Laughter, sweat and tears

Day 5 and we have a half day to finish up the house. Unfortunately, I'm sitting in the back of the bus clutching a plastic bag and hoping not to throw up. Michelle tells me that it wouldn't be the first time on a build. I know I'll be less nauseous in the front of the bus, but more visible. I opt to hide. Fortunately, I make it to the build site and back to the doctors office for more anti-nausea tablets.

I start on the house about an hour later. We are painting window frames, filling gaps and generally cleaning up the build site and house. I'm on painting duty. The windows and shutters are being painted green and the locals gesture to indicate that I have green paint all over my face.

Word has gone out that no presents are to be given to homeowners since it creates jealousy in the community so Kangie is to be abandoned at the community centre. The kiwi bird has long flown the coop (or hopped, since it's a kiwi). I tuck away the clip on koalas, exercise books, pens and pencils I brought until they can be dropped off at an orphanage. Every house got a picture painted by school kids in the US and a first aid kit put together by the nurses. We also all pitch in a couple of dollars each which will provide lino for all the houses. These are our gifts.

Nevertheless, I overhear an American woman who commented that she had read her homeowner's story that she had to sell her wedding ring to make the house deposit so she'd asked her son, the jeweler, to replace it. Hello? I swear, there is always one.

Finally, it's house dedication time. A red ribbon is held in front of the house and everyone of us, including translators and local builders, makes tiny cuts in the ribbon. The homeowner, Mony, makes the final cut. Photos are taken. We are invited into Mony and Neary's house.

We each say a little something. Both Michelle and I have written something down in Khmer that I try hard not to butcher too much. Our translator Hannah helps me stumble through it. Apparently, Mony and Neary understood it. Then it is Mony's turn to speak. He has worked every day side by side with us on his new house, putting in his 200 hours of sweat equity. He is now overcome with emotion. He cannot speak for several minutes. His speech is heartfelt and beautiful.

We are then each given little tiny bricks with house 12 written on it and "thank you" in Khmer. Additionally, we are each given a silk scarf. After so many days of sweat and laughter, the tears come (and they help get the green paint off my face).

We head over to the dining area. Soon, the celebrations begin. First come the politicians, who remind me of pollies everywhere. Then there are more pertinent speeches, accounts, and thanks. A number of folk from the US team don western wear and do a line dance to Cotton-eyed Joe.

Kiwis Blokes do the Haka. The introduction to the Haka states that it is traditionally done to intimidate the opposition, but today it is being done in a spirit of goodwill.  Michelle comments to me that if 150 Kiwi blokes want to take off their shirts and do the Haka, she doesn't care what the reason is.

The Khmer translators do something that looks suspiciously like the Electric Slide to a Cambodian pop tune and the local staff start a dance that is a mix of traditional Aspara and popular dancing. When they invite others to join them, we have people from a dozen nations doing a spontaneous flash mob dance. It's awesome.

We are tired and happy, sad and exhilarated all at once. I think this is the nature of a Habitat build. Will I do it again? I don't know. I hear there are builds coming up in Mongolia and John does have a thing for yurts...

A Walking Disaster Area

It's been said of me with more frequency than I like to recall. About 10% of the time, it's true. Day 4 if the build was one such time. I burned my hand days before I was to leave Oz and I dropped a kitchen knife on my foot about a week before that but since then, I've been good. Day 4 was supposed to be the relatively fun day, where I got to go to the community farm and make bricks. I almost ended up in the fish pond, did send a shovel flying and managed to spend the afternoon tea time on in the doctors office.

The farm is run on land purchased by Habitat but managed by an Australian NGO (International Childrens Care Australia) with the community. There is a 5 year handover plan but it provides training and income for the community. The guys who ran it were sweethearts and the locals were incredibly patient with these groups of clueless Western desk jockeys.

