You Don't Want A 7th Serving of Dinner???

You don’t want to wash your dish?  You don’t want to eat some dinner?  You don’t want to come with me to get some clementines?  You don’t want to make banana bread?  You don’t want to bring me back meat from the store?  You don’t want to clean your yard right now? You don’t want a seventh piece of fried meat?

These are just some examples of questions I get asked on the regular.  Paraguayans are veryyyyyyyyy indirect.  It’s complicated.  As I described in my exercise post Paraguayans hate saying no and will agree to anything in the moment and when the time comes not actually go which makes planning hard.  But being indirect makes things hard to follow and understand in English, nevermind in a second or third language. 

They always ask you if you don’t want to do something which translates into can you do this?  Very confusing.  In the beginning I would answer it literally based on whether I wanted to or not. 

You don’t want to eat dinner right now? (Translation: We’re eating dinner now)

No thanks, maybe later. 

You don’t want to walk 2 kilometers to get clementines? (Translation: I need help carrying the clementines)

No thanks, I’m tired.

So there were definitely some awkward moments cuz I just didn’t understand their indirectness.  And it definitely makes things complicated in terms of asking for things I need.  For instance, I need a shelving unit in my house to put my clothes on.  Some might call that a dresser.  And I knew that my neighbors husband was a carpenter but I had to give her an out and be indirect about asking.

Me:  Hi! Do you know a carpenter that doesn’t charge a lot?  (aka your husband?)

Señora: What do you want made? (figuring out if her husband wants to do it or not)

Me:  A few shelves to put my clothes on.  Something cheap with space.

Señora:  Okay, you don’t want to pay a little more for something prettier?

Me: Maybe???

And that is the life.  A whole bunch of confusion and indirectness.  In a language I don’t entirely understand.  Ever.

The One Person Exercise Group

“I would love to exercise!” said every Señora in town.  But actually every one I asked said some form of that statement.  Which should have been a warning sign, but me getting all excited about my first project ignored all warning signs and went all in.  I started inviting people 3 days in advance for an exercise class at the soccer field at 3 pm on Monday which for Paraguayans is plenty of time because planning just is not a thing here.  For those of you who know me well, they procrastinate more than I do, which at this point is just plain impressive.  Everyone showed a ton of interest so I had quite a few things planned for all levels and was pretty excited. 

I thought of starting an exercise group as my first project for multiple reasons.  One, it is a good project that doesn’t require much language at all so not too much stress there.  Two, if I keep eating fried bread and meat all day every day I’m gonna need it.  Three, it is a good way to meet new people through sharing an experience and being active together.  Four, Paraguayans think only fat people need to exercise and are not knowledgeable about the benefits of exercise at all.  Five, Paraguayans for the most part do not exercise at all.  Motorcycles have become a HUGE thing in the past few years and are rapidly available through a credit system for almost anyone.  Which in some ways is cool because it is encouraging people to leave their house.  But in other ways isn’t because they are so dangerous and people take them for the shortest of runs so walking to the local store isn’t even a form of exercise anymore. 

So with all these reasons I was excited to begin and on Monday at 1pm I went around again to ensure that people didn’t forget about it and got all confirmations that yes indeed, they would be at the soccer field at 3 pm.  The time came around and I walked over to the soccer field and met a few Señoras on the way.   And here are a few responses I got when I asked them if they were ready to go to the class.

Señora #1: Sorry, Señora #2 has a cough and she can’t go.

Me: Oh, that’s too bad. How about you?

Señora #1: I have to accompany Señora #2.

Señora #3: I haven’t finished washing my clothes. A little bit later.

Señora #4: Señora #3 needs help with the soap.  A little bit later.

Señora #5: I’m caring for my nephew.

Me: Your nephew can come too!

Señora #5: I have to bring him to his house exactly at 3 pm.

Señora #6 and #7 fled on their motorcycles to who knows where.  Literally disappeared.

Señora #8:  I have to make dinner right now.

Me: Oh, what are you going to make?

Señora #8: I’m not sure yet.

And so was that.  So I went to the soccer field anyway to do some exercise in hopes that somebody would come next time.  Obviously extreme bad luck (reference last post) in the soccer field but I’m still hoping that this will happen some day.

I talked with one of the Señoras a little about it and she told me that everyone is scared that people will laugh at them.  Exercise is so not a thing here and trying new things or being different is DEFINITELY not a part of Paraguay’s culture let me tell you.  So my class clearly just intimidated the hell out of them and they bailed.  I’ve been making some modifications such as calling it a walking group instead of an exercise class.  So far I have one Señora that went walking with me both Tuesday and yesterday for 25 minutes which is definitely a step in the right direction.  Hopefully this will expand.  Also, I learned that doing it in the soccer field isn’t the best idea because it is so public and the Señoras want it more private.  The community doesn’t have too many places so I’m working on figuring that out too to give a little more privacy. 

