If I were to tell you that the center of the universe is a city called Ciudad del Este in Paraguay... you would say “Dash Deringer Has lost his god damn mind... where is Ciudad Del Este...?”
Yes... not too many people have heard of it... but it is... the center of the universe...
There are cities in the world that are identified with specific services... London and finance... Singapore and offshore banking... Panama and IBC’s... Rio and sun-kissed beauties...Las Vegas and sin... Monaco and high priced hookers... Mumbai and cheesy movies...Dubai and the disgustingly wealthy... and then there is Ciudad del Este - a pirates paradise... The Market of Ciudad del Este is a hustle and bustle labyrinth of shops and stalls where everything in the world can be found... whether legitimate, pirated, or counterfeited... you will find it here... and it is not only products that you will find here but also a variety of individuals providing services from brokering to underground banking... prostitution to passport dealers... it’s all here.
Ciudad del Este sits on the Eastern border of Paraguay, bordering Brazil, and Argentina... the borders are a slow moving sea of cars... unless you are coming in by motor bike on the bike lain - leave Brazil and Argentina early in the morning... once you have crossed the border and navigate your way to an open parking space... pay a young man a tip for helping you park and keep an eye on your vehicle - though he might not... you make your way to the market but before you get there you will notice some young men handing out flyers for the various stores which they make a commission on the sales for bringing in clientele... they will even walk you to whatever store you are looking for - electronics, clothing... what ever.. And if you make a purchase these young men will get paid at the end of the day... It is one of my most favorite places to visit...
And hidden in the chaos... in the back room of a fabric shop I will find my old friend Cristobal... throwing dice and losing miserably... he is not a gambler - but he wants to be... every once in a while... but not too often... he will win at something... but not enough to say he is a professional, or that he is among the lucky... The night I met this Cris Montes I had stepped out side of a massage parlor and gambling den in a nameless breezy city... for no particular reason... I did not notice him standing a few feet away from me in the dark of the alley... he was smoking a cigarette and mumbling to himself... perhaps he was praying for a change in his luck at the roulette table... he turned to me... And spoke in a Castellano accent... “The night’s not long enough... eh, my friend...” he smiles like a man that does not have a worry in the world and I answer - “not long enough indeed...” he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and offers me one... I take it... we stood there in the dark and the silence for a good long time and smoked without saying a word... then he began to pray again... I looked over at him and asked if he was from Spain... and he answered - “ Madrid... but I usually tell people I am from Argentina... people that don’t travel don’t know the difference in accents...” - he asks where I am from - “ I am from a city called Juarez in the North of Mexico... but I think I will tell people that I am from Venezuela...” he laughs... The peaceful calm of the night was interrupted by Chinese curses coming from across the street... The unlucky gambler walked toward the main street to see what the commotion was... I waited a bit and followed... hidden from the shadows of the alley we watched as a gang of five young Chinese youth harassed another Chinese youth who was walking with an elderly gentleman... We were quite content to stand there in the shadows and mind our own business - “look at these ass-holes...” I said...
One of the Chinese in the gang punched the kid with the old man... as the others joined in, the old man got shoved and stumbled but he caught the wall... we ran across the street and the fists began to fly... I am not a fighter... I prefer to avoid any confrontation... but sometimes... just sometimes... you have to step in... I have taken many a’ beating growing up and have given plenty as well.. So I can take a punch... I was once jumped by a group of six as one of my closest friends stood and watched... good friends I used to have... we punched... we kicked... and we elbowed the stupid out of these kids... martial arts be damned... youth had nothing against a couple of Latinos who prefer to spend their nights lingering in back alley dens... in parlors where the scum congregate... and walk down unlit neighborhoods where angels fear to tread at three in the morning... I took a good punch to the side of my face that night... that I can still feel... and I got a kick to the back that almost knocked my eyeballs out of my head... Cris got punched by one kid that it knocked him to the wall and he cut his right brow against the building... I did not even notice when a few men from the parlor ran out to help us... a young lady and some man escorted the elderly gentleman back to the front shop of the gambling house... as we continued to fight... when the youth were subdued... we watched the men from the parlor - security guards - walk the boys into the shadows of the alley... may God have mercy on their souls... And we were walked back in through the front door... and escorted upstairs to a small office... The Gambler looks at me with that disarming smile of his... and says - “Bad news is coming...”
