Home Sweet Home

Almost exactly as I remember it...

November 21st, 2009

I recently went home...





Where’s home you may ask. Well they say home is where the heart is, and I left my heart back in Paso de Oro. It was right where I left it 3 months ago, and I picked it up and dusted it off when Fabiola came running towards me as I stepped off the rattling bus and onto the dusty, dirt road in front of my house...my home.



John Howard Payne beautifully captured the essence of what I have been feeling and coined the phrase when he wrote the song, “Home Sweet Home” in 1822 as part of the opera, "Clari, the Maid of Milan.”

“Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home;
A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there,
Which sought through the world is ne'er met with elsewhere.
An exile from home splendour dazzles in vain,
Oh give me my lowly thatched cottage again;
The birds singing gayly, that came at my call,
Give me them, and that peace of mind dearer than all.”

Over three months ago I promised I would come back for a visit if Paso de Oro made it to the final. After a long, successful season, and several disputes, rematches, and postponings later they finally made it to the final series, the first game of which was played on Saturday, November 21st, 2009 in Ipane. The date actually perfectly corresponded with my 3 month In Service Training I had to come in for by Tuesday anyway. The second game would be played the following Saturday, November 28th, 2009. Unfortunately I won’t be able to see this game, as I’ll be in Encarnación celebrating Thanksgiving with a ton of volunteers.

It was hot...really hot. Mary and Fabiola have a little kiddie pool in front of the house, to which I relented and agreed to enter after much begging and pleading. We cooled off and played with each other. I was a vicious shark trying to capture and eat the unsuspecting prey (Mary, Fabiola, and Jacqueline). Fabiola really got a kick out that. Most of time though I just stood outside the pool squirting them with water by positioning my thumb just right in the end of a garden hose.



The time came for us all to get ready to go to the cancha. I was pretty much dried off and was very dirty. I was also really hot. A cold shower was calling my name. Cold showers here in the summer are amazing. You don’t even want to think about a hot shower. In the winter, a cold shower (sometimes necessary when the power goes out) is torture, but in the summer it’s lovely. I made it to the shower, turned on the water...

Trickle....trickle.......trickle........(silence)

“Ok, maybe the water’s just turned off or something. A quick shout to my sister, whose now living in my old room because she has separated from her husband, supposedly because of rumors that she cheated on him, should cure the problem. She and my Dad worked on it but to no avail. The running water is out and the backup tank above the house has emptied.

These are the small inconveniences of life in the third world...Frequent, unexplainable power and water outages. If I turned on the sink ever so often I could get a few trickles so I got the bulk of the main dirt off and considered it bastante (enough) and headed to put my clothes on. Just as I had done that, the running water came back on. Haha. “And isn’t it ironic. Don’t you think? A little too ironic. And yeah I really do think...”



So I unclothed, jumped back in the cold shower, which was refreshing, and rushed to be ready before Hector.

I finished getting ready as Hector pulled his truck up to the front of the house. We all piled in the back of the truck and headed off to Ipane, a nearby town where the match was being held. It felt so right...so comfortable being back in the back of that truck with my family and friends. I remember the day when it felt odd and awkward. Those days are long gone...I’m completely integrated and comfortable now, and I actually feel like part of the family.





The match was a long defensive battle until towards the end of the game when the opposing team snuck one past our goalkeeper. It was very upsetting to say the least. To make matters worst in the final minutes they scored again ensuring our defeat.



Despite the loss I had a good time just being back at the cancha with my family. I split my time evenly among all the different clicks within the family who were sitting close to each other but not all together.



Nothing has changed...well nothing at the cancha at least.

My sister Mirian still yelled at the players and referees in guaraní in between gossipping and commentating to her friends. “Did you hear that such and such walked down the street the other day with such and such? Oh David has the ball. He needs pass it. FUERZA DAVID! (David gets fouled but it doesn’t get called)…Son of a Blaaaaaaaank referee.” My sister-in-law still yelled out obscenities and rushed over behind the goalkeeper during pivotal moments and got all heated. “Hey you bald referee! Go jerk off on a cactus!” Fabiola still pestered my sister for every snack available at the cancha including donuts, ice cream, soda, and popcorn, and Mary still observed the game patiently and silently.



After the game we all rushed back to Hector’s truck and quickly got out of town, probably for fear of fights and other forms of game associated violence, which are pretty frequent.

Of course my mom and sister made empanadas that night and a crowd of people gathered at my house to watch soccer on TV and socialize. The empanadas weren’t as great this time because they were made with prepackaged flour tortillas instead of made from scratch mandioca tortillas. Apparently, there is a big shortage of mandioca, which is ridiculous considering it is the most important food in Paraguay. I mean my Dad even said once that without mandioca, it’s really not a meal.



That night was also the Quinceañera of Carlos’, one of my fellow volunteers, host sister. My family was invited. I took a nap because it had been a long day and I knew it would be a long night. I told Paulo to come get me at 11:30 PM so we could head out. I set my alarm on my phone and dozed off for a nap in preparation for the long night ahead. I woke up at 1:00 AM. The alarm never went off. Must have been set for 11:00 AM. By the time I showered, my Sister and Mom had already gone and returned from the party. The music was still going so I went regardless. At the very least I could hang out with Carlos for a bit. I got there around 2:00 AM and the party was still hopping.

