Well, this is my last full day in Texas. I’ve been here for two active disaster deployments, which consisted of the last three and a half months. It’s been a wild ride, but I can honestly say it’s been a life changing experience for me. The ability to work with people for so long allows you to not only become coworkers with them, but friends and then family. I’m not ashamed to say that I was crying my eyes out at one point saying goodbye to friends and mentors that have seen me through these past few months. The second deployment was rougher than the first, mostly due to extenuating circumstances. You will find that housing especially on projects that are assisting recently declared major disasters, especially presidentially declared disasters like Harvey and Maria can be challenging. They are not always ideal but we do have the basic necessities which is more than some survivors have impacted by disasters. Once the response phase is over it does get better, but the journey there will not always be easy. From the spot where I slept, if I extended both of my arms out I could easily touch both of my roommates with my hands at the same time for a sense of how cramped it was. One night terror and you accidentally wake two your teammates in the middle of the night, and that was the reality. I ate on the floor for an entire deployment, because that was the reality. In the second deployment, we ended up spending our own money at a nearby Goodwill to finally get some tables and chairs to make a house out of it, but the first round was rough. Doing circuit training three times a week on bare hardwood floors is an experience I never want to repeat, but that was the reality for that first deployment. Once our hours were slashed partway through the first deployment from 12 hours a day to 9, we started doing PT three times a week. After PT, five sweaty men had to use the bathroom and shower within the hour before we left. Five sweaty women had to do the same thing in the other bathroom, and these were tiny little bathrooms with one shower, one toilet, one small sink, and room for two people if you weren’t afraid of invading all barriers of personal space. That’s part of the appeal, right? Travel the country, meet new people, and try new things. All of your life, packed up in an issued red backpack, your own backpack, and your sleeping bag. It’s crazy to think about, and a year ago I would have never imagined I’d be here. I desperately want to write something profound and inspiring, but I’m just not clever enough for that. I’m just tired, and getting ready for our last bit of training before winter break. Our second deployment was much better, especially when a local church decided to let us stay in missionary housing they had available. Once we got that shift in housing, team morale improved so much it was insane. I could finally go to sleep without being woken up by someone having a nightmare, or by someone closing the microwave across the house due to the extremely thin walls. I could no longer hear conversations across the house, and that alone was an absolute godsend. Once that housing switch happened, it was much better to appreciate this experience for what it was. While I understand that I grew from the rougher conditions, I also would not want to experience them again if that makes sense. It's funny I say that, because Puerto Rico will have its own challenges. Rougher conditions is one word for it, but there is a huge need for aid down there. Service isn’t easy, if it was then everyone would do it. Sometimes it sucks, and I have to be prepared for that suck because it serves a greater purpose. That greater person is doing your part to help someone desperately trying to put back together the shattered pieces of their former life. Someone trying to adjust to a new normal that is, quite frankly, scary to even think about. They’re the ones with the most to lose and suffer the most, not me. At the end of the day, I can quit and go home if I really wanted to. I could return to my life before, because it wasn’t ripped away from me. The family that had their house completely flooded and then covered with mold, with none of the resources to muck and gut the thing and no resources to do anything about it can’t just up and leave. No power, no funds, and nobody to help muck and gut in time to save the structure. That family can’t just decide to borrow some money and get back on a plane home, because that is the reality. That is their new normal, and Round 3 for me is all about me doing my part to assist them on the way with doing what I can to improve that new normal.
