Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Bucket bathing in the campo
Last weekend all volunteers in training had to go visit a current volunteer at their site to see what the life of a volunteer is like. The trip in and of itself was quite entertaining as it ended with another trainee and me getting a ride from a Paraguayan guy (don’t worry, our volunteer was friends with him and had called in a favor) 40 minutes up the mountain through muddy, roads filled with pot-holes and ruts because the campo bus does not go through the campo when it rains. Oh, and did I mention this was a two-seater, stick-shift truck and somehow we fit the driver, two of us trainees, and two extremely large backpacks inside. I ended up sitting kind of sideways facing the steering wheel with one arm around the other trainee and the other arm falling asleep while the driver kept hitting my leg every time he switched gears. I found the whole thing quite entertaining.
When we finally arrived and went inside I felt like we had arrived in a sanctuary. Both me and the other trainee had gotten up at 5:30, walked half an hour, taken two busses after having waited over an hour for one of them, and stood for over 2 and a half hours on the second bus, not to mention the uncomfortable car ride up the mountain. Our volunteer had comfortable beds for both of us and told us she would cook us American food while we were there. I think I stopped mid-sentence when she pulled out the peanut butter jar and came close to jumping up and hugging her when she told me she had American coffee and a coffee maker. That night we had tacos with cheddar cheese she had brought back from the states and amazing guacamole and I remembered again how much I love real cheddar cheese (which by the way you can not buy in Paraguay).
Now before you go thinking she lives in some snazzy place let me tell you a little bit about her site. She lives in a campo that is 10k away from the nearest city and the bus only comes through her site 3 times a week, unless of course it rains, in which case it’s less than 3 times a week as we had the pleasure of experiencing. She’s also about 6-8k away from any other English speaking people and she lives on a mountain (or at least a mountain in Paraguay terms). No one in her site has running water, so she gets all her water from her well, uses a latrine, and bathes in a bucket. That means that every drop of water from drinking water to water she washes her dishes in and water she uses to brush her teeth has to get pulled up from a bucket in the well. Her latrine was built with the intention of having running water in the next few years, so it is an actual toilet seat and after you go to the bathroom you just pour water down to flush, which makes it pretty close to a normal toilet. The bucket bath was the fun part and after experiencing that, the possibility of not having running water doesn’t freak me out at all anymore. You basically have to squat down on the ground to wash yourself off and the only hard part is making sure you got all the shampoo out of your hair. While this whole daily ritual probably seems insane, it’s really quite simple, and I found it well worth the prize of a constant supply of peanut butter, coffee, and cheddar cheese for the weekend.
When we finally arrived and went inside I felt like we had arrived in a sanctuary. Both me and the other trainee had gotten up at 5:30, walked half an hour, taken two busses after having waited over an hour for one of them, and stood for over 2 and a half hours on the second bus, not to mention the uncomfortable car ride up the mountain. Our volunteer had comfortable beds for both of us and told us she would cook us American food while we were there. I think I stopped mid-sentence when she pulled out the peanut butter jar and came close to jumping up and hugging her when she told me she had American coffee and a coffee maker. That night we had tacos with cheddar cheese she had brought back from the states and amazing guacamole and I remembered again how much I love real cheddar cheese (which by the way you can not buy in Paraguay).
Now before you go thinking she lives in some snazzy place let me tell you a little bit about her site. She lives in a campo that is 10k away from the nearest city and the bus only comes through her site 3 times a week, unless of course it rains, in which case it’s less than 3 times a week as we had the pleasure of experiencing. She’s also about 6-8k away from any other English speaking people and she lives on a mountain (or at least a mountain in Paraguay terms). No one in her site has running water, so she gets all her water from her well, uses a latrine, and bathes in a bucket. That means that every drop of water from drinking water to water she washes her dishes in and water she uses to brush her teeth has to get pulled up from a bucket in the well. Her latrine was built with the intention of having running water in the next few years, so it is an actual toilet seat and after you go to the bathroom you just pour water down to flush, which makes it pretty close to a normal toilet. The bucket bath was the fun part and after experiencing that, the possibility of not having running water doesn’t freak me out at all anymore. You basically have to squat down on the ground to wash yourself off and the only hard part is making sure you got all the shampoo out of your hair. While this whole daily ritual probably seems insane, it’s really quite simple, and I found it well worth the prize of a constant supply of peanut butter, coffee, and cheddar cheese for the weekend.
That tasted like cow brain
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.
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.
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...
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