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Photo: A Thoroughly Befuddling Tent Tag


If you travel, without question you’ve had your share of experiences with “Chinglish,” or other corrupted forms of the English language. After all, there are books and websites devoted to this stuff. But while trekking in Bolivia last month, I discovered an entirely new form of linguistic weirdness, in the form of a tag on my (outfitter-supplied) tent.

It was a brand I’d never heard of, called Alpkit, and the tent had no information as to its origin. You can imagine my befuddlement upon reading this after a full day of trekking at 15,000 feet. I thought perhaps I was hallucinating.

Now that I’m home, I’ve discovered that Alpkit is a UK outfitter, and upon reviewing their site, I realize the above is entirely tongue-in-cheek. That doesn’t make it any less amusing. Here’s to more gear manufacturers having a sense of humor.

[Photo credit: Laurel Miller]

Celebrating May Day: Images Of Workers Around The World


Today is May Day, when the world celebrates the struggles and sacrifices of the common worker. Like this cheese seller in Tupiza, Bolivia, photographed by Gadling’s resident cheese expert Laurel Miller. After some hard hours making her product, this woman comes to the market hoping to sell it all before the day is through. She uses a plastic bag on a stick to keep the flies away.

A range of unions and workers’ parties declared May Day a workers’ holiday in 1898. The date commemorated a three-day general strike in the U.S. that started on May 1, 1886, during which workers demanded an eight-hour day. Police fired into a protest by employees at the McCormick-International Harvester Company and killed three. On May 4, workers staged a protest against the killings at Haymarket Square, Chicago. A bomb went off and the police charged into the demonstrators. At least a dozen people died that day, including seven officers. Eight activists were sentenced to hang for the bombing, although there was widespread criticism about the lack of evidence.

American workers eventually got an eight-hour day, but it took several more major demonstrations and lots more people getting hurt. Many countries still don’t offer the benefits we now take for granted. Traveling around the world we come across people in lots of different lines of work. Some jobs are good, some are bad, and some are downright grueling. I’ll never forget a man I saw on a construction site in Damascus, Syria, back in 1994.

A crew was digging a deep trench into the sidewalk near our hotel, and every day my travel companions and I would pass by. Most of the men were down in the trench digging, but one guy had the job of sitting on an upturned bucket at street level manning a pump to take away water from the trench. He pulled on a rope attached to a pulley overhead, which yanked a crude pump at the bottom of the excavation. He’d set up a rhythm and sat there pulling all day. We saw him, every morning, noon, and evening, for days on end. We dubbed him, “The Man With the Most Boring Job in the World.”

I regret I never talked to him. While I’ve had my share of soul-destroying jobs, I bet he could have taught me a thing or two about what it means to work for a living. So Happy May Day, Man With the Most Boring Job in the World, and Happy May Day to all the other workers photographed in this gallery of shots by Gadling bloggers and members of the Gadling Flickr pool!

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A Visit To A Bolivian Medicine Woman

I’d never heard of a shaman until my first class on my first day of college. I’d signed up for “Magic, Witchcraft, & Religion” as an elective on a whim. It turned out to be one of my favorite undergrad classes and has been highly inspirational to my work as a travel writer.

The instructor was a short, plump woman of a certain age. She’d lived on a Hopi reservation while working on her doctoral thesis. She looked so exotic, always bedecked with ropes of beads, silver and turquoise necklaces and rings, and dangly earrings. She wore colorful indigenous skirts and told incredible stories, some of them involving the words “peyote” and “ayuhuasca.” She’d traveled all over the world. I wanted to be her.

So, it’s no surprise that I developed a fascination for indigenous cultures. Perhaps one of the reasons I find them so absorbing is because I don’t subscribe to any religion myself, so I find the concepts of animism, polytheism and shamanism particularly interesting. I’m spiritually bankrupt myself, although I studied holistic massage in the ’90s (big mistake), and through that developed a respect for certain alternative modalities of medicine.

But fortune-telling? Soul cleansing? Killing endangered species and then ingesting their body parts in foul-tasting teas? Um, no thank you. I find this stuff interesting, but I don’t believe in it, nor do I endorse anything that involves sacrificial offerings in the name of fortune, fertility or romance.

