Lost and Found in Panama

The list of 27.

2010-04-15T08:36:00.001-07:00

Today is my last day of Peace Corps. I can't believe it! Tomorrow I will go back to my site (but as a RETURNED Peace Corps Volunteer, not a CURRENT PCV) to collect my cat, close up my house and give away/sell all my belongings, and to say goodbyes. I have a final breakfast planned with my host family. I will be eating patacones (double-fried green bananas) and boiled yucca...2 of my favorite unhealthy foods that I mostly don't eat any more. Then I head to Panama City, spend the night with relatives of my host family (so they are my relatives too, right?) near the airport, and arrive in Albany on Monday. I am pumped, though it is going to be hard to leave.

I thought breaking down the experience and my thoughts into 27 nuggets would be a fun experiment and an easy way for you readers to get an idea of my thoughts as a whole about my time. I have been working on this list for a while, it will never be complete. But you can thank me later for sparing you a loooong winding road through my brain. Why 27? That is the number of months in a standard Peace Corps service. AND I FINISHED IT! Sure I have some regrets, things I wish I’d known from the start, lots more stories, but let’s just leave it at this list, and you can ask me about the other stuff when I get home. And one more thing, if you are going to ask me about my service, the more specific your question, the better I will be able to answer. Could you really answer someone who asked you “so how were the last 27 months of your life”?

1. I will always respect the order and fairness of a well-formed queue leading up to a counter. Very few people leave happy when they are elbowing their way for a bus, food or other service. Waiting is annoying, but undeniably fair and I suggest that more businesses in Panama and Bolivia try this technique (so far only banks, electric companies and some supermarkets really have this established).
2. If I had one thing to impart that would have a great impact on “development” it would be to encourage the governments of every country to teach children that it is okay to dream, to give them tools to be creative and critical thinkers and to AVOID the traps of teaching and learning by rote which stifle growth in the child and thus in a country’s future.
3. You can´t talk sense into insects.
4. How to bathe without water pressure or a bath tub: Fill a bucket of water. Take it to wherever you would normally shower. Use a cup to mete out water over your body. Lather up. Grab the cup by the edge, dip into the bucket WITHOUT letting your soapy hands touch the water. Pour over yourself. If water is limited, use a squeegy motion with your hands to remove excess suds after each rinse with water. For a spa-like experience, boil a small amount of the water with herbs (rosemary, lemongrass, mint, what have you) and add this to your big bucket of cool water, then proceed.
5. If you believe what you are doing is right, then keep on doing it and ignore the critics. You may end up changing minds with your conviction.
6. Good friends and neighbors are essential. They are there to listen, to laugh with, to sit quietly with, to surprise with some goodie from the oven or a hunk of cold watermelon that won´t fit in the fridge, etc. They make hard times bearable and good times better. From now on making and strengthening these relationships will be a priority of mine. This isn´t to say I don´t still see myself as independent, but friends help a lot.
7. Sometimes behavior change is as simple as pushing someone to consider why and what they are doing. There is a polite way to do this, and I think it comes down to treating everyone like human beings by being honest and up front about things. Honesty is respect and creates a space for cross-cultural understanding. So tell people when they are mis-stepping!
8. A big lesson: Sometimes I need to ask for help. I would like to be super woman, but I am not and although it saddens me, I can´t do everything alone. For one, I´m terrible at building fences. Had I asked for help with that in Bolivia, a cow wouldn´t have eaten all my veggies growing in the garden. Clearly, I have a complex about dependency, but I have learned (or, am still learning) that asking for help doesn’t mean I am helpless or not independent.
9. Monitoring and Evaluation are crucial to development, to projects of any kind really. Instead of focusing on a final product, recognize small steps, the successes and failures along the way. It´s more rewarding and leads to a much better end product. In this organization, we like to say ¨process over product.¨
10. It´s easy to get trapped inside your head on a bad day; easier still when you are isolated by culture and geography. The key is to get out and do something, especially if it´s physical. My favorite remedy is digging up soil with a pickaxe.
11. Walk confidently, upright and imagine a forcefield around you. People will mostly leave you alone. In 2+ years in supposedly dangerous countries, I only had one robbery attempt on my person.
12. Cleaning a house in the tropics is not fun, but really important since dust and bugs (and animal hair) seem to accumulate much faster than in temperate zones. Plus, cleaning and organizing can be very therapeutic.
13. I am a terrible liar, so I found that the best way for me to live is to only do things I am proud of or that I can at least explain. I can only lie if my safety is involved.
14. There is always more to learn: It took me until March 2010 to realize that ctrl-S doesn´t mean save on a Spanish computer…
15. My culture generally values creativity and originality, we like to be different and unique in small and often big ways; many cultures are not this way…realizing this was a big ¨aha¨ moment for me, and went a long way explaining why so few people actively seek out the new and different solutions.
16. Some things I will probably have to un-learn: Yelling (common practice, instead of walking over to where someone is. I yell to say “bless you” to my neighbor when she sneezes); constantly talking about the weather; burning trash (fine with me, I hate it!); throwing toilet paper in a trash can next to the toilet; being really really frugal (ask anyone who visited me, I have a very interesting i.e. low price point); keeping a really dense wall up to men who talk to me (give an inch here…and you could be in trouble)
17. Things I can do now that I couldn’t before: sharpen and use a machete; speak Spanish; understand Spanish; handwash clothes; survive on less water than I thought possible; sleep in a hammock (but I have to be really tired); identify intestinal ailments; distinguish types of wind and sun (the quality of light, speed and direction of wind, it all means something); wait around without anything to do (ha! only when forced).
18. I have drunk too many tiny cups of bad coffee for one lifetime. A shame, since Panama is actually the place where some of the most prized coffee in the world is grown.
19. There is always more to do, the work is never done. I have tried to let go of the things that were beyond the realm of my time or control, but it hasn’t been easy to hear in my last few days about projects I could have done, had I the time still.
20. Carry the following: toilet paper, hand sanitizer, a washcloth (for wiping sweat), deodorant, a knife, a spoon and a change of underwear….you will be so happy when you suddenly need one of those things and you have it!
21. Take care of your digestive system and your skin by drinking LOTS of water. (This is also why you should carry TP).
22. Life love and death don’t discriminate between what you consider the real world and an alternative experience. It’s all your real life, so you have to just roll with it.
23. I do NOT like to be stared at or similarly sized up. The best way to combat it is to stare back. Freaks people OUT.
24. Going to miss: really good smelling air in the mornings (orchids and fruit blossoms in the misty air); people, feeling a part of a community; the intensity of my daily life here; feeling tough and strong every time I struggle and achieve something (like drawing water from a well when nothing comes from the tap just so I can have some tea and a rinse off in the evenings)…let´s call this undeniable self-reliance; hilarious English pronuncitions; the chance to see plants and children I know grow; 35 cent ice cream cones; free bananas.
25. Things I´m really excited for: trash disposal and recycling; libraries, used-books stores and netflix; good cheese; ice cream in my freezer; so-called ethnic foods; health food stores; feeling clean for longer than a few minutes after a shower; showers and baths that don´t involve either a bucket or a search for water; coffee in a large size, to-go, in a reusable travel mug; no more plastic bags!; being current with news, culture, my friends´ and family´s lives; a job; a job that I can leave at my doorstep if I want to; cool weather; choosing my clothes based on my mood, being able to wear more clothes or less clothes when I want, not having to choose between physical comfort and emotional comfort when dressing (like, if I wore a breezy sundress here, I would be compromising my emotional comfort because of the attention it draws; if I wear jeans and a button-down shirt, I overheat); drinking the water, no questions asked; a drop in my stress level; customer service; no more mid-afternoon heat stroke headaches; cooking for more people than myself (I love cooking what I want, when I want, but I love to share food and entertain guests); my cookbooks; my sharp chef’s knife; and about a billion other things.
26. Things I am happy to leave behind: biting ants, termites, tiny clustering ants that show up inside things you haven´t used in a while; ¨gringa¨; power outages and current spikes; cat calls in Spanish; cat calls in English; machismo y racismo; awful radio DJ´s and their sound effect buttons; the heat and a concrete house (we could say it´s an oven…I never tried but I suspect you could fry an egg on the walls at mid-day).
27. I used to say ¨give what you can.¨ Now I have realized that sharing is probably more appropriate to my message because it implies equality between ¨giver¨ and ¨receiver.¨ Instead of thinking of having given up 27 months of my life to be a Peace Corps volunteer, I find great comfort in thinking that I have shared 27 months of my life with so many types of people (some who enriched my time with positive experiences, others who did so less directly, though everyone played a part). So my parting lesson for you readers is: share. Share your time, share your food, share work, share your thoughts, your ears, your abilities, your able body, with anyone else who is willing to share. This will make us all better off.

Pura Vida

2010-03-30T09:27:00.000-07:00

Ok, I will admit to not understanding Costa Rica´s tourism (?) motto: pura vida. It means pure life, but that just seems nonsensical to me. Well, it didn´t make much sense until recently. I realized that without some major barriers to life experience (ok, so my computer won´t start up and I have virtually nothing left to read) there is an extreme point of experiencing your surroundings. Probably something similar to a trek through the Costa Rican rain forest...though I am in the hot dry flatlands of Panama. Truly, I feel that I am vibrating at a different frequency, that when the breeze blows and the leaves flutter, part of my spirit is similarly fluttering and enjoying the ride. So, I´m super duper bummed about having potentially lost ALL the photos on my computer (archives which went back to my NYC days), though I haven´t given up hope in the Mac Genii in the USA. However, I´m spending even more time hanging with my community, I´m reading books in Spanish (Gabriel Garcia Marquez...it is quite a challenge but the only novel I have left), I´m listening to the radio in Spanish (generally trying to find a decent station that plays non-80´s, non-DJ sound-effects heavy, non-romantic Spanish, non-religious music), I´m standing in my front door smelling the air (a mix of wonderful blossoms and smoke because we are in the burning-grass season). Obviously, if I had a lot more time left to go, I may not be feeling so free and easy. But I recognize a change in myself: less freaking out about immediate problems, more faith that issues will get resolved in time, a lot more ability to just be purely alive and within my surroundings. Completamente viva (completely alive) doesn´t quite have the ring that pura vida has, but I think that´s a good way to understand it.

Stay tuned for my list of lessons learned...which I have to re-write from memory since it was saved only to my computer.

Helados de Panama

2010-03-08T06:00:00.001-08:00

Double posting today! Check below for a more serious article...

As long-ago promised, here is my opinion on and a guide to the frozen treats of Panama. If you are ever in Panama, you could use this as a well-researched list. If not, maybe you’ll just enjoy reading my thoughts on this issue.

Duros: Found anywhere with a freezer, often in a small-town kiosk or just out of someone’s house. These are the plastic-bag popsicles. Fruits, drink mix, coconut and milk, or rice-and-milk or rice-and-pineapple are blended up and poured into tiny plastic bags, which go in the freezer. Often you get a choice of “aguada” (half-frozen with some ice in the center) or bien congelado (well frozen). To eat, one bites off a corner of plastic, tries to find a place to properly dispose of the little piece (good luck), and sucks out the melting deliciousness. At ten cents, a serious bargain. Fifteen cents is reasonable especially for something a bit more involved (like if there’s milk, coconut or rice). If someone wants to charge you more, there better be strawberries or something else really special. As I mentioned, there is a major range in flavors. My favorites are coconut and pineapple, and obviously guanábana but it’s pretty rare. I avoid the rojo or koolaid (pronounced coo-lay-ee), the nance (a fruit I just don’t like). The arroz con piña and arroz con leche are made from rice cooked with a lot of water and whatever flavoring, and then blended up and frozen. Excellent choices but hard to come by.

Cones and cups: Can be purchased in bus terminals, supermarkets, mini-marts. 30-40 cents, always hit the spot. I have only seen the cheaper national brand, Estrella Azul, sold in this form, but it’s really not bad if you avoid a few deadly flavors. Safest flavors: chocolate, chocalmendra (chocolate nut), galleta (cookie), vainilla (vanilla), dulce de leche (rare, excellent), guanábana. The grape nut (pronounced gray-noo) is a favorite for some, but to me it’s just like a vanilla with flavorless cereal in it. Casablanca (white house) is a mysterious name for a pinkish ice cream (it has mildly fruity bits in a vanilla base) but I continue to order it since it’s not too bad and I want to figure it out. The ones I avoid are: naranja-piña (orange-pineapple), cereza (cherry), fresa (strawberry), all too artificial in color and flavor. I don’t like the nance fruit, I can’t imagine the ice cream tastes too good, so I’ve never tried it. Neopolitano is a conundrum, mixing two acceptable flavors with a third bad one, and generally it’s the strawberry that overtakes the flavor of the other two. If you have communication troubles, your best bet is pointing to a brown or white in the freezer case and avoiding crazy colors. Cups (tazas) are generally 5 cents more than a cone (cono), but you don’t risk toppling the scoop (most scoopers have not learned proper technique, sadly). My top three: galleta, dulce de leche, Casablanca.
Carts: Carts are ubiquitous at parades, but not hard to find on normal days. Di’Bari and La Italianita sell wonderful popsicles, both fruit and ice cream. With these I tend to choose as I would choose a duro, coconut or fruit. I find the La Italianita ice cream to be a little artificial but not bad. My go-to for these is always the guineo (banana). It tastes fresh, sweet, banana-y and not at all fake. It’s like a smashed banana (apparently I was a fan at a very early age, and remain one to this day), frozen on a stick. Fresa and coco are also winners, but I must admit I have less experience with the flavor range on these carts. As I mentioned, during parades there are more carts, and sometimes you’ll see homegrown operations selling something surely delicious. Make your own judgement about hygiene, but a strong stomach can probably handle this stuff okay. I once had a real winner, something called Helado Tableño which hailed, as the name suggests, from the town of Las Tablas, which is in the heart of one of the dairy-producing areas (the Azuero; Chiriqui also has a lot of good dairy). I’m not sure what made it specifically tableño, but it tasted sweet and creamy, almost like coconut.

Gourmet and Supermarket choices: I must admit, I’m a sucker for the gourmet ice creams. Luckily for my waistline, I can’t keep ice cream in my “freezer” (that’s what it is called, not what it does) and the gourmet shops are only in Panama City. However, I definitely have an opinion. The supermarkets and some better mini-marts stock pints through huge buckets of Estrella Azul and a slightly higher-caliber brand called Borden. There are also individual cups and popsicles to be found. I recommend Skimo Pie (that’s right, because of the way things are prounounced, it’s Eskimo pie) in a bind, though it´s nothing close to as good as a Klondike bar. However, if you’re at the supermarket, you have lots of choice. The pint is easy to polish off alone, but I have a fond memory of sharing a chocolate pint of Estrella Azul in Santa Fe with my dear dad when the family was visiting, and being satisfied with half. Supermarkets are your best bet for the better flavors, even for light and frozen yogurt options, which I haven’t tried. Moving up the scale, Bonlac brand is more gourmet, selling very delicious sundae cups (pricey! 85 cents to a dollar), as well as larger versions of the sundae flavors. Dos Pinos is a Costa Rican brand which seems to be on the game with good flavors and light options (however I find their cheeses to be kind of gross), but only sells in larger sizes so I’ve never tried it. And yeah, you can often find Breyers and some other imports, but that’s not why you’re in Panama now is it?
As for gourmet shops…La Italianita has some outlets in the malls, but if you’re at a mall you MUST go to Gelarti or Crepes and Waffles. Gelarti is something I’d eat back home, no question. They even have a mint chip! That’s generally my first choice, but those extreme chocolates and even the vanilla varieties are all very satisfying. There are sherberts and sorbets, which I’ve never tried since the creamy ones just call to me so much; I’m sure they’re good. I didn’t so much like the mixed berry compared side-by-side with a chocolate. Priced at 1.75 for a single, large scoop in a quality cone, 2.25 for the second dip, which is overkill generally. Biggest challenge: trying to pronounce the English names of some of the flavors in the way that a native Spanish speaker would understand. Why the names are in English is beyond me…which is why I have never ordered Cookies n Cream. If your Spanish is good enough, just say what it would be in Spanish. Crepes and Waffles is a restaurant with several outlets, in malls and one in the Bella Vista area of Panama City. I have only had it once, when I had a sorbet craving. I forget whether it was mora or frambuesa (blackberry or raspberry), but it was excellent. You can find almost fat-free softserve at Casa de Helados, if that´s your game. Or track down my RPCV friends Lebo and Michelle in South America for a softserve cone and entertainment. In the rapidly-gentrifying Casco Viejo part of Panama City, there are also a few gourmet shops. I unfortunately don’t recall the name of the one where I stopped, but they patiently let me try their en vogue flavors like albahaca (basil), naranja chocolate (orange chocolate) et al. If you’re in Casco Viejo, you’d find this place as it’s not a large area. However, if you hail from a foodie city, this probably is less special than it is to a deprived PCV. I think my bill was around 2 dollars and THAT you won´t get in San Francisco.

So never fear, in Panama, where it is summer all year, you can always get some ice cream!

fait accompli?

2010-03-08T05:48:00.000-08:00

Well, I’ve been meaning to update my blog for a while, but I’m being pulled in many directions lately. I’m learning a lot, as always, and trying to give constructive criticism so that future people in my position will not have to be so stressed out! Enough said.

Happily, my community is still (or, at long last?) inviting me to work. This past month, my host mom has been harvesting a lot of cucumbers, which we had planted together. She doesn’t need my help with that, but this is part of our ongoing conversation/effort about how she ought to consider her vegetable garden and poultry-raising as her “job.” That is, she has shifted (mentally) from these being on-the-side activities to what she does daily with as much commitment as people who leave their houses for a job. A lot of the seeds I’ve given her haven’t panned out, but we were very pleased to be able to grow enough greenbeans (the short, sweet variety that are considered “quality” here) to collect the seeds. I actually imparted some seed-saving knowledge, that she should let the beans dry on the plant instead of harvesting them green, in order to save the seed. I can’t control what happens after I leave, but maybe the shift is more permanent this time than in previous years. I have to remember that she hasn’t lived in this town as long as the others, so she is, comparatively speaking, only starting out, and so the stopping and starting that has characterized my work with her is probably symptomatic of her being new at this more than anything else. She also seems to be getting more saavy about grocery shopping to include healthier choices than when I first arrived. Hard to say whether this is a direct effect from my nutrition talks with her, but I like to say I have something to do with it.

