The One with Nick and Amber

Like I had done with my previous visitors, I asked Nick and Amber to write a little something about their experience in Buena Esperanza.. here is what they wanted to share:

(Amber)We boarded the small Copa airline in Jacksonville Florida and found our seats toward the back. Being two of the first to get on, we settled in and waited, watching as the remaining passengers filed in and found their places as well. It didn’t take long to realize that something had changed in the atmosphere around us, something was very different. It was complete cultural immersion of the Spanish influence and we were quite all of a sudden the minority. As standard passenger procedures and emergency instructions sounded from the speakers above our heads we noticed that the Spanish version came first and a compacted, edited English version came second. All around us suddenly became very unfamiliar and at that disorienting moment in time it was evident that our journey had indeed begun. Our names are Nick Aguilar and Amber Wade, and we had been afforded the amazing opportunity to spend a month in Panama with Peace Corps volunteer, Michelle Aguilar.

(Nick) After much anticipation for our long awaited trip, the wheels of the jet finally touched down. As i gaze out the window my eye is drawn toward a rickety sign hung on a fence welcoming us to panama (Bienvenidos a Panama). First bags off the conveyor, first ones through customs, which was nothing more than a quick glance and a stamp to our Passports, we head out the doors to the awaiting crowd of bus and taxi drivers. After a few “No hablo’s” and “Yo no se’s” we find Michelle coming towards us with welcoming arms. Fatigued from our flights we head to the hustle and bustle of Panama City. It took no more than three days of the constant horn communication and roaring diablo rojos(public transportation), before we were more than ready for the slow and steady living of Buena Esperanza. It was a Sunday when we arrived which meant most of the village would be gathered watching the soccer game against the neighboring community. My initial impression of the people of B.E. is one I will surely never forget. We stood watching the game come to an end on a field half covered in thick mud. There were two soccer goals made of bamboo and boundary lines marked by the tall grass that had not been cut. I was surprised to see that none of the players were wearing shin guards. At a closer look they weren’t even wearing shoes. Something that seemed to be such a necessity when I used to play is something these guys went without. Just one of the many good fortunes that i used to and probably still do take for granted. Yet here these guys are happy as pie, running through the mud, doing their thing. Our afternoon was spent surrounded by children with joy filled eyes, carrying giant smiles and exceedingly curious hands. Much to my delight i soon found myself running barefoot through the ankle deep mud, the cool moist earth beneath my feet seeping through my toes and slowing my stride, as i play childhood games with the local boys. It was a joyful reminder that, unlike languages, there are no barriers with laughter.

(Amber) I was so eager to get to our temporary home during the boat ride from the neighboring town of Almirante. It kinda felt like we would never arrive, but as I knelt in the mud patched grass on the outer edge of Buena Esperanzas only recreational field watching Nicholas play with the younger village boys, I could no longer understand why I felt the need to be anywhere else. All the distracting aspects of life dropped out and away from my minds eye, simply melting, sliding far down into the very bottom of where my thoughts are held. Curious eyes were everywhere, mainly in the faces of the children, all cautiously timid and perhaps a little confused, following my every move while I remained kneeling to watch the interaction taking place with Nicholas out on the field. It warmed my heart to see how pleased they were with his interest and participation, as though an act such as this did not occur often, if at all. Out of the corner of my eye I caught movement, soon noticing that whatever it was advanced upon me. Turning my head and my attention, I caught a small girl towing behind her an even smaller little boy, both wearing nothing but undies and a wide toothy grin, still a bit cautious but apparently too interested to keep their distance any longer. Others of about the same age remained still where the two braver ones had just left, giggling to each other behind dirty hands. The grinning pair now stood before me with nervous dirty fingers in their mouths, eyes wide yet happy, searching my own for any kind of encouragement. We could not understand each others words, but the expressions, the movements, the common understanding of the language of our bodies connected us in a way that words never could. I motioned them to come closer, keeping my face positive, smiling reassuring, until together they crept slowly, and slower still until finally I held one of each of their hands in my own. Of all my journeys, of all my experiences in this life, there never has been, nor will there ever be anything quite like the companionship of a child.

