One of Those Moments

The sugar cane grinder: wood + manpower = sugar juice

Maybe it’s because I have a college degree, or just because I’m white, people seem to have certain expectations of my capabilities.  This means I sometimes get roped into things unexpectedly.  Such as being asked to become a full time English teacher, to give a sermon and lead the singing for a church service, or to do a survey of a five kilometer line through the jungle.  Sometimes it’s just little things, such as fixing a refrigerator at the store or suddenly becoming part of a sugar cane grinding operation. 

I had to try it for myself to confirm that it really is hard work

Other times it creates ridiculously awkward situations which, while uncomfortable at the time, make for pretty good stories later.  The other day I was relaxing on my porch in the hammock making a bowl out of a totuma fruit and Marvelia, one of my neighbors, climbed up my ladder to visit.  After talking about how many bugs there were and showing me how to carve designs on my bowl, she told me she wanted to ask me a favor.  She said something sort of flippantly in Spanish and I didn't quite catch what she said, but it had to do with her daughter.  Whatever it was didn't seem like a big deal, and she said, “So you can come over to the house later and do that?”  For some reason it was one of those moments where it’s just easier to nod and smile than to try and figure out what someone is saying.  So I agreed and she left, telling me she would come get me later.  I figured she wanted me to help her daughter with homework or something like that. 

As I made my way down the dirt path to the river, as usual every person I passed asked me where I was going.  The answer is always obvious, “Mua kuide wania!” or “I’m gonna go bathe!”  I came back and cooked some plantains to go with the iguana meat that Merqui had given me.  While I was eating I was summoned by a little girl calling from the ground below to come to their house.  By now it was around 7:30, and pitch black outside with no moon.  When we got to the crooked old house with thatched roof on tree trunk stilts and climbed up, it was too dark to see much with only one dim light inside.  But I could make out Marvelia, her husband Felino, and their baby girl.  Something didn’t quite feel right about this.  There was a pot cooking on the stove, and she started mixing salt water in a cup.  I don’t know if she could see the look on my face, but she said to me, “You know how to do this right?”  Before I could respond she set the cup of salt water, a candle, and matches in front of me.  Bringing the baby over in her arms she said she was ready.  By this time another woman had come over to watch and I was feeling extremely uncomfortable, trying to think of a way to get myself out of this.  What had I agreed to do with this baby?!

Just then the other woman asked if we were doing the baptism now.  A sudden relief washed over me.  Then I thought, “Baptism?  I can’t do that!”  But at that point there was no turning back.  I asked her the girl’s name and did a very brief baptism.  I held the candle above the baby’s head and sprinkled on the salt water, “en el nombre del padre, del hijo, y del espiritu santo, amen.”  Please forgive me anyone who may be offended that I offered sacraments without being a pastor.  After that there was nothing left to say except, “Bia bua” which in Emberá means, “it’s good” and then made my exit.  Just another one of my many awkward moments in Nuevo Vigía.

As for updates, our community here has been changing quite a bit as of late.  The lower part of town (which was officially condemned as a flood zone) now officially has electricity, thanks to the Panamanian Government.  Obviously this changes daily life as light bulbs, televisions, refrigerators, and music systems begin entering homes.  In the upper part of the community where I live (out of the flood zone) we still rely on kerosene lamps and flashlights.  However our new water system, which only serves the hill town, is nearly completed.  So now one part of the community gets electricity, the other will have clean water.  I think I have the better end of the deal.  As you can see it gets a little complicated with these government projects, as they rarely coordinate well.  Rather than try to make sense of how things work around here, my focus for the time being is to organize a water committee and make sure they receive training to maintain this water system.  So far we have an unofficial committee without any training.  The good news is two other communities around me with volunteers have similar situations, and I've been able to learn from them and develop better strategies to tackle this challenge.

By the way thanks so much everyone who has sent me something in the mail.  There is nothing more exciting than the guy at the post office handing me a letter or a package to open.  Just saying even though chocolate melts by the time it gets here, I don’t mind at all - it’s still incredibly delicious.

Here's a brief photo summary of some things I've been doing the past few weeks:

Peace Corps water committee seminar in community of Lajas Blancas

Translating for a Christian medical mission group from the USA

Building composting latrines in community of Alto Playon

Work on our community water system nearly finished

My first Emberá wedding experience - it was quite the party!