Another month goes by...

Here are some more portraits of life and friends here in Paraguay. Enjoy!

--Ramon: One of the older guys who lives at the Hogar. I think he is about 18 or 19 and still in high school. He is loud, athletic, and a total ham. He loves to invite all the little girls to come and punch him in the stomach as hard as they can. Before coming to the Hogar he lived in the Chacarita, a favela in downtown Asuncion. He has a number of tattoos and will speak openly about the sort of life he had before—the things a person does to survive while living in a place like that, the “friends” that he did those things with and how it makes him sad to know that they are all still in there, how he knows how to fight because he had to. He actually left the Hogar for a period of time and returned to his old neighborhood. After being arrested again, he (like several other boys there) was given a choice by the judge: go to jail or go back to the Hogar. After knowing him it is hard to imagine how he was before--proof that people can and do change.

--Majo: Short for Maria Jose, a common name here. She is 13, cheerful, sweet, and sensitive. Majo is uncommonly fair-skinned for a Paraguayan, has freckles, and has lightish brown hair as well. One of the older boys, Fernando, referred to her as my sister because we look a bit similar—that is, we both look white. Majo now refers to me as “mi hermana”. Her birthday was a week ago, and I was able to be there for the little celebration in the evening. As such, she had “Happy Birthday” sung in three languages: Spanish, Guarani, and English.

--Marco: Just turned eight years old. He is terribly precocious and inquisitive—he always has a million questions. He loves to learn English (He can already count to 15!) and could spend hours asking me how to say different words. Marco is having some trouble with his vision. He has been going blind for a few months now, but a surgery is in the works to correct this (hopefully). The surgery has been scheduled and delayed at least once, and the procedure will take nearly an entire day when it finally does take place. When I asked him if he was scared, Marco insisted that he is not but sighed deeply immediately after answering that question. I will keep you all posted on that one.

--Paolita: Paola is one of the girls who consistently hangs out with me and even gets a little jealous when I show attention to the other kids. She clings to my side almost as soon as I arrive. She is 13, and everything that goes along with that--a bit dramatic and even a bit snotty at times. (So glad I was never like that…right, Mom and Dad?) But she can also be very kind—she likes to steal my journal and write me little letters in it. One of the first interactions I had with her was making bread one night. By the end of it we were both covered in flour, and I had learned that her father’s name was Ricardo and that he “had gone to be with Jesus” several years ago. About a week later she informed me that she was going to the city the next day for a medical procedure. From what I could understand of her explanation, it seems that she goes to the hospital twice a month for dialysis, which she naturally hates. I am unsure exactly what her condition is, and was rather surprised since she seemed to be in perfect health. Since then, though, I have noticed that she gets very tired at times, as if her body just shuts down on her.

--The Chickens: As soon as you are outside of the city, even just a little, you start to see chickens everywhere. The Hogar is pretty far outside of the city, which means there are a lot of chickens wandering in and out of yards and along the dirt roads. Don’t ask me how anyone knows which chickens are theirs and which ones belong to the neighbor. And these aren’t clean white chickens either, but colorful, speckled, dusty chickens. The other day I watched the chickens for 45 minutes—something this city girl has never done before. I was waiting for the bus (and there was really nothing better to do), so I sat down on the ground and just watched. Have you ever noticed how small a chicken’s head is compared to its body? Once you take away the fanfare of the crests and waddles surrounding the head, the brain in there can’t be any larger than a single peanut. Which I suppose explains the urgent, single-mindedness in their scratching and pecking, running along with their tiny heads bobbing in the air.

--Jorge: The man who owns the eyeglass shop I visited today. I had the unfortunate luck of having a broken nose pad in need of repair. Jorge helped me out, while talking my ear off in the process. He is 48; originally from Argentina; loves rock and roll, especially “Gun and Rose”; has lived in Paraguay for nearly 20 years; is Catholic in a ‘born again’ kind of way; has four nieces and nephews in the United States who work a dishwasher, a bank teller, a bar tender, and a nanny; and has a 15-year-old daughter named Florencia. As every proud father would, he showed me Florencia’s picture. I must admit that from her photo, a small mug-shot style image, she seemed like a very disagreeable sort of person. But I said, “Que linda!” as one is obligated to say when shown such a photo. Much to my chagrin there was also a large poster-sized image of Florencia modeling glasses when she was 13. Can’t do much for business. She looks like the exact opposite of her smiling, talkative father. Anyway, my glasses are fixed now, and I got a good deal too.

