En Mi Bolsa Internacional

It has been exactly one year now since I formally quit my job to become a Peace Corps Volunteer. To help out those that are currently packing for their own personal adventure- here's my packing list and some suggestions looking back after a year's worth of service.

Equipment
Large Suit Case
Backpack (medium sized & backpacking)
Large and Small Purse
Sleeping Bag
Travel Pillow
Queen Sheets/Pillow case
Plastic Bags/Space Bags (travel not vacuum seal)

Duct Tape

Clothes
Pants/Jeans

Shorts- cargo/exercise
Shirts
Thermals
Camis/Tank tops
Sweaters
Underwear (15)/Bras (10)
Socks (15+)- cotton and wool
Shoes- waterproof boots, sandals, flipflops, dress shoes, dark color sneakers
Business Casual Wear
Dress
Coat- medium and large, waterproof if possible

Hat/Gloves/Scarf
Bandanas x2
Swimsuit

PJs (conservative)

Toiletries
Contacts/Liquid
Glasses (2 pairs)

Sun Glasses
Towel/Washcloth
Shampoo/Conditioner
Soap
Razors
Shave Gel
Gel
Hairbrush
Toothbrush/Paste/Floss
Deodorant
Qtips
Tampons/Pads
Make-up
Hand Sanitizer
Baby wipes
Tweezers/Nail Clippers/Nail File

Electronics

Camera
Ipod
Speakers
USB Flash Drive
External Hard-drive
Travel Alarm Clock- battery operated & small
Computer/Charger
Power Adaptors
Batteries
Flashlight


Documents
Money Belt
Passport/Visa
ATM Card/Credit Cards
International Insurance Card
Voter Registration Card (to vote overseas- ask for absentee ballot)
Peace Corps Folder & Paperwork
Copy of all prescriptions, passport, visa, vaccinations, power of attorney, etc.
Folder of important phone #s, travel docs, tickets
Wallet w/ID
Foreign and US Currency
Checkbook (to pay taxes)

Personal
Medications (Vitamins, Allergy Meds, Ibuprofen, Tums/GasX)
Mini First Aid Kit
Water Bottle/Thermos
Swiss Army Knife with Scissors/Bottle Opener/Cork Screw
Sunscreen
Lip Balm/Carmex
Lotion
Bug Spray with DEET
Sewing Kit
Permanent Markers
Journal
Gifts for Host Family/Friends/Colleagues
Photos of Family/Friends
Favorite Foods/Spices
Books
Games for Travel/Cards

Some suggestions:
1) Not all of this will fit. I suggest cutting back on clothing items as they are actually pretty cheap here. That said, they aren't great quality. So, what you do bring should be quality so that it lasts your service.

2) Things that ended up being important which may not have seemed so originally include travel pillow (great for long bus rides), thermals (it's not that cold, but you have no escape from it even in your bed at night), dark colored shoes (Paraguayan's judge highly one's appearance- the "lindo factor"- so you need shoes that don't get dirty looking too quickly or you'll always have your shoes in a bucket), tampons/shave gel (not really sold here), hand sanitizer (when you find a bathroom with soap, please call me), batteries (US batteries can't be beat), sewing kit (when your clothes are washed by hand and then hung to dry on barbed-wire this becomes really necessary), permanent markers (not available and really useful sometimes), spices (unknown uses in many households).

3) Things that ended up not being so important include books (there is a huge library here, no need to haul your own- don’t bother with dictionaries as you’ll get one here), most toiletries (heavy to bring down and mostly all available here anyway), medications/first aid kit (you get them ALL upon arrival so really only bring what you need prescriptions for), bug spray (also given to you here).

4) If I had to pack again, this time I would have brought more shorts, a heavy wool sweater, hair ties, Spanish kids books (if any), beach ball & frisbee, non-stick frying pan, chocolate chips.

5) If you are a CED volunteer- BRING YOUR COMPUTER!!! I know they say over and over that you should consider leaving it at home, but virtually all CED volunteers rely heavily on computer usage in their work. Part of our sector is computer training, for example. Plus, excel spreadsheets and internet are invaluable when your organization and networking skills are called upon. Those that did not bring them originally have either bought or had them shipped, so think again.

Una Semana en la Vida

It’s been a while since I’ve given an example of typical life as a Peace Corps Volunteer. This time, to mix it up a bit, I’d like to talk a bit about my past week- which has been a whirlwind of activity mixed with fiesta, siesta, and descansa.

