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/

Meet: Jorge Guerra (Head of my host family)

Jorge was the first person I met from my community. He traveled several hours by bus to pick me up at our counterpart conference and took me to Cerro Iglesias for my first visit way back in May. He met me as a favor for his father, who was originally supposed to be my community guide (before he found a job that moved him out of the community). I have now been living with his family for nearly 2 months and he has opened up substantially since those first awkward days. Most mornings he is up and about by 5am. While his wife, Liliana, is getting the 5 kids ready for school and attending to the infant, he is usually chopping wood for cooking or sharpening his machete to get ready for work. All day, every day, he is working. He dedicates himself to the production of corn, rice, beans, coffee and more recently, ají peppers. Jorge only went to school until 6th grade, as did most men his age in Cerro Iglesias, but he is a smart man. He spent a few years working outside of the Comarca, as a migrant worker on Latino farms in the fertile region of Chiriquí. He also spent a short time working in construction in Panama City, but says he prefers life in the campo because it is more tranquil: less noise, pollution and more room for the children to run around. Basically, he chose to work his family’s land because he did not want to work for the ‘man’; not an easy path by any means. Similar to most New Yorkers I know, Jorge works hard, but plays even harder. After a week of long days in the field, he will get together with his buddies and they will drink themselves silly on homemade chicha fuerte. These gatherings, usually Sundays, are planned in advance, because it takes several days to for corn to turn into alcohol. They will sit in front of the house under the mango tree, sometimes as early as 7am, and stay there until the liquor runs dry or they pass out. (The women, for the most part, do not drink). Can you blame him?

During the week, Jorge is constantly trying to keep up with the different crops he has planted and finding ways to put food on the table. The ají project, if successful, will be one of the only ways (aside from the coffee harvest) that he has to earn a living for his family. He is very dedicated to his family, in ways that somewhat defy the stereotypical ‘machismo’ description of Latin American men. In the evenings, he spends quality time with his 6 children. We usually sit with the kids and chat or help them with their homework. He quizzes them on multiplication while I help the older ones with English and reading comprehension. What Jorge wants more than anything is for his children learn English. (That goes for about every Panamanian I’ve met). It is hard for me to imagine that learning English is more important than basic math skills and Spanish literacy, but I do the best I can to mitigate the Panamanian fascination with learning English.

Despite the stresses of his life, Jorge has been gracious enough to take me in and live with his family during my first few months in Cerro Iglesias. I have already shared many unforgettable moments with Jorge and his family. Although there have been some tough and/or awkward situations, the overwhelming majority has been positive. Living with this family has been an incredible learning experience for me and a very important part of coming to understand the local culture. I just hope I can return the favor in more ways than teaching kids English...

(photo of Jorge with his 9 mo old son who they just call "Bebe". Photo by Arden Sherman)

When the peanut butter runs out

July is a tough month in the Comarca. There is a saying that goes something like: "Señor Julio le roba la pila" (Mr. July robs the pot). July and August is the time just between the harvests and there is not much paid work for unskilled farmers, so families struggle to put food on the table. It’s not nearly as bad as a true famine that parts of the African continent must experience, but nonetheless, it makes for a stressful time for poor Panamanian families.

I was feeling a little guilty about not spending enough time with my host family, so I decided to go work out in the field with them one day. Our task: plant 1200 aji plants. Jorge has been trying to finish planting 15,000 aji plants on a hectare of land. There is an aji planting craze in my community right now because of the new contract with Tobasco (yes, like the sauce) that is buying peppers for export. After a full day of working in the intense sun followed by a torrential downpour, and only eating a few oranges from the nearby tree, I was starved. A few nights had gone by over the past weeks with no dinner. When this happened, I would go back to my hut and snack on a secret stash of (crunchy) peanut butter and crackers - my new staple. The peanut butter had recently run out, leaving me feeling anxious about how to control those desperate moments of hunger. I realize that this all sounds completely ridiculous especially when my host family just goes to bed hungry (although I have a sneaking suspicion that the kids were fed by the grandparents). I will contest that their bodies are more accustomed to not eating as often as most gringos. We are notorious snackers and I am the worst of them. If I had time, I’d look up some hard facts to support this claim. Anyway, as we were leaving the field in the afternoon, we stopped to harvest some yucca planted along the trail. Yucca is a tuber and requires ripping out the plant from the ground and collecting the roots, similar to a potato but with a thicker trunk. This delicious starch provides virtually no nutritional content, but serves its purpose as a filler. As we started pulling up the plants, looking for roots, they were still stuck deep in the ground and we had no tools for digging. So, I got down on all fours with my 12 yr old host brother and started digging for dinner. I was so exhausted, dehydrated and hungry, but was furiously clawing at the soil with all my might. Half laughing at myself, it suddenly occurred to me that this is what happens when the peanut butter runs out: subsistence living. Perhaps this was a fine lesson in integration. We are now more than half-way through August, and are enjoying the new harvests of corn and rice, so things are much less stressful. The other day they killed over 100 chickens in town to sell and my family got the heads to cook for dinner. I had to decline. Looking back, I should have at least tried the chicken-head soup, but I had a full jar of peanut butter and crackers waiting for me back in my hut. Maybe next time.