My friend and neighbor, Mari, with whom I’ve worked a lot (who also tends to frustrate me with her desultory garden-tending habits) invited me to work to chop down the grass in what should be her garden beds. I was not too animated about going, since it seems all we have done in the past half a year is chop down the grass but never work the soil or plant anything. However, of course I went! I have been saying “yes” to everything lately so I won’t have regrets about what I might have missed. I asked Mari, as a way of pushing her to plan and to have a goal, what she wanted to plant. I told her I wanted to know so that when I’m in the USA I would be able to have a picture of her garden in my head. At first she answered, “no se Raquel,” which is standard. Rather than give an opinion, usually the first thing I hear is that someone doesn’t know. I gave a few ideas, and quickly it became clear that she was concerned about how to get seeds. Now, in the past I’ve given her seeds for free and not much has come of it. A combination of her character and her mother’s recent illness got in the way. But I think she’s turning a corner now. Her daughter is starting school this week (tomorrow, as I’m writing this), and maybe this landmark in her life is causing her to reflect on her goals and vision. Mari now has a paying job, and can definitely afford the basic seeds that are easy to find in Santiago, where she goes fairly often. Besides that, a lot of the vegetables that she has started to buy also have seeds one can cull from the actual fruit (tomato, pumpkin, beans). I told her this, and she agreed. So we’ll see what she ends up doing. Anyways, after we chopped (with machetes!) for a while, we sat to talk. Since I’ve been busy and she is often at work when I stop by her mother’s house, it’s been a while. I consider her one of my best friends, and we speak very openly to each other. I’ll never forget or discredit her easy friendship, which has made my service so much better.

We talked about her sadness at not losing weight or being in shape (which is harder for her now that she works in an office and isn’t on her feet all day: a major trade-off between country and city life, as we all know). I encouraged her, as I always do, to try some new things, to ask my host mom to be her exercise partner (seriously, both women are trying to get in shape and are a bit embarrassed to exercise alone in public, and I’ve been trying to get them to partner up FOREVER), etc. Though this conversation is one we often have, I’m including it because in the context of what happened next, I’m hopeful that what I am saying is getting through and sticking.

Somehow the conversation shifted, and she gave me the ultimate gift: confirmation that I have had an effect on someone in my community (her). When I was interviewing for Peace Corps, I said that I’d be satisfied if I changed only one person’s life for the better. Maybe I was exaggerating or just naïve at the time, since lately I’ve felt like I haven’t done anything or enough with my time in Peace Corps, etc. Yet what I realized I’d been missing was the simple confirmation that I’d reached this goal. Mari was talking about how someone else in town (whom I’ve never worked with though I’ve invited her to some things) had been bad-mouthing me to Mari and another woman, saying she had no idea what “that gringa” was here for and everything else bad that still really hurts to hear said. But Mari had defended me, told the third woman (an outsider in the community) that it’s not Raquel’s fault that she’d never worked with woman 1, because Raquel doesn’t force anyone to do anything but is a really good worker, a professional, who knows many things, who will always help IF YOU ASK. Mari had me tearing up at this point. She used all the descriptors I would want used about me, and believe me, I was not prompting her to say any of this. I couldn’t open my mouth because I would have started crying for real. Furthermore, Mari said that she didn’t understand why she and the rest of the community hadn’t supported my efforts more. She saw how hard I tried with the women’s health class (she made it clear that SHE understood it wasn’t a weight-loss class but a health and nutrition class), with the tree planting, with everything. She said the community should have been more involved, because I was trying to make things better for them and without me, things would just always be the same (for example the area where we planted trees would remain treeless forever). Finally, she told me that she really has learned a lot from me (she named everything we’d done together), and plans to make use of the techniques we’ve practiced together. She asked that I send her seeds from home (obviously I will, since what they get here are awful hybrids that they can’t save the seeds from). She told me that her older brother (who I always thought considered me as sort of nuts) and mother (who is indeed a major supporter) were always telling Mari to use what she’d learned with Raquel, because “Raquel, sí sabe” (Raquel, yes knows). I feel I can end my service with that one nagging question finally answered. Yes, I changed something for the better. I’m excited to check in, to visit in coming years, and to see how this change may have had domino effects. But that’s getting ahead of myself. For now, I’m simply and completely elated!

Do you see what I see? The identity crisis edition…

2010-02-05T08:13:00.000-08:00

22-1-10

January is FLYING by. Has flown by by the time I post, I presume. This month I have been visiting many communities as part of the “site identification and preparation” process. Add to that a very quick trip to Panama City, and the normal visits to my provincial capital to see agency representatives and do my personal errands, and you get one tired Raquel. I’m less in love with bus travel this month, seeing as the trips I’m taking are generally much longer and hotter than my normal bus to Santiago…and waiting around for the buses is not that fun all the time. My normally very-healthy body and mind seemed to suffer from less sleep, a lot of time seated on a bumpy road, having to choose between packaged cookies, crackers, or nothing to tide my appetite over, and being anxious about getting things done. I even had an episode where I forgot my ATM PIN in Panama City, resulting in my card being blocked and my having to fix that whole mess. I don’t forget many things, I’m convinced that happened because of my brain being so exhausted.

However, the difficult part of that job is behind me. I’ll still be traveling, but with Peace Corps staff in Land Rovers with AC (you also get there a lot faster in a small vehicle that doesn’t stop every few minutes). I’m going to make a real effort to take some days to see the parts of Panama that I haven’t been to (namely one of the indigenous areas that isn’t far from where I live). It was rough having to visit communities on the beach but not having the time to stay and play.

The title of this entry points to an interesting inner turmoil of which I’ve recently become aware. I feel quite adjusted to the culture and language. When I’m in my town, I don’t see myself as an outsider, everyone knows me, and I feel comfortable in their houses talking about whatever, interacting with the children, etc. I feel at this point I’ve earned the right to let the Panamanian side of me show. So I bought myself the typical “sombrero criollo” which is not the Panama Hat you’re probably picturing. It has black fibers woven into the braid. Hard to describe. Anyways, I felt happy and like I earned my hat, like I was really integrated into the culture to know that THIS is the real Panama hat (they say “sombrero de nosotros”-our hat). But as soon as I put it on in my regional capital, I got all these stares and comments that were particularly blatant. I’ve gotten used to a base level of unwanted attention, but this was awful! People were making me feel like an imposter! So in this case, I was being seen as one thing (an outsider) just at the moment where I was feeling proud of myself for being so integrated into the culture. Wearing the hat around my community has led to positive comments, people really like the hat and say it looks good on me. I actually don’t like the way I look in the hat, but I need the sun protection and it’s a great souvenir.

Interestingly, sort of the opposite situation has also happened to me in my travels this month. I will never claim I speak perfect or even excellent Spanish. I converse well, I have an accent, certain affects (e.g. adding “-ito” to lots of words even when it doesn’t make sense, like asking for a “librita”-little pound-of tomatoes) and a rhythm in my speech that is similar to that in the town where I live. However, I never think I’m fooling anyone into thinking I’m not from the United States or otherwise abroad. So there’s my imperfect Spanish and then there are my looks. I may be tanner than my German and French-Canadian heritage normally permits, but I am still particularly pink-toned. This is why people reacted so strongly to my wearing the Panama hat: it clashed with my appearance. This is why I often get approached by (in my opinion: rude and annoying) strangers saying “u-ni-ted stayte?” Etc. So imagine my surprise when the question was more neutral, “where are you from?” “so are you from the US as well as the volunteers you coordinate?” Like people were trying to figure out if I was from a different part of Panama. It’s true that certain areas in Panama have a higher concentration of more European looking people…but they speak perfect Spanish and it’s immediately clear that they are Panamanian (or Colombian or Costa Rican…people have also asked me that too). I have been asked if my eyes are contact lenses (I’m afraid to touch my eyes, trust me, no contact lenses). I’m flattered and surprised that people would think I am a compatriot. I have to laugh a little bit that sometimes I’m treated as an imposter or foreigner, and other times I have to correct people to assure them that I am also a Peace Corps volunteer from the United States. Obviously, I’m proud of myself for the latter situation. I have nothing more profound to say about the subject of identity and appearance. I’m just happy I can navigate through this country with ease, especially if given the chance to directly interact with someone to show them that I’m not a clueless (but loveable) tourist.

In February I start the arduous (but fun since it includes a few Panama City trips which means quality gelato, normal-size to-go coffee and my favorite 50-cents-an-item Chinese vegetarian restaurant) process of “closing service.” Yes, we are that close. I say “we” because even though I’m physically the one here, my family and friends’ support has been integral to my experience. I have no shame in having a countdown at this point…I am proud of myself that I will actually make it through all 27 months of the commitment! And I am not already mentally checked out. I still have work to do and will be doing it until I go (just the other day I started a compost pile with a new work partner in town).

Posting this today, February 5th, in the midst of this process. I'm processing all the accomplishments and "learning experiences" that have made up my experience...intense!

Burning Men Festival

2010-01-04T10:20:00.000-08:00

I suppose burning effigies as a celebration or ritual is a common thing the world over. I have no idea how I missed this last New Year’s, but Panama has quite a tradition. A few days before New Years, one starts noticing scarecrow-like stuffed clothes propped up against fences and electricity poles. They are made of a man’s clothes stuffed with raked up leaves (not maple or oak, but cashew fruit tree leaves). They look a lot like men just standing around from far off…I’ve been psyched out a few times. This is the theory: the muñeco (literally, doll) represents the past year. So burning it is a way of putting the past to rest, to start over. The men are lit on fire right at midnight (or ok, 11pm, kids get impatient). Poetic and especially dramatic when there are firecrackers (can be purchased for $1/long strand at, you guessed it, the bus terminal) mixed in with the leaves.

Other New Year’s traditions here are: decorating the table with big ring-shaped breads, grapes, apples and pears. I think you are supposed to stay up around the table playing dominoes and bingo until midnight, then eat these things. I read in the newspaper that some people eat 12 grapes right at midnight. They sometimes count the seeds and then those are their lottery or lucky numbers for the coming year. There are special stands outside of the supermarkets and, yup, in the bus terminal, that exclusively sell the New Years (also bought for Christmas) foods. The grocery stores are full of people who rarely leave their homes. Many are men buying very large quantities of alcohol…from beer to the traditional sugarcane liquor called Seco Herrerano, to rum (no national brand), to these extremely horrible liquors that are fruity and/or fizzy but just look so awful and artificial I can’t understand how anybody drinks them (they seem unnecessary given the other available options). Not to say that the USA tradition of getting super drunk for no reason other than a number on the calendar is all that classy. But seriously, “Riunite” brand of sparkling flavored wines (looks like Gatorade)? Nighttrain? Yuck. In any case, despite the alcohol, people definitely see New Years as a time to hang out with family. And I have not once heard comments of someone dreading this part of the holidays. There is NOTHING better to Panamanians than time spent with the family. So there’s a lesson for us jaded USA-ers. The children get into it because there are more cousins and playmates around, more sweets and special foods, lots of music, and the chance to stay up all night and set off firecrackers and fireworks for a few days. For my part, I fell asleep early and woke up to the noisemakers at about 11pm, but it wasn't too bad.

Another thing is "matanza." Yea...that means butchering. I guess it's customary as well to go all out on New Year's Day and slaughter an animal, if you have the means. Many people have chickens and prepare big pots of "arroz con pollo" which is a treat. But some of the more well-to-do families might invest in a pig or a cow slaughter. I'm not sure what the symbolism is, probably has to do with having plentiful food for the new year. But I guess it's just really practical to slaughter the animals you've been keeping all year when there's a lot of extra people visiting.

Also, I believe this marks the last holiday of my Peace Corps service I will have to endure far away from the familiar, pining for traditions of holidays at home (ok, maybe I’ll be sad to miss Valentine’s Day chocolates). I’m gettin’ there…

Riding Buses in Panama (21-12-09)

2009-12-25T13:13:00.000-08:00

Here’s another “what it’s like here” blog postings…trying to do more of these as I soak up my experiences and store them as proteins in my brain.

Short-distance regional buses are extremely convenient most of the year. I can’t believe there aren’t any of these in more rural areas in the States. I have no idea what I will do when I don’t have a car in Vermont and there aren’t any buses to take me to town. Anyways, this is not most of the year, and bus travel is extremely frustrating. But the reasons it is frustrating will give a nice window into how it’s so great most of the year…as my AP Bio teacher explained, “we will learn about the normal by studying the abnormal.” A few primers: the buses are owned by the drivers, I think, but they are regulated and belong to a company (maybe it’s a cooperative thing). There is a team of “ayudantes” (meaning helpers). Each ayudante works a specific bus or two, in a team with the driver. The ayudante loads and unloads your packages, looks and listens for cues that someone wants to get off and takes your money so the driver doesn’t need to be distracted. The prices are standard and printed, and the ayudante is generally good at knowing what a specific mid-route to mid-route fare is. Children and seniors get discounts, and if you carry a child or two or three on your lap or within your seat’s legroom, they go free. I’ve seen grown children (I’d say at least up to age 10) transported this way. You can bring livestock. I’ve seen chickens in sacks, puppies and kittens with their heads sticking out of sacks, and my own kitten was once allowed on in a cardboard box that she kept popping out of.

So today I walked up to the bus stop, planning to catch the 8am. It actually leaves from the main town in my district at a few minutes before the hour, depending on how many people are on it. Fuller means leaving earlier. The few minutes I spend brushing seeds and dirt off myself, finishing dressing and primping (one must look presentable getting on a bus; it’s a respect for the other passengers thing to not be sweaty and smelly when you are in their proximity) are always a bit of a suspenseful game. If there are others waiting, we inevitably begin the discussion. Which buses are running today? The little ones=groan and complaint about how they fill them up so much, the big ones=general happiness because they are almost never too full and they circulate air much better. The little ones are Toyota coasters, the big ones are repurposed school buses. Will it be really full today? If it’s on or around the 15^th or the end of the month, when people get paid, it will be fuller. If the seniors are getting their bonus checks, it’s going to be REALLY full. Why is it still not coming? This is the most suspenseful question. A little later than 8am could be good, because it means it was waiting a little longer to grab more passengers and so there aren’t too many people riding today. Too early and it’s going to be really full and possibly standing-room only. Today was the third option: much after 8am, because the bus had already stopped many times to pick up passengers and it was consequently too stuffed to pick me up. Generally speaking, there is a seat or standing room for me, but since it’s Christmas season, everybody is going to Santiago to receive and send packages, buy presents and food, etc. Other full times of the year: Easter and Mother’s Day. My next option is to stay at the top of the road for an hour, wait for the next bus. I never do that. I’ve learned some patience, but not much. I could wait half an hour for the bus passing in the opposite direction, and arrive in the starting town in time to secure myself a seat. I have never done that, but today I considered it. What I do do is walk 20 minutes to the Pan-American highway (yup, I’m that close. I’ve sometimes fantasized about packing a bag, grabbing the cat, and flagging down a ride and heading north through Costa Rica, Nicaragua, Guatemala and Mexico into the States…). I could wait for a cab or a ride (known as “bote,” like a boat), but the cab drivers drive a steep bargain for what is only a 20-minute walk. From there it’s generally easy to catch a bus serving a longer route heading to Santiago. Today I think I was out there in the hot sun for 40 minutes trying to get one to stop, but 4 passed by too full for passengers (we were quickly amassing by the side of the road…bad news because a bus driver can’t just let some on and there’s no queue of who was there first). Finally one stopped and I stood for the whole 30 minute trip. I arrived just as the 9am bus from my route was arriving.

The bus terminals in Latin America bring me great joy, normally. In our terminal, which is quite small, there are vendors of seasonal produce (right now: tangerines and pidgeonpeas), pirated music and DVDs (generally young guys with fashion tshirts, distressed jeans and gelled hair who mumble: “musicapeliculacomica”), shaved-ice-and-sugar-syrup treats from a cart (called raspado but pronounced ras-pow), newspaper vendors, an agricultural supply store, shoeshines, a butcher, 2 across-Panama courier services, a farmacy, 2 restaurants, several sundry/basic foodstuffs stores, a guy who walks around selling peppermint sticks and Panamanian candies (older guy who yells “pe-per-meeen-eh, man-hares, dulce de laaayche”), a bakery where things actually taste as good as they look because there is a constant demand and thus renewal of the supply, ATMs, lottery ticket sellers, clean bathrooms, and a random touchscreen thing that is supposed to help tourists. My favorite discovery back in my early days was that one can obtain ice cream in at least 5 of these establishments. A cone runs about 35 cents, a cup 40. The ice cream is nothing gourmet, and you have to know which flavors to say no to. The stores only keep one or two at scooping temperature, so you sometimes have to shop around so as not to get the rum raisin (heavy on the imitation rum) or orange-pineapple (it’s neon and gross). I have plenty more to opine on the ice cream, but that’s for another posting. The terminal around major holidays is mayhem. People who generally don’t leave their homes are suddenly all there, crowded and messing up the pedestrian flow. Little kids are running into me and my laptop bag, old people just suddenly stop mid-stride because they. (Syntax joke there…get it?) There are purchases and parcels creating a smaller lane to walk through. More people than usual are crowded to check out the lottery tickets on sale. It’s not joyful this time of year…it’s hot and stressful and makes me grumpy.

