Ever since I arrived in Paraguay in February, there was a constant buzz in the air. Everyone was talking, anxiously waiting, counting down to the moment where Paraguay, a country often forgotten, would be seen by people across the world. This moment finally came when June 11th began the magical month of the Copa Mundial: the World Cup.Paraguay had qualified as one of the South American teams and then was devastated when the team's best player, Salvador Cabanas, was shot in the head in a bar in Mexico. Although he fortunately survived the attack, it was obvious the Albirroja, Paraguay's team's nickname, would have to go to South Africa without him.
In the month leading up to the World Cup, the excitement was overflowing. The one channel on basic TV used every commercial break to do a countdown to Paraguay's first game. Mayor candidates printed off and passed out World Cup schedules in little pamphlets with their pictures and a "Vote for me!" cheesy smile on the back. And the red and white striped jersey became a national uniform, each fanatico sporting his or her favorite player's number.
Por fin, the games began. The one TV channel showed each and every game. Everywhere you looked people were crowded around a small TV screen, enjoying their two favorite things: futbol y terere. It was almost impossible to get any work done due to lack of motivation and the distraction of Shakira's "Waka Waka" World Cup theme song blasting from everyone's houses, cars, and cell phones.
June 14 - Paraguay vs. Italy
Our first game against who else but the world champions, the winners of 2006. With a patriotic hopefulness and a hint of fear, everyone donned their Albirrojas and found their seats in front of a TV. I came to my school on that day and found all of the students had brought their desks outside to set up camp in front of a redneck-rigged big screen TV. They had hung up a big black tarp to block the glare, and the kids were waving little Paraguay flags that they had colored. After the teachers spent an hour lecturing the kids on how they couldn't talk or get up during the game, we got word from the Municipalidad (last minute, in typical Paraguayan fashion) that it was a national holiday, canceling school and work. We stayed since everything was already set up, but needless to say, for the other games, the school was empty.
The national anthem played, the players took the field, and the first ball was kicked. Nerves raced through my entire body; I was freaking out! Paraguay scored the first goal and the screams, the horns, the fireworks let loose! Later Italy got their revenge, and we ended up tying 1-1. Regardless we emerged into the streets proud of our team and wiping the sweat off our brows that we survived our first partido.
June 20 - Paraguay vs. Slovakia
The family I was living with during the World Cup has 2 sons, ages 10 and 11, and they are futbol fanatics. Entonces when Paraguay's next game was scheduled for Sunday morning at 8:30, we were up at 5:00 am watching all of the coverage leading up to the game. They wanted me to teach them how to make waffles or "hotcakes cuadrados" as they say in Los Simpsons, but since there are no waffle makers in Paraguay, we settled for pancakes. After 10 pancakes and only one "batter spilled on Adrian's jersey" crisis, we sat down at the table to eat our pancakes and watch our team. Paraguay won easily 2-0 and left everyone feeling confident.June 24 - Paraguay vs. New Zealand
On this game day, a high school near by invited my friend De Los Santos and I to chaperone a field trip to visit the Yacyreta Dam, the second largest dam in the world. It's about 4 hours from my site, in the department of Misiones on the border with Argentina. Up at 5 am and traveling all morning, we finally arrived at the Visitors' Center. We passed through the Museum of Natural History, and as interesting as the animals, insects, and artifacts were, it was apparent that everyone was concerned about one thing: where were we going to watch the game? The dam's HR person showed up and announced that they had arranged for a projector screen, and everyone sighed with relief. Along with the students, teachers, and museum staff, we sat and watched Paraguay tie 0-0, "bore their way to the second round" as some newspapers said but we didn't care: we were in the second round!We spent the afternoon touring the dam and looking out over the River Paraguay. It was incredible to witness something so powerful and so innovative in a country so desolate. And for me, it was even more incredible to watch the high school students get the chance to see something new, something outside of the tiny towns where they have spent their entire lives. Coupled with the success of the Albirroja, I have really fond memories of that day.
June 29 - Paraguay vs. Japan
Progressing as first in our group, we arrived to the second round, where the elimination begins. "Si o si," yes or yes, we had to win to advance. I watched this game at home with my two host brothers and some neighbors, and by the end of the game, I had no more fingernails.Despite all of our awesome chances, we could not score, but luckily Japan couldn't either and the game resulted in penalty kicks. In a nervous excitement, I could hardly watch each time a player stepped up to take his shot, and the moment when a player from Japan's shot hit the crossbar will always replay in my mind. Their mistake, our win. Exactly as the players were rushing and dogpiling on the field so were all the little boys in my house. I did my best to take pictures of the celebration, but as always, it's hard to capture a moment so perfect. We rushed out to the street and headed towards the end of town where everybody in their jerseys on their motos, in their cars, with their flags constituted the caravan that drove up and down the main avenue for 2 hours. We were ecstatic.
July 3 - Paraguay vs. Spain
Before each game, I was always overwhelmed with excitement, washing by hand my Albirroja jersey and making plans for where to watch the game, but always in the back of the mind, I was fearing the moment when our World Cup road would finish. I was dreading it; I didn't want the magic to end.On July 2nd, I was reunited with all my Peace Corps friends when we all arrived in Asuncion. We had all traveled to the capital to attend the annual 4th of July cookout at the U.S. Embassy and spend the weekend in hotels with hot showers and speaking English. Although it was the middle of winter, Friday was a beautiful, warm day, and with the hamburgers, hot dogs, and Budweiser, I could have sworn we were back in the States.
Saturday morning, we headed with our terere and our red and white jerseys towards the plaza in the middle of the city to secure a spot for the game. There was music blaring, clowns on stilts, people on horses with carts painted red, white, and blue - a typical day in Paraguay. We grabbed seats in the bleachers in front of a giant screen which one of the mayor candidates had sponsored to show the game. As he yelled into a microphone over Waka Waka, people shot off fireworks and stretched a giant flag over the stands like a parachute. The buzz that I had felt since February was at its height.
The game was a wave of emotions - Absolute thrill when we scored a goal, which they ended up calling back... Hot anger when the referees made calls against us... Relief when Spain missed their PK too... And in the end, complete devastation when the clock ticked to 90 minutes and Spain left the field as the winners.
Our road had ended, but the caravans, the Albirrojas, the Waka Waka, the patriotism continued regardless.
When I was walking back to my hotel, this guy yelled out to me, in English, "We lost! But nobody cares... We're still the best."
I believe it, Paraguay... Lo creo.
