It is common for Paraguayan women to greet one another with "Nde kyrapona!," which roughly translates to "You are so good and fat!" It is a compliment my American wife would have a hard time responding enthusiastically to.

Living in a small village in rural Paraguay for a two-year Peace Corps assignment, we were constantly confronted by a number of cultural differences, not the least of which was the appreciation for being fat. Being fat essentially meant that you are well off, not necessarily able to afford glass in your windows — there were only two households in our village that could afford that symbol of wealth — but wealthy to the point of having enough food to grow corpulent. 

In an agricultural society such as Paraguay, there is an undeniable social prestige that comes with corpulence. Being fat means you own land and your crops are doing well. It means you probably aren't the one in the fields hoeing lines, but certainly the one consuming the benefits. In an agricultural society, being fat is being healthy. A fat pig is a healthy pig. A fat cob of corn is one to save because its genetic progeny will be equally fat.

Being called fat to your face is flattering.  

On the other end of the village economic scale are the workers hoeing the crop lines. They are thin, many are gaunt, and their bellies round — because of intestinal parasites.

Because they tend to work in the fields, the poorer villagers may be in slightly better health than the more affluent villagers. But everybody, to a degree, is malnourished. Vegetables are practically nonexistent in our village, and fruit is seasonal and scarce. Meat is expensive. Meals are created almost entirely from a larder of corn meal, manioc, beans, or fried dough. The best thing in life one eats is chicharon — scraps of fried pig fat — and even the richer denizens get that treat at most four times a year.

Needless to say, the lack of options does not lend to a healthy diet, and high blood pressure ("presion alta") and adult-onset diabetes are rampant among the older members of the village.

Although my wife and other female Peace Corps volunteers would be horrified if greeted with an approving, "My, how fat you are" comment, none would consider it better to starve than to glut, be hungry than satiated. In a place where starvation is likelier than a healthy diet and "exercise" consists of hard work in the sugarcane fields, it is understandable that most aspire to be fat.  For the rural Paraguayans, carrying one's fat proudly is the surest sign of worldly success.

Nathaniel Farrell Brodie