Mother´s Day

This Wednesday Paraguay will recognize Mother’s Day. Why this country doesn’t celebrate on Sunday when everyone has a day off like in the United States I cannot imagine, but the fact remains that moms all across the country here will be honored on Wednesday and not on Sunday. This didn’t stop the church, though, from celebrating Mother’s Day yesterday when every healthy and sane mother and mother-county remembered the holiday. Pastor Pedro preached a sermon on the importance and celebration of mothers, but on families more generally because so many youth from the neighborhood and school have mothers who have left the home or are away in other countries. Generally speaking, the Paraguayan family is a disaster these days with one or both parents deserting or working in other cities and the children left to fend for themselves. Thus, like some cruel politically-correct joke, the church and school both celebrate “family day” out of recognition that our families come in all sorts, shapes, and sizes because of human sin and relational brokenness.

The reality of their political correctness, though, hits close to home for many and for that reason their celebration of “family day” instead of Mother’s Day really is a mercy for the church and neighborhood rather than a concession to progressive culture. On both Saturday night and Sunday morning, the pastors brought to light that many Paraguayans, even some from the church, are left without any parents or relatives at all. For that reason, on both days they preached the necessity and importance of being a part of the Family of God, that kinfolk of faith united in one Father through Jesus Christ. .Thus, they said, when we become believers we have brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, and all manner of other relationships within the church. For a couple youth in the church who really have no one looking after them except the church, the message rang especially true. Deserted or abused by their parents, they know and depend full-well on the spiritual family of God for so much of their physical, emotional, spiritual, and even financial needs.

To celebrate Mother’s Day, my own Paraguayan spiritual son/brother Christian and I went to go visit his biological family on the other side of Asuncion. Needless to say, it wasn’t a good part of town. I was a very terrified white and overdressed American with bulging khaki pockets as we walked through the back alley ways to the place where his grandmother had raised a dozen children. When we finally arrived the house, I was pleasantly reminded me of the shack where the Beverly Hilbillilies lived before they found black gold, although this house was in the middle of a semi-urban poor quarter and not the beautiful hills of West Virginia. We carefully entered, and for the first time ever in my life I saw first-hand how a family could maltreat an unwanted child. Only his grandmother smiled to see him, his own mother only recognizing him with a nod. His aunts and uncles, some only a couple years older than him, didn’t even greet Christian. It was sad—really sad—to see how no one cared that he was there and, although I was his official caretaker and the first person ever from his church family to visit his former home, only an uncle who married into the family asked how Christian was doing in his studies and life in general (and that was only out of polite conversation with me). Although they invited us to eat well, it was an awkward afternoon for both Christian and I. After seeing Christian’s family, the irreligious way they live, and the scummy way they treated him, I can say with a thankful breath of relief that it’s a very good thing he left home.

After the visit, we continued our cheery trip in Christian’s old neighborhood with a tour of Ycua, the place where five years ago burned to the ground a mega grocery-store. .The tragedy of the story is that store management, when faced with the prospect of thieves stealing in the chaos of a fire, ordered guards to lock all the entryways and exits, prohibiting anyone from leaving and securing the death of several hundred trapped inside. Whole families perished in what at the time was internationally reported as the worst super-market disaster ever. Five years later, the story haunts all of Paraguay as a cautionary tale against the worst of human greed and selfishness in the face of danger and disaster.

Today, only the outer walls of the supermarket still stand. Beneath and along the side the building , though, are hundreds of hallowed memorials recognizing those who perished in the fire along with long histories hung up recounting the survivors’ search for justice in the aftermath of the catastrophe. There was a place underneath too, in what used to be the parking garage, that held articles showing the force of the fire along with personal items of those who lost their lives. It all was a very moving memorial, where the ghosts of those who mercilessly died in the flames still haunted every small space. We were able to enter the shell-of-a-building in the late afternoon, when the now-twisted iron supports that once held up the roof looked in the fading sunlight like tortured rusty skeletons of ancient sea-snakes. We passed through what used to be customer bathrooms, and I could still see and touch with my fingers the soot on the tile walls from smoke that killed hundreds of innocent people. Feeling like the place merited some sign of recognition on part and not knowing what else to do, I drew a cross in the soot and said a prayer.

