Brace yourself, this is going to be a long post

Saludos, everyone. How are things? I hope this post finds you well. I am well-- currently free of parasitic infections and only battling a fungus-turned-jungle-infection on both feet. It is big, disgusting, and emitting a pus-y effluvium. It makes me limp, which earned me a discounted taxi fare this morning. Look at that poor gringa, all Tiny-Tim like wandering down the streets of David, lost and alone. Pobrecita.

That is why you come here isn´t it? Because I write about things like pus-y effluvium that happen as a result of, well, just being filthy nearly every day of my life. I am glad I can provide that for you, because really, who else would? Pus-y effluvium. You love it.

But fret not, loyal readers, I am not going to talk about bacteria, excrement, or parasites today! I am going to talk about something grander-- my vacation! Indeed, a week ago my brothers came to Panama and oh! We painted the country red. I will condense the week for you in a still-not-condensed enough summary, using James´s pictures. I lost my camera charger, so I took none. I am eternally sorry that I continue to fail in my picture taking. Probably will end up buying a new camera. Sigh.

Pre-Vacation
The night before I picked up mis hermanos at the airport, I stayed in Santa Clara with my very first host-family, with whom I stayed during training. Greysi saw me coming up the hill, ran down right away, hugged me and began filling me on school and everything that matters when you´re five. It was great to spend some time there again, and I could tell how much it meant to them that I came back. I played Bingo again with Nani and her mother-in-law. I cleaned up. For breakfast, she made me pancakes, a hot dog, and french fries. Oh, it was good to be home.

Seeing Santa Clara again after having spent time in my community was enlightening. During training, I remember thinking how there was nothing really there, it was just a small, suburban town, safe and simple. When I rolled back in this time on a Diablo Rojo, I couldn´t stop thinking about how developed it seemed. It has a health center, a playground, a library (generous assessment of a few piles of books lying aruond), a market, a town hall-ish building, latrines, an aqueduct connection at every single house. IT HAS EVERYTHING. It is a bustling metropolis.

Day 1- Saturday, Panama City- Casco Viejo.

Casco Viejo, as its names suggests is the old part of Panama City. When the Canal was built, the entire city was in this area. Today, it is filled with old churches, some delapidated, some restored, charming cafes, and is relatively free of chain restuarants, cell phone stores, and other eye sores. Lonely Planet says it´s like Old Havana. I have never been to Old or New Havana, so I cannot confirm or deny these claims, but you get the idea. It´s pretty and old and rustic and changing and filled with street markets, gelatto shops, ocean views, and historical monuments.



Where we stayed: Hospedaje Casco Viejo. Simple, clean, $10 a night with charming and patient desk people.

Sites: Iglesia de San Jose- famous for its golden altar. When Captain Henry Morgan came to Panama to pillage, plunder and shiver the timbers, he headed for this famed piece, which the priest had sneakily painted black. When Morgan came, the priest told him it had been stolen by another pirate and somehow convinced him to pay for a replacement. Morgan reportedly said, I don't know why, but I feel like you are more of a pirate than I am!¨

Panama Canal Museum- Worth a trip as admission is only $2, but only if you have a bit of Spanish. There are no signs or exhibits in English.

Plaza de Francia- a beautiful walk along the ocean, with stones paying tribute to France´s work on the Canal. They abandoned it after losing 22,000 men to yellow fever and malaria.

Eats: Cafe Coca-Cola, a charming restuarant diner-- the only diner-like establishment I´ve ever seen in Panama. Good service, good food, great coffee and cappucinos. An old neighborhood staple.

Days 2 and 3

We hiked the Cerro Punta to Boquete trail alongside Volcan Baru. It took us about 4 1/2 hours, and we weren´t hurrying. An easy hike, although we did it down hill, and next time I´d like to try it going up (I developed knee problems since arriving). The trail is famed for the resplendant quetzal bird which is abundant in the area. We heard dozens of calls, but couldn´t spot one. This part of Chiriqi is traveled by birdwatchers from around the world because of its hundreds of rare species. Bring your binoculars.


The next morning we awoke en la madrugada for a 6a.m. coffee tour. Imagine how thrilled Michael was. But it was worth the intial agony. We opted for what the hostel owner called the more rustic of two tours, and were picked up in a car at our door just after 6:30. Our guide was Feliciano, an adorable and enthusiastic chiriquano (guy from Chiriqi), who began the tour by taking us, and a German couple who joined us, to his house. He offered cups of coffee as we stood on his porch in the chilly morning, watching the fog roll over the hills and looking down at the coffee finca he inherited from his father. He grabbed us bananas for breakfast, and told us the story of his family, his plants, and how he grows, maintains and harvest them. He spoke all in English, only occasionally asking me to translate a word. This man is adorable. And tiny, which made his comments about the indigenas being too short to pick coffee awfully strange. If you come to Panama, we are going to visit him, because he does other hiking and nature tours and I am sort of in love with him in a non-threatening will-you-be-my-uncle-or-grandfather-or-wise-advice-giver kind of way. Felciano, mi corazon, my heart:

The tour continued with a visit to a small factory, where they roast the beans in batches no bigger than 50 pounds, usually much smaller. We saw where the beans are peeled, dried, and toasted. They roasted a few handfuls for us so we could taste the difference between light, medium and dark roasts. Turns out the differences is only a matter of seconds. We´d always thought it was much longer. I highly recommend searching out a smaller, more personal coffee tour if you´re interested. We were a small group of five, and loved the interaction and ability to ask questions and converse freely with our guide (no, you guys, I really love him). And it´s a better way to spend your money--supporting small farms and independent roasters. $25 for a 3-hour tour and round-trip transportation.

Then we went to Mi Jardin Es tu Jardin (my garden is your garden), a sprawling flower garden open to the public. For free:

Lodging: Hostel Gaia, $11/night, full use of kitchen and they helped us book coffee tour. Also worth mentioning- tried to book at Hostel Boquete, which was full, but the owner kindly called Gaia and drove us over there in his car. Will try his place next time-- has a restaurant, bar, and hammocks overlooking the river. DONE.

Eats: Amigos restuarant. Sat outside on the patio in the cool evening, illuminated by white Christmassy lights. Yummy food and had a glass of my favorite wine available here in Panama for $3.


Day 4: Visit to Cati´s community

You´ll have to ask the boys what they thought (comments are open), because I of course am rather jaded by all of this by now. We arrived late Tuesday night after a death-defying bus ride through intense fog on washed out roads. I messed up a batch of kettle corn, but the boys set up their mosquito nets and we settled in for a long summer´s nap. The next morning James and I headed up the hill to my first host family´s house, hung out, and drank some cacao with mom, sister, and brother. He bought a chakara made by sister Arcadia. They are always trotting out their wares when a gringo comes along! The hike up took a rapid 25 minutes instead of the usual 40ish, due to the driest trails I have every seen. Gringo fam meets Ngobe fam:

Don´t they look thrilled? Do I look like I am about to ride a horse? I think I do.

Then we bajared the loma, to return to Michael B., who had slept in. On the way, James got some awesome shots of some leaf-cutter ants:


Then we pasear´ed, and James and Michael delighted in how easy it is just to wander around from house to house. I named a baby, and they bore witness to the chorus of CATIs that follows me every where I go. Celebrity status.

Typical exchange with Ngobe chi´s, (kids):
¨Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati!¨
I finally answer, ¨Dime mi amor!¨ Tell me, my love.
¨Hola!¨

or:

¨Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati! Cati!!¨
¨Dime, guapo!¨Tell me, handsome!
¨Buenas!¨

Bocas Island, Days 5-6.

And then we went away for our tropical island retreat. Highlights included, a beach paradise, nestled in a national park:

This visit was part of a touristy boat tour James and I went on, including a visit to Dolphin Bay, where you see dolphins. Imagine that.

And... wait for it... do you know what I did?

I went snorkeling. Because my brother James wanted to and I love him and I will make sacrifices. The first 7-10 minutes involved hyperventilating, thinking I was going to drown, die and be eaten slowly by fish and anemones and other marine creatures whose existence I prefer not to acknowledge. My heart raced, I sucked water in my snorkel and generally flapped around like, well, a fish out of water. Except, you know, I was in the water, with the fishes, and do you know the water was about four feet deep, and they were all so close, and they could touch me at any minute? Does my brother love me? I hope so, because this is horrifying. And then I calmed down. And I looked at the fishes, and the coral, which was beautiful and purple and turquoise and yellow, gold and green. Like something out of Planet Earth. They were nature´s big treasure chests hiding under the ocean for us to discover. It was lovely. And I only freaked out and splashed away from fish closing in on me a handful of times. And my heart only legitimately stopped once when I saw a menacing black fish the size of a dinner plate looking at me. Of course my heart started beating again, and I am glad I went.

Other highlights: An amazing Caribbean dinner, James with our fish, in garlic and creole sauces, respectively, and sides of coconut rice. And Michael with his.... well, just look:

Have you ever? Pescado Entero.

Boys´Beer Tour: One night we hung out on the roof deck of our hostel, and the boys sampled five of the widely-available Panama beers. I watched and classily drank wine because I do not participate in such pedestrian tomfoolery. But it was a joy to watch my brothers debate the finer points of really not fine beers.



Where we stayed: Hostel Heiki, $10 a night, super Peace-Corps-friendly with the nicest manager on the planet. Roof-deck with tables, chairs, sofas, hammocks and computers. Kitchen, free coffee all day and pancake breakfasts. Nice view of the street and park from balconies and decks. Fun to gawk at all the gringoes.

So I thought the vacation was a blast, and we did it cheaply. I spent under $300, including all lodging and transportation, and I didn´t hold back. Eleven dollars was the most we spent for lodging, and though we ate some nice meals out, we also got some heaping plates of good Panamanian food (chicken, rice, beans, salad, and Coke) for less than three dollars. So thanks for coming, boys. And to everyone else, I look forward to your visit. Look at the rest of James´ pictures here.

