden has his last footsteps to the spot where he was shot.

I think the pictures tell a better story than I can, so I will put the web link at the end of this journal so that you can go and see for yourselves what a great team I had to work with. Over the years I have lost so many pictures of this project but the memories will never fade. And what a wonderful place India is. Despite the poverty and deprivation  this country continues to amaze and entrance me. I am already working on my two return visits for 2009.

As for the team, I would like to thank each and every one of them for being such great people to work with, I have the utmost respect for people who are prepared to give up time and money to help the plight of these less fortunate families wherever in the world they may be. .

There were so many good moments on this trip, moments taken with the local people as well as with the team. Lindsey (camera lady) as she was known by the children. Yuko always there with her infectious laugh and wonderful smile. Vic always late (only joking Vic) Other than me, Vic was the oldest of the team but you wouldn't know it. How do you do it Vic?, whatever the secret is I want to know. Leigh (sorry about the cockroach) tireless worker who moved a lot of bricks without a word of complaint and always with a smile. John the constant joker (accept when being ill after pizzas). I could go on praising them all day but as I have already said. A wonderful team, each and every one of them. And of course Amit and his team, It just wouldn't happen without them.

And finally, During our time on this project we  took time out to visit a children's home. "Palna" some of you may remember this home if you watched a TV garden makeover program with Charlie Dimock and her crew. It was here that they created a beautiful quiet space in the grounds. In fact Amit was present during the project as he was associated with the home at that time.  

It was a saddening experience to see the children that had been left there by there mothers. But it was also encouraging to see how they are treated and educated by the staff at the home. I met a young lady (15) who was visiting with her adoptive parents, she being of Indian decent and they being Americans. It transpired that she was an orphan from Palna who had been adopted 13 years ago. This was her first visit back to her roots. I found this very moving. 

I was also saddened by the basket located outside the premises. (Cradle baby Scheme) Mothers can leave their children in it, an alarm rings in the home and someone goes to collect the latest arrival. The Govt. of India has recently announced the cradle baby scheme for the girl child. Under the proposed scheme, the Government plans to open a centre in each district where parents can leave their girl children if they do not want to bring them up themselves. The state will then raise the child.

The Home and the grounds are beautifully kept and the children looked after with great love and care, unlike some that I have seen in other parts of the world.

So that is it until my next adventure. I will let you know when I post again. And if you are interested in looking at the pictures from all of my adventures just click here. View Ray Fowell's Gallery