Beginning the Transition

       In my last few days in Paraguay I had several people ask me whether or not I would continue writing in this blog after I returned back to America. To be honest, I always thought that this would end the day I left Paraguay. The whole reason for writing it was to give people insight to the work I was involved in with people in my community, and to provide some general information about a country not often thought about on a global scale. I hadn't even considered writing about the transition back mostly because those would be ramblings in America, not Paraguay. The more I thought about it, however, the more I realized that all those ramblings in Paraguay had left an indelible mark that would dramatically influence my decisions when I finally returned. While I still haven't figured out what the experience of being a Peace Corps Volunteer in Paraguay is in the long and short terms, I know that it had to of done something that overtime will hopefully become clearer in my mind.
       After traveling for 3-weeks through Bolivia and Chile I left Santiago at 10:10 PM on December 19th. It wasn't until I was sitting at the gate that a flurry of emotions hit me that I had been suppressing since I had left Paraguay. Aside from the Paraguayans I would miss there were countless other people, things, and places that kept popping up in mind. Would I ever seem them again? Would I be able to go to that place in the future? When, if ever, will I go back there? Those feeling were compounded with the emotions of seeing my family for the first time in two years. I think I almost broke down on the plane several times just thinking about it all. Thankfully a women in front of me had a panic attack about the plane tacking off, and wanted to get off. Seeing that interaction, and the hundreds of movies available to watch on the touch screen TV's were enough of a distraction to get me through the first leg of my journey. When we arrived in Atlanta the phenomenon of being in America for the first time since I left in September 2011 really started to hit me. I never thought that I could be overwhelmed by a modern bathroom, but as I entered the facilities in the Atlanta airport I was taken aback by the fact that you could flush toilet paper, the facet automatically spit out hot water, and a seemingly old fashion paper towel dispenser turned out to be an automated machine that spewed the perfect amount of paper toweling to sufficiently dry my hands. I was much more used to no soap, freezing water, and minimal toweling at best, so having everything work in that efficient manner overwhelmed me a bit more than I thought possible. After braving the modernity of the bathroom I started heading for my gate, and was exposed to American morning television programming for the first time since I left.
       As most morning shows go, this one was a myriad of pop culture trash stories intertwined with national and international news. There was a two minute bit on some guy saying racist comments from this super popular television show that I had only heard of in passing called Duck Dynasty. Then there was a 30 second update on the brewing civil war in South Sudan followed by a three minute breaking news piece about a theatre in London collapsing during a performance where nobody died. I understood that news is meant to appeal to the people watching it, but having come from a place that was lower down the development scale I was saddened by what my country saw was important information. That's not to say this particular news program was most well informed show on TV, but it being my first exposure to American media it was a bit overwhelming.
       When I finally saw my parents for the first time the emotions finally boiled over, and it hit me that I wasn't going back to Paraguay. Seeing the city where I grew up for the first time since I left was pretty incredible. Cincinnati has gone through numerous development projects since I left. There are all sorts of new apartments, bars and restaurants in several areas where there was previously nothing. There is a large casino in the middle of downtown. Houses and buildings that I passed on a daily basis growing up are sometimes different colors. Supermarkets, bars, restaurants, and stores have more choices than I could imagine, and I have often found myself getting overwhelmed by those choices. All technology seems to be put in place to simply to make things happen faster like having your check split without even asking. I was so used to struggling through who owes what when the bill comes that I sort of missed the incipient banter that inevitably followed resolving the check. In Paraguay, if I found a stout beer I would literally scream out loud. In America, every bar has at least four choices all which are slightly different. The way we interact with people is also remarkable.
       The way we as Americans interact with each other is peculiar to me now, and I finally understand why Paraguayans thought I was so strange on some levels. We have this instinctual ability to ask extremely directed questions at each other. To me, it seems more like a mechanical process to produce the desired result as quickly as possible. Drawing out emotions in conversations that are meaningful is a talent that not many of us process. Since I've been home, granted its been a week, the first time I see people that I haven't spoken to since I left they ask my two questions in this order: "How was it?" and "What are you going to do next?" It's not rude, its just how we interact. The questions are general enough that I could ramble for hours, but instincts tell me that I have to have a short an concise answer. Before we left Paraguay we had a closing of service conference that had a secession about transitioning home. In that time we discussed elevator speeches in which we gave a five minute summery of a good story, a challenge, and a funny story from our service. I, for whatever reason, haven't quite figured out the perfect way to tell that story, but I have a lifetime to figure it out. I hear all the time that people don't care about what you did, and that the hardest part of transition is that seeming lack caring, but I don't think it's that simple. It's not that people don't care I think it's more they don't have the capacity to understand in that moment. I view it as my responsibility to get them to care, to show them that this something meaningful to me and that if you're willing to listen it can have some semblance of the same meaning to you. It's getting to that conversation that has been the hard part because those two years that I spent in Paraguay were two years that other people spent doing interesting things as well that could've been as meaningful if not more to their lives as my experience was to mine. The conversation is reciprocal, and it is a skill to be able to illustrate how my experience relates to others. This has been a crazy week and I am still figuring out what it means to be home again. All I know at this point is that things seem eerily the same, but strangely different and recognizing the differences has actually been quite fun so far.

Saying Goodbye...Again

Well as hard as it is to believe, my two years of Peace Corps service have been completed, and I have to admit that it really hasn’t hit me that I am leaving tonight. Packing up and saying goodbye constantly for seemingly about a month has taken a pretty big toll emotionally. Couple those feelings with the inevitable challenges with dramatic transition, and you got yourself a big mess when trying to wrap things up and finally say goodbye for now to a lot of people who I have come to care about.  I had a very positive experience in Paraguay and the adage you learn more from the people you’ve come to help than you teach them certainly seems true at this juncture.

                  I like to think that I used this blog primarily so people at home could see what I was doing, and how I was living. The more I wrote about in it the more I noticed a change in style from short anecdotes to larger themes about the culture, economy, and Paraguay in international contexts. Those small projects that I found myself involved tremendously enhanced my understanding of Paraguay in the larger contexts, and a better fostered personal understanding of how the country functions. Paraguay is a small poor country. The division of wealth is astronomically skewed, and the tides of globalization where omnipresent and incessantly expanding in the two short years I was here. I saw one President get overthrown, and another get elected in. I sat in on community meetings, and read a lot about Paraguay’s government and history. The spectrum of my experience is truly remarkable, and it kept me guessing at every juncture. Despite all the challenges this country still faces it still somehow manages to leave an indelible mark on the psyche of the people who spend time here, and I marvel at how happy people are despite not having many things I would’ve deemed essential before my arrival. A truly happy life isn’t one that is defined by material processions or individual achievements, but rather by the people you choose to share it with. If I have learned anything in my two years it how essential relationships are in making us complete human beings. I truly believe that if you surround yourself with loved ones who share common interests and help each other out than the path to a beautiful life has already been discovered. Time truly flies when you’re the happiest, and for me these two years went by in a breeze.

