Thursday, December 3, 2009

Process and Vindication

Greetings from sunny Paraguay. I´ve just come back from Thanksgiving weekend, celebrated by about 100 PCV´s every year at the Hotel Tirol outside of Encarnación, Paraguay. It´s a great weekend filled with laughter, good food (even turkey and stuffing), swimming, music, dancing, good conversations and perhaps even a beer or two (Dad, you can edit that last part out for the Trinity Leader). Now it´s back to the campo, where honey harvest season is in full swing.
Recently we harvested for the first time with my beekeeping committee members, who began practicing beekeeping with me when I arrived last year and have now gone through all the essential steps of a season, from capture to harvest. The committee is a group of very special individuals. They collaborated with their own money to buy two brand-new bee boxes, contributing 36,000 Guaranies a piece. This equals about $7.20, but for poor small farmers in Paraguay, it´s a lot of money. Beekeeping is an almost perfect development activity, since it requires little work, is relatively easy to understand, conforms to local practices, is intrinsically interesting and enjoyable work, and brings in good profits. I say ¨almost,¨ however, because the initial investment to buy the equipment is sizable, and not practical for many poor farmers. But a group of 15 members putting their money together toward the project can begin relatively easily. Unfortunately many committees in Paraguay are reluctant to do this, perhaps because 1) They would prefer to apply for and receive government or NGO grants, 2) They don´t have enough trust in one another to contribute their own money, or 3) They just don´t feel they can spare the extra capital. However, when people put their own money into something, they feel they have a greater share in it and are therefore more likely to continue working on the project. Thankfully, the committee had enough trust in each other, and in me, to give it a shot. Last week´s harvest, a solid 12 liters, was for me a vindication, both of my work with the group and, in a larger sense, of my work with the Peace Corps in general. So much of what we as Volunteers do, the impact that we have, is unquantifiable, unmeasurable, and often that makes us feel uncertain or insecure about the value of what we´re doing. But when you hold a bottle full of pure, delicious honey you and your friends harvested, you see a tangible result of your hard work. I have done something good. After nearly two years of mixed results and adjusted expectations, it´s nice to just feel proud of myself.
Included below are some pictures of recent life, work, etc. Enjoy and Merry Christmas to all (you really think I´m gonna make another blog post before Christmas?) Peace...
Me and Hugo, drinking tereré and gearing up for a capture.

Inside a wild hive of Africanized bees during a capture.
I´m pretty hardcore. Bees don´t even sting me though because
1. They´re afraid of me, and
2. They can smell my Zen and they know I´m not a threat.




Honey inspections. The bees cap the honey panels with wax when they´re finished dehydrating the nectar they bring from flowers. This panel is about ready for harvest.




New life. Born in the middle of a thunderstorm. Can´t think of a scarier,
more jolting way to enter the world.




Me and Fernando leading an Agriculture workshop to a
mixed group of Acuña locals and new, green PC Trainees.


Host dad Valerio ¨Willy¨ harvesting honey.






Fruits of my labor.





Artifact from Jesuit ruins near Encarnación. The Jesuits may have had a quasi-colonial influence, teaching Spanish and converting the indigenous Guaraní to Christianity, but they also learned to speak Guaraní, lived in peace with the locals, taught them about agriculture and organized them into larger, sustainable communities. It still smacks of colonialism but it´s a lot better than what the greedy, murderous Spanish Empire was doing. There is a possible corrollary between Jesuits vs. Spain and Peace Corps vs. US Gov´t./Multinational Corp.´s.
At least the Jesuits were trying to do the right thing, and ultimately were on the people´s side.
Whose side are you on?

Thursday, August 20, 2009

Back in Bolivia: Photos


Gringo in Bolivia. I took this same photo a year ago when my hair was much shorter and I was a whole lot more naive. Good to be back in Sopachuy, I love that town.

Andrew.


Cloud Forest, Samaipata.
What the difference is between a cloud forest and a rain forest I don´t know but I could probably come up with a dumbass answer real quick. Or you could check Wikipedia. Go ahead, do it.
If not it will bug you all day.

