Paraguay!

First off, I need to apologize to everyone for the lack of communication these last few days; I have been running around like crazy trying to get situated. But let's start with the bus ride from Bolivia to Paraguay...

Ok. Bolivia is half really high altitude mountains and half almost sea-level desert. The half that is sea-level desert turns into the northwest part of Paraguay. It is called the Chaco, and Paraguay and Bolivia fought a war over it in the 30's cause they thought that there was oil there. According to the Paraguayans I've talked to Bolivia had tanks and machine guns while Paraguay had only machetes and pitchforks (one guy told me that Paraguay used bee hives as grenades?!) And in spite of all of this Paraguay won the Chaco War and took its bigger share of the Chaco desert. And there wasn't oil there. There is, however, a giant aquifer there and Paraguay is very worried that the US will invade and steal all their water after we are done stealing all the oil from Iraq.

Remember the Mennonites from the last blog entry? So I get on the bus and who is right in my area of the bus but a real-live, gigantic, blond Mennonite and his little blond family! The dad and two sons (both under 3 years old) were all wearing blue coveralls with long sleeve white shirts and the Mrs. was wearing a shawl and an old style dress. They were speaking what I found out later to be (translated from Spanish) "low German" or I guess old German or something. It sounds more English than German. They had a bunch of stuff and were getting situated, and some of their things were on my seat, so I waited a bit until they were all settled. It took them a while because they were bringing a bunch of stuff back to Paraguay and because of the kids and everything. When they were all done, it turned out that they had only purchased 2 seats and stuffed underneath and overhead all the space that they could with their things, and then each had a kid on their lap. And they were across the aisle from me. So when it turned out that nobody was in the seat next to me I offered them one of the seats on my side of the aisle (thinking that they would put one of their tiny kids in the seat next to me) and they exhaled and were all smiles and the great big dad came over and told me to scoot over and the mom put the kids in the aisle and spread out across the 2 seats that she now had for herself. So for the whole ride I got to be squished by a giant german guy that doesn't use deodorant.

But it turned out to not be so bad cause pretty soon I was stinky too and I told the Mennonite that my grandpa was a sheep man and that made him immensely pleased. So pleased that he started sharing the prices of soy beans and sunflowers and the different prices in Bolivia and Paraguay and that his family actually lived in Bolivia now because the Mennonites in Paraguay had all been corrupted and were all watching TV now. They had moved to Bolivia last year and were going back to Paraguay to "get some documents." Which I guess was true cause when we got to the border he really didn't have any documents for his whole family and had to bribe the immigration officer 60 dollars to let him pass. He later told me that he had just driven his tractor across the Chaco and had eventually ended up in the right place in Bolivia.

The Bolivian immigration officer didn't seem to have any problems with the French and British people that were crossing the border (who didn't speak spanish) but with me he looked me right in the eye and asked me what I was doing in Bolivia and if the date on the entry stamp was correct and which cities I stayed in and the names of the hotels that I had stayed in and how much I paid at those hotels. After a pause he nodded his head slowly and looked kinda disappointed that I really didn't have any reason at all to give him 60 dollars and gave me my exit stamp.

The Paraguayan side of the border was more interesting because Bolivia, along with Columbia, is where cocaine is born. The coca plant, from which cocaine is made, is farmed and used to make a traditional tea or is chewed to make a traditional ball of goo, both of which are mild stimulants. Coca tea is what I had in the coffee shop before church. I just kind of assumed, but later found out that Bolivian Mormons do indeed drink coca tea. So anyway, since there is a lot of coca in Bolivia there is a lot of cocaine. On the Paraguayan side of the border there were drug dogs and searches and pat downs and everything. I was the very last one in line to get my stuff gone through and to get a pat down, but when my policeman came up I greeted him in Guaraní and he was really happy and instead of patting me down just patted me real hard on the back and told me to get as many Paraguayan girl-friends as I could and then he called the other police over and they all told me in Guaraní to get as many girl-friends as I could. Then I told them that I was already married and they laughed really hard and said that I had misunderstood; that they had told me to get girl-friends, not a wife. So I kinda uncomfortably laughed and they all laughed again and nobody checked my stuff.

When I got to Asuncion I was pretty dirty and sweaty and tired and very very excited to be in parts of Paraguay that I had been in before. The first thing I did when I got here was to go to the lomito arabe place - Collin knows what I'm talking about, and in Germany they had kind of the same thing and called it a duner kebab. There is this guy in downtown Asuncion from Lebanon that sells these things that are a kind of wrap with chicken and beef and vegetables and it is amazingly delicious and I am planning on going there a lot.

