A day or two ago my neighbors killed a cow, a very common, typical event in Paraguay. Then they decided to roast the head for a few hours because Paraguayans tend to be quite resourceful. Although eating the cow head isn’t always very popular, it isn’t totally unusual to cook and head the whole cow head. Since one of the volunteers lives with the family, several of us were invited over to enjoy the spoils, aka roasted cow head. I knew that I at least wanted to see the remains of the cow and watch other people poke around and eat random parts the head of some dead cow, but I really wasn’t sure I wanted to try it. After watching a few people rip off pieces of meat, I decided that as gross as it might be, I might not ever get this opportunity again and how many people get to say they ate a cow head?
I must say, cow tongue actually tastes pretty good and I think that was my favorite part. While a couple of the guys were viciously digging in, I timidly poked around eating a few small bites of meat trying to convince myself not to be completely grossed out. When they started pulling out the eye, I was pretty disgusted, but you know cow eye really doesn’t taste all that bad. For those of you with weak stomachs I won’t go into more detail, but once you get over what it looks like and the rather squishy texture, you can almost convince yourself that you’re eating regular meat. Yes, I’m telling the truth, I ate cow eye and I have pictures to prove it. At that’s not even the end of the story; I also tasted the brain and cow brain tastes like fish. Although the whole experience really wasn’t all that bad, I have no intentions of repeating it, I don’t even typically eat regular cow meat, much less unidentifiable parts that come from it’s head. However, the next time someone asks me, “what’s the strangest thing you’ve ever eaten?” I think I’ll have them beat.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Monday, March 1, 2010
I think our bus definitely almost just hit that moto
So I know a lot of people say that LA drivers are crazy. Let me correct you: LA drivers generally safe drivers who know how to get where they are going fast and follow the laws; Paraguayans are crazy drivers who tend to make their own rules as they drive. As a PCT and PCV, I am not allowed to operate a car or moto (in fact riding on a moto at any time will result in my return to the United States). Because of that, my main mode of transportation is taking the bus, and I used to think that taking the bus in the US sucked. I stand corrected.
First, there usually aren’t official bus stops and instead, you wait by the side of the road and when the right bus comes down the road, you raise your hand in the air to let them know you want on. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to wait long but I have waited for over 45 minutes more than once. If there’s a line of people getting on or off they have to come to a complete stop, but if you’re the only one it’s kind of more of a rolling stop as you step on and they are already stepping on the gas as you’re handing them change and making your way onto the bus. Again, if you’re lucky, there’s an open seat but more than likely, you will have to stand, particularly during “rush hour.”
There really is no “maximum capacity” and they will continue to pack on more people even in 95 degree heat plus humidity. One morning on our way to training 4 of us got on a bus and I honestly wasn’t sure the 4 of us would fit. I was definitely wrong because I think 10 more people got on before anyone else got off. The 4 of us were spooning standing up and one of the girls didn’t even have to hold onto anything it was so crammed. The whole bus experience is further complicated when you’re wearing a backpack not only because it takes up more space, but because you have to wear it on your front so nothing gets stolen in the chaotic mish-mosh of people. When there actually is a little room to breath and move, you have to hold on to rails on the ceiling or onto the seats to keep from falling over.
I thought I had good balance until I got onto a bus in Paraguay. I don’t know how they do it, but I’ve seen many Paraguayans make their way through a bus not holding onto anything and not even come close to falling. More than once, I’ve almost fallen over, even when I’m holding on for dear life because the bus drivers have lead feet and slam on the brakes faster than I used to in LA traffic. It is not uncommon for a bus to drive into the other lane (of oncoming traffic) to pass a car or moto that is driving too slow. Also most intersections don’t really have stop lights unless you’re in the city, so when there’s a lot of cars, it tends to be a race to see who can get across the intersection first. If there is a car coming from the left, you just keep pushing your way through the intersection and hope you block the car from going any further so you can be the first one across. I also think that lanes or more of a suggestion than an actual law. My first day on a bus I was positive we were going to hit a car and in fact we got so close you couldn’t even see the car anymore. It never fails to surprise and scare me when our bus come inches from running into a moto or other car on the road, but so far I haven’t been in any accidents so apparently these bus drivers have something going for them.
