World Cup and fun things to come

So the U.S. has made it to the next round, and Paraguay plays today. FUERZA PARAGUAY!

I haven´t been able to watch too many of the games. The channel that they´re on comes in really fuzzy and black and white on my neighbor´s tv. Plus... people in my community don´t really care THAT much. Sure, they want Paraguay to do well and to win, but everyday work takes precedence. There´s still work to be done in the field... and so they go.

This weekend is the festival of San Juan (Saint John). It´s a big fundraiser for the school, and I´m looking forward to seeing the kids doing some Paraguayan dance, eating lots of chipa and sopa, and getting my own groove on at the nighttime party. Should be fun!

One week from tomorrow, my sister will be HERE. With me. I still can´t quite believe. And I´m SO EXCITED!!!! We are planning on celebrating the 4th of July at the Embassy in Asuncion, coming back and visiting my site for a few days, and then travelling across the border to Argentina and exploring around the city of Salta in the North.

Alright, gotta run for my VAC meeting with other PCVs in my area. We are, apparently, making hamburgers and watching the soccer game. Go Albiroja!! (the Paraguayan colors)

Come Rain...We Plant!

Rain is to rural Paraguay as...

A) fuzzy : slipper

B) peanut butter : jelly

C) blizzard : Michigan

Answer: C. While rain in rural Paraguay can make things interesting (like fuzz to a slipper) and is integral for good eats (like peanut butter to jelly), the most obviously fact is that rain here shuts everything down, just like a Michigan blizzard. School is cancelled, no one leaves to go work, public transportation doesn't run, and only the "crazies" brave those kind of elements.

This kind of massive halt shocked me at first. After all, in the U.S. we just throw on a raincoat, run out to the car, and try not to park in a puddle when we get to whereever we're going. No one would ever imagine saying, "Oh...it's raining outside. Guess I won't be going to work today!"

But the longer I live here, the more it makes sense to me. Poorly drained dirt roads turn into mudpits and rivers with a bit of precipitation, and the constant lakes turn into oceans. Those clothes you just got soaked in? That is one of 2 pairs of pants you have. And when it rains here, the rain is usually here to stay for at least 3 days. That means no laundry, because nothing will dry anyway with no sun and all of the humidity in the air. Hot shower? Your showering area probably doesn't have a roof, so even if you do heat up a pot of water over the fire for a warm bucket bath, it'll just mix with the cold rain and wind coming up from the South, whipping at your exposed body, leaving you just as chilled as you started.

So while this may be a little dramatic, you can see that there are plenty of understandable reasons why Paraguayans do not usually leave their houses when it rains.

And so maybe with this preface you can better understand my amazement, bewilderment, and great pride in regard to the following story.

Last Friday, June 4, 2010, despite drizzly conditions, a late start to the morning, and no prior plan involved, 13 adults (including myself) and a whole mess of kids walked an hour through rocks and mud to the womens' comité's newly designated community plot up on the hill. We planted 3 different winter "green manure" or "abono verde" crops - Avena Negra (Black Oats), Lupino (Lupine), and Nabo Forrajero (Forage Turnip).* All in all, we planted almost 80 pounds of seed, and because it was too muddy to use the simple planting machine, we did it all by hand. Señoras left their kitchens and hence their responsibility of feeding lunch to their families, señores left their work in other fields and around the house, and the kids... well they gave up their free "rain day" of no class to come work in the field. There were no tereré or lunch breaks. We left at 9am and got back at 3pm. Can you say GUAPO/A!?!

And oh man, did people have fun as well, joking around and hassling each other. It doesn't hurt that almost everybody in the community is related in some way or another. I swear it was like a neighborhood block party... but in the cottonfield! And it was amazing to see people so dedicated to the idea of working together that they would work on a day like this, against so many odds. I still don't really understand how it worked out, but I am very impressed nontheless. It will be fun to watch how the field comes up, and of course see what people think about it. The oats and turnips are already sprouting, as of yesterday!

*Green manures are crops that you plant for the purpose of recuperating or protecting your soil. They fix nitrogen, break up hardpan, and provide essential cover to keep soil and nutrients in place. Promotion of green manures are one of the key areas of the Agriculture sector of Peace Corps Paraguay. However, it is difficult to convince farmers to plant green manures for a number of reasons. It is a something "new" and strange, seeds can be hard to find, seeds cost money and don't provide a quick turnaround profit, etc. My community's seeds were loaned to them by KOICA (Korean Overseas Volunteer Association) on the conditions that they prepare a plot ahead of time, attend a daylong workshop about green manures hosted by KOICA, and return twice the amount of seed borrowed (half of the quantities mentioned above are planted for seed for next year, and half for demonstration of the benefits of green manures.) If everything goes well, each family in the comite will have the opportunity to plant abono verdes next winter, at no cost, from a source within their own community. Sounds like a start to… sustainability. YES!!

When I woke up that Friday morning, I had no idea what the day would bring. I thought to myself, “Ok it’s not great weather, but we really need to get these seeds in the ground.” So I texted my community contact Ña Merarda and went next door to talk to my neighbor Ña Venancia. Both were giving me the “Ikatu / Puede ser / Maybe…” and asking what the other thought, until I got a little huffy, called my contact, put her on speaker phone, and BAM. Before I knew it, we had an ox cart coming to pick up the seeds from my house and were soon on the road, walking barefoot through the mud, picking up people at just about every house we passed. I still can’t get over how amazing it was. I guess it’s a good lesson for me to remember as well. Just because I want to work with Paraguayans, respecting their social and work culture, this doesn’t mean I shouldn’t push a little, ask the questions no one else is, suggest an idea even when I suspect it won’t be popular. After all, look what can happen. J Rain day success!