So how have I been spending my time. Given the provocative title to this post, I suppose that I had best explain myself! Mostly I have been heading out with the Fundación Paraguaya credit adjusters as they make their rounds. There are two types of financing available through FUPA--credits to individual borrowers as well as joint credits to "committees of women entrepreneurs" that collectively guarantee the loan. So I spent a few days hanging out with Soledad, one of the credit adjusters for the individual loans. The other 'individual' credit adjuster is called Nelson...ah, Nelson, the bane of my office existence and the reason why civilized countries invented things like workplace sexual harassment standards. Nelson who often tells me that some days we will be married (notwithstanding his *current* marriage, as I point out with some frequency...a marriage that he claims makes him a bachelor every day "except for Friday through Sunday" when he's at home...ee'gads!); Nelson, who cat-calls at any poor girl who has to walk up the spiral staircase to the second floor; Nelson, whose unsolicited "besos" of greeting verge on the obscene; *and* Nelson, who often offers to take me out on his moto to make the rounds with his clients. No thanks. Which leaves me to head out with Sole...the self-described "office gossip" (and bit&*$, in the eyes of most of the office, including probably herself). Great. But Sole has a car and spends a lot of time driving around to inspect the properties of loan applicants (she says that if they have a dirt floor, how in the world can the pay a Gs. 5.000.000 credit? So seeing is believing). Which is great for me, since I get to meet a bunch of FUPA's prospective clients, as well as have access to the processes by which they judge, classify, and ultimately accept or deny loan applications.
So the other day got a call from Patricia and Soledad at around noon…they were going to head out to do credit checks. The first place we stopped was in Puerto Franco for one of Soledad’s clients. She has to do house-by-house checks for every client that solicits a credit. This woman was asking for a loan to bring goods from Argentina and sell them in Paraguay...right. Sometimes this is completely legal arbitrage activity. This seemed entirely dodgy. I read reports all the time in the newspaper about smuggling goods from Argentina, and trucks getting stopped at the border with all sorts of produce/oil/meat (usually agricultural goods) inside. So this was clearly illegal activity. But Soledad said that there was only a contract with the exporter in her folder, which wasn’t sufficient to prove her income (necessary to have proof of income to take out a loan). The woman responded that her aunt did the same thing, she was the one who brought her for the first time. And she said that her aunt had presented just exactly the same thing that was in her folder in order to get a credit. And Sole asked if the woman had a “receipt,” something to prove that she was buying, some way to “demonstrate her commercial movement.” She went inside to ask her mother, who apparently was in business with the whole family...and was the fence for the contraband good in the city center. After awhile they both came out and said that they would bring a hand-written receipt in time for the loan-signing. In the car I asked Sole if FUPA was at all concerned about clients using money to smuggle contraband. He response was a completely unconcerned “nope,” which I thought was funny. In fact, Sole wanted proof of smuggling to put in the loan folder. Yay for the female pirate clan of Ciudad del Este!
Next we stopped at the “Hito de Triple Frontera” or Lookout on the Tri-Border—super-relaxed day…some sight-seeing with the gringa as a break from work. In fact, unclear what Patricia was doing with us…she had a meeting later in the day but nothing really to do with Soledad’s excursions. But the landmark of the Tri-Border was pretty cool. You could see the two rivers and three countries all from one place. There were police…but Sole and Patricia were talking about all the boats that came back and forth with smuggled goods. There were a bit disappointed that there wasn’t one readily visible to point out to me.
Looking out over the three-frontiers--some imposing looking police buildings.
Right bank: Brazil. Left bank: Argentina. And sadly nobody smuggling goods across the river...guess we got there too early, most of the contrabanding happens in the evening!
But other than work during the week, my only noteworthy social events have involved eating "asado" (for the wikipedia definition of asado, click here...essentially the slow-roasting of meat over charcoal until it becomes a blackened and delicious carnivore's dream) with various acquaintances...including Modesta, my landlady, and variious FUPA employees. Most people in Paraguay smirk when I tell them how expensive meat is in the US. Because a full rack of beef ribs will run less than $10 here. Usually they are like, "boo hoo...the global superpower has to pay a lot for barbeque"...gentle chiding that is in good spirits. But they do seem genuinely perplexed as to how one could survive without ingesting 1-2 kilos of meat every weekend as part of the general "asado"-related festivities. Good thing I renounced my vegetarian ways long ago...
So this is how most asados start out: a trip to the meat market
At which point it is customary to purchase an entire side of beef. There are two different types of grills that are then prepared for the asado--either an enclosed smoker-esque contraption...or a grill propped up on bricks over a piece of aluminum siding. Depends on how classy we are being here. Some of the really posh setups have a fire-pit with a grate that can be raised or lowered on an elaborate system of pulleys. But the key aspects being that (1) it must accommodate an entire cow and (2) be a slow enough burning fire/high enough off the embers that the meat will slowly cook to blackened perfection over the course of 3-4 hours. Ergo, an immense amount of time sitting around shooting-the-shit, as it were...and often an 11pm dinner. Well...most families get serious about their asados on Sunday mid-day lunch-ish. But for asados that happen in the evening...be prepared for a looooong wait. Viz birthday celebration for Zayda, one of the loan officers for FUPA:
(this was the "prop grill on rocks" variety of grill). The worst part was...all of the waiting around for the slab-o-meat to finally be done involved consuming one of Paraguay's (well--Latin America in general) classic beverages: boxed red wine and Coca-Cola. Wow--sure-fire recipe for a monstrous headache the next day! All the sugary goodness of Coca-Cola combined with wine that doesn't even deserve the name it's so bad. On an empty stomach to boot! (Since dinner is still sizzling away on the Cro-Magnon-worthy grill. Literally made out of rocks...every time the boys flipped the meat, the whole thing was in danger of imminent structural failure).
Anyhow...great stuff for anthropologists intent on discerning the eating rituals of the natives, as it were.
Anyhow, feeling happily the tummy is feeling well enough that it can face down a slab of expertly grilled ribs! And asado is an excellent strategy to recover from my worm-induced anemia...though the recovery process is rather slower than I would have liked. BBQ, I am convinced, is clearly a better solution than dodgy Paraguayan iron pills, though :)
Hope everyone is well and can't wait to see you when I get back to the states!
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