We spent a month in B.E. Unfortunately we don’t have the time or the patience to write about our day to day experiences, so we will chose a few that stood out.

The World Map

(Nick) From the get go we were all very excited. Pencils, measuring tape, chalk box and modified yard stick in hand, we set out for our canvas. For the next few weeks it consumed us. Our morning kayak rides to the village began to blend. We quickly learned to call it a day before the shadow casted by the school disappeared beneath our feet, exposing us to the unrelenting sun. It came together in three main stages, gridding, drawing and painting. Forming the grid was by far the most tedious. After several attempts and many calculations, we found it best to fit 1,568 3in boxes into a 16ft8in x 8ft4in big box. This part seemed never ending and the locals looked at us like we were crazy. Here we were working so hard and so excited to have a bunch of lines drawn on the side of a building, if you could have only seen some of the awkward looks we were receiving. Finally we were all spread out and able to reflect on our own thoughts while constructing our very own portions of the earths surface.

(Amber) Its true that the grid work took the longest, and was quite tedious, Id go so far as to say slightly irritating in fact. But the drawing, oh the drawing. After spending so much time laying down the grid, day after day, putting hours and hours into work that seemed stubborn to reveal progress, finally beginning able to see bits and pieces of countries take their forms was surprisingly relieving. I could feel some of the substantial weight of the project begin to lift off my chest. With each line added, each 3” grid block completed and holding its own piece of the world I would feel a little lighter and smile a little bigger. With certain battles, especially one of such proportions, its true that visual progress will sooth the battle wounds and keep hope floating. Miche says this concept is very American =) I was relieved none the less. We started from the bottom of the wall, the three of us squatting low against the hot earth, fire ants challenging our ability to remain steady. By this time, considering several days had passed since wed begun, I realized that our audience, aside from the occasional curious random stray, was made up of the same fascinated school children who were seen watching us every day. They’d stare through the chain linked fencing that filled the window panes of the old school building where they still attended classes until the new one we were painting on was ready. Apparently we put on a spectacular show, because I noticed those same small, shy faces marveling from a fair distance during recess and sometimes even lingering after school let out. I love knowing that our work interested some of the locals, and especially the younger generations, those who stand the best chance of seeing brighter days. Through the utilization of tools such as the map, the world that, for now, lay in our hands, these very children who express such interest will be given the opportunity to put it to use in a positive way. Occasionally someone would question what it was we were doing. I wish I would have counted how many times we were asked what kind of map we were making. I have to say, the first time I was thrown off and relatively surprised. I am not sure why, because I had been told of the limited amount of knowledge and had already resigned to the fact that our perceptions of the world greatly differed. But none the less I was caught off guard a little. Eventually, I came to expect it and answered all questions as best I could in broken bits of spanish and lots of hand gestures. Before long, almost all the grid blocks had been filled appropriately and soon the painting would begin. Things were really coming along now, and as the world began to reveal itself, more and more locals stopped to check it out. I know we all felt so good every time a hard working farmer, covered in mud and worn through from the days work, stopped to look and give his praise. Every “muy bien” and “bonito” went straight to our hearts.

(Nick) Throughout the project thus far and despite all the work and progress we’ve seen, our world looked dirty, scuff marks here, eraser marks there. But as Michelle started to paste on the deep ocean blue of the pacific it began to make things brighter, gradually, slowly a little less dirty, and after staring at such a dull canvas for so many days, it was a rewarding sight. At this point our audience and onlookers couldn’t fight the temptation anymore. As soon as they saw color go up on the wall they were eager and more than ready to get their hands dirty. I was very excited about their interest and happy to have their help, after all, this map is for them, part of their community. At one point I was doing nothing but delegating due to the amount of help we had and the lack of paintbrushes. I could see the worry in Michelle and Ambers eyes and actions when relinquishing a paintbrush to a helper. It was a though they were passing on their own child for someone else’s care. The children did outstanding, looking at their work with proud smiles, after bringing color to their very own part of this world. Most of my painting consisted of the ocean that bordered the land. At times it would wear on my patience, working my way in and out of the scattered islands that lay north of Canada and Russia. (Amber)Queen Elizabeth lent her name to many a landmass. (Nick cont.) It was slow and trying and there were times where I would try to pass it off to Michelle or Amber, but they would quickly inform me that this particular battle was mine as they had their own.. But I feel the truth of it was that they knew who held the steadier hand. Therefore, I stuck it out, and when the last touch of blue was in place, I climbed down off my ladder and stood back to see that our world which was once so dull and bare reflected back at us with vibrant color.