It’s the funniest thing to watch Paraguayans dancing sometimes. They dance in no particular uniform way but they do form a uniform straight line rather than just one big blob of dancers like we do in the states. Maybe it’s logical. Maybe it prevents bump-ins and the like. Carlos, Arelio, my sister-in-law, and my two nieces danced like it was 1999 until about 4 AM, when we heard Paraguay’s infamous party’s over song. It’s a specific Paraguayan polka song that they always play last. I say it’s cool they have a song to signify the end of the party. Mary says the Paraguayans are too dumb to know when to go home so that’s why they have to have a recognized last song. Haha. She said it...not me.

The next night I received a call from Liz, a fellow volunteer who had also arrived early, saying I should come to the cancha. It was great fun catching up with Liz and dancing with everyone until David’s brother (David is Liz’s Paraguayan boyfriend who she’s absolutely smitten with), got into a fight in which a bottle was broken on his face. After a few pretty rough blows, David and his other brothers managed to rescue him from the fight, but just seconds later someone starting shooting. They fired off a few rounds. I looked at Paulo and said, “Vamos rapido” (Let’s go quickly). I just so happened to be with the group that the gunmen wanted to shoot out so I was trying to get out of dodge as quickly as possible. Paulo and I got out really quickly and were briskly walking down the sandy, dark path to the sound of more gunfire. That should be enough to end a party right? Well I guess Mary might have been right. Paraguayans might be too dumb to know when to go home after all, because Paulo and I didn’t get a quarter mile from the cancha when we heard the DJ try to hype up the crowd and started playing music again. Gunfire won’t clear the party but the Paraguayan polka song will. Que bárbaro!

I was home for a total of six days. Much was the same as I remembered it the last time, and I imagine it will be for some time. My Mom has said she wants to die in that house. “Si Dios quiere” (God willing). The family carried on with the same routines and rituals. Mom still made empanadas Saturday and Sunday night. Dad still drank terere under the shade tree in the mid-morning and late afternoon. Hector still drank caña late into the night on the benches near the work shed. But there were some fairly major changes that had happened in the 3 months since I left.

My Sister, who was living in Ipane with her boyfriend of 14 years with whom she has a child, had very recently separated and moved all her stuff back home and into my old room. Of course I didn’t mind. She is the real daughter after all. She brought some lindo stuff with her...a new refrigerator, which she keeps stocked better than my Mom does, automatic washing machine, Playstation 2, a broken down computer, a nice bed and an armoire. Darwen, my nephew, is sharing the room and bed with his mother, which I bet makes for a better, more intimate mother-son relationship.

They take naps together, watch movies together, play games together, etc... She’s getting to spend so much quality time with him.

Also we have, or should I say had, a new pet monkey. The monkey was found hanging out in some nearby trees. My sister-in-law snagged it with a t-shirt after luring it in with chipa, the very traditional bread-like Paraguayan food. While I was there the monkey escaped. My Dad tried for an hour or so to lure the monkey back in but to no avail this time. You see monkeys are smart and this one had learned its lesson. While I was there, they didn’t recapture it so it’s likely we no longer have the pet monkey.



Paulo had a brand new smile and a fresh summer haircut. Education and adoption of good dental hygiene is severely lacking in Paraguay. Paulo’s teeth were really jacked up when I left but since then his Dad had payed for him to get them fixed. His 12-year-old Sister, Jacqueline, also has really jacked up teeth but refuses to go to the dentist because she’s scared. Almost all her teeth have blacked out spots on them. It’s a pity. Her sister Jesika has great teeth and says Jacqueline’s teeth are the result of not brushing frequently and eating a lot of sweets. I told her family to drag her to the Dentists even if she were kicking, screaming and crying and force her to have them fixed. She would thank them later.

Hector now has fully functional air condition in his room, which he proudly showed off to Carlos and I. That’s a real luxury especially if you consider their living conditions. You may remember pictures of my house, and think that’s not so bad. Though in the same family and just a few hundred yards away, Hector and his family are living in true poverty. He wheeled and dealed a bit and managed to pick up a broken down, yet salvageable American brand old-school window air unit for cheap. My brother fixed and installed it for him. He says the incremental monthly costs aren’t much. He works really hard in the heat all day and deserves a good night’s sleep in the comfort of air conditioning. I’m super happy for him.

Mirian has separated yet again from her husband, Eladio. Their relationship is somewhat like some High School relationships. It’s on and off...breakup, makeup. Right now they’re off and broke up. Eladio has moved back to his Mother’s house at Kilometer 22, which isn’t too far away. Fabiola, 5 years old, doesn’t really care and asked Mary why she cries so much over her father that doesn’t cry over her but instead makes her cry. There’s a thought provoking question posed by a 5 year old. The pattern is something like this. Come back home. All is good for a little bit but inevitably he gets into a fight with Mirian, usually while drunk. Says hurtful things. Everyone minus Fabiola and Eladio cries. Eladio runs back home to his Mom. Stay there a bit. Come back home. Repeat process.

