Kindness. Compassion. Love.

While savoring the last days of my vacation in the United States, I received the news of the tragic death of Peace Corps Paraguay Volunteer, Emily Balog. While there are so many things to say after an incident like this, understatements and conciseness will serve me better so as not to misrepresent my understanding of Emily, her family and friends, her life, her death. We had only met once, but when reading the news, not only did I feel stunned as a member of this Volunteer community, but also because Emily was a Carolina girl, a Tarheel, and as I read the story of the harrowing car accident that took her life, I was in Boone, North Carolina in my home, surrounded by my family. To know that a couple hours down the road, a family's entire past, reality, and dreams were being upheaved and their hearts torn in two while we were all sitting around watching football and folding laundry, like I'm sure they had done many a Sunday evening, was unbearably painful. Core shaking.


Living by yourself in a foreign country for 2 years puts a lot of time on your hands and a lot of thoughts in your head. Like all people, I have probably spent way too much time pondering life and death, and the only conclusion I have come to is not a profound product discovered in the midst of such mental agony but rather an acknowledgement of a simple principle that I have always known. And that is, the best thing we can do in this life is be kind and treat one another with love and compassion.


Coming to Paraguay two years ago as a bright-eyed, optimistic Peace Corps Volunteer, I thought it was about a lot more, cliche phrases like "making a difference" ... "giving back" ... "leaving the world a better place" all ringing in my ears. Now I've realized it's so much more simple than that. Because it's not an accomplishment; it's a way of life. It shouldn't be a competition or a campaign; it's a duty of humankind. And if everyone, up to politicians and rich men, regarded each action with those principles in mind, there wouldn't exist so many conflicts and discrepancies waiting to be solved.

So I will meditate it with each breath I take throughout the ins and outs of my daily life and channel it into each interaction and every decision. "Be kind and treat one another with love and compassion." And in that, I will have confidence that I have done my best, that I have served this world. Because I'm sure people remember and appreciated Emily's kindness, compassion, and love the most.

Sisters!

Argentina... Mexico... Honduras... Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador... And now to be added to the list of countries that my sister Emily and I have visited together - Chile and Paraguay.
Emily has always loved traveling. It fits her very well - she's adventurous, social, confident. I, on the other hand, was always a bit more sensitive and unsure, a homebody and a scaredy cat. But as younger sisters are, I was inspired by Emily and her exciting travel experiences. By the people she met, the places she saw and fell in love with, and the person that was awakened inside of her. In the end, seeing this in her was what pushed me to take my first trips, and I am so thankful she turned me on to the beauty of travel.

Although we both desperately love to travel, we're not necessarily the best travelers. We tend to just show up somewhere, without having done any research or made any plans. And that is exactly what happened for our trip to Chile. We booked a random hotel the day before we arrived and planned to meet there. After a long day of travel, I was so happy and relieved to open our hotel door and find myself reunited with my sister after a year and a half!
For the next 4 days, we spent getting to know Santiago and its surroundings. Since we did not come in any way prepared, each day we had to begin by asking, "What are we going to do today?" and each night with "Where are we going to sleep?" Due to our limited time and budget in combination with Chile's long, skinny shape, we were unable to travel very far out of Santiago, but we enjoyed what we could. We explored the city, visited the coast, did some hiking, toured a winery, went to Starbucks and saw Harry Potter 7! Ya know, the important things...


After Chile, I was anxious to introduce my sister to Paraguay. As my travel buddy and someone who also knows and loves todo lo que es Latin America, I knew she would enjoy and appreciate it. She was able to converse with the people in my community, giving her and them a deeper exchange. We spent Sunday with asado, cerveza, and futbol at Benito's house. The next night Benito and his sister, Zulema came over to make pizza. In the following days, we toured the town, stopped by the school, visited Ceferina. Oh and became Glee and True Blood addicts.


One evening we were invited to eat mbeju, my favorite Paraguayan food, at a family's house. The family has 6 kids, 2 older teenage boys, 3 girls (Tati 14, Tiara 7, Yamila 5), and a 2 year old "terror" named Kevin. The girls and I are pretty close, and it was fun to spend time with them and my sister. We ate, talked, and laughed at the constant entertainment of Kevin. They gave us presents for the Dia de la Amistad (July 30), and they performed for us their dances from the Escuela de Danza. They wrote letters and made flowers for Emily to take to Mom. It was a really special night. Since I met them, I've had a soft spot for the sisters, and I realized that night watching them play and dance, it's probably because they remind me of Emily and I when we were little.




Between Chile and travel time in Paraguay, it felt like Emily's visit flew by. Before we knew it, I was putting her on a plane with a bunch of Brazilians and Americans, and I was missing her again. For some reason for us, like clockwork, right before we go on a trip, we get this feeling that we don't want to go, and then by the end, we don't want to leave. I was very devastated when Emily left; I had loved being with her, talking and arguing and sharing and giggling as sisters do. Because when you're apart from someone, not only do you miss out on going out and laughing and spending time together, but you miss out on being there for each other, giving advice, giving hugs, wiping away tears. I wish my sister and I could have done all of those things together in the past year and a half, but I guess advice in forms of email, hugs through a computer screen, 2 weeks of traveling, and a sisters' bond and love that transcends oceans, mountains, and miles will have to do for now.
I looove you Sister!!

Great Friends Come to Paraguay

"Yeah I saw Lizzie walking around with her friends - one fat girl and one skinny boy."

When Ceferina repeated to us this man's comment, we died laughing to the point of tears. The hilariousness of this quote sums up my friends' Anna and Ingram's trip to Paraguay. Between hysterical comments, general confusion, and ridiculous outings, we had a ball. So what might 3 Carolina girls in Paraguay do, you might ask??

