So, I’ve been avoiding my blog for the past few weeks mostly because I’m kind of lazy but also because Nessie (or La Baronesa) died a couple of weeks ago. It was a terrible thing to see her die and was obviously quite painful for her at the end. I believe she had hemorrhagic gastroenteritis, which was probably a result of either her eating meat that was thoroughly cooked and then left out or possibly a problem she was born with. The meat hypothesis seems like an obvious one to me—Paraguayans cook their meat for an extremely long time, nearly burning it most of the time. There is never any pink in cooked meat here. Anyway, so I was totally heartbroken over Nessie to say the least. I live alone and it was nice having a distraction from a bunch of drama in my site that was happening in September. (There were two huge rifts in two of the main groups I work with—one ended up with a woman saying “You hit my kid in the face, I’ll hit you in the face” to a woman at the comedor. All this happened literally in front of 40 kids. They wouldn’t listen to me when I told them to take it to a more private place, nor when I reminded them of how immature and what bad examples they were being. Frustrating.) So Nessie had been a very positive distraction for me, and was the cutest thing ever. When she was obviously very sick (it happened pretty suddenly), I walked over to a veterinarian’s house with a neighbor. I don’t trust this vet to begin with since he had told my neighbors that their dog, Mika, was allergic to cats and that’s why her eyes were so red and messed up. It was very obvious that this was not the reason for her eye problem, and no amount of allergy shots helped. But my vet lives 45 minutes away and wouldn’t be able to help until the next morning. So we walk over to Dr. Incompetente’s house. He gave Nessie a few shots. (After looking all this up online it turns out that there was really nothing he could have done to save her at that point.) After giving Nessie the shots and some medicine orally, he asked how she was doing. I choked out that she wasn’t breathing. The vet’s wife in the exact same moment in which I gave the news asked if I wanted a new puppy. Just like that. Tactless.
So I bring this up for a few reasons. The cultural differences between here and the US are quite great on a handful of topics—one being pets and the other being death. It is common for a puppy to die here, so no one thinks anything of it when it happens. Dogs are frequently for protection and normally sleep outside. The US is obviously an extreme—people pick up their dog’s poop after them, sometimes put them in ridiculous clothing, give them medical attention that some humans don’t get, and mourn over their death. I cannot explain how many people have offered to give me a new puppy in the past 10 days or so since Nessie died. It is really sweet of them to offer, but I think I’ll wait a while to have a new puppy until I’m back stateside.
The other much more serious death that has taken place in the past few weeks happened while I was in Buenos Aires. I’ve been teaching in one particular class (11th grade) for a few months now. We’ve done a lot of work on sex ed and HIV/AIDS weekly. Apparently two kids from the class (a brother and sister) were leaving school 2 weeks ago and were both hit by a bus. The boy died instantly and the girl has been in a coma ever since. Victor, a teen I work with in that class and in a lot of other groups, told me about the accident, though I don’t hear much about it since it happened a few neighborhoods over. When I talked to him about how his classmates were coping, he said that some were just not going to school anymore and that others were mourning in various ways. I asked about support for the students and family, but he seemed confused. I asked about social workers, psychologists, anything, but he said there was nothing. This is astounding to me. In the US, we’d have grief counseling or at least a guidance counselor to talk to the students, but here there is nothing. The class is doing a bunch of fundraising to help out the parents of the girl who is still in the hospital, but that is the only kind of support Victor could think of. There are a group of psychologists who come on Tuesdays and Wednesdays to the community center in my neighborhood and I’ve invited them to come to help out with the class this week but they still haven’t given me a solid response. When I asked them, they didn’t even understand at first what kind of services I wanted them to offer to the kids for a day. It is that peculiar. Anyway, unfortunately I don’t have any more news on that subject, but am really hoping they’ll be able to help out this week. Otherwise the kids are going to just continue to bury their feelings or avoid dealing with it for now. I’m hoping that once school ends (exams start in 10 days or so) some of them take advantage of the very cheap individual sessions that the psychologists offer; maybe I can figure out a way to have the group drop the charge for this particular group of students. We’ll see…
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Quick Pics of Nessie Being Adorable
This kid, Julian, was just so good with Nessie!
Awww...
