Peace Corps: How far will you go.....for a good meal?

Regional meetings happen every 4 months in Peace Corps Panama. This is when the Country Director and Peace Corps staff come out to every region in Panama and meet with all the volunteers from that area, mine being the Comarca Ngabe Bugle.  We go over office news, volunteer council, gender and development updates, upcoming events, and share and encourage each other on our work.  I generally look forward to these meetings. It’s nice to stay on the same page as the office and see all the volunteers from my region.  Plus after the meeting all the volunteers go to the beach for some good ol’ R&R.  Great thing about Peace Corps Panama, you are never too far away from a beach. 

A few weeks ago it was our regional leader, Erin Kelley’s, last meeting. Erin is a 3^rd-year extension volunteer, and to call her a legend around these parts would be an understatement. We wanted to make her last regional meeting unforgettable.  And as my friend Jack said, “We decided to go big, and go pig.”

1.The Pig: A volunteer from the Comarca, Jason, was bringing one down from his site, which is a strenuous 2-hour hike through the mountains. If that wasn’t enough of a challenge, this 70-pound “Babe” made multiple escape attempts, forcing Jason to slosh through the muddy jungle of the Comarca at 3am on a wild pig hunt.  Thaaaaanks Jason….

2. The Fire: After much research done by Erin, we discovered the best and most time efficient way to have this pig roast was the method which follows:  Dig a ditch about 3 feet down, build up a fire in the ditch to get at least a foot of hot embers, throw the butchered and wrapped up pig in, bury it and put a bonfire on top.  After about 10 hours we could dig it up and eat.  This sounded pretty sketchy to me.  Eating something that was buried under the ground for 10 hours? I thought I was only supposed to do that with vegetables and I’m pretty sure vegetables can’t give me salmonella or trichinosis.  But I was assured by Kevin and Josh, our pig killing and roasting specialists, that this was proper pig roast form in the states.

With about 20 of us helping, the hole was dug in no time.  That was the easy part. Next came the fire. We’re all resourceful, girl/boy scout peace corps volunteers. We figured it would be easy-peasy. But starting a fire in a ditch with water-logged firewood was harder than expected. And once more rain came we had to put up a tarp over the area to keep it going. It took us hours of taking turns crawling into the smoke filled ditch and ventilating it with a cutting board to finally get a continuous flame. As my friend gasped for breath and crawled out of the hole, he said, “well, now I know how awful it is to be inside a burning building.”

By this time it was about 3am, and we had a meeting the next morning. And we really only had a few inches of embers. So we took fire shifts switching out people to watch the fire and keep feeding it more wood.  By the next morning we all reeked of smoke and had red eyes with bags under them from little sleep and smoke damage. Needless to say, we made an excellent impression on the Peace Corps Staff.

3. The massacre: Once morning rolled around. It was time for the Pig to killed. Unfortunately I do not have as many details about that because I chose to stay far away from that. However, while looking for my ipod, I accidentally turned the corner and stumbled upon the scene of the crime as they were gutting it out and the pig was still spasming. Somehow or another, the pig was cut open, cleaned, stuffed with carrots, onions, and spices, wrapped up in banana leaves and foil, and started roasting in that pit. 

4. The Resurrection: After waiting 11 hours, going to and from our meeting and getting in some quality beach time, we dug up the pig, and with that unleashing the mouthwatering aroma of roasted pig. Sadly, the pig still ended up being 10 degrees under the temperature it should have been. So instead of being responsible for giving food poisoning to about 30-something peace corps volunteers, we pulled all the meat off that pig and fried it up with some oil in a big pot over a bonfire.

Finally, it was time to eat. Now, I know it was like 10pm and I hadn’t eaten much that day, waiting for the delicious roast, but that was absolutely the best roasted-pig meals I have ever had in my entire life. A big thank you to all the Peace Corps Volunteers who made this pig roast a success!  

"Sizzling like bacon" in the hole

The hole with a foot of embers and a rock covering

                 The Pooooooooor Pigggy                                                         Buena Gente

It’s official. The latrine project is finally finished. After 3 separate Inauguration celebrations, complete with monstrous meals of rice and chicken, I can finally throw away my cement crusted, holey, work jeans. I should have no use for them now, besides my community was starting to call me “cochino” for wearing them (literally meaning swine, but mostly used for calling something dirty, filthy, gross). After we finished throwing the 56 cement platforms that were included in the project, it was each family’s responsibility to use the zinc, given to them from the project, for the roofs and whatever they wanted for the walls.  I was so proud to see people putting in such extraordinary effort while making the housing structures with unusual detail.  Since they have built all the latrines themselves, they have more respect for them and a desire to keep them nice and clean.

My favorite latrine made was at the school in my community. The old one we had here was built 15 years ago, was full, and well…cochino. All the men from the school PTA (yes, we have a PTA) got together and built the latrine basically without any help from me. They even painted some old zinc to use for the walls to make it look brand new. 

The project really felt finished after the inauguration meetings took place. There were basically just big warm and fuzzy meetings where everyone thanked everyone else for all their hard work and successes. I can’t remember a moment where I felt more respected by some many people before. It was a nice way to end a long planned out project.

Now that I’ve been in Panama for 21 months, I find myself thinking about home more and more, despite the endless plans my community has been scheming to keep me here for another year.  What will I miss? What won’t I miss?  I might not miss going into the bushes to find a place to pee while walking through my community….and finding a giant Equis snake 3 feet away from me. Butttt…I may miss lying on my hammock, in front of my house, watching the sunset fall below the banana trees as my neighbor brings me over some freshly cooked squirrel she caught earlier that day. (Both of these experiences happened yesterday)

Either way, I have about 5 months left to enjoy the things I’ll miss, and bear the things that I won’t.  Even though my main projects are over I have a few smaller projects to work on to keep my busy until I leave. Very soon I will be helping at another youth camp, planning some HIV/AIDS awareness seminars for adults in my community, and continuing to work with the water groups. More posts to come about all those things.

Thanks again for reading!

Lots of love,

Kayla (Meliti)

The Latrine Dream

I’m sure by now you’ve thought I’ve either  fallen off a large cliff, been bitten by a snake, caught in some machete fight, or maybe just that I’ve given up on blogging.  Well good news! I am alive and well and back to blogging.  Since Christmas, I have been insanely busy with various projects and protest situations throughout Panama so I have had limited free computer time.  But I would love to share with you what has kept me from writing earlier on.