And now, some photos

And now, to move on from a post that for many of you may have been very awkward (but for me was very cathartic), some photos!



http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2114388&l=9d496&id=1407506

Dear Mom,

I’d like to take the time to publicly send you all my love today and to wish you all my best this Mother’s Day. I’m pretty sure everyone who reads this or knows anything about our family at all knows that we’ve passed through an unimaginably rough year in our now-very-public private lives. Most all of our family’s dirty laundry has been hung out on the line for all the neighbors and all the family and all the church to see, and it isn’t pretty. What made the humiliating spectacle even worse, though, is that at times I was the one spreading the dirt. I cursed you to your face, I screamed obscenities at home, and I spoke terrible things behind your back. I said that our relationship would never be the same, and I even imagined it would have been better if you had died. I did my best to heap up even more abuses and shame upon what was already a very publicly shameful situation. When all the other hypocrites were throwing rocks at you, I myself picked up the biggest stones and hurled them in self-righteous anger.

Throughout all my rage and betrayal, though, you constantly stayed my mom. When I wished you to leave home and drop off the planet, you said you still loved me. When I pleaded to God and you for a different and normal family, you said you’d always be there for me no matter how unnormal either of us ever got. When I rebelled, you showed me patience; when I threw a tantrum at things I couldn’t control, you again proved yourself the parent. With the very love of God you said to me and us all, “Forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Through everything you were steadfastly my mom, steadfastly looked out for me, and steadfastly welcomed me back to be your son.

Please, mom, forgive me for the way I treated you. I love you, and I’m sorry to you and the world and to God for what happened. I miss you incredibly now that I’m a full hemisphere away, and I really dream about the day when I’ll see you again. I’ve cried many times thinking of you since I’ve been here, and I pray for you every day. Words can’t describe your faithful love and all the good service you’ve rendered to me. You’re my only mom: you always will be, too, no matter what, and your faithfulness to me this past year has proven that. For these reasons and so many more I publicly rise up and bless you today and give you thanks for all your love and forgiveness. I value our friendship more than you’ll ever know.

Sincerely,

Jason

Random Thoughts

Some random thoughts, not big enough to warrant a complete blog entry:

I was rudely woken up last night at hourly intervals by loud packs of barking dogs, and this morning when I left behind the protective innocence of my apartment I realized why: a bitch in heat was roaming through the neighborhood with a good half dozen hounds following her scent, and all the poor un-neutured dogs that were cruelly penned up inside fences just couldn’t bear the thought of being alone so they sang together in a great united chorus of sexual angst. I’ll never take the work of the SPCA and dog warden for granted again.

There’s nothing more beautiful or tasty than a freshly picked mandarin from the mandarin tree in your back yard. I ate two this morning after my morning run. I think I shall move to Florida some day.

I discovered recently there’s huge cheap avocadoes in Paraguay. Many people let the precious fruit fall to the ground to rot away without thinking about how special it is that they have avocadoes at all. Those who do eat avocadoes here eat them sweet, all mashed up with sugar. I’m convinced that if I continue much longer to take advantage of the bargain-priced oil-based fruits, I’m going to die by avocado.

For the first six months I was here, I heard huge flocks of what sounded to be seagulls flying overhead. How strange, I thought, that there should be seagulls in a completely landlocked, river-bound country. When I started to pay better attention, though, I realized that the flocks weren’t seagulls, but instead massive groups of very awkward parrots flalloping together in the wind. I’m pretty sure I heard one of them calling me a silly gringo, and I realized I was still in a very special tropical place.

Life is short, and so are Paraguayan funerals. The father and step-mother of my fellow English teacher at Adonai passed away in a terrible car accident this past week, and both were buried within about 24 hours of their respective deaths (while she died on-the-scene, he died the day after from wounds in the hospital). I was talking to another teacher—a firefighter/EMT who has visited the public morgue plenty of times—who told me they don’t use body-refrigerators here. The sad part of it all is that, because the funeral preparations and actual service went by so quickly, none of the teachers that I know of had the chance to go to the funeral or even offer their condolences. Oscar and Karen tried to go the morning of the internment, but found they were already an hour late. You might say a prayer for Prof. Monica and her family.

I saw a beautiful nun my age on the bus the other day. Although she was completely covered in a modest habit and big flowing dress, she wore very flattering sandal-like shoes. Appreciating her beauty and virginal innocence, I wondered if I had ever appreciated or even could appreciate the natural beauty of chastity and sanctity of a girl completely set apart for God without thinking sexual and lusty thoughts. I wasn’t lusting after her—after all, she was a nun-- but I wasn’t sure and I’m unsure now if I can unselfishly appreciate a girl’s natural beauty.

