Some of my high schoolers got me thinking about sense of place, a topic thoroughly discussed and worn out in college--and for good reason. Our sense of place plays a big role in defining who we are the respect we show to our temporary home---mama earth. Two seventeen-year-olds told me about their idea of planting trees all along the road that leads to the stream to protect the water, and plan it so that they would all produce flowers at the same time. Thus, creating two of my favorite things: beauty and sustainability. I repeat, these are seventeen-year-olds, not talking about how far away from home they want to go or how they can´t wait to get their parents out of their hair. They recognize this place as theirs, collectively, and they want to improve it.
How do we spread that sentiment around the world? Or, for a start, where would I plant my trees, so I could watch them flower? Someday, I say, I´ll have land that I will call my home. I had thought before that Paraguayans are mostly influenced by their families--many of which live in the same house together all their lives. American young people are so dependent upon their friends. During high school, college, and beyond, our friends become our chosen family. Though family is such a greater part of life here, peers play an important role. There are some exceptionally bright students in the senior class, and I know that it´s due to them that change will occur here.
On another note, I ate cow brain the other day. Cow head, apparently, is a much anticipated delicacy in these parts. When I was visiting a family, they showed me the cow head they had rubbed with garlic, salt, and other spices, waiting for the fire to be ready. Maybe I´ve been in Paraguay too long, but it actually looked good. They showed me the hole they had dug in the yard and built a fire. The cow head is then buried with the hot coals and covered with earth to cook for four hours. It sounded so intriguing, I agreed to come back that evening. When they lifted the steaming cow head out of the ground, I almost died laughing. ¨No tongue or brain,¨ I said. (I already tried pig tongue and didn´t like the texture), so they cut off a piece the cheek for me to try. When the cow head was set on the table, it was a mad free-for-all, with 20 hands grabbing, plucking, and stuffing into slurping mouths. It was more than an activity than a meal. I took one bite of the cheek and immediately grabbed a piece of mandioca to wash down the pungent flavor. After watching my companions thoroughly enjoy themselves, I eventually got up the nerve to stick a fork into the brain cavity and grab a gooey chunk. I was told to eat it with mandioca, so as not to get the shits. And it was not bad. All the spices had soaked in, and it didn't have a strong meaty flavor. I couldn't eat very much because of the odd texture, and because of my own brain that kept reminding me tht I was eating cow brain.
And my puppy is growing, though last week I noticed he was limping. Heś a rambunctious one, and probably got in trouble with a chicken, neighbor dog, or large foot. I didn't know what to do, not wanting to take him on a 2 1/2 hour bus ride to the vet, which Ive already done. So, I walked him up to the local health center, which all my neighbors thought was hilarious. That was not help, but I scrounged some materials together, as well as some neighbor hands, and constructed a splint, so his leg would grow straight. So, I had a splinted puppy. He kept it on for a few days, and when he finally ripped it off, he was healed!
As American as my dog may be raised, he speaks Guarani. I realized this when he was barking one night, and my Paraguayan friend said, ¨Anike. Eeesh!¨ and he stopped right away. Some of my favorite Paraguayan words are the sounds they use to shoo animals. So I´ve been working on my Guarani grunt, and it works for me part of the time.
I started teaching English in the school, and I would have started my cooking/nutrition class, but it´s been raining all week, so it was cancelled. I´m getting used to not doing anything when it rains, and I´m really starting to enjoy it. This drought we had didn´t give me enough time to read and play guitar. The negative of the rain is that I don´t have stripping or complete walls on my house, so the rain comes right in. The other day it rained the hardest that it´s ever rained (they say) in thirty years, or something like that. I literally had a stream in my house. And my fridge, backpack, and other items that I put agains the walls grew mold. Those are the days I bring my puppy inside, and stay in bed, drinking maté.
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