Now, after a day of errands in Santiago (though one clearly does not have to leave the terminal area to do most normal Panamanian errands…I have a different set of needs like wireless internet, the post office and a real supermarket), I have to plan when I arrive back at the terminal. On big bus days, I worry less, and can arrive fairly close to the hour and still have a seat. Today was a little bus day, so I knew I should get there at about 20 past the hour to make sure I could get a seat. Some days I’ve actually gotten there as the previous bus was leaving, on purpose, and staked out a claim on the next bus with a few others. It’s cutthroat. There are certain accepted practices, so getting there an hour early does not mean you have to sit on the bus for an hour until it leaves. Once your packages are stowed (just recently the ayudantes have taken to writing the package destination and number of packages directly on the bags, so now all my eco-friendly bags have marker stains…thanks guys), you can put something on a seat to save it and go get snacks. Sometimes people will sit, get up for one snack, return and eat snack, then get up for another snack for the road, etc. I’m sure I’ve done that, what with all the cold drinks and ice cream and fried green bananas and coffee. I never leave valuables, and today all I had were my water bottle and my eggs (never stow eggs, tomatoes or bananas…or anything else smashable). That would be enough to save a seat though. So I left those on an empty seat (for the first half of an hour the buses are just seats with stuff on them, very few human beings sit in the bus because it’s so hot and because there is so much to do in the terminal). Nowhere had ice cream. It was 2:30pm and probably the heavy flow of hot and crabby people had used up today’s supply by mid-morning. I went to the supermarket across the street, and luckily there were some single-serve sundae cups (much more expensive at 85 cents, but much higher quality ice cream with caramel…mmm). When I returned with my treat, all the seats were full! Including mine! The guy in my place totally had a guilty look in his eye, so I said, what happened, I had my water bottle and eggs right there. He hemmed and hawed about not knowing who they belonged to and how he thought they were for the next seat over (which only made sense because he moved them to the next seat over). But the ayudante, who knows me (they all do, I should really get a frequent rider card with 10^th ride free or something) came and used his power on the guy. I think the nosy señora across the aisle thought I was a rude “gringa” who should wait my turn, the way she kept staring at me. She tried to boss a lot of riders around, but I still felt her glare fixed on me especially. I was there first and had saved my spot in the accepted way, so I didn’t feel that bad. It was nice to have the ayudante step in to help me. I’m glad I always take the extra second to greet him and say some generic thing like, “oh there’s a lot of people today, huh?” Without fail, people who don’t live that far away from Santiago but who don’t have their own bus route will wait until a driver starts his engine, and then sardine-pack themselves into the bus, only to stop it 2 minutes outside of town, 3 minutes outside of town, 4 minutes outside of town, etc. So there are people leaning all over the seated passengers, the seated passengers get cramped, and the driver will continue to let people on despite our protests because each passenger means more money for him. That happens often with the little buses which have the obvious disadvantage of being little (fewer passengers fit in the seats). But generally my bus travel is much easier than today. I walk the ten minutes to the road, get on, sit for half an hour (music is generally too loud but I’ve gotten used to it and know most of the songs by heart), get off, do my stuff, return to the terminal, save my place, get ice cream, go back. Today made me appreciate how well this system normally works. And I did get where I needed to go and back home again, so how much can I complain, especially since there was time for ice cream.

my second and probably last vacation as PCV

2009-12-15T07:45:00.000-08:00

So I earn a ridiculous amount of vacation vs. a nomal job. Two days earned per month worked (mind you it is a 24/7 job). However, I'm lame and don't think I'll actually use up all the time I accrued...especially since I can't go on any more vacations during my last three months (mid-Jan-mid-April). Anyways, to help me with my little incapacity for taking "me time," my cousin Britta came for vacation!

One of the big advantages of Panama as a tourism destination is its small size and relatively well developed travel infrastructure. We were able to spend a full day inPanama City, where we explored the technical “old city” which is slowly being renovated, but for now is strikingly run-down with a few artsy cafes and restaurants interspersed. I had never seen this part of the city before. We decided to start walking back towards our hotel, which was across the city, essentially. The idea was to walk until we had seen enough of the pedestrian market near the Old City, then catch a taxi. I loved the market! It was another new experience for me in Panama, but reminded me quite a bit of the giant markets in Bolivia (but a much smaller and more navigable version). I located a big fabric store which sells all the fabrics that are used in the various traditional dress and costumes throughout this diverse country. I certainly plan to go back and pick up more before I go home. There aren’t many specific souvenirs or traditional crafts that one can bring back here, but the specific prints of fabrics do have meaning to someone who has lived here. I purchased a little bit of Veraguas-specific floral fabric and the same kind of fabric that the Kuna indigenous group uses for their headscarves. We kept walking through the city, not really intending to, but eventually landing at our hotel. All in all, it was about four miles of Panama City! And we were waking up at 4:30am the next morning to get on this plane:

We flew to the San Blas Archipelago (run by the Kuna indigenous group), which was very remote. In an unfortunate twist of events that we may never really understand, we were told that the island I had reserved us a cabin on was no longer open for tourism, that our options were seriously limited when it came to price (expensive or REALLY expensive), so we ended up somewhere where we were paying double what we had anticipated, and the food was not so good. We explained we didn’t mind eating fruit, yucca, fried plantains and fish, which is the local diet. However, we ended up with mounds of potatoes (which do NOT grow on or near these tropical islands) and sad seafood half the time, rice and decent fried fish the rest of the time. There is a weird idea in many tourist operations in this country that tourists come wanting to eat these specific “gourmet” things like lobster and mashed potatoes. Perhaps true sometimes, but it was strange that we couldn’t convince the proprietors to serve us something they obviously ate themselves. Literally, our guide showed us his house and his pile of harvested yucca. But, that was the price to be on amazingly deserted and beautiful beaches, to which we took a boat every day and on which we sat for many hours. There was even a little impromptu oceanside yoga session one day, led by yours truly...

I loved the boat rides, but definitely felt like I had little choice in what we were doing every day. We knew we were eating breakfast and then leaving at 9am for somewhere each morning, and returning in the late afternoon. A strange and not-Panamanian sense of time and schedule. Not every visitor has this experience, but that was ours. I would perhaps recommend going to these places during the tourist season, where more islands would be open and thus one would have more choice in where to stay. And definitely go with snacks, strong sunscreen (I’m still peeling!) and more cash than you think you need.

Once back on the mainland, we took a 7-hour bus ride to reach the western province of Chiriqui. Chiriqui is known for its high mountains and volcanic soil. It’s where the bulk of the export-quality coffee and oranges and vegetables are grown. We were actually at one point staying in a town where I could see the same vegetables that make it to the markets and supermarkets in my part of the country—I love that kind of thing. Sadly I didn’t really interact with the farmers. It was interesting to see the contrast in people’s standard of living. Even the indigenous farmers (identified by their style of dress) were living in cinder block houses, some had satellites on top! In my town, the latino farmers aren’t doing so badly, but they aren’t making much money off their rice crops, if any at all. The farmers in these mountains were definitely getting a cash inflow by selling vegetables. So once again I must lament that I haven’t been able to kickstart the vegetable production in my own town. My community is missing out on cash inflow as well as improved nutrition, and it is SO frustrating to see the obvious difference. The mountains suited me a bit more than the beach, probably because the cool air and altitude were a novelty.

We visited some wonderful hot springs, which marks the first time I sat in a tub of hot water since I was in the States last December! My cousin convinced me to ride a horse for the first time in my adult life. I was scared at first, but I got the hang of steering away from cars at least!

The experience was made more interesting by our horses’ personalities; they were a little confused about what their task was and were easily distracted by the yummy foliage at every turn. I suppose it was like my fascination with the fresh cool-weather vegetables, so I can’t blame them too much for eating everything. There was also a trip to a coffee processing plant, which was a nice mix of science, engineering and agriculture for me.

Between all the activities, there was a lot of bus riding and waiting for transportation to show up or taxi drivers decide whether they felt like taking us somewhere. It was pretty standard for me, but I could tell it was strange to Britta who is used to New York City’s fast pace and availability of goods and services. She was quite a good sport about things, and definitely got a feel for the Panamanian way of life. She was daring enough about eating Panamanian foods (which I actually had been craving after the islands!), and learned quickly how to order a papaya licuado sin azucar (basically blended papaya and ice, NO sugar). It was great to have her visit me and show her support in that way, and I enjoyed showing off how much I knew about Panama (for better or worse!). The two times I’ve had visitors, it’s made me appreciate Panama more for all its diversity and differences from the United States. Which is not to say that it doesn’t still frustrate me in many ways. I’m looking forward to going back to the States, but after this vacation I feel an even stronger need to be a sponge for all the Panama-ness I experience, positive or negative.

taking in my surroundings

2009-11-14T08:32:00.000-08:00

Lately I’ve really been conscious of how little time I have left in Panama. Therefore, I’m trying to spend as much time visiting people when I’m in my community, to soak up as much of the daily experiences that define my life here. So my blog may become a collection of these vignettes, since I’ve sort of moved from a project and accomplishment-focused existence to something more like being a part of this community.

Slingshots

The men who work the land around here, planting rice, corn, beans and having cows all carry a few things with them when they go out into the fields. Generally they bring water, a machete, and a woven bag called a chakara. I never really thought about what was in the bag, but the other day I was hanging out with one farmer (he likes to converse with me…I still don’t understand a lot of what he talks about because he gets going really fast in Spanish using new words and referring to things that I have no context for) and his brother comes up the road. He mentions there’s something in the tree (a hawk or other raptor) that kills chickens. Out of the chakara comes a slingshot and his ammo. I was delighted to see him use, in all seriousness, a slingshot to try to conquer the bird. The little boys often carry around slingshots, but I had never seen an adult use one. The young kids are pretty deft with them, knocking bats out of the banana palms and such. I’m not sure why this little tidbit makes me so happy, but I think it has something to do with elegantly simple technology that is still in use and is still being passed on to the younger generation. Call me romantic, but amidst constant reminders that this country is letting its youth forget its culture (encouraging it almost, for example: the emphasis they put on learning English to be able to be a part of the world economy…seriously, that’s Panama’s 20-year plan as far as I can tell, teach English phrases to kindergarteners), I like knowing that the slingshot is still in use.

October Update

2009-10-26T05:42:00.000-07:00

Hola!

In the past month (in which I have not updated my blog), I have been trying to fix my digital camera to take pictures to post here, which really is why I haven’t posted sooner. Anyways, I have been easing into my new Regional Leader role (maybe I haven’t announced here that I am taking on this leadership position, but here, officially, I’m announcing it). The former leader is still around so I have been learning the ropes from her, but starting mid-November and until I leave in April it’s going to be the Raquel show. The position is essentially three-fold: volunteer support, agency relations and new site identification and development. So I get to be somebody important to volunteers, to our local agencies (I have met our Provincial police chief!) and to the office/program directors. I’ve decided to take on this role while still living in my site (can’t get enough of that clean air and tranquility), which has meant a lot more time riding the bus to my provincial capital. I read a lot, but that’s wonderful. It’s nice to feel like I have a schedule some days, and the rest of my days I can hang out in my town and be okay with not having so many actual projects going on there. I have seen some new parts of my province, and will be exploring much more of it as I essentially cold-call/visit potential new volunteer communities. EEK! It’s a daunting prospect, but I know I’m capable of pulling it off.

I was also preparing heavily for the GRE’s, which I took on Saturday. As prepared as I was for the test, being in Panama was not to my advantage. I made sure I had a good night’s sleep, and arrived at the school an hour early, just in case I had the location wrong. This wouldn’t have been any big deal except that the proctor only arrived at 8:30, and it took another half hour for them to tell us to line up to register, then we waited over another hour for them to find a microphone system to be able to read us the rules and announce the time. So, we started 2 hours late because that’s how things work in this country. I can accept that generally, but in the case of a United States-administered test where a person’s future is (in part) on the line, I was expecting something better. Or was I? I did have a worry that something like that would happen…like they’d lose the test books or something. So instead of being done right at lunch time, the bulk of the test happened between 12 and 2pm, which are eating and siesta hours in my book. I’m concerned about my score, really, since I was not my fresh in mind, body or spirit when it came to the rapid-fire math questions, but what’s done is done and hopefully my other merits are much more important to any potential program. And no, I have no specific ideas, plans or timelines about grad school, I just thought this would be an advantageous situation in which to take the test because I could study and take it on paper…I guess my plot was foiled! The big kicker for me is that this sort of thing happens constantly, and there is no consequence for the school’s messing this up. It’s not like they get paid to do this, or are going to get fired or otherwise penalized. Hopefully my complaint and others’ to Educational Testing Services will prevent this from happening to other people (I also know that this is not an isolated incident, as a friend took her subject tests two weeks ago and similar things happened to her, including the proctor interrupting her during the test to ask how she was feeling, how she was doing with the test!).

So, those are the two major events that took up my time in the past month. November, as you may all remember from my first blog postings, is a fiesta month, because it’s Independence Day/Country Month. So I will take out my FILM camera and be snapping pictures because I know I will regret not having records of all this cultural activity. Maybe I will find a way to post the pictures.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road??

2009-09-30T08:18:00.000-07:00

A memory: when my brother and I were young, we would tell each other “why did the chicken cross the road?”-type jokes, but I quickly understood that I could not outsmart him using normal punchlines (i.e. to get to the other side). So I would make up ridiculous answers like “to get to the bench to go to the rainbow land with the pot of gold and then to Bart Simpson land.” I remember saying Bart Simpson land.

Why do I mention this? Not sure, maybe I miss my brother and our childhood. Maybe chickens are a major part of my landscape these days. But that line keeps popping up in my head as a parallel to the question: Why did Rachel join the Peace Corps? I might as well be that chicken who blindfolded herself, took a step onto the asphalt, and ran across propelled by the idea that there was something worthwhile on the other side. I was expecting: learning about tropical/Global South subsistence agriculture, sharing my knowledge to enrich people’s lives, sharing my culture and learning about another culture. As I come up on being in Panama for one year (Oct. 8^th is the official date, and if Peace Corps had kept their word as things had been when I transferred from Bolivia, I’d be going home that day), I have been forcing myself to think about what I have accomplished and what I have yet to accomplish. In a sense, I have done the aforementioned things. But not on the grand scale that I had envisioned. I had images of working with groups of people who would learn things from me (like doing worm composting or intensive inter-cropping) and put them into practice within their systems of home gardens or farms, all of us smiling and cooperating along the way. That definitely is not the case, and unfortunately not because it’s physically impossible, but because of some more invisible forces.

Last Friday, in my apparently vain attempt to hold the weekly nutrition/health class (nobody wanted to do it, for the nth week in a row), one person told me that I must be really bored here, with so little to do. In a way, I am, but I haven’t given up. Then she told me how I should have brought in an English language class or something, because agriculture and the “other things” I do are useless here. Or I should have gone somewhere else. Inwardly enraged, I tried to calmly explain for the millionth time to the millionth person here that I graduated from a good university (the BEST, GO BIG RED) with a degree in Plant Sciences, not Teaching English. I explained that it IS possible to do agriculture here, I’ve seen successful gardens in this very town. I didn’t even bother to explain to this person who just told me she couldn’t “do nutrition class” this week for ambiguous reasons that nutrition is in no way useless and maybe the most exigent item on my to-do list, based on what I feel is needed here. Children learning English is not on the list. Of course, the government here has convinced the population that English-speaking Panamanians make money…so all parents want is for their children to get into an English immersion school so they can make money. No matter if they are eating fried hot dogs and a bag of Cheetos for breakfast (that’s not an exaggeration).

What this woman was saying is nothing I haven’t heard or inferred from conversations before, but her accusatory manner, as if I had made the bad decision to come here and desire to do agriculture projects, is what hurt my feelings. This site was not my choice, though I suppose agriculture was and I stand by that choice. But the chicken crossed the road, and got what she got. That joke never says she didn’t like it so she went back, does it? Fortunately for me, I know I’m here for a defined amount of time. I can be miserable or not with what I got, but it will end one day. I’m trying to do things that will tip me to the not-miserable end of things, and sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. However, I have no intention of being bossed around or bullied into doing things I don’t believe in. I plan on fighting the good fight promoting nutrition and gardening for the next 6+ months, and then I will be done. I do think that there is value in finishing what I started, no matter how hard the days are. Thank goodness I’m stubborn like my late Pop-Pop! Then there will be no doubt in my mind that I fulfilled every promise I made to myself and to the Peace Corps. Furthermore, I think I’ll realize later on that a lot of good came from this experience, that I did learn a lot and possibly that I did have an impact on people here. (Side story: When we were in training in Bolivia, we heard a story of a community in rural India. A visitor there noticed that people there had exceptionally good teeth. When asked why, people said it was because in the 70’s, there was a Peace Corps volunteer in the area who always brushed his teeth, so they all started doing so. That volunteer may have never known what an impact he made). It’s just hard to always know what that good is while I’m here, hearing such negativity from people who should be thanking their lucky stars they have an expert (comparatively speaking) in agriculture who speaks Spanish and has only their best interests in mind living in their town for another six months. But even if I’m just a silly chicken on the other side of the road who will never be sure if this was the right choice, I’m glad to be pecking my way along, independent, scrappy and proud. And what separates me from the chicken is that I know one day I’ll go back across the road, changed in many ways.

My New Job!

2009-09-10T10:53:00.000-07:00

So I applied for and was accepted to become a part-time regional leader for my province! I am currently going through two days of training, and starting in November I will be taking on responsibilities like visiting volunteers and keeping up a positive and informed relationship with Panamanian government agencies (like the ministry of agriculture). Hooray for defined leadership experience, new challenges and going outside my comfort zone.

More updates soon.

abc of llano del padre

2009-09-08T06:54:00.000-07:00

Apologies for not posting. To reward you all for your patience, I have been working on a photo alphabet project. My digital camera has stopped working (wish I had one of those sweet shock-proof, waterproof, freezeproof ones right about now, though I don't think they're extreme-heat-proof), so I'm missing a few letters. The idea was to use words that were characteristic of life around my site, and to have the kids engage in the activity and thus be practicing their ABC's. It was fun, and actually hard to get the kids to stop. They would run up to anything, name it, say what it began with, and pose. So here goes, hope you learn some new words!

ABC slideshow on Picasa

vecinas

2009-08-07T08:14:00.000-07:00

one of these is cuter than the other...

Vecino/a: (bay-see-no/na). Neighbor. Though in my case also means friend, and occasional serious favor-doer.

A few months ago on a drizzly and dark night, I got bitten in the spine by a very large wasp. They call it a "congaluna" here. In any case, I thought nothing of it for about 10 minutes, except that WOW it hurts to get a wasp sting there (I'm much more careful about standing under lightbulbs at night now). Then I started itching seemingly uncontrollably in my armpits, knees, and groin. Then I looked at my back and noticed it was all red. Then I couldn't stop itching my major articulations, and I saw that I was breaking out in raised bumps in all of them. Then the itching and breaking out started crawling up my neck, and soon I was worried my throat was going to close up. I could feel the swelling in my ears, it seemed. I was also, stupidly, without any credit on my prepaid cell phone, meaning I could not contact Peace Corps or any other emergency services. My option was to find someone who could do that, but it wasn't necessarily going to happen. I walked through the mud, trying to reach my host family's house (not a short distance). I turned back, and although I didn't want to disturb my neighbor, I had little choice other than waiting to see whether I was going to stop breathing or get better. So I knocked, and shouted it was me. Well, my neighbor didn't have any phone credit, but she ran off to the next house over, to her mother, who luckily did. And didn't think twice about calling Peace Corps for me, even though that meant they wouldn't have phone credit. They spent almost all their credit calling Peace Corps, my host family, and later, the ambulance from the nearby town. I was actually fine, I knew that even before I got to the hospital in nearby Santiago. But having my neighbor there to help me kept me from panicking, that's for sure.

This neighbor and I hang out a good amount, just talking and watching her baby (15 month old girl) grow up. I do consider her one of my best friends here. She's always willing to do things like fill up my bucket with water from her much larger tank, when we are all suffering from drought and she has 4 bodies to bathe and cook for, versus my one. I try to make it up to her by lending her a few dollars every now and then (I was uncomfortable about it at first, but she always pays me back as soon as she gets her child support money) or picking up some things for her when I go to the store (again, she always pays me back, there's no free money here).