As much as I would like to go on in detail about the mining and hydroelectric situation that is currently taking over the Panamanian politics, Peace Corps Panama does not allow us to express our opinions on this subject for safety reasons.  We must stay neutral.  Because of this I will not explain the confrontations between the government of Panama and the indigenous, as it would be impossible for me to do so without conveying my opinion.  Google it if you are interested.

Besides the protests, my last few months can be summed up with latrine work. After months of organizing people, planning the project, looking for funding (thanks to you all), we have finally started.  First I visited all the houses in the project to check if they hauled all their 9, 5-gallon buckets of gravel from the river and to see if their holes were dug to the appropriate width and length, 1 meter wide and about 3 meters deep.  Some went above and beyond and dug 4 or 4 and a half meters, leaving me baffled at how a man in his 60s could do such a thing by himself.

After these checks, 56 families were left in the project, willing and able to work. The first day of hauling materials consisted of:  A 100 pound bag of cement, a few pounds of nails, 2 extremely long rebar sticks, some wire, and a ridiculously heavy latrine seat made out of cement for each family.  My hike is about an hour and a half without heavy cargo, so you can imagine how long this would take.  However, the strength of the Ngabes never ceases to amaze me.  Older woman were there to pick up these materials and were taking turns hauling it in on their backs.  Once all these materials were brought in, including some shovels, floats, hacksaws, etc. We were able to start making the cement platforms. I did 5 example latrine platforms in each of the 5 sectors, where every participant was required to come and learn the process.  After these 5 days were completed we formed work groups and were able to complete about 4 latrine platforms a day; on my best/most exhausting day, we made 7.  It has been amazing to see how fast some of the community members have learned how to make them and have taken ownership of the whole project.  At the beginning almost no one had seen cement be mixed before or knew how to assemble the latrine platform. But just after a few practices I no longer had to explain or ask people to do things. I am becoming more and more useless every day …which is exactly what I wanted.

Currently we have 46 cement platforms made with 10 more to go. Yesterday we hauled in our shipment of zinc for the roofs so we could start making the houses for the latrines.  Like I said, I have been extremely happy with how things are going.  Because the people are actually building the latrines themselves, instead of some outside construction company, they are invested in the project and proud of their work. This ensures that they will be more likely to take care of the latrine in the future so it will last for many years.

Once again, I would love to thank everyone for supporting me here and in this project. I couldn’t have done it without you all and your generosity.  Check out the pictures on Facebook.

Much love

Kayla

Oh, and if you missed out on donating to my project and would like the opportunity to make a tax deductible donation to another worthy peace corps project in Panama, check out this link below.  By donating to this project you will be helping provide running water to 26 families in a rural campesino village in Panama. Thanks

 https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=525-172

I saw my neighbor naked…

I saw my neighbor naked…

It was only a matter of time.  There is literally no privacy in the Comarca.  Giant families live all together in one tiny little room, which is generally see-through due to the bamboo walls.  I still don’t know how they changed their clothes when I lived in host families, as well as where and when they went the bathroom.   It’s all a mystery to me.  Anyway, I currently live in Markela’s backyard.  Other volunteers consider me to still be living with a host family, seeing as I live so close to them and how much food they give me.  Markela is a wonderful woman.  Although she is extremely shy and did not talk to me during my first month in site, this middle aged, illiterate woman (who, I might add, wears a floral fedora hat on occasion) has become my closest friend.  I still can’t believe how much I can talk with a woman who has barely stepped foot outside the Comarca.  I am extremely grateful for her.

Since I live right behind Markela and her family, we share the same latrine and bathing area.  I bathe in this spring right behind my house.  They jammed a cut open stick of bamboo in the spring and water runs down in and then falls off the edge…creating a somewhat natural shower.  Some days I love this.  Bathing openly in the great outdoors with birds singing while watching the sun go down, I feel like I’m in an herbal essences shampoo commercial.  Other days, it’s a cold mosquito infested creek.  It depends on my mood.  However, the bathing area is not so private.  There is a trail right above it, which looks directly down onto the spring.  So I generally bathe in my designated bathing clothes, other women tend to bathe right in their Naguas.  The other day I was on my way back home from a long day of meetings in the upper part of my community.  I decided to take the back trail, which looks right down onto the bathing area.  While passing by it, I saw Markela.  Just as I was about to wave, I saw that she was not wearing her Nagua…but instead her birthday suit.  I immediately turned away, pretending I hadn’t seen anything, hoping she did not notice either.  I got to my house, plopped into my hammock and started to read.  Minutes later, Markela passed by my house in her wet Nagua.  If she did see me pass by, I of course just expected us to not talk about it and simply pretend like it never happened, especially in this shy community where they never talk about inappropriate things and are extremely passive.  Instead of going straight to her house, she paused, looked at me, and said, “Like what you saw?” Then burst out into laughter and walked back to her house.  It was hilarious. I’m pretty sure I laughed the rest of the day.  I’m so glad I’ve finally gotten on a comfortable level here…..maybe too comfortable.

I’m also writing about Markela because this last week was Mother’s Day in Panama.  Although in absolutely no way can she compare to my real mother, she has become some sort of a temporary mother to me.  Mother’s Day is a pretty big deal in Panama.  Unfortunately, in these areas, Mother’s Day is just an excuse for men to get really drunk and at the end of the day need their wives and moms to take care of them.  It’s pretty sad, actually.  So, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to it.

 A while back at a Cooperative store meeting the board mentioned they wanted to do something for this event.  I thought it was a great idea and said I would participate, although I didn’t expect much of it. 

But they went allllll out.  There were poems and songs, gifts, prizes, and raffles, candy and tons of food.  They elected a queen of the mothers, and at one point, they lined all moms up to receive kisses on the cheek from everyone else.  I, per usual, was persuaded into getting up in front of everyone and making a speech…..they like it when the white girl talks. I even got roped into singing a few songs.  My gift to all the mothers was making popcorn for them and handing them out in little bags with notes attached to it. It was great. They never saw popcorn before and it is a crazy concept to them that corn, which they know so well from growing, can do such a thing.  All in all, the day was a success.  I left with an uncomfortably full stomach and a smile on my face while watching Markela laugh the hardest I’ve seen her since I’ve been here. 