                  My plan is to continue writing as in this blog as I travel and transition back to the states, but I wanted to thank everyone who took the time to read even one entry. I found this blog to be a respite in a sometimes hectic lifestyle, and I truly appreciate the support and kind words I have received concerning my writing. Look for a new entry when I get back to the states on December 20^th, so until then suerte!

Eco-Brick Bench

            Introducing new ideas, or projects in a community is very difficult. There are so many facets that determine whether or not something is going to be successful that there is no clear indicator of how something is going to work until you try it. A good example of this is seen in the usage and production of ecological-bricks. What makes them an interesting example is that they are a relatively new idea in Paraguay, but their creations taps into a common cultural norm of reutilizing things. Paraguayans are constantly finding ways to reuse things that I would consider garbage. Got rotting boards in your house? No problem, use them to make a fence. Some shelf or door break? Get some small gage wire and rig it back up. I've even seen people deconstruct their house piece by piece only to rebuild it somewhere else. A lot of this has to do with cost and availability of materials, and yes while many things are no ubiquitous, the decades of self-reliance still prioritizes reusing stuff as much stuff as you possibly can.

             Eco-bricks are pretty simple to make. Basically you fill plastic bottles with plastic bags, wrappers, or paper products until the bottle is densely packed to the point of being hard as brick. Given the rise of plastics, especially grocery bags, soda bottles, and candy wrappers, there is a plethora of these materials all over Paraguay. The sheer amount greatly contributes to the growing problem with trash management not just Paraguay, but many other developing countries. With growing accessibility to things like plastic bottle cokes, and Nestle candy wrappers a there is a big spike in the amount of garbage individual families produce that is compounded across the country. It is amazing how much trash I produce individually. It used to be that I could fill a bag of garbage per week, but ever since I started making eco-bricks, my trash productions have been halved. Over the course of nine months I filled ten bricks. The school was able to make 49 from leftover garbage, papers, and trash thrown in the streets in just three weeks. In short these bricks are not only effective, but also easy to make and free to produce.

            The idea originated from Guatemala where an environmental NGO started, recognizing the rising costs of building materials and the ever-growing multitudes of trash, started filling up empty plastic bottles to use in building schools, benches, and other small buildings (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eco-brick). By layering the bricks, setting them in wire fencing, and coating them in cement you get yourself a pretty stable small structure. The costs are virtually nothing, helps reduce waste production, and cleans the streets. There is, however, some debate concerning the structural integrity of the bricks. If they are not densely packed then they're susceptible to crumbling. Obviously the solution is to make sure they are all in good shape before hand, but when doing this with children you're dealing with attention spans that can be shifted at the drop a hat. While from what I've seen, kids are very enthusiastic to fill up the bottles, but less inclined to pack them to capacity. Nevertheless, given the plan at the school next to my house was to build a small bench; we could overlook a lot of these less than ideal full bricks.

            The most basic design Peace Corps Paraguay has developed requires 28 bricks, a bag of cement, and about 20 regular bricks. You can buy a regular brick for a nickel, but cement costs about $12 per 120 lbs bag. That is a bit pricy, but still not over the top expensive. Bricks made in Paraguay are not that much different then bricks made anywhere else. Heavy clay soils are mixed with some chemicals, dried, and baked in a giant kiln. The problem is how fragile they are. The cheapest bricks will break if they fall from a height of a foot. It is a very labor-intensive process that has to be done with care. Eco-bricks, while useful, do still need to be flanked by regular bricks so they structure can better hold its form. In our case we decided to make a small 28 eco-brick bench, so setting the structure in wire before hand wasn't super important but building a support structure was.

            When I got to the school the day we were to build the benches we picked out a location and began digging a small trench to layer normal bricks as the foundation. We then mixed cement and started building up the bench with four layers of eco-bricks of seven across with regular bricks on the flanks. We decided to leave one side of the bench open to better demonstrate what we did. I left the morning classes feeling good what we accomplished. In the afternoon I thought all we would have to do is smooth out the cement, and fill in a few holes. When I sauntered up to the school in the afternoon, however, I saw that all students were there filling more eco-bricks with the teachers. I was informed that the bench was off center, and they wanted to extend it. I was thrilled by the enthusiasm, and quickly started digging the extension. After several hours, and 31 eco bricks later, we had our bench. We determined that having the top layer of regular bricks is a more effective way to encase the eco-bricks, and it made for a more stable seat. Ironically the extension made the bench more off center than before, but the teachers seemed thrilled.

            I have no idea whether the eco-brick bench will lead to construction of similar things in the community. What I do know is that this new idea inspired the students and teachers to work independently of me in finishing up a project I helped educate them about. It not only temporarily reduced the trash consumption of the school, but also added a new place to sit for virtually nothing. I don't see Paraguay consuming fewer plastics in the future, which leads me to believe that this type of project will continue to have legs moving forward.  Paraguayans have an inherent comprehension of how to build things and how to reutilize things. Tapping into those engrained cultural norms can be a very powerful tool in introducing new ideas no how big or small.

Monday Street and Traffic

            I spend a lot of time walking down long dusty roads. Approximately 15% (http://data.worldbank.org/indicator/IS.ROD.PAVE.ZS) of roads in Paraguay are paved. The vast majority of the paved roads are in the major cities, and the principal highways connecting those urban centers together. The number of paved roads has been steadily increasing for decades, but progress is still slow. A big part of the reason progress is so slow is the process of paving the roads themselves. I'm hardly an expert on how roads are constructed, but I am fairly confident that the method utilized here is a far cry from the standard in a more developed nation.

Monday Street is about 30 yards from my house

            I'll concede that buying the most efficient and modern road paving equipment costs lots money, and would take a lot time to arrive in Paraguay given its lack of industrial machine factories. With that being said I still find it amazing how long the process of paving a road can be. For starters, if a road is to be paved it must be worn down to a hardpan layer of dirt. There are no shortages of those roads in Paraguay, but selecting which roads will precede to the next phase of the construction process is more a matter of what political party is in charge rather than who needs it more, but I digress. The next step is cobbling the road. This task could be completed with a machine that grinds and spreads rocks, but that machine takes the place of laborers who painstakingly bash rocks with hammers and lay them on the road piece by piece. Based on my observations, a crew eight of cobblers can do a 100-meter stretch of road in one-two weeks if they're working efficiently. Once completed, a machine can actually pave the road in a matter of hours.

