Friday 24th November 2006
Gerry Fennell - Gerry Fennell
Day 6 - The Last Hurrah! After another late night – I was more than surprised to see that everyone was up and ready to rock onto the buses at 7.30am – although there were a few bleary eyes everyone was in great form – feels like we are at home today and the rain has arrived, just as are finishing the show house which is due to be handed over at 12pm, and when you stand back to look at the house we are proud of the work we have done and very proud to be Irish.. We are looking forward to visiting the local school as our farewell to the Mfuleni Township – several people have toys and clothes for the children and they will be presented this afternoon I have to say the gang of volunteers has been extraordinary and I have met many more friends whom I hope I will know forever. Last but not least I would like to thank Noonan Construction, Dublin for their sponsorship to send me on the Blitz and of course, our leader the legend of a man Niall Mellon for giving me a life changing experience – the plans are underway to come back next year.
Clem Cairns - Orange Team
Today is the last one. A bit of a clean up. A million photographs of puce-faced, well-bellied paddies covered with chocolate shaded children. Lollipops appear like loaves and fishes at some ancient gathering. The finished houses look handsome in green, yellow and white paint. The keys are handed over to families who lived in shacks till yesterday. Today a proper house with a bathroom, kitchen, and bedrooms. A front door you could put a lock on. There’s joy. There’s satisfaction for us latter-day navies. There’s something salutary in seeing the gruffest, roughest, most foul-mouthed Irish builder’s eyes moisten and cheeks shine wet when the new woman of the house hugs him. That’d open the crack in your heart wide enough to feel the wind blow through. Leonard Cohen in one of his ballads sings of the fault-line that exists in all things - “There’s a crack, a crack in everything, It’s where the light gets in.” It can happen to your heart on a week like this - the crack that begins to show when you first see the shacks, the destitution, the simply beautiful barefoot children (the permanent runny nose, we’re told, is a sign of the AIDS virus), and the hopelessness of many of the men. You have to harden up a bit - to work and function generally. Sure its what we’re good at, papering over the cracks. It’s a salutary week. You instinctively reflect on your own life and circumstances, and invariably come up grateful for our prosperity and so on. But there’s a fair bit of reflection on what we seem to lack. Don’t hear anyone hankering after any kind of good auld days in Ireland, (and the only throwback is Martin who speaks to everyone, black and white, in Irish and English), so I’m not sure its something we once had and lost. We were always a miserable bunch. But whatever brings out the smiles, the music and the movement in these people we don’t have nor ever did in equal measure. If we could learn something from our hosts it would be the source of that, but it’s as mysterious as God herself. And here’s a gift that we receive from these wonderful, resilient people. I’m not voicing only my sentiment when I write this, but literally of all the volunteers I spoke to. We get as much as we give here. The feeling of experiencing your own humanity through working selflessly for someone else is not something I‘m used to nor will I take it up full time when I get home. It’s an equal exchange, just the currency is different.
The Final Curtain – Paula Cullen (Blue Team)
We were under pressure to finish our “show house” on the Thursday evening as it was discovered after we had finished painting that the sewage system was wrong and the garden would have to be dug up. Unfortunately the lads had already landscaped the little garden and put in some topsoil. Locals worked until 9 o’clock at night to get the problem solved. We were told that we would have to touch up the paintwork the following morning as the house was to be handed over to the new owner at 11.30 am.
I paid a quick visit to Mfuleni High School to present them with a set of Blackrock College RFC jerseys that the club had very kindly given to me. The principal was delighted with the gift and in particular the fact that they were blue and white - the school colours.
Friday morning started with heavy rain to remind us of home. The crew were still repairing the sewage problem. The painting crew were ready to start touching up when it was discovered that “the bakkie” (pick up truck and driver) had not collected the paint tins and brushes the night before. Unfortunately if anything is left behind it immediately gathers legs and disappears !!.
Anthony Bools our painting leader had luckily put away a special tin of blue paint the night before so between the showers we tried to get the house finished. My idea of painting the sills white proved to be a bit of a headache as the rain continually washed the white onto the blue paint. We finally got everything finished and Marguerite and Libby even went to the trouble of getting blue check curtains for the windows. Vera went to a nearby garden centre with the lads and brought home a couple of very smart pots to hang at the front door. The final result was fantastic.
The handing over of the house was quite an emotional occasion for all of us. Even the hardy lads were seen to shed a little tear as the new owners danced for joy at the idea of finally owning a brick house. I presented the lady of the house with a lovely bouquet of flowers that had been sent to me from Johanasburg. It was not practical for me to bring them home.
The blue team led by John Moore and ably assisted by John Keegan had exceeded their target and I was told later that we completed 5 more houses than our nearest rivals. (This was obviously the result of all work and no play for our group ).