It was definitely interesting and a very good representation of Paraguayan culture.  They don’t want to disappoint so they never say no to your face but they are also extremely shy and don’t like change so we’ll see how it goes.  Little by little we’ll be moving along.  One Señora at a time ;-)

Arianna Is A Complete Idiot, Part 4074

I know you’re shocked to hear this, or maybe you’re not.  I moved into my house less than a week ago and I love it.  My first casita and I’m as obsessed as ever.  Yesterday afternoon I had my first exercise class at 3 pm which I went around inviting people to again around 1 pm and everyone seemed really interested.  Then the time came and not one person came, but that’s for a whole other post.   So when nobody showed up I obviously got embarrassed and my first reaction was to flea.  So I went back to my house to get my ipod and go for a run on the other side of the community where nobody would see me.  Then the volunteer part of me decided it was a better idea to go back to the soccer field where I was supposed to have the exercise class to let the community at least see me doing exercise on my own and hopefully come the next time.  So I through my house key in my bra, grabbed my phone, and trekked back to the field.  When I showed up at the field a bunch of 15 year old boys were playing soccer and shouting “Americana” which I did not want to have to deal with so I escaped and ran along the dirt road for a while.  Then I came back once the soccer field had been vacated and ran a few laps around that for good measure in hopes of one person seeing me and maybe wanting to come next time.  After a while I started walking back to my house around 5 right as it was starting to get dark and realized on the way that in fact…..I had lost my freaking key.  #$%^ Literally less than a week into being the responsible young lady with my own home I lose my key.  What an idiot.  So I immediately race back to the soccer field and convinced the little 6 year old boys to try and find it praying for a miracle.  And the miracle didn’t happen.  So I went back and told my neighbors who are the owners of the casita that I did in fact lose the key.  How embarrassing.  They then told me that since my door is literally iron and the Peace Corps made me put iron bars on my windows that there was no way to enter (hello security?) so we would have to wait until the morning and look then.  Highly unfortunate because of course I took off my insulin pump to go running and it just so happens that I literally won’t survive the night without it.  Thanks diabetes for sucking.  So I awkwardly had to try and explain that to them where I got the usual drink this herb and by September your diabetes will be cured.  Thanks, but it’s not September sunshine.  Anyways, so five of us set out with flashlights and a motorcycle headlight and searched for nearly an hour along the road and in the soccer field.  No luck.  So as I’m thinking about how embarrassing and terrible it is gonna be to call my boss and tell her I need someone to pick me up and bring me to a pharmacy in Asuncion my neighbor tells me that two other men are coming over to try and break the door down.  Oh god.  Fine.  Do what you have to do.  In Paraguay anything is possible.  So these three men took over an hour to knock off my metal door handle from my iron door (at least I know my house is safe?) while I sat on the side eating clementines because girls just can’t do anything here.  But literally in this case I was useless.  And they finally opened it.  And I bought a new doorknob today and safe and sound I am again.  With two keys.  And at the very least I think I brought awareness to my exercise class.  What a %*$^#$ idiot.        

Carne

So much of it.  All the time.  Paraguayans say that if it doesn't have carne (meat) it's not a food.  And they are not exaggerating.  Mostly because in comparison it is rather cheap here and everyone feels macho eating and cooking it.  And who doesn't want to feel macho?   I have started to become accustomed to eating ridiculous amounts of meat and definitely their version of steak is the most delicious.  Fried, grilled, stewed, any form really Paraguayans eat the carne.  

I've seen the whole process from killing the cow to eating for dinner and it's fairly interesting how here in the campo a lot of jobs revolve around this process.  People literally have set days where they sell meat. For instance, my first host family kills a cow every thursday morning at 3:00 am because people come at 6:00 or 7:00 to find the most delicious meat.  And this one cow a weak income from the meat sales is enough to support the family for a week.  Crazy.  Also having cows is a lot of work.  People have to wake up extremely early and milk them so that milk is available when people want it and then bring them to the fields, often a good distance so they can eat grass.  Then later in the day they go back to bring back the cows.  So it's definitely more work than I ever knew and a way that a lot of people make their income in my community.  Interesting fun facts for you.  And also, the view of the grocery store meat section for ya.  I didn't ask how much a pig head costs....

And on a side note... Congratulations to my little princesita on her high school graduation!  You did it!  And thanks to paraguayan's internet or cooperating for once and letting me see the whole thing. Lots of love from Paraguay Sierra!!

