Downtown Asuncion, with it’s central square and Panteon de los Heroes, government buildings, museums, and waterfront (being developed) is a pleasant place to walk around. Life in the parks is all about securing matte and herbs for the national yerba mate tea drink, terere, seen everywhere. Herbs added to the basic tea help with every ailment under the sun.

Our goal of flying into Asuncion was to visit world famous Iguazu Falls on the tri border corner of Brazil. Paraguay and Argentina. It is one of those places on the continent that travelers should make an effort to see. The falls are higher than Niagara and close to 250 cascades span over 3 kms. in a horseshoe shape of the Iguazu River. The grandeur of the falls is easily appreciated by hiking miles along the edge in the well presented and maintained park on the Brazilian side. Taking the bus from Paraguay we spent the day in Brazil enjoying the falls and national park. The wonders keep unfolding as one hikes along the edge. Magnificent vistas from a distance, from above, below and so close to the torrent that you have a misty shower and feel the earth rumbling beneath your feet.

Paraguay is divided into 2 distinct regions. The hot steamy eastern jungles are in contrast to the stark, dry spiny wilderness of the northern Chaco. East of the Rio Paraguay is rolling lush farmlands while to the west and north is the Humid palm Chaco leading up to the dry thorny northern region. The Chaco, making up half of the country goes on and on for hundreds of miles. We know as we travelled from one end of the country to the other. Paraguay is a country that is off the tourist track and for this reason it was fun to visit. Your presence in small towns stirs curiosity. People aren’t used to travelers so there aren’t the usual scams, like in surrounding countries. Not burned out on hordes of tourists the people are friendly and helpful.

All eyes turned towards forgotten Paraguay in 2008 when a former bishop (accused of fathering 3 children with several different women) was elected to the presidency; ending a 6 decade reign of corruption by the Colorado Party, the longest unbroken term of power ever in the continent. Lugo promises to represent the masses and stamp out corruption, in a country where bribery is the name of the game. We’ll see. This proud nation is happy to tell you about their 2 officially spoken languages, indigenous Guarani and Spanish, their ‘futbol’ soccer team, and how their beef melts in your mouth. As vegans the continual beef boasting fell on deaf ears. We met one wonderful family of vegetarians in Concepcion who felt the same. They told us of the high incidence of cancer and heart disease. Seems that the cows, cows and more cows seen in every field have taken their toll on the health of Paraguay.

Ciudad del Este, near Iguazu Falls, is nicknamed the Supermarket of South America. Mall after mall, shop after shop is filled with knock offs and real name brands and consumers bustling about in shopping frenzy hoping for the deal of the day. Not being shoppers we moved on, our shopping bags empty. We ran into another frenzy happening over the whole of this Catholic continent, Santa Semana or Holy Week. We had hoped to take in a massive nighttime procession lit by thousands of candles but found that all the rooms were booked and anything remaining was listed at exorbitant prices. That fact plus the hordes of noisy holiday goers sent us scurrying north to Concepcion.

A wild northern frontier town, the main roads were only paved less than 10 years ago. Rugged and ragged this town has a lively night life as everyone promenades through the main streets hoping for some action. Little stands selling egg burgers and beef of all shapes line the sidewalks. It has a hectic feel as ‘wanna be’ fast food restaurants and ice cream parlors help plump up the carnivores even more. Not being on any sort of tourist route everyone was fascinated by our presence and was extremely helpful and friendly. What exactly is a vegan traveler anyways? Must be some sort of alien. We had lots of fun.

