December 17, 2009 (typo disclaimer: I can´t figure out how to change the spellcheck language permanently. Every time I switch it to English I just reverts back to Spanish. It also randomly changes some of my words so I apologize in advance if you have to do a little guessing to decipher what I´m saying.

I’ve now been in my site just two full days. A whole series of emotions and thoughts have been running through me as I struggle to make sense of the languages swirling around me. I am staying with a sweet older couple. I have a bedroom connected to the computer room. The Women´s comité put their heads together to get them donated by an organization, or that´s how I understood it at least.

You know now given that I´m writing you that I arrived safely in site, but you don´t know the half of it nor the stress as I proceeded to navigate my way on public transportation. Thankfully, this was not my first time getting to my site, but it was the first time when I went completely by myself.

In the morning on Tuesday, December 15 I woke early to enjoy one last good breakfast at the Chaco Hotel with my Bellow PCVs. I loaded my two packpacks up and Amanda and I caught a bus to the terminal. The more I walk with the heavy pack the more I was thankful I didn´t have to take all of my staff out to site. I also wondered whether I really needed all the staff I had in my bag.

Once at the terminal I managed to tell the attendant that I needed to make it to O´Leary by 1pm and I asked how long it would take to get there. She sold me a ticket for the 8:30 bus and said it would take 3 hours. I was hopeful that even if she was an hour off I should still arrive with a little extra time to send a letter off at the post office. This was not the case. As we got closer to my finally destination I began to worry because I didn´t know what my next plan of action would be because I was Barkly going to arrive by 1pm.

I bought chipa on the bus and thought of my friend Kevin who has convinced my to buy chipa several times and is always pleased when I give and am happy I did. There´s nothing like chipa to satisfy a hungry stomach and a long bus ride always makes one hungry. Thankfully, for the bus ride I was sitting front and center on the 2nd floor of a double-decker bus. For some this would be the last place they´d want to sit because the main highway is only 2 lanes and the busses are not afraid to use the shoulders as an extra Lane. It´s a good thing too because I would have arrived in O´Leary even later. I don´t mind the rides because I get to read and write a lot. Of course, I´m sure I´ll be thinking differently once I´m in site for awhile and those are my forms of entertainment.

At 3 past one I stepped off the bus and waited in the dust for my backpack to be pulled from the belly of the bus. With only and ounce of hope that maybe the bus had been late I drug my luggage to the terminal and asked a lady if there was a “collective a Ka’a Jovai”. I couldn´t understand her response at all, but she kept pointing in the opposite direction I wanted to go. I thanked her and stepped out and walked to the other side of the terminal. I asked a man who was waiting on the side of the road leading to my community about the bus and he gave me a sad look and shook his head saying it had left at one. At this, I crossed the road to a stand under a shade tree with a bunch of other Paraguayans. I was in the middle of texting a friend when I noticed a run down bus pull up to the cross roads from across the street. Not recognizing it as the bus I rode 2 weeks earlier, I dared to hope that it might cross the road and take me in the direction of my barrio.

I crossed the road again and shortly after was joined by others who had been standing under the tree. Some other random older man walked up to my and started asking me questions. He apparently knew the PCV that lives in the town and another person who I was not acquainted with. I asked him about the bus and he told me it was going in my direction. The bus pulled up and I recognized the driver and the girl who takes the bus fair and helps the passengers. Relief swept over me as I sat down.

It was a long 22km and I was tired. I knew shortly after I stepped off the bus that I stepped into a new problem entirely. I knew where I was staying, but I no Langer knew where I Peace Corps issued cell phone was. Yes, that´s right I just lost my cell phone just 4 days after getting it. Not a great way to show how responsible you are when you first arrive. I was met my Lorena halfway to my destination. She took me to her family’s house (her father is also a community contact). As best as I could I explained about my cell phone and he hoped on a moto and rode 16 km to try to catch the bus in hopes of recovering my phone. No such luck. I called Gloria, my boss, and she called the office to have my phone cancelled. I know need to figure out how to get a police report and make the trip back to Asunción. I was hoping I wouldn´t have to make that trip for a long time but I’ll just make the most of it while I’m there.

In the mean time, I tried to swallow my disappointment and frustration and focus on making conversation and getting to know this family. I will be living with this family next month. The grandfather wanted to buy my smoker from me and they even showed me one of the hives. I´ll take a closer look at it once I get settled.

Thus far i´ve done a whole lot of sitting, reading, writing, trying to talk, eating and some more sitting, reading and writing. I managed to mix it up by working out and walking to the kokue to root up some mandi’o. While out there Ña Vinda showed me giant green worms that are devistating many of the plants. I watched as she decapitated them with her hands and they spun around clinging to the plant with their insides oozing out. I told them about a venenos casero (homemade pesticide) after calling my tech trainer Brian for a recommendation. We´ll see if I can actually motivate them to try it because after I told her about it she showed me a container of pee (I ´m not sure who or what type of pee), but apparently she uses this to control them, but again plenty was lost in translation.

