Thousands of volunteers helped local partner families build 100 homes near Lonavala, India, during the weeklong 2006 Jimmy Carter Work Project.

Looking Back, Looking Ahead
The Jimmy Carter Work Project moves from India to Los Angeles in 2007

You could win a trip!

Habitat for Humanity's annual Jimmy Carter Work Project is almost a living thing. Each project has its own personality, its own cast of characters, its own legacy for the homeowners, volunteers and staff who participate.

Volunteer Frann Anderson, a social worker from Delaware, discovered that last year's project in India was no different. In the March 2006 issue of Habitat World, the editors of the magazine introduced an essay contest with a prize of an expenses-paid trip to the JCWP 2006 in India. Frann won the contest with a poignant commentary on what "home" means from the perspective of her father, who was slowly losing a battle with Alzheimer's. He died in the months between the essay contest and the trip, so the trip took on a special significance as Frann traveled with some 2,000 volunteers to Lonavala for a week of building, laughing, struggling, thinking and, ultimately, writing.

During the event, Frann posted a day-by-day diary about the people she met and the things she did (available at www.habitat.org/jcwp/2006/blogs). The following thoughts are her reflections on the experience after returning home:

Habitat World's 2006 essay contest winner Frann Anderson hard at work in India.

I returned from India five days ago, sore from all of the manual labor and sitting for hours on planes, exhausted from jet lag and more than a little queasy from a stomach virus (I didn't drink the water, but something found its way into my system anyway!). I thought that I would return home with a great satisfaction and sense of accomplishment, yet what I find in actuality is a great sense of despair for the poor of India and the nagging feeling that building one small village is not nearly enough.

India has become a story of paradoxes for me. The contradiction of beautiful men and women dressed in magnificent colors living in tattered tents and flimsy structures made from scraps of cloth and any other material that can be found; a father tenderly smoothing out the creases of a bed roll as he tucked his little girl into bed on the sidewalk of a busy Mumbai street; and the celebration of a brand new home made of cement block and clay tile in rooms too small to accommodate an entire family. I am both exhilarated and saddened by my memories. Yet, I'm not ready to throw in the towel and succumb to the sadness.

During the build, I met amazing people from all over the world who, like me, believe that if every person does just one thing to make the world a better place, change is possible. The homes we built are indeed small. But the families who worked alongside of us to create their homes filled the tiny rooms with such hope and joy; even a castle would not contain the swell of emotion. One hundred families received the decent housing they deserved while thousands of others received the graces that can only come when human compassion is shared. It was sad in many ways to see the poverty in India firsthand, but a joy like no other to work with thousands to provide homes for even a few.

Throughout this adventure, I have given a lot of thought to what makes a house a home. It is clear to me now that size and grandeur have nothing to do with building homes. Sharing pieces of a life with family and friends (old friends close to home and new friends from all over the world) are the true stuff that homes are made of. The outside structure is important for shelter and safety. But what goes on inside when families and friends come together breathes life into a home. Our work in India may seem small in the larger scheme of things, but each of us made a contribution that collectively made a difference and built a village! And that is an amazing thing!