Working together to build a home for a family

The work during the week consisted of making rebars (twisting wire around metal brackets that hold long metal cables together for the base of the walls of a house), mixing cement with rocks, sand, and water, moving bricks from their storing place to where they can easily be accessed by the bricklayer, digging a hole for the septic tank, laying bricks to support the tank, and breaking the foundation in trenches to make room for the rebars. All of this was done in the scorching sun, and occasional thunderstorm, in the midst of curious villagers and amused and excited/excitable children.

The tedious task of bending iron to enable the rebars

Breaking the foundation to prepare for building

Kimberley digging deeper

Sam Wong, the leader, straightening one of the rebar rods

All of this was done in the midst of green fields and open horizon, and periodically, we would hear the Muslim call to prayer and various worship songs in Arabic via booming loudspeakers as we laboured in the heat that pounded relentlessly on our backs, and caused sun blisters on some and farmers’ tan on others.

During the day, we would take water breaks, but our work would be interrupted when we had lunch. After eating, we would spend the rest of our time joking around, sharing anecdotes, laughing at one of the team over something they’d done during the work, and massaging each other’s sore shoulders.

Sitting and sharing after the delicious local food

I worked on one house that would ultimately be inhabited by the Simanjuntak family, and to have  contributed to something so permanent and challenging is an experience I will be hard-pressed to forget.

The people of the country that we interacted with, and the Habitat For Humanity staff were endlessly friendly and indulgent of our team’s requests and wishes, working alongside us and arranging for wonderful local meals every night, making a very physically taxing week much more enjoyable than it could have been. The country, and the experience, has touched my heart deeply. Working with Habitat on someone’s home was something I had wanted to do for some time, and this week has taught me many life and practical lessons. The week of May 15-21 in Batam, Indonesia will remain in my team’s collective experience for some time, I am sure. There is something about laughing, sweating, eating, and sharing sunscreen together that brings a group closer.

The team at the end of the week, surrounded by the community

Makes you think, doesn’t it?

We left school at around 12, and arrived after about 40 minutes on the bus. Because it had been raining the whole night before, we thought it would be an awful, muggy day. However, it wasn’t too bad. At first, we had traditional African food with our hands as our utensils – daal, white rice, and scuma wiki (a mixture of beans, potatoes, and squash. Scuma wiki is the food made of cheap ingredients to help a family’s income last for the week, hence ‘wiki’, pronounced ‘week-ee’.

After a time eating, we drank sweet, fizzy drinks from plastic bags and then moved up to a room where we were briefed about what we would be doing for the simulation, which was called ‘Refugee Run‘. The briefing was emotionally affecting as DJ, the man whose family began Crossroads out of their family home (more details about which can be read here), really got involved and drew us in as well. I felt tears tingle in my eyes as I heard about the warfare in Afghanistan in a real way for the first time – it truly affected me, and as callous as it sounds, I finally realised that the brutality of the country’s past has permeated every facet of Afghan society: woven in the very fabric of life, and in every Afghan…

After the briefing, towards the end of which the women were given headscarves to wear and an ID to hold, we were walked to the room where things would begin. As we sat, the head of the village we lived in came in and urgently whispered that there was no choice but for us to escape, as the soldiers were “coming for us” and my heart began to pound in my chest when all of a sudden the lights went out and the soldiers stormed into the room and screamed at us to lie face-down on the floor. People who were sitting together were wrenched apart and pushed into the other room, to navigate around the landmines and to arrive in slightly less danger at the refugee camp.

The camp itself was another sort of danger: you never knew what the guards were going to accuse you of next, or set you up with, and in the end, when I finally came across my mother, I joined her tent and was taken in. The leader of the tent saw an opportunity, and helped us all escape to a room off the side of the camp space. Upon which a man came in and said, “You have successfully escaped from the refugee camp, but you have all been sold into slavery and prostitution. You have lost the game.” and I felt like crying – all that planning and fear, only to face a horrifying, unknown future? Our leader herded us to the back of the room, where I belatedly noticed there was a door, and we snuck out through the door to the balcony, every bit prepared to climb down if one of the guards caught us, and we stood packed closely together, waiting for our fate. After around 10 minutes, one of the members of the group opened the door gently and went to see what was happening, and came back telling us that the simulation was over. The relief I felt in my heart travelled to my knees, which felt weak, and we slowly walked to the main room, where debriefing was happening. It was a 45-minute simulation for us, but a 12+ year nightmare for many. I feel changed, somehow, and I commend to you the work of Crossroads International, which is “Where Need Meets Resource”

This is an engaging video about one man’s experience of the simulation.

