Humans Acclimatize

Hey all!

This blog is about acclimatization. Sometimes you get a reality jolt that makes you stop and reflect: "Hmmm...what occurrences in my daily life do I just shrug off as ho-hum used CD store got-it-alreadies?" Here are two anecdotes about getting used to things.

(1) What I should have named this water project was: "Control de flujo" with the key question, "how much do you want coming out of your faucet?" It has been a hassle to install the 1/2-inch PVC rings that calibrate gravity in just the right way to make equal flow around town. That fact doesn't surprise me. I am surprised by how much people's acclimatization to the norm has colored the result. Much to the complaint of my coa-wounded toe (a bit more down and to the left and I would have chopped it right off) I continuously monitor flow rates around town. One way is to ask the user about his or her perception of the flow. Another way is to go to the tap, stick my liter Nalgene bottle in and time the sucker. It is not guaranteed these investigative techniques yield the same answer and get this! Nobody is lying to me! When someone has bathed under 0.841 liters per second everyday for 8 years, 0.8 liters per second truthfully feels like you just can't get the soap off. So when this goofy, bearded foreigner comes around, messes with your system for four, dry days and sets you down at a measly 0.2 liters per second bribing you with popcorn to keep quiet, you start to feel your knickers twisting. People get accustomed to flow rates high or low. People down low receiving gravity's damnedest to blow their $2.95 red-handled, P.O.S. 60-meter rated PVC plumas get used to it. Buying new faucets becomes an incorporated expense and you just close your eyes tight when you get up in your shower so it doesn't blow your eyelids off. People up high struggling to get their hair wet as they hope the pipe doesn't start sucking negative pressure get used to it as well. They hit the magic wash trio: face-to-pits-to-crotch repeat-and-rinse changing their entire daily routines on how much water they get and when. And no one showers much at their friends' place. When I ask, "¿Cómo va el agua?" I've had some lead me to their showers turn on the faucet and leap clear of the exploding stream so as not to get their Sunday clothes soaked, then proceed to tell me: "Muy poquito." One man was celebrating that he managed to get his hair completely wet for the first time because the dribble he had has become a steady stream. I've examined my cultural lenses and realized no one is lying to me. A group of people have acclimatized to a pretty routine occurrence such as turning on the faucet and to them it has changed drastically. This clouds up the project goal to share water equally to a more personalized desired family flow, target practice game, which is considerably harder on my bum toe. Perspective is everything.

(2) I have had a perspective shift too. Sometimes when I get in one of those good-old moods, I am able to spot the change, but it's hard. Today, walking home the thought crossed my mind that maybe this had been the spot Lauren had seen the jaguarundi this time. Hold up! Examine that sentence. A bleeping jaguarundi!?!? What do you mean THIS time!?!? Where is this exotic jungle creature and WHY IN THE HECK am I walking alone in its natural habitat! SO FREAKIN' COOL!!! But alas, I have been acclimated to the craziness. Today I worked in the jungle with my campesino friends and counterparts Misael, Bolivar and Santos. We were putting the finishing touches on the steel reinforcing for their future 850-gallon concrete water storage tank. I am flying by the seat to my pants on the ENTIRE project btw. We talked about the corrupt government and being proud to see their kids off to sixth grade that day, a day that never happened for them. The four dogs we were with cornered a gato espino (porcupine) and got ejected upon to the point that we almost just killed one of them because if we couldn't get the spines out, it wouldn't be able to eat and would slowly starve to death. Hog-tying it and forcing its mouth open by cutting teeth holes in a dirty rag, we managed to slowly extract all the spines from its gums, tongue and the roof if its mouth. It bled a lot, but it seemed to recover quickly and flopped down worn out. Wait! This one gets better. I told Lauren this story on the phone and she was like, "yeah, it will get better." The thing is, she KNOWS that from FIRST HAND EXPERIENCE because one day it happened worse to a dog when she was out working and it survives to this day. Other versions of myself would have received these experiences with polar opposite reactions. My college self would say, "WHAT?!?! You are actually friends with Central American campesinos?!?! You talk to them about the corrupt kleptocrats that bumbled in charge of the country?!?! YOU are going to have NO trouble getting a girlfriend my MAN!" I would have been drooling all over myself then to do what I just take for granted doing now. My scientific process-oriented self would say, "you are just making up tank designs as you go?!?! You MORON! You have to make a demo model, stress test a full range of loads, model the result and extrapolate to a sound design!!!" Given my training and background I shouldn't be just calling out the cement mixes to my team based on what is closest by, but hey! I can be quoted on this, "Got how many of gravel up here? What's 4:2:1 again? Aw heck...throw it in!" In regard to the porcupine injured dog, pretty much any of my selves before Peace Corps would say, "OH MY GOSH!!! Don't move her! I am going to call the emergency vet RIGHT NOW!!!" And yet, there I was today holding the dog down, trying to yank out the blood-slick needles and reminding Misael to let the dog breath through its nose because the blood and saliva was clogging its throat. I've gotten used to all this! Even what I once thought the most fundamental beliefs have been sent for a double loop-the-loop. Just now my neighbor fed me at her house. It was cumpleaños food and I asked whose it was. "Mine," said her daughter Diana as she nursed her 2-month old daughter Miladis, "I'm seventeen." It was just now reflecting on my old and new perspectives that I thought, wow, isn't that a little young to have a 2-month old?" I acclimated to my surroundings. I will be back at it tomorrow, which is Tuesday. Wednesday I will be try to arrange to travel 3 hours by bus to get my flu shot, to return 3 hours, luxuriate in a crappy hotel, wake up at 4:00 am Thursday to get back to making up tank designs and yammin' it up with all my favorite campesinos again! I wonder if I will get reverse culture shock and write this blog in 2016 explaining how my massaging shower head feels, wondering reverently at frozen vegetables and being terrified of the giant dogs when they are really just fed. "What?!?!?" I will gasp in disbelief, "This RedBox spits out MOVIIIIEEEESSSS?!?!?"

