A place to call home

In October, when I moved from a host family into the former volunteer’s homemade hut, I decided that the humble abode wouldn’t make it much longer and that a new house must be built. My vision was simple. Just a typical Ngäbe house made out of bamboo walls and thatch roof, much smaller than the current house and in a better location that includes a view of the Pacific. The house will be 12’x8’ with a lofted bed, which is larger than my last apartment, but fairly small as far as houses are concerned. Considering these modest requests, one might think that this small structure could be done in a weekend. Not so fast. That would be un-Panamanian. It seems impossible that since that time we have made such little progress, but hey, this is all part of the learning process, right?

Its very easy to blame the lack of organization and the absence of urgency in this culture, but its more complicated than it appears on the surface. For starters, successful construction only happens in the dry season, so October and November were out for gathering materials. The Ngäbes cut wood (and plant crops) according to the moon cycles. Wood can only be cut here in the second week of the waning moon. On top of that, the tide must be low in order to cut any materials that a house would require, primarily: bamboo, palm leaves (thatch) and straight, strong trees (branches for support beams; trunks for 2x4s). Considering these restrictions, this leaves about 7 days in a month, but only 4 hours in the day to cut the materials. If all of this sounds a bit loco, well, I agree. However, once upon a time, there was another volunteer who didn’t have paciencia (patience) and demanded his wood be cut on a certain date, which happened to fall on a full moon. 3 weeks later, his house was devoured by termites and fell to the ground. So, I’m practicing my patience and holding out in the old hut that is quickly being reclaimed by nature. I haven't decided if I’m living harmoniously with nature here or constantly fighting against her and her nasty creatures.

Finally, in December, when the rains stopped, we were able to cut the materials, in accordance with the moon and the tides, of course. The owner of the land where the new house is to be built and friend of mine, Florentino, was in charge of finding other community members that have the materials growing on their land. The part of Cerro Iglesias where I live is comparatively populated, almost urban in comparison to traditional Ngäbe living arrangements, so materials come from about an hour away. Once the materials are sourced, strong men are hired to cut and haul them on their backs or with a horse to the road. From the road we hired a pickup truck to drive it up to the top of the mountain where I live. These negotiations are sometimes even further complicated by differing ideas of how much material is needed to complete the job. For example, I paid a man $8 to cut the quantity of thatch needed to provide my roof, however, after he had cut what he claimed was enough, other community members told me it was not even half of the amount needed. I ended up paying another $5 for more thatch. So, I guess I paid $13 for my roof. I'm sure this sounds ridiculously cheap, but in the Comarca that is an absolute rip-off.

So far, we have 4 posts in the ground and piles of split bamboo just waiting to be become walls. Florentino tells me that he's had a hard time finding people to work for the competitive wage of $5/day, plus lunch. If that's an indicator of high local employment rate, I guess I cannot argue. But I tend to think it's more of a lack of motivation on his part or perhaps just the complete absence of urgency. So the battle for my idyllic hut in the jungle continues, but is nearing the end. New deadline is February 15.

(Photos of the work in progress)

Happy New Year!

Just like in the States, the end of December and beginning of January is a notoriously unproductive time of year. It’s no different in Panama. Although, we have some strongly devote Christians in Cerro Iglesias, they don’t really celebrate Christmas the way we do in the States. Neither in the commercialized, nor in the religious sense. There is no snow, no caroling, no lights, no nativity scenes, no gifts, no ugly holiday sweater parties with friends. It’s all pretty much the same as usual around here. Other than family members now working in the cities and returning to visit their hometown, there was nothing Christmas-y about being in the Comarca. Panama City, on the other hand, was filled with gaudy Coca-Cola sponsored Christmas trees and oddly placed plastic decorations of a white Santa going down a snowy chimney, with large animals from the north pole parked on the roof. You’d think they would make it more culturally appropriate. Maybe a middle-aged, overweight and drunk Latino man in a red spandex Speedo, with his sombrero and machete, riding in on a horse and bringing bags of rice and sugar to scared little kids? To avoid the non-Christmas-y Christmas in site, I decided to spend the holiday with some friends in the San Blas Islands in the Caribbean. Kuna Yala, to be specific. It was a good choice.