            The problem, however, is that getting a road paving machine is easier said than done. There are finite amount in Paraguay, and you got to have the political capital to get one, especially if you live far away from the major cities. Four months ago, O'Leary obtained one of these machines, and paved five roads in the center of town that had been cobbled years ago. Over the course of a week, most of the principal streets were paved, but the town still has a ton of cobbled and dirt roads interspersed throughout. I have to admit that overall, I was very impressed by the new paved roads. To promote the completion of the roads the Municipality hosted a bicycle race around the freshly asphalted streets, a task that would've been much more difficult on the male anatomy just a few months before. People seemed pleased by the roads, and despite my last place finish in the race, I could tell this was a positive step in the development of the town. Despite taking years to complete, it was nice to see the town progress in that way, but there are many consequences that I initially overlooked when considering the benefits of the new roads.

Plants covered in dust layer

            First and foremost is that it encourages more reckless driving. The number one non-disease related cause of death in Paraguay is motor vehicle accidents (http://www.worldlifeexpectancy.com/country-health-profile/paraguay). From 2010-2011 the number of accidents went up 100% according to our Peace Corps Safety and Security Director. While it is great that there are new roads, there is not a single new traffic light, or road sign. Even if there was, I doubt people would obey them. I say that for several reasons, first being it is illegal to drive a motorized vehicle under the age of 18, yet it is very common to see kids as young as 10 driving motorcycles to stores or down the street. It is also illegal to ride a motorcycle without a helmet; yet again walking down the street it is more ordinary to see people without helmets than with them. Lastly, Paraguay has a zero tolerance drinking and driving policy, but every weekend there is a party somewhere, and it is impractical to walk to these parties more often than not. Essentially the laws are so strict that obeying them, despite their good intention, is at time impractical leading to their blatant disregard. Why would I stop at a stop sign if no one is coming? On a similar note, I've lost count of the amount of time a cab driver runs a red light when no one is around. What about the police? Why can't they do something? Aside from the questionable motives of the police in general, if they issue a citation for every person who breaks a traffic law they would be overwhelmed by the amount of work they would need to do to process the tickets.

            If they issue a citation it’s likely that the guilty party cannot afford to pay the fine, and would simply discard the ticket as soon as the cop left. The judicial system is very rigidly structured, and lacks the efficiency and capacity to process a high volume of traffic violations. In essence the amount of resources and effort it would take to effectively enforce traffic laws would overwhelm the institutions relegated to deal with the laws. It is far easier to turn a blind eye to the problems then deal with the upheaval associated with strict enforcement. Disregarding minor traffic violations frees up the police and courts to focus on bigger issues. That being said, there is no way this country can continue to ignore this endemic problem with traffic safety.

Truck kicking up dust

            Paraguay is not going to stop building roads, and as the population continues to grow so will the number of motor vehicle accidents, thus necessitating the need for a comprehensive traffic safety system. A few months ago a group of volunteers and I did a tour of Itaipu Dam. On our tour were a British woman and her husband. Naturally we were all surprised to see this couple in Paraguay. When we asked why she was here she responded that she had been coming frequently for 20 years trying to assess the need to a traffic safety system. When she first came 20-years ago there was no need whatsoever, but now with rapidly growing population and the dramatic influx of motorcycles she said that she couldn't justify not implementing a modern traffic safety system. What is most remarkable is how despite the growing need for such a system how few roads are still paved.

            It think it is obvious to say that paved roads lead to faster speeds, and more accidents therefore necessitating infrastructural improvements for traffic safety, but 85% of all roads are still unpaved. The number of paved roads has increased at snails pace since the 1980s, but the number of vehicles has increased tenfold. Even the poorest of families can take out a loan for a motorcycle and pay monthly quotas at insane interest rates. Repossession for non-payments can take months, so it is not uncommon to see families with two or three motorcycles. Many of these poorer families live on the extremities of cities, towns, and in the countryside where paved roads don't exist. The ever-increasing amount of vehicle traffic in these dirt road communities leads to a plethora of other problems including dust erosion.

Dust cloud

            I live 2 KM away from a principal highway on a street called Monday (mun-da-u). The street is a dirt highway that goes 88 KM into the countryside before hooking left for another 45 KM until you get to another paved road. Due to its length, it is heavily trafficked by trucks carrying agricultural products from communities in the interior, personal cars, and motorcycles. The amount of traffic coupled with the importance of the road makes Monday Street a veritable quagmire of mud and dirt. When it rains the road is virtually impassible even on foot. The clay heavy soil, the lack of trees, and the hilly topography leads to countless accidents. Trucks get stuck; people slip, and the road stays that way for days. When it is dry, the vehicle traffic kicks up enormous amounts of dust that coats everything. I get made fun of all the time for having dirty cloths by people outside O'Leary. I kindly explain to those hecklers that if they come visit me they'll find out why. All my white cloths now have a reddish-brown hue to them, which is nice if all your dress socks are dirty, but not in any other situation. People's houses are covered in dirt and the vegetation has a nice layer of brown covering anything within a marginal distance from the road. The worst part about it is how common this situation is throughout the country. Although, I'll admit that Monday is one of the most trafficked paved roads I have heard of in Paraguay.

            It is easy to complain about the mud and dirt, and trust me I can do that for hours, but what is really scary is that in spite of the fact that the road is unpaved, vehicles still bolt down this road at excessive speeds. In some cases, families live 10 feet from this road, and while these is a side path, it eventually ends so you are more often than not walking on the street itself. I am absolutely amazed that I don't hear of more instances of people getting into accidents on this road. The number of children I see riding motorcycles loaded with stuff from a store, or with multiple people on board weaving between this heavy traffic is staggering. People complain, myself included, that they need to pave the road, and I agree the respiration and general health issues associated with inhaling a ton of dust is of the utmost importance, but is a paved road a better option given the frequency of motor vehicle accidents in Paraguay? If the assumption is that paved roads lead to faster traffic than paving Monday would theoretically lead to more accidents. I have no idea whether that factors into the reasons why the road is not going to paved anytime soon, but I think it should be.

            As with any developing country safety standards seem to develop after the creation of the danger. The brutality of motor vehicle accidents in the States led to the creation of laws that improved vehicle safety standards, more stringent law enforcement, and a more safety conscience population. Does that mean the same sort of things will happen in Paraguay? Ironically motor vehicle safety laws in Paraguay are in some ways more extensive than in the USA, but lack infrastructure and enforcement. I think it goes beyond that though. I've notice through my interactions with people that death is something that is intensely grieved for a short period of time, and rarely brought up again afterwards. You are hard pressed to find someone in Paraguay that doesn't know someone who died or was in a serious motorcycle accident. Despite all that death and suffering countless families have endured at the hands of a traffic accident nothing seems to change. People aren't mobilizing to demand better traffic standards. They don't seem to change their own habits either. It's one of those things that is seemingly just accepted a part of life that we all must live with. An expression that people use on a daily basis here is "así es" meaning it is what it is, or quite so. It breaks my heart that sentiment exists in place where so many have suffered losses that might of been prevented, but what hurts the most is I don't see any sign that things will change. I believe there will never bee a massive campaign to remedy this problem that is causing so much death in this country. It's just not the way things work here. I truly hope I am wrong and that over time people will stop accepting this as normal part of their existence, but I sadly don't see it changing anytime soon.