Much Love,

Kayla (meliti)

IT´S GO TIME!

Dear friends and family,

First, I want to thank you all for following and supporting me during my Peace Corps service.  The past year has been a crazy, wonderful, and at times, a difficult adventure.  I am so happy to be here and serving my country in a way I see important. So thanks again for thinking of me while I am abroad. 

After many months of evaluating the sanitation of my community, encouraging the use of latrines, organizing into groups and latrine leaders, teaching about the construction and health benefits of latrines, and creating a calendar of work, it is finally time to start building. It's go time!     

All that’s lacking now is funding. I am striving to help these 90 families in my community to build 70 latrines in the next year. In order to do so, I need to raise over $ 4,300 for this project. If I succeed in raising over half of that, an organization called Synergy will donate the rest. So, I am asking for your help in raising over $2,000 to complete this project.                                                                                                                                                                                     

The health benefits of latrines are exponential. With a proper place to use the bathroom, the water my community drinks will be uncontaminated, and the high percentage of diseases in my community will decrease. 

This will raise the standard of living for everyone in Cerro Banco and decrease the child mortality rate. My hope is to see my adorable host sister, Heligi, age 4, healthy for once in her life and her distended stomach, full of worms, healed. 

 If you are interested in donating, please check out this website.

https://www.peacecorps.gov/index.cfm?shell=donate.contribute.projDetail&projdesc=525-167

Thank you so much for your help and kindness.

Much love to all,

Kayla

Project, Management, Leadership Conference (PML)

Each volunteer in my group was allowed to bring one or two people from their community to participate in this conference, located in the Coclé province of Panama. I chose two community counterparts to attend the conference with me; one of them had never travelled farther than the closest town outside Cerro Banco.  They were both really excited for the seminar, and naturally, the free food, lodging, and transportation. 

Our trip started off a little shaky. Once we finally reached the main highway, we were surprised to see crowds of Ngabes.  Apparently, there was a protest scheduled for this day, and we had unfortunately fallen right into it.  Usually San Felix is a very quiet, low-key town, located right off the InterAmericana.  But today we were pushing through people and smoke only to find the highway jammed with cars, buses, and trucks trying to pass through the rock barricade and protestors.  All of a sudden, there was a stampede of people running up the street.  Not moving and still confused, I was grabbed by my friend Laura who pulled me up the street.  Then my eyes and throat began to burn. The police, who were trying to control the situation and open the highway, had thrown tear gas bombs and the poison rapidly spread throughout the whole area.  Thankfully, I was not very close to the police, but my poor counterparts were right next to the tear gas bombs.  The effect for me wore off in just a few hours, but Faustino’s eyes were blood red all day.  A bit later, the highway opened up and we were able to catch a bus going east. 

Once we arrived at the conference, the excitement of the morning had died down.  It was so nice to see all the other volunteers from my group again and meet counterparts from their community.  It was kind of a bizarre feeling to be there with all my friends, wanting to speak English and be normal Kayla.  However to my community, I am Meliti, speak Spanish and Ngabere, and wear Naguas.  But it was a cool way to combine both parts of me in Panama and after a while it felt completely normal.  The volunteers and I did our best to include our counterparts with small talk and mostly speak Spanish. 

The conference started the next morning. We worked in small mixed groups with volunteers and counterparts from all over the country.  This alone was great.  People from different cultures, which they’ve never seen, were able to interact with each other all week.  This opened our counterparts’ eyes to different customs and friendships.  We even got to share special arts and talents from our area of the country during our “culture night.”  My counterparts and I performed the Heggi, the traditional Ngabe dance, with a few other volunteers from the Comarca Ngabe Bugle.  It was a hit.

Each day of PML consisted of sessions with topics including: how to realize and prioritize your goals and values; how to manage your resources, including time, money, and information; and how to plan a successful meeting.  Although these sessions were common sense to the volunteers, being college graduates and such, these concepts were a completely new idea to our counterparts.  And since my two adult counterparts only have 6^th grade educations, just sitting in a classroom for a full day is exhausting.  However, it was beautiful to see their eyes open wider when they fully grasped a concept and saw how it could help in their own life. The idea is for counterparts to bring everything they learned back to their own community and share these ideas with everyone else.  I was happy to see each of my counterparts enjoy the conference. Since then, they have asked me if we can hold a seminar like this on a smaller scale in Cerro Banco for more people in the community.  I am of course very excited to work on this in the future.

In my opinion, the PML conference is one of the best things Peace Corps Panama offers.  The lessons taught at this conference are extremely important life skills and it really offers a sustainable way to improve the lives of many around the country.  Additionally it gives people an opportunity to branch out of their small community, which gives them a vision of other lives around the country…and including the volunteers, around the world.

Check it out!

Here is a sweet video my good friend Will made after visiting me in my Peace Corps site.  The beginning shots are his travels from Colombia to Panama through the San Blas....then on to my community! http://willrl.com/2011/08/san-blas-y-mas-video-post-7/

Thanks again Will, Karl, and Daniella!

Health?

I believe there to be two types of Peace Corps volunteers: ones that get sick and ones that don’t.  Some volunteers are doomed with the monthly bouts of infections and are on a first name basis with all the nurses in the clinic.  Then there are others who don’t even know where the nearest hospital is or claim to be the healthiest they’ve ever been.  It might depend on the person’s immune system or more so on their living situation, but either way, some are cursed and some aren’t.  I unfortunately have had many memorable trips to the hospital.  So far my dreaded hospital trips have included giardia, skin infections, amoebas, parasites, a bacterial infection, and early signs of pneumonia.  Thankfully Peace Corps has the greatest health care ever…almost too good, and the doctors all know it.  I could walk in the clinic with just a minor headache and come out on a wheel chair carrying every type of medicine possible.  They have no hesitation in making you stay overnight, even when it’s not necessary and seems to be a waste of Peace Corps money.  I think this generally deters volunteers from going to the doctors for something that might be serious.  There is a fear of being kept overnight in a depressing hospital room, all alone, with no internet, and maybe one English TV station….which always tends to be awful Jersey Shore reruns. 