- “What makes you say that?”
- “It’s the story of my life... we may have been on the wrong side...”
- “ Well...”
The door opens... and a well dressed Chinese man in his early thirties walked in... he had cheek bones like a model... and his hair was combed to perfection... he was accompanied by two of the security men from the parlor that fought in the scuttle... And I thought - He might be right -
This parlor and gambling den was run by a Chinese family of good standing in their community... the young boy, we learned, was a young cousin to the gentleman in the suit and the old man was his uncle... a real uncle not “uncle” as the Chinese refer to old men... and the gambler and I were now on the respectable list of the houses clientele... The Spaniard tried to hustle some chips from the man in the suit - who offered my new pal a massage on the house... “know when to quit when you are ahead, Mr. Montes...”
The Gambler replied - with his devil may care grin... “The story of my life...”
Cris was concerned a bit about having won the favors of our new acquaintances... “does this mean that your enemies are now my enemies...”
- “No... Mr. Montes... our friends... are now your friends...” replied the man in the suit... and we left it at that... but this new friendship - with our new “family” would prove to be quite pricey... quite pricey indeed...
I hand a young lady at the fabric shop a business card... she takes it and looks at it for a while and reads it out loud in English... “The Celestial Elephant... Paper... Company...” she smiles at me... and disappears to the back... a muscular gentleman with Indian features walks up to me... In Spanish I let him know that I am a guest of Mr. Montes... and he leads me to the back... and down to a room that really is nothing special at all... a few tables with men playing cards and a crap table... where Cris is willing the dice to roll his way... he looks up at me and smiles... he does not wait or hesitate... he picks up his cash and walks over to me... slaps my arm and shakes my hand... and asks me if I want a drink... before I answer he leads me out and we navigate the crowds of the market to a small café a couple of blocks away... were we ordered a plate of appetizers and cold beers... Cris raises a bottle of beer up to heaven and says - "Legio... Patria Nostra..."
I raise my bottle of beer and reply - "Honneur... et - Fidélité...”
We click the bottle necks together and race to drink the bottles empty... slam them down on the table and laugh...
Cris and I don’t ever really spent too much time catching up when we get together... whatever comes out in our conversations about our lives comes out... but Cris lives in the moment... it is only when he has drank too much that he will talk about his travels and adventures and the days of his misguided youth... He is one of the best story tellers I have ever known... he knows how to pull you in to his fables and leaves you wanting more... fables? Yes... with Cris - as with Dash - you will never know the absolute truth... but I like that... He makes me laugh... and I trust him - though being friends with Cris can be dangerous at times... many are the times we escaped with our lives from some wild adventure he talked me into with his charm and smile... “God and the devil are partly to blame for a lot of that...” he would say... “we... are just victims of destiny, my friend...”
Cristobal has told me many times that I am his only friend and that I am the only one he trust... this may be... but I am not entirely convinced that Cristobal Montes is his real name... many times in a room of people he will lean in close to me and say - call me such and such... in front of so and so... and I have heard him introduce himself as someone entirely different with a personality that he pulled out of thin air like magic... he makes me laugh... and that is not an easy thing to do... we drank all afternoon and stumbled from café to café... from one parlor to another and ended up in the bar of his hotel... and in the lobby... just a few steps away from the hotel bar we made ourselves comfortable in old lounge chairs covered in fading leather.. That smelled of tobacco and liqueur... and old perfume... The whole lobby had that smell... a musky antique smell - like an old bookstore that doubled as a brothel after hours... this was our world... the only place men like Cris and Myself feel the most at home... old hotels that refuse to crumble for the memories that linger...
