Spreading My Wings
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
