Agahozo-Shalom

Packing up and getting ready for Rwanda, I wasn’t sure what to expect.  I was off to volunteer, working with orphan children at Agahozo-Shalom, a youth village in a relatively remote part of the world.  Mentally, I prepared myself to teach and educate.  Boarding the plane in New York, I felt ready to impart my years of Western education and experience to all the young children I would meet, but in the days following my arrival it became clear that although I had gone to teach them, it was they who would be teaching me.

Agahozo-Shalom is home to five hundred and twelve of Rwanda’s most vulnerable children.  The older students are children of the Genocide, the younger ones have almost equally debilitating stories.  Seeing how well they have blossomed and thrived at the village is a testament to the resiliency of the human spirit.  This, to me, was the great lesson of Agahozo-Shalom, as I watched children of poverty prospering their way to successful careers.  Youngsters, previously beset in all manners, now excelled at sports and liberal arts,  the ferocious violence of their past replaced with new families and unbounded love.

During their four year stay at the village, students live together as families, sixteen students and a Mama to each house.  Most of the Mamas are windowed and lost their own children to the Genocide.  A big brother or sister, and sometimes a cousin, are also part of the family.  Visitors, like myself, are paired with a family when they come to the village.  A nightly gathering of the entire family, called “Family Time” is replete with activities that can range from games (Trivia night, “I Got The Ball”) to serious discussions (birth control, taxes).  There were prayers, hugs,  and a great deal of laughter.  My favorite time of each day, Family Time was a chance to be with the children as they unwound in an environment full of love, care and devotion.  The end of the day was an antithesis to the places they’d come from.

One afternoon, several volunteers joined about two dozen students in constructing a new house.   We made cement and used it to layer adobe bricks across a running bond pattern in what would become a modest three room home.  The surprising aspect behind the activity was the whereabouts and situation of the new house.  Located outside the village, about a kilometer up the road, it would belong to a nearby resident who was currently living with three small children in a shack no larger than my Manhattan bathroom.  The construction was one of several community-based projects in which students participate.  Giving back to society is the basis of Tikun Olam – from the Hebrew words meaning “fixing the world” – and one of the two principle tenets taught at Agahozo-Shalom (the other is Tikun HaLev, or “fixing one’s heart”).  Having reached a place of new hope in their own lives, the children of Agahozo-Shalom waste no time in extending kindness and charity to those around them.

It isn’t possible to convey all my experiences at Agahozo-Shalom, but in the short week I spent there, the children I met demonstrated new definitions of hope, courage, care and love.  Haven taken these new meanings to heart, it is easy to see who the real teachers are.

Fashion Subway

Here's a photo of my friend MK, taken at the 181st station, on our way to a Fashion Week show.  More pictures from the show can be found on my facebook page.

Gloves on the Street

See my guest post on Bezalel Stern's Gloves On The Street.

Cheese

“OK, so you broke a piece of cheese.  Life goes on.” –Father to his two year old son.

Where Have I Been?

After my last post, I spent two more days in Ushuaia, the first one hiking all the way to the Chilean border with a British chap I met at the bus station. Then I boarded a boat and after two and a half days at sea, reached the shores of Antarctica.

Ten days later I returned to Ushuaia. From there I flew to Salta, in the Northwestern part of Argentina, and spent the next couple of days travelling to villages in the area and hiking through the mountains. One afternoon was spent at the Salt Flats and finally two days travelling around the area of Cafayete.

From there it was off to Buenos Aires, with a short trip into Uruguay before finally heading back to New York. Thus ended three months of life changing journey. My friends Koby and Debi, who had crashed in my apartment over Christmas weekend, had left me a bottle of whiskey – just what I needed to get started up again with real life.

(Pictures from the trip can be found on my Facebook page, and I’m sorry for leaving out all the details – there is just too much to write and too little time to do it any justice).

Way Down South

After a full day of airplanes and airport, I arrived in Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. It’s beautiful, albeit ridiculously cold. Nightfall being sometime past 11 PM, there was still time to go take some photos at the nearby pier. Click here to see.

Iguazu 2

The day started with a trip to the Hummingbird Park which was right across the street from my hotel. I actually had a difficult time finding it because it turns out the “park” is actually a woman’s back yard. She was very friendly and let me in although technically she doesn’t open till afternoon. We sat on the benches watching the birds and chatted while she fed her baby. It is one of the most serene places on Earth and well worth the 10 Pesos she charges.

From there I walked to the port. Correction: I walked at least 1 kilometer in the wrong direction and then to the port. Turning left at the port I trekked another kilometer or so along the bank of the River Iguazu until reaching Hilto Tres Fronteras, where Argentina, Paraguay, and Brazil all meet up. The views are stunning.

In the afternoon, I rode out to Iguazu Forest in the afternoon for hiking, ziplining, and rappelling. Everyone on the trip was great, though I hung out mostly with Elizabeth, an Argentinean researching adventures excursions for her travel company, and Zainab, a wild Aussie chick you’d never believe was a neuroscientist back home. Hiking back to the truck after the rappelling, we spotted a massive waterfall. Without thinking Zay and I ran in. Elizabeth finally jumped in too, and when the guides noticed we weren’t with the group anymore one of them was sent back to find out what had happened (we told them Zay fell and I jumped in to save her, though that didn’t much explain why Elizabeth was drenched).

During the drive back to town we stopped at a Native village where they sell handmade trinkets. The homes are all small wooden huts with no electricity or running water, and the people eat giant ants as a delicacy. They believe the ants are good for the brain.

Pictures from Iguazu