Living in Three Worlds

During my Election Day blog, I talked a bit how jarring it was to move back and forth between my English and Spanish world. After being at site for two months, I have come to realize that I have three different worlds that I live in – my Spanish world, my own little world, and my gringo world.

Obviously, my Spanish world is when I’m in my community and interacting with the folks here. Interacting is a good way to describe it, because saying talking and listening would leave out the big portion of finger pointing and hand gestures that help me to fully understand something. My favorite gesture is the finger point to the sky that represents the person is interested in the United States. Yes, it took me a few times to catch onto this, but now I’m good to go. Being in my Spanish world can be mentally exhausting, but the challenge is fun.

The second world that I know is my own little world. This expression came from my dad when he used it to describe my cousin once. Many years ago, my dad, my cousin and I went to a mall after Thanksgiving where my cousin lived. After my cousin navigated us to the mall, we started to walk to the entrance of the bookstore. As we neared the door, my cousin started walking really fast oblivious to the situation and pretty soon he was well ahead of us. This lead my dad to remark, “there goes Ryan into his own little world”. Now I find me in my own little world often as this is when I’m listening to my iPod, reading a book, or using the computer. Similar to my cousin, when I’m in my own world, I tune out the world around me.

Finally there is my gringo world where I’m talking with friends and family back home or hanging out with some other volunteers here in Panama. The gringo world is a nice change of pace, because it reminds me of life back home in the States.

Each of the three is a different from the next and as a result sometimes shifting between them can be difficult. For instance, during Thanksgiving when I was in Santiago, I had taken the bus there and jammed on my iPod in my own little world. After getting dropped off, I had a ten minute walk to the house where we were celebrating Thanksgiving. After stopping for a king sized Snickers, I started on my way. A few minutes later , I encountered two other volunteers. As we started to converse, I barely knew how to act at first. My own little world was disturbed and it took me a couple minutes to snap out of it.

Speaking of which, I’ve been in my own little world long enough, time to go back to my Spanish one. Now that’s the one that is toughest to switch my mind into.

All I Want For Christmas

I remember as a kid, each year, my sisters and I would make lists of things that we would want for Christmas. The excitement in writing those lists was nearly as great as Christmas morning. There was a certain joy in comparing lists and racking your brain in trying to complete your list. It’s like the child’s version of coming up with a political bill. You get to think through the parts of the list. You seek input from friends. After the list is drafted, you go around and make your case to parties involved in the process. Ultimately, though, the final say is out of your hands. You just have to wait and see if the items in the list pass. Sometimes there’s joy. Sometimes there’s disappointment.

As I’ve gotten older, I really don’t write down my Christmas wish lists anymore. I would usually keep little mental notes and when asked I would jog my memory and tell Santa my family. This year, though, my wish list is pretty empty. My Mom keeps asking me in emails if I need anything, and since my first care package was sent, my answer has been nope. I have all the material things I need down here. More importantly, I have all the things in my life that make it great- a great family, great friends, a great new community, a great host family, a great opportunity to do some work that can really improve the lives of people. I can’t ask for much more.

Of course, I wouldn’t be completely truthful if I said I didn’t want anything for Christmas. My sisters are sending me some books and I’m sure my parents will come up with something interesting. Naturally, it would nice if that goofy thing that CNN introduced on Election Night, where someone is beamed into a location from somewhere else, were available it would be nice to be there for Christmas Dinner. However, since that’s not possible, the one thing I want for Christmas is to see the Celtics-Lakers Christmas Day game.

Having caught only brief moments of basketball this year, I can’t miss this showdown of the rematch of last years NBA Finals. That’s why, just like I was 12 again, I’ve already got my plan laid out on how to watch the game. I’ve got my lines already rehearsed in Spanish to get the game on the television. Now I just have to wait and see.

Hopefully, this wish ends in joy. Feliz Navidad.

