Happy Thanksgiving

It’s Thanksgiving, and this year may be one of the best I’ve ever had, although it got off to a rocky start. Because of a tropical depression in the Caribbean Sea, Panamá has been inundated with downpours this past week, resulting in flooded communities, washed-out bridges, and landslides. Volunteers in my county were evacuated to the country capital, and it seemed as though our thanksgiving celebration would be cancelled. However, thanks to the efforts of a handful of volunteers, our celebration is back on in a new, dryer location, which means plates of turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, broccoli casserole, and more stuffing. While I chopped up 20 lbs of broccoli, I had time to think about Thanksgiving, not with any historical regard, but more so of my appreciation for what I had taken for granted.

I have never felt more thankful to be an American. In the USA, there are abundant opportunities to achieve our dreams. We are hard on ourselves, our government, our educational system, our employers, economic policies, and the media, but these criticisms promote a pursuit for improvement and better life. Our country is a land where dissenting opinions can be voiced, entrepreneurs can thrive in business endeavors, engineers invent, and parents who dropped out of high school can see their children graduate from college. Parents do not worry that their children will be plagued with a debilitating endemic disease, and the sick are comforted in the reliefs of modern medicine for formerly fatal illnesses. Hard work and prudent decisions generally produce a lucrative and merry pay off. We are comfortable in our heated and cooled homes with plumbing and solid barriers from nature’s critters. Personal automobiles are commonplace. Substitutes teach when teachers cannot. We vote for government representatives. It’s beautiful.

Prior to Peace Corps service, I had not fully appreciated these aspects of being an American. Perhaps I focused more on the negative traits of American society instead of being grateful for the positives. I also did not realize what life could be life without these attributions. Chopping head after head of broccoli, I contemplated the country, the opportunities, the health, and even the people I had underappreciated. For so much I am thankful.

Peace Corps?

Sitting at a table in a hostel, typing away on the computer, I overheard the topic of Peace Corps among some young travelers at the next table over. "Their guns shoot hearts," one of them laughed. "It’s quite an old-fashioned hippie mentality" chimed in another. I thought about joining their conversation to clarify Peace Corps' goal and methodology of sustainable development but could think mostly of my own preoccupations with the organization. During my one year as a Peace Corps volunteer thus far, I have come to disagree with major components of the Peace Corps structure, although none of which include any hint of a wimpy organization. So what don’t I like?

1.The Peace Corps is tax funded.
I am for a limited government that provides security and protection to its citizens so that they may pursue contentment. I feel that social assistance should be left to individuals and private or nonprofit organizations.

2.One of the Peace Corps' 3 goals is to foster a better image of the United States.
When someone donates their time, money, or efforts, they do so because of personal reasons. It is a private activity between the giver and recipient, which shouldn’t be done for accolades from bystanders.

3.It is not as results-oriented as I would like.
During our first day in Panamá, volunteers were told not to focus on seeing change. We may see it, we may not, but we needn´t get hung up on seeing results because change can take time. I, however, am here for results. If I don´t see improved economic opportunities, increased income, or healthier and prudent decisions in my community, I will feel I have failed.

4.Assignments are not as thoroughly researched as I would hope.
After Peace Corps, volunteers have the option to work on Crisis Corps projects. Theses are assignments for a specific amount of time, in a specific community, working on a specific project. On the other hand, Peace Corps volunteers are assigned a community, are given a list of possible projects, and are told to go, analyze the community, and figure out how he/she can help. Without the arduous grunt work of researching a community before sending a volunteer, the volunteer runs the risk of not finding sufficient work.

5.We do not have money for projects.
The Peace Corps prides itself on our non-paternalistic method of teaching a man to fish rather than giving a man a fish. However, you may have to buy a fishing pole before the teaching can begin. Thus, even if volunteers are able to develop ideas for projects to improve their communities, finding the funds can be a difficlt task. The U.S. government sends financial aid to promote sustainable development in foreign countries, but oddly, that money is not tied to the designers and implementers of sustainable development projects -the Peace Corps volunteers. Rather, Peace Corps volunteers seek funds on their own and may or may not successfully fund their projects. And so their projects may or may not materialize.