Almost the best day ever

I woke up feeling rested.  The sun was shining.  I was fluent in Spanish.  Why not  guarani as well? It was my new neighbor Señora's birthday and everything was all happy.  Happy joy happy.  Why not just add in that I completely moved out of my host family's house and into my cute little casita.  The señor came to install my shower with hot water mind you.  Hello Paradise! The United States played in the World Cup and I little by little am convincing all of Paraguay to root for the US by chanting USA! USA! everywhere I go.  And then they won!  And like literally never had so much American pride in my life.  I don't think I even knew the World Cup was playing last time.  And now I'm just obsessed.  So long story short, best day of my life in Paraguay.  The game had just ended and we were about to eat dinner which was bound to be something rico because it was the Señora's birthday and probably cake would be involved.  And then things took a sharp turn for the worse.  A, I kid you not, cow head was placed on the table.  Taken out of the tatakua, brick oven type thing, appearing burnt to the crisp. Full with eyes, teeth, tongue, the works.  I'm no vegetarian but in the moment I wanted to be.  Have you ever thought about how massive a cow's head is? Enormous. And people just went at it with knives like scavengers not waiting even a second because apparently it's much more delicious hot.  Of course I didn't have my camera.  Mala suerte. They gave me a giant piece to "try" and it was as disgusting as I thought. Slimy and definitely not satisfying.  And they kept asking me if I liked it as I choked a few pieces down and I didn't have the heart to tell them this delicacy was nasty to me. Meanwhile weirdly the lion sleeps tonight was on repeat on the kids radio just to add a different dynamic.  Strange.  And then they asked if I wanted to try the tongue and it was terrible.  Just terrible. And it all happened so fast.  I kid you not between the time it was taken out of the oven to the time everyone left the premises was less than 15 minutes.  And left with only a skeleton.  And nausea.  And an almost perfect day if the cow hadn't slept that night.  So close to perfect.  So very close.  

Love At First Sight

Do I believe in it? I’m going to lean towards no on that one.  Did I experience it with my community? Definitely not.  In the beginning I wanted nothing more than to fall in love with my community at first sight and for them to fall in love with me as well.  I wanted so badly to have smiles and hugs and open welcoming arms and get that feeling you get when you’re driving in your 1994 red sports car blasting your ultimate favorite song with the windows down and not having a care in the world.  I wanted to be in my happy place. 

And as I’m sure you’ve gathered in the beginning my community was not my happy place.  It was a struggle.  The language felt impossible, the people in my community were shy and confused by my presence, I was shy aka completely not feeling like myself and constantly feeling exhausted and unproductive.  My hopes and dreams of jumping right in and being not only accepted but loved by my community were shut down almost instantly.  And I had no idea how to deal with it. 

But little by little, poco a poco, mishi a mishi, I’ve been learning how to deal with it.  How to move towards acceptance and love.  And it’s quite the adventure.  I’m learning how to not get defensive when a first grader tells me I don’t know anything (excuse me, you’re 8 and still in the first grade).  Okay maybe I still haven’t gotten over that.  I’m learning to ignore the 99 times my brother tells me I don’t understand and laughs obnoxiously every time I speak regardless of the language and wait for the time he tells me he’ll miss me and tells his friends when he thinks I can’t hear that I speak well in Guarani.  I’m learning to march right up to people’s house, clap my hands to enter, and have the confidence to build relationships with strangers.  And through doing this day after day I’m finally starting to see a change.

And boy does it feel good.  I now leave my house with confidence and not feeling like I’m just the complete weirdest thing that has ever existed in the world.  Granted I still get the stares, lots of them.  And the shouts of “Americana” because who needs a name when they can go by their nationality 100% of the time.  And the whispers and talking about me amongst each other instead of to my face.  But now I’m also getting the hellos, the goodbyes, the invitations to birthdays and lunches, the smiles, the waves from afar, the shouts of “Arianna” from the munchkins, the “que guapa”s, the compliments on my language, and just a complete acceptance of me and definitely the first signs of love. 

Things are changing for the better.  It wasn’t love at first sight (except for the one group of young men in my community for which it definitely was) but I’m realizing now that it’s better that way.  If it was love at first sight my friendships and relationships in my community would be completely superficially based on the fact that I am American.  And that’s not what I want at all.  I want them to accept me for who I am as a person, for my personality, for my laugh, for my lack of observation skills, for my love for children, for my inability to communicate, for my complete lack of cooking skills, for my inexperience with campo life, for my eagerness to go to the fields and live the farm life, for my crazy animated voice on the phone with my friends in English, for my chuckles that mean I don’t understand, for my open mind and open heart, and for all the love I have to share.  And I want to do the same in return. 

So maybe it wasn’t love at first sight.  Nor second.  Nor third.  But love is coming.  I know it is.  With time.  