If you’re interested in finding out more about the plight of refugees around the world, click here. If you want to know more about the need for legal advice to refugees in Hong Kong, click here. If you want to read an article about the work Christian Action does, as well as what a typical day in the life of a refugee in Hong Kong is like, click here. For an older look at the situation, dated 1967, click here.

To give you something to think about, here’s an article by Steven Paglienari I found:

On Good Writing

“Good” writing is real.

“Real” writing is visual.

It is also complete, succinct, and descriptive. And blameless.

“Really good” writing is all these things, and can also inspire love in the reader.

You cannot feel delight and be unable to “see” a writer’s words. Delight clears the reader’s eyes and fills the writer’s words with the visions of the reader.

Be delighted and I promise, you will see the writer’s words.

After seeing these living words then, know the reader must pass on what is seen to another. Retelling completes the writing. Only then is the writing done.

Few people know this.

Even fewer know that it is they, as readers, who co-create the writing by retelling the words.

This makes readers very important. More important than anyone has ever suspected.

In truth then, “really good” writing requires a “really good” writer and a “really good” reader.

Be both.

Source here.

Looking forward to getting to know you: as writers, as students, and as people.

It took 12 hours to get to the resort, with the transfer in Singapore (during which we tried to figure out the exchange rate and whether the HSBC ATM would charge handling/service, had Burger King for lunch and felt like pigs, and walked around in general), the 1+ hour to get to the resort from the airport, and getting everything sorted out. We were just really excited to be going off on our first trip together as siblings.

Graham and I - cheesy grins for Amanda's photography at Changi

Phuket struck me as being yet another city of extremes and contrasts, the only common point that of the generally-polite people, as the Lonely Planet guide had taught. Once we settled into the most lovely resort, the major adventure of the day was the search for a place to eat, much more trepidatious than one would expect, with many stores not even open as this is off-peak season, and shady bars lining the streets’ storefronts not occupied by massage parlours, closed restaurants or tattoo houses. On our way out, we stopped off at the beach.

The beach across the road from the resort: God's crasftmanship

The massage parlour we finally went to was called Tum Rub, and it was the best, most relaxing, but also most shocking massage I’ve ever had. I discovered firsthand that Thai massages use pressure points and joints. A lot.

An early night tonight, so that we’re full capacity for the swimming, beaching and market-visiting tomorrow. Dinner was at a local place, and every other thing we wanted from the menu wasn’t in supply. Off-season… grrrr. Better luck tomorrow!

Day 2 – Phuket town, Patong: 19/6/09

We started off in the sun at the resort pool, which was lovely and HOT.

This was the pool beneath our room, where we swam most of the time

I got sun-burnt in a big way. Then we went and got a tuk-tuk to Phuket town to do some shopping, and arranged for the driver to wait for us for a while. We souvenir-shopped then stopped by this banana place, which had every dessert made out of bananas. Really refreshing, but didn’t manage to quench our thirst or anything. My longan juice shake was great, but slightly too sweet.

I don't know WHAT I was thinking, but the juice was good at least!

The driver took us back to the resort to drop off all of our shopping, then we went out for the night, getting great seafood at Patong, which is a popular tourist night spot. The food cost an arm and a leg, but was well worth it, considering the food we’d had the night before.

The spread in Patong, at a seafood place where the waitresses loaded the customers at the front so it looked packed!

The walk we had leading up to the bar street was filled with anticipation: what would we see? What could we see? We’d all heard about the famous shows in the a-go-go bars, so we wanted to stop by one. The whole experience was very depressing, and left a bitter taste in our mouths. This is how we looked during the whole performance, in a photo we took afterwards:

After that, we hailed another Tuk-Tuk and went back to the resort. A brief walk across the road to the beach helped us debrief a little, and although we felt slightly better, the night was called shortly after.

Day 3: Pilay Island, Maya Bay, Viking Island, Phi-Phi Island, Khai Island: 20/6/09

The speedboat ride from the Royal Phuket Marina was about an hour long, and our first stop on Phi-Phi was to Maya Bay, where The Beach was filmed in 1997 . Beautiful clear water, and LOTS of tourists. We went snorkelling at our next stopping point, and I was entranced: it was my first time, and I hadn’t thought I’d enjoy it, but enjoy it I did. The relatively clear water meant one could see the coral pulsing, the fish gnawing on plankton and moss on the coral, the other tourists looking like pale, extra-terrestrial creatures… our tour guide, a very flamboyant little man called Tony, took us around some other islands, including Pilay Island and Viking Island, stopping off to show us some “Indo-monkeys” that were “not tame and will attack children first”

Smart move, tourists - feeding the monkeys that are always on the verge of scratching your eyes out... there were several too-close moments...!