So last night, when I was making banana bread and my gas tank finally went out mid-bake (4 months on one tank, I think it's a record in my town!), I was grateful that her mom is the only other person in town with a working oven and, luckily, a full gas tank. She didn't hesitate to let me into the kitchen so I could finish the baking. Of course, she got a nice hunk of bread. I hate feeling like that's not an equivalent favor (sweets for much more precious gas), but these people really understand giving and what it is to be a good neighbor. Giving is not about getting...it's about filling someone else's need, when you can. I know this is a fairly common theme with me and in this blog, but it always bears repeating, as I am reminded of it in powerful ways every day. There is always something you can give. In the USA, we tend not to be sought out for favors in the same way. However, that doesn't mean we shouldn't seek out opportunities to give, right?

a hundred trees, yes please!!

2009-07-12T13:25:00.000-07:00

So of late I’ve been working on two things, mostly. First is the exercise and nutrition class that has not been working out so much. I had 3 weeks in which I had seriously good attendance, and the women who came were totally into it. The following week only one woman came. Then the past two weeks NOBODY came. Once because it was raining, then this last time I don’t know why. It’s really hard for me to think that this maybe won’t work out. I know I’m capable of giving this class, I’m full of good ideas, and think that if the women would really make the effort to go, they’d get a lot out of it and enjoy the time they take for themselves. But…they just don’t go, and always give reasons that to me seem, well, stupid. I haven’t resolved how I will deal with this, whether I keep trying to get people to show up, or to forget about it. Probably the first option, though it’s so frustrating to feel like I’m forcing people to go to “my” class, when I started the class based on a need I observed and which was expressed by many people. It’s their class, for them, but I think they see it as they’re doing me the favor of showing up. Should not be like that.

On the other hand, we planted around 100 trees in my community yesterday! This is a major success for me. Here’s how it went. Early June, as you readers may remember, I made a list of things I wanted to get done. Out of that, I decided the trees were very important and not too big of a task to take on. I invited many people, and ended up with a small group of (generally speaking) hard workers, and we decided we could put in the effort to dig holes in the open area around the chapel, and I would get tree seedlings from the Environmental Authority’s extension in the nearby town. It’s too late to raise the seedlings to be planted this year. I gave up the idea of making people commit to a tree nursery to be able to participate, but those who have been participating in the effort actually want to do tree nurseries so we don’t have to wait on trees from the Environmental Authority. So that is actually something we can work on near creeks in the dry season! The Environmental Authority had two types of trees, both can be raised for their valuable wood, but trees are trees and they still do all the important soil-protecting, air-purifying, shade-giving activities before they are cut down in 20 years. For those interested in trees, they are known here as Caoba Nacional (Swietenia macrophylla) and Roble (Tabebuia pentaphylla), the latter being very similar to oak. It’s good to use wood production trees because people see their value. Plus, they always can collect the seeds and raise more. That’s what I love about trees, they are disposed to reproduction, if you just leave them be or put in a small amount of effort, the returns are great. Not like those dumb vegetables which suck up nutrients and still ask for more. Grrr. But I digress.

Our original goal was to plant 50 trees, but digging holes was surprisingly easy. We did it in 30 minute sessions so people wouldn’t balk at the idea of going to a second work session, and were at our goal after just 3 sessions. So then the agent who had the trees said it would be fine to bring even more trees (we ended up with around 100). So we dug more holes, and set the date for planting. It went very smoothly, since the holes were already dug. One of the group members/diggers has been absent for the last week dealing with an illness in the family, so she had a real excuse to not be here planting. However, the very morning that we had agreed to plant, I went to get one of the other planters’ houses and she said she couldn’t because she had to walk with her old mother to the house farther out of town. That is one of those excuses that makes no sense to me, it just sounds like she didn’t feel like doing the work. I’m allowed to believe that it’s a stupid excuse because her mother has been hanging around the house for several weeks and I reminded her yesterday afternoon about the planting, and then all of a sudden she has this extremely important task of delivering her mother to the other house. Despite being down 2 of 5 adult workers, the environmental group came in the truck along with the trees from the nearby town, and we had the help of my host brothers/cousins. We planted all the trees in under an hour! So my overall feeling is good, but I am always left amazed by how I can get lied to and stupid-excused to by people who claim they really want something to happen. Worse, I can’t help but anticipate that those who didn’t show up (I had invited more than 4 people to be a part of this effort, but they never actually came to anything) will have some sort of issue with the way it was done. You can’t not show up and then complain. Well, here you can.

Still, overall I’m very happy there are trees here that weren’t before, that my faithful helpers went home with 4 valuable seedlings each, and that trees may become a constant project for me here, now that we have gotten off to a good start.

Other news, my friend’s park project that I advertised in June got very quickly funded after that blog post. I therefore believe many of you contributed, and assure you that it is now in its beginning stages. I’ll keep you posted, but for now I want to thank you for contributing, all who did. It means a lot to be supported by people back home.

Digging holes on the llano (plain, field)

arrival of the trees (this is my host mother)

Angie and Gordo (who is not fat, so the nickname is a joke)

Alfredo and Carlitos

Carlitos and Alfredo (this is my favorite pic of the day)

Cochina Cochina

2009-06-27T08:27:00.000-07:00

Cochino/a (ko-chee-no/a): very dirty, ragged, unkempt sort of a lower-class/skankyness connotation; like, if a kid plays in the mud then tries to grab a tortilla off someone’s plate, you yell at them for being cochino/a. The goal, often hard to achieve in ridiculous heat/weather conditions, is to stay kempt and un-cochina…

However, I am a bit cochina, though I’m the only one who sees it: my underwear no longer fits because the hand washing stretches it out, and most are starting to get holes, but I’m not throwing them away because as far as I know I won’t easily be able to replace them (there’s no Victoria’s Secret here…and the other clothing stores, I’ve found out, won’t let you try underwear on and I tend to be a XXXL in all the other clothes they carry).

This is not a plea for packages of underwear, just thought you’d all enjoy a vocab lesson combined with a little update on my status. That is to say, I’ve been away a really long time, but it took me until I saw my holey undies to realize it. 10 months until I go SHOPPING for new ones and probably have a heart attack from the price.

2009-06-15T12:35:00.000-07:00

I have to explain my birthday out of order because that's how the pictures uploaded. All in all a great day, I had two volunteer friends hanging out with me in my site, and this is what we did.

Took my host brothers and their cousins swimming in the river. It was still kind of low because the rains haven't been every day (biiig problem since all the crops are just coming up), but it was swimmable. That's me in the center swimming with my 11-year old host brother.

Piñata candy collection, from the piñata I provided for the kids.
Left: my friend Glenda (since the first day of pre-departure staging for Bolivia in Washington, D.C., to Bolivia, and now in Panama); center, little Veronica almost hits Miguelin in the head while trying to get the piñata with her eyes closed (Miguelin had spotted a stray candy on the ground).
Me and the coconut-rum cake with guava filling and whipped cream icing and 24 candles.
Me and piñata. Yes, I've lost weight and am very happy about it.

In other news besides getting older, the women's health class I've started is going well, last week I tried to teach an aerobics/dance routine to a Janet Jackson song, that didn't really work but the women had fun. More on that soon.

Thanks always for the support, and thanks for all the recent birthday wishes!

major update-ation

2009-06-04T08:34:00.000-07:00

i know this is a lot people, but i don't know either way if you read it or not so i'm putting it up here in case you are interested.

The last part of vacation

Well, Theodore and I made it through Nicaragua without a hitch, until the last night getting to Managua, when our shuttle SUV sort of broke down and the driver did a typical move where he refused to get help in the very nearby Granada, and instead had another car sent all the way from the town where we started. So we got stuck on a dark highway for an hour plus. Oh and I got a sting ray sting in the ocean, which hurt a LOT, but I’m oddly proud of the story.

The next day, we got to Panama City, got our temperatures read by a camera (infrared, I guess) because of the H1N1 hysteria (that is what it is), and a few hours later met Mom and Dad, who’d gotten up at 3:30am to make their flight. Of course, you couldn’t tell that Mom was tired, but Dad was dragging a little. Not ideal for driving around Panama City, but at least we had a misinformed GPS lady ordering us to turn where one can’t turn, stay left when she means stay on the same road, etc. We made it to the Panama Canal just before they were closing the doors, phew! Dad finally realized where he was, and made a beeline for the observation area. Nothing like feats of engineering and giant machines to wake him up.

The rest of the week went something like this. Mom saying her version of “gracias” (pronounced grat-see-ay in her book) any time someone Spanish-speaking got within 3 feet of her. Dad mumbling “bueno” or “gracias” with less frequency than Mom and otherwise grinning and looking at the scenery. Theodore getting attacked by bugs (they ALWAYS go for the ones who are most bothered by it, it’s a rule). Me freaking out because things aren’t as perfect as I’d imagined, despite the fact that the rest of the family is assuring me they’re having a good time. Discovering that rice and beans is always better than pizza in rural Panama. Somehow managing to navigate cities and rural areas of Panama without getting in a serious car crash, despite the GPS lady’s intentions to kill us by driving us into construction. Being at my site for the height of ant mating season, when all the ants fly in massive quantities, attracted to light (the two nights we ate dinner in my site it wasworse than I’d ever experienced, normally the bugs aren’t that bad at night).

Looking back on it, it was a very good time, regardless of how stressed I was with needing to be a part of most interactions and activities because of the language barrier. I was so concerned with making things perfect that the above picture is ALL that I took on my digital for the days my family was here. I'm kicking myself. The big highlight was being with my family. It sounds corny, but it’s true! I couldn’t do this Peace Corps thing without the support of my family (I’ve heard stories of volunteers whose families think this job is irresponsible or worse; I couldn’t handle that), and the fact that they came out to see what it’s like was the ultimate show of support. I was just so glad to be able to experience our family dynamic, give and get hugs, roll my eyes, and give an insider’s perspective of the “interior” of Panama.

Garden and weather update

It FINALLY started raining for real for real. It did the day before I left for vacation, and I figured that was the start of it. But upon my return, I learned it hadn’t done so

again until the day before. So almost 2 more weeks without rain! I guess I took my vacation at the right time, because that might have been it for me and this darn weather. But since I’ve been back, it’s rained each afternoon or night, and well.

Sometimes there’s really scary lightning and thunder, so it’s good I can snuggle up to the princess cat who does not like to get her paws wet. She seems to think I have some control over the weather, because when she wants to go out (at any hour of the night) and it happens to be raining, it’s a big ol’ whine fest. When it’s not raining, it’s sunny and humid. I don’t think it feels as bad as sunny and dry, even though it maybe feels hotter because your sweat doesn’t have anywhere to evaporate to.

Despite no rain while I was gone, my neighbor managed to keep my plants alive! I told her I’d pay her (and did), so that was probably some incentive. She may have one of the greener thumbs in town, but we never knew it before because she doesn’t keep a garden. But maybe we can do a raised bed for some basics, because she likes vegetables, but is very occupied with the 1-year old. So my zucchini is flowering (2 female flowers that haven’t quite opened), the broccoli, basil and (volunteer) peppers are holding on, I transplanted some tomatoes, and the lettuce is growing, though spindly and slow due to the heavy shade I have it under. It’s that or it gets burned up by the sun. So…still not eating veggies out of my garden, but I am more hopeful than before that they’re going to give me food. I had also planted pigeon peas and Jamaica Flower (sorrel, Hibiscus sabdariffa, used to make a delicious tea or punch with sugar, ginger and/or cinnamon and/or cloves…but it takes until Christmas to mature) back in the beginning of April. Both germinated, which is great because I now have Panamanian plants in my yard. I know why they call them pigeon peas now…the pigeons like to dig up the seeds and eat them! The papayas are growing, two guanábana (soursop) seeds have germinated, and I’ve been burying mango and avocado pits, but so far nothing has come up. I’m going to run out of planting space soon…but I want to get some banana and plantain palms planted too!

Check out this contrast. I took the top photo right before leaving on vacation, beginning of May. After just a month, not all of which was rainy, the bottom photo shows how things have greened up significantly.

And check out those giant zucchini leaves!

Projects planned update

Last week we had our trimesterly meeting, part of which is turning in a report about our activities, both completed and planned. Even though I had many lines filled out on my completed list, I don’t feel satisfied with those activities. I’m not satisfied because these aren’t so much agriculture or food-security-related activities, which is what I joined Peace Corps to do. I know, I’m hard on myself and had a major obstacle (drought!), but I need to get real about why I came and what I want to have accomplished when I’m done (less than a year left, incredibly). So, I’ve decided on a few main foci for the next few months. Briefly listed they are:

-weekly nutrition/fitness/self-esteem/”women’s issues” class with whatever women are interested (it may just be a few, but that’s okay with me)

-reforestation. Now that it’s raining, there’s no good excuse (many bad ones, however) to not start tree nurseries and plant trees. I have found a source of trees, my district’s branch of the National Authority of the Environment. Now how to coordinate the planting. I also want those who receive a tree donation to commit to having a tree nursery on their property, though that’s a long-term vision because the trees we start now will have to be nursed through the dry season and planted after I’m gone. But, if the nurseries are located near creeks, I think this is reasonable. People do grasp the necessity to plant trees, so I think my job can be getting them from knowing what should be done to taking action.

-green manures and worm compost. I would like to get at least a worm compost bin completed at my host family’s house. Knowing my host mom, she’ll name the worms and treat them with the same love she treats all other living things. I can think of a few other households that have a good chance at taking care of the worms, but doing worms does take some setup and time investment and I haven’t located a source for the specific compost worm species.

-more veggie gardens!

I turn 24 next week…I suppose events actually have progressed rapidly when I remember that my last birthday I had been in my Bolivia site for just a little over a month, and I spent my birthday morning on my hotel bed in Santa Cruz opening numerous packages from family (…seeing as the Bolivian mail system was trustworthy enough that I actually received them) and hanging out with baby Dracula. This year, maybe I’ll go swimming in our river or bake cookies or a cake to share with mi gente (my people) or go see a movie in Santiago (are there any good ones out that will reach here?) with some other area volunteers, but I’m not counting on the mail, sadly, and seeing my family last month was really the present I wanted more than anything. What I can say with quite a degree of certainty is…I’ll be home next birthday, to turn a cuada (the Panamanianization of the word for a quarter dollar) century!

Help a cause!

2009-06-03T09:12:00.000-07:00

What's this a picture of??? How can YOU get involved in what's going on here?

Keep reading...

I´m finally making new friends in my region! I feel like each time I´ve made a friend nearby they´ve left suddenly. Am I cursed? Anyways, I was out helping my closest neighbor (was my second-closest until my first-closest left...) with painting a world map in the school. ...

(my friend and a community helper painting the map...pretty nice right?)

...and learned he´s also looking to renovate the town park, but only has 4 months left and is still waiting on funding. This is the type of project where the community puts up about half the funding and then Peace Corps puts a description of the project on their website and anyone can donate funds. I know economic times are tight for most of my readership, but consider donating to this project, I´ve seen the community and I think it´s a worthy donation (plus I don´t forsee myself requesting monetary donations for my community, so if you want an easy way to help out a Panama volunteer, don´t hesitate!). And if the community in Panama managed to come up with 47 percent...consider why the rest of the world can´t manage to get the other 53% donated. There are plenty of projects worldwide you can donate to in this way, but here´s the website for my friend´s project.
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=525-111

The community members are fairly well organized and they have a self-proclaimed group of ¨nature lovers¨who volunteer with the National Authority for the Environment, making the community a more eco-friendly place. So, I think they´re deserving of a park beautification project.

Thanks for your support!

Granada

2009-05-12T16:14:00.000-07:00

Theodore arrived, we don´t have any pictures of us together yet, but it´s been nice having someone else around. Someone who tells me it´s ok to eat at ¨expensive¨(like, 8 dollars vs. 5) restaurants, and someone to talk to and play cards with. I´ve been doing a good enough job keeping him healthy, it seems. We were in Granada for Sunday and Monday. It is another city full of churches and colonial architechture, but it´s different than Leon in the sense that things were pricier (seemed to be a slightly older, wealthier type of tourist and ex-pat residents) and there were more beggars everywhere. Theodore picked up some important safety tips (ducking into stores when being followed) and ¨no, gracias¨(no thanks) very quickly. Granada is also cool because it is on the big Lake Nicaragua-aka-Cocibolca. 10th largest in the world, 2nd largest in Latin America (is Titicaca the first? I can´t remember). It has something called Las Isletas, a group of 365 generally very small islands, which have cool wildlife, some are inhabited by communities Nicaraguans, some are privately owned by wealthy foreigners. I took a nice 2.5 hour tour around some of them. Very fun.

A Nicaraguan who lives in the islands. Mostly these people are fishermen or women as a trade, but they are quite poor. An interesting contrast between their small houses and the mansions on neighboring islands. This man was kind enough to show us his catch (the bottom of the canoe was full of live-but-soon-to-be-dead fish). Now, these people are not an indigenous tribe, they speak Spanish, and supposedly have been on the islands for about 200 years (so like, way after the Spanish came). But my tour guide kept saying they were ¨natives.¨ It´s like calling me a native in the United States...Seemed a bit diminuitive or racist to me.

This is a picture of me watching out for pirate ships from the fort on the lookout island (which I hear is not so preposterous to do these days).
Monkey on monkey island. They´re not native, but someone put 4 monkeys there just ´cause. And they were awesome.
When our boat got stuck in the grassy plants. The plants re-aggregate fast, since boats travel through here at least 2 times a day, and yet we had to wait for a more powerful boat to push a path through. Nature wins!
Cool church. Looks a lot like the León cathedral, no?

Masaya, days 3 and 4

2009-05-09T15:15:00.000-07:00

Masaya has been a less interesting than I´d expected. I guess since the guidebooks came out touting it as the place where hammocks are made and can be bought, it has become the place where tourists go to get ripped off for souvenirs. I´ve had a sort of identity crisis, because in Nicaragua I am a tourist, but I try to be a different kind, one who gets to know the people and care about them. So I thought it would be easy to go visit artisans´workshops to see the handicrafts being made, but I couldn´t really find them my first day. So I went to the very touristy old market, as it´s called, and bought a nice hammock (family size, for that husband and kids I have...it´s the only size that seems worth the money though) and a hanging hammock-weave chair. I´ll post pix of those then I have them hung up in site. Sidenote: I miss my site, knowing people, cooking for myself (this town has very little for a vegetarian to eat, but the fruit´s just fine), Mona, etc. But to ease my pain of being a tourist, I struck up a conversation with the guy who sold to me (I´ve been trying to do this as much as possible, in taxis, etc., as much to prove to them that I´m not the ordinary limited-vocabulary tourist, and also because I feel like becoming a human to people makes them less likely to try to rip me off or worse). He was a nice guy, I ended up paying 50 bucks for both items, which I is a price I´m not embarrassed about. My strategy is always go for the guys who could be my great uncle or something. That age range. And must be pudgy, preferably with glasses, wearing a polo shirt or something with sleeves.