I once had my palm read on a press trip in Hong Kong. The fortune-teller, a wizened old man, examined my hand (at the time cracked and callused from my part-time jobs as a farmers market vendor and waitress), and asked my translator, “Why no marry? If no marry by 40, never marry. Health good, feet not so good.” Still single at 44, that asshole may well have sealed my fate, but on the other hand, my feet are in good shape.

%Gallery-186949% Still, despite my non-existent belief system, I was determined to visit a shaman while in Ecuador four years ago, simply because I was curious about the process, as well as what he’d have to say about my psyche. Unfortunately, my session proved impossible to organize on short notice, so when I went to Bolivia last month, I set about finding a contact pre-trip who could hook me up with a reliable medicine man or woman.

Throughout South America, there are variations on the type of people who perform services that, to our Western minds, are mystical, if not demonic. Depending upon the country or indigenous culture, this person might be male or female, and they can variously be considered a medicine… person, shaman, or witch. The most important fact is that rarely are these people practicing what we would consider the occult.

The function of most South American “medicine men/women” and their ilk is to provide spiritual guidance or assist with medical or emotional problems. Whether this involves medicinal herbs, potions, casting spells or purifying rituals is besides the point. For many people, particularly those from indigenous cultures, regular visits to these specialists is a way of life.

Amongst the Aymara people of Bolivia, such a person is referred to as a yatiri, and they may be male or female. While plenty of yatiris can be found in La Paz’s Mercado de Hecheria, or witch’s market, I discovered that the real-deal yatiris (i.e. ones that don’t cater to tourists) are located up in El Alto, a separate city that’s sprung up in the hills above La Paz. This mostly indigenous community is a sprawling cacophony of markets, ramshackle houses, shops, traffic snarls and street vendors, but it’s also an excellent representation of daily life for urban Aymaras.

It was here that my fixer/translator, a British woman who’s been living in Bolivia for 22 years and works as the office manager of a mountain biking company, found Dona Vicentá. A practicing yatiri for 10 years (she says she felt a calling), her services are requested across the continent, including by some prominent government officials.

Dña. Vicentá agreed to see me thanks to a personal reference from a Bolivian friend of my fixer. She doesn’t usually take on gringos as clients, but for whatever reason she agreed to see me, as well as allow me to document my session. I was given a price range for a fortune telling and soul-cleansing session (the price depended upon just how much scrubbing my soul was in need of, so I steeled myself for the full fare, which was about $60).

My fixer and I took a cab up to El Alto, and there we met Dña. Vicentá in front of a community building. She was an adorable, sweet-natured Aymara woman with remarkably youthful skin, dressed in full cholita (highlands woman) attire. We walked to her “office” along a busy street. We came upon a row of squat, corrugated buildings, most of which had small fires burning in metal pans in front of each doorway. I learned that these were the workplaces of other yatiris. This area is popular with them, because of its prime location overlooking La Paz (above).

Location is, as they say, everything, and for yatiris, the double-whammy of having the soaring peaks of Huayna Potosi to the left, and Illimani to the right has significant cultural and spiritual meaning. It’s also where La Paz’s radio towers are located. This, explained Dña. Vicentá without a trace of irony, makes for excellent communication with spirits and helps her to better receive feedback on her clients. For the record, I believe she was utterly sincere, and for the sake of journalistic and personal integrity, I’d promised myself I’d submit to this adventure with a completely open mind.

My session began with Dña. Vicentá asking me a few general questions, but nothing personally revealing. She asked me for a 10 boliviano note, which she added to a pile of coca leaves on a table. She then began picking up handfuls of the coca leaves, and divined their meaning based upon the way they fell. This lasted approximately 15 minutes.

I’m not going to tell you what she said, because it’s personal, but I can say that she was eerily accurate. Not just good-at-reading-people accurate – she literally nailed certain things that only a long-term therapist, if I had one, or my closest friends could possibly know. It didn’t freak me out so much as astound me, and after that, I began to pay closer attention.

Unfortunately, this is the part where my fixer and I learned that a visit to a yatiri is a two-part process (at the very least). Dña. Vicentá told me she had a client with a serious family matter waiting outside, and asked when I could return for my soul cleansing. Apparently, the process requires the yatiri to seek guidance from higher powers, in order that he or she might procure and prepare the correct offerings. In order for me to have a certain “blockage” removed that was prohibiting me from achieving certain things, Dña. Vicentá would need time to prepare (much of this was lost in translation, but I do know that a dried llama fetus was required).

