January 15, 2010

Riding in Carts behind Cows

Its my first day in the fields. I awake at 530 AM for the mate that is supposed to be had, should have figured that a 530 wake up call would be Paraguayan time. At 550 we commence mate, and at 600 I head to the fields. I arrive only to sit down to yet another meal. My plate piled high with corn and cheese mash and a large side of Mandio. ¨You need to eat like a man,¨ they say, then laugh, ¨today you´re doing the man´s work.¨
And its true, culturally, working in fields, or at least the clearing of the field with an ox plow is pretty much limited to men. Somehow my foreign presence breaks the boundry. We head out to the field´s, cart full of cow manure and a plow towed behind. Soon I find myself bracing the plow against the pull of the cows, make it straight. Despite the wavyness my work is applauded. ¨Nde vale,¨ exclaims in awe the owner of the ox cart, ¨Nde Guapa.¨ I can do it, he says, I am hard working.
We spend the next four hours filling in the newly made lines with bucket'fulls of manure. The sun breaks through the clouds and the heat increases the intensity of the work. My arms are numb, but it is nice. A new sort of work, fullfilling. In a few months we should have corn in the field. I have plans to make chipa guasu, or fresh corn bread with cheese, with the farmer´s wife. Finally its done. Twelve lines carved and filled with manure. Tomorrow, they say, we´ll plant. ¨Koaga, jaterere.¨Now, we terere. After all my hard work, we head back to the house for the cold, fresh yerba. They let me ride in the back of the now empty ox cart. I debate being offended that they also tell the 11 year old to join me, but decide instead to revel in the view. It compares quite well, I decide, to the majestic moments one can experience in the back of open trucks.


My new site suits me. I am happy. I have a ton of work, and the community is amped. My family is incredible, my host dad (and community contact) taking time out of his day to work in the fields for random people with me so that it is culturally appropriate, and my youngest host brother is a doll. There is not a moment where Toby does not have everyone laughing. The following are photos from the new homestead. Toby, the house from the outside (it is actually a community house built by the chinese government in a project 5 years ago...my family lives in the office, I live in another room, and we have meetings in a big classroom). Followed by a photo of the view across the street and the entrance to my room.
Its a good situation, and I will enjoy my months here. Now, I must go research goats, the newly formed agriculture commitee is determined to begin a community goat project, and since I am american, they assume I know everything about goats. I have been assigned to present on all goat needs and care and nutrition and value of possible products on monday. I know nothing about goats, except I think I heard once of one that ate a shoe. But I will learn, and I will teach, and so begins my time as a volunteer at work.

January 11, 2010

Obama (One who has moved)

Home again? Home at last? Who knows how to put it, but I have been moved. Conveniently, obama in guarani means one who has already moved, a word I can now use, and one that I always remember. Moving was a whirlwind experience. The security employee of Peace Corps was kind enough to drive me all the way to my old site to gather my things, and then take me to my new site. In the twenty minutes I had to pack at my old site, my neighbors and host family there made it clear that they thought I should stay. After all, I didn´t have an allergy, I must have had the reaction, they say, because I worked too hard on my first day, and showered when it was too hot out. A new belief nonetheless, but demonstrative of their wanting me to stay. If only I had eaten watermelon amidst the shower, then the entire Paraguayan country would say that my blood vessels exploded. But despite their greivences, I said goodbye and drove off.

My new site is located about 7 kilometers outside of Villa Rica. Its rural, on a dirt road, with beautiful mountain views, and the people I have met thus far have been amazing. They speak spanish, which is nice, because we can talk. But still rely heavily on Guarani, which means that hopefully I will successfully become tri'lingual in the next two years. I am living with a great family, who live in and take care of the community house. The house was actually built by a Chinese NGO about 5 years ago. They share a large room, there is a large classroom across the way, a decent sized storage room and a kitchen. After much lifting, moving, cleaning, sanding, re'painting and my host dad installing a ceiling fan for me, I am officially a resident of the storage room.

The community is pumped to have me, which is nice. They have a huge plan to begin a community goat farm and sell the products. First though, they must be able to raise enough pasto to feed the goats and still have enough land to raise food to live off of. Thus, we will be working together to teach crop rotation, crop partnering, and the use of green manures to restore the soil and get the needed things growing. Since my training in all of this was fairly brief (compared to my vast knowledge of now useless bee information) I have been spending a decent amount of time reading up on things. The long-term goal is really exciting though, and I am hoping I can be a big part of its success. But it will not be me alone, this afternoon an engineer is coming to help teach about pasto, and I will likely work heavily with her.

That's about all for now. My family is sweet, very protective, and fantastic. The kids are super sweet, including the little 1.5 year old Tobias. Its going to be weird to get used to being so near a town. This internet cafe is in a very fancy and complete super market! The town is also very near a German colony, so there are blond'haired blue-eyed paraguayans speaking German at my side as we speak.

Its going to be a different experience here, but I am excited. I will work to get up some pictures the next time I come to the big city. Jajotopata.