Seeeeeecrets

There are some things that are best kept to yourself – like your social security number or admitting that you enjoy Joey Lawerence’s catchphrase “Woah”. Being in Panama I had a chance to keep something I did away from the folks back in the States. However, one day when I was talking to my sister, I decided to come clean – I had bought a pair of Crocs.

You see, this is a big deal, because in the past, both my sister and I had ridiculed our cousin after he bought a pair and then had the audacity to wear them out in public. So, naturally, when I broke the news to my sister, she went nuts on me. Pretty soon I was trying to defend myself in much the same fashion that my dad did when he was contemplating buying a Subaru Baja. At that time, he used words like “practically” and “versatile” to try to sell me on the car. I wasn’t buying it and I fired back that the car drove stiff, had bad sightlines and, most importantly, hideous looking. He held strong and went ahead with the purchase, so I knew if my dad could defend his auspicious decision, if I held my ground, I could do the same.

I started off telling her that it can be quite muddy here and I’m going to be living near water, so the Crocs are very “versatile” and “practical” (those buzzwords again!). Eventually, she reluctantly came around to my point of view. Of course, that doesn’t mean I actually like the things, but I have to say thus far they have been pretty useful here.

And that’s where they will stay – here. Unlike my dad and his Baja, my purchase of the Crocs was not a long term one. When I’m cleaning out my stuff after my two years are up, they will be the first things discarded. That’s why I’ve started a countdown of how many days I have left in Panama. Not because I’m anxious to return home, instead I want to know how soon I can rid myself of these monstrosities.

Only 671 days left.

I Was There in Spirit

As my sister Johnna mentioned in the comments section of my Thanksgiving post, the family decided to have a little moment for all the family members not at Thanksgiving this year. She sent me the photos, so I decided to post them.

Before we get to them, I should mention this idea was the brainchild of my future brother-in-law Dan (April 4, 2009!). As you can see, they even added in a nice touch of the Spanish speaking beer. Of course, they could have gone the extra mile and gotten one of the four Panamian Beers, but it's the thought that counts. To read more about the types of beer here in Panama, you can check out my friends (Jay and Julia) panablog taste test they did with some other volunteers from our group. It's quite good.

OK, the pictures.

As, you can see I'm hanging out in the photo with some yummy turkey and the beer. The photo is from my eighth grade year and I really don't have a lot to say about it, other than at one time I was a big fan of Zach Morris. So, I thought that outfit was something he would wear.

The second photo features other members of the family that weren't at Thanksgiving as well...

From the left:
My cousin Ryan. Looking extremely gabbish in his senior photo from high school. I can safely report he doesn't sport that haircut any longer.

Me.

My cousin Colin. Ryan's younger brother. The photo is just after boot camp for the Navy.

My Uncle Michael. My dad's younger brother. No it's not a Halloween photo. He was a professional boxer.

If your wondering where those muscles are at on me, well, I wonder about it too.

It's December, really?

I know the calendar says it’s December, but I don’t believe it. To me, I still think it is late August. Why? Because the weather here is still like it was when I left the states in early August.

Hot.

One of the things about being raised in West Virginia is living in a climate that has all four seasons. Therefore, the weather always told me what time of year it was. Hot weather meant June-August, while freezing my butt off said it was December-March. Of course, the trees would tell me when Fall had come. This year there was no Fall. So, it really didn’t dawn on me what time of the year it was until my mom emailed me a couple weeks back to say they had two inches of snow. Meanwhile, while I was reading the email, I was sweating through my shirt. Something was wrong with the whole thing from my perspective.

But that’s the way things are here. Different. (Note: actual details may not be factual due to the whole language barrier thing) There are two main seasons – rainy and dry. Right now, the rainy season is finishing up, as it last from April through mid December. Soon the sun will be out always and eventually there won’t be a cloud in the sky during late January into February. I have been told it gets really, really hot during this time. This should be interesting, because right now I think it’s really, really hot.

