La Vida Abajo del Sol Paraguayo

When blogging about both Chile and Paraguay, I tend to focus on my adventures and events varying from the expected norms. Rarely, if ever, do I discuss the mundane routine of everyday life. Yet, its the daily activities that prove the most educational. Living in a foreign country is, after all, a very different experience than visiting in the midst of a whirlwind vacation. Yet, it's still an adventure and I've found that I never know what to expect.

Transportation in Asuncion may be the best example. Like most other large metropolises, the city boasts a system of diesel-spewing public buses with routes denoted by numbers. I cannot, however, determine whether there is any way to actually know which buses go where without asking the drivers. There is no list or map posted anywhere online or in the city. This isn't too inconvenient when going somewhere near a main road. If I need to switch buses, however, it can be impossible. Fortunately, it has given me the opportunity to meet countless bus drivers once I'm hopelessly lost and see numerous parts of the city to which I never would have intentionally ventured. And, I must admit, I often suspect the system is vaguely Harry Potter-esque in that the 31 definately changes its route on Thursdays.

Luckily, I almost always find my way evenutally. While my most frequent destinations (Fundacion Paraguaya's main office, the supermarket, various ice cream shops) lie within walking distance of my house, most of my more interesting adventures occur outside the Villa Mora and Los Laureles neighborhoods. The bus rides are, therefore, necessary and certainly worthwhile.

For instance, last week I had the opportunity to visit the office in Luque, a suburb of Asuncion known for its silver jewelry. I didn't dwell in the city for long though; as soon as I arrived, Mercedes and I trekked into the countryside the meet with a committee de mujeres. While meeting with the Foundacion's clients has become a daily occurance, this trip would leave a particularly strong impression on me.

As soon as we climbed off the colectivo, we were warmly greeted by Marta and ushered to her house. At first,the village seemed relatively well-off, at least by Paraguayan standards. Most of the houses appeared to be made of brick with running water. Yet, Marta's home, as I soon learned, was a shanty built from wood, and tin scraps without running water. Although I have certainly seen poverty throughout the past six months, additional exposure to it still remains somewhat jarring. Perhaps this is a good thing; I'm not numb to it.

After a brief conversation, I learned that Marta's committee was struggling to persuade a woman to pay for her share of the loan. This women, Miguela, was not slacking however. About a month ago, she had fallen ill and could not leave her bed. We, therefore, needed to speak to Miguela before making any recommendations.

Upon arrival at her house, it initially seemed as if Miguela was one of the luckier members of the community. An expansive shaded garden surrounded her neat brick house. Yet, it was soon apparent that this women desperately needed help. As she couldn't leave her bed to open the door, we needed to talk to her through an open window. She quickly explained that she couldn't pay the installment due to her disease. After all, she couldn't sell anything from her room.

As she was clearly desperately ill, I began to wonder why she was not at a hospital. President Lugo recently decreed that all healthcare needs including medicine and surgery would be covered by the state, so she certainly had access. However, I also realized that this access only exists on paper. Without any family except an overworked daughter who just gave birth, Miguela had no one to bring her to the hospital. Walking to the bus about a half mile down the road was certainly not an option.

Even if she did arrive at the hospital, she most likely would not have experienced excellent care. Due to the free healthcare, all public hospitals and clinics are overrun with patients. Newspapers report that hospital have seen a 23% jump in patients since the law was passed. This isn't surprising; thousands of people with long-time medical conditions now have access to treatment. Unfortunately, it also means that anyone hoping for help must arrive around 4:00AM in order to receive a deli number and hope for treatment that day. If time runs out, they must return and wait once again the next day. Given the obvious problems plaguing these hospitals, its unsurprising that anyone with money chooses to utilize private clinics and hospitals.

Universal healthcare does not, therefore, necessarily denote that all can receive medical care when needed. Seeing the system firsthand has made it evident that it is not a successful means of ensuring that all possess the same basic human right to health (or possess the opportunity to enjoy it to the largest extent that is technologically possible). While the word for health and healthcare is the same in spanish (salud), it's becoming very clear that salud =/= salud or free healthcare =/= improved health.

Anyways, we soon needed to return to Marta's house to discuss the situation. It was evident that Miguela was teetering on the edge of death. Yet, accoridng to Fundacion Paraguaya's rules, the committee was still responsible for paying her debt whether she was healthy, sick, or dead. At first, I was appalled. Was Fundacion Paraguaya, ostensibly an organization designed to help the poor, actually going to ask these impoverished women to assume another's debt?

Unfortunately, microfinance is ultimately a business, as the head of Accion pointed out in a recent interview. Although the organizations do provide impoverished communities with the credit necessary to build their economies, they also function like banks. With too much loan foregiveness, they would lose all capital and close. They would also fail in their mission of allowing poorer individuals to eventually access credit through regular banks since no loan officers would trust that the microfinance program functioned like a profitable bank.

Regardless, I left the meeting feeling slightly guilty. Not only had our visit potentially increased each women's financial strain, but we also left a sick women alone in her bed. Guiltily, I asked Mercedes what we could do for Miguela. Nothing, she answered, unless we buy a car and take her to the hospital. Unfortunately, this is not exactly an option. Hopefully, she'll miraculously improve before my next trek out to Luque.

Fortunately, not all my visits are that depressing. We often meet with groups of entrepreneurs who have successfully repaid small loans, expanded their businesses, and our receiving more money to continue the process. They happily show their goods while eagerly beginning the weekly lesson in finanical literacy. Microfinance has, after all, proven very successful in many part of Paraguay.

In addition to meeting with successful committees at work, I also have the opportunity to enjoy la vida paraguaya on a daily basis. Whether wandering through the local farmers' market and sampling the delicious fare, bargaining for exquisite artisan crafts in the open air market downtown, running through the sweltering heat on the Ciclovia or in Parque Nu Guazu, reading in the elegant jardin botanico, or sipping terere during a torrential downpour breaking the aforementioned heat, good times certainly abound. I eagerly await the opportunity to explore more of the city... I just have to find my way on the buses...somehow.