Ellen in Paraguay

2007-12-13T19:46:00.001-02:00

Oops, I realized that I left off writing my blog rather undramatically. If anyone is still checking it, I had lots of things I wanted to write about my last week but now I've forgotten. I haven't even cried since I've been at home. I am just so happy for all my experiences, plus I know I will be going back one day, at least to visit. the transition back home has been wonderful...I feel like everyone is interested in what I have to share. I like teaching people about the little globally unimportant country of paraguay. This sunday I am going to do a presentation at church and make everyone empanadas, hopefully the first of many more to come in which I can continue sharing all the wonderful things that my time in Paraguay has given me. I probably won't write in this blog anymore. Thanks for reading.

2007-11-26T12:17:00.000-02:00

I don’t want to spend too long writing, because Peter and my new friend Kim are waiting for me outside by the pool. It’s a beautiful day in Villa Carlos Paz, in the argentine province of Cordoba. One week ago from today we were just arriving in Buenos Aries to meet up with Nate and Annette. For lunch we went to a place called Sabot, chosen purely because its name is only one letter off from our last name. As soon as we sat down, a man sidled up to us with a secret: "Usually this restaurant only serves little goat on Thursdays, but the people at the next table over ordered it. I advise that you take advantage of the chance to eat the best goat in all of Buenos Aries." It was very low-stress for me because he did all the ordering, and it turned out he was with the food and wine critic from the Buenos Aires Herald, and a man who produces fine wines in Mendoza, another province in Argentina. They shared champagne with us and the food and wine critic even gave us a free copy of his book on Argentine food and wines, which served us very well for the rest of the trip. My favourite page was the illustration of a cross section of an empanada.

Tuesday I didn’t have such luck with other people ordering for us, and I had to turn into tour guide. Remember how in May I wrote about wanting to become a storyteller? Well, my new dream is to become some kind of tour guide. I see it as a cross between a storyteller, a teacher and an entertainer, all things I like to do. We went to Recoleta cemetery where a whole bunch of rich and famous Argentines are buried, including Evita Peron, and we had a very dynamic tour guide who managed to make the cemetery a very interesting, not to mention educational, experience.

Wednesday we took the train to Mar del Plata. The train was less than half the price of a bus ticket, plus I was told later that tourists almost never take the train. The good thing is that the beach was not very crowded. The bad part was that it couldn’t even begin to compare to the beaches on the west coast of North America, and it was pretty cold while we were there.

The morning of American thanksgiving I woke up for a sunrise service (since I had never see the sunrise over the ocean, just watched it go down). It was very easy to me to be thankful, waking up in a comfortable bed, going down for a buffet breakfast and then going out to sit on the beach and read. It was a complete contrast to that evening, which we spent playing Connect Four in the mall until the security guard kicked us out, then walking in the rain and sleeping in the cold and somewhat uncomfortable train (but it cost less than $5 for a 6 hour train ride!). I chose as my Thanksgiving passage these words from Paul in Philippians: "I have learned to be content (and thankful) in whatever state I am. I know how to be abased, and I know how to abound. Everywhere and in all things I have learned both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."

Right now I am definitely in abundance here at the house of Omar and Stella Gava, at the foot of the mountains, surrounded by kind and interesting people. Yesterday they asked me to share in church about my experiences of the last year, and I was able to do it in Spanish and didn’t even look at my notes once. Then we spent until the late afternoon at a place for missionaries in training and enjoyed sweet fellowship with a dynamic group, including a Cuban couple and some folks from Chile. They were in the middle of an intensive six-week English course, and were begging us to stay and keep speaking with them.

In summary, I feel that the last week has been very helpful as I get ready to say goodbye to my friends in Paraguay and then go back home. I am super-excited about different cultures, languages, and especially about missions.

2007-11-12T20:18:00.000-02:00

My sister and I are both here in the church sanctuary using our particular creative talents; as I write my blog, she is painting a mural of a Paraguayan river scene. On Saturday we took a tour of the countryside and now she is inspired to put into paint what I am writing down (but maybe I will post some pictures too). The topography of Paraguay is quite fascinating. AS I mentioned in an earlier blog, we are actually quite close to sea level, but every once in a while, a big hump juts out of the rolling flatness. One such hump is Cerro Lambaré where we got robbed a few weeks back, another is Cerro Yaguaron. There was a rainy torment the night before, but by the following afternoon the sky was a blue as it could be for us to climb the hill and see for miles. The only thing that put a damper on our hike was the teenager with his eyes on us and following as we took out cameras to take pictures on the deserted crest of the hill. Jason and Larissa and I may have been a little paranoid due to the previous events, but thankfully the most dangerous occurrence was when Karen saw a scorpion.
At the next place we stopped, I nicknamed Oscar the Paraguayan crocodile hunter owing to his superior knowledge of flora and fauna. I like how he differentiates between animals whose poison is fatal, and other that aren’t that aren’t really “poisonous” because they don’t kill you. The boys and I were wading around in the creek trying not to get our clothes too wet, but all our prior vigilance was forgotten when Gaby and I spotted a snake in the water and were only concerned with getting out as fast as possible. Oscar taught us how to tap the spiny stem of a certain plant to make the leaves steadily fold up on hinges and so we were occupied for the next few minutes seeking bushes to tap and filming video clips. I remember how during the winter time my siblings and I would pass the time waiting for the school bus by cracking the ice in puddles if the day wasn’t too cold for it to be frozen solid, and I imagined Oscar tapping all of the plants he could find while waiting out in his yard or walking along the way to school. In this same place by the creek we also found a bright orange fluid fungus called “Jew’s ear,” which I would say looked more like a cerebrum, I stepped into a booby trap under a decomposed log, and we did a photo shot with a frog.
As the sun was dropping, we visited Ypacarai lake just outside of the city. I remember reading about how often Spanish names don’t fit with the thing they are describing, but I have never met a worse example than the so called “blessed waters.” Well, the area called San Bernardino used to be a very exclusive expensive tourist resort, noted from the country clubs and fancy hotels. Then they found out that tons of sewage and other pollutants were seeping into the lake and no one has really done anything about it. Today there are still many vacation homes, but the hotels are closing up, and Gaby said it best when he called it a lake full of poop and oil.That night I was in my glory as we back and made a campfire at Oscar and Karen’s house, and I got to roast a whole bunch of hot dogs and marshmallows for everyone and we all shared our favourite parts of the day and heard funny stories about Brandon and Gaby when they were little. It was almost as fun the next day trying to describe a marshmallow to Emi so that she could understand. I am so glad I have some people I care about here to meet my friends and especially Oscar and Karen’s family so that when I go back and I miss them, my family will understand why.

2007-11-12T19:54:00.000-02:00

On night we ate dinner at Dario and Marelene’s house. We came at six o’clock but then sat around talking for a couple hours. Meanwhile the sky was turning greyer, the wind was picking up and I was sure at any minute waterdrops would be hitting my head. FINALLY she said “why don’t we go inside and eat before there’s a big storm?” Well, the weather held out for another hour while we ate, but we decided it would be good to go and catch the bus before it started to pour. We RAN to get on the bus back to Lambaré but a fifteen minute walk still awaited us from the bus stop to my house. I would have considered taking a taxi, but we decided just to run for it, and besides I only had another five mil, half the amount it would cost us to catch another bus that would bring us only a block away from home. This is what I love about Paraguay. At the moment we were passing the next bus stop (which is not really a bus stop at all, one can hail a bus from almost any position along the street. It is convenient to not have to walk to a bus stop, but fairly inefficient because the bus sometimes stops multiple times in just a short block) …the bus came along and I had the brilliant idea of asking if we could enter for half the price. I don’t know if I would normally be so brazen, but the thing was I had been throwing up earlier that night and all that running wasn’t making the situation any better. And of course the driver let us on, so that is why I am telling our victorious story. It started pouring during the bus ride, and we still ended up getting wet anyways, but it was an adventurous evening for us and hopefully make everyone appreciate their cars at home a little bit more.

2007-11-08T16:47:00.000-02:00

Wow, just two seconds ago I put the finishing touches on the grade sheets for report cards, and now I have really completed a whole year of teaching. I remember the days when I couldn’t ever imagine making it this far, the days when I said to myself “I’m staying until Easter break and then I’m leaving” or “I just have to make it to winter vacations.” It’s a good thing I have this joy of accomplishment to even out the dread of having to leave my friends here in less than a month. Thankfully there are many things going on to celebrate and use as an excuse to spend lots of time together. Last Friday was Larissa’s birthday as well as our friend David’s, and only two days earlier David’s brother Ricardo turned 31 on the 31^st. So we had a triple birthday party and I employed my neighbour lady to make us a HUGE cake with lots of whip cream and dulce de leche inside. It was extra fun because some of Ricardo’s family came from Formosa to be at his baptism on Sunday, his brother and cousin whom I came to know when we travelled there in July during winter break. On Saturday my sister and brother-in-law arrived and I got to spend a few hours just hanging out with Karen and Edson in the airport (Anytime I get to spend with Karen now seems so precious). Ben and Vivi made us a wonderful welcome lunch, make-your-own tacos. Emi is living with them for these two weeks so my whole family can be together in my cosy little house. Like I said, there was a baptism on Sunday, with four people baptised and two new people becoming members. I was very happy to see all these young energetic people wanting to commit themselves to serving God as part of the church. All the hugs and pictures after the service, as well as being able to spend all afternoon being with everyone, just drinking térere and playing volleyball, made me feel like I am really going to miss the community here.

On Monday we had our final “Monday Missionary meeting” in which everyone said nice things about me and made me feel that I can be happy with the work I’ve done here. Then Oscar took me and my guests to the downtown. We tried to do a little bit of tourist shopping and buy a birthday present for Gaby, but we couldn’t even find an American football and Lord of the Rings III apparently hasn’t come out yet in Paraguay. We went to a mall I had not yet been to, and there was a store that had clothes from Old Navy which were from about three years ago, but still cost the same original price in American dollars. Annette said now she knows why I haven’t sent back that many souvenirs; food is cheap here, but I have always though that buying things like clothes and cars must be almost crippling when the average income is taken into account. In the end we got Gaby a soccer ball and some other little things and then made him a treasure hunt for his birthday on Tuesday. That night we ate another HUGE cake that Karen made and slept outside in the tents.

I suppose I have convinced everyone to be a missionary now, sounds pretty fun huh? I am looking forward to dinner at Dario and Marlene’s house tonight, going to the country with Oscar and Karen on Saturday, and other invitations in the coming week. Everyone here is letting me know how much they will miss me and I know they are doing some special things because I’m leaving soon, but I have to say that all year long they have been so good to me. My hope is that I am overflowing with this love and I can carry some of it back home with me.

2007-10-29T20:48:00.000-02:00

Did you know…

Paraguay and Brazil share the largest hydro-electric plant in the world?

It is called Itaipu, which means “the singing rock” in the Guarani tongue. It was built in the 70’s during the Strossner dictatorship, flooding thousands of hectares of land and relocating many people from their homes, but also promising huge economic advantages. The dam has 20 turbines, of which only one is needed to provide 95% of Paraguay’s electricity. The output from the other nine is sold to Paraguay in order to pay their debt to the Brazilian government which funded the whole project, or eaten up by government officials or others at the top of the ladder with the right connections. In some ways Itaipu is a bit of a sore spot for many Paraguayans, or at least the ones who recognize that the whole country could be greatly profiting from the dam, but because of the corruption are instead paying outrageous monthly electricity bills.

Itaipu, one of the seven wonders of the modern world, was only one of the places we visited this past weekend on a field trip ninth and tenth grade classes. We also saw Yguasu “big water” waterfalls. There is a story that Woodrow Wilson (my brother thinks it was him, may have been a different president), upon seeing these falls, remarked “poor Niagara.” It is indeed quite a sight, even with the small amount of water, because of the quantity of falls arranged in a beautiful landscape and all the big rocks and lush tropical growth. I was even more impressed by Salto Monday (pronounced mon-dai-ew, with a really nasally accent on the “ew”, meaning “neighbourhood river”), which is an extremely powerful, fast-moving waterfall, I think it said it had the most output per second of any waterfall in South America. There used to be another waterfall even higher and more powerful than Monday, but it was flooded with the building of the dam.

Two of the nights we slept on the bus, but one night we stayed at a most beautiful campground…completely free! In addition to the kitchens and BBQ spits and cabins furnished with mattresses, there was even bike riding, horseback riding and wagon rides the next morning. What made me a little sad that it was one of six nature reservations built by the Itaipu corporation, which when one thinks about the amount of money that is running through their hands, the free camping is like giving away penny candies, an obvious attempt to win favour with the people that they have hoodwinked.

Another important place is the tres fronteras, where the borders of Brazil, Argentina and Paraguay meet and each has built a large monument displaying the colours of its flag. The first day we visited the Brazilian side, well-kempt and complete with a gift shop, fancy restaurant, and special tourist photo spots. Across the river you could see the large luxurious hotels in Argentina. The second day we went to the Paraguayan landmark, and I was struck by the obvious difference in the sites, which were supposed to represent unity and friendship between the countries. The Paraguayan one didn’t even have a road leading up to it, just a path cut through the trees. I would have been nervous had I not been with such a large group, for it seemed such an abandoned place, the run-down structure with graffiti all over it. Furthermore, the stairs were falling apart and at one point would lead an unobservant visitor straight over the steep edge. But once we got down to the river, I realized that out of the three, I would choose the Paraguayan side any day. There were no touristy gimmicks to distract, and the lack of boundaries really allowed us to enjoy the beauty of the grand rivers. At the same time, it makes me sad that Paraguay really doesn’t get a lot of credit for its beauty, and the people are not benefiting from the resources with which the country has been blessed.

It was definitely a very interesting school trip…I learned a lot about political history, upcoming elections, contraband, average income, the cost of electricity, and the working hours of the ladies who sell chipa, and favourite Paraguayan snack. I only hope the students learned as much as I did.

2007-10-22T18:08:00.000-02:00

I am over at Karen and Oscar’s house, on a wonderful summer day, along with Peter and Larissa. We just finished eating lunch outside on the picnic table, and afterwards as we were cleaning up and Peter and Jason were at the table helping the boys with their homework, I remarked to Karen that her kitchen was so full of life (i.e. loud and busy).
Yesterday was also a beautiful day, and a group of young people from the church decided it would be fun to walk to a big hill called Cerro Lambaré and eat a picnic lunch at the top. As we were starting around the last bend, the three Paraguayan boys and my brother decided to be adventurous and make their way straight up through the bushes instead of by the road. One offered to carry my heavy backpack with all the pop in it, but I like practicing carrying heavy backpacks in case I go backpacking in the mountains someday, so I politely declined. A few minutes later as Emi, Larissa, Jason and I continued on, immersed in conversation, we were interrupted by a yelling guy, pointing a gun at us and demanding to hand over our cell phones. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a cell phone to satisfy him but I don’t think he believed us. The episode seemed to take a very long time, with me throwing my back pack on the ground and not knowing what else to do, but it probably took less that 3 minutes, finishing with a spiteful comment directed at Jason that ¨here in Paraguay we don’t like Yankees.¨ I ran the rest of the way to the top of the hill to tell the boys, and also found there a group of guys with motorbikes who took us on a search for the culprit, but we never found him. The police also came after awhile, but were completely ambivalent to the situation, probably knowing that this happens all the time and that the chance we would find the thief or get anything back was almost hopeless.
In the end we lost a pack back full of picnic items such as pop, cheese, sandwich meat, and ketchup, as well as Larissa’s little sister’s camera that she got for her birthday (sorry Lindsay, we’ll get you a new one), her driver’s license and credit card, and some money. Oh yes, and my house keys, so we had to saw off the lock on our house. I also lost what little trust I might have had in the Paraguayan police, and a little bit of dignity by being robbed by some little drunk kid with what was almost certainly not a real pistol, and who probably wouldn’t even be able to appreciate most of the things he stole that meant so much to us. Thankfully, I have not lost my desire to be in Paraguay, nor my freedom to be able to walk down the street without fear. There could be many regrets, things that could have been done to prevent the situation, but in the end we need to try to take the good out of the situation and learn from it, just like Auntie Annette told Larissa. I feel like yesterday was a time of bonding that we will never forget, and in the end we were able to talk about the good things we learned, and even laugh at it. Pastor Pedro came and helped us all afternoon to fill out a report at the police station, and bought us all empanadas. Haha, I forgot to write that Oscar and Karen were travelling that weekend, the first time that they had left the boys for whom I felt responsible, so that added just a little bit to the stressfulness of the situation. Anyways, I have been reminded of how important people and lives are in comparison to our possessions. I received a reminder that we need to be careful and stick together, but also that we have to trust that God is taking care of us no matter what. I was scared that Larissa’s mom was going to want her to go home or that my mom wouldn’t want us to travel anymore, but I guess our mothers are wise enough to know that no matter where one is, simply to live is to be taking a risk. Confidence in God and freedom in his promises of protection are better than fear, and living a full life is better than existing in a false security.

2007-10-16T23:24:00.000-02:00

“I’m so glad I know English.” “Rey said I look Paraguayan. Do you think that’s supposed to be a compliment or an insult.” “Man, I am so disappointed that our cake didn’t turn out.” “When is it going to start getting really hot?” I didn’t know where to start, so for the last minute I just wrote down some of Peter and Larissa’s conversation. My brother and cousin got here last Wednesday, and it still seems unreal to me. I have enjoyed all the visitors we have had over this year, but it is a special joy to share this experience with two of the people that are closest to me. Since they are staying with me until we all go home together in December, they will have had almost two months to become familiar with the Paraguayan lifestyle; I am thinking it will be nice to have other people me who understand what life is like here and with whom I can reminisce. They are both very serious about trying to pick up some Spanish while they are here and are coming along wonderfully…under my tutelage of course. It can be seen from Larissa’s first comment that studying Spanish has helped her appreciate some of the difficulties that a person might have in learning English. She is also having a great time with the communal way of life, sharing térere with all kinds of people, and she even suggested at lunch today that we all just eat our dessert out of the same bowl. Larissa already has been given a nickname by Oscar “La Risa” which means “the laugh” and it suits her well. I have spent much time in giggles for the last few days.

Peter probably looks even more Paraguayan after Saturday when he got a nice tan from spending two hours stranded in the middle of the Río Paraguay. We rented two boats for an hour for only $2, but they were probably worth about that much. Gaby had to spend most of the time bailing water with an old juice/worm container, while the rest of us battled with the oars that must have weighed about 20 lbs each. I felt bad because Karen prepared a beautiful outdoor lunch to which we arrived very late, very tired, very dirty, and very hungry!

Larissa tried to make an apple cake today and it didn’t turn out because our oven doesn’t work and she had to cook it in a heavy metal pot. Other than that, Peter and Larissa think all the food here is excellent, and are excited about pretty much everything we do. I like having them here, as well as Jason, just to hear the exclamations “Oh what a cool-looking house!” “what a yummy cookie!” “what a beautiful plant!” (usually it’s Jason saying that) or Larissa “what a nice street! It doesn’t have any garbage in it!” Everything is new and exciting again.

2007-10-02T20:56:00.000-02:00

I am two days short of having spent an entire year in Paraguay. I almost forgot to write that I attended the third wedding during my time here over the weekend. This time it was a young girl studying to be a lawyer and a guy from Argentina who hasn’t had a “real” job since I’ve known him, but I wouldn’t exactly say he is lazy or anything. (Perhaps being in Paraguay has changed my perception of laziness?) David plays guitar really well and I got to know him being in the music group at church, but I also traveled with them to his home during vacations in July and it was during that time we became pretty close friends.

The ceremony and reception were both at the church, and it was wonderfully decorated for that night, especially outside. Well, it wasn’t exactly the latest fashion, but the green looked nice with the trees and the weather was perfect. I received an invitation about a month ago with my name on it and everything, but I am pretty sure that it didn’t matter much if someone had one of those or not. The delicious chicken meal was prepared by the myriads of relatives that were staying at the bride’s parents’ house during the week. It was a little sad because there were so many people there that half of them missed the entire ceremony because of transportation difficulties. Three of David’s brothers couldn’t even come because they had to stay home and take care of the pigs and their little neighbourhood store. So when I feel sad because I can’t be with my family, I sometimes think about people here who even though they live relatively near to each other, they don’t get to see each other that much.

The bad part about having another wedding is that people are always asking and teasing me about getting married. Popular sayings are “you’re going to invite me to your wedding right?” and often they will add on to that “…and pay for the plane ticket?” I am sometimes hesistant to wear makeup or do my hair nice to go to school or church, because the girls will say I am trying to impress someone. The name for a bridal shower is goodbye to the single girl, and so one lady said that at my goodbye party we’ll also have to have a despedida de soltera, since they are so certain I will find a husband as soon as I get back. Many times when people are praying for young people or teenagers, they will confess the knowledge that God is preparing a special person for them and then pray for the future spouse. I think it would be really hard to choose to remain single here, even harder than it is in North America. Well, I know they are just doing it because they love me and for a little bit of fun, but like I said, I’ve just about made it a year here quite successfully, so I guess the joke’s on them!

2007-10-01T14:06:00.000-02:00

In first grade we just finished learning about different foods in English, and now we are taking on the word ¨favourite.¨ By way of introduction, the class asked Jason what his favourite food is, and he replied ¨taco salad.¨ Fortunately, I had already taught them the word ¨salad.¨ Unfortunately, ¨taco¨ is also a word in Spanish, and it means the heel of a shoe. So I’m pretty sure all the first graders think our new missionary likes to eat shoe salad.

2007-09-27T20:36:00.000-02:00

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 Paraguay from his blog (I’ll ask him for permission to put the address up later). He came with me to some classes today, and the whole time I couldn’t help but think that he must be wondering why he came here in the first place. The good thing is that he seems to have a really strong calling, and desires to be here because he knows this is where God has placed him. Now I just need to remember that I have that same call and need to finish strong, so as to live up to my nickname in a figurative sense.

2007-09-24T16:49:00.000-02:00

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 Soviet Union broke apart. He orbited the earth in the Mir space station for 10 months, double the planned length of his mission, because people had more important things to worry about than him. When a replacement finally came, he returned as a citizen of Russia, and the name of his hometown Leningrad had been changed to St. Petersburg. Plus his leg muscles had atrophied to the point of not being able to walk after so much time in a zero gravity environment. Granted, I have been living at a fairly low-altitude (80% of Paraguay is less than 300m above sea level), but I think my red blood cell count will be able to adjust fairly quickly to Alberta. I am more worried about things like leaving my very simple life style, and wondering if I will ever see my friends from here again. I remember when I went to Bible college in the middle of Saskatchewan, the most deserted place on earth as far as I’m concerned. I literally got sick at the sight of all the big shopping centers driving into to the city after being away for just four months. I have never gone hungry here by any means, but I can see myself being overwhelmed by food when I get back. Do you have any idea how special it seems to me to have ice cream in the freezer any time you want it? Or a microwave? Thankfully, I assume I will easily be able to adjust to not having to wake up at 5:30!

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 Paraguay. When I come home everyone needs to make sure to invite me over a lot so I don’t get sad, or else I will just show up clapping at your gate like they do here.

P.S. My parents got a cat and they named it Michi. This is what they call cats in Paraguay, even though it’s not really a name, nor does it mean cat or anything, it is just a way of calling a cat. Just one small example or a change I can expect upon going back home. This is weird: Here, if you want to shoo away an animal, you make a kissing sound, which is how an animal would be beckoned in the States or Canada.

2007-09-20T19:49:00.000-02:00

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 South America since April with only a backpack full of clothes, her visa card, and a Lonely Planet Guidebook. It took me months to be able to ask directions from people in the street or feel confident ordering food, but she has been alone for the majority of five months doing just that after only one semester of beginner’s Spanish. Her older sister Tessa joined her a few weeks ago, and I still think it is a miracle that they were able to find me having only the names of two intersecting streets. Actually, I was walking back with my roommate from the grocery store on Sunday night and I just heard someone without an English accent yell my name from a taxi. They are already on their way to southern Argentina to go whale- watching, but we spent two really great days together. They oohed and awed over the Kraft Dinner and French toast meals I made for them, and even learned to like instant coffee! I let them sleep until 9:30 everyday, which I could see they really needed the rest after all that travelling. I taught them how to drink tereré, a few words in Guarani, and recounted some Paraguayan history. I talked the whole time about how great my church and all the people in it are, which is why I am able not just to survive here but be happy. I think the best part of their stay was the last night when we had dinner at Pastor Pedro and his wife Mary’s house. Tennille’s guidebook says that the real treasure in Paraguay is the people, and I think this proved true as we were able to sit down and share a meal with the family. I know I taught Tennille well, because as we were about to leave the girl mentioned that she liked the pin Tennille was wearing, and immediately she took it off and gave it to the little girl, who was ecstatic.

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 North America through new eyes. I hope I can be a traveler and retain this sense of wonder for the rest of my life no matter where I am. Like the song says “this world is not my home, I’m just a passin’ through…”

2007-09-13T20:14:00.000-02:00

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 Paraguay, and I hope all of you keep reading. By the way, the construction is fabulously along on its way. Until next week….

2007-09-03T14:01:00.000-02:00

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.

2007-09-03T13:56:00.000-02:00

Last week I visited a local public high school that has night classes for people that work during the day. They only have English class once a week, taught by a Paraguayan teacher who spelled John “Jonh.” I have been invited to come tomorrow and teach them a song in english, I am considering “He’s got the whole world in his hands.” A guy from our church teaches ethics him and though him a lot of the students have heard the gospel message and also become connected with our church. When they were convering the topic of addictions, our friend Adilson who spent 7 years going in and out of prison, shared his testimony with the class. Upon arriving he recognized a face and the two guys proceded to have a conversation in Guarani. Later when I asked who it was, Adilson replied “oh, I stabbed his brother and almost killed him.” It was amazing to witness the reconciliation that had taken place! We also invited the kids to come to our youth camp in the beginning of October. One thing I love about how in Paraguay people are so open to hearing testimonies and getting to know people, because the whole culture is based on relationships. Who knows, people may have eaten the carrots just to show that they liked me and didn’t want to offend me.

