Opinion
OTHER VIEWS
Contentment To Remember
Far left: The U-M Chabad contingent is shown with kids
at an Argentinian center for at-risk Jewish youth. Rabbi
Alter Goldstein is on the right.
Left: Eden Litt, foreground, and Danielle Becker help paint
a home on their U-M Chabad mission to Buenos Aires.
Ann Arbor
D
ing-dong. Ding-dong.
Ding-dong. We waited
patiently for 10 min-
utes at the door. No answer.
We were about to leave, when
a friendly, humbled face opened
the front doors of the apartment
complex to let us in. The man
mumbled something in Spanish
and then led us upstairs to the
door of the old man's home. The
door creaked open and out popped a
teeny little old man who spoke broken
English and a high-pitched version of
Argentinean Spanish.
He welcomed us into his home — a
scene that I will bring with me to the
grave. Atrocious. Disgusting. Dirty. All
understatements. Cockroach carcasses
rotted away in the kitchen; the Yerba tea
in the traditional Mate cup had been
sitting on the table for at least a decade.
And it was obvious that the man hadn't
removed a single object that had entered
his home for at least a century. The smell
was so vulgar that I learned to breathe
solely through my mouth.
We were sent to this man's home to
paint his walls. However, when our alter-
native spring break group entered his
home, painting was put at the bottom
of our to-do list. With nothing on hand,
several individuals trekked out to nearby
convenience stores to pick up groceries
for him and cleaning supplies for his
house.
We had one group scrub the kitchen
grime, soak the used dishes, sweep up
the dead cockroaches and spray the live
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April 19 m 2007
ones. Another painted the
walls of a hallway, bathroom
and a bedroom. And finally,
one group attempted to fix
the pulley system of a broken
clothesline.
Around lunchtime, the old
man's two little grandchildren
joined in on our festivities.
The girl splattered paint
everywhere and on every-
thing. Pointing to the walls,
"Aca?" she would ask. "Si,"
everyone would enthusiastically respond
(this was one of the few Spanish words
we had conquered).
The boy was less daring to get his
hands dirty, but nonetheless painted and
eagerly watched the random Americans
in his grandfather's home. Singing songs
(e.g. "Lean on Me" and "Salaam"), coming
up with creative ways to get the finish-
ing touches on the ceiling, and hanging
up pictures of the Lubavitcher Rebbe
from his vintage Jewish pictures on areas
where our fresh paint had cracked —
were a few of the unforgettable moments.
In the late afternoon, a frenzied neigh-
bor greeted us, speaking rapid Spanish.
After she explained the story 33.5 times
and brought the apartment complex
manager to us, we realized that they were
hysterical about paint that we dripped in
the main hallway. We offered to clean it
up, but the women responded with rag-
ing Spanish that made my ears ring.
We got down on our hands and knees
for another 20 minutes, scrubbing the
complex's main hall steps — the speck-
led marbled floor made the task nearly
impossible.
The Backdrop
Little did they know, we had spent
the past week there, in Buenos Aires,
Argentina, working with an Alternative
Spring Break through the Chabad student
center at the Univeristy of Michigan. We
devoted our time to the mitzvot (good
deeds) and tzedekah (charity) that the
Jewish religion embodies wholeheartedly.
In Buenos Aires we volunteered at
Ieladeinu, a Jewish center for at-risk
Jewish youth, painted murals on the
walls of their center, delivered meals
to elderly, painted the walls of various
Jewish people's homes, played soccer
with Argentinean children and went on
a shopping spree for fun toys and educa-
tional tools for the children of Ieladeinu.
We came to the old man's home to
improve his life, to show him that Jews
around the world knew about him and
cared. But to his irate neighbors, we were
random American strangers who had
gotten paint on their possessions. It's
not that they didn't care; they just didn't
understand. It was the epitome of a lan-
guage barrier.
And in a sense, this was the first time
ever in my life where any sense of accom-
plishment that I had felt from that long
cleansing day had vanished within an
instant. But I would be lying if I said that
I felt nothing after leaving the experience.
In fact, the women made me feel even
more fulfilled because they had no sense
of exactly how much we had completed
that week — this just being the cherry
on top.
While the visions of cockroaches still
plague my mind, the smell of molding
food haunts my nasal memories, and the
screeching of the enraged Argentinean
women still echoes in my ears — these
sights, smells and sounds will never
replace the image of the freshly painted
home, tidily cleaned rooms, fully stocked
cupboards of food, smiling grandchildren
and the old man sitting at the end of his
dinner table completely content with life
for at least that moment.
Eden Litt, 20, of West Bloomfield is a gradu-
ating senior, majoring in psychology, at the
University of Michigan.
Trip participants:
Rabbi Alter Goldstein, U-M Chabad House; Marina Abayev Commerce;
Danielle Becker, Port Washington, N.Y.; Joshua Bloom, Ann Arbor;
Meredith Dicker, Rockville, Md.; Aaron Ellias Farmington Hills; Bella Feldbaum,
Northville; Nathan Fink, West Bloomfield; Michael Kaplan, Skokie, Ill.;
Mike Katz, Newton, Mass.; Eden Litt, West Bloomfield; Yana Ovshey, Brooklyn;
Ian Robinson, Franklin; Eric Rosenbloom, Farmington Hills; Erika Sallen, West
Bloomfied; Mia Schon, Newton, Mass.; Ari Siegel; Grand Rapids; Bradley
Stulberg, Farmington Hills; Shana Supowit, Farmington Hills; Carly Wayne, West
Bloomfield; Leslie Zaikis, Marblehead, Mass.