For the second day, I decided to go where I always enjoy, because I´d felt pretty crummy about Masaya in general (except for a decent burrito for dinner). What do I always enjoy? Farmers´markets, and nature. So I´d read in the Lonely Planet that there´s a second market at the bus terminal (which I needed to locate anyways), and since nothing was open for breakfast yet, I headed over there. And breathed a sigh of relief, and then almost vomited over my 50 cent bag of watermelon chunks because I was near the butchers section which invariably smells more than it should, in any meat market in Latin America. But that market is significantly more real. They have the tourist stuff there, but just being among people going about business as usual made me feel better. I´ll be re-stocking my snack fruit supply tomorrow morning before going to pick Theodore up at the airport. Then I went to nature. An entirely DIFFERENT kind of nature than the usual rain forests and rivers, however.

That´s sulfury smelling smoke, not dust, behind me.

Behold, the Parque Nacional Volcán Masaya...or, Masaya Volcano National Park. It´s the country´s only active volcano, not that it´s shooting out lava, but it´s definitely smoking. It´s cool to see, and the visitors center has an exhausting exhibit about what volcanoes are. I took some pictures at the top, it´s now the second volcanic crater I´ve seen up close (first being Haleakala on Maui, which was better, actually). I met a Spanish guy when he was trying to take a self portrait, and offered to take his picture FOR him, and then he took mine for me. So you must thank Roberto for that picture. Then we walked all the way down the crater together. I wanted to go alone, but the park rangers stalk you and sort of matched us up and kept calling us ¨la pareja¨ (the couple) as they were radioing our whereabouts. But he was nice enough, and I was surprised we understood each others´Spanish. Though he corrected my vocab a few times, which is funny because it´s like a British person correcting my American vocabulary. Neither is wrong. Anyways, I suppose I was glad to use my vocal cords for something other than a monetary transaction.Some priest put up a Cross there because the thought was that the Devil lives down there. But since there´s a cross, it´s ok, it´s now a Catholic volcano and the Devil won´t want to come up (i.e. erupt). Though it did in 2001, a little bit.

Good precautions.

Leon day 2

2009-05-08T05:42:00.000-07:00

Sweet Leon Murals:

The writing on the right translates to: Nicaragua will be free while she has sons that love her.

What I did on my second day in Leon:

I had 2 fruit juices.

I bought fruit in the market.

I ate tofu.

I walked and got lost and realized my Lonely Planet map is actually all wrong and it´s not just I have a sudden inability to orient myself.

I swam in the pool.

I tried (one bottle of) the Nicaraguan beer Toña. It was ok, nothing to make me want to drink more.

I also got to talk to 2 mothers who lost their sons in the conflicts and revolution a few decades ago. Here in Leon there is a memorial set up with pictures of many fallen heroes (several women actually!), but the coolest part is that at the memorial, there´s always mothers or other people who were there when it all happened. So I sat and asked to hear their stories. I don´t know the history very well and a lot flew over my head because they just sort of talked in a flow of consciousness, but what I did pick up was very interesting. Most striking to me was how these women sort of heard their sons had died, but wanted to go get their bodies but were often prevented. But still, they felt they needed to identify the bodies so they figured out ways to do it. THey also just talked about that time in general, when Leon was bombed and everyone was still in town and they just hid where they could. And one was telling me how she was escaping somewhere and had to trick a guard, but then he gave her food for the kids she had lied to say she had to go take care of. One kept saying how it´s true about the motto: ¨Patria libre o muerte¨ free country or death. These young people (one of the sons was 13) realized they would probably die but kept trying and joining the cause until they completed it. One made it clear that her 2 sons joined voluntarily, and she knew she couldn´t stop them. Admirable (the sons and the mother), if you ask me. Then we started talking about modern politics and how even today they feel that there is tension between the Sandinistas (the party that overthrew the dictatorship) and other political parties. I was grateful to get that opportunity, and also grateful that I´ve never lived through that sort of trauma. Amazing how many people in the world could tell such stories.

Headed to Masaya, the heartland of folklore and handicrafts.

SIKE! I can post pictures!

2009-05-07T09:55:00.000-07:00

Fruit! Lots and cheap!

Sandino, General of Free Men

Bell on the Cathedral...just caught my eye

One of many such mango stands. All day, they peel and cut mangoes to be sold in baggies. Nicaraguans seem to value fruit much more than Panamanians, but that´s just one person´s impression. And yes, I asked permission before taking this picture.

This doesn´t really show how big it is...but it´s massive.

Leon (half) day 1

2009-05-07T05:16:00.000-07:00

Couldn´t get these computers to recognize my camera, so you´ll have to hold off for pictures a little while longer.

After checking into my sweet hostel (REAL beds, for starters), I decided to see what I could see in Leon. I had mostly one place in mind for the afternoon, La Fundacion Ortiz, which is a large collection of art, much of it from Latin America. I had neither properly studied my map nor pointed myself in the four directions of the compass, so I started off going the opposite way, and kept trying to correct myself and doing a poor job. Luckily, the central part of Leon isn´t big, dangerous, or scary. Just confusing until you realize it´s very simple: all the streets are numbered and directioned (like Washington, DC) and the East-Wests are Calles and the North-Souths are Avenidas. Or is it the other way around. However, getting lost was a good way for me to run into like a million churches. I found the cathedral, according to my guidebook the biggest in Latin America, took over 100 years to build, and not at all hard to find, though I wasn´t looking for it. Unfortunately now it´s pretty dirty on the outside and needs renovation, but it´s still extremely impressive. Today I plan to go inside it, but yesterday my thoughts were on seeing other things. There´s a large central square in front of the cathedral, cool to see guys kicking a ball around, vendors with food and random brightly colored plastic toys and knick-kncacks, and people strolling. Since this town houses a university (or a few, not sure), it´s very young and there´s a lot of teenagers with books and art supplies (I think there´s an art university or something like that). In Santiago there isn´t a central square, so being here I felt that I was really in a Latin American city again. So much going on! Another thing I like about Leon: minimal harrassment. People are generally smiley, friendly, but not imposing, just going about their own business. Must be they´re used to lots of foreign tourists, and have learned how they like to be treated (i.e. left alone!). I bought a large green guava for 7 Cordobas (less than 50 cents), and it was tasty, but I prefer ripe ones, so I guess I´ll buy more and ripen them up. In Panama they also eat them just green, I don´t know why. I´d overdosed on mangoes the day before I left Panama, so I avoided fruit mostly yesterday. But today´s going to be a different story. So many types of mangoes and avocadoes to choose from! Also a brown fruit that looks like a bit like a spherical potato, I must find out what that is and how you eat it.

Finally found the art museum, but by that point I was indeed tired and my legs hurt and so I sort of rushed through the large collection. I was the only one there, maybe because it was later in the afternoon, and the security guys sort of distracted me by turning on lights in front of me and then shutting them off after me. Felt like I was being followed...because I was! Lots of cool stuff, but honestly I don´t know what to look at in art. I prefered the more modern Latin stuff over the European oils (mostly religious art which I definitely need someone to explain to me since it´s so full of symbols). Had a nice big salad for dinner. Nothing I couldn´t make myself, but nice to not have to. That´s what vacation is about right?

Slept very well on a very good mattress, though I´m still getting used to dorm-style hostels. Being a light sleeper is tough when people come in and rustle through their stuff and whisper and flick on and on their flashlights, but I don´t mind it overall (at least here there´s courtesy rules and quiet hours after 11pm). Of course, woke up at 5:30 am with no hope of sleeping again, but thinking about the time change, it´s as if I slept in until 6:30 in Panama, so that´s a good thing. Ahhh all of vacation is a good thing.

landed!

2009-05-06T14:33:00.000-07:00

safely in Nicaragua. First impressions: definitely less expensive than Panama, but equally as hot (just endured direct sun in a very hot van for an hour). Also, horse-drawn carts and men carrying giant bundles of I dunno what that covered their heads. They must be able to see through the bundles...

Managua seemed too run-down to be worth exploring, so I headed straight to Leon to enjoy the artsy funky capital of the revolution.

Just wanted to say I was safe and plan to be posting often during my travels. We´ll see if i can get photos up.

2009-04-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to highlight this weather page for santiago (my closest city). look at the ¨feels like¨section. I think it´s very accurate...also note that when it´s raining in Santiago, it isn´t necessarily doing so in my town. If the wind is blowing from the north, it´s probably not raining...
the hottest place i´ve ever lived

This is SO frustrating! I was saying to my mom-slash-spiritual guru that this may be the hardest thing I´ve ever done. Not Peace Corps, but specifically dealing with four months of drought, heat, and wind.

Probably won´t post again till after my rapidly-approaching vacation (I know I´ve been remiss but I am convinced that only my family and a few close friends read this...that counter is whack), but then it MUST be raining so I MUST be doing activities, plus I´ll have vacation pictures to post.

new additions

2009-04-24T09:12:00.000-07:00

Meet....

Paco ("it's just a name")

Esmeralda (who is not green, as the name Emerald might suggest)

April showers...bring May veggies, we hope

2009-04-03T06:56:00.000-07:00

It RAINED! Once on March 28^th, another time on Marth 31^st,. I still have that leak in my roof, but now I have precious books I must be sure to protect. And I believe it will keep raining, but I may be too optimistic, though other people seem to have taken these first rains as a green light to be celebrate. April is when one plants around here, so I’m following suit. If it doesn’t rain, I think I can water from the tap enough until it really does rain all the time, since my community finally had a meeting to decide who would go every day to close and open the water tank so everyone can have water for a little while every day. Only took 3 months of drought for that to happen. So I’m living a bit easier these days, being able to bathe and drink water enough to combat the heat. I didn’t realize how crabby and bothered I’d been until I wasn’t any more. I feel more energized and very happy these days. I think it’s a combination of the impending rainy season (and thus agricultural activities), bathing and drinking water, and generally feeling like I’ve hit my stride with my community. I’m spending lots of time hanging out with people and reading with the kids -they start school April 13th, finally- and working a bit too.

We finished another stove recently. I didn’t want to put up a picture until it was truly finished, with a chimney. This one was much harder to make, since it was bigger (space for two pots) and it was just me and the younger woman in the picture doing all the work. I think start to finish it took us 2 weeks, but maybe it was like 4 or 5 days that we worked. But the good part is that the woman we built it for (older woman in picture, the mother), really wants it and is psyched to use it. She’s mostly excited to have the smoke go out a chimney, and as someone who sits in that kitchen an awful lot, that´s probably what I´m most excited about too. Hopefully if we do more of these we’ve learned to invite people to help work, because mixing and pounding the mud is a lot of hard work for just 2 people.

In the process of making a tin can chimney. I cut myself, but luckily nobody else did.

Completed! Next to the old open-flame stove which we will smash in a few weeks.

Notice the two places for pots, and the completed chimney. Out front is where the wood goes in...we were experimenting to see where the smoke came out and where we needed to make a better seal so it would go out the chimney and not escape from under the pots. My friend Nik was really excited about this stove design and how it´s all about thermodynamics and stuff. I think my dad was pretty into it too, for the same reason.

I´ve been working a lot with this woman the past few month, we´re about to incorporate compost that we ripened this dry season into her raised beds, along with charcoal we´ve been trying to make..with limited success. We also did a little seed starting this week, inspired by the rain.

And now, for some of my own agricultural activities

Mona thinks I´ve been making her lots of new playgrounds lately...it will be a miracle if anything I direct seeded comes up where I put it. This is the Bad One sitting on a pile of horse manure about to be incorporated in the future tomato bed. She´s cute, but clearly possessed by evil spirits.

Lettuce in rows, under a shade structure. Mona looooves the palm fronds and the nice soft diggable hilled soil. Right after I´d made the hills she dug dug dug and did her business. Oh dear... I´m proud of my Panamanian-inspired repurposing skills used in this shade structure. My ex-Bolivia volunteer friend Michelle described Bolivians as McGyvers, always jerry-rigging and re-using materials. Panamanians are the same way, deconstructing things when necessary and re-using parts. I bought nothing new for this shade structure. The supports are made from left over wood scraps from building my latrine, and I happened to have just enough nails left over from that too. I used to have more nails but left them outside when I was out of town and surprise! they disappeared. I guess someone really needed them. The palm fronds are from my neighbor, and I attached them with string that used to be the clothes line before it deteriorated and fell down with all my clothes on it and I bought something that is actually supposed to be used as clothes line.

Below...starting seeds in recycled egg cartons. Germinated as of today are zucchini, Cherokee Purple tomatoes, broccoli, basil and peppers. Thanks to Beverly Gast, Uncle Kevin, and Mom and Dad for the seeds. I´ve been sharing the copious lettuce seeds around, but the more precious stuff I´m starting on my own, and if I have left over plants I will distribute them. As soon as I buy appropriate things for controlling pests, the zucchini will go in the ground because they are growing fast. Also pictured is the old lace curtain that was on my property, perfect as a mechanical pest control against hungry hungry crickets.

Nothing coherent...

2009-03-20T08:40:00.000-07:00

Well, I´ve been working on things as usual, but nothing major or exciting really happened, except I´m suddenly being plagued by wildlife. It´s not that I keep an unclean house, but I do have cockroaches. Mostly little ones, and I keep my food stored in good tight containers...so the only damage they do is charging at me when I move a box they were hiding behind. Mona is a good and dedicated pest controller. There was a tiny snake, a harmless kind, under the fridge the other day. It was black and about the size of a shoelace. Leafcutter ants are still around, but honestly there´s nothing left for them to take. Regular ants sometimes make nests inside, or just discover Mona´s bowl of food. It would be nice if she didn´t have to take all the food pellets out of the bowl, pounce on them, and then messily eat them...because clearly the ants smell the crumbs. Anyways, I´m trying to take more pictures of the wildlife, so here are a few other things I´ve seen.

Big grasshopper. I put the pen up there for comparison but didn´t want to arrange it because I was going to scare the insect. Taking this picture made me miss a bus.

Not wildlife. But I like my new sustainable bowl. It´s what people used here before ceramics, and they still use these, mostly to scoop water. It´s made from a squash-gourd. And I like eating my stir-fry out of it because it´s the perfect size, plus I know when I leave here I will be able to throw it on the ground and it will decompose. Mother Earth is the most sustainable designer.

Goslings at my host family´s. I had a video of them being too cute for their own good, but it didn´t upload onto here for some reason. The baby goat is due in April.

BAAAAT. BAAAAAT. anyone remember that Office episode. I have no exclamation mark on this keyboard, or at least all the puncuation is switched. Well this bat clearly was attracted by the banana peels I had in my bowl of stuff to be composted...but it was strange to see it during the daylight, and so close to the house. Mona must have been eating cockroaches or something, but I´m glad she didn´t see this one because she still doesn´t have her Rabies vaccine and you never know with bats. I poked it and threw some rocks at it to get it to fly away, but it took some real convincing. It must have been injured, but it did fly away.

Beatin' the heat

2009-03-13T08:16:00.000-07:00

It seems to keep getting hotter. I used to think I liked hot climates, but maybe only the hot ones with running water and/or rain. Hot and dry is definitely not my bag. The soil is like…reflective. The wind doesn’t help the feeling that I’m being attacked by the weather when I step outside my house. I get sweaty and sticky almost instantly, and then the dirt sticks to me. Yum. Inside it’s just really hot from about 10am-4pm, but opening the door during the windy season means disaster: leaves and ashes (from the newly burned lot next door…don’t EVEN get me started) and dust fly in, and my precariously hung photos and cards from home all fall off the makeshift cardboard bulletin board. But aside from the occasional freak out, I cope with the discomfort in the following ways:

I collect water in a 5-gallon tank when there is water coming out of the tap. This water is for dishes and bucket-bathing. On rare occasions, I run out, and then we have problems, since I can’t stand dirty dishes (now they get ashy too), and I need to rinse myself off if I go walking around at all. My neighbor has a well and shares, but the truth is that in my town everyone should be getting water every day, at least for a few hours, but they’re not. There’s a simple way (or two) to accomplish this but people are stubborn and I gotta say, a little selfish. I won’t get into it.

I eat fruit. Lots of it. I’m convinced my fruit habit is why I can’t save money here (ok, on $340/month it’s difficult anyways). My poor garden died, so I never got a watermelon out of it. I get good exercise carrying watermelons back from the city though. Now it’s turning into canteloupe season, hooray! Reminds me of Lancaster County in the summer time. I may be basically out of luck with the mangoes, thanks to this wind that’s blowing the fruit off the trees still unripe. I’ve eaten green mango, it’s sour and nice in a salad, but poor stuff compared to a ripe sweet mango.

My refrigerator is a life saver. I always have cold water, cold fruit and veggies and cold M&M’s which here do melt in your hand, or on a plate (they’re a vice, but I make sure to measure them out so I know how much I’m eating). The electricity for the fridge and the fan are paying off in sanity. I’ve started storing wet washcloths in the fridge. After lunch every day, I put a cool washcloth over my eyes and rest for about 20 minutes. This might be my greatest coping technique. I can suddenly see again in the afternoons, after squinting all morning. I think it’s also like a meditation since I can only listen to things, be it music, a DVD or just silence. I always feel refreshed more than I’d anticipate from just a cool washcloth. Turning off my eyes helps me see inward, I guess.

I wash my feet every night. I’m not sure of the cause, but I always feel that my joints are really stiff and swollen, my feet being the worst. As a dancer (at heart, at least), I need to feel like I can move freely. Even doing yoga every day, I feel stiff. I’ve been monitoring my salt/sodium intake, and I don’t think it’s that. Must just be the heat, but going to bed with scrubbed and soaked feet is comforting and for whatever reason increases mobility. I'm on the lookout for herbs or natural things I can stick in the water for an even more spa-like experience. I’ve considered looking for a very large basin I could use as a bathtub (if there was enough water…). I hope I never again have to live where I can’t take a proper bath.

By my calculations, about one month till occasional rains start, and not soon after that there will be rain every afternoon!

