More Photos

The above photos are of:
~ The pesky snake that was in the roof…right over my bed
~ Nelson & I choking on marshmallows while playing Chubby Bunny
~ Jake & my boss concentrating while playing Chubby Bunny (whoever can stuff their mouth with the most marshmallows and still say Chubby Bunny is the proud winner)
~ The most incredible package in the entire world sent from my friends at my last job Young Contracting (addressed to Sister Deborah and adorned with Jesus & Church drawings as to avert Customs from messing with the package)
~ The contents of the most incredible package in the entire world which includes gum, nuts, soup, more gum, more nuts, bug-spray towelettes (fancy!), tuna, more gum, a home-made card, more nuts, travel toiletry kits, beverage mixes, ziplock bags, more gum, a frying pan (with teflon!), more nuts, hairbands, dental supplies, first-aid supplies, and more gum. All packed in tampons. Maybe that is why Customs didn’t mess with my most incredible package in the entire world.

10 Ways Life is Different in Panama:

1. Accidentally dropping things through the gaps in my kitchen floor

2. Neighbors stop by daily (and the kids are great for retrieving the objects under my house which I’ve dropped)

3. I know my neighbor’s names ~ can hardly converse with them, but at least I can address them properly before I begin to confuse them with my Spanglish babble

4. Scraps + an underhand pitch over the side of the house + 24 hours = my new garbage disposal

5. Actually using a bathing suit as it’s name suggests by bathing in a river daily

6. The only one watching the five year old girl swimming in the river is the 6 year old friend she is swimming with. Even with the lack of (adult) supervision, kids never seem to drown or fall off the side of the hut or stumble onto the knife they are running with

7. Checking the rafters of the latrine for snakes. And kids, since the latrine is a favorite hiding spots for Hide and Seek

8. Peeing off the side of the house at night (which I would rather refrain from - and probably should have refrained from mentioning - but in the middle of the night, my ladder seems so precarious and the latrine so far away)

9. Roofs make great storage: machetes, plates, money (though money is not hidden in my roof since change would get lost in a palm roof)

10. All books in the village are in my house (unless the villagers are hiding their books in their roofs). Noone seems to read recreationally here. Yet.

The First Meeting

2008 has been a series of firsts thus far. Tubing down a river lined with jungle and repelling down a waterfall in the rainforest have been some of the fun parts of my community “research” this year. Almost as nerve racking as entrusting my life to a rope hoisting me 30 meters above jagged rocks, was leading my first meeting in Spanish. I have been in the community for 2 months now learning about the culture and the needs of the village and compiled a list of potential projects to undertake. There are only 80 people in my village and all major decisions are made communally. Thus, a meeting to discuss possible projects was in order. My preparations for this meeting included a giant handrwritten list of ideas, a homemade presentation stand, a portable light for the nighttime/ outdoor meeting, cookies, accounting/ marketing prototypes, and of course, my spanish dictionary. After ringing the community bell, our meeting commenced. And it was actually fun…akward, confusing, and frustrating at times, but overrall successful. Resutlingly, our agenda for the next 2 years will include obtaining additional solar panels, obtaining/ learning to use computers, improving tourism, negotiating better tourism prices, selling more artesanry, personal finance, teaching English, Girl Scouts, sustainable agriculture, a library, presentations on health, and composting latrines.

The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night Time

(I borrowed the title for this blog from the name of a book my cousin Lauren lent me)

Eleven O’clock rolled around but I still I couldn’t sleep. Bed time here is 9:00 because that is when the generator stops providing electricity, and thus the community goes dark. I am usually comfortable in my cozy living quarters consisting of a sleeping pad, mosquito net, fabulous new pillow, and a blanket from my last airplane flight (they throw those away, right?), but I decided I might have more luck resting in the hammock. So, I exited my newly added hut walls, and sank into the hammock in the opened portion of the hut. Peaceful. Quiet. Breezy. Then, I heard something scurrying under my hut. Must be a dog or a chicken, I thought. The noise continued for a few more minutes. Curious what could be there, I approached the edge of the hut, laid down with my flashlight in hand, and peered under the hut. My flashlight dimly illuminated the culprit of the disturbance. The figure was not a dog or a chicken, but rather a man. When I yelled to know who was there, the figure crept to the other side beneath the house. So I hurried to the other side of the house, only in time to see the figure heading into the woods and out of sight.

After spending the rest of that night behind my closed and locked door not sleeping a wink, I discussed the strange incident with the Indian Chief the following morning. Although I was not able to distinguish the face of the figure in the darkness, the person was definitely a male in their twenties or thirties. I informed the Chief that I would be out of town that night for Thanksgiving, but when I returned, I would like to know who was under my hut and why~ surely there was a logical explanation.

Upon my arrival back to the community, I spoke with the Chief. (Side note- Because I am cheap, I took a midnight bus to the Thanksgiving dinner, stayed a few hours, then hopped another midnight bus back to avoid hotel expenses. This equates to no sleep for three days. When I got back to my site, the community was lugging cinder blocks from the river up a monstrous hill to the school. On my way out of site for Thanksgiving, I slipped and fell, which is a common occurrence for my graceful self seeing as though my first night in site, I fell 4 times on a pesky hill. So, what better time to practice gracing the rocky terrain than after 3 sleepless nights armed with cinder blocks that if I drop, there will won’t be enough material for the school walls). Back to my conversation with the chief. When I asked him if he had determined who had been under my house previously, he responded, “Well, who do you think it was? Maybe it was a dog.” Although his investigation was clearly fruitless, and I still to this day do not know who was under the hut, fortunately, there has not been a reoccurrence.

Painted

Photos are of me and Jake sporting Jagua Paint as well as me and my new/ free shirt from the Peace Corp's Free Bin.