My latest trip to the doctors was probably a necessary trip.  I had been feeling unusually weak and tired in site and woke up in the middle of the night with a massive side and chest pain.  I had planned to leave the next morning anyway to pick up my friends in the city who came to visit.  I started my hike out, and by the time I finished I was in tons of pain, shortness of breath, and feeling feverish.  I got on a bus to Panama City, but after talking to the Peace Corps doctor, I abandoned the bus and stopped at a clinic in Santiago about halfway there.  By this time my fever was raging and unbearable.   When they finally checked it, my temperature was over 103 degrees.  After a miserable two hours of waiting in the emergency room lobby I was finally given medicine and tests.  An x-ray showed that I had “demasiado flema” in my chest, which was either bronchitis or pneumonia.  I was fairly positive it was impossible to get Pneumonia in the tropics…but clearly not.

I was given IV meds as well as a face mask. Thankfully I was treated very well; just held hostage for two nights. Finally I was set free with antibiotics and was able to meet up with my friends.  Although getting sick in a foreign country is terrible, I can rest easy knowing I’m well looked after.  It does make me realize as well how lucky I am to have such health care while everyone else in my community is drinking the same dirty water and have to pay out of pocket for their health care.  Thankfully the health Gira comes to my community every 2 and half months for a few days to do free checkups for children, women, and elderly.  This includes giving away medicines, vaccinations, and birth control. However, when the gira is not around, my community needs to walk far to the nearest health post and pay out of pocket.  As a peace corps volunteer, I strive to integrate and live at the level of my community.  Eat the same food and water; live in a similar dirt floor house, etc.  But there are a few things, including health care, which will always keep me from doing so.

Another blog on the way…

Love, Kayla

Unexpected Surprises...

I would say I am closest to my first host family in Cerro Banco; they kinda treat me as one of their own daughters.  I guess it doesn’t make much difference when you have 13 kids already to add in one more. Because of this they get angry with me if I don’t stop by their house every few days to visit and eat some sort of meal and a cup of sugar with a little coffee in it.

So after spending the whole day in my house, due to excessive rain, I decided to brave the storm and head over to Vicente’s house for a visit.  It started out as any normal visit would: Vicente was lying in his hammock, Adelia was cooking over the fire, Juanita was sewing a chacaras, and there were various kids and grandkids running about the house and taking turns to greet me. 

I was there for about an hour and during this time we covered all the normal conversation topics:

1.       How much does it cost to get to the United States and how many hours on a plane

2.       When I am going to marry an indigenous man so I can live in the community forever

3.       If I am currently making a Chacaras

4.       The rain

5.       If I get scared living by myself

6.       Is Bin Laden still dead

7.       How much do bananas cost in the sates

I was finishing up my bowl of boiled yucca and bananas when one of the kids told me that Maryenella wanted to see me in the other room.  Maryenela is one of my favorites. Unfortunately, she is rarely here because she lives with her husband in another community in the comarca. I finished off the food and walked into the room where I used to stay with 5 other girls when I lived there.

Maryenela was lying in bed in the dark, as in was approaching night time.  She turned over, smiled, and said “look!” She shined her flashlight next to her and there was the tiniest baby I had ever seen.   I was shocked!  I hadn’t even known she was pregnant.  “AJA LA VIDA!” I exlaimed.  “I can’t believe no one told me!”

She had the baby at 5am that morning in that very room.  It was a girl and her first child.  When I asked how she was doing, she said medio malo, but I knew she was happy because she couldn’t stop smiling.  Ngabes in general do not have strong reactions to things, but this time I could see the happiness shining right through her.  It was beautiful.

 I was pretty sure she hadn’t given her a name yet, as it is common in my community not to give names to babies until they are at least a few weeks old, but I asked anyway. She replied, I want you to give her a name.  Once again; shocked.  Me? Really?

For anyone who knows me, knows that I am an incredibly indecisive person, almost at an unhealthy level.  But the name came right to me.  Elisabeth, named after one of my oldest and dearest friends.  Maryenela said it was beautiful and unique and thanked me. 

Pregnancies and having children in the comarca is much different in the states.  It usually is not that big of a deal to have children and it is rarely talked about.  In fact, women generally like to keep in under wraps for as long as possible.  I pretty sure this is why they make their naguas so big.  Also, the word for pregnant in ngabere is the same word for sick.  So, instead of saying, "you have such a nice pregnant glow about you"......you are sick.  Even though all this is true, there is still something so magical about having a child, no matter where you are. 

A Quarter of My Way Through Service...

It has occured to me that I have been blogging about interesting or ridiculous stories that I have experienced here, but I haven't really explained who the Ngabe and Bugle people are, whom I live with, and what sort of Peace Corps projects I am working on.

Let me start out with a little history of my people. The Comarca Ngabe Bugle is the most recent formed indeginous reservation in Panama. There are approximately 12,000 Ngabe people and 4,000 Bugle. They have been fighting their physical and cultrual survival since the Spanish Invasion in 1501. Unfortunately, it is easy to see parts of the ngabe and bugle culture dying out, for instance when younger kids do not speak the language or have a lack of interest in traditional activites.

The land of the Ngabe originally extened from the Pacific Ocean to the Caribbean Sea, but the conquistadores and later on lations forced the ngabe people far into the mountains. The Bugle, was once a large population as well that lived in provinces closer to Panama City, but were forced along the the ngabes as well. The Comarca, or reservation, is the result of 100 years of fighting for independence. They finally won in 1997, when over 400 men, women, and children marched 400 kilometeres to Panama City and the Panamanian nation law which made the Comarca official was signed.

Originally the Ngabe and Bugle were hunter-gatherers spread out apart form other families. Recently, since the 1970s, they have been beginnning to form communities surrounded by school and churches. However, some communities, like Cerro Banco, are still very spread out. The culture here is based around a socialist feeling and collective work. Farm work is done and shared in groups, which is generally the extended family. Some comarca communities are becoming more and more modern, especially with newly formed roads, schools, and other new additions to communities. My community is farther out into the mountians and still does not have much access or influence from the outside. With the lack of a road it does make relationships with outside agencies and developmental work difficult.