Mirian now has a job selling clothes in Asunción in a store owned by someone in Eladio’s family. She says she likes working but the days are long and her feet hurt from standing up all day without any breaks. I think deep inside though, the feeling of independence and pride from earning money for her family probably trumps the sore feet so she keeps standing, both literally and figuratively.

Mirian working in the city means laundry duty is left to my Mom. Nilda helps when she can but also works selling jewelry. Since she allows people to pay in small monthly installments she spends a lot of time making house visits to collect. You should see her little notepad with chicken scratch she uses to keep track of customer accounts. It’s pathetic but it’s a system that works well for her and which the customers somehow trust. Mom still prefers to wash most the clothes by hand, I guess stuck in her traditional ways, claiming that the automatic washer doesn’t get the clothes as clean.

Augusto is working harder and longer hours. It’s beginning to get hot, which means demand for air condition installations and repairs is way up. He leaves the house around 5:30 and often doesn’t get back until midnight or sometimes later. He finally has his moto back and he also has a work truck to drive.

Jacqueline was forced to quit her English lessons because her Dad didn’t have the money to keep sending her. But she’s been assured she can resume sometime next year.

Other highlights from the week include:

• Playing soccer penalty kicks with Mary, Darwen, and Jacquelin
• Watching a Michael Jackson movie with Darwen
• Going on a long jog with Jesika (I recently found out she spells it that way)
• Hanging out with the family in Hector’s work shed
• Chasing the chickens and ducks around with a broom trying to get them back inside the fenced in area after Mary left the gate open when she was showing me piles of eggs

Although a lot has changed within the family, they are all still the loving, fun people I remember them to be. We picked up right where we left off, and it was a great week.

80's Halloween Bash!

October 30th, 2009

Jesus, the Muni Volunteer in neighboring Villa Florida, hosted a Halloween/Birthday Fundraising Party. It was 5,000 Gs ($1) to get in and drinks were 5,000 Gs (80 cents) each. (Yeah a beer here is $1, and that's with the 20 cent markup for fundraising profits!)

The Municipal Development group is having a leadership camp in Janurary so they are in the midst of raising funds. I'm excited to attend this camp because I may plan something similar for San Juan, and I would like to see one in action, so that I can learn from the successes and failures of the camp and generate ideas for how to plan and structure my own should I end up pursuing that idea in the future. This year's camp will focus on introducing youth to leadership principles in the context of volunteerism in order to start creating a culture and spirit of volunteerism in Paraguay.

It was an 80's themed Halloween party. I brought along several of my Paraguayan friends, and helped them create their costumes. I did some research online and came up with some examples of costumes we could create using free and locally available materials. I almost went as the dark side of Karate Kid (kind of like the dark spidey from Spider Man 3 concept). I had a friend who loaned me a black Karate robe and it would have been easy to make the sunburst bandanna. In the end, Juanjo really liked how cool the Blues Brothers outfit looked and had 2 black suits so I abandoned my inner Karate Kid and opted for Elwood, (the cooler, fatter, more funny me).





I borrowed the hat from a friend of Harry's, the tie and sunglasses from Peke, the white shirt from Pancho, and the suit and shoes from Juanjo.



Peke went as David Hodo, the constructor from the Village People, the group who sang the popular hit YMCA. The lady who owns the hardware store, whom I have befriended, loaned me a constructor hat, and a cooperative cable technician loaned me his tool belt, which rounded out Peke's costume.

Harry, named after his father who was a Peace Corps Volunteer who fell for a P`raguayan girl which he impregnated (hence Harry) and abandoned in Paraguay, went dressed in typical 80's fashion...note bubble vest and fingerless gloves. Sadly, Harry's father left his son in Paraguay and was later murdered in Mexico.



Juanjo and I won best costume. The prize was a CD of the best of the 80s and 2 packs of fruit flavored Mentos, the freshmaker.

The party was a bit disappointing, but we had a lot of fun regardless. I imagined a house party full of Volunteers in crazy costumes playing beer pong, flip cup, singing Karaoke, dancing, etc... I had really talked up the party to my Paraguayan friends, who anxiously waited about an hour and a half for a bus that was going towards Villa Florida to get there. Upon arrival we realized the party was in a giant rented out indoor soccer stadium, which made the small quantity of people in attendance appear even smaller.

I'm determined to deliver a first class, American style party to my Paraguayan friends. I guess I'll have to host a party once I have my own house. Despite the fact that the party was vastly different from what I had expected we had a lot of fun.







Peke stole a kiss from Julie, a volunteer who had recently returned from a 6 month medical leave to the States from a foot injury.



After the party ended at about 4 AM we headed to Jesus' two story pad to continue the Halloween festivities. There we just sat around talking and listening to music before passing out in the early morning. Harry fell in love with Julie. Julie...well, Julie was a good sport.





Paraguayans have amazing party stamina. They will often not arrive to the club until 1 or 2 in the morning and will party through the late afternoon.

This is what the Volunteers were doing at 5:00 AM.



This is a picture of what the Paraguayans were doing at the same time.





Haha.

Tai Night

October 17th, 2009

The next day Analia, Yaz, Anne, and I all went out to Claire’s site, which is about 5 miles away from San Juan. Analia and Yaz’s parents took us out in their truck.