There are little red ants here about the size of a small matchtip that, like a match, pack quite a burn. There’s a pile of rocks in my backyard that sometimes I like to go digging into, and I always forget until it’s too late that this pile of rocks also has a pile of these pesky little ants. Before I know what’s happening, my bare hand or bare foot or perhaps both my bare hands and both my bare feet are covered in swarms of little stinging ants that, once they bite into you, can only be removed by squishing their tiny heads off. The poison in their peckers, though, leaves itchy pus-filled pocks all over, like the strange bastard children of a pimple who has had a continuing affair with a mosquito bite. Like the consequences of extra-marital affairs, too, the pocks last for way too long, refilling themselves as they do after being popped and itching to eternity.

Teacher and May Day

This past week has been one of celebration and holiday for Paraguayans and me. Yesterday we had the day off from school to celebrate Teacher’s Day, a national holiday break from school and scholarly endeavor to thank those special teachers in charge of our educational present and to call to memory and venerate those special teachers who have touched our already-formed past. Festivities started a day early in school on Tuesday with a special program presented by the children from preschool to high school. Some sang songs in English, others recited poetry in Guarani, but all had only nice things to say about their maestros. It was a beautiful program that once again brought to my very-recently very-discouraged mind the importance of my work here, the impact of teachers, and the grand significance of educational formation.

After the recital-style assembly and presentation for all the teachers, the students left for their individual classrooms to celebrate with their own teachers. The kids and their parents brought in every sort of treat and decoration just like when we had Halloween or Christmas parties at Seville Elementary School, with everything from frosted cakes to fried empanadas to giant bottles of soda to share on the important day. As an itinerant English teacher, I had the chance to visit every classroom that I wanted, dabbling in a piece of cake here and sipping on some soda there. By the end of the morning session, I was sick to my stomach full of so many cookies and sugar drinks and sandwichitos.

At the end of the day, though, my stomach wasn’t the only thing that was full. My bookbag, too, was packed to the brim with regalitos—little gifts—from all my students as a sign of their appreciation for who I am and what I do as a teacher. Among other things, I got a pair of black socks that say “America”, a little pink alarm clock, a purple marker, a nice Parker pen, a bookmark, a calculator, a thermos, and a guampa to drink maté. The day, a super one full of celebration and congratulatory hugs, ended with a beautiful dinner paid for by the school at a churrasqueria- a huge Paraguayan buffet where men with little bowties push around carts that serve the most beautiful and delicious meat in the whole world. Really, the meal was a dream-come-true with all-I-could-eat sausages and stuffed chickens and fancy noodles and fresh salads and ice cream. I took good advantage, and ended up contentedly rolling myself home with several more kilos on my person than before.

Today we’re left with just one more day to celebrate. In Paraguay, Cuba, and all the former Soviet States, May 1 means international workers’ day. Here, celebrating labor means another day off of work in the middle of the week to give credit to workers where their credit is due. Today is a rainy and miserable day outside, though, preventing the soccer tournament and clothes sale that had been planned at the church. And so, instead I sit at home writing and reflecting and sharing a bit about work and school and life in Paraguay. The work I’m doing here, although sometimes I feel like it doesn’t mean a darn thing, is important and that fact that I have work to do, and important character-forming work as teacher(for both the students and me), is a huge blessing for which I am incredibly thankful. God is so good to give me and the whole world useful, creative, and good things to do every day in our work; just as His own work in the whole world, too, always is and in all ways is useful, creative, and Good.

Time Flies

For those of you who with puppy dog eyes look several times each day at the calendar on your desk counting down the days, hours, and even minutes until I come home, have no fear: we’ve reached the half-way mark of my sojourn of service in Paraguay. Seven months have already quickly passed since I left, and Lord-willing seven more will pass before I return home to my own and really-beloved United States. Although it’s too early for me to get sentimental about leaving Paraguay, the day of my homecoming approacheth and the time of my teaching here flyeth by.

Thankfully and with many of God’s graces, so far everything has gone well for me. I haven’t missed anything of great import at home, but have gotten to learn a brand new culture and way of life far away from home. Sometimes I really dream about going home and giving huge, long hugs to my family and friends, but other times I realize that I’m living a dream here in Paraguay, too. Be that as it may, I’m confident that God is calling me back to the U.S. this upcoming December. Depending on whether I can work in Ohio or not, I may be there with my family or in DC with my university friends. Lord-willing I’ll return to university to study for a masters degree in some manner of theology in August or September 2009. After that, who knows? Marriage? A job? A vocation? I’ve got a lot to discern. Every day I’m learning that I’ve got to trust in God for everything I am and everything I have; the day-to-day and long-term plans are all in His hands.