Personifying Pumps

Top of the well

            I have never lived in a place where I had to use a well. Of course I remember reading books in school that talked about the well and what happened to the farming family when it ran dry, but those stories and references were just that. I had a concept of what it meant to get water from a well and the amount of work associated with getting enough water to survive, but I didn't have a real sense of what the process entailed. Growing up, the water was always in the faucet and I didn't pay the bills, so to me water was an ever-plentiful resource that was always available whenever I needed it. I didn't view it as a commodity at all until I got a taste of what life was like with and without one.

            When I first arrived in O'Leary on that sweltering day in December, I distinctly remember taking a shower. I didn't take another one for 2.5 months after that first day. Why you ask? Because we were in the midst of a pretty severe drought, and there was no water. Julio and Iris, my host parents in O'Leary, happened to be on the municipal water supply system, but where they live is on the extreme end of the supply chain meaning that their water would be the first to stop flowing so as to meet the demand of increased usage in the center of town. For me never having lived in a home where running water wasn't readily available, it was a bit of a transition. The water would run from about 1-5 am during those first few months. That meant the toilet tank would have one flush in the morning for the 6 of us in the house. When there was no water I couldn't flush the toilet at all. After a couple of weeks I swallowed my pride and asked Mathias, my host brother, how to the flush the toilet? He looked at me with befuddlement and told me all I needed to do was fill up a bucket and pour it in the bowl after I had done my business. I felt pretty stupid after that, but it was just one of many things I was unaccustomed to. For that family the water going out happened all the time, and I am sure installing a modern bathroom for the family was pretty big deal that didn't happen that long ago. As time went on, I got used to life without a lot water, but the drought kept getting worse.

Metal Bars

            The house I lived in with Julio and his family is right next to the house of his brother and mother. In addition to the 6 people living in Julio's house there were another 8 living next door. The families shared a tap that was in between the two houses. At first, there was water throughout the day. It was a pain to carry big buckets of water for cooking, laundry, toilet flushing, and bucket baths, but there was no other option. As time went on that consistent source water started to diminish its yield. Eventually by the beginning of February there was only a light trickle that stopped flowing by 10 am. It only rained once in my first 2 months in O'Leary. The heat was intolerable, and it quickly became obvious that this wasn't a normal summer. By the middle of February, Julio and Jorge, his brother, decided enough was enough, and built a water tank to supply the two houses with consistent running water. Basically they built a tall tower out of bricks, put a several hundred liter tank on top of the tower, attached piping, and put an electric pump in the well the families shared to force the water into the tank. They were hardly the first people in the community to do this, but I could tell it was a bit of a financial strain to pull it off. For my remaining time there however, we were liquid.

            When the prospect of living on my own came up a few months later, I was told they could put in a water tank for me. The house I was going to move into, didn't have a connection to municipal water, and left me with a choice. Do I spend the money to put in running water, or do I fix up the well so I can pull up water myself? The cost difference was pretty significant, but I decided to go with the pump. Four pumps later I sit hear telling you that maybe I should of not gone the cheaper route. Little did I know at that time how much those pumps would impact my life and teach me more about perseverance than I could've ever expected.

Tank on top of my house about 20 yards from the well

            Each pump I have had in my house can be readily compared to cars and careers of professional athletes. Pump number 1 would of been a beat up jalopy. This Frankenstinian pump was the brainchild of Professor Julio, my contact and host dad. He took two rusty functioning parts from two old pumps that had broken, and fused them together to create an abomination that would cause the villagers in Mary Shelley's novel to book it to the hills. The pumped worked, but at a maddeningly slow pace, and often times wouldn't pump water at all. Julio installed that initial pump, and told me that he can only be turned on early in the morning or late at night. I asked why, and he responded," because it needs a lot of energy to work, and your electrical connection is weak." Since Julio was the electrician behind my predicament, I didn't understand why my electrical situation couldn't be improved. Until I realized that he indolently connected my power because he had other more important stuff to do. Frankenstein served his purpose well. He wasn't overly expensive, at about half the price of a new pump, but it also worked half as well. Somehow he lasted nine months before exploding. He was of like that aging athlete who was still in the fight trying to have one last chance for glory after a career riddled in injuries. When Frank died I decided I needed a new first round draft pick that would make an impact immediately and last me for the long run. That is when I bought Auger.

            Auger was like that mid-life crisis Ferrari. He was shiny, was seemingly the solution to all my problems, and ran smoother than a slip and slide covered in vegetable oil. Julio helped me install him, and from day one we were in love. Powerful, consistent, and fast he could fill my tank in 8 minutes 27 seconds flat without breaking a sweat. Life was good with Auger. His name derives from the brand of the pump. The only problem with Auger was that he was expensive, and I unwisely didn't take out insurance. In mid-April I returned from being away for a few days, and flipped on the switch to see if Auger was working his magic. I heard absolutely nothing, and ran outside only to discover that he was gone. I let out an enraged wail with a fury that I didn't know I possessed, and realized that he was gone forever. He was like that promising rookie who had a career ending injury half way through the season. It took me a long time to get over him, but after two months of pulling buckets of water by hand I gotten fed up and decided it was time to move on.

            Luck was just around the corner. A fellow Peace Corps Volunteer heard my of plight, and mentioned he had a pump, never before used, that he was willing to sell for cheap. He was like the test-drive sedan, functional, but never fully tested. His name was CJ Bomba because like Auger that was the name typed in bold lettering on the box. CJ had to wait around my house for a while as I provided extra security for him. This involved getting one of my friends to come over and help me install a metal cage top for my well, so the pump couldn't be so easily taken. I had learned my lesson from Auger, and was taking extensive precautions with CJ. My friend and I built the metal top by placing the metal cage it on the top layer of the existing bricks that made up the highest part of the well. We then cemented a new layer on top, and we were in business. We then took CJ out and put him in the well, and locked the cage. CJ worked well enough, but would time and again not pump water. I thought it was similar to the problem Frank had, but couldn't understand his inconsistency. Over time he stopped working all together. I thought it had to do with my electrical connection, but that wasn't the case. Turns out he was broken, and needed a replacement part. It was a cheap fix, but I needed some help putting him back in the well. Julio is as elusive as Bigfoot whenever I need his help, so one day I got tired of waiting decided to do it myself. I wired CJ, connected him to the tubing, and lowered him into the well. Having little to no experience in installing the pumps myself I was skeptical that I would get it to work. I held my breath as I flipped the switch on and sure enough I heard the sweet sound of water flowing into my tank. I literally jumped in the air with a fist raised in triumph when I heard that sweet sound water flowing out of the tube. The only problem was I had to reattach my tubing to my water tank, which I had taken down at the onset of CJ's problems. The next day I borrowed a rickety ladder, and put the tube back in the tank. I managed to break one the ladder rungs on the way down, but thankfully avoided injury. I was beaming with pride at my self-reliance. I was so smug about my accomplishments that I went about telling everyone how I installed CJ myself without help. The Paraguayans I talked to munificently praised me, but I knew full well that they thought I was an idiot for not knowing how to do it in the first place. Shortly after installing the tubing, however, I realized that water wasn't flowing. I had leave that day for a meeting, but figured it was the electricity again and left without a second thought that the problem might be more complicated.

