Good morning, dear reader!
I’m writing to you from a pink Airbnb in Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. I managed to survive a spot of motion sickness on the flight and arrived here yesterday afternoon.
I’ll be staging here for about a week in preparation for a two-month volunteer trip to the Bahamas. I’m currently living in a comfortable 3-bedroom Floridian home, which becomes decidedly less comfortable when you live with 15 other people. I’m here on behalf of All Hands And Hearts, a disaster relief organization which “addresses the immediate and long-term needs of communities impacted by natural disasters.”
After spending a grand total of ten months living in quasi-lockdown/quarantine at home, it feels so strange to be traveling and living in close quarters with many other strangers. Just a tad uncomfy, perhaps. However, I’ve been taking comfort in reminding myself that my motivations for coming are not entirely self-serving, that there is a tangible positive impact that I will be making with quite literally my own two (gloved) hands.
The Bahamas program will run until April 3rd. From now until then, I’ll be living and working in communal spaces, following a rigorous work schedule on a construction site, and learning and working to the best of my ability. I’m a little nervous about handling the tools. The closest I’ve gotten to construction work was organizing my dad’s toolkit when he drilled a few screws into the wall. I wasn’t even home to observe when we remodeled the upstairs bathroom and flooring.
So. I’m just a tad uncomfortable. But this is where I grow, is it not?