The drive is further entertaining depending on where you’re going and what kind of people you get on your bus. Any white person in Paraguay stands out like a sore thumb, so I get stares pretty much everywhere I go. Yesterday I was on a bus to Asuncion and this old guy behind me asked me where I was from so I told him I was from the United States. We got into a conversation and then he asked me if I was German or American. I’m not really sure which part of “I’m from the United States” he didn’t understand, but apparently he needed further clarification. Also, once you get into the city there are usually vendors that hop on the bus and walk through the bus trying to sell their product and hop off a block or two later. Most of the time it’s stuff like gum, nail clippers, or newspapers, but one guy got on my bus yesterday that was selling some sort of liquid that apparently cured every ailment from headaches and rashes to tiredness and ulcers. I wonder if it could make you immune to heat and humidity…
I think public transportation kinda sucks no matter where you are, you just have less personal space in certain places. I still haven’t gotten used to busses almost running people off the road, but like I said, I haven’t gotten in an accident yet. Once you kinda get used to the busses, it’s really not all that bad and it feels a little bit normal, but maybe that’s because it’s been too long since I’ve driven on a freeway.
First, there usually aren’t official bus stops and instead, you wait by the side of the road and when the right bus comes down the road, you raise your hand in the air to let them know you want on. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to wait long but I have waited for over 45 minutes more than once. If there’s a line of people getting on or off they have to come to a complete stop, but if you’re the only one it’s kind of more of a rolling stop as you step on and they are already stepping on the gas as you’re handing them change and making your way onto the bus. Again, if you’re lucky, there’s an open seat but more than likely, you will have to stand, particularly during “rush hour.”
There really is no “maximum capacity” and they will continue to pack on more people even in 95 degree heat plus humidity. One morning on our way to training 4 of us got on a bus and I honestly wasn’t sure the 4 of us would fit. I was definitely wrong because I think 10 more people got on before anyone else got off. The 4 of us were spooning standing up and one of the girls didn’t even have to hold onto anything it was so crammed. The whole bus experience is further complicated when you’re wearing a backpack not only because it takes up more space, but because you have to wear it on your front so nothing gets stolen in the chaotic mish-mosh of people. When there actually is a little room to breath and move, you have to hold on to rails on the ceiling or onto the seats to keep from falling over.
I thought I had good balance until I got onto a bus in Paraguay. I don’t know how they do it, but I’ve seen many Paraguayans make their way through a bus not holding onto anything and not even come close to falling. More than once, I’ve almost fallen over, even when I’m holding on for dear life because the bus drivers have lead feet and slam on the brakes faster than I used to in LA traffic. It is not uncommon for a bus to drive into the other lane (of oncoming traffic) to pass a car or moto that is driving too slow. Also most intersections don’t really have stop lights unless you’re in the city, so when there’s a lot of cars, it tends to be a race to see who can get across the intersection first. If there is a car coming from the left, you just keep pushing your way through the intersection and hope you block the car from going any further so you can be the first one across. I also think that lanes or more of a suggestion than an actual law. My first day on a bus I was positive we were going to hit a car and in fact we got so close you couldn’t even see the car anymore. It never fails to surprise and scare me when our bus come inches from running into a moto or other car on the road, but so far I haven’t been in any accidents so apparently these bus drivers have something going for them.
The drive is further entertaining depending on where you’re going and what kind of people you get on your bus. Any white person in Paraguay stands out like a sore thumb, so I get stares pretty much everywhere I go. Yesterday I was on a bus to Asuncion and this old guy behind me asked me where I was from so I told him I was from the United States. We got into a conversation and then he asked me if I was German or American. I’m not really sure which part of “I’m from the United States” he didn’t understand, but apparently he needed further clarification. Also, once you get into the city there are usually vendors that hop on the bus and walk through the bus trying to sell their product and hop off a block or two later. Most of the time it’s stuff like gum, nail clippers, or newspapers, but one guy got on my bus yesterday that was selling some sort of liquid that apparently cured every ailment from headaches and rashes to tiredness and ulcers. I wonder if it could make you immune to heat and humidity…
I think public transportation kinda sucks no matter where you are, you just have less personal space in certain places. I still haven’t gotten used to busses almost running people off the road, but like I said, I haven’t gotten in an accident yet. Once you kinda get used to the busses, it’s really not all that bad and it feels a little bit normal, but maybe that’s because it’s been too long since I’ve driven on a freeway.
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Don´t drink the diarrhea water: lessons from rural paraguay
When we all arrived in Paraguay, we were told that our host families would be boiling our water for a week, and after that it was up to us if we wanted to purify our water or not. We were also told that the water may or may not make us sick at first, but either way, it was almost guaranteed that we would have problems at some point. My first day here, I double checked with my mom that the water bottle in the fridge was purified, just to make sure. she said yes, so I drank it. Then later, the same night, my sister was making lime juice (fresh squeezed lime, water, and TONS of sugar) and when she went to add the water, she went straight to the faucets outside to fill it up. There went all my hopes and dreams of drinking purified water for a week, so I decided to suck it up and just drink the water. Besides, they put ice in everything, and the ice is definitely just frozen faucet water.