Currently I am working on organizing the community to achieve a latrine project, mini acueduct project, and I am starting to talk to the school director about starting an eco-club in the community.First, my latrine project. This is going very slowly as Cerro Banco is so spread out. I am electing leaders who I can work wiith in each sector of my community. In each sector we are developing a census of people who need latrines. Most people in the community do not have any and are using either the fields or streams to go the bathroom, which can contaminate crops and water cuasing sicknesses. This is an important need that I am stressing to the community that most understand. From here I need to stress the idea that this project is not an governmental or politicion gifted project. We, as a community, will be organizing, gaining funds, and constructing all the latrines. This is a very hard concept to get across, as most are used to projects simply coming to the community and not being achieved by themselves. I am estimating to construct about 70 latrines and teach health charlas along with it to explain the importance and use of each one. Also, in one sector of my community, where about 60 people live, they have an organized mini acueduct committee. I am working with them to teach them how an acueduct can be built and managed. The other day we measured the water flow from the spring, which will be the source of water for this system. This is done to see if there is enough water coming out of the spring to be sufficient for the number of people in the system. Next we will be measuring the distances and and altitude difference between the houses the the tubing will go to to see exactly how much PVC we would potentially need and if a reserve tank is necessary.Additionally, I want to start working on starting an eco-club in the community. There is a lot of need here with environmental education and trash management. I figure this is some way I can get the kids involved in a fun activity as well as teach sustainable living.

These are my current general projects. As the next year and a half goes by, I'm sure I'll pick up other work and peace corps activities. I also worked in another PC community the other month helping facilitate a project leadership management seminar for a week, which was very successful and tons of fun. I should be doing the same seminar in my community in the future. But since development work is slow and I work at the pace of my community, I generally pass the days by planting or harvesting food, visiting community members, creating innovative receipes with rice, and hours in the hammok. Not too shabby.

Thanks for reading. Miss you all

paz, amor, y dios,
Kayla

Viene Bechi y Hedi

AAAOOOOOAAA! AAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAA! An introduction to Salimaring

This is basically a specific type of yell, almost a tarzan like sound, that is a way of life in Panama. You salimar when you want to greet people, sigh, work in the fields, check if anyone is in the latrine, or pretty much anytime you want. Generally one person starts it and it is followed up by anyone who wants to answer. It can be done once or continue for quite some time almost as a competition. Salimaring is almost only done by men, especially in my community. I am absolutely terrible at it. It is not on my official list of Peace Corps Knowledge, Skills, or Attitudes. But of course, I continue to do it no matter how much I sound like a "Chui" -meaning foreigner in ngabere. Everytime I salimar, it is more than likely followed up by muffled giggles from all who are around.
A few nights ago, as I was just getting into bed around 9:30, my neighbor decides it was time to salimar the loudest he could. This was of course followed up by someone from another hill answering him back. Usually this goes back and forth just a few times, but this time they didn't stop. People from all over Cerro Banco were joining in. After 20 minutes of listening to the howling, I decided to get up, since I wouldn't be sleeping anyway, and join in. We continued to salimar for another half an hour; it was ridiculous. I was pretty sure all my yells were drowned out by everyone else, per usal. But the next morning as I was lying in my hammock my neighbor from way down the road came over with a bowl of rice and about 10 guavos. He said he heard me salimaring last night and then declared, "ya. tu eres ngabe" Meaning: now, you are Ngabe.

Although I have been feeling more comfortable and integrated in Cerro Banco for the last few months, it is such a relief to hear that I am accepted in the community. Even though I may hover over everyone of them with my 5/10 stature, fall on a daily basis, refuse to put baby oil in my hair, fail at cooking over a fogon, and still have language difficulties, they see me as part of their community.

The last month in Panama I was so fortunate to have my parents come visit me. We caused a minor scene at the gas station on the side of the highway where I met them with all the excitment of finally seeing each other after 7 months. After a relaxing 3 days on the beautiful, coconut filled beach, we made the trek into my community.
Feliepe gave my parents the names Bechi, or as we like to say bitchy, and my dad the name Hedi. The 3 of us slept in my tiny little house, with my mom and I in my bed, and my dad in the hammock.

After my site adventure, we made our way over the hills to Bocas del Toro, which is another tourist area of Panama. It is basically a bunch of islands, with restuarants right over the water and great beaches. It kinda has a Santa Cruzy/Key West sorta feel to it. We spent a few days here kayaking, snorkeling, and exploring. On our way back to Panama City we stopped by my friend Adam's peace corps site. Being in the Economic Development sector of Peace Corps Panama, he has helped his community develop an organic chocolate tour for locals and tourists. Here we got to see how cocao is grown, harvested, and grinded into pure cocao. It is definitely the best chocolate i've ever tasted.

After a few adventures in Panama city, touring the canal and old town Panama, it was time to leave my parents and head to my Peace Corps In Service training. It was so nice to have visitors here and share a little bit of my life with my family. Pictures are posted on facebook, feel free to check them out.Miss you all!

Que te vaya bien,
Kayla

Isenia

You know that feeling when you finally get home after a long day of hiking in the sun and harvesting beans and you can rest by yourself in your hammock with a cup of coffee. I do, and let me tell you, its wonderful. As much as I have enjoyed the benefits of living with host families, its glorious to finally have my own house. I am able to cook for myself, be on my own schedule, and not be woken up multiple times in the middle of the night to simply be asked, "que hora, Melidi?". Never in my life did I think the first house i would own would be made completely of bamboo, panka leaves, rope, and have a dirt floor, but I couldn't love it anymore. And people have been stopping by, giving me housewarming gifts...which is generally green bananas, but sometimes they even bring cooked food to my house. I think many are concerned that I don;t know how to cook at all. but, I'm not complaining. free food is free food. I must still be in that college mentality.

Currently, there are lots of things going on to report. Since I've spent about 5 months in site now, and 7 in Panama, I've become more and more accoustomed to the lifestyle here and have a good grip on the community. Because of this... and the In Service Training I have coming up, I am starting to organize a few groups in the community to start latrine projects and the possibility of getting a health post in my town. So far, we're just talking about the necesities of parts of the community and creating a census, but it is great to see people putting their trust in me and stepping forward to work together to better the community. The first step to development is always the hardest...but it's coming along...one meeting, and lots of cups of coffee, at a time.

Even though I am adjusting more and more to the culture, I am still witnessing crazy cross cultural experiences everyday. I have one story I would like to share. This was probably one of the most intense days of my entire life, but very thought-provoking. So I figured this would be something to blog about.

