Una Sola Mujer

Hello readers- whoever you are! It has been another long haul since the last time that I wrote. Shortly following my amazing week in Paraguay during which I made my last entry, I came into one of my worse weeks. As always in the Peace Corps, there are life’s ups and downs. Some days are really sunny, others it starts to rain and shuts everything down. Without going too much into the details, all I can say is that being a female volunteer alone in the middle of a mud pit can be really difficult. Sometimes those that appear to offer help and relief have secondary motives that are not so noble. In training, they warn of these challenges. In practice, it is difficult to avoid. So, after a very difficult week and another simply trying to escape the mud and rain (literally… not figuratively although one could also spin it as such), I finally broke the borders of Caazapá and headed to Asuncion.

My first round of VRTs (to be honest I’m not totally sure what that stands for but it’s trimester reporting) was at hand. I remember about 3 months ago I was really clear on what I was doing. I had a list of activities I was working on and a timeline for each one. Things were very organized. When it came to reporting my activities of the last now 6 months, however, things were a bit more difficult. Perhaps it is because so much has happened professionally and personally since those days, perhaps I was just tired after the 10.5 hour bus ride to Asuncion during which the bus blew the same tire three times and then got stuck in the mud, perhaps it was the first take-out food I’d seen in months… either way when I was asked the open-ended question, “So what have you been doing in site these last 6 months?” I struggled to formulate my answer. We talked about the courses I had run in English and micro-business, the comedor comunitario, the family garden group and the challenge of micro-credit defaults in the campo, the many small projects my barrios were tackling across the pueblo, and the completion of my community study. The big picture, if you can really call it that, is that even in this short amount of time during what most people refer to as the “slow” point of their service: I’ve done a whole lot. And, perhaps more striking: I need a vacation.

So, this weekend, I am attempting to head back to site only to pack my bags for a new kind of adventure. I’m waylaid in a town 2.5 hours south waiting for the rain to stop long enough to let a bus through. So for now, simply Dreaming of Uruguay…. 

Despierta

Goodness- where have I gotten off to as of late? Right?

Well, you'll be happy to know that I've finally woken up. I cannot really tell you what happened to my inspiration these last few weeks, but the lights have returned and my clear blue eyes see once again why I am here and the path that I've embarked upon.

This week has been absolutely wonderful in both an eye-opening and returning to one's roots kinda way. The heat has diminished slightly with virtually non-stop rainfall, and somewhere between the clouds I have remembered that I am led by a vision- one that I do not always see clearly but that guides the hand of serendipity in my encounters. Through ongoing conversations and passing events, I have come to realize that Paraguay is exactly where I am to be right now. It is here that I am recovering and rediscovering my motivation to follow the winding and rocky path that I've chosen in international development/conflict resolution. Sitting in my small Paraguayan house, tending my veggie garden and my brand new 16 baby chicks, my worlds (the developed and developing) are colliding in new and magnificent ways each day. From realizing why it is that I am drawn abroad, to how one recovers from past mistakes, to where the signs are pointing in my professional career... this is what it is all about. They say that Peace Corps is as much a benefit to those in one's host community as it is to the individual herself. And it is to this effect that I wish to tribute today.

Before coming to Paraguay, I watched a small video clip made by former Peace Corps Volunteers. The line that stuck with me the most was "Living with latrines is not a hard thing to do. Living without running water is not a hard thing to do. You get over it. Living with another culture is kinda hard, but you get over it and you will make friends. Living with yourself for two years... is the hardest thing you can possibly do." Following swear-in as a volunteer in Asuncion, not yet aware of what might lie ahead in my site down south, the words resonated strongly. Can I live with myself for two years? Up until recently, I kept myself busy enough to avoid answering this question. Hardly a spare moment to reflect on a grand scale this unique experience, I thought perhaps all my pondering on this question was not particularly relevant. However, after taking on the "carne challenge" (see blog entry December 18, 2010), my many activities came to a rather precarious halt. Wobbling on the edge of a personal hurdle, I finally sat staring that question clear in the face. Can I live with myself, my faults, my quirks, my successes, my temper, my enthusiasm? And the answer is unequivocally: YES. And in fact, given this wonderful opportunity to stop for a second the daily grind so strongly drilled upon in the so-called "developed world," I find I cannot only LIVE with myself- I can GROW with myself.

