East of Nowhere

It is not every day that one gets to see a true wonder of the natural world. Today was such a day. As I write this, my words are still wet from the mists of Iguacu. At the fringe of dripping jungle, I watched hundreds of cascades, sliding like sheets falling from their basalt bed. Torrents of water gushed all around me like some type of sublime dreamscape. And why not, it is a place of dreams after all. For years I have wanted to see Iguacu, the place where three nations meet out in the jungle. It was one of the biggest ambitions on my list. And now it will fade into its place in my past as somewhere I have felt and lived in for a moment.

The feeling couldn't last forever and I was soon on the move again. In the heat of the afternoon I made the spontaneous decision to hit a city bus to the border and on into nowhere: Paraguay. I couldn't resist stopping for the night in Ciudad del Este as I had heard a rumor that this was a dangerous and violent city where gunmen prowl the streets after dark. I had left my friend Sohail behind and as a result, forged ahead with no map other than some crude lines scrawled hastily in my notebook. As I walked through the streets many people called out to me and even beckoned me over. I am sure they were up to no good and I waved them off dismissively. .

My first impression of the city was not good. All of the shops had shut and there were bales of trash everywhere – odd things, like a pile of denim cut from the legs of jeans. As I waded through styrofoam cups and plastic bags, I began to remark some people passed out on the sidewalk. One poor soul had apparently shit his pants and then decided to drop them to his knees, though he did not finish the job of cleaning himself up and remained in a state of unconscious intoxication, caked in his own faeces. Since my hotel is around the corner, he makes an unmistakeable landmark.

The hotel itself is nothing special, just another cheap room; this one going for 80 000 Guaranies (which I hope is about $20 bucks). The room was actually nice with air conditioning and a big double bed. As an added touch, the guy from the front promptly offered to set me up with some whores but I gracefully declined.

After a brief look around, I took a long walk to cash up. I had a hard time finding a “cajero automatico” (ATM) but my frustration was tempered by a seemingly endless procession of pale white women with dark black hair. Notwithstanding the pretty faces, I felt I had seen enough and took the decision to get a ticket out the following morning. Since I had no map, or any idea where the terminal was located, I headed to a main road an began following buses that I saw on the street. I hoped for the best and soon began to see bigger long distance coaches. I followed as best I could in the heavy heat of the low afternoon sun.

As I walked, the first impression that I had taken gave way to another side of the city. There were many parks that were beautifully landscaped, though they all seemed full of trash. I entered one designed like a chinese garden, complete with a round entrance way in the wall, gilded pagodas and traditional bridges over a small stream that made the whole thing feel downright feng shui. There was still loads of trash everywhere, but the grass looked freshly cut and the buildings were in nice shape. This provided a stark contrast not only to the trash, but also to the gang of filthy beggar kids congregated around a pavillion. I stood and watched in disbelief as little flames flickered from lighters as they freebased whatever poison they had got their hands on. I felt sad to see the little guys smoke from the straw. They couldn't have been more than seven or eight years old.

I continued on my way past red earth football pitches that sprawled for miles down the side of the road. Every single one was in use by full sides playing hard against each other. Everyone had gotten involved, whether young or old, fat or thin. I watched for a while, then off anew as the twilight began to set in.

There I was in the unknown again, no guide, no directions, following a road on an impulse. The dying light of the day took on a greater significance for me. How much more of this did I have left. How many more unknown streets, unknown cities, countries, people would I come across. The twilight of my journey is upon me now, and I began to think back to the big experiences that these two and a half years of vagabonding have brought – the faces I have seen, the languages I have heard, the food I have tasted. In the end, I could not escape thoughts of the people who had entered my life along the way. That is what I take from the journey, more than the waterfalls, the mountains, the deserts, the jungles, the continents and the oceans. And now it begins to fade into twilight.

I wandered on without certainty and had the good luck to see a big bus turn a corner. I followed suit and soon saw the terminal ahead. Lost in thought, with no idea where I was going, I must have walked for about an hour, but for whatever reason it had worked.

As I walked back to my hotel, I hardly noticed the garbage everywhere, the fallen electrical wires sizzling in heaps on the sidewalk, the other man that had fallen, passed out cold on the road next to his shit covered chum. All I could think about was living on the edge of nowhere.