Winter Nights: An Attempt at a Creative Narrative

It was another cold, quiet night but his hands and feet were surprisingly warm, a welcome change from the past couple of days when just keeping his fingers nimble enough to write had been a struggle. Yesterday, nothing had seemed to bring his frozen fingers back from numbed uselessness. Thinking of the cold, Richard tagged gloves as a “to buy” item but they really fell into the category of things not really worth getting or would never remembered to buy anyway. Richard leaned back in the old wooden chair he had commandeered from the school. It had once been a desk chair, the desk part long gone leaving only the wooden support piece to make sitting awkward when approaching from the right. It was a fitting chair to have in rural Paraguay, a good representation of the disrepair and acceptance of it that defined so much of Paraguay.
Peering from the computer screen back at his desk, the instant coffee he had just brewed was already cold, ceasing to function as the warming elixir of energy it was intended for and transmogrifying into yet another bitter reminder of the futility, barrenness, isolation and disappointment of his current work. In front of him sat an abundance of further proof, an electric hot water boiler, contents cold, a new spy novel, recently worn from use, featuring an Asian American protagonist, John, lost in his own frigid and solitary life. There was the flimsy modem stick jutting out awkwardly from the computer, its fickle blue light reminding him that, just for the fleeting moment, he had the privilege of being connected to the the world he knew. To his left sat the the cheap, rectangular, cell phone making up for its simplicity with a cool color scheme and the words FM RADIO which was advertized as if it were something exceptional or noteworthy. It was a basic phone to keep in contact with the other 200 volunteers he never bothered to call anyway and whose only real merit was its function as a morning alarm clock he never woke up to. Still, it was always close. Just for the remote possibility that it would break the mundane silence with ringing promise of a text or incoming call.
        There was the big shining white GRE book that screamed first world and tied him to his real future back in the first world along with the dull pencil, dirty, used eraser and tiny manual pencil sharpener that embodied his current third world setting. Lying adjacent and half under the laptop was a scrap of notebook paper with scribblings on the costs of a chicken project, its surface stained with oil from some hastily cooked, half satisfactory meal. The project had been moderately successful and he was trying to improve on it. On top of that, a folded cheat sheet pointing out the requirements for various Peace Corps grants that he had hoped to explore but would probably never make any real progress on. Underlined portions signals of the enthusiasm he once had.
He downed the rest of the coffee chilling his throat but bringing him some sort of resemblance of the clarity he sought an hour ago. He thought about John Rain, expert spy. At least John lived in Tokyo and had the advantage of being a real spy. It was distinctly superior than living in the farmland of Paraguay and having locals think you are a spy. Finally lying in front of him,between his body and the laptop were two over used tissues that had probably been first used to blow his nose in the morning then used again for the same purpose for the following 3 days while periodically functioning to clean  small liquid spills. It was unhygienic but utilitarian and there was no justifiable reason to change what worked.
He was at his kitchen table which would more accurately be described as his everything table, work desk, dining table, and kitchen table. It was where he was most of his days during this cold winter, hunched uncomfortably on the low table cutting vegetables, sitting awkwardly, straining his back to accommodate any position where he could scrounge up internet signal and loudly castigating himself when he made careless mistakes on GRE practice questions.

Tonight was just like any other night. He rubbed his face in his hands happily reminding himself that both his face and hands were warm. It wasn't so bad. There was electricity, running water, hot water if he waited a couple minutes, internet and good books. Considering where he was, the house was pretty nice. 4 large rooms with concrete floors, in house bathroom, hot shower, flushing toilet and mirror,  windows in every room and practically no leaks in the roofing. His amenities were better than many volunteers. The green walls he had recently painted, also gave the rooms a warmer, alive feeling, though the job was incomplete close to the ceilings where he had gotten lazy and put it off for a day that may never come.  Richard rubbed his hands together, feeling the cold creeping in. With a deep breath he sat up and reopened his GRE book to the vocab section. The coffee may have not had the desired invigorating effect but good enough to get something done. Maybe tomorrow would be warmer he thought and he could try to shake off the futile feeling that so often came with the cold.    

Marbles and More

Marbles:

Assorted marbles for reference.

Marbles is a game I lose at all the time in Santa Librada. Normally, I'm okay with not being good at games I didn't grow up with (having accepted that any ragged, bare foot 13 year old will beat me shin guards, cleats, 11 years and all. (no I dont actually have cleats or shin guards, yes, I get schooled by children often). But when 8 year olds dominate you in a game that makes gold fish look like 4 player chess from Big Bang Theory, its hard to stay strong.


Marbles requires 2 things, marbles and flat dirt. The game works like this. Each player has their own stash of marbles. A cup size circle is drawn in the dirt and each player deposits one of their own marbles into the circle. The players then retreat back to a predetermined location about 10 feet away and use another marbles to try to hit the group of marbles out of the circle.

Artists rendition of marbles the game.

The players, lets say Roque, Ronald and Ariel (all real boys in my community) take turns shooting. When a marble or marbles from the center is/are hit out of the circle, that player wins that/those marbles and adds them to their stash, also getting a second shot if a marble is hit. (like winners in basketball). In addition when a shooting marble is thrown by a player, that player's next shot will be taken from where his shooting marble came to rest. The winner is the player who wins all of the marbles from the other players.