The farm uses traditional Cambodian farming methods, including ploughing and raking with oxen teams (a form of Brahma cow), composting soil, using bamboo stakes in the gardening, and using traditional fishing nets on the fish farm. The farm currently grows a number of veggies and we helped plant bean seedlings (well, not me - I wouldn't inflict my black thumb on the poor unsuspecting things). I did drive the oxen cart to collect the compost, helped shovel the compost, and helped spread and work in the compost with a hoe. I also plow-surfed (I'm told its really called raking). The corn was recently harvested. I've specifically included a photo of me here shovelling compost for the amusement of my donors.

The farm also raises chicken for sale. We were told it is too hard to keep them for eggs because of avian flu risks. There appears to be no cohesive nationwide program to eradicate it. There is also a fish farm, which is fished using traditional weighted nets. There are also traditional canoes made from hollowed trees.

We got a chance to throw out the nets. They are quite heavy and it is harder than it looks. I came very close to falling in! A few minutes after my near miss, one of the local cops was inspired to give it a go. Unlike me, he did fall in! Shoes, mobile phone, and all. The locals were killing themselves laughing. I asked one of the ICC guys if anyone had fallen in before. "Not until now."

Lunch was its usual mystery mix except this time, I guessed incorrectly and ended up eating pork. I was fine for about a hour into the brick making before I had to leave the site and head to the doctor. He made me lie down in front of a cool fan with an icy cloth on my face and he gave me anti-nausea tablets. I stayed there until it was time to go back to the hotel.

However, I did get in an hour of brick making before that. I started by prepping the metal molds that make about 8 full-sized mud bricks. Prepping included scraping off the remnants of old bricks and painting the inside of the molds with diesel oil (just like greasing a big muffin pan). Then, a delivery of mud mix arrives and the mold is set on a tarp and watered. The mix is poured into the mold and tamped down, smoothed and grooved on one side. After awhile the mold can be removed, leaving the bricks to dry. They can then be moved to a curing area where they effectively bake in the sun.

The mix is sand, cement, local soil and water shoveled into huge mixmasters (bowl-type cement mixers). I had loaded up a shovel full of sand to put in the mixer, but because it was too heavy for me, the tip of the shovel blade got caught by the mixmaster blade, ripping the shovel out of my hands and sending it flying. Fortunately, no one was in its flight path and I kept my shovel loads smaller after that.

Upon repeating the days events to my husband, he was somewhat dismayed by my near misses. We all came through it alive, including me (although it was a few days until I was over the tummy bug).

Food - Drink - Lodging

Habitat put us up at the gorgeous Hotel Cambodiana. When doing my research, four comments stuck with me: (1) a beautiful facade, (2) a tired interior and infrastructure, (3) mediocre food, and (4) a slow lift. Most of these are true. While the facade is stunning, the bath tubs and counters need replacement and the water pressure is weak. The hot water is only warm (not really a problem since it doesnt really get cold here). The lift is incredibly slow but I used the stairs, which were a pretty hot and stuffy alternative but way quicker. The breakfasts were odd, but good. I enjoyed the sublime French pastries and omelets to order, but other things were a bit average.

Veggie options were awfully limited everywhere, not just at the hotel and there was a fair bit of mystery meat out there that landed me in the build site's doctor's office on one occasion.

The opening dinner was a buffet on the Mekong Deck. Brekis and day 3 dinner was in the adjacent dining room (also buffets). Morning and afternoon tea on site was often fruit. I learned to love rombutans (or eyeball fruit, apparently a close relative of the lychee). Lunch was always interesting but looked suspiciously like it was leftovers from the hotels buffetbof the night before. On day 1 they ran out of vego options, but subsequent days, the vego meals were labelled.

The end of Day 1 was at the Khmer Surin restaurant. Full points to any restaurant coping with 300 plus people. The local H4H guy explained that the Surin province was currently part of Thailand but had previously been part of Cambodia and the Surin people are influenced by the culture of both countries. The food of the place was obviously both Thai and Khmer. Mish and I sat with the esteemed leadership duo of Paul and Andy. Too tired for beer, we had coca-cola (ubiquitous and cheap) and a buffet dinner. Like all mass produced food options, it wasn't stellar, but then we were too tired to notice. We got directions from one of the local H4H guys to the Lucky Supermarket ("lucky" is the moniker for the biggest supermarket chain, the local fast food burger chain, as well as for our homeowner - many business names include the word). We bought diet coke, water, snacks and other supplies, for when lunch was too mysterious (or in Michelle's case, where lunch went missing).