Nessie kept biting Julian's ear, which he seemed to love and hate. Hilarious.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
My 12th Birthday 14 Years Too Late & a New Puppy
So this past Sunday was my 26th Birthday. It has been very surprising to me that I've gotten so old, but Sunday in no way, shape, or form reminded me of a typical 26th birthday party. My youth group, which mainly consists of 15 and 16 year olds, came over, as did a bunch of their younger siblings, and my PCV amiga Barbara. The party consisted of me entertaining kids while Barbara cooked popcorn, hotdogs, and a birthday cake. It felt really much less like my own birthday party and more like I was a parent hosting a party for my 12 year old child. It was definitely an enjoyable event--the kids seemed pleased, Happy Birthday was sung in 3 languages (English, Spanish, and Guarani), and I received some rather odd--but sweet--presents. They consisted of: a very old stuffed animal, three little virginal/angelic figures, a 7 inch lighter (from a PCV friend), broccoli (also from a PCV), a bag of store bought cookies, Heart's Greatest Hits (PCV), a little card about friendship glued to a piece of wood, sparkly hair elastics, and an old Snoopy change purse. The fiesta was quite enjoyable but very exhausting.
The day before I saw carpinchos again, which obviously made me incredibly happy. Here are some pics of both carpinchos and the fiesta.
Yesterday it stormed all day, which meant I did absolutely nothing. It was extremely pleasant. Today I ran some errands and then went down to the comedor to see the kids and talk to some of the ladies in charge. One kid invited me to his house to see the 5 week old puppies they have. The kid, Eduardo (13), is quite nice and very shy. His mother is not very shy, and is actually quite pushy. They'd been trying to talk me into taking a puppy home for quite some time. The more I thought about it, the worse of an idea it seemed. I'm going on a vacation next month for a week, my parents come in December, and I leave in just 8 months. I'm not at home very frequently--I spend a lot of time around the community--and don't really have the time or patience to train a dog. My friend got 2 puppies 2 months ago and is now super annoyed at them all the time. All signs pointed to "Don't Get a Puppy", yet as I write this, there is one laying in my lap, fast asleep. Why did I cave? I don't know. I might as well blame that damned birthday party for making me revisit my 12-year-old self who would absolutely never have turned down a puppy.
On that note, this cute little thang is looking for a name. I'm thinking something in Guarani...not sure but will keep you updated, but am definitely open to suggestions.
The day before I saw carpinchos again, which obviously made me incredibly happy. Here are some pics of both carpinchos and the fiesta.
Yesterday it stormed all day, which meant I did absolutely nothing. It was extremely pleasant. Today I ran some errands and then went down to the comedor to see the kids and talk to some of the ladies in charge. One kid invited me to his house to see the 5 week old puppies they have. The kid, Eduardo (13), is quite nice and very shy. His mother is not very shy, and is actually quite pushy. They'd been trying to talk me into taking a puppy home for quite some time. The more I thought about it, the worse of an idea it seemed. I'm going on a vacation next month for a week, my parents come in December, and I leave in just 8 months. I'm not at home very frequently--I spend a lot of time around the community--and don't really have the time or patience to train a dog. My friend got 2 puppies 2 months ago and is now super annoyed at them all the time. All signs pointed to "Don't Get a Puppy", yet as I write this, there is one laying in my lap, fast asleep. Why did I cave? I don't know. I might as well blame that damned birthday party for making me revisit my 12-year-old self who would absolutely never have turned down a puppy.
On that note, this cute little thang is looking for a name. I'm thinking something in Guarani...not sure but will keep you updated, but am definitely open to suggestions.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Lions, Tigers, and Chicken Feathers, Oh My!
Just a quick note: Went to Emboscada, Paraguay, which is a small town about 20 minutes north of where I live. There is a large Afro-Paraguayan community there, which is really uncommon for Paraguay. The story is that the Afro-Paraguayan community would dress up like this (see super sweet photo) and then attack the violent indigenous groups. Anyway, once a year they celebrate. I was lucky enough to attend.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
God as Videographer, Breaking into my Own House, and the Origin of Sex
Oh so much to catch you (my many faithful readers) up on! Where to begin? How my language has deteriorated? How I lost my life? How I was called a liar by one of the señoras I’m closest to? How I think I need to do something about my love of karaoke in Paraguay? How God is apparently really technologically advanced? OK, here we go. I’ll try to do this chronologically.
