Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Christmas

It is the week of Christmas and I’m in Panama, which is a short way of saying it doesn’t feel like Christmas. The slightly longer way is the other day I was talking with my parents and they told me they got 14 inches of snow over the weekend. I told them that earlier that day it was probably 90 degrees. Talk about a contrast.

So while I won’t be playing in the snow this week (I’ll be on a beach!), I wanted to thank all those friends and family who have meant so much to me over the years. While I won’t be spending the holiday season with you, I’ll be thinking about you. Especially, my wonderful sisters, brother-in-law, and parents, I can’t wait for your visit soon!

Stay warm and Merry Christmas.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

The Celebration

These past couple days here have been full of excitement. First, on Tuesday, none other than the First Lady of Panama came to the school bearing gifts and sacs of food for the Holiday season. Then, yesterday, 28 sixth graders graduated from a pilot project of D.A.R.E in a special celebration. As the resident photog, I was there to cover it all.

The visit by the First Lady was quite the scene. By the time of her 11:00am arrival, my community was quite abuzz. Not to mention the entourage of cars that accompanied her visit. Here is her arrival to the school (She is in the middle talking to the director of the school on the left and the governor of Herrera on the right)..

After words by the First Lady, Santa and crew started handing out the goodies..

By the time things wrapped up, everybody was happy, well, save for the few older boys who didn’t get a soccer ball.

The celebration ball kept on rolling into the next day for the D.A.R.E. graduation. While they use the term DARE, they have a different spin on it - EducaciĆ³n para Resistir el Uso de Drogas y Violencia.

It was a neat experience for the kids, as they had the police band play for them..

Walk across the stage to get their medal and certificate..

And cap it off by having a group photo taken by me..

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

The Dry Season

Well, it’s the end of the rainy season as we know it down here in Panama, and I feel fine. Even if this rainy season, wasn’t that rainy. This, of course, made this rainy season a lot more hot and humid. Now the weather is in the process of changing. Over the next 4 months, I’ll be living in a climate that each day is the same, i.e. hot, sunny, and windy. To prepare myself for this, I’ve come up with a Pros and Cons list of living day to day likes this. Let’s start with the Cons first…

Cons

  • Without any clouds, the sun attacks you with more vengeance than the vendetta fueled killings at the end of The Godfather I and II combined. Sunscreen is a constant companion during these times.
  • Each day I wake up, I feel like Bill Murray’s character in Groundhog Day. Although the dates change, each day feels the same. Sun is out by 6:20am. By 8:30am it gets hot. By 9:30am it gets really hot. By 12:30pm forget about it. By 6:30pm the sun is down and it’s much cooler. Perhaps I can use this time to better myself like Murray’s character and learn jazz piano, ice sculpting and French. Since it’s too hot to do ice sculpting, I doubt I’ll be doing the other two things either. Such a waste, I know.
  • Because it’s dry and windy, dust blows everywhere. This isn’t too much fun for your eyes or trying to keep a clean house.

Pros:

  • With the sun always out, it’s pretty easy to keep a nice tan.
  • Great beach weather. And guess what? I don't live that far from the beach!
  • After being offered up as a sacrifice to the mosquito gods for the past seven months, it'll be nice not having them around for a while.
  • You don’t have to worry about making plans around the weather.
  • The locals will be saying things like ‘bastante sol’ or ‘demasiado sol’ which is fun to hear.
  • Once again, I don’t have to worry about shoveling snow.

And you know what, that reason alone is impossible to top. That’s one thing I don’t miss about home. Keep shoveling that snow.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

The Thanksgiving

This Thanksgiving marked the second straight year being away from my family for my favorite holiday. Last year, I celebrated the day with a small group of volunteers. This year, more than 100 volunteers descended upon Cerra Punta (up near the Costa Rican border) for a two day Turkeyfest.

After about 8 hours of traveling on Wednesday – which was short compared to some friends – we kicked off the two days with some relaxing and a few drinks. The next day featured dinner around 5, phone calls to family and more drinking and dancing. Somehow, I didn’t get to do two of my favorite things on Thanksgiving – watch football and a post dinner nap. Don’t worry, though, I will more than make up for missing out on those two things next year.

