Mi querido Paraguay,

Se dice que las mejores cosas vienen en los paquetes más pequeños. Paraguay es así– una nación pequeña, con un corazón grande. Es un país con una cultura fuerte, coloreada en verde con los bosques que quedan; rosado, amarillo y blanco con las flores de los tajy; rojo con la yvy pytã; azul con los arroyos; y brillante con la gente abierta.

Paraguay es la madre de la yerba mate (Ilex paraguariensis), el creador del tereré y donde nació la Albirroja. Es una nación llena de trabajadores, soñadores, gente divertida y madres que devoran sus vidas por sus hijos. Paraguay es una nación bilingüe, o trilingüe si es que se consideran al fútbol como idioma. Es una nación con siete ecorregiones, 17 departamentos y siete millones de personas.

Es una nación con un historial complicado que siempre quedará presente en las venas del gobierno. Una nación que perdió  70% de su población en el año 1870, pero además aguantó, algo que los paraguayos saben hacer. Una nación que fue gobernada por Alfredo Stroessner, el dictador más longevo de América, quien se mantuvo en el poder hasta el año 1989. Su historia impactó y sigue impactando la vida de los paraguayos hoy en día.

Yo tuve la oportunidad de vivir allá, en el corazón de Sudamérica, por 15 meses como voluntaria del Cuerpo de Paz. No te voy a decir que pasé cada momento sonriendo, pero sí te puedo decir que estoy muy agradecida por cada momento que pasé allá. Siento que tuve la suerte de compartir con mujeres fuertes y de aprender al lado de mis alumnos. Fueron ellos, mis alumnos, quienes sinceramente cambiaron mi vida.

A veces, como adultos, nos perdemos en cosas que no importan: como las arrugas en la ropa, el color de nuestros labios, las cosas materiales, la plata, el chisme, las limpiezas, el trabajo y el juicio. A veces nos olvidamos del milagro que es vivir. La suerte que tenemos de respirar. Que millones de nuestras células tienen que bailar juntas en la combinación perfecta para tomar una respiración.Olvidamos nuestra libertad. Olvidamos reír. Olvidamos que el tiempo que tenemos en la tierra es corto. Eso fue lo que aprendí de mis alumnos en Paraguay y sigo aprendiendo cada día.

A mis alumnos no les importaba que mi ropa era un poco diferente o que mi acento era un poco extraño. En vez de cerrar sus mentes, nos reíamos juntos cuando me equivocaba. Me amaron con todas mis imperfecciones, y yo a ellos. Fueron los abrazos de los niños los que me hicieron seguir trabajando cada día.

A veces fue difícil. Había 500 pares de ojos mirándome. 500 pares de ojos mirando todas mis diferencias y 500 opiniones sobre mí. Pero los abrazos de los niños me hacían sentir aceptada. Son sus abrazos los que extraño más que todo hoy, y los que extrañaré cada día.

A mis alumnos quiero decirles: gracias, y nunca cambien.

No sabemos el día de mañana. Tenemos que abrazar fuerte a nuestros padres y decir a nuestros abuelos que los amamos. Cuando nos vamos, son las memorias las que llevamos, entonces hagan memorias que quieran contar. Sigan jugando y corriendo en la lluvia y en el sol igual. No tengan vergüenza de cantar y bailar. Bailen y canten por los que ya no pueden. Estudien, aprendan y manténganse curiosos. Pregunten sobre los sistemas y las costumbres que no se sienten justas. Si hay algo en sus vidas que no les gusta, cámbialo.Son el futuro de sus familias, son el futuro de Paraguay y son el futuro de nuestro mundo.

Si no les gusta la violencia, practiquen la paz.
Si no les gusta el chisme, practiquen los cumplidos.
Si no les gusta la injusticia, actúen con justicia.

No pueden cambiar a todo el mundo, pero sí pueden cambiar sus acciones. Recuerden que ustedes son los escritores de sus historias. Entonces les pregunto:

“¿Cuál es el cuento que quieren contar?”

A todos los que fueron parte de mi vida durante estos 15 meses quienes abrieron sus puertas para la americanita, gracias. Paraguay siempre estará conmigo en mi forma de ser.Siempre voy a recordar de ustedes cuando esté comiendo naranjas, recordando los días en la escuela cuando trataba de pelarlas y no podía. Un día, con mucha práctica, aprenderé a pelar naranjas y mandi'o como ustedes.Ojalá que un día, también pueda compartir la sopa paraguaya, el mbejú y la ryguasu chyryry con una familia mia. Gracias Paraguay por los recuerdos, las lecciones y por todos los detalles que dejaron en mi corazón.

Al Director Cesar Cespedes, gracias por dejarme un espacio en la escuela y en el jardín para nuestra huerta orgánica. Ojalá que siga creciendo y que este año los alumnos tengan más verduras para llevar a sus casas y compartir con sus familias. Gracias también por darme la confianza de usar la escuela fuera de hora para mis clases de inglés.

A todos los profes, gracias por la ayuda con la huerta, por dejarme compartir con sus alumnos y por la oportunidad de compartir y aprender de ustedes.

Al director Edgar Benitez, gracias por la confianza de enseñarle a sus alumnos el idioma inglés y por darme la oportunidad de hacer charlas sobre el desarrollo personal. Gracias por considerarme como una compañera más, por siempre invitarme a almorzar con ustedes y por darme la confianza de compartir también con su familia.

Gracias a las cocineras, mis queridas amigas, quienes ponen un plato lleno de comida sana en frente de todos los chicos cada día; y a las guapas limpiadoras, quienes dejan la escuela limpia, segura y saludable para que los chicos puedan aprender bien.

A mis amigas y a todas las familias con quienes compartí, gracias por abrir sus mentes y tomar el tiempo de conocer a Eva de verdad, quien es más de solo la Americanita.

A mi mamá, la Profesora Blanca Leguizamón, no tengo palabras para expresar la gratitud que tengo por vos. No es fácil permitir que una extranjera duerma en tu casa, además en la cama de una hija tuya. Cuando te conocí sí era extranjera, pero ahora soy como una hija más, y vos como una mamá más. Una que me da consejos, que a veces no escucho, y que abrió su corazón; quein bailó conmigo en los momentos felices y me apoyó en los momentos difíciles.Me amaste aunque siempre dejaba mis championes sucios en frente de la puerta. Te llamaré por siempre che sy porã.Gracias por una casa, una cama, la comida, por el apoyo y por compartir conmigo a tu familia, quienes se convirtieron en mi familia para siempre.Seguí siendo la mujer fuerte, inteligente y única que sos. Y te espero cuando Dios te permita.

Una puerta se está cerrando para que otra se pueda abrir. Suerte con todo lo que viene en sus vidas. Aunque no estoy físicamente, siempre estaré en los recuerdos que compartimos. Además, hoy en día con la tecnología siempre tenemos la oportunidad de hablar.

Yo continuaré en mi destino, compartiendo conocimiento y encontrando aventuras siempre llevando mis recuerdos de Paraguay.

Rohayhu che Paraguay opa arã. Jajotopata

My Beloved Paraguay,

My beloved Paraguay. It is said that the best things come in the smallest packages. Paraguay is like that—a small nation with a big heart. It is a country with a strong culture, colored in green by the small forests that remain; pink, yellow, and white by the flowers of the tajy trees; red by the yvy pytã; blue by the streams; and shining with the openness of its people.

Paraguay is the mother of yerba mate (Ilex paraguariensis), the creator of tereré, and the place where Albirroja was born. It is a nation full of hardworking people, dreamers, joyful souls, and mothers who devote their lives to their children. Paraguay is a bilingual nation, or even trilingual if we consider football a language. It is a nation with seven ecoregions, 17 departments, and seven million people.

It is a nation with a complicated history that will always remain present in the veins of its government. A nation that lost 70% of its population in the year 1870, yet endured—something Paraguayans know how to do. A nation that was governed by Alfredo Stroessner, the longest-serving dictator in the Americas, who remained in power until 1989. Its history impacted—and continues to impact—the lives of Paraguayans today.

I had the opportunity to live there, in the heart of South America, for 15 months as a Peace Corps volunteer. I won’t say that I spent every moment smiling, but I can say that I am deeply grateful for every moment I spent there. I feel lucky to have shared time with strong women and to have learned alongside my students. It was them—my students—who truly changed my life.

Sometimes, as adults, we get lost in things that do not matter: wrinkles in our clothes, the color of our lips, material things, money, gossip, cleaning, work, and judgment. Sometimes we forget the miracle that it is to live—the privilege we have to breathe. That millions of our cells must dance together in the perfect combination just to take one breath.We forget our freedom. We forget to laugh. We forget that the time we have on this earth is short.That is what I learned from my students in Paraguay, and what I continue learning every day.

My students didn’t care that my clothes were a little different or that my accent was a little strange. Instead of closing their minds, we laughed together when I made mistakes. They loved me with all my imperfections, and I loved them.

It was the children’s hugs that made me keep working every day.

Sometimes it was difficult. There were 500 pairs of eyes watching me—500 pairs of eyes seeing all my differences and 500 opinions about me. But the children’s hugs made me feel accepted. Their hugs are what I miss most today, and what I will miss every day.