I went in to help teach the trainees how to teach English a few weeks ago. I showed them Monkey-Fire, which is a game I love! You say “monkey” and the kids run in one direction; if you say “fire” they go in the other. In between you say different animals and the kids at them out. I use drawings of animals with the English name of the animal underneath. When the kids get good at remembering animal names in English, you just say the words without the cards. Some of my drawings are much nicer than others, and I explained that I copied some from some temporary tattoos I use for prizes, but the other ones “I draw out of my mind.” I knew immediately that was not said correctly but could simply not think of the right way to say it. My old trainer cracked up…maybe since I still ridicule him for the time he asked, “What do you call bread that has already been sliced?” Umm…sliced bread? (Guess which I copied from a temporary tattoo.)
How I lost my life? I was biking to do a HIV/AIDS talk in a high school. My tote bag (with my phone, 20.000Guaranis ($4), my planner, my house key, my bike key, and a bunch of other stuff inside) was tied to the back rack. I figured out it was gone too late. When I biked back it was gone. I then spent two hours going door to door explaining what had happened, going to the local police station, asking my neighbors to keep an eye on my house. It was annoying. To deal with this annoyance and avoid having to take the locks off my door I went to another PCV’s house for the evening. Luckily my wallet was in my house so I just had a neighbor boy climb through one of my many broken windows to get it. That was quite a production—my teenage neighbor girls tried to climb in, and then tried to get their cousin to climb through. We literally picked up like 3 kids to try to shove them through my window. It was absurd. The next day, my neighbors got the locks off by taking what looked to me like a big crab mallet and bashing them off. They tried sawing the locks off but it was taking too long. I found it fairly disconcerting just how easy it was to break into my house… (Luckily, though, if I’m inside I have what can only be described as dungeon locks that I use. So no one, other than a very small child with an exceptionally small head, could come in undetected while I’m home. I think I could probably take said child.) I waited in the PC office for 6 hours the next day to get a different cell phone. I guess all’s well that ends well. Several things that make me feel better about the situation: 1) my wallet/passport/bank card wasn’t in there; 2) a whole neighborhood now knows who I am and what I do here thanks to my door-to-door visits; 3) whoever found my bag now has an absurd amount of info about HIV/AIDS so hopefully learns something; and 4) I got out of dressing up like a clown for the fourth time in four days.
A clown? Why in the world would you want to stand out more in Paraguay? Answers: Yes and I didn’t. The problem? My old host mom, Mimi (who is phenomenal!) asked me to dress like a clown for the church’s celebration of Día del Niño (Kids’ Day). I was such a hit (obvi) that I was then asked to do repeat performances for 3 other Día del Niño fiestas. For the one at the school I was given a microphone and led songs with the entire elementary school. Ten days have now passed and I’m still being called Payasa (clown). On my walk home from one of these events 5 different people (3 of whom I didn’t know) stopped me to ask if they could take my picture.
I’m a liar…or apparently that is what like 20 people think. I had my one year visit with my PC bosses. We went all over my neighborhood talking to people I work with. One lady told my boss that I’m part of the family, but that I’m a liar. This goes back to the library project. I had originally wanted to do a library/comedor project in the 3rd phase of my neighborhood. Unfortunately I’m not doing it anymore for a few main reasons: 1) I was given BOGUS estimates in which people very clearly (and repeatedly) tried to take advantage of me; 2) the women’s commission has fallen apart nearly completely; 3) there was no support from anyone/any group; and 4) with construction and the lack of enthusiasm, we simply do not have time to build all this in the 8 months I have left in site. Anyway, so in the community center there is a room where we can put a library pretty easily, and without construction costs/timelines. The problem: it is in a different part of my neighborhood and people apparently felt like I’ve abandoned them, taken sides, and think I never actually intended to do the library in the 3rd phase. I’m just happy that this one lady told me. The joys of this passive culture is that I had no idea that this was happening since people were acting the same with me like nothing had happened. Che Dios!
Karaoke? I simply do not have the voice to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart. I need to remember this. It doesn’t help that the kids (and teens) at the comedor constantly ask me to sing the Titanic song and tell me how nice my voice is, when in reality they’re just psyched to hear it in English.
