| August 8, 2005 |
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| Written by Michael Berg | |||||||
| Sunday, 07 August 2005 | |||||||
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This will probably be pretty long, so you might want to read it in
multiple sittings if you are in a rush. I have a lot to write and I
have all day to write it. I am now in the Peace Corps office in Asuncion, having taken the 3am bus from Paso Yobai this morning. Yes,
that is where I will be living and working for the next to years: Paso
Yobai, Guaira Deparment. It's about sixty kilometers on a dirt road to
the east of Villarrica, right in the middle of the southern part of
Paraguay. It's a small place - if you're on the bus and you blink it
will Paso Yobai will pass-ah you by. Paso
Yobai has around 2000 inhabitants in the town itself, but the
Municipality I'm working with has a huge territory to cover. It is
responsible for an area with close to 30,000 people. This with only
five paid employees, including the Mayor. Most people live in the rural
areas, known for some reason in Paraguay as companias. The town itself
has electricity and running water. However, the electricity seems to go
down alot. Most of the companias (not all) have electricity, but a
large number of people have no running water. Paso
Yobai has a lot of interesting things going on. There is a large
cooperative that grows and harvests Yerba Mate, sold in Paraguay and
Argentina for mate and terere. There is a small timber processing
center, but the forests are running out. There is also a lot of
livestock and sugar production. And like all places in Paraguay people
grow mantioca and fruits. There are two
gold mines and many independent gold prospectors, looking for the big
strike just a few kilometers from the center of town. Of course, with
gold prospectors comes mercury and water contamination. Right
on the western edge of the Municipality there is a large community of
Germans who immigated to Paraguay in the 1920s and 1930s. On the far
eastern edge there is a community of English-speaking
Mennonites who immigrated from Canada. And there are three
communities of native Paraguayans, who live in abject poverty, speak
nothing but Guarani and still worship their own gods, within the
Municipality. At least this is what I'm told - I still haven't met
Germans nor Mennonites nor natives, but I was only there for four days. All
twenty of us in training got our site assignment on Friday (11
Municipal Development, 9 Rural Economic Development (cooperatives)).
People got places all over. The roughest assignment went to
my Italian-Polish-Czech-Venezuelan-American friend Dan got placed
in the Chaco, in a community of 125 people in the middle of the dry
scrublands where people think very carefully about how much water they
use. Since Dan's about 6 foot 7 and who knows how many
pounds, they probably placed him there because they know it would
take him many days before he dehydrated, so he could at least get
a little work done before his bones lay bleached in the sand besides
the cacti as the tumbleweeds bounce by. Or maybe it was because he is a
native Spanish (and Czeck and Polish and Italian) speaker and has
progressed very quickly in Guarani in the last couple months. Take your
pick. I was feeling a little sick
last weekend, just a little. (I keep getting hit with illness). On
Monday it hit as a full cold, which was somewhat annoying, but I
thought, well just another. On Tuesday all of us were supposed to
meet our contacts from our communities at Don Bosco, a big Catholic
retreat center near Itagua. It looks like an elementary school. On the
way there my right ear blocked up, like it had a bubble. I didn't think
much of it, because these things happen when you drive, change of
altitutes, whatnot. Unfortunately, one
week later, my left ear is still blocked. This has never happened to me
before. According to the Peace Corps doctor it's just a bad infection,
my drum is swollen and it's going away slowly - I'm taking antibiotics. So
we start the meeting with our Paraguayan counterparts. One counterpart
from each community showed up, we all spent a day together and the
retreat center and we went to each site the next day. The woman
from Paso Yobai who came to meet me had a nametag that
said Laura, but I later learned she is known as Emi. She said that
she was the CODENI of Paso Yobai (the head of social services). I got a
nametag with Michael on one side and Miguel on the other. I switched
sides every hour or so to keep people on their toes. We
did all sorts of introduction exercises and activities to talk about
what we would do in the community, what the community could do for us,
that kind of thing. The first one was pretty fun because all the Peace
Corps volunteers conducted a game of Pictionary exclusively in English,
trying to incorportate the Paraguayans. This was supposed to show the
Paraguayans what it is like to be in an environment where you can't
understand words but you have to try to figure things out anyways. That
night some dancers came and danced traditional Paraguayan dances. The
dances were pretty tedious, except for the last one were a young woman
danced with fifteen wine bottles balenced one on top of another on her
head. My Saudi-American friend Walipe was taking his photos as usual. I
was reading through a newspaper, "Ultima Hora" and read about the death
of King Fahd. I took the paper and showed it to Walipe, who went away,
got his Spanish-English dictionary so he could understand every word,
and read it all. Then he thanked me for showing him. This is the only
time I have successfully pryed him away from picture taking. That
night the pain in my ear was excruciating. I barely slept. The next
morning I told the trainers that I need to go to the doctor, so I went
to Asuncion and got the medicines. The pain has not been as bad since. So,
sleepless, suffering a cold and with ear pains I took a bus
with Emi to Villarrica and then Paso Yobai. We finally got their after
5 1/2 hours. She had told me that she was going to have me stay with
Alfonso, the volunteer who will be leaving Paso Yobai when I arrive on
August 23. Alfonso wasn't there, and she hadn't checked before to see
if he would be in. Then she sent me to the mayor, Luis, who didn't have
any room. Then she sent me to her sister, Donya Carmen, who didn't have
a mattress. So she kicked her daughter out her room and gave it to me.