The Kuna are another indigenous group here in Panama that have mostly separated themselves from the Panamanian government but have their support for building roads, schools, etc. They have tactfully learned to exploit their indigenousness and beautiful landscape to attract the adventure traveler, such as myself. I found it the right mix of both cultural and geographic beauty (and not too expensive). The locals even invited us to a “coming of age” party for a young girl in the village. The men made a small, dark tent out of sticks and leaves for the girl to be locked inside of for 5 days, while the town had a big party. The men drink, the women eat and that poor girl remains confined to darkness. How do these brutal traditions get started?

For the New Year, I traveled up to the fun, but touristy islands of Bocas del Toro. Also in the Caribbean, but less beautiful than Kuna Yala, these islands are a cultural melting pot of Afro-Antilleans, Latinos, ex-pats, tourists, and indigenous groups like the Ngabes and Kunas. It was really nice to finally see some diversity, but it’s an expensive place to hang out on a Peace Corps budget. Nonetheless, we had a great time. On New Years day we rented bikes and rode 20km to the other side of the island, stopping to see some bat-filled caves on the way.

Back in Cerro Iglesias, I’m slowly getting back into my routine of working with various groups, primarily the artisan/bee group (honey harvest is just weeks away), the Tabasco pepper farmers (who are looking for funding for a small irrigation pump to be able to harvest peppers in the dry season) and the coffee group (who is filing for the legal documents to obtain a loan and expand their business). I also recently started a knitting group, thanks to another volunteer’s donation of yarn/needles and the expertise of Laura, a dear friend who visited recently. We are 8 ladies strong and they are picking it up fast! Actually, I think they are already better than I am at it. Most of them already crochet colorful purses that everyone uses here (men and women alike) called chackras but they enjoy picking up a new skill. Perhaps we can start a new knitted-bag trend in the Comarca!



(photos of Kuna Yala sail boat, my new knitting group, and the honey bees)

Happy Holidays from the Caribbean!

Since last time I wrote, everything (at least in my region) has dried up! The region of Bocas del Toro is still recovering from the damages from last months floods, however. Where I live, we are officially in summer which means no rain for the next 3 months. My umbrella is now primarily used as a parasol. The days are scortching hot and the nights are relatively freezing. It's a welcoming change from the gloomy rain.

For Christmas, I'm heading out to the beautiful white, sandy beaches of Kuna Yala with a few friends. A pickup truck will drive us from Panama City to the boat launch. They tell us only reachable by 4x4 vehicle and about 4 hrs to get there. Kuna Yala is another indigenous group in Panama that are probably the most famous (there are 7 altogether in the country). Unlike the Ngabes that I live with, the Kuna Yala are extremely organized and set up for tourists. The cover of the Lonely Planet guide to Panama features an island from this region. Pictures coming soon!

Merry Christmas to all!

Be Thankful

Panama is currently suffering from severe flooding, mostly in the Bocas del Toro and Chiriqui regions (including my area of the Comarca Ngobe-Bugle). It hasn’t stopped raining in 14 days. Our director made all volunteers in those areas consolidate to their regional capitals for safety reasons, but many bridges and roads had already been washed away, so some were stuck in their sites. About 20 volunteers are currently working with government and international agencies to help out with the relief effort. Those in communities that have been washed away are being trained in disaster response, as their work will now focus on rebuilding their communities. Cerro Iglesias should be fine because it is high on a mountain and not prone to flooding (unlike my house, which I’m afraid to see).

I am heading back to my site after being gone for 8 days, my longest stint away from Cerro Iglesias since I made it my home 5 months ago. My group reconnected for a required Peace Corps event called in service training. Many months have now passed since those intense first 10 weeks together. When we arrived in Panama we all had different backgrounds and experiences. Now, we share similar hilarious stories about explosive diarrhea, flesh-eating parasites and awkward host family moments. We also visited a few farms to learn more about tropical agriculture topics: Robusta coffee, permaculture techniques, how to vaccinate chickens, etc.

Due to the floods, our original plans to celebrate Thanksgiving in the beautiful mountains of Chiriqui were changed last minute to another touristy mountain town called El Valle del Anton on the other side of the country. It was amazingly well organized given the last minute arrangements and considering that many people were unable to attend due to the weather/response efforts . We had an American-style turkey dinner with all the delicious fixings.