It is that hot weather that makes it impossible for me to believe it is December and Christmas is just around the corner. I know the calendar says it, but I’m not buying it. Christmas has always been cold weather and snow. Not heat and sweat.

That’s why this year I’m leaving my stocking in the closet and will opt instead for sunscreen and a beach towel. However, I will still accept gifts; just don’t expect one from down here.

You know, I guess, I always was the selfish one.

Turkey Day

Ah, Thanksgiving. One of my favorite holidays. Turkey. Mashed Potatoes. Gravy. Green Beans. Pumpkin Pie. Family. Football. Booze. Cold Weather. Lounging. In many ways it is the American holiday. You lie around watch football and stuff yourself full of food while hanging out with family. Does it get any better than that?

Of course not, but this year, I’ll be putting a twist of the holiday. Turkey becomes Chicken. Football becomes Panamanian soup operas and the cold weather becomes warm weather. I welcome one of the three changes; I’ll let you guess which one.

And so, this year I’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving not with family, but many of the cast of characters that I spent election night with earlier this month.

The plan is for everybody to arrive around noon in Santiago. From there, we will go shopping (you don’t have to be worried about stores being closed in Panama on Thanksgiving. Point - Panama) for our food. From there, we will go to the house of one of the volunteers that lives in Santiago to make the food. I’m sure that cooking everything will run longer than expected and dinner will be a little late (a Sacchetti family tradition!). I’m sure much wine will be purchased and the group will hang out drink it and talk about out new lives and be thankful for what we have. And, I’m sure that it will be a great time.

Come to think of it, the day won’t be all that much different from my day in the States, but at the same time, it’ll be nothing alike.

Confusing Words

One of the great challenges, and trust me there have been many, in learning a new language is trying not confuse words that sound alike, but have different meanings. To think this was an easy hurdle for me to overcome, well obviously you aren’t that familiar with my foreign language rap sheet and the troubles I’ve had in my past with learning a new language.

To wit, look at the following three words…

hambre (hungry)

hombre (man)

hombro (shoulder)

…three different words, all with close pronunciations, but different meanings. When you’re a relative newcomer to the Spanish language business that is trying to speak and understand things at a fairly quick pace, trying not to mix up words is tough to avoid. If your head isn’t spinning yet, these on for size…

caballo (horse)

caballero (gentleman)

cabello (hair)

…good. Say those three words five times fast and see if you don’t get the words mixed up. Ok, so you didn’t, but at one time this novice speaker did. What can I say?

Overcoming these obstacles is my great task in trying to reach my goal of becoming a fluent speaker in Spanish. I hope that at the end of my two years, I can speak fast, listen faster, and avoid embarrassing episodes like this one:

Late one evening (ok, it was like 7:00pm, but that’s late now) during my fourth week in Panama, I was physically and mentally drained from a long day. However, the father of the family I was staying with was peppering this odd person (me) with questions. Doing my best to answer, I was often forced to simple “yes” / “no” answers due to my lack of vocabulary at the time. When I thought the question of “are you tired” came at me, I quickly responded with “yes” and didn’t think anymore about it.

Well, that was until the next afternoon when the Spanish teacher told me how the whole town thought I was married. You see, it turns out the word for married (casado) is oh so close to the word for tired (cansado). Whoops! Thankfully, my Spanish teacher straightened out the problem, while I just chalked it up to another (mis)adventure in Panama.

Rooting from afar for the Home Team

(Note: This was written before the heartbreaking loss to Cincy last Saturday. However, the theme of the entry still stands)

This year marked the first time in about 15 years that I missed a WVU home game. Obviously, following the Mountaineers was a big part of my life. I mean think about it. A lot has changed since I had missed a home game. I was a skinny kid with a high pitch voice. The Internet hardly existed, and my friend Jason harbored aspirations to be President of the United States. OK, some things don’t change. However, for me over the past three months, a lot has changed. From moving to a new country to learning a new language, my life has been turned upside down. I’m getting adjusted to a lot of these things, but I’m still finding my way in the sporting world.

