January 26, 2010:

It has been a little over two weeks since we were in New Orleans together and we’ve already been reunited! As a group, we are trying to find ways to bring our experiences from New Orleans back to Binghamton. Right now, we’re working on organizing some fundraising opportunities that would go to Hurricane Katrina relief and hopefully directly to some of the people who we worked with in the lower 9th ward. In honor of traditional New Orleans, we are hoping to have some kind of celebratory event around Mardi Gras.

I have had an ample amount of time to reflect about my experience in New Orleans and its affect on my life. Here are some things that I know. I know that because our trip was affiliated with Binghamton University, I now have a new group of friends to become closer with at school. I know that I will become more active with BU’s Hillel because I feel more comfortable based on my experience in New Orleans. I know that I learned a lot about what it means to do social justice work and how rewarding it is to be involved in such a thing. I know that what we did and what we saw in New Orleans cannot be described in words. That being said, I think it would be beneficial for anyone and everyone to be able to experience the same thing. It is such a great feeling to say that you know you made a difference in someone’s life. I think I am speaking for everyone in the group when I say that we have done that.

All of the group trips that I have been on have always left me with life-changing experiences. Whether it is a new friend or something new that I learned about myself or how to do – these kinds of trips are so important in building who I am as a person and who I want to become. Anyone who has done a group trip will probably agree that it is one of the best things our parents have ever done for us. This trip has just added to the list of good experiences I have had with these kinds of trips and I am positive that this will not be my last one.

P.S. People from all over are STILL thanking me (and I’m sure other people in our group) for the work that we did when we were in New Orleans. That proves the importance of the work and shows that people outside of New Orleans understand that there is still work that needs to be done.

Even though days have passed since our excursion on Jourdan street, all I can think about is that journal. I keep wondering what I would write if some stranger found my journal, tangled under a mountain of “junk” left in a shed. The old saying “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure” rings true, and Carol and her story are permanently imprinted in the back of my mind. When the journal was first found, it seemed as if just another object was uncovered. But taking a closer look into Carol’s life, her family and personal experiences were, no pun intended, unearthed. After investigating her journal, we began to look for objects relating to Carol’s life, eventually finding her son’s schoolwork and prized baseball cards.

The “gutting excursion” soon became less of a job and more of a challenge, finding evidence that there was a history I this house before Katrina. We found postcards, a baseball mitt, and several pairs of shoes. I learned a lot about Carol in the beginning, like that she was a diabetic (from insulin pumps found) and having financial issues (from recorded entries in her journal). But in the back of my mind, I kept thinking of pinpoints in my life that I would enter into the journal.  What would take precedence in my journal: the day I got my very first dog or my bat-mitzvah? This decision was not as simple as I would have thought, in part because sharing my life with others seems extreme. I could never imagine letting my thoughts and deepest secrets land in the arms of complete strangers via a journal book. And after looking at these faded entries for a pretty extensive time, I realized I didn’t have the strength to let my life flash before me on pages… I didn’t have the courage. To allow something so sacred as a life to be put into the hands of people I had no idea of was to me, an act of fulfillment. To let go of life is one thing, but for someone else to put the pieces together is just astonishing.

Speaking of bravery, I have one more story to share…

As the bus drove past 1814 Arts streets, thoughts raced through my mind immediately. What will it look like, what else needed to be done, was Merlin home? Merlin, or “magician” as he is known from last year’s group, was an elderly man who live the single life. After being hit by Katrina, the winds destroyed his home, but more importantly his roof. As we read his story in January of 2009 (this memory is referring to last year’s alternative winter trip), I began to realize that I served a greater purpose than I thought when I signed up for this trip. The next day, we arrived at Merlin’s house ready to work. The roof was in shambles, and the exterior was chipping away at the roots. Working on that house all week, we learned a lot about Merlin. He told us stories about his life, asked us about ours, and was openly honest about the effects on his life from Katrina. After that long week, the exterior house was painted white, the porches powder blue, and the shutters were polished green. That trip left me with the greatest sense of accomplishment, and actually seeing the visual results was absolutely astounding.

So as the bus drove past 1814 Arts, my heart raced. The bus stopped, I looked out, and I began to tear up. The house was unbearably incredible, the paint was glistening and the roof was patched to the nines. As I told my story to this year’s group on the bus, my voice began to crack. To work on a house or a project is one thing, but knowing who the person is and his history made the connection even stronger. Such a genuine man deserved an incredible house, and MY group was the one to give it to him. Not only did the group last year give Merlin a physical house, but we also built him a home. There was something about Merlin that I couldn’t describe- a characteristic that I have never seen in anybody else. And even now, I still do not know what that word is, and I do not think I can ever put letters to it. The magic of Merlin lives on, in the house, as well as in me.