Sunday started off the week well with a restful morning during which my weekly youth group meeting was cancelled due to “Día del Trabajador” (Day of the Worker), as such there were several parties throughout the town. Being that many of my youth are part-time employed, many were out and about eating asado. Meanwhile, I caught up with friends and family on Skype from the convenience of my newly purchased sofa (as internet is one of the perks of service in Latin America- if you like to see globalization in this way as a perk- but I’m not getting on that soapbox today). That afternoon, it was off to Barrio Santo Domingo to kick off their neighborhood Fiesta Patronal with a hot chocolate party for the kids at the local chapel. About 50+ kids showed up and we went through two huge pots of hot chocolate and several cakes. Yum! My job? To be there for moral support, take pictures, and try to help with any last minute decision-making (like moving indoors when it started to sprinkle). Upon my return home, it was time to make up a big vat of guacamole for my birthday party. Yep- I am now 25 years old- half a century already speeding by. Guacamole has become my signature potluck dish ever since my avocado tree came into season. Avocados are typically eaten with milk and sugar in Paraguay, so this salty Mexican party dip is out of the ordinary but highly enjoyed if one can get past the virtual disgust at thinking a fruit can be eaten with salt, pepper, onion, tomato, lime, and cilantro. “Guacala!” they say- translation “Ew! Gross!” However, most everyone so far has changed his/her mind after the first homemade chip. Thus the choice party dish for the evening. By around 7pm, my friends and neighbors started to filter in. We played a bit of UNO, drank red wine mixed with coke, and chatted about everything from underwear to the cycle of poverty. Happy birthday was chorused in three languages (Spanish, Guarani, and yes… I did sing my own version in English which got a good laugh), the candles were blown-out, wishes were made. What was the night before a rather sad tribute to 25 years now felt just right. It’s wonderful to have such great friends and neighbors to remind me. By midnight my friend/coworker and I had cleaned everything up and went to sleep for an early start the next morning.

4am and the alarm sounds for our early Monday start. Today, I am bringing the secretary of our new soup kitchen to a 3-day workshop on project planning and management. She does not live in my town, rather in a compania just outside the pueblo limits- thus the spending the night. We feed the cat, pack up our mate/thermo, and start the walk to the terminal. It’s freezing outside for the first time this year. We arrive just on time. I call in my trip in to the Whereabouts Line (anytime I leave site I have to call it in to the PC office), and within minutes have fallen asleep for the bumpy ride. About 2 hours late I wake up to a completely packed bus, several young men are hovering in the aisle and leaning on the backs of the seats. Claustrophobia has never been a problem for me, but this sardine-like situation can get you feeling pretty darn cramped. I pull up my hood on my winter jacket (it’s still freezing especially since some of the windows won’t close) and pretend I never woke up. “We’ll get to the pavement soon,” I hope. Finally, we reach the world of asphalt and development and the bus clears a bit- with breathing room and a smooth ride, my contact and I decide to eat some chipa for breakfast and enjoy the view. Finally, by 11am we arrive at our destination. A short trip off Ruta 2, and we are at registration. A quick shower, lunch, and the introductions begin.

The workshop focuses on the project cycle of community projects. Step 1: Needs Analysis and Identification. Step 2: Prioritization. Step 3: Planning. Step 4: Execution and Monitoring. Step 5: Evaluation. From there we start all over again. Over the first day we only make it through step one, but we focus heavily on the “why?” behind each project. Frequently in Paraguay, events are started and planned but the “why?” is never asked. So, what are the real needs in our community? My contact and I identify several needs that the Constructores de la Sociedad are attempting to address with our work. First, the need for public debate and community solidarity. Thus the formation of barrio volunteer projects and youth groups. Second, environmental contamination and deforestation. Thus our projects on city clean-up, trashcan installations, and tree planting. Third, poverty. Thus our soup kitchen and attempts to bring the impoverished medical services and capacity building to escape the cycle. By the end of day two, we have worked through prioritization and tried to focus our investigation and project planning on the root of the problems we see. We realize that our work with the soup kitchen is only meeting a superficial need- we need to dig deeper and aim our intervention strategies at the real struggles these families face: lack of work and education. Day three, we start to plan a new intervention strategy focused on inviting parents to the soup kitchen for small capacity building days culminating with a CV writing session. We leave the session pumped- maybe we can actually get this soup kitchen idea off the ground and really making an impact. We listen to stories from contacts and PCVs around the country, and we see that the struggle is not just our own. On the ride home, we start to think of how to present our new findings to our fellow peers. There-in lies the challenge.