We talk on the radio.

Three norteamericanas are treated as celebrities in my town, and we were invited to speak on an afternoon radio show. With Ing and Ann speaking little to no Spanish, this was not the most ideal setup for a radio interview, but I played translator. Jorge grilled Ing and Ann with so many questions, and I was back and forth between the languages. At one point, he asked Ingram what was her first impression of Natalio, and I was saying her answer when she caught my eye and said "You are still speaking in English!!" I'm sure we either highly entertained or bored the listening audience with our giggle fits and language barriers, but it was definitely a memorable experience for us.

We go to a birthday party.

My friend Felicia's birthday party was supposed to be a Sunday lunch, but when she found out that I would be picking up my friends on that day, she decided to change it to Monday night and invited the 3 of us. It was ghastly freezing on this particular night, and no amount of bundling up could prepare us for the long night ahead of us. Paraguayan birthday asados are never in any rush, despite the frigid 30s temperature. We arrived around 6:00; the meat was still cooking, and everyone was seated around a charcoal fire, drinking mate. We joined in and rather quickly lost the feeling in our toes and fingers. An hour or two later, it was finally time to eat, and we along with about 20 other people gathered around the tables to enjoy delicious asado, sopa paraguaya, and mandioca. As we leaned back in our chairs, bellies full, the wine started flowing, and someone whipped out a guitar. Pitcher after pitcher, guarani song after after guarani, photo after photo, the party carried on. As Virgilio, the life of the party, was revving up, his son Benito (13) was keeping us entertained with his endless, broken English chatter. Virgilio was intent on dragging each and every female out onto the dance floor, and at one point, Benito said to Ingram, "There are 2 things I hate: drunks and crazies. But I love my dad." Finally somewhere between 10:30 and I'm-an-ice-cube, they brought out the cake. Relieved at the site of something signaling the end, we wolfed the cake and prepared for goodbyes. Then to our surprise... Virgilio showed up with a full pitcher of wine and coke. We made a plan to fill up our cups and drink it fast so that the concoction would run out quicker meaning we could go sooner, but as the pitcher was emptied and refilled, we realized that Virgilio was not at all concerned with the time or the numbness in our toes and was more convinced that we were still enjoying ourselves. Finally we begged Benito enough to whine to his mom enough to cut VIrgilio off and end the party just shy after 1 AM. We couldn't appreciate the experience until a few days later when we had finally warmed up a bit, but it was an outrageous Paraguayan affair that was hard to top.



We go to a waterfall with a pregnant woman who is on bedrest.
(And talk on the radio again.)

While talking on the radio, many people were texting in, inviting us to come visit their school or their house. One mother from my school named Ña Teresa texted in asking if we wanted to go with her to Salto Tembey, a waterfall in Yatytay. We said yes, and she came to pick us up the next afternoon. We rode in her truck and drank mate on our drive down the dirt road. Once we got to the waterfall, we walked around, hopped on rocks, and took pictures. At one point, 40-some year old, 7-month pregnant Ña Teresa in her pink leopard velour suit was crawling out over the rocks and yelled back that she was on bedrest, which made me appreciate even more her kindness and hospitality.

On the way back home, Ña Teresa decided to call back into the radio to give a report of our trip to the waterfall, then having to pass the phone around and translate yet again. Jorge was so excited that we went and was very proud to now call Salto Tembey "an international tourist attraction."

We peel an orange.

"Lizzie's been here a year and doesn't even know how to peel an orange." These were some of Ceferina's first words to my friends as she sat outside her house sucking on sugar cane. She then makes me pluck some oranges off the tree. First she demonstrates how to peel an orange. She then makes Ing and Ann prove their abilities. Then I take the orange and peel it, and she exclaims, "Oh you do know how to peel an orange after all."

We go for a ride in the police truck.

Natalio recently got a new police chief. He is a young excited man from Asuncion, and I have met him several times. When he heard my friends were in town, he tracked me down in the street to invite us to go for a ride in the new police truck. Of course, we said yes. Luckily it was a gorgeous sunny day, and Ing and Ann were able to see the beautiful landscapes of the district of Natalio. We went all over the county and out to Triunfo, the town on the Rio Parana, dividing us from Argentina. We took pictures and of course had to share a Kodak moment with Mr. Aviators himself. After we'd already been riding for more than an hour, he started getting a little carried away and was talking about us all going to eat lunch in San Rafael, about an hour away. I had to cut him off and make up some excuse for why we needed to go home. He of course responded with Ok, tomorrow then, and I had to avoid his phone calls for the next 4 days. But a little awkwardness was worth it for a ride in the police truck.

We have an American party.

Ing and Ann were in town during what was for us Winter Break so looking for some vacation and American-ness, my 2 friends Miguel and Andy also came down to see Erik and I. Saturday night we had a big American party at Erik's house. There was a bonfire, pizza, beer pong; you would have thought we were in Chapel Hill on a Friday night. (Or make that any night of the week.) Our night became perfection when we learned that there was a Paraguayan party in my town so we came back on the bus and went over to the big gym where they have the parties. Unfortunately Paraguayan numbers were low so we didn't party crash; we WERE the party. Dancing, playing soccer, Ingram falling, Andy sitting in the bleachers... It was an eventful time later continued at my house with Harry Potter, hammock chats, and pancakes at 2 am. I guess we showed the Paraguayans how it's done, it's just too bad there were only 10 of them at the party to witness it.

We drink wine & eat fruit & watch the sun set.

