Paraguayan bureaucracy: trials and tribulations

I feel like I have spent the entire week navigating various branches of the Paraguayan bureaucracy. My workdays are generally pretty long--8am to noonish at the office and then excursions with the credit official from Fundación Paraguaya in the afternoons, so I usually don't get home until late afternoon/evening...Swinton tells me that she feels neglected but I'm not sure I buy it, since I generally find her asleep on a sun spot on the couch. All that's to say, dealing with the additional hassle of bureaucratic hurdles &c is all the more taxing when my brain is already pretty well poached from a day of interviews and conversations in jopará (half spanish half guarani...oh my!), lots of bumping along in buses, and hours of painstakingly transcribing fieldnotes. The last thing I want to do is deal with the paraguayan bureaucracy!

Ok, so the back-story for my peevishness starts way back a week before Easter. Mom is of course in full-on mourning that her crazy anthropologist daughter has once again trekked off to some god-forsaken backwater place. So of course, like a good mother, takes matters into her own hands and packs up all of the things that I have been sorely missing in Paraguay (viz., one of my beloved professional knives--I've been using a steak knife for just about everything; allergy medicine; my guarani flashcards that I stupidly forgot in at home; some potent sunscreen; three t-shirts; lovely smelling soap; and a tasty chocolate easter bunny packed in on top of all the odds and ends). So off it goes via DHL about a week before Easter, scheduled for delivery within 4 days to the DHL office in downtown Ciudad del Este to be held at the office for pickup. Splendid! The darn thing cost an obscene amount of money to ship since it was expedited international shipping, but was supposed to arrive before Easter. Needless to say, I was awaiting my chocolate easter bunny with eager anticipation.

So, went to DHL the Saturday before easter to fetch my package. And was dismayed to find the DHL office completely locked down, shut tights, and closed for the Easter holiday. Semana Santa here is a *big* deal, but I was surprised that DHL was closed since every other business downtown was open. Disappointed that I wouldn't have my easter bunny in time for Easter (Pesach was behind me, so time to celebrate new testament!), I decided to wait for DHL to call so as to not make futile trips downtown, which is a bit of a hassle. Finally on Tuesday I get a call from DHL notifying me that a package for me had arrived at the Paraguayan customs office at the international airport in Asunción, and would I like DHL to send me an estimate of the customs fees to dispatch it from customs to the office in Ciudad del Este. And I replied of course, please email me the estimate and I will pay all the fees from the local office in CdE. About a half hour later, the following pdf arrived in my inbox (click to enlarge, if you so desire):
And my eyes nearly popped out of my head when I finished reading the entire thing. Essentially, they wanted to charge me $426.36 to get my package out of limbo at the customs office. WHAT??? Looking at the thing a bit more closely, I realized that mom had insured the package for a *lot* ($700...thinking that if it got lost or stolen, which seemed like a reasonable possibility given the paraguayan mail system, it would be nice to get the money back). But the customs agents saw $700 and decided to go wild. Some of the items are completely insane...and wrong. The 13% IVA (value added) tax, even if it were imposed on the $700, would come out to something around $99...not the $124 that they have on the estimate. And $10 for photocopies? And another $80 in random fees and taxes? Gulp! I don't know of any country in the WORLD that charges over 60% of the value of a package for personal consumption. My poor easter bunny! So I called mom and told her there was no way I had the money to "liberate" (as they say here) my package. She talked me out of sending it back to the US...which would have been really sad, especially since she had already spent a small fortune on shipping. So thought about what to do. And concluded that DHL must be in cahoots with paraguayan customs, otherwise they wouldn't send me this ridiculous bill. Which means they probably were going to split the profits from the obscene fees they wanted to charge me. So I sent DHL an email saying pretty much that, and asked them how they were going to "solucionar este problema"--how are you going to fix this? And the woman on the other end of "asuncion formal imports, DHL.py" got an earful from me...and grudgingly agreed to ask the paraguayan customs office to process the package through an "expediated process"....which "is usually reserved for packages valued at less than $500, but I'll see what I can do." And I waited. And waited. And waaaaited. And thought about how tasty my easter bunny was going to be. Until finally on Tuesday (almost a week later) the following estimate showed up in my email inbox:
Notice the kooky math once again. How they came up with $165.78 I'll never know (especially since the AEC taxes for $191 still appears on the top line, but nowhere else on the estimate.) And where they came up with $116.71 for "Customs dispatch services and administrative taxes" is a complete mystery. But while still outrageous, $165 is *far* more manageable than the original $426.