I arrive home at 11pm on Wednesday night. My cat is waiting on the doorstep clearly displeased. I perk him up with some food, eat an apple, and crawl into bed. I’m exhausted; it’s not everyday that I wake at 6am and sleep at midnight in my site. The workshop has me excited but drained. I sleep-in Thursday, relax around the house, buy some groceries. I’ve started keeping a meticulous budget of all purchases, as my PC living allowance seems to be cutting it closer every month. I recently learned that every “hot” electrical shower I take costs me 1.000Gs. Great… winter electric bills are going to be high. After a veggie lunch, I put on my smile for an environmental charla (presentation) at a high school in one of the companias. It goes fairly well, although most of the kids have to stand as we don’t have sufficient chairs. We end the 1.5-hour event with a tree-planting lesson. We have donated 250 trees to this high school, one per student. The trees were received from Todos Pulmon Paraguay Respira. Our aim is to plant 4,000 trees by August. With each set, we also try to educate the recipients- why is this important? How can you take care of your trees? Etc. I make it home by 4pm, have a terere chat with a neighborhood contact, and head home to clean-up for the next event. Tonight I have the highlight of the Fiesta Partronal in Barrio Santo Domingo- an artist showcase and bake sale. I hop on my bike and head over to set-up. When I arrive they announce a problem: a larger event has been rescheduled to this evening as well in the plaza. We decide to sell as much food as we can while two of our artists play- they were the only ones left as all of the others were invited to play at the plaza show. We finish our event just in time for the fireworks at the plaza. Riding my bike, I see the glow breaking over the trees. I get to my porch and watch until the last sparks fade into the night.

Friday is another busy day, my first meeting of the day is at 9am with a women’s group from another compania at the municipality. We have the municipality secretary help with any translations as the president only speaks Guarani. The conversation starts well with a request for assistance with sales of their soap products, which I’ve helped them get started. However, things start to turn south quickly when she asks me to purchase her a motorcycle to transport the soap products to other towns. I explain that this is not my function here; I cannot provide such funds. We also talk about the drawbacks to such a proposal in the first place, with a profit margin of only 25.000Gs. for every 10 liters of soap there is no way the women’s group could pay for the gas even if they had a moto. We talk about other options: collaboration with the muni to sell in their farmer’s market, door-to-door sales, requests at local stores to sell alongside other products. She leaves seemingly disappointed, but my contacts at the municipality are relieved; this group has been trying to get a free ride for some time now. Perhaps now they will come back with a better proposal. A few errands and visits around town are my next order of business. I visit with a fellow volunteer from the north purchasing a fridge after 5 months in site, another volunteer recently assigned to my town to work with the schools, and several local contacts just to catch up on the local happenings. That afternoon, I plan the workshop overview charla with my contact to talk about the results of our trip. In the evening, it’s the mass and procession for the Fiesta Patronal in Santo Domingo and then a Constructores meeting. The mass goes well and includes a reading of all the donations from the week- a good practice in transparency that is often lacking. The meeting does not go so well, the head of the Constructores did not unlock the door to our meeting space earlier that day and then arrived over 45 minutes late. There goes the charla plans we had made. Instead we decide to talk about soup kitchen promotions and conclude that we really need to let the public know more about this project. There is no use keeping it out of the public spotlight any longer. I get home at 11pm, eat dinner with a friend, and attempt to sleep soundly.