15 de agosto

Right now there are large quantities of fireworks going off downtown. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again: Paraguayans love fire. Tomorrow is a National Holiday here, because Asunción was founded on the 15th of August. Incidentally, the name of my street is 15 de agosto. So happy 15 de agosto to all! Some items of note…

--My new location: My roommate Marlene is great. Always looking out for me. I love being able to buy my own groceries and cook my own food. My diet has improved significantly since I am now consuming what I consider to be a healthy amount of vegetables. (I will also admit that I have embraced hard-boiled eggs and the widespread use of mayonnaise as an all-purpose condiment.) I am still exploring my neighborhood but feeling more comfortable here all the time.

--Hobbits: I have decided recently that Paraguayans are kind of like hobbits. Tranquil, easy-going, friendly, talkative, family-oriented, short, and they love a good story. I am serious about the short thing. While I am generally considered short in the United States, I am above average here. A nice change of pace to be the taller one for once.

--Los Monitos: At the Hogar there is one room downstairs where about twenty of the littler boys sleep. They are all between the ages of 4 and 11. I have taken to calling them “los monitos” (little monkeys) because one day last week I witnessed a remarkable demonstration. Two of the little boys were teasing each other by imitating monkeys with hilarious accuracy, complete with eating lice and throwing poo. Some things just transcend the language barrier…. Later that same night, after they had stopped throwing imaginary monkey poo, I got to sing them bedtime songs. If you have never had 20 adorable little boys staring at you, grinning and fascinated, I highly recommend the experience. Pretty special. They remind me a bit of the Lost Boys from Peter Pan.

--Learning Spanish: More necessary than ever now that I am without my American friends. I have started borrowing novels from the Hogar. Right now I am reading a Roald Dahl book in Spanish (El Superzorro), writing down all of the words I don’t know. So far I am on page 21 and I have a list of words that is three pages long. Slightly depressing, I suppose, but I am learning. Sometimes the process is hard and no fun. Being in a group of Spanish speakers requires all of my attention if I am going to understand and follow anything. So much so that I sometimes forget to speak at all because I am so intent on listening. I think this will get better with time. Let’s hope.

--Mosquitoes: For real, yo. It is just barely warm enough for them to be out and about, and they are already a force to be reckoned with. I keep bug spray by my bed and apply it regularly. I have never gotten so many bug bites in all my life. Perhaps I taste exotic to them.

--The Internet: Is slow. I think I have mentioned this before. It tries my patience on a regular basis since the internet is the primary way that I am able to communicate with all of y’all. I am so spoiled in the United States, and I miss it.

--The Heat: It is only just beginning, and it is not looking good. It is still technically winter, but you wouldn’t know it by the weather. There isn’t really air conditioning here either, so that should be interesting. Now I am starting to understand why Latin American women wear such scanty clothing—it is effing hot. Keep in mind, too, that three nights ago I went to bed wearing tights, two pairs of pants, two shirts, a hoodie, and the thickest socks I have here. I come from Germanic stock, and my people survived long cold winters. Put simply, I am not built for this sort of heat.

--Lice: So far I am clean, but it seems inevitable that I will get them at some point. For example, today I was cuddling with 5 year-old Luicito for a good 30 minutes practicing writing his name and learning numbers in English. Afterwards he shot upright, and exclaimed that his head itched. Oh boy. The Hogar wages a constant and vigilant battle against the pests, but new children arrive all the time, often with such unwelcome guests. So now Jon and I do regular lice checks when we meet. It is sort of a bonding experience I suppose.

--Laundry: I had my first experience this week of doing my laundry by hand. Thus far I had been taking it to the lavanderia, where they wash, dry, iron, and fold it for me. Love it. But it is an expensive thing to keep doing, so I decided to do what most Paraguayans do: hand wash and line dry. Turns out this takes a long time. Good thing I don’t have a job yet.

--Speaking of Jobs…I have had several interview experiences without finding a situation that really seems like a great fit. I have another one on Friday, a second interview actually, and I am hopeful about this one. It is with ADRO, the Adventist Development and Relief Organization. As you may be able to tell from the English name, it is an International organization—really well coordinated, organized, and dedicated. We’ll see how it goes, but they seemed excited about my English.

