We left Panama City on Tuesday April 15 and arrived in Asuncion early the next morning, Wednesday April 16. First, we had a short flight to Bogota, Colombia. We passed through customs on both sides of the airport then waited for our flight to board. For about a week I had been coping with a dry, scratchy throat that I thought was a side-effect of my bladder medication. But as we waited in Bogota, my symptoms seemed to be escalating with an increasingly sore throat and achy, itchy ears, which I mentioned to Clark.
Bogota from the air. This reminds me that we had an unexpected delay on our approach. We could feel the plane preparing its descent and even the landing gear had come down. Then suddenly, the engines revved, and we went into a steep ascent as the landing gear pulled up. It might have inspired a few extra beats in my heart. We ended up circling Bogota to line up for a second approach which ended in success.
Bogota airport
Colombia tourism ads
One of the tricky things about crossing borders is the inconvenience of switching cell services for each country. We have to be prepared that we won't have any cell service for several hours, or maybe a day. One good detail is there are apps available to purchase and pre-load e-sim cards rather than us needing to find a local store to replace a physical sim card. I implemented the e-sim app strategy when we left Costa Rica. I used an e-sim for Panama and had one available for Paraguay. The thing is, as a traveler, it becomes necessary to acquire some multi-tasking skills and an ability to remain calm, especially if you have kids with you because I'm pretty sure at certain moments Clark and I both had short periods of anxiety signaled by sweating, an increased heart rate, and a general feeling of the world spinning around us or maybe it's in our heads. We don't exactly "blend in" in Latin America and especially in Paraguay, where we were quick to observe, there were very few tourists, aka Europeans or Caucasian looking folks.
The picture I want to paint is this: walking through the halls of an unfamiliar place at 2 a.m. our time after flying through the evening and night, trying to read signs in a foreign language surrounded by a crowd of people ready to get to the next destination, hoping we end up on the correct side of immigration, while also switching on an e-sim OR trying to hook up to the arriving airport's Wi-Fi, which usually requires adding some form of contact information and all of this because we know we will soon be tasked with communicating in a foreign language with immigration officials and it is helpful to have access to the google translator if needed and our kids are trusting us to navigate them safely. If we start freaking out, everyone freaks out. I can imagine Clark might have more pressure on him, as the designated leader of the pack.
The exchange rate in Paraguay. They use PGY here which is Guaranis. Guarani is also their primary language after their indigenous tribal people, the Guarani. It's about 8000 PGY for every dollar.
Oh. I almost forgot. While that is all happening, we were also each trying to communicate with individuals about how we were going to transport from the airport to our apartment. Our Airbnb host had, unbeknownst to me, messaged during the flight letting us know he would be picking us up. This is 4 a.m. in Paraguay, so I thought that was extremely generous, to say the least.
The university had already booked an Uber driver for us, even though we weren't sure we could get all our luggage in. Our host thought not and insisted on meeting us anyways since he has a double cab pick-up truck. Henry insisted we should cancel the Uber, but we couldn't because we didn't book it. As we exit the airport we are looking for our Uber AND our host. It was a little chaotic. Clark was communicating with the Uber, I was communicating with Henry, all this is through texting while trying to haul our bags through the airport and read foreign signs. We ended up using both. We introduced the Uber driver to Henry since neither of them spoke English and those guys worked out how we were going to get the bags moved. It was fortunate Henry had come because we would have had two suitcases on our laps in the backseat.
Once we came to the apartment and Henry gave us all the instructions, the kids and Clark immediately collapsed into bed a little before 6 a.m. To us, it was 4 a.m. since Paraguay is two hours ahead of Panama. I was still wound up so I didn't go to bed until close to 7. Clark woke up before I did and went for a stroll around the neighborhood. When I woke up, I was SICK. My ears, throat and inside of my mouth felt like I had eaten a flaming blow torch. I couldn't swallow and could barely talk. I called Clark and requested he return home to help me figure out how to see a doctor. After calling our friend Professor Moss, whose been here, and communicating with the university, we had a couple ideas. The university liaison advised we should go to the emergency room. Profe Moss said maybe a pharmacist would take pity on us since we were foreigners; maybe they would sell us some medicine without a consultation.
I didn't want to go to the emergency room because I am in a foreign country and who knows what else I might be exposed to. Even in the USA, everyone knows a clinic is preferrable to an emergency room. I found a well rated clinic and we ubered there only to find that google wasn't aware it was closed. Probably the fact it was Holy Week played a factor? We caught another Uber back to the hospital in our neighborhood and our foreign emergency room adventure began.
The first thing we noticed about Paraguay was the dialect. We couldn't tell if we had suddenly regressed in our Spanish listening skills or if Paraguayans were THAT hard to understand. When we tried to speak English, they stared blanky back at us, even though English music plays on the radio. Huh? We were disoriented and confused, functioning with 3 hours of sleep for the past 24 hours. We used our translator to help us understand what we had to do. I had to add my name to list to get a number to see the doctor. When my number was called after maybe 10 minutes (not bad), a nurse had me sit in a side hall to take my pulse and ask why I was there. I explained through my translator. Then I was moved into the curtained area as is pretty standard for an emergency room. We waited about 30 minutes to the background music of an elderly lady moaning.
