On the plane back home...

Wow. One thing's for sure. It doesn't feel like two years have past. But they have. It doesn't feel like I'm an RPCV, done with my service abroad and headed for the States. But I am. It doesn't feel like we learned all we did, accomplished all we did and did it all in Spanish. But we did. Is it a sense of accomplishment I feel? Not really. I haven't tried and never will ft these last two years into a little check-box. This has not been a bucket list thang. I see it as a continuum in what I have grown to become and I've become quite a mixture of past, present and future. The privilege has been being able to experience two lives in my one because the rural campo lifestyle has been polar opposite from anything I have ever experienced. It was the hard work that changed me. It was the diet that changed me. It was living outside in nature that put humanity in perspective for me. Changing, changing and changing, but they were the smiles, common morals and dreams among cultures I lived in that kept me the same. But enough of that nonsense, what actually happened?!?!

Lauren and I closed our Peace Corps service on June 27, 2014 at the Panamá office with staff and fellow volunteers looking on. We closed a lot of things: two bank accounts, my aqueduct grant, Lauren's presidency of the Gender and Development Board and a whole lot of suitcases. We rented a car to facilitate the process and avoid the awful transport reality that could have been stuck in a bus missing our flight. A few hours after renting the car, the agency called us to inform us they had rented us the wrong car so if we would be so kind as to bring it back and exchange it. Little did the poor agent know how short our fuse was for Panamá's foibles. I demanded an upgrade to a truck, for them to drive the three hours we had just covered to personally exchange the car and a complete refund of all our money. Surprised, the agent responded in the negative offering us an unspecified "descuento" instead to which I replied, "CLICK!" Poor guy. Panamá's claws were grabbing as we slipped from them.

Our despedida (going away party) in San Juanito was the next afternoon. We showed our appreciation extremely vocally with a showering of affection and compliments and physically by preparing an afternoon of "campesino appreciation activities."

SCREEEEEEEEEECH!

I am going to be honest with you.

It has been nearly four months since I wrote the above message. I am sorry for that, but trust me, we have been keeping plenty busy. Has it been turbulent? Yes. Has it been great? Yes. Has it been difficult? Heck yes. This United States culture is some kind of animal. Who knew the biggest challenge would be re-integration? Any of the times described in the previous blogs, minus the one where Lauren limped across the Interamericana at one in the morning, barely able to walk due to abdominal pain, I would absolutely love to go back to. But you know what gets me through? Panamá is a part of me now. You can't beat me down U.S. You can't scare me with your gun laws and violent movies! You can't make me aspire to be a doofus athlete who beats his wife! You can't stress me out and suck my soul into an iPhone! You can't poison me with your so-called food! You can't addict me to your toxic lifestyle! You can't make us feel ashamed of our bodies! You can't road rage us, we don't want your money and television. "Panamá runs deep," as Lauren would say and I've got Panamá deep in my heart and mind. If I was sophisticated enough to update the URL, I'd change this blog's address to http://panamainalexandlauren.blogspot.com/ Our Panamá adventures are far from over my friends. Far from over!

I hereby declare this blog re-opened for business, come what may.

Can't stop, won't stop,

Alex ;)