So clearly once I put up a fight, the customs office was like, "ok, I guess we can't *patently lie* to this one and ask her to pay whatever. Darn, I was going to go on holiday." Stunning. But today I finally managed to get my box, for which I was all the more grateful after the concerted haggling that it took to get it. Oh easter bunny! Oh tasty delight! Huzzah!

AND, I think this would have been less of a cause for anguish if I hadn't been simultaneously trying to purchase a car at the same time. ¡Dios mío! What an ordeal! So...Paraguay is the #1 recipient of used cars in Latin America...which makes it (1) a great place to launder stolen cars and (2) a wonderful opportunity of the obviously upstanding and professional customs agents of paraguay to get massive kickbacks in exchange for doctoring paperwork. All that's to say, finding a car with actual, for real, legal title is well near impossible unless you are buying a "0 km" vehicle off the lot...well out of my price range, of course. Titles range from no title or doctored paperwork that doesn't match up with VIN numbers and whatnot (illegal) to "brown titles" that are only recognized within the borders of Paraguay, to F-18 titles that have some proof that the car was not reported stolen and is what it claims to be (at least in countries that are part of the southern cone common economic market Mercosur), to F-20 titles where the car has been properly "nationalized" in Paraguay, to *finally* green titles that are legal 'here, there and everywhere.' It's important to have a green title to cross the border to Brazil...otherwise the Brazilians (who are a bit more on the ball with rules and regulations) can impound the vehicle. Bad news. Also important to have a green title because in Paraguay, if you get stopped by Paraguayan police (who are rather less on the ball) they usually will ask for a hefty bribe if your paperwork isn't in order. So looked high and low for a cheap used little car to putter out to my meeting with FUPA borrowers. But the thing had to be in semi-good working order especially since Paraguayan roads are notoriously dodgy. In addition to the vast stretches of cobbled roads, Ciudad del Este is especially notorious for it's home-grown speed bumps. In order to prevent insane drivers blasting by at 80km an hour, any road that is actually paved soon sprouts speed bumps or large dug-out trenches cobbled together by neighbors that live on that street and are bothered by the traffic. So while most road systems are constructed to facilitate the movement from one place to another as safely and quickly as possible...everything about Paraguay's road system seems aimed at frustrating both of those goals.

Ok...so looking for a car that is (1) legal and (2) runs (3) costs less than $2,000. Harder than you might suspect. So *finally* found a car and made the legal transfer at the notary today. ¡Que gusto! Here 'tis, my new (used) ride: 1973 "fusca" (portugese word for volkswagen). Complete with green title!


And p.s., got the thumbs up from my dissertation adviser to start work on a side-project on value, mobility and sovereignty at the border using stolen cars as my empirical case study. Next up, interviews with all of those lovely customs officials that had their claws on my package for three weeks!

p.p.s. Breaking news from Paraguay

Big news here doesn't usually make it into the papers in the US...so you know something's really up when Paraguay is in the New York Times for a very latin american scandal (click for link). The best part is that there haven't even been serious calls for President Lugo to step down. Paraguayans don't seem to be fazed by anything!

p.s. I now officially have an address

Went to the post office today and got myself a P.O. box. Getting mail at my apartment is difficult because (1) there is no street number and (2) there is no mailbox. Ergo, everything gets sent to the post office. So if you want to send me care packages of beer, or postcards from exotic locales, you can send them to:

Caroline Schuster
Correo Central, casilla postal #307
Ciudad del Este 7000, Alto Paraná
Paraguay

¡Dios mío!

