The great white
trek to Paraguay
| SOUTH AFRICANS |
| Some 30
conservative South African farming families fled the 'rainbow
nation' for Paraguay, where crime has proved non-existent -- but
back-breaking work hasn't yet brought dividends, writes ALAN
GIGNOUX
|
"MOST people are here because they
thought South Africa was going to burn. I am here because it did not,"
said a newcomer to South Africa's 30-family community in Caaguazu,
eastern Paraguay.
"De Klerk sold out his country"; "We did not even give them a fight";
"It is better that my grandchildren are Paraguayan" are some of the
comments from the more conservative members of this new exile community.
The Kruger family came to
Paraguay to escape crime. Jacs Kruger hope to provide a better
future for his son Johan (below) on his cattle farm near
Caaguazu
|
For some of them, racism played a part in
their decision to leave South Africa -- but so did crime, economic
factors and concern about the future of their families. Most of them
have not succeeded in their adopted country. Most merely survive and
some, after bad business deals, have had to leave Paraguay penniless.
In 1978, on a visit to South Africa, then-Paraguayan leader General
Alfredo Stroessner was impressed by the success of South African
farmers. The Paraguayan agricultural sector was in a slump, and
Stroessner invited South African farmers to settle in his country and
help to revive it.
Caaguazu, situated halfway between Brazil and Paraguay's capital
Asuncion, has much in common with Africa. Uncultivated land is thick
with bush, similar to the Northern Cape. Its cultivated rolling green
fields could pass for KwaZulu-Natal. "It is a hard land to succeed in.
You need a lot of start-up capital and hard work in order to make it.
And once you have paid your $700/ha, the land is yours forever. Resale
is impossible," said Hannes van der Walt, an adventurous farmer.
Van der Walt had been making a living in South Africa turning around
unprofitable farms and selling them at a profit when he heard about
Paraguay. A portly man with tanned, leathery skin testifying to his
rugged life, he saw a new challenge -- an opportunity not to be missed.
Six years ago, they went to Paraguay. Van der Walt, his wife Stella
and son Phillip immediately set to work to clear the untouched bush and
build a family home. In South Africa, they had grown vegetables but
without enough rainfall in Caaguazu to make that viable, they decided to
raise cattle.
Last year they were joined by their daughter Charmaine and son-in-law
Robert who are expecting their first child. A city slicker, Robert is
now responsible for rounding up cattle on horseback for slaughter. He
also has to assist in their slaughter.
Van der Walt was not only lured by adventure but also by low taxation
and high interest rates. "How can you beat 10% taxes and interest rates
given by Paraguayan banks at 26% per annum?"
With an emigration allowance of R250 000, few can afford to live even
modestly without working. Most have to start a business of some sort, as
jobs are practically non-existent.
It was crime that impelled Jacs Kruger to leave his family farm in
Heidelberg. He began looking for somewhere to settle after surviving an
attack which left a bullet lodged in his father-in-law's head. Kruger
could not qualify to emigrate to Canada or Australia, so he decided to
come to Paraguay and raise dairy cattle. Crime is virtually non-existent
in his adopted country. He has no bars on his windows and his dogs are
pets, not protectors. The last murder in Caaguaza was more than two
years ago and in the three years Kruger has been there he has lost only
four cows, fewer than he would lose in a month in South Africa.
Kruger's main problem is
distribution. Only a dirt road leads to his farm and pasteurisation
facilities do not exist. He survives by selling milk door-to-door. "I
want a better future for my children where they can walk the streets
without fear and not have to feel guilty about the past," he said.
Heinie Zietsman has a container in his backyard full of Simba chips
and doughnuts, all that's left of his failed attempt to open a store in
Caaguazu. He's a dairy farmer now.
Zietsman's advice to newcomers: "Visit two or three times before
making the final decision. Sit for six months before making any business
decisions. Watch what is going on around you -- and before you leave
South Africa, learn Spanish."
One of the first arrivals in Caaguazu were the Spannenberg family.
Eleven years ago, tired of the weather in England and not ready to move
back to South Africa, they were looking for another challenge. After
watching a Paraguayan promotional film, they decided to come and see for
themselves. The Copelands sawmill on the main road, Ruta Siete, was the
challenge they found. Today they export furniture components to the US.
Johan Spannenberg's only complaint is a lack of commitment to
quality. "Paraguayans do not see quality as important. This is a problem
for the North American market, where quality is everything. And
technology is many years behind. Sometimes the telephones don't work."
The Spannenbergs' son is a Paraguayan drag car champion, and married
to a local woman.
The Hamilton family came to Paraguay with a dream of starting an
ostrich farm, chalets and a crocodile farm. They have had to settle for
ownership of the Apache restaurant. Business is slow, but a small profit
can be made.
"You cannot become rich here, but if you want to live in peace and
tranquillity, Paraguay is an ideal place," said John Hamilton. They have
a half-Paraguayan grandchild and another on the way.
Las Palmas Hotel sits justs off Ruta Siete. In his previous life,
owner Johan Strauss was a carpet salesman in Randburg. At his other
hotel down the road, used by locals for illicit relationships, business
is booming. On any given day, by 11am, more than 20 couples have passed
through Strauss's doors, paying $25 for an hour of discretion.
Four years ago, realising they would not qualify for emigration to
Canada, Strauss and his family arrived in Paraguay. As Strauss puts it:
"It's the poor man's option."
The recipe for success for Strauss and the Spannenbergs is to do
something the Paraguayans cannot do. Don't try to compete with
Paraguayans; their margins are too low. And don't open a business that
attracts people with disposable income -- there are very few of them.
Unlike other ethnic communities across the world, the South Africans
in Paraguay are far from unified. In some instances, they have even
tried to sabotage each other. South Africans have been known to sell
stolen cars to other South Africans, knowing full well that if the
police found the car, it would be confiscated.
However, efforts have been made to build some sort of community. The
Afrikaanse Protestantse Kerk was established but bickering and jealousy
soon thinned out the congregation. One church member was asked to leave
because he had a Paraguayan girlfriend. As he so eloquently put it: "I
do not need to go through Bloemfontein to reach God."
The next generation will be the ones that truly prosper. Strauss's
children speak Spanish and some Guarani, the local Indian language.
Eventually South Africa and Afrikaans will be only a memory.
Most people have cut their ties and have made Paraguay home. A few
receive newspaper cuttings from relatives and even fewer return to South
Africa for the occasional visit. Not one of them went to Argentina when
the South African rugby squad played there last year.
Most want South Africa to prosper and respect President Nelson
Mandela. However, they do not want to be part of the rainbow nation,
preferring to deal with the corruption, lack of infrastructure and
cultural differences in Paraguay. Most just want to enjoy the peaceful
life here.
Their mark has been made. As one taxi driver commented: "We
Paraguayans need to learn to work the way the South Africans do." --
Mail&Guardian, January 19, 1998.