To my students, I want to say: thank you, and never change.

We do not know what tomorrow will bring. We must hug our parents tightly and tell our grandparents that we love them. When we leave this earth, it is our memories that we carry with us—so make memories worth telling.Keep playing and running in the rain and in the sun alike. Do not be ashamed to sing and dance. Sing and dance for those who no longer can.Study, learn, and stay curious. Ask questions about systems and customs that do not feel fair. If there is something in your life that you do not like, change it.You are the future of your families. You are the future of Paraguay. You are the future of our world.

If you do not like violence, practice peace.
If you do not like gossip, practice compliments.
If you do not like injustice, act with justice.

You cannot change the whole world, but you can change your actions.Remember that you are the authors of your own stories. So I ask you:

“What story do you want to tell?”

Life will never be easy, but that is what living means. If everything were easy, we would never learn the importance of discipline and dedication. If we did not have to work, we would not have food, homes, or clothes.It is obstacles that guide us in the right direction.

To everyone who was part of my life during these 15 months, who opened their doors to the “americanita,” thank you. Paraguay will always remain with me in the way I am.I will always remember you when I am eating oranges, remembering the days at school when I tried to peel them and could not. One day, with enough practice, I will learn to peel oranges.

I hope that in the future I will also be able to share sopa paraguaya, mbejú, and ryguasu chyryry with a family of my own.

Thank you, Paraguay, for the memories, the lessons, and the numerous fingerprints that were left on my heart.

Additionally, Thank you to Director Cesar Cespedes for giving me space at the school and in the garden for our organic garden. I hope it continues to grow and that this year the students will have more vegetables to take home and share with their families. Thank you also for trusting me with the use of the school after hours for my English classes.

To the teachers, thank you for helping with the garden, for allowing me to share time with your students, and for the opportunity to share and learn from you.

To Director Edgar Benitez, thank you for trusting me to teach your students English and for giving me the opportunity to give talks about personal development. Thank you for considering me one of your colleagues, for always inviting me to lunch with you, and for trusting me enough to share time with your family as well.

Thank you, to the cooks, my dear friends, who place a healthy plate of food in front of every child each day; and to the wonderful cleaners, who keep the school clean, safe, and healthy so that the children can learn well.

To my friends and to all the families I shared time with, thank you for opening your minds and taking the time to know Eva for who she truly is—beyond the “Americanita.”

Finally, to my mom, Professor Blanca Leguizamón, I do not have words to express the gratitude I feel for you. It is not easy to allow a foreigner to sleep in your home, especially in the bed of one of your daughters. When I first met you, I truly was a stranger—but now I am like another daughter, and you are like another mother.A mother who gives me advice, which I sometimes do not listen to. A mother who opened her heart, who danced with me in the happy moments, and who supported me in the difficult ones.You loved me even though I always left my dirty sneakers by the door. I will always call you che sy porã.Thank you for a house, a bed, the food, the support, and for sharing your family with me—who became my family forever.Continue being the strong, intelligent, and unique woman that you are. And I will wait for you to visit when time allows.

One door is closing so that another can open. Good luck with everything that comes in your lives. Even though I am not physically there, I will always remain in the memories we shared. And today, with technology, we always have the opportunity to speak.I will continue on my path, sharing knowledge and finding adventures, always carrying my memories of Paraguay with me.

Rohayhu che Paraguay opa arã. Jajotopata.
(I love you forever, my Paraguay. We will see each other again.)

In order to live in the present, acceptance is key. I must learn to accept my realities without running from the past or chasing the future. For within the blink of an eye this second will be over and will only exist as a brief moment of the past. Many of our seconds we will fail to remember so it is important to be present while they last. To hold them with grace. To cry tears of pride, and share words of love. I must remove myself from comparison and return to my core belief that what is meant for us will come to us. I can never please everyone and if I keep attempting to do so I will be sucked dry of joy.

Going forward, and moving into the new year I take with me two words: Acceptance and gratitude. May I remind myself of the many things I am grateful for in times of crisis. May I retrain my brain to seek out the positives rather than submissively falling into the trap of negativity. For in an imperfect world imperfections are easy to find. It is funny how whenever something “bad” occurs we seem to forget about the trillions of happy moments we have shared. How our brains are programmed to hold onto the hard moments as if they are physically tougher allowing for a greater coefficient of friction and easier grip. What if each complaint was replaced with a token of gratitude? A reminder of how rare and beautiful our lives are. Imagine that. A world in which complaints were replaced by appreciation. Now, this too would be   imperfect as I  believe in the necessity to express raw emotions without watering them down for the ears of others. Rather to say, if we could acknowledge gratitude in the same way we acknowledge grief, happiness would be radiant.

Now, on the importance of acceptance in this coming year. A powerful, multilayered word. Acceptance is the first step to recovery, healing, change, and improvement. We must face our realities head on and embrace them without chewing them flavorless. Acceptance of the self, situation, limitations, and perceptions. While I think that acceptance of my situation might objectively seem the most relevant, the acceptance I must find is for myself. I must learn to accept myself in all my forms. The form that feels a bit curvier after three months of eating meat twice a day and the form that feels strong after a long run. The form of myself when I am tired and struggle to find words to eloquently express myself, and the form that doesn’t know where to stand in a crowded room.

Self-acceptance  is different from self-love. It is a mindful embrace distinct from emotion. It is a goal that, for me, seems more achievable. Now, in complete honesty, when I think of self love and acceptance the first thing that comes to mind is appearance and body-image. I must admit, I place a lot of my self worth in my appearance – a product of the society I was raised in. This is a controversial and triggering topic, but one that I feel is important to open conversation about.

While I respect the decision to evade attention from physical appearance, in my opinion acknowledgement of appearance is an animalistic tendency that is a result of cognition. For example, in the wild animals use  vibrant colors and camoflouge to survive and reproduce.  Yes, our bodies are not the root of our existence but they are portals of connection. They are the mechanical structures that allow for our existence in a physical world. I also believe that complete divergence of conversation from appearance can create harm.

Something I have learned in Paraguay is our intent desire to deviate conversations regarding appearance stems from a culture that in practice does the exact opposite. In the US body image may be a nuanced topic but it is also prevalent in everything we consume. It feels as if our  effort to avoid conversation about appearance is an effort to run from acceptance. Similarly to those who claim to be “color blind”  as a failed effort to prove they’re acceptance of humans despite race or ethnicity. The term
"color blind", excuses us from the need to acknowledge the atrocities that were, and still are, committed on the basis of race. It dismisses the concept of systematic racism that will forever be braided into humanity. Now people can’t see bodies either? What if people want their bodies to be acknowledged? What if in order for the tension or shame to be released, my body must be acknowledged. What if I wish for my fat rolls and scars to be kissed? What if I didn’t see fat as bad but just acknowledged its presence.

Our bodies are made of organs that allow us to move, breath, digest, eat, and love. Here in Paraguay talk of bodies is constant. At first, it was a bit odd and hard to hear coming from the perspective of a culture in which commentary on other peoples bodies is prohibited. However, I have come to accept and actually find some beauty in the way that paraguayans are able to openly comment on someone's body without judgement (well sometimes). When they say you look a little fatter, it is no insult but rather an observation that they are saying out loud. And here it isn’t bad to be a little fatter. It could even be taken as a compliment.

What if it is our framing of body image that needs to be converted rather than the simplicity of acknowledgement. Our need to disevade attention from image comes from a culture that praises a single appearance, one in which only thin women can be beautiful. And this is not to say that we should tell our friends that they look a little fatter, just an observation that when we aren’t intentionally avoiding acknowledgement of appearance, it is less stigmatized. That turned into a much longer rant than I had intended but needless to say. Acceptance is key. Not only for the way we appear but for the way we carry ourselves, the way our brains are programmed, and the way we speak. Acceptance is what I seek to achieve. I hope to accept myself for what I am.

As I sit down to finally transcribe this from my journal after weeks, I am reminded of the past week I had. One in which was difficult due to a challenging relationship with my host mom, the discovery of a parasite in my foot, being dragged to a million and one different places while sick, struggling with the concept of a changing body, witnessing and attempting to break up an almost fatal dog attack, and burying a rotting compost pile. It sucked I must admit. But it was all part of the experience. I had to accept. Finding acceptance  is an avenue to emotional healing and freedom.  And with that I  leave you  a final reminder, something that I too must remember, hard days can end with a smile when we choose acceptance.

Ava-Rae

To fall bravely is to free fall without knowing what lies beneath you— swallowing your pride, forgetting what you know, and releasing control. It is to step into a room of strangers, to succumb to the entropy of the universe, and to accept what we are given. It involves opening our hearts, whether for love, the generation of new ideas, or for acceptance. Acceptance of our emotions, acceptance of ourselves, and for all the imperfections that bind humanity.

Our lives provide many opportunities to fall. We fall into new careers, new relationships, and new places. We may fall down to the ground, but we may also fall into the gratifying embrace of mother earth's arms— never knowing the outcome unless we take a faithful leap.

