The pace of life is slowed by the heat and humidity. A common relief is a quick, cold-steep tea called tereré. Drinking it is an ancient communal custom. Each time Paraguayans gather, the server is different and the passing of the guampa y bombilla is calm. A person knows that the turn to sip will come. Conversation is usually the same, each person talks as long as desired and the gathered listen. Side-talk is quiet and accepted.

In El Vertedero, the municipal garbage dump, at a shaded area by the side of the road, women and children gathered to talk with a Paraguayan organizer. Tereré went around. The dress of la indigena was multi-colored, the infant in her arms was wrapped in cotton to protect her from wind-blown dust. Her toddler was wide-eyed, bare-foot, grime-covered. La presidenta de la comisión de mujeres wore a bright green, new smock over her clothes that were thoroughly soiled by a day's work mining the garbage. The teenager with her infant looked no more than fourteen years old. In all, there were eight women and a dozen children. Their conversation was not orderly as is common. The wise-cracking and laughter flowed in all directions, punctuated by occasions of eriousness when decisions needed to be made.

The meeting adjourned and about half of the women walked to a group of homes in a grove of small trees. Stench from the mud, garbage and hog manure assaulted the senses and flies attacked the skin. (The homes constructed from recycled things withstand the recurring torrential rains. Men and women came in from work under the hot sun to convene a meeting with Spaniards from a charitable development project (Crecer Con Futuro.) The meeting proceeded as a broad range of topics were discussed (mainly in Guarani - when necessary, the language shifted for the foreigners.) El presidente de la comisión del vertedero requested that the project coordinator (from Spain) schedule another meeting with the mayor because it has been over one-and-a-half years since the census was submitted. Citizen identification cards have not been issued to the people living and working in the city's garbage.

The residents in the garbage dump use scavenged wood for cooking fuel. In town, bottled gas is most commonly used along with wood. Some families have small electric appliances. The expense of cooking fuel is a major portion of every family's cost-of-living. In 2006, the national government declined an offer from Bolivia, it was willing to sell to Paraguay bottle gas at a discount. The hydroelectric dam at Iguazu and the dam under construction at Yacyreta are burdened by debt. (Iguazu did not result sustained development of infrastructure or other improvements. “CNN” broadcasted an estimate that South American debt to the World Bank has been paid three times over the principal loaned, payments continue.) Families get by as best as they can.

After the day at the dump, I entered my living quarters. Things were hot to the touch. Thoughts returned to the solar oven project that began eight months ago. The plan is to form a Paraguayan small business that produces a product that is easy to build and use, cooks efficiently, is inexpensive, is durable and is easy to repair.

The Paraguayan response consistently has been “How long does it take?” Their faces reveal a polite,  disinterested smile when the good news is given: “Dinner will be ready by sunset.” After a month of this kind of interaction, a neighbour laughed warmly when I asked if what is needed is almuerzo (the mid-day, main meal.) No one would tell me directly. Culture affects design.