A lot of religion happening this past week. This is one of those years where Jewish Passover and Christian "Semana Santa" (Easter Holy Week) coincide...which means that my dual citizenship (Jewish father, Presbyterian mother) meant that there was a lot to celebrate! Not to mention that semana santa is a *big* deal in this devotedly Catholic country, which mostly involves a logistical nightmare of everything down to bus lines and grocery stores being closed for 4 days at a time. But the Fundación Paraguaya microcredit office has been in turmoil since the end of last week, and an excuse to get out of the office was very much appreciated. They were audited--or rather "intervened"--by head office for almost two weeks, culminating at the end of last week And the office staff was notified on last Friday afternoon that the general director for the branch was being transferred...on Monday, when a new director was scheduled to show up. So by the time holiay rolled around on Wednesday I was very much ready to escape the stress of office politics and general anxiety and bad humor...even if this is great data for the dissertation. But time for a break indeed!

The South African orthodox Jew, Carrene, who is consulting for Fundación Paraguaya in Asunción invited me to Passover services (aka Pesaj) on Wednesday evening. Since it was a vacation day generally, I figured that I would brave the 12 hours on a bus over a 30 hour period of time in order to hang out with Asunción's jewish community. Plus, I remember Passover being one of my favorite jewish holidays from my youth (not that I'd been since I was somewhere on the order of junior high school), so I was game. Bus arrived in the mid afternoon, time for a quick lunch and some errands, and met up Carrene to go to synagogue. We weren't quite sure about the time, but figured that showing up around the prayer service at 7:30 be about right. And then. Oh, I forgot how much history goes into this shindig. We didn't actually sit down to the Pesaj Seder until around 8:30, at which point my travel-weary stomach was starting to think seriously about food. But this was a very very serious affair, which meant that the entire 58 page Hagadá story of the exodus of jews from Egypt must be read in its completeness (with frequent interruptions and anecdotes from the Rabi, of course). Coupled with three glasses of incredibly sweet 'kosher for passover' wine on an emty stomach, and the first crumbles of bitter herbs and matzo being consumed *finally* at around 10:30, I was starting to see stars. Luckily there were two other not-quite-so-practicing paraguayan jews seated next to us at the table, so we could at least share frequent looks of panic and incomprehension when a particularly arcane ritual was being marshaled by the congregation. And also luckily I was part of the "women folk," which meant that I was tasked with bringing things from the kitchen and serving food, which was a welcomed break to at least stand up and stretch the legs (at around midnight, mind you. The religious service is supposed to end by 12, but Carrene told me that Adonai gives you an 18 minute overtime period in case things are running late. Which they always are. But luckily we had the be done with the service and on to eating by 12:18...we barely made it!). Sadly, the first food that arrive out of the kitchen was an enormous steaming caulron of vile smelling "gefilte fish"...i.e. mashed up fish parts rolled into greasy dumplings and boiled in broth. Even homemade, the stuff is nearly inedible. All of my mounting appetite quickly dissipated...it is perversely comforting to know that everywhere in the world, Passover wine and gefilte fish are two of the most unappetizing food items available for consumption. Oi gevalt! Surreptitiously escaped to call at taxi at about 1:30am (we were technically supposed to walk home since technology and orthodox jews don't generally mix on sacred days, but not traipsing 3km through dark Asunción street seemed like a good excuse to bend the rules a little bit). And then back on a bus a 7:30 to head home.