I knew going in I was not going to be able to follow the home team that closely. Watching games would be pretty much out of the question, but I figured I would still be able to maintain contact and my passion for West Virginia. However, I haven’t. Maybe it was when I got my passport stamped; I turned in my fans license. Or maybe it is because the people surrounding me don’t know a Mountaineer from a Longhorn or a Jayhawk (actually, there is a teacher at my site that went to Kansas and loves the Jayhawks, but you get the point). I don’t know, but this football season hasn’t been the same for me.

What makes this development more interesting is that this year has been a tumultuous season for the Mountaineers. It started last winter when the decision was made to hire an under qualified coach. At the time, I was not happy about the move. I thought the success of the program over the past couple years was in jeopardy. And as the Mountaineers stumbled out of the gates to a 1-2 start the emails and phone calls started pouring in. When my parents called after one game, my dad didn’t start with, “Hello,” but rather, “I don’t know why they hired Stewart.”

I love it when my dad gets fired up about sports. It wasn’t just him, though. One friend wrote in an email, “Because of the losses and Stew's cluelessness we have become a punch line joke for college football and those who report on the game. It is a tough time to stay positive so it’s good you are out of the country.” Another said, “Let's just say by the time you return, we likely will be a perennial bottom-feeder in the Big East.”

The last email had me cracking up, because two weeks later after a big comeback victory over Auburn this same friend wrote, “…the offense is clicking and all is right with the world.” Now, this friend is one of the most rational people I know. However, if you read just those two emails, you’d think he was of his rocker.

That’s when it dawned on me what I missed the most -- the joy of victory and agony of defeat. If I were back home right now, I’m sure I would have been cursing up a storm after the lost to East Carolina. Instead, I had to go into a bigger city with thoughts that maybe I could watch the game online, but I had to settle for following the game online through Gamecast. When the game ended, instead of being upset, I calmly closed the window and left and went to get something to eat with some new friends. As soon as the window closed, I forgot about the game. On the flip side, I’m sure I would think the team could beat anybody after the Auburn game. To me, that’s the best part about being a sports fan -- following those highs and lows. And I’m missing it 3,000 miles away from home.

I’m sure the passion will return when I come back to the States, but in the meantime I’m going to enjoy watching my friends and family appear to be insane, because who knows how insane they think I am right now.

Vote Early. Vote Often.

One of my favorite random nights in college was the first semester of my freshmen year when I went to my friends’ (Jonathan and Jason’s) dorm room to watch election night 2000. I knew the night was going to be interesting because both of my friends follow politics like the Europeans follow the World Cup and they have polar opposite views when it comes to politics. But I had no idea it would be THAT interesting. There were many highlights, but none better than Dan Rather turning the evening into his own personal comedy hour. I don’t know if he had somebody write the lines for him, but he was on fire that night. My favorite line was “He swept through the South like a tornado through a trailer park.” When I finally called it a night at 2am, there was no winner. Little did I know there wouldn’t be a winner for a while. A long while.

This election I’m operating under different circumstances. For starters, I’m in Panama in a hotel in Santiago. As you know, that isn’t in the United States. I’m joined by some new friends, Jay and Julia, who have their own blog, which is fantastic. You can read it here. As well as, Jodi, a self described socialist, feminist, atheist liberal. You won’t believe this, but she’s pulling for Obama tonight. Finally, there is Duncan, who is a world class modern living Heian poet that goes by Diego in Panama; because they have problems they have trouble pronouncing his name. Besides, Diego is a pretty freaking cool name. You’ll hear more from him later.

So that’s the setup. Oh, we have some Domino’s Pizza and Budweiser beer. Needless to say, it’s an All-American night even if Budweiser isn’t totally American anymore. With the 6 o’clock hour striking, we have our first polls closing and the CNN political machine springs into action. Just like the States, we get to see the stupid beam in hologram of a correspondent. Like most of you I’m sure, even in Panama it seemed ridiculous. It would be cool if this technology was more readily available, though. For instance, it would have been nice to be beamed into my grandfather’s surprise 80th birthday party a few weeks back. Alas.

