Issue 6 | Finding My Place – The Culture of Care Initiative

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October 2026

Editorial | Sixth issue of the Phoenix

Dear friends,

Welcome to the next issue of The Phoenix.

Finding a place is the theme of this issue. Finding a place in life. Finding a place to meet. Finding the place between the modern world and nature. Sébastien found a place close to home. There he met a number of people, many of them in transit from one place to the next, and some agreed to contribute to this issue. Among them are Sara, a young artist from Pakistan; Almaz, a mother from Ethiopia; and Angélica, a humanitarian worker from Mexico. Each of them tells stories, some lived first-hand, some witnessed, of people searching for and finding places. Like them, we sometimes stay and often move on, until we find the place where our outer and inner lives are in harmony.

Often, it is our inner places we are seeking to discover. In this issue I’m starting what I hope will become a regular feature: sharing my experiences with a nifty little tool for reflection, a deck of cards called the Tarot. To find out more, turn to page 14!

Christoph

The café “Le temps d’un arrêt”

By Sébastien Couturier

I have lived in this neighbourhood since 2008. And yet it is only now that I am rediscovering it, because my PTSD — post-traumatic stress disorder — kept me a prisoner inside my head, with my wars. With the smells and the images I brought back from eighteen years on mission with the Red Cross, years that shaped me. The earlier issues of our journal, The Phoenix, are a treasure to reread. My own present is different: I see it constantly through the lenses of my personal gas mask, which stops me from breathing and seeing freely. It is a constant, oppressive weight that distorts my perception of reality. A very simple example: here, there is no small-arms fire. On mission, for me, gunfire was the sound of ordinary daily life. That background noise went with the coffee at the office, before reading the emails from headquarters in Geneva. In short, it meant “all is well”, “same as always” — the “little atrocities” included, long since become ordinary. But silence — silence was heavy with menace. Terrifying, because it announced the massacres, the worst horrors and death drawing near. It still frightens me, sixteen years on, because the faces and the smells come back with the screams, without warning.

Then I found this place, “Le temps d’un arrêt” — “time for a pause” — which does me a world of good. I didn’t expect to be hit head-on by the field there, but in another form. A beautiful one, this time! It is the place of second chances: for me, as a customer, and for those who are trained and supported there by their teachers. A place where life paths turn beautiful after the hard times. They know nothing about me. To stay safe, as in the field, it is better not to draw attention. And then my hypervigilance keeps watch: I learned to scan for every threat in order to survive. The young waitress, Sara, with her smile, told me about the dish of the day she had cooked up, which came from her country, Pakistan. Ah! If only she had known what those words stirred up in me… The images of our colleague killed in Pakistan, Dr Khalil, and the story of my friend Mokhtar. Fortunately, she didn’t know. Without knowing it, she embodied life. And this time, it was life that won. I relished every mouthful. And so did my inner ghosts. I realised that I, too, am beginning to “come home” inside my head. Before, a moment like that was impossible for me.

Photo: Luwam, Almaz, Luca et Philippe (by Sébastien Couturier)

This place reminds me of my reintegration work in Kinshasa in 2001 with Barthélémy — Bart — and Freddy, two apprentice mechanics, former child soldiers released from a prison camp. It is possible to reawaken humanity, even in those one might think lost to boundless violence. For me, real actions count for more than diplomas, titles or positions. Here, in this restaurant, one of the chefs took the time to explain beekeeping to a newcomer, with a smile. And I, the former tropical beekeeper of a bygone era, long before the wars, lapped up every word. Ha ha ha! Without knowing it, he was brilliant! But what keeps me coming back, what gives the place its true worth, is not what is sold but what the whole team gives: their humanity!

Almaz, the older waitress, has that aura. You can see it in the way she is with everyone, young and old. She has that gentleness I associate with lived experience.

The kitchen team takes the time to do everything with care, talent and passion. No culinary variety for the influencers’ sake, no overpriced “quick and dirty”, but real know-how, right down to the taste of the biscuit that comes with your coffee! And the Christmas biscuits… I can’t wait for the next ones! I’ll let you taste for yourselves. Yum!

I confess that I savour what many would call “worthless”: watching elderly people quietly enjoy a coffee, the elegant, well-groomed lady busy with her important files, the person in a wheelchair chatting with another customer.

