January - Peace Corps Panama Friends

Transcription

January 2014
Free!
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La Vaina
January 2014
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Med Office
VAC/GAD
Seeders
Universidad del
Campo
Letter from the CD
Peace Corps Response
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18
20
21
Calle Sin Salida
But That One Thing
Poetry
Essay Contest Winners
-Funeral
-My House Missed Me
While I Was Away
-Life: A Beautiful,
Tragic Journey
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Appreciating Manual
Labor
Panaman
It’s The Little Things
Muscovy Ducks/ An
Open Letter
Citizen Cope
Strange Bedfellows
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27
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30
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“The toughest revista you’ll ever love.”
January 2014
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I’ve read over 150 books here in Panama. Not bragging; it’s just a fact. Here’s another: Odontophobia is the fear of teeth.
Though taught to be a literary snob and stick to the likes of Dostoevsky and Nabokov, you can’t read that many books and not
meander off to the realms of King and Koontz from time to time. That goes tenfold when the best option in the office library is Real
SATs II: Subject Tests.
Although I did spend plenty of time laying in my hammock confusing the neighbors by reading and it being something other than the
Bible or something for school, I did other stuff too. I climbed a greased pole. I harvested cacao. I ate armadillo and boa constrictor. I
befriended eighty year old women and saw way more naked three year olds than I ever would’ve liked.
I met plenty of books I just plain didn’t like but I can’t think of one experience that I wish I didn't have. Even the time I cracked my
head on a rock diving into the quebrada was a learning experience: don’t dive into the quebrada. Of course, there were the days
when I read for eight hours straight and the most exciting part was tucking in my mosquito net as soon as the sun went down but
those aren’t the days I’ll remember. The ones I’ll write about, that perhaps someday someone else will read for eight hours in a
hammock (preferably a couch), will be the days when the cold showers were a godsend, when my neighbors barking at each other in
Ngöberi wasn’t a nuisance but a lullaby. Where I did things I never thought I’d do (and sometimes didn’t want to) and came out the
better for it.
In the meantime, I hope you enjoy my final La Vaina and the stories herein. Even if it’s only for a trip to the latrine.
-Andrew Butler
Editor-In-Chief
Fresh faces for La Vaina
staff, preferably alive. Do
you read La Vaina and
think, psh, I can do better?
Prove it. Send a writing
sample and resume to
[email protected]
Although our much loved Panamanian fútbol team will not be
making it to Brazil for the
World Cup, in your community
the summer months are the time
for your recreation or sports
projects.
Are you building parks where
future community members can
recreate, do you have a sports
league, pictures of rain soaked
fútbol players, have pre-World
Cup insights or those embarrassing attempts at being the
lone gringa on the cancha?
Sports Illustrated is all about
community or personal recreation. Send us your story for inspiration or comedic relief, all is
welcome!
Send all submissions to
[email protected]
by April 14!
[email protected]
Andrew Butler
G70 TE
La Gloria,
Bocas del Toro
Editor-in-Chief
Annie Hines
G70 CEC
Isla Cañas,
Los Santos
Managing Editor
Lilli Schoer
G72 CEC
La Bonga Abajo,
Panama Oeste
Editor
Logan Shea
G72 TE
Rio Sereno,
Chiriquí
Editor
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Medical Reminders
La Vaina
for this clearance before you return to Panama.
There are 45 days to be medically
cleared. Otherwise, you will be
medically separated. If this happens, you will have 12 months to
be medically cleared and have
the choice to return to the same
country you were serving in. If
the clearance takes more than 12
months, you will have to apply
again.
How to contact your medical office or PCMOs:
Telephone number for supplies:
317-3309
ONLY for emergencies or health
issues: 6671-2547
We would like to remind you that
your encomienda requests for
Thursday’s delivery will be received until Wednesday at noon.
Please request your prescription
medicines with a few days of advance because sometimes we
need to request them from the
pharmacy. Do not forget to state
the place you receive your
encomiendas every time you make
a request.
Information about PIXBAE
During PST we were asked about
the nutritional facts of the Pixbae
and we promised we were going
to investigate so finally, here it is.
We found a blog called The Kalu
Yala Blog that had information
about this little palm tree fruit:
“They are frequently boiled in
salt water, a similar method used
to make boiled peanuts in the
American South, and have a soft
skin that can easily be peeled off.
I discovered that the meat of
these quarter-sized fruits had a
fantastically rich flavor and texture that hovered somewhere between artichoke heart, boiled
peanut and potato. Not only are
What to do if you get sick during
vacation time in USA or 3rd
country:
If you are on vacation at home
(continental U.S.A.) and get sick,
the first thing to do (unless it’s an
emergency) is to contact the
Office of Medical Services in D.C.
(202)692-1500. The nurses will
send you an authorization form
for your medical evaluation. You
will be placed on Medical Hold
until your doctor clears you to
return to country. You must wait
they scrumptious but incredibly
nutritious as well. As the most
balanced and nourishing tropical
fruit, it is known as the “noble
Panamanian fruit,” and here are
a few reasons why:
-92% of its skin, pulp and seed
are usable.
-It contains more protein than an
avocado, and twice the amount
found in a banana.
-It has a nutritional value comparable to the hen’s egg but without
the cholesterol.
-It can be eaten with honey, used
to make compotes and jellies, or
made into flour and edible oil.
-Rich in fiber, Pixbae contains
vitamin A, thiamin, riboflavin
(excellent for the blood), niacin
(very good supplement to keep
good eyesight), ascorbic acid, calcium and other nutrients”.
Nutrition summary:
-Calories: 185
-Fat: 4.2g
-Carbohydrates: 4g
-Protein: 3.3g
Calorie breakdown: 56% fat, 24%
carbohydrates, 20% protein.
There are 185 calories in 1 serving
of Panama Pixbae.
January 2014
VAC that
Thang Up
Thanks to everyone for coming
out to Cerro Punta to celebrate
Thanksgiving with VAC! As
usual, VAC was busy reading
through your awesome project
ideas and awarding grants.
Congratulations to all the grant
winners and good luck with your
projects! Here’s how some of
your fellow Volunteers are
utilizing their grants:
Jordan Varble will be using a
VAC grant to purchase Coliscan
Easygels Water Sampling Kits.
These kits will educate community members and increase enthusiasm for obtaining clean
water, as well as increase interest
in various water treatment methods.
Sara Walsh is using her grant to
organize a two day eco camp for
the kids in her site. The camp
focuses on exploring different
animal habitats and how humans
impact these habitats.
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GAD NEWS!
WORLD AIDS DAY!
December 1st, 2013
FLASHMOB for HIV/AIDS
awareness took place in Panama
City on December 1st on the Cinta Costera. Peace Corps Volunteers danced their hearts out
with a series of choreographed
routines to get passers-by to stop
in their tracks and think about
HIV/AIDS. A super high-five to
all the dancers that made this
happen! A super, jumping high
ten to Nick Bringardner (G70)
and Lindsey Pothast (G70) for
your dedication, patience and
passion in choreographing,
teaching and leading the dances!
Wow!
5K in El Valle de Anton, Coclé
for HIV/AIDS awareness took
place on December 14th. A great
big thank you to Claudia Garcia
(G70) for coordinating such an
awesome awareness event. For
those of you who ran, helped or
hung out, mad props are
deserved!
Alexandra Ondik is planning a
charla called “La Belleza Natural”
that will teach women in her
community how to use natural
and readily available products in
a huge variety of uses. She will
focus on the uses of aloe vera,
coconut oil and baking soda.
The next round of grant applications will be due shortly after the
regional meeting in January so be
sure to send your ideas to
[email protected].
[email protected]
Woman's Artisan Seminar is
coming up in April! (tentative
dates April 21st-25th). It's a
chance for women in your community to participate in a week
long seminar where they will
learn how to make new artisan
work and share their own. Other
charla topics include: business
skills, self-esteem, sexual health,
family planning and domestic
violence. Keep an eye out for the
application (coming soon) in order to send two lovely, motivated women from your community
to the 2014 seminar.
If you are interested in facilitating, contact Lauren Hayes (G71)
or Soraya Place (G71)!
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La Vaina
L. Hayes
The Man. We should say the men
and women because all kinds of
Volunteers from George Place to
Lauren Hayes to Whitney Mack-Obi
to Alex Masarie to Sydney Morgan
to Soraya Place and community
members from Gonzalezes to
Sanchezes to Rojases to Vegases
showed up to play.
The Plan. Explore topics related to
domestic violence for an hour or so
each Sunday después de la misa
according to the following agenda:
Sunday Uno = Vida Sana, Pueblo Sano
– Gender Roles
Sunday Dos = Divide up: Woman's
Group on Domestic Violence; Men's
Group on Masculinity
Sunday Tres = Violence in the Media
Sunday Cuatro = Proyecto de Arte “Las Manos No Son Para Golpear”
The Canal. Is in Panama and upon
first glance has nothing to do with
any of this. Our charlas were at the
world famous Capilla de San Juanito.
Our goal, mission and purpose was
that everyone grow just a little more
awareness in their hearts and minds
about domestic violence and its distressingly far-reaching fingers. We
talked root causes, common myths,
gender issues and how to just be
peaceful and not hit one another
when we get mad.
“OUR GOAL,
MISSION AND
PURPOSE WAS THAT
EVERYONE GROW
JUST A LITTLE
MORE AWARENESS
IN THEIR HEARTS
AND MINDS ABOUT
DOMESTIC
VIOLENCE AND ITS
DISTRESSINGLY FAR
REACHING
FINGERS.”
January 2014
Sunday
Uno.
Sunday
Dos.
What we did.
What we learned.
The gender card sorting game to
describe biological sex versus
expressed gender.
No surprise, the campo has strong gender division of
labor due to the relative difficulty of everyday life.
Division of labor as a team effort is reasonable when
you recognize it is not related to our biological sex
but rather cultural and historical gender roles.
(Women) The cycle of power and control, perpetrator
mentality and signs of an abusive relationship are
(Women) El ciclo de abuso, señales de una new information for many, some were moved to the
relación abusiva y ¿por qué él hace eso?
point of tears.
(Men) The “man box” activity about
societal expectations of masculinity.
Sunday
Tres.
Sunday
Cuatro.
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(Men) There is strong group pressure to “act like a
man” and you may get called names if you step out
of this “man box.” It's a cycle that cultivates
aggression in men, the majority perpetrators of
domestic abuse.
It caused quite a stir that Photoshop is used to edit
the newspaper cover girls in such publications as La
Everyone had a check-list homework
Critica y El Siglo. Folks certainly understood
to observe violence and gender roles en beforehand real women do not have the “nalgonas” y
los medios de comunicación.
“tetonas” portrayed in these images, but the idea that
computer editing is behind it all makes it all the more
ludicrous.
“Las manos no son para golpear” art
project, folks take an oath to not hit
and then stamp their hand print on a
bed sheet.
Everyone was totally game to get their hand dirtied
up in latex paint and slap it on the community art
work!
[email protected]
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La Vaina
harvested during the waxing moon
are juicier because of the increased
liquid in the plants. Fertilizers dilute
in soils faster during this time so are
more effectively used by root systems.
Lunar Phases: A good excuse
to avoid the finca, or legit
agricultural technique?
Hallie Richard
National Seeder Coordinator,
Coclé
Have you ever heard someone in
your community say they can’t
harvest or plant because of ‘la mala
luna’? And just maybe, did you
think they were making up excuses
to avoid going out to the finca? Or
maybe your freshly planted
tomatoes were brutally eaten
during the night, and the unconsoling response you get
from your host mom was that
you planted in a ‘luna llena’.
I’ll admit it. When I needed
wood to be cut for a project
and my counterpart told me
that we had to wait weeks for
‘la luna menguante’, a waning moon, I
threw a little tantrum. Shame on
me. Then I listened.
We know that the phases of the
moon influence ocean tides. The water level and gravitational force increase during the new moon until
the full moon, when moisture content is at its height, and diminish
until the moon ends the cycle on the
net new moon. A waxing moon
(creciente) brings higher tides, and a
waning moon (menguante) correlates
with lower tides. The phases of the
moon also influence ground water,
plant sap and insect activity too.
