Volunteer Visits

First of all thanks to everyone who sent me news about Celine being pregnant. Even though celebrity gossip, and news of most kinds, if off my radar while in Panama, I expect immediate notification of anything and everything regarding Celine Dion, or our favorite trainwreck celebs like LiLo, Amy Winehouse and the like. Development work is serious business, but I still have room in my wee little brain for some celebrity skuttlebut. Don´t forget it.

On a more serious note, I heard the news this morning about Ted Kennedy, and audibly gasped, turning heads in the restaurant where we were eating. It´s awful to see him go before the culmination of his life´s work, but after hearing reports about him being unable to speak, and suffering through his last days, in a way it comes as a relief. I don´t have much time to check news here, and Panama nightly news is all about truck accidents and drug busts, so any updates on health policy news would be greatly appreciated.

Today I´m writing from David, the second-largest city in Panama, in the Chiriqi province. I´m munching on slices of mango, which I bought from a street vendor for 25 cents. I am pleased with the cost of food here.

We left Panama City last night at 7:30 on a comfortable, Greyhound-y bus and headed about six hours west, arriving at 2:45a.m. in an unfamiliar city without maps or an exact idea of where our hotel was. Peace Corps likes to give you enough information to get somewhere, but not so much that you really feel like you know where to go. It´s all part of the experience, see?

This trip is for our volunteeer visits, where in our second week of training, we go to the real site of a volunteer. My site is in Bocas del Toro, the eastern-most province in Panama, bordering Costa Rica. A majority of the province is in the Comarca, or the Panamanian equivalent of reservations for indigenous people. To my surprise, my volunteer met me here in David this morning, and we´ll leave together around noon, take a three-and-a half-hour bus ride, and then hike for an hour to his Ngobe site. His directions to his site were good, but I´m glad to be going along with him to make sure I hike up the right super-steep path. Also, if you ask for directions in Panama, most people just gesture wildly and say ¨Por Alla¨ meaning ¨Way over there¨or ¨Por alli¨meaning ¨Close, but a little bit over there¨ or ¨Por Aca¨ meaning ¨Kinda close, like right here!¨ Last week I was showing Nani where I´d be going in Bocas, and Greysia wanted to see the world map I brought. Nani new exactly where we were in Panama, but on the world scale, she wasn´t sure, and needed me to point out the U.S. She did remember where all the other aspirantes who have passed through Santa Clara lived, asking me to point out Virginia, Massachusetts, and a bunch of other states.

I´m thrilled to be out and experiencing the real Peace Corps life this weekend. The majority of our environmental health group will be placed in indigenous sites, and we´ve heard a lot about them, but it´s impossible to know what they´re really like until we get there. So now I have my chance, and when we return to Santa Clara on Monday, I´ll be able to talk with the Associate Programing Director about my thoughts and experiences, whether I would hate living in Bocas or love it, and what I think of a Ngobe community. Using this interview and other means of assessment, Tim (the APCD) will decide a permanent placement for me. I´ll know where I´m going during week four of training. (We´re halfway through week two now.) If I´m in a site where there is cell service, I´ll probably buy a phone soon and will be able to call and text again.

One culture point that is important to consider about Latino sites, but more particiularly Ngobe and other indigenous communities is the concept of ¨pena,¨ which in English translates roughly to something like embarassment, shame, or shyness. We´ve heard people, epecially in the rural country, tend to speak very indirectly, and often not at all to a new person, so it takes months to build a relationship and confianza, or trust, with only a few select people. Ngobes frequently assume the Americans know best, are too shy to be forthcoming, or prefer to wait and be told what to do. But the job of a PC volunteer is to learn from them about the community and its needs. Only they know, and they have the most to teach me. Starting to break down that pena barrier is a months-long process for many volunteers. I am not expecting many to readily talk with me this weekend, but at least I´ll get a feel of what the site is like and how I might react to living there.

In preparation, yesterday I took a one-hour class in the Ngobere language. My only real take away thought is ¨Good Lord...¨At times I feel like my Spanish is actually getting worse; I don´t know how I´ll ever manage to learn Ngobere. The vowel sounds and sentence stuctures are completely different than Spanish and English. I did have another ¨This is so cool¨moment though, as I was being instructed in Spanish about a rare indigenous language that most people in the world don´t even know exists. I didn´t even notice I wasn´t thinking in or about English at all.

Some days there is so much to take in, and my brain is just buzzing with new information until it finally gives up and shuts off. But when I walk home from class, saying ¨Buenas¨to everyone that passes, sharing space with the plethora of chickens, turkeys and ducks that roam around town, I´m always refreshed and feeling grateful for this experience. I´ve been encountering all these little signs along the way too, like one of the first songs Daviey Sr. played on the stereo when I arrived was ¨La Vida Es Un Carnaval.¨ I´m not supersticious but when things like that happen, it makes me feel like I´m in exactly the right place.

So that´s it for now. I might have a chance to write again Sunday when I´m back in David for the night.

And hey y´all don´t forget to keep me updated on your own lives. I want to hear about everyone´s new jobs, schools, and everything in between.