Opa la Entrenamiento

08 December 2010:

Training has ended in a pretty unexpected way. We found out about a week in advance that swear in day was being moved back a day, to tomorrow (!!!!) and it will be in Spanish.

I don’t like to do a play by play of what has gone on, nor do I usually remember so much, but this last weekend of training happened to be pretty unusual, and I just can’t think of any better way to write about it.

Today is the official day commemorating the Virgin of Caacupe, the equivalent of the Guadalupe Virgin in Mexico. Many people pilgrimage to this small city to attend a massive mass and pray to the Barbie-look-a-like. Since swear in is but a day afterward, initial plans to walk the 10 hours from Typychaty to Caacupe in the middle of the night were thwarted. So while most had the first of many despedida parties in town, a fellow compatriot, his host family and I kind of took the pilgrimage. Well, we cheated in that we took a couple buses over 2 hours to get to a town called Ypacarai, so that we could walk just over three hours instead of ten.

I was expecting some kind of genuine religious and cultural experience, with people of all walks of life and ages making the long trek. The people walking were mostly teenagers and young adults, clearly in the best shape of their lives, without a family to have to tend to. We met up with the guys of this family I went with, sons about my age who walked the whole way. The basilica was closed, but there was a bar gate covering one of the huge doors so you couldn’t go in, but could view the virgin and pray to her from a distance. The family prayed for about 10 minutes, and I was in dire need to pee, so I left and looked for a place to relieve myself, while they prayed. It turned out that it was all the time they spent there, and didn’t wait for the church to open like I originally had thought. Afterward, we all, the host mother, her two sons, and random family friend guy, a young couple, and two of us volunteers went to a bar. While it rained, they all drank, and a few of us crashed out on the table. I was completely out, and just remember briefly waking up, observing that the one beer bottle at the end of the table multiplied to at least half a dozen, and completely crashed out again. At about 3 am we left, and the host mother went on a shopping spree to buy cheesy ceramic figures of dolls and a dog. We then waited for a bus to take us back. I also slept through the trip back, but did notice that the people we were with were obscenely rude and loud on the bus.

On Sunday, I returned at about 7am, slept all day through about 2pm. I noticed my family was unusually quiet and the home atmosphere made me feel restless. Shortly after I woke up, I left to watch a movie at a friend’s house, and took my time to hang out there. Now, my 90-year-old host father had a surgery a few weeks before, to implant some tube to his stomach as a way to feed him. He was bed-ridden afterward, lost more weight, and was slowly just battling more and more. I came back home after a few hours, to notice a few unusual details that amounted to a bad omen and I knew before I saw anyone.

The little store the family manages was closed, but the gate was open. When I left earlier, everything was closed and that was normal because it was Sunday siesta. As I approached the house, I noted the night nurse who’d visit almost nightly was walking out of the house, and this was just at dusk. Then I walked past the window of my host parents’ room, to hear my host mother sobbing. I knew my host father had shortly passed away. I had been told the day before that it seemed fluid was collecting in his pulmonary cavities, and he was just having the hardest time breathing. He had his last breath minutes before I arrived.

As soon as we exchanged hugs, and I tried to express my sympathy, we got to work cleaning out an adjacent room that nobody sleeps in but where everyone stores their clothes. The desk and a couple huge armoires were shoved into my room, and the empty room was scrubbed from ceiling to floor. I was amidst all this, confused but quietly helping, resisting the urge to ask what was going on. Within a couple hours, lots of people were showing up and a little altar kind of thing was set up in the room for the overnight vigil.

I was allowed to sleep, but because sleeping in a room adjacent to a vigil was something I wasn’t eager to include in my new experiences, I fled to a friend’s room where I comfortably slept on my Thermarest. We had to spend all day Monday in Asuncion for last minute logistics and issues in training, and I fortunately did not have to go home for lunch. The burial was that same day, which I’m not sure anymore if I’m relieved that I missed it or not, but I truly had no idea that it was shortly after the vigil. I did however, arrive for the last half of the last rosary of prayer thereafter, and soon everyone left.

Soon after, we had dinner, and I was trying to keep quiet though they talked a little about what they did and asked how my day was. My brother even cracked a couple of jokes over dinner, and we talked about how now host mom can be free to travel around the country and visit her kids, including myself. I didn’t know what to make of this, but I guess it’s just normal when you basically have been battling with the extremely poor health of a very old mad, and it all has come to an end.