While it was sad to be away from family again, it was great to be with my other family. One thing that made things easier was the surrounding area made me feel like I was home in West Virginia. Cerra Punta is tucked inside the mountains and the landscape reminded me of being near Elkins, West Virginia. We even had a stream running down the outside of our room. Plus, the weather was actually cool there. I was wearing a light sweater Thanksgiving day, which never happens in my community. I’m more likely to be wearing a layer of sweat.

Of course, the main key to any Thanksgiving is the meal. And after some false starts with getting the turkeys in the oven, things tured out very good. Just a notch below my Aunt Randy’s cooking., though.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

The Shrimping

A couple weeks ago, I went with my counterpart Sergio to the shrimp tanks just a little outside my community. My counterpart had been tending the tanks for a couple months and now it was time to start harvesting some of the shrimp.

A couple points of note: Because it had been unseasonably dry during the beginning part of the rainy season, the harvesting of the shrimp was pushed back some. Also, to help feed the shrimp, Sergio would busted up a coconut and throw it into the water. This struck me as strange. But then again, quite a few things strike me strange here.

So off we went. Sergio’s brother Carlo went as well. They were there with their nets and I was there to take photos.

As you can see they pull the net over their shoulder. Wait, why am I explaining this? I have video that explains it a lot better than I would ever do it: (Note- I tried to embed the video, but wasn't successful, so you can watch the link here.)

I just hope my dad doesn't see people wadding around in knee deep water and start having ‘Nam flashbacks.

In the end, we (I use this term roughly, because I did throw the net and caught a couple shrimp) caught about 70 pounds of shrimp. For my work, Sergio gave me a few…

…and they were delicious.

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

The Despadida, Part II

Coming off the high of Independence Day here in Panama yesterday, I would like you direct your attention to the fabulous write-up that panablog (RIP) had last year regarding this festive day. You can read it right here.

In my world, this past weekend I attended another going away party (despadida) for another friend (Rob) that lived in my region. Now you might be wondering why all these despadidas all of a sudden. Well, Peace Corps Panama operates on a cycle that features two different groups that come down each year. The odd number groups arrive in April and go to site in July. While the even number groups arrive in August and go to site at the end of October. That means while one new group is coming into site, another group is closing service and heading home. So this past month featured Group 60 finishing up and going home, while Group 64 made their arrivals at site. Meanwhile, I’m Group 62 and stuck right in the middle. Next October, our group will be finishing up and Group 66 will be arriving. Doors closing, doors opening, etc. If the previous paragraph didn’t make sense to you, don’t worry. In the grand scheme of this thing called life, it shouldn’t even make a blimp on your radar screen.

However, here is something that makes sense to a lot of you – a fun time! So let’s talk about that. Saturday, I ventured over (up?) to my friend’s Rob site. Rob and I are both Community and Economic Development Volunteers, so we share that bond. But it goes a step further. We are connected by a river. The river runs through his town and bears that name. Meanwhile, I live at the mouth of the river and have the name of the river in my community’s name as well. In that case, we are like kindred spirits.

Rob lives in a much different site than my friend Franco who was profiled earlier on this very blog. That meant, it was going to be a different type of party, but there was one common theme – awesome Azuero people. Rob’s primary work was with a small savings and loan cooperative. They were the people that put together the party. And quite the party they put together. The master of ceremonies had an agenda and an array of speeches and special guests lined up. It started off with a touching speech from the president of the co-op. He thanked Rob for his work in the development of the community. It was quite a speech. From there, two different groups of dancers stopped by and gave a great show for the party attendees:



More speeches and some wonderful gifts to Rob followed. It was all very touching. It was quite obvious the community had a deep affection for not only the work Rob did, but Rob himself. The cake they made for him really showed it:


On the left is a photo of Rob in his traditional dance outfit of the community. On the right is the depiction of the time Rob rode the bull in his community. Isn’t it awesome? The cake was very good, by the way, too.

