Strawberry Festival

It is strawberry season here in Paraguay, obviously as there are people selling strawberries on all the major street corners. That also means that it is time for the Strawberry Festival in Aregua, about 30 minutes outside of the city. Saturday we decided to take a little trip out to celebrate the strawberry season and see where the berries are grown that end up in our kitchen. I have to admit I expected a bit more out of the festival, but I’m willing to mark it down to showing up so late – almost 4:00. Perhaps there would have been more going on if we had gotten there in the middle of the day. Perhaps not though, as the festival seems to go on until the end of strawberry season, so maybe that can’t really do much more than what I saw for a month. The Aregua strawberry festival consisted of approximately 20 tents lined up on the side of road. Each tent seemed to belong to one family or grower and contained baskets of strawberries, whatever strawberry products they produced (jams, jellies, liquor, juice) as well as a selection of sweets (strawberry shortcake, strawberry alphahores, strawberry frozen icicle pops, strawberries and cream in a cup…). I’m sure you get the picture. I’m not going to say that there was a whole lot of variety but if you like the chance to pick what you think are the prettiest looking strawberries then this was a great place to be. With the added benefit of them being cheaper where they are grown than they are once they make it to Asuncion.

We browsed for about three quarters of an hour to the music blaring over the loud speaker before deciding that we had bought all that we wanted (1 ½ kilos of strawberries to take home for me) and that we really wanted to see where the berries were grown before we left. Strawberry fields could be found less than a hundred meters from where the festival was set up, and after gaining permission from an old man sitting by the side of the road we wandered down the dirt path between two sets of fields. Talk about a field with a view! Behind the six or so fields lined up we could catch glimpses of the lake and the palm trees. Making this one of the most picturesque places I’ve been in Paraguay. I was more intrigued by seeing how this fruit grows than the festival itself. Rows of dirt piled up, covered in plastic, with holes for the strawberry plants to grow up through. Dark green leaves next to dark canvas made the ripe red strawberries stand out and cause my mouth to start watering. Barbed wire fences to protect the fields from…cows? People? Homemade sheds along the edges acted as storage for boxes. When I saw one field being harvested by hand I had to be glad that it wasn’t my job and that I could just buy a basket of strawberries that were ready to eat. My back is thankful for that as well. It was interesting to see another side of life in Paraguay and I will eat my fresh, ripe, sweet strawberries with much greater appreciation now.

[Traveling Tale] Going on Safari

After three trips to South Africa I decided that I really did need to go on safari if this was going to be my last summer/winter there (yes, it is true, I’ve finished my program and now have my Master’s degree in education). Safari. The word brings up images of wild animals and a wilder environment. But other than that I can’t say that I really had any true idea of what a safari really meant. Honestly, it turns out that it is a lot of time spent staring out of the car window hoping your eye will catch a color that doesn’t quite blend in or that a scrap of movement will grab your gaze and cause you to speak up that you see…something…perhaps a cape buffalo? But interspersed with the almost hypnotic driving are moments of sheer wonder. When you catch some movement and realize that there is a rhinoceros just over there, and then your guide/driver manages to move the vehicle so that you are positioned to watch it emerge from the bushes and cross the road just in front you. When you see a pile of cars stopped in the road ahead of you and know they must be looking at something good, waiting impatiently for your chance, and then catching the movement and seeing, yes, it is a leopard. A leopard that desperately wants to cross the road but is nervous from the noises of some of the cars. Topping a hill and realizing all those spots you see are actually zebra grazing along the plain, and indeed they are all black and white striped including their manes (which still seems like an extremely odd color scheme for an animal, if you ask me). It is sitting at a water hole and watching a couple of hippos play around in the water. Then moving on to another one and seeing a single hippopotamus get his nap in the sun disturbed by some elephants and reluctantly splashing into the water for safety. It is breakfast after 3 hours in the car at a rest camp where a hippo family makes its way across the river, and bright yellow masked weavers snack on your breakfast bowl whether you are finished or not. It is counting yourself lucky that you’ve managed to see 4 of the big 5 (leopard, elephant, rhinoceros, cape buffalo) without much effort and even managed multiple sightings of most of them. It is your guide lamenting that because you’re not from here you don’t realize how rare and amazing of a sighting that is…the inyala…when it just looks like another antelope to you, admittedly with funny white spots that almost look like its eyes. And it is going out the last time hoping that maybe this time you’ll see a lion to complete your big 5 sightings. Staring intently out the window and find you are carrying on a monologue in your head “cat! Wait a minute. Did I just say cat? Oh my gosh…maybe it is a lion. Oh, oh, need to get him to stop the car and back up.” “Stop!” “What?” “I think I saw a cat. Back up. Back up. Right there!” And then to be even more excited when you realize that there are three young lions sitting not 10 feet from the side of the road. Sitting and smiling at you as if to say “we’ve been waiting for you.” So it turns out that a safari can have plenty of magical moments in between the staring out of a car window. And if you’re lucky you’ll see all that you’ve imagined including the giraffes, warthogs and baboons, along with a few things you’ve probably never even heard of.