What I always do hope is that I will have those special moments where I can step back and be like, "whoa, look at all this!" Acclimating is bizarre.

El día de la entrega

Someone of some prominence must have said at some point, "your love is like a roller coaster baby baby, I wanna ride!" This quote fails to capture anything I want to talk about in this blog, but does mention the words "roller coaster," which are indeed of utmost importance in this blog. Poor introduction aside, I wanted to tell you all about today because it was particular full of triumph and tragedy, awkwardness and delight, good and slightly bothersome.

I remember the volunteer I visited way back when I arrived here in Panamá spoke extensively about the hassle that was "el día de entrega" or delivery day for a latrine project that he was orchestrating. Back then, oh so many activities ago, I thought I would never have a delivery day. Either I would not be capable to get a project going or it was just too far in the future to comprehend. Wellp, today was my "día de entrega" and I am in the midst of a whopper of a project. Who'da thunk? For me it wasn't so much a hassle, but it was sure a roller coaster.

With the alarm set for 5:50 I woke up at 5:00 rearing to go, excitement dominating my chances at sleep. I made my new speciality Dutch baby for breakfast and wolfed down todo anticipating mayhem. The mayhem that one can withstand with a powder-sugared, eggy and rich Dutch baby is significant. Lunch, pasta and sardines, was in a Tupperware already. All my things were laid out so as not to forget: cell phone, miscellaneous PVC parts, the project pickaxe with it's newly varnished handle, the receipts to prove I was the buyer, the laptop to show folks pictures of the trabajo que viene, hacksaw and extra blade, cement float and so on.

One thing you have to understand about this project is that it keeps an open door. Our pool of participants is everyone the new gravity-fed system can reach who does not have a connection to the existing community aqueduct. Among this group, the bag is as mixed as can be: some could care less, some could care medium and some care lots. So when one of my good campesino buddies, who is in the care medium group and still on the fence about participating, stopped me on my hike to the toma area, I heard him out. A slightly paranoid fellow, he is convinced someone cuts his tubes every time he connects somewhere. In his mysterious way of weaving the truth, I caught the paranoia fever as well. The rest of my hike I fell into dark thoughts of what to do if no one showed. With $1400 spent and gone, this was a dismal prospect.

I sweated profusely and when I rounded the bend into Papayal a cold wind and misty rain chilled my already cool thoughts. At the toma I looked around, stamping on this dirt and that dirt para ver if it was firma or not. I walked the salida over the hill, looked for Más Movil signal to call the hardware store later and sat down on a rock. Eight o'clock, the start time, came and went, I scratched Carmencita's ears. This was the low. Could it be that I had misinterpreted months of meetings and preparation work? Would I be stood up like a buffoon?

Both the president and secretary of the directiva brought horses. I was so relieved I could have hugged all four of them had tradition not dictated to be more appropriate a handshake among men and a general abstaining from hugging horses unless your that girl from National Velvet or tienes ganas de ticks. The thing you should to know about la hora panameña is that it is not the same as la hora norteamericana. You arrive late to just about everything and sometimes church too. As it got later, our numbers swelled and even paranoid campesino dude showed up with his two awesome daughters to participate.

Much relieved we rocked the excavation of the toma like it was going out of style. Our delivery was scheduled for 10:00 am. One thing I learned about la hora panameña is that there are few exceptions, sometimes not even church. As such we established the plan to work on the digging until such time as the materials arrived and then change our goal to the carga. I called at 9:30. Had they loaded the truck? "Hold please." So have you loaded the truck? "What's the name on the order?" The name is The Only Person Ordering 150 Lengths of Tube and Asking You to Deliver It On Time to What Most People Consider the Middle of Nowhere in the Jungle Today, is what I wanted to say, but thought better of it. I concluded the conversation by practicing my Spanish direct commands: "load the truck and bring the materials here."

Digging out the toma.

They actually made good time and at 11:30 or so paranoid campesino's daughters flagged down the truck. The muchachos were even nice enough to bring the thirteen bags of cement up to the caseta for us. I let them sweat it as I looked back across the valley at where we had to get everything, a good half a mile down to the creek and then back up, by nightfall or rainfall, which could happen a lot sooner.

A family carrying tubes.

Caballos to the rescue!

The thing you should know about campesinos is that they can work hard and carry the most ludicrously heavy bundles there are. Where I loaded up four tubes, they took ten wobbling off down the path like they were picking daisies. One strong campesino, mind you he is pushing sixty years old, took a 94-pound bag of cement on his shoulder and came back for another, mind you as well the horses are full up glistening with two bags. Strong campesino agreed to share the last one, his third trip, with a younger campesino who had been getting chided for taking a long lunch. "He's scared of the old man," strong campesino said. I contented my days heroics to not slicing my jugular as I careened down the mountain with a roll of barbed wire hopped up on my shoulder.

Teamwork gets the job done, two men share the load of a 94-pound cement bag.

