Hello everyone. I'd like to welcome all to my final blog post in Paraguay. Unless something really cool happens that I want everyone to know about, like getting attacked by a rogue jaguar downtown or saving a 4 year old's life by diving in front of a bus. Yeah, it'd have to be pretty big. So this is the conclusion. I think.
Life continues to go here in the heart of South America (that's what they call Paraguay. At least in Paraguay. I tried using the same nickname when I was in Bolivia and people said. No. That's not right.) and a little faster than I like... the last month is going to be hard. With goodbyes and goodbyes... and then some more goodbyes sprinkled in for good measure. So I'll try to keep the farewells as short as possible. Maybe start with 3 days to go. Saying goodbye that is. It's just an awful process. I mean, I was always one to rip off my standard skin colored Johnson & Johnson band-aids in one fell swoop. Do it slowly? That's ridiculously painfully. Only masochists and stupid people do that. But I know it won't happen that way. All my conversations I have with friends at work, at the church, around the neighborhood, eventually drift to the 10 month hourglass that got flipped over 9 months ago.
Friday I got invited by my friend/co-worker/local Brazilian Fernando for some asado (like a bbq) and some convo. Some others were there and I was genuinely appreciative for the hospitality that was showed. We talked about everything and it was great to see him outside of the normal setting, in his life, in his home, with his wife and kids. His wife showed me photos from there wedding, family pictures, kids when they were dancing, kids when they were bathing, kids when they were Tae-kwon-do. I laughed in my head, because it was almost like something from a movie, a dinner date gone wrong as his wife pulled out photo album after photo album of their family. Maybe another time I would have been somewhat annoyed, but in that moment I felt honored. She was sharing their life, there memories, what they'd done. She wanted me to know not just who they are but who they were. So we wound down the evening with laughter, Argentinian alfajores (kinda like Ho-Hos, but 8 times better) and Brazilian coffee... and talking about when I was going, to which Fernando said he wanted to have a despedida (goodbye party) for me and the team at his house. After that I left with Sergio (another good friend and co-worker) and we decided to cruise the streets of Asuncion, waiting for his sister and significant other to finish seeing Russell Crowe kick some Norman tail in Robin Hood. We just cruised and talked about whatever. It was a good Friday night.
Daniel.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
May!
*So this is what happens when you write a blog over several days. It's not smooth, but it works.*
I woke up this morning tired, wanting to stay where I was, knowing that outside of my covers was not a place I wanted to be. But with steely resolve (and after three slaps of the large, well placed button entitled snooze), I threw off the covers and shook off my tiredness to face a day even Rachel Myers would call dreary (she's living in England).
But the point of this blog entry isn't to tell you how cloudy and stormy the day was, but rather to let you know why I am tired. I am tired because, I travel, and I travelled because I'm tired. But I supposed they're different types of tired. I was not the sort of tired that you get when you've done to much, or pushed your body to extreme, or pulled an all-nighter for no good reason, just to feel like you did in college, but a tiredness that results from routine, from monotony. But don't cry for me dear blog readers (if I may steal the line of the lovely Madonn.. err Eva Peron), because for me monotony is a strange word, as I've become quite spoiled with the spectrum and assortment of activities that are presented to me throughout these Paraguayan weeks and months. When I say routine I realize its been two weeks of the same job, which has been interposed with trips to the movies, delicious trips for lomito arabe (think pita pocket), and even a hat throw into the bread making ring at a local bread shop... (which I must say, I was quite pleased with what came out of the oven).
So we, Team Paraguay (+1 Sam White, a friend, a teacher, and an inspiration to us all), decided to break this routine, by going to one of the most dangerous places (according to several reliable sources) in all of South America, Cuidad del Este, a border town. Shady, right? We showed up Friday night greeted in the terminal by Daniel, our taxi driver, a belligerent drunk/drugged dude and two guys fighting.
