Ben Portman Archives

It is 8:45 a.m. on Saturday, March 10, and most of the group is on the road enr oute to Newark Airport. Most of the group stayed at Bucknell last night while a small group left yesterday and stayed at a house in New Jersey. Of the nine of us enjoying the hospitalities and close proximity of the Ostrofsky house, there remains one of us who is refusing to get out of bed.

Rest assured, we will make it to the airport in time and reunite with the rest of the group.

The group arrived at the airport in several groups, and did not rendezvous until everyone reached the gate. The flight itself was fairly uneventful and smooth with one major exception. After taking role for the group, one of our courageous leaders, Jamie, heard that our flight had a slight delay and decided to go to the restroom before take off. Apparently, when the pilot said that there was "a slight delay," slight was the key word. Within two minutes of his message the plane was speeding down the runway with poor Jamie trapped in the restroom.

Sunday was a "day off" in which the group willingly woke up and loaded the vans by 9 a.m. in eager anticipation of South Beach. The sand, ocean, shopping, and famous social scene had been tempting us since we first learned that we would have this precious day to ourselves. Upon arrival, we hurried to the beach and "play time" commenced. Many of us went for a run. Some went straight to the water. Others settled in for a day of sunbathing.

Today began with an orientation program at another church conducted by the Miami volunteer coordinator. He explained the different sights and the goal of Miami's Habitat chapter. They are charged with being the main outlet for upgrades to low-income housing and, as such, must try to create entire communities in an attempt to inspire change and lower crime in these areas. This program ended and again had the day free to prepare for the long work days ahead of us.

It is 4:50 a.m. when the first cell phone alarm marks the begining of the day. Four-fifty is an hour of the day that is so foreign to us as college students that most of us are even unsure how to even act. Some bound with energy to the bathroom and exude excitment for the build. The rest are groggy and stumble their way through their morning routines. Out of fear of the Miami traffic, we depart for the site at 6:15 to make the 7:30 start time.

As we got to know everyone better, we learned that one of the sophomores on the trip had recently been recognized by the University for his proficiency in writing. As such, we decided that as an interesting twist we would allow him to write our experiences in the form of an epic story. The following passage is the chapter for the first day of work. Our author is a dark but comedic writer who uses vivid imagery to envoke reactions in his readers. The stories are factually correct, but are still narrowly focused in an attempt to highlight some of the most outrageous aspects of our trip. Enjoy....

Wednesday started off similar to Tuesday, minus the hypodermic needles and dime bags. When we got to the house, they divided us into two groups: painters and interior. I decided to go interior because I am dumb.

So, we were doing landscaping about one block away from the construction site. We needed the wheel barrows to move the sand into the trench between the two houses. We walked through the shaded crevice to the front of the houses, and got the wheel barrows, shovels, and rakes. We returned to the back of the house where the sand pile was.