The Things I See...

Last night we celebrated  the 70th Anniversary of the Centro Cultural Paraguayo Americano here in Ciudad del Este. 

 

In honor of Paraguayan women, on their day.

I am re posting this in honor of today's Paraguayan national Holiday. It is the Day of the Paraguayan Woman.

This year Jayde tied for  first place in an international folkloric competition held annually here in Paraguay.

Winning Female Soloist ~Festival del Takuare'e de Guarambaré

The Things I See...

 

Doing what she does best!

Look at what we discovered in the news paper?

The Marine Corps Birthday Ball ~ Asuncion, Paraguay

Last week the USMC celebrated their 236th birthday. Marines all across the world gather together to celebrate, whether it be a simple cake or a gala event, the day is celebrated. This year my husband escorted our youngest daughter to the Marine Corps Birthday Ball held here in Paraguay. As the great grand daughter of a Marine, the grand daughter of a Marine, and the daughter of a Marine, it was a great honor for her to be invited to sing the Star Spangled Banner during the ceremony.

She had not been informed that she would indeed be singing until arriving. Gunny Ho heard that she was a singer and of her Marine heritage and told her she would be singing.Then he told her to sing all four verses! And when Gunny tells you to do something...you do it! She did a great job and felt honored to be asked.

She loves her daddy!

 

Its all about the accessories!

Jayde has her own idea of accessorizing!

A few good men ready to defend and protect!

 

 

 

 

First line of defense.

She did it!

This week end Jayde tied for  first place in an international folkloric competition held annually here in Paraguay.

Winning Female Soloist ~Festival del Takuare'e de Guarambaré

Cantando por un Sueño

It was a late night, but it was worth it. Jayde Louisa Vernoy Riffe classified (top two overall) to be able to go and compete in the INTERNATIONAL singing competition in Guarambaré next month!

The Things I See...

My youngest daughter singing a solo in her school musical last week. She was great!

7 years ago...

Seven years ago I was in Costa Rica with Jackie after here cesarean delivery of Elena, everyone was celebrating Columbus Day when EL Comandante changed our lives by making his famous speech on TV telling us all to "pack our bags and leave the jungle".

We managed to stay on for several months until the legal battles became too expensive for us and our plane was impounded and nearly expropriated. By God's grace, Clint managed to get it flown out to Trinidad on Father's Day 2006. Long story!

Here is a poem my youngest daughter wrote at the time. 

"Under my Thatch Roof"
By Jayde Vernoy (2006)

I lay in silence,
Unable to sleep,
We'd move to the city,
so soon each day I'd weep.

President Chavez had said,
Right on TV,
That he didn't want to see in the jungle,
One missionary.

I felt like crying,
when he said those words.
I felt like I was being stabbed,
by a thousand swords.

I loved our home,
I loved it there,
how could Chavez say that?
It just wasnt fair.

So we packed a bunch of things,
some were old,some were new,
but when we boxed it all up,
we could only take a few.

"Plane Day" came,
and we all climbed inside the plane.
I did not like it.
I thought it was insane.

One last look,
At the Indian's lined up,to say goodbye,
It hurt me so much,
I thought I would die.

But here I am now,
One year later,
getting used to a new life
And no longer eating gator.

Happy Birthday, Paraguay !

Today Paraguay is celebrating Independence Day.

This is the winning logo Jayde designed for her school contest. She will be marching in the parade today, carrying a banner, with the logo, at the front of her school.

Viva Paraguay

The Things I See...

My daughter at her piano recital.

Wicked Awesome!

My youngest  daughter recently attended a Retro  80's Youth Group Party. We had fun getting her ready. It brought back so many memories of my own teen years.

It was totally rad!

We had no bangs to do the big bang thing with so we went with the big side pony tail!

And the blue eye shadow!

Valley Girl!

Jungle Mom, vintage photo @ 1981

Worms!

The following was written by my youngest daughter, Jayde.

Amazonian worms.

