Sunday, January 31, 2010

Your questions answered!

A recent comment from someone who may or may not be my mother raised an interesting question relating to my work in site.

What part does the government of Panama play in the PC action? Who pays for
the pvc piping and cement and such?

Fabulous question, Anonymous Reader Mom! The government of Panama plays a HUGE role in PC action, and of course, the only reason we are allowed to be here is by their invitation. One of the keys to our sustainable development goals is that the people we work with are able to secure project funding on their own in the future. That is, from Panamanian agencies that dole out funds for projects in ways quite different from how we do it in the U.S.


Once we decide on a project to start working on, we form committees and train them in how to write formal letters to local agencies and what needs to be included in order to convince agency directors that community leaders can manage and plan their own projects. EH volunteers work principally with the Ministry of Health (MINSA), which provides funding for aqueduct systems and latrine projects, and ANAM, which is an environmental conservation agency which is currently pushing composting latrine projects throughout the Bocas region.


Individual contributions are usually required in some capacity, but it is rarely monetary. We might ask community members to provide all the labor in hauling supplies, assembling latrines, or mixing cement to repair tanks or spring boxes. Some PCVs have asked people to provide wood to finish the walls of a latrine, or zinc for the roof, but from what I´ve heard, many fail to do it if left to their own devices.

So PCVs first avenue is to look for funding through what we call ¨host-country agencies,¨ which includes government offices or non-profits. If this fails, and it often does because our timelines are limited and many agencies work at a-- shall we say-- more relaxed pace, we have another route. We can write Peace Corps grants and post them on the PC web site where families, friends, and others can donate to specific projects or just make an overal donation. Volunteers have success with these, and the money comes fast, but they are used as a last resort because it is obviously something that our community members could not do for themselves.


We can also work with other agencies to aquire more resources, collaborate in charlas, or as in the case with the Ministry of Economic and Social Development (MIDES), ask them to certify our charlas to increase attendance. (Women who are part of the Red de Oportunidades-- Panama welfare-- must attend a certain amount of workshops and activities to continue benfitting, and a certified charla from MIDES does the trick.

Monday, January 25, 2010

So what exactly is it that you are doing?

Up until now, I have written mostly about the relationships I´ve formed and the cultural adjustments I´ve made since arriving in site. Our first three months are dedicated to an in-depth community analysis and building trust and friendships within the community. This is an essential part of Peace Corps service and sustainable development. Communities must be able to think critically about the resources they have, what they need, and how they can acheive it for themselves. Decades of paternalism and the delivery of ¨projects¨ for which they neither had to work nor plan end only in more dependence on government agencies and NGOs to bring villages what they need. When people participate and work for something, success rates are much higher.

The cornerstone of Peace Corps and sustainable development revolves around the idea that I teach as I go along, and that the community participates, plans, and manages its own project with my help. If they do this, when I leave, the knowledge and skills they have gained will stay, and the can continue forward in the future.

It´s a great idea, but it´s harder than it sounds. There are plenty of people in my village who believe all gringos are bad guys, who still don´t invite me in when I come to pasear. Many children and adults alike thought I came to take their kids back to the United States to be sold. Some think gringos eat people. A fellow volunteer lives in a community where everyone thought she was a spy and didn´t want to share anything with her for fear of where the information was going.

I´ve come a long way in my community since I arrived at the end of October, but you can see why the first step of building relationships is so important. We are up against a lot of ugly history, cultural boundaries, and foundationless fear and rumors. The first step of our Environmental Health project framework is to motivate and organize community members. To help them form committees, understand how to run meetings effectively, and to get people to actively participate in their own development. People in my community rarely attend meetings, and those who do are the same people over and over. Most of these people view ¨the community¨as only the 30-ish houses nearest the road, and ignore the remaining 65 that are spread out over hills, across rivers, and as far as two hours or more from the street. To advise every house of a meeting requires at least four days of walking. The disperese nature of the community, and the overall lack or motivation and organization will be one of my biggest challenges.

Such work is the first goal of the Environmental Health framework. The other two revolve around water and sanitation. Depending on the needs of a community, EH volunteers may educate existing water committees about the maintenence of an aqueduct, basic aqueduct theory, trouble shooting, waterborne diseases and better managing of time, funds, and meetings. This is a huge felt need in QP, where broken pipes go unfixed for weeks, some houses connected to the aqueduct have been without water for months, and for the fun of the ick factor, our water reserve tanks have crabs and sometimes worms inside of them.