Day 2 was a Vietnamese restaurant, Ngon. Again, full points for serving so many people. The food didn't stop coming, but they were reticent about bringing drinks, thereby reducing their earnings by many kiwis looking for cold beer. When beer was brought, it wasn't terribly cold and the restaurant itself was very hot and stuffy. Vego options were limited, again. Poor Mish has learned to embrace the fried rice.

We sat at a table hat included Jeff and Rema from Missouri, Anita from Hong Kong, and three other Americans (Stan, George, and Jan). Jeff and Rema are looking to be team leaders on a build to Bangladesh next year.

Day 3 was back at the hotel and a quiet affair. I had lasagna from the buffet and the refreshing, if light, Angkor beer. We sat with two of our team members, Karen and Lloyd. They are former dairy farmers and incredibly hard workers. Also, they are lovely people.

Day 4 dinner, I had managed to inadvertently eat pork at lunch and gave dinner a miss. It was a bit unwhelming by all reports. I ate rice crackers in the hotel room and slept lots.

Day 5 dinner for the closing ceremonies was on site. Again, lots of food and most of it was very good. I was a little unadventourous, but did try the fish amok, a traditional Khmer dish. It was a bit zingy but yummy. The best part of it was sharing it with our homeowner families.

Drinks were supposed to be on the Mekong Deck for Habitat vollies that night, but rain moved it indoors. The live band played Celine Dion at loud volumes. Rather than risking breaking out in hives (my usual reaction to Celine's music), we opted for a quiet beer and debrief.

Tonight was the first night away from the group. Mish and I hit happy hour at the FCC (foreign correspondents' club), a big expat hangout. Great cocktails (happy hour prices $6.50 for a pitcher of long island ice tea), great vego pizza, yummy NZ ice cream. Terrific setting overlooking the riverfront of PP, with breezes blowing off the water. We met up with Barbara and Ditmar from our team and had a lovely chat. On to Siem Reap tomorrow.

Operation Oi Oi Oi

Despite the APB put out on Kangie, no further intelligence is forthcoming. Everyone feigns ignorance, but there is a new development on the second day of the build. The inflatable kiwi bird (name unknown) goes missing. Suddenly, blame shifts to the two Australians on the team. However, we're convinced that this is just another attempt by the Kiwis to deflect attention from themselves in the case of the missing Kangie.

More speculation follows on day 3. But then, after lunch there is a break in the case. Teammate (and American - coincidence? I think not), Kris reports a sighting of Kangie. Upon questioning, her intelligence is confirmed. Operation Oi Oi Oi is put into effect in order to stage a Kangie rescue.

Kangie has been spotted through the window of one of the completed homes on the other side of the site. Surveillance shows she is not alone. The boy from day 1 is with her, as is his father. Cultural considerations dictate that we proceed with caution. We knock on the front door and, when answered, indicate (through a series of very complicated gestures) that we really need Kangie back at the build site until the build is over. The family appears to agree.

Once the delicate hostage negotiations have been successfully concluded, Kangie is returned to house 12 amid jubilation (okay, maybe just from Michelle and I). She is given medical attention that night (her crisis left her a bit deflated), but she is pronounced fit for service (no puncture or leak identified).

Coincidentally (harrumph), the inflatable kiwi also reappears a few hours later. It is sighted being included in a number of kiwi team photos.

With Kangie's return, the case of her abduction is closed. We may never know what really happened.