This week, I have certainly done many things in my community: meetings, soup kitchen, terere, etc. More importantly, however...
I took the time to read. Nothing special really, but I finally finished the Harry Potter series as I've been wanting to for so many years.
I took the time to write. In my journal and now here on my blog.
I took the time to study. Completing an economic study of my city and reading through the details of uranium mining and conflict prevention in the face of globalization to be highly relevant in my site this upcoming year.
I took the time to sing. In fact, this week I sang, practiced guitar, and even wrote my first all-Spanish ballad.
I took the time to cook. The whole town is now out for my homemade Mexican tortillas, fajitas, tacos, and guacamole (made from my very own avocado tree) after I made lunch for several friends and families throughout the week.
I took the time to talk it out. Chatting with friends from Guatemala to the UK, to Germany, to New Zealand, to the US, to right here in my backyard.
I took the time to imagine. To consider what it is that I will really do after Peace Corps- where the road may lead next and how to prepare.

So often, we speed through life. I for one, haven't stopped long enough to breath, much less really consider this glorious life we've been granted. Given my past, you'd think that I had thought it all out- the bold choices to skirt from one side of the globe to the other. Yet I shamefully must admit, in all that searching for heaven-knows-what... I am discovering more by looking within than out.

Peace Corps is not for everyone. The tired body and idle mind can very much wear on the soul. But, as a friend out of prison once told me, "you can let the time do you, or you can do the time." To those of you embarking on this or a similar difficult journey- don't let time take over. Despite a considerable drop in my scheduled activities these last weeks, I find myself waking up earlier each day, hitting the pillow even later- not due to depression or anxiety... but pure excitement. What will I do today!?!

Liderazgo de los Jovenes

Dusk is falling at Itaipu as we are waiting in front of the buses that will take our group of 70 Paraguayan youth on a tour of the world's largest operational dam and generator of electricity for both Brazil and Paraguay- a feat of modern science and engineering. But this is not what is on display tonight, nor the most astonishing of what we will see. A flamboyant joven (youth) pulls out his portable boom-box as we wait, energy from our four day leadership camp has reached a boiling point. Suddenly, without planning or warning the jovenes start to chant, then dance, then scream... we have an instant flashmob. Lady Gaga breaks in and the parking lot becomes a spectacle of youth power, energy, and excitement. A crowd forms around our jovenes all dressed in teal t-shirts as the group forms a chair-less couch-sit. The dancing continues, the chants get louder, other jovenes unassociated with the group begin to join in. The driver arrives and just as suddenly as it all began, it all comes to a stop. The jovenes file onto the buses, the tour begins, ends. We return to camp, youth mobilization and the demonstration of all that youth can bring to this country has only just begun.

This last week I brought four youth from my small southern pueblo to Tati Yupi outside of Ciudad del Este to a Peace Corps sponsored and volunteer coordinated leadership camp: Campamento Ñande Haé Tenonderá. At camp they learned about what makes a leader, self-esteem, communication, teamwork, human rights, social justice, and project planning. Their charge over the next six months is to complete a project in their home towns, mobilizing other youth to become active in their communities and the development of Paraguay. When we return this winter, they will become the teachers- and us the observers. They will tell us how they have made the change they want to see in this world, and with a little perseverance they will see it through to the end. It gives me hope to see these motivated youth- tonight they are dancing, tomorrow they are the world's leaders.

Feliz Navidad

Christmas in Paraguay is most definitely unlike any other Christmas I've ever experienced- and to be fair, this is not my first merry-go-round.

I headed back to my training site near Asuncion for a special Christmas with the host fam. I arrived on the 23rd and immediately was invited to a neighborhood party. After several hours of chat, music, and Brahma I went home feeling happy to be back 'home' for the holidays. Even more excited when I officially became a novia. :-) They say Christmas is the time of year for that sort of thing, and they would be right.