Think of the moisture content in the
soil and the sap in the trees like the
ocean. Imagine the new moon bringing the liquids closer to the surface,
and the waning phases pulling them
back down.
Here’s a handy chart for us visual
learners:
So, how exactly do the moons phases influence the botanical world?
When the moon is growing and water is ascending, new plants and
young roots can easily access water.
This accelerates growth, while pruning mature trees when moisture is
high encourages new and vigorous
growth. Fleshy fruits and vegetables
A shrinking moon, when the liquids
in plants and the water in the soil are
descending, will delay upward
growth and increase root growth.
The moon isn’t pulling up during
this time, the earth is pulling down.
Plants have less moisture in them, so
now is the time to cut trees for wood
because less moisture means it will
dry faster. A waning moon is also the
time to plant from cuttings, bulbs,
and roots (like yucca, spinach, and
otoe) because the downward pull
accelerates root growth. Now is also
the time to chopear your patio!
A full moon’s effect on insects is easily observed, but
why does it happen? Insects are attracted to light,
and a full moon illuminates
nocturnal animals’ hunting
grounds or salad bars. The
full moon also means that moisture
content in plants is high, so new
plantlings are extra succulent.
So, the next time you hear a community member mention the moon, listen up. Whether they only know
they aren’t supposed to harvest penca
on a new moon, or they school you
on the virtues of lunar phases, it will
be an interesting conversation!
Good: planting, harvesting
edibles, pruning for
growth
Growing,
Waxing, Creciente
Bad: trees for wood
Good: harvest wood,
chopear, plant roots
Bad: plant and harvest
veggies
Shrinking,
Waning,
Menguante
January 2014
Contact Your Local Seeder’s Rep.
Have a garden question? Want to know about seeds?
Need help with a vivero? Your regional Seeders Coordinators are here to help! They can answer questions, provide seeds, or even come out for a site visit! Contact
them directly or email [email protected]!
How does the Seeders seed bank work? Each region has
a box filled with a variety of seeds, from vegetable basics,
to reforestation species, and a lot in between. Seeds are
free and are great resources for community projects, but
seeds also need to be put back into the box for the seed
bank to continue.
Think of a seed bank like a bank account. You take money out and it’s awesome. But you can’t continue to make
withdrawals unless you are also depositing money too.
In this case, the seeds are free to take, but seeds need to
be donated in return in order to not overdraw your account, right?
Or think of it like ‘The Ultimate Seed Challenge’: By taking these seeds, you challenge yourself to go back to site,
plant those seeds and grow some kickass tomatoes. Then
you must figure out how to properly preserve those
seeds (hint: your regional seeders coordinator can help!)
and at the next regional meeting, bam! Return some seeds
to the seed bank.. Sounds fun, right?
Mulch Madness
George Place
G71 SAS, Ngäbe-Buglé
Staple Crop Coordinator
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Regardless of how you irrigate (grey water, rain catchment
or full season spring source) you need to develop an infectious case of . . . mulch madness! You probably know that
covering your soil is a good thing but you may not be
aware of all of the benefits, so let’s review.
In regards to your dry season irrigation plan, mulch is
critical in the following ways:
Moisture retention – a mulched soil will not lose nearly as
much water to the evaporative effects of sunlight as a bare
soil. A Kentucky study demonstrated that surface evaporation losses were 5 times greater in a bare soil than in a
mulched soil.
Moisture holding capacity – frequent mulching will gradually increase the soil organic matter (SOM) content in
your soil. Arkansas soil scientists report that for every 1%
gain in SOM your soil will hold 1.5 more liters of water per
cubic foot.
Soil temperature – a bare soil can have dramatic temperature swings resulting in increased water loss and plant
stress while a mulched soil will have a more stable temperature.
Water infiltration – the dry season will often bring a few
unexpected rain showers. A mulched soil will allow for
more efficient infiltration than the bare soil.
Mulch madness isn’t just for the dry season. Soil cover is a
key component in an effective integrated pest management
(IPM) system. Mulch will dramatically reduce the presence of weeds, increase habitat for predatory insects, and –
Gardens and fresh veggies – you love
them (it’s in the fine print that you
signed when you joined Peace Corps, so
just nod and read on) but unfortunately, the summer months can put a halt to
your fresh home produce unless you
have a dry season game plan. Your dry
season garden will reap the rewards if
you started your garden with a deep
double digging and ample mixing of
compost. This initial bed prep is a long
term game plan for dry season survival
as it will greatly increase the water
holding capacity of your garden bed as
well as the volume of soil that your
plant roots can access. Of course, irrigation is a necessity but there are a variety of strategies whose descriptions
we’ll save for . . . ahem . . . a rainy day.
G.Place
[email protected]
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(Cont. from previous page)
least appreciated but most important
for diseases like early and late blight
in tomato – prevent soil from splashing onto your plants during an irrigation event (i.e. rain drop impact).
Soil splash is a common way for
some fungal spores to spread
through your garden.
Mulch is not a perfect IPM practice
as it does have its biological tradeoffs. Increased mulch can be an attractant to some insect pests such as
slugs or crickets. Increased ground
cover can also result in increased
pythium (a fungal pest) infestations.
However, the enormous and varied
benefits of mulching will almost always outweigh the potential for
these ground cover loving pests.
There are a variety of organic mulches that can be used: leaves (dry or
green), grass clippings, bark, paper
scraps, wood chips, rice husks, etc.
and it just depends on your strategy.
If you want the mulch to break down
faster and add organic matter and
nutrients to the soil choose mulch
with a higher ratio of nitrogen to carbon (i.e. green leaves). If you want
the mulch to last longer for a better
weed barrier choose sources with
lower nitrogen to carbon ratio (i.e.
wood chips). Be aware that some tree
species have residues in the wood
that may be unfavorable for plant
growth. Don’t use mulches like
wood if you plan on tilling your garden and eventually working the
mulch into the soil. Mixing wood
chips or other low nitrogen to carbon
material into the soil, rather than
leaving it on the surface as mulch,
will result in a temporary nitrogen
vacuum as soil microorganisms will
suck up soil available nitrogen as
their populations build while breaking down the material. This nitrogen
vacuum can stunt your plants and
reduce garden yields.
La Vaina
My favorite mulch system is a mix of
newspaper, leaf decay, and canavalia
or sweet potato leaves. I use this system to deliver a steady source of nutrients to my crop, eliminate weeds,
and fight my arch nemesis, the leaf
cutter ants. In this system, the first
layer on the soil is scrap paper or
cardboard. This is the weed barrier.
On top of the paper put ample
amounts of decayed leaf matter (I fill
buckets of this goodness from the
scrub area around our house). The
final layer is a complete covering of
canavalia (Canavalia ensiformis) or
sweet potato (Ipomoea batatas) leaves.
Recall that leaf cutter ants are farmers, cultivating with leaf cuttings a
symbiotic fungus (Leucoagaricus gongilophorus) underground that they
feed from. If you can reduce the
growth of this fungus the population
of the leaf cutters will also decline.
Several studies published in the
Journal of Applied Entomology have
demonstrated that daily feeding by
leaf cutter ants on canavalia or sweet
potato leaves resulted in reduced
fungus size and higher ant mortality.
In one study, a complete depletion of
nests was seen after five weeks of
daily feeding on sweet potato leaves.
Similarly, daily feeding of canavalia
reduced fungus size by over 95%
and resulted in complete nest depletion after 11 weeks. Canavalia has
the additional benefit of being a very
good nitrogen fixer, thus its leaves
will deliver a steady source of nitrogen to your crop. Plant canavalia
and sweet potato around and within
your garden to allow frequent pruning of the leaves for this mulching
system. Add another cap of the
whole mulch system at least once a
month for a raging case of mulch
madness – one that will drive your
neighbors into a frenzy as they declare that the gringa must be insane.
This opinion will shift once they see
your bulging tomatoes and abundant squash. That’s when the madness becomes infectious.
Universidad al
Campo (UAC)
Update
Soraya Place
The Universidad al Campo (UAC)
program was initiated in the Comarca Ngäbe-Buglé in the fall of 2012
with a handful of PCVs and the Facultad de Ciencias Agropecuarias
(FCAP) in Chiriquí (University of
Panama’s main school for agriculture and animal husbandry). The
program began with a simple concept: an increase in agricultural production and sustainability requires
educational investment in the next
generation of young farmers. Access
to university education is widely
available to Panamanians and incredibly affordable ($40 per semester
at the FCAP). The problem is that no
one is telling the youth in isolated
communities throughout Panama.
The UAC program is working on
two levels. The broad based orientation is designed to reach as many 6th
year (senior year) high school students as possible. We visit high
schools in a region to explain what
the university programs of study are
and what kinds of careers they could
have with degrees in those programs
(students in isolated areas often aspire to work as teachers because they
don’t know about other professions).
We then orient students to the ad-
“We are currently
supporting 15
incoming Ngäbe
students to the
FCAP with
assistance in
transitioning to
university life...”
January 2014
missions calendar, dates of entrance
exams, fees, leveling courses (for
students not passing certain exams),
scholarship opportunities, and how
to fill out paperwork for financial
aid. We are currently supporting 15
incoming Ngäbe students to the
FCAP with assistance in transitioning to university life, working on
campus to cover dorm and cafeteria
fees, utilizing university health services, navigating the library and
computer lab, securing available
scholarships and financial aid, managing money and effectively communicating with professors and
university staff.
Several PCVs have expressed interest in helping to connect youth to
opportunities in higher education.
The first step is to investigate what
public and private universities are
located within your region. The
University of Panama website provides a listing (albeit slightly outdated) of regional campuses (centros
regionales), extension facilities
(extensiones), annexes (anexos), and
university seats (sedes) along with
degree programs available at each
location. Visit the university, introduce yourself to faculty and staff,
and talk to administration about
existing programs for high school
orientation and campus visits. It is
also useful to begin inquiring into
where students can live near campus. If the university does not have
a dormitory sometimes there are
other low income housing options
with religious groups, IFARHU, or
private room rentals.
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“This beca is so widely available that last
year all 244 applications from the
comarca Ngäbe-Buglé were approved.”
and pay $30 and take the psychological test (basic math, figure recognition, and general aptitudes). The
Phase II consists of the Academic
Entrance Exam (Prueba de Capacidades
Académicas—basic math and reading
comprehension) and the General
Knowledge Exam (Prueba de Conocimientos Generales—25 multiple choice
questions for each of the subjects of
biology, chemistry, physics, and
math) taken on a specific Saturday in
mid October and mid November,
relatively. The Phase III is the release
of test results in mid December. If
applicants do not pass the entrance
exams they can take a one month
leveling course from mid January to
mid February (cost is $40). Course
enrollment occurs at the end of February (applicants need 2 copies of
their diploma, 2 photos (tamaño de
cedula), and all high school grades
with the official seal. Courses begin
in early March. The regular semester
tuition is $40 and summer semester
is $50 but there is a rumor that the
The University of Panama FCAP
admissions schedule begins with
Phase I lasting from June until mid
October. In this period, students
register for admissions (they must
present their cédula or original birth
certificate, 4th and 5th year grades
with an official seal (créditos de 4th
and 5th año, los boletines no valen!),
government will cover this tuition
fee in 2014. Paperwork for becas de
asistencia finaciera can be filled out
with IFARHU after tuition is paid.
This application may take more than
6 months to process but once
approved students can receive $125
per month, dependent upon reasonable grade maintenance (above a 1.0
on the university grade scale of 0 to
3). This beca is so widely available
that last year all 244 applications
from the comarca Ngäbe-Buglé were
approved.
The UAC staff is eager and willing
to help any of you make connections
and initiate a program in your regions. Please contact Soraya Place
(UAC Coordinator) with any
questions, suggestions, lessons
learned and success stories at
[email protected] and visit
our Facebook page at Universidad Al
Campo to see more of the project and
watch our 5 minute video about the
UAC project.
S.Place
[email protected]
12
La Vaina
A Letter From The Country
Director A little something from Señor Pete
Dear all,
I wanted to wish all of you a happy holiday season. I know many
of you will be heading back to the
US or to see friends and family in
various parts of the world. Enjoy
your time, but of course, be safe.
For many of us, it seems like the
year is coming to an end and
things are starting to slow down.