But, yay for holiday! Another friend, Fanny, who works at the Fundación Paraguaya office in Asunción decided to head back to CdE with me and take advantage of the long weekend to do a bit of shopping in the downtown commercial district and to get to know the city. Sadly, just about everything was closed, which meant a lot of walking (buses weren't running either), and some very relaxing hanging out with a book/ridiculous paraguayan TV/the cat/&c. But it also gave me a chance to shoot some pictures of my neighborhood:

This is my block. My apartment is above the storefronts all the way up the street. I live on Campovía, which is a wide double-avenue with a median/sidewalk going through the middle. The store nextdoor (CocaCola sign) is a bodega that has basic necessities and cold 1L bottles of beer in big glass bottles that you return in order to get a discount. And they cost Gs. 6,000= $1.20. Pretty great to be able to snag one on the way back from a run. Yes!


The neighborhood is really residential, with small homes surrounded by fences and lawns, with patios where people sit outside and drink tereré during the day and beer at night. This is Campovía looking the other way. Very "tranquilo"...quiet and residential.


And this is the view out of my back window--my landlady Modesta lives behind the stores/apartments in a spacious house with her two kids and her sister Lucia. Her husband is Portuguese and lives most of the year abroad--he came here years ago to work for the Itaipú hydroelectric project but now away for most of the year. So Sra. Modesta is a bit lonely (something an itinerant anthropologist can certainly empathize with), and seems rather excited to have a kooky foreigner living in the building. On Thursday evening Fanny, Modesta and I went out to take a spin around the plaza that was a few blocks away...I wanted to get a short run in, and Fanny and Modesta were power-walking. And apparently Modesta talked Fanny's ear off, which was a bit comforting, since usually I'm the target of her chattiness. There have been several evenings where I hear Modesta calling, "Carolina...Caroliiiiinaa....?" from downstairs, a pitcher of Caipirinhas in her hand. She always makes a pitcher rather than a glass. I wonder if it is because she is hoping to talk others into sharing it with her, or whether it's simply the mysterious alchemy of a caipirinha that requires pitcher-sized proportions. She does spend a lot of time mashing a whole bag of limes together with sugar before going in search of the cachaça and ice to fill it it up...so the whole ritual does indeed seem like it might require a pitcher. In any event it has been absolutely lovely to slouch in her hammock on the porch while listening to the symphony of insects and the roar of motos on the street outside, and Modesta talking about her summer house in Brazil, and oh Carolina you should come visit in Salvador de Bahia, and how she buys art there and brings it back to Ciudad del Este but people here aren't cultured enough to appreciate it especially now in this economy, and how everything is just so much more relaxed in Brazil. And I think to myself, if your caipirinhas are as good there are they are here, well....

So that's been Semana Santa. Fanny left this morning and now it's time to get back to work (sigh). The weather is cooling off a bit (we are in fall here), which means that the excursions I've been making with Fundación Paraguaya's "credit adjusters" is slightly less arduous (not counting the office drama, of course). In any event hope everybody is well, and happy Easter and other denominational and non-denominational holidays! Hope the egg hunting and chocolate bunny eating goes well!

Addendum to basketball plans

Yesterday was day two of my basketball adventures. And I am a broken women. Not from any basketball-related trauma. But from 3 hours of bumping along in a bus, most of it while standing up, and for half of which I was drenched in sweat. Ugh. Minga Guazu is really really far away from Ciudad del Este...which I fear might make my basketball plans completely unsustainable. Especially since long bus rides in the dark while wearing gym clothes and looking a lot like a gringa...probably not great for my health and wellbeing generally (i.e. on the not getting mugged front). So the bus-to-basketball ratio is leaning heavily in favor of staying put in Ciudad del Este, as much as basketball is a hoot.

So instead...I think I'm going to be a bit more serious about training for a fall marathon. I'd been toying with the idea for awhile, spurred mostly by access to the lovely running path around the lake (where I found Swinton). My target race is going to be the Punta del Este marathon in Uruguay on Sept. 6th. As much as being "tall" was a serious ego-boost, "basquet"is proving to be a logistical nightmare. If only the lake weren't so close and Minga Guazu so far away!!!

