Today I am in La Palma, the capital of the Darien Province,
for a regional meeting with some fellow volunteers. Tomorrow I will continue traveling to attend
a meeting with representatives from all forty or so Emberá communities in
Panama. But for now, here’s a little
look into my everyday life in my community as of late. There have been some changes, big and
small. Apparently one of those changes
is that I’ve gotten larger around the waist.
I didn’t notice, but that’s what my community members have been telling
me lately, saying things like, “Benjamín, you are getting fat!” or “When you got here you were so skinny, but
you’ve been eating a lot of rice and plantains haven’t you?” It’s not meant to be insulting; they say it
as if I’m finally looking healthy and normal.
I just laugh and thank them for the compliment.
Through casual conversation I’ve figured out that there is
very little knowledge of the world outside of Panama, or even outside the
community. Most people just can’t quite
grasp how small their country is in comparison to the US. I’ve tried to explain how Michigan is about
four times the size of Panama, and that’s just one of fifty states. Sometimes they ask how long the trip is to go
home and visit, by bus. Estimating if it
were one of the Panamanian public transports called a “diablo rojo,” which is a
retired American school bus with a new paint job, I could make it in 2-3 weeks. That’s when they say something like, “Whoa,
that IS really far away!”
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| Muchachos working hauling gravel |
It’s funny how random some conversations can be. The other day I was talking to a guy who I
call “Picante” because his last name is Ají.
Somehow we got on the topic of time zones and how the sun works. He told me he was pretty sure that the sun
moves while the earth stays put, because he can see it going across the
sky. I couldn’t believe I was the first
person to tell him otherwise. Trying to
explain the angle of rotation and orbit of the earth in Spanish was somewhat of
a struggle. He countered that by asking
how the earth started spinning. I told
him God did it.
The lack of education here is a problem that is starting to
become more apparent to me. There is a
large number of adults in Nuevo Vigía who are unable to read or write. Statistics tell me that in 2007 only 18% of
the Emberá population attended school beyond 6th grade. Just ten years ago junior high did not exist in
the Emberá province. That’s a reminder
of how fortunate I am to have had such a great education. It’s such a simple thing: the opportunity to
learn about the world around us, but some people don’t have that. I am very grateful for the opportunities I
have been given.
Speaking of learning, in a way I have been studying since I
got here. Whether it was a good idea or
not, I pretty much decided to stop teaching myself Spanish and focus almost
completely on learning the local indigenous language, Emberá. Honestly I don’t think I’d be able to do it
if people in the community weren’t so encouraging. Every day they try to teach me something
new. It helps that I have a few
resources so that I can learn to read and write the language at the same
time. The difficult part is that there
are several sounds that have no similar pronunciation in English or
Spanish. That’s why there are some
strange looking characters when writing it.
Now that I have learned a few phrases and sentence structures, people
get so excited when they hear me speak it.
They say things like, “Whoa, you are so smart! How do you learn so fast?” For example, I’ll say something like, “Mẽra aché,
kãreta óbᴧa?” (What’s up bro, what are you doing?), or “Mᴧa beda kóde diguidá
wãya” (I’m going to my house to eat fish).
One of my favorites is “Wana kuide!” (Let’s go bathe!), which is a
common phrase especially when it’s really hot out. The funny thing is it’s also sort of a pickup
line which I’ve had used on me.
One night my host mom, Estela, was teaching me Ẽbera bedea (Emberá language)
while we were sitting at the table after dinner. She brought out this booklet of the gospel of
John that was translated into Emberá a few years ago by Christian
missionaries. She was a little
embarrassed to admit that she couldn’t actually read it, even though it was her
native language. With the light of the
kerosene lantern, I did my best to read the words out loud. My pronunciation was close enough to where
she could figure out what I was saying, and then say it back to me in Spanish. That’s one of those moments that will stay
with me for a long time.
A cultural difference that I was prepared for and determined
not to be bothered by was the concept of time.
I knew that time does not have the same meaning that it does in the
States, but it’s still tough when actually experiencing it, and having your
plans messed up as result. Trying to
organize a community meeting without internet or phones makes things move a
little more slowly. It takes me several
days to walk around from house to house just to inform a small number of people
about a meeting that I am planning.
Despite some setbacks, rescheduling, and practicing being patient, I
managed to do my first couple of participatory activities as part of a
community analysis. Needless to say, the
hardest part was getting people to show up.
In the first meeting members of the community made a map of their
village, looking at things they’d like to see change. The next subject was analyzing their daily
routines to see what could be improved.
The idea is that the community itself is very involved in every step of
the process of their own development, giving their input. That seems obvious, but it’s something that
is ignored by many development organizations.
Right now I’m working on getting a house built so I’ll have
my own place to stay for the rest of my time here. People in my community think it’s ridiculous
that I would want to live in a house by myself, that I’ll be scared and lonely
at night, and that I need a woman to cook and clean for me (hey they said it,
not me). Personal space is not valued
quite so much as I’m used to. So far
nothing has developed except for me picking a spot up on the hill where there’s
some cell phone reception. I figure if I
just keep asking people about my house every few days, then things will start
to come together shortly. I’ll let you
know how that goes.
By the way I was thinking there are a lot of people I
haven’t heard from in some time. I’m
going to put my phone number on here, because I’m pretty sure through Skype you
can call me if you want. Otherwise you
can try and catch me when I have internet once every few weeks or so.
Here’s my cell phone: (507) 6540-7421
Or try the community pay phone on the off chance
that someone will answer it: (507) 333-1210
Just don’t call after 8:30 at night, I’ll probably be
sleeping.
Also please send me your mailing address if you would like a postcard of some sort. I'm utilizing the old snail mail because it's more fun that way.