One of our goals was to catch a boat north along the Rio Paraguay. We asked and asked and finally walked down to see the rickety boat tied up on the muddy riverbank. The deck hands weren’t sure when or if the boat was going north. Walking down to the river the second day we returned with the same confusion and decided it wasn’t in the cards. Barely making it through the roads the following morning by bus we realized that had we gone by boat we would have been marooned for possibly weeks; as the dirt roads across the Chaco disappear in the rainy season. The bus felt like it was on a railway track with water on both sides. We were dropped off at a gas station in the middle of nowhere completely surrounded by ankle deep mud. The bad news: the only bus to take you north was ‘maybe’ coming by in 5-6 hours. Wanting to make it up to the Mennonite colony of Filadelfia before dark I started asking then pleading anyone unfortunate enough to drive up for gas, if they would mind a couple of extra passengers. Finally a strange conglomeration of folks in a truck looked at the mud, looked us up and down, looked at the $10 in my hand and decided to take pity on us. In we piled. We talked and kept them entertained for hours until we came to infamous Filedelfia.

Over 15,000 Mennonites live in 3 communities in the northern Chaco. Canadian, and Russian Mennonites were invited by the government in the 1920’s to settle in exchange for religious freedom and self government. Believing they were moving to a lush paradise they soon realized the harsh reality of the Chaco and a large percentage of the settlers succumbed to diseases, starvation and thirst. Not giving in to the “Green Hell” these hardy souls persevered and today are thriving business people, supplying most of the cooperative dairy products to the whole of Paraguay.

Thinking we would end up in a remote settlement we were shocked to see the wide sand and mud lined streets full of shops and a big general store where the peaceful German speaking Mennonites barter for items rather than paying in hard cash. The only buses up here leave in the middle of the night from 15 miles back on the highway. Remote regions of Paraguay don’t have a lot of transportation options. At a little cafe near our hotel we met a man heading north to open up yet another enormous ranch for a Brazilian investor. Seeming constantly on the move, off we went the following morning into the real no man’s land of northern Chaco. Miles and miles of the same thorny desert finally opened up to a little muddy town near Fortin Infante Rivole, Route 9. We settled into the only hotel in town and went looking for vegetables to cook for dinner. There was so much mud that we couldn’t move. We hitched a ride to the store, then another, and finally up to our eyeballs in mud decided to leave on the bus that night at 3 a.m.. This began one of our strangest border crossings ever.

First we had to check out of Paraguay 12 hours before we left and check into Bolivia 80 kms. after the official border. The check point was a rough looking remote army tent city. We knew we were in trouble when the person in front of us slipped the officer a bottle of booze. Danny vs. Arnie. A spitting image of Danny DeVito with a nasty attitude gazed up at Arnie Schwarzenegger towering over him. Intimidated he glared at us, growled, and proceeded to impatiently tell us why he wasn’t going to let us into his country. He pulled out a list of entry requirements starting with a 2×3 photo with a RED background, first time in 10 years! It got worse from there. He then grabbed our partially filled forms, wadded them up and threw them on the ground, declaring that we were ‘estupidos’!

Joseph removed himself from the situation and never said another thing from the corner. I let ‘Danny’ be the big man in charge, and pleaded with him to call his supervisor. Things looked bleak. Eighty miles from the border, in a mosquito infested military tent outpost and the same bus that was impatiently waiting for us wouldn’t return for another 24 hours. I started hauling out papers from my bag: an old airline e-ticket, a receipt for a suitcase we bought, the last page of a living will with email addresses and official looking signatures. I hoped he didn’t see the note ‘scrap paper’ on the back side. He lit up and started a file for us. His boss called back and told him to “Let Them In!” We paid our $135 each in cash and ran to the bus. Everyone cheered when we entered. We smiled and breathed a large sigh of relief. Welcome to Bolivia!

And so it goes…………………………………..Next it’s all up from here!. Up to the high Andes Mountains of Bolivia. Until next month Keep Smiling and remember to pause and listen for the music of your soul. It is always there … waiting to be enjoyed. We are glad you stopped by. Thanks for your emails. It cheers us when someone from Monkey Bay, Malawi ( first time in 2 years) writes us to say, “Remember me?” I am enjoying following your travels. Please keep writing. Take care!