House Hunters International

House hunt completed.  I'm very excited.  I've never house hunted anywhere really. Except on home garden television.  And house hunting in Paraguay is quite the experience, let me tell you.  Basically I went house to house in my community meeting people, accepting their food, drinking terere, and casually throwing into the conversation that I'm looking for a place to live alone for two years.  And this is where their jaws drop.  Alone? How dangerous.  How weird.  How strange.  How ridiculous.  Completely alone? Why?  It's just so not in their culture to be by yourself.  Ever.  If I want my alone time they think I am either extremely depressed, sick, or hate Paraguayans.  So living alone is a whole nother level.  Paraguayans generally stay with their family for their entire lives, often in the same house, maybe they move across the street.  So for me to move to another country where my family is so mombyry (far) where I dont speak the language and want to live completely on my own is just a pretty strange concept.  But nonetheless after 6 weeks of looking, I finally found a house.  My first house.  Needs a little bit of work.  I'm gonna do a lot of yard work, paint, complete the shower, build a sink, and possibly tile the bathroom if I'm feeling fancy.  Good parts are that I have 7 clementine trees in my yard and this is the season so I will be eating my weight in clementines every day. It has running water and electricity already.  My neighbors are super guapo and awesome.  And I have the freedom to do whatever I want to the house.  Oh, and I'm not paying rent, only water and electricity.  So I feel like it can't get much better really.  I'm excited for the repairs and I'll obviously send pictures of the final product.  Wish me luck!!!!

Chipa

Chipa is a traditional Paraguayan food that people here are obsessed with.  I could go with or without.  Not much to love, nor anything to hate.  It's made of corn flour, eggs, animal fat (pig is most delicious), cheese, milk, and a little bit of salt.  Then you just knead if until you want to cut your hands off and cook it over a fire.  Or in an oven.  Whatever your style.  I spent the morning making chipa with the 8th grade class and they most likely just made fun of me the whole time because they think I don't know anything. Which at this point is accurate. But it was fun nonetheless.  Here's some photos! And don't ask me to make any when I visit.  Enough is enough.

Think Twice

I’m exhausted.  All the time.  I secretly hope for rainy days at least a few days a week so it is not only culturally appropriate but expected that I stay in bed all day watching movies in English.  At first I thought I was sick with parasites or something of that sort but after I proved to be completely healthy and talked with other volunteers I realized why I’m so tired.  Every move, thought, word, and action I have to think twice about.  Or three times for good measure.

It’s a tricky situation being a Peace Corps volunteer.  You are expected to integrate into the culture and become a part of the community.  Act, speak, and think like a 24 year old Paraguayan would.  Go to the soccer games with my two kids in hand.  Spend 4 hours a day cooking the food for me and my family and another 2 hours cleaning the house.  I would sit on my porch drinking with my friends as the sun sets and gossip with my neighbors about anyone and everyone because I just can’t help it in such a small community.

But as a volunteer I’m also supposed to be a working professional and represent America at all times.  This is where the tricky part comes in.  If I were just integrating I would yell at my kids and beat them when they didn’t listen, but as a professional with my morals clearly that just isn’t the case.  Not only do I not have kids, nor want my own at this point in my life, but I have to stand strong behind that decision when integrating says just to accept that girls just have kids at 18 here because that’s the way it goes.  Tricky. 

If I were just integrating I would go to the soccer game drunk with my girlfriends without a care in the world.  But the professional in me also has to keep in my mind that my future students will be there watching everything I do and that the whole community might think that all I am here for is to party.  But at the same time the people offering me the drink think I’m super weird, possibly too good for them, and mildly offended that I didn’t take them up on the offer.  Tricky. 

If I were just integrating I too would spend the majority of my day cooking and cleaning but the working professional in me also needs to get out of the house to help the community….. my job.  Tricky.

  

If I were just integrating I would take on gossip like it was my job because well, it pretty much is. But how can I build relationships in the community without getting involved in gossip and also protect future relationships by not gossiping.  Again, tricky.

And this is the life.  Constantly weighing the options between integration, working professional, oh and don’t forget just being me.  Nevermind the think twice part about the dangers of walking alone, whether to accept the 3^rd massive piece of fried bread or turn it down, whether to try and explain an insulin pump or agree that yes I am indeed recording every conversation we have with it for US investigation, whether I share my computer and phone to watch movies and teach kids how to work modern electronics or not risk them getting stolen, whether to bite your tongue when people are making fun of you or lash out like a crazy person to make a point, whether to leave the community and have an “American” day to keep your sanity or stay in your community and hope they think you’re dedicated and hardworking, whether to accept that they have no concept of being a volunteer and being alone or trying to teach them what it’s like, or whether to try your hardest to integrate and be Paraguayan or just to be you.  Tricky.  That it is. 

Every action has a potential consequence, a potential benefit, and usually both.  So think twice about how you want it to work out, how you want yourself to feel, how you want your community to feel, how you want to be perceived, and how this will affect the future.  Then once you’ve decided what’s important, think again.  For good measure. 

And then sleep.  Because you deserve it.