Needless to say everything arrived safe and secure with amazing rapidez. We concluded strong with a plan to push forward la otra mañana, which translates "the other tomorrow" and means the day after tomorrow. As I walked back I felt a spring in my step combined with a sense of marvel at what my life has become. I thought about Brandon Valentine, my jefe who just passed away. There is a mass in Penonomé on Friday in his honor and I plan to go, but if folks want to continue working on Friday I might stay behind. Wouldn't Brandon have wanted me to be out there mixing it up on an awesome project instead of mourning? I stopped by at the few houses that had not been represented or otherwise accounted for during el día de la entrega. "Por favor. Put some clothes with better coverage on," I would have liked to say to the campesina who greeted me at the first house, but thought better of it. She has a young son and after all, the thing you should know about campo moms is you can never be too prepared to dar la teta to an infant the very millisecond it starts fussing. She gave some excuse and said her eldest son had wanted to come, but had been too scared. A problem easily solved by me passing by la otra mañana para rouse the youngster from slumber. The other houses gave me similar excuses, but I cheerfully gave my song-and-dance of the doors always being open to join the project since this is a matter of their future health and well-being.

Talk about an idyllic location to store the goods.

As I marched back home the darkness in my mind threatened to cloud up again. Should I really be inviting everyone and their scantily clad mothers to participate? What about rules and regulations? If I get the project full of apathetic people, it risks a serious future crash. How do we share the work? The directiva likes the idea of every household working the exact same number of days, but to me that is too communistic and a far-flung ideal. Where is the incentive for superstars to rise and lead in all the workdays if they want? If we were to put a minimum requirement it will give space for over-achievers to shine, under-achievers to be politely dismissed and medium-achievers to do a reasonable effort to obtain clean water, which I personally think is a right of everybody. Perhaps we will do that aka I will somehow try to talk our group into talking themselves into that.

I arrived home to puppies, which is a good pick-me-up. They aren't ours they just come visiting from time to time, which is an even better pick-me-up. I set about preparing to make macaroni and cheese, campo style. For some reason I have little money and am budgeting ninety cents a meal, with roll-over, until Friday. The thing you should know about the cost of living here is that ninety cents a meal is totally feasible, especially since I already have ketchup. Coming back up from the store, I heard a familiar voice saludando me from the rancho. My old host dad is in town. I miss his company and that of his 6 year-old son like crazy and I felt the cloud start to darken again as I thought about how much stronger our friendships could have been had his family stayed in San Juanito instead of moving to Penonomé in February of last year. A wicked accordion player, he invited me to a daytime concert this coming Sunday at the orange festival. More dark clouds as I realized I probably can't go, traveling on a Sunday is a vaina and with my dad and Gillian in town, it is not practical. I want to film a video of him playing in the daytime, a project he really wants to see to fruition too, but there always seems to be a conflict.

As I left the rancho Abuela gave me an awesome suggestion to paint the oven Lauren and I made on Saturday with ash. The house smells like a pigsty because the mud mix I used had sugar water, which is fermenting and exuding nasty smells. I hope the ash will help, otherwise I am going to have to take it down so our visitors don't throw up upon arrival.

Beginning to reflect on the day, starting this blog and the macaroni and cheese simultaneously, I felt pretty darn good with a whole lazy day ahead of me tomorrow and then more mayhem la otra mañana. Then I heard the sputter fuft of our gas tank running out. This usually happens when we have visitors so the fact that I have a whole lazy day tomorrow to: haul the tank out, begin in La Pintada because it is closer, check if they have gas, if so check to see if the ATM is working because purchasing that $5.95 refill tank with derail my careful ninety-cents-a-meal budget, if all is good, then go home with the full tank, if not, continue to hot Penonomé and try to get money and gas there. Not so lazy anymore verdad?

But, I am taking the sunny side of life. Look at it this way. The half-cooked, cheese and Doritos macaroni casserole was invented tonight. Albeit out of necessity, but isn't necessity the mother of all invention? Also, I harvested some Chaya, said a prayer to not get cyanite poisoning from it and am gonna slam it down with some ketchup, which thanks god I have already, as a tasty side dish. My entertainment shall be this blog and listening to our neighbors yell at their new puppy. To our immediate hilarity they named is Scott as a tribute to the  little dog that is on the toilet paper rolls, but the real rib-tickler is when they say it. It comes out "ES-CAUGHT." Good thing I love our neighbors dearly and a laugh at their expense is no gran cosa, may they have just as many at our expense.

One more deep reflection and then I will let you get on with your normal web-browsing. "Happiness is only real when shared" is an adage that I came to believe after I became aware of Scott McCandless's story and indeed even more so after my own time of solitude living in a van down by the river. This blog is evidence of that. Know why it's so long and involved? Because Lauren isn't here. It's not that she distracts me, well she does that too and cracks me up constantly, we share this experience on a very deep level. These are all anecdotes from the day that she would, and will when she reads this because I need her help getting photos in it, understand in perfect clarity and fluidity. I wouldn't trade any amount of marbles or gold coins or stocks for her presence in my life. Without our mixed-up Spanglish, inside joke embedded, half ADHD, constant dialogue, I would be a kettle boiling over. This life is crazy, all of it. And the happiness is real because I share it with Lauren Hayes. Love ya babe! Get home soon because my iPod is running out of battery.

Now it's off to tocar guitarra or do the dishes, but probably not, or spend a meandering half hour talking to slightly arrogant campesino dude who always comes by our house awkwardly in the dark about some sort of strange storm happening in the states, ovens and the politics of our damned carretera (this is what ends up happening by the way) or spend some time with James Michener's historical fiction called "Alaska," which is excellent and compelling by the way.

Much love,

Alex

A Merry Campo Christmas!

