It takes about eleven shovel scoops of gravel to fill a medium sized trash bag.

It takes two people going at a steady pace 5 hours to get 70 bags filled, ties, and fork lifted away.

It takes love and compassion from people all over the world to do whatever they can to help.

3 days before we left the Northeast we got to experience this first hand. When the option was presented to us, no one had a second of hesitation before the decision was made that we were going to help with clean-up anyway we could.

The our 13 along with a few dozen other volunteers traveled to what is left of a small fishing town right in the elbow of the beautiful coast line. Once there we were greeted by friendly old fisherman who along with our group leader would assist us throughout the day. Still with no real idea of what we were doing we waited patiently. Taking in the beautiful rays of sun shine and touching the pacific ocean with our finger tips, giggling like the kids we work with when the sting of COLD H2O hit them. Eventually we learned that we were going to be filling bags with what looked like small pieces of slate. Not to make water breaks as some members had started to guess, but to actually be lowered into the water to make a coral reef effect for the ocean life in hopes that they come back and settle into the “elbow” again. What good is a fishing village without fish??!! As the sun started turning our skin rosy shades of pink or in some cases a rich brown (we won’t mention any names, you can use your imagination) the pile of rocks slowly started to shrink and the pile of dusty black bags started to grow. And by the end, even with the smallest ping of wishing we could to more to help, we left with satisfied shoulder aches and a farmers tan to be proud of.

The next day and our final workshop in the NE we worked with 120 7th graders outside on a tennis court which was a blast, because how could it be anything else. This group was filled with energy which helped pump us up for the day. They were ready to try and were filled with questions any 12 or 13 should have on their mind. We also found out that their school had become a huge shelter with the aftermath of 3/11. When asked if it was possible to use the gym instead of the court we were told that we couldn’t because there were still families living inside of it. And when we had our talk with the principle he shared some of this thoughts of it all, still only speaking of the well being of his students and never once mentioning if he had lost someone or something. (We came to find out he, as well as the vice principal lost their cars, but either bought a new one or has a bike that’s tires are getting broken in nicely.) There was also a cool little surprise for our Canadian, Ira, who met an English teacher that grew up the town over from him but more importantly who shares a love of a particular pizza place on his side of town! It’s moments like this when “It’s a Small World After All” starts to play in my head… judge if you must.

And then after a night of sleep it was over. We did a final clean our rooms at Hotel Kanyo, turned in our keys, packed the mini bus, and said our goodbyes to the wonderful staff who had started to feel like family. Weird is one adjective to use when describing the feeling of pulling away onto the street. Knowing that for most of us it will probably be our last glimpse of our pearly white “castle” on the cliffs above a shimmering sun struck ocean of blue, with the islands tempting you to come and explore. But more than that the memories we collected individually and together both in the paradise and in the sadness of all of it.

Selfishly our most precious gift was our impromptu stop at the fish market on our way out of town. Walking through those doors felt like going to grandma’s as we were immediately welcomed with open arms and plates of food, in this case the most scrumptious crab legs ever. As the platters made their way around the table so did that similar feeling of weird. Once again knowing the time was coming to say what could be our last goodbye. And as we sang the same song we first sang to them (only a few weeks earlier) eyes filled with tears were looking into each others souls. When the last photo was taken and the last embrace broken, we walked out with noses in need of a tissue and smiles made from a feeling of everlasting love.

So many lives touched in a month, none more than our 13. As we step into chapter 2 of our amazing journey nothing can be the same, nor should it be.

But we will remember the wisdom to know the difference.

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