Miguel

       Since I started writing this blog almost a year and a half ago I have composed the majority of the entries after a particular moment or event that I felt warranted documentation. To this point, I have been unable to comment on my connections with individuals that I have interacted with not just in O’Leary, where I live, but in Paraguay in general. For volunteers all over Paraguay, and I assume all over the world, it is easy to generalize the people we live, work, and develop relationships with as an amorphous categorization. Classifying every host country national as “The Paraguayans” is what I say. The Paraguayans this and the Paraguayans that have become a second nature to me, and dominate my own individual categorization for my interpersonal relationships for numerous reasons. Principally I believe that the bulk of my conversations I have with non-Paraguayans are with other volunteers in Paraguay.  The obvious reason for that is that they too are relatively isolated within a similar cultural context. I feel as though that limits my ability to candidly discuss my Paraguayan friends and contacts to people who don’t know the individuals I have grown close to in any finite detail, or to anyone who reads this blog. I feel as though it is essential that I somehow delve into the relationships that I have formed over my time here, but I have struggled mightily to find someone to write about that I feel encompasses what it means to be a Paraguayan now and will it’ll mean in it’s future. After much thought on this topic my interaction with one student at the school I live next to have provided me with the inspiration to scratch the surface of the impacts the people here have had on me. I feel strongly that no one including  my neighbors, friends here, or even families I feel I don’t know well who see my passing by their house on my bike everyday know it or not the people here have had more impact on me than any other aspect of this experience. In particular my limited but significant interaction with a 6^th grade student named Miguel has given me a fascinating perspective of being young and in Paraguay more than he will ever know.

       Before I go into details about the interaction I have had with Miguel it important for me to mention that many of the details, events, and facts of this story are things that I inferred from somebody telling me something, or are my own interpretation of details I heard from hearsay. That in and of itself is important to point out because of how prevalent the nature of orally passing information is in small communities here in Paraguay. At times I feel as though I get most information about news in Paraguay, things happening in the community, and problems from gossip or just hearing people talk. Too often I don’t get it. Some of that has to do with language ability, and my lack of familiarity with the historical social interactions between groups of people that live here. I also often miss colloquialisms that people use when describing certain situations. To date, I am sure that my own personal existence here was and is a big topic of conversations amongst people around me that I am not wise to at all. With that being said I’ll remind anybody reading this that again these are my opinions not always based on fact or logic; two things that are not always the most important in the tittle-tattle of the community.

       I first met Miguel about a year ago when school started. He stood out for a couple of reasons the most being that he had red hair in a class of seven other 6^th grade students who all had darker hair At the time, my language ability was shoddy and I had a hard enough time communicating in Spanish let alone Guarani. That meant when I walked into the 6^th grade classroom for the first time to do an activity as a precursor to the world map we later painted,  I must come off as a big joke. I still remember struggling to instruct the students to draw to the best of their abilities a map of the world. Everyone in the class sat their in silence, including Miguel, for at least 2-minutes before the teacher came back and said something in rapid fire Guarani that got them sort of working. Miguel lives with his uncle and 5 cousins at one the houses down the street from the school 40 yards from where I live. His uncle, a short man everyone refers to as Torito (Little Bull) for reasons that always seem to come back to his genitals, had built my bathroom on my house with help of Miguel. During the school year when he wasn’t in school I would see him wondering around the neighborhood shooting birds with a sling shot, picking fruit, or playing soccer. I would see him almost everyday doing something, but remarkably enough he would never talk to me. I found Miguel, for unknown reasons, to be incredibly shy towards me. I assume a lot of it had to do with his tendency to speak Guarani first over Spanish, but I also thought it could be as simple as me being intimidating looking and foreign. As more time past he would reluctantly come over to my house with his cousin Allie to pick mandarin oranges. With time, and candy I had shipped from the states, he would come over to watch me do whatever I was doing at that time. It didn’t matter if I was just sitting outside my house, working on my garden fence, or cooking Miguel would just show up. He wouldn’t say much if he said anything at all, and would leave after no more than a half an hour. This was a regular visit several times a week for my first couple of months in my house until all of a sudden it stopped.