Vantage point from below

            Vanity is a deadly sin for a reason, and I should've additionally built up a hell of a lot of bad Karma in the process of my gloating because upon my return from my meeting the day after I installed the pump, I realized I had not properly attached the bracing to hold the pump nozzle snugly into the tube that led to the tank. When the pump was on, the vibrations caused CJ to wriggle himself out of the tube. That explained why I could hear it working, but the water wasn't flowing. In an act of desperation I attempted to pull CJ to salvation using the extension cord attached to him, but the cord didn't hold, and he fell to his death at the bottom of a watery grave. I have to say that moment was one of the few times in my life that I felt like things were happening in slow motion. I rattled off a string of four letter words that would cause my mother to faint. Knowing that CJ was gone forever I decided my only option was to get over him quickly by buying an affordable model that would last for a couple of months, and that is where we are today.

            Learning the harsh lessons from CJ humbled me significantly when installing Hiper, again named for what it said on his packaging. He may not be the fastest, or the best but he serves his purpose and I made sure I put him in the well correctly. Personifying these pumps is really the best way to describe the tragedy that befell them. One broke, one was stolen, and one sank to the bottom. In each instance I learned something about pumps that I didn't know before. In each instance I made effort to rectify the mistakes I had made with their predecessor. I am not totally sure what this says about my Peace Corps service, but I think that the process of resolving the problems with the pumps is a nice representation of the day-to-day challenges that pop up out of nowhere. It is easy to point to language, cultural differences, and food as the things that are most difficult to deal with, but there are so many other unexpected challenges that often times prove to be the biggest learning experiences. Things like getting your haircut, flushing a toilet, buying tools or specific materials, and transportation are just a few examples of those unexpected challenges. The situations I have had with my pumps have easily been one of the biggest tests I've faced. Do I wish that I never had to deal with these pumps in the fist place? You better believe it, but the fact remains that it happened and I have a lot of stories to tell that I'm sure will be funny to me someday. Maybe.

Brazil

Iguaçu Falls

Iguaçu Falls

      It took me close to two years, and despite living a mere hour and a half from the border I finally made it to Brazil, and it was awesome! I took my last 11 vacation days and spent them visiting Iguaçu Falls in Foz do Iguaçu with my life long friend Kit, and then onto Rio De Janiero to spend a week with four other friends from back home. Thanks again, Hervas, Bohlke, Sam, and Haley for your visit. I could probably write an entire book about my time in Brazil, but I figure that thousands of people have already done that in one form or another given the touristy nature of the places I visited. All I'll say is that Rio was one of the coolest place I have been and certainly one of best cities, so put it on your list of places to go it it isn't already. I was struck by so many things when I was in Brazil, but think what struck me the most was how little I knew about it. Brazil is the 5th largest country on earth in both population and area. It has a lot of diversity, contains some of the worlds most unique ecological wonders, and still has parts that are widely unexplored. It amazes me that despite all it has to offer I could only think of a few things I knew to be Brazilian before my trip including, samba, carnival, the beaches, Christ the Redeemer statue, the flavelas (slums), and soccer. Maybe that is more than most people, but it struck me as pathetic given the size and global influence Brazil has.

       I spent a long time trying to figure out why I knew so little about Brazil. I think a lot of it has to do with the language. Portuguese is the 6th most spoken language on earth with a total of 258,604,956 speakers in 9 countries that recognize it as an official language. Of that number 201,009,622 live in Brazil for staggering 77.7% of the total (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Portuguese_language). This is a language that has roots in small European country of 16,000,000 people. By comparison America has the worlds largest population of English speakers with 58.5 of the world total (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/English_language). The difference, though, is while English is the most commonly learned second language, Portuguese is rarely promoted as an important language to learn. That mentality is likely changing given Brazil growing economy, but regardless if it wasn't for Brazil there wouldn't be much point in learning Portuguese as second language. It be like learning a Scandinavian language, cool that you can speak it, but limited in its usage. What is even more staggering is the fact that the total population of South America is roughly 399,230,000 people meaning that slightly more that half of all South Americans are Brazilians. When I hear South America mentioned, I immediately think Spanish, but even though nine countries speak Spanish in South America, compared to one that speaks Portuguese, that one country has more people then the rest combined.

View from Sugar Loaf

       While Spanish and Portuguese are both romance languages that there roots in neighboring European countries, they are different enough that someone who speaks Spanish would struggle in Brazil and vice versa. I remember meeting a few Brazilians in Uruguay when I was there last Christmas. I was better off speaking English to most of them, which is even more dissimilar, than trying Spanish. Even in Rio, I found English was more commonly spoken than Spanish, and I was frequently amazed when cab drivers would stop me and speak English after trying to Portuguese up my Spanish. Reading wise it is really similar with some words being completely different, but enough cross over to figure out the gist if you speak Spanish. What amazes me even more how the borders of Brazil and other countries seem to be a wall against language learning. The second I entered Brazil my Spanish became useless. The same can be said about Portuguese when I crossed back over to Paraguay. Most people I have met who claim to speak both really don't speak both, but rather have tendencies one way or the other while with certain words being switched in appropriate places.

