Paraguay
I think Anthony Bourdain said it best: “For most people, Paraguay is an empty space on the map of Latin America.” When Parts Unknown filmed an episode there, admittedly, my first reaction was “why?”
I am Paraguayan. More accurately, I am an American of Paraguayan descent. I’ve lived there, worked there. I have friends and family there who still message me numerous times a week. It’s a nation of contrasts: both indigenous and European, where *white* people speak the Guaraní language. It is rich in spirit but poor financially. It wouldn’t be out of the question to see a brand-new Mercedes blow through a red light, passing a burro-drawn carriage on its colonial streets.
Note: traffic lights are more of a suggestion rather than a conduit of the law. Be extra careful when crossing.
Latins are notorious for being late, but Paraguayans take that up multiple notches. Parties advertised to start at 7pm sometimes start after 11pm. It’s also not uncommon for a conversation in Spanish to switch abruptly to Guaraní. It’s a developing nation, and it has a long way to go.
I am in a privileged position to comment on these things. But would I change them if I had the power to do so? Part of me, selfishly, would say “no.”
Of course, I would want to ease the poverty. Of course, I think that events should start at the time you’ve been told, or at least have them not start hours later. Of course, if I’m in the middle of speaking, don’t interrupt me by slurping your tereré loudly.
Paraguayans drink the most tea per capita. Tereré is a cold yerba maté infusion, and it’s ubiquitous there, so much so that it’s banned in several places. You can’t make this stuff up.
But I fear that with development, the good idiosyncrasies of Paraguay will erode. I hope that never happens. I hope that as it develops, Paraguay maintains its quirky characteristics – it’s myths, music, and legends, it’s indigenous/European fusion, and the immeasurable friendliness of its people.
As a child, I witnessed a man get attacked by a screwdriver. A screwdriver. He survived, and though the assailant fled, a rush of people helped the victim get medical attention without second thought.
I once got kicked off a bus after it got stuck in the mud in the middle of the hinterlands. I had no cell service, and I and my fellow passengers were left to fend for ourselves. I hitchhiked and was picked up by construction workers in a shanty pickup headed to repair a bridge. They chatted me up nonstop. Not in one of those ‘avoid awkward silence’ ways. No, they were genuinely interested in me, and I in them. Although I insisted against it, they took a 45-minute detour to drop me off exactly where I needed to go. They adamantly refused any gas money I offered.
I’m sure Marco Polo could handle a little bit of mud.
“Why?” then? Paraguay doesn’t have beaches or large jungles. It doesn’t have metropolises like Rio or Buenos Aires. It doesn’t have stunning views of the Andes like Chile or Peru. It has many problems, economically and politically. But the answer, for me, is the people.