Overall, I enjoy my work, my community, and my Peace Corps experience. There are, however, some aspects that I am just not a big fan of.

One year down, One to go

Whew. One year of Peace Corps service has crawled by. Although I am glad to be here, I must say that this has been the longest year of my life. I think the second year may even fly by, though, now that I´ve established a bit of a groove and niche. Here are some of the highlights of year number one, of course in list format because thats what I do:

Best Days
1. Norberto calculating payroll with Excel completely on his own.
2. Successfully negotiating better prices with 3 of our biggest tourism clients.
3. Wearing a paperhat and hitting a piñata at my surprise birthday party.
4. Girlscout Camp invloving Family Planning seminars and hourly snacks
5. AIDS Day in my site with several communities, volunteers, and the ministry of health.
6. Making and printing our first marketing brochure.
7. My chief phoneing me one morning that I should immediatly jump in a boat to head down river to attend a meeting.

Worst Days
1. Getting sick from the water and having to use the latrine with no roof in the rain while termites crawled up my leg after nearly falling down my log ladder because of a bum ankle.
2 and 3. Awaking to tourists taking my picture or climbing into my house during the 2 times that I got sick from the water.
4. Being banned from an Embera-only meeting (which is why number 7 above was so great).

Biggest Fears
1. Falling off of my house.
2. Falling out of the boat.
3. Falling off my ladder.
4. My house being struck by lighning and then falling to the ground.

Goals for next year
1. Our marketing project will be funded.
2. We will create a cultural and botanical exhibit and tourist pathway.
3. We will negotiate better prices with all current agencies.
4. We will establish relationships with new agencies and recieve a consistently higher level of tourism
5. We will sell more handicrafts.
6. The elementary students will have a better understanding of math and be able to read more proficiently.
7. Members of my community will operate the computers effectively without me.
8. More income will come into the community.
9. The community will learn methods of saving money to acheive their goals.
10. I will work myself out of a job.

So, to celebrate one year of service, the other volunteers and I spent 2 nights at a resort. It seems wrong, but it was wonderful. Here are some of the photos.

Norberto and Junior

Volunteers typically find a leader in their community with whom to work on projects. Although there is great leadership in my community, I initially struggled to find someone who could devote the time and energy to working on community projects with me. The community had expressed an interest in acquiring and learning to use a computer, and I was excited to teach potential accounting and marketing techniques. However, it took some time to earn the confidence of the community, especially with such delicate issues as money. Throughout my first year, Norberto ( The Secretary of the Tourism Group who handles all the money) and I began working more and more together. Norberto, who used to calculate payroll by hand and had never used a computer before, now knows how to use Excel spreadsheets to calculate payroll and generate contracts in Word. Sky's the limit with Norberto.

Junior, the Chief's son, has also been working on the computer with me. He helped to create the brochures and business cards for the community. We practice English too, in hopes that one day he will be able to give presentations about the Embera culture to English speaking tourists.

I really enjoying working with these 2 guys!

The Rockin Brochure and Business Card my Community made

Lately, I’ve been working with my community on raising our tourism prices. What a delicate situation. For years, Tourism agencies have refused to pay higher prices and give only a small fraction of what they receive from tourists to my community, which can end up being about 20cents per employee for a day’s worth of work (For instance, the agencies receive up to $130 from a tourist but pay only $12 to the community). I have tried to convey to my community the leverage we have and that we are in a position to ask for and receive higher payment. My community offers an awesome experience, and tourists usually have a wonderful time. Also, if we work with other Embera tourism communities to set a standard price throughout this niche in the industry, we are in a strong position to negotiate higher pricing from agencies. Some agencies have recently agreed to our new prices, which has been a huge confidence builder for my community. However, some agencies still insist on paying ultra low prices, and I told my community to tell them to take a hike- we don’t work for free. This advice was a difficult decision to reach on my part because tourism is the only source of income in my community. The past mentality of the village has been that little income is better than none, and so they have been afraid to take the risk of loosing a client. However, I have advised my community to be firm with our new prices and take the chance on loosing some clients. As for those agencies that threaten to halt business with us because they can’t afford our new prices, I invite them to find a better deal. Chances are, they won’t and will either return to us or will pursue other types of tourist excursions. Either way, we are better off.

