We were sitting on some plastic chairs under a tin roof somewhere in rural Paraguay—me and my friend Pablo. Just visiting some folks he knew. I was the quiet North American in the corner, probably smiling too much as I tried to pretend I was following the conversation.
But then someone new came in who I hadn’t met yet. He locked eyes with me and went into this full-on rant about how I was a spy.
Like, actually a spy.
Said Americans were there to steal their water. That Peace Corps was just a front.
And he was serious. Totally convinced.
At first, I tried to play it light—cracked a couple of jokes, tried to ease the tension. Said something like, “If I’m a spy, I’m really bad at it—my Guaraní is terrible and my backpack can’t hold very much water.” Got a few half-smiles from the others, but not from him. He wasn’t laughing. He wasn’t listening.
He’d already decided who I was. I wasn’t a person—I was a symbol. A threat.
Then Pablo stepped in.
He didn’t escalate it. Didn’t try to win an argument. He just spoke to the guy like a neighbor. Calm. Direct. Told him who I was, why I was there, what I was actually doing. No big speech. Just the facts, delivered by someone he trusted.
And the guy listened.
That moment has lived with me.
Because it showed me something that’s easy to forget: sometimes, people aren’t rejecting your message. They just can’t hear it from you. Doesn’t matter how kind you are, or how true your words are. If you don’t fit their framework, the message won’t land.
I guess that’s just part of human nature. To keep thinking a way or doing a thing… for as long as is seems like it’s working for you.
I can empathize with that.
But there are times when you need to push a little. To get through to someone who’s worth the effort.
What I learned that night with Pablo was that sometimes, the most courageous thing you can do is step back, let someone else speak, and trust that truth has more than one voice.
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Talk soon,
Austin