6-29-10
OK, so I’ve never been that into soccer. I’ll admit it. I stopped playing soccer sometime in middle school to play field hockey, which is a sport that I’d still much rather play than soccer but is somewhat miserable to watch. I’m not that into watching sports. Sure, I love to go to lacrosse, baseball, soccer, football, hockey, fill-in-the-sport games but watching them on TV is really not my favorite past time. I didn’t watch the Super Bowl this year (I was in Paraguay, the announcing was in Spanish, they weren’t going to show the commercials, and I would have had to go to Hooters or TGIFridays in Asuncion to watch) and last year, though it was one of my last days in the US before Peace Corps, I fell asleep during the first quarter.
All that being said, however, this World Cup has been phenomenal! Like every other Latin American country I’ve been to, Paraguay loves its soccer. Everyone plays. Everyone watches. Everyone asks you what your favorite Paraguayan team is (Olympia should be your answer if we’re friends). Being here and watching with families in my neighborhood has been such a treat! The fact that Paraguay has now made it to the Quarter Finals is truly excellent. Today I watched the win in a restaurant in Limpio. When we all ran onto the street to see the fireworks (or just hear them—it was the middle of the day, after all) a guy who had been sitting at the next table pulled out a gun that apparently was tucked into his waistband and started shooting into the air. (I was especially glad we won at that point.) I hope that soccer gets bigger in the US. I think it will grow steadily over the next four years—I have two different friends who have World Cup related activities/blogs. (One followed US Soccer fans all the way to South Africa, and the other has sworn that he will move to whatever country wins the World Cup.) I hope that the next time the US advances more than it did this year. But really I’m just thrilled that I was able to be here, in Paraguay, at such an exciting time when a country the size of California with the population of Manhattan has gotten this far—top 8!! I know the next match will be a tough one. We’re playing Spain. They’re ranked #2 in the world. I’ll be stateside watching the game with my Paraguay jersey and Neil Armstrong-type Paraguay bracelet. All I have to say is FUERZA PARAGUAY!!
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
Hi-Yah Cock Block!!
OK, so just a quick comment about gutsy drunk Paraguayan men and the middle-aged ladies that are some of my closest friends...
Saturday night was the weird (and wonderful) San Juan Festival here in my neighborhood. There were definitely a bunch of drunk dudes there who were enthusiastically hitting on me. At one point a guy said "Sos de djaklfjda?" ("You're from da;lkfdjal?"--I didn't hear the last word). I asked, "From where?" He said "..de verdad?" or, in English: "for real?" In other words, "Are you real?" Then his buddy said my eyes were the color of the sea. Thanks, drunkies.
Anyway, I thought that was the hit-on highlight of the night, especially since one of my señora friends and her kids were with me...I'll never hear the end of it. BUT then I talked to another señora friend of mine yesterday and she asked if i had seen an especially drunk guy sitting in a chair near her husband all night. I said I had seen him, and that I had been avoiding him since he was looking at me so creepily. Apparently my intuition is right--he said to Mari (my friend), "What do you think I'd have to say to talk that girl into sleeping with me?" (Except "coger" was used which is realllly strong for Paraguay.) Mari, being the lovely lady she is, said, "I don't think you could say anything to do that...plus she knows karate, so you should watch out." Ha! Oh how I love my 40-something amigas! Fin.
Saturday night was the weird (and wonderful) San Juan Festival here in my neighborhood. There were definitely a bunch of drunk dudes there who were enthusiastically hitting on me. At one point a guy said "Sos de djaklfjda?" ("You're from da;lkfdjal?"--I didn't hear the last word). I asked, "From where?" He said "..de verdad?" or, in English: "for real?" In other words, "Are you real?" Then his buddy said my eyes were the color of the sea. Thanks, drunkies.
