Time Flies

For those of you who with puppy dog eyes look several times each day at the calendar on your desk counting down the days, hours, and even minutes until I come home, have no fear: we’ve reached the half-way mark of my sojourn of service in Paraguay. Seven months have already quickly passed since I left, and Lord-willing seven more will pass before I return home to my own and really-beloved United States. Although it’s too early for me to get sentimental about leaving Paraguay, the day of my homecoming approacheth and the time of my teaching here flyeth by.

Thankfully and with many of God’s graces, so far everything has gone well for me. I haven’t missed anything of great import at home, but have gotten to learn a brand new culture and way of life far away from home. Sometimes I really dream about going home and giving huge, long hugs to my family and friends, but other times I realize that I’m living a dream here in Paraguay, too. Be that as it may, I’m confident that God is calling me back to the U.S. this upcoming December. Depending on whether I can work in Ohio or not, I may be there with my family or in DC with my university friends. Lord-willing I’ll return to university to study for a masters degree in some manner of theology in August or September 2009. After that, who knows? Marriage? A job? A vocation? I’ve got a lot to discern. Every day I’m learning that I’ve got to trust in God for everything I am and everything I have; the day-to-day and long-term plans are all in His hands.

The Political Process and Election Day

The Political Process:

Although the political process has recently culminated with the national elections, I’ve been witness to the political process since the first day I arrived. At that time seven months ago, already there was plenty of infighting among the parties themselves to establish their candidates through the primary elections. Political posters lined the walls of unkempt buildings and hastily but well-hand-painted murals allured voters to support those candidates who could print and glue up the most paper or empty the most gallons of paint in the race. This tendency continued throughout the generals elections: as old posters got wet or torn down, new ones were pasted up, and when the rugrats representing one party graffitied the mural of another, it was fixed again and painted over many times. For months the city was awash in a sea of red, blue, and green, painted or plastered tit-for-tat political advertising and bickering.

The general population, too, represented well this sea of opinion and political fighting. I think many Paraguayans like the elections because it means they’ll get a crummy new t-shirt or cardboard hat free of cost. Nearly every street vendor or walking homeless person, and in fact many street vendors who are probably walking homeless people, too, wore new bright white t-shirts that supported the major candidates. They weren’t nice well-knit t-shirts, by any means, but instead the single-stringed white variety a normal person would wear as an undershirt. Although they were poor quality, however, their message was loud and clear for one party or for another and those who wore them seemed content enough to have some new strings.

As an American witnessing new democracy in action, the funniest aspect of the political campaign was seeing the party cars that drove down side the small side streets and through the large avenues that blared party music. Each candidate had a prerecorded message championing their candidacy along with a bite-sized jingle. Lugo, for example, had a song called “Lugo Tiene Corazon” or “Lugo Has Heart” that I can sing for you when I get back. These travelling propagandizers blared their songs and made their political promises seemingly at all hours of the day, hoping to win the votes of la gente with the big-old speakers and unforgettable speals.

Election Day

It’s already been almost an entire week since election day, and the shock of the elections still hasn’t worn off. Before I go into results, though, I’ll describe the day itself. The elections were held last Sunday, April 19th, all across Paraguay in a sort of quasi-national holiday. The Paraguayan government prohibits the sale of alcohol on election day along with the meetings of any social or religious groups, so the mundanos, or those from the world, couldn’t drink on the day and los cristianos couldn’t go to church. Our own meeting at the Apostolic Christian Church was, along with others across the country, was cancelled so that people could claim no excuse not to vote. Nationwide the method apparently worked, because nearly two-thirds of eligible voters turned out in the election.

Election day itself was, thankfully, quiet and peaceful. Vans, buses, and other vehicles that the political parties sponsored slowly and methodically canvassed neighborhoods to carry their own party faithful to the voting booths. Some parties even reimbursed cross-country bus tickets so that those who had moved far away from their registered voting locale could return home to support their party in the election (think of the Republican Party buying me a plane ticket from DC so that I could go home to vote for them in Ohio! What an idea…) Needless to say, many people from church took advantage of the free trip to go home to San Pedro on the other side of the country and vote.