A step further is to free fall blindfolded, completely releasing the control of one's future. Analogous to skydiving blindfolded, this elicits feelings of fear, confusion, and a sweet taste of adrenaline. So much is unknown. To free fall blindfolded, we must learn to completely separate our desires from our destinies and fully embody the belief that what is meant to us will surely come. In this there are lessons— the lesson that what we desire is not always what we need.

Beginning my 8th week of Peace Corps training in Paraguay, this theme feels ever  important. In two weeks I will leave for my site, my home for the next two years. A home that was selected for me after two 10 minute interviews conducted in Spanish by the Peace Corps Placement team. A Peace Corps service, in my opinion, is the epitome of free falling. It is a conscious decision to release control of your life for two years, and tests the confidence you have in others to choose your destiny. It is hard as hell— especially for someone who loves control— to allow others to choose what they feel is best for me. It is hard to live in someone else’s home, abiding by their rules, expectations, and social norms. Eating the food they prepare, and honestly, letting go of previous freedoms. It is hard to live everyday life in a language that isn’t native to your tongue. It is exhausting, grueling, and sometimes annoying. But It is also beautiful— to test our limits, to observe the speed at which we adapt to different environments, and to first hand see how the human desire for connection can surpass language and cultural barriers. How there are some things that are shared among humanity: the need for a hug when one is crying and the innocent joy of laughter.

It is an experience where we must shed our complicated layers and show up in our simplest, most human forms. Last week we were given our sites and had the opportunity to spend six days in our future homes with our future host families. My site is “2° Línea Arroyito, Chacore, Repatriación, Caaguazú,” a small community of 500 people, surrounded by fields of soy and eucalyptus plantations, dirt roads, rolling hills, very small creeks— a place that has experienced immense deforestation in the past decade.

During my site visit, I found myself looking for imperfections. I  think it is only natural to question a place that will be your home. I was shocked at how nice the home I was placed in was, and was honestly filled with guilt. I pictured myself living in a humble, rustic home. I felt bad for the other volunteers whose homes did not have the same amenities as mine. I questioned why this was my placement. Was it because the Peace Corps did not believe in my ability to deal with challenges? Had they underestimated me? Was I the weak link who got the easy site?

I also felt confused and guilty because part of the process is to adapt to the lifestyle of an average Paraguayan. In a country that suffers from an immense wealth gap, where about 2% of the population owns more than 80% of the land, it was hard not to question why I was placed where I was. I began questioning the Peace Corps framework. As an international development organization, I thought it would be more impactful to place volunteers in sites that needed more support— in homes with families who could benefit from the allowance that is provided for hosting a volunteer.

I was worried that only in the absence of hot water and AC could I really grow. I feared that I wouldn’t be able to prove my abilities here and had to remind myself that I don't have to struggle in order to prove anything. There is no one I need to prove myself to. My purpose is to build connections, learn, and assist in the development of environmental and agricultural knowledge and education— all of which can still be done with running water.

I must also credit the Peace Corps for their approach, only working in communities who have explicitly requested our support. By no means is my community perfect. Advanced plumbing, electricity, and wifi are still all luxuries within the neighborhood. Local farmers struggle to make a living as the majority of the land is used for industrial soy production, leaving locals with little space, less fertile soil, and a smaller market to sell to. The community also faces health challenges, including hypertension, diabetes, and insect borne diseases (last season, almost 95% of the community got Chikungunya). Further, as I mentioned, the land has been greatly defrosted in recent years, leading to considerable impacts on environmental and human health. There are still many opportunities to foster collaborative growth with the communities.

It’s normal to criticize the place you are meant to spend the next two years of your life.

Visiting for six days, knowing that those six days will become two years is daunting. Every flaw becomes highlighted, fueling fear. I’ll spare you the details of the emotional rollercoaster I experienced each day of my visit. I will say, however, that after returning and processing my six days, I am beyond happy with my site. While my house itself is not the rustic, barn-style, campo home that I had envisioned, and my neighborhood is slightly more residential than I’d expected, I am surrounded by farmland, cows and tranquility. My runs on the back country roads are enough to make me happy. I feel safe and can run for miles on dirt roads flanked by farms. I have already gotten to know a good chunk of the 500 residents of Arroyito. I am only 5 kilometers from the next volunteer. The community has embraced me with open arms and kindness. All of my counterparts are open to my ideas and excited to begin working together.

After reflecting, I am excited to return to Arroyito– to run along the dirt roads, milk cows, learn, communicate, embrace, and build connections. I am excited by the potential start of a girls’ club and offer English lessons during the summer. I am even more excited for the bigger projects that lie in my future such as building a community garden, collaborating with farmers, and co-teaching in the schools. I am excited to free-fall and unstitch the seams that enclose my heartspace. In doing so I vow to fall bravely.

Seven days ago, I walked through the doors of the Peace Corps (PC) Paraguay training center, unsure of what I was getting into but curious about the people I would soon call family and the peers who would become my web of support. After spending two days at a hotel in Philadelphia for a pre-departure training, known in the PC world as staging, I spread my wings, taking flight into the next adventure.

Upon arriving in Paraguay, we had another four days of a "retreat period" where we spent time going over introductions and adjusting to the new environment. On day four, we packed our bags, loaded the vans, and left the confines of the hotel to see the streets of Paraguay for the first time. As we drove, my eyes widened with curiosity, excitement, and the shock of seeing my new home country. After a short drive, we arrived at the training center, a large campus within the city of Capiatá. We toured the center and were briefly introduced to the training staff before loading into separate vans and heading towards each of our “islas”—the communities where small groups of 5–6 trainees live during the first 2.5 months of training.

My group of six (Sophie, Emma, Sarah, Rhys, Ando, and I) headed toward a small community within the municipality of Itá called Maria Auxiliadora. We approached a home where all our families were patiently waiting for the arrival of their new host children. Both the volunteers and our soon-to-be families were eager to meet the faces behind the small pieces of white paper containing only our names, ages, and job titles. As I walked up, I locked eyes with a woman and a teenage girl, both of whom had large, endearing smiles across their faces. I have yet to tell them, but at that moment, I secretly crossed my fingers, hoping they would become my Paraguayan mom and sister. Sure enough, when the last name on my paper was called, the mom (Doña Elva) and daughter (Irene) walked forward. With a sigh of relief and genuine excitement, I approached them and was embraced in their arms, flooded with care. In that moment, I knew I was home—a feeling of inexplicable familiarity within the arms of strangers.

We walked a few minutes to the house where I was greeted by my new four dogs, my second host sister, and their bird. I was shown to my lovely room, which has its own entrance and even my own bathroom (que chuchi, a Guaraní word for fancy). I’m lucky enough to have both a fan and an AC unit, which I know I’ll be eternally grateful for during the extreme summer heat (most days will exceed 100°F). I was also shown the rest of the house, which contains a living room, two bedrooms, and a kitchen. In the back, my family has about 10 roosters, two clotheslines, an inground pool they fill during the summer, a grill, and a compost pile. In front, there’s a beautiful outdoor area where my mom grows flowers and grapes, providing a great shady spot to drink tereré (cold maté). On the side of the house are various fruit trees that offer delicious, refreshing snacks during the heat of the day.

After our house tour, we sat down to eat lunch. To my pleasant surprise, there was a salad on the table. After being prepped for an extremely carb- and meat-intensive cuisine, I was relieved to see vegetables and chicken. We ate salad, chicken milanesa, and mandioca (also known as yucca, a staple of Paraguayan meals). After lunch, I drank tereré on the patio with my mom and host sisters for a bit before retreating to my room to unpack and get organized while they took their siestas.

Later, I met my dad, Don Juan Alfred, after he returned from work in Asunción (the capital city). I was pleasantly surprised when, within minutes, our conversation turned to the flaws of capitalism and the influence the U.S. has had on Paraguay’s political history. Paraguay was under the power of dictator Stroessner until 1989, and the U.S. government supported him until the late '70s, despite his disregard for humanity. I plan to research this later and write a more detailed report for those who, like me, find it fascinating.

As for my first week in Paraguay, I won’t go into each day in detail, as every day has brought a wave of new emotions, new Spanish and Guaraní vocabulary, and a newfound sense of confidence. With each day, I become more comfortable with my family’s routine, improve my Spanish, and feel a deeper connection to the people and land of this beautiful little country. Each day, I learn something new—the name of a community member, how to properly clean my clothes, that the water does get hot if you flip a switch, a new route to the bus stop, or a new path to run on. My knowledge expands, and my beliefs are challenged daily.

I’ve developed a healthy routine, sleeping eight hours each night. I’ve tried different meats (many of which I don’t care to try again), adjusted to drinking cow’s milk in my coffee, eating bread daily, and enjoying mayonnaise in my salad (which isn’t as bad as it sounds). I’ve disconnected from technology, only bringing my work phone (the Samsung Peace Corps gave me) when I leave the house. My dreams have been vivid, digestion has been smooth, and honestly, I feel great.

During the week, I’m at the training center from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. I leave the house between 6:30 and 7 a.m., depending on whether Peace Corps provides transportation or we take local buses (it alternates daily). I typically exercise after getting home from the training center at 6 p.m. or bring running clothes along so I can run after training in Capiatá. Afterward, I eat dinner, chat with my family, and head to bed around 9 p.m.

