An Ode To Wet-Wipes

My fellow Fellow and dear friend Yael Zaken mentioned to me that this past Tuesday, May 13^th, marked five months since our arrival in Rwanda. After wishing each other a happy five-month anniversary, I reflected on the time passed. It’s contradictory nature – the longest days turning into the quickest weeks, the last minute mandatory, very “brief” meetings maturing into all-day marathon events, the seemingly impossible relationships blossoming into the sincerest friendships.

Here my emotional highs reach the grandest zenith while my emotional lows burrow in the deepest crevasse. I’ve developed a regular self-practice in yoga, which has helped me immensely in observing my feelings and moods. Through this practice, the word “gratitude” has always floated to the surface of my thoughts. I am grateful for my family – the familiar, omnipotent love I have for my parents and sister and the new, growing love I have for my family here. I am grateful for my friends – for the joy and silliness they bring into my life.  I am grateful for the opportunity to work and live abroad, to be a part of something as inspirational as the Agahozo-Shalom Youth Village.

I am grateful for the 50rwf avocados, the 300rwf pineapples, the smallest, most delicious bananas – 100rwf a bunch. ($1 roughly exchanges to 693rwf. I realize I am grateful for a plethora of food – for those of you who know me well, this should be no surprise). I am grateful for the indestructible Nokia phone with a flashlight and free calls and messaging between ASYV staff. Last and certainly not least, I am grateful for water, or as they say in Kinyarwanda, amazi. Especially running water. And when there is no water, I give all my sincerest gratitude to the wonders of wet-wipes.

a picture is worth a thousand words....

Loss and Light

First and foremost, let me apologize for the absence of blog posts. After my dad asked if there was an issue with the website as no new content had been added since January, I decided it was time to buckle down and write. So here is my sincerest apology - I have no excuse so will not bore you with something smart or witty, but I will say: I’m sorry.

It is hard to put into words my experience thus far at Agahozo-Shalom. The past five months have been filled with the purest joy and the deepest sorrow. As many of you reading this post know, Anne Heyman, the founder of ASYV, passed away this February. Her untimely death devastated the Village. I did not feel comfortable writing or speaking about her passing until I had begun to digest the awful news. I intentionally use the word “begun” as overcoming tragedy is ephemeral; there is no time frame for healing. And while life in the Village has resumed some semblance of normalcy, the staff and the students will never stop mourning the loss of Anne. I can only imagine the pain her family must be experiencing. My heart breaks for them, and my thoughts often turn to them.

Over the recent vacation, my parents and I explored the vast landscape of Namibia and enjoyed the beautiful scenery and cosmopolitan cities of South Africa (see next blog of pictures). As they always do, my mom and dad brought me the latest New Yorkers and recent articles they thought I would enjoy, which included an Op-Ed by David Brooks.

In “What Suffering Does,” Brooks explores the nature of loss and humanity’s ambition to maximize happiness. It is common behavior for people to speak of their future in terms of personal prosperity and contentment. However, when looking to the past, the most significant moments are often the most challenging. “People shoot for happiness but feel formed through suffering,” Brooks writes. It is easy and certainly more fun to dream of our bright future than to live in our painful present or reflect on our difficult past. Suffering changes this logic of emphasizing our advantages and pleasures. It brings us to the present and provides a mirror in which we are forced to confront our own limitations. In this way, suffering can provide a deeper gift than even the most extreme happiness.

It is easy and simple to think of loss as purely loss (which it certainly can be at times). However, I believe Anne would have wanted the ASYV family to consider her death as something beyond the immeasurable pain abiding in her absence. Perhaps Anne’s death was her final contribution to the Village. I imagine Anne holding up a mirror, encouraging the students and staff to recognize their beautiful minds and spirits while also understanding the challenges, which are beyond any person’s control; to take responsibility for their actions and advantage of all the amazing opportunities ASYV provides; to gain a deeper understanding of themselves and their boundless self worth.

5 Things You Need To Know About Gisenyi

Noheli Nziza, Umwaka mushya!

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Before returning to the Village to welcome the new students, I traveled to Gisenyi, a town in the Western Province of Rwanda. Here are 5 things I think you need to know about this spectacular place!

1.  Order your food two hours before you want to eat, even if you are not hungry. For those of you who are close to me, you know that I suffer from hanger (becoming angry when hungry). Even if you are getting a raw avocado for lunch, it is imperative to order two hours before you think you may even begin to be hungry. It will probably take longer.
2. You will never be clean, but feeling dirty never looked so good. The running water vacillates between muddy brown and milky white. The insanely beautiful landscape of Lake Kivu makes up for your permanent stench.
3. Swim at your own risk. At least that is what the sign warns on the beach. Not that you need to worry about marine life; it is more the lax dumping laws from neighboring Goma, which brings me to the next point…
4. You are a hop, skip, or jump away from the Congo. Don’t worry; I did not go there. I just drove to the border, which consisted of fence barely two feet tall. Sorry Mom and Dad.
5. Gisenyi is one of the most beautiful places in the world. If you ever have a chance to visit Lake Kivu, take it. And then go back again and again and again.