God is technologically advanced? That’s right. You heard it here first. The other day I was at the comedor and started talking to this lady I don’t know well. She is the mother of some of the kids who eat there, but doesn’t really participate in activities normally. Anyway, the other day she was talking to me about heaven and Hell, and asked if I believe in Hell. I said, “Yes, of course!” and she told me that on my judgment day, I couldn’t claim to God that I hadn’t been told about heaven and Hell because she was telling me now, and He videotapes everything. Yes, she repeated, He videotapes everything…and has everything completely computerized up there. I struggled to keep a straight face as I pictured God with a big old video-camera with just VHS tapes.
Sex Ed Questions! So, as always, I’m doing sex-ed classes. My favorite question of last week was a double question: “Who invented sex? For what reason was sex invented?” How do I even begin to answer that??
I went in to help teach the trainees how to teach English a few weeks ago. I showed them Monkey-Fire, which is a game I love! You say “monkey” and the kids run in one direction; if you say “fire” they go in the other. In between you say different animals and the kids at them out. I use drawings of animals with the English name of the animal underneath. When the kids get good at remembering animal names in English, you just say the words without the cards. Some of my drawings are much nicer than others, and I explained that I copied some from some temporary tattoos I use for prizes, but the other ones “I draw out of my mind.” I knew immediately that was not said correctly but could simply not think of the right way to say it. My old trainer cracked up…maybe since I still ridicule him for the time he asked, “What do you call bread that has already been sliced?” Umm…sliced bread? (Guess which I copied from a temporary tattoo.)
How I lost my life? I was biking to do a HIV/AIDS talk in a high school. My tote bag (with my phone, 20.000Guaranis ($4), my planner, my house key, my bike key, and a bunch of other stuff inside) was tied to the back rack. I figured out it was gone too late. When I biked back it was gone. I then spent two hours going door to door explaining what had happened, going to the local police station, asking my neighbors to keep an eye on my house. It was annoying. To deal with this annoyance and avoid having to take the locks off my door I went to another PCV’s house for the evening. Luckily my wallet was in my house so I just had a neighbor boy climb through one of my many broken windows to get it. That was quite a production—my teenage neighbor girls tried to climb in, and then tried to get their cousin to climb through. We literally picked up like 3 kids to try to shove them through my window. It was absurd. The next day, my neighbors got the locks off by taking what looked to me like a big crab mallet and bashing them off. They tried sawing the locks off but it was taking too long. I found it fairly disconcerting just how easy it was to break into my house… (Luckily, though, if I’m inside I have what can only be described as dungeon locks that I use. So no one, other than a very small child with an exceptionally small head, could come in undetected while I’m home. I think I could probably take said child.) I waited in the PC office for 6 hours the next day to get a different cell phone. I guess all’s well that ends well. Several things that make me feel better about the situation: 1) my wallet/passport/bank card wasn’t in there; 2) a whole neighborhood now knows who I am and what I do here thanks to my door-to-door visits; 3) whoever found my bag now has an absurd amount of info about HIV/AIDS so hopefully learns something; and 4) I got out of dressing up like a clown for the fourth time in four days.
A clown? Why in the world would you want to stand out more in Paraguay? Answers: Yes and I didn’t. The problem? My old host mom, Mimi (who is phenomenal!) asked me to dress like a clown for the church’s celebration of Día del Niño (Kids’ Day). I was such a hit (obvi) that I was then asked to do repeat performances for 3 other Día del Niño fiestas. For the one at the school I was given a microphone and led songs with the entire elementary school. Ten days have now passed and I’m still being called Payasa (clown). On my walk home from one of these events 5 different people (3 of whom I didn’t know) stopped me to ask if they could take my picture.