Given the promotions discussion the day before, I am up at 5am the next day for a 6am radio show to talk about our soup kitchen project. A good group of representatives shows up and we have a lovely chat about all that we are doing and need to do with this project. After an hour of questions and comments, I am off to type-up and print up the new attendance sheet for the soup kitchen kiddos. I have set up a meeting with the María Goretti youth group at 9am to talk about a gardening project the PCVs in my region would like to implement starting in the soup kitchen. Sadly, I can’t get there on time due to endless printing errors, which would be easily fixed if the photocopier shopkeeper knew a little more about excel files. I chastise myself a bit for not yet having taught a computer class- gotta get on that and resolve some of these misunderstandings. Luckily, depending on your view, the youth didn’t show up till 10:30am anyway. So, I had plenty of time to help our cooks learn about cooking with soy. We had a large quantity donated from Asuncion, and I was excited to try it out with the kids. The experiment worked out splendidly, I’m happy to report, as not one of the kids even seemed to notice a difference between this particular pasta dish and one with ground beef. In fact, it went over so well we actually ran out of food. I’ve sent the notice to our donators- we should be using much more soy (high protein, low fat) in the future. J My (albeit late) youth group meeting was also a success; we decided to install a soup kitchen veggie garden in two weeks (if the weather permits of course). From the soup kitchen I hurry over to the Cero (popular Paraguayan team) soccer fields for a pollada (chicken sale) run by several of my contacts. Back at home, I relax, eat, and chat with a fellow PCV via phone about the week. At 3pm, I head out for another youth group meeting. Sadly, after all the excitement of Fiesta Partronal, the kids are too worn out to show-up (or that’s what I tell myself so that I won’t be personally offended). Instead I visit with a neighbor and am gifted some fresh oranges. I head home for one final meeting of the day with my workshop contact to organize all of our donations and volunteer records for an official announcement at a second radio show in the morning. We finish up at 9pm after a visit from some Mormon missionaries (just around to chat in English) and a friend by for dinner. I stay up a little too late dicussing the differences between Paraguayan and American society- my friend enjoys bringing me any song that remotely implies something insulting about Americans. This time, he decided to bring over a song all about McDonalds and Donald Trump. Lovely. It’s a good thing we get along and a pleasure to have someone around to discuss such things with. At the end of the day, we come from pretty different worlds.

My week finally ends. Sunday I have some time off... well, if I don’t get any last-minute phone calls!

Semana Santa y Pascua

Before arriving in Paraguay, I had heard that Christian religious holidays were a big deal. I was beginning to catch on after having now been through virtually a year of Catholic celebrations. However, Holy Week and Easter were really quite unique in my experiences. Aside from having school and work cancelled starting on Wednesday of Holy Week, there are several fun traditions involved with the holiday that I wish to share.

Wednesday and Thursday are all about chipa (cheesy bread made in various shapes and sizes). Families and neighbors get together to cook in the yard in a traditional tatakua (like a pizza brick oven), each with their own recipe and slightly modified version of chipa. From then on, everyone gifts chipa to neighbors and friends… with enough chipa to eat for a week and still have more leftovers. Lunch on Thursday is a large family affair with prayers and special hand-washing practices AFTER eating. Any leftovers are brought to those less fortunate. For once the soup kitchen is obsolete. From then on, fasting begins. Not a “fast” as in not eating, but a fast from meat. Which, in Paraguay, is a pretty big deal. A meal is not complete without meat! So, more chipa it is, and perhaps some beans if the family is not too tired of them yet (this has been the Friday meal for the entire month already). Friday is spent in deep and quiet reflection. Children are not out playing in the streets, the stores are closed, families are bunked-down for the day. I covet the silence as I normally have VERY loud music blasting from the neighbors’ on either side of my house. Saturday, all the stops are pulled for a big asado celebration. We may not have been able to eat meat on Friday, but Saturday makes up for it all (and some). My friends and I enjoy a freshly killed cow, which was actually cooked to a perfect medium-rare for once. I knew this day was special. Sunday, after a larger than normal mass, it’s more toasts and more asado. Easter has arrived!

Juegitos y Ciclos

Peace Corps often talks about the cycles of one’s service, and here we are again. We have now been up and running for four months in my community’s soup kitchen. It has been a real roller-coaster ride, though I have never experienced one so long and bumpy… but with any luck we at moving in the right direction.

It all started, as one may recall, with an unplanned inauguration last December in which we all got together on a Monday and collaborated funds for veggies and meat to feed some of the less fortunate children in the pueblo that very next Wednesday. Despite lack of planning and some serious skepticism on my part, day one (even month one), went off without too much of a hitch. Granted we didn’t have any chairs, lacked sufficient cutlery/plates, and were cooking on a BBQ pit as we don’t even have an oven/stove… but people did get fed.

By the end of the first month, however, things started to get pretty messy. People were angry at each other’s lack of support in time and money to maintain the project, volunteers were running low, and more and more kids kept showing up without the infrastructure to hold them all. It was looking pretty bad. So, we decided to finally get organized by putting together an official commission. It was time for my organization skills to step in. And for about a month- we did good. We raised funds with polladas, got a volunteering schedule, and pedido-ed around town for meat from the local butchers (5 kilos/month each one). We even started going family to family with a census on our client’s education, national identification, living, medical, and religious needs. It seemed to be looking up. However, somewhere in there we lost motivation again… and here we are with an empty pocket-book and little to show for all that hard work.