But for many of us, November
and December is preparation
time for what is to come. Peace
Corps Panama has some exciting
things planned and we hope to
roll them out in 2014. We are definitely gearing up for G74, who
will arrive in February. We also
have the regional meetings in January and are working on some
behind-the-scenes-but-big-picture
issues that we hope will improve
the Peace Corps experience. For
example, we are working on rolling out the VRT and MRE tools
which will improve the quality of
information that we collect for
monitoring and evaluation. We
have some big plans to improve
how well we use information related to site development as well
as security. Although these things
may not be immediately relevant
to the day to day lives of Volunteers, they are important tools
that will help inform what Peace
Corps Panama does, why and
where. Of course we will continue to use and incorporate PCV
input as well, but the more information we have, the better. We
also hope to roll out a new Peace
Corps Panama web page in early
2014 which we hope will help not
only with information sharing for
current PCVs but also with recruitment and to attract the best
candidates to Panama. That is
just a taste of what is to come.
Lots more. Keep your eyes open!
I want to give a shout out to G70.
I had the opportunity to chat
with them during their COS
conference. Although they still
have 3 months to go, we all know
that times moves a lot more
quickly than we think it does.
Kudos to you for all your hard
work during these last two years.
I will not forget the flash mob in
the training room any time soon.
In fact, I think we will now start
all our staff meetings with a
dance!
So, be happy, safe and have lots
of fun this holiday season.
Un abrazo
Pete
“We also hope to roll
out a new Peace Corps
Panama web page in
early 2014.”
January 2014
13
Literal Conversations
Sarah Strong
Peace Corps Panama Friends Secretary
Becca Beitsch
G70 TE, Veraguas
Me: Goods?
All Peace Corps Volunteers know…
Vecino: Teeeeeeeacher. How it
go you?
you don’t know
what you’ve got
until its gone... hot
water, air
conditioning…
toilet paper.
Me: I went running. I smell ugly.
How are you? How is the family?
Vecino: Good. I don’t know if
you knew, but Luis is in the city,
working.
Don’t let Panama
get away too, stay
connected!
Me: He moved himself?
You may not be
aware, but for the
past 20 years,
Peace Corps Panama Friends (PCPF) has been actively supporting
PCVs and RPCVs alike. Current Volunteers, such as yourself, are supported through sales of the VAC Panama calendars. Proceeds from the
calendars are returned to VAC and help fund the small grants that
help kick start so many Volunteer projects. PCPF also actively promotes Volunteer initiatives and projects. PCPF helps returned Volunteers maintain their connection to Peace Corps, to Panama and to each
other through networking, social events and regional opportunities.
Vecino: Yes, to earn that silver.
Me: Porkchop! Who me going to
help kill the scorpions good big?
Vecino: With the feet, well.
There is to have care.
Me: Maybe it’s time for a machete (suffix: strike).
Another way PCPF serves RPCVs is by keeping a database of all returned Panama Volunteers so that RPCVs can connect more easily. For
example, say you find yourself back in the States and have gotten a job
or are starting school in a city you don’t know much about. Contact
PCPF and we will look in our database to see if you have any Panama
RPCVs in that area who may be going to that university, living in that
area or be able to show you around or offer you advice. We will contact them to let them know someone is interested, and they will reach
out to you directly. We will never give anyone your contact information without your request. In order to use this service, you need to
become a Registered Member by visiting us at www.panamapcv.net
and clicking ‘Register’ or visit us on LinkedIn and Facebook!
Vecino: Ah the beast!
We anticipate big things for the future of Peace Corps Panama Friends
and new, creative ideas to keep you connected to Panama, Peace Corps
and each other, and we hope you will become a part of this vital network!
Me: We see each other now.
[email protected]
--- Begins to rain so hard conversation is impossible for 30
minutes --Vecino: Much water. It gives me
laziness.
Me: I also. Ok, I go.
Vecino: Goooooooood.
14
Noticias de
Peace Corps
Response
Tess De Los Ríos
APCD PC Response
Con pena les cuento que ya han pasado 2 años desde que escribo algo
para La Vaina. The time has come. Peace Corps Response
boasts an all-time high of eight
Volunteers in country at the moment and while one will have
said adiós in December, two more will have arrived by the time
this La Vaina hits Regional Meetings.
If you have yet to have had the
pleasure to meet a real, live Response Volunteer, es con orgullo
que les presento, in no particular
order, the great 8 we have in
country as of December:
La Vaina
tion, etc. If you have a group of
kids who need a little direction,
connect with Ken to learn how to
focus their energy.
Bob Arias (Colombia RPCV,
Panama, Paraguay & Colombia
RPCRV) – Bob is, geographically,
the farthest reaching Response
Volunteer as he hangs his hat in
La Selva de Bayamon, Sambu.
Bob works supporting the artesano group Asociación Jumara
Juwa in improving their business
plan, marketing strategies and
overall organizational structure.
In the world of Peace Corps,
there is little that Bob hasn’t seen
or done. When seeking inspiration, look no further than Flaco
Bob!
Ashley Stonecipher (Paraguay
RPCV) – If you are ever passing
through Pedasí, cruise by the
colegio to see the amazing work
that Ashley is spearheading as an
initiative by Azuero Earth Project. Ashley has teamed up with
the students and Profesora de Agricultura to create a school garden
in an organic, environmentally
friendly way. She has also
worked to promote better nutrition among the students and
their families by preparing different foods with the vegetables
from the garden.
Ryan Dibala (Ecuador RPCV) –
Ryan is also teaming up with
Azuero Earth Project in Pedasi,
however, his assignment is supporting their Forest Restoration
project. Thus far, Ryan’s 9 month
assignment has been comprised
of revamping the strategic plan
for the next 10 years of reforestation along the corridor. In addition to this work, he hosted Bo-
“IF YOU HAVE YET TO HAVE HAD THE PLEASURE
TO MEET A REAL, LIVE RESPONSE VOLUNTEER, ES
CON ORGULLO QUE LES PRESENTO, THE GREAT 8
WE HAVE IN COUNTRY AS OF DECEMBER.”
Kenneth Hartman (Panama
RPCV) – As many of you are
aware, Ken is our ultimate connection with Ultimate Without
Borders. Ken is based out of Penonomé where he is working
with high school clubs. He is
spreading the wealth by working
in a handful of other PCV communities to train coaches, teachers, PCVs and youth in Ultimate.
He is also teaching numerous
youth development skills such as
conflict resolution, positive interactions, teamwork, communica“The toughest revista you’ll ever love.”
January 2014
cashi and Bomba Ariete talleres for
los ganaderos de Valle Riquito.
Sonia Esquibel (Panama RPCV)
– Two schools in Chitré are turning their trash into cash thanks to
Sonia. She has teamed up with
MEDUCA and el Municipio de
Chitré to kick off two pilot
recycling projects. Sonia has done
outstanding work to date by
sparking behavior change in
close to 2,000 students in these
schools and while initially signing on for a 6 month stint, an extension may be well served as the
demand for her support in this
recycling pilot project is exceptional.
Vanessa Kirn (Panama RPCV &
RPCRV) – Vanessa first landed
in Panama in 2005 as a CEC PCV
in Coclé. From there, she transferred to Peace Corps Response
for 6 months to support an Emergency Response in Rural Areas
project and now she is back for
more! Vanessa will be based in
Panama City while working with
the Smithsonian and Yale’s Environmental Leadership and Training Initiative on a Watershed
Management assignment.
Craig Giesecke (Nicaragua
RPCV & Panama RPCRV) –
Craig, like his wife Vanessa, was
a Response Volunteer in Panama
in 2007 and has come back for
round two. He will be supporting
Smithsonian’s Amphibian Rescue
and Conservation Project based
in Gamboa for six months. Yes,
this assignment is as cool as it
sounds. Craig will be directly
working with the handful of individuals responsible for capturing
and maintaining amphibians,
15
while other scientists do their best to
control the fungus
that is endangering
these little creatures. Furthermore,
Craig will work to
build local capacity
for the protection,
management and
conservation of amphibian species.
David
Lawler
(Honduras RPCV) – David has
come on board for a 6 month assignment with the UNDP’s
Global Environmental Facility
Small Grants Program projects in
Darién. He is based out of Metetí
but will be kept busy by supporting between 8 and 12 community based organizations in
numerous aspects of their individual projects.
I am jumping the gun a bit, but if
all goes as planned, by the time
this La Vaina hits your hands,
there will be two additional
PCRVs at Post. Another Panama
RPCV is back on the isthmus—
Jeremy Wierenga is here to support RPCV Jessica Fort and her
work in Parque Nacional Cerro
Hoya. Jeremy will
train Eco-guides who
work in the park and
he will also be cofacilitating charlas on
Jessica’s study activities and the importance of park conservation.
Out in the comarca
Ngöbe-Bugle, Panama
RPCV Briana Drake
will be conducting
[email protected]
analyses of community water
systems that Waterlines has
funded and will further design
community based water system
rehabilitation plans when necessary. Bri will also be training water committees in water system
troubleshooting, operation,
maintenance and management
techniques.
And as always, para los que estén
acercado a sus fechas de COS y
quieren saber que hay nuevo de
parte de Peace Corps Response,
que sea a nivel de Panamá o a nivel
mundial, no dude en acércame para
ver si hay oportunidades de interés.
Until next time, enjoy the dry
season.
people may ask themselves, which is the
real Franklin Cano?!
16
La Vaina
Calle Sin Salida
Andrew Butler G70 TE, Bocas del Toro
The sweat ran into puddles at
Benny’s feet when he stopped. Pencils slipped in his fingers and fell to
the ground. “Barato,” he said to a
woman’s back. He bent to pick them
up and the line of taxi drivers at the
curb turned away, shaking their
heads. He nipped from the bottle in
his back pocket.
Benny reached for an arm bustling
past and pulled back when the man
turned out to be police. He only
wanted to know the time. His gringa
would arrive soon. True, there
would be no time to bathe before
the express from San Jose pulled up
to the piquera, the sluggish disembarking as if for the past few hours,
they had been in slow motion, suddenly thrust into real time. Feigning
familiarity, self-important airs of
knowing where to go. His gringa
wouldn’t have to worry. Benny
would be waiting.
He offered a handful of multicolored pencils to a bus idling for Finca
4. A baby reached a curled hand
towards them but before making
contact, the mother pulled it back.
Benny shook the pencils in the baby’s face as the mother’s stare
burned a hole in the windshield.
“¿Quieres?” Benny asked.
The baby squirmed in its mother’s
arms until she relented and let the
baby grip a claw around a yellow
pencil. It popped the pink eraser in
its mouth. Benny held out his hand
but before he named a price, the pavo
pushed him back and the door slid
shut.
It wasn’t the first time he lost out on
a profit. Pencils broke and buses left.
It wasn’t a bother until the heat started to poke at him, prodding into his
pores so that it seeped into his head
and parted something aside so that
the black thoughts came in. When he
had last changed his shirt, where he
slept. When people started to notice
him and not because of the rock in
his step but the lack of it, his narrowed eyes opened wide, when he
reached in his pockets and came up
with less than enough for a picha.
With his gringa, he would sleep in a
bed. With her friends, she would
speak English and eventually he
would learn, but for now, he would
get by with pointing, hand gestures
and the meeting of their
eyes. For now she
would pay and he
would receive it all with
la luna y las nubes, la sombra of white.
“The couple stood, a quick
kiss on each cheek, moving in
separate directions in the
stream of pedestrians.”
***
A couple sitting on a bench held
their heads together, speaking low
into each other’s mouths. They eyed
one another, charting maps of flesh
to memory. For them there was no
bustle and dust of travelers, no destinations called out. This was the destination. But there was no always. It
was, as for Benny, how the dark
came hours before it should and no
one else seemed to notice. It still happened. He had no one to warn him
when it was no longer safe there.
They stopped talking as Benny
neared, the man glancing over his
shoulder to check on the buses. As a
greeting, Benny offered a pair of pencils. The woman looked past him. A
drunk man whose name Benny
couldn’t remember slapped him on
the back. He held onto Benny’s
shoulder for support and the passing
travelers widened their berth to accommodate the man’s sway.
The couple looked in opposite directions. The woman checked a cell
phone. The man’s eyes followed a
girl crossing the street in Changuinola, sometime in la tarde.