When the final results were tallied up, the former bishop of San Pedro, Fernando :Lugo, was declared the winner of the presidential election with around 42 percent of the vote. Thankfully, the elections were quick, clean, clear, and cut sharply. Lugo’s win is historic, ending the longest-running national political machine in world history; after 61 years in power, a former man of the cloth has dethroned the ruling and firmly-established Colorado party from executive power. This win represents real change for Paraguay, and the upcoming months will see an unprecedented transition of democratically-elected power in this developing nation. Although many disagree with Lugo as a bishop running for office or think of him as a seedy tool of the left, there’s no doubt that he will breath a breath fresh air into the Paragauyan government when he takes office in August. I had the chance to visit downtown last Monday, the day after the elections, and it seemed as if the entire city had a new spirit about it. The corruption of the Colorado had finally been purged, and the city felt like it was breathing new life for the first time in decades.

For an interesting discussion of Lugo’s now in-limbo position of authority as a Catholic bishop, check out this Catholic canon lawyer´s commentary and insight ­­­­. The steps that the Roman Catholic Church now takes to deal with Lugo’s situation will reveal much about the Church itself, and will no doubt have a huge impact on Paraguay, whose current president-elect is a former/still sort of bishop.

The Issues

The Issues:

Now that I’ve covered the three major candidates, I’ll move on to talk a bit about the main issues in Paraguayan politics. In the social realm, debates over abortion and gay rights are uncontroversial because of Paraguay’s conservative culture just like questions of environmental stewardship and foreign warmongering are dead on the spot because of Paraguay’s poverty. Even without these core issues that consume American politics, however, Paraguayans still find plenty to argue about and plenty of things over which to form many unique party platforms.

Security and Order
As I’ve already mentioned, the drastic changes in national and local security resulting from the power vacuum after the fall of the dictatorship have had a huge impact on Paraguay. For a nation accustomed over several decades to exacting law enforcement and firm authority, the current lack of security appears to be a blatant lack of government intervention and help. On a national scale, the problems are immense. In the north of the country, multi-millionaire thugs hire private armies to protect their drug-growing and drug-exporting estates in blatant defiance of the government’s drug laws. In the east of the country, a thriving black market of drugs and arms and every other international vice thrives because of government ineffectiveness and corruption. On the local level, too, it’s every man for himself in Paraguay. If you’re walking around at night, you can expect to get mugged. If you leave your house open, you can expect to get robbed. For that reason, no one is out on the streets after seven or eight at night and everyone keeps everything locked up all the time. Under the dictatorship, if your neighbor’s chicken laid an egg on your doorstep you returned the egg politely. Today, however, you can’t let your chickens loose without being afraid someone will steal them. People want their chickens to go free, though, and from the opinions I’ve gathered from many folks I’ve talked to, would pay the price of keeping quiet under another dictatorship to see it happen.

Itapu
Some thirty years ago under the order of the Stroessner dictatorship, Paraguay partnered with Brazil to build the Itapu Dam, until very recently the largest power-generating dam in the world. Because the project was funded by Brazil, Brazil called and continues to call all the shots in the management of the Paraguayan dam project. Paraguay, in turn, has continually gotten screwed by the deal; first because of al the Paraguayan land taken away by the flooding of the dam, and now by Brazil’s continued exploitation of the dam’s energy (all of Paraguay’s energy needs can be covered by only one and a half of the nearly dozen and a half power-producing turbines, so the rest of the energy goes at bare-minimum cost to Brazil).

Throughout the years since the completion of the dam, the Paraguayan government has come up with all sorts of failed plans to gain more control over the dam, making all sorts of unfulfilled half-promises along the way that have only managed to demonstrate more and more through the years the government’s complete ineffectiveness. What makes matters worse is that, while the dam could cover electricity nearly free of cost for all of Paraguay, the cost of electricity for normal Paraguayans is still very high. Thus, the ineffectiveness of the government in dealing with the Itapu project and the still-high cost of energy give many Paraguayans good reason to believe that the government is very corrupt with much of the money generated from the dam going into the private bank accounts of high-ranking officials. The project stinks with corruption, and the Paraguayan people are tiring of the decades-old smell.

Health Care
If I were Paraguayan, I certainly would never complain about the costs of health care in Paraguay. A visit to the doctor only costs about five dollars, and two cavities can be filled in by a dentist for about forty dollars. Worries about the rising costs of health care and sky-rocketing health insurance bills seem to me a world away in a place where monthly coverage costs about ten dollars. Still, though, I’m only an American who’s living in Paraguay; for the average Paraguayan health care is an important and costly necessity of life, sinking budgets and worrying families to no end. Thus, one of the political issues in Paraguay is health care. Paraguay’s next-door neighbor, Argentina, offers universal health care for all her citizens. I’m not sure how effective Argentina’s system is, but Paraguayans seem to idolize it as a utopian system where everyone’s health needs are taken care of by the government. This ideal, when coupled with the ineptitude of the Paraguayan government to provide the goods for really any one, makes health care an important and pertinent political issue.

