Development Dilemmas

The cumbia beat blasts throught the makeshift sound system above me and the warm wind welcomly blasts me in the face as we crawl through the city slowly making our way to the highway. I'm on the bus headed out of town for the second weekend of a four weekend tour to give presentations about social entrepreneurship and promote the national initiative Paraguy Emprende, which I am now putting a lot of my time into. 

On top of that I am also mentoring a young girl to strengthen her youth group, working with a collegue at the office of employment to implement a continuous series of job coaching workshops, attempting to write an NGO consulting curriculum, preparing to teach business planning classes, supporting the tourism office in organizing a community farmers' market, teaching a little English here and there and basically whatever else pops up around me. 

Staying busy keeps me level, gets me out of the house and gives me a purpose.  Although sometimes progress is slow, it might take a week or two to get a follow up meeting or a response to an email, I think I'm making headway. Sometimes it's difficult when I get overly excited about an opportunity only to find that I may have misread the situation or didn't recieve an entirely honest overview.

Development work is tricky, and on top of cultural and language differences there's the huge challenge of finding people who are open enough to be inspired to try something different. Then pair that with the desire to be self motivated enough to follow through and you've got the magic but rare combination.  I can't help but reflect on who I interact with and I wonder if I can make an impact or if I'm even reaching the segment if the community who could benefit from my work the most. 

It's hard to quantify, to see the long term possibilities and to arrive at the strategic outlook I am trying so hard to impose upon my projects. It doesn't hurt to take a step or two down the symantec ladder to get my head out of the clouds and my feet back on the Paraguayan ground.  At this level I'm the one benefitting, with the lessons I'm learning, the relationships I'm making and the idiosyncrasies I'm accepting. 

Today, I'm perfectly content sweating profusely on a crowded dusty bus, listening to the same reggeton songs I've heard a thousand times. Although I still look like an outsider, I'm starting to really feel Paraguay in my heart. And that's a development dillema that's not quantifiable, it's hard to articulate, and perhaps it's not even a dillema at all. 

A New Year Begins with a New Adventure: Trekking Brazil

After a quick day at one of the seven wonders of the world, the waterfalls at Foz de Iguazu, I welcomed the New Year with my good friend and room mate on the beach of Copacabana in Rio de Janiero with two million other festive faces.  Dressed in white to usher peace and prosperity into the New Year, people packed onto the beach for free concerts, steaming street foods and an incredible fireworks display at midnight. But Rio's natural beauty, urban excitement and bronzed beach bodies couldn't hold us for long, our adventure was destined for the interior of Bahia State, over 36 hours of bus rides, to a National Park called Chapada Diamantina.

Before arriving, Chapada Diamantina seemed mysertious and wild from the lack of information online and in travel guides.  After the last ride of the long trip in a rusty old van along a curvy one lane dirt road, I was surprised to find ourselves in a small hippy community full of good vibes, Hare Krishna folks, organic and vegan foods and beautiful views of the surrounding wilderness pervaded the small town of Valle do Capao.  It felt like a little island of culture all to its own, and there was certainly not a shortage of helpful happy people tucked away in this mountain refuge.

We enjoyed the atmosphere, went on two day hikes to nearby waterfalls (one of which is the highest in Brazil where the water falls so far it dissipates into a plume of "smoke") and staged our trip into the park.  Armed with a map, the essentials for survival and enough hubris to think that we didn't need to contract a guide, we set off at 6:00 am on what would turn into an 11 hour day to make it into our destination, Valle do Paty.

The first night in the shared camp or posada, people smiled with amazement that two girls made it into the valley without getting lost on the way.  We didn't pay much attention to the comments because our legs were jelly and our bellies were growling.  After setting up camp and taking care of our immediate needs I walked away from the camp in the dark where I could see the faint glow of  thousands of lightning bugs.  I sat by myself on a hill in the dark, overlooking what I knew was the wilderness we were going explore, surrounded by magical flickers of neon green light.  The clouds started to brighten and the moon began to appear between two rocky mountain tops, a wedge of light illuminated the valley and I delighted in the spectacular of the natural light show.

The next morning it was clear that we were going to have a rough time finding all of the waterfalls, caves and trails that the park had to offer.  Not a single trail was marked and the trail on our map was more of a friendly suggestion than an accurate guide.  Fortunately, we meet a young married couple who invited us along on their day trip to the first waterfall.  Creek crossings, bouldering along the river and narrow jungle pathways took us past a series of waterfalls that we would have never found on our own.  We swam in the pool under the largest waterfall and basked in the incredible scenery. We had a great time getting to know the couple; the wife was Brazilian and the husband French. They had met years ago, but their marriage was delayed by two sizable barriers that they eventually overcame, an ocean and a language.