The doctor came in. He was maybe in his early 50's. We quickly realized we had to communicate through the translator. Thank God I had an e-sim that worked! Clark hadn't had time to locate a local store to get a physical sim card, so he didn't have service. After explaining my symptoms and he looked in my throat noting it was very inflamed, the doctor gave me some instructions. He wanted to spray an antiseptic/anesthetic into my throat and give me a cortisone shot. I declined the spray, telling him that when I had my tonsils removed I used that spray once and I thought I would choke and suffocate. He said he didn't think I had an infection because I was fevering enough (I don't really fever with any illness) and didn't recommend a culture because I didn't have tonsils. Then he offered the cortisone shot again. I declined knowing that if I had a bacterial infection, cortisone could possibly suppress my immune system further. I was feeling like this was strep related. Having resigned ourselves to not getting an antibiotic, I explained my second problem about my UTI symptoms. This time he agreed I should have a culture and said maybe my throat infection was a symptom of my UTI. He wrote the order for a urine culture, and we were dismissed.
I delivered the order to the lab and was seen immediately. They took a tiny vial of blood for a CBC then I offered up my pee sample in a cup. We were able to communicate through the translator that we should return later that day for the blood results and in 3 days for the urine. I thought it was going to be a long 3 days. Clark suggested we try out Dr. Mosses suggestions and ask at the pharmacy, so we did. At first the pharmacist said no but then asked if I had a consult. Clark said, "Yes but the communication was difficult" and I showed her the translator screenshot of my symptoms. She immediately brought out a Z-pack! That is exactly what we were hoping for! She is my guardian angel!
I started my Z-pack and my CBC showed evidence of a UTI. We were waiting on the culture to get an antibiotic appropriate for the UTI. But the next day, the next day (Thursday) my throat was back to just being scratchy. But by Friday, I developed a head cold and lagged in energy.
Friday evening we trekked our way into downtown to start to discover our new city. Clark thought there was a procession for Good Friday but after waiting past the time, he realized all the events had happened the weekend before for Palm Sunday. In Paraguay, the biggest events to celebrate Easter happen at the beginning of Holy Week then, according to Henry, the city people leave for the country.
Of course, while we were waiting in the dusk, the mosquitos found me, and I figured out I would need to spray down every time I went out because each time I'm bit by a new mosquito, my old bites from Costa Rica and Panama flare up! I figured out this is an allergic reaction called papular urticaria, not to mention there is a slight risk of dengue or yellow fevers.
On Sunday, we ventured to church, and it was probably the most bizarre church meeting in my faith I've ever had. Maybe being Easter contributed? It probably beats a couple memorable meetings from my mission or at least I have a top 3 now. We showed up a little early and were welcomed immediately by the missionaries, both from the USA. Except when we spoke English to them, they had this deer-in-the-headlights look of panic. These guys hadn't spoken English in a WHILE. One of the guys made a fair attempt to speak with us and the other one, spoke to us in a sort of slow Spanglish. My heart went out to these guys primarily because I know the experience of having reverse culture shock and they are certainly in for it when they return. It's all part of the growing experience you naively sign up for when you accept the responsibility of a mission call.
The missionaries told us that church usually starts about 10-15 minutes late and there were 23 members. We were so surprised because the chapel is normal sized and multi-floored. The chapel is large enough that even though 24 people (including our 4) were there, it felt like 10. There was only one teenager. There was only one sort of younger wife who directed the music. There were some middle-aged men, and the rest were elderly folks. The elderly man blessing the sacrament gave the most heartfelt prayer! It being Easter Sunday, we only had the sacrament hour. A couple people came up and greeted us but to my surprise no one wished us "Felices Pascuas". In fact, while being out and about, I heard no one wish anyone Happy Easter which is quite different than in the USA, even with all our commercialism. One lady came up to greet me and instead of the standard "Oh-lAAaa! Como estas?" she asked, "Como se llama?" to which I replied, "Gracias". When she repeated her question, I registered I had responded automatically without comprehending what she said. It's amazing how we get so automatic in our greetings with people in a way that we aren't really aware that we don't even care what reply people will have for us.
We just say, "How are you?" and expect "Fine". Our greetings are so insincere it's disturbing to think about. When is the last time you really SAW a person, really LOOKED at the person and REGISTERED the PERSON, when you greeted them? It's just a good reminder that sometimes we need to slow down and BE PRESENT. It's so VALUABLE and NECESSARY to CONNECT with another person, another human, a brother or sister of our one great creator. It's such a BLESSING we take for granted. Time is fleeting and doesn't belong to us.
After church I rested up and then had a nice long chat with my parents and my sister friend, Mindi. Oh, it was so wonderful to hear their voices. It's amazing how God turns everything for good. As miserable as I was being sick, it was preparing me to return to the USA.
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