Training has been fine so far—lots of learning about what we’re going to learn and repeated information from the modules we completed before arriving. There are also many rules, given the connection to the U.S. government. However, the past couple of days have been more engaging as we’ve started our language and technical classes. I tested out of Spanish, so I’m starting directly with Guaraní, the second official language of Paraguay and the only officially recognized indigenous language in South America. While it’s extremely challenging because it’s vastly different from other languages and based on natural sounds rather than Latin, it’s an important part of Paraguayan culture and a good way to show respect for the local population.

Our first technical training was also awesome. We planted our own gardens, building garden beds using a double-dig procedure and mixing compost and manure into the soil to make it more nutrient-rich for crops. After leaving the training center yesterday, I led a flow for a few of the aspiring volunteers in my community, ate dinner with my family, and then went to another volunteer’s house to have a couple of beers and celebrate the end of our first week in training.

Today is Saturday, October 5th. I went for a run this morning with a few other volunteers, organized my room, and ate lunch with my family before heading to a public pool to hang out with a larger group of volunteers. I’m ending this week with a wide smile and a warm heart. I’m happier than I imagined and look forward to the days, months, and years to come—though it’s a little daunting. I’m focusing on staying present and taking it one day at a time, resisting the urge to get lost in the unknowns of the next two years.

Of course, there are moments of sadness and tears. I’ll miss parts of my home in the U.S., but I’m also creating a home and family here in Paraguay. I’m ending this week feeling connected to myself. Sometimes stripping life of its complexities allows us to feel more human, and that’s what I feel. Here’s to making this week better than the last and as good as I hope the next will be.

With love, a smile, and a big hug,

Ava-Rae

Flying over Denver. Rain gently tapping the window next to me as the plane accelerates eastward. Leaving home. Leaving my friends, family, and all I know. I watch the raindrops as my own vision begins to blur, forming raindrops of their own in the form of tears. It is September 22nd, 2024. The first day of fall. The leaves have just began breaking down thier chloryphyll, changing into beautiful shades of yellows and orange in preparation for winter. They have not yet reached the earthly persimmon orange or deep maple red that can only be described by fall. I feel a sadness for the seasons that will be missed and already feel a relentless longing for cold winter mornings, and brisk snowy nights. I will miss ski days, hungover Sunday brunches with my bestfriends, and the priveledge of a warm shower. I fear the long heat of the summer and inevitable loneliness. It is okay that I am afraid, for only in fear may I truly escape comfort. And without escaping comfort growth cannot be had. I am excited about the months ahead. I am excited to meet the strangers that will soon become my family. I can't wait for the heart felt covos, silly nights, and the warmth of human connection.

I am leaving. My wings are beginning to spread in preparation for the many adventures that have been perfectly placed along my path. I will learn and unlearn. I will unravel, tangle, untangle, and become rewired. In the next 27 months I will meet a women named Ava-Rae. Her head will be held high and her wisdom will be immense. She will still be me, as I will her, both forms of us existing within the world. I also will bring old versions of myself along for the journey. Young Ava-Rae who spoke Spanish with her best friend Aurora and loved Barbies will aid in the effort of immersion. A hot-headed, sassy teenage version of me will assisst in preparation for the hardships. The Ava-Rae that has spent the past four years in university is equipped with the ability to aquire and apply knowledge, helping in my ability to improve my Spanish, learn Guaraní, assimilate to a new culture and living environmemnt, and soon put my technical skills to the test.

The trillions of vibrating cells in my body hold experience, emotions, and memories from the past 22 years. I am proud of the Ava-Rae I am today and eager to meet the woman that I will soon become. I will hold with me pieces of home in the chronicles of my mind. For now, the mountains I climb may have to be metaphoric and snow may require sorting through the archives of my hippocampus. My friends and family will exist alongside me throught the words written in their letters and the photos that I brought along with me. I am ready because I am here. The door has been opened and I am currently walking  in as chapters from my passt life are closing, but remain written into the book of my life and ingrained into my DNA forever.

Chao a mi casita, a Colorado, a mis amigos quein me dieron la seguridad de volar por el mundo, y mis padres que me dieron la libertad y confianza de tomar un camino inusual.

Gracias a todos. Sin Ustedes no estaria aqui viviendo mis sueños.

Mb'aichapa Paraguay ! Soy lista para las adventuras y desafíos que voy a encontrar.

Con Amor,

Ava-Rae (Eva en Paraguayana)

Serves 2

• Ingredients:
• 2 atlantic salmon filets
• Teriyaki
• olive oil
• Harrisa
• garlic powder
• salt and pepper
• honey
• arugula
• 1 apple
• ~10 sugar peas
• 1 avocado
• Fresh mint
• vegan green goddess dressing from whole foods

Procedure:

1. Mix 2 tbsp of teriyaki,  1 ½ tbsp of honey, harrisa (I used ~1 ½ tbsp), garlic powder, salt and pepper
2. Drizzle salmon with olive oil and coat in marinade
3. Preheat oven to 350 degrees fahrenheit and let marinate in fridge for 30 min (if time permits)
4. Once marinated, place in oven for about 25 minutes
5. Finely chop apple, mint, snap peas, and avocado
6. Mix veggies and arugula
7. Top with ~ 1 tbsp vegan green goddess
8. Once salmon is ready take out and let cool
9. Finally, top salad with salmon and enjoyIngredients:
10. 2 atlantic salmon filets
11. Teriyaki
12. olive oil
13. Harrisa
14. garlic powder
15. salt and pepper
16. honey
17. arugula
18. 1 apple
19. ~10 sugar peas
20. 1 avocado
21. Fresh mint
22. vegan green goddess dressing from whole foods

Procedure:

1. Mix 2 tbsp of teriyaki,  1 ½ tbsp of honey, harrisa (I used ~1 ½ tbsp), garlic powder, salt and pepper
2. Drizzle salmon with olive oil and coat in marinade
3. Preheat oven to 350 degrees fahrenheit and let marinate in fridge for 30 min (if time permits)
4. Once marinated, place in oven for about 25 minutes
5. Finely chop apple, mint, snap peas, and avocado
6. Mix veggies and arugula
7. Top with ~ 1 tbsp vegan green goddess
8. Once salmon is ready take out and let cool
9. Finally, top salad with salmon and enjoy

She holds me until my body can inhale her sweet oxygen, until my muscles relax into her open arms. She supports me with the strength that has been built throughout the centuries of her existence. Her whistling winds softly caress my arms, leaving goosebumps in their tracks. Her warm summer nights let me sink heavily into her embrace, free for a moment from the manufactured pressures of the 21st century. Her rivers rush by, reminding us of the constant flow of life. Her mountains teach us the art of ebb and flow, forcing us to climb before being blessed with the victory of the peak. Her waves remind us of her strength, her trees of her wisdom, and her rocks of her tranquility. Within the grasses, you can find her vulnerabilities in the form of flowers, only blooming during the spring when they feel nurtured enough to open up. Today, I was reminded of her power while adventuring through her mountains, valleys, and country roads.

Honestly, the past couple of weeks have been a battle between funks and glories. I am currently in a time of transition: finished with university while awaiting my next adventure. Routines have been hard to create, and it has been a challenge not to feel guilty for not functioning at the same pace as I did in school. While I know rest is important, it is also difficult. Furthermore, I am home for the last time for the next two years. Knowing that I will not be back for some time, I want to do it all — see all my friends, hike all the peaks, experience all the music, visit all the bars and dinners. However, within all the excitement, I can lose touch with myself. The moments that I need to recharge are suddenly gone, and I am running on adrenaline. Without these moments, I do not have the energy to be the best version of myself.

Furthermore, while home is comforting and exciting, it can also be difficult. I have found myself becoming lost in the freedom of an unstructured schedule and pulled back into the patterns of the person I was when I last lived here. While many of my days have been filled with moments of laughter and bliss, it is a place where a prior version of myself existed. Growth can be hard to maintain, and old patterns hard to avoid. I guess it's a testament to the polarities of life — all cannot always be perfect. Home is comfortable; however, in comfort, growth is hard. Home also pertains to childhood, which is beauty and innocence, but also a reminder of the roots of my insecurities.

Feeling these imbalanced waves of energy and emotions, I have thought a lot about how to control them. I am someone who seeks control when things feel unbalanced. I am familiar with structure, so in my head, the easiest way to recenter is to exert control over all I do, eat, drink, and think. However, what I realized was that rules may lead to short-term progress but they don't last. Being restrictive only feels good for the moment; it’s a form of addiction. Just as the first step to recovery from addiction is taking responsibility for your actions, the same is true for emotional addictions or patterns. I know that there are things at home that cause me anxiety, and I am the only one responsible for this feeling. My anxiety belongs to me and is within my control. I may not be able to rid myself of it at this moment, but I can take responsibility for it.

Instead of imposing strict rules over my life and the physical and metaphorical substances I ingest, I am deciding to pay attention to what feels good inside of me. Here, surrounded by the peaks of mountains, I know I feel good. Today felt good. Skiing down her wide-faced peaks in the middle of June feels good. Her quaint cowboy towns, where secrets remain hidden within the cracks of red antique bricks, urge curiosity. Driving amongst the trees that bend gracefully, through the waterfalls that carry the remnants of winter, and past the lakes that collect the breaths of passerby, I feel truly safe. The wilderness is my home. She holds me. She loves me. She protects me, and reminds me of the woman I am.


