P.S.

Fotos of the kids from my coop to come...

One Year Down, One To Go

The end of October marked the half-way point of my volunteer service. For one year, I've been living and working in my community and lately I've been thinking a lot about what I've done so far and what I want to do in the following year. I've faced a lot of challenges, and not just the snake in the latrine type stuff. That, I expected. What I didn't expect is just how much cultural vales and norms would affect my work.

“Cultural exchange.” It sounds fun, right? Eating new food, learning new dances, and working alongside people of another culture may come to mind. That's the type of stuff I visualized before coming here. But those images make up the fairy tale of development work. It's really a whole lot tougher.

The biggest challenge I've faced while working has been with the adults involved in the youth cooperative I work with. Although it seems that the point of the group would be to teach kids basic business skills and inspire them to work in cooperatives, most people here think otherwise. Officially, the members are youth, but each member has a parent who must attend meetings and work days. All the while, the kids do NOTHING.

My American ideas clash with the general Panamanian understanding of working with youth. The youth here aren't respected like they are back home. No one tells them, “You can do it,” or trusts them. The idea of empowering them is completely unknown. I've seen plenty of parents sit down and do their kid's homework, and a 3rd grade teacher once told me that at the age of 8 kids “just can't think.” In the States, kids are encouraged to run lemonade stands, get their hands dirty and try new things, and learn as much as they can. What matters is that they experiencing new things and build their confidence. Trying to replicate that type of youth work here hasn't gotten me very far.

The teachers and parents don't understand my American approach to youth work. I've taught the kids to run meetings and organized projects that train them to work as a team, but the parents have been focused on money and that they're losing their influence on the group. One mother said, “I don't agree with CoCo. She thinks the kids should do the work, but that's our [the adults] work.” I almost fell over with shock and left that meeting angry, hurt, and frustrated. How can I feel good about my work here if the locals don't appreciate it? The kids have fun and are learning, true, but their parents and teachers want something else. They want me to do their paperwork and bring them sacks of gringo money. And that's just not why I'm here.

I've been thinking about what all of this means. Where is my service going? I have another year to go, and I'm don't know if I'm so excited about that. Not because I don't like it here. My village is beautiful and I've made some great friends. I love eating Pineapples like Apples and never wearing shoes. But the work is HARD. It's tiring to constantly push along my work with the kids, only to have the adults complain about what I saw as achievements. So I'm trying to plan out the next year and figure out what I can do that includes the kids and both the adults and I will see as valuable. This year, I've learned that I can't just jump into projects thinking that my community members will see their value. My values and their values are based on our very different cultures. Until I can find and highlight some commonalities between the two, I'm not going to get anywhere. So I need to take a step back, breath, and start again.

Looking back on this year, there's plenty of highs and lows. People will ask things like, “Are you happy there?” after reading my blog. Those questions always suprise me, because I love my life here. Being a development worker isn't easy, but it is an amazing, once-in-a-lifetime experience. The challenges are huge, but the payoffs are too. Those fairy tale images of development work do exist. Walking into the school and hearing a hundred little kids yell my name is Panamanian accents always puts a smile on my face. And working with my Girl Scouts makes me excited that some of my girls will try to achieve their dreams. Just today, I was working at my kitchen table when kids came by to go to the waterfall behind my house. After awhile, I gave in and joined them. I've learned to appreciate the laid-back culture here (that I may have at one point called laziness). Panamanians really do know how to enjoy life. As I floated on my back in the water and looked up at the jungle canopy above, I thought to myself, “Do I really live here?” And I smiled to myself because the answer most definitely is, and will be for another year, yes.

The Panama Bochinche Press


“What's bochinche?” you may ask. Well that's Panamanian for “gossip.” Here hard core bochinche is looked down upon, but everyone loves to tell you about so-and-so's sick mother or new washing machine. So, I know you're not supposed to do it, but come on,everybody's doing it.

The Panty Thief
Extra! Extra! Read all about it! There's a panty thief on the loose!!! Yes, you read that correctly, someone is stealing underwear from the clothesline. MY underwear. And in a country where good underwear is hard to find, that's a huge deal. So I'm down to 5 pairs now, and washing a dirty pair has become a morning ritual for me. You all ask what I want in care packages...well, now you know. (I'm a medium.)

The Gringa Invasion
Gringas have been invading my campo town, eating up all the fonda's hojaldres (fried dough) and driving the boys wild. Thanks to Kelly, Camille, Crystal, Preeti, Frank, and Lynne, who all visited me this month. Y'all reminded me how beautiful and amazing my life is here. And I had a ton of fun. Oh, and the gifts were amazing. I'm eating Trader Joe's regularly these days.

And That Makes A Year
While the gringas were busy living the tropical life for a few weeks, I was busy celebrating my one year anniversary of the tropical life. That's right, I've been here over a year now. It hasn't seemed like a whole year at all. It's going by quickly. BUT there have been ups and downs. Here's the story of a one year anniversary DOWN:

As I hit one year in country I thought, “I'm so lucky. I have friends who've dealt with butt fungus, machete wounds, amoebas, skin eating disease and more. Yet I haven't had to go to the doctor even once. Oh lucky me. I am invincible.” Or not. The night of my one year anniversary it hit. Stomach pain kept me up all night. I felt like I was going to die. I don't know that I've ever felt worse. The next day, I moved into the bathroom, permanently. Finally, I called my doctor and she sent me to the lab. Duh duh duh. Stool test. Well, you try shooting acid butt pee into a jar with an opening the size of a half-dollar. It just doesn't work. Anyway, after days of near death I started taking anti-parasite drugs and started to feel better. So don't worry, I'm almost back to normal.