I was totally fine for the first few days and then I drank what I think was the most stale water in the world (it had been sitting in the smelly fridge for a few days) and I also drank out of a faucet near a futbol field. I´m not really sure if it was the stale water or the futbol feild water, but the next day I was feeling not so bueno. Maybe in the US talking about bodily functions isn´t socially acceptable, but in Peace Corps, anything goes. Some of us have actually started refering to bad water as ¨diarrhea water.¨ I literaly had multiple conversations like this with several people today.
¨So, you know that stale water I drank yesterday´? I´m pretty sure it´s diarrhea water.¨
¨Yah, I´m feeling a little queezy too, you think it´s the water from the futbol feild?¨
¨No, I definitely had it the worst. I went to flush the toilet today and it didn´t work and I had to have my mom help me.¨
As gross as it may sound, the ¨diarrhea water¨ has become a common topic amongst Peace Corps trainees. We actually had a 30 minute health presentation today just on diarrhea, and none of us have reservations about sharing our experiences. I think I even had once conversation about the frequency of poop since we´ve been in Paraguay... buuut, that´s probably a little too much information to post all over the internet.
In addition to avoiding certain faucets, I´m trying to find a good ratio of how many guavas to eat (high in fiber) per meal of carbs and cheese (almost every meal and not so high in fiber). I think a couple of days ago I have 7 guavas... they were amazing. The food has most definitely been the hardest think to adjust to. I have eaten the strangest things in Paraguay and I´m still not always sure what I´m eating. The first day here, my mom was told that I don´t eat red meat and in less than a week I was fed pig, hot dog and some unidentifiable chewy, fatty meat. I think maybe I should have elaborated on my meat-eating habits. Every once in a while I get a good meal like mashed potatoes and fried eggplant, or beans with tomato, eggs, and lime juice. My favorite thing I´ve gotten so far is beer with fresh coconut in it. Most days though, I can´t force it all down. I´m sure I´ll adjust to it, and I think I´m going to ask her about vegetables. But until then, I´m supplementing my meals with stuff I bought at the store, like carrots and peanuts, and the guavas I constantly pick off our tree.
This whole thing probably sounds completely crazy, but even though I´ve only been here a week, it has become normal. By the way, if anyone wants to send me anything, dried fruits and nuts would be amazing! For now, I´m off to dinner.. hopefully it will be something that I actually know. Maybe even a cucumber salad...
I was totally fine for the first few days and then I drank what I think was the most stale water in the world (it had been sitting in the smelly fridge for a few days) and I also drank out of a faucet near a futbol field. I´m not really sure if it was the stale water or the futbol feild water, but the next day I was feeling not so bueno. Maybe in the US talking about bodily functions isn´t socially acceptable, but in Peace Corps, anything goes. Some of us have actually started refering to bad water as ¨diarrhea water.¨ I literaly had multiple conversations like this with several people today.
¨So, you know that stale water I drank yesterday´? I´m pretty sure it´s diarrhea water.¨
¨Yah, I´m feeling a little queezy too, you think it´s the water from the futbol feild?¨
¨No, I definitely had it the worst. I went to flush the toilet today and it didn´t work and I had to have my mom help me.¨
As gross as it may sound, the ¨diarrhea water¨ has become a common topic amongst Peace Corps trainees. We actually had a 30 minute health presentation today just on diarrhea, and none of us have reservations about sharing our experiences. I think I even had once conversation about the frequency of poop since we´ve been in Paraguay... buuut, that´s probably a little too much information to post all over the internet.
In addition to avoiding certain faucets, I´m trying to find a good ratio of how many guavas to eat (high in fiber) per meal of carbs and cheese (almost every meal and not so high in fiber). I think a couple of days ago I have 7 guavas... they were amazing. The food has most definitely been the hardest think to adjust to. I have eaten the strangest things in Paraguay and I´m still not always sure what I´m eating. The first day here, my mom was told that I don´t eat red meat and in less than a week I was fed pig, hot dog and some unidentifiable chewy, fatty meat. I think maybe I should have elaborated on my meat-eating habits. Every once in a while I get a good meal like mashed potatoes and fried eggplant, or beans with tomato, eggs, and lime juice. My favorite thing I´ve gotten so far is beer with fresh coconut in it. Most days though, I can´t force it all down. I´m sure I´ll adjust to it, and I think I´m going to ask her about vegetables. But until then, I´m supplementing my meals with stuff I bought at the store, like carrots and peanuts, and the guavas I constantly pick off our tree.