The message I wanted to send home was that I am so thankful for all of my friends and family that are constantly reaching out to support me, no matter where they happen to be in the world. Especially in a time of disaster, like we are having here in Panama, it is important to be grateful for even the basic things like access to clean water and shelter. To my friends and family out there, I am forever grateful to you.

http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/WFP/4072d4281e82e2c593234bc6aa248882.htm

(I met this enormous photogenic pig on a school farm last week)

Todo bien

I've received several emails today from friends and family concerned with the 6.2 earthquake that happened in Panama last night. I had no idea it was that big until I read the report! I was a few hours away from the epicenter, up in the mountains with a few other volunteers giving a seminar about HIV/AIDS to teenagers. We all stayed in the health center and woke up in the middle of the night to a pretty strong rocking and my friend saying "Earthquake! Earthquake! Should we get under the doorway?".  We were all too tired, so no one moved and a few seconds later it was all over. Everything was fine! 

The HIV/AIDS seminar went really well though! I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I actually really like working with kids. More updates on that later, I have to get back to my hut and see if it survived the earthquake. 

Four months in

I’ve been in Cerro Iglesias for 4 months now and in Panama for nearly 7. I should have been updating this blog more in recent months, but in my defense, I’ve needed that time to process my new life before I could reflect on it. Or maybe I’m just lazy.

Recently, my life here has changed, somewhat drastically. Two volunteers that each lived about 15 minutes from me, completed their 2 years and left Cerro Iglesias to travel the world and return to life in the U.S.A. Adam and Jessica were, in their own separate ways, very special to me and pivotal to my integration in this community. They completed some incredible projects and left me with big shoes to fill. I miss them dearly and am so grateful to them for sharing 3 amazing months with me. As sad as I was to be the only gringa in town, life goes on, and my community has only embraced me more since their departure. (maybe they just feel bad for me?) Thanks to so many wonderful people in my community, I have rarely spent a moment feeling lonely or bored.





























I no longer live with a host family, which has been great for my personal space and eating habits. I now cook what I want, when I want. For all that were previously concerned, my peanut butter consumption has been significantly reduced. Cooking has always been a creative outlet for me, so between the limited ingredients and no oven or refrigerator, I’ve been experimenting with all kinds of crazy, half-baked concoctions. I moved into the house that Adam (previous volunteer) built which, I’m sure, in it’s prime, was a fine structure, but is rapidly declining in its livability. After being there for a few weeks, I have decided that building a new house is more practical than fixing the old. It will be constructed out of the same materials (bamboo with thatch roof), but half the size with a big front porch that will overlook the gorgeous Pacific ocean view from my hammock. Finding materials and organizing people to bring them from the forest is proving to be a huge challenge, but it will be worth it. Patience is everything here.



In work-related news, last week, I hosted a 2-day seminar for cacao producers in my area. With the help of fellow volunteers that live on the Caribbean coast of Bocas del Toro, we were able to bring 3 experienced cacao producers that have been trained in the sustainable management of their farms to teach their fellow producers in Cerro Iglesias. We received a small grant and a donation from my local political leader to help make this happen and it was a success!

We are in the height of the rainy season, which also happens to be when the coffee is ripe for picking. The beneficio (where they process the beans) has been busy buying coffee from local farmers that is then de-pulped (by hand), washed (by hand) and dried (in the sun) in the new greenhouse-like structure (secadora) that was built thanks to a grant that Adam received last year. The secadora allows for the coffee beans to dry under a plastic roof which maximizes the little sunshine that we have right now before the coffee molds.

In a few weeks I’ll be giving a charla (like a lecture, only less formal) on safe ways to dispose of the skins of coffee fruit. They are extremely acidic and many times they are disposed of near rivers, causing a lot of pollution. I hope to teach some community members (or at least myself) about how to use these skins to make rich soil compost, which can then be used as a natural fertilizer or soil enhancer.

(Pictures Above: Adam and me with a giant papaya, Me and Jessica lounging in the hammock, My temporary hobbit-esk house, Below: Bocatoreño teaching my community to graft cacao trees, Jorge spreading out the coffee beans to dry in the sun, note new secadora in background)

Hello out there

Cerro Iglesias is a great place to live. So great, in fact, that I have completely neglected updating this blog. I apologize. For now, check out some recent photos, including those from a brief visit to the USofA:

http://flickr.com/photos/53265254@N00/