Four months (July 17)!

            I have a house!  A really nice one, actually, and sometimes it makes me feel guilty.  Peace Corps volunteers are supposed to live in one room wooden houses with an outhouse and no electricity, not a three bedroom concrete house with flush toilet, four hammocks and a fridge.  But I have decided not to complain, because this was literally the safest and most economical house in my community to rent.  And I have already made friends with my neighbor´s dogs, so they come and hang out every once in a while.  I also have a calf in my front yard that moos at 5:30 every morning (it belongs to my neighbor) and there are plenty of chickens running around making a racket every morning (also my neighbor´s).  What I don´t have (much to my frustration) is my cat.  This will be necessary soon, because when I am by myself at night, having a cat for company alleviates silly fears and loneliness.

            I have been here four months now, and in the past month I had my community analysis meeting.  For the first three months I got to know practically everyone, asked a bazillion questions about the environment and the community, and have been working on a community analysis document to send into my boss.  At the end of those three month, every volunteer in my sector has a meeting with the community to present to them what they learned (we played a very competitive and loud game of jeopardy) and discuss what projects and activities I, as their volunteer, would do with them for the next two years.  A good showing to these sorts of meetings is typically 20 to 30 people, but I am very proud to say that 50 plus people attended!  It was, in fact, a very successful meeting, and I felt very loved by the people who came (let´s be honest, who wants to walk 30 minutes with a chance of rain to a meeting after a long day of work?)  The meeting was also really good because I now have a direction to head in.

            I have been working a lot at the school, primarily in the subject of agriculture.  We planted green beans, cucumber and sweet pepper, and although the sweet pepper has yet to make a showing, the green beans and cucumber are coming along pretty well.  Of course, we are now facing our first pest: leaf-cutter ants.  These ants cut up leaves and carry them back to their nest where they cultivate a fungus, which they then eat.  In an objective sense, they can be seen as farmers, just like my community members, but in reality they are responsible for massive amounts of defoliation in the tropics, including our precious, green bean seedlings.  Today I went to check on the garden and all that was left of one of the plants was the tiny stem.  So we are in search of effective and environmentally-friendly means of completely destroying the ants´ nest.

            Also, a soccer update: the muchachos have started passing the ball to me!  I think I impressed them when I dribbled the ball for the first time, instead of just kicking it frantically to the nearest teammate.  Slowly but surely I am eking my way into their hearts.

First (and last? Fingers crossed) ailment

Well, I’ve had my first Peace Corps ailment.  It started out as a bunch of bug bites all over my legs, so I didn’t think anything was unusual when it started to turn into a rash, even when my host family told me it looked infected or like an allergic reaction.  I thought it was just a usual reaction to foreign bug bites.  But as the rash started to spread over the bug bites and break out in places where the bug bites never were, and my host family continued to be concerned, I finally called the Peace Corps Medical Office.  As Peace Corps Volunteers, if we are going to do anything medical related, like go to a doctor, we have to call the med office first.  We also can only go to certain doctors that have been approved as legitimate medical providers. 

Here in Panama there is a lot of traditional medicine practiced.  For example, you shouldn’t expose yourself right after heat.  This means you can’t open your fridge after ironing, you can’t shower after walking in the heat of the afternoon, and you need to cool down before you can go swimming.  It also means a lot of herbal remedies and teas.  And Vicks is their febreeze – it is used for everything from colds to headaches to bug bites.  So, if I need medical attention, I have to go to a clinic in my provincial capital, an hour and a half bus ride away.  There I was told that despite my fears of leishmaniasis, it looked more like an allergy, and I was given medicine and a cream.  Now, three weeks later, my rash is going away, though the marks remain and people keep putting in their two cents about what caused it or what I should do to make it better.  I also have to put up with people telling me how concerned they are that my beautiful legs will be forever marred by the marks, and have I told my boyfriend yet that I don’t have pretty legs anymore?  I just tell them that it’s a good souvenir from my time in Panama.

