I't is wicked cold in Paraguay. By wicked cold I mean in the mid 40s and 50s, but when you have no refuge from the cold, that's cold. Sure I was experiencing colder temperatures in Tennessee before departing, but that was when I had central heating, insulated houses, let alone houses that were closed to the elements. And appropriate attire. I'm a Floridian who came to South America for crying outloud. I was not expecting this. I've been wearing my lucky Gator hoodie every day now for almost 2 weeks, as when I had to send things to long term storage for Don Pedro to bring me in June, I sent my coat and sweater, as it was still warm. Now, I lay in bed in the morning in my Kelty mummy sleepìng bag, looking at my breath, and contemplate cutting holes in the bottom to put on my shoes and just hobble around the community like a walking bean pod. Showering has become a twice weekly, painfully freezing process.
I stagger out of bed, at 730, a minor miracle for myself, but looking like a lazy bum to the last family I was staying with, as they all got up with the roosters at 5, starting the fire for the fogon, milking the cows, scattering grain for the chickens. Anyways, I make my way to the kitchen, to prop my feet up in front of the fogon, or to warm my hands over the charcoal burning brasero and sometimes feel like I'm living in one of those Historic Colonial Tourist towns, like Williamsburg.
It doesn`t help that it has rained the past four days, and when it rains in Paraguay, especially cold rain, the world just stops. No one works. The kids didn't go to school as the roads became impassable muck and the whole campo operates by motorcycle. So I stayed inside for 4 days, with 4 stir crazy kids, their older sister and mom. I finally had time to go back and finish Shadow Divers, after having to put it aside in the chaos of swearing in, finished that by flashlight, as if you get up at 5, then you go to bed around 8, after finising Victorino, the first of I'm sure many telenovelas, or soap operas that I'll be sucked into with my senora neighbors. PS This keyboard is all whacked out and none of the buttons I'm pressing correspond to the punctuation I want, like parehtheses. Only a journalism major would feel the need to disclaimer a blog... Anyways, now I'm 350 pages into the Time Traveler's Wife, something light after diving U869 off the coast of New Jersey for a month.
They say that the first three months in site are the hardest three months of ''the toughest job that you'll ever love,'' so in theory I very well could be in the midst of the hardest three months of my life. Thank God for the Peace Corps library. Seriously though, it's really hard to find one's role in all this. They provide goals for health workers and guidelines within which months we should strive to accomplish these goals, but the how and the when really are left to us, with the first three months really focusing on nothing more than getting the community to warm up to you, learning the language, defining projects to focus on and community resources and by three month follow up we turn in a census and community study that includes at least 50 houses. That translates to me finding myself in a lot of awkward terere, or in the case of winter, mate, sessions where I make small talk in my second language and say cutesy baby phrases in my third. I have done some more formal things like attended the two schools to meet the teachers and talk about what they hope I can accomplish. One particularly guapa teacher is really motivated about trying to fundraise to bring computers and international sports equipment, particularly basketball, to the school, both of which I'm eager to pursue. When the half Hoosier in me sees a means for basketball, I follow it, haha. I also attended their school garden and recognized a need to start a girls' youth group, after watching a few of them approach a male teacher for chores to help prepare the soil and he sent them to go sweep the classrooms and rake the yard. Obviously, being my first day I couldn't be the Norte demanding gender equality on the spot, but I did stand my ground as the only female doing any work in the whole garden, to show the female students that we as a group were capable of this type of work and to make a point to the males that I wasn't going to be scared off so easily. That's why I'm here 2 years. To silently observe and approach what I've noted after they feel at ease with me. Soon I will have my girls' club to discuss self esteem, gender equality, goal planning, options for university. I met one girl who told me she wants to study medicine but her family wants her to live with her sister in the capital and study hair dressing. Not that I'm dishing on hair dressing, but I really want to support her in finding means to see her goals through, as with all the youth in my site.