Now that it’s a couple days since that’s happened, I can’t say that everything is nice and rosy colored at home, but the presence of my host sister, her family and brother who usually don’t visit this long is kind of uplifting everyone’s spirits, especially my host mother’s.

The rest of November

16 Noviembre 2010: Long Field Visit

We had a 5 day visit to a volunteer’s site last week, during which my birthday happened in the middle of. I don’t know if this makes sense as my English seems to have already suffered some repercussions from not being in an English speaking country.

The site was only a few hours away from the capital, Costa Alegre (but there’s not coast), in the picturesque department of Cordillera. The place was way far out rural. Though 15km from a town, Tobati, there was a public bus that passed through town only three times a week through its dirt roads. I stayed with a host family that spoke mostly Guarani. Four weeks of language training in the mornings did nothing for me except be able to say “What? Who? When? I don’t understand, Hello” and pick up on a few random words so I could try to put together what the family was saying. Though they were incredibly giving but humble, and simpatico (can’t think of what it translates to in English), they did not seem to understand how to try to communicate with a foreigner.

There was a six-year-old girl, Analia, who was eager and happy to have a different person around, sleeping in the same room with her and her 10-year-old brother. It was nice to have a kid around who was patient in explaining things in Guarani a bit slower, and with what fragmented Spanish she had learned. Through the week, she followed me closely, always wondering what I was doing when I was writing letters, reading, hanging out with another trainee who was staying with the neighbor, helped me carry my water bottle and books when we walked to have meetings and classes at the volunteer’s house (she followed me there too!). Analia never gave up the opportunity to look through my things whenever I was looking for something, or read my dictionary while I tried to study Guarani. I initially felt flattered that a kid took so much interest in having me around, and was impressed by her ability to read in Spanish and to simply charm by trying to do what I did. However, after just a few days of constantly being shadowed by her, I had one too many hugs while I was sitting, trying to read/write followed by her smashing her face against mine or whispering/spitting into my ear, and had enough.

This was just about when it was my birthday. I tried to not have my host family know, but they found out as one of the guys mentioned it while the girl was with us, and the volunteer we were visiting kind of freaked over it, and said it to the girl, who then told her whole family. For the day and half before it, she just couldn’t shut up about it being my birthday, and the whole family asked me a million times in case I wasn’t sure or had second thoughts about my birthday, or probably because I also tried to deny it, but they wouldn’t have it. I was asked what I wanted to do for my birthday, and replied I wanted to learn a bit oftraditional Paraguayan dance. So after a dinner of salty, grilled chicken, specially made for the trainee staying with the neighbors, and myself (I felt horribly guilty when I realized that they weren’t eating chicken because there wasn’t the kind of money to buy more or kill another chicken to feed the rest of the family), the few neighbor girls and Analialoudly played the traditional polka Paraguayan music, and taught me some semi waltz moves.

23 November 2010: Future home

Just got back from another 5-day visit. However, this one was from our future sites! Unless you google map it, it probably doesn’t make a difference where I say it is. I will nonetheless. TapytanguaGuazu, a very rural community about 10km from Acahay between Carapegua and La Colmena in departamentoParaguari. The whole town is sprawled out pretty wide, and there are no more than 70 families. I don’t know exactly how to gauge it yet, but though we were not at the edge, it took us half an hour to get to a neighbor who also wasn’t on one extreme end of town. I wouldn’t even call it a town. Most people don’t yet have running water, there is only an elementary school, and for many needs, one must to go to Acahay to get them. The bus transportation from Acahay only runs a few times a day, the last bus leaving at noon from Acahay to TapytanguaGuazu, so any grocery shopping must be done by then.

Apart from all that, it is absolutely gorgeous! It is in the transition zone from forest to grassland, so it is quite evident of the deforestation. Since it is located on this important transition zone, most has been deforested for firewood or use of land for animal husbandry. The only part left forested is on the cerro, a steep hill.

I’m still not sure what can be done, but at the same time, I’m excited for all the possibilities. The girl who worked there before me, has been welcomed by the elementary school, and has also received some funding from the Paraguayan government and help from a US organization called Friends of the Americas. They no longer burn their trash, so use an old dried up well as a perfect trash pit. The schoolteachers also seem to have adopted some more interactive teaching methods and use recycled things as didactic learning tools.However, there is a strong women’s group that she started, and made fogones in their houses (brick wood burning stove/oven with a chimney to send the smoke out of the room and also uses less wood).