First off, Merry Christmas everybody! This is a time of peace and goodwill all over the world where people reflect, love and share like it were goin' outta style. ¡Qué bueno! We had the privilege to spend another campo Christmas in San Juanito with some of the best people in the world. They ain't blood family, but they are family in all kinds of other ways. A campo Christmas is a lot different than the Christmases we are used to, but if we have to be away from the comfortable norm around Christmas, we wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Here are some of Lauren and Alex's Xmas season 2013 highlights:

- The whole town was basically "en la fiesta" starting Christmas Eve afternoon through Boxing Day. Kids with fireworks, men with beers, women handing out plates of food, radios blaring full blast from all sides and everyone wearing their best dress and Christmas smiles.

- We marveled at how low the campo Christmas carbon footprint is. No planes, trains and automobiles are needed to bring distant family members together because, bueno, todos son vecinos...they're all neighbors! There were few presents and even fewer Christmas lights, but no one missed them at all.

- We broke down and splurged on some junk food such as Kraft Parmesan cheese, Bertolli Alfredo sauce in a jar, chips and salsa, Smartfood popcorn as well as some powdered and brown sugars we hope to turn into an apple crisp. All have been wonderful purchases!

- A Christmas Eve morning hike took us past a tree full of white-chested, little monkeys up in a pifa palm. When they sensed our approach they abandoned ship flailing and screeching into the jungle, but taking enough time to give us a good stare down...and us, them.

- The jungle heat seemed to be taking the day off too because Christmas was fresh and breezy with a beautiful, clear sky. You can't really wrap that up and it doesn't fit under the tree, but boy everyone sure appreciated it!

- Anacleto invited us up to his house Christmas afternoon to share a delicious meal. We talked and talked. It feels good to be thought of and cared for by someone so wise and upstanding. Our respect for Cleto grows daily!

- One of our dear campesino friends Clemente, a little bit tipsy, spent a solid fifteen minutes telling us how good-looking we are are and how strange it was that God decided to send such handsome people to San Juanito. We told him he was good-looking too and a great friend. He was waiting for his god-daughter's family to bring him el mulo de la gallina, which after great hilarity, we learned to be a cut of chicken including the breast and wing...we think.

- We dressed up and went to the "midnight mass," which has evolved here to the "8:45 pm birth of Jesus play featuring real babies!" This is an entertaining event in the great hall of the church where the youngest, within reason, baby of the town gets to be baby Jesus and the second youngest stars as Juan (John the Baptist and prophet/buen amigo of Jesus). Juan was extra big this year and it took both Isabel and Zacharius, every character is played by a child from town, to hold him up.

- All of our calls home went through and we got to talk to our families and know they were all doing great back home in the cold!

Yes indeedy, it is a different take on Christmas out here, but one we love a lot. We have done a lot of things out here that we have never done before on Christmas and will likely not do again...or maybe we will because after all, traditions are what you make them to be!

Happy Holidays,

Alex and Lauren

From the yellow bus

Happy Holidays every buddy!!!

We have been blog-slow lately...sorry about that. I have had lots of fantastic ideas for blogs, but none have come to fruition, which certainly doesn't count!

You may notice that my writing is more clear, concise, powerful and nearly grammaticalitacally correcto-mundo. This is due to my intense studying and preparation for my February 8, 2014 GRE exam! Hahaha! As Lauren and I want to hit the ground running in the states, we have to plan waaaaaaay ahead. This task is difficult for two people who typically cannot decide what have for breakfast until lunchtime has arrived. I've got my super finely tuned laser dialed on some more mathematical graduate study along the Colorado Front Range somewhere. Seems like a step back to the old me? It kind of is, but I feel the decision is very much informed by my time here as well. My theory is if one has the capacity and opportunity to study and get paid for it, the crime of not doing so is a serious one. I have also become an even firmer believer in "do what you love, love what you do" and Lauren will roll her eyes, but I love math. The ideal is continued study on large wild fire, an issue that persists nationwide back home.

Lauren wants to delve more deeply into social work be it in study or a job of some sort. Denver University has an intriguing program that incorporates internship, international study and emphasize Latinos and social work. To top it off, bless their hearts, the admissions department offers a tuition waiver to returned (or soon to be returned) Peace Corps folks. Worth a shot? Heck yes. As the new year unfolds our options are expected to clarify and we can gradually eliminate speculation and decide where to land.

Even though our conversations are peppered with talk about the future and what is coming up next for each of us, we blatantly ignore the immensity of leaving a community we have grown to love so much. Mayhaps because there are still so many activities left in San Juanito.

While December was a little bit ho-hum and slow, we relished the down days reading in la hamaca because we are anticipating a full, full calendar at least through April. San Juanito's aqueduct improvement project is at t-minus 5ish and counting. Approved by the community, then Peace Corps and most recently funding agency Waterlines the $5K worth of project funds arrived in early January. We're gonna make tanks, we're gonna work on new water sources, we're gonna work on pressure issues in the existing system and it is going to be fun, fun, fun until her daddy takes the t-bird away! The Environmental Health group has asked us if they can hold a field training in San Juanito for a newer group of volunteers in mid-February, an exciting prospect for everybody. What better way to train than on a living breathing water project?

We are not so patiently awaiting visits from Ken and Gillian as well as Vince and Kate. Lauren and I talk about it every day. Having friends and family stop by in the campo is super special for us, not to mention we get to knock around Panamá and site see a bit.

Somehow we have let far too many vacation days accumulate, a problem we hope to solve in March by setting down them machetes for a bit, lacing up the hiking boots and heading down south to Patagonia. A mountaineer's paradise, Lauren has already got her camera packed as we plan to trek around Parque Nacional Torres del Paine in Chile and Parque Nacional Los Glaciares in Argentina. Stay tuned...

Lauren's schedule is full of gender and development board stuff. She has organizational responsibilities in both the youth leadership camp and the women's artisan seminar. Folks are really tapping into her expertise as women's health and empowerment coordinator. Her goal is to prepare and polish some resources on domestic violence and women's empowerment to leave behind for future generations of volunteers to use.