After that it was pretty tranquilo, seeing the sights of Ciudad del Este (Saltos de Monday, the Zoo, Friendship Bridge, the crowded market streets. Sadly, Itaipu Dam was closed for the weekend) on a rainy, holiday weekend. Not the best time to go, but fun was had, and a must see was checked off of our Paraguay to do list.
And now I'm back. In Asunción. Listening to the rain on the rooftop mixed with the sufficient but unimpressive speakers of my laptop. And I'm appreciative.
I am appreciative for the ability to travel. I'm appreciative to see more than my hometown, to see different cultures, to compare that to my own experiences to that of others. I'm appreciative of the contrasts, of the differences, and of the foods that are served. I'm appreciative of my friends and family, old and new, near and far. I'm appreciative for the people that I've met and have shaped me, making me, me. I'm appreciative for the gifts I've received, the concrete but mostly the kind that doesn't come with a bow. I'm appreciative of the God that loves.
I woke up this morning tired, wanting to stay where I was, knowing that outside of my covers was not a place I wanted to be. But with steely resolve (and after three slaps of the large, well placed button entitled snooze), I threw off the covers and shook off my tiredness to face a day even Rachel Myers would call dreary (she's living in England).
But the point of this blog entry isn't to tell you how cloudy and stormy the day was, but rather to let you know why I am tired. I am tired because, I travel, and I travelled because I'm tired. But I supposed they're different types of tired. I was not the sort of tired that you get when you've done to much, or pushed your body to extreme, or pulled an all-nighter for no good reason, just to feel like you did in college, but a tiredness that results from routine, from monotony. But don't cry for me dear blog readers (if I may steal the line of the lovely Madonn.. err Eva Peron), because for me monotony is a strange word, as I've become quite spoiled with the spectrum and assortment of activities that are presented to me throughout these Paraguayan weeks and months. When I say routine I realize its been two weeks of the same job, which has been interposed with trips to the movies, delicious trips for lomito arabe (think pita pocket), and even a hat throw into the bread making ring at a local bread shop... (which I must say, I was quite pleased with what came out of the oven).
So we, Team Paraguay (+1 Sam White, a friend, a teacher, and an inspiration to us all), decided to break this routine, by going to one of the most dangerous places (according to several reliable sources) in all of South America, Cuidad del Este, a border town. Shady, right? We showed up Friday night greeted in the terminal by Daniel, our taxi driver, a belligerent drunk/drugged dude and two guys fighting.
After that it was pretty tranquilo, seeing the sights of Ciudad del Este (Saltos de Monday, the Zoo, Friendship Bridge, the crowded market streets. Sadly, Itaipu Dam was closed for the weekend) on a rainy, holiday weekend. Not the best time to go, but fun was had, and a must see was checked off of our Paraguay to do list.
And now I'm back. In Asunción. Listening to the rain on the rooftop mixed with the sufficient but unimpressive speakers of my laptop. And I'm appreciative.
I am appreciative for the ability to travel. I'm appreciative to see more than my hometown, to see different cultures, to compare that to my own experiences to that of others. I'm appreciative of the contrasts, of the differences, and of the foods that are served. I'm appreciative of my friends and family, old and new, near and far. I'm appreciative for the people that I've met and have shaped me, making me, me. I'm appreciative for the gifts I've received, the concrete but mostly the kind that doesn't come with a bow. I'm appreciative of the God that loves.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
April doce
So here I am, seven out of ten months completed, 3 more months to go in RADICAL JOURNEY: IMMERSION. It isn’t quite as intense as it sounds, although I do feel pretty BA when I say it.