30 November 2010: Sweet blood

I have nothing much new to say that is worth sharing or remembering. I have just been training more, learning Guarani, learning about trees, N-fixing plants to improve soil, gardening, etc. There were some quick workshops on what to turn to when and how to… build latrines and fogones, teach hygiene and nutrition, etc, but it was all too rushed. Otherwise, we tend to hang out and have the same kind of conversations of college but some of the experiences just happen to involve more Paraguayan and developing world situations, such as chivivi (diarrhea), bowel movements in general, using latrines, funny misunderstandings in living with local families, and dealing with cultural differences.

Other than that, I must have delectable blood for mosquitoes. I’ve been bitten more than many others, and worst of all, the skin of my legs reacts terribly to them, making each place of a bit huge and swollen, so my legs are covered in big red itchy blotches.

26 Octubre: Why are we here??

I’m starting to feel uneasy, because there have been a few times during training where it seems that they are teaching us, to regard the Paraguayan system of doing things such as education and business as totally wrong, and less effective. While it does seem like there is so many ways it can be improved, it seems the systems are well planned, just that there needs to be more motivation (and money to drive the motivation) from the people who run the system (government, teachers, etc) for it to work better. But so many times I’ve heard the whole neo-imperialistic attitude like “my way is the best and the right way, and your’s is wrong and we are here to teach you my way” instead of “what can be done to make your system work better?” UGH….I don’t really know how to describe it. Well, that’s just where training supposedly tries to make clear we are not here to be neo-imperialists, but you can kind of pick up those views from others, just plain condescending and judgemental attitudes. I was warned when I applied, but I thought that couldn't be true. I hope it really is just what we make of it once we are in site and actually working.

…Like for example with the school system, and how bad it is, and how we could approach it: They always tell us to “dumb it down” when talking about environmental issues with anyone, especially kids because they just don’t understand that kind of language and higher, critical thinking. Though, from my experience so far, kids especially are so smart, and if explained correctly one can use terms like “organico” instead of “natural” or “germenes and microorganismos” instead of “bichitos” and they will totally understand. I think it’s just the gringos who come here who are truly dumb and can’t get some concepts across. Some kids who are in primary school already know a lot about the envirnonmental issues and know the language of more complicated words in Spanish. The Spanish of some trainer who has been here twenty years is still kind of bad, and the grammar and sentence structures of some of the manuals in Spanish are horrible!!! And one especially tells us how important it is to learn Guarani to integrate with the community (which I agree with) but she doesn’t even speak it herself! (and she’s the one who’s lived here over 20yrs). GRRR

…Or another is about trash. There is so much judgement about how bad it is because so many people here burn their trash. And yes it is especially bad to burn plastic because of the toxic chemicals that are produced from burning plastic. But the system has it so that there is no proper way to transport trash from small pueblos with dirt roads, to a huge landfill. There are no landfills here either. I feel like from a USA point of view, there is no way we can judge. The trash they produce here per person is clearly A LOT less than the trash one produces in the U.S. And we are sooo detached from our waste that we think the problem is solved by just separating plastic, metal, glass, and trash and leaving the responsibility of others to take it from there. But It seems that with the pollution generated from just moving trash from one’s house to the landfill is probably greater than a Paraguayan emits pollution from anything. We are all polluting when we use electricity, drive cars, use plastics and produce trash. But so many people here don’t use gas monster cars (either motorcycle, or small car if you are rich, but usually transportation=walking/public bus/horse pulled cart). I just feel like this is a complicated issue where we are just being completely hypocritical to say that what Paraguayans are doing is killing the atmosphere, when basically, in the big picture, it doesn’t ever compare to what people in USA do to the environment per capita.

2 Noviembre: Too little of a swimming pool

I am trying to be more optimistic and enthusiastic. I really am. Today I just don’t think I woke with the right mindset to tackle a Guarani interview exam, and be short of one professor during language today. Silvia, a professor, was gone, so the two Guarani classes were together with Delfina, eight students instead of the usual four. I think I’ve been uneasy since this weekend, probably because the thoughts of being over critical about what the locals think and say and how it may reflect on our success and professionalism are getting far too haunting.