The earliest memory I can recall clearly is eating worms instead of my mom's chocolate chip cookies. I may have been crazy, or simply craving worms. I don't know. But they were smoked, and they were very tasty. They taste a lot like beef jerky only a little bit more...um...wiggly. Plus, they are long. About a foot long. Let's just say that they are like Slim Jims. Only living.

They are much tastier when they are cooked, as are most foods. But, eating them live and raw can gross out any tourists or city-folk and it is fun. I used to snack on them like potato chips. I prefer them over potato chips.

Anyways, I'm guessing myself to be about five to six years old, and obviously, I was hungry. I was growing anyway, and I needed something to hold me over until Mom finished making lunch.
"Mama." I said, and looked up at her as she stirred the pot...Or cut the vegetables...Or baked or whatever she was doing. And she looked down at me.
"What?"
"I'm hungry." As I said this, I rubbed my tummy.

Mom told me to go look in the fridge, as there was something to snack on. "Go look."
I walked over, and opened the fridge. Inside was a wild array of meat, fish that the Indians had brought, baby veggies, leftovers and...Worms. I dug in for the worms. I took them out, and carried them up to the loft while I played.

As soon as the Ziploc was empty, I quietly slipped back down the ladder, and threw the bag in the sink as Mom had always instructed me to do, because 'those magical bags didn't grow on trees'. I found this odd, because, to me, everything grew on trees. Fruits, vegetables, and I thought birds grew on trees. And the fact that they were magical meant they had to be cleaned every day, to be used again. And then stuck against the window when wet, to dry.
Anyway, once I threw it in the sink, I looked over and saw Mom leaning into the fridge. (I remember this clearly).

I went over and asked what she was doing. Mom stood back up, and said, " Where are they!?!?! They're--They're---They're GONE! What happened? Do you know??" She asked me.
I shook my head. Then Mom saw me. And looked in the sink.
"Did you eat the worms??"
I nodded. "You said there was a snack in the fridge."
"But--Those were for your cousins for when we see them next week. Oh...I was gonna surprise them!..." Mom looked so sad. So I looked at her, smiled and said,
"They wouldn't like them anyway. They would think that they were gross. So I eated them."
"I'm sure you did."

Turns out, she had meant the chocolate chip cookies when she said a snack. Who knew?

Jayde 'helps' her dad while a friend gets stitches.

Five Years Ago Today

"Under my Thatch Roof"
By Jayde Vernoy (2006)

I lay in silence,
Unable to sleep,
We'd move to the city,
so soon each day I'd weep.

President Chavez had said,
Right on TV,
That he didn't want to see in the jungle,
One missionary.

I felt like crying,
when he said those words.
I felt like I was being stabbed,
by a thousand swords.

I loved our home,
I loved it there,
how could Chavez say that?
It just wasnt fair.

So we packed a bunch of things,
some were old,some were new,
but when we boxed it all up,
we could only take a few.

"Plane Day" came,
and we all climbed inside the plane.
I did not like it.
I thought it was insane.

One last look,
At the Indian's lined up,to say goodbye,
It hurt me so much,
I thought I would die.

But here I am now,
One year later,
getting used to a new life
And no longer eating gator.

Niguas/Shichas

(The following was written by my youngest daughter Jayde.

Let me just warn you that she is quite the character!)


Shichas. They are horrible little creatures, and I haven't the faintest idea why God invented them but He must have had a reason.


These little shichas were little tiny flea-like bugs that lived in dirt and would climb into your foot and make a nest of baby shichas IN YOUR FOOT. The only way to get rid of one, was to poke it out with a needle. This, as you can probably imagine, hurt. And the fact that I ran around bare-foot, made me come home with little nature presents in my feet nearly every day.


Mom was the shicha remover. She was the mom, thus, she had needles and therefore, was the one who dealt with the problem. She would await us in the room, like she wasn't happy to have the privilege of holding our jungle feet and picking disgusting shichas out of our foot. What an honor! I can't imagine why she wouldn't be thrilled...


It would start with HER. Spotting us limping as casually as we could manage, (which wasn't very discreet.) The shichas ITCHED LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE while they were in your foot. They squirmed around and built nests all inside your foot. So, trying to walk in a casual manner was NOT as easy as it may sound.