Fashion Limbo

As Peace Corps volunteers, we frequently manage a balance between integrating into the Panamanian culture and following Panamanian expectations and maintaining our own North American identity and image.  This means that my new native language is Spanglish, my cooking is a mash up between Panamanian cuisine and my North American cuisine, and I wear clothes I would never wear in the U.S. without quite fitting into Panamanian fashion either.  On the one hand, it means I can’t really go wrong: if a North American sees me, they will give me the benefit of the doubt and realize I have different shopping options here; if a Panamanian sees me, they will also give me the benefit of the doubt, because I’m a foreigner.  On the other hand, I have a really hard time finding clothes in my size.  There are a lot of clothes here that I really like, but people here are generally a lot smaller.  It was never easy to find shoes I liked in my size, but now it’s even harder.  The fact that the average sizes are smaller, combined with the really low prices, means that I settle for buying clothes I would never buy because they are only $3 or $4.

            I did realize the other day that women here purposely buy really tight clothes, even if they are not the most flattering by North American standards.  When women want to dress up for special events, they wear tight jeans with sequins or rhinestones, high-heeled sandals, tight “cute” shirts (also with sequins, rhinestones and, frequently, English phrases or words), and coordinating makeup, accessories and makeup.  However, a lot of women have what they call llantas (“tires” in Spanish), or what we might call muffin-tops.  Some llantas, according to a member of my community, are the size of a bicycle while others are the size of a taxi, but all women have one.

            A few weeks ago, my host mom wanted me to try on a pair of jeans, certain that they would fit me.  After looking at the size, I told her they wouldn’t since they were two sizes too small; however, after she insisted I at least try them on, I managed to squeeze into the jeans.  I emerged from my room to show them the jeans, the zipper and button strained closed from the difficult task I had asked of them, thinking that this would prove to my host family that I was right.  Instead?  “¡Qué bonita!”  “How pretty!  The jeans fit you so well!  Turn around, look at how pretty they fit you!”  Well, I was pretty floored by their reaction, and so showed them how these jeans accentuated my llanta, but they told me I just needed to cover it with a shirt.  And how pretty I would look if I put on color-matching makeup!

            So although I realize that my looser wide-legged jeans probably look a little shabby and messy for my Panamanian family, I refuse to wear jeans that tight, if for no other reason than because it is way too hot for me to stand wearing tight jeans.  And so, I am finding a balance between what I am willing to wear and what I am willing to just blame on my strange North American fashions.

Transitions

I am now more than two months into my service and I have (hopefully less than) a month left at my host family.  I really do love my host family – they treat me with respect, let me serve my own food, and I feel really comfortable talking to them about anything – but as someone who has essentially lived in her own house for the past four years, I am ready to have my own space.  I want to have my own kitchen so I don’t have guard my peanut butter and dark chocolate Nature Valley bars in my room.  I want to be able to choose what I eat, or choose not to eat if I am too full from previous meals.  I want to sprawl my stuff all over my house and play my music on speakers rather than earphones.  I want to choose to spend time with people and have the freedom to lay in a hammock by myself without being bothered.  I’m ready for my own house.  Unfortunately, as I write this the housing issue won’t be resolved for at least another week, since I need to have Peace Corps see the potential houses and approve that they have the appropriate level of security and privacy.  Not to mention, I still technically can’t live on my own for another three weeks.  So I’m just hanging out, looking on the bright side of having a host family.  For example, there is always delicious food and fruit lying around the house without me having to go forage for it on my own.  My host sisters are responsible for all the cleaning, so any cleaning I do is seen as generous rather than necessary.  And, of course, I have a group of friends to watch my novela with every weeknight.

This past week was also my first regional meeting, which is where all the volunteers in my region of the country get together to stay updated and network.  It was really great to hang out with a bunch of Peace Corps volunteers because, out of everyone in the world, we can relate to each other more than anyone else.  It was an opportunity to relax, talk about Panama, Panamanians, Peace Corps and each other, and eat whatever we wanted.  However, after the mini-vacation, it was really hard to transition back to my community, especially when I don’t have my own house.  It took me a few days to realize what I was doing here, since my schedule is so flexible and self-determined.  As I have been told by everyone in Peace Corps, whenever you feel off, the best thing to do is get out and go talk to people in your community, and I definitely agree.