This particular project is at another low. It’s time to get back on the horse and start riding some burros. This week, pollada number two is to be organized and next week a radio marathon to raise funds. This time around, we are looking at making sustainable choices- buying a freezer to store donated meat whenever the butchers have it to give, building a massive fogón to cook on during the winter, and doing building construction so that the kids have a place to sit when the weather turns. My VAC members too are pitching in to help us plant a veggie garden so that we have all the vitamins we need right out back. All we’ve got to do now is keep it together one more month, then at least we’ll have the basics covered. From there, with any luck, the rest of the path won’t seem so steep and insurmountable (for me and my counterparts!). Perhaps it’ll even be time for a party to celebrate 6 months of operation. Hmmm… not a bad incentive, nobody can scoff at a bocadito/vino night!

Como Hobbits Así Es…

So, as often happens when I get into a series of books, I start to make comparisons between my life situation and that of the fantasy world I’ve entered between the hardback covers. Recently, I’ve been reading the J.R. Tolkien “Lord of the Rings” and the “Hobbit” series; and it’s got me thinking about the similarities between life in Hobbiton and life here in Paraguay.

Lets start on home lifestyle. While Paraguayan’s don’t live burrowed into the ground in wee holes with little round doors, they do kinda burrow into their neighborhoods and identify strongly with their family and heritage closely connected to the lands that have been handed down generation after generation. Along the same lines, Hobbits, like my Paraguayan neighbors rarely if ever enjoy a good “adventure.” I know of only two people in my city that have even been out of the country- and we only live 4 hours form the Argentinean border! In fact, those that do travel or venture to take the path unpaved often are seen as “outsiders” and (as Tolkien may say) “queer.” All that taken into account, Paraguayans are very hospitable. For example, if you ever want a free meal or just to sit around and chat- this is the place to be. Whenever I show up for terere around 10-11am, I am sure to be offered a seat at the table for lunch whether or not there was food sufficient enough to go around. Finally, Hobbits always try to keep the conversation polite, “at your service” they say. Here in the heart of South America the answer is always “YES.” Will you come to my birthday party? Can you be at the meeting at 3pm? Do you like this crazy spicy food I’ve just prepared? “Yes” they say, even when in all of those cases they are really thinking “Ummm… no… you crazy outsider.”

On a perhaps more rico front, it’s easy to draw links between Hobbit’s and indeed Paraguayan’s love for food and everything about it. This is an agricultural society and the people love to work the land. Not for sale, but just to eat. The number of meals one may have in a day is not too different either. I used to think that Paraguayan’s ate very little, but truth is they just eat often. For example, the other day on my way south with a group of Paraguayan friends we actually stopped for what one could call “second breakfast.” Yep- we pulled over on a grassy hill for a wee nibble- chicken sandwiches, cocido, and all. With food of course comes the love of Hobbits’ so-called “pipe-weed.” Now, here in Paraguay, we don’t smoke any sort of weed (ok, look at the world-class black market and you’ve caught me lying) but we do drink lots of a kind of weed we call yerba mate. Indeed, I am referring to Paraguayan’s daily routine of mate in the morning and terere throughout the day. Yes, isn’t it lovely to sit back like a Hobbit/Paraguayan and sip that tasty beverage. Refreshing and relaxing- if only there were colored smoke rings it’d be perfect!

Finally, being all about peace and tranquility here in the Peace Corps- Paraguay is very much like Hobbiton in its tranquilo lifestyle. Hobbits, it is said, at no time had been warlike, and here too we like to be happy, always “bien.” And, as Gandalf comments- even if everything else in the world is dark it’s good to know there’s always a place to come back to where life is still just that simple.

Disclaimer: In case in someone’s view I’ve offended either the world of the Middl-Earth or my home here in Paraguay, none of this is meant to offend- only to explain some of the fineries of my experience in a way that perhaps those that are not with me can understand.

El Seguidor y El Lider

During one of our recent community meetings, the local priest of my small Paraguayan pueblo observed to the Constructores de la Sociedad that in many ways I could easily be taken for a leader in our group. One of my youth similarly stated during the leadership camp last January that I was indeed a leader in town bringing people together on community projects. While flattering, I am not completely convinced that I am such a lider as described. One could call me more accurately a “leader in training,” otherwise known as a “follower.”