But before I get to that, I’d like to describe the events just before we left to go to Claire’s house. It was apparently Liberal day because the Liberales (the other major democratic party) were going crazy all over the city. Bombs were exploding and liberal music boomed from cars parading around town. A giant line of beeping cars adorned in blue and white (the liberal colors) paraded through San Juan, and there was also a big Liberal party that everyone was headed to.

People really support their political parties here in a very public way. It’s not town hall meetings or candidates out pressing the flesh or even a caucus or sponsored event. It’s half the town or more parading around, making noise, and partying in support of their party. I think it’s great that they get involved so much and at least care enough to do something to show their support.

I’ve asked several times what the differences are between the Colorados and the Liberales, and no one has been able to tell me. As far as I can tell, it’s just an affiliation you are born into and there may not be a ton of political ideological differences. I think it’s more like an alliance. I’ll explain. The Colorados have been in power for the last 40 years. You couldn’t get a government job if you were not Colorado. You couldn’t even lie and tell them you were Colorado because either your last name gave you away or you had registered as a Liberal. So all the teachers, all the people that work in public offices, all the low-level government officials...they’re all Colorado. In this way, your political party wasn’t a choice based on your personal ideologies or candidates you sided with more, it was more something you were born into and if you were lucky enough to be born a Colorado, you had a better chance at most jobs. If you weren’t and had the ability to change, it was a job strategy.

This is now reaping effects on the new Liberal administration. All the leaders changed over to Liberal but all their subordinates, who have years of experience and by this time are fiercely loyal to their party, are Colorado. You can imagine how difficult it must be to get things done.

Paraguay was and is very corrupt. You might initially think this would change with a new administration and new leadership, but what I’ve been told is that the Colorados have had years to stuff their pockets with dirty money, and now it’s the Liberals’ chance to get rich. What a mess...

Anyway that’s all I have to say about that for now.

Back to the story at hand...



This time we made Tai food. It was like a spicy vegetable stir-fry with white rice in a lettuce wrap. Most Paraguayans aren’t used to spicy food so Analia and Yaz were going crazy and between the two of them drank a liter of milk. By our standards it wasn’t really spicy but by theirs it was like nuclear at Zaxby’s.

The meal was really delicious. I talk about food so much because delicious meals are so hard to come by here and it’s the thing I miss most about the States. For the most part I don’t eat very much (my host family doesn’t eat dinner and breakfast is a glass of juice or a cup of coffee), and when I do eat it usually isn’t anything to write home about, or at least write home in a positive light about.

Anyway on the way back Analia, Yaz and Anne got dropped off at the Liberal party. I didn’t go because Volunteers aren’t supposed to be associated with any political party, which was a perfect excuse for not going, being that I didn’t really feel like going out.

But in all seriousness I’m not supposed to get involved in politics or associate myself with either party. I can’t attend demonstrations or political events. My host family situation complicates this because they are die-hard Colorados. On several occasions I have walked out to our patio to see what was going on only to see huge Red (the party’s color) flags flying, Colorado music playing, bombs being set off to announce the event, and tons of people talking politics. Just the other night my host mother hosted a political fundraiser in which they sold hamburgers to raise money for a particular candidate they want to get elected.

One time I walked outside and saw a few people sitting around a table with a man in the center speaking most eloquently and persuasively in front of a press-like camera...picture the scenes from the Osama Bin Laden videos but without the long beards and Muslim attire.

Sometimes I hear my host Dad speaking softly in Guaraní over the phone and other times there are groups of adults huddled around a table talking politics. I like to imagine I’m in a house of people planning a secret, government overthrow or imagine this is what it must have been like for communists planning a revolution. It’s not the reality, but it just feels that way sometimes, and I like to allow my imagination to run wild because it’s more interesting that way.

The fact that my host parents are probably the most die-hard Colorado supporters in San Juan combined with the fact that there is a big, red sticker that says, “We are Colorados here” above my door, which accesses the street, probably makes me a Colorado in the minds of most people in town.

We've had a Mexican Night and a Thai Night. Next up...Italian Night!!!

Paraguay vs. Colombia Game

October 15th, 2009

I decided the day of at about 1:00 PM (bus set to leave at 2:00 PM) to go to the Paraguay vs. Colombia game in Asunción. A lack of plata (money) and a looming presentation were complicating my decision to go, but in the end the thought of seeing Paraguay play in a World Cup qualifier in Asunción with a bunch of friends won out over work and money. What put me over the top was talking to Chris who said I should come and that I could crash at his place, which is really close to Asunción.

Yet another great decision. I had a great time.

I came home from the cooperative, hurriedly packed my bag and headed off to meet up with Analia to catch the bus to Asunción.

When we arrived, we had to drop Analia’s bag by Rosa’s house. On the way there, it started pouring rain. It took us walking under my raincoat for about 5 minutes before I realized I had my umbrella in the side pocket of my backpack. We dropped the bag off at Rosa’s, and then the three of us headed to the Palace, where I was going to leave my bag during the game.



Shortly after dropping my bag off and me changing into my Paraguayan jersey, we headed to a sports bar not 2 blocks from the Palace. When I walked up, the bar was filled with Volunteers in Paraguayan jerseys and everyone had big towers of beer at their tables. We hung out there for just a bit and then headed out for the game.