My inability to write for the past few days is due to the fact that we have been very, very busy.  Our days start so early and end late into the night that it becomes difficult to find time to inform ya’ll about what we’re doing. There are a few parts of the experiences that I’ve had over the past few days that I wanted to highlight.

Last night was the first night the group got a taste of the New Orleans that I know and love. We ventured into the French Quarter to experience, first hand, the night life of New Orleans. Our first stop was at the historic Preservation Hall where we waited in line for about an hour to see the jazz show. Before we got there, some of my peers were wondering what was so historic about a tattered, old building. However, once the music started, I think we all instantly understood the vibrant history and talent that has taken place in that room and caused it to become so famous. For those of you who have never heard of Preservation Hall, it is a space that has just enough room to fit the band, a few benches for older people to sit in, a few cushions for people to sit on the floor and standing room for the rest of the room. Each show is approximately one hour and they do three shows Monday through Saturday. The musicians were all incredibly talented and the atmosphere of the room was unrivaled to any musical performance experience I have ever had. After the performance, we traveled as a group around Bourbon Street and, once again, learned about why the culture of New Orleans is so notorious. Our night ended in the most perfect way possible: at Café Du Monde, enjoying beignets (fried dough-like pastries with powdered sugar) and the company of one another.

Today was another busy day filled with more caulking, scrapping, sanding and removal of waste/debris from inside the home. I have now been at Lathan’s house on Burgundy Street for the past three days. Since I have been able to watch the progress of the project over this time, I can really see how much we are doing and what our help is changing in these peoples’ lives. Of course,  Steve continued with his story telling and had all of us enthralled with his captivating life. Lathan stopped by a few times to provide added entertainment. There is really nothing like Southern hospitality.

Tomorrow is our last “work” day due to Shabbat, starting Friday night and continuing into Saturday. For me, it will be a bittersweet final day. I enjoy doing the work and look forward to seeing the people of the lower 9^th ward that we have built relationships. That being said, I am overtired and ready to enjoy myself in New Orleans as well. I believe that this kind of experience is one that takes time to settle in. It takes time to realize what you did and how you did it and what it is going to change; in essence, what you have changed. This concept is something that has been difficult for me to wrap my head around because it is new to me and deeply emotionally involved.

Time for some group learning and then, weather permitting, some friends and I will be trying to find a place that my parents suggested we go to for some good Southern food. I’ll be sure to tell you how this adventure goes because I have been dying for a bowl of gumbo. Until then…Sophie.

Day 2:

Day 2 started off with a chill.  New Orleans was experiencing cold weather that we didn’t expect.  Rolling out of bed I quickly dressed by following each shirt with another adding layer after layer.  I ended up walking out the door in a t-shirt, long sleeve shirt, sweatshirt and jacket on the top, with two pairs of pants on the bottom.  This had to be the best way to do it and those layers definitely proved their worth throughout the day.

When we got to the church half of us were going to go back to the house we began to gut yesterday, while the other half were going to Lathan’s other house getting it ready to paint.  I decided to switch locations and try something new so I grabbed my gloves and headed over to paint.  What I didn’t know was that painting the entire exterior of a house was a much more complex task than I thought.  It didn’t just involve paint and brushes but caulk, primer and pliers, oh my! 

Some of these terms were foreign to me such as the caulk and the caulk guns.  However, the company name written on the side of the tubes was ALEX so clearly I needed to step up to the challenge.  I was a little shaky at first, not really making the caulk come out so effectively.  Steve, our guide for the day and also a friend of Lathan’s, was making it look so easy.  But as the day went on and I observed his motion and had a lot of practice runs, I ended up falling into my own rhythm and really getting the hang of it!  Even Steve noticed, and before I knew it I was standing on a board resting between two ladders caulking away.

After the work day we had the privilege of getting a tour around the lower ninth ward.  Snacking on granola bars and clementines, we got a first-hand look at the different views on rebuilding the area.  We stopped at the Global Green site where some of my group members had pulled nails; and also stopped at Brad Pitt’s project, Make it Right. 

It was at one of his houses that we met a beautiful six year old girl named Shayana, who is living with her grandfather until her own family’s house is built.  She brought us out on the balcony where she excitedly detailed many different parts of our life.  A natural hostess, she definitely enjoyed the company.  While we were entertained by her too, it was also really interesting to hear some things from such a young point of view.  Both her cousin and grandmother died in the hurricane and she showed us exactly where it happened.  Charmed by her cuteness and spunk we didn’t want to have to leave.  She felt the same way and as we left said, “the best part of the tour was y’all.”