We had one final step before the map could be considered a finished product. The only thing we had left to do was label the countries, oceans and continents. This part went quick with the help of most of the students. We wrote out little labels with tape on the backs for them to place on their corresponding locations. It was shear madness, but wonderful rewarding madness. The kids did so well and were so proud. Even the teachers came out to delegate, almost as though it were a previously planned part of their curriculum. In the end, the finished product was absolutely beautiful and surprisingly accurate. It was hard to believe that this masterpiece was created as the fruits of our labor. As happy as we were to start it, we were even happier to see it finished, and are proud to show people what hard work and commitment can do, especially when the results directly impact others in such a wonderful way.

A Tribute to Friends

During our time in Buena Esperanza ,I guess you could say we made a few friends. Unfortunately they are the friendships that will most likely fade, only time will tell, but at least we were able to share a short amount of time in each others company.

Here’s to the Cayuco man: Your craftsmanship was beautiful and it’s a privilege to pass it on as a gift to our loved ones. You play a mean harmonica and cook a savory stew, your hospitality will not be forgotten. May your son grow to be strong and wise.

Senor Pantelones: Your work was amazing, your stitching steady and true. We feel so fortunate to own custom Nogbe pants created by your hand. It was a joy to stroll the countryside of your village, making our way to your home to deliver necessary materials, as well as seeing the pride in your face and stature when presenting the finished product.

To our little amigo: You are but nine years old and carry a smile brighter and more contagious than most we’ve come across. We feel so fortunate to have bonded with you through friend and truly hope that one day you come to realize that you gave us so much more than we were able to give you. Your interest and participation during our stay made it all the batter. May your light shine on. Dame Cinco(Give me five)

To the teacher of the children: You should be so proud. The influence you have on your students is inspiring and your ability to learn is impressive. We will miss our half and half conversations.

Dear ExPats: You enhanced our stay greatly with enlightening and educational walks through your property as well as delicious meals in good company. Your sincerity and genuine good nature comforted our stay and warmed our hearts. We truly felt right at home. Its a weight off our minds to have you so close and so willing to help Michelle if she’s ever in need.

And last but not least, a tribute to Meti… Ohh Meti. You were a wonderful guide hostess and companion. It was an absolute honor to have been a part of your current life in B.E. and we are both swelling with pride for what you have done and what you will continue to do. You’ve surely adapted well to this new lifestyle, bringing a homey nature to a bare wooden structure. It was both amazing and inspiring for us to see how you longed to be back “home” in B.E after being away for only a short time, obviously you have developed a true connection to your village. This is probably one of the most difficult parts and you appear to have mastered it gratefully. Remain true to your beliefs as well as the goals you’ve set for yourself, no matter how big or small, and try not to let outside influences take the focus from your cause. To do your part is to remember this. Know that a difference is being made, even if it’s hard to see.

With Love and Pride, Nick and Amber

Helpful Tips for the Buena Esperanza Traveler

*Don’t hike across the village during a heavy rainstorm. Coastal communities are prone to flash flooding and rubber gum boots will sink pretty deep in the mud and rushing water.

*Golden Orb spiders, though harmless, may influence severe panic when webbing plasters to face while in mid stride.

*If your Spanish isn’t up to par, know and except that you will be laughed at daily by the locals.

*Don’t be alarmed by open breastfeeding and pantless children. It happens more frequently than you would imagine and there’s no sense in turning beet red over it.

*When giant moths hit you in the face, don’t panic and flail wildly. Remember, it’s only a moth, remain calm. It’s not worth causing a ridiculous scene for observing parties while butt naked.

*If you think you may have Leshmeniasis but aren’t sure, do not, under any circumstance, refer to girlfriends knowledge of crazy jungle diseases, which she knows nothing about, and soak the infected area in boiling hot water. Not only will this be un-necessarily painful, but chances are the infected area is going to spread rapidly.

