Languages, languages...

"Monolingualism CAN be cured!"

That slogan graced the classroom of one of my high school French teachers. I always liked the poster -- it was easy for me to be smug since I already knew Low German, German, and English -- but only in Paraguay have I realized what a strange North American phenomenon monolingualism actually is.

Pretty much everyone here speaks at least two languages. For most of the population, that means Spanish and Guaraní. For the colony Mennonites, it means German and Plautdietsch (which may or may not be considered different languages -- I argue that they are) and Spanish. In addition to these, there are a considerable number of Asian languages spoken in parts of Paraguay; one prime example is the Japanese colonies in the eastern part of the country. In regions near the Brazilian border, of course, there are a lot of people who speak Portuguese. There seems to be a widespread desire for English-language training because of the economic opportunities that knowing English brings, and this is reflected in the public school curriculum.

There is so much to say about being surrounded by all this language that I hardly know where to begin.

Let me make the observation, first of all, that it is wonderful to be so well understood. In a number of the places that our group finds itself, there are people present who speak Spanish AND English AND German... If we find ourselves at a loss for words in Spanish, we can resort to explaining ourselves in another language and the conversation flows on virtually uninterrupted. Just today at lunch, I was conversing in Spanish at a table at CEMTA (the Mennonite seminary here -- a lot like CMU, except culturally modified). When the fact that I knew German was brought up, the conversation switched to German, except for one girl who understood perfectly but always spoke in Spanish. The conversation flowed like this with no difficulty for anyone! It´s wonderful.

I am still waiting for a chance to converse with someone here in French, but I am sure the opportunity will arise. It did last year! At the moment, the French language is pretty much my best friend, since the grammatical structures and many words are so similar to those of Spanish. This is making it possible for me to learn Castellano (Spanish) much more quickly than I could have otherwise. The Spanish language is very intuitive and logical, and the more I learn Spanish, the more I wonder why English -- which is, let´s admit it, a ridiculously illogical and irregular language -- is becoming a global language. Spanish is far easier to learn!

The second thing I really want to say is that I love and am fascinated by the fact that, in Paraguayan culture, the indigenous language of Guaraní is absolutely pervasive. It seems so entirely normal here, that it makes me wonder why the notion of widely using an Aboriginal language seems so strange in Canada. To be honest, I am really starting to want to learn Guaraní. At the very least, I will collect a wide assortment of phrases and words that pepper the daily use of Spanish within families and among friends in Paraguay. Furthermore, I am beginning to think seriously about learning Cree when I get back to Canada.

We English teachers-to-be received a brief article the other day (check it out at http://www.mwc-cmm.org/en/index.php?option=com_content&task=view&id=186&Itemid=108) outlining the eight languages of translation at next year´s Mennonite World Conference assembly. The languages are as follows: Spanish, English, Guaraní, Enlhet, Nivaclé, German, French, and Portuguese. THREE of those are local indigenous languages!!! Perhaps the fact that I find this so exciting and unusual reflects my own country´s marginalization and neglect of our indigenous languages and cultures. I am rather under-exposed to this sort of thing. It is delightful for me to be in a place where being rooted in indigenous culture and language is not a matter of shame, but rather cause for pride.

Meeting youngsters who are fluent in two or more languages, young adults who are working on their fourth or fifth language, and older adults who are determined to learn English to complement their Spanish and Guaraní, is inspiring. The enthusiasm and language-learning efforts of the people here are humbling. Not only that, but their generous spirit makes it easy to want to join them in this quest for even greater communication ability. In theory, I suppose, my "joining in" is supposed to take the form of me teaching, and to some extent it will. But what I really want is to learn.

This hunger for learning, I think, is precisely the cure for the monolingualism found in many parts of North America. Hopefully, it is also the start of a cure for our underlying arrogance.

In a Groove

I think I have found my perfect daily rhythm.

I wake up early, because when it´s bright out my body just does that. I go sit out front with Maria (the house mother) and her husband Secundido or one of their daughters, and start the day with some mate.

Breakfast is around 8:00, followed by a family devotional time, and then the morning´s activities follow. Usually this is some form of Spanish lessons, learning about the culture, or visiting places in Asunción. High stress to-do lists are unheard of here, so far.

Lunch is the big meal of the day. Maria spends much of the morning preparing it, and it is invariably delicious.

After lunch, I check e-mail or read or journal for an hour, or else trade backrubs with Krista. Then, once my lunch has settled in my stomach, I crawl into bed for a two-hour or so nap. Whenever I happen to wake up is when I get up. It´s a beautiful thing.

There are always young people from the church stopping by here, so we chat it up and drink tereré, and sometimes head over to the church (super close) to play some soccer and volleyball. Supper is around 7:30 or 8:00, and then the evening is open for socializing or studying or whatever else until 10:30 or 11:00, at which time we generally go to bed.