       He was still going to school, but with a noticeable lack of frequency. After a while I asked the teachers what happened to Miguel. They told me that he moved back in with his mother who lives in the next barrio (neighborhood) over from me. I remember asking this question on a random school day in which he should have been there. I asked if was going to another school, and was told no. I then had to ask the seemingly obvious question of where was he. The remarkable thing about what teachers said to me was how nonchalant they were in their response. It was as if it was common for a kid like Miguel to be that situation that it barely warranted a second thought. They informed that his mother was very poor and was making him work at one the brick making places that are riddled throughout the area. Furthermore they mentioned that not being in school wasn’t good for him, but for obvious reasons were powerless to do anything about it especially given the seemingly dire financial straights his mother appeared to be in. I felt powerless, but I too was helpless to do anything because his mother is his guardian. Moreover, I got the impression that while this is more than likely extremely illegal to make a kid work instead of go to school that nothing would really be done about it. Throughout the rest of the school year I would see Miguel, but I had a sneaking suspicion that he was falling further and further behind his peers, and would more than likely struggle after leaving elementary school at the end of the year. Unfortunately, I think I might have been wrong with thinking that there will be a next year of school.

       One day not too long ago I was with Iris, my host mother and principal of the school where I work, who told me that Miguel will be working full time instead of going school. She didn’t provide details, and obviously there was little evidence from the impacted party that I could collaborate with, but in my heart I knew it was true. Having fallen behind in school and having to work at the tender age of 12 to help support his mother, or at least that was the claim, would drastically limit his perceived need for more school. After all, he knows how to make bricks, drive a motorcycle, and build stuff. He does his work quietly, listens to his elders, and is able to make some money in the process. Now with all that being said I cannot 100% confirm how accurate this account is, but during this summer I have seen him all over doing a variety of odd jobs with men twice to three time his age. That indicates to me that school is probably not on the horizon for him.

       I am not sure why this bothers me so much, or why I find it so impactful that it inspired me to write it down? I guess it is because in the year that I have known Miguel he went from a prepubescent elementary school kid who was slowly but surely emerging from shell in school to a much taller working man helping to support a family that isn’t all his own. The men he works with almost all come off to me as men who were cast into similar situations when they kids 5-30 years ago. While this isn’t something that is as common as it was before, or for that matter even something that considered wrong, it pains to see him not school even if he was cast into an uncompromising position that he making the best of. I think seeing that transformation in such short a time is an interesting corollary to Paraguay as a whole. A generation ago the country was half the size and poorer than it is today. Families had to work to subsist, and given that it was not long ago those residual effects still trickle down to the poorest Paraguayans today. Despite major developments since the fall of the Strossner regime and even during his time Paraguay it is still very much a developing country. Opportunities exist more now than ever as globalizations impacts become more prevalent and the standard of living increases, but all that development doesn’t mean a fair opportunity for everyone involved in those complex mechanisms. It will take generations more for Paraguay to get the point where all children stay school graduate, and are not forced to work to provide for their families. I guess what I am saying is that reading something, making inferences, or talking a class on how globalization and development works is one thing. Seeing a boy in the context of developing part of the world and the challenges he faces is quite different.

       I still see Miguel all over the place, and he always greets me with a big smile and thumbs up. I always respond in the same way. The hand that he was dealt is tough one, but I take comfort in seeing that smile that he will figure out a way to make a life for himself in ways that I’ll probably never know about. He might not come around like he used to, or stop me in the street to say a few passing words like he did only a year ago, but he is still a great kid from what I have seen of him and that I find inspiring in spite of those tough odds he faces moving forward.              

Bolivia

 

       When I found out that I would be going to be a Peace Corps Volunteer in Paraguay and that I would have 48 days of vacation I figured that it would be a perfect opportunity to travel to both Bolivia and Brazil. Little did I know that the process of getting into both countries was very complicated and taxing to the point where I decided to go to both Uruguay and Argentina before I attempted to go to Bolivia and Brazil. My concern was that I wouldn’t be able to convince anyone to come with me to Bolivia. The visa process alone is enough to deter many people a process that includes, but is not limited to a 2 copies of my passport with one notarized that is used to get my police record in Paraguay, several 4 cm x 4 cm heads shots with a red background, a copy of my Paraguayan residency card, a copy of my credit card, airline reservations, hotel reservations, a shot record that proves that I had been vaccinated for yellow fever, and the ultimate kicker $135 upon arrival in Bolivia.

