Final Post

Thank you to everyone for your interest in my Peace Corps blog. Due to personal circumstances that had nothing to do with being a PCV, I early terminated (ETed, aka quit) my service last June. I'd like to emphasize that my decision had nothing to do with my post or my PC experience. I loved being a volunteer, I loved my fellow PCVs, I loved my post, and I loved my host community.

Amachucahina Mbohapy M'bae Guasu ::: Crushing Three Big Things

It all finally happened. The three big things that I've been waiting months for have now come:

1) The series of tubes that connect the goings-on of the world to my simple home in Itapua have been established. Honestly, this accomplishment was in no thanks to the two local internet companies, but instead to the ingenuity of that man I married. Jason has been able to do some great things around the house that I would not have been able to do as well if serving alone. For example, the garden is nearly completed because of his diligence and strength. In our community the soil is very very poor; a paucity of organic matter and rainfall has turned the soil to rock, and I doubt I could have shoveled out the beds in a time matching his. Also, he built a very very lindo garden fence. True, there are no deer and in fact no pesky small mammals of any sort, but a fence protecting your greens from the malevolent squackers that freely lurch around the community is a must.

2) I'm in a groove, a routine, a period of motivation. I think a large part of this new found self-reliance was born from Jason's brief departure from site. Due to a tragedy, medical appointments, and our first host-mom's 60^th birthday, the hubby left our small community for quite a few days. This truly forced me to be alone with my community and to be alone with myself – more so than any other time in Paraguay, which cumulatively is more time than in my whole life. From this experience I have now felt for the first time what it is like to be a PCV. The vast majority of volunteers serve alone. With this [initially] solitary service comes the awkward situations of meeting new people for the first time and as a PCV this usually means in a new language. Normally, Jason and I visit new families, battle language barriers, and confront awkwardness together. But now I've done these tasks all on my own. Check. This liberation has prompted me to finally put together a daily routine, which my personality greatly needs for efficacy's sake. I wake up early, do house and garden chores, shower, and visit one family before the siesta. During the siesta I do work, cook, eat, and rest. From the moment siesta ends until the time darkness blankets the town around 6 o'clock I am out and about visiting families. At night I cook, eat, work, and read. Groove, check. And finally, I have met with the two local agricultural committees, introduced myself and my work, and led a group activity. Charla in Jopara, check.

3) My neighbor's cat finally popped out some kittens – in our house. It all went down on a Saturday morning while Jason and I were still in bed. Meow, meeeoooowww. In my half dream state I ignore the cries, until Jason asks me if it is the cat. I opened the window of the poor girl meowed like I've never heard her meow before. Is she in labor? I cuddle on the couch* with her and the meowing only ceases when I pet her. She can't get comfortable and she constantly readjusts herself. Soon after our short cuddle session I arise from bed and the horrendous cries follow my steps, until I turn and see the kitty-kitty in the poop position. Holy crap, it's going to happen right now. I grab a box and a dishcloth, and quickly place the feline inside. Within three-minutes the first kitten was born. Four hours later four kittens were licked and cared for my their mum, in a zappos box, in my living room.

Coming up in April: Semana Santa (like Easter, but different traditions), G-43 Reconnect (a mini-training week with my cohort), and my 9-year Being-Together Anniversary with that boy.Also, not a lot of pics this post. The next is sure to have A TON!

*Not really a couch, but another bed in the living room. Couches are very rare. Instead, the majority of, homes have at least one bed in the common spaces of the room. I'm not sure if this is related to wealth, practically, or some other facet I haven't yet figured out.

 Jason showing off how many pant sizes he's lost over the last 6 months. 

The fence and gate that Jason built.

A picture of the first kitten immediately after she was born. 

Kittens one week later and in their new home - a suitcase.