The volunteer who visited Monday to train us about Viveros Escolares was a man possibly in his 30s who is super guapo (hard working) and president of some kind of PCV organization. He mentioned his greatest objective is to really make everyone realize that drunken and belligerent behavior will really hinder one’s own professionalism, but also that of others PCVs if that chisme gets to their ears. This just made me feel somewhat guilty of what we did collectively last weekend for Halloween and just irked me with the rest of the trainees who mostly seemed to hear it and let it right out their other ear. I suppose I’m also growing more irritating to them as I grow more tired of being around them far too often without seeing any other Americans. I am just realizing how accustomed I have grown to bouncing around from one group of friends to another. Attending so many schools and being that one person who had friends who were in completely different circles or who hated each other meant that I could within a several days hang out a couple times a day with different people. I just am not used to being in the same circle of people for such a long period of time.

Today was worse, because eight of us were in the same class, and the level of concentration dropped to the floor as side conversations did not cease, and everyone was out of the loop, so that even the best Guarani student was speaking English too much, occasionally even directed at the professora. Worst of all was the afternoon training that consisted of a couple of urban youth development volunteers talk about working with youth groups. They were both quite informative, but one was pretty ditzy, which would probably amuse me on some other day, but today irked me. They worked on stuff like sex education and motivation, the self esteem of youth, which they were quite glum about, explaining that in PY, young people are not ever encouraged or told to dream out their hearts, are too oppressive on themselves, and such, and are only reminded when they are being bad and stupid. I would readily object and say that kids are mostly loved here, based on my observations thus far. The kids I have seen are given quite a bit of attention, constantly encouraged to do well in school and have everything they own be lindo, just the manner to go about encouraging is different than in the U.S. (definitely more felt, not so cheesy for lack of better description). Essentially the whole time, it seemed we were playing game after game without objectives other than some leadership activities. However, they didn’t say what kind of leadership roles we could encourage youth to take, and what to do during youth meetings, other than play games.

Also, just after a 15 minute break, I decided to make some Terere, because I felt too sleepy toward the end of the break. I know I should have just prepared it during break, but I just wanted a break without doing anything whatsoever. I decided to be polite and ask if I could prepare some, and was told to just participate in an absurd activity for which I was already too late after using the bathroom. So I got in place and did my whole pen in the mouth thing to pass a ring to another person’s pen in their mouth, failed and ran back to the fridge while everyone was telling me to go back that I wasn’t done and needed to participate. It made me angry to the point of watery eyes that they were so critical about my participation in a silly activity, that the trainers didn’t let me make Terere. So for the following fundraising charla I acted extra sleepy, though it wasn’t fully faked, just to spite the trainer, and made sure to put my bitter face.

I completely regret this, because I have gained nothing positive out of it for myself or the perception unto others. I also hate complaining about shit like this, but I think it is just really getting to me to be around the same ten people and not seeing anyone other than them and our host families, and also the disillusion over the Peace Corps mission during training thus far. So I just hope this doesn’t happen again, and I can have my mom’s voice of wisdom in my conscience before it happens, reminding me that I cannot complain, but instead find an alternative or remember how useless it is to complain and be vexed.

3 Noviembre: Salio el Sol!

Better post: I felt wiped out this morning on our way to the second day of practica, working in a school with about 60 children 4-6th grade. It was our first day of real work, and being part of the smallest group of trainees (just two of us) working in the biggest school around here (doesn't make sense, huh?), did not make it an event to look forward to. So we went, walked the 45 minutes there on a hot 7:30am morning, and started immediately with the 4th graders. I just wanted to get started since we arrived a little late, and so I got the kids, power walked to the school yard and did our charla (lecture) on Organic and Inorganic Waste Classifications, followed by a Timeline of Decomposition, working about 40 mins with 20 kids at a time. Working with the 4th graders outdoors and experiencing the impossibility of disciplining those kids to stay in place and listen without their teacher's supervision was frustrating.

Subsequently, we worked with the other classes indoors after doing an icebreaker, and were impressed with everyone's knowledge of the difference of organic and inorganic stuff. However, the timeline decomposition thing was a little more tougher for the kids to figure out, except for the 6th grade class who was too smart for our teaching material and level. I was pleased to see that kids are quite on top of their knowledge for their grade level, granted that I've been given the opposite impression during training.