The borracho prodded Benny in the
ribs and asked to borrow money.
Esta garrapata, whose buzzard eyes
were already wandering to the couple and the woman’s cell phone, seeing nothing but deep pockets that
wouldn’t even be there if Benny hadn’t noticed them. Benny dug out a
handful of change, most of what he
had, and dumped it in the borracho’s
hands, enough to make him go
away.
January 2014
“¿Un poquito?” the borracho asked,
pointing at Benny’s pocket bottle as
he tried to maneuver his way to the
seated couple. Benny held his arms
up to the man’s chest. It didn’t matter. The couple stood, a quick kiss
on each cheek, moving in separate
directions in the stream of pedestrians.
Benny thumped the borracho on the
chest with the back of his hand and
asked for his money back. The
drunk’s watery eyes concentrated
on Benny and he tried again to maneuver around, la garrapata assuming that Benny’s body simply obscured his proper goal. Benny
thumped the man again. The widening berth stopped to watch the two
men. The police would come and
this time, Benny was sober enough
to know it didn’t matter that it was
his money in the drunk’s hands. It
was enough that he was there, stemming the flow so that the police
were given reason to swim through
the heat.
On the street, an oversized bus
passed, yellow letters on blue, advertising the connection of two
countries, Costa Rica-Panama. The
bus pulled around the corner and
disappeared, air brakes hissing to a
stop at the inert curb. Benny lowered his head to avoid the police’s
profiling. He knocked shoulders
with the drunk and left his money to
be spent by someone else. It was his
last penance; his gringa had arrived.
By the time Benny reached the corner, the bus was already empty. The
luggage was doled out to its owners,
many of them Ticos and Panamanians themselves, wearily flagging
down taxis and hugging people they
knew, climbing into cars that would
pack them off to homes of relatives
or even their own. A group of sun
flushed blonde girls stood in a circle
around an open book. The one holding the book wore dangerously short
jean shorts and a tank top that when
she moved, revealed two strips of
white flesh. Benny imagined it continuing into twin carriles that clipped
off around her waist.
Yes, his gringa had arrived.
He tucked his pencils into a back
pocket, slowly stepping towards
them. He had come quickly before
and they had run twice as fast. He
swayed only a little so that if the
gringa’s tan lines were laid down to
walk on, he would barely stray from
them.
They looked at him in turns, continuing to speak together in a language
Benny didn’t understand. His gringa
shuffled to the back of the book and
mumbled out a greeting. Her friends
giggled nervously and Benny smiled.
He pointed to their luggage. They
shrugged and his gringa quizzically
said, “Bocas?”
There wasn’t a crowd but people
were watching. They saw him there
with his gringa, really there, and soon
everything would be happening. The
sun beat at Benny’s eyes but soon
there would be air conditioning and
not just a picha but a case. Soon there
would be the exchange of where they
were from and the last time he spoke
to his mother and he would grow so
excited, she would have to ask him
to slow down. She would have to
[email protected]
17
“Yes, his gringa
had arrived.”
kiss him to slow the words that
moved as a stream passing through a
narrow, plugging the choro of his
mouth with her own and when she
came away, the words would run, as
even if she didn’t understand it all,
she was listening for as long as he
was speaking.
The San Jose bus backed away from
the curb the way it came, the pavo
waving it into the one-way road. The
bus beeped as if in protest. The only
hindrance was a glaring red sign,
silent letters that served as a warning, if the driver bothered to read it.
No one would’ve said a thing if not
for a taxi pulling in, laying on the
horn, waving the bus forward. When
the taxi parked the bus could pass on
and even if police came along, his
mind could be changed, the rules
could be bent. The driver wasn’t
paid to take the right of way but the
straightest line that the curves of the
road allowed.
It was a short walk to the Almirante
bus, an hour on the bus before any
money was due for the ride. Benny
would speak slowly and help with
the book, use the little English he
possessed which wasn’t much but
something.
He offered the girls the rest of his
pencils, gratis.
*
18
La Vaina
But That One Thing
Nick Duckworth G70 CEC, Los Santos
The afternoon rain started to let up
the final few kilometers of his journey back home. It had been his home
once at least, though he never honestly thought he would’ve come
back to it. The rental car rumbled as
he turned onto the gravely entrance
road. He admired the old town’s
ability to stay the same after so many
years. The bus stop was new which
was hardly a surprise since it was
barely standing when he left; he’d
meant to do something about it but
the end of his service snuck up on
him.
He thought back to the Volunteer
reunion the day before; it was pleasant enough to see everyone after so
many years. Of course, the one thing
that never seemed to change was
how these events never seemed to
end. His heart skipped a quick beat
when he saw the tall, slender woman
who used to live on the other side of
that little country. Despite the turkey, the noodles and the pounds of
butter in the paunches between
them, they once sparked an ephemeral flame in a warm cabin in the
dark, foggy mountains. It should
have held, their thing, but the end of
their service snuck up on them and
she ended up living on the other side
of another, much larger country
right after. Her blonde hair was
shorter and a little lighter than it
used to be, now that she dyed it, and
she was a little more wizened
around the edges,
too, but she still exuded that relaxed
beauty no one else
had exuded since.
They spoke for a bit
and he met her tall,
all-American, hairall-there husband.
Eighteen years, she
said. She didn’t
waste any time once
they got back, did
she? And that guy
could have at least
feigned a little jealousy, right? As cordial as she was, her
eyes let slip the quiet pity she felt for
him, with his still
being single and
unma rried
a nd
alone and all. Emasculating.
K. Moy
Well, the road in this town was still
pretty ugly, wasn’t it? There was the
old avocado tree beside the store in
front of which he spent many a night
laughing, telling stories and drinking
with the other guys. That means you
couldn’t say he’d accomplished
nothing in those two years. He
parked the small, silver sedan on the
muddy patch in front of the store
with no one in or around it.
“Buenas,” he yelled. He waited.
“Buenas?” he yelled.
Somewhere behind the trees Sandra
sang back to him, ‘Busca, busca como
quieras’. Dios, was she even still
alive? ‘Busca, busca como quie—‘.
“Hola,” came the response from a
man about ten years younger than he
was.
They looked at each other for a few
seconds as he searched for the face in
his memory.
“Johan?” he asked.
It was, and Johan remembered him,
too.
“How have you been?” Johan asked
him in Spanish, though he would go
on to remember every line of their
conversation as if it were spoken in
English.
“Quite good, thanks,” he said. “And
yourself?”
His Spanish un-rusted a little as the
conversation continued. Regardless
of how the previous days—years
even—had gone, he was relieved to
January 2014
make a good connection. He felt better. Johan went on to explain that his
father, who had owned the store,
had passed away some years ago
and casually mentioned he ran it
with his husband after that.
“Wait, your husband?” he retorted.
It wasn’t really a secret that Johan
had ever been able to hide, even
when he was a teenager, but he was
surprised that they felt comfortable
enough to call each other ‘husband’
living in this permanently provincial
place. It still wasn’t legal here but
maybe the people had come a long
way since his time as a Volunteer.
He wondered if Johan’s husband
was in the house.
“Yes, my husband and I. Before he
died.”
Johan looked down at the floor, then
back up at him.
“Oh, I’m very sorry, Johan,” he said,
not really knowing what to say.
A sad ‘okay’ was all that came as
Johan’s reply.
He didn’t want to press it, but in the
long silence that followed he couldn’t help but wonder what happened.
If he’d gotten sick or had an accident; if he was a lot older. He hoped
no one had hurt him.
“He was in the hospital a few
months before he died. He said he
didn’t like his medication because it
gave him stomach pains, so he never
took it. He died ten years ago.”
He sat, looking for the words in
Spanish. He looked for them in English, too, but they didn’t come. He
could see that Johan’s profound injury hadn’t healed, even inflicted ten
years ago, even to someone who was
barely twenty-five at the time.
“He cheated on me with other men,
but I knew.”
His heart sank as he realized the
type of medication Johan was talking about.
“His medicine was for—“
“Yes,” Johan said.
His heart broke as he realized what
it meant for Johan. They sat silently
on the old wooden stools surrounded by crates of empty beer bottles
and buckets full of empty liquor
bottles. Johan’s eyes focused on him
and then the floor, then settled
somewhere on the other side of the
road. He noticed they didn’t brim
with tears but Johan’s ache was still
palpable across the dense air. Johan
looked down again. His throat became tight and he could feel the
pressure of tears in the corner of his
eyes, but his eyes never left Johan.
“Well,” he started, and then
stopped when his voice cracked. He
paused before he whispered.
“Johan?”
Johan looked up and raised his eyebrows.
“Do you take yours?” he asked, hesitantly.
“What?”
“Do you take your medication?”
Johan tilted his head to the side and
wrinkled his nose softly as he
squinted. He wasn’t sure if it was
because he was ashamed to say no
or because he didn’t understand
what he’d said. Then his eyebrows
came up and his eyes softened.
“No, I don’t take any medicine.”
Just then, a woman Johan’s age
came around the store corner. He
[email protected]
19
smiled at her and she responded inkind. Then her face brightened and
she recognized him, and he remembered her name: Yelenis. They
hugged and greeted each other, and
then she turned to Johan.
“Grab me some sugar, Johan,” she
said. “I have to get something from
the house.”
He and Johan watched Yelenis jog
away. Johan related to him that she
lived with a few kids and her husband in a house they built right over
there around the time Gerardo died.
He smiled.
“Look!” she shouted on her way
back. “Look, you see?”
She handed him an old photo of a
large group. She pointed to a younger her, and then he recognized himself at twenty-six.
“We had so much fun up there, remember this trip? I still talk to
Yunitza. And remember Manuelito?
We called him ‘gordito,’ poor guy.”
She smiled and paused for a moment, then looked up at him.
“I’m making pescado y arroz so come
by later, you hear? You, too, Johan.”
They both nodded their heads and
smiled at her as she took the sugar
and left. They remained quiet and
watched her walk back home. He
looked back down at the photo and
tried to remember the names of the
other kids all wearing matching tshirts. He saw a gangly, fifteen yearold Johan in the back. He looked up
at Johan, remembering both Yelenis
and he went to the camp.
“I don’t take medication because I
don’t need to,” Johan said. “I knew
what to do.”
*
20
La Vaina
The Comfort of
a Chiva
Thanksgiving
Catherine Cousar
G70 TE, Panama Oeste
Karolina Maslanka
G72 CEC, Coclé
My mother hugged me
In the Austin Bergstrom Airport
Before I left for the Peace Corps
And whispered in my ear
“It never gets any easier,
No matter how many times we say
goodbye,
It never gets any easier”
Back seat, eyes closed.
The wind blowing my hair in every
direction.
Can't wait to attempt to untangle
this mess.
Click, tss, click, tss, beer cans opened
by the men accompanying me in the
back.
Soft latino pop music plays in the
background.
Strange, I can actually hear myself
think.
For once my eardrums don't feel
violated by unnecessarily loud volume.
As the chiva swerves from side to
side down the curvy road, my body
follows in sync, muscles relaxed.
My right arm sticks and unsticks
from the muchacha sitting on my
right.
My left leg feels the pressure of the
right leg of the borracho sitting on my
left with his legs as spread out as
can be. Typical.
Glad you’re comfortable, Señor!
As I sway from side to side, these
people become my support, my balance. I slowly begin to doze off.
I realize that I am smiling. I am content, comfortable.
Something about the stuffy air that
feels good, feels right.
These people, with all their little
quirks, are my family.
A large family at 4,000, but nonetheless, family.
As I ride with my eyes closed, I realize there is no place else I’d rather
be.
Take me home, chiva.
To my yellow house, to my next
door neighbors, to the hungry stray
dogs, to the frogs that chirp and the
rain that never stops.
Take me home, chiva.
I’ve left her a thousand times and
more
And like a giddy thoughtless creature
I never understood until that moment
How much my going cost her
Poets wax eloquent
About the sweet pain of homesickness
But has anyone ever spared a verse
For those who are left at home?