What you get used to

A look at the small life changes I've undergone:

I sharpen my pencils with a machete. I still talk in my sleep, but I wake up and hear myself speaking Spanish. I like washing my clothes in the river--it's an upper-body workout and takes all morning. I don't know why people say they couldn't live without electricity; I rarely think about it. Roosters wake me up every morning, and I never make it past nine at night unless my book is good, the stovetop coffee is strong, and the bugs aren't bad. I will pee absolutely anywhere. I've started hiking in skirts like a good Ngobe meri (woman). It's cooler than pants and easier than you think. Children and strangers pat my blonde arm hair in the bus terminals. I don't get mad anymore. Lice is a reality, and I just reach for the Champiojo (champú + piojo- word for louse combined. Clever.) I know that for many community members, all I will be is a friend, a conversation, and someone to hassle about marriage prospects. I like it. Lentils are gourmet eating. I love and accept that my job requires me to talk about poop a lot, and to my community's delight, draw lots of pictures of people pooping. I am embarassed when I hear myself speak bad Spanish, but I also know that it's because I spend so much time listening to my community member's dodgy conjugations and subject/verb agreements. I am assimilating. I used to be afraid of fish but now, if pressed, I will stick my fingers in their gills and snap their necks. Sometimes I'm actually happy to eat boiled bananas. I have accepted the terms gringita, mami and amor as terms of endearment (coming from the right people). I can thermoform PVC tube better than anyone in my community even if the aqueduct VP continues to act like I am spewing nonsense. I am happy to be in a place without machines and computers to speed everything up and take the away the gratification of simple routines and small tasks. Life in Panama is good, even if sometimes I feel ridiculous, confused, or incapable.

Tomorrow my brothers arrive in, and I am taking a week of vacation to show them around. Destinations include Panama City, Cerro Punta and Boquete in the Chiriqi highlands, my site, and Bocas Island. A lengthy itinerary, a lot of excitement. Promise to take pictures. (Or better yet, have them do it since they have wayyyyy better Internoodle connections.) Just completed seven months in country, and can't wait to see them.

Til next time. Be good.

Things get clearer

One of the beauties of the Peace Corps experience is that it is truly self-directed. Volunteers decide how to approach work in their community, what priorities will be (of course taking into account their community analyses), and what timelines they should set. It is an incredible freedom, but also an enormous challenge. During my hammock time, when I sort through every thought about development there is, debate if sustainability is realistic and to what extent, and how I, a 22-year-old gringa, can best make the most out of my service while guiding my community in the right direction, things get hazy.

And everytime I come up with an answer, a few minutes, hours, or days later, I think "But what about..." and sometimes, I feel like I'm not moving in any one direction at all. I started feeling this way at the end of January and through the beginning of February, as I reached the three-month mark, and that AHA! moment of clarity, vision, or understanding I'd been waiting for hadn't arrived yet.

The thing is this. It's not ever going to. Every community in the world is an uneven mix of resources, needs, motivated workers, and uninterested residents. My counterpart and a handful of others are ready to work, and more or less understanding of the Peace Corps process and how I can help them. There are others who want to work with me but are less than proactive. The third group is not really at all interested in what I am doing, though they are the group who could perhaps benefit most from EH work.

The conclusion I have come to is that to wait for everyone to be on board is a waste of everyone's time. Just like I will never understand everylittlething about my community, I will never have every single person--or maybe even 50 percent--by my side working hombro a hombro, shoulder to shoulder. Given the dynamics I've seen play out so far, it's best just to get going with the people who are ready, motivated and organized. I risk losing them if I hang around trying to get others involved, and more importantly, I believe it is more useful and sustainable to teach small groups and work on small projects, so that those who are really interested will learn, and those who aren't yet, may become so later as they see it develop. And anyhow, my community is too large to try and manage too many people at once. I am still early in my service. There will be time for more later, should opportunities develop.

So at my last community meeting I gave a charla about traditional vs. composting latrines to the people who came to the meeting and established a latrine committee. Yesterday I visited ANAM, an environmental protection agency that works with PC to promote composting latrines, and had a great meeting with one of the coordinators there. In April, we have tentatively scheduled a day to do a community diagnostic with the committee. This will serve as a base document for a latrine project and others in the future. It will also be a document my community can refer to in the future, and and the session should offer a basic training with regard to analysis tools, and educate about the process of agency work. With a relationship established with ANAM, and the presence of a few specially-invited guests, they will start to see progress and hopefully continue to actively participate in the education, promotion and development of a project.

I am going to keep working with my aqueduct committee, which is plagued by personal issues and a lack of responsiblity. I am planning a training for April before their elections to clarify what constitutes a committee and the responsibilties of each role. I also hope to schedule work days to survey the system with a water level (a low-tech but outrageously accurate tool), so I can do more troubleshooting with the system.

School has started up again, and once the kids trickle back for good (they are in no big hurry. It's sort of a get there when you get there situation), I'll be making the rounds trying to establish a Panama Verde environmental group to promote conservation and maybe sneaking in a few life-skills charlas along the way.

So this is my plan. It's already underway and I am starting to feel like things are lining up. All I need now is a lot of patience, a big smile, determination, and some eager counterparts by my side.