“The Man” verses 5 Hippies and 1 Frenchie

July 11th, 2011: “The Man” behind the immigration desk in Paraguay with the legal magical stamp for your passport didn’t want to let Cecile or 5 other hippies into his country after I was easily granted access from this Paraguayan troll. The only two differences between Cecile, the others and myself was that my mother vaginally released me in a different Geographic location and that I didn’t go to Brazil the other day to see Iquazu from “that” angle. Sadly...as the picture Cecile took from the Brazilian side shows (above)...that angle seemed to be a very very very nice angle.

My decision to not go and see the Brazilian side of Iquazu Falls wasn’t that I am against the Brazilian bikini wax. It was legally based because I needed a Visa and Cecile didnt.

After baby talking back and forth over the counter with the Paraguayan troll on Cecile’s behalf…it seemed that he was playing a game of “Simon Says.” Everyone but myself needed to cross the bridge and get a Brazilian entry stamp and exit stamp. The other Immigration officer sitting next to him was looking down shaking his head as he knew the others were being forced into playing a game nobody wanted to play…saying that he couldn’t do anything because “The Man” was his boss.

Due to the bus needing to continue its journey, I pulled our backpacks from underneath the bus at the border crossing. While standing with our packs we were informed that 3 of the 5 hippies received the magic stamp. Rushing back to immigration as the bus was pulling away…the soon to be fired Immigration officer applied the magic stamp after a little more begging and pleading.

Busting out the door as if we just robbed the place we stopped the bus as we tossed our bags back into the stomach of the iron beast and continued our trip into Paraguay.

A trend is beginning to appear…schedule more time when crossing the border in Paraguay, just in case you are potentially selected to play a forced game of “Simon Says.”

Round and Round the bus goes…

July 7th, 2011: Round and round the bus goes, when we will stop and become legal nobody knows! A simple one hour bus ride to cross the border back into Argentina became a five hour bus ride. Asking 2 times did not put a spark in our brain-dead drivers mind as we went flying by immigration out of Paraguay and into Brazil. After all of the confusion settled, we were too far into Brazil to just get off the bus and jump on another one.

Reaching the Argentina border, we were then placed onto a bus going back to Paraguay. Finally arriving back in Paraguay, we had our passports quickly stamped and jumped on a different bus…again, heading for our original destination, Puerto Iguazu – home of Iguazu Falls.

From now on, I will have to sit closer to the driver so I can conveniently remind him every 5 minutes, until he cannot wait to kick me off the bus.

Jumped out of a moving bus with Nitros

July 16, 2011: After seeing the 2nd largest dam in the world outside Ciudad del Este, I was on the hunt for the 2nd largest dam chicken in the city, Ciudad del Esta. Since Paraguay is the second most poorest country in South America, it seems that economically challenged countries naturally contain plenty of economical roadside rotisserie chicken restaurants. They sort of complement each other. I will turn Colonel Sanders and his mutated beasts at Kentucky Fried Chicken down any day for some local home grown chicken – without the hormones.

For some odd reason, when you desire something…it is plentiful. But, when it is time to act on your desires…you can’t find it. Walking everywhere in this town, I found nothing but a place with something that resembled a dried shriveled granny chicken.

Pretty much giving up, on the bus back to my hotel, I noticed a few rows of chickens speared horizontally. Quickly telling Cecile, we somewhat quickly decided to exit the moving bus…but I did so without telling the driver. Dropping someone off moments prior…I didn’t want to bother the driver to have him stop again, so I happened to make it out the door in stunt man fashion. It seemed as if the driver just pushed the Nitrous Oxide button under his dash prior to me taking my last step off bus. I somehow landed in a forced run, inches from some raised cement pylons - potentially painful raised cement pylons. Cecile was smart enough to wait for our driver to stop.

Mental Note: Don’t jump out of a moving bus…that has Nitrous Oxide.

Can a terd freeze in your intestines…

July 5, 2011: Can a terd freeze in your intestines while still alive? This is the thought that came across my mind as I sat in the coldest room to date on my South American adventures. When you can blow smoke in your very own room without having to light anything legal or illegal, you can safely say that it is…cold. You would expect this in Antarctica, but not in Paraguay.

I ask the man at the reception desk for a heater - a word that I even looked up to make sure I didn’t mess my request up. He responded, shaking his head up and down, saying something I did not quite understand…but, the up and down motion he made was the international sign for, “yes”. Looking up the word “blanket” just to make sure he didn’t say, “blanket,” it assured me that the word I didn’t understand was definitely not, “blanket”. When he came and knocked at my door about 20 minutes later, I held in a massive hit of cold air…opening the door…standing there, he was holding a big stack of…”more blankets.”

The local coffee shop ended being my emergency shelter during my visit to Encarnacion. I officially thank them that I will not yet be an amputee prematurely due to frostbite.

A few months ago I hiked with Jesus…today I saw Jesus

July 5, 2011: About 6 months ago in the Lakes district of Chile I met a man that looked like Jesus and hiked with him (BLOG POST: Hiking with Jesus). The past 2 days, I have been exploring the ruins of the Jesuit missions in Argentina and Paraguay and the last place I went to see, happened to be, Jesus. As with most ruins…I am glad that I saw them, but I don’t get too excited over small amounts of rubble that you have to put heavy amounts upon your imagination.

Meeting a young woman who didn’t have enough of the local currency to see Jesus after visiting the ruins in Trinidad…I exchanged some money for her so that we could all see Jesus together. Estimating her age and by what gravity has not yet done to her, I would say that she was about 20 years old. This person should be a role model for other young women that you can travel alone. But if you do decide to travel alone…you can follow her footsteps but don’t follow her actions. Such as…carrying around your laptop under your arm while exploring in a protective sleeve, or say…leave it on some stairs while you look around the ruins expecting that nobody will happily borrow it.

I am unable to give her the gift of common sense, but I did ask her if she owned a backpack for her computer hoping that it would, compute.