I’m a liar…or apparently that is what like 20 people think. I had my one year visit with my PC bosses. We went all over my neighborhood talking to people I work with. One lady told my boss that I’m part of the family, but that I’m a liar. This goes back to the library project. I had originally wanted to do a library/comedor project in the 3rd phase of my neighborhood. Unfortunately I’m not doing it anymore for a few main reasons: 1) I was given BOGUS estimates in which people very clearly (and repeatedly) tried to take advantage of me; 2) the women’s commission has fallen apart nearly completely; 3) there was no support from anyone/any group; and 4) with construction and the lack of enthusiasm, we simply do not have time to build all this in the 8 months I have left in site. Anyway, so in the community center there is a room where we can put a library pretty easily, and without construction costs/timelines. The problem: it is in a different part of my neighborhood and people apparently felt like I’ve abandoned them, taken sides, and think I never actually intended to do the library in the 3rd phase. I’m just happy that this one lady told me. The joys of this passive culture is that I had no idea that this was happening since people were acting the same with me like nothing had happened. Che Dios!
Karaoke? I simply do not have the voice to sing Total Eclipse of the Heart. I need to remember this. It doesn’t help that the kids (and teens) at the comedor constantly ask me to sing the Titanic song and tell me how nice my voice is, when in reality they’re just psyched to hear it in English.
God is technologically advanced? That’s right. You heard it here first. The other day I was at the comedor and started talking to this lady I don’t know well. She is the mother of some of the kids who eat there, but doesn’t really participate in activities normally. Anyway, the other day she was talking to me about heaven and Hell, and asked if I believe in Hell. I said, “Yes, of course!” and she told me that on my judgment day, I couldn’t claim to God that I hadn’t been told about heaven and Hell because she was telling me now, and He videotapes everything. Yes, she repeated, He videotapes everything…and has everything completely computerized up there. I struggled to keep a straight face as I pictured God with a big old video-camera with just VHS tapes.
Sex Ed Questions! So, as always, I’m doing sex-ed classes. My favorite question of last week was a double question: “Who invented sex? For what reason was sex invented?” How do I even begin to answer that??
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Ranting and Raving.
OK, so as I've mentioned, there is a ton of drama at the comedor within the women's group. It has gotten ridiculous. Tuesday night there was a meeting with the women's group and the neighborhood commission. All of the ladies were complaining about one woman who, of course, wasn't there. They were just plain bitching about her. Petty nonsense. This lady can definitely be a bit crazy at times, but so can a LOT of the other ladies AND she has done a great deal of work on the comedor and with a pharmacy in my neighborhood. Finally, someone asked me what I thought. I had been sitting there silently gawking the entire meeting up to this point. And then I let it go. Paraguay is a very tranquilo, indirect, gossipy culture. I went on a rant about how the problem isn't this one particular lady, but the fact that no one can talk openly and directly to other people in the comedor, that they'd rather gossip than actually try to work together, that they see no problem bitching about or fighting with each other in front of the 60 kids that we serve. I said my biggest frustration was the inability to act like adults and keep the goal (feeding all those kids) in mind. One woman tried to say that I was just saying this because I was on the side of the other woman, completely ignoring my comments. She also said, "You practically have your college degree", and I interrupted, pointing out that I do not "practically" have it--I do. So now this lady is pissed at me. Fine. I think she's a bit crazy and more of the problem than anyone else. But THEN today the first lady who was singled out (and not at this meeting) called me into her pharmacy, began to cry, and asked why I hadn't said anything to defend her. I honestly don't even know how to deal with this situation. Both sides think I'm on the opposite side simply because I refuse to pick sides in their bullshit argument in which both parties are WAY off base. It is driving me insane. In-effing-sane.
Anyway, that is really all I have to report. I've been enjoying my time with kids a great deal this week, doing a bunch of reading projects, playing a lot of Uno, throwing the frisbee around, thinking about getting a puppy, and trying to figure out where to put this library since there is no possible way it'll work out with this women's group or the neighborhood commission in that part of my site. Goodness.
Anyway, that is really all I have to report. I've been enjoying my time with kids a great deal this week, doing a bunch of reading projects, playing a lot of Uno, throwing the frisbee around, thinking about getting a puppy, and trying to figure out where to put this library since there is no possible way it'll work out with this women's group or the neighborhood commission in that part of my site. Goodness.
