Hobnobbing with Big Wigs, Mud Biking, and Living Solo

            As a follow up to last week’s entry I’d like to start this update by discussing the educational congress that took place a week ago. My conjecture wasn’t too far from the truth when I said that it a bunch of important looking people came from Asuncion to put on a series of presentations for all the area school teachers. I didn’t personally attend the presentations even though I would have probably been more than welcome to attend. Being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Paraguay is a pretty big deal in the eyes of important government officials, non-profit organizations, and schoolteachers. I often times feel that my title as a Peace Corps Volunteer entails a lot more respect than I think I actually deserve given my professional experience prior to my arrival here, but I am always a welcome sight at the schools, where I can walk up at any time to grab the attention of the teachers, the municipality, and casa de cultura. I guess that relationship is a testament to the success Peace Corps has had her in the pass, and Paraguay’s historical support of the US and it’s foreign policy, but I digress.

Mercedes Lugo de Maidana curtsy of Kristin 

            From all indications the presentations were done by a series of representatives from the Ministry of Education and the Fundación San Sebastian (Saint Sebastian Foundation), a non-profit that provides educational materials and resources for both schools and students. From all indications, the presentations were chock full of text heavy PowerPoint slides that were less than stimulating. Supposedly, that style of presentation is not entirely uncommon, but it still seems to me that it would be a lot better to make a seminar for teachers more didactic so what they learned could be transferred into their classrooms. From what I gathered, the way the presentations were done demonstrates the very top down approach Paraguay takes in education. The Ministry of Education is like an absolute monarchy in that whatever materials they produce or teaching methods they encourage are the ones that are used by teachers regardless of the potential challenges associated with the uses of Spanish and Guarani as the primary form of language in a given classroom. I was glad I didn’t subject myself to those presentations because aside from my own language barriers I am sure there was plenty of technical jargon that I wouldn’t understand in English let alone in Spanish. At the end of the day, it seemed as thought he congress was a smashing success. Fundación San Sebastian put together an art activity to all the area kids to come and paint pictures using all kinds of different art supplies. There were probably close to 20 kids there when I went, which denoted a success in my book.

Sadly, I missed my opportunity to meet the first lady of Paraguay, Mercedes Lugo de Maidana, who showed up about an hour after I left. I was pretty upset that I blew my chance to meet her. Both Mike and Kristin told me that she sort of just showed up randomly and started shaking peoples hands. An interesting thing about the first lady of Paraguay is that she is not in fact the wife of the President Fernando Lugo, but rather his sister. Lugo won the 2008 election by essentially running on his own ticket. He is a catholic archbishop, and many people believe that his victory was largely a result of Paraguayans religious affinity over the bitter rivalries of the 2 main opposition parties the Colorados and the Liberals. So when he shocked everyone in his victory one of his first acts, since he had no wife, was to declare his sister the first lady of Paraguay. Anyway I didn’t find out about this until it was too late, and despite my efforts to enter the congress to see if she was still there I found out that I was a little too late. Instead, I got my picture taken with the people you see to your left. The man is the Intendente (superintendent) of the municipality of O’Leary. I think the American equivalent would be a combination of mayor and county commissioner. The woman I know less about. I am pretty sure she is a representative from the Ministry of Education, but for all I know she could be the head of it or just some random employee. I’ll have to ask around to find out more.  The congress lasted a day and school was scheduled to resume the next day. That was until the rain came.

My ride

One of the biggest challenges I face on a daily basis is my limited method of transportation. I have my bike, which to date has had its breaks broken 3 time, the pedal fall off once, the water bottle holder break, and a decent size rock screw up the chain. Not to mention the seat is like riding on top of a rock with every bump, there is not such thing as a smooth road where I live, does things to me that only my male counterparts can fully comprehend. Nevertheless, it is bar none my fastest mode of transportation, and I rely on it daily. The problems mainly arise when the rain comes. Where I live the streets are all made of dirt. Dirt plus rain equals mud, mud plus Thomas on a bike equals trouble. I never ride my bike in the rain, but have found myself of late forced to face the streets of O’Leary shortly after heavy rains In sections the road dries quickly, but in other parts it takes up to a week before I am able to get through without spinning my tires through deep soggy mud that reminds one of a haven for pigs. To date, and I knock on wood while writing this, I have yet to fall, but on those days after it rains I have had several brushes with catastrophe of late. What I will say about the roads after it rains is that there is a substantial improvement concerning the amount of dust that enters my lungs, and for that I am grateful. As for my bike, I still cannot tell if the bike itself is a faulty piece of equipment or whether it is the most well put together bike on the market that is the poor victim of rough riding day in and day out. My heart wants to side with the plight of my bike’s circumstances, but my head is telling me that there has to be a better option for the Paraguayan county side. I believe this because the bikes that I see many Paraguayan’s riding are often times old worn down bicycles that look like they were built circa 1970. I think those are the bikes that have managed to stand the test of time, and it is the newer bikes with many more parts that while advertised as a rugged mountain bike that can stand up to anything is in reality inadequate to survive in the uneven country roads where I live.