Cochabamba Christ, roughly 1 ft taller than the Christ in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

              At first, I was skeptical about going through the complicated visa process. That was until I was convinced by my friend Kevin, who will be living in Bolivia working for an organization that builds pedestrian bridges in the mountains to connect isolated villages to pathways that lead to larger populations centers, that the end of January would be a perfect time to meet up and travel with him. It didn't take much prodding, and I found myself days after my trip to Uruguay running around Asuncion obtaining the required documentation to be allowed to travel in Bolivia. I turned in everything I needed at the Bolivian embassy in Asuncion on January 5^th, collected the documents on the 23^rd, and was on a plane to its biggest city, Santa Cruz, on the 24^th. Initially I thought that because Bolivia and Paraguay are South America’s poorest countries with Bolivia being the poorest and also landlocked that they would have a lot of similarities. I couldn't have been more wrong in that assumption for a variety of reasons.

Mt. Chacaltaya outside of La Paz

                For starters, the history of the two countries is very different. Bolivia was and is rich with natural resources, and during its time as a Spanish colony was producing massive amounts of gold and silver to the point where most coins minted by the Spanish from the 16-18^th centuries was done in Bolivia. In modern times Bolivia has discovered both oil, and large amounts of natural gas, which power a large majority of its cars at very low prices. Paraguay on the other hand, was the first country in South America to gain its independence from Spain doing so in 1811, and it was, unlike the rest of Spanish South America, not liberated by Simon Bolivar or José Francisco de San Martin. Paraguay was located in the heart of South America, along the Paraguay river, and while widely considered a paradise lacked the natural resource wealth of the other colonies that either had large amounts of gold and silver or access to the sea.

                Bolivia geographically ranges from the arid area of the Chaco in the Southeast, mountains along the western boarder, and tropical Jungle in the Northeast. Bolivians live in a very diverse range of climates and regions while Paraguayans predominately live in the bottom third of the country, which one would consider sub-tropical. A vast area known as the Chaco that has limited infrastructure separates the major populations centers of both countries resulting in a relative lack of trade, and as a result fostered vastly different cultures. The most notable interactions between the two nations took place from 1932-1935 over an area of the Chaco that was believed to contain vast deposits of oil. The American company Standard Oil backed Bolivia with Shell backing Paraguay. The resulting conflict despite Bolivia’s superior numbers and technology led to the death of approximately 120,000 soldiers with Paraguay winning the war and therefore gaining a chunk of Bolivian territory in the process. Paraguay achieved victory primarily  because of its  ability to use Guarani in radio communication.   Paraguayans had two other advantages.  They were  more accustomed to the harsh climate and they had none of the racial tensions that existed among members of the Bolivian army, made up of white officers and Indian soldiers.   Since the end of the war the histories of the two nations have continued their unique paths, and was very evident during my time there.

Lake Titikaka

                The differences that seemed most obvious to me was the public transportation system, the peoples' interactions, and the appreciation for public works. Traveling in either country is a challenge. In Paraguay the spectrum of buses one can take from one place to another varies from wooden box on wheels to spaceship like dream liners. In the major cities there are buses to other major cities that consistently leave throughout the day, and rarely take more that 8 hours to arrive in one place. Bolivia, on the other hand, is quite the opposite.  The country is not only larger with populations living in all corners of the country, but the infrastructure is much less developed given the geographical challenges that exist in maintaining a complex highway system and drastically varying altitudes and climates. In fact, only 7.9% of the roads in Bolivia were paved in 2009 according to the World Bank. Paraguay, while not drastically better achieved 11% of roads paved in 2002. Granted Paraguay is flatter and much less prone to natural disasters like landslides. As a result most bus travel in Bolivia requires an over night bus over the mountains and through the woods. I spent two  of my first four nights in the country on a bus, which left me perpetually sore and tired. Dealing with the altitude was also brutal given that many of the cities are over 12,000 feet above sea level. The most frustrating part of traveling though was the way the bus terminals operated. Most bus companies, given the distance between most traveled routes, would all leave at the same times every day meaning that 40-70 double Decker buses are trying to leave the undersized terminals at the same time causing almost every bus to be delayed by between 1-2 hours on average. There are also thousands of people trying to leave at the same time causing the staging platforms to overflow with people. I never understood why there wasn’t a better system of staggering the buses throughout the day. The only conclusion I could come up with was that because of the distances people would only want to travel overnight to arrive early the next day, but that seemed too logical. While I am sure that is a factor, it seemed to me that long distance travel in that system has become an ingrained mentality, and that it will take a dramatic improvement in infrastructure and government investment to change.



