One of my great joys in life is to serve those who are in need all over the world. In addition to serving, I often provide documentary photography or photojournalism. I cover mission trips, charitable aid, and emergency care to third world, homeless and less fortunate areas of the world.
I am available for extended worldwide trips in winter and early spring, and shorter weekday trips in the US during the summer and fall.
Rodney Lee Gibbons, CPP
(540) 722-9000
March 3, 2008
The way I look at life will never be the same again. I truly believe I saw the real Jamaica. One thing was consistent, whether in the Kingston ghetto or the hurricane devastated Portland Cottage outback, that no matter what their living conditions or how much they had been inconvenienced by their loses, Jamaicans were always happy and welcoming. They always found a way to make the best of life they could no matter what.
This was my first trip outside the United States. Everyone told me that I would be meeting desperate starving people. And from an American middle class point of view, they would appear exactly that way. But after living and working along side them for 10 days, I started to see their lives more from their point of view. I never got the impression that they saw themselves as desperate starving people, but more as a greatly inconvenience people. Inconvenienced by their loss of their property to hurricanes, low pay, high gas prices, lack of raw materials, and concerns over the future of their country. Despite these inconveniences, they are very happy generous people.
Our purpose there was simple. Build ten 10x15' homes in ten days. We succeeded in building twelve homes. The goal was to give ten families a start after loosing their homes in hurricane Dean, just something to build on.
I couldn't help make comparisons between American culture and Jamaican. Everywhere we went we saw homes in a constant state of construction. A person may only have enough money to by a dozen cinder blocks and a bag of cement. So they will build what they can from those materials, which usually results in a partial wall, or walk. Then when money comes available again they will build some more. We saw large homes built this way over 30 years of building a little at a time.
Many of those we were building houses for were living with relatives or in shacks not much bigger than 8x6' dwelling held together with corrugated steel and some plywood. But in spite of their outward look, indoors they had made them into a comfortable home. Some of the most humble dwellings were quite nicely decorated inside.
Something that I found interesting to me about Jamaica was that no matter how poor or rich you were, everyone had an eight-foot fence around his or her property. In the poorer areas they were made of corrugated sheets of metal, in the richer areas they were made of cinder block and concrete. The local deacon explained to me that this was to protect their property. They even felt the need to cover their graves with a concrete slab to prevent grave robbers from digging up the bodies.
Another thing interesting to me was that I would commonly see a nice house built in the middle of many small houses or what we would consider shacks or shanties. The Deacon explained to me that it was quite common for the landowner to lease sections of his yard to relatives to build their own smaller houses on.
We began our trip by leaving Winchester at 8 p.m. February 21 and had to stay at the Dulles terminal all night due to the bad weather. I flight departed 6 a.m. the next morning and we arrived in Montego Bay Airport by 4 p.m. that afternoon. See me pictured right at the Montego Bay Airport. From there we had a four hour bumpy roller coaster bus ride across the country on a route the locals treat as a mix of the Indy and Baja 500 to Kingston (thank goodness for Dramamine) finally arrived at hotel around 9 p.m.
From then on, except for Sunday, our daily routine was 6 a.m. breakfast, go to the factory to make the wall panels, and then drive to the country to assemble and set up the house. Our goal was three houses a day. If you don't know the Jamaican climate, every day was like working during a humid August day in Virginia.
My first day out I was all prepared with work clothes, tool belt and tools and ready to build houses when the Bishop who is head of the organization came to me and recruited me to be the official photographer. I was prepared for carpentry work, not photography, and only brought my little point and shoot camera. I had only expected to take a few snapshots for memories, not provide photojournalistic photography.
My first assignment was to cover the meeting of the ministerial staff with the Prime Minister of Jamaica. "Do you have anything to wear", the Bishop said. Okay, I have a suite case full of raggedy work clothes and old shoes, and one set of church wear. So I am thrust into the job of a professional photographer with a point and shoot camera, one change of good clothing, four memory cards and a bag full of AA batteries. Talk about challenging. I always claimed that a good photographer could capture good images no matter what kind of camera they were using as long as they new their equipment. I was about to prove my point or eat my words. My point and shoot Sony DSC-H2 and I became very good friends very quickly.
After our meeting with the Prime Minister, the ministerial staff drove through Lionel Town and up to Portland Cottage to document the condition of homes they built prior to hurricane Dean. All were still standing and had been added on to by their owners. Our driver was deacon of a local church. Talk about a wild ride -- I will never complain about the aggressive drivers of Northern Virginia again. It was like riding in the Baja race. My seatbelt was the only thing that kept me from bouncing out the window. If we were not dodging potholes deep enough to disappear in, we were dodging and swerving around other drivers trying to do the same. Forget about minimum following distances. You are only following too close if can't see the other driver's tail lights.