So let us raise a glass and not forget
Those who love us travelers
The family, friends and lovers
Who fixed our packs
And pushed us forth
Giving us the courage
To embark upon
This great adventure
January 2014
Funeral
Kelly Moore Brands
It’s a little after 5 a.m. on a Saturday,
and Pete wakes me up as he gets out of
bed. He dresses quickly and tells me
he’s going to go over to Rosa’s. We both
know that they will be up. The entire
family has been awake since our host
sister passed away after midnight on
Thursday for reasons unknown. She was
my age.
I sleep for a few more minutes, knowing
that it’s going to be a long day. Around
6:00, I begin to prepare myself mentally
and shake the dreams from my head.
There’s no time to eat, so I throw on my
nagwa and rubber boots and step out
onto the porch. I walk quickly on the
muddy path, cross the creek balancing
on rocks, take a deep breath, and try to
calm myself by looking up at the trees
and mottled greenery above. I pray that I
don’t burst into tears the moment I get to
their house. Pete has already returned,
having sat with the mother and father for
almost an hour in their dark wooden
house, holding their hands and trying to
bring some comfort. He has other obligations this morning and can’t stay. So I
represent.
I hear the wailing before I see the house.
As I get closer, I see people under a
makeshift roof, starting to prepare food
for the afternoon. It seems as though
they have also been up all night, mourning, preparing and drinking cacao. This
is tradition when a Ngäbe dies. Each day
for four or more days after the sun goes
down, they begin to toast dried cacao
over a fire. Once toasted and cooled,
they grind it, form it into balls of bitter
chocolate, and boil it in a large pot of
water. It is then shared communally,
with everyone pouring a cup for someone else.
Essay Contest
Winner
It’s mostly women bustling about at this
early hour, some washing clothes, some
cleaning, some cooking. I am offered
sugary, watered-down coffee. I accept
and drink with thanks. I think about going into the wailing room, into the darkness. I think and I think and I make
moves to go there but I just can’t bring
myself to do it. It is too real. I fear how I
might feel in there, too comfortable here
in the warm light of the sun. Soon
enough, the wailing stops and I’m relieved that it means I don’t have to go in
yet. Rosa, my host mother, comes out
wiping the tears from her weathered but
beautiful face. Even in mourning, she is
radiant. Even with only a few teeth left,
she is elegant. She sits down next to me
and we cry softly together.
A woman wrinkled and aged by smoke
from cooking fires and working under
the sun, hands me a half-eaten hardboiled egg. We are sharing three eggs
between seven women. I take a small
bite and offer it in turn to Rosa. She
takes and eats it without a word. Her
voice has almost gone, torn and shredded from endless wailing for the loss of
her youngest daughter. In a few minutes,
she is back in the room, back to mourning, back to remembering that her
daughter is gone, leaving her 14 year-old
granddaughter without a mother.
The casket sits in the room with a candle
burning at its head, the only light in the
room. People begin to filter in. Mostly
they are adults, but some children enter
as well. Some stay for hours, crying,
sitting quietly, remembering the dead.
Throughout the day the wailing comes
and goes in waves, giving me a chance
to almost forget why I’m here when the
wave dissipates. But in moments it is
back, and pulls me from my temporary
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21
amnesia. Rafael, the father, comes out of
the wooden room with an old shirt covering his head. He is crying loudly, telling
God and us about his loss, his helplessness. Seeing this, his pain, I cry, more
than I ever have in front of these people
who I have lived with for over 15
months. Then, calm.
In the cool and cloudy afternoon, Porfirio
shows up at the door to the wooden
room. The wailing begins again in earnest, louder than ever, his presence signaling that the grave is ready. Rubén,
covered in red dirt from head to toe,
helps Porfirio tie a log onto the casket.
Women trail out of the room, heads covered, and walk up to the cemetery. I follow them. Pete is with me now, but he
stays behind with the men.
The cemetery is a sea of people, faces
looking towards the wailers, producing a
ripple of silent tears. The men walk slowly up the hill; now carrying the casket,
now placing it on the exhumed dirt. For a
moment, there is a bit of chaos as the
men try to figure out how to lower the
casket. As it begins its uneasy descent, I
can see that the bottom wants to drop
out. The box reaches the bottom without
fail, and Rubén and another man push it
into the side hole that they have dug. It
doesn’t quite fit all the way in; they build
a wall of branches and leaves to cover it.
Men begin to shovel dirt back into the
hole. It falls on Rubén, into his boots,
onto his face, and he takes it all in stride,
packing down the dirt. It accumulates
and lifts him out of the hole.
The wailing continues. I am moved to
see this rare and generous expression by
such stoic people. I wipe away salty
tears. Porfirio takes a bag of Marita’s
clothes and begins to slice them all in
half with a sharp machete. From her
nagwas to her underwear and slips to her
rubber boots to her chakara, it is all destroyed by the knife and thrown in with
the dirt. Crude wooden crosses are
placed at both ends of the grave, and
ornamental plants are haphazardly stuck
into the ground around them. People
begin to filter out, but we stay with the
last of the mourners. Tonight, we drink
cacao.
22
La Vaina
My House Missed Me While I Was Away
Joan Campau G72 CEC, Herrera Essay Contest Winner
It’s very flattering to think that a
house can miss you. I just returned
from 2 weeks at IST, and it appears
that every single termite-ridden
wooden board was mourning my
absence. Bobby the dog is flaquito
even though I happen to know that
he bummed dinner every night at
the neighbors’ house. My yard,
which was red clay when I left, is
now a moist leafy jungle. Ironically,
I, the environmentalist who has been
singing grass blades to sleep for the
past month in the hopes that it
would encourage them to grow up
big and strong, am now compelled
to hack everything down to reduce
my flip-flop-snake-encounter probability. Take a minute to indulge in
the comical image of a totally uncoordinated girl from a small town in
Michigan with a machete which has
seen sharper days crouched in the
rain and blade by blade ‘mowing’
the lawn. This is how it’s done here;
I just have to work on my swing efficiency. Thankfully, my postage
stamp yard matches my postage
stamp house.
I also arrived home to some new
roommates. First night back I was
exhausted and barely sorted my
moderately moldy clothes from my
unbearably moldy clothes before
crashing into bed. I woke up 2 hours
later to relieve myself - my bladder
naturally having waited until the
rain really got going to develop a
latrine urgency - and found a new
little friend in my shoes. For his species, this hairy spider was actually
enormous, and it took me a good 30
seconds to remember that I was,
still, in fact, bigger than he was. We
played a rousing game of hide-andseek until I cornered the little bugger
and mercilessly thwacked him with
my sandal. Returning damp but triumphant from the latrine moments
later, I found that his sister had
come out to avenge his death, and
we again played Catch Me If You
Can. I won, luckily, and had just
settled into the covers when what do
I hear but the unmistakable whirring
rush of bat wings. This creep had
entered through the gaping holes
between my roof and walls, and was
setting up shop above my bed. That
D. Lee
explained the mysterious stains on
my sheets. Getting up my courage I
flailed my arms randomly (and silently, so as not to wake the neighbors) and he finally fluttered out. I
then went around and stuffed all of
my dirty clothes in the holes around
the roof, hoping that if the physical
barrier didn’t keep him out he
would be deterred by the smell. This
did not actually work, because as of
Night #2 at home, he still thinks we
have a bunk bed situation. Worse: I
still don’t know how he’s getting in.
In the morning, I groggily reached
for the coffee pot (eyes half shut trying to recuperate after a sleepless
night) and was jolted awake by the
clang of the metal pot on the cement
floor as I dropped it in surprise
when an enormous grasshopper
poked his thumb-size head out.
Counting my lucky stars that it wasn’t anything more dangerous, I
made it all the way through my oatmeal before realizing that an alacrán
had been watching me eat the whole
time. This guy I attacked with a
kitchen knife, and thanks to the
practice of the night before I
neatly beheaded him… unfortunately right over the open
rice bag. Looks like Bobby will
be eating rice for a while. All
of this just serves as a good
reminder that nature abhors a
vacuum: a house left empty
for 2 weeks will find new tenants. Not coincidentally, tonight will be the maiden voyage for my mosquito net,
which I hope is strong enough
to keep these enormous creatures out. Either that or they
start contributing to the rent.
January 2014
Life: A Beautiful, Tragic Journey
Brittany Hinds G72 CEC, Colón
“The art of living lies in a fine mingling
of letting go and holding on” – Havelock
Ellis
Within a span of a week I watched the
miracle of life being brought into the
world and the tragedy of it being taken
away. It was a late Monday afternoon
and I had just returned from teaching my
3rd and 4th grade classes across the river. I was tired, hungry, and ready to relax for a minute. However, when I arrived at my
house any thought of rest
or supplement quickly
fled from my mind. My
neighbor, who was currently sitting in my living
room, had gone into labor.
My host mom turned to
me and asked if I could
take her to the hospital in
Colón.
Yes. What else could I
have said? She told me
she would join us later.
Great. I could handle this
on my own, I told myself.
My neighbor, Yineda,
went back to her house to
B. Hinds
gather her overnight bag
while I gathered my book
and camera. My host mom promised that
we would be back later that night because in Panamanian hospitals no one is
allowed in the room with the mother.
She had to give birth alone. How sad
was my initial reaction.
On top of all of that, after the doctors
had seen Yineda, they told her that she
was not dilated enough to enter a hospital room to have her baby. The hospital
was too full. She would have to wait in
the lobby, so wait we did. Until 4 a.m. in
one of the most dangerous cities in Panama. I could only laugh at the situation
as a fever settled over me and I was
forced to see the doctor myself. It was
one of the longest nights of my life.
Essay Contest Winner
However, at 8 a.m. a young, beautiful,
healthy baby boy entered the world and
all the stress and pain seemed to fade
away…
And the world was beautiful, until the
following rainy Saturday. Not more
than 200 feet from my house is a soccer
field that all the boys frequent and on
occasion some of the local girls. However, on this particular Saturday, the
23
been the tallest in the open field and
thus the target of the lightning strike.
Smoke bellowed from his mouth and
blood pooled from his ears. I do not
believe I will ever be able to strike the
image of his burned clothes from my
mind.
However, what I choose to remember is
his funny laugh, the way he would yell
my name across the field, and walk me
home at night. He was an amazing
young boy who loved life and filled
people with joy. He was always the first
to volunteer help and never complained. He helped teach me to use my
machete and helped me plant yuca. He
made me laugh daily.
While I might have disliked how Panamanian
hospitals dealt with birth,
I was blown away by the
honor dedicated to this
young boy in his death.
For 9 days, my community came together in
mourning. Every night at
9 p.m., 12 a.m., 3 a.m.,
and 6 a.m. we would
have a passage reading
from the Bible, sing worship songs, and pray for
the families, for healing,
for repentance, for guidance.
soccer field was inhabited by eight teen
and pre-teen boys. The rain had just
begun coming down in buckets when
lightning touched ground. All eight
boys fell down from the impact, but
only six got back up. One of the older
boys raced over to one of the two boys
who did not rise and carried him to his
mother, who quickly began to resuscitate him. He would later be taken to the
same hospital in Colón where I had
spent the night and would come away
unscathed except for an interesting scar
on his foot.
The other boy, José, would not be so
lucky. That day, his life was claimed.
Despite all the paramedics did, he had
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I am reminded how little
control we have over the
time we have here on
Earth. It can be taken in a second. We
have only to make the most of the time
we have. I cannot worry about tomorrow, but only live today. This is a day
in the life as a Peace Corps Volunteer.
For two years, we give of ourselves
completely. With every dawn we lay
our preconceived notions at the door
and dive in. There is beauty and there is
pain. I am constantly astounded by my
fellow Peace Corps Volunteers, my
colleagues, my teachers, my counterparts, my community members, my
friends. They give me more than I
could ever give in return. Jose, you will
stay with me forever, but in your death
I am reminded in how I should live.
24
La Vaina
Appreciating Manual Labor
Lila Holzman G71 SAS, Panama Oeste
L. Holzman
I do not have a background in
manual labor. I was not raised in
a world where it was necessary
and I certainly never pursued it
during my years of academic
study. But here I have discovered
deep value in seemingly simple
tasks.
Physically, manual labor is draining. At the end of a day spent
shoveling dirt or machete-ing a
field, I collapse in my hammock
with barely enough energy to get
up and cook dinner. I try to listen
to the news on the radio but my
mind zones out, too tired to concentrate. I try to read and stay up
until a respectable hour but I’ve
of my bigger-picture work here.