Machucando Febrero ::: Crushing February

~~~ 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!

Machucando che roga pyahu ::: Crushing my new house

“Here you go kyryry,” Jason says as he kicks over a treat. I feel no pity for the exoskeletoned critter, since normally on nights like this one its kin would be flying into my face or into the wall, repeatedly, as if drunk on the night air. I sit and watch as the kyryry makes no delay to devour the food in a single gulp, after a single leap. From my chair I can see Jason, our newly adopted dog, and our neighbor's cat. Finally, after a very long day, the four of us our reunited. Nothing dramatic, let me note, only that our new dog ran back home, and by home I mean section of street where our neighbors found our homeless friend over a month ago. It had also been 24-hours since we saw our cat – I mean she practically is our cat, I wake up every day to her in our house, she eats our food, and she clearly loves us more, probably because I tocar* the hell out of her. Both of our animals are white all over, except when the red, sandy dirt mosaics around their bodies, and neither presently have names.

On this night Jason and I are relaxing on our new porch. Finally, after 6-weeks of being in site we are moved into our new house. It's large and has lots of space for gardens and animals. Our closest PCV came to visit and he called our digs chuchi, and I'm inclined to agree. For ag and environmental volunteers, we probably live in one of the nicest houses. Tile, running water, walls made of plaster instead of wooden slats, these are luxuries.

Jason and I working on a variety of “projects” right now; meeting new people, visiting families we haven't seen in over a month, starting seedlings, preparing the garden, getting internet, etc. This brings me to –

Current excitements: Cooking with seasonal vegetables and fruits. Right now only onions are grown in my community, but in the pueblo we can buy parsley, squash, garlic, and cabbage. I suspect that they are being shipped in from other communities, or maybe even Argentina. Getting our garden started. There have already been a lot of hurtles thus far, but hopefully we can get through them in time for the growing season. Meeting new families and maintaining relationships with ones we've already met. I think that Jason and I have not been so guapo lately and we need to step up our game. The heat, as well as some other obstacles, have really slowed down our getting to know the community. Also, I've been visiting my host family a lot. I suppose because they seem familiar and safe (and I enjoy their company of course), and they are the closest thing that Jason and I have to family here in Itapua. With that said, I look forward to getting out there again, meeting new folks, and revisiting the ones we haven't seen in a long time. Hanging out with my dog and cat. Again, not really our cat, but she spends most of her day in our presence. Animals fill a space in my heart and I already feel so much healthier having them in my life. I suspect that our dog has been abused, but she is utterly sweet and she loves following us on walks around the community.

Current frustrations: The heat. Damn you sun and your strength! Gender stuff. This is a beautiful country with beautiful people, and I'm amazed at how practically everyone in my site is so guapo and kind. But it is what's called a machismo culture and there are clear, gender roles that make me a bit peeved at times. The other day my guapo husband was washing his clothes (by hand) and some of the workers from next store were laughing at his for it. Men cheating is openly discussed by both genders, mostly in joking form. Men and women cannot be friends, it will automatically be interpreted as a sexual relationship by everyone, including the relative man or woman in the friendship. I'm not saying anyone is right or wrong, I'm just saying that these actions annoy me. Lack of internet. I know a lot of people came into this experience wanting to be completely cut off from society, but not me. I miss talking to my friends and family back home and I man-o-man do I miss NPR. Also, preparing my thesis proposal has been somewhat difficult. I just want to know what is going on outside of my little bubble, and I want to know more about the world than Paul Walker and Phillip Seymore Hoffman dying.

Current personal status: I'm trying to get my head back in the game. I think Jason and I had a great start here in site, but we maybe fell off wagon for the last couple of weeks, for various reasons. This is hard, as we've been told many times that it would be. This is the hardest job that you'll ever love. Repeating that over and over again in my mind and holding on tight to that mantra is probably a good idea. I'm trying to get myself pumped up again and trying to find a new routine. Waking up at 6am, working out, washing clothes and cleaning, and working on household projects; these are the activities I hope to fill my mornings. Hanging out with the community the entire ka'aru; I can totally make this happen. Reading, laughing and talking with Jason, and watching anything Star Trek,: these are the activities I want to fill my February nights.

Things coming up in February: School starts. Jason and I have our site presentation, which means that our bosses will come out and formally introduce us at a community meeting.

*Sometimes Jason and I (and other PCVs too) use random Spanish or Guarani words when we speak English. Sometimes we don't conjugate; it's just funnier that way...at least to us :)

My host father and host uncle, playing their usual game with a Spanish deck of cards.. 

My host mom and their helper taking off kernels of corn from the cob. This corn will be used to feed the chickens or to make any number of the Paraguayan dishes that require corn. 

A closeup view. I think with this particular batch our family's helper ended up grinding some of the kernels to make corn meal, to ultimately make a traditional dish called vori vori. 