We explained to her that I was flying out of La Paz at 6 a.m. the following morning, and had no plans to return to Bolivia anytime soon. I actually felt a little distraught. Dña. Vicentá mulled things over and decided to perform a sort of mini-cleanse in order to help me in the interim, but only with the understanding that I would return to Bolivia for the full deal at some point (this I promised, as I do get to South America about once a year).

After about 15 minutes, Dña. Vicentá was ready for my ceremony. A small, incense-fueled fire was burning in front of the office. I was told to kneel on a blanket overlooking the city. She requested my wallet, so that my money would be blessed. She then used a smudge stick to purify me (above), chanting in Spanish and Aymara the entire time. It took about five minutes and when it was over, I felt strangely relieved – like I’d acquired some karmic insurance to tide me over. I thanked her profusely and we exchanged traditional cheek kisses in farewell.

So, now I’m back home and I have to say, it seems some of Dña. Vicentá’s predictions appear to be coming true. Of course, this may well have happened without her, and I prefer to continue to believe we make our own luck, or lack thereof, most of the time. As for the long-term outcome of certain things she told me, that remains to be seen. I do know I’ve given a lot of thought to a few things she pointed out about my nature (which, for the record, she deemed as fundamentally good), and I’m working on trying to change a few detrimental habits.

Do I now believe in witchcraft, shamans and spirits? No. But I’m willing to accept that perhaps there are certain people out there who are blessed with a type of insight that goes beyond what the human mind can readily comprehend. Or maybe Dña. Vicentá has just read some of my writing.

[Photo credits: Laurel Miller/Jill Benton]

Falling In Love With The World’s Most Hyped Churros At Xoco In Chicago

I’m almost never game to wait in a long line to eat. But I joined a line stretching outside the door at Xoco in Chicago last Saturday because I couldn’t stand to hear another rave about the place without experiencing what all the fuss is about for myself. Xoco is a fast food Mexican place owned by former “Top Chef” master chef Rick Bayless, whom my colleague Laurel Miller once memorably described as an “all-around culinary badass.”

The place has a whopping 1,662 reviews on Yelp – 897 of them mention the otherworldly churros – and about the only people who pan it are those who can’t get a table. (There are only four restaurants in Chicago with more reviews on Yelp: Kuma’s Corner (burgers), Hot Doug’s (hot dogs/sausages), Girl & The Goat (New American) and Smoque BBQ.) I’ve been hearing about how unforgettably good this place is since it opened in 2009 – the place is a tourist attraction in itself – but was reminded that I needed to try it after seeing a write-up on it from Grant Martin in our budget guide to Chicago in late January.We arrived at 1 p.m. on a Saturday afternoon, which is probably the worst possible time to try eat here. But the line moved fast and I actually needed the half hour or so to study the menu and the daily specials. I knew that I wanted a torta, a Mexican sandwich made on fresh bread from Labriola Baking Company (another great place to eat in Chicago’s western suburbs) that is cooked in a wood burning oven, but I was torn between getting the Choriqueso, which is made with homemade chorizo sausage, roasted poblano, artisan Jack cheese and tomatillo salsa, and the Baja chicken, which comes with homemade chipotle mayo, Napa cabbage/radish slaw and black beans.

I went for the Baja chicken, my wife got the pork carnitas and we shared an order of churros with sides of chocolate and soft serve vanilla ice cream. The bill, with no drinks was more than $40, including a hot chocolate we bought for our boys. My torta was absolutely mouth watering. The bread is crusty, the ingredients are fresh and the rich salsa and creamy mayo are an excellent accompaniment to a sandwich that is just about perfect. My only complaint is that at $11, it should be bigger. In fact, it was so damn good that I easily could have eaten two of them.

But the reason why I’m already salivating at the prospect of returning to Xoco is the churros. Good lord, the churros. Forget about the crunchy, flavorless things you buy from a cart on the street or in a hole-in-the-wall Mexican bakery. Those things don’t even deserve to have the same name as the treats that are served up at Xoco.

They literally melt in your mouth and the flavor is so intensely sweet and cinnamony that it brings a smile to your face. Really, I challenge anyone to walk into Xoco in a terrible mood, eat a churro and see what happens to your demeanor. These damn things could bring peace to the Holy Land for crying out loud. My wife liked to dip them in the sinfully rich, decadent chocolate but I preferred the cinnamon/vanilla ice cream combo. How do you want your Powerball winnings – lump sum or yearly payouts? You can’t go wrong either way.

