I don't think I edited this blog...

There are a few problems that I constantly encounter with my blog.  The first is that I always forget what I have blogged about (I generally assume if I don’t remember blogging about it, you guys don’t remember reading it).  The second is that I only have a chance to post a blog every week or two (I can sometimes use my kindle to check facebook and email but writing a blog on a kindle is something I refuse to do, seeing as kindles don’t have spell check and I am already self-conscious about my writing).  The third is that I get really excited about random blogs during the week.  I don’t want to overwhelm you guys and post 4 at once and often my enthusiasm wanes and blogs are left unfinished and unedited, never to be read again.  The result is that my blog is a random assortment of stories and highlights from my service with no unifying theme, other than I felt like posting them at the time.  I would like to apologize for my lack of blogging skill; however, I didn’t major in blogging and you guys can stop reading at any time (but I secretly like that you do read, so please don’t leave me).

Enough rambling, the theme of this blog is Why All Peace Corps Paraguay Volunteers Love Rain.

First, let me state that this is a HUGE generalization. Possibly only Agricultural Volunteers like rain, or maybe only myself and my 3 closest volunteer friends.  Probably this should be titled “Why Maggie Flinn loves Rain”.  Well readers, this is why I love rain.

My site is made up of dirt roads and when it rains, mud roads.  This means that leaving site is not really a possibility.  I only really leave site to go buy food or visit other volunteer; therefore, the lack of road is generally not an issue.  A rainy day also means that you are trapped inside.  During the first 2 months in site, when I lived with a host family, this was torture.  You are trapped.  You have to sit and make conversation all day.  Even harder for me was when my contact’s daughters all came to visit and we got ‘rained in’.  You would think that with more people it would be more fun - this is not the case.  I would sit and listen to inside jokes and stories, watching a group of sisters interacting in the way that only sisters do.  I was an outsider and just kept thinking how my sisters and I were way funnier and had way better inside jokes (not biased at all). 

Independent Maggie can now look back on those long days and appreciate them because they did strengthen my bond with my contact and force me to use my language.  Independent Maggie also knows that she never has to suffer through another one of these days.  A rainy day when you live alone is a day to yourself.  No one judges you for not working or visiting families; it’s dangerous out there! You can spend the day reading and knitting.  Your brain gets a day off because you aren’t constantly speaking in a mixture of Spanish and Guarani.  You don’t have to deal with critical Señoras telling you that you are ‘demasiada gorda’ or harassing you about dating a Paraguayan so he can go back to the states with you.  Rainy days keep me sane. They are a time for me to just relax and not let cultural differences drive me crazy.  I have lame dance parties to Top 40 mixes friends from the states send me (Jill and Amelia, thanks again), I watch lame tv shows on my computer (Leigh, I’m still watching Vampire Diaries so thank Trey for me), and I try to learn how to knit fingerless gloves. 

The weird thing about being a PC volunteer is that you are a volunteer 24/7.  The people in my community are constantly watching me and gossiping about what I do.  People randomly (and creepily) take pictures of me weekly, often without asking.  Men in town get drunk and tell people that I’m their girlfriend (I am still not dating a Paraguayan).  I am constantly told that my American boyfriend is cheating on me with a Paraguayan and that is why he speaks Guarani better than I do.  Often after this statement I am encouraged to get back at him by dating a Paraguayan.  Rainy days save me from all of this.  I don’t mean to sound like I don’t love Paraguay, I do.  The people are more hospitable than anywhere I have ever been.  My host-mom is actually insane (in the best possible way) and has taken to flashing me and asking me if she can see my ‘tetes moroti’ (white boobs).  It’s fun having everyone want to be your friend and want to learn more about you – but that doesn’t mean that I don’t LOVE a good rainy day every once in a while. 

10 Months in Paraguay

It is hard for me to believe that I have been in Paraguay for 10 months.  In a few weeks G-39 will swear in, and after that G-40 (my sister G) will arrive.  I think this is a milestone for most volunteers.  The reason is that we along with our ‘older’ sister G, G-34, help train G-40.

–Side Note: We are G’s because we are trained in Guarambare, so my group was the 37^th group of trainees to go through Guarambare.  Every third G will be the same sector because it rotates, Rural Health and Sanitation swear-in in April, Community Economic Development swears- in in August and Agricultural Extension and Environmental Education swear-in in December.  This concept was confusing for me when I first arrived in Paraguay and it took a while for me to realize my sister-G wasn’t the G directly before and after me. 

After 10 months in Paraguay and 7 ½ in site, I wish that I could tell you that my Guarani was improving; it isn’t.  I started studying more and I have posters around my room with verbs and sentence structure but it’s not coming together.  My main issue is that I can already speak Spanish. I had thought this would be awesome because I could just focus on Guarani and not worry about Spanish; unfortunately, when I don’t understand what people say in Guarani they just switch to Spanish and encourage me to do the same.  They later ask why I don’t speak more Guarani. I found out that other Ag volunteers lied about their Spanish abilities in site so they would be forced to learn Guarani.  I wish I had found this out before I got to site, not 4 months in when everyone knew my Spanish abilities.  

Besides constantly struggling with language I have also been doing more work in my garden. Unfortunately it appears that my tomatoes have caught a virus, for which there is no cure, and will all be dead within the week.  I think that is what I get for being so proud of the absurd amount of tomatoes I had.  Next summer my plan is to watch them more closely, kill any that seem to be a little sick, and not brag about my massive amount of tomatoes.  I am doing my best to eat my humble pie but it isn’t going down easy. 

Luckily, I still have my garlic, spinach, lettuce, green beans, and carrots.  For my first ever garden I am going to (humbly) say it’s a success!  My demo plot with my contact is also germinating and I think that I might try to plant crops in order to make a homemade chicken feed this spring (fall for you northern hemisphere folks).  I also am planning on buying 3 egg-laying hens in early August (Sorry Ma, I know you wanted to get them first but you were just too slow).

I am still teaching English in the school and in the church, although the attendance in church is dwindling.  In addition I am working with a commission in the community to try and get funding for pipes, a tank, and a motor in order to give 10 families access to running water.  What this means is that I am in charge of filling out the USAID forms; it’s as fun as it sounds.  My main frustration with this project is that I am not being invited to the meetings surrounding the project.  Some of the people think that I just have to call Peace Corps, tell them I need 12.000.000Gs and BOOM I get it.  No strings attached.  Actually I need to write essays, fill out forms, make spreadsheets, and explain where every last Guarani will be spent. All this being said, I really hope that this project can happen. I think I am getting nervous about how I can positively affect the community and helping to fund the running water project would definitely be a step in the right direction.  

All in all Copper and I are doing well in Paraguay.  She is getting neutered in September and doesn’t chase the chickens as often as she used to.  She also hates the town drunk, which I am insanely proud of. She is only 5 months old but she growls at him with the ferocity of a 3 year old German shepherd.  I firmly believe she is one of the best decisions I have made so far in Paraguay.  She barks a lot and chases children but I sleep better knowing I have a furry little friend watching over me.