As Dana Bush pops on the screen, the group agrees that she looks like an alien. Seconds later we see our first West Virginia graphic. It shows Obama with an early lead. I doubt it lasts, but it would be nice if the result stood.

Sure enough it doesn’t. I left the room to get some wireless internet and talk with my parents on Skype. While chatting with my dad, the news broke that West Virginia was going to McCain. The news barely hit with my old man, because he was chatting with his boy for free, even though he is a staunch democrat who took me and my two sisters out of school to go to the Clinton inauguration because he was happy to see the end of 12 years of Republican rule.

As I head back into the room, I’m reminded of the contrast of the new world I’m living in now. While in the lobby, I’m surrounded by Spanish, but when I head back into the room, I’m back into the English world, complete with a well dressed Wolf Blitzer. Juggling the worlds certainly shakes your equilibrium.

Another interesting wrinkle of the night is I’m surrounded with people from diverse parts of the country. The people range from Kansas to Texas to New Jersey. So, when some state race pops up, every once in a while someone in the room will erupt. For instance, they just popped up a race in Minnesota and Julia who was born there gave the room a lesson that Norm Colman was a “total sleaze ball”. There’s a piece of information that I wouldn’t have known if I was in West Virginia right now.

As the path to the White House for John McCain looks unrealistic, the mood of the room is high. I think we were all expecting Obama to win tonight, but we *didn’t* believe it would actually happen until it did.

Well, at 11:00pm, it’s official! We just cracked up a fresh round of brews and toasted to the U.S.A. Since, this night won’t last as long as the 2000 night, I’m going to hand this over to Diego to put an end to this entry and this night:

Ol’ America
Just have to live free or die
Blue tide rushing in
Cherry blossoms spring anew
Can the shifting sands be real?

Bridging Two Cultures

This past Wednesday, I was officially sworn in as a Peace Corps volunteer. Now, I’m ready to head to my site for good today. It’s an exciting, yet a bit nerve racking, because I’ll be on my on for good. But that’s what I wanted, and that’s what I’ll be getting.

To prep for this time, Peace Corps sends you off a couple different times during training to help get your feet wet, so to speak. During these times, you get to experience Panamanian culture. Immediately you begin to recognize the difference between the cultures in how certain gestures are done in Panama. For instance, when a Panamanian wants to show how big the size of a fish is, they don’t use both hands like in the States; instead they hold out their arm and then put their hand to the spot of the length. Another favorite is how they handle a situation where they don’t understand what has been said by another. When an American encounters this predicament, they usually raise their brow or shrug their shoulders. Here? Not so much.

What they do, instead, is scrunch their nose a couple times. The first time I was on the receiving end of this expression, I was pretty startled and taken back. I was like, “what just happened?” Eventually, I realized what happened and tried to throw together some broken Spanish again and cross my fingers it would work. It did, I think.

Finally, there is my favorite cultural wrinkle I’ve come across here thus far in Panama. When you need directions to a certain location, usually in the States someone would point a finger in the direction. In Panama, one puckers their lips and moves their head in the specific direction. It’s quite a scene, really.

While picking up these little differences, I would occasionally come across something that bridged both cultures. For instance, one night I was watching a playoff baseball game with my host dad. I noticed he had gotten up and a minute later he came and sat back down. When I looked over I saw he had gotten himself an ice cold brewsky. Immediately, I thought, “hey, I’ve done THAT before. Maybe we aren’t that much different after all.”

With that, I’m off to site.