In the meantime, we are launching a marketing campaign to print business cards and brochures in order to promote the community and establish new tourism agency contacts. We are seeking funds for printing the aforementioned documents, making modifications to our office so we can operate the computer safely in the jungle, and building an Embera display garden to exhibit the important plants for basket weaving, seed and wood carvings, and medicine.

I have submitted a proposal for funds to be donated to this project at
https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=resources.donors.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=525-099
Anyone can donate.

Whats up in the Village these days

I have a busy few weeks ahead of me. My girlscouts, who learned about AIDS during our recent outing, are going to host an AIDS Day and teach information on AIDS and family planning to guys and gals from 4 neighboring Embera Indian communities. I think my girls are excited that it is a good way for them to meet guys, which is why this information is so important. Ahh teenagers. I am also going to help train the new group of Peace Corps volunteers. I guess this makes me a Junior helping the underclassman. Hee hee. I am going to talk to them about creating an organization, writing contracts, human resources, payroll, accounting, and ecotourism services. Soon, I am also giving a Personal Finance seminar in my community- not because they asked for it, but because I’m a nerd and like that type of thing. Plus, it’s really helpful information that can help them plan for emergencies, build a hut addition, buy a boat, and achieve other goals. Famous Debora, as I like to call her since she is an extra in James Bond- Quantum of Solace, is going to help me give this seminar.



My buddies are in the new James Bond Movie: From left to right- Israel, Debora, and Vilka.

More HIV/AIDS Awareness

I recently visited my wondeful volunteer buddy Mick on his Nobe Indian Reservation. We both work with Indigenous communities, although I live with the Embera tribe and he lives with the Nobes. Members of his community are much more bashful and demure than my community, which made our project of teaching HIV/AIDS to a group of 75 Nobe children quite a challenge.



(The volunteers and a handful of the kids from the HIV/AIDS presentation)




(Mick and the incredible view from his house. Before I came to Panama, I saw a photo of this house with a group of volunteers inside it on a blog. Who knew that I would be there months later with Mick- the follow-up volunteer- and our new group of friends).

Girlscout Camp

Recently, one of my best volunteer buds Emily and I decided to hold a girlscout camp. Well, actually, I thought it would be a good idea and applied for funding while Emily was out of the country, and she was such a good sport to make it all happen when she returned. So...I brought my Embera Indian group of 6 girlscouts across the country to meet Emily's Latin girlscouts and learn about HIV/AIDS. Ultimately, the intent was also to bring the 2 groups of girls together to try to tackle the racism against Indians that sometimes exist in Panama as well as encourage my girls to break the cycle of having lots of babies and at a young age (some of them have 8 brothers and sisters!). With all the help from Emily and her girlscouts, our camp was a great success. When post-tested, the gals proved they had a strong understanding of HIV/AIDS, and our 2 groups got along famously.



(Me and my girlscouts who, just like American teenie boppers, planned matching outfits)



(My and Emily's girlscouts in their traditional Indian and Latin skirts)

Borrowed Photographs

Since my camera is no more, I have been borrowing photos from friends. Here are a couple. The first is of me after surgery on my tootsies. The next is of Jake and Coco and their boat jam session. Lastly, my goofy volunteer buddies after a night of all you can eat pizza.

Ouch

I wish I had pictures. Its gross but neat. At least, though, its likely to leave a cool scar although the story won't be as exciting as a machete, snake, or flesh eating bacteria incident would have been.

