Fear, Power, and Corruption are Universal Values

“Will you give me a kiss?” he said to me in Spanish. I pretended not to understand which, frankly, led to some hysterical gesturing on his part. He had already let my bus pass so that we could be alone in the dark street. It was not until I was on my way safely home, in a number 56 bus, with two women helping me, did I break down. I couldn’t stop crying. I was overwhelmed by the possibility that I could have been raped or I could have been killed. And simultaneously I was in awe of the generosity of these two women, who offered to walk me to my front door. Sadly, this all became even more real to me when yesterday I heard that one of the other students went home because she was attacked.

I have been living in Paraguay for about a month now. I am an AFS volunteer. What is AFS? I get that question a lot. If you had a foreign exchange student in your high school, they probably came through AFS. About 10 years ago AFS started a community service program for older students. That’s what I’m doing. I live in a “suburb” of Asunción with a family and work at a nearby hospital (the best pediatric and maternal hospital in the country, more on that later).

The second most often asked question, at least by Paraguayos, is, “Why us? Why Paraguay?” One kid, on our plan ride from Santiago to Asunción, went so far as to laugh and say, “Why would you want to come here? I mean, you’ll have a great time.” I decided that I wanted to learn Spanish and I committed myself to the sink or swim method. Why? I don’t honestly remember. However, I failed to seriously consider the country itself before arriving. Paraguay wasn’t my first choice, but I became desperate as the thought of another year at my law firm kept me up at night. And it’s a Spanish speaking country. Luckily or unfortunately, it’s a country so different from my own that it confronted me from the very first day.

The international airport in Asunción has four gates. There weren’t any customs to go through. I got a stamp on my passport. It was probably the worst day to arrive in Asunción. In all of my time here, it was the only day it rained and it was freezing! Not to mention, two kids couldn’t find their luggage and looked to me for help. This is funny because although I’m older (most of the students are 16-18), I knew a hysterically low level of Spanish. Yet here I was, trying to signal to airport staff that some American kids could not find their bags. We were given a number and told to leave. Great.

Once we got outside, a counselor from AFS promptly grabbed the two girls and ushered them back inside. “You will never see your luggage again if you don’t get a ticket.” Oops. Everybody was in down coats (picture Chicago winter wear) and complaining of the cold. It was probably 30 degrees out, which is not too bad if you packed shoes (one girl didn’t, only sandals), or if you had a coat (I just had my fleece).

When we got to the hotel/hostel that we were staying in for the first two nights, we were immediately warned of three things that have since taken on a somewhat comedic tone, which is not to say that they are funny, just that every time I’m warned, I smile. 1) don’t drink the water, you will get sick, 2) watch out for Dengue fever, 3) Violence is everywhere, watch your stuff and Paraguayans are surprisingly good with knives.

They essentially scared the shit out of everyone. For the first one, not a single person got sick drinking the water. Granted, we were in Asunción and not drinking well water, but we all were waiting for it to happen. Conversations would start with, “Have you gotten sick yet?” “No not at all, I’m sure it’ll happen soon.” It never came.

Number two: the doctor who lectured on Dengue actually drew a picture of the type of mosquito that caused Dengue. It’s larger and has black and white striped legs. As one of my more astute comrades pointed out, “Are they really big enough for us to tell if they are the right kind? I mean, should we let them land on us and then check and then swat? Aren’t they small?” The doctor seriously didn’t know what to say. One of the other counselors stepped in advising, “If you brought bug spray, use it.”

That brings me to number three. Despite what happened to me, a lot of this threat has been overblown. I can’t tell you how many people warned me about not taking my cell phone out on the bus because I would be stabbed. I have not heard of a single stabbing since being here. I believe that Paraguayos are living in a culture of fear, not very much different from our own. Granted, they have a history in which they’ve known the absence of violence on the street - due to the violence of their dictator. However, much like our own culture of fear, it has kept the common man quiet.

People do not really venture out after dark. Our maid told me yesterday that her walk home that day in the dark had been her first, but she had thought that if I could do it every night it must not be that bad. That is not to say that crime isn’t prevalent, but I don’t think it’s worse than any metropolitan area in the United States. The advice people need is to get is be on top of your shit, not lock yourself in your house after dark.

The constant fear leads to is an ignorance of poverty. If you can say that poverty is everywhere, then you can ignore why it’s somewhere. If it’s a problem that you can’t control, you don’t have to do anything about it. Supposedly violent acts fill the news at night. That and football. As in the United States, I’m left asking myself, “What wasn’t covered tonight?”

When I started working at the hospital, I quickly realized what wasn’t covered. For those of you have lived in Chicago, I can only say that medical care in Paraguay is worse than any Cook County hospital. In the U.S. we have the technology, in Paraguay they just can’t afford it. Instead of having several ultrasounds for women, they have one. You have to get in line at 6 AM and you may not get your exam that day. It’s normal for a woman to get only one during her pregnancy.

I see the policia driving by in their brand new trucks and suddenly it all makes sense. Fear and power are so amazingly intertwined. From what I’ve heard, the cops are most likely to rip you off. I know they are most likely to cattle call. Someone told me a story of how her friend got mugged. His wallet was stolen and the mugger grabbed a purse on the way out of the bus. The friend called for help. A cop heard him and chased down the criminal. The cop got the wallet and the purse, opened them both, took the money, and returned the items. When I went in to get my residency permit, my mom slid a 10 mil on the table. The cop didn’t look at it but said the permit would be ready later that day. I kind of jokingly asked my mom, “So, it costs 10 mil?” She smiled, “Nope, it’s a volunteer operation.” The maid added, “And if you don’t pay for it, nothing gets done.”

I can’t help but draw a parallel of my experience in Paraguay to that of living in the United States. How much are we paying for the war in Iraq? How many people are uninsured? How many schools are underfunded? Part of me wishes corruption was as open in the States as it is here. Another part of me initially said, “That kind of open bribery would never happen at home.” That’s simply not true, it’s happening as we speak. Battleships off Iran, deals for oil, fears of terrorism. The Paraguayan terrorist is the man with a knife.

KTB graduated from Northwestern in 2006, worked in a law firm for a year, and then escaped the country to do good. She is planning on pursuing a dual degree in law and public health.

WHAT'S NEXT?

Subscribe via RSS or Email  ::  Email This Post   ::  Leave a comment

Bookmark to: