Carnival

Carnival. Wow. As you might imagine, a holiday packed with tradition was celebrated most jovially on the Azuero Peninsula. They have lots of practice with festivals, and this was no different. Parades, fire crackers, and hordes of people could be seen and heard at all hours of the day and night. Days were highlighted by “culecas” which are any type of tanker truck filled with water and an attached hose is used to spray down crowds. It doesn’t matter if the truck sports “Flammable” warnings from its use just hours earlier carting gasoline. It doesn’t even matter that so much water is used most of the city and certainly surrounding towns go without water for the week in toilets, sinks, etc. Who needs a glass of water to drink when there is alcohol? I suppose that is the thinking anyhow.

So I don’t like crowds. I don’t mind lots of people, but when I am shoulder to shoulder, back to front with countless people, I just don’t like it. Needless to say, Carnival was a little much for me. I was okay the first day. I led my friends through the crowd as we made a loop through the main square. We got wet; we caught t-shirts and bandanas; and ya. That was good enough for me. Pat confronted a pickpocket, though luckily didn’t get anything stolen. None of us were carrying much of value anyhow.

That night we went to a discoteca which was absolutely packed with people as well. The night began (at a little past 11pm) with plenty of room to dance, which we all did. As the night progressed, we were again shoulder to shoulder with people getting progressively drunker in an appropriately dimly lit atmosphere. I checked out early, as I’m just not comfortable in those situations anymore. I did have fun though, but again, that was good enough for me.

The following day my eyes ached from leaving my nice sunglasses at home and not buying a cheap replacement to take out on the streets. I went to the culeca again, but only for about 5 minutes as I just wasn’t feeling it. I also stayed in that night as with as much fun I would have had with everyone and all our other friends who just showed up in town, I wasn’t ready to put myself back in that kind of scene.

But heck, I was running on fumes anyhow with little to no sleep the previous two nights. Having the hostel to myself to get some shut eye was great and needed. Plus the others came back with stories of drama that I am glad I wasn’t a part of. I headed out early the following morning and didn’t have any problems with transportation despite the increase in people traveling.

I had my Muchachas Guías meeting on Tuesday as planned and taught the girls how to knit. Man, not knowing knitting vocabulary made things so much more complicated than anticipated! I ended up spending an hour and a half working with each one in turn. Only about half of them got a couple stitches cast on their needle. In fact, the best one is also my youngest, at 7 years old. (Well, that’s if you don’t count her 4 year old sister who I didn’t even attempt to teach. So much for an age range of 10-14 for the troop!) I then headed up for a birthday party of one of my good friends in town. She just turned 17 and has a boyfriend who has already graduated from the university. I don’t know how I feel about that. But at least their families are both behind the relationship, so she won’t end up like many of the other girls in town: knocked up and single.

I headed up into the mountain the following day. I figured I’d try to GPS the trail we’ll be working on this year with a Biological Corredor grant (fingers crossed!). I had some problems earlier with clouds and canopy blocking reception of satellites, but I figured on a clear day all would be good. I got up there and of course the clouds rolled in. Shucks. I couldn’t get signal at the first waterfall: huge rock face, lots of tree cover, and clouds means no chance at getting a point. Before I reached the second waterfall I got freaked out by Ngobes. A pair asked me for money just as I entered the trail. I said I didn’t have any, which was true, but obviously had the GPS with me as well as a camera and phone in my pack. After passing them and doddering on the trail trying to get signal, I ran into one of them further along. As they know the trails far better than me, it’s no wonder that they passed me. But the fact that the one waited until I passed again, thus sandwiching me in between her and the other who could have been anywhere got my gut rolling. So I turned back, as I figured it was a much smarter thing to do especially since I wouldn’t have been able to map the trail anyhow with the weather.

As I came back out to the road again, I passed a group of men from town, who were on a mission to find the problem in the irrigation aqueduct. They invited me to join them, which I accepted in lieu of my failed hike. We followed the line from the source which was overflowing with water through the monte. A note on Spanish vocabulary, monte is referred to any unmaintained forest or hillside. In this sense, we were bushwhacking through dozens of treefalls, trying to maintain footing on eroded, precipitous embankments, and doing our best not to get stung by spiny trees or wasps. I think I failed on all attempts.