Hi Ho Hi Ho

The build itself is slog - pure and simple. Yes, it's for a good cause and yes, the homeowner is there and it's all worthwhile - still slog. It's hot and dirty work. I'm one of the unskilled labourers so I do a lot of little tasks. On the first day, it is trimming bricks (they are handmade mud bricks so sometimes need to scrape the edges to get a smooth line), and other prettying duties. Cleaning up both dry and damp grout lines, scrubbing the brick faces, and the inevitable floor cleaning at the end. Brick and grout dust are in every pore and airway. Because we are only up to the bottom of the windows, I'm working quite low and my back is sore.

We break every 2 to 2 and a half hours, with other breaks as needed. Morning tea, lunch, and afternoon tea. We have an appointed house mother, Karen, whose job it is to nag us to drink enough, take enough breaks, wear sunscreen, etc. She feels responsible when house leader Paul has a bit of a turn at the end of the day because he didn't really eat at lunch. Apparently, in 2009 in Cambodia, there was a heat wave during the build and on day 1, they had 100 people on IV drips to rehydrate them. They are hoping to avoid that this year.

In addition to the house mother, there are also the water angels who come around with wheel barrows full of water bottles and electrolyte drinks in icy water. They also have spray on sunscreen and icy wet facecloths to put around your neck. Despite drinking nearly 3L of water, I sweat it all out on the first day.

When we return at the end of that first day, the looks on the faces of the immaculate, genteel hotel staff are priceless. They are clearly horrified when 200 westerners return to their hotel covered in sweat, dirt and dust at the end of the day. No doubt, this is not the usual behavior of their clientele. I'm not sure they were fully briefed on what we would be doing.

The second build day I'm filling in holes in the mortar work. From my mosiac days, I find I'm better using my hands (gloved) than trowels. I become known as a pedant. In the afternoon, I'm actually laying bricks. By the end of the day, we have the windows in and have bricked around to the top of them. I now feel like I could build a retaining wall on my own. I use terms like "rebar", "flush", "string line", and "plumb" like a pro.

It is bit hotter on day 2 but no incidents on our site. I hear that one of the other teams had someone fall off scaffolding, but no serious injuries.

Day 3 is known as the hardest day. It is so far one of the hottest. The scaffolding is up so we are all in hard hats. Good thing too since the scaffolding is Cambodian people height and I hit my head a few thousand times during the day. Because the brickwork is quite high, we are mainly runners for the guys on the scaffolds, passing buckets of mortar, buckets of water for the bricks, bricks, and whatever else they need.

Housemum Karen is at the farm so bossy britches Yank (me) is the house mum for the day. The angels have lost interest and we rarely see them. There is no more freebie sunscreen. For the guys on the metal scaffolding, it has to be even hotter. I'm ruthless with my team. When morning tea comes, I holler out break time, adding "And don't make me tell you again!" I become the water angel (sans sunscreen), bring cold water, electrolyte drinks and icy towels to the site frequently. On one such run, I ask team leader Andy if he needs water. when he replies that he still has some, I retort "That means you're not drinking enough!" Despite my efforts, Andy is down in the afternoon with a bit of heat stroke. By the end of the day we are laying the ventilation bricks near the roofline. The roof will go on the next day.

This is life at the moment, long bus ride, slog, long bus ride. Nearly too tired to eat at the end of the day. Day 1 we couldn't even face a beer at the end of the day, we were that exhausted. We joke that the experience is either (1) like a chain gang - with a fancy hotel; (2) like a contiki tour for do-gooders; or (3) like a school camp with alcohol that you are allowed to have.

At the end of Day 3, an organizer announces that at our hotel that night is a wedding party. The hotel has asked us to use the side door and go straight up the stairs. I hear of a former build where H4H stayed at a beautiful hotel in Shanghai and were asked to don disposable booties before re-entering the hotel.

Day 4 for me is the farm and brick making. Kind of a half day off from the slog, I'm looking forward to it. The farm is awesome but in the afternoon, it's my turn in the first aid office. I inadvertently have pork for lunch (reminder to self - if you don't know what it is, don't eat it). I take the evening at the hotel to recover. The slog is nearly done.