Snacks

2009-03-02T09:55:00.000-08:00

Sad News: My grandfather on my mom’s side died this past weekend. I decided not to fly back for the second funeral in 2.5 months. The stress of getting there, plus the trauma that it’s a funeral for someone very dear to my heart, plus the expense, plus having to deal with this difficult (at times) organization all added up to too much. I thought I really would have trouble leaving the U.S. again after a trip back like this. I’ve already waved goodbye to my family from the other side of a security gate at the airport 3 times, and each time it was much harder. A fourth time might have been the end of Peace Corps for me, as much as being here feels right, it’s so so hard to go back knowing how hard the life away from family and familiarity is. So I wrote this, something along the lines of what I might have wanted to say at the funeral. If you’re not from Lancaster, PA or aren’t a Schell or relation, some of this stuff might fly over your head, but it describes a small part of my memories with my grandfather, so I'm keeping it.

There were always snacks. We’d arrive from that seemingly endless 1.5 hour drive from the Philadelphia suburbs out to Pop-pop’s, and despite Mom’s stern looks and protests that we might ruin our next meal, Pop-pop would have some sort of snack for us. A brick of cream cheese mixed with herbs and a whole tube of saltines would be set in front of Theodore (my brother, for those who aren’t family) and I, and we’d eat the whole thing, because we were at Pop-pop’s, and we were allowed. Or there would be pretzels, big hard ones with extra salt. Or a root-beer float, made in one of the glass mugs that had been stockpiled in the freezer for such an occasion.

I remember the time he had made a big bowl of mashed potatoes (something I always requested when we ate at Pop-pop’s), and instead of putting it in the middle of the table, he plopped the mixing bowl down in front of me. “It’s all for you” he said, that mischevious twinkle in his eye. The best grilled cheese sandwich, he figured out, was made with a good cheese (preferably from Clyde Weaver’s or Lancaster Central Market), a slice of tomato, but most importantly, grilled in the electric waffle maker. Sometimes, he’d even make you a black-and-white milkshake with tiny bits of unblended ice suspended in the drink, to go along with the waffle-printed sandwich and that was even better.

When we were staying the night, he would ask us before bed, “So what do you want for breakfast tomorrow?” Pancakes, cheese omelette, French toast, whatever. He’d make an early-morning run to the store, so we could request whatever we wanted. I liked waking up early enough to help mix the pancake batter, or learn to fold the omelette. It was Pop-pop, I’m sure, who taught me to cook breakfast, a meal I never ever skip. Besides the main course, there’d always be big glasses of juice, plates of fresh fruit, toast, and jam (which required a spoon, in Pop-pop’s mind, to ensure that enough jam made it on the bread). The hardest part was getting him to sit down and eat with us.

If you got him to sit down, and if you waited a little while, the stories would start. The most interesting ones were about being on the farm of his foster family during the Great Depression. He must have been very young for a lot of that time, but it is clear he remembered the general feeling of struggle and poverty. However, it was his common refrain, “We had no money, but all of us kids were fat” that stuck with me forever. He said there was always enough food. I interviewed him for a high school report I did on the Great Depression, and he told me that they would even have enough to provide for overnight guests, hobos. Clearly, providing food is not something that was just a fun thing, it was integral to his philosophy on what it means to love and care for people. His stories inspired me to question about the lack of food in the world, especially for the poor farmers who at least should have enough to eat. This work has taken me far away from Pennsylvania, from my family, and from anything comforting or familiar that would help me deal with my dear Pop-pop’s death. But I am fortified by thoughts of Pop-pop, his struggles at a young age of being separated from several siblings and his mother and being put into foster care, his decision to be brave and join the Army and fight in WWII, his determination throughout his life to keep going and make things better for his loved ones, and anyone he met that he could do a kindness for.

You could go anywhere with Pop-pop and come across someone he not only knew, but most often genuinely knew about and cared about. Pop-pop knew how to make people feel valued and important, from the waitresses at Smithgall’s pharmacy to the random people who would stop him on the street saying they remembered him from somewhere. It kind of got annoying, always having to stop and wait for him to have a conversation. But we’d always put up with it, because Pop-pop doted on us so much, gave us that attention and value at home, cooking for us, playing Gin Rummy (and predicting every card that would come up, calling the Jacks and Kings “cowboys”), teaching us to play pool, showing us the garden, or just talking over tea.

I think Pop-pop knew I believed in something and felt compelled to this line of work because of what he had told me, but he usually spent more time questioning me about whether I would be safe enough, happy enough, and yes, whether I’d have enough to eat. Ultimately that was it for him. He would worry about me, sometimes make me doubt my ambitions through hard lines of questioning (but Rachel, are you really making a difference? Why do you need to go to that country? Can’t you stay here a few more days?), but it was only because he knew once I left, he couldn’t make sure I was getting enough food or living in a safe enough place. He never wanted me to experience discomfort, it seemed.

It would be wonderful to go back to Pennsylvania, to say a proper good-bye, but Pop-pop never let me say good-bye when he was living, I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t want that now. In December, when I went back for Nanny’s funeral, he only let me say “see you later.” I guess my task now is to see Pop-pop in myself, remind others who knew him of how he’d act or what he’d do, to use him and his ways as inspiration to be unrelenting and stubborn when it comes to caring, loving, and of course, to feeding others plenty of good food.

Power(lessness) in numbers. Or, fear itself.

2009-02-19T08:17:00.000-08:00

Very long entry, and a bit discombobulated. I hope you’ll read it, as it’s been very therapeutic and revelatory to write about this issue. Without further ado…

I’m starting to think that gossip and a bad affected (right word?) group mentality is what prevents my community from helping themselves, more than lack of resources or any other typical limiting factor. Really, why would a community of people (mostly family, remember) who all say they want the same improvements and they are frustrated by the same things not be able to unite to make changes? This has been my recent experience trying to get the mud stove built. I had my first wildly successful meeting to generally talk to the community. It went great, people were motivated. I invited the SAME people to a meeting to specifically talk about getting this stove built in the community building (which is still a long way from completion…I think I now understand why). Fewer people showed up, but they did agree to meet to dig up dirt which we’d use for the mud. There were a few other materials we would be using, but we agreed they would be found in the coming week and a half until the day we would be actually building. Two people came to help dig up dirt (out of 6 adults who had been at the meeting 2 days prior). It wasn’t much work, but I was disappointed in the drop in enthusiasm. Mostly, I think people didn’t come because they didn’t think anyone else would. Funny, when you think like that, you’re ALWAYS right! Anyways, I got over that day’s disappointment, and got ready to actually build the stove. The day before, I went to all the houses specifically to remind people of the next day’s activities. People were on board, ready. At my host family’s house (my last stop), my host mom told me that maybe we couldn’t build it on top of the concrete table as planned. She made it sound that we probably should give up the idea totally…people were upset about the idea. WHAT? Why had nobody told me at the meeting, or during the weeks leading up, or even that morning? Had they not understood when I asked if we could build it there? According to her, her uncle thought that the people who had built the concrete table had to be asked, because it was the community’s property. At this point, I got very confused (the community’s property…but some people had a greater say over it than the prominent community members at my meetings?) and of course started crying and blabbering with a raised voice in incoherent Spanish. Who was it that didn’t want me to build? They definitely hadn’t bothered to come to any meetings, or hadn’t spoken up at the meetings, or mentioned this to me when I visited their houses (true, I don’t know everyone, but everyone knows each other and they TALK, so you’d think I would have heard about it by now). I see her uncle just about every other day, and he never mentioned this issue of asking OTHER people for permission. Furthermore, why wouldn’t the elusive dissenters want an improvement upon their work? Currently they cook over an open wood fire at this communal kitchen, the pot balanced on cinder blocks. In reality, they rarely cook there (only in September for a special feast, and when they work on the community house). This type of stove uses much less wood, and the cooks are much more comfortable with the flame contained inside the stove and with the smoke floating out the chimney, not back into their faces. So I stormed back to each house I had JUST visited. Getting emotional is not recommended for volunteers, showing that you’re angry at people can lead to problems. However, I tried to contain myself and asked each person if they understood we would be building on the concrete slab, and if there would be a problem with that. They understood, always had, and only problem that came up was that they used the table more to put giant pots of food on, and supposedly that was its purpose. So long as there would still be the ability to do this, we could go ahead. Everyone agreed this would be a good thing to have there, they are the ones who cook and would like to have this built. Just as I had thought. I will not doubt myself based on gossip again. And if it doesn’t work out, I concluded, we could smash the darn thing, and have a plain concrete table again.

I refused to cancel the project on hearsay that someone didn’t want this to happen. But it made me think about why things don’t get done around here. Giving up before starting, because of gossip or the fear that “people” won’t help. I’m not part of this self-fulfilling helplessness that seems to invade communities like BOTH of my Peace Corps work sites. “Ah, well, some people are lazy, that idea won’t work.” “But nobody goes to meetings.” “But some people don’t want to participate in things for our community because they don’t like to share with the rest of us.” I hear these refrains whenever I propose group work. I hear them from everyone, which means they’re just proving themselves right, and that they could just as easily be wrong about themselves. I haven’t yet met the “nobody” or “some people” who don’t want a better life for them and their children, who don’t want something as basic as consistent water in summertime (there is a simple solution that everyone seems to be in agreement about, but I hear “some people” won’t participate, so as of yet, this plan hasn’t been put into action), who don’t want improvements to the community space. There is a great need (in my opinion) to get over fear of failure of group (or individual) work, and to stop proving themselves right. Why should people with enthusiasm to work be paralyzed by fear that other people (who never bother to show up to meetings or to work) will be upset? So what if they are, but I doubt this would be the result. Also, if people stopped thinking, “why should I, if he won’t?” and just began doing things together again, I believe they’d realize that they’re all just as guilty of inaction and negative thinking as their neighbors. A simple change of thinking could go a long way. So basically we are dealing with 2 things that lead to inaction: fear of others’ opinions, and assumptions of future or repeated laziness. The only thing we have to fear...ladies and gentlemen...is fear itself.

The day of building started rocky for me, because of the previous day’s issues. I was confident we were once again in agreement to go forward building on the table in question. However, the person who had been claiming there’d be trouble (my host mom’s uncle), still thought there was some big problem. I explained that this was a big surprise, wanted to know who else had a problem (still couldn’t get names), and basically we were shouting at each other. It was a very difficult thing for me, since this man is one I respect and want to work with a lot in the future. The big issue seemed to be that I hadn’t had a meeting with the whole community (though I had invited everyone I knew and told them to invite other people), so this community table couldn’t be used for a Peace Corps project. This was the first I heard anyone separate the community and Peace Corps this way. It was disconcerting to have it implied that I was coming in with my big ol’ useless project from Peace Corps and not asking the community if we should do it. I was trying to explain that this could be an improvement for the community, why shouldn’t we do it, and why hadn’t anybody come forward before? However the man kept interrupting me (but I totally respect my host dad for trying to help me get some talking time). This had been planned for 2 weeks. I have to take the word of those who come to my meetings or speak to me in private, they are the ones who care enough about their community. Whether they like it or not, they have become the community representatives. It seems to be the pattern to skip meetings if you don’t like what’s going on or if you think nobody else will go and thus nothing will get done…instead of going to give your opinion. This man eventually walked out mad that I didn’t want to change plans and make a new foundation (I didn’t know if that would be alright. Ironically, it’s what we did because it was a better plan due to the way you have to build a stove).

My volunteer friend came as the rest of us were still standing there trying to figure stuff out. Me trying to explain that it’s not that we couldn’t do it on the table, but that nobody gave their opinion and this really was the problem, since knowing this could have helped me plan differently and make sure everything was set. We couldn’t just decide the day of the project to change everything around. The man had suggested we could make a new table-like foundation, and spread the project over more time. Which honestly sounded so dumb to me (but I didn’t say that). It´s hard enough to get people to come to something once, as I´m always told and as I have experienced. Well, we ended up making a building from the ground because that was better given we weren’t sure the strength of the table (had to support a lot of weight and pounding), because it would be smart to do it in a way that would be an example for people who couldn´t afford a concrete table, and because of the issues with “the community.” I guess I have trouble defining the word community as something other than people who participate in communal activities like meetings and building projects. My volunteer friend assured me it’s a very common problem, which I know is true. Still, I thought my community was special and honest and open with me…. In the end though, I had 6 adults (and 8 children) working on the stove. It turned out great (see: Mud Stove), and we plan to make more in individual houses.

How does this experience change me? Not much. I will continue to have high expectations of myself and my community, refuse to accept that people won’t or can’t work or attend meetings, and most of all, refuse to believe hearsay (which has a great Panamanian slang word: bochinche—bo-cheen-chay). Even though in this case it was true the man had a problem, I still think it was unfounded and handling it the way we did was bad. I needed to know this way beforehand (his responsibility), but I perhaps could have rolled with it a bit better, especially considering it was a moot point. Maybe seeing my reaction, people have learned to be straight with me. I will continue to believe the best about people, no matter how much they disappoint me or like this man did, humiliate me by waiting until a public meeting to yell at me to change my plans. I’m overall very happy this project happened, but I know it happened largely because I refused to accept that we couldn’t do it. Had I not been in charge, forcing it through, would it have happened? Hopefully I’m rubbing off on people so they also learn to take charge of change they want.

You must be the change you want to see in the world, to use the Ghandian cliché.

P.S. I went and spoke to my ¨dissenter¨and we cleared up where we had both gone wrong about things. I still don´t see what was essentially wrong about making an improvement upon the work, but that was such a problem for him, I just swallowed it. Really, it was better to make it from the ground, but I think he now knows that these things need to be brought to my attention before the day we have planned work. And we´re friends again. Phew.

Rocket Stove

2009-02-19T07:04:00.000-08:00

So this rocket stove, aka mud stove, aka “estufa lorena” “estufa mejorada” is a pretty awesome thing. There are many designs (not all use mud) based on this way of insulating the flame and creating a vacuum with a chimney, so the heat is directed only to the pot of food, and thus food cooks faster and hotter (THIS is why it´s called a rocket stove...things cook ¨rocket¨fast), and less wood is burned. So clearly, there are real benefits. Less looking for firewood (super scarce). Faster cooking. Cooks are more comfortable because the flame is within the insulated “fire box” section, and the smoke goes up and out the chimney. I like the idea that food doesn’t taste like smoke.

So first thing we did was build a packed-dirt base lined with metal beam scraps and held in place with cinder blocks. This base would make the stove land at about the right height for cooking (starting from the table would have ended up with a way too high cooking surface).

Then we mixed red dirt, sand, and a little bit of straw with water to make the mud mix. The dirt is full of clay, which acts like cement, I forget why we needed the sand other than you always mix it with cement, and the straw was for strength. If you’ve ever heard of ferro-cement building, this is the campo version. Yes, we mixed it in a big hole with our feet. I had a great time.

We made a form out of wood. This was the hardest part, finding straight wood slabs in town, which we could cut to size. I was most worried about this step actually.

The form was secured down to the base with wire. Then we threw fistfuls of the mud mix into the form, packing down very short layers. Throw, throw, pack, pack. The kids enjoyed this part. It took a while to build up 18 inches. We decided to let it dry for about 2 hours before the carving step.

We carved out a hole for the pot. When the pot sits slightly inside its hole, hot air does not escape around the edges, is concentrated underneath the pot, heating it efficiently. There was the “firebox” section, which is a large carved out part where the wood will be loaded and burned. From the burning wood, hot air (ok, smoke) travels to under the pot, and then out the other side of the pot hole, into another channel which leads to the chimney. The chimney’s vacuum helps keep the fire burning hot, but I don’t know how to explain why. We still have to put up the chimney and seal around it before cooking. In the photo there is a cinder block supporting the bridge over the firebox section—our mix was still a bit too wet and we didn’t want cave-ins.

All done!

Now we gotta wait a month to use it. Talking to people in later days, I learned that they enjoyed the experience and seems like we will be building a few more. Now the question is whether I work as a one-woman act, just me working in each house, or if I attempt the ever more stressful but definitely better idea of getting a larger group to work at each individual´s house.

2009-02-13T08:50:00.001-08:00

wasn't planning on posting this week, but waiting for some stuff to download, so i'll make you a list of coming attractions:

1. "rocket" stove...building one this Sunday

2. digging a fish pond at my host family's house

3. exercise class with women in town (in the works)

4. more reading (Panama has possibly pushed back school starting date from March to April...that's one less month of school!)

2009-02-06T09:00:00.000-08:00

haven't read it...so mostly this is a bookmark for me:

Lithium in Bolivia: NYT

some random fotos

2009-01-30T14:27:00.001-08:00

Peace Corps used to send us lots of Newsweeks. That was Bolivia time though, volunteers worldwide stopped receiving the magazine, saving PC some serious dough. Anyways, I had cut out one of many glamour shots of The Man (who in a weird way I work for now...yay!), and it arrived yesterday along with the rest of my stuff that had been carefully listed, packed, and sent here to Panama. The PC Bolivia staff did an incredible job going to each of our sites, following ridiculous instructions like, "look under the bed and inside the shoebox...my favorite pen is inside and I'd like that to be sent back too." Absolutely everything I asked for arrived. Yet, it was a strange feeling, really like opening a box of memories. And when my friends and kids and Dracula didn't pop out of the box, I was indeed saddened. But moving on...I now have that trusty emergency radio from Grandparents Lambert, so I can listen to the many stations that play Panamanian music (though did hear a new Britney Spears song thrown in the mix last night), my Cornell Football shorts, wool socks (!!!), and my stuffed lamb. For some reason, I feel like NOW I can move on, though I've been in another place (many, in fact) for 4.5 months.
Cashew season is a-coming! This tree randomly had ripe fruit (still haven't tried one, since I'm afraid of the poisonous shell hanging down...). When they're really in season, my entire yard will be full of them. It's the only kind of fruit tree I have...and yes I will be inviting everyone in town to pick fruit, and so yes I will have a photo shoot with cute kids and cute cashew fruits. Speaking of cute kids..
Some of my readers, with Huevos Verdes con Jamón. That's Green Eggs and Ham. Today I went to my first trimesterly meeting for my region. Found out there is a lending library for kids' books in Spanish! I had to pay $3 in dues, but totally was worth it for the bag of books I'll get to have in my site for 4 months. Of course, all your donations are always welcome (also math tools would be useful! flashcards, compasses, rulers, et al.). The best thing about this is now I know where YOUR book donations will be donated when I leave country.

Planning to build an "estufa mejorada" (better stove...the kind that uses less wood and smoke goes out a chimney) mid-Feb.

January. Like, the whole month.

2009-01-23T06:55:00.000-08:00

Well, it’s been a while since I really updated about what I’m up to. January, as promised, has been dry (we had one strong rain, thankfully) and fairly devoid of agricultural work. However, I’ve been touting the benefits of mulch and green manures, in hopes that when planting season starts again, maybe some of the farmers will consider planting nitrogen-fixing crops to benefit the other crops, or use mulches to protect the soil from driving rain and the hot sun.

