Fresh Meat

Saturday 25.08.07

On Thursday night sometime during sleep, my left foot had been bitten by an insect, and for the last couple of days had been swelling slowly and causing a bit of discomfort. The creature, named Mbarigüí in Guaraní, the language of the indigenous group of the same name, is a sandfly that lives in the region, and a known vector of the disease Leishmaniasis. Sharing a dormitory with some Irish lads, i awoke at the sound of them returning at 6am a little south of sobriety and discovered (after hopping to the bathroom) that my foot now resembled a blown-up pink rubber glove. Time for an anti-histamine injection, I found out once daylight hit, and once the un-pleasantries were over and done with, said foot began to deflate again. At night, a group of us went out for a Parrillada, the Argentinean equivalent of a mixed grill, and on offer aside from the usual meats were Latin American specialities Morcilla, a type of black pudding, and cow's tongue.

It was a very cold and wet day on Sunday as i left for Paraguay, just over the river actually, to a town called Ciudad del Este. Unable to share the title of having the grandest waterfall in the world, Ciudad del Este nevertheless receives several consolation prizes, such as: "Biggest power output out of any hydroelectric project in the world" (Itaipu Dam); "The grandest waterfalls in the world that no longer exist" (Siete Quedas - drowned by Itaipu); and my personal favourite, "Biggest Black Market in South America".

I was delighted to find that about ₲4500 (Guaranís) were equal to AUS$1, and so armed with a wad of currency that would make Pablo Escobar proud, i was ready for Paraguay. My hotel room, situated near to the bus station in case of a required quick exit, was as much of a disappointment in looks as it was in price. I left again as soon as I could to explore the centre of town.

Ciudad del Este on a raining and cold Sunday afternoon was almost completely deserted. As I waited for the bus, a stray dog wandered by me, to stop and tear at a full plastic bag amid a pile of rubbish. When my transport arrived, I leaped a full metre over a puddle from curb to lowest step. I was bemused upon noticing the floor was made out of wood palings, as if someone had encased their back patio in metal, stuck some wheels on and taken it for a drive. It was so bleak outside i failed to recognise the centre of the city, and upon querying the driver, he let me out so i could catch one back in the other direction. I could have been forgiven. The centre of town was boarded and shut up as if the day didn't exist. People gathered in tiny pockets here and there, and occasionally a car passed, but otherwise all was strangely silent. Wandering through an open door covered in Korean writing, I discovered an empty Korean restaurant. Apparently it, like the rest of the city, was closed but thankfully they decided to feed me.

I wandered my neighbourhood some more, watching poor families crowded under awnings or around open fires on bare concrete. Stray animals - dogs, cats and chickens nosed about in relative harmony while drawn plastic sheets over fences and against walls amidst piles of rubbish suggested their use for habitation. Eventually, i chanced upon the stadium for the local football team, 3 de Febrero, and i paid ₲10,000 for a place on the concrete bleachers. The stadium was in a poor, dilapidated state, rusted through and crumbling and the carpark littered with refuse and the large shells of hundreds of expended fireworks. Under the stadium lights I had finally found life in Ciudad del Este, albeit less than 100 souls, as the local team played Guaraní, a team from Asunción. Although i saw no goals scored, it became apparent the locals were to pull off a victory, though i was far too busy hunched and over trying to stay warm and comfortable on the cold concrete to care.

As the weather slowly but surely improved on Monday morning, i caught public transport in the direction of Itaipu Dam. The whole city, passing by through the grimy windows of the bus, seems to be covered completely in red soil. It was all over the floors of the buses, up the sides of cars and piled up in heaps on the sides of the roads. I knew we were getting close to the dam when legions of high-tension towers appeared everywhere, like menacing steel robots marching over the horizon. I learned in the free guided tour that the project, shared by Brasil and Paraguay, generates the most power out of any hydroelectric plant in the world, though it is no longer the largest. The spillway alone, used only to regulate the water level, can pump out water equal to 40 Iguazu Falls. Its eighteen turbines located deep in the bowels of the structure, generate such a surplus for Paraguay that it sells most of its power to its partner. Brasil - one of the world's biggest countries in size, population and economic output, gets 25% of its energy needs from this source alone.

This time, the centre of Ciudad del Este was teeming with life, and stalls set up on every flat surface that wasn't a vehicle thoroughfare. The goods for sale were not so much duty free as they were dirt cheap; not so much bargain basement as they were clever fakes; and not so much cheap imitations as they were stolen. It was a consumer assault. Fake football shirts towered above mobile phone accessories; pirated DVDs made bedfellows of butterfly knives and knuckle dusters; while the power tools and watches leered at the rugs and apparel. Malls filled with electronics goods opened out to the streets, people desperately attempted to sell socks by the handful, while the cologne salesmen hinted at the purchase of animals down in a place i dared not tread. The beckoning, the pushing, the haggling, the poverty and the struggle rushed and fell and changed hands in a flurry and a whisper, and most consumers would cross back into Brasil by day's end.

Only a short time passed before i caught the bus to Asunción, the nation's capital. My ₲40,000, six hour ride turned out more comfortable than expected, and the doughnut-shaped crusty pastries and hot, ultra-sweet tea sold en route for only ₲1000 each were a bonus. I settled into my new hotel overlooking a park, Plaza Uruguaya, and relished the fact I was completely alone in this place.