The guys sometimes laugh when
I show up to help chopear a field
with my shorter-than-average
machete (I call it my machechito)
and laugh more when I get on
my knees to avoid hunching over
so much due to my tallness as I
work. But I laugh too and keep at
it. As we work, we talk and joke
and bond. Sometimes, I stay quiet listening to the local gossip:
fallen asleep as
early
as
7:00pm. Physical exhaustion,
however, is a
very satisfying
form of being
tired.
While
working, enDid you hear Ceferino doesn’t
dorphins kick
want to work as president of the
in and I feel
water committee anymore?
good
about
what I’m doOr that Petra’s mom is sick, but
ing. I push mythankfully the medical tour is
self and have
coming this Thursday?
seen personal
progress as I
Oh and Melquiades never comes
clearly grow
through on his PTA obligations,
s t r o n g so someone needs to talk to him.
er. Mentally, the visible results of
a solid day’s work are both gratiSometimes I jump in and share
fying and humbling. Later as I
my experience and opinion on
struggle to keep my eyes open, I
whatever the topic. I’ve had to be
smile thinking about whatever
careful to not sound too radical
my hard work and sweat helped
but stay true to my values when
accomplish that day. I also wontopics arise like birth control, hoder at how the skills with which
mosexuality, religion, alcohol,
community members use simple
etc.
tools and resources never cease
to impress me. I continually try
to learn from them to im“Physically, manual labor is
prove my own beginner’s
draining. At the end of a day
techniques.
Socially, manual labor is
unimaginably important
for community integration
and for the effectiveness
spent shoveling dirt or machete-ing a field, I collapse in
my hammock with barely
enough energy to get up and
cook dinner. “
January 2014
People are always surprised that
I only have one sister.
“It’s more common in the U.S. to
have smaller families.”
“But how do they stop having
babies? Do all the women get opL. Holzman
25
“Yep. Tranquila.”
Aside from staying in the community loop and exchanging cultural differences, the benefits of
manual labor continue. People
here know that I care about the
community and all
its aspects, because I
literally show that I
do. No matter what
the specific cause, if
there is a community
L. Holzman
erations?”
“Some. Or the men can have
minor procedures too. But
other forms of birth control
are more common. People
use condoms and many
women take pills.”
“Oh, yeah. I think I’ve heard of
that.”
One grandmother recently confessed with embarrassment that a
grandchild as old as six hadn’t
been baptized yet.
“Oh, well, I’ve actually never
been baptized.”
“You haven’t?! They don’t do
that in your country?”
“Some people in my country do,
sure, but not everyone. My family doesn’t.”
“And you live like normal that
way? Tranquila?”
When it comes to the SAS work
that I am here to do, separating
manual labor out would be impossible. Yes, the fish tanks, vegetable garden beds and compost
piles need to be owned in every
sense of the word by community
members. But what kind of message would it send if I gave talks
on the benefits of these projects
but was unwilling to work on
them too? No way. I show them
that if I can do it, they can do
it, and if they want my help
getting these started, I am
more than happy to get my
hands dirty with tasks as
glamorous as shoveling
horse poop for compost. We
L. Holzman
work day, and I can
go, I go. I spend days
cleaning gutters, constructing classrooms,
cooking tamales, and
mixing
concrete. There is no
question that I care about the
progress of El Harino, and that
I’m here to help. The best feeling
is when I’ve heard community
members explaining to outside
visitors: “Oh that’s our Peace
Corps Volunteer. She helps with
everything.”
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work side by side under the hot
sun (or pouring rain), we talk
about community matters and
the world outside, and we see
the physical fruits of our labor.
At the end of the day, I collapse
in my hammock, exhausted and
happy and ready to do it again
tomorrow.
26
La Vaina
wives and mothers you can also
catch me taking my five o'clock walk
through my cheese platter layout of
a town. Like any good platter of
Abraham Mitnik G70 TE, Chiriquí cheese all my streets in town are vertical so you don't have to worry
Hi, and welcome. Here I am on a
about getting lost or mixed up in
Tuesday evening sitting in my P-Pod
strange cheese combinations. So I
or PanaPod as I like to call it. Othercan go vertical right and walk
wise known as the Peace Corps
through a church, a dirt road with
housing unit I like to call home. Havbamboo and mud built houses still
ing briefly been interrupted to mash
occupied by Ngäbes who have no
a large flying bug with my shoe, I am
electricity. Or I can go vertical left
forced to get up again and strike this
and walk down a paved road with
mighty creature as apparently my
Latino style block housing and
first attempts failed. Perhaps I
homes filled with flat serene screen
should invest in more sound shoes to
TV's and bingo matches.
avoid this nonsense in the future.
I really do have the best of both
My name is Abraham or as people
worlds; just the right mixture of inhere like to call me Abran, teacher, or
digenous Ngäbe population to stare
Carne. The last literally meaning
at me silently with their beautiful
meat which right there can pretty
colored dresses, and not to be forgotmuch sum up my Peace Corps expeten by the ever so generous Latinos
rience. No, that would be somewhat
who are always offering me liquor or
of a lie, for I do view my experience
reminding me of the Watermelon
here in San Felix, Panama as more
War in 1856 involving some gringo
than just meat. Yes, I tend to add the
who didn't pay for his watermelon. I
whole layer of sandwich garnishing
don't even like watermelon (it’s just
and flavored toppings to my meat
water, and it does not taste like a
sandwich.
melon!). But whether it's the lottery
tickets, bingo games, loud típico muI like my site here in The Felix. Not
sic, or lustfully good chicken fried
full of too many crazy people, but
rice, I will never forget my good
just that right mix of insanity to
times in Panama. For me it doesn’t
make everything pleasant yet interbother me to lend my landlady $5
esting. I need that balance and luckionce a month, because she always
ly most days I can find that right in
pays it back in time for me to lend it
or outside of my P-Pod. I can always
to her again the following month. It
walk by my friendly kiosk store unit
was our little game of swapsies
and have the group of five, some(exchange or giving and taking of
what average, middle aged Panaobjects). Nobody got hurt and she
women make fun of me in a definite
always remembered to pay me back.
borderline creepy way. Which is a
Even though I thought the lottery or
good way to kill ten minutes before
bingo to be frivolous wasteful enterit gets too weird and I feel they are
prises it has and always will be a
somehow trying to marry me off to a
part of the culture here in Panama.
daughter and whisper
strange sandwich phrases.
It has been 1 year, 10 months, and 21
days since I arrived here in Panama.
Luckily, I always escape unscathed
I have survived numerous dangerand leaving no child behind as forously deemed bus rides, chicken atmer President G. W. Bush used to
tacks, strange insect invasions, socsay. When I am not avoiding friendly
cer match injuries, chicha overdoses,
Panaman
school children hug-fests, relatively
unscathed besides the physical and
emotional damage herein. But the
truth is I love Panama, not in a
creepy way, but I am so blessed for
all the awesome experiences, people,
places I have gotten to know. I am a
wiser man. No, maybe, wiser is too
strong. I am a Panaman. A man to
have lived to tell of the great things I
will always carry with me for the rest
of my life. Thank you, Panama. But
thank you to the people who let me
stay in their homes, eat their meals,
teach their children (heaven knows
what, if anything). To all those pavos
and chiva drivers who always made
sure to ask me if I wanted to go to
Bugaba or the frontera, even though I
clearly never did. To all those people
who waited in long lines with me and
still made jokes (God bless you).
I may be from one of the super power
first world countries but I will always
respect and appreciate what I have
learned here in my two years. I
learned to slow down, take a look
around me, and enjoy some of the
simpler things in life. For if there is
one thing a Panamanian is, they are
HAPPY! Happy with what they have,
even though it may not be much.
Happy to spend their paycheck right
when they get it. Happy to buy a lottery ticket. Happy to celebrate many
random holidays with friends. But
always happy. And this they have
shared with me. So today I am happy
to call myself a Panaman. Before you
head off on your next adventure ask
yourself…Are you happy?
A Mitnik
January 2014
It’s the Little
Things…
Sydney Morgan
G70 TE, Panama Oeste
When
I got to Panama I thought I
was going to change the world. I
thought that by the time I left, everyone in my site would be speaking
English. No, seriously. You’re probably thinking, “Aw that’s cute, Sydney. What a naïve baby child.” But
now I’ve wizened up. Two years of
hard labor in Panama will teach you
that it’s not that easy. You can’t
come in and just do huge things de
una vez. So I have to keep reciting
over and over again my favorite
quote. This is a quote of not just my
time in Panama but really for my
life. It is a Mother Teresa quote that
says, “We can do no great things,
only small things with great love.” It
is not only a motto but something
that will forever be etched on my
heart and Panama has definitely reinforced it. Anyone who knows me
well has probably heard me say this
once or more like one hundred million times. But when I think about
my Peace Corps experience that is
just the phrase that comes to mind.
Of course we do great things here:
big projects, seminars, and the like.
Yes, we build latrines and aqueducts, teach English classes, build
libraries, give various charlas about
things from teaching people to not
poop in rivers to teaching them how
to put on condoms. We plant gardens and protect turtles and iguanas,
we start recycling projects and paint
world maps, but are those really the
things for which our communities
will remember us? My guess is no.
My guess is they will remember us
for the small things we did with
great love. They will remember us
for the time we wore a pollera and
lead the 3rd of November parade.
They will remember the time we
made a fool of ourselves dancing at
bailes or trying to speak ngäbere. That
one time we tripped and fell during
our first three months in site that
they still laugh about. They will remember us for our smiles, our
laughs, the way we can’t manage to
roll our rrs or the Halloween party
we threw for the kids. They will remember us for the small things.
And we probably won’t remember
them for the great things they did.
We will remember them for the
small things they did like giving us
heaping plates of arroz con pollo
made with great love. For the stories
they told us about the past and the
bananas they regalar-ed us. The one
time they came and helped us with
the latrine building project or that
time they came to the health charla
and actually participated. The time
my counterpart told me, “the world
needs more people like you.” The
time they threw us a birthday party
or walked with us to pasear. We will
remember them for the small things.
And the memories of Panama I will
take with me probably won’t be the
great things either. It will be the
small things. All the times the kids
came to my house to play Uno or
read my books, the hours sitting
with my neighbors hearing about
how it’s going to rain or it’s really
hot, the times spent in the river with
[email protected]
27
everyone, when Chelsea and I made
fruit dryers at my house, the times at
Santa Clara, Las Lajas or Bocas
beaches with other Peace Corps Volunteers, all the times I saw grandmas
with shirts in English with things
like, “Don’t you wish your girlfriend
was hot like me”, the one time I
made chili and corn bread at my
house and took like fifteen pictures
of the meal because I was so proud,
the day Austin, Kim and I built my
shower. We will remember Panama
for the small things.
The Peace Corps is full of great memories and friends, but in the end,
honestly it’s all the little things that
add up to make the experience great:
the small gifts from friends and
neighbors, the small successes in
projects, the hugs from students. I
will never forget my experience here
and the small things that I did and
received with great love.
For those PCVs that still have most
of their service left, my advice to you
is to not make such a big deal about
the great things, but instead focus on
the small things. Remember the love
you received from the people around
you: other Volunteers, neighbors,
students, the random pavo on the bus
who doesn’t make you pay full price.
(Insert inspirational music here.)
Peace Corps can be frustrating and
lonely sometimes, but when we celebrate the little things, I guarantee
you your service will be happier and
you will feel more loved and blessed.
I couldn’t ask for better memories
from Panama and I will definitely
miss this place. Although my suitcase will be pretty empty because
I’m going to be leaving most of my
dirty, smelly, hole-y, moldy clothes
here, it will be forever full of the
memories and things that can’t be
seen but that I will carry with me
wherever I go. So thanks Mama Teri
for your wise words. And now my
challenge to each and every one of
you (and me as I go back to the good
ole U.S.A.) is to go out and do small
things with great love. I dare you.
28
La Vaina
History Now!
