Plant a Tree!

As a conservation and environmental education volunteer, one of the goals of my service is to raise awareness about deforestation in Paraguay, and encourage reforestation or to simply plant more trees with the people in my community, using locally available trees and seeds. Before attempting to teach others, I wanted to do a little experimenting on my own. Here is a snapshot of the process we used to create our own little backyard, vivero, or tree nursery.

1. Mark and I, during our daily two-hour walks in our community, began to identify local trees and identify potential, “mother trees.” Mother trees are exceptional trees of a specific variety from which we might collect seeds.

2. We collected seeds from 3 different trees, including: one native, (Timbo); one popular in this area for shade, (Chivato); and one ornamental, (Lluvia de Oro).

3. We worked with our host family to correctly identify the tree varieties, then removed the seeds from their protective pods.

4. Next, we treated the seeds with boiling water, (4 minutes), and soaking with cold water, (10 hours), so   the seeds would germinate more rapidly.

 5. While the seeds were soaking, we made macetas, (homemade planters), out of plastic soda bottles.

 6. We planted the seeds and Mark made a medio sombra, (shade), for the seedlings to protect them from the blistering Paraguayan sun.

7. Our tree “plantitas” sprouted and continue to grow under the watchful eye of Lorenzo, our 5 year-old host brother. He waters them daily with a regadera, (watering can), made from a plastic soda bottle. He also loves to use his balde and pala, (bucket and shovel), that Mark made for him out of plastic from the maceta project, (notice the recycling theme going on, here?), to spread ashes around the perimeter of our tiny vivero to deter ants.

8. Today, we transplanted the larger trees into bigger, individual macetas made from old newspapers.

We have have been learning lots about growing local trees, creating tools from available materials, and working with our host family!

An Intimate Cultural Experience

Last week we were invited to a family gathering, thinking it was just for a visit. We talked with people and were were shown around the house and garden. From a distance, I noticed a small table covered in a white table cloth, including: a candle; a vase with flowers from the yard; a ceramic statue of the Virgin Mary; a glass of water; a small silver tin; a small, white cardboard box with plastic flowers attached to the top; and a glass jar with a peach label containing something I couldn’t quite make out.

Before long a priest arrived on a moto and everyone gathered near the table. The priest conducted a ceremony with participation and reflections from the group in attendance, including readings and songs. I came to realize, despite the language barrier, that we had been invited to a very personal gathering to share in the cultural practice of celebrating the life of a “lost child.”

Toward the end of the ceremony, the tiny fetus was taken from the glass jar with the peach label, placed in the white box, and buried near a shrine outside the family home. The mother of the miscarried child, with red, teary eyes helped serve refreshments to everyone. Her brother put a big arm around her shoulders and said something that made her smile. Everyone ate, talked and visited, before we set out down the dirt trail toward home. 

As we walked, I reflected on the ceremony and how this caring community of people came to support the young woman during her time of loss.

I wanted to share this cultural experience because it made me think. Is this practice unique to Paraguay? Close friends in the states, who have experienced a miscarriage, have shared that it can be a lonely experience- that people don’t talk about it because it makes them feel uncomfortable or that at times people make insensitive comments. The gathering we attended was warm and supportive to the young mother, though I wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t admit that the fetus in the jar part was a little unnerving to me….

The whole experience made me wonder if some type of recognition of loss, following a miscarriage, would be comforting for moms in the states, too. I guess this is a matter so personal that it would vary with each individual….

I was grateful to have been invited to join in this experience- a ritual very different from what I am accustomed to, yet it made so much sense at the same time. In addition, it was just another example of how open and welcoming Paraguayans have been during our short time here. 

Where's the Poop?

One of the goals of our service here in Paraguay is soil recuperation, or adding nutrients and organic matter to the soil to increase crop production. Currently, I am working with a family to create an abonera, (organic compost box), to supplement the family garden. We have been feeding this hungry compost pile lots of leaves, cow poop, kitchen scraps, (what doesn't get fed to the pigs),  and other organic matter we find around the farm. Since most families plant their gardens in March, the timing should be perfect with a ready supply of compost.

