April 29, 2010

Committees, People, ... Progress?

The agriculture committee I work with is the bane, and the basis of my existence in this community. We come together every Monday afternoon to talk about agriculture, get excited about the possibility the government might give us goats, and then, well, they proceed to argue with each other until the sun goes down. I wander home in the dark with a headache.
My friends here know how much I dread these meetings, and overall it comes off as me hating the committee. But I realized something this week; it’s not the people (well, most of them) I dislike, but them TOGETHER. In small groups, they are actually quite enjoyable. Case in point: Tuesday’s field-trip.
My committee often works closely with an agent of the Paraguayan governments department of agricultural development. On Monday at the meeting, we were all invited to attend a “dia del campo” or day of talks about sugar cane in a town about an hour away. Despite the fact that the ministry was providing buses, I really did not want to go. They made me.
A 6 am start meant nothing for Paraguayan time, and our bus rolled in around 9:30 am where we shuffled towards the room where the talks were taking place. It was full… more so, PACKED. So we left. At his point the 7 people from my committee that I was with decided that they really didn’t care about sugar cane. Soooo, we went and found tractors to play on (see photo) and then ate a ton of mandarins from the fields of trees. Then we sat and Terere-d in the shade, waiting for the promised lunch.
We talked we laughed. At one point one of them opened their thermos and showed me they had replaced water with seeds for green manures they wanted for their fields. I was so proud. I showed them my bag, in which I had gathered more mandarins than I thought to share with my family back home. They laughed and another opened her purse… igual, full of mandarins. (I am eating one right now; by the way, they are delicious, sweet, and juicy).

We laughed more. We bonded. I realized that they are great…IN SMALL GROUPS. Wednesday there was another “emergency” meeting to decide what to do with the corn seeds. I strolled in and noticed that the whole group that had attended the “dia del campo” greeted me smiling more than usual, and we all chuckled a little as we reunited. It had been a good day. Totally useless in terms of technical information, but useful for me to put a perspective on what my committee really is: a group of people, working, sometimes together and more than often simply TRYING to work together, to bring change to their lives.
Wednesday’s meeting still gave me a headache, but I left giggling. If they are at a farm and snatching seeds of green manures to rejuvenate their soils rather than attending a talk on soil-destroying sugar cane, maybe they, and I, are headed somewhere positive.

P.S. In other news...


Tony disappeared from his blanket on the floor one night while I was reading... I eventually followed him in the kitchen for fear he was eating trash and found that he had somehow realized that beds were comfortable, jumped onto the guest bed, and curled up. No idea how he got this idea, he had never even been on a bed before!


This toad has been living between the guest bed and the wall for a week. I try to sweep it out but the spot is too small and this particular toad is too dang fast. Normally they puff up and stay still at the sound of the broom. Not this one, he jumps all over the place. At first his unpredictability made me hate him. Now I still think he is gross and he creeps me out, but I am trying to except his presence until I can make a Paraguayan come help me with the situation. I guess one week of harmony isn't too hard for me to deal with.

April 22, 2010

Seperate Lives

I lead two lives here in Paraguay. Well not really, they are both very much mine, including me being me, but their potential combination seems so surreal that I have deemed it impossible.

Life one: My life in site. The reason I came here, where I work and spend way more than the majority of my time. It’s a simple, but amazing life. It has its ups and its downs, but as I connect with the people more and more I remember that so does life in the States. My life here includes anyone in the community who wants to work with me, but revolves around my family. When I got to my new site, I was told there were no open houses in the community.. that is, until a family I had spent a little more than 6 hours with total invited me to live in theirs, and they would move right next door to their grandpa’s house.
It seemed too good to be true… it wasn’t. They did just that and now I live in a great house only ten feet away from what has truly become my Paraguayan family. They take care of me: when I sniffled this afternoon they were immediately at the orange tree knocking off the ripe ones to make me juice. If I ever get home late from working in the morning, they inevitably show up at my door with lunch, where instead of saying “we saw there was no way you had time to cook,” they always hand me the plate and politely request that I “try” their food. As if all of this was not enough, they guard my house, help me clean my lawn, include me in celebrations, and take wonderful care of my puppy (who is so much bigger!) when I am gone.
My life in site is a simple one, I still laugh when the turkeys and chickens climb the ladder up to the mango-tree branches they sleep in at night. My family still laughs when I sweep the toads out of my house squealing. But it’s a good life, and the one that keeps me motivated to work to help the people around me.