I’ll miss Rob, but he’s got a bright future ahead of him. Good luck, slugger.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

The Yearning/Craving

KRAMER: Do you ever yearn?
GEORGE: Yearn? Do I yearn?
KRAMER: I yearn.
GEORGE: You yearn.
KRAMER: Oh, yes. Yes, I yearn. Often, I...I sit...and yearn. Have you yearned?
GEORGE: Well, not recently. I craved. I crave all the time, constant craving...but I haven't yearned.


That last line from George about sums up my feelings pretty, pretty good about being away from American food for 14 months. I’m not going to lie, at times it has been difficult, but I’ve never yearned. Just constant craving. With that in mind, here are some things that I’ve craved:

My Mom’s Homemade Chicken Pot Pie: It might even been better reheated.

My Aunt Randy’s Fresh Green Beans: Boy, I’m going to miss these at Thanksgiving.

The Baconator: Greatest sandwich ever? Just kidding, I’ve never had one of these before.

Colasessano Pepporoni Roll: Fresh out of the oven. Covered in sauce and cheese. Mmmmm.

Pad Thai: Preferably from Thai Tanic in DC.

Arby’s 5 for 5 Roast Beef: Yes, I know they cut it down to 4 for 5, but this is my list. So it’s 5 for 5.

My Aunt Rai’s Mashed Potatoes: Whipped perfectly, always. Another thing I’ll miss at Thanksgiving.

A Juicy Steak: At this point, I would take about anything.

A Spicy …

…you know what, I better quit before my craving turns into yearning.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

The One Year Left

One of my favorite moments from the Larry Bird SportsCentury – and there are a lot of them – is when Billy Cunningham, the coach of the 76ers of the time asked Red Auerbach, the general manger of the Boston Celtics, why he drafted Larry Bird when Auerbach knew that Bird was not going to join the Celtics until the following year. Red responded simply, “do you know how short of a time period one year is?” Of course, it turned out perfectly for the Celtics. Bird joined them the next year. The Celtics had at the time the biggest turnaround in NBA history. Bird won three MVPs, three championships and went down in history as one of the five greatest players ever.

What does this have to do with me? Well, I can now use the Auerbach quote because I have one year left in Panama. It fits the situation, right? Well, it does in my book.

With one year down, I have to say I have enjoyed my time greatly. And I am looking forward to the possibilities that the second year could hold in store.

With that in mind, it is likely that I won’t be updating my blog quite as much during the next year. Why? Well, because this coming year might not be as (mis)adventurous as the past year. Being more familiar with the territory and repeating a lot of the same things, I likely won’t be repeating the same stories. Plus, I’m not a good enough writer to put a different spin on things and make them more interesting. But who knows. The next year might be even more interesting.

Stay tuned.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

The Despadida

Once again, I am going to spotlight my friend, Franco. However, this will be the last time, as this past Saturday, I went back to his community (along with some other volunteers) for his going away party or as they say in Spanish, his despadida.

Franco was one of the first actual volunteers in the field that I got to know. He came in a year ahead of me, where he also lived in the same region I do. Having much in common, we became fast friends. Things got off to a fast start when during culture week, I, along with some other new volunteers, helped Franco carry a pig over to his site. He planned to use the next year to fatten up the pig and then carve it up for his going away party.

So I couldn’t miss the despadidad. I mean, quid pro quo. You don’t help someone carry a pig and not get a couple slices, right?

That brings us to this past Saturday. We made it to Franco’s site in the early afternoon just before the rain arrived. Franco, anxious to get to the party, decided it would be a good idea to walk in the rain. So that meant we had to go down this in the rain:


I somehow managed to slide halfway down it without getting that muddy. A miracle, really.

From there the party’s festivities picked up. The pig was cut up and delicious. There was some dancing and a general festive atmosphere. All the while, the rain continued. The party broke up a little past dark (there is no electricity at Franco’s site) so us gringos headed back to his place. And that’s when things got a bit nuts.

By this time, the trail leading back to Franco’s home was a complete mess. When we made it back to his house, we were covered and mud and looked like we just spent the weekend at Woodstock.

But it was all in good fun. I’m going to miss hanging out with Franco, even if he thinks soccer is the best sport. It’s kind of odd when a friend of yours down here leaves, because they go back to life in the states, while you’re left trying to fill the void.