The Political Process and Election Day

The Political Process:

Although the political process has recently culminated with the national elections, I’ve been witness to the political process since the first day I arrived. At that time seven months ago, already there was plenty of infighting among the parties themselves to establish their candidates through the primary elections. Political posters lined the walls of unkempt buildings and hastily but well-hand-painted murals allured voters to support those candidates who could print and glue up the most paper or empty the most gallons of paint in the race. This tendency continued throughout the generals elections: as old posters got wet or torn down, new ones were pasted up, and when the rugrats representing one party graffitied the mural of another, it was fixed again and painted over many times. For months the city was awash in a sea of red, blue, and green, painted or plastered tit-for-tat political advertising and bickering.

The general population, too, represented well this sea of opinion and political fighting. I think many Paraguayans like the elections because it means they’ll get a crummy new t-shirt or cardboard hat free of cost. Nearly every street vendor or walking homeless person, and in fact many street vendors who are probably walking homeless people, too, wore new bright white t-shirts that supported the major candidates. They weren’t nice well-knit t-shirts, by any means, but instead the single-stringed white variety a normal person would wear as an undershirt. Although they were poor quality, however, their message was loud and clear for one party or for another and those who wore them seemed content enough to have some new strings.

As an American witnessing new democracy in action, the funniest aspect of the political campaign was seeing the party cars that drove down side the small side streets and through the large avenues that blared party music. Each candidate had a prerecorded message championing their candidacy along with a bite-sized jingle. Lugo, for example, had a song called “Lugo Tiene Corazon” or “Lugo Has Heart” that I can sing for you when I get back. These travelling propagandizers blared their songs and made their political promises seemingly at all hours of the day, hoping to win the votes of la gente with the big-old speakers and unforgettable speals.

Election Day

It’s already been almost an entire week since election day, and the shock of the elections still hasn’t worn off. Before I go into results, though, I’ll describe the day itself. The elections were held last Sunday, April 19th, all across Paraguay in a sort of quasi-national holiday. The Paraguayan government prohibits the sale of alcohol on election day along with the meetings of any social or religious groups, so the mundanos, or those from the world, couldn’t drink on the day and los cristianos couldn’t go to church. Our own meeting at the Apostolic Christian Church was, along with others across the country, was cancelled so that people could claim no excuse not to vote. Nationwide the method apparently worked, because nearly two-thirds of eligible voters turned out in the election.

Election day itself was, thankfully, quiet and peaceful. Vans, buses, and other vehicles that the political parties sponsored slowly and methodically canvassed neighborhoods to carry their own party faithful to the voting booths. Some parties even reimbursed cross-country bus tickets so that those who had moved far away from their registered voting locale could return home to support their party in the election (think of the Republican Party buying me a plane ticket from DC so that I could go home to vote for them in Ohio! What an idea…) Needless to say, many people from church took advantage of the free trip to go home to San Pedro on the other side of the country and vote.

When the final results were tallied up, the former bishop of San Pedro, Fernando :Lugo, was declared the winner of the presidential election with around 42 percent of the vote. Thankfully, the elections were quick, clean, clear, and cut sharply. Lugo’s win is historic, ending the longest-running national political machine in world history; after 61 years in power, a former man of the cloth has dethroned the ruling and firmly-established Colorado party from executive power. This win represents real change for Paraguay, and the upcoming months will see an unprecedented transition of democratically-elected power in this developing nation. Although many disagree with Lugo as a bishop running for office or think of him as a seedy tool of the left, there’s no doubt that he will breath a breath fresh air into the Paragauyan government when he takes office in August. I had the chance to visit downtown last Monday, the day after the elections, and it seemed as if the entire city had a new spirit about it. The corruption of the Colorado had finally been purged, and the city felt like it was breathing new life for the first time in decades.

For an interesting discussion of Lugo’s now in-limbo position of authority as a Catholic bishop, check out this Catholic canon lawyer´s commentary and insight ­­­­. The steps that the Roman Catholic Church now takes to deal with Lugo’s situation will reveal much about the Church itself, and will no doubt have a huge impact on Paraguay, whose current president-elect is a former/still sort of bishop.

The Issues

The Issues:

Now that I’ve covered the three major candidates, I’ll move on to talk a bit about the main issues in Paraguayan politics. In the social realm, debates over abortion and gay rights are uncontroversial because of Paraguay’s conservative culture just like questions of environmental stewardship and foreign warmongering are dead on the spot because of Paraguay’s poverty. Even without these core issues that consume American politics, however, Paraguayans still find plenty to argue about and plenty of things over which to form many unique party platforms.