Life two: About once a month I find myself traveling to the big city of Asuncion, be it for a meeting, material gatherings, or a swine flu vaccination. I rarely spend more than 3 incomplete days there, and yet the time seems to pass as in a different world.
In fact, it is a different world. English dominates my time. I stay in hotel rooms that have likely not seen toads or tree frogs or tarantulas. I eat at restaurants with menu’s that include things like shish-ka-bobs, “the American classic” hamburger, and teramisu. I rush about, taking no mid-day siesta, and go to fancy offices to collect papers, free garden seeds, or information for my site. Ironic considering the majority of people in my site could never consider living the life I live as I gather the materials. It’s a break. It’s a relief. It keeps me grounded. But I must admit, no matter the fun I have with the food or the English, or being able to spend time with friends, I am always ready to get back to my other life.

Returning home (to site), its like the time in Asuncion never happened. I pop popcorn for dinner as the turkeys and chickens saunter up the mango trees. I talk about the weather with my grandpa. My neighbors ask what I learned while I was gone. Then I sweep out the toads, and go to bed in my safari-style mosquito net content at the normalcy and balance I have slowly settled into while living in Paraguay.


Tony has gotten bigger!


He spends half his time jumping into my lap to be pet.


Mom, these are the chickens that snuck past me while I was on the phone with you. They lay two eggs. I gave them to my family, the next night they made me two fried eggs for dinner: what goes around comes around!


My people in the city! Who I spend most of my time with in my second life.


The mandarins growing outside my house are now ripe and delicious!


Me and Kendall on a date that was crashed by 6 others during training, more time in the city!

April 8, 2010

Chipa´s weather powers

As I sweltered in the heat, in the sun, and in the shade about two weeks, I was told “Just wait until after Semana Santa… its like, we make chipa and its hot, and then after we finish the chipa, it gets cold.” As I sat trying to drink enough terere to compensate for the water leaving my body despite my sitting in the shade, I laughed off the idea.
Then I proceeded to make a ton of chipa, and eat far too much as well. Semana Santa is Easter week in Latin America. In Ecuador this means large parades and church visits, I’ve heard that in Argentina this means fancy vacations to mountain towns… In Paraguay, Semana Santa means tons and tons of chipa, a bit of sopa paraguaya, and various types of grilled, freshly slaughtered, meats. With school and work off, the end of the week is left free for cooking festivities. Wednesday afternoon my family and I mixed the corn flour, mandioca flour, milk, eggs, cheese, and pig fat to make over 100 pieces of chipa. Thursday I helped another family mix the same ingredients, but with more milk and onions, to make sopa to be cooking in the ta-ta-kua (or large circular brick oven) with the sopa. Friday I worked on eating all of the sopa and chipa that everyone had given me. By Saturday and Sunday, Easter celebration is pretty much over around these parts (yes its ironic), but there is still chipa.
As I continued to receive chipa from almost every household (and hid the sour chipa made with rotten cheese…), the chipa became drier and drier, and I continued sweating in the heat. And then I finished my chipa… and honestly… it got freaking cold. No lie.
I still like chipa (a rarity among my volunteer friends here), but I will now eat it in amazement at its power. I have never experienced a more rapid temperature change in my life. I went from sleeping with my fan on, no sheets, to being slightly cold under my sheets, a snuggie, and in my sleeping bag. The sun still burns, but the shade now gives you chills. Easter has passed up north, and surely Spring has sprung. The Chipa for Easter week in Paraguay has O-pa’d (finished, Guarani), and winter is blowing in.
For now I keep busy in my fleece pants and sweatshirts (wondering what I am going to wear when it “Really gets cold”) by presenting a cow nutrition charla with my friend Jordan, and cleaning and preparing the school garden with students and families. Next week I’m headed back to the training ground for Guarani and technical classes. On the activity list for my free day in Asuncion: actively seeking out the very fuzzy tiger blanket my training family had. Winter without heat in a non-insulated house, with or without snow, is going to be an interesting venture.

Now, some photos:


This is the chipa, done, all of it fresh out of the ta-ta-kuaa!


Formed, by hand, and ready to go in the oven. I grew bored of creating diamonds and made everyone in my family their initials in chipa... they loved it.


Mixing it all by hand with my mom and her sister.


The bullfight we walked to one saturday night, it was interesting, and not so fun to walk home at 3 am afterwards...


Baby pigs born the night before! And Tony, my puppy, bigger now, and really wanting to play with the pigs next to them.

Fotos for last post