the monks know how to throw a party

I´m going to try to write this blog over the awful music blasting so loud that the bass is making the computer shake from the bar across the street. It´s 9:00am on Saturday morning and the bars in Caazapa are still packed with people partying from the night before. I´ve been here since Thursday, and the place is insanity. Apparently, this is the anniversary of when the monks came to caapzapa way back in the day and found water in time of drought. The Paraguayans celebrate for weeks, but this weekend is the big weekend and its pretty nuts. Theres stuff all over the city including an expo, concerts, a carnival, and of course people getting wasted all day and night at bars. I´m an old lady and a wussy and was unable to drink or party during my time here. I spent the last two days with a massive headache and super dehydrated searching for a place to sleep. The first night I was able to stay in a hotel, but last night a group of us were sleeping on another volunteers tile floor because everything was booked for the weekend.
I hope what I´m writing is making sense. I haven´t slept in two days, and trying to type with the techno version of ¨me vuelvo loco tu tatu (your vagina drives me crazy,¨ blasting in the background is making it very difficult to think.
If you ever want a good laugh, bring a paraguayan from deep in the campo on a ferris wheel. The ladies from my community were in Caazapa yesterday morning selling their mandioca, so Lauren and I decided to convince my neighbor and her daughter to come on the ferris wheel with us. I went on with my neighbor Maria, and the whole time she was laughing her ass off while screaming ¨sarita you are crazy! your making my crazy! This is crazy! Im going to throw up! Get me off! This is so fun! Im scared! Im not scared anymore! Sarita loco! We are crazy!¨It was a lot of fun, and something that my neighbors will never forget. They immediatly went over to brag to all their mandioca buddies that they rode the giant wheel. Everyone thought they were crazy. I think paraguayans just like using the word crazy. I find myself calling paraguayans and myself crazy multiple times a day in conversation.
Well off to the market to stock up on veggies to last me until my trip to Villarica to celebrate Carnival (South Americas mardi gras) feb. 2nd. Until then, I´ll be sitting in front of my fan sweating my ass off in the campo. Think of me while you are roasting marshmellows, taking hots showers, using toilets and microwaves, and eating sushi.