Our safari was well organized by Wildlife Safaris and we were quite pleased with the tour we got out of it.

Blow that vuvuzela

On our way to the Ghana-Uruguay game Cairen decided that she wanted a vuvuzela so that she could fully participate in this South African World Cup. Quick bargaining occurred through the van window as we were stopped at a light and they soon came to an agreement that the yellow horn could be hers for 30 Rand (approximately $4). She quickly borrowed money to thrust it through the window as the car began to pull away with the green light. The street vendor was jogging alongside to make sure that he was able to finish the transaction. This was the first hint as to just what our experience might involve. Cairen began practicing her blows on the vuvuzela, sounding a bit like a dying elephant in the process. There is more skill involved than you would think! She continued to practice all the way to the game so that she could be read to join in the noise making.

Before the game I was struggling to decide whether I would be supporting Ghana or Uruguay. After all I’ve been to both countries and been pleased with visits to them both. I was not sure that I could choose between them (which at least has an advantage of not being upset no matter the final result). As we entered the train station I began to realize that there really wasn’t much of a choice to be had. If I didn’t want to stand out to badly I was going to be supporting the Black Stars of Ghana, the team that carried the “last hope for Africa” this World Cup. The train station held a steady stream of fans that were clearly headed…well…I assume to a train. We got caught up in the stream and followed the flow down the stairs, along a platform to await a train that would soon be stuffed headed directly towards Soccer City Stadium. The train was filled with energetic supporters of Ghana excited to be heading to a game. At times spontaneous chants broke out quickly involving the entire car. One man added rhythm with his drums while another was making sure everyone was ready to show their support with Ghanaian inspired face paint. We were off to the game!

Reaching the stadium a sense of anticipation was in the air. People (the three of us included) were so excited to be there, ready to support a team and see a great game of football being played. Despite having nosebleed seats (3rd row from the top of the stadium) gained just two days before the match, I found my seat to provide an excellent overview of the field…and the fans. Sure enough I could pick out just two pockets of Uruguayan supporters, proudly delineated in their blue and white, while all the rest of the stadium were displaying the red, yellow and green for Ghana. There were numerous people waving flags, a girl sporting the best flag topped head gear, and even a group dressed up in Ghanaian colored caps and gowns escorting a full body painted fan. Elvis was even there!

I have to admit that I was quite often distracted from the game by the fans. Particularly when a free kick came up. Without fail this would bring about a steady, rhythmic blowing on the vuvuzelas by large amounts of people. And if you think the noise sounded steady and large on the television you have no idea what it was like in person. I just had to thank my lucky stars that there was no one directly behind me adding to the noise. What’s that? Ghana just scored! With seconds left in the half the crowd goes completely wild and I am pressed to consider the last time I’ve seen or heard such a celebration for a single goal in a game. Frantic waving of flags. Jumping up and down. Loud blows of the vuvuzela. The African supporters are happy. Unfortunately the joy didn’t last until the end of the game, but despite the disappointment the crowd flowed out of the stadium pleased with how Ghana had represented themselves – marking their exclamations with quick toots of the vuvuzela. And you know what, by the end of the game Cairen was actually sounding just like all the others. All you have to do is keep on blowing that vuvuzela.