Besides that little endeavor, two other activities included attending a PTA meeting where they proceeded to fight over me, in that they were copcerned which of the two communities would take responsibility for me in the eyes of Peace Corps, worried that while working in another community if something happened to me they'd be responsible. Have you ever been in a room where 12 people are arguing, which escalates to shouting in an indigenous language about you while you're in the room, but no one directly addresses you with the questions because you don't speak their language so you might as well be a blonde, glasses wearing lamp? I have. I tried to appease them that when Don Pedro comes in June to formally present me he could address all these issues, but they still kind of disbanded unsettled. Aside from that I made soy milk and meat with the woman whose house I moved to yesterday as the health sector is a big proponent of teaching the health benefits and cost effectiveness of cooking with soy. We do eat an absurd amount of meat down here, so it's not surprising one of the health issues I work with a lot is hyper tension.
Anyways, it's about time to head back to Tercera Linea, as the bus from Caaguazu to there leaves a 330 and I'm in town learning the ropes from my closest PCV neighbor Kyle.
My number is posted and I'm in the hardest three months, so give me a call!
Ciacito.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Let the Caaguazu Games Begin.
Well boys and girls, today I'm moving to site. Such a surreal, stark change from everything I've become accoustomed to thus far that it's almost too overwhelming to comprehend. Today is one of those times where I just have to move from step to step (pack bags, check, leave hotel, check, visit PC office, check, make way to terminal...) because if I look at the overall picture, I think I'll have a PY panic attack.
Last Friday, I stood up in front of the American Ambassador, took an oath to make America proud, and agreed to two years of service in my new home in Caaguazu. Then we ate the best chocolate cake ever; all the buildup we got from staff and current volunteers and it didn't disappoint (in my opinion, PY's really don't grasp how baked goods should be. Betty Crocker could find her niche down here.) After three months of classes, supportive host communities, and my closeknit group of former aspirantes (now Volunteers!!)I'm suddenly floundering through Paraguay completely on my own. It was a nice feeling the past couple of days, getting to make my own decisions about the days' activities and navigating the city like a champ after being out in the campo since February, but today hugging people one by one as we all loaded our bags into the taxis and dispersed throughout the country, the reality of being "THE American" in my community could no longer be ignored. At least we received cell phones when we swore in, so we can call each other to complain about getting Mondongo (some unidentified cow intestines, possibly stomach, no one could really define it for me, that I got served my prior visit to Caaguazu)or when I'm lonely and have spent too much time inside my own head after entire days of conversing like a 4-year-old in Guarani. (some commonly used phrases in my word bank: I want sleep. Delicious Food. I speak little Guarani. My head hurts. Leave me alone, goat. (it started chewing on my clothes while drinking terere with the family.))
Recent points of interest: I made an investment for my sanity in solitude by purchasing a guitar in Luque, a city famous for manufacturing instruments, about two weeks prior. Another PCV taught me Steve Miller Band's, The Joker, and the closest volunteer to me plays guitar, so he's going to teach me (he doesn't know that yet.) That being said, an awesome suggestion to include in a care package would be some books on teaching yourself to play. Another end of training trip we took was to Caarpegua, a city famous for making hammocks. You better believe that I bought the only orange and blue checkered hammock that I could find. Every since I knew I was coming down here and found that video, "the sites and sounds of Paraguay," on YouTube, I knew the two splurges I had to make toward my tranquilo lifestyle would be these items. I can't wait until I finally move into my own house in August and can start living this dream.
Another interesting note was that I represented the Americans at Guasu Cora's cultural festival a couple evenings ago by belting our National Anthem per request of my friends. Don't worry there is video to come. Halfway through the evening it started to rain, so they had to relocate the performance to the school's hallway, so there I was singing to about 125 people, 11 or so who had a clue what I was actually saying.
Leaving GC was hard, both physically and emotionally. Physically because my stuff somehow seemed to procreate on its own and for winning "the girl who traveled here with the lightest/ least amount of bags" award (we watched the scales at the airport. I learned my lesson dragging an absurd amount of rollerbags across Europe.) I sure had to leave a lot of things in PC's long term storage for Don Pedro, the director of the health sector, to bring out to me when he comes to do my site presentation on June 10 (the official announcement to the community of who I am and what I came to do.) Emotionally as well, because at our farewell party a lot of the moms sang to us "amigos para siempre" (friends forever) little siblings were crying at the loss of their host brothers or sisters, and lots of grandmas were sobbing and giving us the benediction. It's unbelievable how close we all came to our host families. I'm going back in June for a combined birthday visit with some other PCV's to see my family and great aunt next door.
