Allí in Panamá

“That’s not even a real sized cockroach” *smashes with bare hand*

“I own a cat, and love him”

“Anything in spanish”

Non sarcastically “Thank you for saying I look fat today. You are also looking quite large yourself.” 

My community guide and I at the Project Management and Leadership Seminar. It was a week long event where each volunteer brings one person from their community to gain leadership skills and learn more about how they can be an effective leader in the community. As many people do not even have a sixth grade education, it's a huge deal to go to, and seems rigorous to many. I brought Mariano, who did not go past second grade, but is still motivated to make our community better for everyone. Since returning he and I have been giving joint talks to other members of the community on how to become a leader in Punta Peña. 

Went to a friends community to help construct in home water storage buckets. We call them "plubos", it's a mix of the word pluma(which means faucet) and cubo (which means bucket). It's a simple solution to a common problem in many households around Panama. 

After working on a water tank all week at our in service training, we saw some sweet water falls #PeaceCorpsPanama

Translated excerpt from The Punta Peña Press:

“For Rent: Lofted studio located in central Punta Pena. Just a two minute walk to the Casa Comunal. Pluma outside of house, as well as closed bathing area. Shared latrine with rarely seen neighbors. Located on the community signal hill, with service in loft! Act fast to make this dream house your home.”

Okay, so maybe there isn’t a local newspaper in my pueblo. Hypothetically speaking though, that’s how it would advertise my new house. Yes, that’s right. MY HOUSE! I have passed the final test, and am finally finished with my home family stay. It’s been close to six months of living in a manner I have not been accustomed to since high school. Sometimes, I hated it. Overall though, it was a wonderful experience that I am grateful our post enforces.

Anyways…. I am officially on my own. Well, with Mowgli. We are all settled into our beautiful tiny house on the hill. It’s definitely small, but one of my goals for my time here was to learn to live with less. The house itself is about 6’ x 12’, with a loft and patio both of about the same size. My landlord built me a closed area to banarme, and soon I’ll even have running water in it. That is, when the aqueduct isn’t broken. I’m planning to build a rain water catchment system to ensure there is always water, so I won’t have to hike up the hill while spilling a five gallon bucket of water I’m trying to lug up there.

It’s like a new chapter of Peace Corps now. While I’ve only been here for a week, it’s already feels so refreshing. Cooking for oneself is a luxury that will never get old to me! Just a simple bowl of oatmeal is heavenly at this point. Being alone is also a crazy concept. At this point, I have had constant interaction with natives pretty much all day everyday since I landed here in June. Now, I have time to decompress after a long day of measuring ojos or visiting houses. As an introvert, I am very excited for this.

While the only seasons that exist here are wet and wetter, Bocas still brings out those fall colors at the perfect time.

Friday the 13th was a very morbid day in my community. My eleven year old cousin passed away from what I believe is sickle cell anemia. She had been sick for four years, and doctors had sent her home to be with family before her passing. My host parents and I went to visit her on one of her last days, and you could tell that this poor girl was in pain, uncomfortable in her own skin. After three days back at home, she was released of her pain in the early morning. I can still remember waking up at around two in the morning hearing a woman’s sobbing, which I assume was her mother.

Many people, including myself, went to the family’s house to pay our respects. She was still lying on the bed I had seen her in two days before, but without writhing around in pain. There was a community wide gathering in the church the night before her burial. It is Ngobe tradition to stay up all night after someone passes, as a way of not resting until the deceased is actually laid to rest. Her entire family, along with many kids in her same grade were at the church for this event. There was a “triste” tone to the affair, but of course food and coffee was served to everyone. After dawn broke most people went to sleep for a couple hours, but woke back up for an eight o'clock breakfast prior to her burial. Once everyone had eaten some, we all gathered to bring her body to the community's cemetery. The pastor said a few words, and then everyone threw in a little dirt, before the men with shovels got involved.

This was the first death I have seen in my community, and probably won’t be the last. It was very interesting to see how my community approaches death. In their traditions, and also just the personal reactions. Ngobes definitely treat life and death in a different tone than I am used to, but it is always an experience to learn about this culture. It is extremely sad to see someone so young die, but it was beautiful to watch so many people come out to pay some tribute to her life.

I’ve survived my first month in site.. Well basically.

It’s officially been one month since I have entered my community full time, and I am still trucking on. I had my first regional meeting, first case of giardia, visited two neighboring volunteers, and am building relationships within my community every day. The initial “honey-moon” phase is over, but I’ve been able to pick out who is really interested in working with me.

During training we had pretty much every day planned out to the tee. We had a typical work week 8AM-5PM schedule of classes, with weekend activities planned to get to know the area. Now living in the campo, my life is the exact opposite. I can try to plan something in advanced, but often times plans will get cancelled at the last minute. When it’s raining hard, I’ve learned it’s best to just sit in my hammock and read a book. A true Panamanian never leaves the house while it’s raining!

So what am I doing when it’s not raining? A whole lot of visiting. The phrase “It’s not what you know, it’s who you know that matters,” is ever so true in the campo. Thus, building lasting relationships with my gente is extremely important if I plan to get work done in the future. In order to make these relationships I visit each house. It’s a normal Panamanian thing to do, just walk into a house, and chat with whoever is there. Sometimes it’s just the mom with an infant, and sometimes there are five other people visiting too! There’s always “chicha” (juice) and sometimes food (lots of plantains). It’s the perfect casual atmosphere to introduce myself, get to know my new neighbors, and see what kind of issues they think I can help them solve.