Lets Do The Time Warp Again, Return To Paraguay
Feb 11- 17, “Asuncion del Paraguay, capital de mis amores” -Paraguayan folk song
Leaving Argentina, Brazil and the crowds of tourists behind, our next destination was Asuncion, Paraguay. Our first glimpse of this small, isolated but proud country was when we arrived there in June, 1976 after a long flight from New England on a Braniff Airways’ 707. Never having lived farther than twenty miles from where I was born, I had been hired to teach science at the American School of Asuncion by then-director Dr. Jim Stimson. I was 27 and Shelley 25. Little did we know that this would be the beginning of our twenty-seven year careers of teaching and living overseas. Because of this, Paraguay has always held a special place in our hearts, and we always wanted to return for a visit.
This was to be a homecoming of sorts, a step back in time as well as a chance to see how much the country had changed since we left in December, 1979. It was also an opportunity to re-connect with old friends and former students who are now adults with their own families. There would no doubt be a lot of emotions associated with this part of our journey.
The main entry point to Paraguay on the east side of the country is a bridge over the Rio Parana and through Ciudad del Este, a border boom town. The last time we passed that way, the city was called Puerto Presidenté Stroessner after the notorious dictator who ruled this little landlocked country from 1954 until he was booted out by another military general in 1989. Back then it had a reputation for smuggling tax free items like cigarettes and booze into Brazil and Argentina; apparently its reputation hasn’t changed all that much except that it’s little, open-fronted shops have evolved into massive multi-storied malls which cater to Brazilian and Argentine tourists intent on saving money on anything from flat screen TV's to fine cigars. It was a five-hour bus ride west from Ciudad del Este to Asuncion, and because of all the commercial development along the roadside, it wasn’t until about an hour into the trip that I began to recognize the Paraguayan campo landscape of my memories. Rolling green fields with the occasional herd of cows, small stuccoed houses nestled in a grove of shady mango trees under which the residents could be seen gathered in multi-generational groups drinking tereré, one of Paraguay’s national symbols. It’s a drink made from cold water poured into yerba maté and sipped through a metal straw called a bombilla. It has a strong herbal flavor, we used to call it "swamp water", but it is the most refreshing elixir on a hot tropical day. I still like to imbibe in a cup of tereré when we get the inevitable tropical heat wave during New England's Summer.
The bus made several stops along the way to discharge and pick up passengers. I think it was in a city called Coronel Oviedo that a lady boarded the bus with a large basket filled with a donut shaped chewy corn bread called chipa. We bought three for 2000 Guaranies, about 35 cents. They were fresh, warm and tasted better than I remembered them to be. By nightfall the bus slowed with the traffic as we entered the congested “suburb” of San Lorenzo. This was our introduction to the first evidence of the major developmental changes to the country and its economy — the number of private cars on the road. Unfortunately traffic jams are now an irritable reality of life in Asuncion, the nearly deserted streets of the sleepy little backwater city we once knew are now smothered by rivers of cars. We arrived to the Asuncion bus station a little after seven and were greeted by our friend Graciana, who as a young woman worked in the library at the American School, and former student Gloria. They were to be our hostesses over the next few days. We were humbled by their warmth, generosity and hospitality; words cannot express our appreciation for all that they did for us during our stay.
Some highlights from our return to Paraguay: -The gathering of former American School students at the Alamo Restaurant on Friday night. It was terrific to see what wonderful adults they had become and to hear about their families, careers and stories of other former students who couldn’t be present at the event. It is very difficult to express in words the thoughts and emotions that a teacher has when meeting his students after so many years. To know them as teenagers and then to meet them as adults, to hear of their lives and to be able to exchange stories from our collective past was extremely emotional and reaffirming to me of the wonder, luck, beauty and joy that life's sometime's random choices can ultimately be manifest as such positive and memorable outcomes.