View from Sugar Loaf

      Culturally, I noticed a lot of similarities between Brazil and other South American countries. The outdoor restaurants, coffee, general lay out of the cities, and a smattering of old looking buildings from colonial times were as prominent they are in other cities, but it still had a very different feel. Maybe it was because I was in Rio while they're preparing for not only the World Cup next year but also the Olympics in 2016, but it felt a lot more modern to me than other South American cities. What struck me about Buenos Aires, Montevideo, and Lima when I went there was how the modern buildings and amenities were hidden within the frame work of an old looking city. Rio struck me with a more balanced look with lots of modern looking buildings and infrastructure taking prominent positions within the backdrop of the city. It seems clear that Brazil is on the up and up, but unlike other countries that have experienced rapid development in recent decades the vibe seemed much more laid back. When I was in China, things were moving at a frantic pace to keep up with the economy. As a result the environment suffered, and at times has rattled the social framework of the country. Brazil is an economic powerhouse, but despite all it has, it doesn't seem to be growing too fast for society to keep up. Its development seems to be a much more calculated design within preexisting the social framework than other places I've been.
       It was clear to me that the country had wealth, but what was fascinating was how little it seemed to effect the the social interactions between people. All shapes, sizes and colors came off as equals even though that is not the case at all. I somehow felt that the people in Rio despite being in a major city came off as being a part of a community. A lot of that might have to do with the various neighborhoods within the city that have distinct culture identities, but I constantly had the feeling that people were enjoying their lives and their interactions with those around him. The city is riddles with juice bars that sell fresh squeezed juices of all kinds, many of which I had never heard of. There are chains, but it seemed as though most were independently owned, and that people had certain allegiances to one over the other based on the familiarity I saw with vendors and customers. Rio also has a plethora of things to do outside with extensive bike paths, public beaches, and outdoor workout stations. I was so unused to this that I almost single handedly caused several catastrophic accidents just trying to cross the bike paths. On a random Thursday afternoon I was sitting looking at the beach in Copacabana when this beefy looking man walked up to me and my buddy just to practice his English. His name was Walter, and he had been practicing for about a year. I could barely understand what he was saying, but the fact that he was a local who asked to talk with us as tourists in one of the worlds biggest cities struck me as unique. He seemed genuinely happy that we came to see his city, and proud that it attracts people there that can help him get a better sense of the world outside of it. I have to say I felt great the whole time I was there. Even though I could barely communicate I felt like people were interested in me in the same way I was interested in them.

Maracanã Stadium will host 2014 World Cup Final 

Botanical Garden

      I'll concede that I only spent a week, and only saw two places in that enormous country, but I have to say I was amazed. The balance between progress and tradition was well proportioned. People seemed like they were happy and knew how to have fun. Even the poorest people who were selling stuff on the beach did it with a small on there face. Whether that smile was genuine or not is another story, but I cannot remember how times a random street vendor, sales person, or taxi driver would ask me questions about why I came to Brazil, where I was from, or give me advice about place to go and see. I guess makes sense in a city with lots tourism for people to help each other out, but it was so unlike many other major tourist cities I had been too in the past. I never really get the impression that I wasn't welcome at any point. So often you get that tolerated vibe from locals, but thats not how I felt in Rio. Maybe it would of been different if I went someplace else in Brazil. In fact, I'm sure it would of been different, but regardless I'll always take home that I had an awesome first time in Brazil, and will definitely be going back in the future.

Education System

In previous ramblings I have discussed ad nausea about my frustrations with the school system and education in general in Paraguay. It is a topic that impacts my everyday given the focus of my projects during my service. When discussing the challenges associated with the schools amongst other volunteers, I think the principal complaints tend to key in on the lack of time in the classroom, the amount of schools cancelations, the rigidity of how things are taught, and what things are prioritized in the classroom. In my experience, the school close to my house suffers from all the aforementioned issues, but on the hole is probably slightly above the average because of the teachers there. I am not saying that they are a shining light in a sea a of darkness when it comes to being an educator, but I will say that compared to some other schools I have interacted with, they are doing a lot better at creating an educational environment for there students. It is evident that they care about the well-being of the school, and are constantly looking for ways to improve it. They still suffer, however, from a system that I would classify as broken for many reasons.
       Paraguay is one happiest countries on earth, probably because of all the days off from school, but not too long ago I was talking to Argentine while on vacation about Paraguay and what I was doing there. After getting onto the topic of schools and the education system the man I was talking to made a statement saying like, "it sounds as though ignorance is bliss." I was reluctant at the time, and still am, to concede that is the answer to the situation, but it is tough to refute that generalization. Paraguay has long history of stiff standardized education system. The first president of the Paraguay, a man named Dr. José Gaspar Rodríguez de Francia, was a proponent of isolating Paraguay from the outside world and ruled from 1813-1840. He referred to himself as the Supreme Dictator (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/José_Gaspar_Rodr%C3%ADguez_de_Francia), and micromanaged every aspect of the country from the economy to the constitution. Paraguay, given its small population and size, was easy to rule autocratically. He standardized the education system across the country essentially creating citizenry that was extremely loyal, but very limited in its knowledge of the outside world. His rule was followed by two other autocratic leaders Carlos Antonio López, and his son Francisco Solano López. In 1954 another dictator General Alfredo Stroessner ruled the country until he was overthrown in 1989. Those four men ruled Paraguay for a grand total of 86 of the 202 (42.5%) years since Paraguay gained independence from Spain in 1811. Paraguay has had a total of 57 presidents, now 58, since its foundation. That means for the other 116 years that one of those men weren’t in charge a total of 53 presidents saw office for an average term of about 2.2 years compared to a 21.5 year average for the other four men.

Looking at the numbers one could  legitimately argue that Paraguay is ruled by either a strong handed dictator, or a series of weaker presidents that are constant power struggle. This remains true to this day in lieu of last years Congressional Coup that took place last June followed by the election of strong and wealthy right-winged businessman Haracio Cartes in this April's presidential election. What all this history means for the education system I will explain in a second, but I think history shows that in Paraguay, long periods of autocratic rule are very common and typically follow some kind of destabilizing event or after a elongated period of political uncertainty. Essentially the education system teeters on this constant uncertainty. During the dictatorships education policy was set and remained more or less constant for years. In the decades in between, constant changes in government made it next to impossible to develop consistency. Think about it like this, if you're a teacher who started in 1970 you were more than likely teaching the same way, at the same school, at the same times for 20 years. Then all of a sudden the head government system is overthrown and a new president comes in for the first time in your life and starts to change stuff. It is probably pretty hard to adapt, especially given that the way you taught was based on a strictly regimented curriculum that was developed to prevent dissenting opinions. The system was supposed to teach everyone everything in Spanish even though the majority of the population, especially in poorer areas, spoke predominantly Guarani. Then all of sudden in 2002 Guarani became an official language that was now told to be taught in schools. Something that government actively tried to discourage for decades, now, all of a sudden became a requirement to all students. The system was rooted in the stability of the government and remained mostly unchanged since the last series of educational reforms took place in 1982. Since 1982 Paraguay has had 8 presidents, 2 coups, 1 presidential overthrow, and very little focus on educational development as a result. It is tough to reform education when the government lacks stability that the people can trust.

Globally Paraguay ranks near the bottom in education. According to the International Human Development Index indicators, Paraguay's mean average of education for adults is 7.7 years out of an expected 12.1. 21.9 percent of children drop out before completion of primary school (http://tomsramblingsinparaguay.blogspot.com/2013/02/miguel.html), and while education has improved statistically over the past few decades its correlation is reflected by overall global education development (http://hdrstats.undp.org/en/countries/profiles/PRY.html). The UN's Human development Index ranks it 101/182, but transparency international has its rank lower at 154/180 while the world economic forum ranks it 124/133 in terms of global competitiveness.  Not matter how you look at it, Education is not where it needs to be.

