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:
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Peace from Panama,
Miche