2007-08-27T19:40:00.000-02:00

Yesterday I was looking at some of the pictures and video clips that the Canadian girls took, and while watching a video clip traditional Paraguayan dancer with a bottle on her head, I suddenly remembered that I live in a very interesting foreign country. It was fun to play tourist a bit with the guests, to show off my newly-found translating abilities and try to find my way around town on a bus (I only got us lost one time). On the holiday we went to a fellow teacher’s house in the country and I learned how to cut and peal sugar cane. The most memorable part of that day for me was listening to her brother and cousin, who are professional musicians, serenade us in the church that was built by her family. It definitely was an experience inhabiting my somewhat small house with four other girls and their suitcases, but the Tim Horton’s coffee and the joy they brought me made up for any inconveniences there might have been. They also brought a whole bunch of very useful items for our library and English teaching department, which gets me excited to keep on teaching for the last 10 or so weeks left of school. I also just want to say that to anyone who thinks I talk a lot, I recognize that now as a gift from God, perhaps endowed upon me specifically to survive the last two weeks of my life. When we went to a meal at someone’s house, which we did for six days in a row, I had to do the talking for every person that was at the table, in addition to adding my own comments, which are numerous. But not today, I only have one more thing to say, which is that we are starting the construction for the new school building this week! It is a miracle that we actually met our goal of being able to start in August and I am so happy. It might be slow-going at first, but hopefully there will be at least two or three usable classrooms before the next school year starts in February. If you would like to contribute to the project, you can send money to the Apostolic Christian Foundation, 1135 Sholey Rd, Richmond, VA 23231, marked for the Paraguay School Building. I know I wrote this before, but someone asked for it again, and so I thought I may as well remind everyone. Then we´ll get it done even faster!

2007-08-17T19:42:00.001-02:00

Hi, I have no time to write my blog because I am too busy being with my North American visitors. This morning we were talking about the things they learned in Paraguay, and I hope they don’t mind if I write some of those things here in my own words. Kathy Sulja said she admired the unity of the church people here. J.C. learned that sometimes it’s important to give up some of your “rights” and just be humble. Although she has never considered teaching as a possible career before, Elysha has realized that it could be where God is leading her (maybe teaching in Paraguay!). The other tall Kathy talked about depending on God’s power and not her own plans (probably because things are so unpredictable here sometimes). Bianca noted the strong presence of God’s spirit at our prayer meeting on Wednesday night. I think out of everyone, Jason has been the most affected by his time in Paraguay. He has thought lot about the possibility of returning and he almost cried when my fourth-grade class in the morning sang a farewell song to him. I keep thanking God that I have such wonderful guests who never complain about anything…well, until a little bit today when it suddenly turned cold again. We are all huddled in my house drinking tea as I write this today. I became quite sentimental washing the lunch dishes today. My house was so full and loud and I had to use every dish and spoon that was in the house. I guess then I’ll say I’ve experienced what a blessing it is to have company, even in my house where I only have 7 forks and we have to share glasses and use Rubbermaid bins as chairs. I do have to say though, that I am really glad that tomorrow is Saturday and we’re going to lunch at Karen’s house! It is sad as well, because the boys will be leaving. Before they leave though, we are going to prepare a bilingual Bible trivia game for church tomorrow night…I’m going to go do that right now!

2007-08-10T21:15:00.000-02:00

“Time flies like an arrow; fruit flies like a banana.”

Obviously that pun doesn’t work in Spanish, but it’s true that time really has flown by (osorry for not writing in my blog for so long). I can’t believe Jason and J.C., our two visitors from Virginia have already passed almost half of their stay here, and the four Canadian women are coming on Sunday. I have been having a good time dragging the boys around with me, to classes, to the top of Cerro Lambaré, to the place with the best empanadas, to the Hippie plaza and the place where all the Paraguayan political “heroes” are buried, and of course to my favourite stop, the supermarket. This week I made Jason dress up as a snowman with a real carrot nose, and I made J.C. teach the Barney clean-up song to the kindergarten class. I even made them do a bunch of my grading. In return for forcing them to walk long distances and embarrassing them in front of the students, I have shared a lot of my knowledge about Paraguayan culture and history. One day, just for the experience, I left Jason to drink tereré with some guys and fend on his own. I am really impressed with their language skills, and already thinking what a blessing it will be to have them help translate next week for the Canadians.

I was not disappointed at all in my expectation that they would be shocked at the pandemonic state of my classes. In spite of some frustrations experienced by J.C., during which a fourth grade girl came up to me and said “I think J.C. is getting a little angry” (haha, I can write whatever I want about him, he doesn’t read my blog), the classes this week were pretty fun and I feel like the kids have gotten a lot of exposure to the language. I love when we sing for them, even if it is just “happy birthday” or a Sharon, Lois and Bram song…sometimes my voice is weak from speaking so much, but with all of us together we fill the room and it is so happy. Jason is fairly convinced that his job as a computer programmer is meaningless in comparison and they are figuring out how much money he needs to save up to be able to come and live here. Overall, I think the boys’ greatest victory with the kids here has been goaltending for soccer and handball games.

I know I don’t have a lot of time left here, but if anyone reads this and gets inspired to visit, we’d love to have you! (Karen and Oscar too. I know I have wrote this a million times before, but I just think they are such a great, hospitable family). I admit that before I didn’t have the highest view of short term mission trips, after all, wouldn’t it be more effective to give $1500 instead of buying a plane ticket? But I have already been encouraged by my visitors, and I know that after spending less than a week here, Paraguay has already made its mark on them. I’m trying to do the best I can for all you who aren’t able to come for yourselves to experience Paraguay through my eyes.

2007-08-01T23:41:00.000-02:00

A man was well-known in his neighbourhood for his obsession with widlife. His house was full of paintings which he himself had created, as well as piles of books and magazines all on the topic of animals. He TV was constantly programmed to the nature channel.
One day this man decided to fix the sidewalk leading up to his house. He mixed the cement and carfeully filled between the boards he had laid. But when he returned an hour later to see how it was drying, he cuaght the neighbour's sog making paw prints in his fresh new sidewalk! He chased the dog away and then re-poured the concrete. He went inside, and came out later, only to find that the dog had stepped in the cement again. The man angrily fixed the marred cement and stomped inside. The next time he came out, the dog had of course messed up the work again. The man grabbed his shotgun and killed the dog in a fit of rage! The owner of the dog heard the shot and came out to see what had happened. He said, "I can't believe that you just killed my dog! I thought you were an animal lover!" "I do love animals!" replied the man, "It's just that I only like them in the abstract, not in the concrete!"
This was one of the funniest jokes I ever heard in a sermon, delivered by my cousin Ed. I honestly can't remember what the sermon was about, but this joke resonates in me. I think it might be because, like the man, I really do love looking at animals and learning about them, but I don't like having to touch them or take care of them, or put up with poop in the yard. Anyways, I got an email from my mom this week informing me that our family dog died. I cried a little bit for Toffee, after all, I had known this dog for almost half of my life, and she really was a fabulous pet. I can't imagine that we will ever find someone to replace her. If someone asked me "do you like dogs?" I would have to say that I loved Toffee and she was like a friend to me the times when I paid attention to her, such as while waiting for the school bus or going on walks, but I can't speak for all the rest of the dogs. I think it would be very hard to care about dogs in general if one lived in Paraguay. The stray dogs are especially pathetic, just moping around, looking for some trash to scrunge through, and they never bark at you or even turn their head. For that reason it is also a good place to get over your fear of dogs. people might think that from readint his that I have nothing exciting happening in my life to write about , bt it's not true. I actually have a lot, so much so that I feel stressed out, and so I write about dogs to be more relaxed. Last night the internet place I usually go to, two blocks away from my house got robbed just minutes before I passed by there with Rey and Emi. I admit I do feel a little less secure now, and i can see why some of the people are so paranoid if they hear stories like this happening all the time in their neighbourhood, people getting stabbed for their sneakers or cellphone. When Emi's cellphone got robbed last month, she didn't even bother reporting it to the police because apparently they can't/don't do anything. Yesterday morning a shipment of one million american dollars came into the asuncion ariport for some buisnessman here, and 5 men got away with it. It seems to me like the police really should have been able to aprehend the robbers, but I guess I am thinking very north americanish now. Just so everyone knows, it had to have been at least 23 degrees or so here today in the middle of winter. We had the fans going in the classroooms. Everyone is really hoping it will rain soon. I don't think it looks dry at all, but there is a saying in Guarani about how in August the cows always get really skinny for lack of rain.
The theme of this blog entry will be compassion. I don't have to love animals, but I want to feel compassion for them and help them live well. I feel very compassionate towards all the victims of the crimes that happen and there is no insurance and no one the provide justice. I also feel sorry for the poor paraguayan farmers and the skinny cows.

2007-07-24T13:23:00.000-02:00

Well, vacations are officially over and the weather turned a little cold again, but I am still enthusiastic, rejoicing over the wonderful two weeks I had, and looking forward to the return of Ocsar and Karen and Ben and Vivi. Plus we are expecting many north American visitors during the month of August, so I’m glad for all the Spanish practice I’ve had and anticipating translation practice. One compliment I learned here that I want to start using in English is sos percha “you’re a hanger” i.e. “you look good in anything.” I heard someone use that once on Ben.
I’ve made two interesting language discoveries lately: A common way of saying you’ve done something in vain is to do en balde literally“in bucket” and changing the preposition to “of” or “from bucket” de balde means “for nothing.” Thus, when I went to Argentina and we had to wash from a bucket, we were literally bathing in vain!
Second observation: the common word for wedding or marriage is “casamiento,” in which I only recently noticed the root casa “house” and so I guess it means something like a house-making? I joked that my friends Carolina and Alcildes didn’t really have a casamiento last month, because after getting married they moved into her bedroom in her dad’s house…they had a pieza-miento, a room-making!
My highlight of the weekend was playing Trivial Pursuit. I proudly announced that the game was invented by Canadians. This is obvious when playing the English version due to the over-proportionate amount of obscure Canadian political and historical facts, like who was Samuel D. Champlain or who was the eighth premier of Saskatchewan? Maybe Canadians won’t know the answer to the latter, but at least we know what a premier is and where Saskatchewan is located. My biggest challenges in the Paraguayan version were questions likes “how do you say dance in Guarani” (it’s jeroky) or chronologically who was the first Paraguayan poet? I had a lucky guess on which South American country produces the most salt (Chile, lots of coastline!) and I learned that Beethoven’s 9th, symphony, otherwise known as “Ode to Joy,” is the only coral symphony.
The picture is some of the friends I made at camp in Argentina.

2007-07-19T12:15:00.001-02:00

I meant to title the last entry “ask and it will be given to you.” I think this verse is just as well-known and oft-quoted in North America, but the people here probably have a lot better understanding of it and take it more seriously. I have to admit I don’t know if the “unconstrained generosity” is a phenomenon of the Paraguayan culture in general or just among the church people, but since they themselves give freely, they see this same character trait in God. It is obvious in the way they speak and pray that when they ask something of God, they expect to get it, no matter how outrageous the request may seem to me. They have no fear in asking, and have complete confidence that God will give the very best, because that is also what they would do.

2007-07-17T13:19:00.000-02:00

I just got back from church camp in Argentina. Oscar and Karen and their boys, Ben and Vivi were also attending camp, but in Washington with my friends and family, so I was glad to have something else to occupy my mind and keep me from being too nostalgic. I almost didn’t go for threat of the cold, but we were blessed with four sunny days, and I was blessed to share a small bed with Maria to keep me warm during four cold nights!I think I am in for a real shock when I go home, because even a trip to Argentina shows Paraguay in a pretty bad state of being. As soon as you cross the border, everything gets cleaner and nicer. The form of speaking is more melodic and smooth, and the people wear nicer clothes! One difference that I really appreciated was hearing four-part harmony at our camp meetings. Poor little Paraguay doesn't seem to have much of a chance in comparison. One night we watched the final of "Copa America" the classic game between Brazil and Argentina, and Marcelo, a Paraguayan, confessed to me that he hoped Brazil would win because he didn't know if he could stand the Argentineans' pride afterwards. They lost 3-0 so we didn't have to put up with any gloating and took a night walk downtown to the river where you could look across to Paraguay. It was very beautiful, but it was still in South America. The camp was at a school where everyone slept spread out on the floor in classrooms, there was only one cold shower and 5 out of 7 toilets didn't work in the women's bathroom. But I was a celebrity! I have to admit I am almost tired of speaking English, or at least the phrases "how are you?" and "good morning." I got three invitations to come to different parts of the country and teach English. I had no idea there were so many AC churches in Argentina. Also, greetings to the Pavkovs who know people in Argentina, and the Kovacs in Kitchener. When we were not at camp, I stayed at the house of David, who is engaged to my friend Maria from Lambaré. In his family there are nine boys and only one girl, and all the boys still live on the farm together, even the two married ones with families. David's mom confessed to me that she is worried for the six sons between the ages of 21 and 35 who aren't married yet. Perhaps partly for this reason, I was treated grandly and am invited back anytime! I would like to visit again, especially for the evangelistic campaign we are going to have in August there, but I know now that my heart is committed to Paraguay because of how I missed it. Even though the roads are bad and I don't care for the popular music and customer service is at an all time low, I have fallen into unreasonable and unexplainable love.I am afraid to write about this next topic for fear that my readers will not understand and be offended like I used to be, but this phrase keeps going through my mind since I heard it 3 days ago and if I don’t write about it I feel like I will burst: "If I have it, I give it." These words, even simpler in Spanish, were uttered by the wife of one of the married brothers in reference to an herb that someone was looking to add to her mate, but it could very well include material possession, all you have to do is ask. For example, this weekend a girl asked me for my jeans because she liked them, and when they didn't fit, she asked for a shirt, any one of my shirts so she could remember me. Another guy asked me for my sweatshirt because he liked it. He was the fourth person to ask me for this particular sweatshirt, but I haven't given it away, reasoning that I only have two sweatshirts and if it gets cold again, what will I do? But this mindset is not shared by the people here, and I am slowly beginning to understand. They don't think about caring for themselves in the future, they think about having good relationships right now. From now on, I am going to be complimented when someone likes my stuff or when they want something to remember me by. Often North American visitors will leave without their watch or their running shoes. Marcelo, who I am sure has a lot less stuff than I do, gave away a jacket and a toque this weekend, even though it might get cold again and he doesn't have a replacement. Maybe his plan is just to ask someone else for one! I think one reason why I am so affected is that I didn't exchange enough money, and instead of worrying about who would pay back who or exchanging with me for Guaranies, everyone just shared and the group took care of me. Don't worry, I am not taking advantage of them, in the end I gave people money, but the point is that no one asked or expected me to pay them back, they just gave. I think I used to be very discriminating in my giving, and taking into account the economic state of the person I was giving to or their ability to return the favour. I think here people just give and they enjoy it and they love the person they are giving to. I would love to experiment with this when I go back home and ask people for stuff and see what happens. I might need to too, since I am all pumped up now about giving away my stuff!

2007-07-12T11:43:00.001-02:00

All the events of my life for the past week or so are tied together by the common thread that I was freezing cold for the duration of all of them. There is no respite from the cold here except being in a store or riding in a car, things I do with little frequency. I think I used to have a somewhat romantic notion of the poor people here; when you see the women outside washing clothes in the sunshine and the kids playing soccer barefoot on the warm earth, they look free and happy. Yesterday when I saw the kids playing outside barefoot it just made me sink further into my layers of clothing. A lady at church told me that it has never been like this before, and usually winter consists of maybe two or three days of cold. Which is actually no consolation to me, since this is the only winter in Paraguay that I know. But it is obvious to me that this is not normal, or they would have started building houses and wearing clothes better suited to survive this cold. Today I am leaving for church camp in Formosa, Argentina, where it is NOT uncommon to have cold, rainy weather. I am really scared of spending 4 days just suffering from the cold and not being able to sleep or shower.
I remember returning home from college 4 years ago in April and just when we thought it might start to warm up, there would be another snowfall and cold spell. I was almost depressed after more than 6 months of white ground, and I had to take hope from God’s promise to know (better than the rainbow one as far as I’m concerned) that there would ALWAYS be a change in seasons: seedtime and harvest, cold and heat, summer and winter, day and night, so I didn’t have to worry that it would stay winter forever. The great thing about Paraguay is that hope is always in sight. As soon as a tree looses its leaves, there are immediately new green buds pushing through. Yesterday, which I think was the coldest day of the year, I was still able to sit outside with the strong morning sunshine warming my face. I will never be able to complain about weather again, hot or cold, humid or rainy. I will just have to be thankful for such things as indoor heating, thermo fleece, and air conditioning.

2007-07-02T18:20:00.000-02:00

Even though I haven’t written an entry for awhile, and no one knows what I’ve been up to for two weeks, I am just going to focus on yesterday. I went with Pastor Pedro and two of his kids to a sister church /outreach in Bañado, which means “bathed.” Contrary to the luxurious images this name may invoke, it is a dirty and uncomfortable part of town. The houses, sometimes just a collage of cardboard and metal, are meant to be impermanent due to the occasional flooding by a river which in this part of town resembles a garbage pit/sewage mixture. Even though that morning I was sufficiently cold to wear two sweaters and leave my winter jacket on during the service, I noticed that most people in attendance only had a sweater. One man was wearing only one flip flop, only one being necessary because the other leg just had a big round nub on the end of it in place of a foot. The service was on giving the best of ourselves and all we have to God, and I couldn’t help but be reminded of the poor widow who gave her last few cents as we went forward to give our offerings.
There were less than 30 people there for the sermon, but when it came time for me to teach the Sunday School class afterwards, I think there must have been near 70 or 80 kids. They tell me that just like the poor farmers on the banana island, here too every household has 5 or 6 kids. It is really easy to do children’s ministries in places like this, or I should say, it is easy to get lots of kids to show up if you have some sandwiches or a bag of candy. I told an embellished Paraguayan version of Jesus’ parable in Matthew 14 about a man who finds a treasure in a field, and in his joy goes out and sells everything he has to buy the field. In my adaptation, the man owned a hat, a coal cooking stove (which he sold for 15,000Gs, or $3), a bed, a cow, and a little house., and the treasure that he found had been buried by Francisco Lopez (see my blog entry from May). Of course, the greatest treasure we can seek cannot be put in a box and locked up; Jesus uses the hidden treasure as an illustration of the kingdom of heaven. When someone encounters this treasure, he or she will gladly give up whatever it takes to live a life of peace, love and service to others. That is why I try to be happy and not feel sorry for myself even when my family is all together on vacation at the beach.
The remainder of Sunday I celebrated Canada’s 140th birthday with the Elliots, my favourite Canadian family in Paraguay. The kids made pretend fireworks, we sang the national anthem, we quizzed each other on Canadian trivia and took advantage of the nice weather by going to the park with the kids. I knew that the Quebec Act was signed in 1774, but I didn’t know what purpose it served. Lane had me read an article on the Timbit as a national symbol. We watched the first episode of “Little House on the Prairie” although in hindsight I guess “Anne of Green Gables” would have been more fitting for the date. It was probably the most celebrating I have ever done for Canada Day, ironically in a country that barely recognizes Canada’s existence. The Elliots like being famous in my blog. Lane showed me some fascinating Paraguayan statistics. I forgot the sheet at their house but I will write the ones I remember and maybe Lane can correct me if he reads this. Percentages of Paraguayans that have:
a car 24%
a freezer 70%
a TV 74%
a cell phone 36%
internet in their house 1.4%
I guess I only have one of the above mentioned, and even then our refrigerator is about 2 steps away from the old appliance grave, but I do have a computer to write my blog!

2007-06-16T17:26:00.000-02:00

I think if you read my blog from last week, Ben´s blog from Sunday, march 11, and Karen´s from Monday, May 21, you would be able to see why we work so well together. But honestly, I can´t even remember ever discussing money together.

2007-06-16T17:06:00.001-02:00

I always remember how before I came, Ben told me about how one of his students accidentally said he was from another world instead of another country, and how for a Paraguayan it was not such an inappropriate error because of their lack of contact with other nations. You see, for many years Paraguay was closed to the rest of the world due to political reasons, and besides the landscape makes it somewhat impenetrable. To counteract this isolationism, we had a missions week at the school where every class chose a country, learned its capital, what percentage of the population is Christian or Muslim, looked for recipes, etc. It culminated last night with an international festival. Everyone made foods from their chosen country to sell, kids were dressed in traditional clothes, each class presented its respective country and prayer requests, and there was a strong focus on missions. I thought it was very fun, the kids learned about countries they probably didn’t even know existed (kindergarten kids and Morocco, grade four and Turkey), and the money that was raised will go towards a school project. I think the international flavour of Colegio Adonai is one thing that makes our school really special. It is good for the kids not only to be taught to learn about and pray for other nations, but to have contact with other cultures every day at school. One of my goals in coming here was for people to see that Christianity is much bigger than just the Paraguayan version, and that the Gospel is applicable in any culture. Unfortunately, just last year grade 4 did Canada, so no one repeated it this year. Although I don’t know how much help I would have been since I think our most traditional food is donuts and I have no idea what’s going on in politics right now.

2007-06-16T17:04:00.000-02:00

Update on Rueben:
I knew that paying him 10 mil (10,000Gs) was way too much, now I will never be able to leave the grocery store alone in peace. He insisted on carrying my bags even though I only had 3,000 to give him. In the end I was glad though, because I didn’t have to walk home in the dark and because he was really chatty this time and now I feel like we are almost friends. He lives close to another much bigger grocery store farther down the street, but he couldn’t apply for a job there because he doesn’t have an address. I didn’t understand at first that his mom had died, because he used a euphemism with which I was not familiar (but now I know, so as to not pass through that awkwardness again). Now he lives with his dad, his aunt and 5 other brothers and sisters. And it turns out I was right in being suspect of his wage; he doesn’t really make 10 or 12 dollars per shift, that is the maximum. He admitted to me that sometimes he works 6 hours and makes less than a dollar. But before you start feeling sorry for Rueben, know that he is saving up to buy a new cell phone. He has one now, but he wants a fancier one with a camera and then he can take pictures of his girlfriend.
This week I re-read the diary of Anne Frank. It is almost eerie how utterly complete the work is in and of itself, how the plot moves along with such force, and how perfect in foreshadowing and timing it is. It gives me shivers to read about Anne wanting to be more than just a housewife, to be a writer and live on after her death, and then to think about how those wishes were fulfilled. It just goes to show that we cannot really improve on the drama of daily life, even if it is just eight people stuck in a secret hiding place with nothing to do but read books, reiterate their political opinions and fight over butter rations. I couldn’t help making comparisons to my blog, which is also a narrative and commentary on daily life. I apologize for not having such humorsly annoying characters or an idealized romatic relationship; I suppose my comic Mrs. Van Daan is the way I make fun of Paraguayan inefficiency. Like Anne, I am the most happy when I can be outside on a beautiful day and am also very concerned with self-improvement. However (in the spirit of diary sharing), my personal entry on January 16, 2007 states that “If I have a story to tell, I will not be the hero.” I then write about my intention to be an honest observer, and hopefully the heroes that emerge will be “the people I meet, the buildings, the streets, the dogs…” and all the other things here that make daily life such an adventure. I am definitely looking forward to the time when I will back home and back to “normal,” but there are certain “Peters” I have developed here…NO, I’m not talking about boys to cuddle with, but those things that make my life here very satisfying and comfortable and I am going to miss very much. Two of those things will be Ben and Karen my fellow north Americans, and here are the links to their blogs:
http://karen-lifeinparaguay.blogspot.com
http://suddenlysenor.blogspot.com

2007-06-11T10:55:00.000-02:00

One of the very first things I noticed about Paraguay is that it is a very service-oriented society. Even though upon arrival I only had two pieces of luggage, and two other people to help me besides, the guys at the airport insisted on carrying it for me. Of course you have to give them a tip after, but to refuse the service would be somewhat of a cultural blunder.
Up until earlier this week, however, I have opted against soliciting the help of a bag boy at the supermarket to help carry my groceries. Due to my obsession with effciency, probably even more than most other North Americans, I usually run to the supermarket, stuff my backpack with food, and if it isn’t too heavy, then I trot home too. Having a bag boy along would slow me down a lot. Usually I don’t have that much, because I go at least two or three times a week. This way I can buy my vegetables on Tuesdays when there is a 20% discount, and meat on Thursdays at a 10% discount. Everything from the bakery is 20% off on Wednesdays, but it’s not worth the pain because even if I bought a huge bag of bread, it’s so cheap and at most I would only save less than ten cents. Besides, I really like to have fresh bread, no more than 2 days old. And if it lasts longer than that, I buy fresh bread and make croutons out of the old! Maybe everyone thinks I am cheap, but I have to do something, since coupons don’t exist here and I don’t have the option of doing comparison shopping.
Returning to the former topic, another problem with the bag boys is the way some of them put the tomatoes on the bottom of the bag, underneath something heavy like a can of peas! Or when they stick ground beef and lettuce in the same bag. You’d think if someone bagged groceries for a living, they would think about stuff like that. So I don’t want to give a tip to someone who can’t even do their job competently. But I suppose the main reason is that I would have to walk 11 blocks in uncomfortable silence, or I would have to make small-talk with a stranger, not to mention some 15-year-old boy who would probably not understand me or make fun of my accent.
Last week I went to pick mandarin oranges at the neighbours’. I spent about 40 minutes there, playing with the kids, constructing a long stick with a hook on for getting the ones high up, and picking oranges between conversations, but when I was ready to go, the lady seemed to want me to stay longer. I gave the excuse that I was going to the supermarket, which was true, but on my way I felt convicted, knowing I could have passed another hour at her house and still fit in everything that I had to do that day. Jesus would have fit well into Paraguayan society. He always had time to sit and talk to a woman at a well, get up and preach an impromptu sermon, go to a synagogue leader’s house to heal his daughter. I read an article in Christianity Today, almost humorous, about how Jesus’ seemed to not really have any plan other than eventually get to Jerusalem and be killed. “Let’s cross over to the other side of the lake” “You give them something to eat” “What do you want me to do for you?” His life lessons popped out of things he observed as he wandered around “Look at the flowers of the field” “Let the children come to me” “The kingdom of God is like a mustard seed.” I had a friend in college that used to stand in the longest line at the grocery store in order to start a conversation with the person waiting in front of him, and he wasn’t even a very outgoing person. If you’re trying to model your life after Christ, you’re better off not planning too much and taking provisions for the journey, and better to stay up all night praying than get some shut-eye even if you have an important meeting the next day.
I made a deal with my heavy conscience that if help was offered me, I would take him up on it. Oh, I forgot to say another reason why I was thinking of the bag boys is that I heard they don’t actually get a salary, just the money they make from tips, so I thought maybe I should start letting them help me so they could make money, plus I could find out if this was actually true. Here is a summary of my 11-block conversation with Rueben the bag boy from Stock Supermercado on Cacique Lambaré:
-15-old-boy, goes to school in the mornings and works 6 hours every day after school and on weekends too (that’s a high school student with a 42 hour workweek)
-thinks he has a great job, likes his coworkers, doesn’t have a salary but sometimes he gets free food at work
-the farthest he ever had to walk was 7 blocks with an old woman. I made him count how many blocks it was to my house. He said 11 but I have the suspicion he was just guessing
-I also have a hard time believing that he makes 10 to 12 dollars per shift, which means he would be making over $3600 per year, more than a full-time teacher at our school who works about 3 hours more per week, and over double the average income in Paraguay which according to a 2004 Encyclopedia is $1,570. (Although I am sure it is actually a lot lower than that, considering the 75% of the population who make less than minimum wage because it’s not enforced.)
-the best tippers are middle-aged men, but Rueben informed me that the ones who need help most often are the other señoritas “like yourself” (My theory from my waitressing days is that men tip more because they don’t have purses to put the change in and change in the pockets is annoying)
-usually him and his coworkers tell each other how much they make in tips. He tries to be in the lines of people who he knows give good tips and gives them better service. Sometimes he likes to keep a secret of a good tipper to himself so he can be the first to offer to carry their bags. I had no idea how much to give him, but I was scared to give him too much since he told me he was almost certainly going to tell the others the amount, and I didn’t want them to be too anxious to help me next time.
-sometimes people give him food as part of the tip. I hadn’t bought any snack foods, but I offered him mandarin oranges, which he refused.
-I gave him 10,000Gs ($2). Later Emi told me that half of that would have been a generous tip. I justified it by thinking at least now I know how many blocks it is to the super and to pay him for all the information he shared with me. Plus all I had was the 10 mil or 3 bills worth one mil each, which seemed too little for a boy supposedly making almost 10 mil an hour.
-Rueben has never had someone ask him so many questions in his life. I wanted him to be very happy and say “si gracias!” when I handed him the money and asked if it was suficiente. He responded with an ambivalent “I don’t know.” Maybe after all the talk about money he was expecting a new car or something. Maybe he was confused and just wanted to get back to work. As for me, I went in my house and giggled as I put away the groceries, folded the bags just how Emi likes them, and thought about writing this in my blog.