English Sightings!

So the great (and also terrible) thing about being an American in a foreign country is that you are never really far from our popular culture. I can easily hear American music on the radio. American TV shows are shown (sometimes in Spanish, othertimes with subtitles). And there is English everywhere, or at least attempts at English. I especially love seeing people wearing clothing with English on it that they obviously do not understand.

Here are my favorites:
1. Recently I was in a dance club in Rosario with Katie, Jana, Jon, and our friend Federico. It was crazy-crowded and I was dancing next to a guy that had "We are breaking up" written on the back of his shirt. I got a great picture posing behind him looking sad. Check out facebook b/c it is now my profile pic. The best part--he had no idea.
2. On a crowded bus I saw a woman wearing a tee shirt that said in pink, sparkly lettering "Just Another Hot Pregnant Woman!" She was definitely not pregnant.
3. I was walking down the street with all my laundry and I passed a guy wearing a shirt with a picture of an angry man pointing and the words "Cut Your Mullet!". Naturally this guy had a fantastic mullet himself. It took all of my self restraint not to laugh at him until after I had passed him.

Downtown!

So I have now officially moved into my new abode with the lovely Marlene, President of the Official Ricky Martin Fan Club of Paraguay. It is great to be in a my own space, but sad to leave the family that has taken care of me for the past two months. The generosity of people here amazes me. My family refused to take any money from me for rent, despite repeated attempts on my part. They just let me stay there and eat their food for free...incredible. And Marlene has graciously opened her home to me as well, so I am now in Katie's old room. On top of that our friend Leti helped me move all of my stuff in her car and moved a bed from Marlene's parent's house to my room. (Sorry Katie....) I am well taken care of. What would I do without my friends?

So far I really like being downtown. A lot of activity and noise almost all the time. I am still trying to figure out all the buses and such, but I have already located the laundry mat, a cyber cafe, and a grocery store. Yesterday I got my very own cell phone and found a radio station that plays music like Arcade Fire, Metric, and the Pixies. Small victories and huge blessings. Now I just need to find a job... I actually have a couple of interview this week, and probably more next week. I'll keep you all posted.

The Hogar

I really need to tell you all more about the Hogar. I have fallen in love....about 200 times. I have fallen in love with the Hogar Unidos en Cristo. This is the orphanage that we have been visiting regularly just outside of the city. There are nearly 200 kids staying there, ranging in age from 1 year to mid-twenties. Some of them are there because they do not have families to stay with. Others are there because their families could not take care of them properly. Still others are there with their mothers after falling into a difficult time. Whatever the situation, the Hogar has become a giant family for the people who live there. It is difficult to communicate how inspiring and refreshing this place has been to me. None of them really speak English, but this doesn’t seem to matter too much. We have been welcomed in just like members of this family. We invite everyone we meet in the city to come and experience this with us, and a lot of them have taken us up on this offer. I am continually impressed with what the Hogar is able to accomplish while having what would be considered so little by American standards. While we always go wanting to help out and love the kids, they insist on serving us. The last night all four of us went there (before leaving for Argentina) they sang to us and prayed for us and gave us an incredible send off. Amazing. We have told them that they are bound to be the future leaders of Paraguay. In a fatalistic and apathetic country, there is this group of kids that have learned to hope and dream despite difficult circumstances. I want to tell you about just a few of the kids that I have gotten to connect with over the past weeks.

Deysi--Deysi (Daisy) is tall and skinny for her age of ten years. She is spunky, athletic, competitive, bright, and very loving. She is mute, so she can lip-read Spanish and communicates through sign language. A number of the other kids have learned sign language to communicate with her, and they make a great effort to always include her. This is strikingly different from the rest of Paraguay, where individuals with disabilities do not seem to be taken into account at all. I am somehow able to communicate with her in pantomime and broken Spanish. I had Katie convinced that I knew sign language because we were having a conversation.

Priscila and Adrian--Priscila is two years old and an absolute fireball. All of the kids at the Hogar are shockingly well behaved, so this little terror really stands out. She can also being amazingly sweet. I have a wonderful picture of her combing my hair. Of course, she had just stolen the comb from her brother Adrian. He is slightly older, quiet and gentle. They are quite a pair.