Our days are not super-structured so far, and at times we North Americans feel like we are being lazy. The main demand on us right now is to learn Spanish, and that we are doing. It can be exhausting mental work some days! So instead of feeling guilty about not technically accomplishing much with my days, which would be a very North American thing to do, I am savouring these relaxed days.

I feel welcome here. I love the culture, which is laid-back and very relationship-oriented. Being lonely is impossible, especially since there is internet access in the house, so we can e-mail and Skype home freely. The people from this Mennonite church are super-friendly and inclusive, and that helps make this place feel like a home for me.

The heat may take some getting used to... but I think my body has found its happy place.

First Days in Asuncion!

¡Hola amigos!

The Paraguay team, myself included, has arrived safe and sound in Paraguay. Even our luggage made it here at the same time as us -- we were thrilled!

In an odd way, it is like a kind of homecoming for me to be back here. I was overwhelmed on the drive from the airport to this house, by the sense of familiarity, by the flood of positive memories from when I was in Asunción last, and by the feeling of being so lucky to get to be here and do this for ten months.

What is the "this" that I am doing, anyway? In case any of my readers is not sure, let me quickly explain. In preparation for Mennonite World Conference 2009, the Spanish-language Mennonite conference (CONEMPAR) has invited six North American young adults to come and teach English to people who will be volunteering at World Conference. This is one of the many ways they are preparing, together with the Indigneous and German-language Mennonites, to host World Conference in the most hospitable way possible.

For this first month, all six of us English teachers are in Asunción, learning Spanish and learning how to teach English. My host family consists of parents Maria and Secundido, and their daughters Laura, Diana, and Achi. Most of the group downtime so far happens here at this house, and the family is being super-hospitable. I am most grateful for their friendliness, concern, and generous spirit. They are doing everything possible to help us learn Spanish and to ease our anxieties about the coming year in whatever ways they can. One important aspect of this is giving us as much information as we want about the host families we will be living with later, how to use the bus system, the currency, safety issues in the neighbourhood, food and culture, etc. In some ways we felt really short of details coming here, so it is wonderful having Maria and Laura in particular tell us everything we want to know! North Americans, after all, thrive on information!!!

Relations between the Mennonite conferences that are based in different ethnicities can be a delicate subject here in Paraguay, and I was a little concerned about how my colony Mennonite heritage might affect the way I integrate here. However, for better or worse, the fact of my parents´ colony origin came up yesterday. It is a relief not to worry about how discreet to be about that anymore. I intend to make every effort to be fully a part of the Spanish-language churches here, but the fact remains that I am who I am, and furthermore that I would like to visit my relatives in the Chaco while I am here.

What else can I tell you all? There is so much to say. Yesterday morning started with some mate with my host mother and sister, and then we walked through the yard looking at the various plant: banana trees, guava (from which we harvested fruit), little tomatoes, and some interesting herbs and medicinal plants I´ve never seen before. Going inside, we made cocido as part of our breakfast preparations. You boil a liter of water in a kettle. Once it is nearly hot, put three heaping spoonfuls of yerba into a pot and add a little sugar -- maybe a teaspoon. Put that on the hot stove and swish it around occasionally, so it gets just a smidge burnt. After about a minute of this, add the boiling water. Let it boil for about three minutes, until it is nice and foamy (with green foam!). Then turn off the heat, adding a half cup or so of cold water to help the yerba settle on the bottom of the pot. Wait for several minutes until it is pretty settled. Then pour the drink through a fine strainer into a thermos to keep it hot. Pour some into a mug, adding milk and sugar, and enjoy! It is a bit like a very strong rooibos tea. I like it!

After breakfast (which involved homemade guava jam, which I love), Maria and I went out to the backyard to unearth some mandioca that was buried in the reddish sandy soil. My hands got all orange -- it was delightful! She prepared them for consumption at lunch, while Becca and Laura and I walked to the Supermercado España to get a few groceries. The living of day-to-day life is what makes a place for me, and so far I love living here.

A horse pulling some kind of cart clip-clops by around 5:30 in the morning outside my and Becca´s window. Motorcycles are a common mode of transportation, even for couples with a tiny baby. There are mangos growing in Craig and Krista´s front yard, and bananas in the yard of the church where Scott and Tyler are staying down the street. People visit us often, doing everything possible to make us feel welcome, and we do. We bust out the guampa and water all the time. I am trying to partake often, but not so often that my digestive system declares mutiny. That happened last time I was in Paraguay, and I would rather not repeat the experience. :)

My host mother just pulled me outside to look at some birds native to this area, eating bread in the yard. My understanding of "normal" -- normal trees, normal streets, normal social customs, normal food, normal sleep patterns, normal fauna, normal places to see cows -- is going to undergo a bit of a shift this year. And I love it! What an adventure is beginning here. Thank you for reading about it and in this way sharing these experiences with me. Thank you also for your support, from at home and abroad. It is good to know there is a network of people who are interested, who care, and who pray for me. Blessings to you all!

En amistad,
Dorotéa