The Puffy Shirt

One of my favorite Seinfeld episodes, and there are many, is entitled “The Puffy Shirt.” For those of you not familiar with the plot of this particular show, it centers on Kramer having a girlfriend that is a low talker. During one scene, Kramer, the low talker, Jerry and Elaine are all out to dinner. After Kramer excuses himself to use the restroom, Jerry and Elaine are at the table with the low talker and attempting to make small talk. The catch is that each time the low talker responds they can’t hear her. After asking for her to repeat herself a couple times, they just nod and say yes. So this continues on as Elaine mentions that she is running a charity event and Jerry is going to be appearing on TV to promote the benefit. After Elaine mentions this, the low talker mutters something that is inaudible. Not wanting to go through the whole “what did you say routine” again, Elaine and Jerry quickly said “sure”.

The next day, Kramer comes over to Jerry’s apartment and is holding an ugly, white, puffy shirt that resembles something a pirate would sport. Jerry asks Kramer what’s the deal with the shirt. Kramer tells him it is his and that he agreed last night to wear it during his time on TV. As you might imagine, Jerry is incensed and asks when he agreed to wear the shirt. Of course, it was during the time when Jerry and Elaine just hastily responded yes.

What does this have to do with me being in Panama? Well, two things. The first is I miss watching Seinfeld. It’s my favorite show and nothing else is really even close. The second and more important is a couple weeks back I felt everyday had “Puffy Shirt” potential. Allow me to explain.

For starters, when I arrived in Panama, my Spanish was basically non-existent. During the first few weeks, I was in a pretty sheltered environment where I was able to work on my Spanish without worrying about any potential landmines. That changed during “Cultural Week” where all the new crop of volunteers visits the province where they will be living and spend a week with a volunteer that has already been living in the region. It’s a great week where you really get your first taste of what life will be like in Panama. The one catch is you are staying with a host family that lives in the country.

What that really means is you get to learn to speak like most Panamanians. In other words, fast and the words aren’t fully pronounced. As you might imagine, it was a bit overwhelming, especially considering the father of the house took those two characteristics and pushed them even further. After he would ramble something to me, I quickly realized I was having a potential “Puffy Shirt” moment. At times, I would ask him to repeat what he said, but you can only go to that well so many times before you just start to feel a bit foolish and disrespectful. Sometimes, I got the drift of what he was saying, other times, I would have no idea, but still just nod my head and say yes. Each morning I was waiting for my own puffy shirt with a Panamanian twist, but thankfully it never came.

Now, my Spanish has improved and I’m much more confident and what’s going on in a conversation. However, that doesn’t mean I’m out of the woods just yet. Last week, I went to my site for first time and I found myself lost amid somebody talking faster than the old Micro Machines commercials. I’m hopeful when I return to site next week, I didn’t agree to something outrageous.

There would be a bright side. I’m going to be living on the ocean for the next two years, so if I get stuck wearing a puffy, pirate shirt by ‘accident’ I won’t look completely ridiculous. Just ridiculous.

Getting Started

Bienvenidos to my blog! As you know, I’m going to be living in Panama for the next two years working with the Peace Corps. As a way to keep everybody in the loop about my experiences, I, like many others, have started this blog.

Now what you will get with my postings is not a day to day description of what’s going on with my life and work. Instead, I’ll be focusing on a particular topic and tie in a variety of things, be it a story or experience from Panama, something back home in the States, or just life in general. The postings will vary in length. If I have something good, I could ramble on for a bit. Other times, it could be short and not sweet and you might utter under your breath, “boy that was a waste of time.” I’ll do my best to limit those postings, but that will fall back on my writing ability, so I can’t make any promises.

That said, the goal is to come up with a posting once every week/week and a half. For those technologically advanced, this will include my parents soon, I’ve added the RSS feed, so that way each time I post something, you will know without having to check the site everyday. If you miss me that much and want to check the site everyday, that’s your decision and I’ll support it 100%.

Please feel free to leave comments with the posts, or if you would like, you can send me an email directly to dylansacchetti@hotmail.com.

One final thing, I have listed other blogs of friends also right now in Panama. Feel free to spend some time on their sites. Well, as long as it doesn’t take away too much time from mine.

Dylan