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 32 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.