Jobs and the Economy
Paraguay is a nation of immense possibility. The facts that the land is rich, the climate is useful for productivity, and the geographic location is next to Argentina and Brazil, the two largest consumer markets in South America, offer countless occasions for economic growth and achievement. One only needs to look at the model of success in Mennonite cooperatives and farms to realize to the immense economic possibilities in Paraguay. The reality, however, is that for many Paraguayans work is no sure thing. Living day to day means scraping by without any faithful work or means of providing for basic necessities. In our congregation of under one hundred members, for example, there are now at least a dozen able men (some with large families) who don’t have steady incomes. Even for those in good health and good mind, it is often difficult to find reliable work. Pay is low, the minimum wage laws are unenforced, and those that can find work are easily taken advantage of. The lack of jobs and stagnant Paraguayan economy is, to say the least, one of the greatest needs in this country and one of the political issues that touches many Paraguayan very closely.

Corruption
Corruption, finally and unequivocally, is the most serious issue facing the Paraguayan political system. The establishment has been established so long that its structures and systems have nearly rotted completely through, with nearly every Colorado statesman or stateswoman accused of everything from bribery to stealing government monies to drug trafficking. What makes things even worse is that the very system allows such crimes and abuses to go on abated, since it’s illegal in Paraguay to convict any member of the national Congress of a crime while in office. Thus, while the poorest of the poor go on struggling to make ends meet, the richest of the rich and those with connections in political power continue on without end stealing government money and taking part in underhanded government deals and even drug trafficking. For these reasons and so many more, the Paraguayan political system is in need of a lot of redemption.

Politickin´in Paraguay

As a former government major and current political junky, I’d be completely amiss to pass an entire year in Paraguay— a year, coincidentally, that will see the first national presidential elections in five years—without ever talking once about the current political situation. And so, in honor of the national political elections that will take place tomorrow, I’ll go through a summary of the current Paraguayan political situation, the major candidates in the election tomorrow, what are the major concerns and voter issues (hint: abortion is not one of them. In a nearly all-Catholic country, el aborto remains, blessedly and wonderfully, a non-issue in the hearts and minds of the people), and what democracy looks like in a developing country. I’m doing my best to surmise and summarize everything I’ve seen, heard, and learned from the papers, people, and culture, so I cannot pretend to be authoritative in fact or unbiased in opinion. It’s long and might bore you if you don’t like politics, political philosophy, theology, or other cultures.

On the Ground: The Paraguayan Political Situation

First, a quick political primer on Paraguayan politics: The nation was governed up until 1989 by the second-longest running dictatorship in world history under a certain General Alfredo Stroessner. His was the brand of authoritarianism that people didn’t mess around with: you vote for the other guy, you go to jail; you protest, you end up missing; you do something wrong, there’s a swift and terrible recompense. After the dictatorship fell, the leftovers of the general’s Colorado political party remained in national and presidential power without any of the difficulties or obligations of formal tyranny. So-called free democracy took the place of the well-committed despotism, and Paraguayan society “opened up” to all the bad elements of a society completely bereft of traditional authority. Because criminals no longer get shot for stealing the first time, there is a lot more stealing today and everyone has built high fences around their homes. Because prostitutes are no longer hidden away in the dungeon for selling themselves, you can buy one openly on the street for the price of a good cup of coffee.

Although the strict rule of law and conservative society under the dictatorship has come to an abrupt end, the basically one-party self-feeding rule of the Colorado Party and blatant simony of the connections-based political system has continued without flinching. Your position in the government is not based on your skill or talent, but rather on the person you know and how you know them. To the victor belong the fiscal and political spoils in every election and level of government, and on the national level nearly every executive victor is Colorado. There’s a lot of support, too, for this deeply established “democratic” system. Those in all varieties of public jobs depend on the Colorado party for their positions, so public school teachers, police officers, and nearly every other government official is eager to and must, if they like their work, vote Colorado. It was no surprise for me to see one of the sisters in our church with a relatively good job as a school principal campaigning openly in the street for the Colorado party. Her job and livelihood depend in large measure on who wins the election and how good a supporter of the party she is in the process.

