Santa María de Fe, Paraguay, sits smack in the middle of the Misiones district, famous for Jesuit reductions dating to the 16th-18th centuries. When the Spanish and Portuguese came to Paraguay (and parts of Argentina and Brazil), they created reductions to organize indigenous populations and exploit labor while simultaneously spreading Christianity and European social norms. A real double whammy, if you ask me.
The Jesuit ruins of Trinidad are the only non-natural inscription in Paraguay on UNESCO’s World Heritage list, but I didn’t go there. Ruins just aren’t my thing. Instead, I opted to spend a couple of nights in the town of Santa María de Fe, sitting near the intersection of two of Paraguay’s main highways: Ruta 1, coming from Asuncion and the north, and Ruta 4, which heads from Misiones west toward the wilds of Ñeembucú. My initial plan was to go from there to Humaitá, site of one of the most decisive battles of the War of the Triple Alliance, but was near immediately scratched once arriving to Santa María de Fe. It turns out that Santa María (as it is known colloquially) is not a one-night stand type of a town. Rather, it is a place that encourages a slow languishing in thick heat and lush green. Much of my full day in Santa María was spent in my hotel’s sprawling backyard, reading a book on Russian Imperial history and charging my road crystals in the town’s heavy air.
The Santa Maria Hotel’s grounds are sprawling and green. 
Simple and effective rooms at the right price, at under $20USD per night.
I had come from San Bernadino, in Paraguay’s Cordillera Department. My road trip was an exercise in getting off the beaten path. This is a relative metric, of course – Paraguay sees so few foreign tourists outside of Brazilians and mildly suspicious Germans that you could argue that “off the beaten path” starts at Asunción’s International Airport. Santa María de Fe, charming and perfect as it was, appeared to receive very few tourists, likely due to the distance between it and Asunción and the presence of more traditional tourist fare relatively nearby (See: Jesuit reductions).
The drive between San Bernadino and Santa María de Fe took a few hours, but would take a normal person around two. Towns en route offer plenty to see and do, and I stopped frequently – mostly to shop at roadside handicraft stalls and take pictures of bus stops. And, well, I drove around 40mph/65kph the entire time for fear of being pulled over by Paraguayan police. The day before I’d been stopped by a patrolman for driving with my lights off, an encounter that fortunately hadn’t made me too much poorer.
Santa María de Fe is located about ten minutes off the main road, which transitions from asphalt to cement to cobbles to dirt as you get closer to it. In my experience, the quality of road is inversely related to the coolness of the place, a theory proven all the more true by a case study on Santa Maria.
Santa Maria’s main square after the daily deluge. 
Spotted some excellent painted concrete in the form of a bus stop on the outskirts of town.
Truth of the matter is, Santa María de Fe is so tiny that roads are used largely as pedestrian walkways. One of the roads bordering Santa María’s main square sits completely excavated, the others bright red paths of hard, red earth. Though not quite equatorial, weather-wise, Southern Paraguay may as well be. Dust, critters, and half-inflated soccer balls bob and weave lazily down the sides of the roads, collecting moisture on the way. The greenery is pervasive – maybe not to the same degree as a true rainforest (as in Suriname, for example) – and unstoppable. An extensive canopy of trees grew across the town square, home to noisy bugs and birds with opinions to share. After the rain it smelled like wet dirt and jungle, a scent I’d happily drop big dollars on at my local Sephora.
There was no one at the Santa Maria Hotel when I arrived, for I was the hotel’s only guest. A quick phone call later and Max arrived to let me into my room. Down an open air corridor filled with DIY planters filled with exotic native plants was the hotel’s main annex, housing the rooms and a salon filled with antique books and a giant Paraguayan harp – but the hotel’s real star was the backyard, replete with ample outdoor seating and an open air kitchen for enjoying breakfast before the heat of the day set in. The Santa Maria Hotel set me back around 100,00 Guaranis, or about $16 USD per night.
Max, my gracious host at the Santa Maria Hotel 
The hotel salon, complete with Paraguayan harp.
The town is so compact, it’s easy to see the sights within about 45 minutes. The town’s church sits on the main square – to get inside you’ll need keys from the rectory. There was an ice cream shop just across the plaza, and my impatient stomach decided that a cold treat was more important than access to the church’s centuries-old reredos. From there, it’s easy to traverse the towns two or three main commercial streets, home to makeshift open air gyms, convenience stores, and surprisingly few restaurants. I’m not including a map because it is literally impossible to get lost there. I picked up some trash food and a few Fantas (my drink of choice in the developing world), and headed back to the main square to watch the town’s children buzz about after leaving school for the day.
Santa María, like many towns in Paraguay, has a thriving craft industry. In just about any rural Paraguayan town one can find makeshift factories dedicated to teaching generations-old craft making techniques, mostly to empower Paraguayan women via entrepreneurism. Santa María was no exception, and its factory happened to be right next door to the Santa Maria Hotel.
The shop was closed when I arrived. No worry, Max had let me know that its proprietress lived in the quaint (my word, not his) house between the hotel and the shop. I knocked on the house’s door and, I believe, interrupted her telenovela – it’s not that she appeared unhappy to see me, rather, I had caught her off guard during a particularly killer siesta. She reluctantly led me to the shop as Crystal, my favorite puppy of the trip, danced circles around us, looking to play.
Inside, the shop/factory was littered with crafts in various stages of completion. The fluorescent lights above were particularly noisy, and lent a great contrast to the sound of birds chattering outside. Her shop specialized in embroidery, and I ended up selecting a fine selection of potholders, coin purses, and satchels to give to my friends and family at home. I made sure to make the transaction quick so my elderly lady friend could get back to her stories.
It would be easy to call Santa María de Fe a “boring” town. Without any standout attractions, some tourists may be disappointed at a lack of traditional “things to do” there. But I argue that Santa María de Fe is just the type of place more travelers should visit – the town gave me the chance to connect with local people curious about my presence, and learn about how the Paraguayan small town life is changing with fast-encroaching modernization. The only people we meet at huge marquis attractions are other tourists, while places like Santa María de Fe hold a greater reward of authentic cultural understanding if one is merely willing to walk around, have ice cream, or disrupt someone’s siesta to buy some unneeded trinkets.
