Getting to Work

Building a new routine, making new friends and basically building a new life from scratch, in a different culture and language is not an easy task.  In fact, it feels more normal to fall into the Paraguayan trap of being kaigue, or without energy to do much at all.  Fortunately this last week, I shook off the cultural roller coaster and had a break though week as a guapa, hardworking, Peace Corps volunteer. 

DAY 1

Inspiration appeared in the form of Paraguay's own Land-Fill Harmonic, a brilliant orchestra composed of instruments made entirely of garbage.  Carried by a refreshing river breeze the rusty, metallic twangs of junk reassembled itself  into music of various forms.  John Lennon, Metallica, Paraguayan folk and even a Pakistani tune were among the set list.  I stayed to thank the Maestro and a few of the musicians afterwards, who even after traveling to all corners of the globe, remained true to the humble origins of their recycled violins, guitars, violas, trombones, string bases, flutes, saxophones and accordions.

DAYS 2-5

The concert kicked off the ALEA, a week long South American architecture student convention, and with it a 5 day workshop with Encarnación Sustentable (my pet NGO, check them out! https://www.facebook.com/EncarnacionSustentable).  Our participants designed various prototypes for recycle bins made of recycled materials.

DAYS 2-5

Oh yeah, then I started a 20 hour a week course on teaching methodology for the employment office that I work at.  In order to give my future students super official SNPP certificates, I have to take this class with about 25 other instructors-in-training.  Although the four hour classes are a little tedious, this is a great opportunity to share time with Paraguayans and really analyze the learning style here. So far, it's painfully obvious that they love to share personal anecdotes about pretty much anything, no matter the relevance to the subject matter, haha!

DAY 6

And if that wasn't enough, I also held my sixth and final employability class, with a group of young people that I really enjoyed meeting with for the past six Saturdays.  They did great, and though our time was limited, they scooped up their certificados, (literally printed certificates saying they were in the course - a pretty big deal around these parts), and passed their final exams, a game of bingo, with flying colors.

DAY 7

So, did I rest on the seventh day?  Heck no, this week was too unstoppable.  I rode my sweet new bike to the bike shop around 6:30 am to meet up with the "team" for a morning ride.  Little did I know, 5 hours and 50 kilometers of beautiful Paraguayan countryside later, I would be sitting, rather uncomfortably because I didn't brink bike shorts to PY, at an asado (traditional Sunday BBQ), with a new group of biking buddies.  The lingering pain of muscles I forgot I had continue to remind me that for the first time my Paraguayan mission was accomplished, and that this was a week to remember.

Thunderstruck, The Musical

The first stanza of most Paraguayan conversations begin, of course, with the weather.  Then, a brief ceasura is taken for the important business of sipping terere, and the conversation returns da capo to, you guessed it, the weather.

The weather as of late has been nothing but a colossale display of mother nature's symphonic wrath.  For days now I have been jolted awake at night by the duet of thunder and lightening that produces a deep rumbling tenor with haunting vibrado, crecendoing to the deafing stacatto of biblical rains slapping my apartment's uninsulated tin roof.

As I sit here amused by the cacophony of thunder and raindrops that attempt to drown out Thunderstruck by AC/DC blasting on the Paraguayan radio, I wonder if I am witty or just sleep deprived.  Finally, the diminuendo from the forte to the coda of yet another score of nature's magnum opus begins.  The streets are converted into temporary rivers, the timpani drums resonate in the distance, I take a sip of terere and I think to myself, "at least I will have plenty to chat about at work tomorrow."

 -Fin-

The Peace Corps Games

Six actors stood frozen on stage, one pair in colonial dress, a woman in a psychedelic green seventies motif, a second couple in all white beach clothes and a third in a silver jumpsuit with futuristic LED lighting.  All were caste in gold-face and were shimming yet frozen in various poses on stage while the most important community figures spoke about a theme completely unrelated to the awkward living statues; the book fair that was taking place next door.

Fake blondes plastered with makeup and false eyelashes clapped madly as the speakers finished their self-congratulating speeches that hardly touched upon issues of literacy, reading or access to education but instead reveled in the accomplishment of putting on the tenth annual book fair, where one could buy a single book for the cost of what many people have to feed their families for the week.

It has been the running joke that I am Katniss living in the Capitol of a remote South American country.  As much as I love to hate the truth in a pop-culture reference, I couldn't help but smile at the irony when the grand finale of the book fair inauguration revealed eight carnival dancers on stage, scandalously embossed with strategically placed bling and ridiculously large feather headdresses who gyrated to blasting carnival music as a tribute to the great accomplishments of this machista city of the south.