The postal worker, the police officer… It was when they were all missing that I understood how important each one of them was. Here, you pick up the phone and help comes. Elsewhere, it doesn’t! And the young lads outside, swaggering about: even they matter. When they get on my nerves, images come back like a brutal reminder. I think again of those streets full of bodies, all those intimate belongings, the contents of flats strewn across the floor. All these ordinary acts that make up daily life and that we no longer see — they are life! Why do you have to have been through hell, to have shovelled up its crumbs into a body bag in looted cities, before you understand that? That is the real question. I no longer look for answers to all my “whys” from the field, because there is no answer.

No more war. The present moment. Phew. And a smile with a coffee: what could be better?

This place, “Le temps d’un arrêt”, in Les Palettes, is for me an “ode to Peace”, composed and offered by everyone who is there. So come and have a coffee there too! The only risk is that you’ll want to come back to meet Philippe, Luca, Marco, Almaz, Lidya, Jonathan, Sara, Ousman, Luwam and all the other smiles I’m forgetting…

Project statistics

– Number of people taken on for training or reintegration: 164 young people in total since the project began in 2017, an annual average of 18 young people.

– Number of staff and trainees: 2 cooks who are socio-professional instructors (maîtres socioprofessionnels) and 1 catering assistant. In the past, 3 catering assistants have also come through the Réseau d’enseignement prioritaire (REP) on fixed-term contracts (contrats à durée maximale, CDM) of up to one year.

– Number of people who found a job or training afterwards: about half go on to find training or a job after their time here.

(Figures provided on 26 August 2026 by Mr Jean-Paul Stadelmann, Head of the Youth Unit, City of Lancy, Social Affairs and Housing Department.)

Finding My Place: My Personal Journey of Integration

By Almaz Giday

Integration in a foreign country is a journey. It is not something that happens overnight, and it does not mean losing who you are or forgetting where you come from. For me, integration has been a process of learning, adapting, meeting people, overcoming challenges and, most importantly, finding a balance between my roots and my new environment.

I remember when I left my country for the first time in 2010. Trying to fit into a new society was not easy.

One of the biggest challenges was the language barrier. I had to learn how to communicate, understand a different culture and adapt to a new way of life.

At that time, I was the wife of a humanitarian worker on international missions. We moved from one country to another several times within a few years. Each time, I had to start the process of adapting and integrating into a new society. Ironically, just when I began to feel at home and truly integrated, it was time to pack our bags and move again.

Over time, however, these experiences taught me something very important: integration takes time, patience and an open heart. Every place taught me something new. Every person I met added something to my understanding of the world. Although moving so often was sometimes difficult, it also made me stronger, more adaptable and more open to different cultures and ways of life.

When I moved to Geneva two years ago, I discovered something that I really appreciated. Geneva is a place where people from many different nationalities, cultures and backgrounds live together. This diversity makes me feel that there is a place for everyone.

Geneva also reminds me of Bahir Dar, the beautiful city in Ethiopia where I grew up. Bahir Dar is located in the north-western part of Ethiopia, on the shores of Lake Tana, one of the largest lakes in the country and the source of the Blue Nile River. In a different way, Geneva also has its beautiful Lake Geneva and the Rhône River.

This connection between the two places makes Geneva feel a little familiar to me. Although I am far from the place where I grew up, I have found small pieces of home in my new surroundings.

Photo by Christoph Hensch

For me, integration does not mean becoming someone else. It means bringing who I am, my culture, my experiences and my values, while also being willing to learn from others. It means participating in society, building relationships, learning the language and contributing in whatever way I can.

My journey is still continuing. There have been difficult moments, moments of uncertainty and moments when I wondered where I truly belonged. But there have also been many people who encouraged me, supported me and reminded me that every small step matters.

Today, I am grateful for every person and every organization that has supported and encouraged me along the way. I would especially like to thank Camarada, Ville de Lancy – Emploi Jeunes, Hospice général, the place where I work, the associations and organizations that have welcomed and supported me, and all my friends who encouraged me to write and share my experience.

Above all, I thank God, who carries me, gives me strength and gives me the grace to continue moving forward, even during difficult times.

