This session is all about housing, food, and why I don’t need to change my American perspective just this once...
Let me begin by saying that my sister and brother-in-law (along with every other member of my family) has done an excellent job spoiling—I mean, loving—me. For this reason, I have come to have rather high expectations in life. I came into the Peace Corps expecting physical and emotional hardship, all the while knowing in the back of my mind that the good times would certainly outweigh the bad and that I would have an exceptionally wonderful service simply because I’m me.
This is not entirely untrue. During training, I was one of the few trainees who encountered no problems with my host family. I had privacy, good food, encouragement, and a sense of inclusion in the family. Now as a volunteer, while not in the ideal situation, I still have come across a loving family that has offered me a full access to their home, their hearts, and their time.
I expected this wonderfulness to continue without hindrance. As I searched for more permanent housing, my host sister mentioned this beautiful 2 story house up the street. It is fabulous by rural Paraguayan standards and pleased my American sense of material elegance: it had a large kitchen with a gas stove (yay!), an unnecessarily large bathroom with the best water heating system available in the country, three bedrooms, and an attic that could be converted to make the perfect dance and arts studio. Of course, I wanted this house.
The owner, currently in Argentina, wanted me to pay $400USD. I laughed out loud because A.) I’m not paying USD for anything here B.) “volunteer” means I have no money, US or otherwise. Trying not to insult her, I explained that I “can’t” pay in USD. Then she asked for $450g, which is more reasonable (and well under $400USD) and I said I’d consider her offer. After conferring with other volunteers I concluded that I would only afford that house if I ate instant noodles for two years and never left my site. The other volunteer in my area is only paying $200g for her house, which is smaller but is still very nice. My counter offer was $300g. She didn’t budge. My max was $350g and she still didn’t budge. She politely thanked me for my interest and hung up the phone.
Are you kidding?
Aside from being upset that she was throwing off my success-groove, I was saddened by this woman’s apparent lack of business savvy. Our town is VERY small. I am the only new person to arrive in three years. She simply isn’t going to have any other offers on that house! She would rather have no income and have the house overrun by spiders than to have an additional $300g in her account each month (only $150g less than she expected). What nonsense!
So I’m still with my great host family, but sleeping in an old corner store. This is less than fabulous, but I have to remember that I am in the Peace Corps. Not the chuchi-super-fancy-house Corps, not the Desperate-House-Wives-of-Atlanta-Corps, but the I’m-dedicating-two-years-of-my-life-to-help-others-and-better-myself Corps. That might mean not having a two story house, which is fine.
Did I mention that a lot of my fellow volunteers and living in wooden shacks, sharing a room with three or more children, fetching questionable well water, and using wood burning stoves? Yeah. I won’t complain about my situation. But that’s just it. I have lived so well it is difficult for me not to expect more. It’s not a matter of deserving more, or needing more, or even being dissatisfied with less. It is simply that I am accustomed to more, and part of my Peace Corps journey seems to be lowering my expectations in life...right?
That is counter intuitive to me. No part of my upbringing supports that expectations should be lowered. If anything, expectations should be raised and precedents exceeded.
The standard of living should be raised. Why not? Why not have a community with clean running water, and secure and comfortable housing that uses sustainable resources? Isn’t that why we have Rural Economic Development and Rural Health and Sanitation departments in the Peace Corps? We aren’t preaching the gospel of superficiality and capitalism so much as trying to make people’s lives easier. There is nothing easy about hand washing clothes in filthy river water or chopping down every damn tree in town just to cook dinner.
So basically, I’m not changing my standards. I’m content with what I have but will continue to aim for more/
Let’s take Paraguayan food for example. Grab an animal, cook it in grease, and add some mandioca (like potatoes with nothing on them). Dinner is done! Everyday. I won’t settle for that. So what did I do? I made tofu fried rice for my family, using the healthiest veggie oil I could find, a crap-load of veggies, and tofu instead of animals. Before that I made whole wheat pasta with eggplant and tomatoes, and before that I made veggie omelets. They loved it all! Three days this week my family ate healthier because I didn’t settle for, “Well, at least they have food.” If you’re going to eat, why not eat food that actually benefits your body?