This whole thing probably sounds completely crazy, but even though I´ve only been here a week, it has become normal. By the way, if anyone wants to send me anything, dried fruits and nuts would be amazing! For now, I´m off to dinner.. hopefully it will be something that I actually know. Maybe even a cucumber salad...
Friday, February 12, 2010
sweat, toilets, and raw eggs
How do I explain everything that has happened to me over the last few days? I really don´t think it´s possible and it´s something you have to experience for youself like my fellow volunteers, but I will do my best to at least give you some sort of a shadow into my last few days. When we finally arrived in Paraguay Wedndesday morning, I had had about 11 hours of sleep in the past 3 days and it had been probably at least 24 hours since my last real meal. Although I would have gladly curled up in a ball on the airport floor and passed out (trust me, at that point I probably could have), I couldn´t help but smile at the group of people waiting outside to greet us and cheer for us. I think it was a needed reminder to why I wanted to be here in the first place.
I won´t go into all of the details of my training and host family not only because it would probably be just as boring for me to write it as it would be for you to read it, but also because it would take way to long to describe everything. So,I´ll try and give you just a few highlights. There have been very few moments since my arrival that I have not been very aware of the fact that I am a foreigner. The ever present one is the sweat. I started sweating the second I stepped off the plane and I haven´t stopped since except for the few minutes spent in the shower. (Yes, I shower every day now out of necessity). As soon as you step out of the shower you start sweating again. The first time I took a shower here, I think I dried myself of at least 3 times and kept getting confused as to why I was still wet. Finally I realized it wasn´t water, but sweat and I wouldn´t get dry until I went outside and sat in the shade and drank terere.
I know some of you have been wondering whether I actually have running water and a toilet. Good news for me! I do, and it´s great! The shower is really more of a constant dribble of water out of a shower head than a fawcet, and it´s close enough to touch the toilet with your foot while you are showering. And like most countries in South America, you have to throw away your toilet paper when you´re done. But, it works and I´m thankful.
Another constant reminder is the food. I´m not sure if I´m going to get used to the food here. Today for lunch I had fried eggplant and mashed potatoes and it was delicous. It reminded me a little bit of home. Last night though, I had some sort of mixture that was rice, beans, and I think raw eggs all warmed up. I truly tried my best to finish it but couldn´t and I went to bed hungry.
Everything is different here, and a lot of things are turning out to be strange and hard, but I love it here. Everything is green except for the bright red dirt roads and to a girl that has seen stop lights and parking lots instead of trees and feilds, the change is welcome. The people here are incredibly friendly and everyone wants to know everything about me.
I wish I could write more, but I have to catch a bus back to my house... hopefully there won´t be 50 people on it like there was yesterday with barely enough room to move around...
I won´t go into all of the details of my training and host family not only because it would probably be just as boring for me to write it as it would be for you to read it, but also because it would take way to long to describe everything. So,I´ll try and give you just a few highlights. There have been very few moments since my arrival that I have not been very aware of the fact that I am a foreigner. The ever present one is the sweat. I started sweating the second I stepped off the plane and I haven´t stopped since except for the few minutes spent in the shower. (Yes, I shower every day now out of necessity). As soon as you step out of the shower you start sweating again. The first time I took a shower here, I think I dried myself of at least 3 times and kept getting confused as to why I was still wet. Finally I realized it wasn´t water, but sweat and I wouldn´t get dry until I went outside and sat in the shade and drank terere.
I know some of you have been wondering whether I actually have running water and a toilet. Good news for me! I do, and it´s great! The shower is really more of a constant dribble of water out of a shower head than a fawcet, and it´s close enough to touch the toilet with your foot while you are showering. And like most countries in South America, you have to throw away your toilet paper when you´re done. But, it works and I´m thankful.
Another constant reminder is the food. I´m not sure if I´m going to get used to the food here. Today for lunch I had fried eggplant and mashed potatoes and it was delicous. It reminded me a little bit of home. Last night though, I had some sort of mixture that was rice, beans, and I think raw eggs all warmed up. I truly tried my best to finish it but couldn´t and I went to bed hungry.