I finally made it up the hill to my host families house. I was sweating bastante and dragging my feet through the mud after a long day of hauling bamboo for my house. I plopped down on the front porch and thought I would rest for a bit before I mustered up enough energy to walk down to the nearst stream to shower. Just then my host mom, Domitilla, came out the front door and said, "Bron Melidi!" meaning lets go. So, I got up and hiked a half hour farther into the mountains.
I had heard from various people in the community that a young woman in town, Isenia, was very sick and was staying at her mother in laws house high in the mountains. Isenia lives most of her time in Panama City, but comes to Cerro Banco every few weeks to visit. Because of this she is very open and a little more comfortable with outsiders. Isenia was one of the first people I met in the community and really made me feel like home here. She is one of those happy-go-lucky girls who will stop and talk to you and who everyone in town knows and loves. I would call her one of my best friends in Cerro Banco. So, I told my host family that I would love to pay her a visit sometime soon. And apparently, that was now. So off we went..tired, drenched in sweat, and nearing dark. When I had asked what kind of sickness she had, people hesitated to answer, but told me she was weak, couldn't walk, and having fits. I assummed it was some sort of epilepsy and urged them to take her to the doctor. They said the doctors couldn't help for something like this. It was spiritual. When I got to her house, it was surrounded by crosses made out of sticks staked into the ground and community members huddled together. I immediately realized I was completely unprepared for what I was about to experience. I was handed a banana leaf and was instructed to use it as a fan for my face, then I was motioned to enter the house. The door to house was completely barracaded by various kinds of vines, leaves and other plants that I needed to limbo through. When I made it inside, I was completely surrounded by smoke and saw a few people and 2 girls lying on the floor, unconscious. Not only was Isenia struck with this illness, but another young girl aound 15 years old was sick as well. I was told they had been sleeping for abuot 30 minutes and they were breathing slow. As I leaned over to check Isenia's pulse, I noticed she was soaking wet, had a cross made out of ashes on her forehead, and her hands were tied together. Confused and scared, I backed away. And then it started. Isenia started to scream and throw her body around, as if she was writhing in pain. The people surrounding her rushed to hold her down and tried to calm her down by talking to her, while the others threw some sort of water mixed with natural medicines on her. Just then our local pastor grabbed her forehead and started yelling in Ngabere, the local indigenous language here of which I can only speak a little. As I watched her struggle, tears immediately rolled down my eyes and I felt compltely useless. This lasted for a few minutes until she passed out again. By now it was around 9pm and my stress level was at an all time high. I asked around if there was anything I could do to help, but they all said no, just being there in solidarity was enough. But, feeling overwhelmed and in the way, I decided to step outside for some fresh air. Outside, there were probably about 30 people from my community also there in support. Many brougth tarps to sleep on and others were playing cards and drinking Cacao. Many were even laughing and looked as if they were having a good tine, like it was some sort of party. At the moment, this just enrageed me . How could anyone be smiling at a time like this? Didn't they know what was going on? A little while later, I heard 2 loud shots from inside the house. Paniced, I ran insidode thinking the worst. Fortunately, they were only fireworks, which I was told was to kill the devil. Both girls had woken up again at this time and, although were very weaked, were acting normal and being fed some rice. I stayed inside for awhile and watched as everyone interacting almost as if nothing had happened. They were making jokes and doing anything else they could to lighten the mood and wait through the night. I went back outside again and sat down next to Enrique and asked him what was going on and these two should see medical attention. He explained to me that in life, there are things out of our control that only God can handle. In the meantime, we can only pass the time. We can mourn or we can celebrate life together. That is why people are here. What was happening to Isenia was terrible, but this is what we can do. Starting to understand a little more, I calmed down a bit. Eventually, I was given a place to lie down, but first was washed with a medicine water for prevention of the illness.

Isenia was forced to stay up in that house in a small cage for 2 months without once leaving while she recovered. The curer she was seeing said it was a necessary process for healing. I tried to make it up there once a week to visit and pass the time with her. She told me she wanted to leave, but she was in danger of hurting the others around her if she did so.

Isenia is much better now. In fact, she surprised me the other day by visiting me at my house and brining over some rice. She is still that same smiling girl. I still don't understand why she was given an exorcism, forced to stay up there so long, and frankly, anything that happened up there that night. But it did make me think about spirits, diseases, and the freedoms and opportunities we have in the states.


More blogs to come soon...
Love,
Kayla

Nantore Dere!  Or Good afternoon, in Ngabere.  I'm very slowly picking up the native dialect here, which has been halpful to integrate more into the community.

I hope everyone had a great holiday season!  For Christmas, my host family was travelling to another community about 4 hours away on foot. As luck would have it, another volunteer, Aleah, who is a year into her service, lives right on the way.  So I went to her community to celebrate Christmas.  Although there is very little that goes on for Christmas in the Comarca, especially in my community because of the lack of money, a few families in Aleah's community organized a lunch celebration.  So Aleah and |I spent Christmas eve and Christmas day baking cakes and carmel corn for the kids.  Of course at the celebration both Aleah and I were asked to stand and say a few words about Christmas.  We ended up singing a few Christmas carols in English- which gave us tons of blank stares, but a loud round of applause.  We finished off Christmas day by cracking open coconuts that were gifted to us with our machetes.  A step up from egg nog, I think...if only we had some rum to go with it.

For New Years I stayed in Cerro Banco to celebrate with my community.  In Panama, it's typical to make a "muñeco" which is basically a scarecrow that they call "the viejo," or the old. Then at midnight on New Years Eve, they burn it to signify burning the old and bringing in the new.  So my host family and I made a viejo, I helped stuff the doll and drew the face.  On New Years Eve, I spent the evening lying in a hammok, drinking coffee, eating bananas, and gossiping with two of my better friends in the community.  We had a great time.  Once midnight hit, we light a firecracker...which scared me half to death, and burned the viejo. Then, naturally, I passed out because my usual bed time in site is somewhere between 8:30 and 9.