But enough self loathing. Franco’s got a bright future ahead of him. Good luck, buddy.

Wednesday, September 30, 2009

The Botfly

Before I start this entry, I need to warn you, the reader, that this ‘adventure’ is kind of gross. It didn’t happen to me, but to a friend. However, since I’m trying to provide you a glimpse of my life here, I feel like I need to write about it. So if you are eating or get grossed out easy, it would probably be best to end your reading right here. For those who like to take a walk on the side, come on, let’s go.

You may recall my friend, Franco, who was mentioned last month in regards to the world map project I help him with at this site. As noted, he will be leaving Panama soon, because his two years of service are up. He’s done some great work in his community and for that hard work; Panama repaid him with a nice going away gift. Two botflies!

What does a botfly do? According to Wikipedia, Botflies deposit eggs in a host body, or sometimes use an intermediate vector: common houseflies for example. The smaller fly is firmly held by the botfly female and rotated to a position where the botfly attaches some 30 eggs to the body under the wings. Larvae from these eggs, stimulated by the warmth of a large mammal host, drop onto its skin and burrow underneath.

As you can see, it’s not something you want to be dealing with. To compound the problem for Franco, the bits took place right about his upper lip. This led to just a tad bit of swelling:


With his lip looking like he went a few rounds with Roberto Duran, Franco went to have things checked out. Given a variety of medicine, the swelling eventually went down. Then he shaved off his wanna be campo mustache, which left him looking like this:



Not too good. Plus, he said whenever he would get hot (easy to do in this country) the paid would be excruciating. Oh and occasionally, the holes would seep out some blood. So Franco went to Panama City to have it checked out. And sure enough, they were botflies. In his own words, he said the suckers came ‘shooting right out’ at the doctors.

Hello, friends.

Not to worry, though. A week later Franco’s face is basically healed, so his dashing good looks remain intact. Plus there are no term health reminders from this mishap. Well, other than this entry and the photos.

Note: If you want to see a video about a botfly coming out, you can watch this. Again, it’s not for the faint of heart.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

The Neighbors

I have now been settled into my house for seven months. While it’s mainly bare inside and a little beat up on the outside, it’s a just place to flop.

But what’s it like around my house? Well, I have a nice lady who lives very close to me on my left. Sometimes she likes to play her music a Little loud a bit too early in the morning while warming up her pipes to the sounds emitting from her radio, which can wake me up. Other than that, though, she’s great. She even complimented me on some food I gave her one day.

On the other side, is an open field that is inbetween my house and the school in my community. Behind my house is more open field, which is essentially used for grazing of these guys:


Well, hello.

Basically, about one week a month these guys come around and mow down the grass. Like this photo taken from the back of my house:


I never have any problems with them except for the occasional 'surprises' that leave behind a foul odor. Oh and I don't think they help my mosquito problem. But all and all, it’s not too bad.

Thursday, September 17, 2009

The Mango Tree Part II

After a glorious 2 month run, last week my mango tree could give no more. The joy that the tree provided me was unmatched by any other tree I have known. A moment of silence, please.


Thank you.

When the tree was overflowing with mangoes, I would simply get up each morning, go search under the tree and find three or four ripe mangoes that had fallen the night before. They were perfect and ready to eat. And eat a lot of them I did. I was eating two to three mangoes a day over this stretch! Eventually, something happened that I never imagined could happen, I actually started to get a little worn out on them.

Along the way, I started having a building a stockpile of mango reserves. To alleviate this problem, I started giving mangoes away to friends, neighbors and kids that stopped by my house. And I kept giving and giving. All toll, I easily gave away 200 mangoes!

So now, I face the coming month’s mango free. It will be tough. I’m not going to lie. But don’t worry; my orange tree is starting to flourish.

Wednesday, September 9, 2009

The Music

This past weekend, there was a little disco in my community. It was a pretty fun time, but what stuck out most to me was conversation with my Panamanian friends about the music.

By in large I feel like I’ve adapted pretty well to the Panamanian culture - the food, the language, the pace of living and the little cultural quirks that come with the country. However, one area I just can’t get in tune with is the music. It’s not that it is bad, or my eardrums are ruined from listening to it at such loud levels, it’s just that I’m picky with my music.