A big part of this trip is hearing personal stories directly from the source instead of reading an article about it or seeing it on the news.  Meeting a real person who has gone through it all provides a deeper meaning and understanding of the tragic event.  Although none of us will ever be able to understand fully, hearing these detailed personal stories provides greater motivation to do our service.  Shayana inspired me to keep going and her smile is one I will never forget.

Day 2 has been a long day and it is not over yet. I woke up at 6:45AM in order to be ready for my duties for breakfast preparation by 7:15AM. When we arrived in the lower 9^th ward we split into three different groups. I chose to go scrap, paint, and caulk Lathan’s (a homeowner) home. (One important detail I have been forgetting to add is how FREEZING it is here and how unprepared everyone was for the degree of coldness. I have now made two trips to the local Walgreen’s in order to buy clothing to better suit this weather.) Anyways, while the group began to work, we learned how to scrap old paint off of the exterior of Lathan’s house and then caulk (a type of glue that is used to fill in holes and connect tattered wood) the areas that needed it. I found it hard to stay warm and therefore hard to do work in the morning. By 11:30AM, the sun had come out and I think that our group began to get its spirits back. I am sure that the stories from Steve, Lathan’s friend, helped boost our energy because he was very humorous and had interesting stories to share.

The second part of my work day was much more energized and warm. A few of the girls in my group and I began painting Lathan’s front entrance/porch area. I tried to use the paint roller for the ceiling of the porch but was unsuccessful due to my height and arm strength. I took over painting a wall, which I took great pleasure in. It was kind of relaxing and involved very meticulous, detailed work because you had to make sure every area was covered. I also enjoyed this part of the work day because Lathan was with us and he is a high-spirited man that has a lot of Southern pride. Although we did not finish our work at Lathan’s today, there is always tomorrow. I will most likely return to finish our work there because I have a connection to the work already and am eager to see the finished product. I’m hoping for decent weather tomorrow; preferably warmer and no rain would be excellent. I expect to learn a lot about both construction and the community of the lower 9^th ward tomorrow based on the way the past two days have been.

This experience is unlike any other experience I have had in that I am doing something good (i.e. community service) but it somehow feels necessary. I know that the student volunteers are integral to the rehabilitation and rebuilding of this vibrant community in New Orleans. We are about to start a group session and then I have no idea what else is planned for the night. They really work us here and make it so when the day is “over,” which is at like 10:00PM, almost everyone is ready to go to bed. These long days are rewarding but also extremely tiring. Who knows what adventures and learning experiences will happen tomorrow. Until then....Sophie.

Day #1:  January 4

It’s  funny how time flies. I’ve been with this group for a little more than 48 hours and I feel like I’ve been here for weeks. Things that I thought weren’t going to be familiar are becoming easier to understand (i.e. how to get around, how to use the keys to our buildings properly, getting over the fact that we are not at some fancy hotel, etc.) and all the days are blurring into one.

My background information about New Orleans is that my parents lived in New Orleans for numerous years and my sister was born here. I have visited New Orleans at least five times, however, since Hurricane Katrina, I have not been here. My parents have many friends that still live in New Orleans and when I visit, I am used to staying in their beautiful homes in the Garden District. I guess you could say we get treated like royalty when we come to visit because it is so infrequent. My parents know vast amounts of information about New Orleans so when I visit with them, they are like my tour guides.

This trip has been a completely different experience for me already. I flew from my home to the airport in Syracuse in near-blizzard conditions. My plane from Syracuse to Washington was about an hour delayed due to various issues (deicing, broken baggage carrier). Therefore, I missed my connection to New Orleans and missed out on some bonding time and adventuring with the group. However, I felt caught up within hours of being here.

Yesterday was the first day of our service project. I had so many expectations of what it would be like to see the lower 9^th ward as well as actively helping people recover from the damages of Hurricane Katrina. While we were driving through, I heard some people say that they were surprised how built up everything was already. I was shocked that they could even think that. It has been over five years since the storm hit and there is still a lot of work to be done, not only in people’s homes but in the community of the lower 9^th ward. You would think that living in the United States of America would mean that if a natural disaster hit your city, the recovery would be quick; five years is not quick. Many houses still have the date that they were entered and how many people were found dead on the house. Perhaps it is because these people could not afford to rebuild their homes or because they chose not to come back to New Orleans. Whatever the reason is, it is devastating to see and difficult to be able to handle both emotionally and physically.