Sunday was church day and we started off the day attending services at a local church in the suburbs of Kingston followed by a second service in the downtown ghetto area. We were treated to a welcome lunch and got my first sampling of jerk chicken and goat meat. The chicken was great, but I think goat meat will be an acquired taste for me. Speaking of goats, they are as common as dogs in this country. Most run loose but everyone seems to know whose goat is whose. I never saw any snakes since the mongooses have pretty much eaten them all. Lizards are everywhere and beware the ants. The first day I set my cold vest on the ground. When I picked it up to put it back on, I didn't realize it was covered with ants. I got several bites that I still bare the marks from before I could get them all off me. We managed to run across two fire ant colonies while building and accidentally stirred up one. Thanks to the Discovery Channel, I learned to keep my distance from these aggressive and venomous varmints.
Monday we went to visit and document the condition of the Health Clinic in the Kingston ghetto. I always said as a child that I would never let anyone take me to an American ghetto and here I was in the Kingston one -- a truly scary place. Filled with narrow streets and high walls that could be easily barricaded at the end to facilitate a robbery. As the Bishop gives me the following warnings: don't take any ID or money, leave your camera bag in the car, lock the car, and remaking constantly aware of your surroundings, it hits me where I really am. I must be out of my mind. If any of the people or places in Jamaica qualified as desperate, this would have to be it.
It wasn't until Tuesday that I finally got to rejoin the team. After missing out on work assignments I felt left out and was eager to get into the muck, mud, sweat and dirt with the rest. I managed to finally find ways to help out by making sure work areas were safe and clear of debris, setting up lighting, carrying walls, and still trying to document the events of the day and the people involved. Many of the locations we built on were foundations of previous homes littered with broken glass, nails, rocks and other debris. It was a miracle that we did not have more injuries than we did. Some locations were up or down steep hills or on very rock terrain.
Our host had a very close call while in Kingston. He was counting money in the back of their car and a passer by spotted them. They noticed that the passer by made a cell phone call, but thought nothing of it. Within minutes they found themselves surrounded and barricades be moved into place at the end of the streets. They quickly started their cars and managed to escape just in time. The Lord was really looking out for them that day.
Tuesday through Thursday we completed three houses a day, and on Thursday night we left Montego Bay about 3 a.m. We built three more houses there and by 7 p.m. picked up food to deliver to two local churches before we turned in for the night.
About the third day I took on the duty of safety officer making sure debris was moved, and the area was generally safe. Guess who had the only injury. After leaving the church we noticed that the load of food had shifted and was in danger of sliding off the truck. Since I was closest to the bus door, I got off to fix the load. Now let me set the scene for you here. It's 7 p.m., pitch dark and you can't see beyond the edge of the road, we are in the mountains and there are no road markings or guardrails. Got the picture? So I fixed the load and was climbing back out of the truck. Rather than use the tire as a step, I decided just to jump down to the ground. Big mistake. I lost my balance and tumbled backward finding nothing but air to land on. I did a backward summersault down twenty feet of steep embankment landing in a pile of broken glass and other garbage someone had thrown out.
It took my fellow passengers a few moments to realize what had happened, but a couple of them formed a human chain and hoisted me back to safety. Saturday was supposed to be our day to enjoy the resorts, but I spent it in my room bruised and bloody with my knee packed in ice. Fortunately by departure day, I was back on my feet.
But all and all, I had a wonderful time. My goal was to serve my fellow man and that's what I did. What once seemed important matters to worry over seem so unimportant now. If the Jamaicans can maintain their faith, love for life, and family relationships with what little they have -- I surely can with much more.
Despite the lack of adequate photography equipment, I manage to capture some wonderful moments with my little Sony Cybershot.
I want to thank Debbie Rhodes, Barbara Agregard, Verna Gibbons and Pam Hutzell for their generous contributions that helped make this trip possible.
A little note I received today from Bishop Allen:
"Rodney,
I have lead more than forty mission trips and five building trips. The flexibility, ability to multi-task and remain humble and Christ like is a wonderful gift set.
I want to personally thank you for all the things that you have done to help my ministry. I am amazed at your patience and thoroughness. Of all the team members you shined. You worked so very hard building houses and did a wonderful job in a skill set that is far different than your regular work as a professional photographer. You were a tremendous asset as a lay builder and a valuable team member. While most only operated in one field you operated in two.
I appreciate your humility and willingness to do things that you are not accustomed to. My brother, you have represented Christ not only with your hard work, but also with your attitude. I would be happy to work with you and recommend you to anyone. I have heard nothing, but wonderful comments about your work last week from your teammates.
Thank you! I will be praying for you. I hope to work with you again. Until then, I remain . . .
YOUR MISSIONARY TO THE POOR,
Frank Allen
www.hopecharitable.org"
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