My story is only one among many. But I believe that every story of integration has something valuable to teach. Sometimes, finding your place in a new country takes time. Sometimes, it takes courage to begin again. And sometimes, home is not only the place where we were born or grew up; it can also be the place where we find acceptance, connection, friendship and hope.

Integration is not about forgetting where we come from. It is about building a bridge between where we come from and where we are going.

About the author:

This story is shared from the perspective of a mother, wife of a former humanitarian worker, and a humanitarian in her own right. She is a woman deeply grateful for where she has been, where she is today, and hopeful for where she is going.

Her journey has taught her that integration is not about leaving our identity behind, but about carrying our stories and values with us while opening our hearts to new places and new experiences. Almaz shares her story with gratitude, hope and faith, trusting that the road ahead will continue to unfold.

ቤት ከሌለ ሕይወት ትርጉም የላትም።

Life has no meaning without a home.

ካልጠራህ በስተቀር ማን በሩን ይከፍታል።

Unless you call out, who will open the door?

Transcendence through the Prism of Youth

By Sara Saleem Daredia

A note before reading:
This piece discusses human trafficking, the sexual exploitation of a child, sexual violence and drug use. Please read at your own pace — you are welcome to pause, skip ahead, or come back to it later.

Transcendence through the Prism of Youth was a three-day-long art exhibition that I had worked on for over a year with my school friend and colleague, Paul Michael Rimmer back in 2022. We were 18 at the time and had both decided to take a gap year before jumping onto university. During this year, we collectively worked on this exhibition and then finally had it in Old Town Geneva, June 23 at 6 pm to June 26, 2022. An experience I treasure to this day, talk and write about.

The idea of a survivor had always intrigued Paul and me. Around seven years ago, Rasha Hammad, CEO and founder of Youth Underground, came to our school with a survivor of human trafficking. We were all moved by his story, but above all, by his courage as he shared his experience with such honesty and detail. Having spent much time together at school, Paul and I had had conversations around how such stories of hardship, gradual acceptance and empowerment greatly inspired us.

The Escape
Artists: Paul Michael Rimmer & Sara Saleem Daredia

This piece portrays Rayanne’s life being trafficked. The lack of details on the face suggest that her story could be anybody’s, highlighting the universality of the issue. Rayanne’s stilettos are a symbol of her life as a child forced into prostitution. The metallic background suggests the dazzling image of a city and the skyscrapers highlighting its overpowering nature in which the 16-year-old Rayanne feels lost. Nevertheless, her silhouette has been raised suggesting that she is escaping this defining phase of her life.

Rayanne and Antares were two survivors who had experienced trauma in distinctive ways, at different times and in different places. However, their healing journeys had been turbulent in similar ways. Rayanne was trafficked at age 16 in Vancouver, Canada. 1998, Rayanne was raped for the first time by her boyfriend and his friends. Coming from a dysfunctional family, she was desperate to find the love and affection she felt deprived of at home. She joined a gang with friends that allowed her to feel a sense of belonging. Spending most of her time on the streets, she was eventually taken in by a pimp. Then from one pimp to the next, she experienced severe physical and mental torture as a child forced into prostitution. However the true struggle began after she escaped the pimps, left alone to deal with her past and build her future. Her healing journey consisted of self-blame, anxiety and drugs. What kept her going was her love for horses, dogs, nature and books. In 2022, Rayanne came across to us as a 40 year old professional horse trainer, advocate, writer, consultant, and host of Focus Forward the Rayanne K. Irving Podcast. She is a lot more than just a survivor of human trafficking. An inspiration for many. Antares’s story will be explored in the next publication.

Turmoil
Artist: Paul Michael Rimmer

The most ‘sickening’ part out of all of this, as Rayanne mentions “was that [she] had spent 15 years believing [her] sexual servitude had been because, as society had told [her], [she] was a damaged nasty woman”. Convinced that it was all her fault, drugs entered her life at age 17. Having to face oneself in the mirror had become the ultimate challenge.

Paul and I tried to understand and interpret their stories, taking material significance into account, and experimented with various formal techniques, leading us to our six final pieces (three pieces to depict the healing journey of each survivor). Together both stories broke many preconceptions about survivors of trauma. Rayanne was trafficked and forced into child prostitution in her teens in Canada. The pieces were displayed in a linear fashion, taking the viewers on two journeys. While most of them might not have been able to relate to the exact experiences of Antares and Rayanne, their emotions were very human. The erratic nature of their healing journeys and the severe anxiety that both of them experienced could be relatable to many struggling with mental health.