Larry, our group’s bus driver, was a resident of the lower 9^th ward pre-Katrina and gave us his story as we drove through his former community. Due to his experiences with Katrina and with the destruction of his former life, I find it interesting that he chose to drive busses of volunteers that are here to rebuild his life. Is it coincidental or is it for a purpose? Does it provide him with closure or happiness to see what is changing and what we as volunteers are doing for his community? I would really like to know and think that he is an extremely valuable resource for our trip that most may overlook.

On Day 1, our group split up between two different projects. The group I worked with did work for a new project in the lower 9^th ward called Global Green. It is a non-profit group that is working to build green, energy-efficient homes in the area. Our job for the day was to go through scrap wood that had been already used for former builds and get all the nails and screws out of the wood. While this may seem like a minimal task and something that really is not going to make a difference, it is the complete opposite. After spending over fifteen minutes on one screw, you will realize that pulling rusted, broken, twisted, mutilated screws and nails out of tarnished pieces of woods is quite a job. At first, I thought that I would never be able to pull any nails out but after a few tries, I started to get the hang of it. By the end of our work day, we had it “down to a science” and were helping each other with our areas of “expertise.” 

Another thing that I noticed was that EVERY single person we have encountered, regardless of the relationship we had with them, made sure to thank us for the work we were doing and expressed how grateful they were for our help. At first, I thought that the home owners had been told to say thank you as well as the other community members, but that changed when EVERYONE started saying it. The people of New Orleans truly need help and understand that we could be doing anything right now and we chose to be here. It is so gratifying to feel appreciated and needed. However, it is also difficult to comprehend because you would think that after five years, they would no longer need this help and perhaps not be as thankful. Nevertheless, this is not the case.   Until then…Sophie.

The 7:00 AM alarm brought me out of my heavy sleep with a jolt.  After a long day of traveling the day before, I was exhausted and sleep came quickly.   When I woke up I was confused at first.  But once I came into consciousness I suddenly remembered where I was and became energized at the thought of the day’s events.  I was in New Orleans, Louisiana to help victims of the terrible flood resulting from the storm known as Hurricane Katrina.  I was ready to dive in and create an experience unlike any one that I’ve had before.

After breakfast and some stretches, we boarded the bus that would take us on our way.  The first stop was a church where we met a grateful, passionate woman called Warenetta, who was named after her father.  She was completely devoted to rebuilding the area and used her spirit to light up the town that was left behind.  She informed us of our assignments for the day and provided us with gloves and gear to get to work.  Our team was split up into two groups-one group was going to do some nail pulling, while the second group (my group)went to gut a house.

We got to the house that a nice man named Lathan was working on for his brother, a single dad who had just bought the home a year ago.  While some people stayed in the house and swept and cleared the old flooring and debris, the rest of us were brought to the old rectangular shed lined with rust directly behind.  The shed was packed high with stuff, a lot that we presumed belonged to the family who lived there before while some of it was carried in by the flood.

When we saw this, we had to stop and stare at the daunting task in front of us.  There were huge cabinet pieces that were turned every which way and mountainous piles including everything from shampoo bottles to old checkbooks to a box of floppy disks.  After building our muscles by carrying out some heavy wood cabinetry, we started digging through the piles of stuff carrying out as much as we could to clear the shed.  Throughout this journey we found a Monsters Inc. dvd, a baseball mitt, and a cassette tape.  However, the most valuable find of the day was an old journal we found digging through the rubble.  We had seen notebooks and financial statements before that were only sifted through, but it was this diary that sparked out interest and gave us a personal look at what life was like in this neighborhood a long time ago, even before the storm, dating back to 1999, 2000 and 2001.  The book only included a few entries from these years but gave us a first-hand look at into a real woman’s life.  We discovered the struggle of her financial situation, her tasks on a daily basis and information about her children.

The journal resulted in a big group huddled around lingering on every word this faithful woman had to say.  A woman’s journal is a microscope focusing into the most important aspects of her life.  While many may look at our actions as snooping, that was the farthest thing from my mind.  This book of thoughts symbolized so much more than that.  We were clearing the house so a new family could move in and create life in a town that looked so destroyed.  By reading the journal we put together pieces of the old life around us and made our journey, and the journey of this house tangible and real.  Instead of this experience being a part of our lives, it was like we were a part of the neighborhood’s life.

This little treasure in a pile of rust, dirt and junk was the subject of conversation for much of the day.  Day 1 left us proud, intrigued and humble.  I can’t wait to uncover more stories tomorrow.