I think about my upcoming Alaska trip every day. Sometimes I even have second thoughts about such a long trip away from my RV. My little home will be sitting under the summer desert sky while I travel for 6 months. I bought a cover for it, which should help with UV Rays and moisture.  For two years, though, it has been my safe haven and I am feeling sentimental about venturing forth without my security blanket.

But first, I am in Las Cruces with a group from the Habitat for Humanity Care-A-Vanner program. We all arrived from different directions with our RVs for two weeks of volunteer work. I am humbled by all the other volunteers and the time they commit over a year. Some of these folks go from one build to another, every two weeks, for most of the year. One couple has helped on houses in 21 different states. From here they go on to builds in Colorado and Montana. It’s amazing, really, considering this is all volunteer work. People are amazing. That is always the most important lesson I receive during a build.

The Mesilla Valley HFH has a nifty little RV park right across from the office, which is just for the volunteers. We have a free space, free utilities, free Wi-Fi, and a cute laundry room. Most HFH programs arrange for RVers to stay at local parks, often for a fee, so this is extra special. The five HFH houses in Las Cruces are nearly complete and will be dedicated in mid-April. That means we are doing finish work, my favorite. Today I painted doors, which is not bad. I expect to paint many more doors in another 3 houses and then move on to other painting. Other folks are doing floor trim, laying floor tiles, and so on. I worked alongside a future HFH homeowner. They must do 100 hours of volunteer work on other houses before their home is even started. Then, they must do 150 hours on their own home during the construction phase. So, this really is a hand up not hand out kind of program. I love the HFH Mission.

Volunteer group dynamics are the real challenge over here. After a pleasant winter with a singles group, I am in the uncomfortable role of being the only single female among 6 couples. That changes group social dynamics (should we invite her with us for dinner?). I did get to go on an “official dinner out” on Tuesday evening and one guy fondled me. His girlfriend hasn’t looked at me since. Somehow, his behavior is my fault.? Another guy stares at me – always – with that lusty look that we all know so well. I must ask, Why can’t a single female join a volunteer project without becoming a sexual object?

This is not a new issue, by any means. In the past, sexual oogling and worse were part of being alive and single. But in this era of “Me Too”, I want to find a better solution than letting it slide yet again. The issue of fear – fear of being ostracized by the others – fosters silence still. Fear of being the whistleblower. Fear of being the scapegoat. Women have a louder voice now, but how do we use it to make the situation better? There will be a solution on the larger, societal level but at the moment, I am wondering about the personal level. My sense of personal power over the situation, as it occurs, needs to strengthen. I need a “look” to counter that “look”, at the very least.  But then again, why is this even an issue on a volunteer build with a faith-based, world-class volunteer organization?

And another issue! The Mesilla Valley HFH has tons of local support and a reputation among the Care-A-Vanners as a good place to volunteer. Indeed, the quality of construction is excellent. The excitement of the future homeowners, infectious. The reality, of course, is that sometimes when we are riding high, we tend to coast and then the slowed momentum can lead to a downward slide. The elevator is either going up or down; it rarely stays on one floor forever.

The downward slide here? Long-term volunteers have been settling in. Volunteer groups are supposed to “turn over” every two weeks. A fresh group comes in and brings new energy to the build. Then another group. Then another. At the moment, four people actually live in the RV volunteer spaces. One boasted she has been here since January. Another said, all winter.  True, they are helping on the builds, but they have become too comfy here.  They lounge around the group picnic table or over in the shade by the laundry room and drink heavily after work most afternoons (by heavily I mean “growlers” full of beer). Since we stop at 2 PM each day, the drinking starts early and lasts into the evening. One time they became exceptionally rowdy and loud (this is a residential neighborhood), yelling and screaming into the evening. One of these long-term folks came here first as a volunteer then hooked up with the Construction Manager, a paid employee who also lives in the RV park. His live-in has assumed a co-leadership roll. She is loud, bossy, and rude with volunteers. She dominates meetings and our morning gatherings. When I pulled away from the job site ten minutes after closing, at the end of a long first week, she positioned herself in front of the van as I drove away, and I was subjected to a hilarious shaming moment that was supposed to make me feel guilty for leaving. I had just spent an extra ten minutes cleaning up the trash strewn over the build site before I left and was silently congratulating myself on a great week of hard volunteer work. Huh, what? A guilt trip.

Week one: a fondling episode, ostracized by the perps significant other, and a heavy dose of shame from a fellow volunteer who happens to live with the Construction Manager. I was at first tempted to check out and head back to Deming, but then I remembered that I made a commitment: a two-week commitment to show up and do my best. There is a higher purpose at play here. Furthermore, my commitment was unconditional, although I did assume I would be in a safe and healthy environment, and what I have experienced here could justify my early departure. However, I want to do everything I can to fulfill my commitment, despite what I would call negative influences seeping in through the cracks. I do have some boundaries set, though, and won’t hesitate to leave if need be next week.

Would I do another HFH Care-A-Vanner build? Absolutely not. It is more than the hopefully isolated fondling/heavy-drinking/questionable leadership issues at this HFH. While I enjoy all kinds of people from all walks of life, being surrounded by married couples for two weeks is too much, no matter how nice and inspiring they may be. I will most likely try an international HFH build, which draws a different type of volunteer. Also, I may participate again in the original HFH volunteer model, where local volunteers show up for a day or two. More likely, I will be looking for a different volunteer outlet that works better for me.