Skinnin´ Alligators

Greetings all and happy 2009! That´s me, drinking terere, yerba mate with cold water and herbs. Everyone drinks like 5 liters a day of this stuff, no kidding.

During the Thanksgiving holiday we visited some Jesuit ruins near Encarnación.

Fernando, my host brother, work partner and best friend in Acuña.

The tatakua, a traditional wood stove. You make a big fire, then you take out all the firewood and the residual heat cooks your food. Very cool, very hot.

Watering my huerta. No rain for forty days makes for 8-inch high sunflowers. But the brandywine tomatoes I´ve got growing under my shade structure seem to be doing pretty well.

Christmas dinner with the host fam. If you can´t see the snow in the picture, it´s because it was dark. And also because the temperature was 100 degrees.

The centerpiece of this photo exposition, the alligator we hunted, killed and ate day after Christmas. Don Valerio, the father of my host family, told us about a big lizard he´d seen sleeping under a tree, and asked if we´d like to kill and eat it. He didn´t have to ask twice. We didn´t even know it was an alligator until after Don Valerio had speared it. The gator was about 2-3 feet long. I delivered the death blow with a machete to the neck. It was the first time I had killed an animal. Raise your hand if you´ve ever killed an alligator? Nope, didn´t think so.

I rule.

Skinning the jakare. If you´ve never had alligator you are missing out. It is delicious, especially when you killed it yourself!

Me and my host dad Valerio ¨Willy.¨

The turkey is sort of the policeman of the house. He patrols around, puffing himself up, and gobbling. The gobbling is cool at first but it gets old real fast.

If there´s anybody out there still following this blog other than my parents, sorry for the sparse updates. There´s no internet in my site so I only get a chance to update now and then. But I did, at least, get to see the video of that guy throwing a shoe at W.

A merry merry Christmas

And a happy new year

Let´s hope it´s a good one

Without any fear.

- John Lennon

Virgins and Benefit Concerts

Greetings from the surface of the sun. It's been a while (is awhile a word, or is it necessary to divide it in two?) since I updated my blog, again I will shamelessly use the old "I have no access to the internet where I live" excuse. I'm in Asuncion today because I'm playing tonight in a benefit concert, with other Peace Corps bands and some Paraguayan groups too. It's no Farm Aid or anything, but it should be a good time.

Life is good in site. Last week was the annual festival of the Virgin of Caacupe, a 9-day event attended by 3 million Paraguayans (half of the country's population). The tradition is to walk to Caacupe to honor the Virgin, but we sort of cheated and took a bus halfway there. We still had to walk about 20K though, nothing to sneeze at. The festival is supposedly a religious event, but with hundreds of thousands of people present the cathedral and the happenings there receive little attention. The rest of it is a giant market, with hundreds of food and souvenir vendors. It's sort of like a State Fair. My sister would have loved it.

Work is rolling, too, slowly but surely. My friend Hugo and I are making a bee smoker, and the tree planting project is rolling along steadily. Hopefully we'll get some seedlings in the ground by March or April, if the municipality gives us the funds we need.

Hope everyone is enjoying the cold weather, I sure miss it. Peace...

My New Site

Friends,


I´ve been in my new site, Acuña de Figueroa, for about two weeks now. It´s a beautiful place located about two hours from Asunción. I´m living, for now, with a host family, and my host brother is also my principal work contact. His name´s Fernando, and he´s a beekeeper and a great guy.


The first few months of service are about getting to know one´s site, talking to people, making friends, getting a sense of what the community´s interests and needs are. Fernando´s been taking me around to meet neighbors, attending community group meetings (a young persons´ group and a farmer´s committee, for example); and I spent much of my time in the first week preparing and planting a vegetable garden. This week, though, it´s been raining cats and dogs (note: I said that in Spanish and Fernando thought it was a ridiculous phrase. When you think about it, it really is.) and I´m afraid my plants are drowning... luckily Paraguayan soil is really sandy and drains well.


The group of jovenes (young people, mostly high school age) and I are tentatively planning a big tree-planting project: Acuña is all dirt roads, but there is a big road construction project going on now, and in the process lots of trees were cut. We want to plant trees on both sides of the roads throughout the community. It would be a big project, but a worthy one, and the group really seems to be excited about it. I´ll keep you guys posted.


That´s all for now. There´s no internet in my site, so I will be checking e-mail and making updates probably with less frequency than in Bolivia, but I´ll do my best.


Finally, please note the disclaimer at the right column which affirms that my comments do not necessarily reflect the position of the Peace Corps, etc. etc.....


OBAMA!!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!! OBAMA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Safe, Sweaty and Happy in the Paraguay

Hey all. A couple of weeks of R & R on the home front were excellent. It was great to see my people again, drink bourbon whiskey, laugh and cringe at Sarah Palin, sit down at Heine Bros. and listen to the schizophrenic bearded guy pontificate... just like old times. Now, back to work.

