CSB/SJU Bosnian students give back to Hurricane Katrina relief

By Marina Maric CSB ’07

A trip to New Orleans to participate in the Hurricane Katrina relief efforts seemed like a wonderful spring break idea for me and 23 other Bosnian students from the College of Saint Benedict and Saint John’s University.

The concept of a group of Bosnians rebuilding houses in New Orleans sounded strange to many. Yet, our experiences made us perfect for the mission. We understood more than anybody else what it means to receive help from strangers and there was no doubt in our minds that we were going to give our best.

The group left Minnesota in the midst of another snow storm and was welcomed by a hot ocean air upon landing in the Big Easy.

Very soon we realized that the warm air was not the only shocking thing that we would encounter.

Scenes of devastation were certainly not unfamiliar to people from a war-torn country such as Bosnia-Herzegovina, and we thought we had seen it all. But facing the devastation of New Orleans was shocking even for us.

As we drove to our camp site we looked at the city in silence until one of us uttered: "My God." Realization of how powerful and destructive nature can be left us in awe. St. Bernard Parish, where our camp was located, was a prime example of nature's wicked temper.

The parish, similar to a county in Minnesota, had a population of 67,229 in 2000 in its 1,794 square miles before Katrina; it lost 41,740 residents after the hurricane hit land in August 2005. It was not hard to realize why: A majority of the parish still looks as if Katrina happened just a few months ago.

Immediately after the hurricane, the parish was swamped by Americorps and Habitat for Humanity volunteers who wanted to help. Thousands of people came to help rebuild New Orleans and the effort is ongoing as we witnessed in Camp Hope.

Camp Hope is located in the city of Violet, in a former elementary school. Since June 2006, it provided housing for volunteers who helped rebuild over 2,000 homes in the parish. The drawings on the walls of what used to be classrooms reveal names of schools and universities all over the United States whose students have stayed in the camp.

Our group joined 380 students from Detroit, Chicago and numerous other cities. People were happy to have Bosnians around, but were not astonished. It seems that people from far places come to visit quite often, as we realized after we met Louis from France, who decided to spend his spring break doing something good.

For us though, it was a special experience. For a very long time we were used to receiving help and it felt great to be able to give back and do something for others.

Every morning for the following five days, the entire camp would get up at 6 a.m. and relocate to Musicians' Village in New Orleans' Upper Ninth Ward. The village, conceived by musicians Harry Connick Jr. and Branford Marsalis in 2005, consists of Habitat for Humanity-constructed homes for displaced New Orleans musicians and other qualifying families.

The house our group worked on was built from scratch after it was clear that the old house that used to stand there was damaged beyond repair. Guided by a Habitat for Humanity volunteer and two New Orleans natives who came down to work with us, we got our hands dirty and displayed some impressive building skills. People were painting, fixing the roof and the front porch, insulating the house and posting the fence, among other things.

Janet, the owner of the house, was only a bit puzzled when she saw a bunch of kids speaking some strange language. She was even more appreciative to have us around. We worked at the site for four days and felt a great sense of accomplishment after we saw how good the house looked on our last day there.

Another mission we had was to discover why they call New Orleans the "Big Easy." What we discovered was that it was really the city of contrasts.

Every day, we would drive for 12 miles from our camp to downtown New Orleans. Twelve miles is not a great distance, but it was incredibly awkward to drive through St. Bernard Parish and see all the ruined houses and closed shops while only several miles further there was a completely different picture.

The streets were vibrant with people strolling around, especially in the famous French Quarter, where there were no signs of devastation. Sounds of jazz come from every corner of Bourbon Street, where thousands of tourists each night make New Orleans feel like the center of the world. 

The locals, although troubled over the high crime rate in the city and the slow rebuilding process, had an amazing spirit and were tremendously optimistic.

It was inevitable for us to end up telling them about our own experiences.  I personally thought I was able to actually offer some words of advice and comfort. My experiences taught me to be optimistic, to believe that better times will come.

I realized just how important it is to share those thoughts, especially with those who suffered too. People of New Orleans, more than anybody else, understood very well what I was talking about.

Leaving the city on a humid Sunday afternoon was not easy, not only because I knew two feet of snow were waiting for me in Minnesota, but because I wanted to stay longer, maybe for a week or two, maybe forever.

New Orleans and its people made a big impression on me. In my mind I knew that with their spirit and optimism they would bring the old New Orleans back and I wanted to be there to see it happen. New Orleans, we will see each other again.

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