The Candidates:

Blanca, Te Quiero!!
The Colorado Party’s main candidate for this round of national elections is Blanca Ovelar, a former minister of Education and well-grounded party insider. Having coming through the fire of an intense and bitter inner-Colorado primary, she is the establishment’s own and current president’s hand-picked successor to lead the nation. Although a novelty for Paraguay as the nation’s first female candidate for president, Ovelar represents the “man” of the powers that be in one-party Colorado rule.

Lugo: the Bishop with Many Demons
The main opposition to Ovelar and the Colorados comes from the PLRA, a mixed bag of politico nuts that have come together to fight the Colorado candidates. At the PLRA’s head and the liberal party’s national candidate for president is Fernando Lugo, the former Catholic Bishop of San Pedro. So far, I’ve had a very difficult time of discerning the facts from the fictions about Lugo. Since so many members of our evangelical church in Asuncion originally come from San Pedro, they claim to be very well-informed about the bishop, and, because of their insider information, have very definite negative opinions of him. I’ve heard from them among other things that Lugo is an international drug trafficker (we can show you where is his marijuana-growing church compound and estate), is personally responsible for the deaths of many connected to his cruel drug ring (we saw the trail of blood that led straight to the bishop’s mansion after a former chauffer who accidentally found a suitcase of the bishop’s crack cocaine was murdered and his body dragged away), maintains a harem of mistresses (we know one of the poor girls who escaped from his evil grasp), and even made a pact with the devil and other international leaders on a trip he made to Voo-dooville in Brazil (well, we weren’t actually there, but we heard about it, at least).

In real life, though, Lugo’s dual position as a former bishop and current presidential candidate, when taken together with the way he has been speaking and politicking in his campaign, represent something very, very, dangerous for Paraguay and for Paraguayan Christians both evangelical and Catholic. First, Lugo’s thinking and actions in regards to the Faith can only be seen as a perversion of true Christianity. As a bishop and theologian, he has embodied in the past and even now especially stands for a very precariously-founded and historically unchristian form of liberation theology that seeks to realize the Kingdom of God through political processes in the kingdom of man. This is the sort of theology, born in South America and other developing regions as a reaction from brutal colonial oppression traditionally and shamefully partnered with the established church authorities, that calls for social revolution and political change in the name of opposing radical Christian faith. Liberation theologians say that Jesus was a man of political change whose goal was to bring about justice for the poor and to bring power to the weak on earth, that God’s general goal in the world is to establish a nearly-Marxist equality of persons under just political authority, and that as followers of God through Jesus Christ we must do all we can to bring about that reality. Thus, in a Paraguayan context, liberation theology would say that good Christian voters and revolutionaries must upset and bring to an end the abuses and injustices of the all-powerful Colorado party, establishing through whatever means necessary more just and more equalizing social and socialistic political structures. And so, through his own presidential campaign, Lugo hopes to bring about this real justice and real dramatic change to the corrupted Paraguayan government.

On the surface, Lugo’s dream doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea. After all, the current political establishment here in Paraguay is unjustly corrupted by the rich who take advantage of the poor and, as Christians, we serve a God of justice Who has an incredibly large heart for the needs of the poor. Why shouldn’t we support and take part in social change that promises justice and equality? The problem, though, is that the social changes that Lugo and liberation theology champion to solve humanity’s political problems are only surface-deep. They only touch the things that can be seen in outward politics, government structures, and the tangible state of affairs. The real problem with humanity and all political structures and institutions is not, however in the structures and authorities as Lugo would say. Instead, these troubles are the direct and universal result of our first parents’ original sin, and the real problem of corruption and injustice lies within the sinful heart of every human being. Hence, the real answer to the quandary of sin is not in political campaigns or revolutions or changes of governments, but rather in God’s saving graces through Jesus Christ alone. Only the work of the Holy Spirit can change hearts of government officials from greediness and abuse to service and care, and only the work of an almighty God in an individual life can bring about the call to true justice and divine standard of conduct with others. Worldly and broken political processes and institutions will always be just that: worldly and broken. Only the pure good news of Christian faith and hope in the Gospel of Jesus Christ can give heavenly purposes and heal the tendencies toward injustice in all human hearts.

