I found the abandoned and decrepit house while I was out one day herding Adolfo's horses. Coming from Iñiguazito, the yegua, or female horse, dipped below a fallen tree down onto an overgrown trail into a wooded thicket, and of course the other horses followed. We were all at a trot, so I had to "throw on the brakes" and cut left before being clothes-lined. I dipped into the forest and continued along the path of least resistance down a hill, dodging branches and trees in an attempt to head off the horses. When I reached the bottom, I found myself in a small clearing, the horses gone and an abandoned old house in front of me. It was love at first sight, and I decided had to live there.
Before I could move in, much work had to be done to bring the place up to Peace Corps "code." This in itself took a couple months, a lot of sweat, patience, and money (well around 2,000 Bs or $250…hey, that was around a month's worth of pay for me!). Cement and stucco had to be brought in from Yacuiba four hours away and then transported by horse drawn cart (and the only horse I could get at the time was super old and on his last miles, it took forever!); the sand I carried in old sugar bags; the new roof, made from cardboard dipped in tar, had to be purchased in Argentina; we had to cut down the trees for wood to make the door and roof, and then haul it out of the woods on our backs and using donkeys. Then I dug the latrine pit and hooked up the outhouse with a view of the hill and creek. 
I even built a toilet to sit on and added a seat. It's probably the best place I've ever had to relieve myself. Next came Huitzi's fence, which involved more tree felling, more hauling, and a whole lot of hole digging. Anyway, the project was quite laborious but also a lot of fun. The process taught me much about life in the Chaco, and in the end, I was left with a pretty sweet place to live.
My little home sat on a gently sloping hillside just behind which, below a steep embankment, ran a small stream, el Rio Iñiguazito. The stream has a swimming hole called Poso Pastor, after Eldy's father. From there I collected my drinking water, washed my clothes and horse, bathed, and refreshed myself on those brutally hot Chaco days. The house and its "property" were located between Iñiguazú and Iñiguazito, in the trough of two hills leading up to each valley. I was somewhat isolated down there, but I had Huitzi, Huesos ("whey-sos"), and plenty to explore. There was also large orange grove off to one side, some trails, and plenty of trees and open space for running around. It was beautiful.
Living alone was great at first, but the novelty wore off when I realized how lonely I would occasionally find myself; consequently, I was never home. Lonely solitude inspired me to socialize, integrate, and continue the process of assimilation, integral to a positive Peace Corps experience.
Be that as it may, it still totally rocked. I felt as if I was living like a true Chaqueño, which is exactly what I was going for: an opportunity to live independently, to commune with nature, and to experience the hardships associated with routine tasks that we often take for granted in the US.