Anyway, I thought that was the hit-on highlight of the night, especially since one of my señora friends and her kids were with me...I'll never hear the end of it. BUT then I talked to another señora friend of mine yesterday and she asked if i had seen an especially drunk guy sitting in a chair near her husband all night. I said I had seen him, and that I had been avoiding him since he was looking at me so creepily. Apparently my intuition is right--he said to Mari (my friend), "What do you think I'd have to say to talk that girl into sleeping with me?" (Except "coger" was used which is realllly strong for Paraguay.) Mari, being the lovely lady she is, said, "I don't think you could say anything to do that...plus she knows karate, so you should watch out." Ha! Oh how I love my 40-something amigas! Fin.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Mis pantalones estan en fuego!
06-12-10 When I think of a bunch of young men scrambling up a greased-up pole, I generally think of the Naval Academy. (Hey, I’m from the Annapolis area.) And I usually don’t imagine those young men being in drag. Or wearing wigs. Or masks from the Scream movies. That all changed tonight. The Festival of San Juan is a weird, weird event. Yes, I said it. Yes, that might make me culturally insensitive. But I’ll stand by this statement. It doesn’t help that no one I asked could explain why they do any of the things they did. They only knew the names of various activities that are traditionally done for San Juan in Guarani. It should be mentioned that although San Juan generally consists of activities that include fire and others that do not, here in wonderful Villa Madrid those non-fire related activities were largely ignored. Oh how I love my neighborhood!
So, to be honest, I didn’t especially want to go to San Juan today. I’ve been kind of sick the past few days and really didn’t feel like being at a party where I was going to be standing around awkwardly with a bunch of people who watched a handful of teenagers dance. That is what many parties here look like. What do I usually do? Play with children. Anyway, my assumptions about what I was in for were totally off, thank God. I got there and went over to where some of my youth group was sitting behind a bare tree (actually branch) in a planter that was covered with little balloons. Children would come and pay 1,000Guaranis (20 cents) to pick a balloon. They pop said balloon and a piece of paper either says “San Juan tells you YES” or (you guessed it!) “San Juan tells you NO”. Yes means prize, No means you get nothing. Since it was the only activity for kids at the beginning, it was quite a hit. I was surprised because, to be honest, the prizes sucked. Who wants to win an eraser?? (Later another booth opened up for kids—you got a prize if you shot a can off of a windowsill. If I was ten and had to choose between popping a balloon and shooting a gun I’d probably chose the gun. Note: Not much has changed in the past 15 years, though I’ve never shot a gun…)
Some key male members of the youth group were missing though. Where were they? Prepping to be Cambã—I have no clue what that means, but it looked a lot like this. Have you ever drunkenly put together a Halloween costume? Well, you may well have fit right in at San Juan. When I asked about the theme of the costume, I was told they were all supposed to be ugly and (some thought) feminine, and disguised. The costumes ranged greatly, but each of our Cambã teens definitely had a stick. That threw me at first until I saw them running around dancing and having things thrown at them by children. The Cambã then ran after said children swinging that stick while a band of wind instruments played. It was weird. Luckily these boys are my amigos and gave the ever-valuable backstage pass where we had a little photo shoot.
Then I actually slipped out for a little while to eat fish (fish for the first time EVER in my neighborhood!) at a house nearby with one of my closest 40-something comedor lady friends at a party she invited me to. When we got back to the fiesta, the yvyra suĩ or greased-up pole was in full force. People were stacked on top of one another. Below? Cement, obviously. At the top of the pole were several prizes. There was a rumor that there was 100,000Gs (US$20) up there but it turned out just to be 2,000Gs (US40cents). Oops. What else? Some crackers, a soda, a bottle of caña (the super strong Paraguayan sugar cane booze), some cookies.