How could I forget? Watch out dogs and cats of San Juanito and the surrounding communities! Spay Panamá is comin to get your testicles and uteruses! After passing the veterinary inspection, the school has been approved as the primary site and the casa communal as the secondary site for a free vet clinic sometime in early February. In terms if sustainability, it has kind of been an odd project. I think the idea of sterilization is awfully new for the community and their juries are still out. Many are convinced their dogs will die after the procedure, some can't catch their pets to get a leash on them and bring them to the school and still others don't really understand the benefits. Hopefully, the first round of pet sterilization will demonstrate the health benefits for Fido and Fida and start the tradition and attitude of pet care. By spaying and neutering 50-100 animals their will be a respite of litters and a brief period of population control, which should help turn the bark-volume down, reduce strays and make human life better too!

On the touchy-feely side of life, I have had tingling and poor feeling in my ring and index finger of my right hand for a few months...okay almost all of 2013. Under ever-so gentle persuasion from my peers I finally went to get it checked out. Four round trips to the city later the doctor finally concluded nothing is wrong. They gave me a brace and told me to go easy on the machete...hehehe! It was good to get it on my record and make sure it wasn't anything serious. Otherwise, we are in great health. Sometimes we get tired, but to combat that we usually just go to sleep.

On the touchy-feely sentimental side of life, our  friendships and connections in San Juanito get closer and more dynamic as time rolls. People open up to us more and act more normally in big groups when we are around. Not only is it nice not to be the elephant in the room for a while, we also feel honored to be accepted in this way and understand how unique our situation is. When else in life will we get to move to a random campo town and learn all there is to know about it? We often joke about how Peace Corps is ruining tourism for us personally because upon visiting new areas, especially new campos, we will wonder what lies beneath the surface. Do I see another round of Peace Corps in our future? Hmmmm...

But really...life is good. Real good. Maybe it's the big things, maybe it's the little things, but probably it's both. So if you haven't come visited us yet, grab your bags, leave your coat and GET HERE because this offer is running out!

Stay classy people,

Alex

6 roles of the voluntario...

The last little while I have been coming to a realization, breaking down yet another misconception. I imagined my Peace Corps service would be about helping others. I like to volunteer my time and I figured going abroad to serve could only be a notch up. In my personal experience, this has not necessarily been the case. On the contrary, Peace Corps service is helping me.

There are a handful of cases where I felt I have been a conveyer of information or a teacher. Those moments are kind of like a flash and typically don't come where I expect them. For instance, of all the giant water seminar topics we presented in San Juanito, I feel like the only real teaching moment I had was a tiny little sentence that described a way of electing a water leadership group with a secret ballot. It was the tiniest thing, but seemed to rock folks' worlds. Granted they didn't end up implementing any of the advice whatsoever, I still felt as though it was an "ah-ha" for many. Certain topics and certain auduences as well tend to seem more prone to these "ah-ha" moments. For instance, I've never seen such attentive listeners as when we did condom "how-to" demonstrations in Piedras Gordas and Vallecito. In fact, we are often rocking the boat when we touch on sexual health topics. But in reality, over my year and change in country I haven't been the revolutionary teacher I thought I might be.

So if we aren't playing a teaching role with daily revelations for all, what are we? In the Peace Corps jargon we play 6 roles as volunteers in development: mentor, co-facilitator, change agent, project co-planner, trainer and learner. That's training jargon for you, I'm going to let you know a little bit about my experience with each one.

Mentor. Mentoring is a hard one to nail down when you aren't straddling cultures. Are you teaching? Guiding? Suggesting? To what extent? That stereotypical, "gee-Beav didntja ever think not to play ball near Old Man River's garage window" mentoring feeling is not really realistic here due to my frequent language stumbles and flubs. Today, I was trying to instill the value of hard work in some young whipper-snapper (a.k.a. I wanted help carrying some stuff) and asked him to poop the bucket instead of carry it. Dang "cargar" and "cagar" being so close. Fortunately,  to me mentoring has the flavors of teaching, listening and just plain hanging out. It seems most effective down an age gradient (older to younger) simply because experience accumulates over time. Getting that sort of mentoring feeling is not tough. Just being a good role model goes a long way. We listen way more than we talk for sure. And hanging out is the prescription for the day's activities just about every single day. I am a mentor when kids come to the library at our house because it pushes them to read and talk to me about books.

Co-facilitator. I see facilitating like teaching, but scored like golf. You try at all costs to avoid taking direct credit for someone learning something. The better you are at getting a group to teach themselves, the better facilitator you make. I believe in most of the little seminars and workshops we undertake, I play the role of facilitator. The "co" comes from the ever-elusive dream of working shoulder to shoulder with host country organizations to facilitate things. Panamanian agencies, in my personal struggle, have been tough nuts to crack and I have not yet had the pleasure of being a "co" with a Panamanian. I have been a "co" with fellow volunteers, which is both awesome and amazing. Lauren and I have been each others' "co" until we are blue in the face. I was a co-facilitator during the San Juanito water seminar because we studied a model aqueduct together to figure out the three laws of water flow and what happens when there is a hole in the line.

