~~~ Creepy Crawlies ~~~
Cockroaches that extend from the tip of
your finger to your middle knuckle. Spiders that run the speed of
pumas and that lie as flat as the Midwest. Moths as fat and large as
sparrows. All sorts of creepy crawlies haunt my evenings, but now I
saw the big mama of Paraguay – the tarantula. This makes it number
three for me in-country, but my heart beats even faster than it did
the first two times. The first one I saw was in site, while taking a
stroll along the road and very far away from any houses, and it was
quite small. The second time was in Encarnacion, the capital city of
my departmento, when the
arachnid was taking a breather on the side of a building in the shadows
of night. This siting, though, seems more serious. Beside my
beloved dog I was reading in the late hour of the evening. While my
legs stretched out on the table and my mind engrossed itself the
contents of my Kindle, I saw movement in my peripheral. Who
– what – do you think you're doing walking across my patio?!
While it crawled it seemed to
match the size of my palm, and it was such an extraordinary sight
that Jason untucked himself out of bed just to catch a glimpse of it
before it lurched into the bushes. “Wow,” was all I heard before
he retreated back to bed.
~~~ Enlightenment
~~~
It's
so easy to make superficial observations and remain content in my
judgment. But recently I learned a big lesson. To any Paraguay PCV,
the ATM can most likely be an ordeal of an excursion. Long lines,
line cutters, and people remaining silent and patient in response to
cutters...it's infuriating to a big city Norte
like me. At 6:45am I stood behind about 10 people, with an estimated
five others cutting ahead. This time I was not patient and I chose
to enter the ATM battle on the aggressive, using my backpack to block
wanna-be cutters and standing my ground. Using my usual big-city bad
ass techniques, like loud sighs and angry stares, I made it known to
my [much older] ATM brethren that I was perturbed. Finally, the man
in front of me asked if I knew how to use the ATM. Of
course, right? We all know how to use it, don't we? He
told me that not everyone knew how and that many of the eight people
I was observing huddling inside the ATM room where getting help. Soon
after he shuttled me into the ATM booth with
himself and the other seven-plus ATM users. A young woman who I had
earlier deemed a line cutter was
helping everyone use the machine. They would hand her their cards with
their pin numbers written on a torn-off sheets of paper. She noted me
herself I suppose, because she asked if I knew how to use the
machine. Yes? She told
me to go ahead of everyone else and explained to group that because I
knew how to use it, I could cut (my
paraphrasing of course). The glass had been shattered and I walked
away with an enlightened mind and a few very
important lessons.
~~~ Rejuvenation
~~~
A lot – and much
of the same old – has happened over the month of February. Most
importantly I visited a friend, who lives near the city of Carapegua,
and thereafter I traveled to Asuncion. Sunny's site better
represents those lived in by other PC Paraguay agriculture volunteers
than my own; her house is bereft of running water and she therefore
bathes in 3-ft diameter wash-bin, she excretes in a [very nice]
latrine, the houses of her community are fairly spread out from one
another, and the population of her campo community is very
small. We visited some of her neighbors and during our visit one
family was practicing the artisan craft of Enkaheju. Three generations of women sat together and weaved blankets and decorative placemats. [[[I'll try to add a photo next post]]] The hands of the
grandmother moved like the evanescent flutterings of a hummingbird,
clearly a testament to her years of experience and to the mastery of
her trade. During this Sunday visit my friend talked to them about
their options for acquiring conehos, or bunnies. (Coneho
breeding is one of the projects she works on with some households
in her community). Ultimately, being in Carapegua and Asuncion had a prodigious
effect on my mood and former rut, not because of one particular
experience or conversation, but because for a few days I was
surrounded by guapo and inspiring PCVs who could all empathize
with the struggles of being a new volunteer.
Jason digging some decent soil under our neighbors bamboo patch --- the soil was to be used to prepare our garden beds and start seedlings.
My baby girl (the all white one).
A pic of Jason holding some bamboo he harvested and dragged to the back of our house.
The front of our house. Chuchi!
The kitchen. Notice that there is no sink...
...because our water is outside! It serves us pretty well in these summer months, but when winter comes I probably won't like this arrangement very much. Also pictured is our neighbors' very skinny and lovable dog.
My little seed-starter greenhouse sort of thing. The plastic top protects the plants from the hard rain and the sides allow for ventilation. Why? Because of chickens, heat, and killer sun rays that's why!
The tarantula. Please excuse the disgusting super random piece of garbage. I didn't even notice it when I was taking this scale picture -- she's nearly half the size of my Kindle!!!
Just gorgeous -- and deadly -- next time I'm going to machete her beautiful behind.
A scorpion Jason found when preparing the garden.
Sunny and her latrine!
Orry's site presentation (an event led by the bosses which presents the PCV to their community and explains a bit about their work. Pictured left to right: Gloria (my boss in the pink long sleeve), Orry (next to Gloria in the burgundy polo), Mike (PCV/Gloria's assistant - kind of), and Jason.
Gloria in action!
