Paraguay 1985

In December of 1985, when we were in Iguazu Falls, Brazil with our two sons David and Mike, we looked at a map and saw how close we were to Paraguay.   We had been traveling through Brazil for two weeks on a Brazil Air Pass and thought it would be interesting to visit Paraguay, a small country not on the tourist circuit.  This was long before the term “bucket list” had been thought of, and we would often go to countries just spur of the moment for the fun of it. 

We realized we’d likely never have another chance to see Paraguay, so we bought round-trip tickets for a short two-day visit.  We flew into the capital, Asuncion, and stayed two nights. We weren’t on any tour, just doing some exploring on our own to get a feel for the country.

My most memorable experience was the four of us eating in a restaurant, perhaps the nicest in Asuncion or all of Paraguay and, as we were leaving the restaurant, we passed what appeared to be a group of high-ranking admirals andgenerals, decked out in their dress uniforms with lots of medals and ribbons.   We were probably the only Americans to be found anywhere in the vicinity, since Asuncion in 1985 wasn’t, and probably still isn’t, a tourist destination.  

I used my basic Spanish to greet them and engage them in a brief conversation, telling them we were from the United States, and that we were enjoying visiting their country.  They responded in their rapid Spanish that quickly exceeded my limited Spanish vocabulary.  After we left the restaurant, I realized they were probably the military power that controlled that small country.

I also remember Asuncion as being the hottest place we had ever visited, which is really something considering we had just spent two weeks traveling through Brazil, including the Amazon.

We passed a Bank Of America, which was the only American thing we had seen in Asuncion.  Inside, on the wall, we saw a large photo of the Golden Gate Bridge and, again using my limited Spanish, I tried to explain to the tellers that we lived near that bridge.  I don’t think they had any idea what I was talking about. 

I’m writing this in June, 2019, thirty-four years after we had visited Paraguay, and without the benefit of any photos,that’s about all I can recall.

Art Faibisch, June 2019