A trip down memory lane

See description of this photo below...

Here I am with my host family in Santa Rosa, Misiones. I stayed with them during my Long Field Practice where we visited Shawn, another municipal services volunteer. Ignacio, at the far right, was a beekeeper and still makes honey occasionally. I was lucky enough to have honey every morning with my bread and coffee. At the end of the week, they gave me a container of honey to take with me. Above is a photo of what the honey looked like every morning on the kitchen table.

These are the church bells in the Jesuit ruins. Below you will see a photo of me standing in front of the church. (I still haven't figured out how to type text next to the corresponding photo...this blog format seems out of wack to me.)

This photo was taken in Santa Rosa, Misiones during the below described Long Field Practice. We were planting flowers and had to cut all of the "maleza" with machetes. This is me posing. Don't worry, I did no one harm. On a more somber note, ever since I read We Wish to Inform You That Tomorrow You Will Be Killed with Your Families freshman year of college, machetes always make me think of the genocide in Rwanda. Thank God that here in Paraguay machetes are not used for violence but rather for everyday yard tasks like cutting bamboo to make fences, gardening, etc.

In my normal fashion, I am posting photos in no particular chronological order. This photo is from my Long Field Practice back in the middle of July in Santa Rosa, Department Misiones. On the left is Shawn, the volunteer who we visited to learn what it's like being a municipal services volunteer before committing to stay here for two years at our swear-in ceremony.

There were only four of us that went to visit Shawn, unless you count the language teacher from our training center who also attended to teach us a few things so we wouldn't get behind in our Guarani while we were in Santa Rosa for a week.

Most of the week we cleaned this soccer/basketball court and then painted the lines with paint that the muni gave to the basketball club that is a recognized commission of the muni. One cannot get supplies from the muni for their projects unless they are officially recognized.

After painting the lines and cleaning the court, we had a basketball tournament. To my surprise there was a team from San Ignacio that showed up that consisted of all guys in their early to late 20s. Us Peace Corps trainees tried to stand our ground but without much luck. I'm not one to brag, but I definitely impressed a lot of those guys with my sweet basketball skills--hardly any guys in Paraguay play basketball to begin with, so when a girl knows how to play, they are shocked. One guy was trying to flirt aka hinchar in Paraguayan lingo with me. He was guarding me and kept saying, "What is your name, I love you," with his accent, ha ha. I just said to him, "Do you want to play or do you want to talk?" and then I scored one right in his face. It felt pretty good.