Change agent. We are told a change agent is like a catalyst or a kick in the pants. Someone who is looking to change a behavior may just have one tiny  barrier left and a change agent empowers them to just do it (TM). I give the person being changed just as much credit, if not more, than the agent because he or she has done so much work to get ready for that last baby step. I do not know how to wake up in the morning, say, "today I am going to be a change agent," get out there and do it. I do know being present (the literal definition of "in attendance") is a key ingredient to doing it. I also believe trying to be a change agent is enormously frustrating because no one can read minds. But, once you realize you were one on a lucky occasion you A of all, know it for sure and you B of all, claim it was the easiest thing in the world. If I have been a change agent, I haven't realized it yet, but trust me I have tried ultra hard. Lauren was a change agent when she and fellow volunteer Kelly spent less than a half-an-hour showing our friend Cleto how to use the agriculture leveling tool known as the Nivel A. We returned some days later and he had leveled and terraced his entire hillside, which is a gargantuan amount of work. Cleto had been waiting with his finger on the trigger to do something to improve his production for probably his entire working life. Lauren and Kelly barely broke a sweat and changed his working habits and thus his life.

Project co-planner. This is self explanatory. In Peace Corps we sometimes do projects and plan them to make them good. We strive to be "co" with community members or groups and in many cases flat-out refuse to work otherwise. I can imagine how irritating it would be to have someone roll into Fort Collins and say, "so...you all are eating with forks and spoons and that's pretty good. But, you've just gotta change over to the spork. Don't worry! I'll be here for two years to help you make the transition. I live off Drake and Shields if you've got any questions or anything." I'd tell that person to take their sporks and put them...well...elsewhere. I am a project co-planner with Señores Serafin and Boliver as we work towards a better potable water system in the Santa Cruz sector of San Juanito.

Trainer. A word closely associated with trainer for me is reps. A trainer helps one practice a skill so that it becomes as easy for you as it is for the trainer. You then exist on the same level in that skill as the trainer and as such can be the trainer for others. This is something I aspire to do in my remaing time here in Panamá. I feel ferrocement (steel reinforced concrete) is a hugely useful skill out here and I intend to offer training on it (as training was offered to me) in hopes that others will be able to feel the power of making thin, strong cement objects cheaply and let their imaginations run wild for applications.

Learner. Exactly. This is what I feel I am constantly, more than any of the other roles or the combination of them all. I've learned more than a class more than reading a book more than an entire degree. From knowing how to organize and motivate people to names of obscure plants to hand washing clothes in a river to making hand tools do the work of power tools to whatever other madness I have participated in I feel like during the rest of my life I am going to surprise myself with some bizarre skill and try to remember where I learned it. The answer will likely be Panamá.

So there you go. The roles I play in the official jargon and in practice. Keep it crazy people!

Until next time,

Alex

Aimee comes to Panamà!

In September, I had the opportunity to visit Lauren and Alex (I’m going to refer to them as Lalex) at their new home in Panama. What an experience I had! I give them mad props for what they are doing and how they have adapted so well to the Panamanian lifestyle. I am so grateful that I was able to get a peek at what they do/ have been doing for the past year and a half. 

Right after meeting up with Lauren, it was like we were back in college again, talking about the meaning of life and catching up on the past year and a half. Underneath this new Spanish speaking, program creating, independent jungle woman, I found my best friend that I met 6 years ago. We talked the whole 2 hour bus ride to Penenome ignoring the stares from the local people when we broke in to an uncontrollable laughter. I got to meet Lalex’s old host family from their first few months in Panama. Such loving and caring people who think the world of them. 

Lauren and I spoke to each other in Spanish! This was an incredible experience for me; to be able to speak in another language to someone that you have only ever spoken English to. 

After Lauren showed me a bit of the city of Penenome, we hopped on a “bus” (and hopped is an ambitious word...more like we waited 45 minutes on the street then waited another 30 minutes in the van) to their little jungle village of San Juanito! We made the trek to the mud hut! I got to meet sweet little Goma and Lauren gave me a tour and then we visited with the abuelos for a while. It was really amazing to see Lauren speak Spanish so easily and naturally with these people. She is going to come out of Panama speaking perfect “campasino” (farmer) Spanish. We went to sleep shortly after the sun but our sleep was soon interrupted by the pack of dogs fighting on the doorstep. Poor little Carmencita was in heat and she had many eager suitors. This is one occasion where Lalex’s kind heartedness came back to bite them. Carmencita likes to hang out around them because they are the only ones in town who don’t hit her and occasionally give her scraps of food to nourish her skinny body. So she wandered over to the mud hut in the middle of the night and brought all the noise with her. This went on all night! Growling, fighting, howling. Lauren had to get up multiple times to try and get them to go away but it just wasn’t happening. 

Alex got back the next day from the city and we all walked down to the river together to do laundry! I couldn’t believe that this is how they get laundry done! It is pretty amazing. Although I do have to admit that although it is a bit of a trek to do laundry and who knows how “clean the clothes really get, it sure is a nice view and an incredibly beautiful and tranquil place. After this we relaxed in the hut for a bit and I got to see just how popular Lalex’s library business is with the local children. They love it! There were kids coming by all afternoon to get more books! What a great program that they started, just out of the goodness of their hearts. Lauren and I hiked across town to a local farmer’s house to visit and deliver seeds. This is a farmer that Lauren works with and has educated about sustainable farming techniques. It was great to see how he relied on her and really enjoyed working with her. After this we went for a much needed dip in the river and returned to the house where Alex had made a delicious meal of rice and sausage! The dogs were at it again all night but this time we had Alex to try to handle them. I’ve never heard him sound so scary!! However it is pretty incredible the amount of noise that a group of about 9…eager…male dogs can make. Poor Carmencita.

The next day I got to see the beautiful local school that Lalex have worked with. They do lunch at school with chickens that are raised just a few yards away. There is a beautiful garden full of vegetables and even a small pond where they are raising fish! I was so impressed. 