In my most heart racing failure, I slid feet first with my chest facing the mountain about 12 feet, sending memories of Kels’s and my adventure up in Sequoia National Park as I slid down the snowfield uncontrollably. Luckily in this case, another downed tree stopped my descent. And of course the guys were far ahead of me and didn’t even notice: what gentlemen. They didn’t even say anything after I caught up with them and was blanketed with dirt all across my front. Lol

About four hours later, we reached the point where the tubes meet the road without finding a single daño. While there were about three new treefalls ontop of the tubing, none of them cracked the tubes. On our way back into town we found a couple spots where the tubing was filled with air, preventing the flow of water. They guys opened up a couple of new holes in the tubes to let the air out and then plugged them back up with sticks once the water started flowing again. All that for some air! It was a good hike though, and the guys did talk about who would take the blame if something did happen to me, which means that they at least appreciate my being in the community with them.

Next week I’m off to an organic pesticides seminar, followed by mud house building, and a girl Scout training then week after that. Oye! Lots of traveling and being out of site. I’m still chugging along with translating Flying WILD activities. I’ve got about five of them done now, but it sure is time consuming! I can’t wait for Kels, Jeff, Mom, and Dad to visit at the end of the month too!

Busy two weeks!

I feel like I haven't stopped running around in two weeks. PML, Project Management and Leadership, was a week packed with seminars for volunteers and their community counterparts. We received the bulk of the material back in Pre-service Training, so this was geared toward our counterparts. Basically, I babysat for the week. The president of our Padres de Familia, secretary of the conservation group, and position holder of other groups in town backed out at the last minute. As it is the middle of the tomato harvest and planting time, any of the guys in the conservation group who own a farm wouldn’t be able to come. Many of the mothers wouldn’t be able to pawn off their kids at a moment’s notice and would probably have to attend the rescheduled Padres de Familia meeting anyhow.

This left me with Jesus, who is a dedicated student in my Eco-English class and a member of the conservation group. He is a hard worker which I figured would make him the perfect person to take. Boy was I wrong. Now, he was certainly loved by all there. He told some great stories. But I think he got a little intimidated by the other counterparts. Instead of working on the real problems facing the group, he babbled off advice to other groups facing some of the same problems that our group hasn’t even begun to address. Instead of focusing on a single project and carrying it through all the sessions such as writing a letter to an agency or presenting in public, he jumped like a fish out of water hitting everything under the sun. Me: No, we don’t need plastic bags for reforestation, we just filled 5,000 with dirt and still haven’t collected any seeds. Jesus: So we should ask for MORE bags. Me: Ummm, no. (Did I miss something here?) Jesus: Let’s ask for a roof for the basketball court. (This suggestion was followed by a long story about basketball plays and games.) Me: What does that have to do with the conservation group and trail building project that is pending?

I eventually stopped trying to pull him back to conservation topics and the reason I brought him. I know he learned a lot during the week and was certainly proud of what he accomplished and people he met. In the end, that’s all I could hope for. Perhaps his talking about what he learned will spur others in the community to ask questions. And hopefully I’ll be around long enough to clear up anything that he may have missed during his tangents.

The first day of the seminar I celebrated my 24th birthday. I began my day at 7am to pick up Jesus in the chiva to Potrerillos and then David. He informed me when he got in the chiva that he didn’t eat breakfast yet. (He gets up at 4:30am every day, so why would he pick today to skip breakfast?) So I bought him breakfast in David and we got on a bus at nearly 11am. I bought him lunch in Santiago and then we finally arrived at CEDESAM at around 4:30pm. (It seemed more like it was his birthday than my own.) That’s nine and a half hours sitting hip to hip with a Panamanian who reminds me in many ways of my uncle. It was intense. Then we had sessions until 8:30pm!!! Finally I escaped with some great friends to the casino to celebrate my birthday. Kayla made me a delicious cacao cake and everyone in the entire casino sang to me (the Panamanian version of the song of course). It was a great birthday, well worth the long day’s wait.

I had my regional meeting on Friday and a group of us took off for Lost and Found Ecoresort to continue bonding. Volunteers from the Comarca kept us company. Now, for any of you interested in staying at this “resort”, be forewarned that it is most certainly a hostel. There is a steep climb up uneven stairs to reach the place (I’m talking at least 10-20 minutes of huffing up all of your stuff, which for me was a week’s worth of presentable clothes from the seminar.) The dorms, or the one that I saw, consisted of four platforms filled with end to end mattresses for perhaps 20 people. It is a great place for Peace Corps volunteers or those adventurous folks looking for a cool place to crash. It’s not so much a place for parents or those accustomed to a little more comfort. I was actually in the “house”, which they told me was their new addition. It is actually just an old house, in the middle of two others a hike away from the main hostel and common area. There was nothing special about the house, and I’d suggest trying to stay in the main hostel if you get the chance. We did see capuchin monkeys on the morning walk back to the hostel, so perhaps for no other reason, it was worth it to stay out there.

