It is 10:30 on a Tuesday morning, and I arrive at the J building for a day of volunteering at the WBFN Book Project. Initially, I hand over my ID to the security guard, put on a big smile for the camera (I hate that part) and collect my visitor’s pass. I proceed past the metal detector, onwards to my destination–the basement of the J Building. As is customary, I mistakenly rush into an open elevator that’s always bound upwards when, in fact, the one that I want is the elevator going down. I can’t tell you how many times I have ended up on the tenth floor. Nevertheless, I digress; you’re reading this article right now because you are interested in knowing what volunteering means to me...well, it means a lot to me as a matter of fact!

One of the reasons I originally started volunteering at the Book Project was because I wanted to do something to keep me active. For those of you who are unaware about my current predicament, I am unable to work because, due to the intricacies of my visa, I am ineligible to apply for a work authorization. So, as you can imagine, my hands are tied. With nothing to do, I grew bored of sitting around all day on the couch. Now, anyone who knows me will tell you that I’m a fairly laid back individual who is not wholly opposed to the concept of lounging about the house in comfortable overalls, but there’s only so much of that one can do! So, once I found out about the Book Project, it was a blessing in disguise. This may sound like a slight on the Book Project that my intentions for volunteering weren’t primarily to contribute to a worthy cause. But, on the contrary, that was the one thing about it that appealed to me the most. Once I received word that I was free to come down whenever I pleased, I started right away.

The Book Project is situated in a small space way down in the aforementioned basement of the World Bank J Building. It’s a place that is hard to find at first, as I found out when I began volunteering there. Navigating my way through the small corridor, I finally reach my destination. When I arrive, I sign in, exchange pleasantries with Hillary, the President and Pushpa, the book donation coordinator, before heading to the packing room, my main port of call. It is there where all the donated books are sorted, stamped and packed. Currently, we are working on a shipment to Tanzania. The Book Project largely receives its donations from schools in the DC area. From the ones that they receive, I along with the other volunteers arrange those books by subject area and separate them according to age appropriate levels. Afterwards they are stamped with the Book Project logo and are then packed into boxes ready to be shipped. In a nutshell, that is what happens in the packing room. It sounds simple enough, but I can promise you sorting those books is not as straightforward as it seems.

Out of the thousands of donated books, not all can be sent for various reasons: some aren’t in an adequate condition and are, therefore, discarded; then there are others that do not have any cultural relevance, which also find their way into the bin (for instance, American History textbooks are of no use to children in Tanzania). It’s a shame because there are books which are in decent enough condition, however, they cannot be sent. When it comes to stamping the books, on the other hand, one must be sure that it is done on the inside of the book’s cover and not on the initial page. This is done to ensure that the books aren’t sold on the black market. Once these books have been organised, they are ready to be packed into boxes, which to me is probably the easiest part of the process. When I turn my attentions to packing, however, I look at the clock and notice that its 12:30—time for lunch.

I always enjoy lunchtime. Mostly all the volunteers gather around the table and eat together, and it is there where I gain a sense of how the Book Project is a melting pot of different nationalities. For instance, at lunch I eat with an Indian, a Swede, a Brit, a German and a Costa Rican, just to name a few. The ladies all converse about various things ranging from politics to sharing their life experiences. Pushpa in particular is a raconteur who often reflects on her early life in India and although, typically, I remain taciturn as I feast on a sandwich, I thoroughly enjoy listening to the ladies’ stories. After lunch, however, it’s back to business as I look to pack. Before I’m able to get started, however, I am summoned to the loading dock by Hillary to collect a small shipment of books from a donor.

In a pensive state, as I make way onto the freight elevator to meet the donor, I ask myself the question, “What does volunteering mean to me?”At the dock, I help shift boxes of books onto a cart, which I then bring down to the packing room. On my return, the atmosphere there in the packing room is as jovial as ever and as the group buckles down to a soundtrack of Bob Marley emanating in the background, I’m inspired by true devotion to the cause. It is strange to think that the hard work that is done by a comparatively small number of people in such an obscure place can have such an impact on thousands of children in various parts of the developing world. And yet it all comes out of one room in the basement (well, technically it’s two rooms: the administrative office and the packing room). The women in the administrative office and the core volunteers involved in the packing room are very much the heartbeat of the Book Project. They are in many ways unsung heroines who make a difference. And that is what it is all about really. For me, the notion that I could do something that could make a difference to a child is what drives me to volunteer.

Henry Kerali