If you’re going to live, live well.
Agree?
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I'm Officially a Volunteer!
SWEARING-IN WEEKEND
So you bust your butt for about three months in preparation to become a volunteer. You would think that they swearing-in process would be monumental, right? The event didn’t live up to the hype. Fortunately, the events before and after swearing-in were sufficient.
The week before swearing-in is the infamous talent show. It’s a free for all, open for no-talent, true talent, and anything in between. The education group decided to create a mixture; the guys mocked our health charlas and created a rap about sevo’i and ghiardia. I, along with my chicas, choreographed a backup dance. I must admit that I am very proud of our efforts. The lyrics were actually GOOD and the choreography was fun and energetic. (During our first rehearsal I wore the Michael Jackson’s Thriller T-Shirt my brother gave me, which helped me channel the late King of Pop.) We presented at the talent show amidst cheers and applause. Then we won :o) It might seem silly, but it was one of the best moments that I’ve had in training because everyone worked together and had a great time in the process.
Later that week we packed all our crap and heading into Asuncion for the official ceremony.
I swore in as an official volunteer on April 30. The ceremony was at the U.S. Embassy, which reminds me more of a botanical garden than an office building. The grounds are impeccably maintained with tropical foliage, and even a little waterfall.
The ceremony itself wasn’t groundbreaking, and after three months of emotionally draining training I expected more of a catharsis. But alas. The ambassador gave a speech—which, based on the amount of “ums” and its painfully apparent lack of organization, was improvised—followed by a volunteer’s speech. Then we ate cake. After that we all sort of looked at each other and tried to figure what we should do as official volunteers.
AFTER PARTY
I’ve got to be honest. Most of us made some really bad decisions as official volunteers. Yes, swear-in weekend is all about partying it up in the big city before venturing out to our prospective sites. Unfortunately, that tradition comes with a price. The price is having a bunch of drunken, loud, horny volunteers storming the city like we own it. There was more than one occasion when I was really ashamed of our behavior, and I questioned why such behavior is tolerated by the Powers That Be of the Peace Corps (and yes, they know exactly what’s going on). Fortunately, I did find my niche throughout the weekend. I got to spend time with people that I didn’t often see during training.
Being who I am, one of the highlights of the swear-in weekend was the food. Most of my friends ate cheap so they could spend money on beer. Not being much of a beer drinker, I took advantage of every night to eat at a great restaurant and selecting exactly what I wanted. It was marvelous. The food itself wasn’t “exotic” but it was good. The best dishes were from a Mexican restaurant (Hacienda de las Palomas) and Korean (I’m clueless of the name, because the sign was written in Korean, but it is on Avenida Peru near Mercado 4).
In Georgia, my siblings and I ate Mexican or Tex-Mex at least twice a week. Having gone without for three months is unfathomable. I nearly cried with joy when my friends and I approached the restaurant. We walked into the quintessential setting of warm hues and faux antique finishes. I welcomed the familiar aromas and salivated as I scanned the menu. I wanted everything--but first, a Tequila Sunrise. There was so much laughter and picture taking, it was like prom-night dinner. I ordered shrimp fajitas (because I hadn’t had shrimp in three months, which is also unfathomable) and savored every drop. There wasn’t cheese, which threw me off, but I easy ordered some along with some tasty guacamole.
In Georgia, we also had Japanese at least once a week. My friends weren’t down for Japanese food (claiming that there could be no good sushi in a landlocked country) so the closest I could get was Korean. I had never eaten Korean food before, and was really excited when my friend proposed going to the ever-shady Mercado 4 and trying out a restaurant. The free appetizers were a meal in themselves, and I was glad to try traditional favorites like kimchi. There was also spicy calamari and a vegetable soup with tofu. We were rolled out of the restaurant.