We talk a lot about leadership in the Community Economic Development sector of the Peace Corps. Our aim is build leaders. The best leaders it is said are those that when a project is over, the people say, “we did it ourselves.” This theme is further explored in a book I’m currently reading called Follow me to Freedom: Leading and Following as an Ordinary Radical by Shane Claiborne and John M. Perkins. This book has really got me thinking about being a leader, or more accurately a follower in my site. Two key lessons I have so far taken away are that 1) vision (a key ingredient for a strong leader) stems from suffering and injustice, and 2) I’m always still learning to be a leader.

On the first point, there are two types of vision as I see it. There is personal vision, such as goal-setting and individual ambition. This I know quite well. There is also leadership vision, which is about finding a cause that keeps you up at night and drives you to find a solution with the people. It is about identifying the suffering of a people, your people, and leading through it. In Paraguay, I have been lacking motivation as of late. I lack this second kind of vision. When I came here, I expected in many ways to see injustice on every street corner in the form of poverty, corruption, or something I did not yet know that would set my heart afire. Yet this has not been the case so far in my service. Yes there is poverty. Yes there is corruption. Yes there are many things I disagree with in general. But… nobody is crying out or even really complaining. Where is the suffering? Surly, this does exist in Paraguay; I just need to go and find it. Action #1: search out that injustice.

Second, I have a long way to go toward becoming a leader. First things first, I need to learn to follow. Throughout my life I have had many a mentor from professors to coworkers to friends. Here, I need to find that too. Someone that can help me see where I fit into the puzzle and help me to mold myself into a leader for the people. I also need to admit when I am wrong more often. I often make mistakes, we all do- but a key to leadership is not making all the right choices, it is knowing when to say we have messed up and learning from it. On the same thread, I should not get stuck in lamenting the wrongs or feeling guilty about the past… because those very things are what make us stronger in the future. Additionally, as a leader in training it is important to identify the unique skills that I can offer to those around me to help correct injustice. If I know where I am strong and where I am weak, I can find others to work with that compliment my shortcomings and further the cause. Leadership is about teamwork at the end of the day. Finally, energy preservation through rest is vital. I often get worn out due to lack of “days off” (Peace Corps is a 24/7 job they say, and I stand by that as true). If I do not rest I cannot be in it for the long haul, and the causes really worth fighting for are going to be long-term ordeals. Action #2: remember to be a follower.

Leadership is a tricky thing, especially when one is outside her own culture. But here I am. Daily I am asked to be a leader, even presented as one. It’s worthwhile considering about how to do it better.

Vacación Uruguay

For a country I’ve heard very little about and a vacation I’d planned last minute, Uruguay is everything and more than I could have imagined. In fact, my vacation to Uruguay was so wonderful that I can see myself actually living in Montevideo sometime in the future. Note: I do NOT say that about many places.

My vacation started with a 15-hour bus ride from Encarnacion, Paraguay to Montevideo, Uruguay. A large tour bus with seats that sprawled into beds, in transit movies, and a mere five passengers… the minute I started my journey I was already smiling. I got to know everyone on the bus during our first stopover dinner just outside of Posadas, Argentina. Two Uruguayans, one Paraguayan, and an Australian globetrotter were to be the first of my new friends on this trip. We told stories and jokes, shared snacks, and admired the scenery as the sun rose over the grassy plains that comprise the countryside of northern Argentina and Uruguay. By the time we had arrived, Ramon from Punta del Este was taking us out for authentic Uruguayan lager and traditional desserts. Such is the hospitality of these lovely people. My first local bus ride revealed an immediately striking difference between this Latin American country and the one I currently reside in. Development does some amazing things. For one, I actually had a seat on the bus, the ride was smooth over paved roads and with proper suspension, there were real bus tickets printed out after you paid, and there was even a scanner for bus passes! Wow! In Ciudad Vieja, things just got better and better with pedestrian zones cobblestoned with tiny booths and shops scattered about, tree lined boulevards, people of all races and multiple languages going to and fro, traffic laws actually obeyed so that a pedestrian need not race across the street to avoid being run over, trashcans on every street corner…. peaceful, tranquil.

