Pools in the barrio streets
Today was the first work in Santa Ana, The strangest part about the barrios (Santa Ana, San Blas, Santa Rose, and Divina Niño) are the streets. The river that borders Asunción flows over into creeks and marshy ponds and in many places into the streets themselves. They are riddled with full gutters and puddles that span the width of the road in some places. People drive their motorcycles or horse carts through, but the walkers (like us) have to pick a careful path along sidewalks and occasional stepping stones. Also, it is very common to run into animals along the street- usually chickens and dogs, but horses, pigs, and cows, too. In places, Santa Ana resebles a photo of an American town after a hurricane complete with debris, as the river carries the trash littering the streets to collect in gutters and streams.
Walking in the barrio
The houses are very different; some are bits of corregated tin and plywood held together tenuously. Others are slightly cramped sort of smallish houses mirroring Carapeguá, only a bit more squished. However, some houses are larger, fenced in with gardens and livestock and an air of sprawl.
A stream in the barrio
The health group hiked around Santa Rosa for awhile, visiting 2 of the 6 houses in the area to which we will return several times over the week. The first was empty and partially collapsed; in the second, we found the elderly man who lived there. He told us that he hadn’t eaten in almost a week. One of our group leaders, a girl who lived nearby, later told us she would bring him something at the end of the day.
Making friends
I ate lunch with a girl who lived in Santa Ana only a few blocks from the community center. The soup (soyo) was delicious, but I still felt my lack of Spanish skill as I tried to offer a little conversation. I was dreading awkwardness that would ensue when my Spanish ran out, when another girl from Santa Ana and her American LSP guest showed up. Lucia, my Santa Ana host, Cecilia, my hose sister from San José, Zoe, her Santa Ana hose, and I watched the first part of the movie Twighlight together. Zoe and I tried to piece together Spanish explanations of the movie and we compared our crushes to Edward Cullen, the movie’s star. The five of us, laughing the way we were, could have been on any couch in any living room in the United States. It was so universal, the girl talk, the laughter, and the movie, that our vastly different backgrounds just sort of didn’t matter.
Nicole, a student at Woodrow Wilson Senior High School