After visiting Xoco in the city, I found out there was a Frontera Fresco with many of the same menu items a Norris Hall on the campus of Northwestern University in Evanston, only a mile from my house. I went there with my wife on a Friday at 1:30 p.m. and there was no line whatsoever. Even better, most of the tortas were $1 or $2 cheaper than they are downtown. I had the Cubana, which comes with pork loin and bacon, black beans, avocado, artisan Jack cheese, chipotle mustard, Morita chiles and homemade cilantro crema. It was pretty damn good though not quite as tasty as the Baja Chicken or the carnitas.

But the campus location, alas, has no churros. Damn them! But they do have soft serve yogurt – try the coconut – and some very tasty almond cookies and bread pudding. My verdict: Xoco is worth the hype, especially the churros, but if you hate to wait, head north to Evanston.

[Photo credits: Dave Seminara]

International Budget Guide 2013: Asuncion, Paraguay


Why is 2013 the year to get to Asunción, Paraguay’s, lovely, riverfront capital? Because this landlocked tropical nation sandwiched between Boliva, Brazil and Argentina is modernizing at warp speed. Tourism is still a rarity (expect curious looks, especially if you venture into the countryside – and you most definitely should), but the city offers enough inexpensive, low-key pleasures to make spending a few days more than worthwhile.

While not as cheap as, say, La Paz, Asunción is still ridiculously affordable, especially if you’re not looking for luxury accommodations (lodging and cabs are pricey, compared to everything else). Spend your days in the laid-back downtown, or centro, visiting the shops, market stalls and restaurants; stroll La Costanera, the two-mile riverfront walkway in the centro; take a small boat to the nearby island of Chaco’i to check out the bird life; hit the town (Asuncion has quite the nightlife, because that’s when things finally “cool off”); or just do as Asuncenos do: kick back in the Plaza with a refreshing tereré (cold mate tea, often spiked with fresh medicinal herbs called yuyos) and watch the world go by (empanada in hand).

Although Paraguay is reputed to be South America‘s second poorest country, Asunción’s centro has the feel of prosperity. The country is rich in cattle ranching, soy exports and other agricultural food crops and is the continent’s only officially bilingual nation, thanks to the prevalent indigenous Guarani culture. (In most places, including Asuncion, Spanish is the dominant language over Guarani; you won’t, however, find English widely spoken, so bring your phrasebook.) Paraguayans are also legendarily hospitable, so don’t be surprised if you find yourself getting invitations to dinner or making friends at the drop of a hat.

Asunción calls to mind a smaller, saner, safer Rio de Janeiro, except that it’s located on the Rio Paraguay, instead of the Atlantic. Multi-colored, colonial and gothic-style buildings from the 19th and early 20th centuries (both beautifully restored and in varying stages of glorious decay) make up the majority of the centro – although modern, upscale shopping malls and hotels are popping up, as well.
It’s a city of flowering trees (lapacho, palo borrachos, jacaranda, chivatos…) and gardens. There are street vendors, markets and stalls of handicrafts, as well as parks, plazas and historical buildings and other cultural sights, mostly around the centro. Many of the outer neighborhoods, such as the area by the main bus terminal (Terminal de Omnibus, 30 minutes from the centro) are more what you’d expect from a major South American city: buses belching exhaust, ramshackle street stalls hawking everything from T-shirts and newspapers to termos, guampas and bombillas (equipment for drinking Paraguay’s ubiquitous yerba mate, and its cousin tereré) and generic restaurants and shops.

Don’t forget you’ll need a tourist visa if you’re visiting from North America; details are provided in the Getting Around section. For the purposes of this guide, all accommodations and dining, as well as most of the shopping activities, are limited to the centro, for the sake of both convenience and interest.

Budget Activities

Shop the mercados
Paraguay is renowned for its exquisite handicrafts (artesanias), and at the current market prices, you’ll most definitely want to bring a spare duffel (or purchase a hand-woven cotton bag) to tote home the goods. Delicate, web-like nanduti lace and finely woven ao po’i lace inset with encaje ju (a different form of lace often used as trimming) are turned into everything from tablecloths to clothing ($7 will get you a pretty table runner). Paraguayan cotton is also turned into beautiful, hand-woven hammocks, rugs and blankets.