Two hotels earlier we had made friends with a couple of young ladies - Araceli and Fernanda... Fernanda is around 5'6" with long straight dark hair and olive skin and has the body of a dancer... with a very firm back side... she was very friendly with me when we first met them... but by the time we had reached Cris’ hotel the girls switched partners... and now Araceli would keep my lap company... Araceli is a bit smaller than Fernanda... but they seem the same height due to the high heels she is wearing... her skin is lighter and has wavy brown hair that falls to her shoulders... Araceli has quite a big chest... and is thinner than Fernanda... Why they switched partners we did not know nor did we really care... The girls were at the bar and Cris and I were left alone for a while...
He leans forward in his chair to speak...
“You are thinking of Veronica...”
I nod...
“You have been distant all day... can’t stop thinking of her?
I shake my head...
“All the girls... All the women you have had... look at these young girls at the bar... look...”
I turn to look at the girls...
“Why her?”
I shrug my shoulder and say - “I don’t know Cris... I don’t know...”
He sits back in his chair and points a finger at me with the hand he holds his drink with... “yes... yes you do...”
I look at him... “I could have done better by her...”
“But you didn’t... so let it go... you ended up a better man because of her...let it go...” He drinks the last swallow... “That was a long time ago... I know you get laid... and I know you have had many relations... you just got to let that girl go...”
I drink the last swallow in my glass... and he says...
“Go look for that girl Carmen...
“She’s married...”
“And how many married women have you been with... Ass-hole? How ‘bout that girl Kelly...”
“Married...”
“Papa... you’re going to die alone...
“So will you...”
“Not if I die in this girls arms tonight... Mira papi...” he turns to the girls... they are on their way back... with drinks in all hands... and he says... “pa’ que te digo...” (Why waste my time...)
The girls return and we begin a conversation about a trip to some Beach in Brazil the girls took... and we drank.
A few years ago Cris traveled for a year with a young woman from Romania... Her name was Tanya... she was twenty two years old and Cris gave her the world... literally - he lavished her with gifts and dressed her up in fine clothes and they stayed in top rated hotels... They traveled by train and cruise ships and hitched rides on private planes... In my opinion Cris was in love with her... at the very least - he desired her to distraction... It looked for a while that Cris was going to settle down... but she left him... poor girl wanted a house and a man with stability... but she just couldn’t connect the dots... she couldn’t figure that though Cris lost a lot in the gambling dens... he has money coming in from somewhere... she just naturally assumed that he made his money in the casinos... no... Cristobal loses his money in the casinos... but he is a man of means... that girl just couldn’t figure it out... Cris - Like Dash... will settle down one day...
(By the way... that girl, Tanya... is to this day, the absolute most beautiful woman I have ever seen... in this whole God damn world...)
We drank and we drank... I do not like getting drunk these days but in this country it seems... I am just here for exactly that... to get drunk... We bought a bottle of bourbon and took it up to Cris’ room... we stumbled up the stairs and rolled down the hallway laughing at nothing - the way drunks do... and collapsed as we fell into his room in drunken laughter... as I stood up I noticed as I looked at myself in the mirror that Fernanda was wearing my shirt... and I was bare chested... I looked over at Cris and he laughed... “how did that happen...” he asked... and we all laughed...
I woke up to the sounds of the city... Araceli on top of me... naked... and deep in her sleep...
Cris was awake and had showered and cleaned himself up... he always looks good... always looks like he belongs in a suit at the best poker table in town... He is Clark Gable...
He looks at me and laughs... “you doing alright over there...”
I motion for him to help me move the girl...
He rolls her off me and we leave her on the sofa to sleep...
I walk to the open window to get some air... “What the hell happened last night Cris...”
He laughs... “shower up old timer... there is a kitchen down stairs... he turns to walk out... but stops to leave money on the night stand next to his bed... where Fernanda sleeps... If they are hookers they will take the money and be gone by the time Cris returns... if they are still there when he gets back... he’ll have himself a good time when they sober up... I showered and dressed in one of Cristobal’s crisp white shirts... and made my way down stairs... I too left money on the table next to the sofa where Araceli slept...