Lugo, however, doesn’t represent this Gospel of Jesus Christ. He has turned to man’s gospel, trading the good news of spiritual liberation in Christ though the Church for a perverted faith in human politicking and the always-fallible realm of political institutions. What is worse and even more condemnable is that Lugo has used his position of spiritual authority as a former bishop in the Catholic Church for his own purposes in search of political authority and power. He has twisted his God-given Christian ordination into something very ugly to garner the temporal support of the easily-influenced masses. He is a wolf in sheep’s clothing, preaching a false gospel of political change devoid of hope apart from the true Gospel of repentance from sin in Jesus Christ. Thankfully and rightfully, the Catholic Church has recognized this and has suspended Lugo’s rights and responsibilities as bishop and priest. The Vatican has installed a new bishop in Lugo’s place in San Pedro, distancing itself from Lugo and from his blighted forms of thinking. In the process, the Catholic Church preserves the Gospel of Faith in Jesus Christ from being polluted by the all too-temporal and all too-human political social movements that Lugo represents. In the end Lugo and all revolutionary social movements will come to an end, but the news of salvation through Christ will remain forever.

Apart from his dangerous and heretical theology that twists beautiful and simple Christian faith into a human system of social change and politics, Lugo’s blasting rhetoric and appeal to far-left populism also show him to be a very dangerous presidential candidate for Paraguay. He has aligned himself with the likes of Hugo Chavez, the off-the-edge Venezuelan loudmouthed president and ally of Cuba and Iran, by promising a fiercely patriotic and self-focused Paraguayan government to the exclusion of friendly relationship with the United States, the gentle giant of a country to the north. No, Lugo is definitely no friend of America as he spouts off fierce but tired jingoistic rhetoric. If elected, Lugo would put himself and all of Paraguay in political and cultural peril outside the good graces and influences of North American values and helps.

Lino: Crotchety but Firm
The third major candidate is Lino Olviedo, a former military general who managed to get himself into a pile of trouble in the aftermath of the Stroessner dictatorship. Throughout much of the 90s and early 2000s he was confined to prison for being accused of plotting a military junta against the established democratic government, but recently he was released to plot and carry out his own and now legal political junta in the elections. Although popular among the people and especially the military for his role in the 1989 ouster of Stroessner, Olviedo represents an old-era style of Paraguayan leadership that promises to bring back authority and the order of law to the now-disordered democratic nation. The youth especially despise him because they think he will bring back nine-o’clock curfews to clear the late-night streets of vagabond kids. Last week I saw a group of folks campaigning for Olviedo and not one was under the age of sixty. Thus, I’m pretty sure Olviedo is like your crotchety old neighbor who waved his cane and yelled at you for walking on his grass when you were little: although loud and annoying and demanding you respect him, he isn’t going anywhere and can’t really do anything.

Playing Dad

I only recently turned 23, but in a couple weeks my son will already be 16 years old. You might wonder at such a strange curiosity— a father, that is, who is only seven years older than his very own child! I’m sure you’re wondering even now what accident of nature or miracle of science or manner of perversion could have been the cause of such an extraordinary family circumstance. In reality, though, my fatherhood was thrust upon me quite recently, quite dramatically, and quite unexpectedly here in Paraguay. In contrast to what you may be thinking, though, I certainly did not have a South American love affair with an Asuncion bell some fifteen years ago, and my long-lost and long-illegitimate Mestizo child born from a childhood tryst definitely has not recently surfaced to claim me as his own Gringo papa.

Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I don’t share even a drop of the same blood with my son, as he doesn’t look a spot like me. He doesn’t carry a hint of the icy sky-grey color in my eyes, the sensitive and easily-irritated pink color on my skin, the pointed slenderness of my nose, or even the trademark spare tire that I and many other Steidls I know grudgingly wear on our midsections. No, he looks much different than a Steidl. His eyes are as black as the pure coffee I used to drink in the mornings, his skin is as brown and smooth as a polished coconut, his nose is short, stout, and looks slightly squashed on its end, and, if these signs aren’t good enough to prove he isn’t my biological son, the definition of his stomach muscles prove that his ancestors’ people lived very different lifestyles from my own (with far less strudel to eat, perhaps).