World Cup Excitement

The first of several posts on my World Cup experience around the globe.
When traffic came to a standstill with no signs of it starting to move again we paid our driver and jumped out of the car to finish walking to Ellis Park Stadium. It didn’t take long before the trickle of people turned into a steady stream which converged into a mass patiently waiting in line to go through security and have their tickets taken. You need not worry about finding the stadium the day of a game here in South Africa. You really can just follow all of the people. During the walk I found myself getting a big disgusted, all of the street vendors were selling Spain things! But worse, despite clearly wearing the red and white stripes of the Paraguayan jersey they were trying to sell me Spain gear! I don’t think so! I had already assumed that I would be one of the rare Paraguayan supporters at the match, the sales going on did nothing to dissuade me. Even once we entered into the park things were clearly unequal. The official fan shop was selling 7 different Spain shirts and just 2 for Paraguay. The other goodies…either Spain or South Africa. I guess it means that I’ll just have to cheer all that much harder for Paraguay once the game starts.

After exploring the grounds outside the stadium my friend and I parted ways to find out seats. When you buy last minute tickets you’re lucky enough to get tickets, don’t even think about them being together. We were on completely opposite sides of the stadium, but that’s okay. It just means we spread out the Paraguayan support a little bit more. Sure enough after I crawled over people to my seat I was the only Paraguayan supporter in my section. My friend had it a bit worse as he was surrounded by well decorated and enthusiastic Espana supporters. I think we may have been outnumbered by 1 to 1,000 around the stadium. My amusement came when people questioned me as to why I was cheering for Paraguay. The response of “I live there,” always brought a flat “oh.” They could never give me a good reason why they were cheering for Spain except for the claim that they were supposed to be the best in the world. One man told me it was the only jersey he could find, which after my observations on the way to the park I had to give some credit to. He was excited to help me wave my flag on occasion when I got especially enthusiastic.

Sitting a mere 14 rows away from the field I felt like I was in the middle of things. Watching them walk on and line up for the national anthem I could identify some of the players I've learned to recognize over the past month. After a team huddle the players took their position and the game began. I could easily read the numbers on the jerseys of the players and even felt like I could read their facial expressions at times. Before I knew it the whistle for half time blew, and I was left to consider the scoreless half while the dancer/cheerleaders came out to perform and Zakumi, the mascot for the World Cup, wandered around. With the start of the second half I was drawn back into the battle taking place on the field. I was caught up in the game most of the time but was occasionally distracted by the massive wave working its way around the stadium or a particularly coordinated blowing of vuvuzelas by the crowd. The stadium had such a great atmosphere that I could only think of how incredibly lucky I was to be there. Even though my evening’s story ended sadly with Paraguay’s 1-0 loss to Spain (impressing many people with their level of play along the way) I know that this will be one experience I will not soon forget.

playback

Living overseas I often head off to events not knowing what to expect or what exactly I’m getting myself into. Tuesday night was no exception. For a week my 10th grade students have been pestering me, “Ms C are you going to playback?” Playback? What in the world is that? I know part of their interest is the need for each of them to sell their tickets, after all this is a fundraiser for the sophomore class. But still, what is it? Words here and there tell me it is something about dance, or remaking a music video…in any case it should be a nice change from another fashion show or asado.

My friends and I show up at 7:30 for a show whose ticket said 7:00. We only have to wait another 15 minutes before the show starts (am I starting to adjust to Paraguayan time?). Soon enough the lights go down and the curtain rises at the Centro Paraguayo Japones. On stage is a group of black clad, teased hair girls. Above them on the screen is a video showing the same start. What continues on stage is their recreation of the dance video playing overhead. Ahh…that is what they mean by calling it “playback.” A group of five students from my school emerge next and proceed to dance to a hip hop mix. Perhaps what has occurred is a mix of playback and dance competition (although how you compare the two I’m not really sure). Next was my favorite, and the eventual winner, a playback which began with a conductor orchestrating three groups of dances around the stage. Add to the night a group of girls dressed in satin flight attendant costumes, another group which danced with barrels, a large group of women at work and a somewhat fireman inspired theme and you have an evening’s entertainment which is difficult to describe. I had to take some video to be able to fully convey the experience. In any case it was not my typical evening. I went to see what it was all about and ended up with quite the show! I’m left only be able to say so that is an ASA playback.