We then continued to the main snorkelling point: Phi-Phi Don Island, the bigget of the islands. The water wasn’t deep, and we were in constant fear of being torn to shreds by the dead coral. Once we swam out far enough though, I was separated from Graham and Amanda, and ended up happily snorkelling for a while on my own, marvelling at the myriad of colours and types of fish while my brother and sister frantically searched for me amongst the other pairs of dark heads with identical apparatus.

We got back to the resort in the evening, and quickly went to have a quick swim, not least of all to rinse off some of the salt from our bodies! Stopping off in the room, we changed into fresh clothes and walked the 20 minutes down to the market for food. And we got FRUIT!!!

My sister's caption on Facebook: "Yummy yummy fruit! All washed and clean and ready to be eaten!"

For me, Thai food is spicy, red, orange and white somehow, and delicious. The food we chose tonight was all of the former, but none of the last. Tex-Mex? Disappointing.

Day 4: Phuket Shooting Range, down for the count: 21/6/09

The sun beat down on our heads as we negotiated with the driver of a taxi outside the resort, and it was a 15-minute drive to the Phuket Shooting Range. My brother had been looking forward to this day from the time we started planning and had actually been prepared to pay for the whole lot – shooting, ATVs (all-terrain vehicles), clay pigeon shooting, go-carting… we chose our guns, slipped on the earmuffs, and were tutored by our instructors on how to safely operate a weapon. I shot a .9mm, and had an accuracy of 88%, beating my brother by 1%, and my sister by 3. Not bad for a first-timer!

I may be a rookie, but I managed to shoot down 8 out of 10 metal men. Do not mess with me!

The ATVs sprayed mud on the backs of our legs as we plowed through puddles, bush, dirt and elephant fun. The signs they had put up, saying No teasing, no chasing, no going off the path were a result of the accident Graham had last time they were here. Let’s just say he came home from their last trip with more than a bruised ego… before we got on the ATVs, however, we had to do this:

Believe it or not, your head gets really sweaty, really fast, in the hot Thai sun, stuck in a helmet that’s been used by an unknown number of people…

The rest of the day was fun, and a massive adrenaline rush as we crashed through the different activities on offer. Pricey though, as each activity cost around THB900, just over HK$200 for 10 shots, 10 minutes or 12 laps.

At about 2pm we went back to the resort, and both Graham and I felt dizzy and generally poorly. Chalking it down to the heat, we went for a swim thinking we’d feel better before the spa packages that we’d arranged. No luck. By about 4pm we were both asleep in our beds, having gone up one by one to the shower. When Amanda came up, around 5, we were fast asleep and hot with fever. We called to cancel our treatments and ordered up room service. I threw it all up at about 11pm, and then, feeling better, packed up the remaining things Amanda hadn’t got around to pack before falling asleep with the room service trays at the feet of her bed. That’s one way to ensure a memorable last night at a beautiful resort!

Day 5: Goodbyes, Singapore Changi Airport: 22/6/09

When my alarm went the next morning, our fevers had lifted, and Graham and I felt better. We quickly got ready to leave this beautiful island of even more beautiful people. The sky was overcast, and we were glad to be going home.

We took the 1-hour-and-40-minute flight to Singapore from Phuket International airport and walked around the Singapore Changi Airport for the next 4 hours waiting for our flight back home. The best thing about the airport, according to Amanda, was the Accessorize. We changed the last of our THB, and spent up.

Amanda having Accessorized

Finally arriving at home at 10:30pm HK time, we unpacked our souvenirs, showed off our newly-acquired tans, and went to our own beds. Home at last!

But a part of our minds was still stuck on the Phuket beach… and can you blame us??

A scene I didn't see...

The mission trip was wonderful, from the moment we landed in the freezing-cold airport to the crowded arrivals area and out into the van sent from the church that were hosting us… it was all shocking to the senses. As we wove in and out through the infamously busy streets of Manila to get to where we were going to stay (about an hour away from downtown Manila), to the ever-friendly, curious, wonderfully cheerful and welcoming people, it was an experience of a lifetime. We weren’t given the opportunity to stay at a hotel, but it wasn’t necessary. The people we stayed with, and served, and got to know and love, were more than enough.

• The environment of the city was… and I thought it was… It was different from Hong Kong in the sense that…
• The best things were… because…
• But it wasn’t all perfect…
• Back to the good things…
• The food there was… and it was like…
• My final verdict: what is so great about the Philippines? What did I like the most about it? Would I go back?
  

  Some of the (in)famous modes of transport on the streets of Manila. Even where we were. Every day was a blessing