Asuncion was fun. I discovered Bolsi, where I had my first burger in months. BBQ sauce, carmelized onion, and blue cheese. I might be the slowest I've ever eaten as I didn't want it to end. There's only so many combinations of food made out of corn meal and pig fat that you can take before you start to lose interest in eating altogether. Sometimes I wonder if a PY ever visited the States if they'd just have a flavor overload. On the plus side, I've been fighting the PC stereotype that only the guys lose weight, while the girls gain it. Since arriving in February, I lost 11 lbs without much effort really, and judging from what I ate in Caaguazu on my visit, with three more months of floating between families, I can only see this trend continuing. On a side note, Ashley Glenn, when I saw those sour gummy worms in my care package last night, my soul did cartwheels.
Other fun activites included my first movie, which was surprisingly in English with subtitles (apparently most movies are this way) though the choice wasn't the best. All the girls wanted to see It's Complicated, which was so cheesily bad that being the only people in the theatre, we just sat there and made fun of the ridiculous background music and unrealistic, overly sappy, Abercrombie and Fitch model children of Meryl Streep. Very entertaining. We also went out dancing and to "Ahendu" an open mike night fundraiser for the music project with PY children, in which other volunteers performed, so that gave us a good chance to meet fellow PCV's in other sectors. The number of malls in this town was startling and I have a harder time with culture shock in Asuncion then with my rooster-alarmclock, wave to the man on the ox cart on my way to school, no shoes wearing children, etc. campo lifestyle since that's what I arrived expecting and am now accustomed to. Though, I can not tell a lie, I ate Burger King two days in a row (though Saturday was Dia de los Trabajadores, or Labor Day, so in my defense near everything was closed, limiting our options.)
Anyways, I'm starting to wander into the rambling portion of the entry as I'm putting off making the trek to Caaguazu, but I guess it's time to suck it up and see what this PCV is made of. I hope I don't have to sit close to any smelly Mennonites this bus ride.
Like I said above, I have a cell now. The number is listed on my facebook. If you don't have an account, email me and I'll forward it to you. It's free for me to receive calls from the states and if you buy skype credit, it should be about 2 cents/minute for you to call me. Also I hopefully have a computer coming from the states in June, and most importantly I am now in command of my own schedule as a PCV (self motivation is key) so we should all be in touch with higher frequency.
Talk to you soon, amigos.
Steph
Last Friday, I stood up in front of the American Ambassador, took an oath to make America proud, and agreed to two years of service in my new home in Caaguazu. Then we ate the best chocolate cake ever; all the buildup we got from staff and current volunteers and it didn't disappoint (in my opinion, PY's really don't grasp how baked goods should be. Betty Crocker could find her niche down here.) After three months of classes, supportive host communities, and my closeknit group of former aspirantes (now Volunteers!!)I'm suddenly floundering through Paraguay completely on my own. It was a nice feeling the past couple of days, getting to make my own decisions about the days' activities and navigating the city like a champ after being out in the campo since February, but today hugging people one by one as we all loaded our bags into the taxis and dispersed throughout the country, the reality of being "THE American" in my community could no longer be ignored. At least we received cell phones when we swore in, so we can call each other to complain about getting Mondongo (some unidentified cow intestines, possibly stomach, no one could really define it for me, that I got served my prior visit to Caaguazu)or when I'm lonely and have spent too much time inside my own head after entire days of conversing like a 4-year-old in Guarani. (some commonly used phrases in my word bank: I want sleep. Delicious Food. I speak little Guarani. My head hurts. Leave me alone, goat. (it started chewing on my clothes while drinking terere with the family.))