*When traversing rough seas in a small boat remember not to panic. Try quoting Lt. Dan from Forrest gump by shouting “You’ll never take this boat” It may or may not help.

Good luck and Vaya Con Dios

Click on the links below to see some videos from Nick and Amber´s stay in Buena Esperanza

World map Video

Video 1

Video 2

Video 3

Video 4

More Pictures from September

Semptember 2010

The One with the World Map

Over a year ago, “The World Map Project” was introduced to me during Peace Corps training. It is an optional secondary project that Peace Corps volunteers worldwide have done. Before even knowing my site assignment, I knew that this was a project I wanted to do. So I was hoping my community wouldn’t crush my dreams and would allow me (or better yet, help me) to do it.

I thought doing this project within my first few months in Buena Esperanza would be a great way for me to get to know my community members, show my face at the school, practice my Spanish, etc. So early last December, I eagerly pitched the idea at a Padres de Familia meeting. I showed them the information booklet I had, explained the process, assured them that it would not be of any monetary cost to them, and pointed out all the advantages of having this map would be for the students. Unfortunately, as soon as I brought up the fact that I wanted to work “Hombro a hombro” (a very common Peace Corps Panama phrase, meaning shoulder to shoulder) with them, I was completely shut down. “oh, yea, that’s a lot of work Meti” or “ We don’t have time for that” and of course “but you can do it if you want” Excuses flew at me from every direction. Discouraged, I vividly remember sitting in my host house, and thinking about their excuses…. Too much work? Really? How can this be too much work? They put in full days in their farms doing the type of physical labor most Americans would never dream of doing just so there family can eat that night…and painting a map would be too much work? And about this not enough time thing… Each Thursday 45 dads/moms are required to work for the school, usually, they just end up chopping the grass because there isn’t really anything else to do. Also besides these designated Thursday workdays, I KNOW they had time….this was definitely not a justifiable excuse. A little heartbroken that this project may not become a reality, I slid my paperwork into my accordion file folder for the cockroaches to nest in.

Fast forward a few months….my Brother (Nick) and his girlfriend (Amber) mentioned that they were throwing around the idea of coming to stay with me for and extended visit, a little over a month. Before committing, my brother warned me of something I already knew. That is, his need to be doing something, not just anything, something productive. Both of them, having served in the Marines for four years, had become accustomed to a pretty structured lifestyle. Down time (or as I call it, hammock time) was not part of the plan. I remember a phone call with Nick where he told me numerous times “you better have some work for me to do.” They were not looking for your typical Bocas snorkel vacation. They wanted to get involved in my “new” life, in my community, in the Ngobe culture... and so begun my Nick and Amber to-do list. The list was lengthy, it seemed like I added something new to it each day. There is so much I want to do in my community, it was going to be wonderful to have four extra hands!!! There was no way Nick nor Amber would find themselves without anything to do. Then, one day during one of my weekly/daily cleaning escapades I came across the World Map booklet, that I had stashed away months earlier…. And yes, the cockroaches did indeed take full advantage of these forgotten papers. So this got me to reminisce. Why I had given up on this project last year? A split second later, I was smacking my head with that very booklet, realizing how incredibly naïve I had been.

After spending time getting to know my community members, and the Ngobe culture, it is crystal clear what was going on that day I introduced the project to the Padres de Familia. It wasn’t that they didn’t have time or didn’t want to work… it was that they thought they were completely incapable of doing a project like this! The Ngobes, are historically very passive aggressive people. We were warned about this during training. But let’s be honest, most of what I learned during training I had forgotten anyways. So while most of these parents could not even point out water from land on a map, here I was asking them to help me draw the entire world from scratch. And it’s not like I was asking them to draw it someplace small or hidden where no one was likely to see it. Oh no, I wanted it on the side of the school, in the middle of the community, 16 feet by 8 feet, each country labeled and painted a different color. Time consuming? Ok. Alot of work? I guess. But the likelihood of being embarrassed in front of their fellow community members and children….. yeah, exactly…. Stupid, stupid, stupid Michelle.

Once I had this epiphany, it was decided! This was the project to do with Nick and Amber!

