Paraguayan Harmony

Yet another blog post long over due. But this one's a good one. Worth the wait. However, before we get into the heart of it, I would like to plug a project that's going on here in Paraguay through a group of very hard working and dedicated Peace Corps volunteers. It is not a project of mine, but that's not important. I thought that some of you would like to get an idea of what's going on down here and have a chance to help out, if you so choose. So check out this link and poster if you're interested:

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=526-218




And now back to the Leah Show...

One of the many things you can’t escape in campo Paraguay is the sound of life. The outside world and the inside world become one, separated only by thin wooden boards, constantly infiltrated by the noise of the present moment. With the electricity constantly going off and the existence of noisy technological gadgets at a minimum, the sounds around me keep me company. Sometimes they’re soothing and make me truly appreciate this strange land I’m temporarily inhabiting. Other times, however, they’re infuriating and make me long for a place with insulated houses and fenced off, designated animal areas. Either way, the sounds of Paraguay are a unique part of my experience here, deserving of at least a simple blog post. The following descriptions (unfortunately I don’t have sound bites to accompany them) are written as part of a David Letterman-inspired top 10 list of noises that keep me from sleeping when I want to. Because sometimes sleep is the only escape. But I think it is really just the top 10 sounds of Paraguay. Period.

Top 10 Sounds that Disturb My 10 Hours of Sleep a Day in Campo Paraguay

(in no particular order, except for #1 which deserves the honor of the worst sound imaginable)

#10. Roosters.

Remember how we were taught as kids that roosters crow when the sun comes up? Lies. All lies. Roosters crow whenever they feel like it. Maybe at 4 am. Maybe at 2 pm. Maybe at midnight. And when one rooster crows, all roosters who hear it answer with a crow, and then others answer them with a crow. Since everyone here has chickens and roosters, this progression of crowing rarely stops once it begins. Lying in my bed well before sunrise, wishing I was still asleep, I can follow the chain of rooster calls as it moves up and down the line of my community like a wave of nausea rolling in and out and back in again. At this point, I have thankfully developed quite the talent for falling back asleep after being annoyingly awakened. I’ll always have Paraguay to thank for my amazing ability to sleep anywhere at anytime.

#9. Snorting, Squealing Pigs

Pigs may be highly intelligent animals (so I hear… this has yet to be confirmed by my experience with them) but they are also extremely dirty and loud. To the point of being disgusting. If I or anyone else walks anywhere near their pens, they start snorting and jumping around like crazy, creating quite the racket all for the hope of more food which we do not have. These are not skinny little pigs, either. They have plenty to eat, especially when they’re allowed to just roam free like the dogs and chickens. They eat anything and everything and are very loud in the process of getting it all into their bellies as quickly as possible. I don’t observe them a whole lot because they disgust me so much, but I do know that they are noisy at all hours of the day and night. It doesn’t help that our pig pen is about 15 meters behind my house. Way too close.

#8. Full Uddered Cows

The cows usually aren’t so bad, but recently, after their recent birthing season, they cannot wait to get milked in the morning. The momma and baby cows are tied up to different stakes at night so those udders are nice and full when morning comes. And those babies are nice and hungry. Unfortunatley, the cows don’t start moo-ing about this when my morning starts, but instead at around 5 am. Or right now, at 9 pm, right behind my house, as I’m writing about them. The other thing about the cows is that their moo-ing often sounds like the noise elephants make. Where am I again?

#7. The Same Reggaeton/Polka/Kachaka Mix CD Blaring out of the Neighbors Crappy Speakers

I’ve written about this before in a previous blogspost, but it must be brought up again now that I’ve had more time to analyze the situation. In such a rural, tranquilo place, campo Paraguayans love to have their music blaring from the moment they wake up to…..sometimes it never goes off. And we’re not talking about quality songs, chosen to capture the mood of the moment. We’re talking about the one or two CDs most families own or the local radio station, which I think owns the same ones. It’s the same songs, over and over and over and over again. I frequently hear the popular Christmas songs all over the place...in September. To make matters worse, most families own little, crappy, all-in-one tape/CD/radio/speaker stereos that were not made to be turned up full blast. Seriously, I love music but not like this.

#6. De-mufflered Motos

No, this isn’t a sexual reference. I’m talking about motorcycles (‘motos’ here in P-guay) that are custom-made to sound as close as possible to a gigantic airplane. “Oh,” you’re probably thinking, “people do that here too.” Yes, they do, but I bet there they have more than one road to drive on. And it’s probably paved. In good ol’ 4 Linea of Libertad del Sur, we have one, yes one, rocky dirt road that spans the length of the community. And everyone lives about 20 m off of said road. So on Friday and Saturday nights, after they drink a few beers, what do all the young, sexually frustrated, Paraguayan males do? Drive up and down the road, of course, because then all us single ladies can admire their huge...motorcycle engines. If only I wasn’t trying to sleep!!!