There is a big meadow at the edge of my town where people go to walk and play soccer called the Aviacion. It is the cusp of where the town ends and the rolling hills full of cropfields begin, and I just think it's such a pretty, relaxing place. So one evening, ing, Ann, and I went out with a bottle of wine and a bowl of fruit to sit and talk and watch the sun set.
Ignoring the obvious corniness, for me it was really a special time and exemplifies what a wonderful visit we had. Just to be able to be myself, have some girl time with my friends, have two weeks of doing only enjoyable things, let go of all of my worries, and when I couldn't push them out, having people who know and understand me to confide in... It was incredibly refreshing. Having visitors makes me remember who I was and all of the things I did before this, and it helps me bring back those parts of me. I have been undoubtedly blessed with such amazing friends and family who have supported me during this, and some have even taken the time, money, and sacrifice to come know my reality which is such a kind gift. But the most precious gift is knowing that when I come home and am once again uprooted and lost and merging my two worlds, these same people will still be there helping me get through.
I love you Ing and Ann!!
(And all of my other wonderful friends too!!)

bitter.cold.

I have always loved cold weather.
Fall is my favorite season. I love the month of October, the bright changing of the leaves, the crisp, cool breeze on an early autumn night. I love football and pumpkin spice lattes, boots, sweaters and scarves, Halloween and Thanksgiving, and the excitement of winter and Christmas right around the corner. I love snow and ice, hot chocolate and cozy couches, and the nip on your nose as you step out into a winter wonderland.
That being said...
I HATE winter in Paraguay!!!
June and July have turned into dreaded months for me, and I despise cold weather here. The Paraguayans say - How are you so cold if you live where it snows? People in the United States imagine - It can't be that bad. Let me paint you a picture...
During the day temperatures linger between 40-60 degrees. When the sun goes down, temperatures dip into the 40s and 30s, occasionally frosting overnight. Add the humidity, making the cold even heavier.
The weather in itself though is not what makes the winter so miserable. It's the fact that you cannot escape it. Houses and buildings are made of brick or wood with no insulation. Oftentimes, there are holes and broken windows where the wind can enter. There is no heat or fireplace. People sometimes light charcoal or have a small electric heater, but there really is no way to heat up a room. The most common and enjoyable ways to stay warm are drinking mate, sitting in the sun, or laying bundled up in your bed.
The cold is so terrible; it's impossible to fully describe. You can't feel your toes, you have a chill that continuously runs up and down your spine. And, I guess as it has to, life continues just as normal. People still work, there is still school, people still have birthday parties and meetings, despite how hard it is to get up in the morning or how many layers they have to don.


Despite the cold and the numbness, the bitterness that I feel inside and out is what does me in during the Paraguayan winter. And the hardest thing is deciphering whether it comes from the shame of the luxuries of central heating, warm clothes, and cars that spoiled me in the States or the resentment for the way people just indifferently adapt to less-than-pleasant circumstances rather than changing them.
Or maybe it's just from the cold itself.

Are you two brothers??

My goodbye with Mom and Brian was eased by the fact that my other brother, Will, would be staying with me for 3 more weeks. Unlike the visit with my family which was back to back with plans and schedules, these 3 weeks with Will were much more open and tranquilo, these being euphemisms for slightly slow and boring. Through the span of his 5 weeks here, Will got to experience the full spectrum of my life here, with its highs and lows, sun and rain, social outings and down times, endless chatter and silence.
A majority of our time in Paraguay, we spent in Natalio at my house. We would wake up every morning at 7 to the clanging, hammering, as well as singing of the construction workers next door. (Whyyy does everything have to start at or before 7 AM?!?!?!?!) Our days were usually centered around one specific event, and we spent the rest of the time bumming around. Since I conveniently broke my Internet modem the day my family arrived, we were left with an even more genuine Peace Corps experience seeing as we were cut off from our source of contact, information and entertainment. Will went through quite a few Sudoku books, and I spent lots of time reading and writing. As you can imagine, the best part though were the countless thoughtful, inquisitive conversations that we had. Seeing as we haven't lived together in over 6 years, it was great having the liberty of time to kind of get to know more deeply the people we have each become.
We also watched a lottt of movies! My best bud Erik is constantly switching around movies and TV shows with other Volunteers and has stocked my Mac with a very extensive collection. (It is nothing compared to his external hard drive though!) We made it through all 7 Harry Potters, a majority of Planet Earth, and a couple classics such as Talladega Nights and The Hangover. One of the most interesting movies we watched was Restrepo, a documentary on the war in Afghanistan. It was one of those long conversation starters, and we both found ourselves unsure as to what to feel. Ironically enough this coincided with the killing of Osama Bin Laden, which we discovered in the cyber cafe, giving us yet another topic to discuss. On that same day, I had gone out for a run and ran into the 2 Mormons in my town. When I stopped to say hi to them, I commented to my fellow American the news, seeing as they are limited to even less Internet access than me. The American Mormon made some weird comments in response; then we said bye, and I continued on my run. I was already a couple blocks away when I realized it -- the Mormon had thought I said OBAMA was killed!! In a state of panic, I turned around immediately, running through the streets asking people where the Mormons had gone. When I hadn't found them, I had to finish my run with a guilty conscience. "The poor guy thinks our president has been assassinated, and it's all my fault!" One block from my house in a rush to tell Will about the misunderstanding, and who do I conveniently see but my suit-sporting friends waiting for me on the corner. Apparently they too had realized the mistake and had come to clear up the confusion. We laughed and laughed, and Will was craaacked when I got home and told him.
Luckily we didn't spend everyday holed up in my house. We had lots of invitations for social events, lunches, terere dates, and birthday parties. "Wili" as he soon came to be called in town, was such a charmer with the Paraguayans! Although they couldn't really understand each other, Wili came to make many friends. Despite the language barrier, the kids loved to play with him, and the adults loved to joke with him. On the day of the Paraguayan soccer rivalry game, Will quickly chose Olimpia as his team and cracked everyone up at the lunch table when he refused to drink cerveza from a Cerro glass. One man came to love him, asking him what he thought of the Paraguayan women and then offering to lend him his car to go riding around town if he wanted. It was hilarious watching him play soccer with Pipo and Diego, them constantly yelling instructions to him in Spanish and him just running around.