Trench connecting the well from to the water tank

Water Tank

Speaking of where I live, last week marked my official move to my new house. The last of my things were placed inside my two rooms dwelling on April 13^th marking the 4-month anniversary of moving to O’Leary. The process at times was hellacious, and as I write this I am still without consistent running water or electricity both of which are problems that will likely be remedied by weeks end. Yesterday my host Dad, Julio, and I dug a trench to hook up the water pump to the holding tank on top of the house, put a light in one of the rooms, put together the outdoor light that is still for some reason missing a part, and fiddled around with the electricity for an hour before we decided that we would have to get someone from the power company to help us out. I don’t have a table or dresser, but I do have a couple of chairs, a bed, a modern bathroom, and a sink inside the house. I am also lucky enough to have 6 mandarin orange trees, so yesterday I spent probably an our eating oranges to kill time. As for food, I am still taking advantage of the kindly nature of Kristin, Mike, and my former host family’s invitations for food. I by the food and they let me use their kitchens to cook. Not the most convenient situation, but doable for a bit until we get this electricity thing squared away.

Next week I have what is called 3-month reconnect in the training center where I spent my first 10 weeks in Paraguay. I still don’t know why it is called 3-month reconnect when it takes place 4 and a half months after we swore in as volunteers, but its not my job to ask those questions. I am pretty excited to have Nilda’s, my former host mom, cooking for a week, and to see everyone from my training group. By all indications the training is structured more or less the same way it was during or initial training. In a lot of ways it is kind of like a vacation for me being able to leave O’Leary for a week. I haven’t left in close to 2 months and reconnect is timed well with my desire to get away. I am sure I’ll have plenty to about reconnect next week, so look for another update then.

The Culture of Chipa, Damian, and a Gran Pollada

Chipa

The week leading up to Good Friday and Easter known as Semana Santa in Spanish (Saints Week) is a pretty big deal in Paraguay. The country is over 90% Catholic meaning that schools are closed starting Wednesday and remain that way until the following Monday. Fasting occurs beginning on Friday and lasts until Sunday. However, when I say they fast I mean they make and eat copious amounts of chipa as they only source of sustenance. Now I am sure you’re asking yourself what in the world is chipa? To be honest, I have no idea what a strong comparison would be, but if I had to guess I’d say it’s essentially a really dense biscuit with the aftertaste of old cheese. Paraguayans eat it in the same fashion American’s would eat a bagel in the sense that it is a quick snack that is often times eaten for breakfast. The way it is made is a very important cultural tradition. One mixes a bunch of eggs in a plastic tub with queso Paraguaya (arguably the worst smelling cheese ever made, and somehow doesn’t always need to be refrigerated), mandioca flour (yucca), corn meal, lard and anis for flavoring. Kneading the dough requires huge amounts of forearm strength because of the denseness, and once it has reached the appropriate form it is molded into either a small football shape or a circle that looks like a doughnut. The uncooked chipas are then placed on individual banana leaves and cooked in a tatakua, which is a traditional ceramic oven made from bricks and mud. The oven is heated using wood and in less than 15 minutes the chipa is done. I am not the biggest fan of chipa, but as you can probably imagine when that is the only thing to eat around the house one learns to live with it. When it is taken straight out of the oven is the only time you could call it soft. It hardens to almost a rock like state of being after no more than an hour. Currently the family has several plastic bags full of chipa, which has slowly been consumed over the course of the last coupe of days with your truly partaking in his fair share.