It was really great to be apart of the holiday celebrations here, but this time does make me think a lot about life here in general.  Living up in the mountains is beautiful.  Most the time I think anyone would be so lucky to experience life up here- working in the beautiful atmoshpere, eating naturally off the land.  And then i think the exact opposite.  The lack of opportunities and poverty here hits outsiders hard. Since there is currently no acueduct in my site, we drink water from the river, which is full of bacteria.  This is fine for the adults, because they have developed immunity and grown accostumed to this.  However, it makes the kids extremely sick.  Many children here have extended stomachs full of amebos or worms and are sick with diarrhea.  Unfortunately it is common for families to have lost a child due to this.  This for me is the hardest thing about being here and witnessing first hand.  But what I do love is that many people in my community are generally concerned with the health of their children here.  In fact, the most functional committee in my community is the PTA and health comittee in the school.

There are many times I feel like I should just donate all the money I have here and then leave because that would be the most helpful.  However doing that would not provide any type of sustainable development and probably benefit only a few families, and not an entire community. Also the cultural exchange aspect and most importantly the education factor would be lost.  Now that I have spent two and a half months in site, people have been getting to know me and more and more, and are getting comfortable with the gringa who lives here.  Soon, I will be starting work in projects including health lessons, latrine building, and possibly having a muchachas guias group (girl scouts).  But for now, I'm still enjoying time with people, making friends in the community, (which I love to do), and avoiding the snakes.

Thnaks for reading
Be well,
Melidi

COWS

Coming from a high school where I was constantly ridiculed by for being known as a "hick" and holding events like cow pie bingo, and then continueing at UC Davis, where I lived closer to the cows pen then my classes...you would think i would have had my fill of cows. 
Clearly not. Throughout the mountains where I live, there are various cows that roam the land.  But these aren't just ordinary cows, they're Panamanian gigante cows. Some are with horns, some have big humps on their back, and all constantly look angry. Naturally, they freak me out, considering I used to be scared that the chickens we're going to attack me all the time.  Recently, I've had some great encounters with these cows.

#1  Awhile back I was going on a long hike to another community by myself to meet new people.  During the hike I passed a Ngabe woman who I stopped to greet and talk to.  After discussing the weather and getting asked the usual questions (mostly: why aren't you married?, where are your kids?, how come you're so tall?, and why are they're brown speckled dots all over your face and arms?) She asked me if i was scared of cows.  Trying to be tough and not wanting to seem like a sissy gringa, I lied.  "no, no me molesta," I say.  She replies, "oh good...because there is a HUGE herd of them blocking the path up ahead...and you're wearing red, which makes them angry." As she turned to leave I interrupted her and shouted, "I lied!" I'm actually terrified of cows.  She laughed and then ran into the forest with her machete.  A few minutes later she returned with a freshly made spear (because everyone can make spears out of machetes)and said here, take this to protect you, you'll be fine.  And she went on her way.  So there I was, alone in the middle of a mountain range walking on a path holding a spear out in front of me waiting for something to charge.  As I turned the corner a few minutes later I indeed came across about 15 to 20 cows just hanging out.  With no way to pass them and no better idea of what to do I just started waving the spear around crazily and yelling.  Right then, the campesino who owned all the cows popped up from the other side and asked what i was doing. I'm sure my face immediately matched the color of my bright red shirt.  I said, oh you know...just dancing." Confused, he moved the cows for me and I awkwardly thanked him and continued up the mountian laughing at myself.  However, I still walked holding the spear straight out in front of me for the rest of the hike. 

#2 So I just recently moved to a new host familly.  For my first 3 months I'm living in 3 different host families in order to get to know more people.  My new family is incredibley sweet and welcomed me into their house by having a midnight meet and greet/induction ceromony with all the neighbors (which consisted of 20 Ngabes in a dark room sitting on a bench and staring at the the white girl sitting in front of them).  This family lives on a compound a good 30 to 40 minute hike away from the center of town and has quite possibly the best sunsets I have ever seen.  I love it.  I sleep in a bed that they made for me in their kitchen, which has no doors, which is somewhat common for Ngabe houses.  On my first night there, I went to bed and fell asleep immediately, exhausted from all the commotion of the induction.  A few hours later I woke up to some sort of crunching noise. Because we live in the mountains with no electricity for miles, it is pitch black at night, to a point where you cant see your hand in front of your face.  Just thinking it was a chicken, I turned over and went back to sleep.  Then the noise got louder.  So I fumbled for my head lamp, sat up, and flashed on the light to find 2 massive white cows standing right in front of me chewing on my mosquito net!  Thankfully my high-pitched girlish scream scared them just as much as they scared me, so they ran from the house...breaking part of the panka roof on their way out.  Of course word that Melidi is scared of cows spread like rapid fire around the compound and it has been a running joke for the past week. 

Often times I just feel that I'm in the Peace Corps simply to provide comic relief to the people in Cerro Banco.  I love it. If I can make someone laugh or smile during the day, I feel like thats a success.

In other news, as promised to many, here is my address in David where I can get mail.
Kayla Howard-Anderson
Cuerpo de Paz
Entrega General David- 0426
Provincia de Chiriqui
Republica de Panama 

I hope everyone is having a great holiday season so far and singing lots of Christmas carols.  I am currently teaching the 6th grade class how to sing jingle bells for Christmas.  It's still a work in progress. Until next time...

Paz,
Kayla/Melidi

A Whole New World...

Happy (belated) Thanksgiving to all!  I am so thankful for all of you who are taking the time out of your day to read this. It´s so refreshing to know that people are interested in what I´m doing here in Panama. Since I´ve last posted, I´ve finished training, met the president of Panama, swore-in, and have been living in Cerro Banco for the past month.

I live with a family of 13 kids for now, which is at times insane, but it´s been great learning the Ngabe family dynamics.  The women, who are typically extremely shy, finally started talking to me a few weeks in and now we can laugh at how terrible I am at weaving chacaras (traditional woven bags), pilaring rice, or using my machete.  For the next 2 months, I´ll be living with 2 different host families and then moving into my own house, which I am currently in the process of starting to build.  Yes, I am building my own house...who would have thought that would even be possible?

I´ve done so much, and sometimes it feels like so little, in the past month, it´s hard to sum things up. But here are a few things I´ve learned while living in The Bank
1. I LOVE BANANAS
-Ok, I always knew that. But little did I know that if you boil them while they are unripe and green you can eat like 9 or 10 of them for a meal, which I eat at least every other day flavored with Salt or Tang.  Also, banana tree leave are used for everything! paper towels, toilet paper, plates, bowls, tops to pans, and they make excellent make-shift umbrellas.
2.You can pretty much do anything you want, as long as you have your machete.
-This includes- making spears, digging holes, planting anything, killing snakes and other unwanted insects, mowing the lawn, and much more.  I never thought I would be a proud owner of a machete, but it definitely comes in handy.