- Ava-Rae ❣

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 12 oz of salmon or 4 portions of salmon (each are ~3oz)
• broccoli or cauliflower or both (~2 cups)
• ~4 oz of arugula (a bag is 5oz)
• 1 cup cherry tomatoes
• 2 avocados
• 1 cucumber
• 3 lemons
• Fresh dill (~16g)
• cup orzo
• olive oil
• honey
• garlic (either fresh or powder)
• salt and pepper
• Paprika
• Harissa seasoning

How to make:

1. In order to make marinade for salmon mix lemon juice from 1½  lemons, ¼ cup honey, 2 tbsp olive oil, 2 tbsp fresh dill, 1-2 cloves garlic, salt, pepper, paprika into a bowl
2. Coat salmon thoroughly in marinade, corver and place in fridge for 30 min
3. Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit
4. Cook 1 cup of dry orzo (use instructions on package), once done place in fridge to cool
5. Cut and prep tomatoes, cucumber, and avocado
6. Place broccoli on baking tray and coat with olive oil, ½ juice of lemon, harissa, garlic, paprika, salt, and pepper cook for ~15 minutes
7. Place marinated salmon on separate baking tray and cook for ~20-25 minutes
8. Once orzo is cool mix with prepped veggies and arugula
9. Top with salmon and roasted veggies
10. GRUB GRUB GRUB

Some people or groups of people are born fighters. Not necessarily because they want to fight but because society has placed them in roles in which they are required to fight. The U’wa Indigenous group in the northeastern Colombian Cloud Forests exist amongst the world's fighters. The U'wa people and their ancestors have been fighting to save their peoples, their lands, their culture, heritage and religions since the beginning of the 14th century.

The U’wa people, a deeply spiritual and resilient indigenous group with a population of about 7000, live in the remote northeastern Andes of Colombia  (Issue brief: Colombia’s U’wa people). U’wa people and their territory are distributed among 22 communities in the departments of Northern and Southern Santander, Boyaca, Casanare, and Arauca (Colombia-U’wa, 2015). U’wa people consider it their role to protect the earth and have gone to great lengths to do so.

Beginning in the 14th century when Spanish conquistadors arrived in Colombia, the northeastern Andes have been subjected to mass extraction. Colonizers forced indigenous groups off their land and spread disease throughout their communities, and extracted resources from their lands. U’wa experienced a significant decrease of their population as a result of the violence and deadly diseases that conquistadors brought to Colombia. “U’wa lost nearly two-thirds of their population to disease through the devastation of contact with Spanish conquistadors, slave traders and missionaries.” (Rodriguez, J., 2019). Additionally, many indigenous peoples were enslaved and forced to work on mines, despite having strong beliefs against resource extraction. Eventually, some U’wa people were able to resist against forced labour by commiting mass suicide. U’wa see any type of resource extraction as harming Mother Earth and would therefore rather die than harm what they seek to protect. Mass suicide became a resistance strategy that U’wa has become internationally known for and one that they continue to use today. “Berito Cobaria, president of the Traditional U'wa Authority, proclaimed, "[We] would rather die, protecting everything that we hold sacred, than lose everything that makes us U'wa.'' Additionally, U’wa was subjected to vast land loss during Spanish colonization. Historically the U'wa ancestral territory covered an area of some 1.4 million hectares of land. Today however, this territory has been vastly reduced, amounting to 200,000 hectares or 14% of what they previously possessed (Colombia-U’wa, 2015).  Ultimately, U’wa people were forced to abandon their own land and move into the mountains in order to protest against conquerors. “For the next 200 years, U’wa took refuge in the mountains which protected them from Spanish domination and extermination due to the difficult and rugged terrain. (Minority Rights Group International). The horrors of colonization forced U’wa people to develop the resistance strategies that have aided them in fighting against oppression and protecting their land.While it is important to acknowledge the atrocities that were committed during Spanish colonization, it is also important to recognize the strength of many indigenous groups, whom were able to rise up and resist against colonizers at a time in which everything had been taken from them.

In More recent times the gas and oil industry has been perpetuating colonial ideology on what is known to be U’wa ancestral land. Occidental Petroleum Company (Oxy), a US based leader in oil and gas exploration and production, had their eyes set on Samorés Block, a region in the Northeastern Andes consisting of Arauca, Boyacá, and Norte de Santander where in the early 1990s oil exploration of an 800-square-mile portion began (Rodriguez, J., 2019). It was thought that this region contained 2500 barrels of crude oil (Miranda, L. A. , 2006 ), summing to about 150,000 US gallons (Barrels of oil equivalent).

Functioning under a capitalistic model, Oxy’s primary goal is maximization of profits. Oxy wanted to drill on the Samoré Block to expand on their oil activities that were present in Colombia and to gain revenue, which they estimated to be 14 billion US dollars (Miranda, L. A. , 2006 ). Oxy is associated with projects that have resulted in wide-spread injustices. Most notably the Love Canal disaster in New York.

U’wa claims ancestral ties to the Samore Block region and understand oil to be the  blood of mother earth. They therefore see that extraction of such oil is thus representative of the death of their mother (Miranda, L. A. , 2006 ). “Oil is the blood of Mother Earth ... to take the oil is, for us, worse than killing your own mother. If you kill the earth, then no one will live” (Issue brief: Colombia’s U’wa people ).Despite governmental recognition of U’wa land and resources as ancestral territory, their rights have not been upheld by the state. In 1991 Colombia’s constitution underwent significant reform, establishing a decentralized democratic governmental regime, and promoting human rights (OpenAI). Under this new constitution, Indigenous peoples were granted the right to oversee uses of the land and settlement on their territories, design programs involved with economic and social development, oversee implementation of investments on their land, and oversee conservation of natural resources on their territories (Colombia 1991 (rev. 2015) constitution). The constitution also mandates prior consultation of indigenous peoples for an engagement of projects within their demarcated lands (Miranda, L. A. , 2006 ). While the constitution formally recognizes and promises legal protection over indigenous lands and resources, it is clear that when faced with an opportunity for economic growth, the rights recognized in the constitution are not upheld. When states and corporate actors are in agreement, the accountability of domestic frameworks are not upheld. In the case of the U’wa, lack of accountability within legal frameworks leads to oppressive extraction, creating a barrier for the U’wa people to serve their role as protectors of Mother Earth.

In 1992, Occidental Petroleum (Oxy) applied for an exploration license for the Samoré Block. A couple years later in 1995, The Ministry of Mines and Energy and the Ministry of the Environment, who were responsible for exploration licenses, granted Oxy with a license for exploration without formal approval from U’wa. U’wa, angered by the complete denial of Oxy’s constitutional requirement for consultation with U’wa prior to extraction, filed for legal recourse which eventually reached the Colombian Constitutional Court. The court ruled that U'wa’s right to prior meaningful consultation under domestic constitutional guarantees had been violated (Miranda, L. A. , 2006 ). However, shortly after, the Council of State issued an approval of the licenses holding that Oxy did consult U’wa prior to beginning exploration. While U’wa assured that they had not been consulted regarding exploration, Oxy insisted that U’wa had signed a memorandum that established conditions for exploration (Miranda, L. A. , 2006 ). U’wa denied signing the memorandum and stated that they had only signed an attendance sheet and had made clear that Oxy would need to meet with U’wa elders prior to any exploration. In 1996  after refusal of Colombian government to uphold U’wa’s constitutional rights, U’wa retreated to a formerly used resistance tactic, vowing to commit collective mass suicide if drilling plans went forward as they would rather die than watch the destruction of both their native land and culture (Rodriguez, J., 2019). In addition to U’wa’s threat of mass suicide, there were protests in the international community. In 1997 a group of about 50 demonstrators, led by U’wa chief Roberto Cobaria, gathered outside the headquarters of Oxy in Los Angeles, peacefully protesting against Oxy activity on U’wa land (Murillo, S. D. & M., 2007). Despite a small population, U’wa people organized several protests, showing up to protect their land. Meanwhile, in 1997 after efforts had failed within domestic courts, U’wa filed a petition with the Inter-American Commission to review the case. With the help of the OAS it was eventually ruled that oil activity in the Samoré region should be suspended until proper consultation had been undergone. The Colombian government was then forced to halt oil operations and in addition expanded U'wa demarcated territory from 98,000 acres to 543,000 acres (Rodriguez, J., 2019), signifying a win for U’wa. However, this victory was short lived as the government granted Oxy exploration rights to land adjacent to their expanded territory. U'wa and various organizations protested the newly granted exploration of oil, as consultation was still not upheld.

