Help us build latrines in Quebrada Pastor

The time has come. The last year in my site has been spent preparing for and planning a latrine project. The participants began with no knowledge of what was required, and little understanding of how better sanitation can help them improve their health. Since then, we have worked to provide better education and management skills to create a project that truly belongs to this community. This is their project, and with my help, they will continue to learn how to manage the funds, buy materials, and build the latrines. We are starting with 28 latrines, which will improve community latrine coverage by about 30 percent. These 28 families have proven their committment to this project, and will act as examples for others.

The community, through manual labor and use of local materials, will contribute 40 percent of the project´s cost. We must now raise $5,377 to pay for materials and transporation. PC Panama has an existing relationship with an organization which will donate 50 percent of that budget, which leaves $2,688.50 to be raised by friends, family, and other organizations in the United States. We hope to start construction in late January for February, when the weather is good and the big cocao harvests are done. You can help, by reading about the project and donating here. All donations are tax deductible. Similarly, if any of you have tips of organizations or companies who would be interested in making a donation, please contact me.

As always, thanks for reading and for your support.

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.

Llega la gringa

My nervousness about my site visit started mounting when I realized how close I was to training´s finish line. Since I arrived in Panama, there was always a period of time stretching before me, during which I could improve my Spanish, learn about PC´s development approach, figure out everything I needed to know about aqueducts, latrines, and methods for community mobilization and organization.

The list was long, but I had time.

So as excited as I was to finally see my community, I also realized that it was time to pull everything I´d learned togethe, and with luck, convince over a thousand people I was up to the task. I would be all on my own (solita!) during the 5-day visit, and responsible for introducing myself and explaining my presence to as many people as possible. I would find housing, develop a sketchy outline of a work plan, and start gathering information for my community analysis due in January.

Last Monday, we headed to Farallon in the Cocle province to meet our community guides, who would travel with us to site. As our stretch on the Pan-American highway rolled by my window, I found myself wondering how I tricked so many people into thinking I was capable of taking on this assignment, what PC promises will be "the hardest job you´ll ever love."

We´ve been told over and over that the PC process is a roller coaster of emotions. Until now, I hadn´t really experienced it. I´ve been sick, encountered difficulties and frustrations, but overall I´ve been happy here. Things have gone smoothly, and I´ve been going little by little, poco a poco, through training. It´s funny to think that my application process for PC started almost a full year ago, and only now are the details coming into focus. Only when I met my community guide this week did the question marks really start fading away; an image of what life will be like here started coming coming in clearer.

And I´m realizing that some of my self-doubt and worry was well-placed.

Quebrada Pastor has many needs. The aqueduct, which only serves a small fraction of the community, works inconsistently , and the water committee doesn´t actively work to repair it. The vast majority of the community lives at great distance from the center, with some houses a two-hour hike from the road. No one out there (¨por alla arriba¨) is connected to the aqueduct. They hike through the monte to springs or the river to fill up their water buckets. The only latrines are at the school. People do their business in the river (the same one from which they get their water, also the one in which they bathe and wash their clothes.)

On Saturday, we held a meeting as a way to introduce myself formally to the community. I gave a quick speech, explaining who I am, what environmental health is, and what we might work on. I stressed that I don´t have money, or projects in mind, and that we must work together to figure out what the community needs, and what they will use. My gung-ho counterpart, jumped right into talking about composting latrines, which was not what I would have done, but he seems to be a man with a mission. Many seemed interested, which was a pleasant surprise. For people who are used to using a river, storing excrement above ground for prolonged periods of time, and then using it on crops, is a big leap.

One of the greatest challenges I will face is involving the whole community in project development and plannning. My community guide asked for a PCV because of his interest in composting latrines, but it´s hard to say whether everyone´s interest is genuine, or simply at his urging. PCV have done plenty of latrine projects in Bocas. Many stand unused or unfinished. Additionally, weighing the needs for latrines against the need for running water is nearly impossible, especially when the most underserved parts of the community are unwilling or hesitant to participate in meetings and potential projects. We visited houses all day Thursday and Friday, hiking two and fro, and we still failed to make it to over 50 percent of Q.P.´s houses. I have to work to work to include them all. Let me just say I am going to be really skinny after two years of all that walking.

I am lucky to have landed in a community with established leaders, who understand the PC process. But their expectations are high, and their needs are urgent. I hope I can help keep them motivated and interested through what will surely be a long, arduous process. I am not here to march in, build lartrines, and march out. It is essential that PCVs assess the real needs of a community and equip them with the skills and knowledge to reach their own goals. It´s called "capacity building" in development lingo. It´s the cornerstone of ¨sustainabile development.¨

In many ways, this visit was an overwhelming one. I met sick people who couldn´t afford medical treatment. I saw children who seemed two or three years younger than they are, because a diet of boiled bananas and rice lacks some important nutrients, to put it mildly. When we were visiting house-to-house, my community partner had to explain to some people who I was very carefully, several times, because when they see a gringo, they assume s/he brings trouble. My host family asked me questions that I didn´t know how to begin to answer. After remarking about how many tourists come to Bocas Island, my host father soberly asked me if there are benefits to travel. He couldn´t see why people would go so far away from where they´re from. During my first few days in site, I had a cold. They told me when I came back, I had to bring sandals to wear in the house. They pointed to the cool cement floor and said "You have to protect your feet from the cold, Cati. It affects you." I just nodded, deciding to save my explanation of Germ Theory for another day.

Even though at times I have felt apprehensive by what this experience has in store, as always, there are are a multitude of quiet moments that remind me how rich this experience is. In so many ways, it´s possible for to feel more fulfilled here than I could ever be if I were doing something else. These reminders are everywhere. When my host dad grabs my hand to help the uncoordinated gringa cross one of the many creeks and rivers. Or when the vice-president of the water committee invites me to dinner, and having heard of my desire to learn some dialect, decides to start teaching me immediately. He asked me to read from a Spanish hymnal while he proudly sang the same lines in dialect. Or when I explained the idea of sustainability and could see they understood, and felt excited by the idea of empowerment. When I learned how to wash clothes on rocks by the river. When my host parents say they think they´ll cry when I leave in two years, and are already worried that I´ll forget them one day.

How could I ever forget? In five days, I felt sad, overhwhelmed, energized, welcomed, confused, relieved, intimidated, excited, and as far away from what I know as I´ve ever felt. Whatever these two years have in store, I´m sure it will be unforgettable.