The aim was to help the viewers feel a sense of empathy towards survivors of trauma. It was an effort to bring a change in society where instead of viewing survivors with pity, their courage was seen as an inspiration. Rayanne’s and Antares’s dedication to making the world a better place, could be a source of hope for many. This was also expressed by individuals who came to visit the exhibition, specifically at the thought corner, where many left their reflections, many of which resonated with them, finding the exhibition touching, moving and relatable. Some people came up to me afterwards and opened up about their own stories, sometimes very shocking. A reminder that anybody can go through tragedy, trauma and recovery.

This piece begins with Rayanne’s story.

Rayanne
Artist: Sara Saleem Daredia

Henna is used as a symbol of a survivor. To produce henna, their leaves are plucked from plants, and go through an intense grinding and fabrication process, nevertheless it is ultimately used to create fascinating body art. Moreover, henna’s grainy texture is in stark contrast to the perfectly cut lines and metallic feel in ‘The Escape’, hence highlighting Rayanne’s favourite memories from her childhood on the farm and her connection to nature. The vibrant colours she cherishes the most are also the ones most commonly found in nature – orange, green and yellow. Rayanne’s love for horses has been essential in her healing journey. A horse ride forces one to live in the moment, enjoying life in the present and temporarily disconnecting from the past.

About the author:

Sara Saleem Daredia is passionate about development in all its aspects. She is currently pursuing her master’s in Environmental Sciences at the University of Geneva. Art remains close to her heart, and she continues to explore it alongside her studies. Transcendence through the Prism of Youth was one of the exhibitions that left a lasting impact on her.

What Holds Up Life When and Where It Seems Impossible?

By Angélica Nieto

Eight years ago, I witnessed the most extraordinary example of nature’s capacity to hold up life during a mission in the Horn of Africa. I met a kid who had survived thanks to the care of a wolf. She, the wolf, had adopted him when he was very little and raised him in the mountains. It was unknown whether he had been abandoned or had become an orphan in the middle of the armed conflict. The community living in the valley knew that he would come down from the mountains to get food from the village once in a while and bring it to his pack.

When the conflict erupted again, with armed clashes in the mountains and surrounding villages, many people came to the village seeking safety. These newcomers were unfamiliar with the child, who had also fled to the village without his pack.

They beat him, fearing that he was possessed by a demon or an evil spirit. I saw the mob beating him in front of the hospital where I was working. When I approached them and saw the kid, unable to get my message across in their language, I hugged him to make them stop beating him. He bit my arm. I carried him to the hospital with the help of my team.

He was in a state of panic. We tried to help him feel calm and safe, and we went through different hypotheses to understand what was happening. We ruled out medical conditions that could explain the behaviours he was displaying, and we eventually learned his story thanks to some people from the host community who worked at the hospital.

As happens in most situations where medical teams do not find a medical cause to treat, it was mainly me, the psychologist, who was expected to “manage or deal” with the situation. Intuitively, I focused on ensuring that his basic needs were met, emphasising the importance of being as predictable as possible in order to reduce his startle response and fear.

During the first days, he started playing with other unaccompanied children whom we were caring for in the hospital, in the absence of local authorities to take care of them. It was so special to receive the morning briefing from the night-shift team, with the highlight being: “The kid was howling, and the other children have started howling with him.”

After some days, we resorted to finding him a foster family. We supported the process, and after a few days of being cared for by the family, he went back to the mountains. We believed he went to look for his pack and found it because he returned to the house of his foster family few days later for a short visit to be fed.

He came back to his way of life, going to the mountains and moving back and forth between his wolf family and his human family.

If nature’s design is supportive of life, if nature holds up life where there is violence – in this case, through the form of a wolf who took care of a child and raised him as part of her pack – the minimum we owe to this story is to take it as an ultimately clear principle for how to sustain life where it seems impossible: by taking care of life as much as we can.

In the midst of the dark circumstances that are shaking the world nowadays, what can hold up life, I believe, is to respect it and, consequently, to respect nature.