I bought 60-mil ticket off a guy on the street for 50 mil, and with that the fun began. As we were approaching the stadium, I had to take off my belt and conceal it underneath the band of my boxers since belts are not allowed in the stadium. What does that tell you?

I was worried they were going to find it and confiscate my only belt but we walked through without even being checked. No pat downs, no metal detector, nothing. We just cruised right through.

Upon entering the stadium, I was amazed by the atmosphere....a bouncing sea of red and white, flags flying, plastic bats being shaken in the air, huge Coca-Cola banners covering entire sections, and chants being belted in one, unified Paraguayan voice to the tune of loud drums. I can’t imagine what World Cup is going to be like!



Paraguay and Colombia went head to head for the last qualifying match for the 2010 World Cup in South Africa.



Even though the Colombians handed it to us, we still had a great time jumping around and chanting, “Albi albi albi roja albi roja.” Not only did we lose but Argentina won, which meant they had qualified for an appearance in the World Cup. As the rivalry is so heated, everyone wanted to see the big, bad Argentina sit this one out. Either way, it was great to see a game in person. It will be a while before another game is played in that stadium so I’m glad I seized the opportunity. At the end of the day Paraguay is headed to South Africa and so am I!!!



After the game, we went back to Chopería to hang out. There was a live band, which provided for a really cool atmosphere. A Volunteer who has been here for 2 years, Analia, Rosa, Claire, and I all went down the street for some Lomito Arabe (beef gyro). It was great late-night food.

Later when we returned to the bar, I had some interesting conversations with a few Volunteers. One volunteer did her undergrad at Cornell and her MPA at Columbia. She then worked in a variety of organizations in microfinance and nonprofit before coming to the Peace Corps. She was really knowledgeable and interesting to talk to. She imparted some wisdom that will cause me to make some tough decisions. The good news is she says Peace Corps is great on a resume and will open a lot of doors, especially in the non-profit world. She said she used to love to hire Peace Corps Volunteers. She said if I were interested in pursing a MPA (Masters of Public Administration), Peace Corps would be enough from a work experience perspective to get me in. As I am looking to do a MBA with possibly a dual MPA degree, I’ll ultimately have to get a few more years of experience before matriculating. Nevertheless she dropped some good ideas on me and gave me a few fresh perspectives that I needed to hear but which has me in deep introspection about how to spend my time while here and what to do when I leave Peace Corps.

Around 2:00 AM, Chris, his Paraguayan friend, and myself headed out to find a bus back to his place. We walked to several corners where we waited briefly for a bus before heading to the next place there was “sure to be a bus.” After several attempts like this, we passed a bar and the bar-owner told us that a bus would pass by there at 3:00 AM. Since we had a while to wait, we went inside and played a few games of pool. Remember Hora Paraguaya? 3:00 AM...No Bus. 3:15 AM...No Bus. 3:30 AM...No Bus. 3:45 AM...No Bus. Around 4:00 AM I was ready to go and had in good faith that the bus was not coming, so I hailed a taxi and spent 60 mil getting us to Chris’ place. The whole reason I stayed with him was to avoid spending 66 mil on a hotel room for the night...HAHA.

It turned out well because the next day I had a great time hanging out with Chris.

He took me by his counterpart, which is a big community center where they train and develop youth and give technical skills courses to the community. Chris told me all about a leadership camp he is developing and how he got it funded. I’m going to go to the leadership camp, not only because it will be fun and I’ll likely facilitate a few sessions, but also because it will be a great learning opportunity in case I decide to do a leadership camp in San Juan.

We went for lunch at a humongous grocery store, and had interesting conversation about Che Guevara’s life and his part in the communist revolution in Cuba. Chris had read up a lot on Che, so he was well versed and he has a knack for story telling. It’s pretty incredible how the whole thing went down. If you’re interested in that kind of stuff, I would recommend checking out some books about Che and Fidel Castro. It’s actually a really interesting story.

After lunch we played a few games of pool at an indoor/outdoor style bar near Chris’ places and then went back to his place. We had a lot of great conversation about Peace Corps, development projects, our personal lives, etc...

Soon after, I bussed it back to the Peace Corps office where I dropped off my payment for the Thanksgiving bash, and then went to the terminal where I caught the long bus back home.

All in all, it was a great trip. I made a few new friends, saw Paraguay play, had a lot of fun, and had some really interesting and educational conversations.

Motocross Race

October 11th, 2009

This was another very unexpected event. When I was told there was going to be a moto race, I envisioned people standing on the side of a highway watching a few motorcycles racing down a straightaway.

It also took me by surprise because I just didn’t envision going to motocross races as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

Panfilo, a coworker, told me the previous day he was going to come pick me up to take me to the race. His cousin was in the race, which was why he was particularly excited about it. He was supposed to pick me up at 2:00 PM. I had several other friends invite me to go with them, but since I had already committed to going with Panfilo, I denied, and waited on him.

He never came.

In this way I confirmed a suspicion I had about many Paraguayans. It’s really normal for them to not keep their word. I know it also happens a lot in the US, but it happens here at a whole different level. For example, my host mother said she was going to wash my clothes one day. Two weeks later I had to take a small load to the laundry-mat in order to have something to wear to my presentation, and sit my laundry basket in the middle of the kitchen before it got done. Another example...my host father said several times he was going to move my light switch to beside the door and put a lock on my door. That has still yet to happen, and just today I bought the lock myself, and am going to have someone come over to install it. I hear tons of Volunteer stories of them scheduling a meeting with someone or a group of people who never show.