3. Silence is Golden.
-Other than librarians, I think ngabes follow this rule more than anyone else. It´s extremely common here to pass the day going to another persons house to visit with them.  However, for about 80% of the time no one says anything, which is considered polite. The other day I ate dinner with 8 men after a work party, and for a half hour no one said a word.  For someone who loves to talk, this has been quite the adjustment.  But I´m definitely coming to enjoy just passing the time with someone in silence.  I think it means your comfortable with them.
4. "When a women thinks too much, she dies"
-My host dad told me this the other day and I thought it was kinda funny. At first the feminist in me was initially offended, and I protested.  Then I thought about it for a while and realized, yeah, when I think too much, I go crazy.  
5. You can kill 2 birds with one stone if you wash your clothes the same time you shower.
-Since there is currently no running water in my site, I bath in the nearest stream.  Although it´s refreshing, it´s not very private. So generally I wash the clothes that I´m wearing the same time I wash myself- it´s genious.
6.Skin infections, giardia, blisters, and barbed wire hurt.
 -Enough said.
7. It´s totally acceptable to have 7 cups of coffee a day.
 -If not coffee, then some sort of juice...possibly made from corn, banana, or pifa.  When people go visit friends around town, it is culturally appropriate to give them either something to eat or drink.  Although the people do not have much to give, they are very generous with that they do have. This is something I respect lots about this culture.

Although I have TONS more to say, I´ll keep this blog short and sweet as I will be blogging again in a few weeks.  Alsol I ´ve posted a few pictures on Facebook...so check it out. 
As always, thanks again for reading!

Paz,
Melidi

Cerro Banco- Comarca Ngäbe Bugle

 Daria, Jedi, and I (she´s one of the tallest women in the community)

 Juanita making a Chacras (woven Comarca bag)

 Kids playing volleyball

Cerro Banco- or literally translated "Bank Hill"- is my new home away from home!!! After months of training, hour after hour of sitting on hard metal charis in a sweaty room with 20 other trainees, and learning how to mix cement or thermoform properly, I am finally in Panama for what I came here to do. Be a Peace Corps Volunteer!
I´ve know this for quite some time now and trained for it, but now that swear-in is arriving, it all seems surreal. But I´m so excited and anxious to begin.

I just got back from my first site visit to Cerro Banco and things got off to a shaky start.  All us trainees went to a conference and a community guide from each of our sites was supposed to come and meet us there so we could have a mini seminar and then each go our separate ways with our guide.  However, due to many reasons, my guide could not come, along with 2 other trainees.

Due to the change of plans, my super-awsome PC training director, Juan, drove the 3 of us personally out to our sites to meet our guides.  Foustino, my community guide, met me in Oma, which is half an hour North of San Felix of the Pan-American highway.  From Oma, Cerro Banco is about an hour and a half hike into the mountains (or 2 hours with a heavy pack).  Hiking through these green mountains was incredible. We got to a clearing and I was literally surrounded my mountains on all sides. I felt like the Latina or Indigenous Fraulein Maria and wanted to burst out singing the hills are alive with the sound of music, but I figured I should probably tone my enthusiasum a bit down before I scare the ngäbes.

Once I got to my site I was overwhelmed with emotions.  In general, the Environmental Health sector in Panama has the most poor and rural sites in all of Latin America.  The Comarca definitely falls under this category.  Before going to my site, I was informed that Cerro Banco has no running water, (except for one faucet at the school that works approx 2 days a week) no electricity, and no sanitation facilities (so no latrines orother places to go the bathroom). I totally understood this and was definitely ready to experience it. However, going there and actually seeing and living in it was completely different than I expected.  The poverty there is almost unbelievable and it is crazy to think that is how life has always been here. But what was even more incredible was that I was graciously accepted into a community members home to live there for the first month of my service, even though most people are still very confused why there is a Gringa living here.

The moment I got there, I was given a big bowl of rice, beans, and cafe -all staples in the Comarca.  One great thing about this place is that even though there is extreme poverty, there seems to be plenty of food to go around, at least in this season. Everyone owns land and works on the farm to harvest and sell food.  Also, sharing, especially food, is a huge deal in the ngabe culture. During my fist few days in the community when I went around to each house to introduce myself, I was either given a plate of food, coffee, cacao, or a fresh coconut to drink out of. Another great resource is that Cerro Banco is surrounded my little streams, springs, and rivers. So there is lots of water available right now. 

But this leads me to my main source of work.  Due to lack of education, money, and other resources lots of people are sick with colds and many children have intestonal problems.  This is because soap is a luxury that they do not see or know to be very important.  Even worse, it is culturally common to use the same stream where they get there drinking water to use the bathroom.  This leads to many illnesses, especially with the children. So there are tons of opportunities for work here, first starting with education.  Fortunately there is a governmental agency currently bringing in latrines to Cerro Banco, so I will be working with them and my community to teach them proper usage.  This is just one of the many things I will be doing in my community ontop of making friendships and fully integrating into the culture.  Although right now I am overwhelemed with everything and realizing that this isn´t going to be an easy adjustment, I´m so excited to start my journey.  I´m defintely reminded of my favorite poem, Ithaka.  It seems to suit me right now.

¨When you set out for Ithaka
ask that your way be long,
full of adventure, full of instruction.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - do not fear them:
such as these you will never find
as long as your thought is lofty, as long as a rare
emotion touch your spirit and your body.
The Laistrygonians and the Cyclops,
angry Poseidon - you will not meet them
unless you carry them in your soul,
unless your soul raise them up before you...

Since I am almost out of time on my internet I´m just going to leave you with a list of fun things I did during my site visit.
-planted corn
-carried 2.5 gallons of rocks on my head for and hour uphill...4x
-harvested and pelared rice
-showered in the river, everyday
-collected and dried plants for weaving bags
-had a scorpion on my leg (thankfully it did not sting me)

Thanks for reading as always and keep sending emails!  I love hearing from you.
love,
Kayla or Melidi (my Ngabe name)