About the author:

Angélica Nieto is a Mexican psychologist who has lived and worked in Africa, Asia, the Americas, and Europe, providing direct care as a psychologist, and has also served as a technical advisor and been responsible for mental health and psychosocial support programs for communities affected by violence in its many forms, natural disasters, and epidemics. She currently offers online psychological support and trauma-informed psychotherapeutic accompaniment in English, Spanish and French for people who have migrated, for humanitarian workers, and for everyone who wishes to strengthen their mental health and well-being. You can contact her at: psicangelicacarrillo@gmail.com

A tree

A tree, a fracture, and two new beginnings.

How can we not draw the parallel with our own lives?

One day, its two branches may shelter more nests than a single, perfectly straight trunk…

Text: Sébastien Couturier – Photo: Christoph Hensch

The Cards as a Mirror: Tarot and the Slow Work of Recovery

By Christoph Hensch

Tarot is a deck of 78 illustrated cards, used in Europe since at least the fifteenth century — first for card games, and only later for reflection and divination. Today, an increasing number of people who have no interest in fortune-telling keep a deck on the table. They use it not to learn the future, but to slow down and listen to themselves.

That distinction matters, especially for us. After burnout or trauma, the mind often goes quiet in the wrong way — numb, foggy, unable to name what it carries. We have all read, in these pages, how hard it is to put the experience into words. A Tarot card does not predict anything. It offers an image — a tower, a star, a figure walking away — and asks a single, gentle question: what does this stir in me?

Used this way, the practice is simply structured reflection. You draw one card in the morning, sit with a question you are afraid to ask directly, and write what surfaces. The image becomes a doorway to feelings that resist plain language. It externalises the inner weather, so you can look at it rather than drown in it.

To be honest: there is no clinical evidence that Tarot treats PTSD, and it is no substitute for therapy or peer support. What it can be is a companion to them — a low-cost, private ritual of attention, one you control entirely.

The recovery we describe in The Phoenix is never a recipe. It is a path walked one step at a time, often through fog. Tarot, for some, is one more walking stick: not magic, but a mirror held steady while you remember who you are becoming.

Image: Rider-Waite Smith Tarot

Tarot is only one form of a card oracle. There are many different oracle decks on the market nowadays that do not conform to the strict 78-card structure. Any type of card deck can serve the purpose and help your path of inner discovery. Choose one that is visually appealing to you, and which has imagery that you can relate to with your interests and/or cultural environment.

International Calendar

October
1st: International Day of Older Persons
2nd: International Day of Non-Violence
5th: World Teachers’ Day
10th: World Mental Health Day
11th: International Day of the Girl Child
15th: International Day of Rural Women
16th: World Food Day
17th: International Day for the Eradication of Poverty

November
2nd: International Day to End Impunity for Crimes against Journalists
14th: World Diabetes Day
16th: International Day for Tolerance
20th: World Children’s Day
25th: International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women
29th: International Day of Solidarity with the Palestinian People

December
1st: World AIDS Day
3rd: International Day of Persons with Disabilities
5th: International Volunteer Day for Economic and Social Development
9th: International Anti-Corruption Day
10th: Human Rights Day
17th: Remembrance Day for Humanitarian Aid Workers
18th: International Migrants Day
20th: International Human Solidarity Day

Photo by Christoph Hensch

The next issue will be about Remembrance …
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Feedback from our readers

We would be delighted by the feedback received from readers for the first issue of the Phoenix. It is very important to us to hear from you – about what you liked and about what we can improve!

Print Me
Print the Phoenix at home on A4 sheets and fold into a booklet:
→ In your printer set-up: choose ‘booklet’ instead of ‘2-sided’, and the document will print on four A4 sheets.

The Phoenix is a project by the Culture of Care Initiative. We endeavour to build a community of solidarity between all human beings globally. For suggestions, contributions, subscriptions, to give us a donation or any other message, please contact us at phoenix@culture-of-care.org.

The Editorial Team of The Phoenix

– Christoph Hensch, Humanitarian, Lived Experience Expert, Philosopher
– Sébastien Couturier, Peer support for humanitarian workers

With contributions and the support of a dedicated small team of volunteers.
Title page image provided by Sara Saleem Dared

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