I yelped in pain as the hammer struck my left thumb for about the hundredth time. It was now a bloody pulpy mess. My left forefinger also bore evidence of hammer wounds, the nail blackened and bleeding. The pain was intense and I swore under my breath, struggling to understand how it was that I could hit my thumb and finger with such precision and power, while the clout I was attempting to strike was standing proud and unscathed in the middle of the digit carnage.

I was precariously perched on top of a 3 metre ladder, a searing wind was gusting, it was unbelievably hot and steamy, and I was attempting to nail thin corrugated sheeting onto tiny dwellings located in the middle of a Cambodian farming area. The wood was hard, like reinforced concrete, the clouts were as strong as wet noodles and bent without provocation, and with my very limited handyman skills, perhaps it was no wonder I was wounding myself so often. I looked down at the small group of Cambodians gathered at the foot of the ladder. I thought to myself they must be wishing that someone with a less modest skill set had been assigned to build their home. That was my story. In actual fact, as I was to learn later in the day, they were just incredibly appreciative that someone - anyone - was prepared to come into their world and try and help.

My mind drifted back six months to the time I decided to take some extended leave from work, and was wondering what opportunities there were to do some volunteer work. I recalled that a friend had travelled to Cambodia to build houses. The experience had been very positive and this led me to contact the ‘Tabitha Foundation’ to find out about their Cambodian house-building trips. In the excitement of the idea, it somehow escaped me that my handyman genes were so dormant as to be almost non-existent. In truth, I remember hearing a tiny voice in the back of my mind saying "but you cannot even build Ikea Furniture". Demonstrating delusional behaviour, for which I am renowned, I managed to drown out the tiny voice and sign up with the August 2009 Tabitha House Building project.

The team consisted of 28 Australians. There were people from all walks of life - some young, some old, some older, some with building skills, some with none, but all with a sense of adventure and a strong social conscience. We travelled from Phnom Penh, 250 km out into the Cambodian countryside, to a small rural town called Battambang. Our mission was to build 25 homes in two days. When we arrived at the village, frames and footings were in place, cladding and flooring to be finished.

In the end, my self doubt and incompetence was completely drowned by feelings of happiness and satisfaction at being part of a team doing such wonderful work. As with any good team, we performed at a level far greater than the simple sum of our parts. The organisation from Tabitha to get everyone together in Phnom Penh, transport us out to the build site, arrange all the logistics, and then transport us home, was seamless. The team also had an exceptionally strong leadership group who allowed team members to concentrate on building without having to worry about anything else. 

Personally, the experience was life changing. It allowed me to see my place in the world from a global context, to think about my issues and problems from a different, wider viewpoint. I learnt such a lot from the Cambodian people; an incredibly robust and beautiful people, determined to get on with life in spite of the many and significant hardships life has dealt them.

I was part of a small group who built a home for a lovely old man. His face was weathered like an eroded earthen batter, and his back was bowed like the Sydney harbour bridge. He wandered around and helped us as he could and took a great interest in how we were going. I had quite some interaction with him as we were building and formed one of those funny temporary bonds with strangers that you sometimes do when travelling.

His history was tragic, but perhaps not unusual for Cambodia. He was of indeterminable age - maybe 50, maybe 70 - and was the sole breadwinner for his family, made up of his completely blind and physically disabled daughter - she was perhaps 30 years old - and her daughter of between 3 or 4. They had been abandoned by her husband some years previously. The other family member was a young boy of 8 or 9, and I am not sure how exactly he fitted in. We managed to provide something wonderful for this tiny little family. When his daughter was shown her new house, she felt the wooden beams and joinery around the front steps and her face just dissolved into a smile of absolute unbridled joy.

At the end of each day's building, the Tabitha team would present a small blanket to each family as a simple house-warming gift. I ended up presenting the blanket to the old man and his small family. It was one of the most emotional and moving experiences of my life. Tears of wonder from me that anyone who has been through what this old man has seen with war and genocide, could survive emotionally, and still welcome strangers into his village. The old man was so humble and appreciative. A truly lovely human being.

I would not hesitate to recommend a Tabitha house-building trip. They are a wonderful moving experience. There are lots of laughs and lots of tears, and emotions run high and then low in a blink of an eye. But the opportunity to learn about yourself, and another culture, while doing something really useful for people who really need it is an opportunity that no one should miss.