During our entire Brazilian adventure I was continuously grateful for serendipitous meetings with the right people at the right times.  The couple invited us to go along with them on the hike through the park, as we had a similar circuit mapped out and a similar timeline.  They saved us with great company and knowledge of the trails and we returned the favor by sharing food, our camp stove and our company.  We camped under cliff ledges, hung our heads over incredible canyon overlooks, swam under waterfalls, awed at the vermilion green and red tint of the rivers and creeks and were astounded by the various micro climates that shifted between dessert, cloud forest, jungle, mossy fern groves and palm forests. We literally climbed a rocky mountain face, called the castle, and then bouldered through a cave to the other side of it where the view of the valley where we trekked through for 6 days took our breath away.

The last night sitting under the unbelievable blanket of stars after just barely finding our camp spot before dark I felt a little tinge of sadness because the adventure was about to end.  Valle do Paty definitely pushed our limits but it was a chance to experience natural beauty unique to its remote niche on this planet.  The next day we were on a bus by dusk, headed to the nearest coastal city, Salvador, and from there I hopped a plane back home to Paraguay.  It was time to get back to work, but to take the images, experiences and inspiration from this fantastic escape along with me.

In Case You Missed It...The Christmas Email

Dear Friends and Family,

I am wishing you very happy holidays from far-away Encarnacion, Paraguay.  This year has been full of exciting challenges and I thank you for sharing these moments as well as supporting me along the way.

Paraguay has transformed from an unknown destination into my new home over the last six months.  My professional Spanish is improving and my Guarani vocabulary is limited but growing.  I have started working on several projects in community economic development, including teaching courses in English, entrepreneurship and employability skills.  I am working with inspiring young Paraguayan leaders to build the capacity of a sustainable urban development NGO and I am also newly part of a national Peace Corps initiative that serves as a small business incubator and consulting firm for young entrepreneurs.  I have the opportunity to work on a local level with women’s groups and youth groups in  marginalized areas as well as work on a national level to strengthen the organizational structure of several country-wide initiatives.   I could not have asked for a more fitting service to complement my Mater’s program in International Development from the University of Denver, which I completed in March.

It has been quite the adventure getting to this point, and I have certainly had both ups and downs.  The heat here is unlike anything I have ever experienced, but fortunately there is terere, (the iced version of Yerba Mate), and plenty of activities to take my mind off the intense weather.  My community, Encarnacion, has been a pleasant surprise.  It is much more urban and touristy than I imagined  my Peace Corps experience to be.  However, I am appreciative for the uniqueness of my service and the opportunities I have to grow professionally and personally over the next two years. 

The time has already flown by and I have no doubt that I will be reconnecting with everyone from Montana, Colorado and elsewhere before I know it.  Until then, take care and know that I am truly grateful to have you with me on this adventure.   All the best for  2015!  Cheers, Emily

A Personal Pilgrimage

35 kilometers, or about 21 miles, that seemed like an attainable goal from the balcony our group stood on while posing for our pre-pilgrimage photo.  At about mile 13 I started to question my sanity and wonder if the fresh mango I picked off the tree for breakfast or the water I had drank that morning had altered my judgement.

Pre-Pilgrimage Enthusiasm

We hit the road at five in the afternoon, just as the sun started to dip, with plans to arrive at the Cathedral of Caacupe by midnight. As we marched along in good spirits the unrelenting rays of the sun stung our faces and we sweated our way into the night.  As soon as dusk fell we were joined on the trail by more and more pilgrims.  Thousands were making their way to either give thanks for a miracle that had occurred in the past year or ask for one.  I spoke with several Paraguayans who were walking for the health of a family member or to thank the virgin for the miraculous recovery of their sick infant or mother who was diagnosed with cancer.  Some walked for hours, others for days in converse and flip-flops with nothing more than a thermos for ice-cold terere and perhaps a baby in their arms.  Amazed by the asceticism of these light travelers, I did not regret wearing my hiking shoes and carrying a backpack full of provisions as we grew weary after several hours in.

Sunset along the Pilgrimage

Eight hours later we crested the hill leading down to the cathedral and witnessed the fireworks exploding in the distance to mark the stroke of midnight.  We missed our goal but hobbled down the hill into the crowed about half an hour later.