We weren't overjoyed to have someone pick at our feet. It hurt and tickled at the same time, if you can imagine that. Dad was the funniest whenever he had a shicha in his foot. It was family-time. We'd all gather around as Mom prepared the foot. She would place it on her lap, needle in hand, and one of us kids holding the Somergan lotion. Somergan would kill the little devil, hiding in our foot. Mostly what mom would do was poke a big hole and DOUSE the fellow with Somergan.


Dad would sit there. Holding on to something. Usually he clutched the chair so hard that we all feared it might fall apart.

"Ready?" Mom would ask.

"Uh-huh..."

"OOkaay.." And with that, she could pierce the needle into my Dad's foot and--

"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OUCH OUCH OUCH!" He would yelp, and he would move, and Mom had to point out that if he moved again, it would hurt him even more.


Dad sat still for maybe two more minutes as Mom poked and prodded around in his foot. If he had a nest in his foot this process could take hours. We would beg Mom to leave it alive.


We kids were evil to them. Once we took them out, we'd steal Mom's needle, the Somergan, the matches and begin the torture. We hated shichas. They made us look like idiots for scratching our feet during Sunday service. It was FINE if the Indians did it, but if we did it, Mom would take us out of church and home and then pick it out and we'd go back to church feeling relieved.


One night, we had an experiment. We wanted to see just how tough Demon, (that's what we named it) was. We filled a cup with water. He swam around. He was smaller than a flea. Then he JUMPED out of the cup and we dashed for him. We didn't want to kill it, because we weren't done playing with it yet. Josh finally caught him, digging into our cat's tail. The cat took care of it, and then my brother Josh pried it away from Maxine. He held it in a napkin.


Next we burned it. Over the gas stove, we speared it with the needle and roasted him like a marshmallow. Only...we didn't eat it.


We tried soaking it in a bowl of Somergan, and we tried to flush it down the toilet. The toilet worked, and we had to go to bed.


The next day, someone, I won't say who, used the restroom and ...well...we'll leave it at that.


We enjoyed shichas. Part of life. And we dealt with them appropriately and enthusiastically!

The Things I See...

Color in Nature

All photos were taken by my youngest daughter.
Verja's Photography

I bet you have never seen this before....

Walking a turtle on a leash!

In the jungle Jayde had pet turtles. This one is Franklin. He was not named for the cartoon character Franklin the Turtle, but rather President Franklin Roosevelt. We were studying FDR in history class at the time and this turtle had a bum leg for awhile.

Franklin and Jayde went everywhere together.
Quite a sight!

Niguas / Shichas

(The following was written by my youngest daughter Jayde.
Let me just warn you that she is quite the character!)

Shichas. They are horrible little creatures, and I haven't the faintest idea why God invented them but He must have had a reason.

These little shichas were little tiny flea-like bugs that lived in dirt and would climb into your foot and make a nest of baby shichas IN YOUR FOOT. The only way to get rid of one, was to poke it out with a needle. This, as you can probably imagine, hurt. And the fact that I ran around bare-foot, made me come home with little nature presents in my feet nearly every day.

Mom was the shicha remover. She was the mom, thus, she had needles and therefore, was the one who dealt with the problem. She would await us in the room, like she wasn't happy to have the privilege of holding our jungle feet and picking disgusting shichas out of our foot. What an honor! I can't imagine why she wouldn't be thrilled...

It would start with HER. Spotting us limping as casually as we could manage, (which wasn't very discreet.) The shichas ITCHED LIKE YOU WOULDN'T BELIEVE while they were in your foot. They squirmed around and built nests all inside your foot. So, trying to walk in a casual manner was NOT as easy as it may sound.

We weren't overjoyed to have someone pick at our feet. It hurt and tickled at the same time, if you can imagine that. Dad was the funniest whenever he had a shicha in his foot. It was family-time. We'd all gather around as Mom prepared the foot. She would place it on her lap, needle in hand, and one of us kids holding the Somergan lotion. Somergan would kill the little devil, hiding in our foot. Mostly what mom would do was poke a big hole and DOUSE the fellow with Somergan.