Eventually, in 2002 Oxy pulled out from their projects in the region due to insufficient oil on the land that they were granted rights to. Even Though Oxy abandoned the region, this did not symbolize an end to the battle against oil extraction that U’wa people have been long fighting, but rather just gave way for the next corporation to enter and seek exploration rights, repeating the same story and injustices that were seen in the case with Oxy. Despite what may have seen like a victory for U’wa, proceeding Oxy’s departure, rights to oil on land overlapping with U’wa territory was transferred to Ecopetrol. Ecopetrol is a Colombian state-owned oil and gas company that is pursuing and beginning operations in the Samoré region. The land is close to the Gibraltar wells, which U’wa consider to be a sacred water source. Ecopetrol’s operations have led to significant environmental and human health risks, polluting waterways. U’wa has said that continuation of the project will lead to the death of the sacred Cubogón river that feeds into the Arauca river (Issue brief: Colombia’s U’wa people - amazon watch). Additionally, Ecopetrol operations have perpetuated social conflict, causing an increase in guerilla groups in the region. U’wa once again must prepare to fight back as they always have. U’wa has outlined clear demands for the government but not all of them have been met.

Oil and gas industries have caused vast cases of injustice within indigenous communities throughout the world. From the Dakota Access Pipeline passing through Native Sioux land, to the benzene rich sludges in Ponca territory in Oklahoma caused by ConocoPhillips, to the threat that oil extraction poses for indigenous communities in Ecuador, to the risk that Occidental Petroleum has created to the culture and land of the U’wa tribe in Colombia. Within all of these cases exists the commonality of power abuse in order to maximize profits. These cases demonstrate injustice in which wealthy oil and gas companies strategically target and cause harm to marginalized communities. A typical case of injustice in which corporations sacrifice the health of those with less power.

This case leads me to beg the question of the value of the Colombian constitution? For whom are constitutional laws upheld and for whom are they mere words written in inc? What are the mechanisms and systems that have allowed for corporate actors to get away with infraction of constitutional laws and how can imposition of accountability be held? When and how can indigenous communities gain a voice? When will the protection that is outlined in the constitution become a reality? When will U’wa be able to peacefully live on the land that they are meant to protect?

U’wa has been subject to immense injustices throughout history, yet have continuously shown resilience despite their low position of power. Peaceful protests both locally and internationally along with threats of mass suicide has kept this group alive and has made them a widely known indigenous group despite their small population, however, how long will U’wa be able to protest.

Figure 1: Map showing region where U’wa people reside

References

Barrels of oil equivalent. Barrels of oil equivalent - Energy Education. (n.d.). Link

• Colombia 1991 (rev. 2015) constitution. Constitute. (n.d.). Link
• Colombia-U’wa. Justice.gov. (2015, June 19). Link
• Environmental Justice CASE STUDY. (n.d.). Link
• Giner Lloret. (2017). Social dynamics surrounding oil exploitation in Colombia: a case study of BP’s activities in Casanare. Deusto Journal of Human Rights, 6, 15–38. DOI
• Guardian News and Media. (2023, May 1). Indigenous community in Colombia gets its day in court over “ancestral land.” The Guardian. Link
• Issue brief: Colombia’s U’wa people - amazon watch. (n.d.). Link
• Kleiman, J. (n.d.). Love canal: A brief history. SUNY Geneseo. Link
• Minority Rights Group International. (n.d.). U'wa. Minority Rights Group International. Link
• Miranda, L. A. (2006). The U’wa and Occidental Petroleum: Searching for Corporate Accountability in Violations of Indigenous Land Rights. American Indian Law Review, 31(2), 651–673. DOI
• Murillo, S. D. & M. (2007, September 25). The U’wa struggle to survive. NACLA. Link
• OXY GRANTED DRILLING RIGHTS. (1999, Dec 31). Earth First!, 20(14). Link
• OpenAI. (n.d.). ChatGPT. Link
• Rodriguez, J. (2019, August 20). U’wa territory. Sacred Land. Link
• The thinking people: The u’wa battle oxy. Cultural Survival. (n.d.). Link
• U’wa indigenous People v. colombia. EarthRights International. (2023, August 8). LinkTable of contents. ENVIRONMENTAL JUSTICE CASE STUDY. (n.d.). Link

Mangrove Monitoring

Mangue , Ava-Rae Korres, 03 Julho, 2023

Abstract:

Mangroves are biodiverse ecosystems with significant economic and environmental values. However, in recent years, these valuable habitats have experienced severe degradation, jeopardizing their ability to fulfill their important roles. This research utilized Google Earth imaging techniques to monitor the degradation of the mangrove in Itacaré over a 20-year period, confirming the observed diminishing trend. To accurately measure the extent of mangrove size decrease, future research should employ advanced technology in subsequent years.

Introduction/Background:

Mangroves, which are biodiverse and carbon-dense ecosystems, play a crucial role along coastlines. They consist of over 80 species that thrive in coastal tropical and subtropical areas with low-oxygen soil and sediment accumulation due to water movement (US Department of Commerce). Mangroves are considered keystone plant species as they provide habitat and support the thriving of numerous other species. These ecosystems hold multifaceted values, including environmental, economic, cultural, touristic, and recreational benefits. Mangroves are vital in the fight against climate change and can remove more than eight times the amount of CO2 compared to the Mata Atlântica. They also provide habitat for endangered species, contribute to shoreline stabilization, and act as storm buffers (Yancho, J. M. M.). Mangroves serve as traps and cycling systems for organic materials and nutrients, offer food and habitats for organisms, and serve as buffers against storms (What is a mangrove?).

From an economic standpoint, mangroves are significant entities, providing fuelwood, medicine, fiber, timber, and food. Furthermore, they act as natural filtration systems, improving the water quality along coastlines. Unfortunately, recent human activities have led to the degradation of mangrove ecosystems worldwide. Within the past few years alone, 35% of mangroves have disappeared (Yancho, J. M. M.).

Mangroves are unique plant species that have adapted to harsh conditions where other plants struggle to survive. They can tolerate water that is up to 100 times saltier than what most other plants can withstand. Despite being flooded twice daily by ocean tides, mangroves thrive. They filter out approximately 90% of the saltwater that enters their roots, and some species extract salt through their leaves. Additionally, mangroves store freshwater in their leaves, which are equipped with small hairs that reduce water loss by deflecting wind and sunlight (AMNH). However, these exceptional traits are insufficient to overcome the adverse effects of pollutants generated by large-scale industrial agriculture and aquaculture industries.

Mangroves rank among the most threatened ecosystems globally, requiring immediate action. Less than 50% of the world's mangroves remained intact by the end of the 20th century, and those that survive are in poor condition (AMNH). Industrial agriculture, aquaculture, and other polluting human activities are causing substantial destruction to mangroves worldwide. Itacaré, Bahia, faces similar challenges, including deforestation, urbanization, sewage, and the 2019 oil spill incident. Despite legal protection, mass urbanization continues, with two neighborhoods directly encroaching upon the mangrove. Urbanization leads to deforestation and increased pollution impacting both natural and man-made areas of Itacaré. As a result, sea levels are rising, leading to coastal flooding and jeopardizing the population living in the area (Ferreira, A. C., & Lacerda, L. D.).

The urbanization of Itacaré has also caused an increase in sewage, garbage, and oil in the mangrove and coastal areas, hindering the mangrove's ability to function as a filtration system. This pollution has led to the destruction of the mangrove and poses a risk of water contamination within the town. Furthermore, deforestation and mangrove destruction in Itacaré increase the risk of insect-borne infectious diseases due to changes in the environment and insect life cycles. Studies have shown a direct correlation between deforestation and increased incidence of diseases like malaria and dengue (Guimarães, R. M. et al., 2016).

Methods:

Using Google earth imaging techniques, screenshots of the Mangrove in Itacaré, Bahia (14°16'28.3"S 39°00'24.5"W) over the past 20 years in order to monitor the decreasing/diminishing mangroves were registered. Using these photos was possible to interpret the changing size patterns and to determine if the mangrove had indeed decreased in size over the years.

Results:

Discussion/Conclusion:

Based on the provided results, a pattern of decrease in the size of the mangrove in Itacaré has been determined, accompanied by an increase in urbanization . Although the imagery reveals the shrinking of the mangrove, the advancing Google Earth technology is producing clearer and sharper photos over time. However, due to the limitation of focusing on a specific region and a small section of land, the quality of the photos and the number of available images from Google Earth are restricted, making it challenging to visualize the degradation of the mangrove. Monitoring the mangroves in specific regions remains important, but it is difficult given the limitations of the current Google Earth technology.

Furthermore, the absence of consideration for tidal patterns during the image capture process affects the accurate portrayal of the mangrove's size using the Google Earth imagery technique. To obtain precise results, affordable technological advancements are still required to ensure accurate imagery. In the future, additional research should be conducted to monitor small portions of the mangroves in Bahia and other subtropical and tropical areas worldwide. This research should employ more advanced technology to capture time and tide-specific photos, enabling accurate analysis.