To split up our time in Paraguay, we had planned a 5-day trip to the southern tip of Argentina, Patagonia. Being lovers of mountains and snow, we were pretty excited for our trip, but once we arrived in El Calafate, our expectations were highly exceeded. Pointy snow-capped mountains, turquoise lakes, vibrant fall leaves sprinkled with snow; we were in heaven. We found a tiny 4-room charming hotel called Hospedaje Lautaro owned by a young Argentine family. When we were checking in the woman, Belen, asked, "Are you 2 brothers?" and we laughed and said yes. They were wonderful hosts, greeting us every morning with a homemade breakfast and giving us honest and helpful tourist information. The base town for our trip was El Calafate, a charming small mountain town that reminded us of Blowing Rock. We walked around the Laguna and got to see a flock of flamingoes! We enjoyed delicious Argentine food; Will was addicted to the cheeseburgers, and I had a weakness for all the coffee and desserts!


We loved El Calafate, but we didn't travel to Patagonia for Argentine cuisine and shopping! The most incredible part of our trip was the 2 days we spent in the Parque Nacional Los Glaciares. Wili being the outdoorsman that he is led us on a 5 hour hike deep into the park. The exercise in the snow was exhilarating, and the natural beauty was breathtaking. I believe the pictures speak for themselves.

After winding and climbing through the rivers, inclines, and lookouts, we made it to our campsite at the base of Mount Fitz Roy right before sunset. We were the only ones choosing to camp in the snow, and we quickly tucked ourselves into our sleeping bags before we got too cold. We shared a pleasant dinner of peanut butter tortillas and then enjoyed a 2 hour pillow talk before dozing into the night. We woke up the next morning, packed up and made our way back into town. After lunch with a tall waterfall in the background, we enjoyed the warmth of a coffee shop and boarded the bus back to El Calafate right as the rain arrived. Perfect timing.


Our last day, we ventured out to see the Glaciar Perito Moreno, the tourist attraction of El Calafate. The closer we got, the more we realized why it was so popular. The immensity of the glacier was so humbling! Its surface area is bigger than Buenos Aires, and it's about 250 feet tall. As you stand gazing at it, you then hear and see pieces breaking off and remember that it is a river of ice that is constantly moving and changing. Set against a backdrop of purple mountains and clear water, we were blown away by the beauty even when we took our eyes off of the glacier. Nature is so powerful!

The next day we reluctantly returned to Paraguay, sad to leave the comfort of the mountains. But we arrived back in Natalio just in time for some festivities! For Will's birthday (May 15th), we were supposed to celebrate Paraguay's Bicentennial, but unfortunately it rained so everything was canceled. Instead we celebrated it the following day at my friend Felicia's house. It also was her niece and nephew's birthday so we had a big asado lunch, complete with chipa guasu and cake. We stuck around for a while after lunch, and later made chipa with all the women. They pretty much laughed the entire time at Will's and my inability to knead the chipa dough; we were happy to give them such entertainment. We came home with a bag full of chipa, and I think Will was happy to have an overload of his favorite Paraguayan food in his last days in Paraguay.


Seeing as Will's flight out was on the 20th of May, we decided to celebrate my birthday (the 19th) in Asuncion. We did a birthday dinner at TGIFriday's and enjoyed 2-for-1 burgers and brownies (241BBB). Friday morning we made it to the airport and waited in a pleasant 2 hour check-in line. Our goodbye was rushed so that Wili wouldn't miss his flight, and as I walked away, I felt a big sadness rush over me. It felt weird not having my buddy by my side; I was solita otra vez. But after learning many coping strategies in my time here, my tristeza had waned by the time I made it home, and I was ready to get back to work, back into a routine.
Having Willy here with me was wonderful, and I love dwelling on all the great memories of our time together! Te quiero mucho Wili!!!