Everything is different here, and a lot of things are turning out to be strange and hard, but I love it here. Everything is green except for the bright red dirt roads and to a girl that has seen stop lights and parking lots instead of trees and feilds, the change is welcome. The people here are incredibly friendly and everyone wants to know everything about me.
I wish I could write more, but I have to catch a bus back to my house... hopefully there won´t be 50 people on it like there was yesterday with barely enough room to move around...
Monday, February 8, 2010
day 1 complete
So day one is officially completed. I think I got a full 4 hours of sleep to get me ready for my first day of shock (aka what am I doing??), so I’m feeling a little out of it. Once I said goodbye to my uncle and my mom at the airport, it got harder and harder to put one foot in front of the other and keep walking toward security. I’ve never questioned whether I wanted to do this or not, I’m just realizing more and more how hard it is to actually go through with it. Once we took off, I had to hold the tears back as I watched the Pacific coastline disappear, knowing that I probably won’t see that again for a very long time. I felt like the whole day I kept going through waves of different emotions ranging between excitement, dread, curiosity, fear and sadness. For a while I had to shut my emotions off so I wouldn’t find myself freaking out on the plane. But, all that said, my plane landed safely, I got to the hotel, and I was able to hold myself together the whole time… well, almost the whole time.
Tonight I had my first Peace Corps “event.” It wasn’t really so much an event as it was a turn-in-your-paperwork and get-your-passport-back type of thing. (Yes, that’s right. I have not had my passport since I sent it to the Peace Corps in November.) I think in the midst of turning in paperwork and signing more paperwork I met about 15 new people. Problem is, I don’t think I remember anyone’s name. Luckily for me, that seemed a common trend so I guess everyone is ok with telling everyone else their name 10 times because no one can remember anything at this point. A pretty large group of us walked across the street for dinner/drinks and started to get to know each other. I can’t say how comforting it was to find out that everyone else seemed to be in the same boat. Forgot all your Spanish? Good, me too. You still don’t feel like you know what you’re doing so you keep telling people stuff like, “you know, I’m teaching them about washing their hands,” silently praying they don’t ask anymore questions because you still don’t know the answers. Awesome, that’s what I’ve been doing too. You feel like you forgot something? Yah, me too… oh no, I actually did remember my underwear. How did you forget that?? Everyone still seemed in a little bit of a shock trying to grasp the reality of how long 27 months really was and what that meant while at the same time wanting to forget reality for just a little while longer.
But, ready or not, we are leaving tomorrow night!! Less than 24 hours and I will be on my way along with my newly found friends (even if I can’t remember any of their names) to Paraguay! In the mean time, I’m going to try and catch up on some of that sleep I should have gotten last night.
Tonight I had my first Peace Corps “event.” It wasn’t really so much an event as it was a turn-in-your-paperwork and get-your-passport-back type of thing. (Yes, that’s right. I have not had my passport since I sent it to the Peace Corps in November.) I think in the midst of turning in paperwork and signing more paperwork I met about 15 new people. Problem is, I don’t think I remember anyone’s name. Luckily for me, that seemed a common trend so I guess everyone is ok with telling everyone else their name 10 times because no one can remember anything at this point. A pretty large group of us walked across the street for dinner/drinks and started to get to know each other. I can’t say how comforting it was to find out that everyone else seemed to be in the same boat. Forgot all your Spanish? Good, me too. You still don’t feel like you know what you’re doing so you keep telling people stuff like, “you know, I’m teaching them about washing their hands,” silently praying they don’t ask anymore questions because you still don’t know the answers. Awesome, that’s what I’ve been doing too. You feel like you forgot something? Yah, me too… oh no, I actually did remember my underwear. How did you forget that?? Everyone still seemed in a little bit of a shock trying to grasp the reality of how long 27 months really was and what that meant while at the same time wanting to forget reality for just a little while longer.
But, ready or not, we are leaving tomorrow night!! Less than 24 hours and I will be on my way along with my newly found friends (even if I can’t remember any of their names) to Paraguay! In the mean time, I’m going to try and catch up on some of that sleep I should have gotten last night.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
how to fit your life in a suitcase
First, compile a list of everything you might possibly want or need for the next two years in a developing country. Next, go to REI and Target and empty your bank account on all the glorious items those stores have to offer. Third, buy the biggest pieces of luggage you can find. Finally, pray that you can actually fit it all in the required TSA guidelines for luggage.
