Rain is made of water. We are made of water, mostly. Our skin is waterproof, we don't melt in wanter and germs give you the flu, not water. So why is rain such a big deal for Paraguayans? Absolutely NOTHING happens here when it rains. Businesses close, school is closed, appointments are canceled and the only people out of doors are the homeless and a few hardy farmers in their chacras.
Usually, I don't mind this cultural quirk. In fact I rather enjoy it; I have time to plan tomorrow's English lesson, read one of my books, study Guaraní, or just chat with the family (aka. study Guaraní) in the smokey kitchen while chicks and dogs look up at me, eyes begging. Rainy days are home days. Days to relax and do your thing. Maybe this is why Paraguayans don't plan things. "Ikatu, otro día, puede ser mañana." (Could be, another day, maybe tomorrow.)
Well jeez. I'm American and I plan things. I have contingency plans. I have contingency contingency plans. I set goals and have semi-flexible schedules that I try to follow. I have expected outcomes and follow-up plans to build on my progress, aiming to achieve new heights of development and eventually save the world. What could be more Peace Corps than that?
My Health Camp was all planned: I folded, cut and stitched 45 damn booklets for the kids to record their progress and take home to show their families. Michelle kuña (or Michelle 1, as my host mom calls her) was all prepared to make friendship bracelets and do all kinds of other activities with the kids during craft time. Michel hombre (aka Michel 2) had written 5 wonderful, and actually very catchy songs about hand washing, tooth brushing and how you can't play and have fun when you're full of parasites. We practiced them in my house, and a few hours later I heard my host dad singing a little song to himself about drinking milk for healthy bones and teeth. I smiled.
And then it rains.
The weather report predicted rain on my origional start day. (The camp was scheduled to go for 3 mornings in succession.) But I was a clever one and made an "in case of rain" plan for the following week. It rained then too. My third desesperación day was rained out as well. Not only rainy, but cold. Lots of my kids don't have warm jackets, some don't have shoes. Rather than plan yet another back up, go around and tell the kids and parents, and then have it rain again, forever dooming the reliability of my plans, I decided to put it off until a more secure date.
And then, el Señor Murphy, High Lord of irony, makes his move. Winter vacation was extended for another week, and the weather is BEAUTIFUL. I almost considered reinitiating the now-defunct Health Camp, but unfortunately none of my would-have-been coworkers can make it to help me out, and really truely, I need a vacation. Time to dive into that novel again, practice my Guaraní, and fall asleep after lunch in my hammock.
Quote of the day: (Upon gazing down a tube of wrecked and mutilated Pringles) "What the (heck), do they air drop these things into Paraguay?!"
And now for your enjoyment, and because I have extra time, I will attempt to write part of this blog post in Guaraní.
Ama ha'e y. Ñande ha'e y, ma o meno. Ñande pire y'ÿre, ndojajajorái ýpe, ha bichokuéra ojame'ë flúpe, nahánari la y. Upéicharö mba'érepa la y ombopy'apy heta Paraguayokuérape? Oky ramö, ndoroku'éi nte! Ñemuhakuéra omboty, mbo'ekoty omboty, ndaipóri mba'e. Kokuehára nte osë ógagui.
Wow, astudia hína heta la guaraní, ma ihasy gueterei! Pero kuehe antendi kuri che peteïha conversación guaraníme! Woo!
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
hey love! Sorry to hear about the rain. Usually I love rain, too but that sounds like a bit too much. Hopefully by now it is not only not raining but also warmer? how cold is winter there? Did you end up doing the half-marathon at all? how is your knee?
ReplyDeleteThe camp sounded like a great idea. I can tell you put a lot of effort into it. Your host dad singing it after is hilarious. He was probably thinking when was the last time I brushed my teeth...hmm...did I get all the way in the back?
A few weeks ago there was the most beautiful sunset after it "rained" here, too. This storm passed right through my town and left an orange pink sunset on one side, dark rumbling clouds on another side, and the most beautiful, clear blue-the kind you see on postcards of some fancy resort's beach-on yet another side. It was hands down the most beautiful sunset I have ever seen!
I miss you, love. Carry on with your world saving. One child at a time.