#5. Thunder Storms

I have no complaints about the storms here, except that sometimes they scare me to death. My volunteer friend Amy claims her house was recently struck by lightening while she was inside cooking. I’ve also heard that P-guay has one of the highest incidences of lightening strikes in the world (?). And this intense lightening produces some extremely intense thunder. I’ve never heard thunder crack and rumble like it does here. One lightening strike can produce a deafening rolling thunder that goes on for a good 15 seconds. I tend to hide under my covers and hope for the best when they get really close, but the storms are usually way too intense for me to sleep through. But for you storm lovers out there, they are incredible. Especially sitting (or hiding) under a tin roof, listening to the full force of the pouring rain.

#4. Mita’ikuera

Mita’ikuera is Guarani for ‘little kids’. These guys are the light of my life here, but they know no boundaries when it comes to playing. Tati and Lupi (4 year olds) are my closest little buddies, living right next door and one house over respectively. We spend a lot of time playing together, dancing, hoola-hooping, Frisbee, etc. That’s right, I recently made a hoola hoop (which has become the hit of the neighborhood) and I taught Tati to throw the Frisbee I brought with me. The downside is that they have a knack for asking for these toys just as I am laying down for a nap. And they don’t bother with the clapping (see below) but instead just yell at me (in a cute 4 yr old way) through the walls. They also find other ways to amuse themselves, usually in my front patio area. A couple days ago, right at nap time, I heard them making lots of noise outside my door. I tried to ignore it, but after a while it was too much and I had to get up to see what was going on. Lo and behold, they were in the midst of building an elaborate fort out of all the bits and pieces of plastic and metal lying around. Instead of doing this at either of their houses, they of course had chosen the strategic position of my little shack. I guess I kind of take that as a compliment.

#3. Mangy Dogs

As many of you know, I am a dog lover in the states. As many of you may not know, I have become a dog despiser here in P-guay. Dogs are gross here. They’re dirty and mangy and full of fleas and very poorly trained. They also bark constantly, especially at night. Barking = good work for a guard dog, but constant barking = never knowing if they’re really barking at a danger or just another dog. Neighbor dogs love to bark at each other and chase each other of their respective properties. I’m assuming that’s the reason for most of the late night barking, but who knows. I just know that they drive me crazy and I wish they were scared of me so they would stay away from my house. But throwing rocks near them apparently isn’t nearly as scary as actually hitting them, which is how Paraguayans get the upper hand.

#2. Clap Clap Clap

No, not the STD, but the Paraguayan equivalent of the doorbell. Rojepopete (‘we clap our hands’) to let people know when we’re standing outside of their house and want to come in or just say hi, and in front of the almacens (mini grocery stores usually in the front rooms of people’s homes) when no one is at the window ready to take your order. It was a little weird for me to get used to at first, but now I fully embrace the custom and put my own little rhythm into my claps so they always know it’s me! The problem with the clapping is that when you have an almacen in the front of your home, as my host/neighbor family does, there is no break to the claps. Clappers don’t observe siesta time, bed time or have not yet woken up in the morning time. If they need something from the store (and yes, cell phone minutes count as a desperate need), they will clap at any time of day. If drinking is involved and they’re there to buy more drinks, the clapping may not stop for a good 15 minutes even though all windows and doors are closed, all lights are off and no one is acknowledging them. ‘Taking a hint’ is not a phrase that makes any sense here.

#1. Guinea Fowl aka Satan’s Little Helper

Oh, the guinea fowl. How I loathe thee. I had never heard the call of a guinea fowl before I came to P-guay and I hope to never hear it again after I leave. It is awful. And relentless. The funny thing is that my family has only 1 guinea fowl (thank god), while many other families have upwards of 15 to 20. I don’t know what I would do if we had more. I don’t even like to imagine it. I’ve tried to come up with an adequate description in words of their cry/call/scream for those of you unfamiliar with the sound, but I don’t think it even comes close to capturing the essence of it. The best I’ve got is a cross between nails on a chalkboard and ‘the most annoying sound in the world’ that Jim Carey makes during the movie Dumb and Dumber. But in an up and down, wavelike rhythm. Waves that never stop and feel like they’re prodding your eardrums with their colliding swells. Over the last year, motivated by both my hatred and admiration of such a horrible sound, I observed and practiced and can now imitate the guinea fowl with high precision and accuracy. It’s my Paraguayan party trick. Don’t worry, I’ll bring it home to share with all.