There are hand-tooled leather belts, bracelets and purses, and leather-lined termos and guampas; all are high quality and super-affordable (just $1.25 for a cute little change purse). Silver filigree jewelry is another great souvenir, as are indigenous crafts from the local Maka Indians, such as woven bracelets and purses. The best place to find these goods is at the Plaza de la Libertad artesanias stands (closed Sunday), as well as the stalls along the main business drag of Calle Palma around the corner. Do note that siesta is from noon to 3, and most businesses shut down during those hours; the aretsanias stalls are about the only thing that stay open, besides department stores and some restaurants.

You’ll also find some permanent artesanias stores in the historic La Recova region, about five minutes of a walk away, across the street from the Port. The prices may be a bit higher, but the quality can also be better, especially for lace goods. If you’re looking for historical Paraguayan artifacts, don’t miss the Sunday antiques market, held in front of the Nueva America (“na”) department store on Calle Palma and Independencia National. It runs from around 8 a.m. until mid-afternoon, and while prices aren’t exactly budget, you’ll still find deals on everything from antique, silver-plated horse bridles and rusty, vintage license plates to swords and other military artifacts from the Chaco War.

For food (mainly produce, cheese and fresh and cured meats, but also some street food) and cheap clothes, electronics and other goods, the warren-like Mercado Cuatro is a must. It’s a half-hour walk from the Plaza de los Heroes, which, along with Plaza de la Libertad across the street, is the social heart of the centro. Go early, as the mercado gets hellaciously hot and crowded, and bring a camera (always ask before snapping photos of vendors or other people, por favor). The good stuff is in the permanent stalls in the heart of the market: there’s cheese, butter, lard, all different shapes of fideos (noodles), herbs and mate. Food lovers will also want to check out Agroshopping, which is held Tuedsays in the Shopping Mariscal López parking lot in the Villa Mora neighborhood, just outside of the centro. Here, you’ll find all the many types of produce grown in Paraguay (including organic and tropical fruit crops, in season), as well as prepared foods, cured meat, baked goods and fresh fruit juices.

Your best friend while planning your trip and traveling in Paraguay will be local author Romy Natalia Goldberg’s “Other Places Travel Guide: Paraguay” (2012). Her website is equally helpful for hours and locations on the above, or anything else you might want to know about the country, or Asunción, from where to get the best chipas, to the etiquette of joining a tereré or mate circle. discoveringparaguay

Visit Museo del Barro
Paraguay’s finest museum is absolutely worth the cab or bus ride (it’s about 10-15 minutes from the centro by taxi; about $6). The contemporary building is in a largely residential area, and houses a remarkable collection of folk art and indigenous handcrafts, ceremonial costumes and ceramics from across Latin America, as well as excellent contemporary Paraguayan art. There’s also a museum shop where you can purchase reproductions of ceramic figurines and other works. Note that most of the museums in Asunción are free or charge a symbolic entrance fee (approximately 10,000 Guaranis or $2.50). The Museo del Barro is $2, although it’s free on certain days (the website has details). Closed Sunday; hours vary so check the website. Grabadores del Cabichuí 2716 e/ Emeterio Miranda y Cañada, museodelbarro.org

Other museums worth checking out for a dose of Paraguayan history or culture include the Museo de la Memoria, located in the centro and dedicated to those who suffered under the Stroessner dictatorship in the latter part of the 20th century; it’s also a human rights center. The Museo Etnográfica Andres Barbero also has an outstanding collection of Paraguayan indigenous artifacts.

Walking, tereré sipping and snacking
Most of Asunción comes to a screeching halt on Sundays; the streets of the centro are nearly deserted. While a handful of restaurants, bars and shops remain open, you should leave the day open for walking tours because Asunción was made for sipping, strolling and snacking.

Take a cab or bus to the Jardin Botánico, which has over 165 acres of parkland and gardens. There’s a small (admittedly, not great) zoo, two museums and over 300 plant species, more than half of which are indigenous. It’s a great place to get a taste of Asunceno life. Join in a soccer game or tereré circle or enjoy lolling on the grass. Don’t forget a hat!