Other personal highlights include dancing until 5am, more than my fair share of coffee at a sidewalk café, and growing closer to my fellow volunteers in the process. Regardless of some of our behavior, I know that G-32 will have some kick-butt volunteers and I’m excited about the work that we will do here.
FIRST DAYS AT SITE
We can’t do great things if we can’t get to our freakin’ sites. For some of us, just getting to our new homes on Tuesday was a pain. Some roads flooded, trapping volunteers between Asuncion and unknown towns on the way to their sites. Others had buses that only left twice a day to take them to sites hours away—don’t be late or you’re stuck waiting 24 hours or more for your next ride.
For me, I arrived without much of a problem, only to find that I didn’t have place to stay. The teacher who was going to rent her house to rented it out to someone else at the last minute. And by last minute I mean she didn’t even tell me until I called her that morning. Anyway, the current volunteer in my site was able to find a place for me to stay and everything worked out. Likely for the best. I slept in a community center for the first two nights (NOT glamorous) before moving in with the family next door. Now I am sleeping in an old store (also NOT glamorous, but this is the Peace Corps). The plus side, which outweighs all, is that I am staying with an amazingly awesome family.
Wednesday, the current volunteer and I went to the neighboring pueblo of Santani (San Estanislao). It’s pretty perfect. There is a great grocery store that has a few American favorites, a mini Mercado 4 that is infinitely less shady but just as inexpensive, and a café with wi-fi. I think I’m set. This is the Peace Corps but I never claimed to be campo material.
Tomorrow I’m going to drag myself out of my comfort zone and head to the schools. I plan to start simple, working only with preschool and kindergarten for 4 hours, 3 days a week. I also want to pull kids out the classes that are really behind and work with them one on one in the area of writing/reading. The great thing about it all is that I can work at my own pace as long as I communicate my plans well to the teachers. As I grow more comfortable with my language abilities, I can increase my hours and work with more grades.
Prayers are welcomed. Wish me luck. Positive vibes are needed. Whatever your sense of peace, send it my way :o)
So you bust your butt for about three months in preparation to become a volunteer. You would think that they swearing-in process would be monumental, right? The event didn’t live up to the hype. Fortunately, the events before and after swearing-in were sufficient.
The week before swearing-in is the infamous talent show. It’s a free for all, open for no-talent, true talent, and anything in between. The education group decided to create a mixture; the guys mocked our health charlas and created a rap about sevo’i and ghiardia. I, along with my chicas, choreographed a backup dance. I must admit that I am very proud of our efforts. The lyrics were actually GOOD and the choreography was fun and energetic. (During our first rehearsal I wore the Michael Jackson’s Thriller T-Shirt my brother gave me, which helped me channel the late King of Pop.) We presented at the talent show amidst cheers and applause. Then we won :o) It might seem silly, but it was one of the best moments that I’ve had in training because everyone worked together and had a great time in the process.
Later that week we packed all our crap and heading into Asuncion for the official ceremony.
I swore in as an official volunteer on April 30. The ceremony was at the U.S. Embassy, which reminds me more of a botanical garden than an office building. The grounds are impeccably maintained with tropical foliage, and even a little waterfall.
The ceremony itself wasn’t groundbreaking, and after three months of emotionally draining training I expected more of a catharsis. But alas. The ambassador gave a speech—which, based on the amount of “ums” and its painfully apparent lack of organization, was improvised—followed by a volunteer’s speech. Then we ate cake. After that we all sort of looked at each other and tried to figure what we should do as official volunteers.