I arrived in Paraguay last Thursday and it is hot here. Ridiculously hot. In fact, the other day I actually had a CSNY ¨Almost cut my hair¨ moment. (But I didn´t, and I wonder why, I feel the need to let my freak flag fly...) Anyway Paraguay is gorgeous, in a completely different way from Bolivia. Gone are the striking mountains, the vibrant indigenous Quechua culture; but here it is green and lush, the soil is brick red, and everyone just sits around and drinks cold tea all afternoon. It is beautiful and I am happy to be here.

Fellow Bolivia PCVs Andy and Natalie arrived with me, and the three of us have a two-week intensive orientation. We`re getting an intro to Guaraní, the indigenous language spoken by 97% of the Paraguayan population, as well as technical classes in our respective fields. I`m staying with a very nice host family -- incidentally, my host dad looks like my Pappy and even has a belly scar like Pappy did, from an emergency surgery last year. (I know, only a few days and he`s already showing you his belly scars? He walks around without his shirt on a lot. Did I mention it`s hot here?)

Paraguay`s agriculture program is impressive. Their crop extension program includes some really neat techniques, like green manures and contour planting, which I`m excited to try out in site. But the beekeeping component is the coolest part: In Bolivia, my biggest frustration as a beekeeping volunteer was that the modern Langstroth hives we were trained to work with are expensive, and require a lot of costly inputs. As a result, it is very difficult to work with poorer folks in the campo that can`t afford that equipment, unless one applies for a grant (and even that is restrictive, since your grant will probably only cover a few individuals). But Paraguay`s beekeeping program also trains volunteers in construction of Kenya Top Bar Hives (KTBH), which with a decent saw can be made locally, from most forms of sturdy wood. The Beekeeping Extension program also trains PCVs in construction of smokers from materials like tin condensed-milk cans, and bee veils from plastic netting and fabric. The bottom line is that Paraguay`s focus on low-input technology makes it possible for anyone who`s interested to participate, not just those who can afford the equipment or the few invited to be included in a project. Key word in Peace Corps: Sustainability. Check.

Sorry to ramble on, for those of you who are skimming just know I am safe and healthy, and looking forward to these next 18 months.

I guess it`s a strange decision, after being pulled out of Bolivia, to sign on for another year-plus in another South American country. What can I say? I guess I`m a Maverick.

In fact, one might say that the 3 of us Bolivia-Paraguay PCVs are a team of mavericks.

Peace.

Que viva la Pachamama,
que viva Cuerpo de Paz,
que viva mi patria Bolivia,
y que viva el Paraguay.

Uncertain Roads

My head is spinning.

On the morning of Sept. 11, I was getting ready to make the 2-hour bike trip to visit Don Vicente's bees. His wife was out of town, which meant he was alone at home and forced to cook for himself: He thus had asked me to bring some eggs, so we could have something to eat. Around the world we men are helpless without women. I put the eggs in a ziploc, wrapped the ziploc in a towel and tucked the bundle away in my backpack, praying that at least a few would survive the bumpy ride to Vicente's. Unfortunately, I never got there.

I called Peace Corps to check in, because they had activated the Emergency Action Plan a day earlier. Since the EAP had been called already some seven times since I arrived to Bolivia, I wasn't too concerned. But, as it turned out, this time was different: Violence had erupted in Santa Cruz, Tarija, Pando and La Paz; Bolivian President Evo Morales accused the American ambassador, Philip Goldberg, of fomenting the violence by meeting with opposition departamental governors; Goldberg was thus declared persona non grata and ordered to leave the country. My bosses told me I was not allowed to leave my site, and to remain on standby until further notice.

At 4:30 p.m. my neighbor told me I had received an urgent call from Peace Corps. I called the central office in Cochabamba, and was told I must immediately get on a bus to Sucre, because all volunteers were to be consolidated in Coch. the following day. This left me about two hours to buy a bus ticket, say a few rushed, uncertain goodbyes and pack my things.

I was pretty certain it was over then. Unfortunately my best buddy Jorge was out of town at this time, and my counterpart Valerio was out working construction, so I wasn't able to give them the news or say goodbye. But my friend Valentina accompanied me while I packed my things and waited for the bus, and she knew from my face how serious the situation was. I got on the bus as the sun fell, put on my headphones to listen to one of my favorite Bruce Cockburn songs:

There's roads and there's roads, and they're calling, can't you hear it
Roads of the earth and roads of the spirit
The best roads of all are the ones that aren't certain
One of those is where you'll find me till they drop the big curtain

Hear the wind moan in the bright diamond sky
These mountains are calling, brown-green and dry
I'm too old for the term, but I'll use it anyway
I'll be a child of the wind till the end of my days

I looked out the bus window and saw the glow of an adobe stove, burning in someone's home across the river. From the circular opening in the stove, the fire glowed in a perfect disk, and I imagined it was that family's own little sun. Then the bus turned a corner and it was dark again.

We stayed in Cochabamba for a few days, and then on the 14th we were flown in a military C-130 to Lima, Peru. Once all the volunteers had arrived safely a day or so later, we were finally told the news: Peace Corps Bolivia had been suspended, and our service was over.