Security and Order
As I’ve already mentioned, the drastic changes in national and local security resulting from the power vacuum after the fall of the dictatorship have had a huge impact on Paraguay. For a nation accustomed over several decades to exacting law enforcement and firm authority, the current lack of security appears to be a blatant lack of government intervention and help. On a national scale, the problems are immense. In the north of the country, multi-millionaire thugs hire private armies to protect their drug-growing and drug-exporting estates in blatant defiance of the government’s drug laws. In the east of the country, a thriving black market of drugs and arms and every other international vice thrives because of government ineffectiveness and corruption. On the local level, too, it’s every man for himself in Paraguay. If you’re walking around at night, you can expect to get mugged. If you leave your house open, you can expect to get robbed. For that reason, no one is out on the streets after seven or eight at night and everyone keeps everything locked up all the time. Under the dictatorship, if your neighbor’s chicken laid an egg on your doorstep you returned the egg politely. Today, however, you can’t let your chickens loose without being afraid someone will steal them. People want their chickens to go free, though, and from the opinions I’ve gathered from many folks I’ve talked to, would pay the price of keeping quiet under another dictatorship to see it happen.

Itapu
Some thirty years ago under the order of the Stroessner dictatorship, Paraguay partnered with Brazil to build the Itapu Dam, until very recently the largest power-generating dam in the world. Because the project was funded by Brazil, Brazil called and continues to call all the shots in the management of the Paraguayan dam project. Paraguay, in turn, has continually gotten screwed by the deal; first because of al the Paraguayan land taken away by the flooding of the dam, and now by Brazil’s continued exploitation of the dam’s energy (all of Paraguay’s energy needs can be covered by only one and a half of the nearly dozen and a half power-producing turbines, so the rest of the energy goes at bare-minimum cost to Brazil).

Throughout the years since the completion of the dam, the Paraguayan government has come up with all sorts of failed plans to gain more control over the dam, making all sorts of unfulfilled half-promises along the way that have only managed to demonstrate more and more through the years the government’s complete ineffectiveness. What makes matters worse is that, while the dam could cover electricity nearly free of cost for all of Paraguay, the cost of electricity for normal Paraguayans is still very high. Thus, the ineffectiveness of the government in dealing with the Itapu project and the still-high cost of energy give many Paraguayans good reason to believe that the government is very corrupt with much of the money generated from the dam going into the private bank accounts of high-ranking officials. The project stinks with corruption, and the Paraguayan people are tiring of the decades-old smell.

Health Care
If I were Paraguayan, I certainly would never complain about the costs of health care in Paraguay. A visit to the doctor only costs about five dollars, and two cavities can be filled in by a dentist for about forty dollars. Worries about the rising costs of health care and sky-rocketing health insurance bills seem to me a world away in a place where monthly coverage costs about ten dollars. Still, though, I’m only an American who’s living in Paraguay; for the average Paraguayan health care is an important and costly necessity of life, sinking budgets and worrying families to no end. Thus, one of the political issues in Paraguay is health care. Paraguay’s next-door neighbor, Argentina, offers universal health care for all her citizens. I’m not sure how effective Argentina’s system is, but Paraguayans seem to idolize it as a utopian system where everyone’s health needs are taken care of by the government. This ideal, when coupled with the ineptitude of the Paraguayan government to provide the goods for really any one, makes health care an important and pertinent political issue.

Jobs and the Economy
Paraguay is a nation of immense possibility. The facts that the land is rich, the climate is useful for productivity, and the geographic location is next to Argentina and Brazil, the two largest consumer markets in South America, offer countless occasions for economic growth and achievement. One only needs to look at the model of success in Mennonite cooperatives and farms to realize to the immense economic possibilities in Paraguay. The reality, however, is that for many Paraguayans work is no sure thing. Living day to day means scraping by without any faithful work or means of providing for basic necessities. In our congregation of under one hundred members, for example, there are now at least a dozen able men (some with large families) who don’t have steady incomes. Even for those in good health and good mind, it is often difficult to find reliable work. Pay is low, the minimum wage laws are unenforced, and those that can find work are easily taken advantage of. The lack of jobs and stagnant Paraguayan economy is, to say the least, one of the greatest needs in this country and one of the political issues that touches many Paraguayan very closely.

Corruption
Corruption, finally and unequivocally, is the most serious issue facing the Paraguayan political system. The establishment has been established so long that its structures and systems have nearly rotted completely through, with nearly every Colorado statesman or stateswoman accused of everything from bribery to stealing government monies to drug trafficking. What makes things even worse is that the very system allows such crimes and abuses to go on abated, since it’s illegal in Paraguay to convict any member of the national Congress of a crime while in office. Thus, while the poorest of the poor go on struggling to make ends meet, the richest of the rich and those with connections in political power continue on without end stealing government money and taking part in underhanded government deals and even drug trafficking. For these reasons and so many more, the Paraguayan political system is in need of a lot of redemption.