I´m sure these posts will be well after the fact, but at least I have computers I can use here. I didn´t bring my laptop out with me because it was just too much and I knew that I might have access to the computers here. Thankfully, that has turned out to be the case. I’m getting plenty of looks as I type. The children and teenages that come here every day are here for computer classes, but they’re not learning to type so they think it’s pretty cool when I just write without having to look at the keyboard. (Thank you Grandma Curtis for all those hours you spend teaching Carissa and I on your typewriters ) School’s out for the summer, but every day there have been different kids here slowly typing out the pages. It´s exciting that they have such nice new computers. Maybe I can teach typing classes when I learn how to speak the languages.

Well, time to see who I can go visit for a little while. I´m supposed to go look at some hives at 4pm, but we’ll see if that actually happens.

December 19

The weather has been threatening rain or in the case of two nights ago actually raining which means I have yet to go look at the hives. Oh well, there are plenty of other days for me to go look at them. I’m used to the idea that plenty of things get planned, but you’ll have to be patient and wait for them to actually happen.

For example, yesterday I went to a high school graduation. I heard 2 or 3 different start times non of which turned out to be correct. I was told to show up at my contacts house at 5. I decided I would wait until 5:30 to text and take a shower. It turned out to not matter because the graduation didn’t start until 10:30. My contacts daughter, Lorena (14) came to my host family’s house to pick me up. We walked back to her house and within and hour she had my hair done up with little rubber bands and given me chuchi clothes to wear. I would have been just fine wearing the skirt I came in, but I figured I would go along with it. Lorena’s aunt from Buenos Aires and sister from Argentina had made long bus trips to be there for the graduation.

The graduation was more like a cross between a wedding and quinciera. The event was held outside with large banners draped across from post to post. There was a big stage and tons of giant speakers. All the girls were dressed in the same long pink prom dress and the boys wore black pants and white dress shirts. Rather than just having a speaker and the class walk across a stage and receive diplomas like we do in the states, each graduate was announced and escorted by someone special—boyfriend, girlfriend, mother, father, etc. After they were announced and applauded they danced together and that was the end of the ceremony. After they began dancing we started eating what the women had prepared earlier—traditional Paraguayan fair. Even though it was fried I enjoyed it because I love empanadas. There was also chipaguasu, Milanese, and fried croquettes filled with soy meat (those were delicious). We had hard cider for a toast and finished with a delicious cake. It was really moist because of the milk and dulce de leche in it. The frosting was delicious and homemade too. After being asked several times I finally agreed to join the dancing. After a few songs my other contacts girls rescued me. It was almost 1am when we finally left. I fell asleep to the rhythm of reggaeton.

How to spend your last Saturday in Porterito

Hello again, All of us trainees will be swearing in the coming Friday at the U.S. Embassy. I am excited to see the inside of the compounds and maybe even take a dip in the swimming pool. I’ve heard there is a pet deer and perhaps I’ll catch a glimpse of it as well.
Yesterday, was an ideal day. We had half a day of training. Training was trainee facilitated. Everyone gave about a 10 minute charla on PYan cultural topics (in guarani). I chose music. Although you hear plenty of different music ranging from the ever percussion dominated reggeaton to American country, PY only has 2 traditional types of music. Polka and Guarania. Both use the harp and guitar. Occasionally, the accordion is also used. Polka is fast and danced to, whereas Guarania is enjoyed only by listening to it. There’s your quick cultural lesson and the extent of my guarani language abilities (don’t be too impressed because I’m sure I butchered plenty of the words and I had written them down and practiced ahead of time). One of the funniest charla’s was given by Dan. PYans have a lot of superstitions when it comes to drinking terere or mate. There certain combinations you must not combine in order to avoid serious illness and/or death. For example, don’t eat watermelon after drinking Terere. You’re not supposed to shower after mate. Dan interviewed several Paragauyans and our medical officer. They were very sincere in confirming the dangers and Mary (one of our medical officers) said that they probably would just because they believed it so strongly. It’s amusing, until you’re late because you they won’t let you shower after drinking mate in the morning with them. But that is PY for you.
During merienda (break time), our language professors cooked for us. We had salsa, mandi’o chyryry, and a flat bread (the specific name escapes me). It was the best mandi’o chyryry I have had yet. Basically, you chop up mandi’o, onion and mix it with cheese and egg and fry the whole mess up. It’s kind of like potato casserole.
After class, I walked the half hour into town to the cyber café with Jordan and Miquelito. I was so happy I got to talk to Kami and Jeremy. It was a beautiful walk because the weather has been mild this past week. In addition to purchasing garlic, onions, and green peppers, we bought a kilo and half of tomatoes (2.2 lbs) for our spaghetti dinner.
Most of the group had agreed to meet for a game or two of volleyball, but we have apparently fallen into Paraguayan mode with our Ikatu’s or maybe’s, that most likely mean no. Jordan, Kevin, and I tossed a ball around until I jumped out of my skin and let a scream out to match it when a black dog with stubby legs ran after me when I went after the ball. He completely took me by surprise as he slammed into my leg. Everyone was rolling with laughter, including me, including our audience of children. It was pretty hilarious. It was getting late at this point and I had been hungry since I walked back from town. Besides I love cooking and I wanted to get started.
Food brings people together. Everyone showed up who was able. Although everyone gave Amelia and me credit for the food, it was a joint effort. We cooked at Jordan’s place. I found a pink apron and got to work dicing up tomatoes, onion, and garlic. Kevin provided the music for cooking. Cooking is always better with music. You never know when the right song is going to come on and you’re going to feel like dancing a little—especially as the aroma of onions and garlic begin to fill the air and makes you salivate. Amelia got Jordan’s little host brothers to join in on a song or two. We threw in some fresh oregano and some dried herbs Grandma Graham had given me. While the pot of spaghetti sauce was simmering, Jordan helped me cut up the rest of the tomatoes, peppers, and onions to make a salsa/ bruchetta mixture which would be the topping for the fresh garlic and basil bread. The lime juice and hot peppers really added to the salsa/bruchetta. In the mean time, Amelia headed up the chocolate chip cookie baking. I took a meat tenderizer mallet and broke the solid frozen chuck of chocolate into pieces. The chocolate was from Kami (Jeremy’s mom). The cookies turned out amazing. We shared them with Jordan’s host family for being gracious enough to let us use their kitchen and ended up polishing off the entire batch by the end of the night. While the kilo and a half of pasta was boiling we got the table set for all ten of us and after a toast and a blessing we dined on the most delicious spaghetti dinner! Smiles all around. And that was the best way to spend my last Saturday in Porterito. I love cooking and feeding friends.