A big activity, however, has been bringing Spanish-language kids’ books with me whenever I go visiting. All the mothers tell me that they want to have their kids practice their school stuff over the summer (and sadly, there is little way to accomplish this with reading, unless there’s a PC volunteer with a stock of books in Spanish), and the kids really do get an excited look on their face when I bring out Dr. Seuss in Spanish. Shoutout here to my parents and Grandparents who provided these books! I think I’ll also be making up some flashcards for math (though I know that’s much less exciting).

I have electricity now! Feel free to send those DVD’s and mixed CD’s (or books that I can read in the evening, thanks to the miracle of lightbulbs)… I got myself a mini-fridge, which is a real boon to my cooking and health I can now cook things and have leftovers that I’m not afraid to eat, store dairy products (no ice cream, sadly), and have cold drinks. I’m living quite comfortably, especially with the fan blowing at night. Now, almost every house in my town has electricity, so don’t get the image in your heads that I am living in the gringa mansion that doesn’t fit in with the rest of town.

I finished my first novel in Spanish! I read Isabel Allende’s Suma de los Días. It took a while, I read in fits and starts, and it began to drag a bit at the end. Still, I did it! My technique was to just read, even if I didn’t get every vocab word. Occasionally I’d read with a pen to underline words to look up later…but I still don’t have an English-Spanish dictionary (I requested one, but I think that request is just as lost as my mail seems to be these days). I was definitely aided by the fact that it’s more of a collection of stories about her life in the last 13 years (since her novel, Paula, about the death of her daughter), because the other novel I have of hers has been really hard to get through: very slow plot that includes a zillion little details and characters.

I have been running several mornings a week. Aided by my feline alarm clock (seriously, what is it with the eating/kneading my hair at daybreak?), I usually hit the gravel at about 6:15am, before the heat, wind and lots of cars on the road. I run to the paved road that connects the Pan-American to the big city a few km down the road. I’m not sure what distance I really am running, but I feel more in shape than I did a month ago. Several women, my host mom included, have expressed that they’d like to lose a little weight or at least do some exercise. I tell them there’s nothing to stop them, but I really want to run alone (I have my reasons). It would be cool to do an exercise class, but there are definitely some logistical issues. We’ll see.

Can’t actually believe I’ve already been here 3 months. Seems like a short time written down, but it’s a significant amount, considering it was the length of training in Bolivia, and I was in my Bolivian site only 5 months and felt so attached to it. The end of January also marks my 1-year anniversary of getting on a plane to Cochabamba, Bolivia…for an adventure I had never anticipated.

To Give

2009-01-02T07:05:00.001-08:00

Pictured: cherry tomatoes, peppers, oranges, bananas and one honkin' big papaya. These things were given to me over just 2 days, when I went visiting to families. It's a wonderful custom in Panama to give when you have something to give. Maybe in the United States, with all the economic downturn, it's good to take an example from the Panamanians, who for the most part don't really think in terms of a good or bad economy. They think of giving on a daily basis to their friends, family and neightbors, whatever they can. I was hesitant to vocalize my problems with money to my host family, but they quickly learned that I could not afford to buy myself a bed, furniture or really even a door for my new house. Suddenly, they told me they'd give me the door they'd bought for me to use when I lived with them (my host dad cut it to the new size), and they had a table they didn't really need that now lives with me. My neighbor gave me a chair, a bed, a mattress and even a pillow.

If you look around you, there's probably something you have more than you need of, and there is probably someone who could use some of that abundance. I'm not just talking money, but perhaps time to spend with a lonely person, or a favor done for someone who needs help, and hour of volunteer work (you don't need to be in Peace Corps for that). Just a thought...but everyone can give something to others, so what's stopping so many people from that?

2 more from Boquete

2008-12-25T05:02:00.000-08:00

best coffee in Panama??

going fast, but it doesn't look like it...

pensiveness for christmas

2008-12-24T13:54:00.000-08:00

This is not your happy christmas blog posting...sorry. But it has a good ending. Sometimes people say they can't tell how I'm really doing from the blog, but in this one I lay it out. First, something I wrote back in good old P-valle, B-va, S-A.

Essay on Culture Shock – 8/21/08

10:30 pm, already been asleep 2 hours. Why do I go to bed so early? There’s something exhausting about being awake, and so comforting about being under a shield (physical and psychological) of covers. Try to turn the light(bulb) on. Energy surge, pop, no more lightbulb. I would try to change the bulb, but I don’t know where there’s a ladder, or where the lightbulbs are kept. This is not my house, I just live here. Feel my way out the door, and into the bathroom, accidentally making noise when I trip over a chair that I swore was not there before. I worry about waking the other residents of the house. I tiptoe, in vain, feeling that every time I go to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I make too much noise and thus wake them up and inconvenience them. They probably hate that I live here, with my noisy cat and weird habits. But, I won’t sleep if I don’t go. In the morning, cat wakes me up at 5:40 am. Normally I could turn on the light and he’d calm down sufficiently, and I can sneak back to sleep for about 20 minutes until he jumps on my head again. Today, I fumble around, grab a handful of his food, and throw it in his dish. He’s not satisfied. How I wish I had another room to put him in. How I wish I felt like I really had a right to let him roam around the house. How I wish I could trust that the kids wouldn’t terrorize him. Wishing does nothing, it’s me, in the room, with a cat that won’t calm down no matter how much I want him to. Coffee, fruit (apple tastes like laundry detergent or perfume…just like the last one. Still, refuse to waste it). Wish I had yogurt but the culture I brought from the city went bad and I couldn’t make any…so no luck there. Listen to some NPR podcasts, feel a little better, cat is still nuts. Can’t stand the screaming babies that have already arrived for the morning daycare. Hate that I’ve been forced to live in this echoey kid-filled house. I would never have chosen this. Get out, I tell myself. Get out for the morning and you’ll feel better. Get dressed, plan to go visit the school director to do some planning, but first stop by our government ag extension’s house to buy some yogurt culture. Damn, still not there. Not in his office either. Would look more but for some reason this morning two guys (who I know and are usually pretty nice) have decided that today it’s funny to say “hello” (yes in English) and sing that stupid stupid stupid 60’s song that happens to have my name in it. Pero Raquel, mi raquelita. SHUT UP ALREADY. GROW UP ALREADY. See that the director is just getting to school, won’t bother her yet (she won’t pay attention at this point in her day). For some reason, really feel like crying, decide to visit my friend. House is open, but she’s not there. Go home. Want to go talk to the adults I live with, but end up tripping, feeling stupid, and knowing that if I open my mouth I will cry. I don’t want their sympathy, I don’t want to tell them I’m sad, I’ll look weak and they’ll think, “aha, we were right, she is always sad! Why can’t the better volunteers come back?” Pretend I was on my way to weeding the garden. Why does my chicken wire fence get all wobbly every few weeks? It’s never going to be tight and strong like the Bolivians’. I have no credibility. Sob all over my plants, but nobody sees and there are less weeds, so at least I accomplished something. Back to my one-room prison/sanctuary. Cat has taken the liberty of digging all the sand out of his litter box…it’s a total mess. What is wrong with him? Am I feeding him wrong? Should I have had his stitches checked on or removed before I last left the city? Maybe they didn’t take the testicles all the way off. I’m a bad owner. I want to hit him…I’m never violent back home. I scream into my towel. Put him in his travel cage, before he or I can do any damage. Clean up the sand, luckily it was new and thus clean. Feel guilty, let cat out. Kids still making noise. Do US toddlers scream and cry that much? I’m never having kids. Hope I was never so unreasonably demanding as these ones. Cry more, realize I have to pee but can’t leave my room without the babysitter seeing my puffy eyes. Put on iPod, loud (thank my lucky stars that package arrived last time I was in the city), read a few pages. Figure my eyes have cleared up enough to leave the room. In the bathroom, catch myself in the mirror. Well, my bangs look super awesome today! One point: Rachel. Feel better suddenly. Decide I will cook Japanese rice and steamed veggies for lunch (I’m trying to be on a diet…still at a loss about why I have gained weight in site). Rice has a larva in it. But only one. That’s another point for me. Clean out the rice, put it in a better container. Make some toast from my homemade oatmeal bread. This bread is amazing, what an accomplishment! And then, I feel ok.

This was NOT a typical 12 hours of my life here. But this sort of morning happens, and is very real and scary while it’s going on. Little things that wouldn’t be a big deal in the states compound on each other within one’s fragile psyche here, far away from easy fixes and speed-dials to friends. I wanted my readers to have a sense of what culture shock feels like as you’re going through it, hence the present-tense style I wrote in. It usually has less to do with actions taken against you by those of another culture, and more to do with a feeling of being trapped by your situation and by the fact that there is a point where the people around you won’t understand why you’re upset or why you can’t explain it. For me, that’s what it is anyways. Rest assured, it’s another thing I take in stride, and it luckily is a rare occurrence for me. It’s a part of this experience, and I’m sure serves that great purpose of making me stronger. Maybe I am changing a lot, since I bet months ago, a bad morning might have affected me for much longer.

I included this because I go through culture shock in Panama too, and sufficient time has passed since the above events that my mom won't freak out too much if I post it. I won't get into too much what's culture and shock in Panama at the moment. I'll say that these two can make the bigger frustrations in my life harder to manage.

I'm frustrated that at this point in being a volunteer (I became official in April, so it's about 8 months), I still don't have a project started. And even though it's for the obvious reason that I started anew in Panama just 2 months ago, it's like a volunteer service clock is ticking...I want to build, I want to have a thing to tell people I'm doing/did. I want someone to tell me or at least imply that I'm having an effect in their daily life. Pero, nada. And as I mentioned in the last post, people aren't working right now in my area. It is hot and dry, so in terms of all things growing and green, there isn't much market for work. So sitting in my hammock, visiting with people, that's all nice if I would have another reason to be in my town. As some of you know, one of my grandmothers died this month (I made it to Pennsylvania for 2 days for the funeral and to be with my family), so being in a town in Panama with no blatant reason to be there, just some vague idealistic you-know-what, instead of enjoying the comforts of home at the holidays, seems a little more ridiculous when I am still very much grieving that loss deep down inside, and know that my family is as well.

Ok, the good ending. Sometimes you need an adrenaline hit to stop feeling jaded, sad, mad, etc. Good thing I had planned to come to this mountain town of Boquete (in the mountains in the west of Panama) for a few days over Christmas, with the other two Bolivia transfers. I wasn't sure what we were going to do here, besides speak English and play cards. The other two were very into the idea of DOING things...good people to be with when you're generally bummed out. Peter suggested we do ziplining in the cloud forest canopy...$60 which is more than I spend on most things, and I thought, "yeah, remember doing new and exciting and challenging things in Bolivia? let's chase that feeling again." So yours truly strapped on a harness, listened to some (I'll admit it, pretty good-looking) Panamanian zipline guides, felt a some serious adrenaline (as I am scared of heights) and left the demons at the top of the hill. And while I admit that I would still rather be complaining about the cold and cooking Christmas breakfast for my family tomorrow morning, I feel better than I did when I woke up to what I thought would be just another day in Panama, and I suddenly remember that I still have a lot to see and do, and there is a lot I CAN do; it's about challenge, it's about sticking to it when you don't always want to, it's about being creative (which I think is the most-commonly-used adjective to describe me, and I'm not living up to it lately).

I also have big plans for the next few months in my site...building stoves, doing compost piles to prepare for planting season, etc. So stay tuned, I'm back in it.

2008-12-14T08:57:00.000-08:00

Besides working on being a housewife to myself, I generally do a lot of visiting. My closest neighbor is extremely generous with her electrical current, letting me charge my computer and cellphone and put my extreme perishables in the fridge (most veggies, I’m finding out, can be stored for many days without refrigeration). She has a six-month old daughter who is just so cute, and who has started to recognize me. She likes to squeeze my finger, so I guess it’s good she’s not afraid of me. When I leave here (confirmed I’ll be leaving April 2010, by the way) she’ll be almost two years old, what an interesting thought! All the women here in town are about the same age, and so are the children. I don’t know of any child over 12! I like visiting houses, I’m getting good at the visit, sit and chat, known as “pasear” –to pass by. Another friend likes to use me for my technical skills (this is how you plug in a DVD player, this is how to re-set it to color when the kids have messed with it and it’s in black and white)--not something I mind in the least. I leave houses feeling happy, and usually not empty-handed. It’s a common thing for me to be asked if I have enough bananas (never!), plantains or whatever else they might have enough to share. What a beautiful thing, since it’s never forced. Right now, people are mostly not engaged in agricultural activities, save a few very notable examples. Since it’s turning into dry season, most people (whom I know, because I haven’t met many of the farming men, which definitely skews my point of view of activities) aren’t planting any more. The corn and rice are growing, so they’ll be weeded a few times, and eventually harvested. I hope I get invited to help out…being out in the fields with the blazing sun is not necessarily fun work in itself, but getting to share the experience and learn things through fairly easy conversation is something I value and find very fun. My host family is of course still doing things, but even so, the work is less. The goat (not Ding, but her mother) is pregnant as of November (she didn’t go into heat this month), which means that around April there will be a baby to give to another community (part of the Ministry of Agriculture’s agreement to give the family a goat) and…milk! Which means cheese and yogurt! Another family I’m growing close to has “habichuelas” – green beans, more or less, that they’ve been harvesting and selling. I am supposed to go there and demand beans when I want them, but still I find it hard to ask for things. This family works so hard, and !BONUS! has grapefruit trees (and lots of other fruits…it’s just that it's about to be grapefruit season). I like them because they have sort of the same philosophy I do about farming. Work hard, don’t get stuck doing things the same way all the time, enjoy the fruits of your labor. I hope to take the mother of this family with me to a Peace Corps community leadership training in January…to involve more members of the community than just my host mom (this woman’s technically my host great-aunt and also my host dad's sister…like I said before, the whole community is a big family or two) in the experience of having a Peace Corps volunteer. I think it will be good to shift the focus away from my host mom a bit, since there is a little bit of jealousy in the community, that she always gets the help from the Ministry of Agriculture, she got the Peace Corps volunteer, etc.; these good things happen to her because she is willing to seek help and thinks outside the box…which everyone in the community could do, if they wanted. Still, to demonstrate the point that there can be more of a balance of good things that come the way of the town, I will be hoping to take some other people to Peace Corps trainings.

2008-12-09T14:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I’m living in the infamous house (on my own!) now. The first night I actually was scared to sleep there, but now it’s no big deal, it was just unfamiliar noises and a dog walking around outside at midnight. It’s full of wildlife, or was…I arrived from Thanksgiving to two large nests of biting ants inside the house. Luckily, I had a package of ant/hymenoptera killer (wasps, ants, related) that we had used on some little black bees that lived in the house before. Now the wildlife (minus the kitten) mostly stays outside. The birds do like to make a lot of noise on my metal roof, but I think they haven’t been coming inside too much due to the human and feline living there. I’m still not sure whether the bats have been getting in…yup, bats, the same animal my dad was once so scared of he poured a pot of boiling water over one to kill it. I haven’t seen any new evidence of bat activity (poop stains that look like little oil stains on my floor), but still I wonder if they come in when I’m asleep. So, the mosquito net is more like a bat net…since there are thankfully no mosquitos and the smaller insects can easily get through the netting. It’s also serving as a nice kitty hammock/jungle gym…

My lovely lovely shower/latrine. It doesn’t smell, and taking a shower under the bright sun (nope, there’s no roof over the showerhead) in the late afternoon is real luxury, even if that water is cold. The only issue I can really foresee with this one is that the door is only a shower curtain, and we’re starting windy season. I can secure it on both sides, but still…you do the math.

My garden is coming along, since I obtained a whole lot of seeds from fellow agriculture volunteers at our recent in-service training. I think the first thing I’ll eat out of the garden will be radishes, since they only really take a month to grow (and the seeds germinated within 24 hours!). It’s a race between the radishes and the asian greens (the germinated literally overnight)…which I was super excited that somebody had seeds for! The package was even in an asian language (I wouldn’t dare guess which, though if you asked a Panamanian it’s “chino”). I also have an interesting variety of spinach (it’s like, a vine, but I’m sure still full of good vitamins), habañero peppers, green onions, and watermelon planted; there’s kale, eggplant, summer squash and okra in my seedbed, I’m really hoping they come up!! I am starting a little herb garden as well, my host mom gave me aloe sprouts, and I’ve planted lemon basil, “toronjil” which is a citrusy leaf you can make tea out of, and native cilantro (flat oblong leaves, much hardier, but you need more plants because there are only a few leaves per plant). As always, if you can find seeds and manage to send them in a way that they won’t be detected in the undoubtedly sorted-through package, I’d totally appreciate them (and promise to share with my ag buddies and community members…I’m definitely in debt for all the seeds and plants they’ve been sharing with me).

Kitchen/oven. I have an oven…which is a luxury to people here, though they’d all like to have one. To me it’s an essential to be able to eat real bread (the hot dog bun-like bread that comes to our store twice a week does not cut it for me) and baked foods, so I’m not going to say it’s a luxury for me. Plus, I totally share the goodies that come out of there (like the banana bread I made yesterday that had bananas my neighbor gave me…). Speaking of ovens…I think in the dry season I’m going to be building a fire oven and stove in the communal space (they call it a “casa communal” but without walls and a finished floor, for now it’s a space…a work in progress). These are the stoves/ovens that Peace Corps and many NGO’s focus on, that use much less firewood thanks to some basic physical principles (like insulating and keeping the flame within the structure, and using a chimney). So be on the look out for that activity.

Oh yeah, little Ray lives without electricity. I have paid (and agonized over the price) a good amount to wire up my one-room house with three electrical outlets and four lightbulb sockets…but the hardest part is getting an account with the private electric company who will eventually come out and hook me onto the grid. I tried and failed to do this myself; I needed to have a deed to the property and a rental agreement, but supposedly the owner of my house is coming next week on other business, and she will take care of this. Still, we don’t know how long the wait will be for the company to come and hook me up. The good thing about this is that I know what it’s like to be without the electricity, and I don’t feel so bad about having made this choice to dig into some of my US money for the privilege that most volunteers here don’t get…light and power.

Happy Thanksgiving...here's for your entertainment while the turkey cooks

2008-11-27T08:47:00.001-08:00

ImnotdoinganythingmomIswearIswear!

My valiant bodyguard kills a roll of thread while maintaining lots of balance and cuteness.

Sup?

What are they running from...?

Mona wants to catch a Thanksgiving goose.

mail situation...

