This past weekend, I moved into my very first (rental) house! I have never even rented an apartment, and now I’m living alone in a HOUSE. I’m feeling pretty growed-up. I think I will begin describing myself as an “independent woman in her mid-twenties.”
My house has one big main room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. It is huge by many standards, especially for one person. It is also relatively chuchi (fancy) with a tile floor (much easier to clean than cement), modern bathroom (with an electric shower head to heat the water), glass windows, strong electricity, and a ceiling in the bedroom (a big plus for temperature regulation and dampening the sound of rain on a tin roof). It is definitely not the shack without water or electricity that I pictured when first thinking of joining the Peace Corps 10-15 years ago. Of course, the last few decades have seen a dramatic fall in extreme poverty around the world (yay!) so the profile of an average home probably has changed a bit in that time!
Having my own space has been relaxing and energizing and basically all-around awesome so far. I’ve baked bread and made a curry stir-fry and planted flowers and decorated the walls and listened to my own music (at a reasonable volume!) and slept when I wanted and walked around naked (though not in the main part of the house, since I don’t have curtains yet).
I have also had A LOT of visitors. Some volunteers talk about getting lonely living by themselves, or having a lot of time alone with their thoughts. I might get there some day, but for now living “alone” has not afforded me much alone time.
Within ten minutes of arriving in my new home, my next door neighbor and my host mom (each with a daughter) arrived to help me set up my appliances. Then the parade of neighborhood kids began. One morning, a total of 8 kids and 3 adults visited me, most of them before 9 am. The kids don’t bother announcing themselves before walking in the door. Some of them “helped” me clean and organize my stuff (in a way that made me need to do the same thing again after they left).
I mentioned setting my own sleep schedule. I should probably clarify that this does not mean other people are unaware of when I am asleep or awake. In Paraguay, if the weather isn’t bad and you are home, it is customary to open your windows and doors. You can be sure people will have – and share – their theories about what you are doing behind closed doors. Opening your house is also a sign that you will accept guests (probably offering them tereré), and it allows you to hear anyone who might clap at your front gate to announce their presence and ask for permission to enter.
The other day, I went outside to wash my dishes around 7:00 in the morning and my neighbor told me her 4-year-old daughter had been asking to go over to my house to play since I opened my window a half hour earlier.
“I told her you would want some alone time after waking up, but she told me you would cry if you were alone.”
Note: My kitchen sink is on the outside of my house (well, my kitchen tap/faucet… the sink part that catches the water is missing… also I don’t actually have a kitchen). From the tap, I am conversational distance from my next door neighbor’s own dish/clothes washing stations.
To somewhat curb the frequency of visitors, I have been trying to make myself as boring as possible from a kid’s perspective, but I’ve also used a few of their visits as teaching moments. Sunday morning, there was a partial solar eclipse while my 9 year old neighbor was at my house, so I poked a hole in a piece of cardboard and tried to show her how the the circle of light passing through this changed shape. On Monday, I planted a a bed of flowers in front of my house with three little assistants. These same kids helped me prepare my materials for a lesson on seeds that I was going to do in the school.
My neighbors are also sure to teach me a thing or two. My next door neighbor is an excellent source of information and has offered me the use of her laundry washing sink (I haven’t told her it will be the first load of laundry I do entirely by hand). I’ve also talked about some recipe exchanges with a 20-year-old girl across the street and with the 25-year-old mother of my most frequent 9-year-old visitor. This woman arrived in Paraguay from Brazil fairly recently and speaks very little Spanish, so it looks like I might need to learn a bit of Portuguese. Our conversations are somewhat of a guessing game, but we bonded over a mutual disappointment in the taste of Paraguayan birthday cake.
I’ve had quite a multi-cultural guest list this week. In addition to Paraguayans and Brazilians, two of my “North American” friends came to see my new digs the other night. One is a volunteer in a nearby community. His house is now only about a kilometer from mine and right next to my primary grocery source, so I’m sure to visit him and his girlfriend frequently (and am looking forward to meeting their new baby in a month or so!). The other friend is temporarily farming his father’s land in an Amish colony nearby. (I was told to include in my blog a mention of a fancy meat buffet he generously treated us to the other day. So ya, we went to a fancy meat buffet restaurant that is beyond our Peace Corps budget. I then got locked out of my host family’s house because we got back around midnight, which made me feel a bit too much like the rebellious teenager I never was.) Also, shout-out to these two guys for fixing my toilet the other night. It might have ruined my do-it-myself reputation, but what is an independent woman in her mid-twenties supposed to do when faced with an absurdly high toilet tank and no step ladder?
In addition to human visitors, my house and yard are hosts to many non-human occupants. My favorite are the fireflies that fill the yard at night and the single giant purple dragonfly that hovered near my door once. When I first moved in, I had to clean up after some birds, lizards, and countless bug species who were living inside the house (really, an entomologist would have a field day here!). My kitten is a big fan of the new environment since he has plenty of critters to chase. The giant toads outside are also lots of fun. Not as fun are the 6+ dogs who use my yard as their playground/bathroom/nap place. One of them picked up poor Rutherford by the neck the other day and I had trouble getting el Presidente to go outside for at least a day afterwards. I now scare that dog away any time I see him. The other ones I let sleep on my porch when it rains.