2007-06-02T16:27:00.001-02:00

I wrote a poem about my house last week. I am not going to post here because I think it could possibly be read it as a long list of complaints, and really I love my house and am very comfortable here. However, I don’t think a visitor would necessarily be comfortable, because in order to get along well with my house you have to know her tricks. For example, if you leave the fridge plugged in for more than 7 hours on a chilly day, it will freeze your lettuce. And if the day is really cold, I wouldn’t leave it more than 4. I wrote in my last entry that our shower doesn’t have hot water, but that was before I learned the trick. The neighbourhood handyman demonstrated to me that the faucet needs to be turned just so, and you knows it’s at the right place when the light dims a little because the shower is using electricity to heat the water then. I tried showing it to my roommate, but wasn’t quite sure of exactly how to find the sweet spot. Her concern was “what if you need to take a shower and you’re in a hurry?”
Anyways, I’m glad I wrote about having a cold shower in my blog, because Lane and Sheri Elliot, fellow Albertans serving as missionaries in my very city, read it and kindly invited me over to their house to take a hot shower. You always hear about how when Bolivians or Hondurans run into each other in a foreign country they will embrace each other and act as though they’ve known each other their whole life even though they are complete strangers. Well, I think it’s the same with Canadians, or at least Albertans. We had no trouble filling up six hours, talking (in English) about everything from to vegan diets to language school to Leighton Hickman! Lane filled me in on the Paraguayan political situation (an ironic mess!), we drank tea together, and looked at maps of Paraguay (apparently Paraguay is bigger than Germany which we find hard to believe), and Sheri told me about how they ended up together (They were highschool sweethearts. When Lane remarked, “what do I know? I’m only 32” Sheri was able to tell him that he’d been saying that since he was 17.) My favourite part was their really cute kids. It was weird to hear little voices speaking in English, or I should say euphoric. A recurring theme throughout the evening was Tim Horton’s and Timbits. Their language tutor always asked them what was a Canadian food, and they best they could come up with was Timbits, and of course the tutor thought it must be some kind of joke to say that the national food is the donut hole. I can honestly say I haven’t thought about Tim Horton’s even once prior to last night, but I woke up this morning craving a honey crueller.
I have always wondered why people say it’s so important to be married if you want to be a missionary. In my mind, it makes a lot more sense to be soltera, free to serve others, immerse yourself in the culture and not have a family to take care of. But it sometimes comes at the high cost of personal crisis: homesickness, loneliness and “I can’t do this!!” Sure the Elliot’s miss some things (like Timbits), but whenever they want they can return to Canadian society just by entering their home and being together as a family and being reminded that they have each other and that is what the most important. I am so thankful that I could spend time with the Elliots, and that I am always welcome in Oscar and Karen’s home, and that I can always pick up a book in English and transport myself to familiarity; but at the same time I am so glad to have the experience of living with Emi and learning so much about Paraguayan life and to go whole days without speaking a word of English. I just don’t think I could do for the rest of my life.

2007-05-29T21:05:00.000-02:00

A continuation of the history of Paraguay…In addition to having the longest-lasting dictatorship in the western world, this country has suffered one of the worst wars in the history of humankind. During the war of the triple alliance in which our fearless Napolean wanna-be Francisco Lopez somehow incited Paraguay’s neighbours on three fronts, Argentina, Brazil and Uruguay, to join forces against the Heart of South America, fully half of the population died, including nine out of every 10 men. Even women and children fought in this war, in which Paraguay ended up losing a good chunk of land. And yet we celebrate this man as a hero (see my blog shortly after heroes’ day on March 1.) The Paraguayans held out for a long time though, as Lopez on his last leg fled deeper and deeper into the country, with his ridiculously elegant courtesan who insisted on carting along a grand piano to the various battlefields until the very end. The story goes that somewhere along the way, or perhaps in various places, the leader tried to procure a comfortable future for himself by burying treasure.
This past weekend I went to one of the cities which at one time he declared the capital city when Asuncion was taking over by the enemy. It’s called Concepcion. And at the very places I stayed, people think it is a possible site for where Lopez may have buried his treasure! However, instead of searching for treasure, we did other adventurous things, like butchering 2 chickens, 1 goose and 1 duck, fishing with homemade rods and cheese for bait, cooking in a clay oven, going into the bush to find mandioca root, and canvassing the neighbourhood to invite everyone to the evangelistic campaign. Well, it was adventurous and exciting for me, but for some people this is their life. I told Karen I will never feel sorry for any housewife in North America again. For these country women, getting a meal ready, washing the clothes by hand, tending the garden and sweeping the dirt is a full-time seven-day a week job. I think if I had to go through all that work to eat a chicken I would probably just be a vegetarian (although, I guess didn’t become a nudist when I was washing my clothes by hand.) I can’t even imagine what life must be like in some of the indigenous communities that we passed, where all people had was a lean-to and a fire to cook the food that they hunted and gathered. My favourite part of the weekend was when a neighbour lady who has a reputation for being somewhat cantankerous, seeing all the company that our hosts had, came and brought them a chicken. I am really grateful for the lush, fertile Paraguayan countryside, the generousity of the land and how it inspires the people to be generous to each other. We really can survive happily and healthily on very little material goods, it is much more important to cultivate good relationships and community. My least favourite part was being woken up in the middle of the night by mice scratching around in the room. I like to think of myself as a pretty adaptable person, using those country outhouses and cleaning up the poultry innards, but finding mouse poop in my bed in the morning really gave me the willies!

2007-05-21T19:13:00.001-02:00

On Friday I successfully completed 24 years of life. It seems like a fairly good-sized number, but on that day I felt more light-hearted and youthful than ever. There was a big conference for all the Christian school teachers in Paraguay, and I went with my co-workers to attend workshops, learn how to be better teachers and, most importantly, get inspired to keep persevering. I went to a workshop specifically for English teachers and was surprised to find that only the British lady leading the session and 2 or 3 others were native English speakers. I saw a guy wearing a hockey jacket that said “High River” on it and I thought he might be from Alberta, but was disappointed to hear a strongly accented voice. It turns out though, that he did receive it from a Canadian friend. I took advantage of the opportunity to pretend we were kids as we played games and sang songs, and was inspired by the teacher who has traveled all around the world, places like Spain and Egypt, teaching English.
The guest speaker was Dr. John Walsh of the Christian Storytelling Network (For those of you who know Dr. Jerry Shepherd from Taylor Seminary, if I closed my eyes while listening to Dr. Walsh I could have tricked myself into thinking it was Dr. Shepherd, their voices are so similar. Plus Dr. Walsh has a similar white santa claus beard). For two days I got to listen to someone speak in English on a very interesting topic – it was the best birthday present I could have imagined. He had an excellent translator too, and I think if I could spend more time listening to a speaker and a translator like that, my Spanish speaking skills would improve considerably.
Before people had their own copies of scripture in their homes, they learned what it meant to be a Jew or a Christian by hearing the stories of the Bible. Today we have lost that because we can just hand someone a Bible and tell them to go home and read it. According to Dr. Walsh, the Bible contains 525 stories, and 75% of the Bible is in story form. His solution for all that ails the church today is for people to “hide the word in their heart” by learning the stories and telling them. He told about a group of illiterate people who learned 150 Bible stories from some missionaries. Representatives from Southwestern, a big seminary in Texas, went to test them, and their findings were that these people who couldn’t even read had as much biblical knowledge as one of their seminary graduates. Thinking there must be some kind of mistake, they returned for a second round of testing. This time, they decided that their comprehension of the Bible was so complete, there was no reason not to award them seminary degrees. The only problem was, the people couldn’t read, so they had to put pictures on the certificates so the people would know which way to hang them on the wall!
Some people at the conference seemed nervous with Dr. Walsh’s idea of simply telling a story and not interpreting it or taking a lesson out of it. I agree with Walsh that the story doesn’t have a point, it is the point. He told me about a group of women in Iran that meets every morning at a missionary’s house to listen to a story. The missionary woman doesn’t read the Bible or give a lesson, she simply tells the story. Because there are no Bibles and no “teaching” it is perfectly legal. Then the women go home, and that night they tell the stories to their kids! Storytelling is also very effective in Buddhist communities where people would be shunned for going to a Bible study, but this way they are just going to hear stories.
However, they are not really “just” stories. Stories have power to influence our decisions and the things we value, our opinions and our lives. There are a few things I have taken out of this weekend: 1. I want to enjoy Bible stories again for being so strange and interesting and well-written, not always having to think “what is the application?” 2. I am considering a professional storyteller as a possible future career. 3. I want to always have a few stories in mind that I could share with people. I suppose I have lots of opportunities to write stories in my blog; I can’t wait to come home and tell them!

2007-05-21T19:12:00.001-02:00

A little while back Ben wrote about how when he was a kid he complained about the seemingly useless job of drying the dishes when they could just air dry, but as an adult he has become obsessive about immediately drying dishes due to a shortage of counter space (At least you have a pantry, Ben). It made me think about how, whenever I complained about being cold, my mom told me to wash the dishes to warm my hands up. Since we don’t have hot water here, my mom’s advice has been rendered useless. Lately I’ve been trying to take my showers between noon and four in the afternoon, preferably after some activity such as running to the grocery store. If not, I have to do jumping jacks or at least rapidly sweep the house, anything to get my blood pumping, in order to withstand the somewhat less than lukewarm temperature of the water. When I’m finally clean, I feel like I’ve really earned that shower.

2007-05-16T13:35:00.000-02:00

The closest thing we get to snow days here are when it rains really hard and no one wants to walk to school. Although it was raining really hard last night, this morning it was only trickling, but still some students used it as an excuse to be late. I hope all my students come tomorrow to write the English exam even if it is raining. I used the occasion to teach the song “the wise man built his house upon the rock.” They especially understood the part where “the-floods-came-up,” because often a low street will get flooded and become impassable (see I think the second or third lastest entry in Ben’s blog www.suddenlysenor.blogspot.com). A girl in first grade lives just down the street, and her parent’ brought her in their bare feet so as to not soak their shoes; mom carrying the backpack and dad carrying the girl.

2007-05-12T16:43:00.000-02:00

Technology Part 2: Techniques for Selling Produce

Before leaving for Paraguay, my sister and brother-in-law blessed me with a laptop computer. I got it all set up to use wireless internet, and planned to install skypes.com once I got down here and be able to talk over the internet for pennies a minute. I told my long-distance friends and long-distance sisters that our relationship wouldn’t even change because we could still talk on the phone whenever we wanted. I had dreams of sitting in a foreign internet café, being able to talk about whatever I wanted in public because no one would understand me anyways. Upon arrival, I discovered that wireless internet doesn’t exist in Paraguay, except in downtown Asunción. And while everyone else is chatting away on their cell phones, I am still waiting to get hooked up with a land line that I signed up for almost a month ago. It costs almost 50 cents to get a photo developed, more than 3 times as much as I would pay at home, and it can be seen from the advertisements in the photo-developing place that digital prints from pictures taken by a cell phone are much more popular than those from a camera. Two of my best friends here earn their living by reupholstering cars with leather interiors, but not a day goes by that I don’t see a man or some boys riding by in a cart pulled by a single skinny horse or a skinny horsed paired with a short hair mule. Sometimes they are collecting trash, Sometimes they are sorting through the trash looking for bottles or other “valuables.” Sometimes they have a load of big white sacks pile two or three meters high. More often than not, they are shouting into a megaphone “¡Piña! ¡Mandioca! ¡cebolla!”, advertising the pineapple, mandioca root or onion or whatever kind of produce they might be carrying. In Oscar and Karen’s neighbourhood I once saw a wagon piled with meat for sale. Ben once told me that the true test of Spanish comprehension would be when I could understand the megaphone-cart-guys, but all I really had to do was learn produce names. One day when I had a hankering for pineapple juice, a cart came back and I could just make out the word “¡Piña!” I asked for “dos” the driver said “two” to me and probably took advantage of my non-native naïveté by giving me the smallest, most tasteless pineapples of the bunch. Two days ago as a skinny horse trotted by with its load, I saw 2 CDs affixed to the rough wood on back of the cart. At first I thought it was a strange decoration (yet in keeping with Paraguayan style) until I realized they served as reflectors. I am still giggling when I think of it, but it is a good reflection of two different worlds converging in this place.
The thing about the produce-carrying carts is that it’s a pretty inefficient system. For example, if you need potatoes, do you risk it by staying at home and waiting for a cart instead of going to the store? What if you needed potatoes and onions, but the cart only had onions? You would have to go to the store anyways. I totally understand how you could walk past someone selling hot-greasy empanadas and you would buy one on a whim and eat it right there. But who is sitting in their house, makes out a barely intelligible “¡Piña! ¡Mandioca! ¡cebolla!” yelled into a megaphone, and decides they want some raw vegetables right then? I should add that the guys who sell newspapers use bikes, but not megaphones “¡ABC Color! ¡Crónica Popular” And the people who sell chipa walk with a basket on their head. “¡chipa! ¡chipa!” My favourite is the ladies selling pillows who go door to door. Everyone says Americans are the ones guilty of impulse buying, and making purchases they don’t really need, but I think the temptation is just as strong here.

2007-05-03T22:45:00.000-02:00

Techonological Tuerto
Every once in awhile I like to learn some not-so-common Spanish words. Tuerto means one-eyed, and not even my fourth grade students knew that until I taught them. I am trying to read “Alicia en el pais de las maravillas” (Alice in wonderland) but it has impossible vocabulary. I now know the word for some objects that I am not even sure what they are called in English, for example, the kind of telescope or whatever that a pirate uses that can expand and collapse, that is a “catalejo” in Spanish.
We love to use powerpoint here. Every Thursday I bring my computer to school so we can show fancy slides with song lyrics, and every Saturday for the little kids Bible story time as well. Although my computer is a little heavy to carry and I sometimes worry about it getting stolen or damaged, it’s not that big of a deal. My main concern is that it has become absolutely essential for our times of worship. The point of kids’ songs is that they are easy and stick in your brain, not to mention the kids sing many of the same songs every week. They don’t really need to look at the words. If anything, it is sometimes a distraction and creates a lot more work to haul out all the equipment. I am afraid we have fallen into what Neil Postman calls “techonopoly,” where we are one-eyed technophobes, and don’t consider in what ways the use of technology might be an encumbrance. When I suggested that maybe we don’t always need the songs on powerpoint, the response was that since we have it we’re going to use it.
Just because a technology exists, we are not compelled to use it. Sometimes I would rather walk to my friend’s house than use the phone. Sometimes I would rather sit in a circle and sing along to a guitar than have microphones and powerpoint slides. I am writing this in my blog because I realized people here won’t understand me. For most of them computers still invoke great interest and they especially love their cell-phones (the one widespread technology due to an underdeveloped infrastructure which makes it a pain to get a land line.) I always want to tell them that they aren’t missing out on that much. One of the things I have come to like about being here is my lack of technology. The times I get to talk on the telephone with my family are oh so precious, and because I only use the internet one or two times a week, I always have a new email waiting for me! I get a lot of exercise not having a car, and my water and electricity consumption are probably really low, from never using a TV or a pressure washer or clothes dryer. In the words of napoleon dynamite’s brother “I love techonology” because it enables me to communicate with my family and friends, but I see how life goes on without such conveniences, and sometimes they can hinder the good life. I suffer the most out of anyone when there are no song lyrics, but if they are always there I am never forced to commit the song to memory. I miss microwaves and the good things you can make in them, like nachos with melted cheese, or frozen burritos. It is a small price though, something I can easily give up knowing that I am doing God’s will by being here.

2007-04-30T22:54:00.001-02:00

Today was Day of the Teacher. It’s great because every class presents a song or poem and all the students bring presents and food and you get to have parties in class. I really fell in love with my students as I watched them recite poems and shower their teachers with gifts. Here is my inventory from today:

• An 8-inch tall clock shaped like a giant pink shoe with a boy standing beside it. The clock face says (in English) “Don’t forget it. I’m always waiting.”

• A necklace with a butterfly that already broke

• A box of yummy looking candies and chocolates

• A gift set of perfume and a pencil case (well, it’s probably a cosmetic bag, but it looks like a pencil case) that I might not open and possibly re-gift

• A little flower in a clay pot that has petals and leaves made out of coloured nylons

• Earrings shaped like a coin and with a portrait of Queen Elizabeth on it. For reasons unknown to me, these are very popular here, and people are interested to hear that Canadian coins have the same picture on them.

• Another school uniform t-shirt from the principals

Other teachers got sweaters and watches, rings and brushes. Last year Vivi got a huge wooden boat that you can plug in and it lights up. Although Paraguay is nowhere near the sea, almost every house I’ve been in has one of these wooden sail boats. I think they are fairly tacky, but I was secretly hoping to get one today. Once I told a friend I thought the boats were ugly, and when I went to her house the next week I saw that she had one too! The worst is that Karen also has boats and she is going to read my blog. But her boat is very small and inside of a bottle, so that kind of redeems it. My shoe clock is my prized possession, and I plan on bringing it back home with me, along with the clock I am currently using – a Precious-Moments-looking-boy kneeling beside an I-love-you-heart.
Ben gave me a book to read about a Mennonite from the Ukraine who ends up as a very influential missionary in Paraguay. I cried at one part because he spends Christmas all alone in this distant country, thinking of the rest of his family members who have been exiled to Siberia. He ends up marrying a Canadian girl whom he has never met before, only corresponded through mail. I cried for her too, because she was like me and had really high hopes of learning the language fast only to realize it would be more difficult than she thought. Plus her husband to be forgot to tell her that there was only cold water for showering, and even though she was a fine baker, she couldn’t use her skills because they didn’t have an oven. But like me, she realized that she could buy fresh bread from the store very cheaply, and so we are glad to not have to spend our time baking. I only miss not having an oven when we want to make pizza. Anyways, the part I really wanted to tell you about was her disappointment in the wedding presents. “Gifts were opened later at Tante Lena’s home and here again Anna felt the great contrast between Canada and the Chaco. In place of pretty gift wrap, the presents came wrapped in newspaper. There was an enameled pail, tea towels homemade from sugar sacks, and, instead of a dinner set, odd plates in assorted designs and colors.”
Sometimes when people give gifts here, they don’t even open them. And sometimes they just have a whole pile that they rip through and don’t really make a special effort to thank people individually. It is not part of the event that all the guests watch the present opening. I think they don’t make a big deal over presents because even at a birthday party it is unlikely that everyone will bring something, and the ones that do usually bring just something small. Since I am kind of a practical gift-giver, I found it difficult at first to know what to get people because I don’t like giving flowers made of nylons (that is probably why I like the shoe clock so much, very practical). But now that I have pictures on my computer of almost everyone, I like to get photos developed of the person and their family and give those, since most people don’t have a camera.
In case anyone is wondering, the book about the Mennonite missionary is called “whatever it Takes” by Dorothy Siebert. It is not great literature, but Ben says it is essential for understanding the history of Mennonite missions in Paraguay, and it is exciting enough to make me want to stop writing this blog and go back to reading it right now.

2007-04-27T15:40:00.000-02:00

Two days ago I couldn’t go outside without sweating. Today I have goose bumps on my arm. It’s probably not that cold here, but the change was so drastic. I almost forgot what it was like to be cold. But I just have to remind myself that I got to skip out on half a year of snow in Edmonton, so I am willing to withstand having to put on a sweater in the evenings…
I learned that in the area I live, there actually isn’t a sewage system. Most of it seeps into the ground, but if it gets too full under your house, you have to call a truck that comes and sucks up the sewage. I told my friend I thought it was a little gross, but he says the ground is a really good filter…
My landlady drove me downtown today to sign up to get a landline. They said that some one should come with a month to hook it up. The thing is, when someone says they are coming the next day, it usually takes a week. I hope I get my phone before I leave so I can tell my mom when to come and pick me up at the airport…
I feel like I met lots of new people this week. First there is my landlady’s “chica,” a girl named Ramona who cooks and cleans house. She’s 18 years old and came from the countryside to work, because there are 12 kids in her family. I think I am pretty good at carrying conversation, and I know this is true even in Spanish, because I think I must have asked her about 50 questions in a row and all she said was “sí.’ Another new friend is Toti, a 74-year old man who claims not to be a fanatic, but when his giant tongue stars rolling around in his mouth as he talks about religion, I think that would be a pretty good word to describe him. I got to know him because he has the biggest hernia ever and can’t go anywhere so he sits on the street in front of his house and waits for people like me to walk by and stop and talk with him. Then there are the workers from jean factory that I stopped and drank tereré with when I was out for a run; Amari, a girl I met when we showed a video to night school class, who claims to have learned English solely by listening to the Beatles. I wanted to ask her why she doesn’t have a British accent when she speaks in English. I’ve always been outgoing, but I think I have reached a new apex here. I am really inspired when I go back home to live more like a “warm-climate” person who has time to speak to anyone who might cross her path. I’ve even started having conversations with the checkers at the grocery store. I can see why our church can grow so easily here, because it is so easy to start a conversation with someone and invite them to come to a meeting or to play sports.
I’ve written before about Paraguayan holidays, but I need to add something else besides the fact that they celebrate weird stuff. I am used to even spacing between holidays – one day a month off work, a Monday. We went the whole month of February without a single holiday, but May is chock full of them, and only one is on a Monday! That is day of the teacher next week. And then Tuesday is Day of the worker. May 11th is mother’s day. The 15th is Independence Day. The 21st is day of the national anthem. On the 18th, there are no classes because the teachers have a workshop that day. Plus exams start on the 17th. So looking at my schedule there doesn’t seem to be many days of actual teaching this month. Which is okay because the evangelism team is doing lots of traveling, I found I actually like doing prep work here (lots of cutting and pasting and photocopying, and I have to do my own tedious laminating using packing tape), plus I have lots of new friends to visit!

2007-04-23T17:48:00.000-02:00

This weekend I read a children’s book that Ben loaned me, called From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, by E.L. Konigsburg. I think it made me somewhat homesick, because I read it on the day that I was missing my brother and my cousin’s college graduation, and it’s about a girl who runs away from and takes her brother with her. Claudia reminded me of myself because she was always bossing around the brother and correcting his grammar, and I could identify with her reason for running away: “to teach her parents a lesson in Claudia appreciation.” Even though sometimes my life feels difficult, I trust I have already been gone long enough to build up a lot of Ellen appreciation and it will be great to get lots of attention when I get back home! At the same time, I have built up a lot of appreciation for all my friends and family back home. Now I am going to write some things that might make my mom nervous and increase her Ellen appreciation even more…
One day I was walking to the grocery store at 9:30 in the morning with a girl named Raquel and her 2 or 3 year old son. As we passed by a ragged-looking man on the street, he slowly rose, mumbling, and drunkenly swung a loose fist at Raquel, tapping her lightly on the head. What was surprising to me was not the violent drunk in the street at that hour of the morning, but the fact that Raquel barely reacted. She calmly picked up her son and continued walking as though this was a common occurrence. I’ve decided that I actually live in a relatively safe and well-to-do neighborhood. My friend was robbed a couple of weeks ago; the thieves took the equivalent of about $4, which isn’t a ton, expect that she didn’t have any money to buy a bus ticket The worst part is that she asked for help and no one would give her money, and she couldn’t report it to the police, they wouldn’t do anything anyways. They say that during the reign of Stroessner from the 60’s to the 80’s there was not very much crime because no one could be out on the street late and the police had a lot of power. My roommate’s comment on the dictatorship was “at that time there were not a lot of thieves, but who was a greater thief than he who ruled?” Another 15-year-old girl told me that once she was held at knife point as some guys took the running shoes off her feet, but she’s not scared to walk alone. I receive a lot of warnings that people will steal my shoes or grab my purse as they get off the bus, or kidnap me because I am so obviously a foreigner. The worst I have suffered so far are drunk men (and sober men) who make rude comments. I don’t think I am in great danger of getting my shoes stolen, since I only wear flip-flops every day! my big fear here is still getting lost; I can get to Oscar and Karen’s by myself, but the bus routes and numbers are still totally confusing to me. I am reminded of the book title Trust in God but Lock Your Car. I know I am probably still a little naive of some of the things that go on even in my neighborhood, but at the same time I don’t want to live in fear. If I were worried about being safe I probably shouldn’t have come here in the first place.
It’s my mom’s birthday on Wednesday. I guess this blog about getting robbed and kidnapped was kind of a terrible birthday present. But in the From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, the kids spend a whole week in New York and never get hurt. I loved this observation on how some mothers are: “…Jonathon Richter’s mother hadn’t let him go for fear he’d get separated from the group in all the jostling that goes on in New York. Mrs. Richter, who was something of a character, had said that she was certain he would ‘come home lost.’” Mom, thanks for raising me to not want expensive shoes that would be tempting to steal, for instilling in me the love of reading, and for appreciating me probably even more than I know!