Muscovy Ducks
Jordan Varble
G73 EH, Bocas Del Toro
Within a month of moving in with
our host family, I was convinced
that the Peace Corps had placed me
in a zoo. Of course there are the usual chickens, ducks, horses, cows,
occasional turkey and rambunctious
child bouncing through town. But
one morning, I was resting in the
hammock when I heard my wife’s
voice straining to call my name
above the general chaos around me;
something about an animal being in
the shower with her, a dog, maybe?
When I walked over to investigate, I
found a DUCK cowering in the corner, in the shadow of my soapy
wife! She was splashing water and
flapping away to gesture the duck
out of the curtain of a door, without
opening the curtain to expose all. In
the moment, I wasn’t sure who was
acting more duck-like, and I was
trying my best to contain gutbusting laughter. NOT the appropriate time for a husband to laugh. It
turns out that our little host brothers
were trying to catch the duck (for
goodness-knows-why) and it waddled into the shower in an attempt
to escape. It was a good thing they
didn’t run in following!
Little did we realize in that moment,
that little duck has a long history
here in the comarca because the Muscovy duck was first domesticated in
the Americas prior to the first European contact. After reading about
the breed in How to Raise Poultry by
Christine Heinrichs, I learned that
their characteristics are as unique as
the Native American
cultures that bred them. Muscovy
ducks are personal and self-reliant
and even though they are capable of
flying they will choose to remain
close to the house if well cared-for.
Muscovies are most-easily identified
by the caruncles (red bumps) around
their bills, with males typically having more than females. Other interesting tidbits include excellence in
natural egg laying, strong motherly
instincts, and willingness to incubate
and raise other poultry eggs. They
are raised primarily for meat because they quickly grow to full-size
and are limited in the number of
eggs they can produce to 100 per
year. Although the hens will lay far
fewer if a balanced diet is not available.
A few duck tidbits if you’re interested in raising these quiet creatures for
yourself (courtesy of How to Raise
Poultry):
-All ducks need water! Not only
is bath time fun, ducks need
water deep enough to completely submerge their heads
to keep their nostrils clear.
-When cooking, one duck egg
can be used as a substitute
for one chicken egg.
-Duck egg whites contain more
protein than eggs from
chickens and the yolks have
more fat.
-If raising ducks for eggs, remember to collect them daily so that the hen continues
laying.
-Ducklings have a higher chance
of survival if fed chicken
starter feed from your local
Melo store.
-Ducklings also love oats,
cracked corn, hardboiled
eggs, earthworms and insects.
-Hens need extra calcium during egg-laying time.
-Chocolate and avocado are
toxic to birds (but fortunately not to humans :) ).
-Cooked Peach Palm (Pifá) is a
great dietary addition,
providing many vitamins
and minerals.
An Open Letter to
All Volunteers
Nick Bringardner
G70 TE, Veraguas
Dear Everyone,
Service in the Peace Corps involves enduring hardships; it's
one of the core expectations. It's
important, though, to keep in
mind that hardship comes in
many forms. For some, our main
hardship is lifestyle, adjusting to
different, usually lower, standards of living. For others our
main hardship is work, difficulty
collaborating with counterparts.
Often it's a combination of the
two.
However, no one outright chooses his or her own site. We are
placed in our site and are expected to work. We put forth our
best effort based on where the
office has placed us. For some
reason among Volunteers, placement in a more developed site is
grounds for light ridicule. Volunteers somewhere in the world
coined the term Posh Corps, as if
to suggest that a particular place
could be something other than a
'real' Peace Corps site. This
January 2014
mindset is simply displaced anger at the reality of our own life
onto the reality of another, at
those who live in what some
might consider an "easier" site.
The last La Vaina had a feature
with this quote: "I took hot
showers in site...I COS'ed on July
26th, but the guilt still persists."
Why should taking hot showers
by boiling our water be a luxury
in which we're not allowed to
partake? If a Volunteer wants to
warm up water for himself, no
one should tell him he can or
should not. Why is having electricity and Internet access worthy of scorn? We all live differently based on our sites, and
even within that range of sites
each Volunteer can choose to live
his or her own way. Sometimes
we wash our clothes in the river
or by hand, other times in a
neighbor's washing machine or
our own, and yet other times we
treat ourselves to full service
laundry at the nearest provincial
capital. We all know better than
to draw attention to ourselves by
living extravagantly, but a hot
shower or some peanut butter
does not constitute extravagance.
The real problem is not that this
mentality of martyrdom exists,
but rather that we all preserve it.
By making jokes, we become
complicit in perpetuating that
fallacy. It is preposterous and
downright unhealthy to place
suffering on a pedestal, to suggest that living isolated and never leaving the most remote site
with limited access, having no
cell phone or internet service,
eating little to no food, having
little to no amenities, and engag-
ing in absolutely no indulgences
is somehow a more "real" Peace
Corps experience than any other.
We are all real Peace Corps Volunteers. We all earn our humble
living stipend. By American
standards we are paupers, but
by local standards, we are much
closer to kings. We can choose to
do with our money and our resources what we will. There is
no reason to feel guilty about
that. Volunteers give their time
and their treasures. We struggle
“To suggest that one
Volunteer is more
legitimate than another
only serves to perpetuate
a stereotype that our
lives in country are
pitiable. It paints a
picture of abject poverty
and misery.”
no matter where we live, how
we live, or where and how we
work on a daily basis. EH, SAS,
CEC, and TE (note the implied
ranking of sector from most difficult to least difficult site placement), we all face challenges.
To suggest that one Volunteer is
more legitimate than another
only serves to perpetuate a stereotype that our lives in country
are pitiable. It paints a picture of
abject poverty and misery. It
suggests that in order to truly
experience Peace Corps we have
to starve ourselves on a strictly
rice and plantain diet, isolate
ourselves by never leaving site
[email protected]
29
and not shower for days at a
time. When in Rome, right?
Wrong. The reason some of our
community members live a certain way is because it is all they
know, often all they can afford.
Instead of humbling us, forcing
that lifestyle only gives us a
twisted reason to brag. Furthermore, this mindset distances us
from our host country nationals.
It erroneously assumes that all
people who live a certain way fit
into a certain category: sad, poor
people. Yet, we all know better
than to think people in our sites
are depressed. What can happen
is this: we return after our service and tell tales of our lifestyle,
of how we lived two years like a
poor campesino. Instead, we
should be telling tales of that
poor campesino's work ethic,
bravery or kindness. We potentially marginalize the same people we are supposed to serve.
Our service is meant to help
build a bridge between nations
and remind us that we are all
one people.
A lauded rendering of a difficult
life does not change it in any
way. Drawing comparisons to
those who live differently, construed as better, and scolding
them for doing so is only an underhanded way of complaining
about one’s own situation. We
can only grow as Volunteers
when we stop complaining. Service in Peace Corps is not, nor
has it ever been, a pissing contest
over whose life is hardest. Remember that it's not the amount
of hardship that matters, but
how we choose to react to that
hardship that defines our service.
30
La Vaina
Every Waking Moment,
Citizen Cope
Annie Hines G70 CEC, Los Santos
I sit on the wooden slat laid on
top of two blocks of wood of different sizes. It shifts without
shifting my weight. The girl beside me lays on the ground,
backpack under her head, eyes
shut, waiting. Time ticks by, the
sun beats down. It’s hot, a midday in winter.
stop is covered; the rain is threatening to start. We talk about sites,
about the night before, trading
stories, trading advice. We play
games, we joke, and we speak
with the young girls who gather
to stare at the two white girls
who entered their town. We have
missed our bus by almost an
hour.
Finally, our bus arrives. I quickly
flag it down, holding my arm out
and letting my hand hang. He
stops, pulling into the driveway
in which we sit. The door slides
open, jarring, and we crawl inside. Our bags sit on the seats
next to us. My companion leans
her head against the window.
“God, I’m tired.”
We start walking. I check my
phone, she checks hers. We have
no reception. Thunder rolls in the
background. We keep walking. I
turn to her. “Feel like a real Peace
Corps Volunteer?” We laugh.
Cars roll by. One stops, rolling
down the window. I look in, see a
friend. He tells us to hop in.
I laugh, nod. My head and eyes
are heavy. I slept in my contacts
the night before and they feel
sandy. We had spent the night on
the beach, passing the time with
other Volunteers, speaking English. The night was fun, long and
late. We danced, we joked. We
had a good time. The next morning, we wore sunglasses, drank
coffee and soaked up the healing
qualities of sun and salt water.
Waiting for our buses, possibly
the healing qualities were not
what we thought they were.
The bus stops the town over
from mine. We need to catch the
next bus out, passing to my dock
and through on to her town. The
“Now I feel like
a real Peace
Corps
Volunteer.” We laugh
again.
Peace
Corps has many
stereotypes associated with it,
from living in a
mud house, living in Africa or
Asia or South
America, to being the only
American in a
group of natives. To having
your hair and
skin
touched.
To hearing the
ghost stories about witches and
devils. To working on a project
that becomes a monument in a
small town in the middle of nowhere. But what does it actually
mean to be Peace Corps?
Is it having conversations with
community members about environmental conservation, learning
new languages or new livelihood
securities? Is it playing softball
with kids and talking about trees
and plants with others? Is it
standing in front of a classroom,
teaching English, science or
math? Is it sitting on someone’s
front porch throwing the story or
teaching a two year old how to
say “shit” in a language he
doesn’t speak? Each country has
its own definition of Peace Corps.
Each person has her own. To
some, it’s the opportunity to meet
new people, to others it’s the opportunity to work in a community in any capacity. For others yet,
it’s a chance to see a new part of
the world. What does Peace
A.Hines
January 2014
Corps mean?
Peace Corps would define itself
as three things: sharing the culture of the United States with
your host country, sharing host
country culture with the United
States and providing sustainable
education and development. But
each of these things means so
much more than just the words.
Sustainable education and development doesn’t necessarily mean
leaving a monument, a building,
anything physical in your wake.
It’s about the people. The community members that remember
the Volunteer’s name, and the
one before her, and before her.
They remember us.
Sharing our culture with them
means we change the stereotypes. Now, when a gringa goes
to certain places around the
world, she’s not seen as a silly
American. She’s a reminder of
the gringa who came in and lived
with them for two years and
taught them something. She’s a
reminder that they taught their
Volunteer about them. That they
changed her life.
What Peace Corps means depends on the person, but the moments that we lose our breath
and we remember we are here,
we are doing this, they are Peace
Corps moments. The moments,
where no matter how hard it
may be, all difficulties are forgotten. The moments that you are so
thankful for this opportunity, for
these moments. These are the
moments that make everything
else absolutely worth it. These
are the moments that make Peace
Corps.
31
Saying
Goodbye Stinks
J. Cho
Lilli Schoer
G72 CEC, Panama Oesté
I have never been very good at goodbyes. And while I wanted to slip a
note into your carry-on that you
would find in the airport and read
then reread again on the flight I
could never seem to make the words
fit. It’s hard to be poetic about something you don’t want to say. I knew
our days were numbered when we
met, but the way you smiled and
made me laugh reminded me of
home. I loved the way you made me
laugh at you and especially at myself. I knew the day would come
when we would have to say “that
word” but I couldn’t let it escape my
mouth for fear that it would be the
last thing we said to one another. So
instead I gave you a high five and
kissed you before you got in the cab
headed back home. I don’t wish I
had said goodbye, but I do wish I
had told you that every day I spent
with you here felt like paradise. That
while other members of my group
felt homesick or lonely I never felt
that because I had you. I feel that
way now. I feel homesick. Like the
best part of my service just waved
from a taxi as it drove away. I wish I
had told you that I am really going
to miss you. I am going to miss kicking your ass at Scrabble, drinking
way too much gin and Zuko on my
front porch and making you paint,
build and fix everything in my
house. I wish I had told you that
even when I was annoyed with you
in my one room hut of a house I was
never upset, I was never sad, I was
never unhappy, because you were
there. I wish you were here now because for the first few months of this
Panama adventure you were my favorite part. I just wish I had told you
that.
[email protected]
One Stop Shopping for
International
Cuisine!
John Cho
G66, RPCV
Do you want to make international food but can't find it in
your tienda or at the Super 99?
Foodie and Fruteria are two
stores that have things like Sriracha, Tapatio, Indian/Thai curry,
Sesame Oil, spicy Mexican candy
and more! My personal favorite
is Fruteria. It is across the street
from MultiCentro, off of Avenida Balboa in Panama City.