You also have to understand the “Hora Paraguaya.” They are not very prompt, which actually is fine with me most of the time. If you schedule something, even something really formal, expect it to actually get started a solid 45 minutes to an hour late. It’s just all part of the really relaxed culture I think. Really, it’s fine by me, because I’m not in any hurry here, and I don’t have to stress about being somewhere by a certain time.

Example...The other night, Anne took a bus from her site to San Juan to meet up with us for some dinner. The bus was supposed to leave at 7:00 PM on the dot. It left around 7:40 PM.

They recognize it as part of their culture, referring to it as the “Hora Paraguaya,” (Paraguayan Hour). The Administrative Manager in the Cooperative even said, when referring to my presentation, that if it were scheduled for 9:00 AM, it would get started around 10:00 AM, which is exactly how it happened. After saying that, she said, “Hora Paraguaya.” It was comical when 9:10 AM rolled around and only my APCD, Volunteer Coordinator, and myself were in the room. Not a single person showed up on time, and the general manager, who should be setting the example, was the last to arrive at around 9:50 AM. I just couldn’t help but think that I was a very low priority on his list especially when he was answering phone calls in the middle of my boss’s presentation. It’s a great example of cross cultural business interactions. It could very well be that another Paraguayan wouldn’t think twice about it, let along consider it rude or a representation of priorities.

Anyway, back to the story at hand, the motocross event. So when I realized he wasn’t going to show up, I decided to ride my bicycle to the race. When I arrived, I was surprised to see that instead of being a straightaway track, it was actually the motocross style track (without the jumps).

It was a really cool atmosphere. Imagine a radio style stage booming music and occasionally announcing over the speakers. There were people all around the edges of the track and in the middle. The sound of motos revving and the smell of their exhaust permeated the atmosphere. I wandered around for a bit until Peke and his friends spotted me and called me over. I hung with them for a while and then headed over to where some of my coworkers were hanging out.

While I was hanging out with Peke and his friends, they started horsing around. The biggest, Gonzalo slammed the smallest, Ernesto down to the ground. He smacked the ground headfirst pretty hard and was slow to get up. He had to be transported to the local hospital by ambulance, and was then taken to Asunción for some test, because a few months earlier he had a really serious motorcycle accident, which fractured something in his spinal column. I didn’t actually find this out until mid way through the race when I called Peke to see where he was at, to which he responded the hospital with Ernesto. I’m happy to say that as of writing this Ernesto is up and about. It wasn’t too serious and he was just given a few days bed rest.

Back to the race...before too long, it started pouring down rain. Igual no más. It was actually nice because it settled the dust and dropped the temperature. Plus I had my handy Marmot Rain Jacket on because I noticed it was likely to rain.

Soon after the rain quit, the races started, and we had fun drinking and talking while watching them go around the track.

The most exciting thing of the day was when everyone started running to the other side of the track to watch a fight. Apparently they had bet a lot of money on the race, and someone from San Juan threw something at the racer from San Ignacio. That caused a big fight. I actually saw a few fists land. Three cops walked up. But here, that doesn’t mean much. The fighting calmed down, but no one went to jail. They continued pushing and arguing, and it kind of fizzled out slowly.

Like I said earlier, when it comes to competition, sports are like politics in Paraguay...corrupt. It’s my experience that they will attempt to cheat in a heartbeat and are quick to argue and fight.

Guess who was the main guy in the middle of the fight? Yep...Panfilo. I guess that’s Karma.

Paraguay vs. Venezuela

October 10th, 2009

I watched the game with some coworkers in their house out in Barrio Primero de Enero (1st of January). Lot’s of neighborhoods, towns, football teams, soccer stadiums, etc...are named for their founding date...again the creativity issue.

Anyway, when I walked into the house I saw an alligator skin handing from the wall. My friend from work, Oveshai (lamb) said he hunted and killed that. They say gator meat is great. I looked over to the table and there was a taxidermy armadillo. He said it killed that too. We walked over to the big ice-chest style fridge to store the beer, and he had to reposition the beer around a cow’s head and pieces of carpincho meat. I tried not to think about drinking from the lips of bottles that had been lying against raw cow and carpincho meat and told them I wanted to go hunting with them the next time they went.

For reference, this is a carpincho.



The game was pretty boring as we were already qualified and easily handled Venezuela 2-1. Nevertheless, it was still fun hanging out with some of my coworkers and seeing them in their natural environment. After the game we just sat around for a while talking about a future fishing trip they want to take me on. They told me it would cost us around 100,000 Gs ($25) for a day of fishing including gas, lots of food and drinks, and all supplies needed. We both know that isn’t much, but I tried convincing them that was really high and I didn’t know if I could afford it. I’m trying to combat the common perception that we must earn a lot of money since we chose to leave the States to come here.

Other topics included, let’s see what is pretty much the only topic Paraguayan males discuss with me?...oh yeah girls.