Friday is day four of five dia de practica, so we'll see how it goes, and hope the kids are well behaved in 4th grade, and we can get the teachers to stay with us during the activities!

Chicken Trees

I'm still learning to use my camera. This is from a gorgeous night, and I thought the picture looked cool, but it still does no justice for what it actually looked like. At about 10pm, a full yellowish moon, streaked on all sides by swept clouds, and my camera made the moon look like a planet. jajaja. I love that the trees just outside our house become "chicken trees" after sunset. There is no corral for the chickens, so they just plop themselves on the branches of a few trees to spend the night. There's about seven chickens on this tree, and the younger chickens circle that wooden box for the night. It never fails to amuse me.
You can see this bare tree has three or four gallinas, and on the bottom corner, a couple of other gallinas are resting on another tree.

Thus Far, A Pelo

I’ve been in Paraguay for only a couple of days, and thus far it's a pelo (rad/amazing). The only official class we’ve had began with the instruction on how to make Terere, the cold version of Yerba Mate, which is a-a-amaziiiing. Due to unforeseen changes of plans involving the 14-hour stopover in Brasil, we arrived in Paraguay quite late, arriving at a retiro (retreat) at about 2am.

The following morning we left by 8am to visit the Peace Corps center in Guarambare (about an hour from the capital) in order to go through the initial logistics, immediate need-to-knows, and to get some shots. One of these ‘shots’ included a bee sting required for Bee Keepers and Crop Extension volunteers. It was optional for the Environmental Educators, but I chose to get it for curiosity, since I’ve never had one, and I too would probably be around bees at some point. Initially it was just a pinch, not much harder than my 2-year-old nephew does (pinching is his new addition to his little tantrums) but by 10 seconds, it kind of burned for several minutes, then just felt sore for about an hour.

I later found out I live in Typychaty (pronounced “Tupushatu” with the “u” sounds made from deep in the throat), with the cutest little family, who’s names I probably can’t mention wholly in this blog. Nonetheless, my host father is nearly 90 years old, and my host mother is 52…..yea…. They have a son living at home who is 27 and studying, and three other ‘children’ who are married, working, living on their own with their little families.

I’m still exploring the food, culture, and beautiful landscapes, and hope to be able to upload pictures as well. I think it’s too early to jump to conclusions about what I think about the food and whatnot. I’ve already felt quite adventuresome by having river fish for lunch, and possibly will be as it seems there is an imminent event of making chicken from scratch….like plucking the feathers and all…

On another note, I know I will have to really think differently about money. We’re given 20,000 Gs per day (where G=Guaranies and approximately 5000Gs = $1USD) and I just bought an alarm clock with a battery for 25,000Gs…yea…spending more than a whole day’s worth of allowance on a little plastic clock made me see it in a whole different perspective. I guess beer isn’t as bad… a group of us from the little town bought 40s for about 7500Gs each.

Ciao!

Summer wrap-up & Mexico

This summer, I rarely used computer much, hence the huge time gap in posts. My computer’s screen was whack since I replaced it about two years ago, but had worsened just as the school year ended, and got to the point that I couldn’t use it for more than a few minutes before the screen became gray. Unfortunately, that also meant that I did not follow through from the first post in regard to completing the Guarani Language podcasts.

Additionally, I got a job, which means I got paid, but I didn’t have much time left to volunteer at the slough where it’s more fun. However, I got a summer membership to a gym, and kicked ass! I committed about three hours per day, 4-6 times/week for swimming, spinning, elliptical, weights and cardio. The amazing endorphin high was often the only way I could get through a day of work with a smile plastered on my face.

While I fell in love with spinning and became a better swimmer, I lost about 12 lbs in just under two months, but seriously gained it all back (and some more after returning) in two short weeks in a visit to Mexico, in a hiatus from my semi-vegetarian lifestyle. I couldn’t say I regret those tacos, tortas (Mexican sandwiches), dulces (candy), helados (delectable ice cream), cocteles de fruta (fruit cocktails), and pan dulce (sweet artisan bread), as I savored almost every bite.