The next day we left San Juanito (and the pack of dogs followed us all the way out of town which is about a 45 minute hike…). We made the journey to the Comarca Ngobe Bugle an indigenous community in Panama and stayed with a friend of Alex’s who lived with his mother. Alex’s friend Ruben surprisingly is very passionate about rock climbing and hiking and hopes to be able to make a living from it someday. This is another good hearted pursuit that Lalex are trying to do. They are trying to get Ruben’s name out there into the climbing community in the US and hopefully get some donated equipment sent to him. Alex has written letters to climbing magazines in hopes of getting an article about Ruben published. The next day, Ruben led us on a beautiful hike. It was long, (and I was incredibly out of shape for hiking as Lauren can attest to after witnessing my 5 or more falls on the way down), but it was full of beautiful views nonetheless. After staying 3 nights at Ruben’s house, we headed on our way to a very touristy yet beautiful part of Panama called Boquete.

It was a weird feeling going from dirt floors and bucket showers to a completely beautiful and luxurious bed and breakfast located on the top of a hill on a coffee farm. We took advantage of all the amenities like hot water, water pressure, delicious coffee, and restaurants with pizza and beer! We had no problem indulging like the good Americans that we are. The next day Lauren and I toured a beautiful coffee farm and learned a bit about all that goes into enjoying a hot cup of coffee. 

We thoroughly enjoyed our time at the Mañana Madera Estate ( and would HIGHLY recommend it to anyone planning on visiting Panama). We headed back to Penenome and stayed the night and I was off to the airport the next morning!

This really was an incredible experience for me and I am beyond words proud of Lauren and Alex for what they are doing. San Juanito is incredibly lucky to have them and it couldn’t be a more perfect match. They are making such a huge impact and are going above and beyond what is asked of them just because they are good, ambitious, kind hearted people that I am proud and honored to call my friends. 

Gracias a Lorena y Alejandro por la experencia y que sigan haciendo que están haciendo. El pueblo de San Juanito les va a extrañar cuando ustedes salgan pero sus amigos y familia en su hogar no pueden esperar hasta que regresan. Les amo mucho y estoy tan orgullosa de ustedes. (DEMASIADO BENADO!!) 

Matt and Heather speak!

A blog post from our friends Matt and Heather who came to visit us for 10 days. Enjoy!

Getting ready for our trip to Panama, we had a mixture of excitement, comfort and uneasiness. We were excited of course because were going to have a 10-day break from work and we got to travel and see our friends we missed so much. Not to mention the place we got to visit them just so happened to be a country blanketed in rainforest. It’s always hard not being around close friends like Alex and Lauren for long periods of time and so we just couldn't wait to see them and get the chance to experience their Panamanian lifestyle (there’s a good spoof on a Cake song in there somewhere). Since we had just recently taken a trip to Costa Rica for our honeymoon, we felt comforted by the fact that we thought we knew what to expect. We had already had to live in a hut with no electricity or amenities, and we knew we could survive on our limited Spanish. The uneasiness stemmed from the natural nervousness you get when you are traveling somewhere foreign. There are always things that can go wrong, and those possibilities increase when you leave the country.

For the most part though the nerves only lasted until we had made or 3am bus to the airport and we got through airport security and made it to our gate. From there on we didn't have bags to worry about or missing a flight as we had lots of time in our layover. Plus we knew there wasn't much to worry about once we made it to Panama since Alex and Lauren are considered diplomats at the airport and would meet us at the gate. Then we would be in their hands and we wouldn't have to worry about anything. The one thing we learned however about Panama, is that it always keeps you on your toes and you will find yourself being surprised countless times. The surprises weren't always bad, they weren't always good, but they definitely made for some good stories and we would like to share a few of them.


The Weather in Santa Catalina

Matt says "The first thing we did in Panama was to go to this cool little surf town called Santa Catalina. When we arrived by bus we went straight to a scuba dive company and booked a trip out to Coiba Island to go scuba dive the next day. She was a very enthusiastic woman who got our hopes up to see some really cool fish, including possibly seeing a whale shark that has been spotted in the area recently. Full of excitement we then went to find a place to stay for the night, which required walking down one of the two roads in the town and stopping in a few places until we found what we liked. The first one we looked at was pretty neat with little bungalows and an ocean front view. Heather and I thought they looked really cool but Lauren and Alex were not impressed saying, “Don’t worry, you’ll basically be living like this back in San Juanito for the rest of the trip” and so we said no and continued on our search. We ended up deciding on a place that had air conditioning, comfortable beds and wifi (also with an ocean view) that felt like a cross between an American hotel and somebody’s house. After dinner was when our first Panamanian surprise hit us. We were back at the hotel, and we had decided to just relax for the evening, take some showers and Heather and I read the books we brought with us while Alex and Lauren surfed the web to catch up on the latest world news or check emails/facebook. When Alex (being the last to go) was about to go take his shower the lights flickered and then eventually went out. We all kind of chuckled and Alex decided to go take his shower anyway in the dark. His shower was very brief however because it turns out there was no water either. Alex and Lauren explained to us this is what they call being Panamanian’d, which simply meant things never go as planned in this country. Heather and I laughed at the situation, not really fully understanding how precious simple things like a hot shower, electricity and A/C meant when you are used to living in San Juanito (we’ll talk more about that later). Apparently the thunderstorm that night knocked out the power to the whole city. It was out for only and hour or so, thankfully, and during the interim we were able to sit out on the porch and look at the dark night sky which was full of stars.