Welcoming the roo

The Welcoming Ceremony consists of hundreds of school kids and local volunteers lining both sides of the road, waving little Cambodianian flags and bowing with their hands together, the traditional Khmer greeting. Kangie is a big hit with kids and grown ups alike when she returns the traditional greeting. Kids high five Kangie. She works the line like a pro. We are given necklace made of looped ribbon. A brief welcoming speech and we head to our house for a safety and orientation briefing.

Our house - number 12- already has the foundations laid and about 2 courses of brickwork. Happily there is also a loo already constructed and operational. When I finally have the need to avail myself of it at then end of the following day, I see that it "flushes" by pouring a scoop of water into it from the nearby bucket. I'm reminded of my days at the commune when we used leftover shower water to flush the toilets. At least it's not a squat toilet.

We stow our belongings and find one little boy has followed Kangie to the build site. He feigns disinterest in Kangie, but hangs around. Michelle prods Kangie closer. The boy pushes it away. This game continues until the kid finally embraces Kangie. A few moments later he and Kangie are gone. He doesn't reappear. We've been played and vow to continue the search for Kangie at the markets, where she is probably being sold as stolen goods.

Although there are unconfirmed sightings of Kangie thoughout the day, she doesn't return to the build site. It's official, Kangie was roo-napped within an hour of arriving on the build site. Missing for the requisite 10 hours, authorities are notified and an All Points Bulletin put out. A reward is offered for her safe return. Meanwhile, the smaller, less impressive, less identifiable kiwi bird remains unmolested.

Suspicion falls on the New Zealand team. Their glee is palpable. The had motive, means and opportunity. The kid may have been a bit player in the sad saga. We now believe the mastermind to have been team leader Andy. Investigations continue.

And we're off

So it's day one of the build. We start out early - breaki at 6 for a 7 am bus departure. Yummy breakfast buffet offers everything from custom-ordered omelets and custom noodle soup to pain au chocolat. I note that I'll need to make future plans for my caffeine needs.

Bus 3 (containing teams for houses 10, 11, and 12) is my new home away from home away from home. I'll spend hours here over the next week. Once on the bus, roll call begins as the sweet local Habitat guy makes sure we are all there by attempting to pronounce our western names - many snickers over "Semen" (Simon). I'm Zuzanne.

Michelle makes a grand entrance carrying a big inflatable kangaroo, complete with both a Joey and boxing gloves. The busload of mostly kiwis jeers and calls for "pns" and other sharp objects in order to pop Kangie. Our team leader, Andy, immediately starts blowing up the inflatable kiwi bird he brought.

Various incarnations of Kangie were beloved mascots on Michelle's earlier builds. It only seems right that she makes an appearance in Cambodia.

The bus ride in is fascinating, interesting, sobering. Phnom Penh traffic is bizarre, but somehow works. Trucks give way to bicycles and tuk tuks vie with motor scooters carrying, on average, 3 people. The family commuter car here is not the 4WD. I promise myself I'll take a picture when I see more than 4 on a scooter or if they start building on the second story.

PP clearly has some money, but beautiful new house are built amongst ramshackle wooden huts. Bently and Lexus cars are also around the place, but so are horse-drawn carriages on a main street in PP.

Many business names include "international", "world" and "global", including the World's Best School, a rundown small bedraggled compound. There is also a weird emphasis on dental clinics - my favorite sign proclaimed a business to be the Shine Your Charming Smile Dental Clinic.

As we get into more rural areas, there are cows and dogs and chickens roaming free. We see fish farms and a roadside stand every 50 meters. They sell fruit, water, sodas and trinkets. Kids wave at the buses full of westerners going past. Michelle reminds me that being in the window seat means I must fulfill my waving duties.

We pull into the Oudong Tourist Resort - there appears to be a temple of some sort and a marketplace, but nothing else about it says resort to me. It is beautiful country - very green with lots of water. We finally arrive at the build site. I estimate that it has taken about a hour to get there.