I attended my first water committee meeting this past week, and while it was an experience that was at times frustrating, and I still battle with Getting People to Listen To Me, it is also heartening because I know I have the ability and resources to help them in many important and sustainable ways. EH volunteers also help to plan for and design other water systems, be it aqueduct lines or rain-water catchment. About 70 percent of my community is without running water in their homes, and use springs, creeks or wells (many of which are extermely dubious) for drinking, cooking and wash water. I am still thinking about what can be done for these homes. They are all so spread out, it is impossible that one water system could serve them all, and they also lack organization of any kind. They tell me they want water, but they haven´t come to meetings, or done anything other than voice their need. Beginning to work with some leaders in small committees and planning for a future project, or at the least, rain-water catchment systems is something I hope to do as well, though as I see it now, it cannot be my first priority.

Santitation is the other element. EH volunteers educate about fecal-oral transmission pathways, and essentially, promoting the construction, proper use and maintenence latrines. In Bocas, living in an indigenous community, this is another element where cultural understanding is key. Most of our technical sanitation training revolved around building and promoting compositng latrines. In my community, only about 10 percent of houses (generous estimations) use latrines, and those are full or poorly maintained. All of them are pit latrines, and most of them have buckets of wash water to clean with after use. Toilet paper is used by only a few families, and the others have no interest in it becasue they feel cleaner using water.

Which is a problem for composting latrines, which must be kept dry. It is also a problem because so few houses have a nearby water source, so they are extremely unlikely to use composting latrines if they could just go to the creek, or in the woods, and wash afterwards. I am realistic about the fact that, right now, I know of only about five families who would properly use and maintain a composting latrine. For most, pit latrines are a better option. In time, many will be ¨ready¨ for composting latrines, but as of right now, few people have identified them as a priority.

I am running into a small problem because my counter part solicitied PC for the specific purpose of a compositing latrine project. He knows they are better for the environment, last longer, and of course produce a fabulous compost for the finca. I think he is unrealistic about the scope of a project we could undertake in QP, as he is comparing our situation to one in a nearby community where 35 latrines were built by a PC volunteer. But this is my job: assessment, and then education and promotion. I have plenty of time to gauge genuine interest (and not just what he claims when he went around and told everyone I was coming to work on composting latrines) and feasibile success rates. Many volunteers have built latrines in Bocas that went unused or were unfinished. I would hate to do that.

So that, in short, is what EH volunteers will do, and as I wrap up my community analysis, what I am imagining for my time here in Panama. As always, leave me questions in the comments.

We never know what the other will say

One of my volunteer friends Anita once asked me how my community was responding to my sense of humor. She knew me well enough to know that this could possibly spell disaster. She asked back in December, and I could only say that I was never very funny in site, and the thought hadn´t crossed my mine. I was still trying to navigate more smoothly through conversations and cultural norms, and wasn´t thinking of making many jokes.

But in the last month, my sense of humor has started to trickle back into my interactions. Attribute it to more facility with language, better confianza with my community, frustration with routine conversation. I call it dumb because the last things folks here understand is sarcasm. Bear witness to my failures and please laugh with me because they certainly didn´t when the following things happened.

1) When I lived with Roberto alla arriba, many of my friends liked to make a big fuss about how far I had to walk and what an injustice it was that they sent the gringa to live so far away. They were horrified to think about me walking alone and fighting with the hills, mud and snakes on a daily basis. After such a remark while visiting at my now-neighbor´s house, I leaned toward their seven-year-old daughter and said ¨So, when are you going to come with me?¨She grinned sheepishly and I continued talking. At some point, she got up and changed into what I can only describe as a first-communion dress. I finished talking with her parents, and went next door to my soon-to-be house to drop something off. As I came through the gate, ready to leave, she was outside on a bench. Her hair was done, she had her boots on, and an overnight bag on her back. She was ready to come with me.

I had to kindly explain that I was just joking? I had said similar things before and no one had ever outfitted their child for the overnight journey. I told her maybe another time, because Roberto´s house had 7 kids in it, a pregnant wife, and of course a gringa. There was little space to spare. She took the news well, but her older sister told me a few days later she back to her house and wailed.

Oops.

2) I am surprised this family still talks to me, because the following incident happened with their son. One day when he came over, I was tickling him, and his legs were flailing into my table, on which I had a kerosene lamp. I promptly stopped ticklng him, and said, as seriously as possible, ´´If you break my kerosene lamp, I will break your bones.¨ It just sort of came out. I was also having a not-so-good day that day, so maybe my tone of voice was less than playful. It was meant to me one of those ´´Quit it or I´ll smack you into next Tuesday¨ lines that everyone knows are said just for the fun of the threat. He didn´t look especially horrified, so I assumed he knew I was joking.

