So on Sunday the gas that makes my stove function ran out while I was heating up water to bathe. It wasn’t a huge deal—the water was warmish and I survived. We got paid on Tuesday and I was too poor to buy more gas Monday so I went without coffee Monday and Tuesday but headed off to Limpio (which is 3km away) with two 13-year-old kids from my neighborhood to get some more gas. We went to four different places but had zero luck and returned to my house empty handed. I talked to my neighbors and apparently there is a huge gas shortage in Paraguay. We import gas from Argentina and (as was explained to me repeatedly by various parties) it is so cold in Argentina right now that everyone is using more gas than usual and they feel no need to export any to little ol’ Paraguay. What does this mean for me? It means cold bucket bathing (during our winter), no coffee in the morning (which is KILLING me—Nescafe courses through my veins), or cooking of any kind. Apparently I can maybe find some in the capital, which is just an hour away, so I’ll need to continue my search ASAP.
As I mentioned in the last post, there has been some major drama with the women’s group. One lady called me this morning to ask me to come to her house as soon as I could. I had the eye doctors visiting again, and then realllly wanted to take a nap afterwards, so I told her I couldn’t be there until this evening. She texted me later asking me to come at 5pm and said it was urgent. I assumed it was a meeting for the women’s group but it was only her, her family, and the super muscular boxer she’s been trying to set me up with. Apparently it was just urgent because she wants to speed things up between him and me. He doesn’t live in my neighborhood, but is taller than me, has no children, and doesn’t have a girlfriend or wife. These were her selling points on this guy a month ago when I had a super awkward interaction with him where she forced the two of us to sit in her yard drinking terere (the cold tea) while the rest of the family left us alone. Some of the kids from the comedor were really curious, especially Diosnel (my favorite) who attempted to spy on the entire conversation (though not very stealthily). So now, thanks to the date disguised as a meeting, I’ve had a second date with this dude. Thanks, Lourdes.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Back Home with a Bang
07-22-10
So, I went to the US for about 12 days for a wonderful visit in mostly Chautauqua, NY and briefly in NYC. It was excellent. I was thrilled to see friends and family, eat delicious food, and enjoy the heat—the inescapable cold of Paraguayan winter is miserable. (Last week a fellow PCV who came in a year after me reminded me that a group of PCVs asked me what I disliked most about Paraguay and I said the cold weather. They scoffed since at the time we were sweating it out in 100degree heat and didn’t believe me when I explained that cold weather here is much worse than hot. The PCV now completely agrees with me, obviously.) Anyway, the US was fabulous and it was great seeing everyone—especially my family before my brother Rahde takes off for a year of studying open fire cooking techniques in Jamaica, South Africa, India, Turkey, and Austrailia. Check out his blog. www.rahdefranke.com
I got back to Paraguay last week but had a 4 day conference with other PCVs and some community contacts. (I am very pleased to report that both of mine showed up despite the fact that I wasn’t around to remind them! Lovely surprise!) Anyway, then I was back in site for a night before heading back to the capital to work on the Kuatiane’e (Guarani for “Talking Paper”), which is the PC Paraguay publication we put out 3 times a year. I’m one of the editors. When I got back to site Tuesday night I was thrilled to be back home, though not very excited to see that a deep clean of my little house was definitely in order. Yesterday (Wednesday) I cleaned a bit and then went down to the Comedor. Seeing the kids I work with about 4 days a week after not seeing them for 3 weeks was wonderful. There were a lot of hugs, double kisses (which I think is so funny and cute from an 8-year-old), and questions about the states. My favorite kid, Diosnel, acted like he didn’t see me for a while and instead continuously “accidentally” bumped into me repeatedly. He always reacts to me in the exact opposite was as the other kids. I told him (and the other kids) that I missed him and his face lit up…this kid so desperately needs some positive attention. It was fabulous seeing them all again. But I wish I could report that the whole reunion was a joyous one. I also got back to find that there has been an absurd amount of drama between the women who run the free meal program. They have been bickering and asking one another to step down from their positions. One woman apparently almost hit another in the face. Another claimed that she was the “Queen of the Kitchen” and said another woman couldn’t cook there. Within my youth group it seems as though there has been some drama as well, though not in any way as ridiculous as the drama between the women’s group. They’re switching their focus it seems and may not work with the comedor quite as much—instead focusing on building a business to make baked goods. Last night we had a two hour plus meeting in which we planned activities for Friendship Day (July 31st—big deal here), Kids’ Day (August 16th), and Youth Day (September 21st).
