Ch-ch-ch-changes

Blancita's family planting their new tree

 After 8 months in site, I thought it was a good time to reflect on some of the changes we've experienced since we first arrived. Here are a few that come to mind....

* When we do our laundry, our neighbors no longer stare when they see Mark doing, “women’s work.” Also, I don’t get scabs on my knuckles from scrubbing anymore! 

From the wash buckets to the barbed wire fence to dry

* I am no longer afraid of getting shocked by our shower head. Our hot water is heated at the source, and electrical wires run right into the shower head. Mark has said that he touched it and didn’t get shocked. I’m content to keep my hands far away from the place where water and electricity mix!  

Would YOU touch this thing???

* Though far from being fluent, my language skills are improving, gone are the days of memorizing a phrase at a time, and trying to create a dialogue in my head before approaching someone. I even find myself “getting” the jokes and telling a few of my own. Though, I do have to admit, in the English class that I’m teaching I had my students roaring with laughter. Instead of saying that in the Fall, the leaves, (hojas), fell from the trees, I said eyes, (ojos), fell from the trees. Oops! 

 * I no longer reach for the flusher, only to find it’s not there. I instead grab the string and pull. And, not to get too graphic, but the toilet paper now always makes it’s way into the wastebasket instead of mistakenly dropped in the toilet.

 * We built a “lombricera” for our worms, so they have moved from a fruit crate in our kitchen to a more spacious brick house, outside. Many Paraguayans are terrified of the worms, but are really curious about our great veggies yields. Worm castings make amazing fertilizer!

My first masonry project- lombricera made of bricks and mud

* I never thought I’d see the day, but I can now officially say I like mondongo, (cow stomach), and batibarillo, (random chopped internal organs in a rich brown gravy). I prefer my cow stomach coated and fried in pig grease, (milanesa).

* We no longer dread trying to maneuver the public transit system in Asuncion. When we first used the buses in Asuncion, we once ended up at the dump, another time at the end of the bus line, in the middle of nowhere!  We now know the collectivo numbers that can get us to most parts of the city.

Mark's prized cauliflower

* We now spend more time eating and sharing vegetables from our garden, than we do working in our garden. Our neighbor always seems to return the favor by turning the fresh veggies into something fried called a tortilla, (a mixture of flour, egg, salt, cheese, and vegetables, dropped by the spoonful into hot oil to fry until crispy). I think it is our way of meeting in the middle- they’ll eat the veggies if we prepare them their way. I reciprocate by eating the tortillas, which, I have to admit, are delicious!  

Fresh veggies from our garden that escaped the tortilla!

* Many of the people who I used to say hello to in the streets and then walk quickly by, have become friends. I find myself going out to run an errand, only to stop and drink terrere with someone and catch up on the latest, or discuss the possibility of a garden, planting trees, or the best time to plant mandioca, (during the new moon of course!).  

Ramona's whole family pose with their newly planted tree

  * We're in the planning stages, working with the school Principals and   Comisiones de Padres to open school libraries, and get books in the hands of kids! Right now we're working on getting funding to buy book displays, developing a plan for how the books will be used in the school, training for staff and students... one step at a time.

One of our planning charts

  *  I used to consider this experience as an avenue to give and share of myself. I have discovered the many gifts, I instead, have received from Paraguayans- unhurried time and patience as I try to find the correct words to convey what I am trying to say; food from their kokues, though there may not be much to share; continued informal lessons in Guarani, they just won’t give up on me!; a third generation artesania sharing her art of crochet, we all laughed together as my fingers fumbled through the process, but in the end I was able to produce a hat!; the warm and welcoming feeling we have received by this wonderful community which may look poor, but is so rich in the gifts the people so freely share.

My Handmade Crocheted Hat- Thanks Lidia!