By the 24th, the day Christmas is celebrated in Paraguay, we were full of Christmas cheer. I helped construct a pesebre (manger... you know with all the animals and a little Jesus inside) out of tree limbs and freshly dug-up grass, which was my first of the Paraguayan traditions to learn. Then it was out to the back yard to kill some chickens and stoke up the brick oven. Round one of sopa paraguaya (cheesy corn bread) was out a little after noon. From there, it was off to visit several families around town. Five families through, I had so much sopa my stomach just couldn't take it, clorico (sangria with oj and tropical fruits) to the point of drowning, and new resolve in starting a New Year's diet. I had also been invited to several Christmas dinners at the stroke of mid-night. Nobody starves in Paraguay this night. Finally, I got into several close calls with an ungodly number of firework fights... why people let their children play with bombas I will never understand. Even after the mid-night city-sponsored firework show, the smoke of the city hung in the air for several hours. At about 10pm (although the tradition is typically withheld till mid-night), we opened presents at my family's house. Everyone got at least one, but certainly not the stockpile often exhibited during this season in the States. Mostly because the Day of Kings is in January and made for just such gift-giving to children. So, I received a lovely shirt from Argentina and a hair clip- yes! A big BBQ ensued directly after- the enormous meal to call in the festivities.

From mid-night on throughout the 25th, it was dancing and parties throughout Paraguay. My friends and I jumped from house to house, dancing, music, drinks, and of course more sopa. They even opened up a swimming pool at the local discoteca, so we could all experience another kind of sopa... the human soup that is beer, sweat, and lord knows what other disgusting liquids. I did NOT get in. Instead, I took refuge at nearby, hidden lake where I happily swam in the natural good ole' outdoors. The boys took the challenge of fishing, which did not work out as planned so us ladies had to make do with carne instead of pescado for dinner. Que lastima!

All in all, the best Christmas I could have ever asked for and a nice Skype chat with my family in the States to complete the package. Could you ask for more?

Pero... le gusta carne

We have all heard the fish analogy- give a man a fish, he'll eat for a day; teach a man to fish, he'll eat for a lifetime. Since I've joined the Peace Corps, I have heard that phrase time and time again. We are talking here about the sustainability of projects that are started by volunteers, and while I totally relate on the one hand... there is something missing to this lovely metaphor on the other. I live in Paraguay. It is a landlocked country. While we do have rivers, not all that many people actually eat fish. The truth is- Paraguayans like carne (meat), and no matter how many times I teach people to fish they'll never use the knowledge because at the end of the day what they really want is a charred steak straight off the asado (BBQ).

Silly as it may sound phrasing my situation as such, I feel deeply entrenched in a personal dilemma. Thus far in Paraguay, I've spent a lot of time focusing on Peace Corps' teaching how to fish- Construye tus Sueños, Juegos de Ingles, Hora de Cuento- but that is not at all what is going to last when I leave site in 2 years. No, not even remotely. I'll bet everyone will forget I ever even did any of that. Why? Because the people want carne, and that's what we need to be focusing on. It may not be on my list of indicators or take precedence in my PC project plan outlined by who knows who, who knows where, but that is what will last.

This week I finished up many of my first projects in site. Most prominently, I finished up pretty much all of my taught courses. And here's where I've decided to stop teaching these packaged capacitation programs. Indeed, they keep my mind busy, but they just don't go the distance for my community. From now on, I focus on the carne versus the fish. When the people want it, and we work together to get there... that's when we see the real results.

Watch out cows! We're taking this countryside by slaughter.