Now im not sure if these games are played for keeps because I feel like the best player in the community would just have a ginormous stash of marbles but in any case, this weekend I am off to buy my own marbles and begin practicing. The swarms of 8 yr old and their companions mocking me will hopefully be no more.

Bulgogi:

Living in Paraguay gives you lots of time to try things. One of those things is cooking and you'd be surprised to find that I can make bulgogi marinade here in Paraguay. So the other day I made bulgogi marinade and its actually pretty good (used it on ground beef and it tastes yummy). I think I need to let the beef marinate longer given that it says to marinate for 24 hours and I did it for about 18 minutes. If I can do it in a remote farming community in Paraguay so can you in the comfort of your temperature controlled, insulated, bug proof, highspeed internet, oven, TV, carpet, microwave, toaster, couch, glass window included homes in America. Here's the recipe you should try it.

The recipe below can marinate up to 4 lbs of beef. I like to make more marinade so I can freeze for a later time. Although it's a cinch to make the marinade, it does help me prepare a meal quickly after a long commute.

Meat
2 lb (1.8 kg) beef, sliced ribeye works well as picture above
Marinade:
garlic, 2 Tbs., pureed or chopped fine
scallion, 4-5 stalks cut 2" long
onion, 3/4 c (200g) pureed or chopped fine
soy sauce, 1/2 c. (110 g) regular. I use Kikkoman brand.
sugar, 1/3 c (100g)
sesame oil, 2 Tbs.
mirin, 1/4 cup
water, 1/4c (optional) to thin marinade
Asian pear, 1/4c (100g or so), pureed or chopped fine. Substitute 7-up or seltzer. (optional)

The last two ingredients are optional but highly recommended. My grandmother used to use 7-up but I like to use Asian pear. If your meat has passed its prime or you suspect that it's tough, add a 1/4 cup of pureed kiwi to soften the meat. A half of a kiwi does wonders. Don't overdo it or the meat can seem to fall apart.

Combine all the ingredients of the marinade. 

Rainy days are Snow Days:

            =





So I mentioned how rain affects rural life in Paraguay in a previous entry. I am now updating you on the fact that I treat rain days like personal vacation days. In rural areas rain during the day means no school, no field work, no nothing. Just sitting in door or next to fires hanging out. So every time I wake up to the pitter patter of rain drops on my roof or the frightening sight of my windows rattling and water seeping rapidly through my wooden windows, it is reason to rejoice....well kinda given that I need to move things away from my carpet and the assorted leaks in my roof as well as contend with losing power... soo hooray?

Internet:

I have to say I cant complain that I have internet out here. It's just enough to get gmail and facebook but makes a world of difference. The funny part is that I often have to hunt for a good signal. One would think that once you find a strong spot it would remain.. you know, strong but sometimes its like I only get signal when the moons align just right and the internet gods feel merciful. This leads to me dragging my table to awkward cramped, poorly lit areas of my house in search for signal. This also means precariously balancing or holding my lap top while methodically plugging in and taking out my stick modem to refresh the search. Its actually a really repetitive cumbersome task that I have gotten so used to that consistent good internet is always refreshingly amazing.

Unrelated hilarious photo.

Choosing what to eat

Yesterday I returned from the large city of Encarnacion after celebrating the 4th of July with other Peace Corps volunteers.

The celebration was pretty good. Nothing crazy but some great American style BBQ and drinking games. I left Encarn at around 3 for 3 hr bus ride. I arrived home at about 7 having eaten nothing all day but 1 piece of chipa (plz refer to chipa entry for details). I felt pretty bad, fatigued and headachy so i chugged the equal of two bottles of water and felt much better. On to the food.

Having returned from a major city, I had the means to eat a great sandwich. Actual sandwich bread, ham cheese, mustard, and even green bell peppers if I wanted. I also had leafy greens, rice, and meat that I could have stir fried for some asian goodness. 

But since is was cold as $%^& Richard wanted something fast and warm which brought me to..... RAMEN!.

Ramen is teeming with easy to make rapidly scrumtious awesomeness that could fill the cold void that was my stomach with chemically, flaming hot goodness that seeps down to the soul.... yum.

It was delicious. 

Breakfast of champions ends sadly. 

This morning Richard woke up excited for coffee (instant), cereal and fruit. Eating this breakfast is relatively luxurious bec Richard often doesn't have the milk, cereal or fruit, as in Richard usually has just the instant coffee and maybe some old rice. (cereal is relatively expensive and must be bought in town. Fruit must be bought in town unless its the right season, milk must usually be bought in town bec everyone has their own cows) Things bought in town are eaten by Richard in 2 days.

Richard made the coffee with milk, poured the cereal with milk and got out a cold soft tangerine from his fridge. He paused to look with appreciation at his healthy, awesome breakfast before diving into the cereal. After about 5 or 6 giant spoonfuls eaten with the vigor and happiness of a omnomnomivore dinosaur, he noticed his cereal was not nearly as delicious as it should have been. In fact it was rather undelicious and sour. Milk fail. Then the realization that his steaming hot cup of soul warming coffee was also now tainted. 

Sadness ensues. No cereal, no cofeee with milk, even the tangerine was on the verge of spoiling.... 

Richard decided champions are unphased by almost spoiled food, ate more cereal until he couldnt take it, drank half the cup of coffee until he couldnt take it and ate the overly ripe tangerine like a champion. 

I am feeling accomplished and will let you know if my determination will manifest itself in gut wrenching explosive ....

Until then...