Thursday, September 27, 2007
Today after work I was pretty tired, so on the way home I stopped to talk and drink térere with some neighbours. Actually they are not truly neighbours, but a chaufer and a security guard who work for a wealthy neighbour and are always just hanging around outside the house, and a lady who sells “the necessities” (eggs, yerba for drinking tereré, and cookies) from a little shack across the street. I think it is the highlight of their day when I stop and chat for awhile, not because I am incredibly special or anything, but they have the most boring jobs in the whole world. Sometimes the lady brings a little TV and watches soap operas, and the guys smoke and play lottery for their entertainment. Anyways, today was fun because I learned the nicknames they have for people who often pass by. I even have a nickname! In Guarani it is something like “walks fast” and in Spanish it is “roadrunner.” I think it suits me well.
Jason arrived yesterday. I am really happy to have another North American to hang out with, but in some ways it makes me sad because I know my time here is coming to an end soon. When I leave here, you will all have to start reading about his experiences in
Monday, September 24, 2007
My sister said she thinks I am crazy for writing about how I was worried about adjusting back to North American culture, since I lived in it for 23 years, and it cannot even be compared to the shock I felt coming here. But honestly I think I have spent more time worrying about going home than I did about preparing to come here. Ben said it will probably only get worse as the time draws near and he gave me a book to read called “re-entry” to help missionaries make a better transition going back home, even if they have only been gone a year or so like I have. It is basically one big metaphor about space travel. I liked the story about Sergei Krikalev, a Soviet cosmonaut. Well, he left as a Soviet, and while he was in space the
Anyways, enough of my complaints. The book on re-entry says that lots of times returning missionaries get depressed because they don’t get a big welcome back and they don’t have a strong support group like they had on their mission. Plus, where they were foreigners and special among the people they worked with, at home they are just like everyone else. The great thing is that I know I will have a great welcome home and lots of people who will be interested in hearing my experiences and looking at pictures, right? My church and my family and my friends always made me feel special even before I left. I am such a lucky girl. I decided that instead of worrying so much about leaving I am just going to enjoy my time here, and take advantage of the fact that people here want to make me feel special before I leave. Yesterday at Karen’s house we had a big “family” meal, I guess of which I am included, and it was so noisy that it felt just like Christmas, and we stayed all day long just being together. Then when we were walking to take the bus home, Rey and I passed by Pastor Pedro’s house, and were invited in for a second snack! I remember one of Ed’s sermons in which he talked about a book called “Bowling Alone” and how a major problem in North American society is that so many people spend so much time alone, even to the point of going out to eat or going bowling alone. It would be difficult to have this problem in
Thursday, September 20, 2007
A lot of people have made comments about how adventurous and daring I was to move to Paraguay without knowing the Spanish and only knowing Ben and trying to teach English, etc. etc. And I appreciate those comments. But I received some visitors this week that made my living situation seem ridiculously safe and comfortable.
My family moved to the country when I was 5, and Tennille lived just down the road and around the corner, but we preferred to travel through the woods between our houses. I spent the majority of summer during my elementary school years in our secret fort with a real linoleum floor and an upstairs, even though the upstairs was filled with mouse poop and the bottom flooded every spring, and the game ended in sixth grade when my brother and his annoying friend discovered it, although I suppose by that time we were already losing interest in playing house and preferred volleyball instead. So for the next six years, we played on every single sports team together and in the end spent a total of twelve years riding the bus together before we went our separate ways. Oh wait, she also drove me to school during one semester of university.
Anyways, Tennille has been traveling around
In Spanish, to say you have been to a place, you say that you “know” it. I wonder sometimes how much all of my visitors over the past two months were able to really experience, when I have spent almost a year here and I am still learning new things every day. I don’t know now if I would ever be able to go to a place for a week or even a month and feel like I “know” it. Remembering all those years at home with Tennille seems so far away (both in space and time) and I wonder how well I even know home anymore. I think when I go back it will be just as adventurous looking at
Thursday, September 13, 2007
It’s hot here already, always above 25 Celsius even at 5 in the morning, which was to be expected. What surprises me is the unusual aridity. I can’t even remember the last time we had a good tropical rain. When we sang a song in church last Wednesday about God sending rain, or when I read Psalm 63 “God you are my God, I thirst for you, my body faints for you in a dry and thirsty land where there is not water” I am forced to think in especially literal terms. Oscar and Dan and I went to one of the biggest waterfalls in the world this past weekend, Iguazu “big water” in Guarani, and it was overwhelmingly disappointing (included is a picture of Dan and I showing our disenchantment). I imagine it would have been very impressive if I had not already seen pictures of other years when it rose over the level of the bridges. We also visited the church in Hernandarias close by, and the community water tank was completely dry. Thankfully the people I stayed with had a well. When I asked what they will do when their well runs out, they replied “we’ll wait.”
I am feeling a little dry right now too. I only have a month and a half of teaching left, but I am starting to get a little tired and I think my classes are getting boring (like my blogs, right?) I just got secure in my language skills and interaction with the culture, and now have to think about going back home and going through it all in reverse. But I suppose instead of worrying about it too much, I will borrow the attitude of my faith-full friend from Hernandarias and just “wait.” For inspiration, I have been reading a lot of Psalms (131 I have calmed and quieted myself like a weaned child with its mother” and 146 “the Lord protects foreigners”), and I am also reading Desiring God by John Piper for the second time, in Spanish. Finally, I am listening to a CD of songs and sermons from Western camp that Ben shared with me. It’s practically like I’m sitting there in the tabernacle or at the campfire watching the sunset.
This Friday is our school Olympics day, which I am really looking forward to, except that now they are forecasting rain. I really want to write something fascinating about
Monday, September 03, 2007
I guess it’s a little late, but this week after being here for almost 11 months
exactly, I was reading a book about the stress of being a missionary in a different
culture. Basically it confirmed to me that all the difficulties that I went through
at the beginning were just normal and to be expected. Included were some tips to
reduce stress, and one of them was to not be afraid to retain some of the customs
from your native land and be a little eccentric, and now I am going to tell a story
about how I put that advice into practice.The first Sunday night of every month we have a special tithe-giving service. I think it is intentionally modeled after the celebrations of tithe-giving in the Old Testament. The people set apart ten-percent of their yearly crop and then brought the goods to the place of worship and have a big party with it. See Deuteronomy 14. We sing happy songs of thanksgiving and listen to an inspiring message about the blessing of giving. We put it into practice by offering the tithes and then eating together because we recognize how much God has blessed us. We always eat basically the same food: empanadas, sanwiches, anything fried or starchy. A long time ago I wanted to bring a veggie tray but my roommate warned against it, saying that no one would eat it. But after being encouraged by the book to be a little different, yesterday I brought a big bowl of sliced raw carrots. It was terribly embarrassing to see that when all the food was set out, my bowl remained in the corner still covered up. And when the ladies went forward to serve the food, no one paid any attention to the yellow bowl. It took all my courage to go up and offer the people in the front row some carrots. Not until the fourth person did anyone take a handful. Unfortunately, it was Dan Munther, a fellow North American, which did not give me much hope. Some of the kids were asking “what is it?” (manna, haha). Another lady told Karen she thought I must have planned to cook them. My all-time favourite comment however, came from a pastor’s wife “I like my carrots with more salt…and meat.” But in the end the whole bowl was eaten, success! I am already planning for next month to bring a greater variety, and after that the cut them in fancy shapes, maybe add some dips or make vegetable shishkabobs. The possibilities are endless.