Preserving mangroves is crucial for environmental and economic progress in Brazil. The country houses more than 6.4% of the world's mangroves, covering over 89,932.0 hectares (Carvalho, R. C.). Mangroves have the potential to make a significant impact on combating climate change and reducing atmospheric CO2 levels. Protecting just one hectare of mangroves can reduce over a ton of atmospheric CO2, resulting in 25 times more fish, increased income, and a 50% decline in environmental impacts (Carvalho, R. C.). Coastal towns economically dependent on seafood sales greatly benefit from mangroves, as approximately 80% of all fish sold spend part of their lives in these ecosystems (Carvalho, R. C.). Enforcing existing laws and implementing mangrove planting initiatives can have a positive impact. However, bureaucratic obstacles and economic interests often hinder efficient mangrove conservation efforts (Ferreira, A. C., & Lacerda, L. D.). It is crucial for governments and communities in Brazil to prioritize the implementation of existing laws to prevent further environmental, social, and economic instabilities. Additionally, restoration efforts, such as planting mangroves, have shown promising results in Northeast Brazil (Ferreira, A. C., & Lacerda, L. D.).

The world is currently experiencing exponential climate change, resulting in the diminishing of mangroves and their multifaceted values. To continue benefiting from the economic and environmental value derived from mangroves, it is crucial to take immediate action and implement educational initiatives focused on sustainable industrial agriculture.

Works Cited

Carvalho, R. C., & Kikuchi, R. K. P. de. (2013, April 7). Reefbahia, an integrated GIS approach for Coral Reef Conservation in Bahia, Brazil - Journal of Coastal Conservation. SpringerLink. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s11852-013-0243-6

Ferreira, A. C., & Lacerda, L. D. (n.d.). Degradation and conservation of Brazilian mangroves, status and ... Degradation and conservation of Brazilian mangroves, status and perspectives. http://guiase.s3.amazonaws.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/171/2017/06/02115731/232.-Mangrove-conservaion-in-Brazil.pdf

Guimarães, R. M., Valente, B. C., Faria, P. A., Stephanelli, L. L., Chaiblich, J. V., & Arjona, F. B. S. (2016, April 1). Deforestation and malaria incidence in the legal Amazon region between 1996 and 2012. Cadernos Saúde Coletiva. https://www.scielo.br/j/cadsc/a/Bx5HtYQwQVyXyQjFRCvzdJq/?lang=en

US Department of Commerce, N. O. and A. A. (2009, June 3). What is a mangrove forest?. What is a “mangrove” forest? https://oceanservice.noaa.gov/facts/mangroves.html#:~:text=Mangroves%20are%20a%20group%20of,allow%20fine%20sediments%20to%20accumulate.

What are mangroves? Coastal Protection and other benefits: AMNH. American Museum of Natural History. (n.d.). https://www.amnh.org/explore/videos/biodiversity/mangroves#:~:text=Many%20thousands%20of%20acres%20of,its%20way%20into%20water%20supplies.

What is a mangrove?. Florida Department of Environmental Protection. (n.d.). https://floridadep.gov/water/submerged-lands-environmental-resources-coordination/content/what-mangroveYancho, J. M. M., Jones, T. G., Gandhi, S. R., Ferster, C., Lin, A., & Glass, L. (2020, November 16). The Google Earth Engine Mangrove Mapping Methodology (GEEMMM). MDPI. https://www.mdpi.com/2072-4292/12/22/3758

It is currently Wednesday, June 28th.  I am sitting under the Bahian sun. Everytime I open my mouth, tasting a bit of salt that lies upon my lips from the sea in front of me. I have grown to love Wednesdays. Prior to embarking on my journey, Wednesdays were already my favorite day of the week. Wednesdays mark a half-way point in the work week filled with visceral bliss. Here, my Wednesdays are very relaxed. Although I love my mornings spent at Etiv, it is a nice mid-week treat to have the morning to myself. As someone who loves the mornings and a regulated morning routine, my Wednesday mornings give me a chance to start my day exactly the way I would like. I let myself sleep in a little, still catching up from a busy year and a week of using my brain to speak in a secondary language, which is indeed more tiring than one would think. After waking up at around 8:30-9ish I go for my run either along a trail or on the road, running over the hills and then all the way to the other side of the orla. My runs present me with time to think and reflect. Reflect on the past week, the weekend to come, and the present moment.

After my run I head back to my shared apartment with my friend Ella who is also a volunteer at ETIV. We are staying in a studio apartment owned by one of her close family friends who lives right above us. After returning to our apartment, we head up to the owner's home (Gui) for a quick coffee and breakfast that she is kind enough to make us each morning, then head back down to pack our bags for the day. As the sun was shining bright on this beautiful wednesday, we decided to go to praia Ribeira (best walkable beach for beginner surfers) to attempt to catch some waves. Unfortunately, after lugging our boards atop our heads to the beach, a lifeguard notices us and came over to notify us that the waves were quite strong due to a swell. We decided to play it safe and have a relaxed beach day, soaking up the sun. Neither of us had our phones so we had a nice couple hours of being unplugged and taking in nature. I sit here, journal in hand, grateful to the universe for guiding me here to Itacaré where the energy is vibrante, nature is abundant, and waves are pristine. I am beyond happy here in Itacaré and know that I am beyond lucky. I also know that I am here because I made a choice to be here, while the locals here may not have the privilege of that choice. Many people love living here and many people don’t. Although a wondrous beauty to us outsiders, it is important to acknowledge the social and economic difficulties that persist, hidden deep behind the glory. While we and our bank accounts may appreciate the $3.00 caipirinhas, we must at least acknowledge that these low prices lead to low salaries and are what people here live on. While there is apparent immaculate, physical and cultural beauty, we also must acknowledge the difficulties that exist in this town that relies on tourism.

• Ava-Rae Resnik ❤

Today is Thursday, July 29th, a rainy day in Itacaré calling for a slow morning with limited wifi. As the raindrops lightly hit the floor there is serenity and peace in the air. When it rains here the town comes to a pause. People put down their tools and pick up their books. Rainy days are time to slow down and be indoors with family. I sit here in my apartment, incense burning, window open. In front of me sits my journal where I write taking a moment of reflection and appreciation for where I am, for the past few weeks of adventure, work, portuguese, and all that this little coastal town has to offer.

The mixture of the incense and rain brings forth a nostalgic feeling of childhoods at home watching each raindrop fall, sometimes getting the motivation to put my rain boots on, run outside and dance. Here, I am tempted to do the same and on rainy nights out in the town I do. Embracing the gift of the source that is bigger than us. Realizing that rain is a gift and brings beauty to Itacaré, making the trees grow taller and greener. Rain brings water, a precursor of life and the raindrops symbolize growth in my eyes. Not only growth of the flora but also of us humans if we allow for it. During these slow mornings we can reflect upon the areas of our life that we hope to see growth.

As the week is also coming to an end, now is a good time to plan for the next week to come, making personal internal goals and making goals for the things I want to do here in Itacaré. I am hoping that this next week brings beautifully curved waves and lots of beach time as my goal is to become a surfer. I want to be able to paddle past the break zone, read the language of the waves and paddle with them as they become big, slowly standing to ride the waves all the way into shore. I want to see more of the local spots in this little town, even though Itacaré is little I know that there are many hidden secret treasures to explore. I want to find more places to listen to the intricate beats of the drums. I want to watch capoeira and go to a class at the cultural center at least once while I am here, taking advantage of the potential knowledge gained within the deep Bahian culture in Itacaré. I also am determined to learn the fast footwork of samba as for now all I can do is sit back and admire the rapid moves of the men and women alike that come together at the end of the night after the sun comes to a fall.

• Ava-Rae Resnik ❤

“I have not a clue what love is but I know that it is the reason we all exist.” - Allie Michelle

What is love?

I have posed this question to myself a million times, day in and day out coming up with various definitions, then proceeding to find imperfections within them and throwing them out. These various definitions have led me to the conclusion that love is indefinable and variable.

Love is a force or feeling that is dictated by the beholder rather than by the dictionary. Some say that it is a feeling that words fail to encapsulate. Others, explain love as a feeling described as warmth in their hearts or full submission and trust in another being. I myself have never been “in love” pertaining to the romantic type of love, however I have felt a strong love for my animals, my family, my friends, for the mountains that hold the divinity of the world, and for the rest of the flora and fauna that allows for life on earth. While I do seek to encounter love in a romantic setting one day, I know that love cannot and should not be forced or played with. Our minds often mistake other feelings for love, leading to toxicity within relationships. This is part of what makes love so hard to define. Many who believe they were once in love grow to realize that they were rather in a state of dependency or lust that served as a temporary state of love. But then again, who am I  to say that love cannot be temporary? In fact, as I have grown older, witnessing people and relationships change, I have come to realize that love too can change. If love is a feeling encompassed by an ever changing being then love too must change. Yet another issue pertaining to the definition of love is the inability to capture the essence of love. Love is not a universally shared feeling. Everyone experiences love in different ways and love cannot be seized, defined or measured. In fact, there should be no need to define or measure love for one who is in love will have no question regarding their feelings. They will not be in search of a socialized, generalized definition to confirm their feelings of love for they will already know.

Love is powerful. The act of making love is the precursor of life. In this sense loving is living and is part of the human purpose. Love protects and conquers but it also destroys. Love is not perfect. The act of loving requires extreme vulnerability that may lead to deep woundage and heartbreak, but I know that no matter how long the heart may hurt, every second of true love is worth it . I began with a quote from young poet Allie Michelle because her poem “Not a love Poem” not only perfectly captures my view of love but also helped me raise my chest wide and open my heart up to the concept of love. Her poem made me hopeful and excited to find love within myself, for myself, and for the other beings who I may one day cross paths with.