Getting Down and Dirty
Well if that wasn't dirty enough for you, here's some really dirty bochinche. Literally. I've been working on a plant project with the youth cooperative. It's been fun preparing the area and soil with the kids and getting covered in dirt from head to toe. Totally worth the cold shower I have to take afterward. We're setting up a nursery to grow medicinal and decorative plants and then we hope to sell them at the festivals in town that are coming up.

Speaking of Festivals...
I recently went to my friend Rob's site (gringas in tow) for his Patronales. That's the town's patron saint festival. The main event was bull fighting. Not the attack the animal with spears type, though. Here, the men get in a big plaza and let out bulls, one by one. The bulls run around and the men play chicken. Some run at the bull and try to ride it, others runs the other way when it gets near. The women all are on the edges (other side of the fence or wall) and scream when the bull comes near . I got in the plaza for a bit, but after two bulls I was done. I didn't really feel like having my face smashed in.

So What's Next?
I'm working on the plant project, working with my Girl Scout troop (hopefully we'll swear-in as official Scouts soon), planning some things for the group of new arrivals' training, training some youth to compete in a project exhibition, counting down the days until I come home to visit (Dec. 16), and whatever else comes up. Here, things always do...

good things about the rainy season...


yes, good things do come out of the rainy season here in panama. i know i bitch about it (a lot), but the truth is that when you look past the moldy clothes, muddy feet, and excessive bug bites everything is actually very beautiful. everything that was dry and brown all summer turns lush and green. the sunrises and sunsets are beautiful because there are clouds rolling in pre- or post-storm. and...MANGOS! rainy season means all sorts of cool tropical fruits. including mangos. i have 3 different types of mango trees in my back yard, and all in all have tried about 7 different kinds so far. i really am enjoying stuffing myself with mangos daily. getting sick of them? no way. keep em coming.


so, that's all i have to say for now. i figure y'all really want to see pictures anyway. so here are some links to a ton of fotos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2327219&l=c4115&id=1203709

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2329965&l=027b8&id=1203709

reasons to love panama


1. the lack of professionalism. that may sounds like a bad thing. and yes, it does really frustrate me when people show up to a meeting an hour late or the 3rd grade teacher tells me i look sexy. but something happened the other day to make me like this aspect of panamanian culture. i was in my provincial capital and there was a political rally going on for one of the presidential candidates. there were all these people in a crowd and very large speakers set up. blasting what you may ask? blasting reggaeton. now if you know me at all, you know there was a big smile on my face. and that got me to thinking...imagine a bush or clinton rally blasting 50 cent.

2. recklessness. i know i have written before about the amazingness of a machete. but here's another story that warms my heart. i was walking around a small beach town the other day and saw the 2 cutest little boys of about 3 or 4. they were picking up and eating mangoes that had fallen off the trees that line the dirt road. all very cute, no? then along came their 5 year old brother, swinging a machete at them as their dad sat nearby and said nothing. hmmm...

3. another story of recklessness. back in january i was sitting on the front porch of my host family's house reading a book. my host brother and his cousins were playing out front. and by playing, i clearly mean lighting things on fire. they climbed up a tree and lit it on fire. all the dry palms began to burn, and then dry branches. the fire started to get pretty large when the kids all decided to go swimming down at the river and took off. and there i was, a paranoid little gringa with a potential forest fire on her hands, thinking what am i supposed to do? and then the answer came to me. clearly, i was supposed to ignore it.

so anyway, panamanians are are fearless, i just don't give a $%@*, sort of people. sometimes it drives you crazy, but sometimes you really admire it. or, you're just entertained.

the [bugs] come out at night.

last night as i sat in my house i realized it was under attack. around every light bulb was a swarm of 10-15 bugs. there were also various bugs on the floor, many of which i have never seen before. every 5 minutes i was sweeping them out of the house until i realized i was getting no where. as i fell asleep i heard the constant hum of hundreds of little wings flapping. it could only mean one thing...

summer is officially over. sunny, breezy days are no more. back are the hot and humid mornings and heavy storms. soon, i'll begin to wake up early every morning to check the sky and see if i can wash my clothes. walking anywhere will mean being soggy and covered in mud. everything i own (and i mean EVERYTHING: books, underwear, rice, my bed...) will smell like mold. and with winter come all of these bugs. my legs will once again look like a polka-dot mess. (see one of my posts from november to view a foto of such legs.) basically, life will get harder.

the summer was always my favorite season back home and here i love it even more. summer was like being on vacation from life. i forgot what it was really like to live in the tropics last august-december. now, i am begining to remember again. and it makes me miss home. it makes me remember how lucky we are there. only in coming to live in panama did i realize that living in the tropics isn't always like living in paradise. sometimes (if not most of the time), it's like living in a big swamp.

p.s. i still love it.

and here are pictures from the school's 81st anniversary celebration in my town.

the night before, they have a parade and all the kids have "torchas." they're paper lanterns with a candle inside. some start flaming a bit. kids and fire. very safe.

some of the 7th grade girls at the parade.

day of the anniversary. the conjunto folklorico performing.

girls dancing.

tamales the coop made to raise money.

as promised, more pics




mom at the mall








the beach near my house








on the interamerican - 3 watermelon for $1!








getting indiginous tats








a diablo rojo (bus) in panama city