Pigpen--I need to learn his real name, but he is less than two years old so he can’t tell me himself. I have taken to calling him Pigpen for the most obvious reason--he is always filthy. The kids at the Hogar are generally cleaner than we are when we go there. A precise showering schedule is maintained so that somehow, everyone gets to clean up. More than once I have heard older kids wonder out loud how pigpen had managed to get so dirty already. It appears to be a constant battle with him. He always seems desperate to express himself and frustrated that he can’t tell you all about it. The last time we visited there was a large cluster of small kids playing in the living room. Pigpen obviously had a lot of energy and ran and rolled and shouted with enthusiasm. He became a bit overly enthused and proceeded to grab my shin with both hands, grin at me, and bite me on the leg. He left teeth marks through my jeans. It was hilarious, but I hope it won’t become a habit.

Gisele--She is about 12 I think. She is demanding, frank, and affectionate. She has told me repeatedly that she thinks my nose ring is ugly. She has told our friend Vicente that she does not approve of his facial hair. The last time I was there she clung to my side for the better part of my stay. She argued with me for 10 minutes when it was time for me to leave, claiming that I didn’t need to go to Argentina--what could possibly be there anyway? It was simultaneously frustrating and charming, a typical expression of her personality.

Nancy--Nancy is one of the older girls that I am excited to talk with more as I learn Spanish better. She is 15 years old and befriended me right away. A few weeks ago we visited their school for the San Juan festival. She acted as my guide for the night, taking my arm and leading me around the fair to show me the dancing, the games, the food. She is also one of the girls who daily sneaks food from the kitchen to bring to their neighbors, “because our neighbors are very poor.” This devious kindness blows me away, since she herself would be considered “very poor” by Western standards.

Okay, that is all for now. I will probably end up writing a profile of each kid before my time is done--they all deserve it. The Hogar has a number of new projects coming up, including expanding to accommodate more kids and starting a school. I hope to use my skills to help them by writing funding proposals in English and helping them organize their efforts.

the transition

The last couple of days in Argentina were bittersweet, to be sure. It was wonderful to travel with my friends, meet new friends, and experience another country. But yesterday we had to say good-bye to half of our group, since Katie and Jana returned to the U.S. They were both wonderful friends, supporters, and co-conspirators, so it was a sad bus ride back to Asuncion. Jon and I are both staying in Paraguay for a while, so I do have some American company (for which I am very grateful...) as well as my Paraguayan friends.

Of course, it is a bit scary to be in this place, and I am starting to really miss Kansas City and all of you. But I am also excited to see what develops with this time. I am excited to move in with my friend Marlene downtown. I am excited to return to the Hogar and the 200 kids I have fallen in love with. I am excited to reconnect with all the people I have met in Paraguay. I am excited to work and volunteer and study and read and learn (much!) more Spanish. I am excited to enter a new phase of my experience here. I hope you are excited for me. I will do my best to keep this blog updated regularly and get pictures online soon so you can see where I have been these two months!

Buenos Aires

Buenos Aires is huge. Really huge. Like New York huge. It was an overwhelming place to be--a city with 7 million people. That’s more that the entire nation of Paraguay. We were only there for a day and half, but the city certainly made an impression. It felt more dangerous than any other place I had visited. This fear was later confirmed when our friends Ben and Sophie told us about their experience of being robbed at gunpoint while walking to La Boca--a famous section of the city where the Tango was created. I am glad to say that I had no such experience in Buenos Aires, but their story did make me think twice. I didn’t take many pictures because I sometimes carried nothing but a little cash and a water bottle.

We stayed in this great little neighborhood with cute shops and an artisan market a couple blocks away. I loved it. The first day we were having lunch at an outdoor cafe near our hostel when I spotted two familiar faces. It was Jason, one of our Kansan friends that we had met in Asuncion. I could not believe that in such a giant city we randomly bumped into our American friends. We spend the rest of the afternoon together visiting an artisan market and an area called El Caminito. It is this beautiful historic area near the port. The buildings are painted in sections of different bright colors. When they were originally built the residents were only able to get paint by boat, and they just painted until that color ran out. It is distinctive and beautiful. Another fun thing about Buenos Aires is the strong Italian influence in the city. In the early 1900s there was a huge wave of Italian immigrants which impacted the arts, the cuisine, and the language. The residents speak Spanish with the inflection and intonation of Italian, which was perfect for me since I studied Italian. I think I accidentally picked some of it up, so I will probably get made fun of now in Asuncion. Oh well.