Apparently I'm tall here

A week or so ago, my friend Olga (one of the credit assessors for the "committees of women entrepreneurs" at Fundación Paraguaya) invited me to play basketball with her friends in Minga Guazu, a town about 25km outside of Ciudad del Este. Apparently the fact that I was "tall" (first time I'd heard that...ever: viz 51cm bike and constantly needing to hem my pants) and liked running meant that I was a perfect candidate. Cheerily I agreed--seemed to be a great way to meet some women my age, chance to get to know a new part of the city, and have something to do on the weekends when things are pretty quiet in CdE. The invasion of foreigners last weekend suspended basketball plans for a week, but on Friday I committed myself *for sure!* to basketball practice on Saturday evening.

Two bus transfers and a very kind lady who pointed me to Don Bosco High School in Minga Guazu, and I was there. Couldn't get ahold of Olga but feeling pretty sanguine about the whole thing, I trekked past some very enthusiastic pick-up soccer games towards the one outdoor basketball court...seemed like the right place, maybe? There was a group of women jogging in the typical brazilian-made spandex capris and sports-tanks (I felt a little silly showing up in my comparatively--in my mind--tame addidas running shorts...people here think they are too risqué since they show a lot of leg, to which I reply that no *way* are they going to get me in purple and yellow be-rhinestoned spandex tights, so deal!) accompanied by what seemed like a guy who was their trainer. I took the opportunity to find an abandoned nook and change into sports clothes...when I got back they were stretching. I asked if this was the basketball league...to which the guy replied yes, and wasn't it a shame I had shown up late, and I had to run for a bit to warm up. Ok. How long? 5 min. Uh, ok (???)...so set off for several laps around the basketball court. A bit winded (5 minutes wasn't much, so maybe pushed it a bit, ruh roh!)...returned to the group just as they finished stretching. Got all the appropriate introductions, including Olga's sister (still no Olga, yikes!), and off to practice. Yes!!!

Which turned out to be way more serious than I expected! No pickup basketball...no siree. It turns out they are actually practicing for some sort of women's championship league (yikes!). Started off with drills and discusion of positions/strategy. The trainer (who never gave me his name...guess I'll have to ask next time) played basketball with a guy who was somehow involved with the Argentine pro-league, which is pretty serious. In fact, he seemed pretty serious. Yikes! After about half an hour of offensive drills most of the other ladies were pretty winded. Luckily my cardio was hanging in there even if my ball-related skills left everything to be desired (Junior High PE being the last time I touched a basketball). So after a break we started some defensive drills, at which point I realized that I was actually, shockingly, absurdly, incomprehensibly, the second tallest girl on the court. Cool beans! Which turns out to be almost important when covering another player. This could be totally awesome! But at this point it was starting to get dark and a lot of the women seemed pretty beat. And the mosquitos were out, and we were sweaty, so the trainer called it for the day. A few of us stayed around to practice shooting (which I desperately needed!). It felt like after a bit of practice I was starting to get the hang of things. I definitely was not the worst shot on the team, which was simultaneuously encouraging and discouraging. But finally decided to call it an evening when it was almost too dark to see (ergo the terrible image quality on the photo...yay for basketball in the dark!). Olga showed up just as it was getting dark--she said that she got stuck in a meeting but pledged to make regular practices. Guess we'll see!

So now I'm part fo the Minga Guazu ladies "basquet" team. Practice both days on the weekend (yikes!) and on evenings on tues/thurs, which I probably won't be able to make because it's a long bus ride in the dark, which isn't great news for gringas navigating public transit in Ciudad del Este. Who knows, maybe this will accelerate my plans to get a junky little car for my time in the field. It would certainly do wonders to balance out my emaciated cyclist/runner upper body. I'll come back to the states with some serious guns!