Upon my return to town, I had a meeting with the mom’s sending their daughters with me to Girl Scout camp which went well. And the following day I had a meeting with the conservation group, which went… okay. It turned out that we needed to get all the paperwork for the Biological Corredor grant in by the following day, so I arrived at 7am to start cracking on it. (Mind you, I had scheduled a meeting weeks before to get it done, which the group then canceled on me without telling me.) Anyhow, we got a lot accomplished and I left at around 3pm to print off maps and letters that we would need. I then handed the three maps and three letters to the member of the group who said he would be responsible for it all. All he had to do was get three more signatures from members of the group and get the letters signed by the president and secretary who are both his neighbors.

I left for camp with four of the seven Muchachas who were supposed to come to camp. One was close to the Costa Rican border with her dad, who wouldn’t bring her back to town to come. Two others were blocked by their parents from coming who offered me one lame excuse after another to delay their decision in letting the girls come. I wish they had just been honest and upfront with me so at least I could have offered the opportunity to other girls in town. Oh well.

Camp was definitely a Panamanian affair. We were given a schedule, but didn’t keep to it. Instead of lunch at noon, food was never ready until 2pm. Instead of bedtime at 9:30pm (which is late for me to begin with) activities went until 11pm, midnight, or beyond. The one constant was a wakeup call at 6am or 5:30am if you are sleeping in a tent with little ones who want to get in a shower before the morning exercises. In fact, I didn’t even sleep in the tent the whole week with them. Our tent was actually made up of two tents with a large fly draped over them. I had four girls in each of the two tents, and I was left in the middle. The middle was not only a thoroughfare for dirty shoes trampling through, but also had a lovely large skylight made ever so pleasing with the downpours at night. Two nights of getting soaked and I had it. I headed for a cabin which didn’t offer much more in terms of warmth since I only brought sheets, but made up for it in comfort with a real mattress and pillow.

The girls seemed to enjoy themselves despite the downtime. Peace Corps volunteers did our best to fill in some of the gaps with games and activities of our own. There was a great charla about HIV/AIDS with dinamicas and videos. If you get the chance, I strongly recommend googling “Forrito” which is a singing, cartoon condom. I was a little surprised that they showed the video to 10 year olds, but hey, it’s a cartoon, so it can’t be bad. Hehe Perhaps they even have an English version of the videos, I don’t know, but they were really funny.

Other charlas were not as good. A 40 minute charla on making heathly food choices stretched to two and a half hours. That wouldn’t be so bad if it was really productive, but no. I learned that drinking ice water makes you fat, bet you didn’t know that! …Yeah, so it was lacking in factual information. Girls were falling asleep and most just weren’t paying attention at all. They all seemed to have forgotten about that come time for the evaluations and only remember the problems with the food. (For example, they completely ran out of food for my entire patrol on the second day. So they were finally served something whipped up from the kitchen an hour after all the other girls had eaten and left. )

Camp was an overall positive experience though. My girls learned not just about HIV/AIDS but a little about responsibility too. (Over the course of the week one of my girls lost her sandals, found them, lost her dished, borrowed mine, found hers, returned mine missing a spoon, lost her glasses, and lost her hat, not to be found again. ) They also made friends all over Panama and had an experience they never would have had sitting in town watching TV or what-have-you on their summer vacation.

I got back to town and was greeted by a disastrous house. Okay, so not quite a disaster, my house was still standing. But really strong winds and a lack of closing windows made for quite a mess. My bed that had been made before my departure had the blankets and sheets stripped and covered in dirt and leaves. I left a stack of printer paper on my table which spread all across the floor with a healthy film of dirt on top. Dishes fell in the kitchen area, and light bulbs, perhaps through the vibrations of the tin roof, wiggled out of the sockets and shattered on the floor. It’s all clean now, and I just have to buy some more bulbs today.

I had another meeting with my conservation group. I was told at the beginning of the meeting (which started an hour late in true Panamanian style) that the list of participants was missing three names so we would have to redo it and that our letter of solicitude was still missing. I mentioned that I printed it off, and asked what happened to all those papers. It turns out they just sat there the entire time, without any signatures or mention that they were ready to go. Now we need to turn in a letter from the local authorities supporting the group by Friday, which means that the letter I had printed off still needs to get down to that office in Potrerillos so they can write up the letter we need. I’d like to say I couldn’t believe that no one did anything and then refused to believe me when I told them that I had printed off everything they needed and they only had to sign it. The group is pretty much falling apart, and I think it would almost be better if it did and they could get some new leadership in there and start anew. I told them that I couldn’t and wouldn’t do everything on my own, so we’ll see what happens.