Now I'll admit that most developing country are still developing because they are poor and lack money to properly invest in education. Paraguay is no exception, but the way the system has developed over time has led to seemingly never ending struggle between the parents, teachers, and the government. For starters the entire system is nationalized. Different departments (states) are funded the same and managed the same throughout the country. The school day is  4-hours either in the morning or the afternoon with about an hour for recess. That means that the average student, Kindergarten-12, is receiving 3 hours of schooling a day. The school years runs from the end of February-November with a 2-week winter vacation in July, but that is more often than not extended to a three week vacation. The school week is supposed to be Monday-Friday, but in my entire service of almost two years I recall 1-week where the school was actually open Monday-Friday. The reason a school cancellations are typically rain, national holiday/ festival celebration, parents meeting, school maintenance, or a teacher strike.

Rain is interesting problem because of how ridiculous the concept of closing school because of it seems to me after growing up in the states. It took a huge snowstorm, or some other catastrophe to cancel school back home. The cancelation usually came when it was more dangerous to try to get kids to school than to not have school at all. In Paraguay, the logic is sort of the same in that most the roads are muddy and made difficult to pass when it is raining, but school will be canceled at the threat of rain or if it rained earlier in the day. The same goes for the cold. This year, there was an extra week of winter vacation because of the threat of cold and potential outbreak of illness. Last year, there was an influenza out break in Asunción, not the whole country, that led to an extra week of vacation. The problem is more exacerbated in the rural communities than the urban ones, but regardless if the Ministry of Education cancels school it means for the whole country. The weather, whether it is rain or cold temperatures, cause I would say on average a loss of about 14-18 days school a year. 

Paraguay has no more national holidays than we do in America, but for many of them, they are celebrated on the last day of school before the holiday itself. This can mean an entire day is canceled to celebrate one of the former dictators of the country who Paraguayan history has made a hero of, or just a day to cook a bunch of food while they kids play soccer. Some of the holidays where school is canceled or closed include two days for independence day, Chaco War Armistice Day, foundation of Asunción day, three days for Easter and Good Friday, Labor Day, Battle of Boqueron day (a siege battle during the Chaco War against Bolivia that was Paraguayan Victory), Heroes day, Teacher Day, Children's Day, Saint John the Baptist Festival, and probably a few more that I am forgetting. That adds up to roughly 13-16 days school cancelation.

Meeting of the parents commissions usually take place once a month and only cancel the afternoon classes for 2 of the 4 hours of school a day. There are probably 6 a year for grand total of 3 days lost on meetings. At the meetings the parents and teachers spend a lot of trying to think of ways to get money to maintain the school. Every year, all schools are supposed to get an allotment of money for school projects and maintenance, but it is rarely a lot, which forces the schools to do several fund raising activities. Those activities usually take place twice a year and cancel 2-3 days of school. That doesn't include the biweekly school cleanups. The teachers have scheduled time where they clean the school including hoeing the garden beds, washing the floors, wiping the windows, and sweeping every surface. Given the frequency, the schools are often immaculate and the kids are awesome at it. The frequency, however, is probably bit of overkill. I would say that the school spends at least 10 days worth of class time cleaning over the course of the school year. You could probably cut that number in half in terms of necessity, but most schools, particularly small ones, don't have people who come clean so that work has to be done by the students.

The last, and easily the most frustrating, reason for school cancellation are strikes. Since I arrived, I have been Paraguay for parts of 3 school years. I would say conservatively the average amount of days lost to strikes is about 7 annually, but this year blew that number out of the water. As of right now, the school right by my house has lost about 14 days of school due to strikes, and they aren't even on the extreme end of that spectrum. Some schools have not had class since the end of the 3-week winter vacation 3-weeks ago. The most common reason for strikes are teachers wanting higher salaries, but that is rarely the only reason. Pensions, maternity leave, upkeep costs, retirement age, and a plethora of other issues are common reasons for striking and to make matters more complicated, the teachers are divided up in between 5-7 different unions depending on region, type of school, and other random factors that nobody can seem to explain to me. Recently the big issue has revolved around retirement age. As it stands now a teacher makes roughly $350 a month per turn they teach. If you teach only one class in the morning your monthly salary is about $350. That number is doubled if you work in the afternoon as well. To retire you need to work a minimum of 25 years. A reacher  can retire one year earlier for child you have for up to three children even though you get 3-months maternity leave when having the child. I will admit that I am not 100% certain that these are the exact laws, but I have had several teachers tell me several different things,and  I get the impression that nobody really knows. As it stands right now, the government wants to raise the minimum age to retire to 28 and cut retirement benefits, sort like what happened in the states recently, That caused an uproar and the teachers are subsequently not teaching.

It is immensely frustrating working within this system. For the past month, I have been waiting to do some activities at the school, but every time I talk to someone about doing something they inform that the strike is still on for an unspecified amount of time. One of the draws that attract Paraguayans to teaching are that it is a stable job, hard to get fired from regardless of performance, and the easiest professional certifications to obtain. It is a great social symbol to be a teacher, and this day I see 30-year-old people refer to their teachers as professor or professora despite not having been taught by them for 25 years. It is a very important position, but also an extremely difficult institution to work with at times.

At the end of the day the system reflects the inconsistencies of the government since the foundation of the republic. The kids are ones that end up suffering within a system where minor changes cause an uproar. Being educated in an extremely standardized system breeds generations of people who struggle to think outside the box, or balk at even the most minor changes. On numerous occasions I'll be in front of a class of kids and say something like how do you say the color rojo (red) in English? Blank stares follow until I'll say the answer and have the class repeat multiple times. I then ask the exact same question after I had just said the answer and repeated it only to have the same blank stares I saw the first time I asked the question. Change to education will forever be a slow process here. Even as technology advances and teachers are more resources they don't mean anything if they don't how to utilize those tools. My school just got a computer. Maybe one the teachers has some semblance of knowledge to be able to use it, but not very effectively. I guess I am writing this because I am frustrated. I think seeing, living, and working around a school here has made me appreciate my own educations and the opportunities it allowed me to have that led me to where I am right now.