Infections scare me. You never know what they are going to do. For the past 6 months, I have had an infection on my foot that just wouldn't go away with doctor's visits and antibiotic treatment- pretty much because life in the jungle can be a bit dirty. It was getting worse, spreading to the other foot and my leg, and was painful, so the doctor decided to cut out the infection. I have 7 stitches. Stinks that I am out of commission for 2 weeks because I had lots planned. Its the 45th anniversary of Peace Corps in Panama, and many former volunteers are returning to Panama for the celebration as well as the Big Big Boss of all of of the Peace Corps. Some were planning to come to my site, and I was organizing a project for them to work on "for old times sake." We were going to make an Embera medicinal garden as well as a garden/exhibit for all the plants that are used to make our indian handicrafts plus a lovely pathway throughout the community to get to these gardens. Currently, tourists take a walk down a path to visit the school- and when I am teaching there, I feel like we are on display in a zoo as the tourists gather around, oohh and aww and take pictures. So, I like our new idea of a tourist pathway with a destination that shows more culture and leaves the kiddos alone. But, I will have to wait until another week to do this project. Bummer. It will still be fun later (my girlscout troop will be helping), but it would have been a cool project with the former peace corps volunteers.

I recently got a new computer for my community and we are using it for so much- I am teaching the students how to use a computer, but more importantly we are practicing with computer programs that enable the kids to learn their alphabet, to read, count, and do math. Our community Tourism Group is also doing a lot with this computer- such as accounting and marketing projects. The Tour Guides that visit our community get a kick out of Indians using computers. Guess it is a little strange to see a man in a loin cloth calculating payroll on Excel. I found out yesterday, that my proposal for a printer for the community was approved. Now we can print out accounting documents as well as the business cards and handicraft logos/labels we've created on the computer. Yay!

The airconditioning, hot water, matress, and lack of bugs have been nice touches lately in the hotel, but I'm already ready to get back to site. It is comforting to know that medical treatment here is high quality. I feel like I am in good hands and that I have received better treatment here than I did in the states (less wait time and I pay absolutely nothing). I am lucky but feel guilty. They definetely don't receive health treatment like this in my community.

Gross

This is what happens when you leave a bagged loaf of bread on the counter after sunset in the jungle.

Ovens are so last year

You can cook nearly anything on a stove. Calzones, baked pretzels, garlic breadsticks, biscuits, tortillas...maybe even cookies, but I haven't tried that yet. The community has really liked rice crispy treats and spaghetti and meatballs. I love using banana leafs as pot covers, although I haven't quite mastered cooking 5 pounds of rice, which as it turns out was too much food for my guest family of 8. However, instead of a fridge for leftovers, I call the neighborhood kids over to finish off the grub.

Pictures

My camera died, so here are some photos of friends that I have snagged from other peace corps buddies:

Cultural Week

Cultural Week, a week where new Peace Corps volunteers live in my community to learn about the culture, has come to an end. Everything turned out well, but making certain that the volunteers were happy and healthy, that host families were content, and that all sessions/ classes went smoothly was taxing because random problems consistently arose:

After planning cultural week and assigning roles to the community, over half of the community decided to leave for a 4 day work trip in the jungle to build a boat. Our lunch cooks ran out of rice after cooking a weeks supply of rice in 3 days. A host family slept in and did not feed their volunteer. 2 volunteers got very, very sick. A host family had to go the hospital, leaving noone at home with their volunteer. The language teacher arrived late because of the rain. The school teacher gave a test when we planned to practice teaching in the school. My cell phone broke.

It all worked out, though, and ended with a farewell party that included cakes and a huge pot of chicken and rice (It would have been nice to break out the chief’s kareoke machine had we had electricity that night). All and all, we had a fun Cultural Week.

Doctor Quinn

I made medicinal tea from a plant in the rainforest today. I am hosting cultural week for 3 Peace Corps trainees, one of which has a stomach ache. During one of our sessions today, we learned from an elder in the community about medicinal plants, and I used the stem and leaves of one plant to create a tea. The result? The trainee got violently ill.

Not Again

It was 3 am, and I was sleeping solidly. That is until I heard movement on my porch. Surely it’s just an animal, I tried to convince myself. However, children can ascend my stairs silently, cross my porch stealthily, and sneak up on me. Thus, for me to hear the stepping on my bouncy lumber floor and feel the slight sway of the house, the uninvited guest had to have been bigger than an animal or child. I grabbed my flashlight to the side of my pillow, and shone the light into the gapping crevice where my bedroom wall meets the roof. Loud, quick movements ensued towards the direction of my stairs, followed by silence.