Other great places for walking are the majestic Cementerio de la Recoleta, and the newly designated (as of April 1, 2013) tourist destination of Barrio San Jerónimo. This tiny, historically relevant 19th-century neighborhood is located at the edge of the centro, just north of the Costanera. It’s part of the state tourism agency’s plan to create a destination neighborhood similar to La Boca in Buenos Aires, or Valparaiso’s Cerro Algre. The vibe is bohemian, and brightly painted, flower-bedecked houses (most of which have belonged to the same families for generations) and narrow, cobbled alleyways (where residents hid during the Chaco War) make for intriguing exploration. Right now, it’s still strictly residential, but the plan is to build restaurants, cafes and bars, and more of a cultural arts scene. Even without the retail aspect, it’s one of the most alluring spots in a city full of them. For directions, go to facebook.com/lomasanjeronimo or email lomasanjeronimo@gmail.com. The main street through the barrio is Calle Piraveve.

Hotels

Black Cat Hostel: Paraguay’s first hostel opened in late 2009, and while a handful of others have come and (mostly) gone, the Cat remains one of Asunción’s most popular accommodations for adventurers of all ages. This is due partly to the owners – Paraguayan mother-daughter team Lilia Valdez and Violeta Colman. You’ll go far to find two more genuine, kind, helpful people, and their love of Paraguay is apparent. The rest of the staff are equally wonderful and the hostel will happily provide domestic travel info and assist you with ongoing arrangements, because they understand what a challenge it can be.

The other reasons the Cat rocks? Its location, literally minutes from everything you might want to do in the centro, as well as the property itself. A former, 100-year-old private home, the hostel has large, high-ceiling dorm and private rooms with fans (AC costs extra). There’s a rooftop patio surrounded by lush greenery and historic buildings, a tiny pool, kitschy painted walls and a relaxed vibe. Bathrooms are shared, but kept spotless, as is the rest of the hostel, and breakfast, coffee and bottled water are included. If you’re not a cat person, be forewarned: resident cat Mathias rules the roost. From $11/dorm, $27/single. Eligio Ayala 129, blackcathostel.com

Hotel Palmas del Sol: If you feel like springing for something other than a hostel or dreary budget room, this modern, white, immaculate little hotel on the edge of the centro near the river will set you back $55 for a private double with bath. Rooms are small but cheerful and relatively bright with no frills. Breakfast is included and there’s also a swimming pool. Bonus: it’s on a quiet side street, yet within walking distance to everything. Avenida Espana 202, tripadvisor.com/Hotel_Review-g294080-d543605-Reviews-Hotel_Palmas_Del_Sol-Asuncion.html

Hotel La Espanola: This brick hotel has a grittier, urban feel due to the busy street it’s on, but it’s just a five-minutes walk from the Plaza(s). There’s a front garden with an amusingly phallic fountain statue, but once you get inside, the airy lobby and soothing, pistachio-colored walls of the dining room seem a world away from the heat and humidity. Rooms are small and a bit dark, and consist of little more than a bed, but are clean and comfortable. Breakfast and Wi-Fi included. From $24/single with bath and AC. Luis Alberto de Herrera N° 142, hotellaespanola.com.py

Eating & Drinking

Lido Bar: Asunción’s most beloved spot for Paraguayan cheap eats is essentially a diner with a snaking, horseshoe-counter (there’s patio seating as well, should you not wish to take advantage of the arctic chill of combined AC and ceiling fans). Old school waitresses bustle about, preparing fresh juice and slinging plates of plump, addictive empanadas and excellent chipa guazu (a cheesy, soufflé-like cornbread). The caldo de pescado (Paraguay’s famous fish soup) is reputedly the best in the city but whatever you order, it’s going to be good-and inexpensive. It’s also open late and on Sundays. Empanadas nearly the size of a softball are just $2.50. The corner of Calles Palma y Chile, facebook.com/pages/Lido-Bar/136901396379100

El Bolsi: While Bolsi could be considered Lido Bar’s competition when it comes to Paraguayan food, it’s closer to a North American coffee shop. The affordable, extensive menu also includes items like sandwiches, burgers, pasta and salads, but the real draw here are the fresh juices made to order (passion fruit? mango?) and desserts. You haven’t lived until you’ve had their dulce de leche mousse or tres leches cake. Open 24 hours; patio seating also available. Estrella 399, facebook.com/elbolsi

Street food: Asunción’s street vendors offer some of the best tastes of Paraguay. Whether they’re hawking fruit, mate cocido (hot, sweetened tea made with milk), chipas (baked corn flour-and-cheese biscuits – you’ll see vendors carrying baskets on their heads, calling out “Chiiiiiipas!”), empanadas, or any number of grilled meaty treats – lomito (steak), sandwiches, costillas (ribs), lomito arabe (schwarma) and even hot dogs. Delicious and so cheap, you can go out for a beer, afterwards. The Brittania Pub or 904 Bar (located kitty-corner from one another on Cerro Corá, in the centro) are fun spots that draw locals and tourists.