Plaza Uruguay, Asuncion

                One of the things I love most about the people in Paraguay is how friendly and open they are. Sure it takes a bit of effort to go over to someone's house, introduce yourself, and make an effort with Guarani, but the rewards of doing those little things are returned tenfold in generosity through food, terere, and social outlets. Granted I have never spent much time in Bolivia, my trip was only 13 days, but my interactions with street vendors, bus drivers, and waitresses at restaurants was far less pleasant than they have been in Paraguay. One particular instance that stands out was when I was walking the streets of La Paz with my friend Brook. The streets were overflowing with vendors selling everything from produce, to Halloween masks. Brook wanted to buy and apple and asked how much it would cost?  She said 5 Bolivianos for 5 apples in a sack, roughly $0.75. The woman also had individual apples sitting out on top of each other. When Brook said she only wanted 1 the woman refused to sell it to her not stating a reason, and continuing her conversation with the other woman sitting next to her completely ignoring us. That strange interaction manifested itself throughout the trip in many different forms. Paraguayans seemingly go out of their way to be helpful even to the point where they will tell you the wrong answer instead of saying they don’t know. Bolivians are much more inclined to ignore your question by responding in a way that isn’t quite what you asked for. A good example of that was when I was trying to get information about boarding a bus from Santa Cruz to Cochabamba. The terminal was flooded with people and I had no idea how to get on a bus. My friend Kevin was trying to deal with what we do with our bags, and I was trying to figure out where we needed to go. I walked up to a kid who worked for the bus company that we bought tickets from and ask “What platform do we need to go to get on the bus?” He looked at my ticket and answered my question by saying “Cochambaba.” I said “that is where I am going where do I go to get on the bus” His response this time was “you paid 90 Bolivianos.” After asking for the third time I finally got the answer I was looking for, but not before I got supremely frustrated by how difficult it was to get that question answered. Now I admit that my accent can be a bit strong, but it wasn’t like I was asking a complicated question. In Paraguay the response to that type of question is something like “the platform is over there” instead of going around the question. Those little subtleties are the things I picked up the most thought my travels in comparing the two countries.




La Paz

                The last and most stark contrast to me existed in the form of the public works. Both Paraguay and Bolivia have long histories, and a long list of heroes to commemorate. Both countries have monuments and statues to those heroes, but in Bolivia the public squares, parks, and statues are immaculate while in Paraguay they often look decrepit and graffiti covered. Also the number of parks and public plazas where much higher in Bolivia than Paraguay despite the fact the Bolivia is supposedly a poorer nation. That culture baffled me. I still don’t know the reason for that, and maybe never will. My instinct though led me to look at the economies of the two countries. Bolivia makes a lot of money because of its mineral resources, natural gas, and oil. Paraguay is predominately an agriculture economy with large revenues coming from selling excess power it generates from the three major dams it has. Paraguay sadly is one of the most corrupt countries in Latin America, and despite it’s revenues it seems to me that Bolivia uses its money more for social programs, public work projects, and their maintenance more effectively than Paraguay does. Bolivia is the worlds 118th ranked country in terms of corruption with Paraguay ranking 154th. While neither ranking is good it is a pretty stark contrast  that is evident in both countries public spaces.

                Having lived in Paraguay for almost a year and a half it has become a natural for me to compare it to other countries I visit in the region. My instinct told me that there would be dramatic similarities between the countries, but that instinct was wrong. Everything from the climate to the food is different, but given their small sizes, landlocked status, and poverty rankings it is easy for people to compare the two countries on paper, but the reality is far different from the statistics.