Cuidad del Este

Arial View

         Over the past few months I have found myself more frequently visiting Paraguay's second largest city appropriately called Cuidad del Este (City of the East). Now I'm sure most of you are thinking, why is called Cuidad del Este (CDE)? The answer is as obvious as the name of the city itself. It used to be called Cuidad del Stroessner during the dictatorship of Alfredo Stroessner (1954-1989), but after he was thrown out the new regime renamed the city Cuidad del Este simply because it is located on the easternmost border with Brazil separating the two countries by the Paraná river. The fact the city is named after a simple observation says a lot about the culture and the influence it has in the region. It is a city, and it is in eastern Paraguay. It is the capital of Alto Paraná, probably the wealthiest department (state) of Paraguay, and perhaps is also the economic backbone of the country. It is also incontestably the black market capital of South America conveniently located at the heart of what known as the dangerous TBA (tri-border area) shared between Brazil, Paraguay, and Argentina.

Street View

            Cuidad del Este is 79 KM from Juan E. O'Leary, where I live, and is the economic hub of the region. With a population of roughly 321,000 it is really the only major urban center outside the capital region surrounding Asunción. The city was founded principally as a regional economic hub for trade with Brazil that was true until the 1970s when Itaipú dam, the worlds largest producer of hydroelectric power, started construction only a few kilometers north of the city. The dam meets most Paraguay's energy demand with enough left over to sell the excess to Brazil for about $300,000,000 annually. It is by far the most diverse city in Paraguay as well. When walking the streets in the center of the city it is common to see hoards of Brazilians, Argentines, Taiwanese, Koreans, Lebanese, and various Europeans wondering the vast shopping areas that encompass almost the entirety of the city center. The city has a mosque, various pagodas, and hand carved murals depicting images of the indigenous people who now make a living selling handcrafted goods on colorful blankets on the sidewalks. The dichotomies of the indigenous people’s lives are very conspicuous, but that is all a part of the culture of the city.

Shopping Monalisa one of the biggest and fanciest malls in CDE

            If I had to best describe what Cuidad del Este is actually like I would start by saying that it is unlike any place I have ever been. The knock off clothing, electronics, and souvenirs, to me, made me think of the giant open-air markets in China, but with a distinct Paraguayan feel. The entire city is like a giant Bazaar. The streets are filled with vendors in their booths. The sidewalks are narrow, and the  juxtaposition between the street vendors and enormous shopping malls that sell the exact same stuff is unlike anything I have ever seen. The only difference between the street vendors and the malls are that the malls sell the same stuff for more money, but also for "guarantee" of authenticity. The streets are crowded with people on motorcycles ducking in and out of traffic. Many of the shopping malls have been around for decades and now look more like fronts for smuggling than a legitimate businesses. The infrastructure of the city is an urban planning nightmare overcrowded with buses, cars, and trucks. I think the word chaos is an understatement in describing the appearance of the city.

Bridge connecting the Brazilian City Foz do Iguaçu

            The amazing thing about the city is how little is written about it despite its regional importance. This is the entire wikipedia article about Cuidad del Este: 

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ciudad_del_Este. 

From a tourist perspective, it is unlikely that you will be able to find anything that describes the city and what there is to do in any kind of detail. Most of the things that I have read are pretty much descriptions of how to get out of the city on your way to see Iguazú Falls that lie in between Brazil and Argentina. If you find yourself in Cuidad del Este, and you're looking to buy cheap electronics you're in luck, but other than that I can't think of any other incentive to go there. Here is a recent travel article from the New York Times about the passage to Iguazú Falls in case you haven't gotten a good impression of the city already: 

http://frugaltraveler.blogs.nytimes.com/2013/04/24/taking-the-paraguayan-route-to-iguaz-falls/?_r=0. 

            Cuidad del Este is not exactly on its way to becoming a major tourist destination anytime soon if that wasn't obvious enough already. The fact that the biggest tourist draw doesn't even lie within the city itself should be enough of an indication of the lack of things to see. Despite it being deficient in common tourist attractions, I have to say that Cuidad del Este is one of, if not the, most interesting places I have been for reasons that I still cannot explain sensibly.

            I think best article I have read that sums up Cuidad del Este is this old piece written 15 years ago in the New York Times: 

http://www.nytimes.com/1998/03/15/world/in-paraguay-border-town-almost-anything-goes.html

Statue of Former Taiwanese/Nationalist Chinese Leader Chiang Kai Shek

Like the article says, the entire culture of the city is dependent on counterfeit goods and technology. The Asian population has thrived in the city as a result of the small personal electronics that they can get relatively cheaply and turn around for big profits in the larger Brazilian and Argentine markets. A lot of the time, the counterfeit goods work just as well as the real deal, but cost significantly less. I have personally been skeptical of buying stuff in Cuidad del Este, but I have yet to meet someone who bought a camera, computer, or external hard drive there that said it was fake or didn't work. Selling these goods is really the only major industry the city has. If it weren’t for the bootlegging of technology starting with assembly of the parts the city would have no real industry. Paraguayan's have to pay a 10% tax mark-up on all goods they buy from the shopping malls while foreigners receive discounts of up to 20%. Things are almost always priced in American Dollars (USD) or Brazilian Reals (Rs.). If you ask for prices in Guaranís (Gs.), the Paraguayan currency, people have to bust out a calculator and often times screw you over on the exchange rate. To reiterate the businesses are primarily employ Paraguayans. The law forces these malls to charge Paraguayans more money to buy things there, and prefers not to operate in their currency. The place is absolutely fascinating.

            As mentioned in the article above, thousands of people decided to settle in Cuidad del Este once Itaipú Dam was finished. The completion greatly increased the population of the city as thousands of families moved to the region as the dam was being constructed. What came as a result, however, was not a formal economy based on something like manufacturing or banking, but rather as a black market hub for all things illegal. Measuring the economic importance of the city to Paraguay is all but impossible given the illegal nature of what goes on there. When calculating GDP or any other measure of economic progress the formulas used do not normally account for things like drugs, counterfeiting, or arms dealing. That pretty much makes up the entire city's economy, so nobody really has exact figures about how much money is flowing through the city. Paraguay is also one of the most corrupt counties in South America, so it makes sense why these types of business practices exist and thrive. With essentially no intervention from the government it is easy to grease enough palms to maintain the status quo.

             Despite all the hype regarding the illegal nature of the city itself however, I have to say that I personally don't feel that I am in any kind of danger when I go there. For most part, the city is a bunch of people who work at legitimate looking businesses just trying to make a living. People casually walk the streets, buy their goods, and take public transportation. The city doesn't have any museums, nice parks, or noticeable cultural hubs, but I say thats all a part of the charm. Now would I ever advocate going there just to see it? I'd have to honestly say no, but if you happen to be in the region it definitely worth a look. I think the city epitomizes the definition of free market capitalism. There is nowhere else on earth have I ever been to or ever heard of that was a city built around shopping malls surrounded by open air booths selling the same stuff they have in the malls right across the street. It may not be the prettiest city, heck it might even be the ugliest city I've ever been to, but there is something about being there that stands out, and cannot help but think when I am there that I am in this incredibly unique place that is unlike anything else in the world.