House Building

(By Dermot)

Streetscape

So, we started to build the houses.

To call a place a village in Australia conjures images of verdant cricket grounds, small churches and fountains in parks. Not so in Cambodia.

The road to the village where we will be building leaves the main highway about 60 kms south of Tbeang Meanchy, which is quite a large town. The dirt road to the village winds its itits s way through long grass, some of which has been set alight and is still burning, parts of the road verge for maybe 40 metres have been cleared of large trees. Stumps have been burn, all evidence of land clearing. There are few houses or people around. Occasionally huts appear adjacent to small banana plantations.

As we round a bend we see the first huts of the village, many look like animal shelters, simple wood and thatched structures. Some are on low stilts but many are not. Dogs, moving slowing in the heat, meander on to the road, paying little attention to our van. The red dust off the lateritic soils hangs in the air. I imagine this would be a quagmire come rainy season. Strewn along the road, white taro dries in the sun. Chickens are everywhere, many with very young chickens, colourful roosters too. Must be spring, puppies too are common. The dogs are dingo-like, yellowish, small and smooth-haired. They ignore us, mainly, they seek a shady spot to laze.

Some of the people

Many villagers are there to greet us. They are all small slight people. There are lots of kids, grubby-faced. They become shy, burying their face into a parents leg, while still sneaking a glance at the odd sight that has arrived in their village. We all give the ‘lotus’ greeting sign of hands in prayer-like clasp, bow to the villagers and unpack our gear. A smile is greeted by a smile. Some young kids look wide-eyed but also respond to a smile with a smile.  We unload our gear from the van and place it on a table set up beneath a tarpaulin. It will be safe there but anything else left lying around is fair game for the villagers. There are other rules, such as no touching anyone of the opposite sex, apparently to do so means they are carrying your child. I suggest to Rory we run around touching all the women saying "your my wife now". Also, to touch a child may be interpreted as wanting the child in payment for the house. So, I suppress the urge to give kids a ruffing of the hair! It is easy to see how avian flu takes off in places like this. Chickens, wander around everywhere.

Our “Rockin’ for Tabitha” team, comprises the Henries (Susan, Rory and me) our illustrious leader, Paula Piilonen from the Canadian Museum of Nature, a veteran of 7 previous building projects, and Thora Broughton (Canadian, retired aid worker). Pohn, a Cambodian worker from Tabitha is there to assist, advise and interpret.

Now I know, many of you may think the only thing handy about me around the house is that I live there, well, wielding a hammer by and large is all that is required!

As a team we have raised funding for ten houses. They will accommodate about 65 people. The recipients have been selected by the villagers and helped by Tabitha to raise some funds for their house. They do this by putting aside a small amount, maybe as little as 50c per week, with the aim of putting the money into a project that will generate more income. Typically Tabitha helps them buy chickens, which, once raised can be sold. The aim is to encourage saving and enterprise. Each recipient is to raise about $25.

The houses - the way we found them, and afterwards from the outside and inside.

The frames of the Tabitha houses have already been erected. They are all on stilts about 6ft off the ground.  They are to replace shacks, many are simple thatched structures that are generally adjacent to the new hut. There are no trinkets and heirlooms here. Just the essentials, pots and pans. In recent times, some wells have been established, some by Tabitha, one by some religious group that insisted on a stone structure in blue paint and perspex promoting Jesus, which seemed at odds in this simple community.

There are 4 contractors to help us. Our tasks are to nail in the floors and cover the walls in ‘tin’ sheets. It’s hot work. Fortunately Rory and Paula are adept up the very top of the ladders, which are easily about 12 to 14 ft off the ground. Susan and I work the lower levels. Thora, who broke her wrist a week or so before leaving (slipping on ice in -30C Ottawa) works away on the floor. We all assist on the floors from time to time.  It is impossible to keep the villagers away (although they’re not supposed to in case they get injured) but some of them will be living in these new houses, and of course they’re excited. They help line up the sheeting. One man tries to pinch my nose and Rory’s. They believe our noses are pointy because we stick them on every morning. We have a good laugh and I pretend to tweak his nose in return.

Building

It’s hot work but constant and time goes quickly. On the first day we complete 6 houses leaving 4 for the second day. We return to our hotel weary and ready for a cold beer. We have an early dinner and an early night.

Day two, we are up again for a 6.30 breakfast and head back to the village. Again the villagers greet us and we set to work. On the first house a young villager insists on helping me. After finishing he leads me by the hand down the road to another house where a pump has been installed, I stick my head under it and he pumps the water, laughing as he goes. After much gesticulating we swap names. I think his name was Aki. Later I discovered the first house was for him and his two young kids.

Pohn, our local Tabitha person, cooked a wonderful lunch of chicken with lemon grass with rice, and a banana flower soup. As I eat lunch under the tarpaulin I notice that a chicken is nesting in a cardboard box above my head. Two small kids set up three logs and proceeded to chuck rocks at them knocking them over like skittles.

After lunch, in record time, we finish the tenth house. Rory is knackered, he worked tirelessly up and down the ladder for two days. He enjoyed the banter with the Cambodians and especially the lead contractor. One villager had held the ladder for him all day.

After the final house was completed all the villagers were called together. Pohn made a small speech, as did Paula. Then the head villager thanked us for coming and helping the village. We presented each family that received a house with a blanket, which was stitched by Tabitha workers, mainly by women rescued from the sex industry in Phnom Penh. It was quite emotional for all of us. We had photos taken and then dispersed to let the villagers move into their new homes. I sought out Aki. His wife looked very young, maybe even a teenager; they had two kids, identical in size, a boy and girl. I introduced them to Susan and Rory.

Outside the village we stop at the small school. It is essentially a shelter with three walls divided into three partitions. I think grade 1 then 2, 3, and 4&5. To me the kids all look tiny. Most are wearing uniform. The teacher, who also looks very young, calls on one young girl to come out and read the maths lesson off the board. She does, with the class responding in unison. There’s nothing quite like rote learning! Each class repeats this exercise. It’s very entertaining. Adjacent to this school, Tabitha are funding a new brick school comprising six classrooms. We inspect the site and one of the workers explains that it should be finished in six weeks. The kids won’t know themselves, especially during wet season.

It will take a while to digest this experience. As well as being physically tired for the work, the attack on the senses is also exhausting. I have an overwhelming sense that there is so much to be done. To keep perspective, Tabitha have built over 40,000 houses accommodating nearly 500,000 people. Susan and I agree we don’t want the people to feel grateful. We should feel grateful for what we have and that we have the luxury of being able to choose to help others. I get a sense from the village that they are a community that works together, in selecting the recipients they have chosen to help the most needy in their own community.

My last image of the village is one of the woman walking along the road with two children transporting the blanket package on top of her head.

I think of the old black and white photograph in our living room called “Sunday Morning” circa 1910. A family stand in front of their small white-washed (possibly single room) cottage on the Island of Aran, west of Ireland. Small people, clothes dishevelled and grubby stand proud in front of their humble home. I had Rory, as a child, convinced the grubby small girl on one end was his mother prior to emigrating with one pig, one cow and a big sack of potatoes. We are all from humble begininings.

I think of Aki and his family and hope that the children will get an education that will help lift them all out of poverty.

Again, I’d like to thank all of you that contributed generously to this project.

 

Aki and his family