Summer Living in Concepcion: Twice the Temperature, Half the Speed

Summer is now in full swing down here in the southern hemisphere; Things feel a bit like a Bikram Yoga class, except without that silly looking fat guy in front of you trying his best to do the “Backwards Gyrating Lizard at Sunset” move while wearing shorts that are just a little too revealing. The mere act of forming a sentence in your head generates enough extra body heat to soak whatever you are wearing in sweat. The heat of the afternoon turns my site into a bit of a ghost town. Siesta hour, which is already a bit of a misnomer during the rest of the year (as it runs more like two hours) extends to the majority of the afternoon in the summer. Most people here have motorcycles or mopeds, so they at least can get around without too much exertion. I, however, am stuck taking “Linea 11,” which is a reference to a non-existent bus line. The number 11 is used because it looks like two legs, so Line 11 is actually just a sarcastic way to say “walking.”

School is out and kids in my barrio pass their time shooting marbles, playing in the mud left from the frequent thunder storms, and noodling. If you’ve never “noodled,” you are likely a completely sane person who values your extremities. What is it? Well, you go to a river or other body of water, stick your hand in a hole under water that you can’t see inside, and snag whatever critter your hand can grab. I was invited once. No, I said, I think I’ll go play that knife game where you stab the table between your fingers at a quickening pace. At least that way, I can see what happened to my finger when I lose it.

I pass the hottest parts of the day by playing guitar, reading, and of course, drinking a lot of Terere. I try to jog everyday, but the heat makes it tough. Even Jerry, the family dog that normally follows me around the area, just looks at me out of the corner of his eye with a look that says “I’ll just see you when you get back. I’ve got some mud over here that needs some rolling around in.” Since there is no trash pickup here, people either bury or burn their trash. Breathing in the more-than-just-a-little-toxic fumes feels just that much worse when you have to breathe deeply while running.

Speaking of possible health risks, the water supply in the city has recently been struck by a bad case of “holy crap, what is that in my water?” It comes out brown at times, which is a sign that its time to go out to the campo and get water from your marginally-cleaner well. Think about that the next time you fill your Brita – At least the water comes out of the faucet without tadpoles in it.

I’ve been playing a lot of volleyball, as well as trying my hand (or more accurately, my foot) at volleyball and soccer’s freak offspring, known as “Piki Volley”, which involves kicking the ball over the volleyball net rather than using your hands. Spanish is definitely a better language than English to argue in, and I’ve gotten to practice my “angry Spanish” during our daily volleyball game. Okay, its only like 11% serious arguing, and the rest are comments made jokingly about your opponents’ eyesight. “Come on man, that ball I just spiked left a crater three meters deep, which is clearly located within your side. Don’t even try to tell me that it was out. Look, a gopher is checking out what just happened to his hallway! Let’s ask him what he thinks!” You know, stuff like that which you never learned in high school Spanish class with Mrs. Whatshername. All she ever taught you was “There are many apples in the supermarket.” As I have mentioned before, Guarani can also be used for some pretty filthy cursing.

With school out, I have thrown most of my attention to my English class. I was worried at first that not having textbooks would cause problems, but I’ve really enjoyed trying out my own lesson plans. I think learning basic English is actually easier than Spanish. Verb conjugations in the present are simpler and normally are only different in the third person singular (e.g. I walk, you walk, he walks, we walk, they walk) whereas every single verb in the present tense (all tenses, actually) of Spanish is different. English has no gender for nouns that you have to remember, and adjectives don’t have to change according to gender or plurality, (e.g. the red house and the red houses vs. the red building the red buildings, in Spanish, would be “la casa roja” and “las casas rojas” vs. “el edificio rojo” and “los edificios rojos”). Of course, English is extremely irregular in the past tense, and that is where people who learn the language run into problems. The entire language is pretty irregular, so memorization of specific statements and idioms is much more difficult in English. The class is progressing, and I think most of the students have strong motivation since there are a few businesses in the area that are trying to find English-speaking employees, (though I don’t know why – I mean, the only English speakers for about 200 miles an any direction of my site are PC volunteers and those crazy party kids known as Mormon missionaries).

In other news from site, the Paraguayan Peoples’ Army recently released the guy they kidnapped last year. That incident, you may remember, was responsible for freaking out Peace Corps and the US Embassy here, and ultimately caused them to move almost all other volunteers from this area in the country. He was released unharmed and now helicopters can be heard flying around the surrounding woods looking for the group. There’s no news yet about whether PC will start refilling all the open sites with volunteers in the future. The fact that he was unharmed when he got back is a good sign, but I think the crime rate up here is still worse than other regions. Our house was even the recent target of a heist that even Danny Ocean would scratch his head over. Some thieves somehow managed to get our patio furniture (that I couldn’t even move) past our Paraguayan security system, (a brick wall with shattered bottles glued to the top).

In other news, one of the stars of the Paraguayan National soccer team was shot in the head (and survived) in a bar in Mexico a few days ago. The earthquake in Haiti a few weeks ago is something that some people around here have a vague knowledge of, but after this guy was attacked, vigils sprung up around the country and full pages of newspapers covered every detail. My host family has been adorable while playing detective by watching the security tape footage, which the news has been showing on what seems like a continuous loop, then forming their own hypotheses (and conspiracy theories). Whenever I think I understand just how serious people are about soccer here, something like this happens and reminds me that I have no idea. There is no “People Magazine: Paraguay Edition” of course, but if there was, I’m pretty sure this month’s featured article would be dedicated the attack, (followed by “Twelve signs your rooster is cheating on your chickens” and “The hottest new Guampa-styles for summer!”).

Tagged as: Bikram, English Class, EPP, Guitar, Jerry, Linea 11, Piki Volley, Soccer, Summer, Terere, Yoga