The comforts of Atem Aleu's new home on Wellington Avenue provide a different setting than many of the places he's lived during his life's journey.
The 28-year-old Brandeis University student, who's pursuing a master's degree in cultural production, moved into the house last week. A home which he now shares with other international students.
Aleu is one of the Lost Boys of Sudan, political refugees, who through the help of the United Nations, were given the opportunity to receive asylum in America.
An artist and scholar from the Dinka Tribe, Aleu's story begins in southern Sudan. As a boy he and his family lived in the small town of Wernyol in the state of Jonglei, one of 26 states in the country.
"I didn't really spend enough time in Sudan," he said. "I was born in 1980 and in 1983 the war broke out."
Often referred to as the second Sudanese Civil War, where close to 1.9 people were killed in southern Sudan, the conflict pitted southern, non-Arab populations of the country against northern, mostly-Arab militias, resulting in what many call a massive genocide.
Between 1985 and 1986 Aleu's mother and father were killed in the war. Aleu lived with his grandmother and his brothers in Wernyol after his parent's were killed.
"My grandmother was really nice. She treated us really well," he said. "We stayed until the northern government came back again. They burned our huts. When they came back in 1987 it was terrible because they were looking to kill all the boys and keep all the girls for slavery."
First of many moves
In 1988, Aleu escaped with other boys to Ethiopia.
"We just ran away not knowing where we were going," he said. "We were just running away from the sound of gun shots."
The lost boys of Sudan were named after Peter Pan's cadre of orphans, according to the Red Cross. Some 26,000 Sudanese boys were forced from their villages in the late 1980s and trekked through sub-Saharan heat and wilderness. Relief came when Red Cross helicopters dropped them food or water. However, humanitarian groups could do little more to help them because of the raging violence in the region.
"Things were getting difficult," Aleu said of his escape. "As we traveled we'd meet another tribe and we didn't even know their language."
The refugees walked for roughly two months across Sudan to Ethiopia, according to a Red Cross Web site.
"When we got to Ethiopia things were still difficult. After some months the Red Cross started brining some food," Aleu said. "But if someone got sick, we didn't have any medicine."
Aleu said he and other members of Sudanese tribes made huts out of mud, clay, trees and rope.
Sudanese refugees spent about three years in various refugee camps until 1991 when they were forced to leave.
"When the war broke out again in Ethiopia, the Ethiopian rebels were friends with the Sudanese government," he said. "The Sudanese government told them to kill us so we had to leave the country."
Chased by Ethiopian government tanks and armed militia, the refugees tried to cross the River Gilo, where thousands drowned, were eaten by crocodiles or were shot, according to the Red Cross.
"We lost approximately 5,000," Aleu said. "They were shooting people and we were running to the river. They were shooting people and people were drowning in the river because they don't know how to swim."
After that, Aleu said he ended up taking refuge for three months in Sudan near the border of Ethiopia, until 1992 when he traveled to northern Kenya.
"We don't have transportation. We have no car," he said. "Some had no shoes. Some didn't even have clothes to wear."
In northern Kenya, things began to change for the better. Aleu said he was staying at the Kakuma Refugee Camp with many other Dinkas and other tribes.
"Things were still difficult but we're changing a bit," he said. "The (United Nations) had to provide us with materials to build (our) houses ... but still we had problems with food and water ... it was still very hard but things were not like how they were in Ethiopia and Sudan. People were wearing shoes and wearing clothes. The United Nations was trying to do as much as they (could)."
Self-taught artist
In 1994 while living in the camp, Aleu said he taught himself how to paint. The 14-year-old first used watercolor and eventually moved on to acrylic and oil paints. The paintings depicted images of his people and from his journey.
"I just taught myself and turned my history into a form of art," he said. "I was not expecting I was going to America but this was a key that people would learn about our suffering. I didn't speak any English but I could do this art so all people could understand the genocide."
Aleu said in 1998 United Nations officials created a relationship with United States to allow many of the refugees a chance to go to America and a chance to pursue higher education.
"They would allow us to get the education we need so we can help our people," he said. "We started hearing about this (chance for) coming to America. It took about two or three years to get everything in order. In 1998, United Nations officials began learning more about my art."
Through programs run at the camp by the United Nations, Aleu was identified along with several other people of having artistic potential. Aleu said he was soon interviewed by United Nations officials and then officials from Immigration and Naturalization Services.
After painting for them a series of paintings depicting his long journey from Sudan to northern Kenya, he was eventually resettled in America, arriving in Salt Lake City, Utah, in March 2001.
"Some things were very new to me. The city life was very new because I had not been in a big city before where there was a lot of electronics," he said. "For the first few months it was very hard for me ... but I was still keeping the vision about teaching people about the genocide in Sudan."
Within three months he set up his first gallery show with the Utah Arts Council. After this, others began to take notice, Aleu said.
Massachusetts bound
David Chanoff, a former Brandeis graduate student, was a key reason Aleu decided to move to Waltham. Chanoff said Aleu visited him and his family at his Marlborough home.
"My oldest son was a refugee worker and was kind of a point person that brought Aleu and his people here. He knew Atem and his camp," Chanoff said. "When (Aleu) got here I got in touch with him to see what I could do. On one of his trips he stayed with us and he left behind a huge duffel bag full of paintings here."
Chanoff, who is also academic advisor to the Sudanese Education Fund, got in touch with Brandeis University officials and decided to hold a gallery exhibition of Aleu's work in 2006.
"We thought we would be able to preserve them somehow so we started a collaboration with Brandeis University," he said. "Brandeis got to know about the paintings and did an exhibition. Eventually Atem decided to do his graduate work here."
Now Aleu travels back and forth to northern Kenya and Uganda to teach people how to create the art he is doing. He helped organize the African Refugee Artists Club, a diverse group of refugees in Africa whose members' ages range between 16 and 30 years old.
"The dream I have is to build an art center in southern Sudan," he said. "In Southern Sudan the people don't have a center ... most of the (artists) are musicians and I don't want to lose them either because they have a unique connection to raise awareness of Sudan and the suffering.
Aleu said he is also hoping to have an art show to showcase his work in Waltham.
"Maybe next month I would like to find a place outside of Brandeis to have a show," he said. "In Waltham? If I get a gallery absolutely I would."
Jeff Gilbride can be reached at 781-398-8005 or at jgilbrid@cnc.com.
