Putting a finger on the peculiarities of the Paraguayan pulse is always a tricky affair. The pervasiveness of Paraguayan indirectness can stymie the simplest of questions. Are you going to the party tomorrow can be met with a myriad of responses.
One could make the case that cultural indirectness is indeed so profound that it is imbedded in the grammatical structure of the language. In Guarani all questions are asked in the negative form. Ndeho moa’i la fiestahape? You are not going to the party? How is one to answer this inquiry directly?
Against this cultural backdrop and the reality of widespread poverty in Paraguay, figuring out the financial and economic climate of rural Paraguayans is a daunting and delicate task indeed.
There is a way however to go about it without getting too personal, too professional and distracted by facts and figures. Beyond the traditional consumer price indexed basket of goods, such as flour, salt, oil and the like, to serve as a bench mark for measuring year on year inflation Paraguay offers a single consumer product that can get at the heart, or really the stomach, of the economic matter: chipa.
For the uninitiated, chipa, can be thought of as a corn meal Paraguayan bagel. The freshly ground corn is mixed with copious amounts of milk and lard, sprinkled with a healthy dash of anis seed, brick oven baked and served piping hot along the major paved thorough fares of Paraguay (now numbering twelve in a country the size of California) by industrious women touting massive baskets perched atop their perfectly erect heads.
For Paraguayans buying chipa is not really an option, but more a requirement born out of tradition, habit and hunger for a delicious snack. Without exception long distance buses traveling to and from the capital, stop and pick up a prearranged chipa woman, specifically at km 74 on Route Two, to sell their corn meal morsels to hungry passengers. Different bus lines work with different chipa companies, where the bus driver undoubtedly gets a free sample.
Back in 2002, a single chipa, the size of a good New York City bagel (Sara Lee supermarket bought, five to a sleeve “bagel” look a likes need not apply), sold for 1000 guaranies, the Paraguayan currency which floats freely against the dollar and is presently valued at 1 USD = 4900 guaranies. Thus, a chipa cost roughly twenty cents. To complete the comparison, a typical Paraguayan day laborer makes 25,000 guaranies or five dollars a day.
Over the last half dozen years however, while the price of chipa has remained stable at 1000 guaranies , the size has steadily decreased to that of a Thomas English Muffin. Unscientifically, this reflects two trends: the rise in the cost of raw materials (i.e. corn, lard) and the idea that 1000 guaranies is the Paraguayan psychological price akin to 99 cents.
Returning to Paraguay after a two year absence, I was eager (and hunger) to continue my chipa price index study on the rural economic situation of Paraguayans.
Traveling out to the eastern department of Caazapa, I made my requisite stop along Route Two to purchase my tasty, Paraguayan roadside snack. Driving in a private vehicle, I rolled down the window and opened my wallet, not knowing what to expect.
The woman, basket atop her head, leaned in and handed me a chipa. The size was back close to its original (2002 baseline) but the price was now double: 2000 guaranies. Being caught short, I had to reach deep into my pocket to make up the difference.
The sweetness of the snack was the same as I had remembered, but I got the feeling that over the intervening years this slice of rural Paraguayan life had become a bit more sour and hard to swallow.
Chipa in hand, Paraguayans can attest to the following as they scratch out a subsistence living in an acute economic environment: the problem with “normal” is that over time everything gets worse.