AFTER PARTY
I’ve got to be honest. Most of us made some really bad decisions as official volunteers. Yes, swear-in weekend is all about partying it up in the big city before venturing out to our prospective sites. Unfortunately, that tradition comes with a price. The price is having a bunch of drunken, loud, horny volunteers storming the city like we own it. There was more than one occasion when I was really ashamed of our behavior, and I questioned why such behavior is tolerated by the Powers That Be of the Peace Corps (and yes, they know exactly what’s going on). Fortunately, I did find my niche throughout the weekend. I got to spend time with people that I didn’t often see during training.
Being who I am, one of the highlights of the swear-in weekend was the food. Most of my friends ate cheap so they could spend money on beer. Not being much of a beer drinker, I took advantage of every night to eat at a great restaurant and selecting exactly what I wanted. It was marvelous. The food itself wasn’t “exotic” but it was good. The best dishes were from a Mexican restaurant (Hacienda de las Palomas) and Korean (I’m clueless of the name, because the sign was written in Korean, but it is on Avenida Peru near Mercado 4).
In Georgia, my siblings and I ate Mexican or Tex-Mex at least twice a week. Having gone without for three months is unfathomable. I nearly cried with joy when my friends and I approached the restaurant. We walked into the quintessential setting of warm hues and faux antique finishes. I welcomed the familiar aromas and salivated as I scanned the menu. I wanted everything--but first, a Tequila Sunrise. There was so much laughter and picture taking, it was like prom-night dinner. I ordered shrimp fajitas (because I hadn’t had shrimp in three months, which is also unfathomable) and savored every drop. There wasn’t cheese, which threw me off, but I easy ordered some along with some tasty guacamole.
In Georgia, we also had Japanese at least once a week. My friends weren’t down for Japanese food (claiming that there could be no good sushi in a landlocked country) so the closest I could get was Korean. I had never eaten Korean food before, and was really excited when my friend proposed going to the ever-shady Mercado 4 and trying out a restaurant. The free appetizers were a meal in themselves, and I was glad to try traditional favorites like kimchi. There was also spicy calamari and a vegetable soup with tofu. We were rolled out of the restaurant.
Other personal highlights include dancing until 5am, more than my fair share of coffee at a sidewalk café, and growing closer to my fellow volunteers in the process. Regardless of some of our behavior, I know that G-32 will have some kick-butt volunteers and I’m excited about the work that we will do here.
FIRST DAYS AT SITE
We can’t do great things if we can’t get to our freakin’ sites. For some of us, just getting to our new homes on Tuesday was a pain. Some roads flooded, trapping volunteers between Asuncion and unknown towns on the way to their sites. Others had buses that only left twice a day to take them to sites hours away—don’t be late or you’re stuck waiting 24 hours or more for your next ride.
For me, I arrived without much of a problem, only to find that I didn’t have place to stay. The teacher who was going to rent her house to rented it out to someone else at the last minute. And by last minute I mean she didn’t even tell me until I called her that morning. Anyway, the current volunteer in my site was able to find a place for me to stay and everything worked out. Likely for the best. I slept in a community center for the first two nights (NOT glamorous) before moving in with the family next door. Now I am sleeping in an old store (also NOT glamorous, but this is the Peace Corps). The plus side, which outweighs all, is that I am staying with an amazingly awesome family.
Wednesday, the current volunteer and I went to the neighboring pueblo of Santani (San Estanislao). It’s pretty perfect. There is a great grocery store that has a few American favorites, a mini Mercado 4 that is infinitely less shady but just as inexpensive, and a café with wi-fi. I think I’m set. This is the Peace Corps but I never claimed to be campo material.
Tomorrow I’m going to drag myself out of my comfort zone and head to the schools. I plan to start simple, working only with preschool and kindergarten for 4 hours, 3 days a week. I also want to pull kids out the classes that are really behind and work with them one on one in the area of writing/reading. The great thing about it all is that I can work at my own pace as long as I communicate my plans well to the teachers. As I grow more comfortable with my language abilities, I can increase my hours and work with more grades.
Prayers are welcomed. Wish me luck. Positive vibes are needed. Whatever your sense of peace, send it my way :o)
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