Che Roga

After weeks and months of searching, I've finally located and moved into my own house!!! The additional freedom and privacy are very much appreciated. I find I even sleep better knowing that nobody can watch me behind my closed doors. I know... sounds a bit odd that people might ever be watching me, but you'd be surprised. People here know what time I get up, what I ate for breakfast, and even the exact moment/where I get wobbly on my bike going around town. Yup, they say Peace Corps is a 24 hour job, and it is sooo true. I get daily reports on my actions from my neighbors and friends- "Who was that guy you were with (that one time when someone said hello)?" "I saw you wearing your helmet in front of the grocery store today (yes, I do need to eat and I do wear a helmet)." "Your pants looked a bit dirty the other day (after painting my table in the sun all day)." You get the idea, having a place to call my own and more importantly a place to hide from time to time is really really nice.

So- the details then! My PC crib has 4 primary rooms which I have turned into- bedroom, living room, kitchen, and dining room. It also has an semi-enclosed patio in back and a modern bathroom! Whoa- que chuchi, no? The whole place has been recently remodeled, so it's super lindo. For example, my walls have all been re-cemented (we don't really have plaster here, so cement is used to cover up the brick building materials, kinda like adobe but grey), I have a brand new concrete patio for a front yard, I've got a really nice locking front gate, new bars on my window, even a new roof. I'm pretty much living in new house! All the amenities are here too- running water from a well in my yard with motor, electricity, and a corner shop with NAFTA (natural gas) for my stove. Even my furniture situation is pretty stellar- I've got a stove, fridge, bed, and kitchen table all borrowed from neighbors and friends :-) All the basics taken care of in my simple life. The only thing that I lack is a tile floor- but concrete suits me just fine. In my backyard it gets even better- I have an enclosed veggie garden, a chicken coop, and fruit trees/plants ranging from papaya, orange, and lime, to avocado and grape. I'm definitely planting in my garden as well, to have a fresh range of veggies and spices. Yippee! I am very very please and super lucky to have found such a great deal- oh yes and all for around 75 USD/month. Gosh... wouldn't it be great if life was like this everywhere? Haha!

My spare time as of late has been all about getting settled in. I've got my dog and cat here now, still waiting on the chickens until they get a big bigger. So all's well- I've even got a new theme song: el Perro, el Gato, y Yo. Please enjoy a little soundbite from my South American life! (If you translate, it's actually not my life at all, but I like that at least the title is kinda my life here in Paraguay).

Día de Gracias y Sala de Emergencia

Thanksgiving- a time that we Americans get to say THANK YOU for all that we have in our country from infrastructure to diversity to lasting ideals. At a time when I am living so very far from that place, I am awed by just how much there really is to be thankful for. 

I spent my Thanksgiving at a resort outside of Encarnacion with several hundreds of Americans celebrating all that is great about our lives in Paraguay and our home in the United States. Swimming pools and all! It was a serious blast- auctions, competitions, hiking, dancing, and lots of friendly banter amongst close friends. And thank heavens for close friends- because this lovely weekend I also had my first adventure to a Paraguayan emergency room. The final night of our event, I was dancing with a super awesome friend and dance partner when I encountered some broken glass on the floor. Another friend passes by, "Be careful not to step on that glass!" It was already too late. Not realizing how badly I had cut my foot, I tried to continue the dance until realizing that the floor had become quite slippery... I was dancing in a puddle of my own blood. I limped across the dance floor to an area with more light and we quickly realized there was a larger problem at hand, pools of red followed in the wake of each footstep. Realizing the gravity of the situation, people began to mobilize- some of my friends even removing their shirts to stop the spouting blood. Bringing me water and making all the necessary phone calls- a friend smiles and says "Don't worry- this will all be funny tomorrow." I glare back, "Yeah, it's not funny yet." Carried by two of my G-mates still in their swim-trunks having just left the pool, and rushed to the emergency room by the PC security officer- I'm sure the hospital has seen a stranger bunch, but not by much. A little wincing with two friends to hold my hand and cover my eyes (I hate blood)- I was fixed up in no time. Two layers of stitches: one to close the artery I had apparently hit and another for my skin. I get to the waiting room to find my friends asleep, still only half dressed but there to take me home. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you for friends no matter where I am in the world! There is so much to be grateful for this year, but the relationships I have with all of you are at the top of my list.