As the room full of ‘somebodies’ gawked and applauded over-approvingly at the ‘performance’, I couldn't help but scream inside, “BUT WHAT ABOUT THE BOOKS???!!!” 

In my position, I've been repeatedly warned against negative blogging about specific people, events or places.  I mean no offense with my description of this night but can’t help but share the reality of living in a country that is rated by Transparency International as having the 27^th most corrupt public sector in the world (http://www.transparency.org/country#PRY).  Guarding information and impeding access to education is a celebrated fact when elites surround themselves with books and pervert the transformational and liberating potential of the written word into another show of affluence and decadence.

Signing off from the Capitol…

Settling in as an Encarnecena

I'm going on my third week as an Encarnecena; and since I will be living here for the next two years I might as well adopt the local namesake.  I am amazed that I will be living the life of an urban Peace Corps volunteer, instead of my romanticized image of a rural volunteer watching her garden grow and fending off the occasional hostile cow.  Although my site placement has hit me somewhat by surprise, I am thankful for the many opportunities I have to pursue here. 

As soon as I arrived I hit the ground running with a two-day conference promoting volunteerism with various speakers and projects highlighting local volunteer organizations.  I made friends with young people from the three Rotaract organizations here in Encarnacion and was able to accompany one group on a project visit to a neighboring health clinic and attend the awards ceremony for elected officer positions, which turned out to be an elegant evening of pomp and circumstance at a sushi restaurant.  I have been pinching myself lately and wondering, "am I really in Paraguay?"

I also am working a few days a week at the office of employment where I will develop curriculum to help young people find employment, better their resumes, improve their professional English and even start a social entrepreneurship course with a national seed funding competition as the end result. 

The rest of my time I am using to work with various non-profits in the area, specifically one that focuses on sustainable urban development on a city, national and international level.  I get to develop a best practices course for non-profit management and help bring these organizations along from the start-up/fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants phase to a more sustainable and operationally sound model.

I also confirmed with Fundacion Paraguaya, a reputable microfinance organization, that I will be collaborating with them to perform a social performance audit using the measurement tool developed by Truelift, an organization I worked with in Colorado.  This will be the basis of my work for my master's thesis at the University of Denver.

In addition, I should probably also mention that I will also be compiling a community study of Encarnacion and various SWOT analyses of the organizations and institutions I will be working with here in Encarnacion.

So if anyone (including myself) thought that I would be lounging in the countryside, sipping on terere and voraciously reading Anna Kerenina and all the other classics I downloaded on my kindle, you're dead wrong.  Now if I can just get my professional Spanish up to snuff, I will be ready to take on the next big life challenge that has been handed to me: become a guapa (hardworking) Encarnecena and make some serious waves over the next two years.

Wish me luck!

Incommunicado

Besides internet being scarce and unreliable, I have also experienced a technology breakdown...my computer se decompuso (the handy word used for every situation in which an object is destroyed, decomposing or dead). 

Instead of dwelling on being disconnected, I have taken advantage of the extra time to read, study guarani and hang with my Paraguayan family. In the past few weeks I have unraveled some stories and created a few stories worth repeating of my own.  Like last weekend when my sister, fellow PCV Ashley and I had a close encounter with a blood thirsty toro (bull) that chased us off the empedrado (cobble stone street) into a concrete wall, where our only defense was to crash into each other haphazardly, limbs and umbrellas flailing, and land in a panicked, bruised and muddy heap, which of course drove the rabid toro away. This is my second encounter with a cow here in Paraguay, and I was certainly pondering my animal karma as the owner of the bull stood in the near by field laughing hysterically. 

The last couple weeks have also revealed stories of hardship and faith that exude a strong sense fatalism and realism in Paraguayan daily life. Religious ceremonies and festivals are omnipresent as the last week has been filled with celebrations of San Juan, the saint who apparently dictates young Paraguayans' relationship statuses (San Juan dice que si, San Juan dice que no), and doll-like effigies of virgins passing by in candle-lined streets followed by a procession following their virgin to the neighborhood chapel. I've heard an incredible Paraguayan story of a pilgrimage to the basilica in Caacupe while six months pregnant with a one year old on her back to thank the virgin of Caacupe for miraculously bringing her sick child back to health. And most recently, there's the story of my young Paraguayan friend who has had to make some difficult choices because of her abusive family situation. In her words, si dios quiere (if god wills it) she will survive.

Overall the time has flown by and although I have been missing much of the events of the outside world and the community I used to know, I have been able to take a closer peek into the lives of  my Paraguayan friends and family. Please excuse me if my lack of technology has taken me away from my former network, but be assured that in the long run being absent/or more present has helped me to aprovechar (appreciate) the Paraguayan stories that are to be told. 

Until my next post...