In other news, I received a grant for $60 from the Volunteer Advisory Council which I’ll be using to put together a kit with materials needed to run a FlyingWILD birding festival. It will keep me busy getting it all ready, but it should be fun and rewarding. I think I’m going to stick with a theme like Survival, hitting on the threats to bird populations and adaptations of birds.

Carnival is at the end of the month which will be a fun time to catch up with friends in a wet and wild atmosphere of the Azuero Peninsula. I’ll keep you posted and hope all is going well up in the freezy north!

Site difference

I arrived back from Panama safe and sound. Although the Ministerio Publico is your typical paper pushing government agency, it served for a trip to catch up with some friends in the city. I stopped at Kayla's site on my way back which is beautiful. She's got a big river flowing in the middle of town, unlike mine that is bordered by rivers. She also has a lot less agriculture, so there are more trees than sugarcane. Okay, enough comparisons...

I helped her ecotourism group design a logo. (Somehow the color is showing up weird when posted. It should have a black circle around it and colors not so florescent...) Kayla and I fiddled with a proto the night before meeting with the group. I'm sure glad they didn't like the one we did then! Haha. Although the one we did during their meeting was quick and snappy without a whole lot of thought or attention to detail, I think it turned out loads better than the nighttime tester. Their main trail, as I understand it, goes to a waterfall. They also have a cabin for tourists to stay in which just got a retrofit from a Biological Corridor grant. (That's the grant I am hoping my group will put their ducks in a row to get.) The tree is the namesake of their town, Barrigon, which means potbelly. See why? And then at the last minute, they wanted me to stick a swallow in there. After months of working with swallows in my hands, I still couldn't think of how to draw one without seeing one again. So the kindergarten rendition of a flying bird is their swallow. Lol They seemed happy with it, and even if not, I had a great time with Kayla.

I got back to my site all ready to get to work. When waiting at the bus stop for my chiva with some other folks in town, we realized there would be no chiva. Darn! I had a girl scout meeting in two hours, so I couldn't wait the 6 hours for the 6pm chiva. I decided to just eat it and walk up. Did I mention I bought a printer too? I took my little backpack and printer and left my backpacking pack (filled with books I just got from Kayla as well as two reams of paper) at the bus stop with the other folks from town who are either too old or too lazy to walk.

All of my girl scouts were at the meeting which made me happy. In addition, they had a great time first sewing frames out of wire and mesh and then making handmade paper in their unique shapes. We didn't get to talk a lot about their induction ceremony next week, well... tomorrow. But I figure I'll just wing it and they'll be happy. (This pic is from their meeting before when they were catching butterflies.)

I then trucked it up to the top of my community to make it in time for a conservation group meeting to fill out the paperwork for the Biological Corridor grant. When I got there, it was like a surprise. (It was to be held in the house of three of the group members since the “office” or caseta doesn't yet have electricity for a nighttime meeting.) Only the father, who is treasurer, was at home and told me he didn't know anything about the meeting. Well that's funny cause your son, Chicho, is the one who picked the date, time, and place... and he's not even here. Cheema gave him a call and he simply said that there wasn't a meeting and for me to go home. Man was my blood boiling. How dare he cancel yet another of my meetings without even telling me! We have had many talks about respecting me as a professional working in the community and the importance of communication. It just isn't sinking through though. (Did I mention it was his dad that told me I should marry his son so he could come to America? Yeah, shot that one down not because he's Panamanian, but because he is so arrogant!) Anyhow, I tried giving him a call and after it rang once, it went to voicemail. Aka, he rejected my call. There wasn't anything that could have made me more mad at that point. Eventually I left the house and started back downhill.

I called Kayla to tell her about it and ran into Chicho on my way home. I asked him what happened and he fained innocence. Moreover, he went into how all the groups in town fall apart when he is no longer leading them. They all need him. My goodness! I couldn't stand it and just smiled and knodded as he continued on and on until I could dismiss myself.