2008-11-27T08:20:00.001-08:00

Ok...this is what happens to packages on their way to me. I'm pretty sure my mom didn't masking tape the sides together herself, which means somebody tampered with it (well, the woman at the desk said something that could have been that they did it in the post office, but other volunteers say that they only open your packages in front of you there and I was just so excited for my first piece of mail in 6 weeks that I wasn't really listening). IF you plan on sending mail, I highly recommend religious decorations and a list of items inside, which can be in english, but with a title of "Lista de Cosas en Este Paquete" so tamperers know they're being watched and so I know what you intended to send and I can appreciate it fully. I'm so sad that this happens, though whoever opened the package didn't notice the silver necklace that my friend Emily had sent to my house and which made it here unstolen.

I'm only going into this much detail about the subject because I know that sending packages and letters is a way many of you wonderful people can feel connected to what I'm doing here and I don't want that effort to be in vain...not because I think I deserve to be so spoiled.

Religious Sayings in Spanish, perfect for packages: "Dios Te Bendice," (God Bless You) "Que Viva el Amor de Jesus," (no direct translation--That Would Live the Love of Jesus) "Señor de los Milagros, Guianos" (Lord of Miracles, Guide Us --the Lord of Miracles is major here)

A tip I've also heard from volunteers...since seeds are technically not ok to send, relatives have taped them inside double-folded magazine advertisements and it just looks to a careless customs officer or package hijacker like it's a magazine. I think CD's and DVD's would also be well packaged this way.

Please do not spend lots of money on the contents of a package, I'm not in desperate need of expensive things, and I'd hate for anybody to spend money on things that will get stolen. Second hand books aren't too big of an investment, will be appreciated by volunteers for years to come (we have book exchanges) and if they do get stolen, don't hurt thy sacred pockets too much.

P.S. I never had nor saw a tampered package in Bolivia. Harumph!

Grito de Independencia

2008-11-27T08:04:00.000-08:00

Boys in sombrero panameño and girls in pollera, doing baile típico.

It’s November, which means it’s country pride month. The kids have maybe 10 or 15 days of school this month, since there are so many days off to celebrate various facets of Panamanian pride. I went to my nearby city’s Grito de Independencia – the “cry of independence” which celebrates when the Panamanians literally cried independence from Columbia. I think. It was, in finest Panamanian style, a parade. There were bands from schools from all over our province. Here, being in band is really cool. Especially if you’re a drummer. My host brothers really want to be in band so they can pound the drums and wear sunglasses in the parades! I think parades are going to punctuate my experience on a regular basis. Recently I was in Santiago (my regional capital) and suddenly there was a parade. I asked my waitress what they were parading for, and she said, “es para las virgencitas.” It’s for the little Virgins. Sure enough, seemed like every Virgin Mary statue from the Catholic churches around Santiago and Veraguas was being paraded that day, along with her devotees. One day someone will have to explain to me why there are Virgins of xy and z. The great thing about parades is just about everyone can join in. If you have a kid in band, you are allowed to walk near or behind them. For the virgencitas, anyone who was devoted to that virgin put on a super duper clean outfit and heels and opened up an umbrella (that day, for the sun) and walked behind their statuette, proud to show everyone that they were showing their devotion to Mary. Believe me, I think that’s real dedication to walk slowly in heels and nice clothes when it’s hot or raining or both for a few hours.

Heels, short skirts, independence.

Hatchets?

Little girl in pollera--the traditional latino cultural dress (the indigenous groups have different traditional dress)

Little drummer boy.

2008-11-23T08:27:00.000-08:00

Ding the goat says stay tuned for more updates...they´re really coming! She also says she´s glad she´s not a turkey in the United States right now. She´d rather eat grass and bananas than be a Thanksgiving centerpiece. Haaaapy Thanksgiiiiving.

2008-11-12T04:34:00.000-08:00

Things have been just about the same here in the last week and a half. I’m getting a better sense of the way of life here (read: very slow and lots of family time), and I finally worked out my living situation. I know in the last blog it seemed I was set up already, but that house fell through. Luckily, there was another empty dwelling, which is much smaller but big enough for me. I almost didn’t get that house either because they are expanding it this summer for future use…but the owner took pity on me and said I could live there as long as the construction wouldn’t bother me. It might a little, but of course I said yes as long as they tell me when the workers are going to show up. My impression is that they’re not building directly onto my house, but more like in my front lawn. What a relief to not have to invest in building a house—it would have been really hard to do and after seeing houses that were already standing, I didn’t want to deal with the headache.

I’ve gone swimming in our river a few times. It’s really pretty and extremely refreshing in this heat. There’s just about nothing you can do to feel cool when it’s so hot—it’s a heat you don’t believe until you experience it. I bought a fan, which helps at night, but when you’re out working in the day (it gets hot at about 8am), you just have to wear a hat and convince yourself you’re “sweating out the toxins.” That’s why most people around here don’t work much in the summer. Though my host family does, because they have irrigation (another reason most people don’t farm in the summer, which is December to April here, is that there isn’t always water). People seem impressed that I work alongside my host family, and as word gets around people are being more enthusiastic about showing me their crops and saying we should work together some time.

The other day I feel like I actually imparted knowledge, when I suggested that we make barriers around our raised beds into which we were about to plant cucumbers. In just a week after working that soil into beds, the heavy rains had really almost flattened them again, and I’m sure a lot of good topsoil went to never never land. To avoid this process, I suggested we intervene. So the two older boys and I hauled banana stems from various parts of the property and we arranged them around the beds. Hopefully we can see that the soil stays within the barriers now. I wonder if it will have a measurable effect on production. It was a pretty easy process, sort of blows my mind that this isn’t already done considering the vast amounts of barrier material and the well-acknowledged erosion problem (they express it as "soil washing" here). Next step: try this technology with more people!

2008-11-12T04:26:00.000-08:00

Mona attempts to deflect child's hands with cuteness

My host brothers: aged 11, 7 and 12

rainbow (I see one about every other day); also pictured: banana palms and some other tropical trees

first semana

2008-11-01T09:40:00.000-07:00

Since I have arrived in site, I’ve been quite busy! My host family for this first month is amazing, they’ve really taken advantage of training that the Ministry of Agriculture has offered them. For the past 2 years, they have been receiving materials to build various useful technologies like drip irrigation and a seed drying shed. The best thing is that they really use these technologies to their advantage, and constantly seek out ways to improve what they’re doing. They’re innovators/early adapters, in sociologists’ words. It’s great that I live with a family that actively does agriculture, since I’m quickly learning about the ins and outs of Panamanian agriculture. Some highlights:

-practicing machete-ing grass and weeds to make a clean planting surface; you’d be impressed how a properly wielded machete can act as a lawn mower-slash-weed whacker
-explaining the properties of tropical clay soils, and how we can bury organic matter to make soil that is easier to work and more productive; they already do this, but now they know WHY the soil is so darn hard regardless of whether you get the guy with the cultivator to break it up
-extolling the virtues of worm/kitchen waste composting bins; next step: finding the California Red Wrigglers (there are a TON of government and non-government agencies here, someone must have them), building bins in such a way that the very greedy, very destructive ants won’t eat all the eggs
-agonizing over the extreme, real problems with insects; although it is fascinating to watch leaf-cutter ants de-foliate entire trees and plants, it really is a problem when you need to eat what comes off those plants

Like I said, my host family is great. I have three “brothers” who crack me up, it’s fun to feel like an older sister to them. They are all different and I like them for different reasons. I already feel welcomed as a part of the family, hopefully I will be able to be a positive influence on them while I’m here. The oldest one was so amazed at how much I read, and decided to see what the fuss was about and started reading more too (though he started reading one of my Isabel Allende books that mom sent me…maybe a little adult for him)! Send kids/preteens books in Spanish! Scholastic I know translates many of its titles into Spanish. I bet my brother isn’t the only one who will discover that a book that isn’t boring and for school is actually FUN to read, and it would be awesome to have a collection of books that kids could sit and read in my house—an antidote to the television watching which is destroying these kids’ spirit to do anything constructive or outside (since parents didn’t have television in their childhood, they haven’t realized that they need to make rules about watching television). We’ve also been bonding over Phillies games, so I guess I have to be grateful for the TV in that respect. I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY WON! I can believe it, but it’s never happened in my lifetime. It was a thing for Panameños too because the catcher, Carlos Ruiz, is from here. I love how biased the papers are towards him being the star player…though he is a very good catcher I suppose.

My host mom is so energetic, very concerned that I’m comfortable and happy, and doing things that I want to do. She explains to everyone we go to meet that I don’t eat meat, or pork, or sausage, or chicken (not even the chickens that run around on the lawn! That even counts as meat to Raquel!), and that I’m so funny that I don’t take my coffee with sugar or milk, and that I already speak Spanish. It’s amazing how fast people go through sugar here though. My mom seems to buy about a pound a day. So maybe I can avoid gaining too much weight if I at least don’t pump myself full of sugar—I’m already eating lots of deep fried foods, which sure are delicious. On that note, it is less than a month already that I have left until I can live on my own and cook entirely for myself. There is a house built here that I can use, but I have to pay to re-wire the faulty electricity and have free reign to decorate and paint and landscape--anything would be an improvement. It’s a great blank slate of a house! My host mom says that we will make up some transplants as soon as we have a free afternoon, so that I’ll have some things to plant right away. I’ll also probably amend the sink and build a gray water filter off it so I can use that water in a garden, especially during the dry season (December-April). I also want to build a solar hot shower, even though I can stand a cold shower with the heat, there’s something about hot water that makes you feel really clean. I have lots more ideas too.

Oh, I already have a kitten. Lucky me that my host cat had kittens about a month ago, and my host mom was looking to give one away. I wanted to name her after a famous thief (Cristobal Colon?) because she is very greedy and steals food out of her mom’s grasp and then whines for milk. However, I couldn’t stay apolitical with a name that clever, so I settled on Mona, which is the female form of the word for monkey. Because monkeys are funny and steal stuff and climb all over the place. It´s not an instant love like with Dracula, but that´s because the mommy is still around...I can´t really compete with that.

This is the time when Mona decided to wear my Cornell hat as a cape and run around with it like super-kitty. Well, that´s not actually happened. She fits under it so I hid her under it, and then she poked her head through the loop, and started trying to escape, which she couldn´t, so she just kept trying harder. It´s like tying a bell on the tail...hilarious, but if you have a soul you take one or two pictures and relieve the animal of its misery.

Sorry not more pictures of site...but it´s only been a week!!

Inflation..I'm sick of it

2008-10-23T13:51:00.001-07:00

So reading an article sent to me by my father and a good friend, regarding the evacuation/aftermath of the PC Bolivia volunteers, I had rabies (well, that's a translation of a way of saying you were super crazy mad) to put some things into the light. May I add the following (of course from my own point of view, but we were all going through this together in one place, and I heard a lot of talking volunteers, discussing their options, hopes and fears)...

The Peace Corps team from Washington, D.C. was extremely helpful in the decision-making process, never forcing us to take a transfer, because it is not wise to make life decisions during stressful events, or to make them in a short period of time. Many of my compañeros weren't ready to make that decision to jump into a new culture, program, and country without our familiar surroundings and friends. And it wasn't a rejection of Peace Corps, for anybody that I talked to. It was a need for time and closure, whether in Bolivia or in the U.S. Sometimes I wonder whether it's something I should have taken more time to think about, and had I done so, I would have had to close my service and re-enroll for 27 months, thus being counted among the "PC rejectors." We had a wonderful counselor to help us with the tough stuff, and we had placement officers who helped us with knowing exactly how sure we would be about getting placed to a new, satisfactory post if we so chose, once we had sorted our thoughts out in the U.S. (or on a super-sweet South American vacation using some of the money we'd earned as volunteers...it's not much, so why not spend it somewhere less expensive and really interesting).

More than half the volunteers had LESS than a year left in service (some were a MONTH away from their full commitment of 2 years), and it wouldn't make sense for those people to add a new 1 or 2 year commitment just to keep being in Peace Corps. To me, that makes sense that they wouldn't hurry to another country, but rather go back to Bolivia to tie up their loose ends and maybe make arrangements for almost-done projects to be completed. Again, not a rejection of peace corps or a statement against the organization, rather a logical decision.

There is a good number of people who are planning on doing another WHOLE 27 MONTHS. those people had to close their service, which inflates the number of "not continuing" members.

Some COS-ed people are interested in Peace Corps Response, which places returned volunteers in short-term high-involvement projects to accomplish a specific goal, often in response to a major crisis (this used to be called Crisis Corps). to be eligible for PCR, you need to close your service, then re-apply from home.

Some people with recent injuries could not transfer, because their medical clearance would take longer than the few weeks that would remain before moving to the new country. That's unfortunate, but those people could still do Peace Corps in the future, and I know some really fought for the chance to transfer. Were they rejecting the organization? This might be the only small group of "angry" volunteers, but they were angry that they couldn't continue right away, because they still wanted to be volunteers.

All the people who ended their service have "Returned Peace Corps Volunteer" status. It's like they're veterans. Are those who end their military tours of duty rejecting the U.S. military? They are honored as veterans, and hold that status for life. Though the military and Peace Corps are clearly different, I do see a comparison. An RPCV continues as such, as a part of the organization, and can choose to be an active RPCV, visiting schools, participating in events, etc. It's an honor for many people to say they are RPCV. I don't think most of these people would be considered as mad at the organization.

So as you can see, when the news talks about the HUGE number who apparently ended their relationship with Peace Corps or who were angry at the organization, they aren't giving a full picture. Why paint it in this negative light? I'm glad the Washington Post today did add more to the story about back-to-Bolivia volunteers. I'm so proud of the people who chose to go back to tie things up, or stay in their sites and work for a while longer. It says a lot about those people, and (in my opinion) how important their Peace Corps experience was to them. For us transfers, that was an unfortunate draw-back. Many of us would have loved to have gone back to Bolivia for a week and THEN go to another country, but it was not an option because the government is still obligated to protect us as volunteers, and Bolivia isn't safe enough for them to let any current volunteer visit.

I would encourage the Press to give a more rounded version of the story. They probably can't find a current volunteer willing to give an interview (we're not supposed to, for our safety and privacy), unfortunately, but the least they could do is research more of the post-Close of Service options and reasons behind taking this path. Then the numbers might not look so dramatic. But then again, what is the Press if not Drama? Not News...certainly not!

Para su placer de vista

2008-10-21T07:23:00.000-07:00

some images from my first weeks here in Panama...which have taken me from former army barrack-hotel living to tropical suburban panama city to malls on re-purposed and re-painted school buses to a volunteer's site on the edge of the cordillera and back again

3 birds: if you look close at the center of this one you can see the third bird's tail; they call it sangre de toro (bull's blood) because it's bright red and black, like nothing you've seen before

nice dusk picture that doesn't at all capture the amazing view of the jutting hills

diablo rojo: public transport, not usually red, but always devilish

random city view: either Panama City or a Latin neighborhood in NYC on a way too sunny day...you decide

mini-super: oxymoron? I'd just call it a mini

mail call

2008-10-21T06:52:00.000-07:00

I have an address!

Rachel Schell-Lambert

Entrega General -- Santiago

Provincia de Veraguas

República de Panamá

Some mail tricks:

small packages (padded envelopes), no valuables (monetarily...since anything sent with love is definitely of value to me), value of zero, write Materiales Religiosos on it, address it to Hermana Rachel Schell-Lambert (so people think I'm a nun/religious figure), tape religious pictures or affix stickers of like Mary and Jesus over the seam--if you feel comfortable doing so (people are adverse to cutting those), keep the packages neat and inconspicuous (no triple-reused envelopes that need to be taped up everywhere)

That was fast

2008-10-09T16:33:00.000-07:00

I'm hot. I drank real coffee twice today. I'm happy to be here.

Well, I landed at 11pm last night, got to my hotel at about midnight, and we started our day at 7am this morning, so I'm tired. But so so glad to be here. Today was mostly an intro to the way PC Panama works (very organized and professional, with high but realistic expectations of its volunteers). I got my site assignment already! It's in an area that's south of the mountains, so it's "Pacific" and thus drier (not really dry) and still hot like the rest of Panama. Yup, it's hot here. Seems like everything indoors in Panama City is air conditioned though, yuck; I'd rather feel the heat a bit more--a fan would suffice for me. I did get to prance in the warm tropical rain today! That probably made some people stare. Tomorrow we move in with host families, which is always awkward, but I'm convinced I can do it more easily this time, without the extreme language barrier I had before. Never fear, I'm sure there will be plenty of culture shock to write about--and it's soon festival season!!! So far it seems that Panamanians love to dance and there are some really sweet costumes and headdresses, hopefully I can stick around long enough to participate this time around.

So more about my site. It's in the Veraguas province, pretty darn close to the Pan-American highway. Did you know you actually can't go the whole way from Alaska to Argentina on that? There is a 150km gap in eastern Panama where there is no road, just dense jungle. I will be working with some highly motivated farmers, one of whom has goats and would maybe want to make yogurt and cheese. SCORE! And there is significant interest in fish and rice tanks. DOUBLE SCORE (though I need to be trained first in that)! The area supposedly is a huge deforestation site, due to cattle raising, so I may be working in re-proliferation of good grasses and plants/re-forestation, though it will continue to be cattle grazing land forever more. People also have chickens and farm other things (beans, some veggies though I think there is room for expansion on that end). I don't go to site for 2 more weeks, at which point I'll obviously to give some more insight on what it's like.

My boss (director of the agriculture program) is really energetic and seems to be really in touch with volunteers. She asked me how much I wanted to be in touch, we decided to talk every 2 weeks, which I know will keep me motivated and be helpful--I like feeling like I have a consistent support system. Panama City has all the comforts of say...Miami, due to all the U.S. and military influence in recent history, but honestly I'm ok with that--I'm totally charmed by the friendly people. Maybe it's just the brewed coffee and chocolate. I'll try to post some pictures soon.

And una cosa mas...

GOBAMA!!!!!

What's up next...

2008-10-06T06:52:00.000-07:00

Added a new weather link--looks like I'm about to enter the rainiest month of the year in Panama City. And my raincoat is somewhere in Bolivia. Good thing I love tropical rain (I think).

A lot of people want to know if I know where in Panama I'll be. I want to know too! I don't know yet, but judging from the given schedule of 2-ish weeks of orientation (a lot shorter than 3 months), and the fact that we visit our sites only after a few days, I should know very shortly. Some volunteers are out on islands, some are in the rain forest, all seem to have pretty awesome work assignments.

Flight leaves Wednesday, stay tuned.

2008-09-22T13:44:00.001-07:00

WELCOME!!

I leave for Panama as a Sustainable Agriculture Systems volunteer on October 8th. I'm in the US right now eating chewy cookies, real ice cream, good coffee, raw veggies and fruits, drinking right from the tap, washing clothes in a machine, and throwing toilet paper down the toilet. Stay tuned...