I’m probably a hypocrite for writing this because I haven’t actually started packing… actually, that’s a lie. I put my sleeping bag in a suitcase, but that’s the extent of my packing so far. I’ve realized I have issues packing until I have every single item out and since I still have a couple more items to buy, I can’t pack anything (except for said sleeping bag). I keep looking at the slowly accumulating pile of stuff on my floor thinking about how it’s all going to fit but not actually doing anything about it. I even took a picture of all the stuff I have to pack sitting next to the bags I’m going to pack it in. I have a feeling the whole experience of packing is going to be some sick and twisted version of a tetris game/jigsaw puzzle. Luckily, I’m good at both, so I promise I will win, not the suitcase or the pile of accumulated stuff.
I must say, this month has been an interesting one to say the least. I thought having a month off would give me a good amount of free time to relax before I left but I feel like I’ve been busier this month than when I was working. It takes a lot more time than I realized to compile a list of everything you might want or need for the next two years and an even longer time to go out and buy it. Not to mention you have to factor in the unanticipated yet unavoidable returns as well as multiple visits to the same store because you realized you forgot something or added to the list of things you didn’t know you needed. Then I made sure to meet up with almost everyone in my life to say goodbye for the next two years. (I must say, I’ve gotten quite a few free coffees, lunches, and dinners out of this month. Thanks guys! Maybe I should do this whole leaving thing more often.)
As I am collecting and packing everything up, I’m realizing how easy it is to define myself by my stuff. Suddenly I’m cutting all of my belongings down to two check-ons, a carry-on, and a “personal item.” My definition just got a whole lot smaller. And, my definition has to follow TSA guidelines and rules. I can’t put my cat in my suitcase even though he technically fits. There is still a piece of me that’s struggling with letting go of part of my identity so I can fully embrace the culture of Paraguay. As excited as I am to live in another country and learn another language, I’m still having a hard time imagining my life without peanut butter and frozen yogurt and I’m still weirded out when I look in a mirror and no long see a nose ring (I had to take it out because facial piercings are offensive in Paraguay). I guess it’s one step at a time. Even if I don’t have a constant supply of electrical energy, immediate access to the internet or a jar of peanut butter handy, I’ll still live. It’s part of the experience anyway, right? Well, that said, I’m off to pack my life into a suitcase… or maybe I’ll go find dessert first and then I'll start packing…
I’m probably a hypocrite for writing this because I haven’t actually started packing… actually, that’s a lie. I put my sleeping bag in a suitcase, but that’s the extent of my packing so far. I’ve realized I have issues packing until I have every single item out and since I still have a couple more items to buy, I can’t pack anything (except for said sleeping bag). I keep looking at the slowly accumulating pile of stuff on my floor thinking about how it’s all going to fit but not actually doing anything about it. I even took a picture of all the stuff I have to pack sitting next to the bags I’m going to pack it in. I have a feeling the whole experience of packing is going to be some sick and twisted version of a tetris game/jigsaw puzzle. Luckily, I’m good at both, so I promise I will win, not the suitcase or the pile of accumulated stuff.
I must say, this month has been an interesting one to say the least. I thought having a month off would give me a good amount of free time to relax before I left but I feel like I’ve been busier this month than when I was working. It takes a lot more time than I realized to compile a list of everything you might want or need for the next two years and an even longer time to go out and buy it. Not to mention you have to factor in the unanticipated yet unavoidable returns as well as multiple visits to the same store because you realized you forgot something or added to the list of things you didn’t know you needed. Then I made sure to meet up with almost everyone in my life to say goodbye for the next two years. (I must say, I’ve gotten quite a few free coffees, lunches, and dinners out of this month. Thanks guys! Maybe I should do this whole leaving thing more often.)
As I am collecting and packing everything up, I’m realizing how easy it is to define myself by my stuff. Suddenly I’m cutting all of my belongings down to two check-ons, a carry-on, and a “personal item.” My definition just got a whole lot smaller. And, my definition has to follow TSA guidelines and rules. I can’t put my cat in my suitcase even though he technically fits. There is still a piece of me that’s struggling with letting go of part of my identity so I can fully embrace the culture of Paraguay. As excited as I am to live in another country and learn another language, I’m still having a hard time imagining my life without peanut butter and frozen yogurt and I’m still weirded out when I look in a mirror and no long see a nose ring (I had to take it out because facial piercings are offensive in Paraguay). I guess it’s one step at a time. Even if I don’t have a constant supply of electrical energy, immediate access to the internet or a jar of peanut butter handy, I’ll still live. It’s part of the experience anyway, right? Well, that said, I’m off to pack my life into a suitcase… or maybe I’ll go find dessert first and then I'll start packing…
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