That afternoon I took a nap at my hostel (I highly recommend the El Viajero hostels along the coast- clean, friendly, fun, chill) and upon waking immediately entered into conversation with people from around the world in English, Spanish, and even Portuguese (so similar to Spanish I can actually understand some of it- if it is Brazilian mind you). I’d like to shout-out to some of these truly outstanding people, as they helped me to remember that the world is so very much bigger than my small Paraguayan pueblo. Thank you Colin, Pierre, Cybil, Rui, Andre, Daniel, Manuel, Amy, Rodrigo, and those whose names I don’t remember but were equally awesome!!! After a round of beers, I headed off with a new French friend to dinner and a walk on the rambla (boardwalk) to watch the ocean waves. It was then that an unexpected twist came into my lovely first day. Sitting on the rocks of the shore watching the tide come in and engaged in friendly banter there suddenly came some commotion down the street; ambulances and flashlights appeared along the beach. Not wanting to get in the way, we continued to mind our own business until probably an hour later a body was being carried by. Apparently someone had fallen from the rambla to his death. Now a bit ill at the thought, my new friend and I stood up to leave and were shortly afterward approached by two suspicious-looking fellows on the rambla wall. At first they asked what had happened, kindly advised us that we were in drug-dealing territory, proceeded to offer us a sale (which we refused), and then pointed out the many many large rats indeed scrambling along the beach. Safely back on track to the hostel, I laughed… Welcome to Uruguay!

Luckily, my first evening was the most adventurous of all of my remaining days in Uruguay. From there on in, it was some of the smoothest sailing ever. I met up with a new friend every day in Montevideo to bike the rambla in search of the best seafood and relaxing beaches. We explored a bit of the city and nightlife, had great debates with fellow travelers on everything from the famous fútbol stars to international politics, and slept in every morning. Ahhh… what a vacation should be. Mixed in to it all, I also met up with an old friend from the UK for dinner and to admire/poke fun at the quincinera dresses sported in photo shoots in front of the gorgeous Teatro Solis. As I packed my bags after my five days in the capital, I felt a little remorse leaving what now oddly felt like home. I knew the staff and the guests like old friends and could hardly bear starting over again in a new city.

It was off, however, to Punta del Este to hang out in Uruguay’s largest beach resort town. Tall buildings brightly colored by the night, “Los Dedos” sticking out of the sand into the Atlantic air, and packed beaches was the theme. Once again, I immediately came to meet a bunch of amazing travelers- this time virtually all from Brazil. I got to work on my Portuguese a bit more intensely these days and also learned a lot about Brazilian lifestyle. My roommates, for example, were self-proclaimed Brazilian male strippers (I struggle to believe they were not a little tipsy during our first encounter). Goodness, I just don’t know how they can keep partying without ever seeming to sleep! The first evening, we went to an outdoor Shakira concert and danced in the streets with thousands of fans. The next day it was beach hoping and napping. I even managed to get a swimsuit tan! That night we chilled at the hostel with the southern wind blowing by. This was to be my last night in Uruguay; I slept a bit anxious with thoughts of a long return ahead of me.

As I said, that WAS to be my last night in Uruguay. However, the next day I trudged to Montevideo to find that the only bus back to Paraguay had been canceled due to Carnaval. “Great… so typical,” I thought bitterly. And then after a few emails and an hour of problem-solving I thought… “Great! Now I can go see something new!” So it was off to Colonia that afternoon for an extra and unexpected treat. Colonia is the only Portuguese-founded settlement in Uruguay and was setup as a smuggling town for goods into Buenos Aires just across the river. The old town has been mostly preserved from its former days including the cobblestoned roads, lighthouse, city wall with drawbridge, and the oldest church in the country. A city full of history and beauty. It was here that I spent my real last night in Uruguay watching the sun set over Buenos Aires, drinking a glass of Uruguay’s unique tannat wine, eating the final fresh fish I will likely see in a long while, and enjoying the colonial atmosphere of my hostel. What a perfect way to end a vacation.

My bus ride home the next day was longer than the first at 21 hours, having to go all the way to Asuncion, but was equally enjoyable in many ways. More passengers this round from Israel, Switzerland, Uruguay, Paraguay, and more- I had plenty to talk about and learn. Now, too, I had become good at managing and translating multiple languages and was soon a link for many friendships made that ride. Back at the all-too-familiar terminal in Asuncion, we exchanged numbers and departed.

The lingering impact of my first South American travel adventure: a smile and a global connection. Uruguay- you will be dearly missed, but I will not forget you!