Dad would sit there. Holding on to something. Usually he clutched the chair so hard that we all feared it might fall apart.
"Ready?" Mom would ask.
"Uh-huh..."
"OOkaay.." And with that, she could pierce the needle into my Dad's foot and--
"YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! OUCH OUCH OUCH!" He would yelp, and he would move, and Mom had to point out that if he moved again, it would hurt him even more.

Dad sat still for maybe two more minutes as Mom poked and prodded around in his foot. If he had a nest in his foot this process could take hours. We would beg Mom to leave it alive.

We kids were evil to them. Once we took them out, we'd steal Mom's needle, the Somergan, the matches and begin the torture. We hated shichas. They made us look like idiots for scratching our feet during Sunday service. It was FINE if the Indians did it, but if we did it, Mom would take us out of church and home and then pick it out and we'd go back to church feeling relieved.

One night, we had an experiment. We wanted to see just how tough Demon, (that's what we named it) was. We filled a cup with water. He swam around. He was smaller than a flea. Then he JUMPED out of the cup and we dashed for him. We didn't want to kill it, because we weren't done playing with it yet. Josh finally caught him, digging into our cat's tail. The cat took care of it, and then my brother Josh pried it away from Maxine. He held it in a napkin.

Next we burned it. Over the gas stove, we speared it with the needle and roasted him like a marshmallow. Only...we didn't eat it.

We tried soaking it in a bowl of Somergan, and we tried to flush it down the toilet. The toilet worked, and we had to go to bed.

The next day, someone, I won't say who, used the restroom and ...well...we'll leave it at that.

We enjoyed shichas. Part of life. And we dealt with them appropriately and enthusiastically!

Worms!

The following was written by my youngest daughter, Jayde.

Amazonian worms.

The earliest memory I can recall clearly is eating worms instead of my mom's chocolate chip cookies. I may have been crazy, or simply craving worms. I don't know. But they were smoked, and they were very tasty. They taste a lot like beef jerky only a little bit more...um...wiggly. Plus, they are long. About a foot long. Let's just say that they are like Slim Jims. Only living.

They are much tastier when they are cooked, as are most foods. But, eating them live and raw can gross out any tourists or city-folk and it is fun. I used to snack on them like potato chips. I prefer them over potato chips.

Anyways, I'm guessing myself to be about five to six years old, and obviously, I was hungry. I was growing anyway, and I needed something to hold me over until Mom finished making lunch.
"Mama." I said, and looked up at her as she stirred the pot...Or cut the vegetables...Or baked or whatever she was doing. And she looked down at me.
"What?"
"I'm hungry." As I said this, I rubbed my tummy.

Mom told me to go look in the fridge, as there was something to snack on. "Go look."
I walked over, and opened the fridge. Inside was a wild array of meat, fish that the Indians had brought, baby veggies, leftovers and...Worms. I dug in for the worms. I took them out, and carried them up to the loft while I played.

As soon as the Ziploc was empty, I quietly slipped back down the ladder, and threw the bag in the sink as Mom had always instructed me to do, because 'those magical bags didn't grow on trees'. I found this odd, because, to me, everything grew on trees. Fruits, vegetables, and I thought birds grew on trees. And the fact that they were magical meant they had to be cleaned every day, to be used again. And then stuck against the window when wet, to dry.
Anyway, once I threw it in the sink, I looked over and saw Mom leaning into the fridge. (I remember this clearly).

I went over and asked what she was doing. Mom stood back up, and said, " Where are they!?!?! They're--They're---They're GONE! What happened? Do you know??" She asked me.
I shook my head. Then Mom saw me. And looked in the sink.
"Did you eat the worms??"
I nodded. "You said there was a snack in the fridge."
"But--Those were for your cousins for when we see them next week. Oh...I was gonna surprise them!..." Mom looked so sad. So I looked at her, smiled and said,
"They wouldn't like them anyway. They would think that they were gross. So I eated them."
"I'm sure you did."

Turns out, she had meant the chocolate chip cookies when she said a snack. Who knew?

Jayde 'helps' her dad while a friend gets stitches.