We threw my bike in the back of a truck and headed back towards town. When we arrived we were surprised to see a ton of people at the town plaza watching the motocross racers doing wheelies in the middle of the plaza. As we first drove up, I saw one of them suffer a nasty crash, and with that our attention was caught so we parked and joined the excitement. Music mixed with the loud revving dirtbike/moto engines to make for a pretty loud atmosphere. Smoke filled the air and people were everywhere. The next day’s racers were popping wheelies all over the place.

Let’s Get together and feel alright at Reggae Fest!

September 26th, 2009

The Wailers, Bob Marley’s band, came to Paraguay and put on a great show!

When I got a text saying there was going to be a Reggae Fest in Asunción and was asked if I wanted to come, I was like, “Yeah, why not? That sounds awesome!”

Add that to my list of great decisions. I’m sure this outdoor concert will go down as one of the coolest experiences I have as a Peace Corps Volunteer.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. First came the bus 3-hour bus ride on Friday afternoon to Asunción, which was really fun because....well I could be doing worse things than traveling through the Paraguayan countryside with two cool friends, while listening to my IPod. I just remember being so content in that moment. I remember thinking, “I have no worries, I’m a Peace Corps Volunteer, and I’m in the middle of Paraguay on a bus listening to Motion City Soundtrack headed for a weekend of fun and a Reggae concert.”



When we arrived in Asunción, we went to at this place called Quattro D. We treated ourselves to amazing chicken lasagna and some ice cream, and then Claire headed for the Peace Corps office, and Yaz tagged along with me to the mall. I wanted to buy bedding and possibly curtains, but ended up not buying them because they were really expensive and I couldn’t figure out how to pay in cash because the ATM has a small limit and was going to charge me 25,000 Gs for every transaction. If I paid in cash I was going to receive a 10% discount for being foreign. I was also trying to figure out how to meet the requirements in order to sign up for the store card, which would give me an additional 20% off. It added up to an $88 savings, which is a crap load for me at this point.

Regardless, we had a lot of fun just browsing around the mall gazing at the things we couldn’t afford.



That night I went out for dinner and drinks with several Volunteers who were in town for the concert. We went to the Brit Pub. For the first part of the night I was having a good time, but then I become tired, and that was all she wrote.

The night of the concert started outside the Alps Attic, a popular hotel for Peace Corps Volunteers in Asunción.



A fun and interesting American girl who decided to move here to write a guidebook to Paraguay picked us all up in her van. We packed in tight and headed out for the concert. Picture a minivan with about 13 people packed in. People are on each other’s laps and Will and I are crammed in the hatch. But we didn’t care. Igual no más.

I couldn’t help but think of foreshadowing as the song by The Black Eyed Peas that goes, “I’ve got a feelin’ that tonight’s gonna be a good night, that tonight’s gonna be a good night that tonight’s gonna be a good good night. I got a feelin’,” played over the radio in a van full of really cool, interesting Peace Corps Volunteers headed to a Reggae concert in Paraguay!

Many of the people in the car hate that song for it’s idiotic lyrics, but I secretly liked it, and thought it was a great kickoff for the night and foreshadowing of what was to come.

Shortly after arriving, we all scarfed down some hamburgers at a little stand outside the concert, and then jumped into the sea of people heading towards the entrance.



“Leche, Leche, Leche,” which means “milk, milk, milk,” screamed the hustlers selling beer outside the concert. Gypsies were sitting on the ground selling their hand crafted necklaces, wallets, bracelets, and other accessories. Nappy braids, Bob Marley tee shirts, psychedelic colors, and hippie chicks were everywhere. We don’t see a lot of diversity here, so it was a familiar and welcomed site.

Immediately upon entering the concert, I knew this was going to be a chill night. We stood in a circle towards the back of the crowd and talked, danced, and drank. Then we moved in closer.



As the night progressed sometimes we danced and other times we just sat in a big circle and had really interesting conversation. There was an atmosphere of friendliness and brotherhood in the air already, and the Wailers hadn’t even taken the stage yet.



People were freely sharing and interacting across their respective clicks.

Once the Wailers hit the stage, the night turned from chill to magical.

There is no way I can capture the feeling of goofily dancing around with friends to the sound of,

Singin': "don't worry 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right."
Singin': "don't worry (don't worry) 'bout a thing,
'Cause every little thing gonna be all right!"

Or to

We're jammin':
I wanna jam it wid you.
We're jammin', jammin',
And I hope you like jammin', too.



Cell phones were hoisted and waving in the air (reminiscent of Woodstock) and a Jamaican and Paraguayan flag swaying, crossing in the wind, forming a symbol of international peace as the Wailers sang:

Emancipate yourself from the mental slavery;
None but ourselves can free our minds.
Have no fear for atomic energy,
cuz none of them can stop the time.
How long shall they kill our profits?
While we stand aside and look? Ooh!
Some say it’s just a part of it:
We’ve got to fulfill de Book.

Won’t you help to sing?
These songs of freedom? -
Cause all I ever have:
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs,
Redemption songs.

WATCH THIS VIDEO



I thought the following were especially relevant lyrics for Paraguay:

Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Get up, stand up, stand up for your rights
Get up, stand up, don't give up the fight “



And of course, the highlight of the night:

“One love, one heart,
Let’s get together and feel alright.
Hear the children cryin’, (one love)
Hear the children cryin’ (one heart)
Sayin,’ “give thanks and praise to the Lord and I will feel alright,”
Sayin,’ “let’s get together and feel alright.”