-Our trip to Luque, Areguá and San Bernardino in a rented car on Sunday. We hardly recognized Luque, but it is still the place to buy intricate silver filagree jewelry. The heart of Areguá looked pretty much the same, beautiful old houses, some restored, but there was so much more development on the edges of what was once a sleepy little compo town. Most of our time in San Bernadino was spent at the beautiful home of former student and professional musician and luthier, Renato Bellucci and his lovely wife Belen. The highlight of the afternoon was to listen to Renato play, on one of the guitars he so artistically crafted, “Cavatina” by John Williams as the late afternoon sunlight bathed the room with an orange glow.
-Revisiting the American School and touring the campus. When we taught their in the ‘70s there were about 400 students in grades K-12; now it’s pushing close to 680. It was heartening to see some parts of the campus were basically the same or only slightly modified from when we were there, including my classroom and the art room. There were also many new buildings — a gym, new cafeteria and classrooms — all to be expected in a growing school in a growing country.
-Thanks to another wonderful Paraguayan friend Georgina, we were able to find the cozy little house that we lived in from ’77-79 on Avenida Bruselas. It was still standing in spite of the massive amount of change and development that surrounded it.
-A stop for empanadas and caldo de pescado at the Lido Bar on Avenida Palma in downtown Asuncion and café helado at the Bolsi Bar.
-The free museum at the Cabildo, Paraguay’s old legislative building.
-Walking near deserted and quiet streets in and around Plaza de la Libertad on Saturday evening. The skateboarders on Palma and a Somos Gay rally in the plaza certainly would have been unthinkable during the Stroessner era.
-The new Costenera park and boulevard along Asuncion’s riverfront. This wide and open space is a thoughtful complement to the continual growth and expansion of the city.
-Being invited to view the inside of the national cathedral, which was closed to the public that afternoon, by a sweet lady who let us in through the back door.
-Meeting with former student and now artist, photographer and philosopher Carlos Bittar who so generously gave me a signed copy of his latest book Fin del Zona Urbano. a brilliant commentary on the consequences of the development and growth in Paraguay.
-Dinner at the Club Centenario with friends on our last night in Paraguay. A delicious and fitting end to a trip we had dreamed about doing for years.
Final Thoughts: -Our timing as far as the weather in Paraguay wasn’t so good; most days were hovering around 100 degrees Fahrenheit with 95% humidity. I don’t ever recall experiencing such extremes when we lived there. It was so hot, even the locals were complaining about it. The intense heat sure made touring a challenge. We just had to learn to live in our sweat.
-Regrets: I never got to see any Paraguayan folk music performed live. Actually didn’t hear as much as we used to when walking the streets in Asuncion. Usually there was a radio playing it some somewhere within hearing distance. It was the soundtrack for my Paraguayan experience back then. The globalized music scene seems to have supplanted it with a combination of Latin pop and Anglo pop. The rhythms now are more upbeat and electric, gone are the melodic harmonies of the acoustic guitar, the distinctive sound of the strings of the Paraguayan harp and vocals sung in Guarani, the indigenous first language of Paraguay — something very sweet lost there.
We didn’t get farther away from the capital into the campo, would like to have gotten out to the waterfalls at Chololó or the campo town Villarrica, maybe next time.
Farmacia Catedral, one of the classic business establishments on Avenida Palma in central Asuncion. It couldn't compete with the modern chains of pharmacies now throughout the city and recently closed. It is now a museum of medical instruments.
This is how it looked in the late 70's
Styling at the Pettirossi Market
When we lived here, we would go to the Pettirossi Market every Saturday morning to buy our fresh fruits and veggies. We noticed they now sell a lot more clothes and consumer goods, much of which wasn't available back then.
The Presidential Palace built by the infamous dictator Marscal Lopez in 1857.
You can see more of the black and white analog images I made while living in Paraguay during he Stroessner era in the '70s here: http://www.paulgriffin-photos.com/p629237076
Comments
Sharon(non-registered)
Totally hope you bought one of those "designer" jackets, Paul. Loved looking at the photos and hearing about the reminiscing of then and now.
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