Saturday I had my third meeting with my English students to plan their graduation. The first meeting no one showed. The second only 5 of the 11. And this one only 3 showed. Plus, one of the three still hadn't brought her final assignment, consisting of 16 answers to questions that are basically yes or no about the environment of Cabecera. And they didn't bring money for the dinner they want me to buy the food for and cook for themselves and their families. Yeah, I'm not that generous to do it all on my own without some monetary help if they can't even show up for classes or meetings. So I ditched the meal at the graduation and some of they are upset about that. In fact, we were supposed to have this graduation before Christmas. Then it was supposed to be Jan 10th. I figure if they aren't interested enough in coming to a meeting to help me out with it, then they can't me holding their breaths to begin with about the graduation. I might do a little something for them, we'll see.

So goes life in Panama. I went to a birthday party today for Rosalina, an 11 year old forth grader. The invitation said it would start at 3pm. I got their at 3:10, but the mom didn't even throw on clothes until 4pm, so I didn't feel bad about my tardiness. Then in the best show of Panamanian culture I have seen for quite some time, one of my English students who is in his 50's, changed out of his regular t-shirt to get dressed up too. What did he put on? A mesh tanktop! Oh man, I wish I took a picture. I felt as though since I would only be taking the picture for a good laugh, I probably shouldn't. Next time... Until then, hope you all are doing well too!

Rainin´ Ants!

I´m all settled into my new house, but it seems the ants were quick to follow. I can´t quite blame them as it is certainly the only dry place around (if you don´t count the leaks in the roof) since it has been raining a steady 4 inches a day here. Oh the joys of the rainy season! But thankfully there is only a month more of really strong rain. Then summer will be coming! Then clothes can dry in just one day instead of three. Oh the luxury! But that of course means that my hair will probably dry in one day too, so I´ll have to go back to taking a shower every day. Shucks!

So I tried attacking the ants that have made quite a big nest on my front stoop. I boiled up some water, added my Dr. Bronner´s soap, and had at it with my machette as I poured the water into what was once their home. They started pouring instead out of the electrical outlet. What else could I do but boil up another pot of water and pour that into the outlet. Sorry Grandpa, but I don´t use that outlet anyhow, so I don´t care what it may have done to the wiring. hehe I also did the same to another big next just down from the first. (There are nests all around the foundation of my house, which actually leads me to believe that the whole house is sitting on a huge interconnected system of ant tunnels.) The next day, the nests were reformed like I hadn´t done a thing.

Ants are also crawling around my kitchen/dinning room/work table. (It´s still the only table I´ve got in the house.) I keep that thing spic and span, so what they are doing there I don´t know. My sponge is constantly covered in ants that I´ve killed, which is kinda gross, but hey. I know I´ve eated a couple too that have been crawling in cups before I realize it. I make sure all my dishes are food free and swimming in copious bubbles, but I guess there is still some smell the ants like. In fact, I saw them crawling over the cake of dishwashing soap in the sink outside. I don´t know. It´s a losing battle, so I figure I´ll just hold out until the rains pass and hope it gets better after that.

These suckers bit though!!! I don´t think there is such thing as a friendly ant in a tropical country. Every one I´ve ever encountered no matter the size or color bites like a mother. I end up with raised pus-filled bites every time. And they typically prefer my toes or underneath my watch.

You know when you get the tingles when you are sitting some times? I often do when I am sitting, reading in my hammock. Well, in the States, I wouldn´t think of it. Here, everytime I look at the location of the tingle, it´s always a bug. Be it an ant, mosquito, cricket, moth, you name it, it´s been crawling on me. At least moths and crickets don´t bite. Or sting... Every morning my ritual is knocking off the new growth on the window (decorative cement blocks) that the wasps make every day. You´d think they would get the point by now that they aren´t gonna be able to live there as long as I am here.

And so the fight continues...

Things are going well in site if you can count all the books I´ve been able to read these past few weeks. I´ve quite enjoyed myself actually. This past week in fact I knocked off two new books from my list and started a third. Thank god for electricity so I can read into the night, or during the midday storms that fill the sky with dark clouds and blow rain into the house if I don´t have my lovely, pink shower curtain-covered door closed.

To my defense, though I really don´t feel I need to defend myself... I have been working with one of the ladies to start a women´s craft group. There is interest... just no one shows up to the meetings. They blame it on the rain. I guess that gives me free reign to read until the rain stops! I have also started digging a test hole for fish tanks. You need clay to build them to keep the water in. Well, after digging through 16 inches of black volcanic soil crawling with great worms, I couldn´t help but think why they won´t just make organic compost. Instead we made it down the first 36 inches and stopped for the day. That was two days ago... perhaps next week it won´t be raining so much and she (as I´m only digging this with one other lady) will be up for digging some more.