2007-04-18T20:10:00.000-02:00

Two weeks ago I had a strange feeling. It wasn’t homesickness or frustration with teaching or loneliness or sadness, feelings I experience on a weekly basis. I actually got bored. I had already spent a lot of time walking around exploring the neighborhood, reading, I had all my lessons planned, my house was clean. So I went to Maria Teresa’s work where she reupholsters cars, and had a great time playing a word game with her employees. If I were at home or somewhere in North America, I might have gone to a coffee shop or the mall or a movie theatre or library or a nice park, but none of those things are within my grasp here (parks, yes; nice parks, no). I have to rely solely on the handful of people I know from the church and school to animate my life. Before even going to the supermarket was exciting, but I think now it is starting to wear off just a little. Not a moment too soon, my relationships are starting to afford me with a lot of entertainment. The people are becoming more and more interesting to me, not just because they’re Paraguayan but because they are my friends and I care about them. I like to think I am becoming part of the group; my evidence for this is that I had a disagreement with they guy with whom I was leading games for camp and had to ask for forgiveness from each other, my roommate and I shared some things that annoyed us about each other, and there was a RUMOR going around about me! Arguments, brutal honesty and hearsay are not things that come about with a visitor, they are marks of being an insider! In case anyone is worried about me, you can also know that my relationships are strong enough that these things have quickly passed over, and in fact I am glad for them because I feel more confident and comfortable than ever now that I know I am able to resolve conflicts here. Unfortunately, it doesn’t make for a terribly interesting blog because I can’t exactly write about any of the things. There is a terrible temptation for gossip because people like to tell me about things that happened in the past. They also tell me lots about of personal stuff. Maybe Paraguayans are just really open like that, or maybe they like having my trustworthy ear to listen because I am not fully capable of communicating their secrets to anyone else! I’ll tell you the GOOD things: Today I made fried eggplant and Emi thinks I am becoming an excellent cook. People are always telling me how much they will miss me when I leave and asking if I might stay longer or come back to visit (I am definitely on the downhill from here, less than 6 ½ months until I finish teaching on November 5!) I went to three people’s birthday parties this past weekend, but two of them were twins! (My birthday is a month from today. Normally I wouldn’t mention it, but people here make a pretty big deal out of birthdays and it has rubbed off a little.) I think I forgot to write that I went bowling 2 weeks ago. The bowling part was as lame as it is at home, but the company and the pizza from a Pizza Hut (!) place in the mall afterwards was excellent. I am embarrassed because I got the second lowest score. So I feel bad about feeling bored that one day…how can I ever get bored being with 80 kids every day in such an exotic place as Paraguay?! Besides, my aunt Loll says that only boring people get bored. By the way, there is no way you can say that in Spanish, they don’t really have a concept of the difference between bored and boring.

2007-04-09T19:16:00.000-02:00

Today when she prayed before we ate lunch, Emi thanked God for the “agradable” weather. I couldn’t think of a better adjective than “agreeable,” and the great weather, plus a week of travel and vacation and spending lots of time with friends also puts me in a very agreeable mood as I write this. Actually, it rained almost the whole weekend we were at camp, but it turned out great that we could play hours of Bible trivia! I attempted to share my testimony one night, and once again I was greatly humbled. I thought of how I would speak at campfire at western camp and be flooded with compliments later, whereas here I am not even sure people understood me. At home I could teach the junior high Bible class or be the leader of the cabin counselors, but even the smallest responsibilities are a great challenge for me. The positive aspect of this is that I have learned to love helping others. I felt sorry for Karen and another woman Elena who basically lived in the kitchen, so whenever I had some free time I could go to the kitchen and help them. It was such a joy for me to be made useful there, and I learned how to make chipa! I also had a blast helping Ben make questions for “BIBLIGO” a Bible Jeopardy game with such categories as “fathers and sons,” finish the proverb” or “clothing.” I realized I could never have done a good job of these things by myself, but with Karen’s awesome cooking abilities and Ben’s superb ideas, I was proud of everything we did together. Last year in the hallway of the school there was a sign with this quotation by Tagore:
I slept and I dreamed that life was happiness I woke and I saw that life was service I served and I found that service was happiness
I went to camp and found it difficult to just hang out and talk, so I served instead and it made me very happy. Of course, this has all made me very nostalgic for Western Camp and I am intensely jealous of Ben and Vivi and Karen and Oscar who are going in July, but I am glad some of you will get to meet them. Tomorrow I go back to teaching. It feels like so long since I’ve been in the classroom (it’s only been one week) so it’s almost like starting over again, except this time I am four hundred times more confident. As always, I’ll let you know how it goes in a couple of days.

2007-04-05T11:59:00.000-02:00

Easter break has kind of been like spring break last year, where I planned lots of work but ended up doing none of it. Last weekend I went with the “evangelism team” to a village clear across the other side of the country on the border to Brazil, about a 5-hour drive. Hernandarias has only one paved road and lots of kids born to very young mothers it seemed. When I arrived it was very windy and our car and our selves were immediately covered in red dust. A few hours later it rained a little and the floors got covered in red mud. I really liked eastern Paraguay because it is a little higher and closer to the ocean, cooler and fresher than Asunción almost to a degree of perfection. I fell in love with Paraguay again as we drove through the beautiful countryside, just in time for my 6-month anniversary with this place. On the way we stopped and bought the best chipa I ever had (a kind-of cheesy bagel made with mandioca flour) but then returning we had even better chipa! I learned that chipa and homemade bread are Easter foods in Paraguay. It seems to me that the “special holiday foods” here are the same as what we eat every day, besides maybe the fruit cake at Christmas.
I had an awesome weekend, probably because I got a lot of attention and made lots of friends. Some girls took me for a walk around the town (the highlights of the tour were the paved road, the high school one girl attended, and the two grocery stores) and told me that everyone knew each other, there was lots of gossip, they liked to cross the border to buy clothes in Brazil, and they all wanted to move to the city. I think small towns are the same everywhere in the world. The first friend I made was a 17-year old who had just broken up with her boyfriend and moved back into her parent’s house. The first night I stayed at town counselor’s house whose wife worked 24-hour shifts as a guard at a women’s prison, because the pastor’s house had no electricity. I would think a civil servant and a security guard would be a sufficient income, but their house was cluttered with car parts and plastic swimming pools, which the wife said they planned to cart to Asunción one day to sell. You know how sometimes things have “tricks,” like a light switch that you need to flick in a certain way to turn on or a door you have to close just so? It seemed to me like everything in this house, which was really a garage, had a trick. Yet in spite of this and the constant dirtiness I felt strangely comfortable. At the pastor’s house the second night, I went outside to wash my feet before going to bed, and ended up staying outside for two hours more talking with the pastor’s wife and her 20-year old sister who lived with them because she had a baby a few years ago. She wanted to dictate a letter to me, but she was very surprised when I wrote with “unconnected” letters. I told her about Google Earth and how their town could be seen from space. She told me about how before she and her husband were separated and how he was a drunkard and a womanizer. They lived only two houses away from the church and I thought this was because he was the pastor, but actually it was because they lived so close that she started attending the church. Her husband started attending two years after her, but the first few times he sneaked around the block so his friends wouldn’t see him enter. I thoroughly enjoyed staying up late and sharing our life stories, but I felt sorry for Elsa who was getting up at 4:30 in the morning to do her laundry!
I always really enjoy my visits to the country, but I am also glad that I live in a bigger city. In the country the preferred language is Guarani, or at least a very strong mixture of Spanish and Guarani. Another thing is that the kids are so bored that it is difficult to sit down and read because they will follow you everywhere and ask you to make elephant sounds. But it was good because they taught me a lot of Guarani. Today I am leaving for church camp at Rancho Alegre, Happy Ranch! I am in charge of games and am very excited to play “Biblgo” my version of a Bible trivia game, and capture the flag. The camp schedule is basically the same as western camp except that dinner is at 9 in the evening. Happy Easter everyone! As silly as the Easter bunny might seem in North America, it makes even less sense here where we are getting into fall time. Also, I thought yesterday about how strange it will be for me to say “Santa Claus,” now that santa is the word I use to describe the Bible or God’s Spirit, and how Santa Claus kind of makes Christmas the opposite of holy. But everything is opposite here, instead of chocolate I will be eating cheesy chipa and homemade bread.

2007-03-30T21:05:00.000-02:00

This afternoon I was supposed to go downtown with my roommate. We were going to see a play about Stroessner, the cruel Paraguayan dictator that I wrote about a while back. (and I didn’t know this at the time but he actually died relatively recently. He was never let back into Paraguay.) Unfortunately, something was wrong with the theatre. ??I don’t know, that’s Paraguay. It is a terribly hot day to be riding in a bus anyways. Ever since the second day of autumn I think it’s been getting warmer. I’m already confused enough because it should be spring, and so this Indian summer isn’t helping much.

Sorry that I haven’t written in a while. I didn’t feel like I had anything to write about, other than last Friday I went to an international dinner at Brandon and Gaby’s school and ate samosas and Korean sushi (they go to an American school for missionaries, and there are loads of Korean missionaries here.) I only became convicted of it yesterday, when I read the pathetic story of a brit named C.B. Mansfield who set out for Paraguay in 1852 to “gratify a whim…to see the country I believed to be an unspoilt Arcadia…” It had only been 12 years since the death of a different, yet still cruel, dictator, Dr. Gaspar Rodríguez Francia. “El Supremo,” as he is better known, believed that most people – had they intelligence to realize it – would be happy to forsake personal liberty for the sake of order. During his reign from 1816 to 1840, there was very little connection with the outside world. All the colleges were closed, the post office, the newspapers. Fiestas were banned. And worse, like decreeing that the Spanish could not marry among themselves and making prostitution an honorable profession, but you just have to find some history book to read it yourself or you won’t even believe it. Anyways, Paraguay had become somewhat of a closed mystery to the rest of the world, and some writers had started to take an interest in this strange foreign paradise. Our friend Mansfield decided he could be the one to write something that would rekindle the imagination. “Paraguay,” he wrote on arrival, “is the most interesting, loveliest, pleasantest country in the world.” But after a month, he was bored. “I have lived a very monotonous life, without any incidents to make it worthwhile to keep a journal.” So, there you have it. I don’t want anyone to think I started out with gusto and then got bored. Although this Thursday will be my six-month anniversary. I might still be in the honeymoon period.

One of my big goals while I’m here is to practice hospitality and be very generous in sharing my life with people, and I’ve been trying really hard: I spend a lot of time with others, I have gotten to know a lot of people and a few of them fairly well. I know what it is like in a normal Paraguayan home, what they eat and when they go to bed and how they clean. I have company at least once a week and I have gone over to other people’s houses and cooked for them. But with all my good intentions, the project has been a failure. First of all, my cooking is never up to par; my bread and cakes are flat, the sauces are too liquidy and have no flavour, and even rice and noodles are sticky and hard. The only things I make really well are salads and sandwiches, neither of which are very respectable food items here. Much more seriously, I don’t serve my guests with a spirit of generosity. Some weekends two girls who live far from the church stay ay my house Saturday night. Sure, I share my toothpaste and put out mattresses and make them instant coffee with milk (yuck!), but it really bugs me that they never bring their own towels or pajamas. I basically stopped washing the sheets every week, and I even told them to bring their own pajamas. Second event: On Tuesday I bought more than a kilo of bread that I thought would last my roommate and I the whole week. Than that night some friends came over for spaghetti and a movie, and two guys ate the entire bag of bread! So I had to go back to the store the next day. But this next story is really what’s on my mind. There are two girls from the neighbourhood that for some reason started dropping in to visit me all the time. They asked when they could come over “to learn English” (they really know where my weak spot is) and when I said Thursday, one girl said that it was her birthday and we could have a party. I agreed to make a cake, but if they wanted appetizers they could make some themselves. Thursday afternoon I finished teaching and was looking forward to going home, washing some clothes, and resting before the party started. To my disappointment, Daisy met me on the way home and came over to help. After searching my fridge for what we could serve at the party, she also mentioned that we forgot to get party favours, and they only cost 3,000 Gs, but she didn’t have any money. I gave her 5,000 Gs, and rightly expected not to get any change back. The party turned out to be a smashing success; the kids gobbled down my too-flat, sugary chocolate cake, and taught me some games. We decorated balloons and made a piñata (which Daisy swung at with a knife, eek!) and two hours later the night ended with six kids in my landlady’s pool, screaming and wearing only their undies. As I cleaned up the chocolate cakes crumbs and muddy red footprints from my kitchen floor, I had some regrets. I wish I would have given Daisy 10,000 Gs for party favours. I wish I would have bought them pop. I wish I would have let them use my towel after swimming. I wish I would have bought more bread on Tuesday. I should buy extra towels for guests and have extra toothbrushes. I justify my selfish actions by pointing out my annoyance at how sometimes I feel like people expect me to give so much, or how kids are always asking me for things. I want to give a sucker or a balloon to a kid who doesn’t demand it of me, and who is very grateful afterwards. But what I’ve learned and what I am working on now is to give without thinking about whether the person deserves it or what I will get in return. If I am ever going to live generously, I want to start here where I have the means to do so. I also want to thank the people who have shown me what it looks like to live gernerously. Some of my role models include Auntie Margret (having company every Sunday, Christmas day at Auntie Margret’s, candy canes for all the grandkids), and Auntie Olga (always buying clothes or other things for people, doing all the work for the garage sale, taking people out for coffee), Uncle Emil and Auntie JoAnn, those who I babysat or tutored or did other work for and always paid me more than enough, Sabo relatives in general, Aunt Loll and Uncle Karl who even let me live with them a whole summer, my church and their support for me and other missionaries, Peter and how he always drives his friends around and lends without expecting to get paid back, Annette and Nate who have great snack food and make special breakfasts. I am so rich to have more people than I can list here who have shared abundantly with me. They have inspired me to be more generous, and I will give cheerfully as I think of them.

2007-03-19T19:29:00.000-02:00

Speaking of oppression. Paraguay’s history is full of it not just in a spiritual sense, but in regards to its politics. Did you know that Paraguay was victim to the second longest dictatorship in the world, and in fairly recent history too? General Alfredo Stroessner’s reign lasted 34 years from 1954 to 1989, outlasted only by the dictatorship of Kim Il Sung. Of course, to maintain such a rule it required a lot of interrogation, torture, and death. Apparently his favourite thing to do with his opposition was to fly them over the Chaco desert region and drop them out of a plane. And it’s not just Stroessner, the last 530 years since the founding of Asunción are connected together by a common thread of REALLY BAD LEADERS! It is said that Paraguayans are a rather reserved people. You don’t see a lot of public demonstrations or hear about protest groups, and according to the reader’s Digest that I stole, it is rare to see someone get angry in public. This characteristic calm is attributed to so many years under totalitarian/corrupt governments; the people don’t know how to be in a democracy, or they are so used to their voice not being important that they just don’t care anymore. Anyways, it’s been really good for me to learn a bit and discuss politics with people, and surprising. One college-educated girl told me she thinks Paraguay needs another dictator, because at least then there might be more jobs available! It appears to me that not very much is made in Paraguay with the exceptions of chipa, jewelry, some low-quality furniture and the like; the service industry dominates, and people do and sell all kinds of useless things. (On a brighter note, everyone I know likes their job. I honestly can say I have not met one person who complained about his or her work.) The book I read painted a very grim portrait of Stroessner so I asked Ben’s wife Vivi if she could tell me any good he did. The best answer she could come up with is that he made a lot of roads. Anyways, the general was killed by his one of his right-hand men, who also happened to be his daughter-in-law’s father, and one author writes about the time since then: “Now the children were learning the national anthem in school, “Paraguayos República o Muerte” (“Paraguayans, Republic or Death”), but what they were being offered was not a choice but an epitaph” (John Gimlette, At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig).
Ben let me borrow this book, and also it was his birthday on Saturday. Feliz Cumpleaños Ben.

2007-03-19T19:26:00.000-02:00

On Thursday I went grocery shopping and ran into a guy from church. He didn’t have a cart or a basket, and when I asked why, he explained to me that he was bored at home so he decided to walk around in the air-conditioned grocery store, poor guy! It worked out really well for me though, because he helped me order my meat, and get my vegetables and bread weighed, and carried the majority of my heavy bags back home! Anyways, he took advantage of shopping for meat to bring up my “strange” eating habits. I eat fairly normal by north American standards I think, including some type of meat almost every day (a meal without meat is not considered real food here) but the Paraguayans who can afford it, and probably even those who can’t, eat a ridiculous amount of beef, chicken and sausage. Almost every Sunday we have big asados BBQ’s where even the women eat a pound or more of meat. I tried to explain my reasons to my friend, such as about social responsibility (a lot more people can live off the grain it would take to feed a cow, rather than eating the cow), that it’s expensive, that it is healthy to eat smaller amount, and besides, I just don’t like it that much! He kept probing, until finally he revealed to me that the reason he is so interested is because witches don’t eat meat. According to common Paraguayan belief, meat is a prime source of energy for the body (true), and when you don’t eat it your body is weak and therefore it easier for demons to enter into you (probably not always true). I started asking questions to others, hoping there was just this one guy who held to this belief, and unfortunately it seems even the most reputable sources consider it a valid point. Of course I bought up fasting, the case of Daniel and his friends, and the fact that some people can’t even digest meat well, but is was not enough to convince.

What I learned from this first of all was that I could never be a vegetarian here, not that it was even socially possible before I knew this. Secondly, it reminded me once again how different our cultures are and sometimes it is so difficult to see things from another’s point of view. The people here see a demon in everything, and demonic power is very real. Karen says there are witch doctors here, and if your baby has diarrhea you can take him to the doctor who will turn him upside down, hold him by one foot and say a few words, and the baby will actually be healed. There are people in our church who before they were Christians would take part in pagan rituals, like dancing on hot coals. The strange thing is that after they became Christians, they could no longer go over the coals without getting badly burned. The skeptic in me doesn’t know how to respond to this information. I want to explain away their experiences somehow or not believe them. But whether or not these things are true, the fact is that many many people here live in fear. If these beliefs are so deeply instilled that even some mature Christians are uneasy in their thoughts, how much more is the general population suffering from these evil spirits that are almost tangible to them?
I don’t write these things to impress you with our “spiritual warfare” here, or so you can think Paraguayans are naive and living in a former age. I just want to show the need for freedom and some of the hurdles the Christians message has to overcome. I highly recommend a short story called “the Gospel According to Mark” by argentine author Jorge Luis Borges. It deals well with how paganism is so deeply rooted in the native culture, how “it’s in their blood,” and what it looks like when these beliefs encounter the gospel. I don’t want my friends here to be afraid, and I want to take their experiences seriously and try to understand better.

2007-03-13T22:33:00.000-02:00

The other day I was going through the checkout line in the supermarket and I saw a Reader’s Digest with the main article title “What Annoys Paraguayans?” (“Annoy” is my best attempt at a translation of the word “molestar.” I felt very uncomfortable using this word when I first came, but now I don’t even think of the English meaning and I am afraid for the day when I return and I ask someone if I am molesting them.) Even though these kind of unofficial polls tend to be over-generalized and obvious, I thought it might be an interesting read for me. I had a few qualms about buying it, considering that the magazine cost as much as two bags of groceries, but just as it came time to pay I decided I would splurge for the sake of learning about the culture and reading Paraguayan Spanish. After I walk out of the store, I always stop to rearrange the contents of my bags, as I am somewhat picky about which items should go together and the weight distribution (this didn’t make the Paraguayan’s list, but it really bugs me when they put the tomatoes under a bottle of cooking oil or the ground beef with the bread.) I was congratulating myself on how many groceries I bought for only a few dollars, until I realized that I had slipped the magazine in my purse without paying for it.
I have a confession. For a few seconds I considered just to keep on going. It would be terribly embarrassing to have to walk back in and pay, and the checker would be thinking, “what a stupid american girl.” In hindsight I am so thankful that no alarm went off, I would have been so confused and I would have died a thousand deaths with all those strange eyes on me. And even though I am a missionary and I don’t know that I’ve ever purposefully stolen anything in my whole life, the thought still entered my mind, “hey, free magazine!!” But of course I returned it, because the thought of a gnawing conscious seemed be worse than any shame I might suffer in front of the checker. And I wouldn’t have been able to tell anyone the story.
Speaking of timidity, the last two Sundays I played piano for church. I am very thankful that my mom made me take piano lessons and I have these skills to minister the church and to God, but it really is quite terrifying for me. In the first place, our sound system is a single speaker that is farther ahead of the raised part in front (I don’t want to use the word “stage” as part of a church, I can’t remember what it is called, platform maybe.) I can’t hear what I am playing, and at any given time I could be totally in the wrong key and not have a clue about it. I am really jealous of the guy playing guitar beside me who can’t even read music but is very naturally blessed musically and he can just sing and play straight from his inner depths. I have to concentrate so much on what I’m playing that sometimes I can’t even sing and I’m not sure that I am really worshipping God with the rest of the congregation. My other misgiving is that I have always been of the opinion that church music should be well-planned, thoughtful, and practiced and delivered with the best we have to offer. I am very uncomfortable with the fact that right now I am playing bad-sounding chords for the King of the Universe. I will probably get a bunch of replies to this entry that it is okay as long as my heart is in it and whatever, but I think I am just going to start practicing more. In case you are wondering why Ben isn’t playing piano, he is doing the music for the Sunday school kids this month. We have 17 people on our equipo de alabanza so the praise team had to split up into two groups and take turns serving in different areas. Plus we want to raise up other leaders and not always just put all the responsibility on Ben. So I guess this is my chance to get better and be a viable backup. Nevertheless, I really hope that sometime maybe we could start a choir here and I would feel more at home being a participant in that arena.
Returning to my former topic, the number one thing that bothers Paraguayans, according to Reader’s Digest, is all the trash strewn about the streets. It is partially due to the stray dogs that dig through all the garbage, but I think this is ironic because almost everyone litters without a second thought. I guess they don’t have much of a concept of “one person can make a difference.”
I don’t feel bad about spending money on the magazine, because I have already let two other people read it. Good reading material is somewhat in demand by those who care about it. Plus I am memorising some of the jokes to share.

2007-03-10T16:38:00.000-02:00

Paraguay has A LOT of skinny dogs roaming around on the street. This dog, however, is a pet of a family from church and was born with a lame foot.

2007-03-10T16:36:00.000-02:00

As you can see the houses along the creek here are not the biggest and fanciest. These pictures with pigs snouting around in the trash were taken a block away from the main strip, Cacique Lambaré.

2007-03-10T16:33:00.000-02:00

A beautiful light-up nativity scene in front of a fairly wealthy house.

2007-03-08T19:19:00.000-02:00

2007-03-08T19:14:00.000-02:00

so this is a picture of ybycui national park. See? no people and very beautiful

2007-03-06T19:11:00.000-02:00

Today I was walking home from school and saw some coins in the grass and picked them up. AS I continued walking, I realized that what I picked up, two fifty-cent pieces, were actually worth about two cents. This just goes to show I am definitely still a stranger here; I buy things every day and still don’t understand the monetary system. In fact, I feel more foreign than ever, perhaps because I am realizing I will never fit in, and in some ways I don’t even want to. I am never going to start eating bread with all three meals a day, I am not going to come anywhere near perfecting the language or the accent. I refuse to use the tablecloth as a napkin, and I will probably never drink tereré alone, maybe one day when I am back at home and I really miss Paraguay. Furthermore, it is possible for me to be in a room without the fan on. Here it is just an automatic response, even when it is cold in the morning someone will flick the fan on. I don’t like eating dinner later than nine o’clock. I don’t like eating lots of meat or friend foods. I like to walk fast. I don’t like trinkets in my room. I like buying things in bulk if it makes them a lot cheaper. I don’t like having to greet every single person in the room, multiple times.
Pastor Dario and I have an ongoing conversation about the salutation system in Paraguay. It is a very formal society, and almost every time you see someone for the first time that day, you kiss her (one on each cheek in Paraguay, just the right cheek in Uruguay and Argentina, and three kisses in Brazil) or shake hands with him (the Paraguayan handshake, though, is much weaker. When Judah was here Ben had to tell him not to shake so hard because he would scare some of the girls. I always try to teach the young boys to have a firmer shake.) There are only a few males I am on a kissing-basis with in the church, and one of the pastors and three or four of the older ladies always hug me, which is the best!
So when I arrive at church I probably have to greet at least thirty people. After the service ends, I greet all of them again and say “God bless you.” If we have an afternoon or evening service, we going through the whole charade again. Well, I shouldn’t use such a word. As for me, I have made a very conscious effort to mean it every time I give blessings, but sometimes I doubt the sincerity when a person mutters a whole string of greetings like “hola qué tal dios te bendiga cómo estás?” and moves on to the next person without waiting for a response, but we do that in North America too. It can be hard to have a conversation after church, because you will be interrupted at least five or six times by people who want to kiss and bless you.
Morning devotions with the teachers can be a little confusing with the greetings. If you arrive a little early you will have greeted some but not others, and then it is awkward later because only about ten minutes have transpired and you don’t know whether to greet again. The worst though is that we sit in a circle, and you have to go all the way around the circle while the other side is watching your behind as you bend down to kiss everyone.
Now that I know the system, I admit I have broken the rules a bit. Lots of times now I will enter a room and throw my arms up in the air and say loudly in English “Hello everyone!” On Sunday I also went over to a family’s house and made them curry chicken, a spice they may have never tasted before. There are definitely ways I wish I could be a better Paraguayan: I am still really bad at hand-washing clothes plus it is my least favourite chore, I still want to learn to cook like they do so I can please my guests here and bring that talent back home with me, and I want to honor people like they do. I think the reason behind the greeting system is to acknowledge people and show that people are relationships are what they value, rather than getting some place else on time or doing other work. What do my readers think? After five months is it okay if I hug rather than kiss and walk really fast, or should I still just be trying to fit in?