32
Strange Bedfellows
Justin Maynard
G73EH, Darién
The other morning I awoke with
a fright around 6 a.m. Something
was in my mosquito net, fluttering about. See, the mosquito net
is supposed to be your friend,
your guardian angel against bugs
of all sorts. However, that morning there was something much
larger than any mosquito in my
little mesh sanctuary.
I lay there, frozen with fear under my sheet, wondering what to
do about this bat that had somehow gotten in bed with me, wondering how long it had been in
there, flapping from one end of
the net to the other, and wondering, frantically wondering, how I
was going to get out. I had been
lying there far too long. Soon the
hell spawn would realize I was
alert and plotting an escape,
ready to counter attack with a
swift bite to my jugular. "No time
to waste!" I told myself. I crawled
under my sheet for protection,
with fervent determination that I
may elude that hideous creature's
gaze, gunning toward the foot of
my mattress pad. I made it to the
La Vaina
edge. "Now's my chance!" I
thought to myself, as if rallying a
battle cry the likes of which
would make the Braveheart William Wallace shit his kilt.
Liken to my new little nephew, I
burst through the placenta that
was my insect free prison, brandishing the satisfaction of a job
well done, and solace well deserved. Suddenly I had it! Sweet,
sweet freedom! And there the
beast remained, trapped in what
had ensnared me just moments
before. Then to my surprise
I realized what it had been that
sent me cowering in fear, cowering in the security of my own bed
no less. You see it was merely a
little bird that had lost its way,
and surely as terrified as I was
during the whole ordeal. Gently,
I held up a corner of my mosquito net, whereby the troubled little
soul took flight to be rejoined
with its kind, never to return
again. I may never know exactly
how the little guy came to be my
strange bedfellow, or what possessed him to do so. For the time
being, I'll just thank my lucky
stars it wasn't a creature of the
night, and for that I may sleep
more soundly in the Darién.
SAN JOSE, COSTA RICA
There he was, only two rows
ahead of me. Blonde, tall and tan.
How many days had he hiked to
get to San José and how long had
he held up there? By this point I
didn´t even care. I had finally
found Nathan Stormzand. He
had obviously made his way
through the Comarca NgäbeBuglé (pronounced Nah-gay-bee
Bew-gl) and hitch hiked his way
to the border. But why come back
now? What was bringing him
back to Panama? Questions lead
only to more questions. Why
would he not respond to his
name? Who was he hiding from?
I called the office and was politely told they do not share whereabouts info with random Volunteers. Dead end. This is how this
story must end. Stormzand bajared that bus so quickly I had no
chance to catch him. We esperar
the next sighting.
January 2014
33
Holográfico en todos los paquetes*
HP 400
HP 400
HP 400
Laundry Thwack
Me Gon’ Chop
Jagua Jam
20
20
20
Speak Ngäberi
Take ya head out
ya bodi
Gravity
40 + Confuse
40
40
HP 400
HP 400
HP 400
Salomar
Mola Mash
Overpay
40
40
20
Coco Toss
Smell Bad
20
30 + Poison
Give Directions
20 + Confuse
[email protected]
34
La Vaina
Your
Panamanian
Stars
Gemini (May 21 - June 20)
After almost 4 years of trying to get
it off the ground, including a government shutdown—it turns out all
the Republicans needed was to wait
for the Obamacare website to fail.
Keep this in mind, Gemini, when
you’re worried about projects or decisions you might not agree with.
Technical difficulties can delay your
problems.
Cancer (June 21- July 22)
Germany has recently accused the
NSA of spying on German citizens in
their own country. NSA responded,
“No, we’re spying on our own people!”, which seemed to appease the
Germans. Cancer, sometimes the
simplest explanation can appease an
angered party. However, keep in
mind that the excuse might offend
someone else.
Leo (July 23 - August 22)
The New Jersey accent has just been
ranked the 5th sexiest accent in
North America. Before you get too
excited, Leo, the ranking was out of
8 other North American accents.
Keep this in mind when you rank
yourself amongst others. It doesn’t
matter as much as you might think.
Virgo (Aug. 23 - Sept. 22)
John Lithgow, who you might know
from “How I Met Your Mother” (he
plays Barney’s Dad) or “Third Rock
from the Sun”, is possibly the most
versatile actor of today. He’s been
goofy, he’s been a serial killer, he’s
been a dad and a Yoda impersonator. Virgo, this month, I would like
you to take a page from his book and
think of all the ways you can be different from who you think you are.
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22)
Mattel once created a Ken doll called
“Magic Earring Ken”, where he
they were wrong—Red Sox fans can
become more insufferable (no offense, Red Sox fans). It has even been
said that the Red Sox’s have become
the Yankee’s with beards. Capricorn,
be careful with your fanaticisms
since things change quickly.
wears an earring (in one ear) and a
mesh t-shirt. While he was quickly
removed from circulation, Libra, you
should commend Mattel on their
open minded-ness, even though that
may not have been the intention. I
recommend you keep this in mind
while you create your new project
ideas—even if it might be misguided, it might open the minds of those
around you.
Scorpio (Oct. 23 - Nov. 21)
Jeff Bridges, better known in some
circles as The Dude, is coming out
with a new book this year, called The
Dude and The Zen Master, where he
and a close friend talk about The
Dude-isms and Zen Koans. Chapter
titles include: “Sometimes you eat
the bear, and sometimes, well, the
bear eats you”, “Phone’s ringin’,
Dude” and “Sorry, I wasn’t listening”. Keep these Koans in mind
when you start off the New Year,
whether with your new projects,
new ideas or new journeys.
Sagittarius (Nov. 22 - Dec. 21)
During a high speed chase, a Connecticut man threw a parrot at pursuing officers. He was then arrested.
Sagittarius, although you might have
creative responses to discretionary
punishments, think them through
before you throw your real or metaphoric parrot at those frustrating
your life.
Capricorn (Dec. 22 - Jan. 19)
After winning their 3rd World Series
rings in 10 years, physicists realized
Aquarius (Jan. 20 - Feb.18)
Some people are claiming that poetry is falling out of public favor or
that it’s like a song without background music. Others are still embracing the genre as a form of personal expression. Aquarius, embrace
your personal expression, whether
as poetry, music or anything else—
and ignore what others are saying.
Pisces (Feb. 19 - March 20)
The mayor of Toronto, Canada, has
recently admitted to doing crack
when he drinks. Not only does he
refuse to resign, he claims that alcohol is the real gateway drug. Remember this, Pisces, when you leapfrog your bad habits—and keep it
classy.
Aries (March 21 - April 19)
After losing all that weight, headlines when Chris Christie won reelection (and became the frontrunner
for the GOP presidential candidacy)
read: “There’s an elephant in the
room!” Double entendres are beautiful, Aries, but be careful with your
fat jokes.
Taurus (April 20 - May 20)
Blockbuster recently closed their
doors for good, Taurus. That means
that whatever movies you still have
from those days where, “be kind,
please rewind” had meaning, they
are all yours. However, it’s okay to
be nostalgic for a simpler time, when
a random act of kindness simply
meant rewinding a video tape.
(All horoscopes are made up with
the help of a little campo insanity and
“Wait, Wait, Don’t Tell Me”, the
awesome NPR podcast. Please, do
not take them seriously.)
January 2014
35
salt
optional:
1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
1 tablespoon grated, toasted coconut
Caramelized Onion &
Spinach Olive Oil
Quick Bread
Kim Nettles
G70 TE, Darien
3 tsp olive oil, divided
1 large yellow onion, cut in half
through the root, and thinly sliced
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups (packed) spinach leaves
2 garlic cloves, minced
2 1/2 cups flour (whole wheat is superb!)
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
2 eggs, lightly beaten
3/4 cup milk
2/3 cup olive oil
Heat 2 teaspoons olive oil in a
large skillet set over medium heat. Add the onion to
the pan. Season with 1/2
teaspoon salt. Cook for 10
minutes, reduce the heat to
medium-low, and cook until
the onions are golden
brown, about 10 additional
minutes.
Add 1 teaspoon olive oil to the
onions, then stir in garlic
and spinach leaves. Stir until
the spinach is wilted and
bright green, about 1 minute. Remove from the heat.
In a medium bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder,
and salt.
In a large bowl, combine eggs,
lightly beaten, milk, and olive oil. Whisk well until
combined.
Pour the flour mixture into the
eggs mixture and stir until
just combined. Do not over
mix or the bread will become
tough. Add the spinach mixture and stir until just combined.
Lightly grease your double paila
or pan with oil to avoid
sticking. Scoop the batter
into the pan and smooth the
top. Bake until the top is
light golden brown, about 20
- 30 minutes.
Let cool for around 15 minutes
before devouring the whole
loaf in a gluttonous rage.
Bocas Banana Bread
Colleen Hickey
G73 EH, Bocas del Toro
1/2 bola cacao, finely shaven
1/2 cup oil
1 cup sugar
2 large eggs
1 teaspoon vanilla
3 ripe bananas or 6 maduros
1 tablespoon milk,
or 1 teaspoon
KLIM plus
water
1 teaspoon
ground cinnamon
2 cups allpurpose
flour
1 teaspoon
baking
powder
1 teaspoon
baking soda
1 teaspoon
[email protected]
In saucepan, heat oil over low flame and
add cacao, gently stirring until combined. Remove from heat and allow to
cool completely. Once cool, add sugar.
Then, add the eggs one at a time, beating
well after each. Add in vanilla.
In small bowl, mash bananas and add
milk, stirring well. Add to cacao mixture.
In large bowl, combine flour, cinnamon,
nutmeg, baking powder, baking soda,
and salt. Add-in to cacao-banana mixture, mixing just until dry ingredients
disappear.
Pour into an oiled pan and bake 60-70
min at 350F (or if using a double paila,
under a low flame). When done, sprinkle
top with coconut; allow to cool completely prior to serving.
36
La Vaina
Alcantar, Nelly Alsup, Sarah Bailey, Heather Bailey, Stephen Barnes, Thomas Beitsch,
Rebecca Boom, Alexander Bringardner, Nicholas Butler, Andrew Carter, Tempest Clay,
Rebecca Cousar, Catherine Duckworth, Nickie Duggan, Catherine Ezell, Emily Falco,
Bridget Fay, Miranda Garcia, Claudia Gembala, Adrienne Glenn, Austin
Gruen, Jessica Harvey, Lauren Hicks, Savannah Hills, Emily
Hines, Anne Hoover, Allyson Leaness, Jill Linck, Jasmine
Johnson, Margaret Jolles, Felipe Mack, Sara Mackin, Chelsea
Mckendrick, Kayla Milne, Harrison Mitnik, Abraham Moore,
Sara Morgan, Sydney Nettles, Kimberly Padilla, Eugenia
Palmer, Grayce Peshek, Kathleen Pothast, Lindsey Rivera, Stephanie Sokol, Jaclyn Suzuki, Kimberly Szabados,
Sina Tusa, Nathan Vander Molen, Matthew Walsh,
Sara Willert, Katherine Young, Brennan Young, Lacey
Alcantar, Nelly Alsup, Sarah Bailey, Heather Bailey,
Stephen Barnes, Thomas Beitsch, Rebecca Boom,
Alexander Bringardner, Nicholas Butler, Andrew
Carter, Tempest Clay, Rebecca Cousar, Catherine
Duckworth, Nickie Duggan, Catherine Ezell,
Emily Falco, Bridget Fay, Miranda Garcia,
Claudia Gembala, Adrienne Glenn, Austin
Gruen, Jessica Harvey, Lauren
Hicks, Savannah Hills, Emily Hines,
Anne Hoover, Allyson Leaness, Jill Linck, Jasmine Johnson, Margaret Jolles, Felipe Mack, Sara Mackin, Chelsea Mckendrick, Kayla Milne, Harrison Mitnik,
Abraham Moore, Sara Morgan, Sydney Nettles,
Kimberly Padilla, Eugenia Palmer, Grayce
Peshek, Kathleen Pothast, Lindsey Rivera,
Stephanie Sokol, Jaclyn Suzuki, Kimberly Szabados,
Sina Tusa, Nathan Vander
Molen,
Matthew

January - Peace Corps Panama Friends

Transcription

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