I tried to resume sleep, somewhat comforted by the feeling that my door was locked and that the overhead gaps would be difficult for a person to climb through. My fears were disassuaged, though, as I considered the ease someone would have of entering my bedroom walls, floor, and roof made of sticks and leaves. Had I been the little pig who made her house out of bricks, I may have been able to go back to sleep.

At 6am when the sun came up, I unlocked and opened my door and stepped out onto my open porch. My tree stump, which doubles as a chair and side table, had been moved right in front of my door, apparently for a third use as a stepping stool in an attempt to climb over my door. I explained this disturbing experience to the chief who said if I ever hear anything odd, I should call him regardless of what time it is, and he will run over.

My first argument in Spanish

A non profit group (which is funded by the U.S. government oddly enough) organized a meeting with me, my community, neighboring communities, and a tour guide from a tour agency, all with the hopes of working together to generate tourism ideas that bennefit everyone. During a small group activity, I partnered with the tour guide, and he asked the question that I get on the daily ~ what is my purpose here? So, I responded that I want to help create opportunities here, and that by working with the tourism group, I hope to generate more income to allow the opportunities for better health and education. His response caught me off guard, though ~ Why do they need better education? This is perhaps one of the most shocking questions I have heard. I just assumed that everyone agreed that the more education, the better.

This tour guide’s remark was triggered by his legitimate concern that if community members receive more than an elementary school education, they may want to have a career outside of the community. And then what happens to their culture? My response seemed to urk the tour guide, though. I told him that I hoped the children here have the opportunity to be whatever they want to be and that what is best for them is not my decision. Nor his. It’s up to each individual. And further education opens the door to more options.

After our uncomfortable small group session, we joined the large group. When I was asked for suggestions for improvements, I suggested that Tour Agencies pay more.

Time for More Pictures

Photos above are of:

The village bicycle (there is no chain, no seat, and no back tire, but the kids love taking turns riding it)

Me and another volunteer Kelly (during an impromptu trip to her site that got me in hot water with my supervisors)

Buddies Mick and Patrick (Patrick had a flesh eating bug and spent 3 weeks in the city receiving medical treatment)

2 Famous Deborahs

A film crew recently visited my site to film a tv segment on the indigenous roots of Panama. I was typing a proposal on the computer in the storage shed when I was asked to participate in this video. Initially, I declined, but when the director said in English with a wonderful Spanish accent, “What, you don’t want to be in my beautiful video?” I obliged. And so I sat on the steps of the shed pretending to teach English to an Embera youth holding a dictionary. I felt silly and was certain the footage would be scrapped.

I didn’t have the chance to see the tv program. Days later, though, I visited another volunteer, met her host family, and her host dad recognized me from the tv program! I used to call the other Deborah in my site Famous Deborah because she is an extra in the New James Bond movie, but now we are both superstars :)

Roof Photos

Photos are of Regu repairing my roof , the pesky chicken on the roof (which you can barely see), and me happy with my new roof. (My camera no longer functions well so photos aren’t too clear).

Parties

Photos are of me and Michele at her baby shower as well as my Panamanian birthday party extravaganza.

Ready for the Rain

I am ready for the rainy season because my roof has been repaired. When I had a leaky roof in the states, I solicited several estimates from roofers in the phonebook, chose the most appropriate contractor, and paid $150 to fix the leak. Things are a bit different in the village. For my leak, I needed the following:

* $10 (40 palms leaves at a quarter each)
* $4.15 for a gallon of gasoline to go down river to get the palms
* A chicken (My friend Coco who helped me obtain the palms wouldn’t accept payment, so I bought him a chicken for dinner)
* Dinner (My friend Regu who did the repairs also wouldn’t accept payment, so I cooked dinner for him)

I think my friend Regu has got to have the best attitude of anyone I’ve ever met. He smiled and laughed the entire time he made the roof repairs. He worked hard and quickly (2 ½ hours) and had no problem standing on roof structure made of wooden poles not much thicker than my wrist. He even got rid of a big termite nest (the size of my head) by hand, tearing it apart fistful by fistful.

