CPI: CHIPA PRICE INDEX

by Leo Redmond

September 12, 2009

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.

LIFE IN PERSPECTIVE

The animosity between Paraguayans and Argentines is good natured but visceral. From boasts and brags of cultural superiority to a devastating 19^th century war, the Triple Alliance War 1861- 1865, that literally decimated the Paraguayan population (Argentina was helped out by Brazil and Uruguay but in their defense, Paraguay did start it, declaring war on all three), this rivalry finds its outlet in all forms of life.

Being South America, a soccer match played between the two national teams serves as unparalleled battle ground for this never ending war. Wednesday night in downtown Asuncion, the Paraguayan capital, in the form of a 2010 World Cup Qualifying Match, the latest Paraguay – Argentina skirmish was fought.

In an unprecedented turn of events, Argentina, a perennial soccer powerhouse and historically a shoe in for a World Cup berth, came to town needing a win to keep their flagging campaign alive. Paraguay, on the other hand, was in the position where a win would seal their invitation to the big dance in South Africa in June of next year. (After two years of home and away tournament play, only four out of the ten South American teams will earn berths to the World Cup). Although unknown on the world stage for anything else, in soccer circles, the small, six million strong land lock nation of Paraguay is a force to be reckoned with.

Qualifying for the World Cup at home and at the expense of their arch rivals, Argentina, were another loss would virtually eliminate them from World Cup contention was almost too much for Paraguayans to handle.

At kick off, the energy in the stadium was electrifying and the silence throughout the country was absolute. The nation had stopped, all motion suspended, everyone glued to their televisions and collectively holding their breath. Across the border in Argentina, there was no less concentration and devotion.

In this corner of the world, on that night, there was only one thing and one thing only that mattered: the best eleven men of each country playing ninety minutes of soccer to decisively determine the power, glory and right to go to the World Cup.

Despite the best of intentions and a commensurate amount of hard work, Paraguay, in terms of soccer, history and politics, is benighted and hapless. The national team, for as talented as they are, always finds away to let victory slip through their fingers, like a late opponent’s goal sneaking past the goalie’s outstretched hands.

The Paraguayan populace knows this all to well and, during the run up to the game, they were on their knees praying for a different outcome to the same old story.

On a night that will be talked about and lionized for generations, the national side did not disappoint. Playing as a team, aggressive and hungry for a win, Paraguay beat the Argentines 1-0. Paraguay hit the post twice before they found the back of the net. Tensions and jockeying for the ball were unrelenting throughout, ending in a red card for an Argentine player. Despite being a man and a goal down, the ultimate opportunity for vindication if not outright victory was Argentina’s. But the striker missed tapping in the superbly placed cross in front of an open net by centimeters in the final minute of the match.

As the ball spun out of bounds and into oblivion, the nation of Paraguay leapt up in euphoria as the national team stepped into history.

In a single, 1-0 victory over Argentina, the plight of Paraguayans was forgotten. No one left the stadium or turned off their televisions. This was not just soccer. It was life, renewed, reborn and rejuvenated.

As the players danced, the fans cheered and flags waved, the President of Paraguay, Fernando Lugo, stepped onto the pitch. With six million people enthralled to a Paraguayan victory, he did the only logical thing: he declared Thursday, the following day, a National Holiday.

Schools were closed. Government offices shut down and stores remained unopened.

The mundane transactions of life could wait another day. An Argentine loss, a Paraguayan World Cup berth. This was big. Down right momentous and needed to be put into proper perspective.