Visitor's Pass.

One thing I will miss about Panama and my time here is the sense of community. People talk to their neighbors. They come over just to say hi and spend some time talking to you.

I, the resident gringa, of course receive a disproportionate amount of visitors on a daily basis, mostly children and my former host family, and I´m sometimes overwhelmed by the number of people who come parading by on a daily basis. To give you an idea of daily foot traffic in and out, I have made a list entrances and exits on a fairly typical day.

7 a.m. - My host brother goes to high school at night in Almirante and takes the first bus home in the morning. He usually arrives at my house early in the morning, sometimes just as I am rolling out of bed. I usually try to shoo him away, but as my house is used as a storage bin for all members of my host family, he usually sneaks in to drop something off and then continues to linger until I shoot him enough grumpy morning looks that he gets the hint.

7:15 a.m.- My host family stores their shoes at my house and the kids stop by to wash their feet and put on their uniforms. If I´ve already made breakfast, several moments are reserved for them staring at what I´m eating and telling me it looks gross.

7:30 a.m.- As I am washing up breakfast dishes, the youngest neighbor kids usually come by and ask to come in and play. I usually tell them it´s too early. Unless they offer to wash my dishes, in which case, I pull the stool up to the sink and let them have at it.

7:35 a.m.- Someone comes by with a project-related question. Where is the shovel? Do you have a bucket? How much wood do I need for the walls of my latrine? Will you come and observe every small task associated with my latrine so I don´t make a mistake?

8 a.m.- My former host mother comes in without knocking or announcing her arrival. As I am busy trying to get dressed and ready, she plops down in my chair and announces she is thirsty. If I pretend not to hear or understand, she begins breathing heavily and makes quite the show out of acting tired and dehydrated.

8:30 am.- 4 p.m.- I am out and about working in the community. People come by during this time and report to me later their shock and dismay upon finding the house empty.

4 p.m.- As the children see me coming home from work, they ask to come over. I am usually exhausted and filthy, and it takes my very last reserve bit of patience and benevolence to tell them to let me bathe first. They demand that I call them when I am ready to receive visitors.

4:15 p.m.- Despite said agreement, they yell and ask if it´s time to come over yet. Or they are waiting outside my fence as I emerge from the bathroom, and my dreams of alone time vanish into thin air. I run a comb through my hair and relent.

5:00 p.m.- I kick the children out just in time to have my former host-siblings in the junior-high school come and drop off their shoes, books and clothes.

5:20 p.m.- No sooner do they leave then some other visitors who just got out of class stop by. Often one of my Panama Verde kids or some other directionless youths looking for somewhere to sit and pass the time. My host brother, the one who attends high school otuside of town, usually comes by around this time again on his way to night classses.

6:00 p.m.- By this time my hopes of relaxing in the hammock with a cup of coffee have all but vanished, and I decide to start cooking dinner before it gets too dark. Just as the onions and garlic begin to sizzle, my host dad pops in to drop off his chain saw. He sits and seems like he wants to talk. Sometimes I indulge, other times I refuse to leave he kitchen and concentrate very closely on the onions.

6-8 p.m.- Things are finally quieting down, but at least one person usually stops by to chat, often asking what´s for dinner or if the coffee is ready yet. Sometimes the neighbors send someone over to ask for oil, sugar, or kerosene. Inevitably, the kids arrive and try to come in again, although the ¨no visitors after six o´clock¨ rule has long been enforced.

Please note that this happens in a day when I am out of the house working most of the time. Imagine what happens on the less busy days. I get frustrated with people using my house as a public park and storage room, and sometimes feel that whhole days go by in which I never escape the gaze of visistors and loiterers. But, I do love having neighbors, and being accessible to the community, and I try my best to remind myself that they come by because they like me and that I should soak up all the time I have left with them. But my first cup of morning coffee? I´m not sharing that.