I got permission from the teachers, but didn’t tell anyone else of our plans. My hope was that we would begin the project and the community would become curious, start asking questions and maybe even offer to help. We started on a Thursday morning, so there was lots of hustle and bustle going on. Right away, we drew a crowd. I began explaining one by one what our plan was, and how this grid system of drawing worked. Students and their parents would sit for hours watching us sketch the world, poco a poco. To my dismay, even with my encouragement, there were still no community volunteers to help draw the map… But that all changed once the outline was done and the paint came out. I like to think that my community helpers were really genuine in lending a hand. However, I think the truth lies more towards the fact that most have never painted before, and they were curious.

Once assigned their country, and they were fully equipped with their weapon; a paintbrush fully loaded, they would eagerly attack the wall. However, they had yet to learn the difference between painting and coloring. Reality hit them quick when their brush did not function the same as a crayon….there were numerous times I felt like screaming “if one more drop of Tanzania’s purple falls into Mozambique… you are sooo fired!” Don’t worry, I didn’t actually say this….not in Spanish at least =) I was so pleased to have community help and it proved to be the best time for conversations such as this to happen:

Picture the map, completely drawn and we are working on painting the last of the countries.

“So, Meti, what is this a picture of?” (as he paints China pink)

“It is a map.”

“Oh really, where is my house?

“Well, actually, this is a map of the world…So this part here is Central American, Panama is this red area, Bocas del Toro is up here towards Costa Rica, Buena Esperanza would be a little out into the water, because we are on a peninsula right? so then I guess your house would be right here… next to the church”

“Haha, wow… Panama is really chiquitito. But it seems so big! And your place Meti?” (meaning where I am from)

“My place, is up here in the Unites States. And just like Panama has 9 Provinces, the US has 50 states. I am from the most beautiful of all those states it is called California.”

“hmmmm, it looks like I could walk there.”

I knew that my community had an interest in geography and the world. I have a world map in my “house”, and almost daily I receive questions, from children and adults. Because of the tourism industry in Bocas my community has recently become more and more exposed to different nationalities. They see the flags on the cruisers boats and hear the funny accents on the streets of Bocas town. Undoubtedly, this sparks some curiosity. Once they became comfortable with me, and they knew I was not going to laugh at them, the questions began and have not stopped since. They ask about where a certain country is located, what the people are like that live there, and how much it would cost to travel there. During the making of this world map alone, I was asked by well over 30 people, adults not students. Where Panama was located? Most common response, wow “chiquitito.” To which I always respond, “yes, it is small, but Panama is the heart of the Americas!” By now, I am not surprised to receive these questions; however, I will admit that I was caught off guard when I had to explain to the teacher what the difference between a continent and a country were.

Regardless of what the song says, I know this was a project I never would have been able to accomplish “with my own two hands.” And I am so glad that I didn’t have too! It turns out Nick, Amber and I work really well together, not to mention that we unquestionably kept my community entertained on a daily biases. Frequently, something would happen and all three of us would bust out in laughter, attempting but often failing to control ourselves, because class was in session. Whether it was Nick reassuring us girls that we “we’re not building a piano” when we were a quarter inch off on our measurements (a saying we all know he got from my Uncle Chip), or when Amber spent hours precisely drawing all the South Pacific islands, only to be told that we were going to have to paint over them with ocean and then re-do it or when I followed a crack on the wall instead of a pencil line when outlining Africa in permanent black marker. And don’t even get me started on Nick and Amber trying to speak Spanish. Laughter was constant...it was good for the heart!

I have been told that this map is going to be my "mark" in the community. It is what I will leave behind and be remembered by when my time is up next year. It will be my gift to Buena Esperanza, and it will remain forever... Well, that is great. A map is a good gift, I agree. But in all honesty I hope that this doesn’t prove to be true. I hope after two years in Buena Esperanza the mark I leave is not of the physical nature, not something that a camera could capture, or you can touch or hold in your hand. It may be what the students and community members learn from the map or maybe what they learned from participating in the process of making the map… but not the map itself. I want my gift to be intangible and immeasurable. I hope my mark is in the development of a people, and if that starts with giving them the knowledge of where in the world they are located, well then we have taken our first step.