Our community hosted a torin, or bull fight. Paraguayan bullfighting is more like dancing with the bull and does not involve injury to the animal, aside from maybe frustrating it.

Another shot, also not so good. Next year I'll get a better spot. 

This young boy was mimicking his father, who was playing with a band at the torin. Most likely they were playing the Paraguayan polka. 

A shot of the campo portion of our community.

A shirtless, skinny Jason.

A sweaty me.

Jason shirtless again, this time accompanied by our neighbor's cat and sitting on our new front porch.

A view of the back of our house.

A group shot of the Itapua VAC. A VAC is a group of volunteers from a particular area. Our VAC meets every month to answer questions from Peace Corps staff and to run project ideas by the group.

My surprise birthday celebration, hosted by my host family and neighbors.

Mmmm...birthday cake! Happy 30s to me!

Machucando al final del Entrenamiento y mi nuevo Sitio ::: Crushing the end of Training and my new Site

Slurping the juices of a Paraguayan mandarin that hints to lemon and orange, which I gathered myself from my family's tree. Looking up at Orion and hundreds of his siblings in the blackened sky during one of my nightly strolls. Riding a horse for the first time. Catching up on the books that I've set aside for the past many years, when I buried myself inside of city life and television instead of enriching my mind with the written word. These have been my respites during these first few weeks at my new site (by the way, I'm now an official PCV! Check out the photos below). Summer has finally begun and it is very hot, the sun is very, very strong, and the campo life is very, very, very slow.

As a new volunteer in a new site (meaning that no volunteer has preceded me here) one of my jobs has been to go about and meet people in my community. Sometimes this means traveling across the either cobblestoned or naked streets just a few houses away, on the heels of my new host mother – I know, this makes Paraguayan mum #4. But most of the time Jason and I wander about our new community and approach anyone lingering outside of their homes, while feeling like lost puppies hoping someone will take us in. We are almost always invited to sit and partake in terere, the cold tea beverage universal to Paraguayan households. I've already fallen in love with many of the families here. Most are warm and excited to have us in their town, and even earnestly honored to have us in their homes.

After talking to some members of my cohort it seems that there is a spectrum of which people have dealt with this assignment. Within one-week one friend had visited twenty-five houses in his community, while another left his house only once to buy cigarettes; we are all coping with our new placements in different ways. I fall somewhere in the middle I guess, probably leaning more towards the not-leaving-the-house side. Personally, it is hard to adjust to the unstructured lifestyle. I've always had a job or been in school, and when I was in school I always had a job. Busyness was my structure and every hour had a task assigned. Now, the tranquilo lifestyle, amplified by the absolutely intense heat, leaves me not so guapo.

However, I have taken this quiet time to think a lot – as my anxious mind regularly does. I've made leaps and bounds where my thesis is concerned, and I'm on my way to getting my proposal completed. I've also identified potential projects within the community and found neighbors who've expressed interest in working with me. Furthermore, I've taken a lot of time to reflect on why I'm here and what I hope to accomplish in Paraguay, under the north sun instead of underneath Chicago's snowy shoulders. The holiday season made Jason pine for home and for our family, but I don't share in his love for cold weather or Christmas trees adorned and lighted. Instead, this heat reminds me of the Chicago summer, a yearning so nostalgic that my stomach knots and tears emerge from my eyes every time the thought flutters across my mind. The warmth also reminds me of great times had in Charleston, spent with friends in backyard barbeques or on the salted beaches, watching Lucy and Mattie growl and tussle on land or watching dolphins play in the sea. Perhaps my time in Paraguay will result in similar memories and I hope that the next time I feel the sun kiss my face in the northern hemisphere I will long for my Paraguayan family.

I know this is not a lot of information at this point, considering Jason and have lived in our permanent site for almost a month now, but know that everything is going well enough here. There are very many lovely and impressive families in my community. Jason and I live with a couple in their 60s and 70s and we have a nice big room. We still have no internet at our site, but once we rent a house we hope to change that. Happy 2014 everyone!

My host sister and I preparing the pasta I made for the Dia de la Virgin de Caacupe (but Jason and I would like to think the say also served as our going away party too.)

One of the last times I'll watch my host family gather around the outdoor table. My pasta was a hit! -- the Peruvian rice not so much. 

My host mom and host brother in front of the alter they made for the Virgin. My mother and three host sisters and I -- I mean, I stood next to them -- prayed to the Virgin in ritualistic fashion, repeating different phrases over and over again for about 15-minutes. 

Mike speaking at our swearing-in ceremony, on behalf of all the G-43ers. 

 Jason and I giving our host parents a certificate and saying goodbye for one of the last times. 

Party time!

My two men .

My new host family's kitchen. My host mom is the short one :)

My host niece and host father, enjoying some terere in the sombra of a mango tree in the back yard. 

The nativity scene set up by my host mother and neighbor. I think it is very impressive. 

 My host brother preparing the bbq for the Christmas. 

   

On Christmas Eve we celebrated the same way as I do with my dad's side of the family -- a late meal and staying up till midnight to celebrate Christmas day with sparking cider. Here you see the components of a typical Paraguayan meal: Meat, chipa guasu (a corn, cheese, milk concoction) and mandio.

