My one visit to Paraguay was in 1996, and undocumented. I walked over the bridge from the Brazilian town of Foz do Iguaçu into Ciudad del Este, hung around a few hours, then walked back. I did not get my passport stamped, since I wasn't going any farther into the country. Nobody was. People came here for one reason only: to shop. I'd heard about this. But seeing it was something else.
Upon very mature consideration, I'd have to say that shopping is pretty unidimensional. There's either a little or a lot of it. Likewise with "buying." But "selling" can be far more varied. The things people think you might want to buy; the looks on their faces as they present such things to you; how they react when you fail to. I'm not saying Paraguayans are astonishing. But they are surely up there.
In 2012 I passed through Foz do Iguaçu again, but crossed into Argentina, which is an entirely different story. I do not know if Argentines treat Ciudad del Este as Brazilians do, but I wouldn't be surprised. Here, I think, is how it works: Brazil (and maybe Argentina too) protects its evidently frail industries with tariffs, so if you're in these countries and want, say, a really good stereo, you're stuck with inferior domestic products. But Paraguay, I cruelly surmise, hasn't any industries to protect, and is perfectly happy to import fancy stuff, then turn right around and resell it to all comers. Who do not have to come far: just over the border!
In 2019 I decided to revisit Brazil's frontier with Paraguay, to see if this sort of thing still went on. Answer: yes. 'Course I only checked two other places, but those are just about the only other ports of entry. Latin American countries generally have as little as possible to do with one another - what's the point? But when there is a point, it's interesting.
It's interesting to see someone carrying a new TV on his back, uphill, in the rain. For some reason, I assumed this item was the very first on the guy's shopping list. Maybe my theory that shopping differs only in degree, not in type, is wrong. Maybe lots of shopping can become frantic, disorganized shopping.
I must admit I saw nothing like this on my most recent approximation. At Mundo Novo, the highway abruptly swelled to a divided six-lane with an exit for Salto del Guayra, itself not visible from here, although the Brazilian tax authority's building sure was. The highway just as abruptly contracted to an undivided two-lane. As for Ponta Porã, it ran right alongside Pedro Juan Caballero for at least a mile. Over there were big shiny enclosed shopping centers, and American fast-food places looking at least as sleek as they would back in America. Over here were vendors for stuff only locals would want, like household propane tanks.
Ponta Porã was biggish but not much to look at. I recalled that it was mentioned in a John Grisham novel. Maybe the one titled The Novel. The place is as Brazilian as any other in the country. Maybe the author picked it because his fictional fugitive was likely to settle near a border, as if that might serve as a bolthole, and there aren't many such options in Brazil. It presents no advantages otherwise.
In any case, regardless of what I saw right here, I could guess at the scale and variety of commerce from billboards glimpsed en route. Electronics, of course. But other appliances too. Portable air-conditioners, and I could easily imagine a Brazilian carrying one of those on his back! Fortunately the terrain at Ponta Porã is pretty flat. Lots of clothing, and jewelry. But also Oreos. I don't think I've ever seen authentic Oreos in Brazil, which is a shame, because there sure are a lot of local and very inferior wannabes. And Heinz ketchup. Brazil already has plenty of ketchup, and I think even Heinz is represented - seldom using any brand, I just can't recall. Be that as it may, this is a long way to drive for still more ketchup. (I suspect Foz do Iguaçu retains primacy as a gateway to the excitements of Paraguay simply because it is the closest to São Paulo.) But who among us who already enjoys a name-brand condiment will glide past the exact same condiment only cheaper?
None of this was as captivating as Ciudad del Este had been. As I say, it was raining the morning I was there, and all the street vendors - which I think was all the vendors - I don't recall any shopping centers or even any stores - erected acres of black plastic to stay dry. It was a long winding tour of a big friendly cavern, the galleries so to speak lit with electric lights strung all over. At one point guys tried to sell me little handheld battery-powered sewing machines. They might have been powerful enough to baste a handkerchief onto a handkerchief. I wasn't taking. Then they showed me condoms. I wasn't taking. Oddly, they seemed to have run out of ideas after that.
Then another guy hove into view. I mean when I turned he swung to match my motion. He looked me in the eye. His hands were together, and he raised them. Something projected right at me. It was too funny to be scary. It was a spring-loaded tape measure, built to send the tape out as well as reel it back in.
I did not buy that. I did not buy anything. It did later occur to me that beer might be nice, a sixpack as a souvenir. I went out into the rain and looked. But I saw none. Brazil may want more ketchup but beerwise it believes itself already OK. Or if it isn't, this is not a problem that Paraguay can be trusted to solve. Soon, I walked back across the bridge. Since I was early, I mean compared to the real shoppers, two of the three lanes were still pointing toward Paraguay. I understood that later, the signs would be flipped and two (or all three?) lanes would point back to Brazil.
© 2019 J.A.Hutter