World Map Project

Click on the picture above for a photo story of the map making. Or check out our video on you tube by clicking on the link below.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IMlBZ9REWpk

Peace from Panama!
Meti

The One When she wins the Premium

There are apparently 3 things that must be done to win the respect of my community. Mind you that it took me over a year of trial and error to figure these out. And now, I will selflessly share the key to success with all of you.

Number 1: Walk. Walk very very far. Walk further than any other woman in the community has every walked and walk to a place only a handful of desperate men have ventured.

Number 2: Dance. Dance like a gringa trying to dance like a Panamanian. Dance without stopping. Dance to a 15 min song with no words and hardly even a tempo. Dance even when you’re the only one on the dance floor and everyone else is sheepishly gigging at you. Just dance like no one is watching!

Number 3: Learn how to French Braid.

I will respect the numerical system and begin with the numero uno. This is the tale of my quest for the highway. For those of you thinking I am on a Caribbean island, think again. Maybe I have not made this clear since my post when I found out where I was going. Because well, let’s face it, sometimes it is a lot more dreamy to think I get to get to live 2 years on a Caribbean island where I can see dolphin jump freely outside my window and fresh chocolate is grown in my back yard. Wait…actually, this is my reality… only it is a Caribbean peninsula not an island.

I am sure you have noted either through my stories or my photos that my site is what the Peace Corps office deems a “Boat access only community.” All of my travels in and out of site are in some sort of boat. However, from the beginning, rumor had it that there was actually a way to walk out. And the three of us volunteers out here on the peninsula have been itching to explore this road to freedom. Because, I may have said this before and I am sure I will say it again; but the absolute hardest and most frustrating thing about where I live is not having consistent transportation and always having to rely on someone else to get me from point A to point B. So, if in fact there existed an exit strategy that solely relied on the endurance of my 2 legs… I was all about finding it.

Unfortunately, the day of this particularly scheduled peninsula exploration, coincided with a very important Artisan meeting I had planned. So I was going to have to stay behind this time, and I was not happy about that! The group going consisted of 3 other PC volunteers, a local guide and a few government cacao workers. They all meet up early morning in my community before heading out. I visited with them for a while, taking pictures and whining about how I wanted to go. I wished them safe travels as they hiked off and then I returned back to my house to cook breakfast and feel sorry for myself that I wasn’t able to go with them… Ten minutes later there was a knock on my door. Roberto, the teacher, came to inform me that he was going to the mainland (via boat) that afternoon, and if I wanted to hike with my friends I could meet him and ride back in time for the Artisan meeting in the evening. You would have thought I just won the lottery. I sprang into action; packing my bag with the essentials; water, sunscreen, a hardboiled egg. And I was off… running through my community. I felt like I was competing in a marathon. Each house I passed there was someone hanging out the window or sitting on the front porch cheering me on. “Go Meti go” they were saying, pointing me in the direction of where the group had just gone. The little kids in their underwear would run alongside me until they grew tired and/or bored. Finally, I caught up with the group and we started our adventure together.

Did I mention we had a local guide? A Ngobe from a neighboring village where my friend Lee (another volunteer) works. Our local guide swore to us he had hiked the peninsula many a time and he could show us the way no problem. His moto from the beginning was “un solo camino,” meaning “only one trail.” He would say this repetitively, ensuring us it would be difficult to get lost because there is “un solo camino.” Right… well, I was not holding my breath on this promise, which it turns out, was a good choice. About 15 minutes into the hike our guide was lost, and we quickly realized that this so called “solo camino” would end up being the camino that would be made by us, hacking out way through the thick jungle.

Needless to say our “quest” for the highway was exactly that… a hunt, an expedition, a journey, an adventure. The “un solo camino” hike was suppose to take 3 hours tops, but the actual hike, what I like to call the “no camino” hike took us about 6 1/2 hours. This of course includes the random stops to visit with the lonely people that live way out there and then some time spent avoiding the nature supplied barriers like a wasp nest. But we made it!!!