I haven´t done much to coordinate a Panama Verde group in my site yet. I´ve had a lot on my plate, you know between the books and all. I would have to hold meetings after 2pm when the kids get back from school (the colegio cause the elementary school rarely holds class past 10:30am). And of course that is prime time for rain and nonattendance at meetings. Oye.

My Eco-English class is still going well though. Last class I did the Ïncredible Journey¨ from Project WET and it went really well. Basically all the kids become water molecules to learn more about the water cycle. Plus, now that I spent the time to make all the game parts, I can use it again in the future with other groups.

So I´ll be plugging away at much of the same and hopefully getting into a better blogging rhythm again!

Darn...

So just as I was coming back to my hotel after sending that last email... I got robbed. Damn. I've now got a new phone and number: 65944311. Since you may be wondering what exactly hapened, and I've had to tell the story about a billion times (and I just found out there might be other versions going around), here's an email I sent to my fam:

I got my ass kicked yesterday, literally, and of course robbed too.

It all boils down to me not making the best decisions. I didn't want to pay $5 for another taxi that I wouldn't be reimbursed for, so I took a bus most of the way to my hostel (Luna's Castle) and then went to grab a taxi from there (Plaza Cinco de Mayo). (Mistake #1) I tried to get one just feet from where the bus dropped me off, but was told by a girl I needed to catch one in the main plaza. That was where I could see all the taxi's going by, so I went with her. We chatted on the short walk and she said she was headed the same way as me.

I was out of site and in Panama for the first time since Swear-In and still coming off my of high of having confianza with my whole community. I trusted her. (Mistake #2) Two of her girlfriends were with us in the cab. We headed in the general direction I needed to go, but not quite.

The cab stopped in a now dusk-lit street and the girls got out. I stayed put and told the cab that he was going to take me to my hostel. He disagreed and the girl told me she would walk me there. Now I was in a quandary... the cab driver was acting like a jerk and she was offering help. So (Mistake #3), I got out of the cab with her helping me out. I take one step as the cab drives off and BOOM!

I'm on the ground with about ten people around me kicking, hitting, and pulling hair. I did my best to hold on to my stuff and put up quite a good fight if I do say so myself, but I was obviously outnumbered... Damn. So they snatched my PacSafe purse (irony) with about $140, phone, ID's, and bank cards, and computer with all it's paraphernalia, about 300 printed pages for my Eco-English class and community analysis, and new meds tucked inside (more irony that I was only in the city for a med visit and come out more battered than before!). At least they didn't open my purse right there, as I also had my Leatherman in there. That could have been bad!

I chased after the dude with my computer, only making it about a block or two with no shoes and realizing that I could be making Mistake #4 if I continued. I swung into a random house with people in it and they took care of me. I was obviously frazzled and they got me water and eventually I sat and waited with them while other members of the family or friends went looking for my stuff. I had on my official Cuerpo de Paz shirt on that they took as a religious mission. One of the guys there was a Pastor, so I didn't correct them.

After I finished the water bottle, I asked for ice for my hands and other battered body parts. Then another offered me a bottle of clear liquid I took as more water. I had it about up to my lips before taking a wiff of the rubbing alcohol. Nope, that would not be good! I poured some on my hands and dabbed my side which stung like no other. They then got some Vic's Vapor Rub which they applied to all my scrapes. It had the effect of Icy-Hot, minus the hot. I don't know if it was exactly a pleasant sensation, but at least it gave my body something else to ponder.

When Peace Corps tells you to remember the phone number to the Duty Officer, sure, it doesn't seem so hard. But put yourself in a situation when you really need it and all I could remember was that it started with a 6. (Before you give me too much credit, all cell phones in Panama start with a 6!) Someone found my purse which had the metal part securing the strap bent out of line (allowing them to yank it from around my body). It was emptied of my phone, cash and credit cards but luckily still has my Purple ID (Foreign Ministry card from the Panamanian government), and my yellow card with all my emergency phone numbers.

I called the Duty Officer, with Greg the Assistant Director on that night, and filled him in on what happened before the phone cut out. Unfortunately the cell phone I borrowed had a private number so he couldn't call back as is protocol. That guy left the house, so I waited... I eventually borrowed another phone (which you can't talk, only text) and got connected with him by him calling yet another phone. It turned out I wasn't in Casco Viejo and was in another shady
area next door. Since the plan of me taking another taxi back to my hostel was happening at a snail's pace, the Embassy security (aka Marines) were alerted and sent to find me.

