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!

Feliz Navidad de Lejos

Sugar cookies we made last night in the hostel kitchen

Merry Christmas from Panama!  I'd be lying if I said I was full of Christmas cheer.  Things just aren't the same when you're far from family and friends.  That and the weather here just doesn't remind me of a winter wonderland.  Regardless, I've been able to take a little break in the city and enjoy some air conditioning, electricity, and good food with fellow volunteers.  Living and working in my community is not exactly stressful that I need a vacation, but it's nice to get out, speak some English, and at least have some type of Christmas celebration.

In general things have been moving slowly due partly to the holiday season, where the mood is very relaxed throughout the country.  One of my side projects outside of actual work has been educating people about the United States, particularly the diversity of its population.  In other words I'm trying to convince them that not everyone from the States looks exactly like me.  I've also been trying to discourage the use of the nickname, "gringo."  I finally got the little five year old girl in my host family to stop using the word and to call me by name.  Whenever she said "gringo" I would call her "niña" instead of using her name.  Interestingly enough she decided she didn't like that, and I explained how I preferred to be called by my name just like her.  Word soon spread that I wanted people to use my name instead of the equivalent of "white guy."  I had to smile when one day when someone called out to me, "What's up Gringo!"  Immediately the old woman next to him corrected him, "His name is not Gringo, it's Benjamín Gringo!"

Carrying penca leaves for the roof of my house

My Christmas present this year was finally getting my house finished!  There are just a few minor things left to do, such as building furniture and moving my things in.  Now it has a completed roof, meaning it is officially a house.  The whole process has been very long and often frustrating.  Amber, one of the other volunteers in my region, decided to come for a visit and try to convince people in my community to help me finish the house.  Since I have no previous experience building roofs out of leaves, I was sort of dependent on them.  After a conversation with Fulgencio, one of my neighbors, he took us out into the jungle to look for penca leaves for the roof.  Carrying big bundles of these huge leaves on our backs for about an hour through mud, streams, and thick brush was hard work (thanks again Amber!).  But seeing those last few leaves finish off the peak made it well worth it.
Pictures of my new bachelor pad

The completed house, soon to be home

Experiencing my first Christmas away from everything familiar has been kind of tough.  But I'm very grateful that I can communicate with family and friends, being reminded that they're here for me even if I can't spend time with them.  I suppose it's times like this, when you're away, that you truly appreciate all those people you have in your life.  Hope you had a very merry Christmas everybody, for those of you in cold places - enjoy not sweating for me.

Mountain Roads and Green Bean Casserole

After some Peace Corps training followed by our Thanksgiving party, I've been out and about for over two weeks now, the longest time I've spent outside of my community.   Normally if I leave for more than a day or two, people ask me if I went back to "Meecheegon" to visit.  So even though I told people where I was going, I can imagine they probably think I left for good at this point.  Hopefully not...

Our training sessions in Coclé made for a good time to catch up with old friends - well, more like new friends that I hadn't seen in several months, since they live on the other side of the country.  Our whole group got together and learned all kinds of fun stuff from filling out grant applications to building a model aqueduct for water committee seminars.  One of the best parts was the food.  I forgot what it was like to actually be full.

We ended up having a few days to kill before most of us headed out to the Peace Corps Panama Thanksgiving party.  A small group of us decided to visit Peña Blanca, Chet's site in the mountains of the Comarca Ngobe Bugle.  The community is another indigenous group called the Ngobe, with their own language and traditional dress.

Hanging out in Chet's new house in Peña Blanca

Everything about the area is completely different from my community.  That was the first time I've actually been somewhat cold at night in Panama.  All the houses are long distances from each other, there are huge mountain ranges to look at, and the people are very shy.  So pretty much the opposite of my community.  While there is actually a road to the village, I think I prefer cruising on a river.  Getting tossed around in the back of a truck over mountain roads can be quite painful and exhausting.  When you have almost thirty people in the back of a pickup, sometimes you have to get out to lighten the load going up certain slippery hills.  We only had to push it up a hill once.

Taking a walk to let the truck make it up a hill

Traveling even further west into the mountains, we made our way to Cerro Punta to celebrate Thanksgiving.  I really enjoyed the cold weather there, it was a great relief from constant heat and humidity.  Let's just say I've been missing the change of seasons here.  Some volunteers worked hard to bring us a legitimate Thanksgiving meal, with all the essentials.  I was very impressed.  It definitely wasn't the same without my family, but we've all become a kind of family here.  One thing that I am thankful for is having all the other Peace Corps volunteers around to share stories, laugh with, get cheered up, and quite honestly keep me from going insane.  We are all from different backgrounds, beliefs, and stages of life, but when we get together it's like a family reunion.  That's been a great support for me.

Enjoying our delicious Thanksgiving meal

Happy 3rd of November

Sometimes it feels like I'm in my own little world out in the jungle.  Without regular access to internet, TV, or news, I often have no clue what's going on in the rest of the world.  Every once in a while I'll get a little piece of news from another Peace Corps volunteer or a family member on the phone, but it's like a quick snapshot without much background.  Apparently there was a hurricane in New York, and Obama is still the president.