The primary reason for my visit was not only food, but to visit mi Tierra Patria (Motherland), see my grandparents and extended family from my father’s side. Every mid-September, around the time of El Grito (Independence day) the family holds a reunion at the grandparent’s ranch in Arandas, Jalisco. I hadn’t been for seven years, as school in the US decided to begin their school year by this time, so I couldn’t thank God for a better time to go: out of college, just before beginning the Peace Corps, and in the epic year of the bicentenario (bicentenary anniversary of independence).

I went with my sister, her husband and two kids, and stayed in an aunt’s house, who has kids of about the same age as my niece and nephew. I don’t know exactly how we ended up with the relative who has the smallest house, so nine of us crammed into a tiny two-floor rectangle box house in two rooms, with one bathroom. That alone, and the fact that the kids where the same age meant there was never a moment of peace and silence, especially from a pair of two year old boys constantly playing or fighting. Nonetheless, we made time to go out and see the city. We spent a weekend in Acapulco in lieu of Puerto Vallarta, where my uncle and grandma were, but was too far. In the city we toured through the colorful boats of the richly historical Xochimilco, climbed the Sun Pyramid of Teotihuacan, saw the beautiful decorations of the Zocalo (central square) for the festivities, visited more family, visited the house my mother has rented to a cousin, which I grew up in until I was four, shopped and ate tons of taco grease with the freshest fruit juice to wash it down.

The day before El Grito, we headed to Jalisco, where the festivities had already begun with beauty contests, parades, and some kinds of contests amongst the vaqueros (cowboys). The night of the Grito was amusing and crazy; the whole town put away their trucks and exchanged them for a horse and tequila bottle. The streets were littered with drunks and live Banda music while men showed off their girls and steed in possibly the best western wear they owned. I must admit, the atmosphere was contagious, and I began to enjoy the music, feeling out of place in my sandals and cargo pants. The girls also were at their best (many looking like clones of each other in the way they dressed and carried themselves), with curled hair and makeup that clearly took hours to prepare, blouses with thick belts at the waist, and jeans tucked into boots.

Anyway, this is getting too lengthy, and if you’ve gotten to this point, I’m surprised I haven’t bored you. The only awesome thing that followed was the family reunion at the ranch, where we ate freshly picked corn and a variety of fruits, but most importantly had the chance to catch up with family who were a constant presence until I was four, but now rarely see. :-(

Well I’m off! Currently in Miami, waiting for the time to go to the airport and head to Brazil for an amazingly long 14.5 hour layover!!!!!

Hello, friends!

This post is to begin for the anticipation of 27 months of life in Paraguay. I still have over two months before I leave California, and am already nervous yet ecstatic to embark on a completely new kind of adventure after college with the Peace Corps as an Environmental Educator.

Why the title of the blog, "Under the Lapacho Tree?" I like trees. A lot. I just googled facts of Paraguay, including the national tree, which happens to be the Lapacho tree. It blooms gorgeous pink/white/yellow flowers and is believed to have some strong medicinal/health properties.

Mba’eitekoiko!! (Informal hello in Guarani)

One of coolest things about Paraguay is that they have two official languages, Spanish and Guarani. Knowing Spanish won’t be enough! I’ll have to learn Guarani in order to be able to more easily assimilate and get along with locals, and am very excited to learn a language many people may live their whole lives and not even hear the name. Thus I have begun self-instruction in Guarani through Podcasts from PC volunteers. Though I’ve only done two lessons in over a week, I’ve learned some greetings and a simple conjugation for speaking in first person, and fortunately my niece has found them amusing so I could do them while I take care of her.

I’ve been reading about current volunteers in Paraguay to procure a sense of life as a PC volunteer through their blogged experiences, and generally have picked up that the summer (our winter months) can be arduously hot! (Unlike the unusually cold summer days we’ve been having in Monterey Bay). And thus drinking cold terere (a traditional mate tea) in the shade, and spending the day tranquilopa (tranquil), helps the scorching hot days go by and form stronger relationships with others (it’s always done socially).

Well, I have much to look forward to, and already feel that there is too little time to prepare. I’ve read a little on doing recycled art, helped with a couple of visiting kid camps at the slough, read and practiced some gardening, and would like to do some more do-it-yourself projects around the house so I don’t feel so useless. And I need more cooking experience! After Trinity, what little talent I had in the kitchen kind of left me, so I am to reclaim it this summer!

If you have any suggestions on what else I could/should do please let me know!

Jajotopata (goodbye-just for now)!