My hosts were much more concerned about trying to find my credit cards (and shoes) than I was. Oh, in fact, they found a pair of golden sandals they thought were mine and offered them. Nope, those are from one of the girls who jacked my stuff! I really wanted to keep them as perhaps a recuerdo, but when they found my real shoes, I opted for the later. Peter, the Director of Peace Corps Panama, gave me a call letting me know I was welcome to spend the night at his house and also filled me in on the Embassy involvement.

I stressed that I needed to get back to my hostel where Greg was waiting and they finally took me to the street. As I waited with the Pastor, another family member gave me my remaining credit cards I was missing. (I found out later they used my credit card twice at a gas station before the bank canceled it within that hour which makes me believe the taxi driver was in on it...) He decided we were going to walk to my hostel. I nixed that idea after following him for a block and a half. I was no going to walk around in this area, even with an escort. Cab after empty cab drove right past us until one finally stopped. I guess they don't like this area either! We were only a few blocks away from the hostel, but I was relieve to get inside. I had a 10 bill that was evidently too well hidden in my wallet for the thugs to find which I had to break inside and used to pay the cab and the pastor's return fare. $7 left in my pocket.

When I got inside, I asked where Greg was, and bought a beer in the meantime. I located him outside with a phone call and he gave me a big hug when he got up the stairs. He reiterated Peter's offer of his house, though with all the people around the hostel, I declined. He also let me know the plan that I would be filling out paperwork the following day and then need to stay in the city until Monday for more paperwork and processing. He asked if I had any questions, and my only one was if I could still meet up with my friends in the Azuero since I'd have nothing else to do on Sunday. He gave me the green light and said I could even take off late Saturday after paperwork. Yay!

After he left, I he called saying I'd be picked up at 10am by a guy from the Embassy to walk me through the paperwork. Maria Elena, our Security Coordinator, called asking me if I spoken with the Embassy personnel. I told her not directly but would be meeting with them the following morning. Oops, evidently they were still looking for me and everyone was worried. She said she's call Greg and figure everything else.

I spent the rest of the night storytelling with the backpackers and finally finishing my beer that had been waiting for me. I took a shower to clean up my hair and wash the dirt and gravel out of my scrapes. I tried turning in at around 11pm or midnight and excruciatingly made it up the ladder of my bunk bed. Damn, they really got me more than I realized. I didn't sleep much last night for lack of finding a comfortable position on my sore butt. I think I may very well have bruised my tailbone and strained my neck. Well, I didn't do it, but you get the point. hehe

So I was up for good by 5am and just have to wait until 10am. This hostel's got free pancake breakfast and unlimited coffee, so I'll pass the time nibbling since the jerks also stole my new reading book. I think I'll be able to find a new one in the little library here and will pick up a lot more in both the PC headquarters' library and our better one in Chiriqui. I'll be doing lots of reading without a computer or tv! Oye!!! I guess that's probably the worst off I am, and that's not too bad. hehe Peace Corps definitely has your back on these things and I might even be reimbursed for some of my losses!

I´m Moving!

I’ll be keeping my address, aka Entrega General David, Chiriqui, Panama. Hehe. I love the mail system. They keep it so simple. My house is the first house you get to in the community, so that means my chiva ride is only $.75 instead of $1.50 to my last house family, or $1.00 for anywhere else in town. And my neighbor is the chiva drive, so I can catch a ride more often than the two trips a day. Or I cut about a half hour of my walk down to Potrerillos Arriba. Either way, transportation wise, it is better. It also means that it is a half hour walk back uphill to the center of town. Hmmm.

It has electricity, with a total of three bulbs inside and two outside. Plus it has a flush toilet, shower, and sink inside. The bigger sink to wash dishes is outside. You can think of the house as a square with a wall down the middle that divides the two rooms. The main room is your kitchen, dining room, seating (hammock) area. The lady I’m renting from switched the table on me, so now I’ve got one half the size to store all my pots, pans, dishes, cook, eat, and work on. I’ll have to find a better solution, as it’s not gonna fly. But I can’t blame her, my other neighbors got her to lower my rent from $40/month to $30/month since the going rate in town and what the previous volunteer paid was just $25/month.

The other room has my bed, complete with my mattress atop an old mattress. I feel like the princess and the pea as it is so soft. Maybe it is just normal and I’ve been used to an inch of padding over wooden boards or else springs poking through an ancient mattress. We’ll see if I feel up to moving the mattresses around again. I’ve got lots of hangers for my clothes which I can dry outside on hangers and then just hang them up inside. I’m gonna love it. And then the bathroom is in the back of that room.