I talked to my landlord just as I was leaving my meeting and he asked if he could come over so I could pay rent. We had a bit of a mix-up in which I thought he was trying to charge me an extra month’s rent, but we figured it out. He is really an ideal landlord. I sometimes ask if I can do something to the house (like maybe paint the last room that hasn’t been painted) and he says, “This is your house—do whatever you want.” That being said, he isn’t super ideal in that I still have a bunch of broken windows that my fellow PCVs continuously ridicule me for. He told me last night that that can be the next step—fixing the windows—but I’m not holding my breath. He also asked me what kind of security I have. I told him I have five locks on the door and that seems to be enough. Then he asked me about guns. He knows a random mix of English words and loves to use them as much as possible, so his comments are more like, “Y que tenes para security?” and, “No hay guns en the house?” Sometimes I think he asks me things just to use his English vocab… Anyway, when he asked me if I had a gun, I said that I have a machete. He laughed and said that he could get me a gun. To which I laughed and said I’ve never shot a gun and I don’t know how. I am not sure where this assumption came (Westerns, NRA ads, Mafia movies, action movies, whatever?) but he absolutely did not believe that I had never shot a gun. He kept claiming that he knew I was an expert at shooting and nothing I could say could convince him otherwise. He even showed me a gun tucked into a holster and said he goes nowhere without it, suggesting I do the same. I said that as a PCV I am not allowed to have a gun (which I think is true but really doesn’t matter since buying a gun is the last thing I’d do) but am still kind of convinced that I’ll come home one day soon to find my very own gun and holster waiting.
So, I went to the US for about 12 days for a wonderful visit in mostly Chautauqua, NY and briefly in NYC. It was excellent. I was thrilled to see friends and family, eat delicious food, and enjoy the heat—the inescapable cold of Paraguayan winter is miserable. (Last week a fellow PCV who came in a year after me reminded me that a group of PCVs asked me what I disliked most about Paraguay and I said the cold weather. They scoffed since at the time we were sweating it out in 100degree heat and didn’t believe me when I explained that cold weather here is much worse than hot. The PCV now completely agrees with me, obviously.) Anyway, the US was fabulous and it was great seeing everyone—especially my family before my brother Rahde takes off for a year of studying open fire cooking techniques in Jamaica, South Africa, India, Turkey, and Austrailia. Check out his blog. www.rahdefranke.com
I got back to Paraguay last week but had a 4 day conference with other PCVs and some community contacts. (I am very pleased to report that both of mine showed up despite the fact that I wasn’t around to remind them! Lovely surprise!) Anyway, then I was back in site for a night before heading back to the capital to work on the Kuatiane’e (Guarani for “Talking Paper”), which is the PC Paraguay publication we put out 3 times a year. I’m one of the editors. When I got back to site Tuesday night I was thrilled to be back home, though not very excited to see that a deep clean of my little house was definitely in order. Yesterday (Wednesday) I cleaned a bit and then went down to the Comedor. Seeing the kids I work with about 4 days a week after not seeing them for 3 weeks was wonderful. There were a lot of hugs, double kisses (which I think is so funny and cute from an 8-year-old), and questions about the states. My favorite kid, Diosnel, acted like he didn’t see me for a while and instead continuously “accidentally” bumped into me repeatedly. He always reacts to me in the exact opposite was as the other kids. I told him (and the other kids) that I missed him and his face lit up…this kid so desperately needs some positive attention. It was fabulous seeing them all again. But I wish I could report that the whole reunion was a joyous one. I also got back to find that there has been an absurd amount of drama between the women who run the free meal program. They have been bickering and asking one another to step down from their positions. One woman apparently almost hit another in the face. Another claimed that she was the “Queen of the Kitchen” and said another woman couldn’t cook there. Within my youth group it seems as though there has been some drama as well, though not in any way as ridiculous as the drama between the women’s group. They’re switching their focus it seems and may not work with the comedor quite as much—instead focusing on building a business to make baked goods. Last night we had a two hour plus meeting in which we planned activities for Friendship Day (July 31st—big deal here), Kids’ Day (August 16th), and Youth Day (September 21st).
I talked to my landlord just as I was leaving my meeting and he asked if he could come over so I could pay rent. We had a bit of a mix-up in which I thought he was trying to charge me an extra month’s rent, but we figured it out. He is really an ideal landlord. I sometimes ask if I can do something to the house (like maybe paint the last room that hasn’t been painted) and he says, “This is your house—do whatever you want.” That being said, he isn’t super ideal in that I still have a bunch of broken windows that my fellow PCVs continuously ridicule me for. He told me last night that that can be the next step—fixing the windows—but I’m not holding my breath. He also asked me what kind of security I have. I told him I have five locks on the door and that seems to be enough. Then he asked me about guns. He knows a random mix of English words and loves to use them as much as possible, so his comments are more like, “Y que tenes para security?” and, “No hay guns en the house?” Sometimes I think he asks me things just to use his English vocab… Anyway, when he asked me if I had a gun, I said that I have a machete. He laughed and said that he could get me a gun. To which I laughed and said I’ve never shot a gun and I don’t know how. I am not sure where this assumption came (Westerns, NRA ads, Mafia movies, action movies, whatever?) but he absolutely did not believe that I had never shot a gun. He kept claiming that he knew I was an expert at shooting and nothing I could say could convince him otherwise. He even showed me a gun tucked into a holster and said he goes nowhere without it, suggesting I do the same. I said that as a PCV I am not allowed to have a gun (which I think is true but really doesn’t matter since buying a gun is the last thing I’d do) but am still kind of convinced that I’ll come home one day soon to find my very own gun and holster waiting.
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