Adjustments

Over 21 days in and the Paraguayan lifestyle is beginning to become habit!

I'm adjusting quite quickly to seeking shade underneath the mango tree at every chance I get (I know all the best and shadiest mango trees in my area), all activity and business pausing for afternoon siesta in the heat of the day, and clapping instead of knocking at entrances. I now know that rain stops everything, including work, school, and buses, whether or not the red dirt roads have turned to cloudy arroyos. I have learned that instant Nescafe requires several tablespoons of sugar and some soggy white crackers called "coquitos" floating in it to be delectable (I mean drinkable).

I must note that one of the most important cultural lessons I've learned is that giving the "okay" hand signal is equivalent to giving someone the finger in this region of the world and that it's best to stick with the the thumbs up to express that "it's all good." (Hand signals become extremely useful and frequent when your tongue is pulled in several directions by multiple lanuages.)

I am now keenly (and uncomfortably) aware of how privileged I am to have attended school beyond the 6th grade. The school system here limps along after decades of neglect and a desperate partial reform in the late '90s that included raising teaching salaries to above minimum wage and encouraging kids to attend middle school. High schools here are expensive, hard to come by, and are inaccessible in so many ways. I am partially consoled by the fact that I met one of the most curious, inquisitive, and absorbant mind I've ever encountered last weeked; he has a 3rd grade formal education and all the intellectual capabilities of an USA-made Ph.D.

I now think more than twice about the plastic I purchase. I know that whatever trash I create I will later inhale during the trash burn in my backyard every Saturday. There's no public waste management infrastructure outside of the major cities, and the trash that isn't easily thrown on the street is burned in yards. A bottle of Coca-cola is a health threat in countless ways!

I've gotten used to and even welcome the cold and very quick showers (you'd be proud of me, Grandma), long walks to get to anywhere, and saying "adios" instad of "hola" as the costomary greeting to passerbys. I am even, albeit reluctantly, becoming accustomed to viewing cats, rabbits, geese, dogs, and horses as domestic animals whose sole purposes are to deter thieves and flavor soups and salami.

The shock that remains most unnerving is the 7% of the Atlantic Forest that has suvived the slash-and-burn epidemic initiated here by Monsanto and Carghill and carried out by the marginalized indigenous and opportunistic immigrants. The speckles of Atlantic Forest that remain in Paraguay occur in patches throughout the eastern region and are tightly associated with the Guarani Agquifer, on of the largest subterranean water deposits in the world. The forest also boasts the most biodiversity per square-meter of anywhere on Earth. Only 8 protected areas preserve less that 2% of the forest's original extent, and I had the precious opportunity to visit one such place-the Parque Nacional San Rafael-last weekend. The (as much as possible) virgin forest is so thick and lush that it is virtually impassible without a machete and the most desperate of motivations, and the sky is blocked by layers of leaves, vines, and spider webs. So beautiful is this place that I am requesting my PC director to place me at a site near one of the Atlantic Forest reserves.

I am missing easy, comfortable, and openly loving interactions with family and friends back home. The smell and sounds of crisp fall air and crackling brown leaves pull at my heart as it gets hotter every day here. I've been sheltered from the reality of how hot it actually gets here by my inexperience with the Celsius scale. I made the mistake of doing the conversions yesterday and came up with a maximum temperature of 130F! The fan is the most-valued posession one can own!

I'm constantly sending and receiving instant love-mail, but snail mail takes about 3 weeks at its best. Please please write! I'll most definately respond with fervor.

Love, love, love.