As soon as we hit the road, I hopped on a bus and made it to the port town literally just as my boat was pulling away. Thankfully he came back for me, and we made it back to Buena Esperanza in time for the Artisan meeting. As I got off the boat in my community and walked the stairs up to our community rancho I noticed there was an abnormally large amount of people there. I greeted them, Buenas tardes, and continued on to my house. I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt whatever sort of meeting it seemed they were having. But before I could even change out of my dirty and sweaty hiking clothes the entire group was on my front porch yelling questions to me through the walls. Apparently, they were all waiting for me to return. And it did not matter how tired I was and how much a really just wanted to relax and be alone… they were not going to leave until they heard all about it. I didn’t realize it before but I was now one of only a hand full of people who had ever done that hike from Buena Esperanza. If I had only know that a day of unforgettable adventure and hiking (one of my favorite things to do) would afford me celebrity status in my community, I would have gone a long time ago =)

Moving on to numero dos:

I am happy to announce that Buena Esperanza has FINALLY completed the construction of their/our new dock!!! All I have to say is THANK GOD!

And to celebrate we threw a little fiesta, Buena Esperanza style.

Luckily, I had two other volunteers visiting me at the time, because moments like this are always so much better when they are shared with others. I am sure this party will be something the three of us will be reminiscing about years from now.

The docks inauguration celebration was kicked off with a few lengthy speeches by some of the community leaders. Next was a grand introduction of our community band (which I introduced you guys to in my last post). They followed with their first ever public performance. They were definitely playing for a tough crowd. The community members were staring blankly up at the sky or down at their feet while the band put their best foot forward. When they finished the three of us volunteers were the only ones to break the awkward silence with applause. I couldn’t really tell if this was a cultural difference or if they actually really didn’t like the music.

In an attempt to liven the crowd, it was Piñata time. A sugar high is the best thing to get a part started. But this was campo style piñata at its finest, no bat, no blindfold, and no cute little cartoon character to crush until the head falls off. Oh no, we don’t need any of that. The most important thing about a piñata is what’s inside right? My Ngobes know that. They skip most of the charades and get down to business. The children split into age groups and the adults separated into gender groups… they were not about to miss out on this. Then, one by one each group would stand close together while the teacher would toss handfuls of candy up into the air. So I guess to be fair, their method did in fact add some sort of element of surprise. There were no free handouts of candy. A small amount of work and strategy had to be applied to satisfy that sweet tooth.

Once everyone was on a sugar high, the band made another appearance. This time the crowd was much more vivacious. They all started provoking one another to be the first person to get up and dance. It went on in this middle school fashion for awhile. …
“you go dance first…”

“No way, you go”

“Well somebody needs to show Meti how to dance.”

“Meti, who o you want to teach you?”

“We all want to see Meit dance!!!”

Finally, the teacher, Roberto, was out of his seat. I quickly met him in the middle of the dance floor where we were met with roaring applause and laughter from the crowd. Shortly after, we were joined by my other PCV friend and her Ngobe dance companion.

Little did I know what we had gotten ourselves into. With each new song a different community member would step forward wanting a chance to show Meti how to dance like a Panamanian. I had put myself in the mercy of the band and unknowingly signed myself up to dance until the music stopped… which seemed like hours! Eventually, they ran out of songs to play and I made my curtain call with my favorite dance partner, 9 year old Kenneth.

What a day, what an experience, and what an amazing memory that I will cherish forever.

Tres….

The third item on my list really doesn’t have a story behind it. Just that I have been teaching myself to French braid, really, just to keep my hair off my face and neck. I had finally gotten to the point where I was confident enough to wear my braid out in public. Little did I know how much Buena Esperanza “street cred” these 3 twisted pieces of hair would give me, mostly among the women. I am the only woman in the community that prefers pants to skirts so i like to think that maybe just maybe my braid is a little way for me to show I can be “girlie.” And being girlie is pretty hard to do in these elements.

Well there you have it. One, two, three… Hike, Dance and Braid… the secret to success.

Shortly after my dancing debut and my hike to the highway a woman in my artisan group told me that the community has all been talking about me. She told me that I had won “the premium.” I sarcastically questioned what my prize was, with my hand gestured out in front of me. We all laughed, knowing there is no physical prize to winning “the premium.” For the next year I can only hope that my adventures will once again unknowingly bring me such fame.

Here are some more pictures from the rest of August:

New Picasa

Peace from Panama,

Miche