This project serves another purpose, as well. Leaves and other organic matter are considered trash and because there is no garbage service or pick up, it is burned. This creates lots of smoke in the air, particularly on hot still days. Composting this “trash” is a great alternative!

 
 Preparing the soil in the compost box



The kids are so eager to help and try new things. This little guy carried this bag of leaves, (or dry organic matter), that was just about as big as he is!




The whole family has been involved in this project! They were intrigued to feel how hot the compost actually becomes, (me, too: yeah- it's working!), and to see how the organic matter is converting into compost, (hey- the cow poop doesn't stink any more!).

We are discovering that the community has an interest in organic fertilizers through composting, so we plan to use this "abonera" as part of a demonstration when we begin to teach others. Hopefully the end result will be better veggie yields and better nutrition for our Paraguayan neighbors!

 

Well, Okay...

During our pre-service Peace Corps interview, I said I could do it, so I did. While our host prepared to walk to the kokue to harvest mandioca, Mark and I, too, got ready to go along. At this time, I was told by our hostess that I was to stay at the house with her. When I persisted, her husband said it would be better for me to work at the house, that it would be too hot for me, (a woman), in the fields. So, I did it- respected cultural norms and remained at the house to do, “women’s work,” for a little while, anyway…..

Did I mention that I pouted for a short time? Well, I did, but not for too long. I decided to get over it and get out into my community. I met a woman spinning wool and commenced with my community needs assessment questions. Her responses were entirely in Guarani, (most people speak a little Spanish, too), and to my surprise, I was able to understand enough to get some responses down!

As I continued down the dirt road to a neighboring community, I encountered a plantita and seed source gold mine! Paraiso Gigante, Yvyra’ro, Karuparu Kuru, and Yvyra Pyta, just the trees I had been looking for, as we decided to reserve a small part of our garden for a tree nursery as part of a reforestation project.

Further down the road, I heard the high-pitched hum of, “the bichos that come with the watermelons.” I was finally able to view one up close: a thick, greenish, 2 ½ inch fly-like insect with large lacey wings. I don’t know much else about them, other than there are lots of them in Arazape and that their song coincides with the ripening of the watermelons.

My attention was then captured by a hive of tiny sting-less bees, furiously tending their football sized hive, attached to a Timbo, (native Paraguayan tree), branch. The miniature honeycombs, arranged in perfect alignment, held the liquid gold produced by these ¼ inch abejas, (or kavakuera in Guarani).

After my two hour walk experiencing Arazape, (part of our daily routine), I emerged with new ideas, a breath of fresh air from the beautiful scenery surrounding me, and my attitude in check. Adjusting to new cultural and gender roles won’t be easy for me, but we’ll get it figured out. ;)

Chipa!

Paraguayans make a delicious bread, crunchy on the outside and chewy on the inside, called “chipa.” You can purchase chipa just about anywhere in Paraguay: on the streets; in the terminal; while on the colectivo; or from a woman carrying a large basket expertly balanced on her head.

I had the opportunity to make chipa with an expert. Being a fan of the traditional treat, I jumped at the chance. Although you may lack a tatakua’a, get your recipe card out and get ready to bake up a big batch of chipa!

1.Fill the tatakua’a with wood and start a fire, then continue to feed the fire so the bricks get hot throughout.

2. Heat ¼ pot of pig fat until it liquefies, cool; add equal parts of mandioca flour and corn flour; a big hunk of cheese; add a few cups of whey, (left over from the cheese making process); about 15 eggs and a small handful of anise seed. Mix well by hand.

3.Knead the dough, then form into rings or small buns and place on banana leaves.

 

4. After about an hour, remove any remaining wood from the tatakua’a and sweep out the ash.

5. Place the chipa in the tatakua’a and seal the oven.

6. After about 20 minutes, carefully remove the baked chipa. Ten cuidado- it’s HOT!

7. Enjoy!