All the interior “doors” are curtains. So you gotta be careful if the front door is open, the wind is blowing, and you are sitting on the toilet. I’m going to hunt for some weights I can sew onto the bottoms of the curtains. And I’ve got to find some brighter bulbs, cause these ones aren’t quite cutting it. Shelving is also on my list. Besides from that I’m all set to move in.

I splurged on my moving-in allowance. I bought a fridge for $230: the LG ExpressCool, and I love it! I also bought a $25 blender with a 3 year warrantee and a toaster over for $40 with a 2 year warrantee. I already cooked a bunch of cakes in it and it works fabulously. I can’t wait for pizzas, roasted chicken, and all the other non-fried food I’ve been craving. Then I bought Kirsten’s stuff (mattress and cookware) for $45. So out of my $300 allowance, I’ll probably end up spending $400 to be comfortable. I just don’t do the keeping meat on the counter for days thing that seems to be popular around here. My stomach has told me time and again over these last three months that it just doesn’t work. Therefore although I can get Pepto for free from the med office, I think the fridge is the wiser investment.

Oh man, I called the med office last Thursday asking for more Pepto. She offered sending it with Francisco during his visit yesterday. That sounded great at the time, as it was just because I was out, and not sick or anything. By Saturday though, my stomach was rumbing. I barely made it around town Sunday and stayed in bed all day on Monday. This was all leading up to the time when I needed to be out and about the most for my big presentation.

By Tuesday I had recovered with the help of my host fam’s bottle of Pepto and I took off to David with the chiva driver’s wife to buy my fridge. It turned into a shoe shopping trip, and after waiting in a hair salon, I split to run some errands and make it back to town. The 2:30pm chiva never left town, so the 3pm trip back up didn’t happen and I had to wait until 6pm for the chiva. I got back to my host family at 7pm and started baking at 7:30pm after dinner. I didn’t finish until 10pm popping my half sized cakes into the toaster oven one at a time. But I finished!

The cakes were a big hit. Super moist cakes (out of the box) are not only a lot cheaper than the cakes they all buy for birthdays, but soooo much more delicious than their thick, dry desserts.
My visit went great and my boss was very impressed with all the work I have been doing, especially since my visit was the earliest. Yes! Now I’m off to print out my 25 page analysis and to help my friends do the same since their visits aren’t for another month.

Goldfish and Gorillas

What do a goldfish and a gorilla have in common? Besides the first letter of the animals’ names, they both make me laugh.

I was waiting for the chiva and chatting it up with some of the ladies in town. One of them cleans the school and mentioned that she finally cleaned the fish tank in one of the classes. It was growing things on the glass, so she gave it a good cleaning with the typical Panamanian cleaners. Then she filled it back up and popped the fish in to swim in the clear tank. The fish decided it would show off a new stroke: the dead man’s float.

We laughed at the error… But then one of the other ladies who works for a family in Potrerillos piped in with her own fishy story. She cleaned the fish tank at her place of work with the same result that she demonstrated with her cheeks puffed out and her once flapping hands coming to a rest at her sides. The family, like any good parents, bought new fish for the tank. The next time she cleaned the tank, the fish floated once again. And the next time. And the next time. Five rounds of fish later, the mother of the household finally let her know that she really only needs to clean the tank with water instead of the harsh cleaners that don’t come out of the gravel bottom. Lol. I think I would have mentioned something after the first fish flopped.

Anyhow after I took the chiva back up to my house, I played soccer with the girls outside. We started off on the patio, roughly three feet by five feet for the four of us. Since obviously that was a little tight for a real game, we continued out onto the yard. Not much of my community is flat, so our field was once again limited. All I had to do was stand in place and kick the ball from one goal through the next. The girls chased after the ball when it went into the corn or by the pigs.

They eventually took off their shoes, and since I didn’t, I retrieved the ball. I ran after it, trapped the ball, and dribbled it back. Nothing to it, right? I’m playing with little kids. Well, that’s what I thought at least. The littlest one at five years old starts waving her arms in front of her like a gorilla, jumping up and down, and parroting, “Choing, choing, choing.” The middle one at seven years old then joined in with the same arm motions. Hmmmm.

The little one then asked me, “Why do they do that?” I was laughing too hard to reply by that point! Need I explain to them that when you don’t wear a sports bra, they bounce? Lol Oh little gorilla girls, you’ll learn.