Helping build a better life in Africa

From the diary of David Allen,BACK at the turn of the year, whispers of students’ summer plans began to rise with talk of J1 visas and Interail tickets around every corner – but I, on the other hand, was searching for something different.It came in the form of one of hundreds of unopened e-mails hidden in my student account. 'House Building in Zambia’ it said, and without thinking I’d already replied.One late application later, I was sitting in front of four people being interviewed. Within an hour, I had recieved confirmation that I’d been picked for the project with Habitat for Humanity.It had been an extremely quick process and within a few days our group meetings and fundraising had already begun.A total of €67,500 was our target and everyone one of the 25 of us did our part to raise it. People shaved heads, bagpacked, wrote begging letters and much more. After many meetings, parentalwarnings, injections and our target bypassed we were all set for the trip of a lifetime.The 25 of us travelled by bus to Dublin, by plane from Dublin to London and finally Dublin to Lusaka.On arrival in Lusaka we were all extremely tired yet so excited that nothing was going to ruin the strange buzz we found ourselves in.We spent our first day in the country’s capital so as to rest between the lengthy journey we’d just taken and our five hour bus journey to the little village of Kuwama beside Ndola in North Zambia.We arrived in Ndola and did our weekly shop to stock up on needed carbs for the working week ahead.Myself and another member of the group jumped into the back of the pickup truck to mind the 600 litres of water and food we’d purchased for the quick trip to the village.As we drove to Kuwama, we began to hear a large scream behind us and as myself and Mark turned we were greeted with the greatest and most heartwarming sight anyone could ever witness.Children running from each house we drove past, chasing our pickup with huge smiles. They jumped on to the truck and hung off the edge just to be the first to talk with us.Completely overwhelmed I listened as the kids asked the same questions. The words 'How are you’ and What is your name’ lingered through the air continuously, I on the other hand was stuck for words.Finally we turned a corner and were met by hundreds of people waiting for us; we’d finally arrived in the village of a thousand smiles! As we stepped off the truck and bus we were surrounded like celebrities. People fighting to shake our hands and introduce themselves while the women of the village sang us songs and took our bags off the bus. Some of us couldn’t handle such a welcome and tears were found in many an eye. We were given a tour of the village while a group of local women cooked our dinner. We were never permitted do the cooking in all our time, the women found it such an honour to cook for us and many nights we got thechance to eat some of the local dishes which never failed to please.After our introduction to the village we spent our evening playing with the hundreds of children who’d come a few miles just to see us.That night we set up our sleeping quarters in one of the local houses - 12 of us sleeping on the floor in a room no bigger than many people’s sitting rooms - and we all slept without a single problem.Adjusting to life in Kuwama was something we’d been warned may be extremely tough...