I love speaking in Guarani. Kyryry (koo-roo-roo, frog), chivivi (shee-vee-vee, diarrhea), and chyryry (shoo-roo-roo, fried); these are all words that bring me great joy. Che rera Nicol ha che ahayhu ane'ehina Guaranipe. Welcome to Guarani. Jagua means dog. You want to make it small? Add an 'i (jagua'i). You want to talk about two or more dogs, just add kuera (jaguakuera). Speaking in Guarani is like a puzzle that I can actually accomplish. But the greatest reason why I love Guarani is that I'm learning an indigenous language that belongs to the people of Paraguay. This is the language of their hearts, their souls. I've been repeatedly told that you don't have to always speak Guarani to people in el campo, but if you do, you significantly deepen the connection between yourself and the community. I witnessed this regard one week ago.
Jason and I hopped on a bus and traveled three hours to the capital city of el Departmento de Missiones. While waiting in the local square, a young girl with short hair and glasses approached us. She is definitely an American. Stacy gave us a both big hugs and welcomed us to her Department. A rickety bus painted loosely in green, blue, and red dropped us off in her small community of 250 people. Surrounded by chomping cows and squawking chickens, her simple house became our (temporary) home and Stacy became our interim sy, or mother. This impressive 24-year-old is serving her first year as a Environmental Conversation and Education PCV. Over a terere session she told us about how she has just raised and slaughtered her first pig and how she is now raising two young chicks. She has also worked diligently to establish relationships between herself and her host community. While first staying with nine different families (YES NINE FAMILIES IN 3 MONTHS), she has made a grand effort to meet most of her neighbors and she has also applied herself to learning Guarani. Let me tell you, there is nothing cooler than hearing a little rubia speak Guarani fluently.
For those three days Jason and I were free. We had plenty of space to be together or be apart, we ate beans and vegetables for every meal of every day, and we terered every possible relaxing second. It was pure bliss to live with Stacy in that brief period. Jason and I have been back in Guarambare for one week now and we are increasingly eager to move out into the campo. There are many unknowns that await us in two-months time, but Jason and I agree that goats and chickens exist somewhere along our upcoming path. Lately, my evenings and weekends have been occupied by studying Guarani, washing and ironing clothes, cleaning our mini-house, playing sudoku, and spending time with new friends, the family, and Jason.
My language class writing notes in Guarani.
One of my AMAZING language teachers. We are so lucky to have the best language team out of the four satellite sites.
My training crew relaxing with some ice cream. I should add that in the States we're pretty lucky to have the best ice cream options.
Jason helping Stacy prepare our first meal in her kitchen. She had a small propane oven, a large refrigerator, and indoor plumbing. It was very nice.
Some terere with chamomile fresh picked from the garden.
A wild mama monkey hanging out in the treetops.
Jason picking berries from an Inga tree. Very similar to muscadine berries in South Carolina.
Jason and Amy at the "falls"
Preparing to make soap with one of Amy's neighbors.We picked yuyus from the garden and cut off part of a cactus for this process.
I'm stirring the pot -- very witch like. The bucket was extremely hot due to some sort of chemical that we added. The process seemed somewhat dangerous.
The final product (almost!) The neighbor has been making her own soap for 15 years.
A picture of the rubia chick. One night both climbed all over the three of us. Although I want to believe that she loved me, she was probably just cold.
Amy in front of her house walking to outside wash station.
My adorable nieces.
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