Mi mamá y mis 2 hermanos

Sunday April 17th, I laid down to sleep in my hotel in Asuncion around 10. Four short hours later, my alarm went off, and I eagerly jumped out of bed. I headed to the airport and began to wait. The Asuncion airport is fairly small, and as we all crowded around the Arrivals gate, I couldn't believe the moment I had been waiting for for over a year was "arriving." In typical fashion, all other passengers exited, and in the very last group of people to trickle out, I saw the familiar faces of my mom, Will, and Brian. We rushed towards each other, and Mom and I locked into a hug sobbing into each others' shoulders, unable to pull away for a minute. Finally we did, and I hugged Will and Brian, both who seemed a lot taller than before. After our blissful moment, we remembered that it was 3 AM and that we were tired and made our way through an strangely peaceful Asuncion night back to the hotel. We drove past the cathedral and the government buildings, all beautifully lit up at night. Finally we arrived back at the hotel, and after we laid down to sleep, I had a feeling that we were all still awake. After 15 months, there's so much to say, to share, to feel, but 3 AM after a 15 hour journey is not the time.
We spent Monday exploring Asuncion, walking through the plazas, enjoying the rico restaurants, and me running my typical errands - business at the Peace Corps office and buying American food at the supermarkets. To me, Asuncion is a ragged yet charming enough city with its old architecture and location along the bright blue Rio Paraguay. From above, it appears to be covered in trees, yet in the midst of the city, you feel yourself surrounded by bus exhaust and no-name buildings. The people of Asuncion are from all walks of life, in a crowd you find skinny girls in business skirts, older business men, barefoot children in their barefoot mother's arms, fat fast-talking men selling fruit and sodas and socks and flashlights, you name it. My favorite place in Asuncion is the Plaza de los Heroes, where there are tents selling artisan goods and women renting out terere equipment. With my mom and the boys, we browsed the blankets, jewelry, and keychains, and Mom walked away with some beautiful ñanduti table runners. As we ran around Asuncion, it was hard to explain how different the capital is than the rest of the country. While I enjoy the coffee shops and movie theaters, the city rush and professionalism, I also love the open air and tranquilo life outside of the city, and I was excited to show my family the other face of Paraguay.


Tuesday they got to see it during the 9 hour bus that we took during the day to my site. Brian didn't want to sleep; he stared out the window the entire time. I removed myself from the familiarity of the trip to see Paraguay with fresh eyes for the first time again with them. Along the ruta, you see people sitting out in front of their houses, drinking terere and chatting, a snapshot of Paraguayan family life. The estancias in Misiones are magical, the open pastures with cows and horses roaming, the gate and driveway appearing endless. At one point when Will woke up from a snooze, Mom exclaimed: "Wait til you see the graveyards!!" and then spent the rest of the trip waiting with her camera, ready to capture blurry pictures of the cemeteries as we passed. It is a fascinating ride, and it was even more enjoyable in the company of my visitors.



We arrived in Natalio a little bit after the sun had set. As we were walking 2 blocks with our luggage to my house, the motos flying by, when we heard "OH MY GOD!!" This being one of the famous English phrases that many Paraguayans have learned, I was not surprised at all to see an ostentatious, gregarious teacher from my school roll up to greet my family, and after sharing some words of welcome, he and his moto rolled off. I think my family came to understand how hospitable my community is, since in the short 2 blocks to my house, 2 more people rolled up just as the Profe had to saludar us. Of course, I'm sure my family also realized that what I like to deem hospitality also is a reflection of how much we stick out like a sore thumb in a rural Paraguayan pueblo :)
After a good night of sleep (EVERYBODY IN ONE BEDroom), we awoke ready for Chipa Wednesday! It is tradition that each Semana Santa (Holy Week, the week before Easter) on Wednesday, everyone prepares a traditional Paraguayan food called chipa. A mixture of corn flour, mandioca flour, cheese, eggs, and pig fat, chipa is a delicious snack, breakfast, supper, somewhat similar to...?? A breadstick? A pretzel? Cornbread? It's hard to describe its taste and its function, but it is nonetheless a Paraguayan favorite. Every Holy Wednesday, the Paraguayan women prepare an overwhelmingly large quantity of chipa in their tatakuaa (brick oven) to be consumed while fasting on Holy Friday. We went to Ceferina's house where she and my 1st host mom, Celmira, were making 500 chipas to give out to the "poor kids." Since we slept in (until 8:00), we got there late and didn't get to actually make the chipa, but we arrived in time to taste it. (Very rico by the way!)


It was pretty hilarious watching the Paraguayans see my family for the first time. They inspected them, looking at their clothes, their hair, their bodies. They asked all the same stupid questions ("Do they like Paraguay? Have they ever tried terere? Have they ever tried mandioca?" etc etc), and I had the pleasure of translating everything anyone from either party said. We had a yummy lunch of avilla hu - black beans, which we strangely ate at the table by ourselves. We spent the afternoon in typical Paraguayan fashion, sitting in the shade in a circle talking and drinking terere. As I looked at my brothers and my mom, I realized how much I had adjusted to such a slower pace of life and time. I didn't even really feel the afternoon pass, but when we made it back to my house, I realized how boring the day probably was for them. I have gotten so used to visiting people as being the highlight of my activities and entertainment for the day; for us down here, sitting and talking is as good as it gets!


Luckily the next day was more exciting when we went back to Ceferina's house for the Last Supper (which we ate for lunch). We spent the day drinking terere, cooking, eating, chatting, and best of all, playing with the neighborhood kids. As they always say, children see no boundaries when it comes to a friend, and it was completely obvious as Will and Brian instantly connected with them and spent the afternoon playing game after game of soccer. Late in the afternoon, the boys finally escaped, sweaty, dirty, and exhausted, and we headed home after what was truly a really special day.


Friday was chipa day, and we spent the day going from house to house trying different chipas. Sprawling out of my town of Natalio are multiple dirt roads that I go running on, and they carry you to the most beautiful views of green crop fields and rolling blue hills. Each day we explored a different road, and on chipa Friday, we went down the road that let us to the cemetery. I think Mom enjoyed that one!!