2007-03-03T15:00:00.000-02:00

Wow, the past few weeks have gone by so fast, and after one month of work I was already rewarded with a mini-vacation. Karen´s birthday was on Tuesday (if you want to know how old she is, maybe she wrote the age in her blog), and since March 1 is a national holiday, the family like to take advantage of the boys´ day off school to get out of town for awhile and celebrate. I was lucky enough to be invited along. We went to a national park called Ybycui, (which means ¨sand¨ in Guarani)¨ and spent the day swimming in a natural pool underneath a waterfall. It wasn´t just the warm weather and not-ice-cold water that reminded me I wasn´t in Banff national park; Ybycui lacked two things that made it stand in stark contrast to anything you would find in North America: signs and people. I saw only one sign about throwing garbage in a garbage can, and two small beat-up signs by the river, one that said ¨no fishing¨ and another saying that the water was deep and dangerous, but left me confused as to if swimming was still allowed past that point. The last sign was one advertising a 930 meter, with a recommended travel time of one hour! Karen always told me everyone knows I am a foreigner just from the way I walk, and after finishing the hike in a fraction of the estimated time, I assume this must be because my leisurely stroll is 4 times as fast as the average Paraguayan´s. Even though it was a national holiday, there was only one family camping there and a few carloads of people that came and went throughout the day. The campers were a group of twelve that had come from opposite directions for a family get-together. Karen and Oscar made friends with the lady who seemed to be in charge, and their amiability paid off when she saw we were somewhat unprepared to spend the day (we thought there would be a place to buy lunch and had only brought along a bag of Doritos, 2 oranges, and some cookies). She brought us a lunch of Paraguayan staple foods and every ten minutes or so returned with another 2L of pop. It was generosity to the excess for complete strangers, a fine example of Paraguayan hospitality. That night, at the pleading of the boys, we decided to stay at a hotel called the Villa Americana. It was really more of a camp setting, with about ten little cottages and a nice outdoor pool and I suppose it would have been considered somewhat luxurious by Paraguayan standards. Again, in spite of the holiday and nice weather, we were the only guests at the hotel that night. I got frustrated because it took the kitchen staff an hour and a half to make us sandwiches for dinner, forgot part of our order, and served us extremely salty fries with fermented ketchup. I remarked that in North America at the very least one could ask for something else to eat, or get the meal for free. Here I have just learned to keep my mouth shut, as it would be very insulting to say that the fries were too salty, and they wouldn´t do anything about it anyways. The boys and I made friends with an administrator who was obviously bored out of his mind, and played lots of games of free pool with him.

I spent a lot of time with my nose in a book about a man who travels by train from Boston to the Southern tip of Argentina. He doesn´t go through Paraguay, but I have been inspired to learn more about this country, in order to tell you my reader more about it. I still have 150 pages left, but I have already learned so much about Mexican and Central American geography and politics. Here goes my first attempt, then, to make my blog more than just some general observations, but it is pretty bad. After this I am going to read a book on Paraguayan history (after which, Dario says, I need to teach it to them!) and then maybe I can write something more trustworthy. Heroes´ day commemorates the death of Mariscal Lopez. I am not sure why he is a hero though: he was some kind of a dictator who fought in a war for independence alongside women and children and he lost. I do know, however, that there is a shopping mall named after him. I also read about the history of the AC church, and since I didn´t know very much about Mr. Lopez, I instead celebrated the heroes who risked their lives to share the gospel and eventually formed our church. More on this next week…

2007-02-24T16:12:00.000-02:00

NAMES
Ayelen Leticia Abagail Dosanto Aquino… José Gregorio Jiménez Gamarra … Cristhian Samuel Quintana Rejala … Lorien Esmeralda Miquel Insaurralde … these are just a sampling of some of the names on my class lists. I have always considered myself to be fairly good at remembering names, but even after two and a half weeks I have not learned how all of my eighty-some students are called. One good thing is that I can always ask “what is your name?” and just pretend that I am seeing if they understand what I am saying, but usually it is not very successful because they say it too fast and quiet anyways. I’ve only tried doing roll call in one of my classes, but I am not always even sure which name to call. Some of them use their first, some their second, some a nickname, some use whichever name they feel like on a given day. No matter which one they use, there is a good chance I will pronounce it wrong. Also, there is a good chance that more than one student in the class is named Fernando, Camila or José. But the worst is that even if I pronounce it right and a student knows I am talking to him or her, the student won’t respond anyways.
To know someone’s name and be able to pronounce it is to have a certain amount of power over that person. When someone says my name, I have no choice but to turn my head and look. In Exodus chapter three, Moses responds to a voice that calls out to him from a bush: “Moses! Moses!” “Here I am.” The voice is introduced as the God of your (Moses’?) father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob – a name almost as long as one of my students’. Names like this are difficult to call out when you need someone to stop whistling or kicking the kid in front of her. Long names are very inconvenient when the cords of death are wrapped around you and the torments of Sheol overcome you, when arrogant people attack you and a gang of ruthless men seek your life, or when your bones melt like wax. At this point in history, Moses’ people are in need of a name they can pronounce when they are getting whipped and beaten by the Egyptian slave drivers, or when they feel homesick for the Promised Land, so Moses asks God what his name is. God first replies “I am who I am” or “I will be who I will be,” but tells Moses to introduce the people to him by his nickname: “I am.” It’s only four characters long, but scholars wanted something fancy so they dubbed it “the tetragrammatron.” Transliterated from the Hebrew, it is YWHW, or in your NIV version it appears as “the LORD.” You can pronounce it as Yahweh, but not in front of your Jewish friends, not even the most liberal among them. I once visited a Jewish congregation that had a female Rabbi and called their synagogue a temple, and even they were very apprehensive about humans pronouncing God’s personal name. In order to honor The Name, the scribes left out the vowel pointing and that is why we can only guess at the pronunciation.
Besides the difficulties presented due to vowel pointing, the ancient Hebrew language is also somewhat lacking and imprecise when it comes to verbal tenses. I have a friend who translated the beginning of God’s response as “I will be who I was.” In some ways I kind of like this, because God’s introduction of himself (God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob) shows that he has been faithful to Moses’ forefathers, and therefore he will continue to be faithful to every generation. Others think God gives no answer at all, that he says something like “it’s none of your business, I am whoever I wanna be.” I learned something in school about how the other nations had gods who, if someone called on them, they had to answer. It’s like performing a magic spell if only you knew the right words, or maybe even expecting a miracle if only you prayed the right words. It’s possible that God is telling Moses the only important thing is that God exists and will be there for his people when they need him, but he doesn’t want people using his name just for whatever.
If God is in fact telling Moses his name, it puts him in a somewhat vulnerable position; it’s possible that people could start wars, they could oppress others, they could curse and condemn, they could try and gain earthly goods or power over circumstances to meet their own ends, all in the power of his name. At any given time, over the next 3300 years, there would always be someone, somewhere, in trouble, distressed, sad, calling on his name to come to their rescue. It’s true there would be a large amount of thanks given to the bearer of the Name, and rejoicing in it, but wouldn’t one get tired being called upon to celebrate others’ trivial successes day after day after day?
I tried to teach the students to call me Miss Sabo, and explain that this would be an appropriate term of respect in North America. Unfortunately my name is a little close-sounding to the Spanish word “sapo” which means toad. So I guess I am Teacher Ellen, or even just “Teacher.” I not only hear it a million times each day at school – “Teacher, look at my drawing,” “Teacher, tell me the answer to the quiz,” “Teacher Ellen can I get a drink of water” (“no, you just had recess”) “Teacher Ellen, do we have to copy all of that?” “Teacher, when do we get to watch a video?”– I also hear it almost every time I leave my house, even from the neighbourhood kids that do not go to our school. Luckily I can please them just by asking “how are you?” in English; when we cry out, “save me oh LORD!” it requires a lot more response on the part of the hearer.
Right now I don’t even understand most of what the students tell me in rapid speak, but as my abilities increase, I hope I can learn patience from a God that has shown himself to be very patient with our continual crying out to him and faithful in responding. He even likes it! And as for me calling out the names of my students, well, they will just have to have patience with me as I keep asking, slowly, clearly, pronouncing every syllable, “What…is…your…name?”

2007-02-24T16:04:00.000-02:00

Tonight in church we sang the Spanish version of “Count Your Many Blessings.” The chorus literally translated: “BLESSINGS! How much you already have! BLESSINGS! God sends you more! BLESSINGS! You will be surprised when you see what God will do for you.” Ben was leading the singing and asked us to think of three blessings in our life. Immediately I thought of my roommate Emi. It took us a few weeks of some tense times to figure things out, but now it is so nice to have a leisurely lunch together every day, and take turns praying before the meal and washing dishes, and compliment each other’s cooking. We are both equally neat and go to bed about the same time. One sacrifice I have to make for her sake is that instead of just stuffing all the used grocery bags into another plastic bag, I have to neatly fold all of them, which I think is a total waste of time… it’s not like they look nice or are even more organized, they’re just plastic bags! Yesterday I tried to explain to her that cutting raw chicken on a wood cutting board and then slicing up the vegetables on the same board is a really terrible idea. So besides the fact that her cooking habits may one day be the cause of my contracting salmonella, Emi is a really big blessing in my life.
The second blessing I thought of was intentionally getting lost on my walk home from the grocery store today and coming upon a huge green space that I had never seen before. I have a huge hankering to be in the country somewhere, because even though there are lots of trees, and a few parks not far from my house, everything in the city is fairly dirty and ugly.
The third was the book I am currently reading through a couple pages a day, The Politics of Jesus, by John Howard Yoder. His thesis is that Jesus was deeply concerned with the agenda of politics and related issues of power, status, and right relations, a topic which has been in the forefront of my mind as I interact with the people here. I feel uncomfortable saying that I am powerful, but it’s true. And sometimes annoying, because it puts me in a position where I need to be very careful and responsible with what I have. “Use your power not to oppress others, but to help them.”
Speaking of power, I feel I have developed a tremendous capacity to sit for hours on end doing absolutely nothing. Sunday was a special day at church because it was the annual meeting of six AC churches from Paraguay. There are actually two other AC churches in Asuncion, one of them is only a 10 minute bus ride. Anyways, I sat through the two-hour church service with a sermon I didn’t understand because the preacher was dithering between Spanish in an impossible accent and native language of Guarani. We had a 15 minute break then another meeting about what all the churches did this year and are planning to do in the next, which seems like it would be exciting for me to hear, except that every pastor and treasurer had to preach a mini-sermon and it lasted another two hours. My brain was so overwhelmed that I didn’t listen to a single word. When this meeting was over I burst out the doors and ran laps around the church yard. In some ways though I think listening in a language you don’t understand is better than a really boring sermon, because then you can sit and think and aren’t distracted at all by what the preacher is saying.
My main reason for writing this blog is to say that I am actually excited to go to school and teach tomorrow. That was a fast answer to my prayer for joy. I am still very frustrated with two second graders, and my voice still pains me by 4:30 each, but it is awesome to hear the kids yelling “I speak English!!” and to watch them dancing and clapping while we sing “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands,” or best of all is when I run into students on the street, which happens every single day and I greet them and they respond to me in English and Oh! the look on their parents’ faces! I need to use Spanish to say that I have tantas ganas to buy a bike so I can tear around the neighbourhood with the kids. I am very blessed, I recognized this after the response I received when I posted my worries/complaints, and every day here if I just open my eyes. You are too because you get to read my great blogs!

2007-02-16T18:58:00.000-02:00

This blog entry will not be so emotional. Yes, my first week and a half of teaching went fairly poorly in general, but I admit there were some classes that I enjoyed and I think the kids learned a lot. I am going to write about my scheduale, not because I expect everyone to be interested in these details of my life but because a few people have asked and it’s easier than writing three emails. On Mondays Ben and I meet with the grade 10 students to give them practical experience with English language (i.e. work on pronunciation) and exposure to north American culture (I guess for those students who don’t already watch movies and listen to north American music). I want to look at some Andy Warhol paintings, have them memorize poetry and read Peanuts comics, Ben wants to teach them to sing “You are you my sunshine” and lots of slang, like “howdy.” I think all my readers should feel a sense of loss that they can’t be in this class, how fun!

After that I have what I think will probably be my favourite and most inspiring part of every week, which is our missionary meeting. We get all excited about projects we are working on and I get to pray in English!! I get the rest of the day to work on said projects and prepare for my week of teaching. I arrive at school at 6:30, the teachers have a devotional time together, and classes start at 7. I teach grade 1, grade 2, and grade 4 until 9:30, and on Thursdays until 10:10 because we have chapel that morning. All of my morning classes have about 20 students each; the grade 1 class is really cute and probably already has learned more than the grade 2 class which has 4 or 5 boys who apparently have never learned to sit in chairs. I love the grade 4 class because I already have good relationships with some of the kids, but at the same time they frustrate me the most because they never stop chatting. The afternoons I teach a kindergarten class that loves to colour and can pronounce English words better than all the others. Then I have a grade 2 class that right now has only five students and a grade 4 class with six students. Obviously my afternoons are a lot less stressful and one thing that encourages me to keep teaching is how well these students are going to be able to speak and understand.

In some ways I make a good teacher because I am a little silly and can entertain the kids, like when I made them practice saying (in Spanish) “teacher I don’t understand because your voice is funny-sounding” or “teacher my brain hurts because I don’t understand what you’re saying.” And I have so much sympathy for them trying to learn a new language, because I am in the same place. So it is not too difficult to teach, but it is very difficult to discipline without knowing Spanish. Most of the kids don’t care if they get in trouble in the first place, add the fact that I sound ridiculous trying to scold them, they just laugh at me. One student today remarked that we are supposed to be in a class of English but he thinks it is a class of laughter. Too bad it is not so funny for me most of the time.

I do think this is a funny story though. The other day my roommate Emi asked me what “like” means. Apparently even when I’m speaking Spanish I retain the terrible habit of inserting this work into every phrase…”so I was like…my class was like…” but in Spanish “estuve like…mi clase fue like…” I hope this doesn’t rub off on my students.

Yes, Paraguay did have Valentine’s day of a sort on February 14. Ben translated “Dia de los enamorados” as “day of the in-loves,” but of course an even more direct translation would be “day of the enamoured.” And if someone is not enamoured with you then you don’t get any cards. (Don’t worry, mom, I didn’t get presents.) It’s okay because they have a different day for celebrating friendship. I guess in Paraguay you have to be really sure if you are in love with someone or just friends. In the church they make an announcement for couples even before they have a date picked for the wedding; if you are going to be involved with someone, it is going to be public and serious. So it seems within our church at least, dating doesn’t really exist, they just have really long engagement periods. There is no room for messing around, I guess.

My favourite time of day this week has been walking to school in the early morning silence, except for the occasional rooster. It reminds me of when I used to take the bus to school in the winter, not only because it is still dark at 6:15 here, but also because there is a spot of concrete in our yard that is cracking a bit and kind of sounds like the really thin ice that I liked to break while I was waiting, to keep my mind off of how cold I was. I haven’t even had to time to worry or complain about the heat lately, as I have been too distracted by teaching.

2007-02-14T19:20:00.000-02:00

I’m always afraid of writing my blog when I am feeling extreme emotions, because it is almost certain that I will write something that I later regret. So take into account that as I write this I am fairly tired and have just finished a day of teaching. It’s been one week now, and if nothing else at least every student by now should understand the words “sit down” and “be quiet.” I’ve written previously of the surprisingly bad behaviour of the Paraguayan students, but now I am experiencing it first-hand, four days a week, six classes a day, by myself. It seems like an amazing schedule to have Mondays free and finish by 4:10, but it feels like I spend all my spare time worrying about my classes or over-preparing or biting my nails or eating because I am so stressed. I know that the past four months have flown by, but I just can’t fathom teaching like this for another ten months.

One might ask, “why don’t you just go home?” Well first of all, the school needs me, at least until they could find another English teacher. Secondly, I am too proud to admit I couldn’t do it and I don’t want all of you who read my blog and have prayed for me and paid for me to be able to here to think I am a quitter. Thirdly, I said I would stay for one year, and I want to keep my promise. But I think most importantly, this is something I have to do if I want to be true to myself and what I believe. For five years I studied the Bible and learned what it means to be a Christian. I wrote papers about social justice, I listened to lectures about God’s kingdom, I spoke passionately about wanting to help others less fortunate than myself. Now I am in an excellent place to do that, and I am finding it very difficult and want to get out of it. But I know that if I can’t humble myself to teach the little kids, and give up my rights to a comfortable lifestyle, and serve the poor and oppressed in this place, I will never be able to. What I need now is not a change of circumstance, but the realization that there is something beautiful in a simple life of love and service, it is, indeed, the way of the kingdom of God. When Jesus was preaching in Nazareth, he read from the Isaiah scroll:
The Spirit of the Lord is on me
Because he has anointed me
To preach good news to the poor
He has sent me
To proclaim freedom to the captives
And recovery of sight to the blind
To set free the oppressed
To proclaim the year of the Lord’s favour.
And afterwards he said, “today as you listen, this scripture has been fulfilled.” Because Jesus came and he showed us how a person could be totally unselfish and love others more than himself. And so the kingdom of God began, and it continues everyday that I count these children worthy of learning English, of having a second chance, of having a better life. This kingdom is furthered everyday that we don’t just consider ourselves and our feelings and our own families, but we put that energy into serving others. And so I’ve convinced myself for now that I need to stay, although probably by this time tomorrow I will be feeling sorry for myself and want to go home again. I need your encouragement and your prayers, and I need all of you to join me in my attempt to make some kind of difference. I want not only to have the strength to persevere, I want to be doing this with joy. And just so you know, it brings me much joy to think of you and the love we have for each other. Thank you so much.

This blog is dedicated to my teachers who persevered for my sake, and who said all those words about God’s kingdom that only now I am beginning to understand. Every time I read Luke 3:4-6 I will be reminded of Dr. David Williams. And Amos 5:24 “but let justice flow like water, and righteousness like and unfailing stream,” will not make me think of Martin Luther King Jr. but rather of Tyler’s Williams introductory OT class.

2007-02-05T18:06:00.000-02:00

On Friday I took the bus by myself for the first time, and I couldn’t have asked for a more adventurous journey. First I had to walk about 15 minutes just to get to the place where I catch the bus. It was about 5:30, when everyone was coming home from work, and the bus was so full that I could only get onto the first step. So there I was, hanging out the door, thankful to be free from the reek of body odour inside the bus, but hanging on for dear life as the driver dodged potholes, flew over speed bumps, and made abrupt stops. Eventually I was able to make my way to the rear of the bus, where it was more difficult to see where we were. I panicked and decided to get off and walk the rest of the way, which I figured couldn’t be that much farther. But it was. In flip-flops and the heat and carrying my bags, at least. Instead of paralyzing me however, this experience has given me a lot of confidence that given enough time, I can make it anywhere, and like Marlene says, the important thing is that I arrived.

I have written about being at Dario and Marlene’s house before, but I have to say again that they are really great hosts. So when Dario delivered a sermon on hospitality at church on Saturday night, I had no trouble trusting the messenger. The primary text was Genesis 18:1-8, and I feel inclined to give a synopsis. The story begins with Abraham sitting in the entrance of his tent during the heat of the day. I can envision Abraham as any one of the old Paraguayan men who sit in the shade in front of their house drinking terere between one and four in the afternoon. But when Abraham saw three strangers in the distance, he stood up and ran out to meet them and bowed to the ground. He begged them not to continue on until after they came to his house and washed their feet and rested under the tree. Genesis says he hurried into the tent and told his wife to quickly make some bread, then he ran and picked a choice calf and his servant hurried to prepare it, which Abraham served to his visitors with curds and milk. Two things are to be noted from Abraham’s hospitality: his alacrity and his generosity. Dario contrasted the spring in the step of old Abraham with the sluggish response of a teenager who has been asked to sweep the floor. He said “I will bring a bit of bread” but he brought out a feast. Imagine waiting while someone had to cook dinner starting with a live cow. I remembering Auntie Margret saying how generous my grandparents were and when a visitor showed up, grandma would go out into the yard and kill a chicken. This way, the chicken was being heated up before it even had time to cool down!!

In the end, Abraham found out that one of the visitors was the Lord, and I bet he was glad at that point that he didn’t just offer something from the candy dish. In Matthew 25 Jesus tells a story about how when the righteous people gave food and water to the hungry and took in strangers and clothed them or took care of sick people or visited people in prison, they were actually doing those things for the King, and to these hospitable people he grants eternal life. The Newsboys sing a catchy song based on Hebrews 13:2 which says “Don’t neglect to show hospitality, for by doing this some have welcomed angels as guests without knowing it.” And in Greek mythology we read about Bacchus and Philemon, who even though they are poor as dirt, offer all they have left to some raggedy-looking travelers, who in the end turn out to be divine guests. After their visitors leave, the old couple’s house turns into a mansion, they have a pitcher that contains nectar of the gods that never runs dry, and the inhospitable village down the road is turned into a lake from which they catch fish. They spend the rest of their lives serving the nectar and fish to guests, until they die on the same day and turn into trees that provide a shady resting place for weary travelers. Dario finished the sermon by saying that hospitality is actually a blessing to the host, as is demonstrated by all these stories that I just mentioned. God himself visits us, not just that one time at Christmas, but there is that familiar image of Jesus standing at the door and waiting to come in and be a blessing to anyone who is willing to invite him. I have been a recipient of much hospitality in Paraguay, and after that sermon I am especially inspired to open up my house to others. I mentioned in my blog before that I was looking for a different house, because ours is not only small and difficult to have company, but also expensive. The problem is that it is hard to find a good house in a safe place here. I finally contented myself with staying where we’re at, but I told my roommate we had talk to our landlady about the exorbitant rent. We were very nervous and prayed about it, telling God that we only wanted to pay a certain amount. And guess what? Not only did she lower our rent to that exact amount, she is also going to do some repairs and build an addition so that we have a living room. Some people have to travel a distance by bus to get to church and often I have sleepovers with some of the girls. My latest idea is at least once a month to invite all the young girls to my house, there are about 10 or so of us, on Saturday night. Our church is having a pretty exciting time in terms of youth events; Marlene and Karen started having all boys to their houses on Saturdays. Plus this Friday youth group starts, organized by Ben and Vivi. It’s nice for me to have so much stuff going on because when I am busy and spend so much time with people, I don’t just think about my family and get homesick. Hey! I just realized that today I have been in Paraguay for exactly 4 months. That is supposed to be the length of time it takes to feel comfortable speaking a new language. Good. Just in time for me to start teaching on Wednesday.

I dedicate this blog to Keith Freund who I think is a great host, who introduced me to using horseradish on veggie burgers, and who used to have a picture depicting Bacchus and Philemon as intertwining trees on his fridge.

2007-02-01T16:09:00.000-02:00

I feel like I haven’t written a blog for a very long time. Since I last wrote, I’ve passed my time being nervous about teaching, playing more ping-pong, trying to talk with people about more in-depth things like the history of the Jews, and learning about Dengue (I think that is how it’s spelled, and I’m pretty sure it is the same in English and Spanish.) There is a bit of an epidemic here, already seven people in Asunción have died. One lady in the church had it and she was pretty weak still on Sunday, almost two weeks after she got it, but is doing much better now. Monday was declared a national holiday in order for people to clean their homes, supposedly to prevent the dengue from spreading. The funny thing is that it actually comes from clean-water mosquitoes – probably someone just wanted to have the day off. I read once in Karen’s newsletter that she counted up the holidays and that Paraguay and the U.S. have the same amount. Not that I want to disagree with the wise woman who is my superior, but it seems to me like they have a lot more, and strange ones too: Day of the worker, a whole week for Easter, Day of the Founding of Asunción, Peace of the Chaco (a desert-like region with really salty earth and a whole bunch of Mennonites raise cattle), in addition to the normal ones like Independence day, and they actually take seriously the days for celebrating Friendship, Health, Trees and the national anthem. But before we judge the things other countries choose to take note of, I think all of us need to consider the significance of Groundhog Day. Over the last couple of days I’ve tried to explain the meaning of February Second in North American to some very confused people. In the first place, I have a real fat Spanish dictionary, but I don’t know if the Spanish-speaking world is aware of such an animal, which I have chosen to call a rat-type rodent that lives underground. Secondly, there is the problem that no matter if the groundhog sees his shadow or not, there will always be at least six more weeks of winter in Edmonton, and probably more like nine. Nevertheless, I still think “Groundhog Day” is a great movie. I would appreciate it if someone could tell me if there actually is one reliable groundhog and where the mythology for this day comes from.
The teachers returned to school today. It was very exciting to have lots of new people, because we needed to meet more requirements in order to have tenth grade. For example, there is even a psychology teacher that comes one day a week for two hours. I thought perhaps they must had a hard time finding her, but Karen said they had the most trouble with finding a Christian math teacher. So just a reminder that it would be nice if all Christians could spend four years studying religion and theology like me, but we really need Christian psychologists and politicians and architects and math teachers, people to be salt and light in all these fields that have so much influence in society. I haven’t talked to him yet, but I think my favourite new teacher will be the loud, skinny, six-and-half-foot-tall, ex-cab driver, history and social sciences teacher. He appears to be not only very intelligent but very lively, and enthusiastic about teaching. I am a bit stressed out of my brain because right now there are only 3 students in the kindergarten class I am teaching and I haven’t even gotten my schedule, but Ben reminded me that we are in Paraguay and not to worry because probably people will just decided to show up at the school on the first day to register their kids. For some grades we don’t even know yet if we will have one or two classes. Efficient-Ellen is going nuts over how we are going to be able to have the right number of textbooks and normal sized classes; it’s a good thing I have a lot of faith in our leadership and I was able to see the school running smoothly last year.
Speaking of efficiency, I feel like I spread a lot of my North American way of thinking this week. I taught Marcelo how to measure out the rope first to make the lines on a volleyball court as opposed to just eyeballing everything, I took a couple kids to the park one day and taught them about the woes of littering, and today over lunch I informed my roommate that Abraham Lincoln was not the first president of the “E.E.U.U.,” but rather it was a man named George Washington. Pardon me if it sounds like I am making fun of the way people do things here; Of course some things are really different, but some things they do much better. For instance, last night we had a snack after church, and instead of everyone lining up at the table, a few of the ladies walked around with plates of food. I enjoyed making the rounds and refilling pop because I could make chat with lots of people. I also think it is very efficient to share cups, and I like how they wash all the dishes first and rinse them all at once afterwards. Here you never have to walk more than one or two blocks to buy anything essential (in Paraguay, this includes empanadas, cooking oil, pop, cookies and yerba) because there is a store on almost every corner. In addition, there are guys that drive carts full of pineapples or mandioca and make their presence known with loudspeakers which distort their voice almost to the point of unrecognizable speech. (Today I asked for dos piñas and right away the man said “two!two!” in English, which proves Karen right that people can instantly tell I am not from here, “just from the way you walk” she says.) And of course the ice-cream man comes by every day with his whistle. I could easily survive within a three-block radius, which probably lots of people do when it’s just too hot to walk any distance.
Hmm...I guess I always have things to write about even when it didn’t seem like my week was so exciting. From now on I will probably have stories about kids doing really bad or really cute things in the classroom. Happy Groundhog Day everyone, and just so everyone knows, I do get homesick, but if I had make a choice, I want to be here looking out my window at the palm tree across the street and with my fan on and getting ready to be an English teacher, and right now leaving to go and get ice cream with my friends.

