Jeri Bidinger
Board President, HFH-Anchorage (Alaska)

Where else in the world could I, a 47-year-old mom from Alaska, end up teamed with six Zulu and East Indian men to put a roof on one house or repair broken awnings on 10? And, in my wildest dreams, would I ever have imagined that I would actually have a conversation with Jimmy Carter--or that it would amount to asking the former President of the United States to return a tool?

One hundred houses in five days; a single site swarming with 3,000 to 4,000 volunteers from all over the world and all walks of life--a unity of purpose bridging vast divides of language and culture. Folks serving food; rendering first aid; running up and down the site in bakkies (pick-up trucks) with materials. Incredible outbursts of Zulu song constantly reminded us that this was a celebration--a celebration of justice, hope and fresh starts.

So, how do a middle-aged American mom and six South African men who have never met and speak three languages manage to work together? For starters, the men seem okay with the mom's leadership (if they only knew!) Most of them know a lot more about mortar than she does--that's a very good thing!

The awnings are ready to have the big bolts put back in. The men pick up hammers and start to hammer them in. The mom says, "No, they must be screwed into place!" The men say, "Hammer!" The mom says, "Screw!" The men try to hammer and the awning breaks. The mom finds a cordless drill and teaches the others how to use it--they seem never to have possessed such a tool, and the tough job turns into a good time.

Did the house get done? Well, not quite--we didn't get the base moldings up on the interior walls. Were people encouraged; was justice served, was community created? Absolutely.

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