The sea of people was hardly navigable in our large group and we tried not to lose each other as we snaked through the crowded streets filled with vendors of all kinds.  T-shirts, crafts, wood carvings, fans, and figurines of all sizes of the virgin of Caacupe anointed the streets.  Mothers with children, grandparents and teenagers slept on the sidewalks, some with bamboo mats and a sheet, others with nothing but the clothes they wore and their shoes still on, undisturbed by the flow of activity and clearly exhausted by the long trek from their unknown starting points.  We made it to the cathedral to witness the last part of the midnight mass, where the sea of tightly packed people insisted on shaking each of our hands and offered welcoming benedictions as we stood on tiptoes to catch a glimpse of the ceremony.

The Basilica of Caacupe

Just two streets over there was a huge festival with make-shift restaurants and bars in the streets, carnival rides and betting games of all times.  Smells and sounds drifted through the hot humid air from all directions.  Men gathered around big roulette tables placed their bets with gregarious gestures and threw back bottles of beer.  Children dodged in and out of the crowds, running to see the next diversion.

Litter Along the Pilgrimage

The dualities of the holiday were compelling.  On one side a devout religious ceremony on the other a heathen ruckus.  Along the path people spoke of the reverence they felt for the miracles the virgin had provided while they carelessly tossed plastic cups from the water stations into the ditch leaving piles of trash in their wake.  It made me reflect on the Thanksgiving party that I had attended only a week before with about 60 other volunteers, which resembled something more like spring break Cancun than a day of giving thanks.

View from the Thanskgiving Party at Hotel Triol 

Thanksgiving Ads in Encarnacion

Pondering these contradictions and the past few busy work weeks have delayed me from posting this experience in a timely manner.  As Christmas and the New Year approach I look forward to participating in other holiday traditions here in Paraguay, keeping in mind that the tendency to vacillate between opposing ideas, beliefs and worlds is a human reality and is a place I find myself in from time to time. While I will be thinking about my family and friends in the states I will be sharing the holidays with my Paraguayan host family, hoping that my presence is felt in both places.

We made it!

Justice

I should have known, at least that's what I keep telling myself.

I should have known to bribe the police to actually do something with the police report that I had to file regarding my stolen bicycle.  I also should have known that a luxurious mountain bike in a third world country is a huge liability, and I should have know it wouldn't be safe sitting inside a government building out of my sight, (without cameras, a guard or locked doors), only 10 feet away from where I was sitting.

We all make mistakes, "sigh," and in retrospect everything is much clearer. But the lesson learned here is not only about my personal frivolity and carelessness but really about how things are here in Paraguay.

Clearly someone saw an easy opportunity and took it, and how can I blame them?  Sometimes one small opportunity is all you get, and here you take it, whether or not it's "the right thing to do."

However, I have been touched by the shared embarrassment that all of my colleagues expressed after my bike was stolen from under our noses.  And then, I just have to smile as the sentiment immediately fades and they all crack jokes about how tired my feet must be after walking so many kilometers to the office, ("maybe that will help you loose weight, Emily").

Thanks to my colleagues' goodwill, yesterday, I found myself on an exhilarating stake out, with two old Paraguayan guys, patrolling a rough neighborhood outside of the city.  In between sips of terere we discussed the hot tip I received on facebook from someone who thought they saw a bike like mine, refinished in matte black, cruising around this shady part of town.

Our driver was slow and deliberate, and so was his accomplice who explained to me the master plan of recuperating my bike, if we did indeed catch a glance of it.  "I will promise a couple kids a reward if they tip me off about anything suspicious in the neighborhood, then we will visit the house where the suspected bike is, pretend we are looking for a place to rent, identify it quickly and discreetly, and then finally bring in the police in to investigate."

"Yes, genius," I mumbled, distracted not by my low-profile backseat search for the bike but by the rows and rows of shacks that served as cramped, inadequate living quarters for entire families. This was my first glance of the shanties outside of the buffer of wealth and the touristy facade that envelops the city center where I spend the majority of my time.   The exhilaration of the search faded into a scene of abandonment, where both the people and their neighborhood seem to have been cast away to the fringes.  The sun was shining, but the wind had a chill in it and it rustled the garbage piles in the ditches and sent plastic bags rolling across the road like tumbleweeds.  No one would be cruising around on their new bike this afternoon.  We turned up a rocky hill littered with potholes, waved at the old men on their stoops and drove back to the city.

I lowered my eyes and thought that if my bike was the one opportunity that some kid from this forgotten neighborhood saw and took, then I should have known...his need was greater than mine.