2007-01-26T18:00:00.000-02:00

This week has been a strange fusion of childhood and adulthood for me. On the one hand I played hours of Phase 10 (a card game), volleyball and ping-pong (so much so that I was dreaming of ping-pong). On Monday the boys and I made a fire and roasted hot dogs and made s’mores and slept outside. It was a really beautiful evening and the smoke from the fire went straight up and we left the fly off so we could lie in the tent and watch stars. Tuesday night there was a ping-pong tournament and with all my practice I managed to grab 4th place. It was a fundraiser to buy drums for the church and/or a band that a group of boys from the church put together. They made a whole $5 in entry fees. Wednesday we took a drive through the countryside and climbed a big rocky hill, and I realized again that I’m living in a botanical paradise. Paraguay doesn’t have mountains, but in certain places there is a single hill or a gathering of a few big bumps that rise out of the landscape, and I think they are just beautiful. The boys and I went searching for caves, but our quest ended after Brandon got stung by what they called a bee but looked like more of a small bird to me. Then we had a picnic lunch in the park. It seems like wherever we are, walking down to the river, hiking up a hill, eating in the park, Oscar finds some kind of food to eat off the trees. I was introduced to guayaba, which I think is probably guava fruit, and then when I came home I realized I have it five feet away from my door. Every few minutes I hear one drop from the tree. I just got home from a BBQ with about 4 families from the church, and now I am ready to start working again. So I had a lot of fun playing this week, which got me in a good mood to start teaching and being with kids.
But I also feel more maturity and responsibility being placed on me than ever before. For one thing, I am looking for a new place to live. I think I would like the just rent one of the many empty lots with huge trees and live off all their fruit and stay in a tent. It is kind of frustrating looking for a house because there is no Craig’s List or Bargin Finder; right now my method of house-shopping is also my daily exercise of running up and down the streets. My other grown-up task at the moment is helping Karen write up about the new building project and make a brochure. I am totally excited about it and am convinced that you all will want give lots of money to the school after you read the brochure, hopefully in 3 or 4 weeks. I think having this project to work on and the missions manual are two things that I can set my mind to and they give me a sense of purpose and help me not to be homesick.
Ahem, I have an announcement to make. I finally gave in a got a Nokia cell phone. It only cost $40 and I am on a plan with it seems most everyone from the church that I would ever need to talk to so I can call or text-message them practically free. I am very nervous that people from here will try to call me, because it is one thing to have a difficult conversation in person and it is another thing to try and understand each other over the phone. Everyone had a good time yesterday impersonating me trying to talk on the phone in Spanish… “uuuhhh Hola? Soy Ellen! uuhhh…no entiendo!que?” I never wanted to have a cell phone, and it is strange to me that here where there is so little well-developed infrastructure and up-to-date technology is where I really have learned to appreciate my camera and the internet, and I know I will appreciate being able to have my family call me.
I have learned a lot about prayer since I came here, and I think I’m starting to figure out why these people pray so fervently and frequently. When I am at home in North America, I feel pretty much like I can work to change things and improve my circumstances. It doesn’t always feel the same here. Even looking for a house, it seems like it depends more on luck and being at the right place at the right time, than any kind of vigilant searching. Because the opportunities are not as great, there is always only so much that one can do. And then all that’s left to do is to ask God to help. Except here they already know that so they just start by asking God. Yesterday a friend gave me a cheesy little card showing a picture of a teddy bear with a big red nose, but the silly picture does not match the seriousness of the quotation, which says something like “more has been accomplished in the world by those who pray than those who combat, and if the world is bad, it’s because there are more battles than prayers.” I know I can be very skeptical when it comes to the power of my prayers, but I am glad to be learning about prayer that can bring peace in my life. So I PRAY that you too can give up the battle to God and be free of unnecessary striving and violence in your life. In connection with them, I may as well mention that the high humidity here pretty much makes it impossible for me to wear my hair any way except in a tight ponytail. I always said before that I have a good understanding of not being in control because if I can’t control my hair, then what can I expect to control? Well, that is especially true for me here I guess. Sorry for discussing my hairstyle and prayer in the same paragraph. I just wanted to let you know I feel very at peace. Even with a having a cell phone when I said I never would.

2007-01-22T10:45:00.001-02:00

School starts in two weeks and I think everyone realizes that and is trying to enjoy the rest of summer vacation while it lasts. I spent a lot of time reading and visiting with people this week after three really boring days of trying to get more prep work done for school. On Tuesday we did a little outreach program at my friend Carolina´s house for the neighbourhood kids. They called it, to the delightful snickers of me and Ben¨Hora feliz¨ or ¨Happy Hour.¨ I think it was tremendously sucessful, very much due to the presence of pop, cookies, and four charasmatic clowns; I was a kind of dumb clown with a cone-shaped head and Ben was a grumpy old man who poked the kids with his broom. It was indeed a very happy hour and I probably enjoyed learning the songs and actions in spanish just as much as any of the kids there.
My best memories of this week are the times spent with Pastor Dario and his wife Marlene. I ate lunch there for the past two Sundays and spent all day Friday helping to prepare for a ping pong tournament. We were expecting about 20 or more people to compete and I made a big poster organzing the tournament with rules and eveything, and we even got a small trophy and some medals. Everyone would pay a 2,500 Guarani entry fee (about 50 cents) and the money was going towards a drum kit for the band that 5 or 6 of the boys from the church put together. Unfortunately there was huge storm and the electricity went out, so instead we sang and played games around the table and it was really fun anyways. I taught them how to play Phase 10, a card game that my mom and sister sent me, and we played it until I was totally sick of it. Dario and Marlene are not the wealthiest people, but their are so very rich in hospitality and I am looking forward to going there again tomorrow, when we will have a second attempt at the tournament.
I kind of laughed at the ping pong table when I first saw it, because it is just a big board that someone painted green and they set it atop of four ricketey chairs. But since then I have also seen kids playing volleyball with their feet/chest/head (piki volley) with an old cable strung across the yard, and other kids playing with part of a broken bench set on two stumps. They have to be very innovative here. I guess it´s not a big deal to not have great spots equipment, but I feel sad when I see kids who so badly want to play music but don´t have access to an instrument and can´t take lessons. And it makes me regret all the times when I fought with my mom over not wanting to practice piano, a talent I am so glad to have now. I want to help the band, ¨Harvester¨to raise money for the drums, which we would also use at church. (English names for a band or english writing on t-shirts are really popular, as well as english graffiti which frequently contains errors in grammar and I always take pictures of it; poorly spelled english graffiti is becoming somewhat of my specialty in my photo album. Harvester made t-shirts and on the back it says something like ¨a brite in the night¨I think a poor translation of that verse in Isaiah). So there is a light shining here in Paraguay and it brings a lot of hope: Hope for a building addition to the school, a drum set, a website, computers, and all kinds of material things. But most of all the refrain goes ¨Paraguay for Jesus¨and we hope that people´s lives can be turned around through our witness in the neighbourhood. People like the guys who hang out on the corner between my house and church and get drunk at 3 in the afternoon and make fun of me in ways I don´t want to write about in my blog.

2007-01-22T10:45:00.000-02:00

2007-01-15T16:26:00.000-02:00

I’m back from the Big (pine)Apple! I just thought of that nickname now, since an easy way for me to describe Buenos Aires is as the New York City of South America. (I once called Paraguay the North Dakota of South America, and I still hold to that.) There are about 15 million people in the metropolitan area, anywhere you turn there is a hot dog or newspaper stand, and the people dress fashionably and are serious and in a hurry like in any big city. It even has a subway system, which is kind of scary because it’s so old and creaky. In some ways Buenos Aires is extraordinary because although it’s a big city, it’s not a concrete jungle; it seems there is a park every couple of blocks and big trees lining the streets. The downtown is not giant skyscrapers but rather lots of interesting old buildings. But of course in true South American style there was garbage all over and the buildings, though possessing beautiful exteriors, were often in states of disrepair, such as the apartment that we stayed in with my friend’s aunt. Luckily, I didn’t spend much of my time in the apartment, except when I was tired in the late afternoon and I would happily pass the time watching English news on the television. The friend that I went with, Maria Teresa, grew up in the city, she’s 35 years old and speaks about 5 words in English. One day we went to the zoo though with her brother and sister-in-law and that was really great, mostly though she just wanted to go shopping the whole time or stay at home. So for the last three days I was free to roam the city by myself, and not being permitted to take the bus, I put a lot of miles on my flip-flops. It was great because the aunt lived only 3 blocks away from the central downtown area.
In some ways living in Asunción reminds me of my first two years of college in Saskatchewan: a limited wardrobe, less food options, small living space, no reading lamp, and yet I was very content then, and am now. I don’t think this is just a coincidence. Away at college, I didn’t watch TV and never saw any billboards or newspaper advertisements which would make me want to buy stuff, and besides, there was one only restaurant and our school bookstore where I could spend money if I wanted. When I went home for Christmas after the first semester and saw all the excessive materialism that had been missing from my life, South Edmonton Commons literally made me sick to my stomach. In Buenos Aires for the first couple of days, I was overwhelmed by the urge to buy all kinds of stuff that I never would have thought of while in Paraguay. I wanted white Argentinean slippers, Converse high-tops, a Che Guevara T-shirt, magnets of tango dancers, new dresses, a hot dog at 10 in the morning or dulce de leche cakes after I’d just eaten a big lunch. Then I realized it was just all the “propaganda” (the word for “advertisement” in Spanish) that was working its magic on me, and after buying a pair of Nike running shoes, I only looked to buy books. My favourite place I found was one round room with tall windows and the walls covered bookshelves from floor to ceiling. It was run by an old man who had crazy Albert Einstein hair and met Jorge Luis Borges when he was ten years old. He could speak a little English, and he told me all kinds of things about his city and showed me his special collection of old books, and then as a parting gift he gave me a book of easy Spanish plays. It is nice to have the book, and the new shoes, but I realize that the most valuable things I took back home were my experiences of the city, and memories of the people I met, like the bored security guard at the museum or the little lady next to me on the park bench.
I got along fabulously with Maria Teresa’s family, and got many invitations to come back and visit during winter holidays. Her aunt gave me a little book and I found a poem by the famous Chilean poet Pablo Neruda that I feel sums up my trip quite well. Here is an except from “¿Quién muere?” (“Who dies?”):
“He dies slowly… / that does not revive his memories and continue to move himself with them / as though he were living it at that moment, / who does not travel, nor read, nor hear music, / who does not speak with someone he doesn’t know, / who does not lend himself to help. / Let us avoid death in small shares, remembering always / that to be alive requires and effort much greater / than the simple act of breathing.”
So in some ways it was very difficult to travel with someone I didn’t know that well, and when I didn’t understand the language, and felt lost most of the time, but I am glad that I traveled and read and met new people and saw new things. On a side note, I also invented a joke in Spanish, of which I am quite proud. Do you know those kind of jokes that start with “what do you call a man…?” for example, Q:What do you call a man lying on the floor in front of a door? A: Matt (mat) or Q:What do you call a man standing in a hole with a shovel? A: Doug (dug). My personal favourite is Q: what do you call a woman with one leg shorter than the other? A: Eileen (I lean). (What do you think of that one, Auntie Eileen? I always think of you when I tell it). So mine in Spanish is requires that you know “sin” is the word for “without” and “tía” means “aunt.” Q: what do you call a girl of whom neither of her parents have sisters? A: Cynthia, which in Spanish is spelled Cíntia. The accent is in the wrong place, but it’s funny, trust me, because everyone I told it to so far has laughed. I though of that joke because it is the name of Maria Teresa’s sister-in-law.
It was nice to have a surrogate family in Buenos Aires, but it was also nice to return to my church family here. At the same time, I realized I wasn’t really coming home, and I got quite homesick on the bus ride back. I arrived only half an hour before church started on Sunday morning and was very tired and I barely understood the sermon, so I was even sadder. But then Oscar handed me a handful of Christmas cards from my family that finally made it here, at just the time I really needed the encouragement!! So I gratefully dedicate this blog to my Sabo relatives who I love and miss dearly. Special thanks to Auntie JoAnn, Dean and Teresa and their kids, and Tymen and Caroline’s family, Bella (I can’t believe you’re pregnant!), Ed, Dawn and Aurora, and Auntie Barb and all the rest who were at the Millwoods Christmas Party. Auntie Margret, in regards to your question as to what to do with my candy cane, I think it will be okay to save until next year if you can hold on to it for that long!

2007-01-04T11:50:00.000-02:00

Feliz Aňo Nuevo!!
New year’s here is basically the same as Christmas: tons of firecrackers and a big meal served at midnight, two things very bad for your health, in my opinion. People tell me that every year lots of kids are in the hospital with injured or missing limbs and eyeballs. I saw a boy sneak up behind some girls and stick a firecracker in their midst, and it went off before I had time to warn them. It is kind of sad because I think the people here would love a real fireworks show but of course the city officials don’t put one on. (warning: this entry is very cynical of people who work for the Paraguayan government. A joke from my dad: what does a government employee and a broken gun have in common? Neither of them work and they can’t be fired.) I watched from the second story of the Caballero’s house, but mostly it was just lots of noise and smoke. I also think the big meal at midnight is funny because you are basically starting out the year with a terrible eating habit, while all of North America is vowing to eat healthier. I’ve been asking people if they make new year’s resolutions, but I’ve only found one lady so far, who doesn’t write them down, which makes me think she doesn’t take it very seriously. I already told my family I don’t have to make any because I am totally preoccupied with self-improvement every day of the year.
Let me tell you something about the Paraguayan postal service: besides being almost non-existent, what they do have is terrible! Ben and Vivi had to deliver all their wedding invitations by hand. Only a very few people have international post office boxes. Oscar has one which he checks every week, and one day he got a notice that there was a package for me, but he needed my visa information to get it. He came back later the same day, only to find out that they sent the package back “because he took too long to come and get it.” I totally don’t trust any of the post office workers. Basically anyone who works for the government here can be compared to the tax collectors in the Bible; No one likes or trusts them, they often have houses and cars that are much too extravagant for their incomes, and lots of them have private security guards, like the judge that lives by my house, I guess because it is easy for them to make enemies. Anyways, I finally got the Christmas card that my mom sent a month ago, and she wrote that she hoped I would be able to celebrate the true meaning of Christmas, since people here probably don’t know about Frosty the Snow Man or make such a big deal about Santa. And it’s true. I went to a mall five days before Christmas and they had a few trees and decoration, but other than that there were no other signs of the season and it wasn’t very crowded. First of all, nothing EVER goes on sale in Paraguay, except maybe stale crackers. The grocery store still has Christmas decorations out and tons of fruitcake and there isn’t even a 10% discount! Secondly, virtually no one can actually afford to shop in the mall. I don’t understand it, because people don’t make very much money by North American standards, but the clothes in the mall and any electronic items or household appliances are the same as American prices. For example, a small sandwich maker is $40. Probably the only people buying them work for the government! Most people do their shopping in street markets. But even then, I don’t think most people buy Christmas presents, at least, no one that I talked to received a Christmas present. I didn’t have to feel left out then, with no family to exchange presents with. It’s all about the food. So without the commercialism and presents and reindeer are Paraguayans able to better celebrate the true meaning of Christmas? I think it’s good that they focus a lot of spending time together, I would say this is a strength of Paraguayan society year-round. At midnight on New Year’s Eve it was fun to watch all the people go around to the neighbours’ houses to greet one another. At the same time, I would not exactly describe any of their festivities as contemplative or serene, which I felt like I was missing out on. The one pious thing that people do is put out offering by their (usually gawdy) nativity scenes. As far as I know, everything is over after Christmas eve, they are finished celebrating by the next day. Usually people go to the church on the 25th, but rather than for a church service, they go to play soccer! I celebrated the first day of the year by playing volleyball at church.
Enough about holidays until Easter, for which we get a whole week-long vacation! Speaking of vacations, I am leaving on Saturday for Buenos Aires. I am taking the bus with my friend Maria Teresa, who is originally from Argentina, and has our tourist itinerary for the week all planned out. I am a little worried because the bus that Ben’s parents took to Brazil got in an accident and rolled. His sister (who was getting married four days later) was knocked unconscious and her fiancée suffered a large gash on his face, but I guess the wedding still took place. Then two days later the bus that Ben and Vivi were taking to Brazil broke down and they had to wait and switch buses. But it should be okay, because the Lonely Planet Guide book says that Buenos Aires is one of the safest (and also one of the most beautiful) South American cities. I’ll tell you all about it when I get back!!

2006-12-26T12:17:00.000-02:00

Who here thinks Christmas is a stressful time of year? What about if you had a kid was getting married three days before Christmas? And how much more stressful would it be if you had two kids getting married a week apart in two different countries five thousand miles away from home and your whole family was going down for the weddings and needed places to stay and ways to get around foreign cities where no one speaks the same language? On top of that, there’s some missionary girl who wants to spend the holidays with your family and the night before Christmas eve she gets a stomach illness that causes her to spend the whole night throwing up. I wasn’t the first person to get sick either; Ben’s brother-in-law, P.J. got so sick after the family flew into Brazil that they took an overnight bus instead…which was unfortunate, because they needed every single moment before the wedding to buy clothes for groomsmen, rent a huge 9 passenger van (which we usually stuffed 11 or 12 people into), clean the duplex that they were going to stay in, etc. It rained on and off for almost three days, right up until the time of the wedding, which started over an hour and a half late because no one showed up until then. The next day again we were worried about getting Judah to the airport on time, and after that, we had to rush and buy paint before everything closed for Christmas in order to fix up the newlyweds’ apartment. That night I painted until 11 at night and then came home and got sick. The next day we rushed again to get the rental van back in time and buy bus tickets, and then Christmas day (today) half the family left for Brazil. During this whole time, we had no stove or fridge in the place we were staying (I moved in with Ben’s family because Vivi’s family was staying at my house), not to mention that providing food for a dozen people at any time can be difficult. Plus there were the typical Paraguayan obstacles, such as ant infestations and broken showers. Thankfully the electricity never went out.

I am being very selective in the facts I am divulging. That is to let you know that Christmas joy need not depend on favourable circumstances. You have to believe me now when I say that the wedding turned out fabulously and I think was highly enjoyed by all, especially the bride and groom. We ate cake AND cookies AND ice cream, my sweet tooth was overly-satisfied. Ben’s family was tons of fun and had a good time together and I got to share in all the love. P.J. brought me a new Eugene Peterson book, we watched “Fiddler on the Roof” together, and when I got sick Aunt Heidi gave me Pepto Bismal. Christmas dinner consisted of egg-roll filling and cucumber salad, but for dessert Ben and I were afforded the special treat of homemade cheesecake for Christmas eve (Cream cheese is unavailable here). I cried a little on Christmas eve because I missed my family, but Ben’s sister Amy hugged me and let me know that this was her fourth Christmas in Paraguay, and the first time she was with her family. My favourite memory from this Christmas is being stuffed into a van and singing Christmas carols; The Shurances have excellent voices and they all knew lots of verses to all the songs, even “Silent Night” in German. I got lots of hugs and everyone always made me feel very appreciated (my love language=words of affirmation), plus I enjoyed speaking in my mother tongue and making jokes and getting lots of attention!! Everyone already set off tons of firecrackers at midnight on Christmas eve, I wonder what New Years will be like?

2006-12-19T19:46:00.000-02:00

It’s less than a week before Christmas. I haven’t wrapped a single present. I have no plans to consume any turkey, mashed potatoes, cheese fondue, Schneider’s summer sausage or chocolate Turtles. (No chocolate whatsoever, actually. They don’t really have good chocolate here, or if they do I wouldn’t know because a chocolate bar costs more than 2 meals worth of meat.) And there is a zero percent chance of having a white Christmas. Instead of buying gifts, I guess everyone just shares a bunch of food. I have to admit, I have developed a find liking for fruitcake here, it’s so yummy and soft and sweet. And since I’m listening to Handel’s Messiah right now, I don’t feel like I’m totally missing out on the holiday season. Of course it’s terribly difficult to be away from family, but since HOPE is such an important “Christmas word” I console myself by thinking about how extra wonderful it will be to be together a year from now.

Another Christmas word, somewhat less used than HOPE, is KENOSIS. It refers to the self-emptying of Christ which began when he took on human form, continued throughout his life as he repeatedly denied himself in order to serve others, and culminated in his sacrificial death on a cross. All Christians are called to follow this example of humbling ourselves. Not that I particularly thought of this as one of my reasons for coming to Paraguay, but two times this week I was especially struck by what a disadvantage I have put myself by coming here. The first was during a Bible class when people were taking turns going around the circle reading, and I got skipped over. And to think that back home I used to do the Bible reading in front of the whole church every Sunday. I went straight from the top to the bottom. The other time was at a college graduation ceremony that I went to with my roommate. Instead of giving a speech I had to use all my efforts just to grasp what the speakers were talking about. At times this week I wanted to go home because I felt useless, like I was being a burden, like I have no significance here, like I am incapable of helping anyone, etc. But in the end it was decided that maybe I have become small, unimportant, foolish and weak in order that God’s wisdom and power can be made manifest in my life. Little by little it is becoming clear that any skills or knowledge I possess are quite meaningless if I don’t first recognize that God does whatever God wants, and uses whomever he pleases. I am deeply humbled. And sometimes it feels like low self-esteem.

A few more notes on how I’ve been passing my time. I started to read “The Great Divorce” in Spanish until I realized the anti-logic of reading such a writer as C.S. Lewis in translation, what with his supreme command of the English language. Instead, I read “Our Town,” once on my own, and then Ben and Judah and I performed a dramtic reading of the play for one another, which was really fun. My favourite quotation? From Mrs. Gibbs: “Only it seems to me that once in your life before you die you ought to see a country where they don’t talk in English and don’t even want to!” …which does not pertain to Paraguay, because the people here do want to learn, at least it seems that way about most everybody but the poorly behaved second-grade class. If I don’t write again this week, MERRY CHRISTMAS everybody!!! and don’t get all caught up in turkey or ribbons because I don’t have any of that here and it’s still quite fun!!

2006-12-12T20:10:00.001-02:00

Read Bens comment from December 4 if you want to know how you can see my house from space.

2006-12-12T20:10:00.000-02:00

I’m going to add a little bit to the discussion on money that I started last week, since one of my primary forms of entertainment is still to go to the supermarket and look at prices. Here is an except that might be of interest to you, taken from “The Essential Handbook for Short-Term Missions: Produced exclusively for service at Iglesia Nazarena Apostólica Cristiana and Centro Educativo Adonai in Asunción, Paraguay” (that’s just the working title, doesn’t it make you want to read it?)

Empanada (staple snack): 1,500 Gs ($.30)

Potatoes: 2,000 Gs per Kilo ($.40)

City bus ride: 2,100 Gs ($.40)

2 Liter Pop: 3,000 Gs ($.60)

Toothpaste (90 g): 4,000 Gs ($.80)

Notebook: 5,000 Gs ($1)

Lunch at church: 5,000 Gs ($1)

Camp T-shirt: 20,000 Gs ($4)

Thermos: 35,000 Gs. ($7)

Long-distance bus ride: 50,000 Gs. ($10)

Propane tank fill (10 L): 50,000 Gs. ($10)

Desk: 150,000 Gs ($30)

Cell Phone: 300,000 Gs ($60)

Bed (good mattress): 500,000 Gs. ($100)

There is a minimum wage set here, about $200 a month. It’s not much but definitely enough for a single person to live on (my rent is $30 a month and I pay around $50 for food). The sad part is that three-quarters of the people actually make less than minimum wage, because it is not enforced by the government (this sounds like an exaggeration, but I read it in The Lonely Planet Guidebook, a very reputable source, and it is also confirmed by trusted others), and therefore not enough to live on. I was talking with a lady from the church who wants to get into social work, and she told me that there are more than 15,000 homeless children in this city of about 600,000 people and she blames it mostly on the corrupt government and a lack of education.

In some ways I am starting to believe that there could indeed be human sacrifices carried out atop of Cerro Lambaré or on Halloween and the authorities not knowing or caring enough to do anything about it. Lots of times the police just come and park their truck on the corner by my house and sit around drinking tereré. At least they don’t eat donuts and get fat like N.A. police, haha. And I know that traffic violations are rarely enforced, which is why I greatly prefer walking, or as Ben says, taking the linea 11 (Get it? 11, like you have two legs?).