So now my house is ready for the rain. And somehow, a chicken managed to get on top of my roof. From inside, I could see his little head poking through the palms and looking down. I told the kids that were reading books that the chicken wanted to listen, too. I hope that rascal doesn’t make a nest or harm my new roof. If he does, I’ll eat him.

27 years

I haven’t taken a stick to one in exactly 20 years. The last time was at my 3rd grade birthday party. But today, I once again had the opportunity to hit a pinata. At 9:00 this morning, a couple of kids came to my house to ask that I come to the school at 10:30. I told the students that because my friend would be visiting today, I wouldn’t be able to. Around 9:30, I headed up the hill to the school to tell the teachers in person that I would be unavailable later on. As I approached, the children ran out of the school, met me at the hill, and told me that I couldn’t enter. The smiling teacher soon followed and said, “It was going to be a surprise.” They were throwing me a surprise birthday party! How exciting- I’ve never had a surprise party. Too bad I ruined the surprise.

Per their request, I left and then shortly thereafter reapproached the school. This time, the kids sat giddy in their seats, saying, “She’s coming, she’s coming.” As I walked through the door, my mouth dropped. Each of the cheering students was wearing a hand-made party hat. Colorful streamers adorned the walls. The chalkboard said Happy Birthday. A stream of balloons hung across the teacher’s desk. I was escorted to the chair behind the desk, which felt more like a throne. Ontop of the desk were cookies as well as a large vanilla cake, personalized for my birthday and decorated with beautiful floral icing and fruitloops.

Then the games began. We sang songs and did the macarena. A cd player was hooked up to the solar panel and we danced up a storm to latin music. Later, the pinata was hung and I had my first swing at a candy-filled paper doll in 2 decades. Finally, the cake was lit and everyone sung happy birthday, blew into party noise-makers, and enjoyed delicious cake and juice.

I think this is the best birthday party I’ve ever had. There are birthdays where you get the chance to drive, or vote, or see rated R movies, or drink, or get a discount on car insurance. But how often do you get the chance to feel 20 years younger? I loved feeling like a kid again. The most meaningful part of my birthday extravaganza, though, was the thoughtfulness and generosity of the teachers and parents. A community that has so little pulled together to make my birthday such a special day. I am floored. I can’t even begin to express how much that means to me.

2nd Trip Home

When your only sister is having her first baby while you are living in the jungle, you do whatever is necessary to spend at least some time with her during such an important time of her life. So, I went home again to see Michele, the belly, and the babyshower.

It wouldn’t be a Panamanian story if it didn’t begin and end with crazy bus adventures. The day before my flight, I took a bus to the central bus station. This busdriver, as they so often do, changed his mind about the destination of the bus in route. As I unboarded the bus at my non-destination, the busdriver would not accept my 25cent fare. Maybe it was because he didn’t get me where I needed to go. Or maybe it was because he hoped I would agree to his request to take him to the states with me.

Another free bus ride was only moments away. After I finally reached the bus station, I grabbed an airport-bound bus. The first red flag was when we stalled-out as we left the terminal. We proceeded to stall out at every traffic light. Twenty minutes into the ride, the bus finally broke down for good and all passengers deboarded. Seconds later, another airport-bound bus stopped, but attempting to cram passengers from 2 buses into 1 left me and my luggage on the street. 20 minutes later, another airport bus went by but was too full to stop for more passengers. 20 minutes later, another went by without stopping. 20 minutes later yet another went by but this one I chased down seeing as the sun was setting and I was alone in a neighborhood I didn’t know. So I caught up to the bus driver at a traffic light, cut across the cars and banged on the door. I knew there was room for me if we tried. But he didn’t want to try and preferred to leave me in his dust. So, I decided to catch a bus going in the opposite direction, go back to the bus terminal, and start over. I splurged on my next airport-bound bus ($1 instead of 25cents) which was a motor coach with a.c. and was less likely to break down. This one got me to the airport spendidly.