Getting Around

One advantage of having a country without almost no tourism infrastructure: Asuncion’s small, modern Silvio Petirossi International Airport is a breeze as far as arrivals and departures go. Just be sure you have your visa ready, or be prepared to purchase one at Immigration upon arrival for $160 in U.S. dollars. (Very important: make sure those bills are crisp, clean and without any visible flaws, including creases.) Buses are quite pleasant for a developing nation and the main form of transit for Asuncenos. They cost next to nothing (say, a dollar, if that). If you’re on a time constraint, however, cabs are everywhere, and you’re unlikely to need one if you stay in the centro. A trip to the Museo del Barro, by way of example, will run you about $12-$14 round trip. You can also change money or use the ATM outside of the sterile zone of the airport.

Allow roughly 20 minutes during regular hours for the cab ride to/from the airport; it will run you approximately 100 Guaranis ($24). You won’t have any trouble scoring a metered taxi in front of arrivals, or you can take the bus for $5. Look for the Linea 30 (Aeropuerto), which makes hourly stops from 5 a.m. to 9 p.m. and will drop you either mid-way between the airport and downtown, (near the Sheraton Hotel/Shopping del Sol center) or about 10 minutes away in the centro proper, along the main drag of Presidente Franco to Calle Colon (which will put you within walking distance of all downtown lodging, if you’re backpacking; you don’t want to lug suitcases over cracked and potholed sidewalks, even if they are surprisingly clean).

Safety

Paraguay is relatively politically stable; most rabble-rousing is internal, and comes in the forms of demonstrations. As far as large South American cities go, Asunción may well be the safest. This isn’t to say that you can throw caution to the wind, but, especially in the centro, it’s remarkable how relaxing it is to be a tourist. Compared to Lima or Rio, it’s safe to walk the streets during the day, or while returning from dinner or a club, even if you’re a solo female (depending upon your location, obviously). That said, this is still a machismo culture, and women need to remain aware at night, and in dodgy neighborhoods. Petty crime is the most common problem, so just use good judgment, and keep hotel doors locked and valuables out of sight (and locked up, as well), and don’t flaunt wads of cash or expensive jewelry. You’ll find Asunción is no more threatening – and, if anything, safer – than many major cities in the United States.

Don’t be concerned about the uniformed armed guards (both police and private security) that you’ll see around Asunción or elsewhere in the country, and do note that uniforms are required, unlike in some developing nations (it’s far more unnerving seeing apparent civilians with machine guns). While it’s difficult for Norte Americanos to feel casual about semi-automatics on busy city streets, the guards are a common sight in front of banks, change houses and upscale shopping malls. They’re there as a deterrent (as previously mentioned, much of Paraguay’s economic prosperity comes from cattle ranching and soy exports). Also, due to economic disparities, there’s a need to protect establishments (and patrons) where large amounts of cash are present, just like in the States. Tranquilo pa, you’ll find the guards are actually very friendly.

Seasonality

Being a tropical nation, Paraguay has a “warm” climate year-round. Fall and winter (theirs, not ours, so April-October) is the best time to visit, because things cool down a bit, although you’ll still have to contend with monsoonal rains if you’re venturing beyond Asunción, and this can mean flooding and road closures – often for days at a time. Asunción itself doesn’t get a lot of rain, and the evenings can even get a slight chill, so bring a light sweater and pants or leggings.

November through March is only for masochists, or those who enjoy vacationing in a sauna. Air-conditioning is widespread throughout the city in malls, theaters and museums but if you’re on a budget, don’t assume your accommodation (or restaurants, bars or taxis, for that matter) will have AC. Usually, it costs a bit more for a room with an air-conditioning unit, but bear in mind that this is a city made for walking, so if you tend to get wilty in any kind of heat or humidity, visit another time.

[Photo credits: Laurel Miller]