There are a couple types of music that are big here- tipco, Spanish pop and the occasional American song. Tipico is the most interesting and unique of the types. The popularity of this genre of music is captured by the duo of Sammy and Sandra. On the Spanish pop front, I feel, despite being here for over a year, I still hear the same 7 songs even today. I know this isn’t much different that listening to WVAQ in the late 80’s-early 90’s, but one can only take 'Sucio, Sucio' so many times before he or she snaps. As for the American songs that make their way down here, I would prefer these actually didn’t happen. They represent some of the worst that our country has to offer. It only gets worse when someone asks me if I like the song. Quite often my answer is no, and they always follow it up with what type of music I do like. Usually, I answer with the umbrella generic term of rock. Oh so like Linkin Park, is what comes next. Well, no, not exactly.

Thankfully I have my iPod and some cheap little speakers that keep me content. While the speakers couldn’t fuel a Yoke Street block party that starts at 8 and goes all night, they are good enough to drown out the music when I need a break from a neighbor’s blaring speakers.

People will on occasion stop by my house and bend their ear to some tunes. Usually the reaction is favorable. But my favorite musical cultural exchange occurred a couple months back on Father’s Day. Here in Panama, Father’s day is the same day as in America. As I was walking down to the public telephone to call my dad, I was intercepted by a couple friends enjoying their day in the sun. Inviting me over, we hung out on the porch listening to some tipico music while enjoying the atmosphere that the Azureo culture provides.

After a bit, one asks me about American music. This discussion leads me to eventually bringing over my iPod and speakers to jam out on some of my tunes. That’s when the fun started, at least for a bit.

Choosing guitar heavy songs (Dinosaur Jr), my older friends started to get into the first. There may have been some fake air guitaring involved, as well. However, by the second song they had had their fill.

You can’t gritar over the reverb, you know.

Wednesday, September 2, 2009

The Missing

This coming Saturday is one of my favorite days of the year and for the second straight time, I will be missing it. What is it? Well, of course, it is the Hampshire Heritage Day in Romney, West Virginia.

I’m joking, of course. This Saturday is the first WVU home football game. And that means I will miss not only the game, but the tailgating.

That first tailgate is always is great fun. The weather is warm. You see family and friends likely for the first time in a while. The refreshments are plentiful and cold, while the food is overflowing. There is a feeling of optimism in the air. Well, until you remember that Bill Stewart is the coach.

Over the past couple years, I had developed a pretty solid tailgating route. I would start out at the house of my friend Michael. He always had a top notch tailgate. Do this math problem to figure out why. Family beverage distributor (lots of beer) + Family Italian Bakery (lots of food) + Great friends = Great times!

From there I would meander up the dreaded Law School Hill to where I would alternate between a family tailgate and friends tailgate. And the good times would continue from there. More food. More cold beverages. More good conversation.

So that’s what sucks about missing Saturday- a festive day with great people.

Drink one for me.

Wednesday, August 26, 2009

The World Map

A couple weeks ago, I ventured up to another volunteer’s site (Franco) to help him with a world map project he was doing at his school (i.e. paint a world map on the school so the kids can get a better understanding of the world around them). Franco and I live in the same region, but in terms of how we live, we are worlds apart. For starters, Franco is an Environment Health (EH) volunteer, while I am a Community and Economic Development (CED) Volunteer. The gist of this is Franco - along with the other EH volunteers - live in less developed areas, and often requires a hike to their site, because a road does not go to their community.

Franco is no different. We got dropped off about a 45 minute hike from his site. From there, we had to navigate the hills, streams and tricky terrain to his community.



As you can see, it’s a bit different from the flat ground that I’m surrounded by in my neck of the woods. Once we made it to Franco’s community, we came to Franco’s house. Because the community is so small (about 150 people) there were no open houses, so Franco, with the help of the community, built his own house.


Needless to say, it’s pretty cool.