I’m back in Decesiones, fighting for the young, impressionable minds of Paraguay, educating them on how to approach their sexuality. Or not me per say but rather working as a gear in the automobile that is Decesiones. I’m a little frustrated though, because right now, all this gear is doing is putting in student info in a large database. Very repetitive. But fear not, dear reader, I am pushing for change, pushing for greater responsibilities. For example, I put on my gardener’s gloves (figuratively) and volunteered to do a little landscaping because, well, the arbustos (bushes) and pasto (grass) were getting a little out of hand. It was a nice change of pace. But it's a balance between, doing what the organization needs me to do, and doing something that I get fulfillment and enjoyment out of. I really want to help out... I want to understand what service means, but if that means sitting in front of a computer all day typing up cool things like people’s e-mail addresses and six last names... sometimes, yeah. what if I don’t like that? Am I really 'doing God's work? well it sure isn't glamorous... (and yeah, I think what God wants us to do rarely is glamorous) While I’m committed to helping out with the database to the best of my ability, I’m also asking about other ways in which I can help at my service location. That’s my conclusion... or at least my shortened, simplified blog edited conclusion.
Exciting things are happening though. Rose, Jono and I have started a stellar English class every Monday night, and all the students are cool, and motivated to learn. It’s pretty basic, but we have good times and I think we’re advancing quite nicely. We did the whole family tree bit last night. It was pretty good, though I think I caught Jono off-guard when I talked about marrying his sister as an example for brother-in-law. I reassured him that it was merely for the example and that I am well aware that she is 'way too young for me.'
I’ve just gotten back from a couple of vacations, one the Chaco, the scorching hot, desert-like, north region of Paraguay. This is where the Mennonites like to hang out. We spent the better part of the week (5/7 if you’re into fractions) in the Chaco, mostly on the ranch of my host mom’s dad. Fun was had. It’s relaxing too; when it’s just you, open space, two thousand cattle and other assorted animals. And Sunday I got to participate in an Easter Egg hunt. My little brother may have beaten me in number of eggs, but I still say it’s because I had just woken up, and sleep gunk clouded my otherwise ‘hawk-like’ vision.
The week before Team Paraguay took Buenos Aires by storm, renewing our Visas as well as seeing many of the Porteño sights (Buenos Aires nickname of sorts... its more often used to describe the inhabitants, ie Porteños) from Puente de la Mujer (Woman Bridge), to the Presidential Casa Rosada (yes, the Pink House) to the La Boca neighborhood.
Well, I could be a little more about the detail, but it’s getting dark and I have matters to attend to. So... I hope you enjoyed this blog after my two-month hiatus. Oh, and this is a historic post by the way... I now have as many posts as followers. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I’ll just assume it’s trivial.
I’m back in Decesiones, fighting for the young, impressionable minds of Paraguay, educating them on how to approach their sexuality. Or not me per say but rather working as a gear in the automobile that is Decesiones. I’m a little frustrated though, because right now, all this gear is doing is putting in student info in a large database. Very repetitive. But fear not, dear reader, I am pushing for change, pushing for greater responsibilities. For example, I put on my gardener’s gloves (figuratively) and volunteered to do a little landscaping because, well, the arbustos (bushes) and pasto (grass) were getting a little out of hand. It was a nice change of pace. But it's a balance between, doing what the organization needs me to do, and doing something that I get fulfillment and enjoyment out of. I really want to help out... I want to understand what service means, but if that means sitting in front of a computer all day typing up cool things like people’s e-mail addresses and six last names... sometimes, yeah. what if I don’t like that? Am I really 'doing God's work? well it sure isn't glamorous... (and yeah, I think what God wants us to do rarely is glamorous) While I’m committed to helping out with the database to the best of my ability, I’m also asking about other ways in which I can help at my service location. That’s my conclusion... or at least my shortened, simplified blog edited conclusion.
Exciting things are happening though. Rose, Jono and I have started a stellar English class every Monday night, and all the students are cool, and motivated to learn. It’s pretty basic, but we have good times and I think we’re advancing quite nicely. We did the whole family tree bit last night. It was pretty good, though I think I caught Jono off-guard when I talked about marrying his sister as an example for brother-in-law. I reassured him that it was merely for the example and that I am well aware that she is 'way too young for me.'