swimming pools

Every day is rather unusual just because I’m in Paraguay, but today you would be laughing at my situation for entirely new reasons.
On Saturday, I was told by my host Mom and two sisters that I would be going to visit the fat aunt “tia gorda” in Asuncion and that tomorrow I would be swimming. Like every time, I’m never quite sure if what I understand from all the loud talking from everyone is actually going to happen. I usually, have a least parts correct, but other times, I’m way off and the event doesn’t pertain to me. This time for instance I thought my host mom and host dad were going with me. Turns out my host mom and little sister were just dropping me off.
After getting dropped off at some other random ladies house (she might be related to my host family, but I couldn’t tell), I spent the better part of the early evening sitting with an older woman wearing torquise-blue crocs and her 92-year-old mother . I sat there on the patio in nice white metal chairs talking about the states, food, music, and Muslims (her daughter’s bf is Muslim). They spoke Spanish mostly, but when they really wanted to be clear they’d witch to guarani. I can understand both languages with about equal clariy—I have to guess plenty and other times I just smile and nod and hope they don’t ask a question which will reveal that I don’t understand. It was enjoyable in spite of being so tired from lack of sleep the past few days. I’ve gotten better at being patient and making conversation. I can’t wait until I can really understand. She also fed me some delicious empandas and sweet potato with Coca-cola to wash it town. At one point we had a conversation about diet and I thought she was saying something about not eating much sugar because she needed insulin shots. I have no idea now. While eating, the 92-year-old lady was funny because she would just throw any part of the empanada on the ground that she didn’t want to eat.
After while, Elisabeth (the fat-aunts daughter) showed up to take me back to their house.
November 29: 5:24 am
My Spanish/guarani is worse in the morning. Of course it doesn’t help when you’re woken up to a large lady toweling herself off in the same room as you. My poor muddled brain was trying to determine what they wanted of me. I quickly changed and shortly after found myself jammed in a van next to giant speakers and bags of hot dog buns.
After about a half hour drive we reached the gates of Nazareth Country Club. It was really early and it took forever for them to get someone to open the gate even with the consistent honking.
This place has 3 beautiful pools. I probably spent a good 6 hours in the water that day. I wore myself out with all the laps I swam back and forth. The water was crystal clear and the people I came with work there so after laminating my temporary pass I was basically free to do as I pleased. I spend plenty of time reading and played a lot of foosball too. It was a long day, but it was a great day.
Unfortunately, the evening wasn’t so cool. And by not cool, I mean sauna like. I thought I would be going back to my host family that night since it wasn’t very far from home, but alas I had to spend another night on the bed that folds up at the corners. We had a strong fan, but it was merely circulating the hot, stagnant air. Needless to say, I barely slept. In the morning, ominous storm clouds were rolling in. If I were Paraguayan this would me that I don’t have to go to school and maybe work. Peace corps training doesn’t run by PY norms. I couldn’t convince my relative of this so in exhaustion I laid back down. My host mom knows this and I figured she’d take care of it, besides the storm was cooling this off and making it possible to sleep. My host mom called me at 7. I simply handed it to my relative and within a half hour I was handed bus fair and led to the road to catch the bus back home. I arrived to training just in time to catch the first break and some fresh brewed coffee.