We had a big Breakfast of eggs with potatoes and bacon... I had pancakes as well and Cris had empanadas... we drank coffee and chased it with Bloody Marries... I was hungry that morning... and even after I ate - I wanted more... my head was spinning but it was not a hang-over... or that dehydrated feeling that comes with the hang-over... it was more like vertigo... the feeling I get before Cris cons me into one of his adventures...
He takes a long drink from his Bloody Marry... and looks at me for a long time with a smile on his face... I know something is coming...
He speaks -
“I saw the devil in Barranquilla...”
I threw him a curious look...
“He made me a very interesting offer...” he paused to give me time to react... I could only raise my eyebrows... I said...
“And yet... here you are...”
“Here I am... Having Drinks with Don Victor... in Ciudad del Este... with a couple of naked girls up in my room...”
“Still...”
“Oh... that son of a bitch can do much better than that... “
“Hold out Cris... young man... hold out for more...”
He laughs... and drinks... I drink...
A woman in her early forties comes to our table... our waitress... she wears a black skirt that covers her knees and a white blouse and an old apron with flowers on it... her hair is pulled back in a tail and it is turning grey on the sides... her face is beginning to show wrinkles and she looks a little tired... Cris orders another round of Bloody Marries for us... she smiles and both Cris and I stare at this woman and try to find the beauty that lingers with in her... before time got his hands on her... you simply had to glance at her to tell that she was a knock out when she was younger... and she is still quite pretty... she begins to blush and walks away to get our drinks... we watch her walk away... she moves slow and self-conscious... she knows we are looking at her ass... Cris turns to me with a smile... “Imaginate viejo...” (Imagine it old man).
I smile... “did he mention me...”
“Who...”
“That old devil...” I say...
“Should he have...” Cris looks confused... perhaps as confused as I was when he first brought it up...
“what... are you making deals...”
“I don’t owe him or anybody anything... I already made my deal...”
“Fuck him...”
“Should I be worried...” I ask Cris with my most serious tone...
“Worried for you...no... worried for me... hmm... no... I got your back old man... I got your back...”
He begins to laugh... “Do you remember that night...”
“I am trying to forget it...” I did not know what he was talking about...
“I learned something very important about you and me that night...”
“Oh... enlighten me...” now I was curious...
“We thought there was going to be money in it for us...” He was talking about North Africa... He begins to laugh... “What the hell were you thinking...”
I begin to laugh - “I thought you had a plan...”
“What plan... when are you going to stop falling for that...”
We laugh...
“What was it that you learned... Cris?”
“You and I are two crazy mother fuckers...” He laughs... “sure... you got to draw the line some where... but there isn’t much you and I haven’t done to chase that gold... is there old man...”
We laughed... and laughed... Since the night I met Cristobal Montes... it’s been like this...
“Look at this...” I tell him
He turns around...
It’s the girls - looking clean and fresh and no traces of the night before on either one of them... they come sit with us and the waitress arrives with our drinks... she gives the girls dirty looks and dismisses them as whores... but is polite to them for Cris and me...we invite the girls for Breakfast on us and Bloody Marries and they start talking about the trip we promised to take with them to Brazil... I didn’t know what the hell they were talking about... but Cris Played their game to see how far they would go... he has nothing to lose and just doesn’t give a damn... I sat with them until the girls finished eating and made an excuse to leave... I stood up and shook hands with Cristobal... he stood up to give me a hug... he knew I was heading out of the country...
“Well, old man... I think I’m going to knock around with the girls for a bit...” the girls giggled...
I nodded...
“I’ll see you around, Cris...”
“Hey... you got my back...”
“I got your back... but you’re on your own with these two...” the girls laugh...
“I’ll see you around old man...”
I lean down to kiss Araceli on the lips... and I walked over to Fernanda and kissed her on the cheeks... and I turned to walk out of the old hotel...
“Chiang Mai... “ he yells out... “Chiang Mai...”
“I’ll be there...” I shout back at him... and I stepped out into the street...
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