On Wednesday Judah Weinhardt from Phoenix arrived to visit for awhile before the wedding. I think his first impressions of Paraguay must be very extreme. First of all, our church camp started the day after he arrived – three full days of spending lots of time with people and sitting in on Bible classes, difficult things to do when you don’t understand Spanish. It works well for me though because not only do I have someone to speak English with, I am also getting lots of practice translating. The first night of camp there was a torrential rain storm, like nothing I’ve ever seen. I thought it was fun because we were all at the church and of course the electricity was out so we just sat in the dark telling riddles and listening to people play guitar. But then I found out that it was nothing like anyone else had ever seen either, and we started to get worried when the water started coming into the classrooms. Thankfully it let up soon after that, but since the floors were a little wet I had a woman from the church and her daughter come sleep over at my house. One thing I really like about the people here are how easy-going they are; it seems like they will just sleep anywhere, fitting two or three people on a single mattress, with no need for pillows or pajamas. We stayed up late talking, but I finally called it quits after about an hour of the dumbest dumb-blond jokes I have ever heard.

Camp was a little low-key because usually they have one-hundred or more people that come from other churches, but I guess the biggest of those decided to have their own camp this year. I thought it was nice that almost everyone in our church had time to come for the whole weekend. On Friday it was a national holiday for the Virgin of Caacupe. Thousands of people made a pilgrimage to Caacupe, some leaving even on Monday or Tuesday and spending the whole week walking to Caacupe. So I’m glad at this point not to be catholic, because instead I got to play volleyball and eat great meals with all my friends! Although I regret not being more informed on exactly why so many people went there and how far away it is.

Speaking of being informed, on Sunday I had a chance to read a newspaper in a bakery while Ben and Vivi shopped for wedding cookies. I’m not sure if it was a high-end newspaper, but the “world section” was exactly three pages long. It had great pictures in the entertainment section though. I’ll tell you about an interesting piece of local news. Last year a fire started in a big supermarket, and the owners didn’t want all the customers to run out with their un-purchased food so they locked the doors. It ended up costing them more money in the end however, because some 400 people died and they had to go to court over the matter. This week it was decided that the owners whose decision it was to lock the doors would get two years in prison. Some people were so upset with the lenient sentence that they burned down another one of the supermarkets in the chain!! Generally people tend to not exercise a whole lot of caution with fire. One day someone that lives across the street from the church decided to light a huge pile of trash and yard debris on fire, and it also burned down half a mango tree. Composting is unheard of; almost every day someone from the neighborhood has a big stinky fire burning, even today when it’s over 30 degrees!

This entry is dedicated to Tennille, so that she knows how much money to bring when she comes to visit!!

2006-12-06T16:50:00.000-02:00

This entry marks a new epoch in the life of my blog. My family has been encouraging me from the beginning, telling me that it’s not boring and they hang on to every word, but this week I realized that there more than 50 people reading this and ones that I don’t even know. Now I am even more humbled (i.e. embarrassed) than I was previously. I hope I still write honestly and don’t worry too much about who’s reading it. It’s good though because now I feel pressured to spend more time and write well, as opposed to the usual stream of consciousness. By the way, if my diction seems strange and a little bombastic, it may be because I’m starting to use more and more Spanish-English cognates. Probably when I go back home for a little while until I get accustomed to it (see? I said “accustomed to it” instead of “used to it”), I will say “a moment please” instead of “hold on a sec,” or that something was realized instead of saying it happened.

Here are some things about Paraguay that are interesting and neutral and suitable for a broad audience. First of all, I think I wrote before that out of all the capital cities in the world, Asunción is the cheapest place to live. I read that a person can live here and pay one-sixth the amount for the same standard of living in New York. When you think about it though, the comparison is someone ludicrous – you can’t just base it on money. One of the best things about Paraguay is the free sunshine and lush vegetation. You can’t grow pineapples in your backyard in New York. As well, even in the downtown area, it seems like there is so much space. Everyone has a yard and there are not very many tall buildings.

Conversely, there are many things Asunción doesn’t have that you could do in New York. This became very apparent to me the day that my roommate and I watched “The Chorus” (a French film in the style of Mr. Holland’s Opus about a man who goes to teach at a school for troubled boys, but a million times better) and were listening to the choral music playing at the end while the credits were showing. She said to me “Oh yes, I like this kind of music. I went to a concert once and it was wonderful.” ONCE she had the opportunity to go and hear professional live music, and who knows if it was even very good or not? I thought about the myriads of times I have attended musicals or other plays and concerts and how much richness it has brought to my life, and I was sad that the people here don’t have the opportunity to appreciate things like that.

There’s an implicit sermon in that last sentence but I’ll just make it explicit: if you live in a big city in North America, you’re really lucky to have access to good art and music. One of the more uppity malls in the downtown always has a little art display. The art I saw was fairly weak, but Ben said last time he went it was really good, but still no one seemed to care about it. All this concern for good taste trickles down into everything from clothing to perfume to table settings. I feel extremely snobby writing this, but the Paraguayan style is pretty ridiculous. In a way it works out well for me because I am a missionary without a lot of money and this way I am never tempted to buy anything.

Maria, in response to your question, there are movie theatres here. I’ve asked about them and have been told that it is a popular past-time more or less, but by evidence of the fact that I have never seen one nor heard anyone ever suggest “hey why don’t we go watch a movie?” I think it is safe to draw the conclusion that there are not hundreds or people crowding a theatre on a Friday night. Ben said part of it is that by the time movies or concerts end, the busses aren’t running anymore, so you either have to have a car or take a taxi, which is “expensive” and thus the people are separated into classes, if they weren’t already by those who able to afford the price of entry to the event. But even so, there just aren’t as many entertainment options available. As far as I know, this capital city with about 600,000 people has one bowling alley. And no ice rinks!

The major source of revenue for the country comes from the hydroelectric plants along the rivers. However, in the past week there have been two major power outages. Karen thinks that the people in charge do it on purpose to conserve electricity (just like how they also make it so people can use the water in her neighbourhood during peak hours of the day). The first time it happened back in October it made me cry because it must have been the hottest day and we couldn’t use the fan and my sister had just called on the phone but she was cut off. On Friday night we were practicing music for the weekend church services when all of a sudden the keyboard stopped working and all the lights went out. The bad part is that it can be very dangerous and a lot of looting goes on. I was running down the street to catch up with the others who were walking some girls to the bus stop when I totally tripped on the “sidewalk” and gashed my toe. (I put sidewalk in quotation marks because their existence is unreliable, even on main streets, but sometimes people have concrete alongside their fence.) Then again today I was at the cabinas and just about to use the internet when the fans stopped working and the computers were silenced. It turned out fortunately enough though, because I got to sit and talk with the ladies there while we waited.

To me, occasional power outages or the lack of a movie theatre aren’t very big sacrifices, because I am very entertained in other ways, plus I only plan on staying for another year. But I wonder what effect it has on the society as a whole. Are the people worse off because they can’t hear a full orchestra playing the hallelujah chorus or see original etchings by Picasso? How sorry should I feel that my friends don’t get to watch a live production of “Fiddler on the Roof?” Not to mention that that the good movies they do get to watch are all dubbed or in subtitles (usually with more boring formal language). I feel like these experiences have largely shaped who I am and made me a better person. The three hours I spent in the Winspear Centre listening to Handel’s Messiah were the three best hours I ever spent in mediation on the greatness and goodness of God. I am very grateful that God has given humans creative abilities and that we have the luxury of time for such things. The Paraguayans entertainment is playing and watching sports, and drinking terere and talking, which may or may not be very beneficial for inspiring one’s soul. (I heard some jokes here for the first time this week. I think Paraguayan humor is pretty lame. It might just be because I don’t share the same cultural knowledge, but I’m pretty sure it’s because the people will laugh at anything. I know this, because I told them this joke and it went over WAAAYY too well: A horse walks into a bar, and the bartender says, “why the long face?”) The characters present in jokes are a Paraguayan, and Argentinean, and a Brazilian. I think they are most prejudiced against Argentineans, because Paraguay is really “back-country” whereas Argentina is very European and snooty.) I guess the best I can do is appreciate whatever beauty is available to me, to be creative myself (with my blog!), and encourage the people here to be interested in some “high-culture” that they are presently missing out on.

I dedicate this blog to my friend Andrea, who loves art and music and is very creative, in return for smuggling me into her art history class and inspiring some of these thoughts. Plus she would probably laugh at Paraguayan jokes. I’ve been writing awfully long blogs lately, sorry if it doesn’t fit with your tight schedule, but I am anticipating not having any time to write one for at least another week, so you can savor this one for awhile.

2006-12-04T15:36:00.000-02:00

Hola everyone. Assuming that the majority of my readers have high-speed internet, I encourage to you to go to googleearth.com or whatever website that is where you can view Asunción from space. I live in a “suburb” called Lambaré, but other than that I don’t really have functioning address to google. The postal service here is non-existent; only a few people who expect international mail have post office boxes, and Karen says even then they only expect to receive their mail about 80% of the time. For those of you who have asked, you can send things to me with a 20% chance of it getting lost to:

Ellen Sabo

c/o Oscar Cabellero

C.C. 3146

Asunción, Paraguay

C.P. 1209

We only have one hill, called Cerro Lambaré. (“Cerro” means “hill.” I guess you are allowed to call your hill “hill” as long as there’s only one in the whole town.) On Monday night we jogged there instead of running around the track. It’s was probably the longest run I’ve ever been on in my whole life, but I made it all the way to the top, where there is one of the oddest/ugliest structures I’ve ever seen. A lot of urban myths are in circulation about the demonic symbolism of the structure and the child sacrifice that apparently goes on there. Right now I don’t believe any of it, but I would like to find a reliable source to inform me. I do know that people from an evangelical church at the bottom of the hill march up the hill singing songs at 4:00 on Friday mornings. If I were Dan Brown I could write a story about it and make lots of money. And if I had lots of money, I would buy a djimbe drum (spelling?) and put up a basketball hoop at the church. But I’ll probably do those things anyways. I bought a basketball this week and I’m really excited because people want me to teach them how to play. I’ve already caused a few ripples by pointing out some of the volleyball rules that they have neglected to follow thus far, but don’t worry, I’m not being too much of a stickler.

I said I was going to write some thoughts about baptism, because I thought my week would be uneventful now that school is out, but no. (And I realized that besides the fact that we had a baptism in church last Sunday so it was something I was thinking about, it’s not really fair that I would write my opinions on such a topic just because I have a captive audience.) On the contrary, this is the busiest week so far at church, mostly because camp starts on Thursday. We heard a good pre-camp sermon from Psalm 107 on Saturday night. I’ve never paid closer attention during sermons in my whole life, because if I zone out even for a minute I risk the chance of losing the whole train of thought and never getting back on track. The Psalm tells the same story over and over in a different way each time: people were in trouble or hungry or thirsty or about to die or lost or afraid but every time God came and rescued them. The sermon on Sunday morning was basically reading the entire book of Esther, and that day we had an hour long prayer meeting AND a members’ monthly tithe-giving meeting, but it wasn’t long and boring like it seems like all those meetings would be, especially the prayer meeting was really exciting. There is a core group of twelve people that have been meeting to pray together for two years. Now those people have spilt into seven groups and the plan is to get 10 people in each group who will commit to praying together every Sunday. (I’m loving the significance of the 12 and the 70, and then the eventual plan is to get to 3000 like at Pentecost! Right now there are 5 or 6 people in each group.) I’m proud that my group gave me a lot of responsibility in bringing more people into our group because I’m already friends with kids “on the fringes,” that is, they kind of come to our church but aren’t really committed. So we’ll see what happens when I talk to them at camp. Other than that, I’ll just have to tell you about it afterwards, because I have no idea what to expect. Right now I’m disappointed because Ben and I had a great plan to make a “campfire” but instead of a fire it would be a fan with orange and red streamers that everyone would want to crowd around, but I guess he wasn’t being serious. But to counter that, I’m extrememly excited for the arrival of Judah Weinhardt from Phoenix on Wednesday and that he and Ben and Karen and I might create a quartet and sing a song in English for camp.

And now, the account of my most triumphant moment in Paraguay up to this point. On the corner between my house and the school there is a dirt volleyball court, a big workshop for reupholstering furniture, and very often a large gathering of men from the neighbourhood, a constant source of shyness and embarrassment for me whenever I have to walk past. Sometimes I almost want to stop and watch because they play a game with two guys on each side of the net and can only use their feet, head, and torso to get the ball over, and some are very talented, but their other hobby is to drink a lot. They learned my name early on, and if I was walking alone they would always call out things to me, but yesterday it reached an insufferable climax. One man professed his love for me in English, “my love, my love,” and proceeded to kiss my hand. My response? The equivalent of “oh please, you have go to be kidding!” with a LOT of attitude. Prior to this the only word I ever said in their presence was “hola,” but this time I really let it go. I told them that from now I don’t mind if they say to me “Buenas tardes señorita” or even greet me by name, but no more of these ridiculous displays of affection, because “eso es tonto” “that’s just silly!” Victory! The man apologized and now I feel really good because our relationship has been defined and when I walk past I can greet them and not be afraid that they think I’m flirting or something. It’s kind of embarrassing here if you walk past someone from your neighbourhood and you don’t greet them, but you also have to be careful even with the way that you make eye contact with some men. And now I just have to let the guys at the carwash on the corner by the supermarket know what I think of them…

2006-11-27T19:28:00.001-02:00

I got told twice this week that I looked like I was getting fatter. I actually don’t think it’s true and I know at least one of them meant it as a compliment, but it has severely injured my self-esteem nonetheless. Besides my self-loathing for eating too many tortillas and still biting my nails, everything else is going great. The school Christmas program was really cute. I was impressed with how all-out they went with the set and costumes, but then the performances were all on CD and the kids just acted it out as it played, but they did a great job and it was very entertaining. My favourite part of the evening though was observing all the Paraguayan mothers ordering about their kids and taking pictures in their high-heels and low-cut tops.

It was also a very special weekend at church. Last night there were testimonies. I got my friend Carolina to write hers out and I translated it so I could know her story. She started coming to church a few months ago because she was friends with the school librarian. I wish I could have understood some of the other testimonies too. 3 of the people baptized were middle-aged woman, there was one other girl my age, and then two guys my age. One of them, Adilson, has been in and out of jail since he was 14. He’d always go for the winter. He killed a few guys too. I’m not sure if that’s what he was in jail for, or if it happened while he was in jail, because the prison system here is terrible. Apparently the inmates all have knives and some even have guns. Our church has a prison ministry and my friend Juan says that he has been threatened with a knife in the prison before…I don’t exactly feel called to that church ministry right now, heh heh. But anyways, I don’t understand Adilson very well because he speaks really fast and I think Portuguese is his first language, but I think he really brings a lot of life into the church. He also does the gardening.

Edson is a week and a half old and already well-adjusted; today in church we had a dedication and he let out a perfectly cute little cry at the most opportune moment near the end of the prayer, what a dramatista (might be a Spanish word. A person who likes sports is a deportista, and person who jokes around is a bromista, and so on). I really like him a lot, and I sure had my fill of cute kids today because I went to a friend’s house for lunch that also lives with cute kids. I get invited to someone’s house for lunch every Sunday, sometimes I even have to choose where to go because of multiple invites. Continuing my observation of family life, Maria Teresa is a single woman who lives with her sister who has two kids, and the grandma also lives with them. Her job is reupholstering cars, but in January she wants to take 2 weeks off and go visit her brother in Bueno Aires, 14 hours away, and she asked me to go with her!! The only problem is she might have too much work to do, so I may have to become an apprentice and help her, while at the same time practicing my Spanish…we have a mutually beneficial relationship. People really like for me to teach them English as well. Especially when I watch a dubbed movie, I feel very privileged to have English as my mother tongue.

Today I watched “A River Runs Through it” for the third time in two weeks, but this evening it was in Spanish with no subtitles. I was watching solely for educational purposes but it turned out to be very inspiring. Besides the gorgeous Montana scenery (montaña means mountain in Spanish by the way), one of the themes is about helping others who need help, especially those closest to you. At the end one of the characters is giving a sermon about how we want to help them, but often we can’t, “sometimes because we don’t know what to offer, and other times because they won’t receive our help. And so those who we love elude us. But even so, we can still love them… we can love completely, without complete understanding.” I’m not so sure that merited quotation marks, it is a very loose paraphrase of the Spanish, but the thought has encouraged me greatly. I cried for a second time today, because I was supposed to talk to some of my family members on the phone and we weren’t able to and it left me very disappointed. At the same time, I had a great day with all the people at church and with my roommates when I came home, and I know that even though I don’t understand their language or share their cultural knowledge, I can still love them. And they love me, even though my accent is ridiculous and I conjugate my verbs all wrong and I conflagrate the words for “ball” and “chicken” to try and say “skirt.” By the way, as another one of my exercises in humility, this week I used the word “fighted” and said “arrove” in place of “arrived.” Just a warning in case you start wondering the writing in my blogs starts to get weirder, that happens when you are learning another language I guess. In closing, I highly recommend “A River Runs Through it,” but watch it during the summer, because it makes you want to go fishing. Next week I have more to say about baptism.

2006-11-27T19:28:00.000-02:00

Written on November 25, 2006

As promised, we celebrated American Thanksgiving at Oscar and Karen’s house on Thursday. It was the first time Karen ever made a turkey in Paraguay…just for me! But my favourite festive food by far is the stuffing, and I was not disappointed. Because we didn’t have much room in the oven, Karen creatively baked the extra stuffing in squash halves; not only did it taste great but the dish looked beautiful, very thanksgiving-ish. I had a lot of time that day to meditate on all the things I had to be thankful for, and I ended up composing this prayer in Spanish. I post it here for you to read not only because it is very telling of the things that I am happy to have here, but also so I can brag about how well I can write in Spanish, after only two months!

Dios Padre, que hizo los cielos y tierra, y nuestro creador,

tú nos diste vida, y nos das todas las cosas en abundancia para que las disfrutemos. Gracias por todas las cosas buenas de nuestra vida: la comida rica, las camas cómodos, las casas y patios, la seguridad, los cuerpos fuertes y saludables, el sol, la lluvia refrescante, los árboles de mangos, los niños felices, los bebes tranquilos, Edson, los libros y la capacidad de leer, las heladeras y las ollas especiales, una iglesia cariñosa, los amigos quienes nos invitan a sus casas para comer, las deportes, las siestas, el Internet, la música, el ajedrez, las cámaras, el tereré, los ventiladores, las duchas, los zapatillas, los hospitales, los supermercados, los cabinas, y los autos. Reconocemos que todas de esas cosas son regalos de tí y todo es creado por tí es bueno cuando lo recibimos con acción de gracias.

Perdónanos por olvidar a darte las gracias. Perdónanos por quejarnos a veces y codiciar. Ayúdanos a hacer el bien, ser ricos en buenas obras, dadivosos, generosos, y vivir con gratitud.

Señor, esta comida representa que tenemos y nuestra gratitud. Y cuando acabamos de comer y nuestras panzas están satisfechas, que sea un símbolo de cómo estamos satisfechos completamente por tu amor. Además, damos gracias por bendecirnos con toda bendición espiritual en los lugares celestiales in Cristo. Aun si parece como no tenemos nada, pido que dijéramos aun así:

“Aunque la higuera no florezca,

Ni en las vides hay frutos,

Aunque falte el producto del olivo,

Y los labrados no den mantenimiento,

Y las ovejas sean quitadas de la majada,

Y no haya vacas en los corrales;

Con todo, yo me alegraré en Jehová,

Y me gozaré en el Dios de me salvación”

Father God, who created the heavens and the earth, and our creator,

You breathed life into us, and you richly provide us with all things to enjoy.

Thank you for all the good things in our lives: good food, comfortable beds, houses and yards, safety, strong and healthy bodies, the sun and the refreshing rain, mango trees, happy children and tranquil babies, Edson, books and the capacity to read, refrigerators and special pots, a loving church and friends who invite us over for meals, sports, naps, the internet, music, chess, cameras, tereré, fans, showers, flip-flops, hospitals, supermarkets, neighbourhood places where you can go and make phone calls or use the internet, and cars. We recognize that all these things are gifts from you, and that everything you created is good and to be with thanksgiving.

Forgive us for forgetting to give you thanks. Forgive us for sometimes complaining and for coveting. Help us to do good, to be rich in good works, generous, willing to share and to live lives of gratitude.

Lord, this food represents the abundance that we have and are thankful for. When we finish eating and our appetites are satisfied, let it be a symbol of how we are completely satisfied by your love. Most of all, we give thanks that you have blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavens, through Christ. And even if it seems like we have nothing, I ask that we would still say:

“Though the fig tree does not bud

and there is no fruit on the vines,

though the olive crop fails

and the fields produce no food,

though there are no sheep in the pen

and no cattle in the stalls,

yet I will triumph in Yahweh;

I will rejoice in the God of my salvation!”

Scripture references:

1 Timothy 4:4, 6:17-18; Ephesians 1:3; Habakkuk 3:17-18

2006-11-24T18:47:00.000-02:00

here are some of the little monkeys from the school. Aren't they cute?? This tree is only 4 years old, same age as the school building which you can kind of see in the background.

2006-11-24T18:30:00.000-02:00

So this picture is a little silly, but at least you get to see Ben and Vivi who are engaged to be married 3 days before christmas, and in this picture, "engaged" in a favourite paraguayan past-time.

2006-11-24T18:00:00.000-02:00

HEY LOOK! it's a picture of my house. I think this picture is extremely flattering. It was taken underneath a mango tree and usually there are over-ripe mangos littered all over the yard. To the left is a shallow pool which is becoming a giant aquarium with all kinds of foul-smelling things in it. It is a good representation of Paraguay - at one and the same time full of natural beauty but severly unkempt.

2006-11-21T19:56:00.000-02:00

I dedicate this entry to my friend Scott who has faithfully read my blog and responded with interesting comments. He asked what view of the Bible the people here take. Obviously I only really know about my church and even then it will full of generalizations, but I present to you my observations and a few tidbits of some people’s religious views. The first thing I want to say is that regardless of what the people believe on certain issues, I have definitely experienced love and fellowship being with them. I like going to church and I like spending lots of the time being with them and going over to people’s houses for meals or just to visit. The church here has had its share of problems like any other church, Karen has told me, but they work through them. And I think the church loving each other as family is more important than any doctrinal issue. Warning: I am working on a handbook for North Americans who want to come here for short-term missions, and one of the points I was working on today was not being critical, especially when writing home, but I think what I want to write next is important for you to be able to understand the evangelical church here. (I will post a copy of the handbook when it’s slightly more complete and ask for your feedback). The first thing I noticed when I walked into the “templo” (the people are the church, and the building they call the temple), was the stained glass window that depicted, what else? the Bible. Well, it’s not REALLY a stained glass window; similar, but the stained glass part is missing and it’s more of a hole in the wall with the metal outline of a Bible. Honestly I was a little worried to see a Bible at the front of the church, as opposed to a cross. After all, the Bible is not the center of our worship, it tells us about the One Whom we worship. The Cross is, in my mind, a much better symbol of the central message of Christianity, representing the extent to which Christ was willing to suffer out of love for us. I think the reason behind it is that the evangelical church here feels a lot of pressure to counteract the Catholic Church. I know someone who stopped wearing a cross on her neck because someone asked her if she was Catholic. Another family I know has a very pious elderly mother who is very involved at her Catholic Church, but they are sure she is unsaved. On the other hand, the ladies in the mother’s bible study told her not to convert to the religion of her daughters because then she won’t be saved! A very nice family but what a bunch of needless tension. Another teacher at the church today was telling me how horrible it is that Catholics recite prayers. And I’ve also read tracts that are more anti-catholic propaganda than actual presentations of the gospel. So I think the Church on both sides is suffering from a lack of understanding. Our church (sorry, I mean, our temple) can’t even have a cross, the primary symbol of the Christian religion, because it’s considered too Catholic. I’m guessing that is also why we call our church building a temple, in contrast to the nicer-looking Catholic churches (at least no one will ever be tempted to worship our building!) To me some of the anti-catholicism causes a bit of a watering-down of the Gospel.

Church starts at 8:30 in the morning, but is finished by 10, so we spend tons of time just hanging out with each other on Sundays. Sundays have always been my favourite (even when I had to ride to church in the same vehicle with my dad and his crazy driving), but now they enchant/charm me (a very literal translation of the Spanish way of saying you love something, “me encanata”). In church I like to sit by my friend Laura who translates a few of the key points for me or writes notes in Spanish which I can then read. And the rest of the time I make up a sermon in my own head based on the scripture. The sermons are fairly simple and easy for me to follow. Mostly it is a lot of words of exhortation about the usual: being separate from the world, needing faith, not worrying, etc. I really liked one sermon on the night that we had communion about how Christians are to love each other. The people pray and preach with lots of passion and emotion and EMphasis and loudly.

Anyways, the people definitely would say that the Bible is their main authority and they try to live their lives by it. More than a lot of direct Bible reading though, it seems like devotional books are the big thing here. Both my roommates get up early and read devotional books every morning. We also have devotionals with the teachers every morning, and 90% of the time the teacher will read from his or her daily devotional. Max Lucado is HUGE here, but I’ve also met two really big Benny Hinn fans. Franklin Graham came to Asunción a year ago and they still talk about him. Last Saturday we played a trivia game at church which included NT and OT categories, and the people seemed to know quite a bit. Oh I have to stray from my topic to tell a funny story about that. They were splitting up the teams into “casada” and “no casada” which means married and single. I left to go to the opposite side of the one I was on, saying to my neighbor “no estoy cansada,” by which I meant that I was not tired, because I didn’t really hear the instructions right. Thankfully I ended up on the singles’ side. I am glad I had taken a nap before church and didn’t feel tired that night, otherwise I would have intended to stay on the “casada” side and been somewhat avergonzala (embarrassed-a word I use a lot to describe how I feel). Anyways, my team got 400 points for me knowing the opening words of Isaiah’s call, even though I couldn’t say it in Spanish.

And then this past Saturday night we had La Noche de los Talentos (a talent show). The church really has a lot of young people and it was great to see them organize such an event. I made a cameo appearance as a ballet dancer in the youth group skit, which I have to say was the most entertaining church skit I have ever seen. And we had it outside in the perfect weather and ate empanadas together afterwards and it was just really fun. I actually have a lot more I could write about this week, but since this is already terribly long I’ll try to remember for next week. I’m going to be celebrating American Thanksgiving this week at Oscar and Karen’s. We might have to take the oven outside on the patio to cook the turkey if it’s too hot. Haha!