As I now look back on my time in St. Martin, a week and a half after finishing the program, I walk the earth with a shifted mentality. My eyes have changed to observe my surroundings, curiously pondering the mechanisms in place that have formed the communities, religions, and cultures throughout the world. I peer into restaurants, considering the prices on the menus, the customers entering and exiting, and the role that the workers play. Some are in the kitchen, while others are in the front, I question and observe patterns between the people in each of these roles and ask myself why this is the case. I recognize the role that history and colonization play in today's society. I recognize the unfortunate inequalities that persist, ingrained into day to day life. My knowledge has been expanded, my mind opened, my eyes widened, and my heart deepened. I find myself observing the structures throughout the towns and cities I bypass, making comparisons to St. Martin. I remember the wise words that Jah Bash gifted us with and often find myself recalling and reciting his words in the situations I have found myself in, slowly sprinkling his wisdom throughout the world.

Now, as I am in Brazil, another nation built upon the racist inequalities of European colonization and slavery, I am noticing the similarities to St. Martin. The small town I am residing  and working in, similarly to St. Martin, is another small coastal place that economically depends on tourism. I am finding that there are in fact many similarities between St. Martin and Itacare. First and foremost, in both places the lingua franca and most practiced religions are a direct result of colonization, demonstrating the harsh and abundant effect of colonization in both Brazil and St. Martin. Additionally, Brazil, as the last country to abolish slavery, still struggles to mandate equality throughout the country in which skin color is still associated with social class. In Itacare, Brazil, there are also issues within the education system, leaving the children here at a predisposed disadvantage. The youth of Itacare only go to school for half of the day, either before or after noon. During the primary educational years, children get half the schooling that we get in the US. At the highschool level, kids are not prepared for college and it is no coincidence that the majority of locals in Itacare do not have a college education. In addition to the faults within the lower education system, most families do not have the funds to send their children to college in another town or do not have the resources to study enough for the college entry exams. Children must invest their own time and resources into filling in the empty gaps within their education. While some schools have English classes, others do not and either learn it on their own time or never get around to learning a second language. Furthermore higher education is uncommon. The closest university to Itacare is over an hour away and is inaccessible for many. Those who do end up moving away for university are those who are considered to “make it out” and never come back while those who do not leave for University are likely to stay in Itacare forever, creating the same brain drain system that exists in St. Martin. Youth education facilities, social standards surrounding education, and lack of job opportunities in both St. Martin and Brazil leads to a lack of education knowledge in these communities.

Yet another similarity between St. Martin and Brazil, is the lack of access to common goods. Here too, exists a tragedy of the commons. There is not equal access to  potable water and safe and clean sanitary facilities. Furthermore, inequalities exist within healthcare and outbreaks of STDs and STIs are common here. Sexual hygiene and practices come with risks to the health of men, women, and children in Itacare. Some kids are impregnated prior to reaching their teenage/ highschool years. Women’s health and safety practices are at risk. It is apparent that inherent inequality is a common theme within the political, social, educational, and economical realms of Itacare and St. Martin.

While important to recognize the harsh realities of both of these places, it is also essential to recognize not only the physical beauty that lures tourists in, but also the unseen charm within the culture of these places. In both places, where resources and money is not abundant, culture is rich. Despite the hardships the people hear face, they wake up each day smiling and happy to be alive. I have noticed that people here have an appreciation for the minute details in life and a connection to the people and nature that surrounds them. The importance of community is what holds these places together. As I am living here and in Brazil and while in St. Martin, I am/was  constantly learning. Learning from the people, the culture, the waves, and the trees, demonstrating that each and every person in the world has something to teach and something to learn.

Diving into a community as an outsider, has forced me to forget my preconceived thoughts and to unlearn many habits. I am now in a position where I know very little, I am for once a minority and must submit to my lack of knowledge. It takes courage and vulnerability to admit that the Portuguese I have is broken and that I cannot fully express my knowledge or feelings. Learning to find happiness within this discomfort is a challenge, yet what travel is about. I have discovered the importance of discomfort, of getting out of your shell, showing the world what you have to offer, and opening your heart to the lessons that can be learned.

I thoroughly enjoyed all of my time spent in St. Martin, but that does not go to say that there weren’t also difficulties. Something that I had to learn was to accept the polychronic concept of time that exists in both St. Martin and Brazil. Learning to slow down has been difficult beyond words.  I feel myself constantly looking for work, searching for projects and assignments to fill the empty spaces of my day. Growing up in the US, a monochronic clock is ingrained into me. I am used to a demanding schedule filled with tasks. I am used to running from one place to the next without a moment to step back and ponder what I am doing. However, while in St. Martin, time was treated more as an illusion, than a physical thing. Time to relax was valued, and time to eat and digest was built into the daily schedule. Adjusting to this very different concept of time was hard for me in St. Martin, and is still hard for me while in Brazil.  However, as I am forced to slow down, I am finding myself with more time to tune into my own thoughts as well as those of others. I find myself paying more attention to the details that are built into the systems around me. I have learned that our minds need time to rest in order to properly digest information. I have grown to appreciate the moments of stillness, but still occasionally find myself yearning for a fast paced life. I believe that it is within discomfort that growth occurs, so I am challenging myself to release into these moments of stillness, finding the innate delicacies of life.

St. Martin also taught me to question things that may be different and that it is okay to call out the faults within any culture. I have found myself thinking back on our discussions regarding gender roles, relationships, and sexuality. I still find it puzzling that within a culture built on standing up to oppressive systems, exists oppressive ideals. While I understand the role that the bible has on the concepts within the Rastafari movement, I am confused by the acceptance of the transgressions that are written. I would think that within a socially progressive movement, there would be alterations to all of the injustices within the bible. I think it is important to challenge religions and cultures around the world with a multifaceted approach in order to progress as a united world. The Rastafari movement has many important and beautiful ideals that should be applied within larger communities of people such as the importance of words, livity, usage of plants for medicine, an all encompassing love and so on. However, as a woman I cannot deny or excuse the complications that persist surrounding sexism and homogeneity.

Another concept that I have been having difficulty rapping my head around is the heroic view that people had of us in St. Martin. I felt that we were given too much attention. While what we were doing was important, it didn’t feel that we were giving any more than we were taking. I felt that the credit and attention given to us was demonstrative of the white savior mentalities that we were told to be aware of. I felt awkward and guilty about all of the publicity and photos that were being published of us. While I realize that the community was excited to show their culture and welcome in a group of students from a prestigious American university, I couldn’t help but question if our race and westernized social constructs shaped our roles. I am curious to see the difference in the way that New Orleans welcomes the USM students in comparison to how we were regarded upon arrival in St. Martin. While I am hesitant, I do truly hope that Tulane is just as welcoming and curious about the USM students. I think that it is interesting and important to reflect on our personal roles in St. Martin and the perception that was created of us. I am eternally grateful for meeting such influential people and participating in intellectual discussions, yet question the reason it was us in the room with the president rather than the local USM students.

Overall my experience in St. Martin was informative and gave me a deep understanding and curiosity of the inequalities and cultures throughout our world. I hope to continue to observe different cultures through the multifaceted and critical lense that St. Martin granted me with. I am forever grateful to the leaders, friends, and acquaintances I met. I left St. Martin with a gift from each of the people that I met including those on my program and will forever keep their wisdom close to my heart.

Amidst the paradise of both St. Martin and Itacare, there are problems that persist. This is what I believe I have learned both in St. Martin and Itacare. A tourists paradise can be a locals nightmare. It is important to look past the glamor, past the pristine beaches with the bluest water that I have ever seen, past the soft sand under my feet, and past the bars that light up at midnight exploding with reggae, laughter, and dancing, because, behind the periphery exists a population of people that are struggling. Struggling to put a meal on the table, to send their kids to university, and to submit to the idea that they will likely live in the same place forever. Behind the beauty, people are suffering from the systems that came to be as a result of colonization. Suffering from lack of resources, ill health, and unequal dispersion of commodities. While the cultures within both St. Martin and Itacare contain beauty and integrity, it is important to remember the disparities, the inequalities, and the cruel history that lingers within these societies.

ATTENTION: No need for sugary store bought granola. Homemade granola is easy to make, affordable, healthier, and even more delicious

Ingredients; (for whole bag of oats, makes A LOT)

Large bag GF rolled oats

Cinnamon

Salt

Coconut sugar

Maple syrup or honey

Coconut oil

Nuts (I chose hazelnuts, almond slivers, and pecans but any will work)

Dried fruits (I chose apricots and coconut shavings but again anything works)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit

Melt 2 cups of coconut oil in bowl

In large bowl place oats and nuts, mix in coconut oil making sure all oats are coated

Add 2 cups of maple syrup, ½ cup of coconut sugar, a couple pinches of sea salt and a lot of cinnamon

Place on two large baking trays and bake for 20-25 minutes or until a golden color

Make sure to stir granola so it doesn’t burn

Take out and let cool before adding dried fruits

So yummy on a yogurt bowl as shown above, an açaí bowl, or all on its own!!