Settling in

Things are still going well here.  Rainy season is trying to start, but there are still periods where it doesn’t rain for a few days.  I have found that I love rainy season – the rain is soothing (even the downpours or aguaceros), everything gets cooler, and it gives a good excuse to stay home.  Though I have been trying to visit people in spite of the rain.  I have also eaten quite a few mangos and avocadoes in the past few weeks, and I am delighted to say that both mango and avocado season are just getting started.  Last weekend, I experimented with different mango recipes (mango chicken, mango bread, mango ice, mango juice, mango salsa – pictures coming soon!), all of which turned out pretty well and impressed my host family.  I also made banana bread, but with a banana called guineo manzano (that tastes a lot like green apples) and the banana bread ended up tasting like green apple bread!  This weekend I am going to try mango crisp.  (I would like to thank my grandmother for the idea of substituting mango into peach and apple recipes, and my mother and sister for providing me recipe proportions over the phone when I didn’t have internet.)

I continue to visit people in the community (pasearing).  The past two weeks I’ve been too busy to get around everywhere, and this week I realized my absence was noticed when everyone told me in one way or another that I had abandoned them.  Even the soccer guys, who never really talked to me when I played, said I had disappeared.  Being the only gringa in the community means that I am kind of a celebrity.  While this has its perks (I am constantly given fruit and eggs, served the biggest and best portion of food before anyone else, and given rides when I am walking home), it also means that I get a lot of attention, people expect more of me, and I have to eat everything I am given, even if that means two lunches everyday and food I don’t like.

I have been going to the school and am slowly working on developing a work plan with the principal and teachers.  I’ve also been going to a lot of birthday parties, so I’ve been eating a lot of arroz con pollo, potato salad and birthday cake.  And this week I started working in the field planting name (yams?).  I figured that if I am going to try and introduce organic agricultural methods, I need to gain respect as a hard agricultural worker.  It is back-breaking labor, but extremely satisfying for me to work with my hands outside.  While I was working, they told me I should have brought my camera to take a picture to show you all, and when I came home my host dad bragged about all the work I did to my host mom.  One farmer here keeps bees, and I am starting to become his go-to when he needs help since I am one of the few people not afraid of being stung.

One of my biggest challenges right now is time management – deciding which activities I should be doing.  As an incurable achiever, I always feel like I should be everywhere at once.  If I am at the school, I feel like I should be pasearing.  If I am pasearing, then I think I should be reading Peace Corps literature and researching projects.  If I am reading Peace Corps literature, then I feel like I should be working in the fields.  If I am working in the fields, then I feel like I should be working with my local agencies.  If I am working with my local agencies, then I feel like I should be spending more time with my host family.  If I am spending time with my family, then I feel like I should be at the school.  It’s a deadly cycle and sometimes it really stresses me out, because I also need to take time to myself and relax every once in a while.  I love to lay in my hammock and read, cook while it’s raining, pick and eat fruit with my host family, or go to the river.  And of course, at 7:30 I am always at home watching my favorite telenovela, Una Maid en Manhattan (I am happy to report that it does not disappoint novela fans).  So although I am constantly busy, I feel like I am never getting everything I want done.  I am extremely happy here, though – I think I am starting to really become a part of the community (based on the birthday invitations, this is true at least).

I also have a cat!  Or rather, I will have a cat.  A while back, I shared with a family that I wanted to get a cat, and their daughter (who lives in a neighboring community) told me about a man who had kittens and that she would save me a kitten for when I have my own house.  So when I saw her at a birthday party, she told me she had saved a kitten for me, though it is still too young.  I haven’t met him yet, but she says he is yellow with brown spots.  I am really excited!  Next, I have to get a dog.