And that’s exactly what we did. We all got together and we felt all right.



Highlights from the following day include an amazing breakfast at the hotel and relaxing by the pool. Again...Livin' the Dream!

Yet Another Awesome Paraguayan Holiday

September 21st, 2009

Dia de Juventud Festival (Parade, Beauty Pageant, and Concert)

So I was totally caught off guard by what took place on this holiday.

It was Dia de Juventud (Youth Day) and all day people had been wishing me “Felicidades.” The closest translation I can come up with for what they were saying is, “Happy Youth Day.” On this day, Paraguay celebrates its Youth and parents buy their kids gifts. Depending on where you live, there could also be a whole host of festivities associated with the holiday.

I was plugging away at my laptop in my office at the cooperative at about 3:00 PM in the afternoon when I started hearing bombs and tons of people gathering outside. Then some of my coworkers told me to come to the window to watch the parade. “Oh, another parade,” I thought to myself. Having seen many “parades” before, I thought this would be your typical line of cars and motos (mopeds) driving down the street honking horns and playing music. Much to my surprise when I went to the window I saw decorated floats full of smiling youth. The floats represented different schools and organizations and each featured a Queen, who had apparently been elected to represent their organization for the day’s festivities.

At around 4:00 PM, I left the Cooperative, and rushed home to get my camera. I quickly returned and managed to snap a few shots before the parade was over.







By this point, everyone was gathering in the plaza, and I noticed a big stage in the middle of the plaza. I walked around talking to people I knew and snapping photos. Then I went home to change out of my work clothes and returned for the rest of the festivities, which included a beauty pageant and a concert by the hottest band in Paraguay at the moment.







The beauty pageant featured around 16 or so girls who each answered 2 questions and walked down the runway. Hearing their answers to the questions raises both an educational and cultural point. Each girl was asked to give a brief speech to the youth. Every girl said almost the exact same thing in almost the exact same way. Culturally, this is totally acceptable. In one of my earlier blogs I mentioned the lack of individuality, creativity, and critical thinking within the educational system. I also mentioned how Paraguayans always copy each other. Every dispensa is almost exactly like every other dispensa. They all serve the same things, prepared in the same way. There is a real lack of creativity and individuality. I’m not judging whether that is good or bad but rather stating an observation, though if I were to judge it from my US perspective, it is less than desirable.

So the first girl started with warning about doing drugs, respecting parents, and the importance of enjoying your youth, and each girl in turn gave the exact same response. In the US, even if the next girl had prepared the exact same response, that is the last thing she would say because we have such a strong culture of individuality and would judge her poorly for saying the same thing the other girl said. Not here. All 16 said the same thing, and the crowd clapped all the same for each one of them in turn.



They were judged by a panel of 3 judges, which included Miss Paraguay, who is actually from San Juan. Her speech was much more honed, and she had a polished stage presence. I heard it was her dream to become Miss Paraguay and she worked her whole life up to that point to achieve that goal. I’m glad she set a lofty goal and worked hard to achieve it, but in my mind some of the means did not justify the end. She had a tone of plastic surgery, altering her entire body and face, and I also heard she never played or had friends growing up, and was always well dressed and very superficial in interactions. Hopefully she’s able to leverage her position to accomplish something good for Paraguay.



Eventually, the tallest and most popular (judging from the chanting teenage girls up front) won and 2 others were given lesser titles.

I don’t know how the girls were judged really because all 16 had roughly the same responses, and the 3 chosen were definitely not the prettiest, but winners were selected and that was that.

Later, they announced scholarship winners. Each year, the Gobernación, like our State Government, gives out scholarships, and they announce the winners during the Día de Juventud festivities. I was really impressed with both the fact that they were giving out scholarships and the number of scholarships that were granted.

Access to education is, in my opinion, one of the most serious detriments to economic development in Paraguay, so it’s good to see that at least some scholarships are available. Paraguay still has a long way to go in this regard in that there aren’t student loans and there are a very small number of scholarships available, but it’s at least a start. I’m thinking of pitching a project to my cooperative to give out scholarships and offer student loans, which with any luck will start a trend among cooperatives of offering scholarships and student loans. This could go a long way in giving more students the opportunity to get an education and could have a big impact if it caught on in the right way. That’s pie in the sky thinking, but hey, shoot for the stars right? I’ll let you know if it works out.

Next came the concert, which featured several bands including one of the most popular bands in Paraguay at the moment. Everyone crowded around the stage and celebrated youth in true young fashion...listening to music, drinking, and dancing the night away.








Again, I couldn’t help but think of how unexpected this all was. I expected to be living in a little shack in the country, and for sure never, ever envisioned being at a really great concert among thousands of people in my own site as a Peace Corps Volunteer. At one point I looked at Anne, and said, “Can you imagine what the Campo Volunteers would think of this? We have such a good life. Haha”

All in all, I really love Youth Day. Everyone celebrates and embraces youth, both in age and spirit. The day is very friendly and festive. Paraguayans may not be one of the more wealthy countries, but boy do they know how to enjoy life!