Tatakua

            As an industry, chipa, is bustling in Paraguay. Even McDonald’s has gotten on the bandwagon by recently introducing it’s own style of chipa. Every time I get on a bus a woman carrying a huge wicker basket gets on board to sell chipas for 2, 000 ($0.50) Guaranis apiece. It is quite the talent being able to stand in the aisles with a huge basket while the bus is clocking 120 km per hour, but seeing the kind of business it gets shows why so many people do it. Often times the type of chipa being sold on the bus depends on the bus company you are riding on. Different companies have different relationships with different chiparias. It is always funny to hear that some people only ride certain buses because of the chipa that is sold on them. Since I have arrived in O’Leary, I have left to go somewhere that was over 2 hours away only twice, but both times I was instructed by my family to bring back chipa. I am always amazed that they can tell what bus I took based on the chipa and how excited they are to have it. When I eat it I get the sensation that I am chewing on flaky, greasy, rubbery rock, but I guess I haven’t been here long enough to have developed the refined taste as my Paraguayan counterparts have. Maybe with time I can develop a better appreciation for the institution that is chipa, but as of this moment I couldn’t stand another bite.

Painting the Streets

On a completely different note this Monday is an important day for the town of O'Leary because the annual educational congress is convening from Asuncion to discuss pressing school issues. What this means for the town of O’Leary and the municipality is a lot of last minute beautification work to impress the representatives from the national government are ongoing. This past Monday I spent the entire morning painting walls, curbs, and the bases of trees white to cover up the dirt and grime that has accumulated in the year since the last congress. What amazes me about the preparation for the event is how everyone seems to be busting their asses trying to get things ready, but no one seems to know what exactly will happen during the meetings. Everyone I ask just tells me it is about education, and will have important people coming from Asuncion. There is no mention as to what topics are going to be talked about, why the schools need to be closed, or who exactly is coming. Now I could go on for hours about how the education system here and it’s very basic management problems that prevent many students from receiving an adequate education, but I will abstain for the sake of everyone who is reading this. All I’ll say is that I don’t understand why school would be closed if important meeting were going to take place about how the schools are run. Wouldn’t it be better to have the schools operating to get a better sense of what issues should be prioritized? I guess it makes sense to close they schools to talk to the teachers, but I am not even sure if the teachers in the area are required to do anything. I get the impression that the opinions of many teachers, not to mention students will not be included in the conversations, but then again I don’t know because no one will tell me. I’ll plan to follow this up in my next update.

Damian's Artwork

            Something else that I have been meaning talk about for a while is my 3-year-old host brother Damian. The name aptly describes his personality in the sense that he is a little devil at times. I can always rely on Damian to be the one screaming when he doesn’t get what he wants. One of the things he hates the most is washing his hair, a revelation that came to fruition this week when Iris, my host mom, mentioned that he needed to wash his hair. You would think that he was being skinned alive by the shrieks that were emanating from the bathroom. At the top of his lungs he was crying “socorro! socorro!” (help!, help!). Naturally when it was all over and they gave him some soda to drink it was as if it had never happened. The other day in my attempt to bond with the little rascal I decided that I would let him use the magic markers I brought from America to draw me a picture. Mathias and Nazareth also added their contributions, but Damian stole the show with his masterpiece that extended to canvases other then the paper I had provided for him, namely my feet. I had to take a shower to get all the marker off my feat because not only did he draw on them constantly while I was trying to clean up, but he also thought it would be a good idea to remove all the lids from the markers and leave them all over the room. Every time I tried to clean up he would cry so I was forced to let him has his way until he was reluctantly pulled away from my feet by his sister. The pictures are some of the masterpieces composed during that night, and I have to say that they will most definitely be hung on the walls of my new house whenever I move in.

            I also had the chance to experience my first school fundraising event, which took the form of a gran pollada (grilled chicken sale). For 7,000 ($1.75) Guaranis I bought a half chicken, some rice salad and a bunch of mandioca. I got to admit the food was pretty good, but I am not sure if they turned much of a profit. The event had been planned for 2 weeks, so it was nice to see that there was time to sell tickets around the community. The problem was that most people seemed to wait until the last minute to sell their tickets. In my experience to thus far I have noticed an extreme lack of scheduling on the part of the people I most closely work with. More oft than not people don’t plan their schedule’s more than a day or so in advance. A good example of that has been my house. Everything that has been done to it has happened all of a sudden. The bathroom, the sink, the electrical have all had been accomplished one day completely randomly. There was no time frame, no planning, and not dates. Things got done when I prompted them. Once they got started it got finished, for the most part, but I still find it amazing how people don’t work with other people’s timeframes. Things get done on your own time not when it is on someone else’s clock. People seem to think very much about the present, and less so about the past and future. It makes for an interesting work relationship, and to date I am still trying to figure out that balance.