bus strike

There was a two day bus strike this week, and while all reports say that it ended up with some violence and many people upset I have to admit that I didn’t see much of a an effect, unless you count friends saying that the streets were much more crowded. Accounts say that 100 buses were seriously damaged and numerous people hurt. From what I can figure out this is not because people were upset the buses weren’t running, but because not all of the buses were on strike. Apparently the city buses around Asuncion are run by several companies and at least one of these companies did not participate in the strike. That would explain why I still saw some buses in the streets, and perhaps why I didn’t really notice there was a strike. From what I can figure out the bus drivers went on strike Thursday demanding a 15% wage increase and also requesting that the bus fair go up to 2,100Gs. That is approximately 50¢. What has been my biggest surprise is how little the strike seemed to affect my life. All of the workers made it to school and we didn’t even think about our maid not being able to get here until after she had come and gone for the day. There have perhaps been a few less people standing on the side of the street waiting for buses, and I have to wonder how much of an effect it had on businesses that depend on people who use public transportation here. I am also waiting to hear if there has been any change in the bus system thanks to this strike.

The Classico

A lot has been happening recently, I just haven't been able to find the time to write about it. Hopefully I'll be able to catch up on some of it this month.

A few weeks back I took the opportunity to have a “typical” Asuncion experience. Friends that are leaving at the end of the year wanted to go to the Classico – the biggest football rivalry in Asuncion, and the game that they say everyone needs to go to at least once. I figured I would take the opportunity to go with them and see what this Olimpia vs. Cerro rivalry is all about. It turns out that you can’t actually buy tickets at the stadium on game day. No worry, there are plenty of people trying to sell them on the streets. It took two men to come up with the 9 tickets we needed but there wasn’t too much of a mark up and we did have tickets in hand.

We entered the stadium a full hour before game time, to find that the stands were already almost full. We finally found seats close to the line of riot police that separated the Cerro and Olimpia fans. (Two lines of police with an empty section of seating between them). I did mention this is the biggest rivalry in the Paraguayan league, didn’t I? To the left of us there was a sea of black and white – the Olimpia fans – and to the right it was all red and blue – the Cerro fans. We were technically sitting in the Cerro section so I guess that means we were cheering for them if we wanted to cheer for anyone. (Never mind that we had all carefully chosen to wear colors not associated with either team.) The junior teams were playing but you could tell that everyone was just waiting for the real game. In the meantime I could take the time to appreciate the view out of the stadium, as we were up high enough to see the river beyond it, and shake my head at the amount of fan support each team had.

Soon enough it was game time. The officials walked out on the field and things got quiet. The announcer introduced the Olimpia team and as they stepped an entire half of the stadium erupted. Cheering, chanting, unfurling huge flags that cover an entire section of bleachers, and throwing white streamers onto the field. At one point it seemed as if the sky was a solid snake of white. And now the Cerro enter the field. The opposite side of the stadium is suddenly going crazy. Red and blue smoke pour forth, balloons are being waved, and I watch an enormous flag get unrolled over the heads of almost one fourth the stadium (How do they do that? I still don’t understand.). I began to realize that we had come as much to watch the fans as to watch the game. Perhaps that was a good thing, as it ended up as a zero – zero tie, with very few exciting moments. Although I might have missed some of the better moments when I was distracted by the crowd. We slipped out a few minutes before the end of the game to avoid the crowd and the possible craziness, however the scoreless result seemed to have kept things fairly calm. There is a part of me that wishes one of the teams would have scored just so I could have seen how their fans would react. (At least I’m not like one of my friends who has now been to three games in that stadium and not seen a single score.) In any event, it was definitely an experience.

For more about the history of this rivalry check out this FIFA article.