As I flip through my mental photos of my past year in Paraguay, there's one photo that will always appear as vivid as the moment I took it.

In this picture, a stranger might see an older woman hanging up some meager clothes on the line to dry. If they're observant, they might wonder about her bright smile that lights up the night.

But to me, there's much more to it than that. This photo tells about a Paraguayan woman, best known as my host mom, Enca. It tells about her hard work. It tells about her dedication to her only daughter and the joy of her first grandchild.

Enca Torres grew up in the campo, or countryside outside of Asunción. As the oldest daughter growing up on a small farm, she had no choice but to model hard work and perseverance. This is shown in the photo, simply by the time of day it was taken: evening. Often, Enca rose before sunrise to boil water for the Paraguayan tea, tereré. She would work all day, even through the sweltering afternoon heat, through the siesta and would not rest until late at night, after her last stitch was sewn.

The dedication to her only daughter, Marcela, was very apparent, every minute of the time I spent with them. In the photo, it’s shown through Enca’s washing of the baby clothes for her daughter, Marcela. I came to live with Enca´s family during the nine months of Marcela´s pregnancy. There was never a dull moment in the house with this kind of excitement going on! Enca always made sure that her daughter was eating right. This usually meant not to eat a sweet spread, called dulce de leche right after something salty or drink water with stew; to prevent getting sick of course!

Enca’s first grandchild was born just a week before my departure to the states. In all of my time spent with my host mom, I had never seen her more energized, enthusiastic and full of delight as I remember when her grandchild, Maximiliano, was born. Because Enca didn’t have the blessing from her family when her daughter was born, it was now that she could fully experience the joy of a new birth. This deep joy seemed to seep out from each wrinkle around her eyes and mouth when she smiled.

After taking a deeper looking into this photo becomes much more than an “older woman.” It takes a humanizing form to become my host mom, Enca Torres.

Some last posts on Paraguay...

Public transportation. That is one of my favorite things about Paraguay, aside from the relationships that I made over the past year I spent there. After taking the public transportation system every day, I grew to appreciate it, even love it. So, if you're down in South America, taking public transportation is a must.

On your trip to Paraguay, as you step off the plane at the Pettrirossi Airport in Asunción, Paraguay, you can kiss goodbye to the smooth subway that may have taken you to your terminal in route to the plane bound for Paraguay. You can toss your North American bus pass, and tip your hat to the idea of a bus stop- you won't be needing to wait for any bus down south! Paraguay's buses, known as colectivos, offer the biggest bang for your buck, a grocery store on wheels, and most importantly, an eye opening view into the Paraguayan culture and hospitality.

So you know what you want to see? Don't waste your time looking for a map of Paraguayan bus lines, they don't exist! Don't get too confused by the different colors and numbers, and letters that don't seem to have many connections at all. It's best to ask a local friend; their good advice won't let you down. In hindsight, that would have been the smart thing for me to do. One hot, sweaty Saturday, priding myself of my independence, I took a bus labeled "San Lorenzo," where my sister lived, just an hour away.

Once you board, you pay the 2,100 Guaranis (about 42 cents) to the driver's assistant. I did just that on that hot summer day. Although it was labeled as a direct route to my destination, three hours later, I was able to boast that I took a tour of the entire downtown, for less than 50 cents! Where else can you get that good of a deal!?

While I was bouncing around in my bus seat, countless vendors came on selling fresh fruit, hair clips, even an infomercial for a super-special belt. Why go to the grocery story when you can just board a colectivo and get everything you need? I took advantage of the opportunity, that day, and caught the eye of a man on the street corner, crowing "chipa," the name for the warm, cheesy bread he was selling. He came on board, and we exchanged the dough.

A good Paraguayan doesn't leave home without their tea, called tereré. So while the colectivo assistant is taking coins, they also serve the driver tereré. At this time of day, there weren't many people on the bus. After the last person had gotten off, the driver and his assistant offered me tereré. It was obvious to them that I was some lost gringo. So with this simple gesture of passing me the guampa, which held the tea, they offered not only to quench my thirst and give me directions, but also extended their hospitality.
In the end, I found my way to my sister's house. I could have easily gotten off that bus, and taken a shorter route. But I'm glad I didn't. The public transportation system in Paraguay opens a window of opportunity, and the possibility to see a whole new view.