Meanwhile, I just wanted to lie down, and I was having trouble
understanding all of the mumbled Spanish mixed with Guarani through
only one ear. Still, knowing that this would be a first impression
in the town where I would be living for two years I smiled and was
polite. During the whole visit to Paso
Yobai I was continually reajusting my body so that the right ear faced
those with whom I was talking. The next
day I visited the Municipality, a nice little building with a big
pavallion behind for parties and and talked with the Mayor, Luis, and
the General Secretary, Tata. Tata showed me municipal projects, like
the municipal slaughterhouse. Then Alfonso arrived, and he spent the
day showing me around and telling me about what he is doing, good
contacts, all kinds of things. He seems to have done some great work
there. I stayed with Alfonso for the rest of the stay, as to not
have Carmen's daughter keep having to sleep with her mother. Alfonso
is Mexican-American, a concept many people in Paso Yobai can't quite
grasp, even after two years. I was asked many
times if he is my relative, if I'm Mexican too. He has been
explaining over and over that Peace Corps is an agency of the US
government, that he is an American, that only Americans can work for
the agency. The concept of someone who's parents were Mexican being an
American is a bit foreign. This even though there are Paraguayans from
all over the place - Germany, Ukraine, Japan, etc. But from my
experience in Paso Yobai it seems like most of the mestizo
Guarani/Spanish speaking Paraguayans see themselves as Paraguayan and
the German immigrants as Germans and all Asian immigrants as
Japanese and even the natives are Nativos, not Paraguayans. I
did learn that Emi actually doesn't do much at the Muncipality, and
that she must have been sent to get me just because they didn't want to
spare someone who actually works. She does draw a salary, but it is
quite small. I spent a shadow day
following the Treasurer of Paso Yobai, Don Wildo Escobar. This was
something I had to do. He showed me all the books, how taxes are
managed, how figures are recorded, salaries, all sorts of things. I
got the great excitement of witnessing taxes being paid,
firsthand! I was also there when the street cleaner grovelled and
begged for a two dollar advance on his salary, which was given, I
imagine because he acted so pathetic. I noticed that the secretary,
Mauda seemed to be working the most but receives the lowest salary, but
this wasn't exactly a surprise. Then we
went to his house, where we sat and read to paper for over an hour and
ate lunch which his wife had prepared. Then we watched Kung Fu movies.
Then we rested. Then we went to the little league soccer practice,
where Don Wildo is the coach. On days when there is no practice, he
cultivates his little piece of land, his chacra. A day in the life of a Treasurer. The
next day (Sunday) I went with a bunch of youth out to the Compania of
Picyry. This place is in the middle of nowhere. We travelled in a beat
up old car for miles and miles down dirt roads, passing little
homes and farms to a rickety wooden church. There were a bunch of
people there praying. The youth played guitar and sung with the people
in the church. Then they gave lecture on natural fertilizers and
mercury poisoning, which the people seemed to be into. I introduced
myself in basic Guarani which ellicited unmeritted applause (my Guarani
is not all that great for two months of study). I'm not sure how
effective the lecture was, but the energy of the youth in support of
environmentalism, and their willingness to spend their Sunday driving
around to the companias was impressive. They got a lot of information
and motivation from a big conference that Alfonso recently organized. I
had arranged to start my stay in Paso Yobai living at the
home of one of the youths, Luis Bisuela. But at the last minute
his mom said that she just has too many responsiblities to accept
another. I explained that I just wanted a room, and to share a bathroom
and washboard, but she didn't want me. But she was really nice about
it. Still, with only a few hours left in Paso Yobai and no place
arranged to sleep at when I returned, I was a bit nervous. I
ended up arranging to live above the family of Don Hermes Lopez, taking
over Alfonzo's apartment. Don Hermes is quite friendly and he runs a
general store. The apartment is way nicer than anywhere I
exepected to live in Peace Corps, but I'm not complaining. I can go up
to the room and hang my clothing there and have the best view there is
of Paso Yobai. It's a view for miles of rolling hills. It's also right
by the Municipality, but yet I'm not living with any of my co-worker. I
was careful NOT to try to stay with the Mayor or other officials, to
keep some sort of line between work and home. The only drawback is I
have to go out on a ledge to get to the bathroom. It's really nice and has lots of room, so come visit. So
the first visit was successful, although I was not nearly as energetic
and social as usual due to illness and hearing difficulties. I tried my
best, because in Paraguay it is very important to be friendly, shake
everybody's hand, smile, joke and be calm. It is also important to
share anything you eat and drink with everybody at all times, from the
same glass, same fork, it doesn't matter. (Perhaps that is why I'm
getting sick so much). So when I get back to Paso Yobai on August 23 I will - - Teach Excel to people at the Muni - Work with the youth environmental group - Help the Muni workers develop a catastre - Develop a plan for civic education lessons - Try to start a radio show That's all for now, let me know what's going on.
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