Chicken Assasins. Word.

Kai Pyrahe, Mandioca smuggling, and a touch of emotion

Been a while since my last entry, eh? It may be that I have run out of exciting stories to tell. Maybe they sound exciting to you, but to you they have become routine. My life. My life that will be over in 2.5 months and then it´s back to America to start all over again. I was told that once we go back, we must now get used to not really knowing how to function in American society anymore. We must adjust to never feeling like we will ever fit back into that jigsaw puzzle because for the last two years I have been learning how to fit myself comfortably into a completely different, one of a kind puzzle that can´t be replicated. Maybe us former peace corp volunteers should start our own colony like the lepers. I had a small preview this august when I went home for three weeks and felt like a total alien. Like a tourist on vacation in some foriegn country. Don´t get me wrong, I had a great time. I love my friends and my family and I especially missed driving my car and drinking good beer. It´s just culture shock in its rarest form. Culture shock in the country that I have spent 23 years of my 25 year life. I guess I am angry though. I mean, how can they (who is they anyway, relaly?) expect us to come here for 2 years, establish a new life, build a home, a new family, new close friends, and then we have to just leave it all and what, forget about it? That seems like the easiest thing to do. I am trying not to think anout leaving, but it´s hard not to when it´s just around the corner. I can´t look at my neighbor, Maria without getting nautious knowing that in 2 months the family I have spent everyday with for the last 2 years will be completely erased from my life. Unless I come back here I will never see them again. But I plan on comming back for a visit. Who knows when, but my pops wants to come with me so I am sure we will arrange something.

Anyways, on a lighter note, I had my first Pombero encounter last night (you know, the short little troll looking mythological paraguayan creature in the loin cloth who likes to mess with us and scare us, but I am pretty sure that he is harmless. He will supposedly leave you alone if you leave him liquor and cigarettes in your oven. Kind of like a twisted santa claus). Well, it all started when I was reading in bed (Absurdistan, I recommend reading it) and I heard my wire fence making a commotion and then something ran across my porch and through my yard. I´m convinced it was a large dog. Then around 10:00pm I began receiving a series of texts from the neighbor boy who lives next door in grandma´s old house. He is 21. This is what they said:

9:58pm Him- Sara, I am really scared, the pombero is after me right now and I can´t sleep. He threw an apepu (orange sized, kumquat tasting, fruit) at me. I am really scared.

10:03pm Him- Sara, the pombero is after me and I am really scared. He threw an apepu at me and I´m frightened and this is serious.

10:07pm Him- If you don´t believe me, go outside and you will hear the noise that he is making on the wire fence and he threw an apepu at me.

10:09pm Call- Sara please answer my texts (hangs up)

10:10pm Me- What do you want me to do? I am sleeping and I don´t hear anything

10:14pm Him- I only wanted to tell you that the pombero was after me. He came into my house and threw my notebook, my clothes, and my radio and I am very frightened truthfully. Thank you for responding to my message

I am convinced that is was the ghost of grandma screwing with him because she was always awesome like that. Needless to say, I didn´t sleep that well, especially when the power went out shortly after and I was left in the pitch black to comvince myself that I don´t believe in mythilogical creatures and that there isn´t one at my neighbors right now, and that I didn´t have to pee because I was too scared to get out of bed. I felt like a little kid again.

Well, the mandioca truck was packed to the brim this morning with mandioca and passengers. We were packed like sardines, on top of so much mandioca that our heads were almost touching the roof (at least mine almost was, but I am the abnormally ¨gigante¨american so that doesn´t say to much). Anyway, I wish I took a picture because we looked like a bunch of illegal immigrants trying to cross the border, while smuggling a ton of yuca in the process.