El Rio
Aug. 4, 2010
Sunday morning I woke up early and went to the grocery store to buy myself a single burner electric stove. After a week without gas, warm baths or coffee and with no end to this gas crisis in site I decided it was time to take action. I went to a Friendship Day lunch at this lady from the comedor’s house where my boxer was. I couldn’t avoid this event, unfortunately, so I spent 3 hours eating sausage, meat, rice, and sopa Paraguaya (the cornbread dish that I love love love). The boxer is super nice but I can’t help but shake the feeling that even if I was a total bitch/psycho/dullard he would still be interested in me just for my blondness/tallness/Americana-ness. He did give me a box of chocolates for Friend Day (which was on Friday), which I appreciated and enjoyed.
But I was ready to get the hell out of Dodge, or, umm, Villa Madrid. For months now, I have been talking with a PC friend who lives on the other side of Rio Paraguay about meeting up on a boat and just floating/anchoring/chilling, but we hadn’t gotten our shit together to make it happen. He lives 5 miles from me as the crow flies but it is an hour plus bus ride to cross the bridge. So I walked to the other main road through Limpio and hopped on a bus down to the river. It had gotten a bit late (and cold) so I figured just getting dropped off, hanging out with my friend, and then getting picked up a few hours later would be best. I asked a few guys with boats but they were uninterested. Finally one suggested I ask the river police. The water cop (I like the sound of that) said I just had to pay for gas for his row boat’s small motor so away we went. I got to Villa Hayes slightly cold and wet, had a few beers, and then called Jorge to come pick me up. I was slightly nervous about how much he would charge me, though Paraguayans tend not to try to rip you off, so I explained that I was really hoping that when it got hot again I could float around on the river regularly with PC amigos.
We got back to the station and he asked if I wanted wine and Coke. Note: If asked, the answer should always be “Yes” to this. I had the most pleasant conversation with this water cop, chatting about his toddler son, Paraguayan and US stereotypes and cultural differences, and the many trips I will be planning on the river. He ended up not charging me for the boat ride (or wine and Coke) and had a younger river cop assistant walk me to my bus stop. It was, in short, the most pleasant day I’ve had in some time. I can’t wait for the weather to heat up so I can have little flotilla fiestas with amigos!
Sunday morning I woke up early and went to the grocery store to buy myself a single burner electric stove. After a week without gas, warm baths or coffee and with no end to this gas crisis in site I decided it was time to take action. I went to a Friendship Day lunch at this lady from the comedor’s house where my boxer was. I couldn’t avoid this event, unfortunately, so I spent 3 hours eating sausage, meat, rice, and sopa Paraguaya (the cornbread dish that I love love love). The boxer is super nice but I can’t help but shake the feeling that even if I was a total bitch/psycho/dullard he would still be interested in me just for my blondness/tallness/Americana-ness. He did give me a box of chocolates for Friend Day (which was on Friday), which I appreciated and enjoyed.
But I was ready to get the hell out of Dodge, or, umm, Villa Madrid. For months now, I have been talking with a PC friend who lives on the other side of Rio Paraguay about meeting up on a boat and just floating/anchoring/chilling, but we hadn’t gotten our shit together to make it happen. He lives 5 miles from me as the crow flies but it is an hour plus bus ride to cross the bridge. So I walked to the other main road through Limpio and hopped on a bus down to the river. It had gotten a bit late (and cold) so I figured just getting dropped off, hanging out with my friend, and then getting picked up a few hours later would be best. I asked a few guys with boats but they were uninterested. Finally one suggested I ask the river police. The water cop (I like the sound of that) said I just had to pay for gas for his row boat’s small motor so away we went. I got to Villa Hayes slightly cold and wet, had a few beers, and then called Jorge to come pick me up. I was slightly nervous about how much he would charge me, though Paraguayans tend not to try to rip you off, so I explained that I was really hoping that when it got hot again I could float around on the river regularly with PC amigos.
We got back to the station and he asked if I wanted wine and Coke. Note: If asked, the answer should always be “Yes” to this. I had the most pleasant conversation with this water cop, chatting about his toddler son, Paraguayan and US stereotypes and cultural differences, and the many trips I will be planning on the river. He ended up not charging me for the boat ride (or wine and Coke) and had a younger river cop assistant walk me to my bus stop. It was, in short, the most pleasant day I’ve had in some time. I can’t wait for the weather to heat up so I can have little flotilla fiestas with amigos!
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
Without Gas and Tricked into Dating
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.
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A quick note on Paraguay, the World Cup, and me
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!!
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!!
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