I’ve just gotten back from a couple of vacations, one the Chaco, the scorching hot, desert-like, north region of Paraguay. This is where the Mennonites like to hang out. We spent the better part of the week (5/7 if you’re into fractions) in the Chaco, mostly on the ranch of my host mom’s dad. Fun was had. It’s relaxing too; when it’s just you, open space, two thousand cattle and other assorted animals. And Sunday I got to participate in an Easter Egg hunt. My little brother may have beaten me in number of eggs, but I still say it’s because I had just woken up, and sleep gunk clouded my otherwise ‘hawk-like’ vision.
The week before Team Paraguay took Buenos Aires by storm, renewing our Visas as well as seeing many of the Porteño sights (Buenos Aires nickname of sorts... its more often used to describe the inhabitants, ie Porteños) from Puente de la Mujer (Woman Bridge), to the Presidential Casa Rosada (yes, the Pink House) to the La Boca neighborhood.
Well, I could be a little more about the detail, but it’s getting dark and I have matters to attend to. So... I hope you enjoyed this blog after my two-month hiatus. Oh, and this is a historic post by the way... I now have as many posts as followers. I don’t know if that’s a good or bad thing. I’ll just assume it’s trivial.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
A street corner named Disney
I´m not sure what to write about, so I´ll just write what happened in the past 30 minutes or so. This is me trying to be descriptive.
I lean up against the counter of one of the many fine agencies of Nuestra Señora de la Asunción (Our Lady of the Assumption. A quality people bussing company with a slightly Catholic slant.) The cajera chatters excitedly with a rep for NSA on the phone relaying information back and forth, forth and back. She asks me a question. "No, Ruth isn´t my sister, my last name starts with a P," I say, smiling (Weber ≠ Penner, I dunno maybe we bear some resemblance). She resumes comfirming our trip to Encarnación for the coming weekend, writing, once, twice. Encarnación, it turns out, is the Carnaval capital of Paraguay, (you know... kinda like Mardi Gras) and we happen to be headed there for prime party time. We went for the ruins (of the Jesuit variety. link.) but we might get a little more than we expected. Hmm... I get jolted awake by the blood-curling shriek of a man selling chipa. Normally they sound quite pleasant, but this man has developed a knack for grabbing the attention of everyone in the tienda, as well as the street, as well as the other side of the street, and so on.
My mind drifts to an e-mail my Uncle H.A. sent me today which boldly reads, IS THIS THE BLIZZARD OF 2010?. I chuckle. I try to imagine myself being cold, in a blizzard... nope. The 100 degree temperatures and sweat-drenched shirt do not permit. I look out at the people in the street, buses bustling by ejecting clouds of semi-noxious fumes while people stroll by with their thermos´of tereré, one of the few defenses against the suffocating heat. It´s comfortably familiar - all of this - the sights, the smells, the sounds. I know this, this is where I live, it´s home.
"Señor?" She gives me our five tickets for Encarnación, departure time 00:00 Friday morning. I like travelling in the night better, I think... because then I sleep, and its like it only took me seconds to get there, much like the Teleporter from Star Trek or whatever that thing is from Harry Potter (Harry Potter fans help me out here. ok, so I was going to use nerds, but fans seems like a much friendlier term. Go get ´em fans!). I shell out the 330 mil (60 bucks) for my 5 pasajes (tickets) and we exchange nods, smiles and friendly words of departure. I head out out to sun where I squint how I´d imagine a small bear cub would after its first winter of hibernation, minus the large shaggy coat and incredible appetite for berries. I do enjoy honey however.
So I walk back to MEDA, feeling accomplished due to the several things crossed off my to do list. I stumble in from the heat into the air conditioning pockets loaded with important pieces of paper and hands with things that MEDA needs (like hierba, batteries and tonic water. otherwise known as The Big Three). I sheepishly pull out a wad of slightly damp (I have sweaty thighs, problem?) and wrinkled bills for Jannette, the accountant, and gingerly place the equally damp and sweaty reciept on top. I ask if there is anything else I can do... "no," was the overly drawn out reply after much sorting and rustling of papers. "She´s just playing me," I think to myself. And then, rejuvenated by the A/C, I walk with a spring in my step to my incredibly rectangular desk to post on my blog.