Next comes torro candi (or burning bull). In this a guy puts on a costume that you might otherwise see in a Chinese parade (I’m somehow blanking on the words right now), but it is of a bull. His front horns are lit on fire. He runs after people—mostly children—for a while. I don’t have anything really to say about this part except that when that dude did finally take off his costume he seemed quite drunk. It made me curious if there was anyone in particular in charge of these fire activities…
So at this point I’m feeling good—full of fish, sopa Paraguaya, and water (I don’t drink at all in my neighborhood because of a very strong divide between those who drink and those who work)—and so is everyone else. People are drunk. Very drunk. It’s still early enough in the month that people aren’t totally broke yet. The kids are running around, covered in grease from the pole, throwing cans at each other. As I’m talking to this nice couple I look over to see a handful of people crowding around a ball. Only it isn’t just a ball. It is a fireball. A ball of fire. In Guaraní: vacapipopo tatã. Anddddd it starts to get kicked around aimlessly. I’m sorry if I misled you before with the comment about me maybe being interested in shooting a gun but I’m actually a huge wuss. And a ball of fire was coming at me! What the F*%$? Somehow I’m one of the few people who seem at all concerned about the fireball. A kid falls down in a swing-and-a-miss kick. There is just laughter. An especially drunk guy picks it up and throws it—into a crowd! We’re talking about a ball of cloth with some sort of flammable spray helping the flames. I don’t know what else to say about this. It was insane. Check out the video at the bottom of this blog for a quick glimpse...
The finale was the burning of Judas. This was basically a scarecrow tied to another pole. I thought it’d just be burned but apparently it had “fireworks in his belly”, which of course became fireworks that shot sometimes into the air, but more often out into the crowd at random, causing screams of both joy and fear. It was quite an interesting night. Last year I actually went to the same party but went too early and stayed too short a time to see anything interesting. (I remember eating some food and then leaving because it was freezing and I had a ride home.) So I only have myself to blame for not seeing all this ridiculousness last year. The really good thing though? The actual San Juan Festival isn’t until the end of the month and I’m planning on going elsewhere to experience it again. There should be people walking on hot coals at the next festival as well…who knows? Maybe I’ll join them for a quick stroll…
So, to be honest, I didn’t especially want to go to San Juan today. I’ve been kind of sick the past few days and really didn’t feel like being at a party where I was going to be standing around awkwardly with a bunch of people who watched a handful of teenagers dance. That is what many parties here look like. What do I usually do? Play with children. Anyway, my assumptions about what I was in for were totally off, thank God. I got there and went over to where some of my youth group was sitting behind a bare tree (actually branch) in a planter that was covered with little balloons. Children would come and pay 1,000Guaranis (20 cents) to pick a balloon. They pop said balloon and a piece of paper either says “San Juan tells you YES” or (you guessed it!) “San Juan tells you NO”. Yes means prize, No means you get nothing. Since it was the only activity for kids at the beginning, it was quite a hit. I was surprised because, to be honest, the prizes sucked. Who wants to win an eraser?? (Later another booth opened up for kids—you got a prize if you shot a can off of a windowsill. If I was ten and had to choose between popping a balloon and shooting a gun I’d probably chose the gun. Note: Not much has changed in the past 15 years, though I’ve never shot a gun…)
Some key male members of the youth group were missing though. Where were they? Prepping to be Cambã—I have no clue what that means, but it looked a lot like this. Have you ever drunkenly put together a Halloween costume? Well, you may well have fit right in at San Juan. When I asked about the theme of the costume, I was told they were all supposed to be ugly and (some thought) feminine, and disguised. The costumes ranged greatly, but each of our Cambã teens definitely had a stick. That threw me at first until I saw them running around dancing and having things thrown at them by children. The Cambã then ran after said children swinging that stick while a band of wind instruments played. It was weird. Luckily these boys are my amigos and gave the ever-valuable backstage pass where we had a little photo shoot.
Then I actually slipped out for a little while to eat fish (fish for the first time EVER in my neighborhood!) at a house nearby with one of my closest 40-something comedor lady friends at a party she invited me to. When we got back to the fiesta, the yvyra suĩ or greased-up pole was in full force. People were stacked on top of one another. Below? Cement, obviously. At the top of the pole were several prizes. There was a rumor that there was 100,000Gs (US$20) up there but it turned out just to be 2,000Gs (US40cents). Oops. What else? Some crackers, a soda, a bottle of caña (the super strong Paraguayan sugar cane booze), some cookies.