No, he definitely isn’t my biological son. The real story is this: Christian left his terribly abusive home several years ago in search of a better life on the street. Here in Paraguay, that means his life at home was unbearably rotten to make him search for better by begging and scrounging on the street. When we were telling ghost stories around a bonfire a couple months ago, all the guys asked Christian to add to the repertoire by recounting the things he’s seen and lived through. Thankfully and miraculously, though, Christian’s real-life scary story came to an end a few years ago. After some time on the street he got connected with a Presbyterian church, got saved, and eventually wound up with good stable work in the auto upholstery shop of a lady who attended the Apostolic Church. Through her and another friend’s influence, he got connected to the AC church, became a member last year, and since that time has received a scholarship to attend Colegio Privado Adonai and finish up his four last years of high school.

The entire church has adopted Christian as its own, too, providing for his physical, emotional, and spiritual needs in many varied ways through many different families. Some give him lunch every day, others help him with homework, and still others pay for the little things that other children’s parents would normally cover. Every parent corrects him when he needs it, and every one watches to make sure he makes it church for every meeting. Right now, he’s living with me in the missionary house to keep me company and give him a sure place to stay, so I’m the closest thing he has and perhaps ever has had to a dad. I feed him breakfast and dinner everyday, keep the roof over his head, make him wash the dishes and clean the bathroom sometimes, and even give him a good lecture when he needs it. Although he’s incredibly mature for his age because of his tough life experiences, he’s still a young guy at heart and in need of a lot of guidance and mentorship.

If you think of it, you might pray for Christian and me. I have no idea what he needs by way of love or authority or friendship or security or whatever else. I still feel like an adolescent myself, and I’m basically in charge of one who comes from a totally different culture and with a totally troubled past. I’d trust him with my life and we are very open as we share together, but I’m totally clueless as an adopted dad. We’re both in need of a lot of grace together as we learn how to get along as a very dysfunctional and untraditional family. Please pray also for Christian’s future and his time in the church after I leave at the end of this year. There’s a lot of other amazing people who take good care of him, so he definitely won’t be alone or out on the street as long as there’s a church, but he also definitely needs stability and someone to invest in him long-term.

Another American Part of Me Dies

I said I’d never do it. I’m an American, doggonit-- I’d never even go near that green maté tea stuff that all the Paraguayans drink in the morning. I may do everything else strange and uncomfortable to fit into Paraguayan culture and be a good missionary, but I need coffee when I wake up: coffee that’s rugged and bold and full of life-giving caffeine, the sort of drink that puts hair on chests and makes mighty nations tremble before its awesome power. As an apt student well-trained in American history, I know that both George Washington and George Bush drink coffee every morning, and everyone knows that they are tall and handsome and intelligent and, although I can’t confirm it, I can imagine they have hairy chests, too, because of their black American coffee. I think I even heard once that coffee is the reason why the Americans won the Revolutionary War. While the Brittons were sipping on their dainty tea and nibbling on their sissy crumpets, the manly rebels were able to sneak in and beat them to the ground because they had guzzled down several tankards of coffee along with their hearty morning meals of bacon, egg, and cheese McMuffins.


All of my American cultural knowledge about coffee, though, is now weighing heavily on me as I’ve decided to start drinking Paraguayan maté in the mornings. Although I feel like a rebel against my own upbringing and culture and everything good that I have as an American man, I also feel like I can’t stop or even slow down this conversion to drinking maté. The weather, you see, has finally changed to falltime, so there’s now a distinct South American chill in the early-morning air. It’s this new Paraguayan chill, a chill that makes my feet go cold and my nose go runny and the air on my bare skin feel like a thousand sharp needles, that’s calling me to a distinctly Paraguayan remedy of hot maté. This maté is potent and long-lasting in its ritualistic fight against the chill, offering my hands hours of precious heat-giving movement as I pour the hot water from the thermos into steamy draws of only a couple sips each.


And so, after today, you’ll be able to see me carrying around a thermos full of hot water for maté in the mornings, instead of the coffee you might assume an American man should have. I’ll no longer have an industrial-black glazed porcelain mug in hand, either, but instead an organic wooden guampa, the short and stout gourd-looking cup that holds the yerba (the Paraguayan tea-like leaves) from which is sipped through a metal straw the delicious and comforting maté. I may be taking another step away from my own American culture and good upbringing, but it’s a step that brings me a little closer to the Paraguayan way-of life and a step that carries me to a warmer, happier, and more content place in the cold morning.


In all of this talk about identity and national pride and contentment, though, there is one thing I must confess. Even if I weren’t in Paraguay, I probably would have given up on coffee in favor of maté anyways. I’ve been drinking the hearty American black stuff for ten years now, and the chest hair is still yet to come. It’s definitely time to try a new strategy.