It´s unfair, it strikes me, to write to busy people, concerned with practical matters of consequence in the northern hemisphere, about the ridiculous level of tranquillity (prefer the Spanish word, tranquilidad, which is less spiritual and more about an all-round sense of being at ease and at home in the world) that is offered here by the fortuitous combination of climate and nature, lots of sunshine and warm air that positively caresses your skin and lots of friendly wildlife that positively thrills your senses, sings, and surrounds you.
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Doubtless, you are sick of a little humming bird being big news; or an account of the last watermelon from the trundling oxcart that came by my door being redder and sweeter than any ever tasted; the big brown birds that came to finish it off in the outside sink; the warmth of the sand underfoot; the kind person who asked if I needed any clothes washing and I realised that I did not because I hardly wear any; and the twice-daily swims in the river? So I won´t go on about them.
But let me just say that the continuing tranquilidad del campo is relentlessly beautiful, exquisite, and pleasurable and not easy to convey in a notionally exciting blog. Hope you are OK with that. Wish you were here. (In fact, if you are a nice person, there´s a little house near a river in the heart of South America whose doors are open if you come this way.)
OK. Now for something completely different. For ten days, my feet have been swollen, like Michelin Man´s. Could be from long flight, heat, dilated veins, thrombosis, who knows. If in doubt, run and/or play tennis. So I found an obstetrician who did both and within two hours of striking balls on red clay the swelling was down and I could see my sinews, veins, and separate toes again. (OK. Maybe you did not want to know that. But wait, this fat foot fable is leading somewhere.)
This nice tennis-playing medical man showed an interest in buying my once magical but now more millstone Mangoty, a hectare of land by the river. It´s a beautiful place, with a horshoe half ring of giant mango trees, a well, a natural spring, lots of guava trees and cactii, and plenty of greenery and birds. Buying it five year s ago almost cost me my life (another story) and I had great hopes for it, to make it a cultural/sporting place by the river but have simply not had the time in Paraguay to make this happen.
Well, Dr Medina does want to make it happen. He wants to make it a place ´donde la gente puede divertirse en cosas que ayudan a la salud´ (where people can do pleasurable and health-enhancing things) like tennis, volleyball, and music. Great! So we have proceeded to negotiate and agreed a price and sale date, my last day in Belen.
Well, the sale date came, and almost went without completion. The transfer had to be done in the offices of the Belen Municipalidad, which is only open daily from 8am to 1pm.
By 12.30 on the agreed day, the Dr had not shown and the laid back terere-sipping Council staff were getting ready to go home. Then he turned up with his daughter and money minder. Lots of Guarani was spoken, jokes made, wads of money counted, sheets of documents signed, counter-signed, witnessed, and signed again. But at 1.38pm four sigs were still missing, of the Muni Chief excecs, which everyone except me agreed could be done another day. Nervous about the transaction, I put my foot down and said we must get the remaining sigs, so kind young Jose volunteered to ride off across the campo to the four executives´ homes and get their sigs off duty and bring doc to my house ´antes que baja el sol´, by nightfall, and before my departure. And he did! Amazing. Well done Jose.
So, an emotional moment. Matias Mangoty has become Medina Mangoty, and, in a manner of speaking, moves on. Don´t you just love those days when everything looks tricky and impossible and then comes good. Much to be thankful for.
Next morning, the second day of November, it was darkness at dawn. The light sky grew dark and thunder rolled in across the campo. Fat raindrops fell and made holes in the sand.
Am invited to breakfast of peccary and wild deer at neighbour Nonni´s house, a place any proper Englishman would call a proper hovel but I rather like. Full of paraguayan paradox. No carpets or inside toilet but a nice TV and two motorbikes. The breakfast meat has been provided by 22 year old policeman son who has been posted to the Chaco where long days of boredom are broken by hunting trips. He has provided the family´s wild meat. They share meat and motorbikes in true Mbaya Indian tradition, what´s mine is yours and vice versa, which is apparently why someone took my camera last year!
End last day in the north playing tennis with the doctor in middle of nowhere to sound of peacock calls; followed supper on the street of Concepcion with musico Crescencio. Next day, it´s a long buse ride south (in distance, approx. Edinburgh to London) but am rewarded with invitation to the estancia of Don Emilio, where sister Ruthie, brother John, and niece Jeanette are chilling out. It´s luxurious, with vast bedrooms, swimming pool, and organised horse ride. We have table service supper of giant cuts of meat and salad of whole lettuce leaves and dessert of block of sheep´s cheese and crème bruilee-loolking things.
Then it´s on to Asuncion, just R and I, approaching journey´s end. But we still have time for visit to Bruderhof House, where 20 members live in community. The children have prepared a special evening for the grownups, which includes remembrance scene created on pile of rubble for victims of American hurricane and also a baby Jesus scene with candles; and a campfire round which we sit singing Christmas (!) songs and eating cheese and dulce de guayaba.
On Sunday, we take a little battered riverboat with old and chugging Lister engine across the great Rio Paraguay to an isolated but happy place called Chaco y. In the afternoon, we head for the professor´s house, Benjamiin (writer) and wife Liza (singer). Their son Santiago, 25, who in 2009 wwoofed at LSF, was in a dreadful car crash last year in which his 8 people died, including his girlfriend. He was very seriously injured and was reckoned to have ´died´ twice, but is now recovering, after many ops, and still unable to walk, with very limited speech, but a childlike and deeply moving way of communicating. It was a very special visit but also great fun. Ruthie acquired a giant carving!
Later in the afternoon, while the rest of Asuncion sensibly slept off their Sunday lunches,we went off to exercise and tone up ready for our return to the UK. In fact, at supper, we compared notes with Argentinian US-based molecular biologist Paula on health, wealth, and well being, or otherwise, in Paraguay, and the obligation we have to ourselves and society to look after ourselves and one another, or something like that.
Yes, this memorable trip is coming to its end. What has been learned? Lots, including the fact that even in ´paradise´ where the the weather´s nice, life remains a tricky business; that if in doubt, take a (cold) shower; and if you don´t know what to buy for presents, even if you have been told not to, buy hand-made wooden bowls, because they are round, smooth, and beautiful and make you think of harmony, steadfastness, usefulness, love, and life.
Hasta manaña o pronto amigas y amigos!
x