Next comes torro candi (or burning bull). In this a guy puts on a costume that you might otherwise see in a Chinese parade (I’m somehow blanking on the words right now), but it is of a bull. His front horns are lit on fire. He runs after people—mostly children—for a while. I don’t have anything really to say about this part except that when that dude did finally take off his costume he seemed quite drunk. It made me curious if there was anyone in particular in charge of these fire activities…
So at this point I’m feeling good—full of fish, sopa Paraguaya, and water (I don’t drink at all in my neighborhood because of a very strong divide between those who drink and those who work)—and so is everyone else. People are drunk. Very drunk. It’s still early enough in the month that people aren’t totally broke yet. The kids are running around, covered in grease from the pole, throwing cans at each other. As I’m talking to this nice couple I look over to see a handful of people crowding around a ball. Only it isn’t just a ball. It is a fireball. A ball of fire. In Guaraní: vacapipopo tatã. Anddddd it starts to get kicked around aimlessly. I’m sorry if I misled you before with the comment about me maybe being interested in shooting a gun but I’m actually a huge wuss. And a ball of fire was coming at me! What the F*%$? Somehow I’m one of the few people who seem at all concerned about the fireball. A kid falls down in a swing-and-a-miss kick. There is just laughter. An especially drunk guy picks it up and throws it—into a crowd! We’re talking about a ball of cloth with some sort of flammable spray helping the flames. I don’t know what else to say about this. It was insane. Check out the video at the bottom of this blog for a quick glimpse...
The finale was the burning of Judas. This was basically a scarecrow tied to another pole. I thought it’d just be burned but apparently it had “fireworks in his belly”, which of course became fireworks that shot sometimes into the air, but more often out into the crowd at random, causing screams of both joy and fear. It was quite an interesting night. Last year I actually went to the same party but went too early and stayed too short a time to see anything interesting. (I remember eating some food and then leaving because it was freezing and I had a ride home.) So I only have myself to blame for not seeing all this ridiculousness last year. The really good thing though? The actual San Juan Festival isn’t until the end of the month and I’m planning on going elsewhere to experience it again. There should be people walking on hot coals at the next festival as well…who knows? Maybe I’ll join them for a quick stroll…
Friday, June 4, 2010
A Quick Note on Cat Proofing my Casa
I spent a while last night cat-proofing my house. No, this doesn't mean that I suddenly like cats and have decided to get a nasty little creature of my own. It means that ONCE AGAIN I have had a cat break into my house. Several months ago the cat marked its territory by leaving three kittens behind my fridge. This time it (actually probably a different cat) marked its territory in a more traditional sense. It urinated on a jacket of mine that I left on the big table in my main room. I went to put the jacket on last night to go to English class and smelled something foul. After some investigating, I found a small puddle next to where the jacket was sitting. Why do these cats consider my house to be a barn?? Ugh. I happen to love my casa.
So I spent some time with cardboard, the last of my duct-tape (gasp!), and some packaging tape patching up the front window--one of many my landlord had promised to fix months ago until he decided that they tried to charge us too much once they came to the house to measure and saw that I, a tall Norte, was living here. Since then I've just been waiting. And waiting knowing that nothing will be done about this situation. It doesn't actually really bother me to have some glass missing from the windows other than when rain and the now horribly frigidly cold weather and wind blows through the house, leaving me cold at night even when I wear spandex, sweats, a bathrobe and a winter hat to sleep.
Not all of the windows are blocked now. Unfortunately I've run out of cardboard just when I would be blocking my bedroom window. A few months ago a cat actually leapt through the window and then bolted through the house as I was watching a movie. Mokoi Nambi (the dog Two Ears who lived with me for a few months) didn't even react. I'm just hoping that I don't wake up one day with the cat cuddling up next to me as I sleep...
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