At midnight my host family prayed in front of the nativity scene. 

Machucando Mitos, Asignaciones del Sitio y Cuellos del Pollo... Literalmente ::: Crushing Myths, Site Assignments, and Chicken Necks...Literally

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

DO NOT READ OR LOOK PASSED THE LAST TWO PARAGRAPHS IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ ABOUT OR SEE CHICKEN DEATH.

DO READ THE LAST TWO PARAGRAPHS AND LOOK AT THE PHOTOS IF YOU WANT TO LEARN ABOUT THE PROCESS OF KILLING AND PREPARING A CHICKEN FOR CONSUMPTION...I'm glad I now know how it's done in most of the world.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The toothless spaces move about in front of my eyes. I'm fixated on the gaps where there should be blocks of white enamel. My mom threw them on the roof, she tells me. Why? For the rat. I had been talking to one of my nieces, this one is 7-years-old and is missing many teeth. It was only at the beginning of this conversation when I realized that the tooth fairy probably only works in the States and I therefore asked my niece where her teeth had gone. In Paraguay, the children are not visited by fairies or given money; they are much more selfless here. The children, or rather their mothers, “give” baby teeth to the rats by throwing them on the roofs of their houses. This way, the rats are able to put them in their mouths when they pass them by during a nightly stroll, and of course ultimately are able to acquire new teeth.

The mythology of Paraguay is extensive and it reminds me how young my Norte country is comparatively. One of my favorites is the Bombero, who hides in the woods and when he whistles at you, you must give him alcohol and cigars or there will be consequences. The Kurupi has a penis that wraps around his waste three times and when he sees a woman he likes, he lassos his prehensile member around her. I'm sure that there are a lot more details to these myths and when I soon go to the campo I will learn more about the creatures that lurch around this landlocked country.

Time is passing quickly and in less than a week I will find myself in a new campo (countryside) home. Everything will be new and I will find myself a member of many new families. But at this moment I'm not ready to leave Guarambare. I love my host mom and my host nieces and nephews. I don't wanna leave! I say as I stomp my foot and cross my arms. My mother and I have been spending a lot of time together lately, and we've both shed tears in front of the other and in private. One of most memorable moments of our past few days is the particularly unique experience we just shared: my first chicken adventure!

Having no prior experience handling chickens, it began with the odds forever not in my favor. Maria threw me into the gallenero (chicken coop) with little more instruction than I think you grab them around their wings. Only five chickens remained from the 20 my agricultural tech group started with; the rest had already been given to other host families and the language teachers. We raised them from chicks and in the two-months that they lived in our training site they grew quite immensely. In this moment though, chickens squawked and feathers thustled as I chased the last survivors like my own head was cut off. I had one cornered. I faked him out to the left, to the right, and finally he was mine. The poor thing traveled with me from one town to the next in the very bag that first held his food – now it held mine. As I neared my house after the mile walk home, my mother arose from the patio chair. Usually I am greeted by kisses and questions, but on this day there was no greeting. With a smile extending from ear to ear she grabbed the bag and walked to the outdoor kitchen. Soon I found the 3 kilo meal dangling by its feet from my mother's grasp. Let me take a picture! I exclaimed to my mom. My camera snapped the shot – and continued to shoot the unsuspected events that transpired over the next 10 seconds. My mother was wringing the neck of the ryguasu (chicken in Guarani) and by the end of this short time span the young gallero was dead. Two days later he supplied my entire household of 10+ people with a delectable meal.

I've posted the photos documenting this process below. The other photos feature the day our permanent site assignments were revealed and a few shots of Thanksgiving at the US Embassadors house. Coming up this week: Moving out of Guarambare, being sworn in as an official PC volunteer (PCV), and moving into my new home in Itapua!!!

My cultural excursion group spending the morning of Site Assignment Day exploring some of the culture in PY.

We are on top of one of the tallest hills in our area. We found this rock mound with stairs and a large cross.

We visited one of the local districts that is famous for making hammocks. This women is using all four of her limbs to work the loom.

Some trainees approaching the famous church Temple de SanBuen Aventura in Yaguaron. 

It is quite spectacular.

After lunch, the Director of Training delivered some last minute words before the Ag and 

Environment teams passed out our site folders. The empty map of Paraguay stands behind her.

The final assignments of the G-mates.

Thanks!

Taking a refined internet break in the US Ambassador's library.

 The ambassador and his wife welcoming us to the Thanksgiving feast. I didn't get to take a picture of the food, but I took some turkey home to my family and my mom had turkey for the first time!

 My mama.

Step 1: Wring the neck of the chicken when your host daughter least expects it.

Step 2: Boil the chicken for about 1 minute. 

Step 3: Pluck off the feathers.

 Step 3.5: Wash the chicken and pluck and tiny feathers that escaped prior removal.

Step 4: Cut off the feet.

Step 5: Remove the organs and the esophagus of the chicken.

Step 6: Your chicken is ready! Here's my little nephew learning about the process too!

Step 7: Feed the feet to Ringo.