2006-11-17T19:30:00.000-02:00

Yesterday I got to hold a one-day old baby. He belongs to Oscar and Karen and he was three weeks early, but he’s just great. He doesn’t look funny or scrunched up at all; his head is a nice shape and the only weird thing about him are how his feet cock back like he was doing leg presses in the womb. But that’s good because it means he wants to have strong quads in order to be a soccer player. I snickered when I kept hearing people use the Spanish word for work “trabajando” to describe what Karen went through to have him, but then I remembered what “labor” means and I felt very silly. In fact, I feel so dumb that I am considering deleting that terribly embarrassing tidbit, but I will let it be just to show how learning other languages can help you understand your native tongue better. Anyways, Karen was meant to be a missionary. She had that baby like a pro and she’s probably back on her feet and baking a cake and nursing the baby at the same time or going to school board meetings. The doctor said he looked like an Arab just like Oscar!?! but the nurse said he looks german because of his cheeks. Oh, by the way his name is Edson. It’s a good name because it’s pronounced the same in both languages , it’s kinda original, it’s a town in Alberta, and it’s the name I was rooting for (they were also considering “Jonathon”).

Things are definitely winding up at school. We are finishing exams and preparing for the Christmas program at the end of November. On days like today one is really glad to be laying in her room under the fan writing a blog and not in class with 20 sweaty kids; Ben said it was 36 degrees at 7 o’clock last night, plus there were a bazillion mosquitoes out. By the way, if you don’t want me to have to be stuffed into a class with 40 kids next year, you can give money so for building the addition to the school. It’s really easy: just send money to the ACC missionary foundation for the “Paraguay School.” And then I’ll help build it… it’s a good deal, free labor!!

I realized this week I have NO CLUE what is going on in the rest of the world. I haven’t so much as glanced at a newspaper (sorry Auntie Barb, I think I broke my promise to try and stay globally informed). I want everyone who reads my blog to stop right now and think about how thankful you are that you can pick up a newspaper or turn the radio on or look on the internet and learn what’s going on. And most of all that you can be politically informed. The political process here is utterly anti-intellectual and corrupt, so Ben tells me. But I had already observed the campaign vehicles driving around with HUGE speakers blasting music (how does this get people to vote??), and heard the fireworks at night, and seen the volunteers or campaign people or whatever sitting around their posters and drinking beer. It’s very strange. The funny thing is that the voters are fairly uninformed, but everybody votes – it’s illegal to even have church on the Sunday that they have elections. Sorry that everything I know about Paraguayan politics so far are bad. I was reading a poster that said something like “stop the corruption, stop the lies,” and Karen just scoffed and said “yeah right.” Sad.

I dedicate this entry to Ben’s mom, who I hear has been appreciating my blog. I tried to make it very descriptive and specific just for you, Lily. I just started to read the comments so I want people to write good comments and ask questions to keep my blog exciting, and maybe you will get special mention! Also, it’s not like I miss this at all, but there aren’t doorknobs in Paraguay, just handles. Just something different.

2006-11-14T15:18:00.001-02:00

I realized this week that I am basically living my dream life. I live in a near perfect climate (warm and sunny most days, though I also enjoy the rain, and I discovered that the heat can never last forever). This week was most glorious in terms of weather. I have a well-defined sandal tan on my feet. In terms of other physical needs, I have absolutely everything I need including delicious food everyday, but I definitely live simply and don’t have an excessive amount of material possessions to be concerned with. I don’t need a car because my church and work and shopping and friends are all within about 10 minutes or less of walking distance from my house. So I get exercise from walking and I’ve also obtained my own ”personal trainer” one night a week who teaches me soccer workouts. It works out well since people have advised me against jogging alone in the neighbourhood. Plus there are sports at the church at least 3 nights a week.

I already have many friends from church; there are lots of people that I look forward to getting to know better, but I also have a few kids that I am already fairly close to. Last weekend I got to sleep over at a friend’s house. I really like visiting people here and seeing what their houses and families are like. So far, I’ve only been to two households where there was no extended family living together; Karen told me they don’t really have nursing homes here and mostly everyone takes care of their aging parents. Siblings often continue to live together even after one gets married, and if families don’t live together they might live a block or two away from each other. It is a very interesting situation at Carolina’s house where I was: her brother left his wife and went to Spain but the sister-in-law still lives with her ex-husband’s family, except for Carolina’s mom, who lives in New York. Carolina and I have started a tradition of eating popcorn for dinner before church on Wednesday nights. She is rather new to the church and is getting baptized this month, and she is a very fun girl.

I still haven’t gotten bored with things here. Every time I go to the grocery it is an adventure. Classes finished last Friday, but the students still have exams in the morning and I go and study Spanish or do odd jobs and then talk with the kids when they finish writing their exams. I think I have acquired some excellent phraseology with so much influence from kids, especially from the junior high kids, and of course people always think it’s very funny when I speak really cool. I am also helping Karen with a manual for short-term missionaries, and of course starting to study lessons for teaching next year. So I feel like I have things to do and that I am learning a lot. I also know that my life has purpose, even just to hang out with the kids at school and do things for my roommates feels significant, but mostly because I am needed at the school to teach. But right now for the summer it will not be really busy and so I have more time just to be alone and read a lot and enjoy being alive…very refreshing after 5 years of school. I do have to make certain sacrifices though; I noticed today that my sandal-tanned feet do not feel as soft as they once were (an understatement) and are pretty much in a constant state of uncleanness. I can’t really be normally chatty self, for example when we play sports I don’t really cheer that much, and the one time I did say something that I knew how to say, it came out as trash talk “en tu cara!” (in your face), and then I find it difficult to adequately apologize or else my apology sounds like I accidentally ran them over with my car or something terrible. And if I do something really dumb I can’t explain my way out of it. So I am glad that I can communicate well through my blog, and I enjoy trying to help you understand what life is like here. Of course, I also appreciate hearing about what is going on at home too!!

2006-11-08T14:40:00.000-02:00

Excuse me, I am using a spanish keyboard now so the punctuation might be a little off until i get used to it. All of the directions on the screen are also in spanish, so I hope I post this correctly. I am at a cabina where it costs me about 60 cents a minute to use the internet...really painfully slow dial-up, but internet nonetheless and it is only a block from my house. I have been doing a lot of the grocery shopping all by myself and I even order meat from the deli and ask where things are, but I admit I was a little timid to come and ask to use the internet... Which I now regret, because it was so easy! Paraguay is the best place in the world to come to and learn, because the people are so kind and patient, and I hear in Argentina every talks really fast. But yesterday a friend gave me some desert that her brother had brought from Argentina, and it was delicious! On Sunday I celebrated my one-month anniversary with Paraguay. I cannot believe how fast it went by! But it was encouraging because over the past 3 days many people how told me how impressed they are with my speaking abilities. Right now if I have a dictionary I can read okay, but I am still having a very hard time putting together whole phrases when people are speaking to me (Thank you for giving me that dictionary, Larissa, it comes in handy all the time when communicatiing with my roomates, and reading recipies and I take it to the grocery store when I need to buy spices). You would not believe how many cognantes there are between spanish and english; you can say words such as inaugural, principle, enthusiastic, apathetic, optimistic, allergic, or almost anything english word with more than 3 syllables with an accent, and people will understand you.
But i have been finding other ways to communicate with people besides words. It is too hot to do physical activity during the day most days, but a few evenings a week I go to what used to be a university campus only a few blocks from my house with some friends from church. We run laps on the track and find people to play sports with. I don't want to toot my own horn, but I am probably the best basketball player in all of Paraguay. No one really understands the rules very well, and we were playing with a volleyball, but it is still fun anyways.
I shouldnt be complaining about the heat, because we had four days of rain this week and I actually had to use a blanket the last two nights. I woke up this morning and thought it must be 5 degress outside, but it was 20!! It felt so cold though, from all the humidity I guess. Anyways, enough about the weather. All of the english exams are this week, and Ben and I are having to find ways to keep the kids entertained (i.e. somewhat behaving themselves, i.e. not killing each other and destroying the classroom. Ben says to pray that they take professional wrestling off the TV here). Since Karen is going to have her baby any day now, i am also teaching the grade one and kindergarten classes all by myself. I laugh when I think of myself trying to explain the lyrics of "jingle bells"to a bunch of 5-year olds who have never seen snow in all their lives.
Tonight is prayer meeting at church. I told my mom that if anyone thinks church is boring, they should try sitting through a one hour long sermon (not including 2 lengthy prayers) in a lnaguage they don{t understand. I do enjoy the singing though and Ben and Vivi say when I can say the words better they want me to sing up front with them. we'll see. People here don{t really know how to sing very well, but that's okay because next year Ben is going to start a school choir and I'm really looking forward to it. Next week I get to be in a musical skit for church where Ben and I are going to do interpretive dance. Since I can come here all the time now, I'll save more things to write about for later. I watched a movie on thomas edison (in english) with the kids, in which the inventor says he wants to invent things for the betterment of mankind, so Ive translated it (with Bens help) into a inspirational spanish slogan "para el mejoramiento de la humanidad" and I try to do something in this vein every day. Today it was not yelling at the kids when they were driving me nuts in the classroom, and now I;m going to help my friend study for her english exam. Chao!

2006-10-30T23:34:00.000-02:00

So, yesterday was the first day that I cried since I've been here. I was trying to be really sentimental and kept saying to myself that it was because I missed my family, but to be completely honest I know it was because I was so terribly overheated. And we were out of water, there wasn't even any to drink, and the electricity went out just as I was about to be able to talk to my sister on the phone for the first time since I got here!!! This week it got pretty hot. Once when i woke up at 4 in the morning, I checked the thermometer and at this coolest time of day it was already a little over 30 degrees. I admit I used to think that maybe people from south america were lazy or something, but I consider myself to be a pretty industrious person, and here I am lazy. i have to be. On hot days all i can do for about 2 hours in the afternoon is lay on my bed. Sometimes i have the prescence of mind to read or study some spanish, but often i can only lay there and concentrate on trying to cool down a bit. I kept thinking of the place in isaiah where it says, "in returning and rest and rest you will be saved; in quietness and confidence will be your strength" or seomthing like that, because I want to feel useful and like I'm doing a lot of things, but right now the best thing I can do is sit back and talk with the people and learn their language and culture.
My roommate Vivi has a discipleship partner, Laura, who she meets with on tuesdays, but this week she had to take my other roommate to the hospital (don't worry, she's better now) so she said that I could entertain Laura for the evening. I was very excited when laura said we could walk to the park, because up until now i didn't know a park exisited in my neighbourhood (but there is a very small one across the street from the partment that I am moving into in the new year). It turns out the park was fairly trashed; as usual, there were beautiful plants growing all over, but there was also tons of garbage and the kids had to play on broken rusted structures. Laura and I complained about it for awhile, but then she also said something that stuck in my mind. She hates how the people don't take very good care of their things, but at the same time she loves that relationships and other people ARE very important. I've been able to talk with a few more people on the same topic, and EVERYONE I've talked to so far says that this is home and they want to stay here for the rest of their lives, because they love the people here. One boy in the school came here with his family from south africa, and he too says he likes it here best because the people are so friendly. I have definately noticed the willingness for people to want to speak with me, and have been a recipient of much hospitality. One day I met a girl from the school in the "super"and she helped me do all my grocery shopping and then invited me over to her house. You can show up at someone's house any time of day and (if they are not sleeping a siesta) they will ALWAYS have time to sit around and talk with you, even for a couple of hours. Do you think it would be a good idea for people in north america to follow their example a bit? I suppose that is one thing that is keeping me from being homesick, that I can always just walk around my neighbourhood and find someone to talk to, anyone will invite you to come and sit on the porch and drink terere with them.
I guess another significant part of my week was the day karen couldn't make it to school (she's 8 months pregnant) and I had to teach her kindergarten and grade one english classes. I definately think they went better than teaching the phys ed classes like I did last week (did I remember to write about that?) , but a lot of the time I worry that i might go CRAZY being in a classroom full of kids for 5 hours a day. It was fun because I read stories to them first in spanish, then the same story in english. they probably paid more attention than usual jst because it is pretty hilarious to hear me reading in spanish. Oh yes, going back to the part about being surrounded by crazy kids, on saturday night I went to our sister church in the slum area. I wanted to cry when I saw the river, the banks were blanketed with trash, and I also wanted to plug my nose. As usual, I struggled to stay awake during the service (this problem should be improving now that I purchased a spanish english bible) but it was very exciting afterwards when all the kids were asking me what their names would be in english, asking me to teach them a song, telling me they don't have a sunday school teacher and would I come back tomorrow?, and asking me about professional wrestling!(??!!) It was amazing to be surrounded by about 10 sweaty kids(seemed like 50)all grabbing at you and yelling in spanish all at the same time. Th kids at are school are only slightly more well-behaved. I have big plans for trying to keep their attention and having more disciplned classes. the good thing about teaching a specialized subject like english is that I get 6 different classes of kids to be with, of varying ages. I guess i will write more about that when I actually have my own classes in november. For right now we are having fun planning what kind of trips we can go on during the summer, and of course hoping that we will be able to start building the new classroom additions. Just today ben told me that even if we don't have the clasrrooms, we are going to find ways to squeeze more kids in. HELP! It's already too hot and crowded! oh, and I should make a correction -it's not 60,000 just for the foundation, that's for the whole building. things are pretty cheap here. I think if you want to take a vacation just for a really cultural-shocking experience and eat yummy food but not have to spend a lot of money, you should come visit me here. You can buy gigantic watermelon's bigger than Karne's stomach for less than $2. My goal is to become a really good translator in case anyone comes, because I really appreciate it when people translate for me. But i guess I should stop writing, because I try to only speak english on weekends, and since today is monday I want to convince my brain to be in spanish mode. One last interesting thing that I did this week was helping our landlady fumagate our house for termites. they are really really gross and any time I look up and see the remnants of the little trails they made it gives me the willies. Thanks everyone for thinking of me and taking time to read my blog. I feel like I'm becoming a better person, and also that when I come back home there will never be anything to complain about ever again, except maybe if people are too busy. Yesterday I was walking up to my house under a tree and a mango fell and hit me on the shoulder. I've been eating at least 4 or 5 mangos a day and I have a blister on my finger from peeling them. I guess they are like the christmas orange of paraguay. dios te bendiga("God bless you" I hear this about 500 times at the average church meeting, but it always seems sincere when you're also being kissed and touched by other sweaty cheeks)

2006-10-22T22:49:00.000-02:00

I thought maybe by now I wouldn't be so excited to write because I am more used to things here, but then this weekend a group of four of us from the church went to a little island for an outreach program . On the way we passed by a woman lying dead in the street with tired tracks on her arms from being run over, it was terrible. But that incident aside, the country here is beautiful. It is a nice mix of fields and myriads of different kinds of trees and plants, and for 3 hours along the highway there was just a string of houses and stores and animals which were all very interesting for me to observe. We took a ferry across the lake that had been made when they dammed up a part of the river. The island-life there was extremely rustic. It felt like we were on a camping trip, and I didn't even feel that dirty, so didn't take a bathe(in half of a tire) at night. I guess the people all thought this was pretty weird, and Ben and I later reflected that if it was your life all the time, bathing before bed would be an important ritual. I liked pulling water out of the well, and it tasted so good and fresh. But I didn't like sitting in the kitchen where they cooked over an open fire and it was just filled with smoke. It seemed like everyone there had at least 6 kids (and the lady across the street had another just as we were arriving), and I guess they never have any problem getting kids to show up to sing sings and hear Bible stories, and of course, eat snacks. the programs we did for the kids went really well. I don't know if I mentioned this, but everyone here is bilingual; they all speak the native language called guarani. Everyone gets a kick when I answer them in guarani phrases, it's a very accented, nasally language. On the island they didn't even know spanish, so Ben and I played the fools, literally and put on a few very sucessful sketches. When I am able to post pictures, it will make my blog that much more interesting.
My favourite part was sitting around at night at the neighbour's house. He was asking me questions which first had to be translated from guarani to spanish by Grasiela, and then from spanish to english by Ben. I suppose normally a conversation like this would be annoyingly tedious, but when you're on an island where there's nothing else to do and to sit on the porch under the single incandescent lightbulb, it's okay. One thing that made me sad is that i could see that many of the kids were malnourished; their joints stuck out far, the end of their dark hair was lightened and a few even had really big stomachs like the pictures you always see of starving african chidren. the worst part is, I don't think it's for lack of food, the people simply don't know anything about eating fruits or vegetables. We ate really yummy food, like chicken covered with deep-fried tortilla, but the whole times I was just dying for something green. Ironically, they produce tons of bananas because everyone on the island is a farmer...they are probably so sick of bananas they don't even think of offering them to guests!
On the whole, it seems most people don't eat very healthy. It's a shame because the crops are so readily available, but I guess people just don't know how to cook them or anything. People are very proud of their paraguayan food and are very pleased when I tell them that the chipas or croqueta is "rica." I like to tell them that in North America when we say food is "rich" it usually means it is food that makes you fat!
I'm sorry my blogs are so disorganized. I always have to end up writing kind of late (even though right now there's REALLY loud music playing outside the window, people here love to play so everyone in the neighbourhood can here. It only bugs me when I'm trying to take a siesta, which, by the way, I spelled wrong in a previous blog, how embarassing). Anyways, I wanted to talk about one really important thing concerning the school. Karen has told me a lot about the history of their church here. It's hard to believe the school was only actually started 4 years ago, it's such a big project just to maintain with the few people and small plot of land we have. Anyways, now they are planning to build an addition so they can have more classes (every classroom is just packed full!) and to go up to the tenth grade (currently we go from kindergarten to grade 9). Besides the fact that it will be a ton of work, they also need $60,000 just to build the foundation. In some ways I think that it will just never happen because it's too big of a project. But then, so did the church and the school that exist here already. From the stories of the church here, I've learned a good way to keep the church from being stagnant is to plan projects that seem too big and difficult. Also, maybe this would work in our own personal lives too, if we decided to set out to achieve more than we think we can. I'll stop writing because this is sounding so cliche, but I felt the need to tell you about this project, and maybe we will be able to get enough money to start building (it will also give me a lot of work to do over the summer!). I know they also want to improve the roof over the sanctuary. First of all, it leaks a lot. Secondly, it is made of tin and when it rains we can barely hear each other over the noise.
In case anyone wants to know, I've totally chickened out and barely wash any of my clothes by hand. Instead, I bring them to Karen's on the weekend when I also come to use the internet and play chess with Gaby whom I've now beat 3 times. Tomorrow is excursion day and I am going with the grades 4-6 to learn about buying organic products. But I probably won't be able to learn much. I am a fairly good reader in spanish and I can speak with Vivi and Emi my roomates, but most people speak too fast and don't enunciate clearly. Also, my vocabulary is very limited except in the area of "cool" exclamations, superfluous adjectives and names of food. Everyone, don't forget you can post comments or ask me to clarify some things if I breeze over things. Only very rarely do I get discouraged about not being able to communicate clearly, or always being sweaty or how annoying it is to wash dishes or thinking about being here for such a long time. Mostly I am very happy and I always pray that I will have joy in what I do and share the joy with others here. I pray that you too will remember that God invented pleasure and wants his creatures experience these delights in the way he intended. I write this because in the car on the way home from the island I was reading "the screwtape latters" by C.S. Lewis and in one letter the senior demon rebukes his protege for letting his "patient" that he is trying to tempt go for a walk in the countryside and drink a cup of tea at his favourite place. My favourite part was when the demon says it's terrible when someone reads a book because they really like it and not just so they can talk about it to other people to impress them. So remember to take time to do those kinds of things that really enliven your spirit and remember to be grateful to God. You might think the people here aren't as happy because they can't go out to eat all the time or they have to spend more time doing housework, but then again, maybe you haven't seen with what joy the kids can play a game of soccer. until next week...

2006-10-14T13:59:00.000-02:00

Usually we spend all day at church on sunday, but today it is rainy outside. It was disappointing at first but it is very relaxing and a welcome change from the heat. I really wanted to write again soon anyways because I discovered another BIG difference here that I am going to have a hard time getting used to; I guess the sewage systems aren't very powerful, and only yesterday I learned that you're not allowed to flush toilet paper down. It's actually not as gross as you think it would smell.
We had lunch at church yesterday and afterwards watched a movie together. i was all excited because Ben (my friend from Ohio who is getting married to a girl from here) told me it was in English with Spanish subtitles. Actually, it was called "end of the spear" about some missionaries, a fairly entertaining movie, but most of it was actually the natives speaking in their own language with spanish subtitles so I really didn't learn or understand much. My joke was that I can know speak perfect wadohani. Okay, I have to go now because brandon and gabi are presuuring me to play games with them (I beat gabo at chess yesterday, yes!). I tried to put some pictures on here but the computer is really slow and not working for some reason. Chao!

2006-10-14T11:25:00.000-02:00

Hola Everyone! I said I would be able to write this weekend, and indeed I am right on schedule. I already have my routine here down pat; Monday through Friday I wake up and pray in the mornings with Vivi and Emi, the two sisters that I live with, and we go to school at 6:30. The entire week I was Ben’s protégé as I followed him to his English classes all morning until 11:30. The morning can sometimes seem long, but we get a recess and I usually get out of at least one class every day because another grade will ask me to join them for phys. ed. Lunch is the big meal of the day here, and the favorite time of day for Vivi and Emi and I to spend together. Since I don’t really know how to cook here, they have been making delicious meals everyday and I watch and do all the cleaning afterwards. Perhaps starting next week I will make a meal or two (tell me if you have a good idea of what to make using simple ingredients and only a stove, it is way too hot to use the oven plus we don’t have a very big kitchen so we use our oven for a cupboard). I spend the afternoons at home alone while Emi takes university classes and Vivi goes back to teaching. It is necessary to take a ciesta because it’s too hot to do anything else, and I also study my Spanish. I am looking forward to when I don’t have to study as much and I can read during this time. Sometimes I like to wander around the neighbourhood; I entertain myself by getting lost and finding my way back. At 3:30 I return to the school to tutor Brandon and Gabriel, the missionary kids. Those 2 hours are part of my day that I feel very much at home during, since we speak English and I mostly nag them a lot, but they are funny kids and I enjoy our time together. In the evenings we can hang out at the church/school since there are always people there talking and playing sports, and prayer meetings or Bible studies or people practicing music. I think one of my favourite things about being here is living so close to the people from church and to the grocery store and the man who sells light bulbs and to “work.”
Even though I wake up at the same time every day and see the same people, it’s always exciting because I am experiencing so many new things. Going to the supermarket to get groceries was totally exhilarating; you should have seen the piles of produce and the mass of all different types of bread in the bakery. Plus, the cheese is delicious and so cheap. My splurge at the store was some hard dutch cheese that cost about $3 US/kilo. Even riding the bus was fun, or interesting at least. Oh, I just noticed this blog is way too positive and there are some things I don’t like; I don’t mind washing t-shirts, but my socks are so crunchy when they dry. Fortunately, I come to Oscar and Karen’s house on the weekend and they have a washing machine! Another thing I would never have to deal with in Edmonton was the cockroach that was in my dresser when I first got my room, yuck! But at least I learned the words to the rest of the song “la cucaracha…” Everyone kept telling me I was going to get sick from my body adjusting to the water, but I never did. I must have an iron stomach. Right now I am loving the food, but you can ask me in a couple of months if I am tired of eating empanadas and rice and tomatoes and bananas. I am looking forward to when I can be more useful in teaching at the school. In two weeks Karen will be really close to having her baby so I am going to take over her classes and teach the kids Christmas carols…while it’s 28 degrees outside and the mangos are ripening!

2006-10-09T00:00:00.000-02:00

well, I have been in Paraguay for 3 whole days now, and I feel like I would need to post a new entry on my blog every hour if I wanted to tell you about all the new and exciting things I've experienced. But since I have to wake up at 5:30, I'll keep it short. On Friday I spent the day at the school. It is a simple two-storey building with small classrooms and a playground(with a wooden slide!) and a court for playing the 3 favourite sports: soccer and volleyball and handball. I don't even attempt to play the first with them, but the fourth-graders (my favourite class so far) asked me to play handball with them, and all the girls who didn't get to be on my team cried.
Yesterday Ben and his financee Vivi took me downtown. I am going staying with the missionaries right now, but am moving to live with Vivi and her sister Emi tomorrow in an apartment about the size of our living room. I get along very well with Oscar and Karen and their two boys (they like me too, the boys were won over by my ipod!), and I adore Vivi, I can see why Ben fell in love with her. She speaks enough english for her and I to communicate with much difficulty, everyone else I can barely understand a word! When a boy asked me what I liked about Paraguay, I said "todo"-everything- and everyone started laughing. I learned the important lesson that a "d" must be pronounced "th" because to pronounce it like I do in english makes its sound like a rolled "r," so he thought I said "torro," meaning, of course, "bull."
I do like the bulls though, and the skinny horses that feed untethered beside the city roads and the roosters that wander around and all the stray dogs. I like the salty corn bread with whole kernals of corn and the empanadas (deep fried pastry filled with "carne") that I've eaten everyday so far and a drink called mate (ma-teh) in which you pour a few tablespoons of hot water into a cup with what looks like tea leaves and drink it through a straw. Everyone shares from the same cup, and when it's drunk cold it's called terere (teh-reh-reh).
In another couple of days I'm probably going to get a little sick as my digestive system gets used to the water. I'm also going to go crazy trying to have the simplest of conversations and having it take forever. But the people are very patient with me, and I hope you will be too as I probably won't have the chance to write again until next weekend. I want so badly to be able to tell you what it's like here, but I just think everyone needs to visit. It is amazing. Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

2006-09-19T14:40:00.000-02:00

Hello, welcome to my first ever blog. This is where you can come anytime to get an update on what I am doing in Paraguay and my thoughts on adjusting to a new culture. Feel free to post comments, or you can also send an e-mail to crazybrains8@hotmail.com. Thanks for being interested in my life, I hope in return I can encourage and entertain you. Isn't technology great?