07.06.2023

Beacon Student Shares Experience Building Cisterns to Help Families in the Sertão of Pernambuco

The trip of the high school students from Beacon School to the community of Riacho das Almas in the sertão of Pernambuco concluded with the construction of three cisterns for water collection for families in the Riacho das Almas community, near Caruaru. The funds to make this project a reality were raised through donations from families. We thank the families for their support and congratulate the students who were involved in this initiative.

Below, we share the touching account of student Luiza Chammas De Carvalho, who spent a week in Riacho das Almas and could witness firsthand the impact that the cisterns have on the community’s life.

Riacho das Almas
by Luiza Chammas De Carvalho

The trip to the Northeastern backlands changed my life in many more ways than I expected. I arrived in Caruaru afraid of what I would find and apprehensive about many factors. I had never built a cistern before and had never had contact with such an impoverished segment of society – impoverished in numerous ways, but certainly not lacking in happiness.

I embarked on the trip hoping to make a difference, and on the day we were introduced to the itinerary, I was not very enthusiastic – the purpose of the trip was to do something I had never done before in my life. I tried to put that aside and remain enthusiastic about the idea of the possibility of changing someone’s life.

The next day, we went to Riacho das Almas. Actually, the name of the place does not do justice to the people who live there. There are many souls – happy, grateful, and enthusiastic souls – but there is no stream. In fact, the families of Riacho das Almas lack precisely that: a water source. A source of life.

Upon arrival, I was introduced to Katiane and her children – the ones who would receive the cistern. Katiane always had a smile on her face, but she was a woman of few words. She smiled more than she spoke, but to me, that smile conveyed everything I needed to know: that she did not mind our presence in her home. Obviously, the end product would benefit her, but until then, her house would temporarily be dusty, and I did not want to cause any inconvenience to this woman who had to bear the burden of not being able to provide a basic right to her children – the right to water. For me, a decent and clean dwelling was just a fraction of what I owed her.

When I stepped into Katiane’s house, I felt fear. Fear because it was so different from my reality, fear because empathizing with and understanding the situation of those people went beyond words. On the first day, I kept my distance. I carried out the tasks of the day, but it was difficult to look at those people and not feel pity – and they did not deserve my pity. They deserved my help.

On the second day, I entered Katiane’s house with a completely different mindset. I would not feel sorry for them. I would try to see the good things in their lives. Learn from their gratitude.

I played with Jadi, Katiane’s youngest son, and played soccer with her other two children. That Tuesday nourished my soul. I felt connected, I felt grateful. Grateful for the opportunity to meet those children. They were small but dreamers. So financially deprived, yet so hopeful. Katiane’s children wanted to play for the Brazilian national soccer team, even though they only had a deflated ball and a slipper as a goalpost. They taught me that dreaming is for everyone and that richness lies in allowing oneself to dream, even without the resources at the moment to achieve that dream. I ended Tuesday with a heart full of gratitude.

On Wednesday, we only worked in the morning, and early on the children were not at home as they had gone to school. At ten in the morning, they appeared, saying that the school had no power and they had to redo the two-hour journey back home. At that moment, I looked at Katiane’s children and saw no sadness or heard any complaints – they were already accustomed to it. Absence was a constant in their lives. There was a lack of water, electricity, money, and they even missed school. That night, I slept with a heavy heart and prayed fervently that someday “lack” would cease to be a constant and dignity would prevail in their lives.

On Thursday, I worked side by side with Betinho, the chief mason of the cistern we were building. Betinho was a man of few words, rarely smiled, and probably had no idea what I, clumsy and inexperienced in construction, was doing there. But on that day, I connected with him and made it my mission. I got to know a little about Betinho’s life, how building these cisterns fed his soul, and how difficult it was to be a mason. It was a poorly paid job that required so much.

Betinho was not just any mason. He was a man on a mission: to bring water to the families in northeastern Brazil. He approached his work with care and dedication, and would get nervous when I did something wrong – and now I understood why. Because for him, it wasn’t just a cistern. It was a source of life that would change generations. Betinho taught me that any work must have meaning behind it, a purpose, a mission. He taught me never to accept a job that wouldn’t nourish my soul or teach me more about gratitude. Betinho ceased to be the “mason who never smiled” and became “my great life teacher.”

On Friday, the cistern was almost finished, only lacking the finishing touches like painting. We completed the cistern in the morning, and looking at it filled me with an unimaginable joy. Seeing the smiles of Katiane, her neighbors, and her children made me smile too. Plate by plate, cement by cement, we ended up building a source of life.

In the afternoon, we officially handed over the cisterns to the families. It was beautiful. It was a delivery full of gratitude, hugs, and smiles. One of the homeowners couldn’t thank us enough and cried uncontrollably. I knew those tears were tears of joy, but it deeply touched me. She cried because she had something that was so simple and mundane to me.

Saying goodbye to Katiane, her children, and Betinho was not an easy task, and I immediately started to cry. Riacho das Almas was a very humble place, with families lacking a basic human right – the right to water. Something I took for granted with so little gratitude because it was so simple for me. I felt ungrateful. I know that complaining and lacking gratitude in daily life is inherent to human nature, but it hurt me. The trip to the northeastern backlands nourished my soul and taught me more than any other experience I’ve ever had. It proved to me that those families had dreams and a beautiful view – and that was enough. It was enough for them to live their days with a smile and gratitude. 

Water – trivial to me, wealth to them. Bath – basic to me, a privilege to them. Dreams – for me, often stemming from financial means, for them, rooted in hope. Gratitude – for me, manifests in good things happening, for them, manifests the moment they wake up and feel the blessing of being alive.

I hope that Jadi can grow up and always have access to water, and that it becomes a custom in his life from an early age, not a privilege. I hope that Katiane’s children can become part of the Brazilian national football team. I hope that Katiane continues to smile and that she always has a full cistern in her backyard.

The families of Riacho das Almas are full of faith, gratitude, and hope. They are completely happy even with what I considered very little. Now I see that those who have little are those who don’t dream. I hope to be like them someday.