Recent points of interest: I made an investment for my sanity in solitude by purchasing a guitar in Luque, a city famous for manufacturing instruments, about two weeks prior. Another PCV taught me Steve Miller Band's, The Joker, and the closest volunteer to me plays guitar, so he's going to teach me (he doesn't know that yet.) That being said, an awesome suggestion to include in a care package would be some books on teaching yourself to play. Another end of training trip we took was to Caarpegua, a city famous for making hammocks. You better believe that I bought the only orange and blue checkered hammock that I could find. Every since I knew I was coming down here and found that video, "the sites and sounds of Paraguay," on YouTube, I knew the two splurges I had to make toward my tranquilo lifestyle would be these items. I can't wait until I finally move into my own house in August and can start living this dream.
Another interesting note was that I represented the Americans at Guasu Cora's cultural festival a couple evenings ago by belting our National Anthem per request of my friends. Don't worry there is video to come. Halfway through the evening it started to rain, so they had to relocate the performance to the school's hallway, so there I was singing to about 125 people, 11 or so who had a clue what I was actually saying.
Leaving GC was hard, both physically and emotionally. Physically because my stuff somehow seemed to procreate on its own and for winning "the girl who traveled here with the lightest/ least amount of bags" award (we watched the scales at the airport. I learned my lesson dragging an absurd amount of rollerbags across Europe.) I sure had to leave a lot of things in PC's long term storage for Don Pedro, the director of the health sector, to bring out to me when he comes to do my site presentation on June 10 (the official announcement to the community of who I am and what I came to do.) Emotionally as well, because at our farewell party a lot of the moms sang to us "amigos para siempre" (friends forever) little siblings were crying at the loss of their host brothers or sisters, and lots of grandmas were sobbing and giving us the benediction. It's unbelievable how close we all came to our host families. I'm going back in June for a combined birthday visit with some other PCV's to see my family and great aunt next door.
Asuncion was fun. I discovered Bolsi, where I had my first burger in months. BBQ sauce, carmelized onion, and blue cheese. I might be the slowest I've ever eaten as I didn't want it to end. There's only so many combinations of food made out of corn meal and pig fat that you can take before you start to lose interest in eating altogether. Sometimes I wonder if a PY ever visited the States if they'd just have a flavor overload. On the plus side, I've been fighting the PC stereotype that only the guys lose weight, while the girls gain it. Since arriving in February, I lost 11 lbs without much effort really, and judging from what I ate in Caaguazu on my visit, with three more months of floating between families, I can only see this trend continuing. On a side note, Ashley Glenn, when I saw those sour gummy worms in my care package last night, my soul did cartwheels.
Other fun activites included my first movie, which was surprisingly in English with subtitles (apparently most movies are this way) though the choice wasn't the best. All the girls wanted to see It's Complicated, which was so cheesily bad that being the only people in the theatre, we just sat there and made fun of the ridiculous background music and unrealistic, overly sappy, Abercrombie and Fitch model children of Meryl Streep. Very entertaining. We also went out dancing and to "Ahendu" an open mike night fundraiser for the music project with PY children, in which other volunteers performed, so that gave us a good chance to meet fellow PCV's in other sectors. The number of malls in this town was startling and I have a harder time with culture shock in Asuncion then with my rooster-alarmclock, wave to the man on the ox cart on my way to school, no shoes wearing children, etc. campo lifestyle since that's what I arrived expecting and am now accustomed to. Though, I can not tell a lie, I ate Burger King two days in a row (though Saturday was Dia de los Trabajadores, or Labor Day, so in my defense near everything was closed, limiting our options.)
Anyways, I'm starting to wander into the rambling portion of the entry as I'm putting off making the trek to Caaguazu, but I guess it's time to suck it up and see what this PCV is made of. I hope I don't have to sit close to any smelly Mennonites this bus ride.
Like I said above, I have a cell now. The number is listed on my facebook. If you don't have an account, email me and I'll forward it to you. It's free for me to receive calls from the states and if you buy skype credit, it should be about 2 cents/minute for you to call me. Also I hopefully have a computer coming from the states in June, and most importantly I am now in command of my own schedule as a PCV (self motivation is key) so we should all be in touch with higher frequency.
Talk to you soon, amigos.
Steph
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