The heat and humidity was very strong, and I wasn't surprised at all to amanecer to an intense storm Saturday morning. With the rain pelleting down, lightning and thunder every 5 seconds, and unbelievable winds breaking tree branches, we remained captive in my casita all day. Needless to say, I was once again reminded of how boring my life is... That night we prepared homemade pizza (which Will later told me was the worst meal he had eaten here... thanks haha) and enjoyed the visit of another important Paraguayan in my life, Benito. For some reason, I have not yet written about Benito. To be honest, he deserves about 10 posts of his own (which I will make a note to add at some point). To sum it up, he is a character. A 13 year old giant who speaks English. Any experience with him is funny. I know he was excited about meeting my family so I'm glad we got to enjoy the evening altogether.
The next day was a beautiful warm Easter Sunday. We went to church and after a minor breakdown on my part of Paraguayans' canceling plans, we ended up cooking Easter lunch at my house and sharing a nice family meal. Later in the afternoon, we went back to Ceferina's and put on an Easter party for all the kiddos. The kids loved everything: making Easter bunnies, having an egg hunt, playing numerous relay games and eating a yummy carrot cake. As silly as these things seem sometimes, I like to think that it stays as a really special memory for them. A magical moment that had we not created they would not have experienced. Even for me, it remains a warm memory. I love the bright colors in the pictures!


Monday and Tuesday we roamed around Natalio, stopping by the school and visiting different students in their homes. The Easter bunnies Mom brought were a big hit, and it was fun doing a little craft with the kids. On Tuesday night, we went back to Ceferina's house for a little despedida. Hot dogs, empanadas, quiche and no-bake oaties (can you guess which foods the Americana made??), we shared a nice little going away dinner. Delay it as we could, the goodbye moment finally arrived. Ceferina surprised my mom with a gift, a matera and yerba to always remember Paraguay. We started down the line of hugs and kisses, and when Ceferina locked my mom in, tears starting pouring down her cheeks. Soon enough she was sobbing, and I could not hold back the tears either. (Nor when I write this.) When we finally pulled away, we left Ceferina to be comforted by Fredy and Marcos, and we started our walk back to my house. Slightly stunned by the experience, we talked about it the entire way home. Yet easy to forget, it really is incredible the impact the smallest visit could have. My mom and Ceferina will probably never see each other again, but I think the memory of their visit together and the daughter they share will always preserve the cariño they have for each other.


Wednesday morning, we were up early packing bags, calling the taxista to take us to the Argentine border. Unfortunately I was also up early with food poisoning; thank you hot dogs and empanadas. The first time I have vomited in Paraguay, and it just so happened to be when my mom was here to hold my hair. Que coincidencia! We had a delightful travel day with a broken down bus and 2 more pukes, but finally we arrived in Puerto Iguazu, Argentina. First thing Thursday morning, we went to Iguazu Falls National Park, where we spent the morning literally in awe. Visiting Iguazu Falls was an unbelievable experience. It is so enormous and beautiful; you find yourself stopping in your tracks every few steps. You take a picture every 5 minutes because the falls look different from each angle, but the truth is you will never capture the wonder of something so awesome on your Kodak. The park is very clean, organized, and well-maintained, which added to the pleasant experience. It was truly humbling witnessing the power of Mother Nature!


We returned to Asuncion that afternoon and spent one last night in our hotel. The 2 weeks had passed so quickly, and grudgingly around 5 am, we headed to the airport to send off Mom and Brian. As I gave them one last hug and they moved through the gates, I burst into tears for literally about 5 seconds. Then Will wrapped me in a hug and carried me off, my sadness passing as quick as it came.
I absolutely loved having my family visit. It was wonderful showing them my house, my town, my people, and most of all, me. The person I have become here. And as much as I miss my family on a daily basis, there is something beautiful about the fact that they can walk away and I can stay. It says more about our trust and support for each other than always staying together, none of us ever taking risks or pursuing different dreams. I am and will always be thankful for the love that my family has always shown me, in choosing, in surviving, and I'm sure later on, in recovering from this experience. I wouldn't be able to do it without them. I love you guys!!! Thank you for visiting; it meant so much to me!

what doesn't kill us only makes us... less human??