The next morning we woke up early to gray skies and rain, leaving us wondering whether or not we would still be going scuba diving that day. After breakfast we headed down to the dive center where we were advised that today would not be the best of days to go diving since it was an hour and a half boat ride to the dive site and the waters would be really choppy. We all decided we would wait until the next day, with the hopes that the weather would get better. This turned out to be a great decision because we were still able to go play in the ocean and the next day turned out to be a gorgeous sunny day without a cloud in sight. We had a fantastic adventure out in the ocean scuba diving where we saw schools of beautiful fish, sharks and a HUGE sea turtle! Unfortunately we saw no eels (they must have been tired from recharging during the thunderstorm the previous day – A good Abuela-ism you all should ask Alex and Lauren about). We were very thankful that Panama decided to alter our plans; it made for a great trip out to the little surf town."


San Juanito living

Matt says, "We weren’t sure what to expect when we arrived in San Juanito. We both had our own visions of what it would be like in our heads, but they never quite match the real thing. We knew we would be living in a mud hut. We new there would be a lot of farmland around, though the word farm in Panama is drastically different than the typical corn and hay fields you find in Colorado and we knew we would be living in close proximity to a lot of bugs (Heather was really excited about that part). What really surprised us was how hard, and yet calm life was in the campo. Most mornings we would get up early and make breakfast and then do the dishes before heading out to work. The work would be anything from digging out a rice tank (more later) or hiking in/out sand and concrete that would be used to make a clay stove or just simply hiking around to talk to someone in the town to help plan an event coming up. After working during the hot and humid day we would usually come home and shower. As Alex and Lauren have mentioned before, the shower is an outdoor shower, which was always cold. On a hot day the cold water was welcome but it was still always hard to initially step into. It was also pretty weird being able to see into the Abuelo’s “living room” while you were soaping up. Even though we seemed to work hard during the day and feel exhausted by the time we got home to make supper, Heather and I agreed that we have never felt so well rested. This partially might have to do with going to bed when the sun went down and not staying up until all hours of the night, but it was also due to not being so plugged in to the rest of the world. Without our calendars and busy schedules or our phones with constant news or sports updates to constantly check in on, I think our brains were at ease. They were able to just think about the day or maybe the next one to come. We weren’t constantly visually stimulated by computer screens or iPhones. This is something I strive to incorporate in my life back home and it’s something we should all try and do. Heather says,"Yet as soon as we got back to America, the Panamanian lifestyle slipped out of grasp. Almost immediately we returned to emails, texts, phone calls, over-booked weekends, and in generally hurrying everywhere. Just look how long it took to write this blog. While we both talked about “putting a little Panama in your day” it is so much harder to do than we thought, we were both surprised in fact how immediately the Panamanian lifestyle vanished.

Another surprising thing about life in San Juanito was how enthusiastic the kids there were to read. I swear they must have just sat around waiting all day for us to get home because it felt like every time we got home, the kids swarmed. Do they stake lookouts and signal the village? How do they do it? Every kid in San Juanito is shy, and incredibly polite. Several of the little boys preferred a handshake on arrival, and wouldn’t turn their books in until they greeted every one by handshake. The kids were so cute and patient, they waited their turn to turn in their books, have their homework reviewed, and pick out new books. One day both Alex and Lauren were gone, but the library had to stay open of course! I received their books and checked them in with my broken Spanish and they never batted an eye. I could read the younger kids’ homework, but Matt had to take care of some of the more complex ones. My favorite was counting with them from uno to diez to see if they got a prize for turning in ten homeworks! While we were out helping build a stove we even saw a mom (Maria) eagerly reading the books and wearing the hair clip her daughter had picked out from the prizes earlier that day! The library is such a huge success that the new books we brought were in the hands of the first five eager kids to arrive and got picked out every time they came back. I’m pretty sure there are kids that have read every book in that satchel!"

Peace Corps

Heather says, "On their wall, Alex and Lauren have the goals of Peace Corps. We were shocked to learn that two of the three goals involve getting Panamanians and Americans to know each other better. I don't know what I expected but it wasn't that, that means visitors are important to fulfilling their goal. All of a sudden I really wished I spoke Spanish. The more you think the more it makes sense because people who understand each other don't tend to fight each other. We were pleased that our presence as well as our labor would be used to promote peace. Another surprise? How hard it was to dig a rice tank and how out of shape we were compared to a sixty year old local. Not only were we drenched with sweat, but I found a need to stop more often than I thought Clemente did. I was really thankful for my big Panamanian working hat (thank you Abuelo!) in that hot bright sun. A whole day of digging passed and the progress was stunning and disheartening simultaneously. You could see the immediate impact but there were clearly plenty of man-hours left in constructing the tank. For those of you who don't know what a rice tank is, you should Google it. It doesn't seem like much until you dig one by hand. Another shock. All of this came with great surprises. Wherever we worked or visited we were fed fresh squeezed juice, delicious lunches, and coffee juice (coffee with lots of sugar). The people were so curious about us, so eager to pitch in, and genuine. Yet for being eager we would sit and wait to start a project while they made coffee juice and just... sat. It was a strange contradiction that these hyperactive Americans had a hard time adjusting to. In a week we saw so much progress. One stove built and one rice tank started but there was so much to do. The patience Alex and Lauren have to build these working relationships but wait for the locals to take action is incredible. Who knew two people could make such a huge difference in the world?"

Matt and Heather both say,"Holy cow we had a lot to say! If this all makes it into the blog, well, sorry it’s so long. Turns out when you wait a month and a half to write you think of a lot more things to say! In conclusion, we are thankful our puppy has no functioning baby-making parts and she’s clean and pettable. We are thankful our food is cricket-free (still one of the funniest things that happened, don’t apologize!). But we loved Panama to the bone and found ourselves (Heather) crying when we left Alex at the bus station. Thanks for a great trip guys, keep up the good work, you make us proud!"