The month of November is patriotism month in Panama, with many holidays including two independence days - one from Spain and the other from Columbia.  We celebrated the 3rd of November (separation from Columbia) in my community last week.  There was a parade with so many people in it that there was hardly anyone left to watch it.  I also joined in the marching up near the front of the line, representing Peace Corps.  Before the marching started the entire community sang the national anthem.  I didn't actually know the words so I pretended to sing.  It reminded me of the time when I was helping teach a ninth grade English class in the school.  The teacher randomly asked me to sing my national anthem in front of the class.  She wanted them to practice listening to English.  I was not prepared for this.  I told her I wasn't much of a singer, but she insisted.  As I was singing I remembered there are some really high notes in there.  It was a struggle.  Then the teacher asked me to translate the entire song into Spanish.  Everything is a lot harder when you're standing in front of a bunch of giggling teenagers.  I don't think I'm cut out for that, I don't know how teachers do it.  Speaking in front of adults in the community is a lot easier.

The kids representing all the cultural groups of Panama

The parade marched around town

The 3rd of November celebration was sort of like our 4th of July, except instead of fireworks and burgers we had loud drums and arroz con pollo.  American holidays here have been pretty disappointing so far, since generally nothing special happens.  I forgot about Halloween until the day of, when I realized what the date was.  Fortunately Thanksgiving will not be forgotten, since I'll be celebrating with other volunteers who are making all the traditional Thanksgiving food.  Not sure how my stomach will react to that sudden change in diet, but hopefully it will be worth it.

More pictures...

Helping make some arroz con pollo with the women

Lesson Learned

Lately it seems that every time I come into Panama City it means bad news.  The only times I had made the long trek to civilization before this weekend were to seek medical treatment.  This trip was going to be just some time spent with long lost friends from the other side of the country.  And then somebody decided to swipe my bag when I got to the bus terminal in the city.  So there went pretty much all the things I didn´t want to lose: backpack, laptop, ipod, passport, ATM card, money, clothes, and my brand new toothbrush.  That sort of dampened the mood for me.  Thankfully I had the support of my fellow volunteers around me, who lent me some money, gave me food to eat, and let me squeeze into their hotel room.

I was surprisingly calm about it, even though it seemed like I should be freaking out.  But it seemed that God gave me peace through everything.  In the end it was just a bunch of stuff, and although a huge pain for me, not that big of a deal.  After making trips to the police station, bank, American Embassy, Peace Corps office, and the store to try and replace the essentials, I settled down to hang out with the other volunteers.  Always a new adventure, another lesson to learn.

The houses we're recycling to build my bachelor pad



Things are a lot less stressful out in the jungle.  I was hoping to return to my community more quickly, partly to get started on a community environmental health survey.  The other reason is because I want to get going on my new house.  Although much later than I hoped, we finally started building it.  After much discussion about cutting trees for lumber and waiting for the moon to be right (apparently that has a significant effect on the quality of wood that is cut), the community decided to instead recycle the materials from some old abandoned houses.  Which was fine with me, we can save a few trees and already have almost all the wood we need right there.

I went to help Lino take the houses apart, but when it came to the thatch roof I decide to watch from below.  I feared for his life as he climbed to the top and started chopping off the leaves he was standing on with a machete, about 25 feet up.  He would cut the vines holding them together and slide down to the next row.  Apparently the type of wood that was used is quite durable, so almost all of it was still in good shape despite being submerged in a major flood.  Although most of the lumber has been dismantled now, the task remains of carrying it all up the hill to my little patch of cleared out land.  This will probably be a good test of patience, as I have no idea how long it will take to finish and finally be able to live on my own.

This technique is not OSHA approved

The aftermath of our roof demolition





Just Give It Some Time

It's a never ending job clearing brush around town

Talking with other volunteers who have been here in the Darien for a while, I realize there’s this shift in thinking about our time here in Panama.  I’m not sure when it happens, but apparently you go from looking at your service as a break from your “real life” in the States, to actually living life in Panama.  Right now I still feel kind of like I just fell out of a plane and landed in the Panamanian jungle, left trying to figure out what’s happening.  But I can see down the road how this will all become so familiar.  It will become home.

Seeing how I’ve been living in my community for less than three months, I still have a lot to learn.  Every day is a learning opportunity.  Like how to wash your clothes in a river, or what brand of peanut butter not to buy when in the city.  The process of figuring out how to live here is a fun challenge, and exhausting at the same time.  I just realized that I am completely unprepared to move out of my host family house, which is supposed to be happening in the next week or so.  Essential things like a stove, dishes, rat proof food containers, a machete, and a mattress are all things I do not own.  The good news is we haven’t started building my house yet.  Actually that’s the bad news. 

The main thing I’ve been trying to learn is how people function in Nuevo Vigía.  Honestly I still really haven’t figured out what people actually do every day.  I mean they are usually doing something related to farming or preparing food, but it’s not the structured kind of daily routine I’ve been so hammered into my whole life.  The days seem to blend together since time is not that much of an issue.  I often forget what day it is.  One time I told my host mom what the date was and she said, “It’s September?  Well, there went August…” 

 

Maestra Elida with her kindergarteners in a row

It makes me think about how much time can seem to own us.  I certainly want to make the best of each day, but I also don’t want to be thinking of everything in terms of time and deadlines and schedules.  Maybe my brain will soon start to shift.

Learning Something New

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!”

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.