There are piles of rubble everywhere, partly and completely shattered houses , some patched together, a wall standing here, a stairway there, people living in chaos and these are better off than those living in the camps, at least in terms of possessions they have lost.
In searing heat, with flimsy shovels and ramshackle wheel barrows, we moved piles of rubble and masonry ready for building foundations. Local children were fantastic, really getting stuck in lifting huge blocks. We learnt a few more words of Sinhala as we went along � heavy, light, big, little, right, left.
People took us to their destroyed homes. We went along paths between rubble that used to be roads. Washing was strung up across gaping holes in walls, people washed themselves at a standpipe. The man selling fish cycled through � life goes on!
The children smiled and smiled. An odd man came to show us his foot with a missing toe�.
We sweated, drank lots of bottled water, shovelled and got covered in dust. We kept finding remnants of peoples� lives, a sandal, a cup, part of a basket, a hair slide, a plate, a piece of bowl, a bag � very emotional, but, more than anything, such a poignant reminder that our possessions have no real lasting meaning. We were shown such kindness. Despite difficult conditions and such poverty, someone cooked us pokara (like savouries) and another family bought us all a bottle of cream soda, brought on a tray with glasses. We sat on plastic chairs amongst the rubble to enjoy them.
The houses will be built in the middle of rubble and chaos. We have seen no evidence of a government rebuilding programme here. There is a controversial rule that house cannot be built within 100m of the sea, so we believe that all the rubbish and half-standing buildings will remain within the zone for years to come.
We went in turn with other volunteers to clear the sites. We then worked over the weeks (as well as continuing with our teaching and arts & crafts and elders� programmes, schedule organisation etc.) alongside local construction workers, mixing concrete, moving it in a bucket or metal dish to the site of the foundations. With our hands and the occasional use of a trowel, we piece together large pieces of rock.
The people selling pieces of pineapple (delicious with chilli!) and coconuts do a brisk trade when we are at the sites. The work is overseen by a professional contractor but volunteers are providing the general labour. Over the weeks, we have also built walls and seen the houses taking shape. We hope to see one finished before we leave.
We come �home� filthy and exhausted but what we do is very tangible and therefore satisfying. On the flip side, it is difficult to reconcile that we build houses for so few when so many are still homeless.
