Embarking on a Journey of Self-Discovery: The Art of Getting Lost
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Chapter 1: The Unexpected Adventure
In an age where every location is just a search away, losing oneself can be the most rewarding experience.
Sometimes, we crave an opportunity to wander aimlessly. Years ago, a magazine named Afar introduced a unique idea called "Spin the Globe." The premise was simple: a writer would set aside a week, and the editors would randomly choose a destination just a day before the trip by spinning a globe.
I was fortunate enough to be part of this journey into the unknown. Here, I recount my experience during my first international trip in two years. Reflecting on it, I realize how essential it is to lose your sense of direction and how liberating it can be to embrace the unfamiliar.
I’m headed to Brazil, likely Rio de Janeiro. My editor has inadvertently let slip some details. Vaccines are necessary only for the interior regions, visas can be acquired at the airport, and the weather will be hot and humid. When I suggest packing my Speedo, my editor teasingly hints that it might be all I need. Thus, I prepare for a quintessential Brazilian beach getaway, planning to engage in outdoor workouts at Ipanema and indulge in refreshing fruit juices.
However, things take an unexpected turn when I find myself on a flight to Paraguay instead.
Paraguay is entirely landlocked, a nation of interiors. As I arrive in Asunción at dawn, my view from the airplane reveals not pristine beaches but the murky expanse of a river. While waiting at passport control, I learn that flushing toilet paper is prohibited in Paraguay; moments later, I forget and do just that in the restroom past customs.
I wince as I retrieve the paper from the toilet, only to realize that my insect repellent has exploded in my shaving kit. I spot a few seasoned American travelers at the airport. Curious, I ask them why they’re in Paraguay. One simply responds, "Just racking up countries."
Upon arriving at my hotel at 6:30 AM, I discover that my room won’t be ready for another five hours. I decide to explore the city. What was supposed to be a South American beach vacation seems to morph into something quite different. Paraguay is renowned for its wetlands, specifically the Pantanal, which extends from Brazil and is one of the largest freshwater ecosystems globally, home to unique wildlife. However, reaching the Pantanal requires advance planning, with only three flights available weekly.
As I stroll through the city, I connect with a Paraguayan journalist—a friend of a friend—who serves as my remote guide. He directs me through the peaceful, cobbled streets of Asunción, where opulent homes are hidden behind walls adorned with vibrant flowers. Yet, this serenity is soon disrupted by the cacophony of bustling traffic as I navigate back to the main roads. Eventually, I find my way to the Lido Bar in the city center, where I sit at a marble counter.
A waitress with colorful makeup serves me fish soup. “¡Con pescado del río!” she exclaims, highlighting that the dish features fish from the river. The soup is creamy and flavorful, offering a refreshing contrast to the heat outside.
Outside, the atmosphere suddenly shifts as drummers parade through the street, accompanied by young girls in grass skirts performing a local dance. I turn my attention back to my meal, inquiring about the type of fish served.
"Surubí," the waitress replies, introducing me to this giant catfish from the Paraná River. Chef Vidal Dominguez later shares that Paraguay is deeply intertwined with its rivers, being the first nation in South America to gain independence from Spain. However, the pride of Paraguayans is often challenged by Argentines who dismiss their homeland.
The waitress presents me with a bright orange fruit juice flecked with seeds. "Mburucuyá," she announces, an aphrodisiac that I can hardly comprehend. After asking about the best beach in Paraguay, she recommends Encarnación, another city with a name steeped in Catholic tradition.
I make the decision to rent a car and venture into the heart of Paraguay.
The history of Paraguay is a somber one, marked by the loss of its people during the War of the Triple Alliance. As I arrive in Encarnación, I’m greeted by a crowded beach, where umbrellas line the sandy shore, and the Argentine city of Posadas looms across the river.
Observing the beachgoers, I notice a curious pairing: slender women beside heavier men, often sipping tereré, a refreshing drink made from yerba mate and cold water. This beverage has become a cultural staple in Paraguay, especially as its popularity grows in neighboring Argentina.
I settle into a café facing the river and order a typical Paraguayan cocktail—though I am served a Sex on the Beach. As the day fades, I witness children spinning in plastic globes on the water and Jet Skis zipping past. I realize this isn’t the beach vacation I envisioned, prompting me to plan a trip to Iguazú Falls, just across the border.
The following morning, I feel a pang of guilt. If Paraguayans heard my judgments, they might view me as an Argentine, dismissing the beauty and simplicity of what they offer. Paraguay has treated me with warmth, from the delicious fish soup to the handcrafted souvenirs I bought.
As I leave Encarnación, I opt for a detour toward Ayolas, where I find a hotel frequented by fishing enthusiasts. I head to the riverbank, where the Paraná reveals its beauty, brimming with life.
The next day, a fishing boat takes me across the river, where I meet Sergio-Pablo, a local fisherman. To my surprise, he admits he doesn't actually like fish.
As we fish, he helps me with the bait and soon catches a magnificent dorado—a golden fish that leaps fiercely from the water. After a moment of struggle, the fish escapes, and I express my regret.
We continue fishing, and this time I hook a surubí. Just as I imagine serving it back to the waitress at Lido Bar, the line snaps, and the fish disappears.
Suddenly, a storm brews on the horizon, forcing us to seek shelter on an emerald island. Here, we share a communal meal of fish soup made from the very surubí caught by a local boy.
Sergio-Pablo laughs heartily, reminding me that sometimes, even those who claim not to enjoy something can find joy in it during shared moments. As laughter mingles with the sounds of the rain and the rushing river, I find myself grateful for the unexpected turns this journey has taken.
An earlier version of this article first appeared in Afar Magazine.
In this video, "How To Get Lost: Our Top Tips!" discover practical advice for embracing the journey of losing yourself while traveling.