Ok, so I wasn't on Disney St... it's about 4 blocks over, I was going for the whole play on words. Sorry if you feel cheated. Leave a post if you have a idea what in world I was referring to with the whole Harry Potter business, if you think I more resemble Ruth or a bear, or if you too have a glandular problem.
Thanks for listening,
Daniel
I lean up against the counter of one of the many fine agencies of Nuestra Señora de la Asunción (Our Lady of the Assumption. A quality people bussing company with a slightly Catholic slant.) The cajera chatters excitedly with a rep for NSA on the phone relaying information back and forth, forth and back. She asks me a question. "No, Ruth isn´t my sister, my last name starts with a P," I say, smiling (Weber ≠ Penner, I dunno maybe we bear some resemblance). She resumes comfirming our trip to Encarnación for the coming weekend, writing, once, twice. Encarnación, it turns out, is the Carnaval capital of Paraguay, (you know... kinda like Mardi Gras) and we happen to be headed there for prime party time. We went for the ruins (of the Jesuit variety. link.) but we might get a little more than we expected. Hmm... I get jolted awake by the blood-curling shriek of a man selling chipa. Normally they sound quite pleasant, but this man has developed a knack for grabbing the attention of everyone in the tienda, as well as the street, as well as the other side of the street, and so on.
My mind drifts to an e-mail my Uncle H.A. sent me today which boldly reads, IS THIS THE BLIZZARD OF 2010?. I chuckle. I try to imagine myself being cold, in a blizzard... nope. The 100 degree temperatures and sweat-drenched shirt do not permit. I look out at the people in the street, buses bustling by ejecting clouds of semi-noxious fumes while people stroll by with their thermos´of tereré, one of the few defenses against the suffocating heat. It´s comfortably familiar - all of this - the sights, the smells, the sounds. I know this, this is where I live, it´s home.
"Señor?" She gives me our five tickets for Encarnación, departure time 00:00 Friday morning. I like travelling in the night better, I think... because then I sleep, and its like it only took me seconds to get there, much like the Teleporter from Star Trek or whatever that thing is from Harry Potter (Harry Potter fans help me out here. ok, so I was going to use nerds, but fans seems like a much friendlier term. Go get ´em fans!). I shell out the 330 mil (60 bucks) for my 5 pasajes (tickets) and we exchange nods, smiles and friendly words of departure. I head out out to sun where I squint how I´d imagine a small bear cub would after its first winter of hibernation, minus the large shaggy coat and incredible appetite for berries. I do enjoy honey however.
So I walk back to MEDA, feeling accomplished due to the several things crossed off my to do list. I stumble in from the heat into the air conditioning pockets loaded with important pieces of paper and hands with things that MEDA needs (like hierba, batteries and tonic water. otherwise known as The Big Three). I sheepishly pull out a wad of slightly damp (I have sweaty thighs, problem?) and wrinkled bills for Jannette, the accountant, and gingerly place the equally damp and sweaty reciept on top. I ask if there is anything else I can do... "no," was the overly drawn out reply after much sorting and rustling of papers. "She´s just playing me," I think to myself. And then, rejuvenated by the A/C, I walk with a spring in my step to my incredibly rectangular desk to post on my blog.
Ok, so I wasn't on Disney St... it's about 4 blocks over, I was going for the whole play on words. Sorry if you feel cheated. Leave a post if you have a idea what in world I was referring to with the whole Harry Potter business, if you think I more resemble Ruth or a bear, or if you too have a glandular problem.
Thanks for listening,
Daniel
Tuesday, January 5, 2010
a vidgeo.
check it out. I highly recommend it. Waterfalls, butterflies, team Paraguay... you couldn't ask for much more.
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