Dan.


Dan at campfire.


Incan ruins at Samaipata.

Mi ahijado (godson) Antonio in Sucre. (Sucre, by the way, was a general in Bolivia´s war of independence, and his name was also Antonio.)


Dan and my comadre (mother of my godson) Roxana sippin´ juice.


Imitating the Rio de Janeiro Jesus statue.
It was Dan´s idea.


Don Tomas and his kid in Sopachuy.


Very dusty and therefore hazy, eerie day atop the mountain in Sopachuy.


Me, Elena, Jose Luis, lil Daniela, Valentina, and Dan.


Uyuni Salt Flats for a 3 day tour. They harvest it and it keeps coming back.

Tour guide decided to take a shortcut through the mud field.
Hey, good idea, tour guide.

...Stuck in the middle of the f------ desert, where it gets down to about zero farenheit at night,
no radio.
Driver went to get help, we stayed put cursing his dumb ass out.
And, naturally, hoping we would live to see another day.


Luckily another tour guide came to our rescue, and he immediately got stuck too. We hiked back to a nearby hotel (45 minute walk, after dark, freezing winds, about 15 farenheit) while the drivers stayed working on getting the SUVs out all night long (much more hardcore than us). They succeeded at about 4 a.m. the next morning.


Tour Day 2. Stuck again. In the sand this time, more easily fixed, 20 minutes.
I swear it must have been this guy´s first time leading a tour.
I think I could have done a better job myself and I can´t even drive a stick.


Me and mountain.




Untouched country except for the SUV tracks. And you might think, ¨oh, well, what a shame to have messed up the beauty of nature with those SUV tracks.¨ But of course the other option is having all of this beauty go to waste by not being shared with human beings.


Dan is eating.


At Uyuni it is very easy to be a good photographer.


Dan at the Laguna Colorada. If you go during the daytime it looks all red because of the algae that swim on the surface. ¨But don´t take my word for it! It´s in a book, on Reading Rainbow...¨


Sunset. But you already knew that just from looking at the picture. How? How did you know it wasn´t a sunrise? Why do they look different from one another? Can I get a scientist up in here?


Me, far away, in a big white salt desert.


...Corps.


Sunrise. But, you knew that, didn´t you?
Or did you?

Alpacas.


Very hot water. Smells like rotten eggs (sulfur).


3 days without a shower and then I bathed in my underwear in the thermal pool. It felt great but my underwear was frozen 10 minutes after getting out.


The Takesi Trail, part of the Inca Trail. Translated in Quechua, takesi apparently means ¨suffering.¨ We suffered a bit on the trail for sure.


Yours. Truly. Admit it, you didn´t know that was a sunrise in the other photo. I´m just crazy. Oh well, I guess that´s what spending two years in solitude trying to be a hero keeping bees in the third world will do to you. Cheers!



I mean it´s not Everest but it´s some pretty sweet sh%t.




Lots of reflective lakes around these parts.


I promise not to make any baaaaad jokes about this photo.




We were much higher up than that dam, as you can see.


Dan and I weren´t exactly in our right minds but this seemed at the time to be the best lunch we had ever had.



...And the next day you´re in the jungle, having descended some 2,000 meters. That reminds me, did you check and find out what the difference between a cloud forest and a rain forest is?
Can you e-mail me and let me know? I don´t like Wikipedia.





My poor foot after all that hiking. Dan had waterproof shoes.


Lake Titicaca.


That is a dumb name for a boat.
Whoever gave that boat that name is asking for trouble.


Dan in front of Lake Titicaca.


La Paz, 3,600 meters. I don´t know how many feet that is but it´s a lot.


Back in the P-guay, my winter garden. Lots of lettuce, tomatoes, carrots, beets, cabbage, and kale


Might just look like grass to you, but this is the latest in organic agriculture! A field of black oats for soil coverage (see explanation in post below).


Mom´s resting after the first two came out. Two more were left to go.


¡Viva Paraguay! The annual festival in Altos, my neighboring town. Lots of flags and drums.




Cool! Hope everyone is doing well. Peace...