The second thing was to find a place to stay. Lonely Planet recommended a place in the center of Asuncion that is this old lady's house that she has converted into a kind of hotel. All of the older houses here are kind of indoor-outdoor experiences, in that you if you walk from the front of the house through the kitchen, through the family room, and into your room, you will first be outside, then inside, then outside, then inside again. It is pretty neat for the summertime because everything is open and breezy, and especially when it rains because you can be inside and dry but you are very close and intimate with the weather. Right now, though, since it is pretty cold, being intimate with the weather is about as enjoyable as cuddling with the lunch lady.

So all of that was Thursday night and I took a really hot shower and put a lot of blankets on the bed to keep the lunch lady out and slept like a log. When I got up, I realized that I hadn’t brought any phone numbers and went to the mission office to at least get the number of the Stake President here, who is the one who had given me the email address of Jabibi Noguera, the doctor that I will be working with in the clinic. Did any of you ever go back to your elementary school or high school after you had graduated, and feel “above” the jurisdiction of it? That is what it felt like being in the mission office with jeans and a beard. How mature am I?

I eventually got Dr. Noguera’s phone number and we agreed to meet Monday night at 5:00 to get acquainted and to get everything in order. I also had my laundry done (as in someone else did it) for three bucks. Then, a minor crisis with the ATM’s here occurred; all of the machines said that they weren’t associated with my card. And on the bank’s website it says that every ATM should work. Then I tried calling the toll free number for the bank, but all of the public phones and all cell phones here have toll free numbers blocked. (side note - almost everyone uses cell phones) (another side note - the police, fire, and hospital numbers are all toll free, so basically no one can call them) I went back to my hostel to use the phone there, but the old lady running the place really didn’t want me calling the US from her phone cause it would be expensive. When I told her it would be free and showed her the Paraguayan version of 1-800 on the phone number I was going to dial, she started explaining to me how far away the US is and that the phone lines have to go through water and across mountains and that everything in the US was more expensive. So I couldn’t use her phone. By this time it was already late in the afternoon and I was getting pretty desperate cause I didn’t have three dollars to give to the washer lady. Finally I tried another ATM and it worked. So I know which ATM to use now.

When I got back to the hostel, the old lady running the place told me that she wanted to go to mass and I asked her if I could go too. Nooo, she said, but could I stay and answer the phone and unlock the front door while she was away? “Just tell people you’re the guard from North America. Ok?” I guess she didn’t trust me enough to use her phone but now she wanted me to run the place for an hour. So I said ok, and she left and I answered the door and didn’t tell people that I was the guard from North America.

The next day, Saturday, I planned to surprise some friends, the Lopez family, by showing up on their front doorstep. So I got on a bus and rode an hour out to Anahi, where they live, thinking that I would just remember all of the streets and be able to just go right up to their door. Keep in mind that I practically lived in the streets in the streets of Anahi for four and a half months. So I got off the bus and everything was fine and good, but then the further into the area I got, the less I recognized, and I ended up just walking around the streets for three hours and getting really tired. I knew, technically, that I had been there before, but really was completely lost.

So I eventually gave up and found an internet place and read an email from Jill and felt a lot better about myself, and then I read another of the emails in my inbox. It was from the Figueredo family, one of the families that I met the first time I came to Paraguay. In the email they invited me to stay at their house and said that they missed me and were so glad that I was back in Paraguay and fortunately, they also gave me their phone number. So I called them up and rode the bus back into Asuncion to meet up with them, and they brought me home and made me food and everything was okay again. The Figueredos have been Mormons for a long time, and are better off than most Paraguayans; they have a big house and everything is very comfortable and free and, best of all, I am living with a family. We talked for a long time last night and drank lots of maté and today we went to church and I showed them pictures of Jill and we are all really excited for her to come down.

So tomorrow we will run some errands and then I have the appointment with the Dr. to see exactly what I will be doing for the next month. Sorry about the length of this entry, but it had to cover many days' time. I love this place!

Notes:

I was mistaken about the altitude in La Paz. It's not 15,000 feet like I said, it's closer to 12,500 ft. Sorry.

It snowed in Buenos Aires last week. It hasn't snowed there in 90 years.

My excuse for the run-on sentances and bad grammar of the blog? I have been reading Jack Keruac lately.