As Peace Corps Volunteers, we are forced to adapt to many things that are very different from our former reality. The weather, the food, the language, the culture, the bugs, the beds, the "social life". Physically, mentally, emotionally, our bodies are challenged to react and survive in circumstances that are very new to us, some being extremely difficult. But in an effort to fully integrate and not offend, we are encouraged to take whatever comes at us with grace, acceptance, and... silence. What doesn't kill us only makes us stronger right?
Actually I'd like to say wrong to that. After being in Paraguay for over a year, enduring many hardships and overcoming many challenges, I'm starting to notice that there is a line between conditions that we should accept and those that we should not. And I am not talking as a Peace Corps "we", but as a collective whole, Paraguayans included. Too many times I hear people justifying things as "just part of the culture" or "that's just the way it is."
Yes, some of the things that have been difficult for me are just the Paraguayan way. For example, the unbearably loud music or the roosters' crows sometimes are bothersome for my ears. And I don't particularly enjoy waking up at 4:30 am to drink mate for 2 hours before starting my day, but if you do, that's fine with me. And the fashion magazines I read don't necessarily condone wet hair, sequins, glittery flower hair clips, or unbelievably tight clothes, but it all looks great on you. And you know what, since I'm the one visiting your country, I'll even wear it too! All of these are examples of what I call adapting to a culture without question.
But there are lots of things that should not be written off as cultural differences because they are just as difficult or unenjoyable for Paraguayans as they are for us as Americans.
For example: buses. The bus companies, particularly the one that goes to my site, are on my list right now. I have been traveling a lot recently to and from Asuncion (shall I remind you, a 9 hour ride) and have been completely disgusted by the quality of service. (To the point that last week I had the ultimate breakdown, crying and hyperventilating in the bathroom of a bus station at 4 am.) A majority of the buses in Paraguay are recycled from Brazil and Argentina's trash meaning dirty, gross, and uncomfortable. No air/heat, broken seats that don't recline, break down regularly. As if the bus experience wasn't pleasant enough, there also is no such thing as a full bus, seeing as companies sell tickets and drivers pick up people over the capacity leaving them to stand scrunched together in the aisle, leaning on the seats. As my friend Miguel said after taking a midnight bus to his site and standing the entire 6 hours, it's like transporting cattle!! It's dehumanizing! As much as I try to protest and avoid supporting the terrible bus company that goes to my site, the unfortunate thing is that there is no other option and for that reason, they don't care. They don't have to.
As hard as it is to fight against institutions such as bus companies, luckily Paraguay is up and coming, and at some point, they will have to update their standards. Hopefully the same can be said for certain aspects of their culture that are subtly dehumanizing as well. As a country very young in democracy, there is a terrible lack of self-esteem and individualism in this country, and this problem is only further promoted by the ways in which people talk and treat each other. It is very common for someone to pick apart another person's appearance, from clothes to hair to skin to body. Unfortunately PCVs are not exempt from this. Actually we might even be more of a target! Comments I have received: "your clothes look like a grandmother's", "your hands are too small", "your hair looks like a broom that was used to clean a dirty corner", and countless other comments on my clothes, my dirty feet/shoes, and my weight. That's the favorite: people looove to comment on others' weight saying to their faces "estas muy gorda ahora" "you're really fat now". I used to get so confused because one day they'd tell me I'm chubby, the next I'm skinny, the next I'm too skinny and so on and so on. But regardless of what it is that they're saying to me, it always hurts. It does not feel good. And I'm a comfortable, confident, even hermosa woman! Lots of other Volunteers have tried to say "it's just their culture" but after talking with my Paraguayan friends, the truth is it hurts them too. So why should we continue allowing this vicious cycle to perpetuate, destroying even more people's self-image and life possibilities?
Even sadder is the explicit physical and emotional abuse that people endure, justifying it as part of the culture. Men beating their wives, the commonness of infidelity in marriages, children having to walk around selling oranges to buy their dad his daily pint of caña. These things should not be accepted in any culture, and every time that they are swept under the mat as "the way it is", it gives them power and allows them to continue.
As Peace Corps Volunteers, we are charged with the job of empowering people to take control of their suffering and make changes in their lives for the better. But if we shrug things off and continue to allow subpar conditions to be recognized as cultural and therefore acceptable, we are failing to do our job. We can't turn the entire country around in 2 years, but I personally am going to make it known to whoever I can find the things that I refuse to adapt to. And hopefully, in my broken Spanish, I will be giving a voice to the same shared feelings of the Paraguayans.

A Veteran Volunteer

Peace Corps Paraguay has a rotating schedule of Volunteer groups. When a group arrives from one sector, they have a sister group at their 1 year mark, and another sister group that is finishing their service and returning to the United States. The new Education group arrived at the beginning of February, marking my 1 year anniversary in Paraguay. In honor of my "cumple-año", I baked a chocolate cake and took it around to the families I lived with and the people I worked with in my first year. I gave each person a piece of cake, a kiss, and a gracias for being a special part of my first year. As expected, I found myself reflecting on the past year, painfully remembering the hard parts such as breaking my arm and cheers-ing the successes such as my Swearing-In Ceremony at the Embassy. Of course there have been hilarious experiences, for example, when I unknowingly agreed in Guarani to marry this ancient as time, toothless security guard at the Municipalidad. The most frustrating times always involved work or the teachers like the 3 month teacher strike that took place right after arriving in site or the daily disappointment I feel when I enter in a classroom and see that the teacher still is not using the technique I taught. When I think of happiness, I see myself in different settings - drinking terere with Paraguayans, laughing uncontrollably with Erik, having 40 sets of eyes on me in a literacy workshop, or laying down comfortably in my bed each night. As always, when recalling the best moments, I cannot remember the day or the time, not one detail. Only a feeling. The feeling of overflowing energy, a bubbling contentness and a stark appreciation for la vida.
That being said, I have become very aware of why Peace Corps is a 2 year commitment. When I look back on my first year, it seemed to be all about adapting. First the basics of immersing in the culture, meeting people, exploring my community. Later on it became deciphering: how institutions function, which teachers are willing to work with me, who is actually my friend and someone I can trust. Now as I come around the bend of my second year, I feel a settling peace, a different angle with which I'm approaching everything. In general, I feel more comfortable and more in control of my daily life, allowing me to be free of distractions and more focused. Professionally I have a clearer, more realistic directive and have laid the groundwork for lots of hopeful projects. Now it's just time to get to work! As one of my fellow Volunteers said, if I went home now, I don't feel I would be able to say that I accomplished anything. In this next year, I hope to work efficiently and effectively and achieve some kind of development for my community.
At the end of February, I hosted a visit from one of the new Trainees. Coincidently, Johanna, the Trainee, is a good friend of my sister's from Study Abroad in Argentina 4 years ago! (It is a verrrry small world.) I had a great few days with Johanna, getting to know her and now having another good friend here within Paraguay. It also was a prideful experience, being able to show off my community, my friends, my house, my work. It made me aware of how far I have come, how normal some things have become to me and how I have molded myself and everything around me to mesh. I remember during training, 27 months seemed so big, so long and I just wanted to make a dent in it. Now here I am at my halfway point, and I feel like time is escaping from underneath me. I only have another year to finish my projects and actually achieve my goal of improving the health, education, and knowledge of my community.
I also realize, aside from work, I only have another year to enjoy this experience, marvel at beautiful Paraguay, and the most heartbreaking - spend time with the people whom I care about. Towards the end of March, I received another visit from a fellow Volunteer. Amanda is also a Education volunteer and is in the sister group that is on their way out. She was a Volunteer in my site for her first year and then moved to a different site for her 2nd year so I was chosen to replace her. She is on the brink of finishing her service and is returning to the States on the 20th of April so she came down before she went to say goodbye to our community. We spent the entire weekend visiting different families, taking long walks around town, and taking pictures. There was an air of sadness and nostalgia as we toured around, and it made me imagine the day when we do leave and the mix of emotions that will overwhelm us. To spend 2 years day in and out tucked into the pocket of South America, in polarizing Paraguay, a place with which you either fall in love or get fed up, to be a professional and an individual, mixed up in the turmoil of thoughts, emotions, responsibilities, challenges yet all the while learning and changing and growing... And for there to finally come the day when it all ends? What will that be like? What will going back be like?
Regardless of whether or not you could sum up your experience as a positive or negative one or your work as a success or a failure, I think one thing is always guaranteed for us as Volunteers. There will always be people, a family, a child, a sweet old lady, who will steal your heart, and that will always be painful to leave behind. We spent Amanda's last night sitting in front of the Ortega-Torres home, a family that is very dear to both of us. There were laughs. There were beers. There was even a soccer jersey ceremony, where Amanda was presented with the gift of a sacred Olimpia jersey signed by all members of the family. And in the end, there were tears.
Goodbyes are always hard, but these goodbyes are different. They're harder. Of course, for one, you're going to miss them. And sometimes you don't know if you'll ever see them again. But a lot of the times, it's because there are not enough words to express how much they mean to you. To express your gratitude for their food, for their advice, for being able to trust them. For taking you in as if you were one of their own. There are never enough words to tell them how much you love them and how you will always carry them with you for the rest of your life. And these goodbyes are harder too because you also know they don't have the words either to say the same thing.