We were given a few options: 1) Close our service in good standing and return to the US; 2) opt to wait a few months and re-enroll for another 27 months in another country; or 3) apply for a spot to transfer directly to another post. A team of 9 Peace Corps staff members from Washington was flown in to organize this process. With 113 confused, frustrated, and demanding Peace Corps Volunteers to deal with, it was a bit complicated. But, more than a week later, our futures seem to be clear. Here's what I decided:

After eight months in Bolivia, things were actually starting to feel pretty good. I was becoming comfortable in my site, Sopachuy, had made some great friends, and the work was starting to make sense. The experience was just starting and I am not ready for it to be over. But I am also honestly not ready to commit to another 27 months. Thus I applied and was accepted to transfer to a program in Paraguay, where I will finish the remaining 18 months of my service working in their agriculture and beekeeping program.

The program starts October 8th, and Peace Corps has kindly offered to fly us all home to the US first, to wait for medical clearance and visa details to go through. So it looks like I'll be making an unexpected visit to the Ville for a week or so, to see family and friends, have a beer at Cumberland Brews, and get mentally ready for this next test.

It's been a tough couple of weeks, man. It was not easy to say goodbye to Sopachuy, and to all of my wonderful PCV friends. But all of this was out of my control, so I will try to accept it and look forward. And, despite everything, I am truly grateful for the experience in Bolivia. I don't regret anything.

See you guys soon.

Consolidation: Relax and Refocus

Can it be September already? It seems like I just got off the plane in La Paz, clueless, scared and nursing an altitude headache. But that was seven months ago. Of course, when your work day is not ¨9:15-10:15 class, 10:25-11:55 meeting, 12-12:45 lunch...¨ but is rather composed of la mañana and la tarde (always with a siesta in between), time passes rather quickly.

It was an unusual August. Here in Bolivia there was a referendum election on Evo Morales´ presidency, and Peace Corps Washington was worried about possible civil unrest. So they consolidated all of PC Bolivia- 120 volunteers, plus staff - in the Rio Selva resort outside of Santa Cruz. The Rio Selva was easily the nicest hotel I have ever stayed in: Well-furnished cabins, pool, jacuzzi, sauna and steam room, basketball and volleyball courts, waiters who only take your plate away when you line up your fork and knife just so atop your plate. Needless to say, when I applied for Peace Corps, a swim-up bar was not exactly what I had in mind. But hey, I wasn´t paying (thanks, American taxpayers!), so I certainly wasn´t complaining, either. Of course, the staff lined up a full schedule of meetings and classes, but we also had time to relax. There were also evening events, including an open-mic night: My friend Jackie and I did a cool version of ¨Oh Susanna,¨ and later I played my tune ¨Well-wisher¨ (those who have heard this angsty justice-as-personal-responsibility manifesto can imagine that it went over well with a crowd of Peace Corps volunteers). There was even a cross-dressing dance: Conveniently I forgot to take pictures, just imagine the repercussions for my 2028 presidential run.

It was good to see everyone from my training class again, and also to meet some of the volunteers from earlier groups. Talking to other PCVs is almost always a therapeutic experience: We often chat with one another about the challenges and frustrations we are facing. The Peace Corps experience can be stressful, and just the ability to empathize with someone in a similar situation is helpful and necessary. It helps you to realize that you are not crazy, or alone. As one songwriter observed, one of the most comforting phrases we have is ¨me, too.¨ Equally encouraging was the opportunity to meet some of the more experienced volunteers, who have overcome the initial growing pains and are now comfortable, successful PCVs.

Along with being a nice break (and a huge expense for Peace Corps - the elections passed without serious incidents), consolidation was a chance to refocus and plan for the next few months in Sopachuy. I´ve been back in site now for a couple of weeks, and am starting to branch out a little more: Making worm compost with a local girls´ school, learning play racquetball (surprisingly, a very popular sport in Bolivia), planning visits to the campo with beekeepers and farmers.

After four months in site, I have gotten my bearings and am settling in. I have a feeling these next few months will be more productive, and tranquilo (assuming the political situation remains stable). Of course, there will be some surprises. But I´m looking forward to those, too.

Best wishes to all in the Ville. Rocks, BEAT ST. X. Everybody watch the presidential debates and then go vote. (For change.) Peace!

This is Sopachuy

Hey all. Sorry for the delay in photos. Enjoy...

I live in a very ugly place.

Me and my pueblo.

Slovak volunteer Barbora and me in the new forage garden.

Siesta.

Whoa.

My two best friends in Bolivia: PCV Ben and Sopachueño Jorge.

Jorge testing out the honey shampoo on my domepiece in my kitchen (behind, PCV Lebo and Sopachuy Slovak volunteer Barbora). I insisted on being the guinea pig in case the stuff made your hair fall out. It did not.

The main plaza in Sopachuy.

Our stand at the Sopachuy Agricultural Fair, where we sold honey shampoo, lip balm, propolis and honey. The guys in the hats are my work partners Vicente (left) and Valerio.