Builder who took the

plunge in the Pacific

Construction News 16/03/2000

Robert Nurden

LAST summer there was

nothing about builder Steve Barber that made

him stand out from the many craftsmen like him

across the country. True,

he was converting an 18th-century Cheshire

barn into residential and office space, slightly

different work perhaps, but nothing truly out of

the ordinary. But in September things

changed. He moved

thousands of miles away to a Pacific island,

supervising the rebuilding of 18 secondary schools and two higher education colleges with a budget of £3 million. Now, that is different. Steve, 35, from Congleton in

Cheshire, was chosen to work as site supervisor on a massive EU-funded school building project in Vanuatu, an archipelago of islands deep in the South Seas. He

was picked by the charity Voluntary Service Overseas (VSO), which sends volunteers to work as trainers on a wide range of projects throughout the Third World. "I am

getting more responsibility than I have ever had before," says Steve, wiping away

the sweat that gathers on his brow despite the fan churning away in his office at the country's Ministry of Education. "Nor have I been involved in such an important

project before. And it's nice to know that it's directly linked to the development needs of a whole country and is doing some good." The building programme is part

of the Ministry of Education's long-term strategy for doubling the secondary school capacity in the country by 2002. To do that, far more facilities - classrooms,

dormitories, staff quarters and administration and sanitation blocks - need to be built. Steve's first task was to go round and carry out surveys on the nine islands

whose secondary schools had been earmarked for rehabilitation. Years of neglect had

left them in bad condition. Caretakers employed by the schools had little training nor, in most cases, did they possess a decent set of tools. In addition, the extreme

weather conditions of the area - cyclones and humidity levels of 90 per cent are common - had made the situation even worse. On one island, Tanna, a volcano had

caused even more headaches by depositing ash all over the school and silting up the plumbing. "There were all sorts of extra problems that you don't encounter in the

UK," says Steve. "The only tarmac in the country is in the capital, Port Vila. In the outer islands there are only rough tracks, so transporting the materials once work

begins later this year is going to be extremely tricky." Moli Valivo, a school on one of

the outer islands, had been badly damaged by a cyclone earlier in the year. Steve's survey recorded two classrooms whose roofs had blown off; a sporadic electricity

supply throughout the school; a broken-down generator; dormitories with damaged roofs; no fresh water supply and washing having to be done in buckets with water

collected from the dining room roof. The one existing pump had been totally destroyed and the pipe-line had rusted. "That school was probably the worst," says

Steve, "but none of them were in good condition. Getting the work done is going to be a huge logistical exercise." Steve works alongside the ministry of education's chief

architect Bob Nikaih senior foreman Richard Rahubau, two other VSO workers and

Mikko Koria, a Finn, who heads up the EU side of operations. Central to the planning process has been the involvement of local people and materials wherever possible.

The EU has stressed that appropriate technology should be used and that construction materials and building designs should allow local communities to

participate in the construction process, rather than having expatriates making the decisions at every turn. A high number of construction projects in the Third World

come unstuck because there are no mechanisms in place for maintenance over the long term. Outside contractors do the work and then disappear, leaving local people

to pick up the pieces as best they can without the proper training or expertise. The

Vanuatu schools rehabilitation project is determined not to go down that route by insisting on local involvement at every level. The plans avoid technically complicated

or imported building components, favouring instead readily available materials. The buildings are designed in such a fashion that communities with minimum skills in

construction are able to maintain and repair them. Using indigenous materials also helps to keep the local economy buoyant. To this end, Steve is getting together and

training up three teams of local technicians. Their job, once the construction is complete, will be to go round each of the 18 schools and higher education colleges,

and hold courses to train the existing handymen in how to do simple repairs. In

addition, each school will receive its own toolbox, something that is sorely lacking. On each island the work is being put out to tender so that local contractors can make

their bids. But contractors needed to know what was wanted, so Steve wrote up a fact sheet, specifying the job outlines. The fact sheet advised, for example, on the

best places to get coral for making blocks and concrete without damaging the environment. He talked with local sawmills about supplying local hardwoods. Sand

for construction will come from beaches. And matting for the outside of the buildings - each design and dye echoing that particular island's indigenous markings - will

come from plants and trees growing on the spot. Some materials, such as roof

sheets, corrugated iron, nails, bolts and bags of cement, will have to be imported from Australia or New Zealand. "Because of the cyclone activity when there are

severe winds and lashing rain, the buildings will need to be steel reinforced down to the foundations," says Steve. "Roofs will be hooked onto the walls and there will be

bars to hold down the trusses. Even then there is no guarantee that the roofs will not blow off." Before Steve could even start working, however, he had to study the main

language Bislama, a form of pidgin English, so he could communicate with colleagues. On Vanuatu, which until '80 was jointly administered by Britain and

France, there are, amazingly, 120 languages among a mere 156,000 inhabitants.

Despite its relaxed Pacific lifestyle, the country is rich in social etiquette, or kastom. Kastom means 'the traditional way of life' and is so complex, particularly about

ownership and trespass, that foreigners unwittingly break the codes all the time. Luckily, the locals are extremely tolerant. But kastom has had repercussions for the

building programme in a number of areas. Steve always had to get permission to walk on the land to survey the school sites, often paying compensation money to do

so. The local community of one school, Nambakasale, insisted on doing the building

themselves. Although Steve is obviously relishing the high level of responsibility that

has come his way so early in his career and is "working far harder than I do in the UK", he still finds time to relax. A keen cricketer at home, he has already been

commandeered by the British High Commission in Port Vila, where he is based, to take part in their cricket matches. He adds that he misses a pint of good English

bitter but is making do with the local mind-blowing substitute, kava. "The people are very friendly and grateful for what you're doing," says Steve, who obtained his City

and Guilds Certificate in Carpentry and Joinery from Crewe College and his HND in Building Studies from Stoke-on-Trent College. "I've always wanted to do voluntary

work abroad and the time was right. I'd recommend this to any builder who might be

thinking of taking the plunge." Those interested in working with VSO should call 020 8780 7500 or visit VSO's website at www.vso.org.uk