Once in the states, it was so, so good to see my family. My sister is the cutest pregnant lady ever and is going to make the coolest Mom. The baby shower was beautiful, and her little bundle of joy is going to have a better wardrobe and book collection than me. My grandmother took me out for a delicious steak dinner upon my arrival (my suitcase was still in the car). I got more than my fill of heavenly Moe’s and Chick-fil-a. I attended my Mom’s English as a Second Language class that she teaches in an elementary school and got a couple ideas for my English class. I slept in comfy beds and enjoyed hours of hot showers. It was perfect. And yet I missed Panama. The week in the states flew by, and when it was time to go, I was ready. I just wished I could have taken everyone back to Panama with me.

Once back in Panama, I stayed overnight in the Panama airport and waited for the buses to start running. A magician waiting for his flight kept the security guards and us passengers entertained until 3:00am. One trick involved fire and I thought he would be asked to stop his performances. Then, I remembered I was in Panama. A land of less worries. Leaving the airport, I waited an hour and a half to catch a bus, but they were all full. So, I decided to catch a nearly empty bus going in the opposite direction which meant a longer ride to the end of the line and back, but a ride none the less. I had both feet on the bus when the bus driver pulled away from the stop. But because I had my computer and skateboard in one hand, I had only 1 free hand to maneuver my giant suitcase filled with girlscout cookies as we were hauling along, the highway a mere foot away from my feet at the open door, until a helpful passenger yanked up my suitcase. At the end of the line, the driver said he was not continuing back immediately but took me to a location to catch a return bus. I tried to pay him double because I should have asked his schedule beforehand and appreciated him going out of the way, but he wouldn’t accept additional fare. My return bus was the same type of high class $1 bus I had used to get to the airport. Once again, though, the driver changed his mind in route about the final destination of the bus, kicked off passengers, and gave a discounted fare to make up for the inconvenience. Sheesh. I thought I was seeing things as across the intersection was the exact bus I needed for my village, a bus that is hard to come by. I ran, crossed traffic, and caught up to the bus. Luckily this driver didn’t just wag his finger, shake his head, and drive off like the last time. He opened the door, I boarded, and soon I was back home in my home sweet hut.

Nature's Skylights

Thanks to the windy season (thank goodness it is not in conjunction with the rainy season), parts of my roof have blown away, thus creating skylights. The photos are of my roof, the inside of my house (the one time it rained this season), pieces of my roof I gathered in my yard, and chickens playing in my roof palms.

Some of my buddies

Me, Melissa, and Kelly/ Andrew, his house (with a garden) and Dennis/ Dang Quesadilas at Andrew's/ Emily/ Emily, Me, and her fabulous door/ Our Christmas Tree complements of Emily

Tourists' Timing

I think I may need to start filtering my water again as I’ve had a stomach bug for a week. There is no prettier place to feel crummy, though. It’s wonderful to rest in a hammock amidst a beautiful rainforest with a crisp breeze. Until I open my eyes and see a strange women standing over me who says, “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought this was the school.” Ahhh, silly tourists. So down came the alphabet posters that the previous volunteer posted on the wall.

Sometimes, however, tourists can have impecable timing. Since I only have 1 set of sheets, I went to a laundrymat outside my community. On the way back, the bus broke down. With the hood open and several belts in hand, the bus driver’s ameliorating labors seemed promising. Then, after 10 minutes, he entered the bus and said, “Ok, I need to use someone’s cell phone.” Looked like me and my big bag of laundry were walking an hour home. Just as soon as I had paid my partial fare and hopped off the bus, a van pulled up, and a familiar face asked, “Need a ride?” Heck yes I did. So, I hopped aboard and was greeted by a group of smiling American tourists saying "Hi" in unison. Thanks to the my tour guide friend, I enjoyed a lovely, smooth, and airconditioned ride back home. Ahhh, the fabulous tourists.

Painting a Mural

Mick, kiddos, and kiddos when I wasn't looking