I have been working

not all of the taxdollars are going to waste. So it turns out life is not all about stealing honey and watching chickens fight in the Dos. The last week I have been making a proposal to a program of USAID that could potentially provide my cooperative with the initial capital to buy and process 25,000 kilos of yerba from people other than members of the cooperative. It could result in the difference between us processing, and adding valu to, 40,000 kilos and 300,000, and a difference between maybe 10 million guaranies and over 100 million. It is so satisfying working with funny money exchange rates. But right now, I have pitched the idea to the number two in charge down here, and he is on board to support it, so if all goes according to plan we should be getting a check in two or three months for $4000, which would really open up the door for the coop to expand aggressively, both in terms of production next year by augmenting the barbacua we do have, and also into services for the socios and the community at large.
So unfortunately I did have to take 3 days away from eating melon and hanging out with socios to sit in front of a computer for a few days. I'll attach the proposal for anyone who might be interested. But in that time I also mowed the lawn in front of the coop (severly shocking myself in the process. Every part of the lawn mower that is metal is conductive and wants to zap. So to mow, you jam wires into an outlet after splicing them to the mower, and then through some socks and plastic bags over your hands and get after it. Although once, I got the shit zapped out of my arm when I thought it was unplugged and went to reattach the wires. Whoops. The paraguayans were amused by it though and told me 'animano', which means don't die). And with a mowed lawn, I went to ciudad del este to buy a soccer ball and now we usually have daily games for whoever wants to kick around. We also have a seed bed thats got eucalyptus sprouting, but we'll be using it with all sorts of native and exotic seeds to reforest the area a little. Other than that, there is just a lot of hanging out, but kind of with a purpose. Just because we're sitting around drinking cana with a'pepu (the lemon/orange that grows near my house) doesn't mean we can't be talking about his fish ponds, or at times, we're sitting around eating a watermelon talking about different protein levels in different grasses for the cows. My job is basically information collection, and then helping the people to design projects with that knowledge presented to them. Because they do, and I tell them this all the time, have the knowledge, I just take it and put it into a plan or a spreadsheet and we have a base to begin planning logistics.

My day to day life, is just so incredibly tranquilo with the heat. It is difficult though to get around and visit anyone, because anywhere I go they're yelling at me to stop and drink terere and the kids run after the bike yelling "henjy! henjy! because thats the best they can do for andrew. I get a lot of texts to go play volleyball as well, which is good, because i've built up a decent amount of sports capital now and they say "ojugakuaa" he knows how to play, and I can play with the big boys so to speak, with the risk of losing 5 thousand guaranies, per game! Its a rough life with my daily expenditure of around 7-8 thousand for my vegetables and rice or noodles, with occasional trips to santa rita to bring back avocado, pineapples, coconuts, and other things you just can't find in the Dos. The avocado led to one of my biggest accomplishments to date here. They usually eat the aguacate with milk and sugar, but I'm getting them used to guacamole. And coconuts too for that matter, which are my staple breakfast food. Get them all ready the night before so all i have to do is lift off the top and drink after my morning Mate (and then obviously smash with my hammer to get at the meat).

New Years was also an excellent experience. IT just a very festive time, and everywhere you go you hear pigs squealing their last squeals (=rico asado), fireworks going off, melon harvests coming in, people drinking clerico (juice of pineapple and melon with chunks of pineapple, melon, watermelon, banana, apple, pear, and watever else, and a bit of red wine and coca cola). It did rain and we lost power christmas day, but when it rains in paraguay its almost always a passing souterly storm adn the sunsets are incredible afterwards, so i always make a point of being somehwere che ikatu ahecha la kuarahy oike la yvy, I can watch the sun enter the land, as they say. After that I return and they're usually like where'd you go, and I say to watch the sun set, and they can't for the life of them figure out why someone would make an activity out of watching the sun go down. Usually afterwards, I cook myself some dinner, without recipes, proportions, or a plan and sometimes its awesome, and others, not so awesome. Although when I cook it is usually better than the bread rolls with old bay seasoning I have had to rely on before, and no longer can because the paraguayans tried the old bay and are obsessed with it (I'm writing McCormack a letter to try and get a few free cases sent down).

After dinner, usually make a visit to play chess, sit and have a little red wine and coke with ice, try and get the brazillians to help me with my portuguese, watch some soccer or a novella. And those times hanging out are just so priceless for me. I already think about how sad it will be to leave them, but try to limit that. Its just nice to chat with someone in their indiginous language about what you think is important in life, what I miss about the states, what their perception of the states is, whats makes a person happy. And that kind of brings me to somethings I have been meaning to mention about the Guarani. The word vy'a. when you say avy'a you're using a word that doesn't exist in spanish or english. You're saying what literally translates as I happy. In english you need the verb is, and in spanish estar, but in guarani the act of being happy is the verb, and I really do think that has had an affect on their general approach to life. The community I am in has lost a generation that has left their children to find work in spain and argentina and is generally very poor, and yet they are so kind, so giving, and the words tranquilopa, omarcha, jaryi, oikopora, ipora (and any of the dozens of guarani words that all mean sweet)are always leaving their mouths. Its an approach to life that is good.