so long sweet summer.

During the month of November, many days my only comfort was thinking, "just make it to December." Between workshops, meetings, certificates, graduations, end of the year activities, I found myself working from 7 in the morning to 10 at night. I had overbooked my schedule in a country where efficiency is not a priority and walking distances are never short. Che kane'oiterei... I was tiiired. All I wanted was to rest.
And then finally, December came. Beautiful, tranquilo, HOT. Aside from Art Camp 2K10 which I put on for a week with Erik for his students in Yatytay, my only goals for the month of December were to relax, read, and spend time with people. In November, as I ran from place to place, I hardly had time to talk to my neighbors, play with the kids, or even drink terere! Now that, in Paraguay, is inexcusable. So in December, my days were left open. I could sleep as late as I wanted and wake up with my only plans being to wander and be free. Life was good.


December flew and soon arrived Christmas and New Year's. Lots of houses put up Christmas lights and artificial trees. Everywhere you looked, there was red and green, but unlike in the US, the Christmas colors here came from sandia, watermelon. December and January is watermelon season, and in every household, it is common to see people sitting outside with a half of a watermelon in their laps, eating it with a spoon. I quickly adapted to this custom and spent many days after lunch scooping out juicy sandia as my dessert. Paraguayans celebrate Christmas and New Year's at midnight and both in the same manner. Starting on Christmas and New Year's Eve, everyone cooks a huge asado feast and around 9 or 10, the family eats dinner altogether. Then cold Brahma beers are passed around until the clock strikes 12 when everybody shoots off fireworks, cheers to a sweet champagne, and gives hugs and kisses all around. I spent both holidays with my host family, and both nights, we headed over to Ceferina's sister's house where the whole family came together to hug, kiss, cry, dance, and drink more beer. Both holidays were very calm (and slightly boring) as compared to the big to-dos that we have in the States, but surprisingly enough, I never had an emotional breakdown, an overwhelming homesickness, as I had expected. Christmas morning I handed out the presents I had bought to my host family, their 1st ever Christmas presents, and they loved them. Ceferina even cried. I video Skyped with my family, and as they went around opening their presents, I also opened my presents from the Christmas package that my mom had sent me. I was thrilled to unwrap Ziploc bags and Clorox wipes, Sharpies and a French press. I honestly had a great Christmas, and I felt very blessed for all of the wonderful people and places in my life.




In January, opa la vacacion; my vacation was over. I went back to work, giving a summer school course with the principal of my school for children who didn't pass the grade. Out of 380 students, 76 didn't pass, 47 of the 76 being in 1st, 2nd, and 3rd grade. I taught literacy, 3 courses a day, and the principal taught math. I thought this would be an easy and effective way for me to help the students and at the same time, validate to the teachers that my ideas and strategies work. In reality, it was quite the opposite. Instead of feeling like I had success with the students, I really ended up feeling very frustrated and hopeless. Instead of producing students who could miraculously read and write, I diagnosed the students as having very low basic skills, a lack of imagination, and inability to work independently and think for themselves. It was very depressing and still, until now, leaves me questioning my ability to have an impact, to make a real difference here.
But, if I wasn't a dreamer, I would have never signed up for the Peace Corps. The other day, I came across this quote. "You have the right to work, but for the work's sake only. You have no rights to the fruits of work. Desire for the fruits of work must never be your motive in working. Never give way to laziness, either... Work done with anxiety about results is far inferior to work done without such anxiety, in the calm of self-surrender... They who work selfishly for results are miserable."
I see it as, I can't only work or try things with the end product in mind because I might always end up disappointed. I have to approach this situation from all different angles, keep trying different ideas and strategies hoping that maybe one of them will pull through. School has now started, and I have become very aware that I only have one more year here. Instead of letting myself get down, I am committed to making the most of it, for myself and my Paraguay.