More Kansans in Paraguay!

There is now one more Kansan in Paraguay: Ben Alexander. A friend who arrived suddenly two days ago. Very suddenly. Like, called-from-the-bus-station suddenly. He will be staying out at the hogar for a week or so before he moves on to Bolivia, Peru, and back to the U.S. Lots of fun to have another friend here.

Música

I want to share some things with you. Music that I have grown fond of, sometimes in spite of myself. I still listen to my American music on my ipod a lot, which is still working, against all odds. But I have found myself craving music in Spanish to. Of course there is a lot that I don't like. The music I hate most here is cachaca. We usually call it "cha-caca" (caca means poo) instead because it is so annoying. (Jana started calling it that on accident, but we quickly decided it was the perfect name for it.) My neighbors play it all the time, but I will spare you all the experience of listening to it.

Okay, enjoy.

Bacilos. Legitimately lovely. The first one is kind of sad, but pretty.
Tabaco y Chanel
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcUdwqmGQ6Q
Caraluna
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aXSP9RAqi5Q
Pasos de Gigantes
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xhyRkdEg8AU

Maná. The U2 of the Spanish-speaking world. Everyone likes them--the young and the old alike.
Labios Compartidos
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6wlqqU2_Ms
Mandame una Señal
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XFZxXFAjALI
Bendita la Luz
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J4bIHyzaves

Juanes. Young and poppy. A little ridiculous, but quite catchy.
La Camisa Negra
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ASXzq1O9rrc
Me Enamora
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWA59qwfGL0

My life is like a movie sometimes.

I say this because of my return trip from the Chaco. This is a five hour drive in the country side of Paraguay. The driver was Eliseo-- a loud, warm, somewhat crazy Argentinean ADRA employee. The vehicle was his small, white, manual transmission van filled with bedding, supplies, and... an Indian man who speaks only Guarani. Five hours of looking back every once in a while to offer water and make a hesitant thumbs-up signal. This in and of itself would be a bit odd, perhaps, but add to this the fact that the van was experiencing a somewhat major malfunciton. I'm not so mechanically inclined, so I cannot give it a name. But it appeared that the clutch did not work. Eliseo had to start the car in gear, which meant a lot of lurching. To shift gears he just had to pull it out of one gear and try to mash it into the next gear. It sounded terrible. This difficult process meant that stopping was out of the question. We dodged cows, foxes, dogs, stalled trucks, and various debris at high speeds. We passed slower cars with our fingers crossed. In-town driving meant either very fast or very slow, to try and time things properly with the ligts. In five hours we stopped twice: once to pay a toll and once to drop off the Indian man. Craziness.

“There’s a frog in my shower” and other adventures…

This morning there was, in fact, a frog in my shower. He hopped up out of the open drain in the floor. Rather startling. I then had to chase it around the tiny bathroom so I could set it free out in the wide open spaces of the Chaco. Right now I am in the visiting some ADRA projects with small communities of indigenous people in the interior of Paraguay. It’s a whole nother world, I tell you what. But the people are warm, the weather is uncharacteristically cool and I have a nice little room all to myself, with a bed and everything. Feels like a hotel to me, since I am used to sleeping on the floor about 3 nights a week at the orphanage. The occasional frog, I can deal with. They just got electricity a month ago, which has opened up a lot of new opportunities—refrigerators, electric fans, lights… Like I said, a whole nother world. There is an American working as a volunteer at a school next to the church where I am staying. He has been here for about two months and he hasn’t been able to speak English to anyone since he arrived. So he was pretty excited to see me, even though I was a total stranger. It is always nice to find someone here who speaks your language (literally), since you can share common impressions and experiences in Paraguay. You learn to appreciate the little things and take great joy in simple conversation.

Being here has given me a strong sense of appreciation for a number of things, actually. Little things and big things. The big things include: a new truck that was donated to the hogar, a large monetary contribution from the Chilean embassy, and a huge outdoor playset donated by some adorable visiting Canadians. Amazing. The little things have been equally as important. As I mentioned, I have a comfortable little bed for my two nights here at the church. Wouldn’t seem like much to me at home, but sleeping on the floor for so long has made it seem like such a luxury. The intense heat has made me consider the significance of the shade, the breeze, and the rain. I would normally just stay inside in the air conditioning. There was an intense rain in Asuncion this week. Sheets of rain like I have not seen here before, and it brought with it a brief and rejuvenating cold snap. I would not have appreciated it so much if it had not been 45 °C earlier in the week. (For those of you who don­’t know, in degrees Fahrenheit that is….really freaking hot.) Here in the Chaco they continue to wait for some significant rain—they have been waiting for 7 months now. It makes you wonder how anything could survive here, and also makes the frog in my bathroom a nearly miraculous occurrence. At work on Monday (with the street kids) we had to work outside all day because our landlord had failed to pay the electricity, so power had been cut. This meant no lights and no fans on the hottest day yet. But we got by, and I bet that this week will seem much easier with such simple, normal conveniences as a cool, well-lit place to work and talk.

I haven’t actually told you much about my work and life these days. Things with the street kids are…always challenging. Sometimes frustrating, sometimes lovely, sometimes heart-breaking, sometimes hopeful, sometimes just annoying. I have found the older ones to be the most likable—easiest to talk to and bond with—which is the opposite of what I expected. I think the littlest ones feel the need to act tough all the time, probably because they are littler. So they can be a real pain in the ass when the other kids are watching. If you catch them one-on-one, though, it is a different story. One kid named Luis is nearly always causing trouble and has little to no patience for the fact that I often cannot understand his mumbled speech, which is a disastrous mix of Spanish, Guarani, and street language. We got to walk together for a few blocks, and he asked me all sorts of questions including, “Why don’t you come here more often? You should come here more often…” Baffling, since I was pretty sure he hated my guts. Abel is another one of my favorites. He was stabbed about a month ago, but has been recovering well. He is sixteen but tall for his age, smart, talkative, and charismatic. He is one of the few kids who actually remembers things from our “English class.” It is so easy to imagine him being successful at a number of things, but he is also a force to be reckoned with. The other kids look up to him a lot, so when Abel is focused, the other kids are focused. Conversely, when Abel is goofing off no one is going to pay attention. I have realized that I have to get Abel on board if I want things to go well. So yes, progress…