Comme d'habitude

For as long as I can remember, I've meant to volunteer more. Aside from the occasional shift during KQED radio pledge drives, my day job + freelance + Canteen lifestyle doesn't leave much room for good works.

It's a poor excuse—there are plenty of busy people who volunteer. It's just hard to fit it all in while maintaining some kind of sanity and balance. Also it's nice to sleep now and then. Still, the intent is always there.

This weekend, I finally got to act on it at a Habitat for Humanity project in Daly City. Windy, chilly, foggy Daly City.

The project site includes 12 basic, sturdy homes slated to take about a year to complete. There's an onsite staff of five or so, plus 10 to 30 volunteers on any given day. We had a big crew, including a dozen nice older folks from the Church of the Innocents (I almost wound up in their group photo by accident—had to excuse myself with, "Oops, I'm not one of those.").

The few volunteers with actual carpentry skills scampered up the scaffolding to shingle, side, and trim things, while the rest of us attacked cleanup. The houses run along the top of a small hill that was covered with construction debris: wood, rock, rebarb, plastic, plywood, insulation, and lots of trash. The crew chief—a wiry, tough, smart woman about my age who could destroy all of you one-handed—said it was only three weeks' worth.

For about six hours, we lifted and hauled and sorted and stacked and discarded. It didn't feel like symbolic charity; it felt like manual labor. It was a long, cold, satisfying day. We got really dirty. I came home depleted, took a fantastic shower, and slept for 10 straight hours.

My back and shoulders aren't too happy with me, but good intentions don't make your muscles sore. Only action can do that. I should remember more often.