Third Phase

11-06-09

OK, so to quickly recap, I live in the first phase of three phases in Villa Madrid, Limpio, Paraguay. The phases (now home to 750 houses) were built a year apart each and I believe started as a squatting community—I know some people had the shacks before they had the houses but I’m not sure of how completely the neighborhood was filled. The first phase, where I live, is the closest to the main road that leads to Limpio and then Asunción. It was built first about 16 years ago with the second phase following a year later and the third a year after that. Although they were really all built around the same time, there is a huge division between the phases. This continues for several reasons. The biggest of which, I believe, is that water is paid for by each phase separately. Each phase has its own tank and the water situation is sometimes completely different for each phase. When I arrived in site six months ago, for example, the third phase had water about 20 hours a day. Now I believe it has it about 3 hours a day like the first phase. I don’t know why else the phases are separated so strongly. Perhaps because if people in the first phase need something they tend to get it in the first phase or go along the main road. Since the second and third phases need to pass through the first in order to leave Villa Madrid I think everyone simply has become familiar with it over time. The church, elementary school, high school, and community center are also all in the first phase. In short, the first phase really has no need to go to the third phase.

A few years ago there was a huge gang problem apparently in Villa Madrid. Apparently many of the problems (and the occasional homicide) happened in the third phase. This too makes sense geographically—it is more secluded with fewer people passing through and generally fewer street lights and more trees. Regardless, the gang problem has since been resolved. I was told that the gangs essentially killed each other off, but who knows? Now it goes like this: I tell a Paraguayan not living in Limpio that I live in Limpio and they mention how dangerous (and dirty) it is. I tell a Paraguayan from Limpio that I live in Villa Madrid and they tell me how dangerous it is. Then, within Villa Madrid I’ll talk about how I’m working a lot in the third phase (that is where the comedor is) and they tell me that that is where it is the most dangerous and where all the drugs are.

I’m explaining all this because I am so frequently so pleased with my interactions in the third phase. Tonight was no exception. There was a meeting at the comedor. Everyone voted for new leaders to run the comedor itself, then, strangely I was asked to say a few things to the group. The vote went exactly as I wanted, which I was obviously pleased about. I think the new group will get along very well and has a great balance of people involved. My new youth group presented itself to the group and talked about a few upcoming projects. Tomorrow they’re doing a drug abuse chat with games and a visitor with a college degree and Sunday we’re having a picnic/dance party all day to raise some money for the comedor. The main kid who was going to start working at the super markets 36 hours a week has decided to cut down to about 20 and will remain the president. (I’m psyched about this because this kid is my hero and such a natural leader!) Then as a group we (Jovenes Unidos or United Youth as they just named themselves) cleaned the huge empty space that hosts the comedor Monday through Friday. Imagine 10 fourteen and fifteen year old kids and a few of their younger siblings (like my favorite 8 year old) and me slipping around on the floor while mopping. I seriously felt ten years younger. These kids are sweet and normal and just seem so into having good clean fun. Then after a quick chat on who is in charge of what this weekend (I’m in charge of playing games with younger kids) they asked me to go with them house to house asking their parents if they could walk with me to my house while they put up fliers about the chat and picnic (spelled “pigni” on their flier). I complied, thinking of all the times I begged my parents to extend my curfew those extra 15 minutes when I was their age. And because they ask me funny questions sometimes—the best (by far) tonight was whether there are 24 hour days in the United States.