Highlight of the week: meeting the honey bees!

Here is what I have read about the Africanized honey bees that we have in Panama (and in most parts of Central America):

“Africanized bees acquired the name killer bees because they will viciously attack people and animals who unwittingly stray into their territory, often resulting in serious injury or death.

It is not necessary to disturb the hive itself to initiate an Africanized honey bee attack. In fact, Africanized bees have been know to respond viciously to mundane occurrences, including noises or even vibrations from vehicles, equipment and pedestrians.

Though their venom is no more potent than native honey bees, Africanized bees attack in far greater numbers and pursue perceived enemies for greater distances. Once disturbed, colonies may remain agitated for 24 hours, attacking people and animals within a range of a quarter mile from the hive.”

Victoria, the master beekeeper and president of the artisan group, invited me to meet the bees this week. We met at 7am because the meanest bees are usually out gathering pollen at that time. She dressed me up in a ridiculous bee suit that made me look like a giant marshmallow. I wish I had a photo of this. We hiked out for about 15 minutes into the jungle to a safe distance away from civilization to reach the hives. Just a few yards away, she stopped to tell me that, because I was new, I would more than likely be attacked. She added that these bees were incredibly smart and would be able to get into my suit and/or sting me through it. It is not in my nature to turn back, but I was seriously considering it this time. Victoria, a devote Christian, suggested a prayer and for the first time in my life, I was more than happy to join in. Moments later, I was surrounded by millions (or maybe just thousands) of furious bees. Every drop of sweat that came rushing down my face felt like bees crawling on me. Terrifying! Deep breathing was the only thing that kept me calm (perhaps the ultimate yoga experience?). We used a smoker to supposedly calm the bees while we feed them a sugary-water mix. When it was all over, I de-suited without a single sting! Victoria commented that the bees had treated me very well and each time I go back they will be nicer. Bee keeping can be a lucrative business for this group if they can continue to have healthy bees. Each hive produces $100 dollars of honey per year. I want to work with this group to get their organic product sold in smaller bottles to tourists in nearby towns. The honey harvest will not be for several months, however, so there is time to plan.

Other highlights:
- A few volunteers from nearby sites hiked over to Cerro Iglesias to celebrate my birthday with me! We made a delicious no-bake peanut butter cheesecake that turned out amazing. It is astounding what one can still do without electricity!

- I have an official Ngäbe name! Mego. Pronounced: meh-gough. I know, it doesn’t sound very feminine, but it has become my new identity. It’s growing on me. A community leader gave me this name after the late corregidora (mayor), who was the first woman leader of the district many decades ago. They tell me that she was a very powerful and respected lady, so who can argue the name with a story like that?

- Discovered a nearby river with fun rockslides, waterfalls and swimming holes!

- Have spent a lot of time working in the children’s nutrition center garden. We have been using all natural techniques to improve the soil quality, which will hopefully serve as a good example (granted everything grows) for those who only believe in the power of chemicals.

- Homemade chocolate experiment! I finally found ripe cacao pods and am in the 2-week process of fermenting, drying, peeling and grinding the seeds. With a little sugar and spice it should turn out to be some delicious chocolate. Yum!

(photo: nearby views in the Comarca)