Patching the roof

"They don't know that they don't know yet."--James Rhodes, New Hampshire/Vermont but still with us in spirit and on facebook


Roof repair ridiculousness! When I moved into my house I had a termite nest on my ceiling beam the size of 3 American Footballs. My roof, an A-frame made with trees freshly cut from the jungle and covered with a palm-like leaf the locals call palalu and all tied together with some kind of jungle vine, has been a haven for termites since I moved in. The termites have been nesting in my thatch roof for the past year and have recently chewed far enough through the thatch to create some leaks in the house. The first two leaks are next to my door above the shelf that holds my medicines and wicked cool imitation Dulce Gabana sunglass--actually acquired from a care package and not bought in Suriname. Suriname is notorious for their cheap knock offs of extravagantly expensive name brands. The other leak is above my kitchen stove. Needing some roof repairs, I gave Peace Corps a ring and got the OK to hire someone in the village to do some roof repair.

I approached Max, the villager who had tied the house for the previous volunteer. From what I saw he had done a good job tying the roof and the fault with the leaks was due to the location of my house next to an abandoned house infested with termites and a cashew tree which is also a breeding ground for termites. Max had been unable to work recently after a tree branch fell and went through his foot. He could not walk for about two months. Recently in passing he mentioned he wanted to find some work in order to make money to go to the city. So we sat down, negotiated the terms of payment and how the work would be carried out. I would help with some of the labor. Cue the introductory quote.

So day 1 Max and I walk out into the jungle. From my house, we walked 3/4's of a mile and we found a spot with an abudance of the tree leaves we needed for my roof. We cut down a tree with these huge palalu leaves--about 10 feet long leaves that look like a palm leaf. Max manages to nearly kill me on only 10 different occassions. He does this by cutting down trees that are falling next to where I'm stacking the leaves we have already cut. After cutting all the leavesm we finish stacking them and decide to come back for the pile two days later. Despite my lack of knowledge on thatch roof repair I have this hunch that we've cut too many leaves--Max told me I was wrong.

Day 2 of the work, on our way out to the jungle Max's slipper breaks and I have to run back to his house to retrieve another pair. The latch on his door is broken and I can't keep the door shut. A passing villager says he'll take care of it. So I walk quickly back out on the jungle path and after bringing Max his new pair of sandals we walk out to where we cut the leaves. Whew! They're still all there. Unfortunately, I'll be the one carrying the leaves 3/4's of a mile through the jungle and back to my house in the village. This sucked! So Max took the pile and seperated them into four stacks. He took the stem of the palm leaf and cut it very thin; he used this is as a rope to keep a stack tied together. So he gave me the first stack and I started carrying it. I got about 10 yards away when he yelled, "put it on your head! It'll be easier." So I carried the first stack of leaves, 60 pounds, 3/4's of a mile from the jungle to my house--on my head! Pretty damn tired already. Definitely thinking about that James Rhodes quote again. I go back for stack 2. Balancing this stack on my head again, I bring it to the trail head a little under a 1/4 of a mile from my house. I'm completely frustrated and starting to get pissed off. This work is even worse because we are in the dry season and everyday the weather is oppressively hot. I think the work will be less back breaking if I borrow the wheel barrow from the Captain. So I brought the 3rd stack through the jungle with the wheel barrow. This didn't go well either--path is to difficult to navigate with a wheel barrow. So I bring the 3rd stack and the wheel barrow to the trail head and leave them there. I begrudingly go back for the fourth stack, hoping that Max is bringing it into the village. He's not. Again, I bring another stack back to the trail head on my head.

All the stacks are at least in the village now--1 at my house, 3 at the trail head. So I need to get the last 3 stracks from the trail head to my house and I feel pretty confident someone will lend a hand. I guess I was overconfident at the time. Passing one house with one of the stack on my head I asked for some help, the man of the house told me he doesn't work on Sunday. In retaliation I've decided to close down my Flat Screen TV Repair business. So I go back to the trailhead and retreive the third stack of leaves and bring it to my house. Even more tired, no idea where the hell or what the hell Max is doing at this point. I go back to the trailhead and put the last stack of leaves on my head and carry it to my house. Done. THANK GOD! I go back to the trail head one last time to retrieve the wheel barrow I lent from the Captain. On my way back I pass Max's house who I see has cut a stack of leaves for his own house. Max now has the nerve to start yelling at me because I didn't close his door properly, "I own 5 guns and they're inside this house!" My response, "Haika!" (Basically, listen here buddy). The other villager had told me he'd take care of it and he didn't. Everything seems to be OK now and we agree to patch the roof tomorrow.

Day 3: mindi wosu(patching the house/roof). To be very blunt, this went awful. It started with Max asking me what I thought we should do. "Ummmmm, I've never done this before and you were hired to do this." He also asks me where the leaks are again, like the 10th time I've shown him.
So Max is working on the inside of the house, standing on my shelves so he can reach his hands up through the leaves already tied on my roof. I'm standing outside with a 12 foot stick and attaching leaves to the end of the stick to guide into Max's hands--this is one of those ridiculous moments where I wish I had a photo. I'm guiding the leaves to where I see his hands but his hands are not catching the leaves. He starts yelling at me, "You don't understand the work you American child!" OK. There are still three leaks in my roof so I've got to keep my cool and my mouth shut. A kid from next door comes over and shows me a few points for guiding the leaves into Max's hands better. This goes a little better, not much. Even with my improved technique, Max is just not very tall and can't get his hands high enough. After about 30 minutes of doing this, Max starts complaining that his neck hurts and he doesn't like doing this kind of work. At this point I'm getting really annoyed. We thatch the roof for another hour. We are putting the newly cut leaves from the jungle in between the leaves already tied into the roof. We believe we've fixed the first two leaks by the door. Now, we're working on the leak above the kitchen area when Max tells me he doesn't want to do any more work... Ok, bud, I spent the previous day carrying four loads of 60 pound leaves on my head 3/4's of a mile through the jungle, I'm baking in the heat today passing you these leaves and haven't complained once. If you've ever seen a Rodriguez get mad at a bad call during a sports game then insert that image here because that was my reaction when Max told me he was stopping. I had not patience left. I was not going to accept this guy not finishing the work he had agreed to do. We had a brief exchange. I made it clear he needed to finish the work and he agreed so long as he never would do this work again. He was not happy that he had made a whole new roof for the last volunteer and it was already leaking. So Max went back to work with no more complaints and I handed him more leaves and he positioned them in the roof. By the way, we only used 1 and 1/2 stacks of the four stacks of leaves I brought from the jungle. After we finished putting leaves in the roof, Max tied them around the beams going up to the ceiling. Kaba, finished.

So after 3 days of back breaking work, bringing leaves from jungle on my head and getting into a heated exchange with a guy who I had hereto had no problems with I at least had a sturdy roof above my head to show for all my troubles. Right? Nope. Now, there are four leaks in my house--there were three before we started.

Sometimes, this is just the reality of Peace Corps--back-breaking labor in the heat, working with frustrating people, unpredictability and not completely understanding local cultural habits. Even after a year, when you think you've seen and know it all, you don't know that you don't know yet.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FyTl3MgAdaM