Another neighbor, who was also present, looked at me soberly and said, ¨Cati, and if he dies?¨
I quickly replied, ¨Oh no one ever dies from a broken bone!¨

In retrospect, I read this situation terribly and didn´t realize everyone thought I was serious, and frankly, was quite afraid of me, until he came back the next day and inquired about what exactly I meant by that threat. I apologized profusely, explained again it was all in fun, and he said, ¨Oh you were just joking with us?¨

I felt really bad about that.

3) But still not enough to learn the lesson for good. Last week I was visiting at one of my favorite houses where my favorite old man lives with his daughter and her five (soon to be six!) children and hubby. Her 5 and 7-year-olds were leaving to go bathe in the quebrada and they invited me to go with them. I said I wanted stay in the house and talk, so they ran off, all smiles and giggles. As they scurried away, I yelled ¨Bring me five shrimp!¨ More giggles erupted, and they disappeared down the hill. At least an hour passed before they came back to the house and delivered into my hands five extremely large and still very living shrimp.

It is dificult to catch shrimp with bare hands, and I was embarassed that they must have spent so much time trying to collect exactly the right number for me.

Lesson learned: Don´t be sarcastic in your Ngobe village. Stick to slapstick, hyperbole, and falling in the mud, and you will have a sufficient laughtrack. Sarcasm leads to crying, paralyzing fear, and handfuls of aquatic creatures you didn´t really want in the first place.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

My house is a very, very fine house.

Most volunteers build their own homes with the help of community members. It is a great way to bond with the people you´ll need to be working with, plus, how cool is it to say you built your own house? Throughout training and early on during my time in-site, I thought that´s what I would be doing too.

But eventually I decided to rent, and I think it was certainly the better decision. First, if I were to build a house, I would build it very close to where the rented house would be. I would have to worry about getting all the supplies, installing water, possibly building a tap stand and bathing area (or else bathe in the river for two years... ick), and spend a whole heap of my own money. Peace Corps doesn´t really give us money to build our own houses, and volunteers inevitabily end up withdrawing lots from their accounts at home. We only receive a $300 ¨settling-in allowance,¨ presumabily to buy things like a mattress, pots and pans, a gas tank, range top, etc. My friend who is building his own house nearby estimates he will spend $1,300, including everything, and that is with some generous donations from his community in terms of wood, labor and supplies. Living with host families is difficult, so I wanted to be able to move in as soon as I was allowed. The family who owns the rented house has another, and doesn´t spend much time in this one, so I was able to keep stuff there when I moved to another host family, and start buying things poco a poco and keep them there until I move in for good. Renting was the better option.

The house I will be living in is close to the road, so I hear a lot of trucks and buses whizzing by, which is not exactly what I pictured when I imagine my Peace Corps life. But the proximity does make things convenient when I want to bring supplies back or catch the first bus out early in the morning. I also have neighbors whose proximity can be a good thing, but also feels a bit too much, with visitors constantly coming by, and my neighbor Seña being able to look from her cooking area and see onto the porch. I am hoping one day the novelty of staring at me and visiting constantly will wear off. In the mean time, I will keep the porch gate locked, and start turning away over-eager visitors.

I joke with my friends that the house is something of a Ngobe mansion. It is definitely nicer than all of the houses around it, and is even painted, which is a rarity in these communities. The bottom floor (yes there are two floors... another rarity) is a fenced-in porch with a concrete floor, the kitchen, an outdoor sink and a bathroom area with a toilet and an indoor shower. I live in a community where only a handful of houses have latines and my house has an indoor-flush toilet. Kind of ritzy. The upstairs floor has four rooms. I am sequestered in one small one due to nighttime rat visitors in the larger bedroom in which I had hoped to sleep.
(Note: Rat tips? They eat the bait from my rat trap and leave. Their is rat poop on my food shelf, and until I boxed everything up, they were munching through soup and coffee packets, crackers, anything. Rats are disgusting disease carriers and I would like them to go.)

Here is the front of the house.
Here is where I shall make my culinary masterpieces:

Here is a room upstairs, where I will read/study/hide from children:


So yeah, the house, if you can call it fancy is a lot nicer than all of the other houses in the community, which makes me feel a little more visible and slightly awkward, because no one can believe that I´ll be only one person living in such a big house. Parents have offered their children to ¨accompoñar¨me in the nights. Check my photo album for more photos of the house and a bunch of other stuff.