The next morning we made our way over to the school. We were joined by another volunteer (Hailey) who lives nearby in the region and hiked over to Franco’s community. The three of us worked first to lay out the grid at the top part of the map. This was more difficult than it sounded because the ground which we put the ladders on wasn’t the best, as in it was on a slope and a bit rocky. Nonetheless, we were able to complete the top part of the grid. After that, we repainted the ‘ocean’ on the bottom part, because the first coat didn’t hold up too well. Here Hailey and Franco are working hard, while I’m hardly working:



At the end of the day, we put Franco on the fast track to finishing the map before he leaves Panama in October when his two years are complete.

Sunday, August 23, 2009

The Ryan

I’m sure most of you were wondering where the entry from last week was. Wait, you weren’t? Well, last week I had my first visitor to Panama- my cousin Ryan. He arrived last Tuesday and departed early this morning. Here’s a recap of his time in Panama. I want you to read this.

After being picked up at the airport by new friends here in Panama that I met through the Peace Corps office – Rich and Anne – we went to the Metropolitan Park in Panama City. We hiked around the park to a view overlooking Panama City.


After grabbing a meal in the city, we took an overnight bus to the other side of the country near the Costa Rica border to the city of David. We got into the city at 6:00am and then took a bus north to the Lost and Found Hostel that is located in the mountains of the Chiriqui province. The hostel is just under a mile high from sea level.


Once there, we took a tour of a local farm that grows everything organic. The farmer had a wide variety of things that grew on his farm that ranged from tropical fruits to coffee to sugar cane. One highlight of the stop was Ryan helping in squeezing the juice out of the cane by swinging a log up and down on the plant. It might have been his first manual work in years.


Sadly we didn’t get to do the natural treasure hunt that the place offers because of heavy rains in the afternoon into the evening. We left the place early Thursday morning and ventured back to my community in the Azuero. Getting there in the late afternoon, we grab a typical Panamanian meal at a local restaurant ($1.60 per plate!) and headed to my site. There Ryan got to see my house (he thought it was extremely bare), my community and meet some of my good friends here. He was invited to come back in January when there wasn’t any rain.

The next morning before heading back towards Panama City, we took a walk down to the port in my community. From there, we hopped a bus out of Chitre with the intentions of stopping at a beach along the way. Through a little local knowledge and luck, we came across a deserted beach about an hour and half outside Panama City. This is when the fun picked up. While riding a wave, my cousin got tossed and flipped in a pretty strong one. It turned out he hurt his wrist pretty bad. Needless to say, that ended our time at the beach.

As we were on the bus to Panama City, Ryan, fearing that his wrist was in bad shape, decided that he needed to go to the hospital. After getting some advice from a taxi driver, we landed at one of the local hospitals. After five hours and an x-ray it was determined there was no fracture, just that he jammed it pretty bad.

Even with the wrist injury, Ryan was not going to be deterred from going on Saturday morning to visit my friend Alyssa’s site. Alyssa is a volunteer in an Embera community, which is one of the indigenous groups of Panama. Joined by Rich and Anne, we headed up towards Colon to her site.


There we were greeted by the traditional dances of the community as well as explanations on how they use the surrounding area to live. Ryan and I also got something to the effect of a painted, temporary tattoo that represented a cultural significance to the Embera people.

However, Ryan was in store for one more unique experience. While eating lunch, one member of the community noticed the bandage on his arm. When asked if Ryan would let the gentleman have a look, Ryan, figuring there was no harm, obliged the request. After a quick glance over the situation, the local medicine man started to pull and tug in the efforts of improving Ryan’s wrist. After about ten minutes of ‘physical therapy’ Ryan was pronounced ok, and things should be better in a couple more days.

While I tried hard to give Ryan a great cultural experience, it took a bum wrist to get the full effect. Nevertheless, even without the native medical experience, it was a great time. So come down and see if you can top Ryan’s trip.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

The Bull

Today marks a year in Panama for me. Over this time, I’ve seen and done a lot of things I never would have experienced in the States. After all, I am living in a totally different culture. However, one thing was missing - seeing the running of the bulls.

Now this isn’t exactly like what you would see with the famous running of the bulls in Spain. Instead, here in Panama, the activity features bulls shot out from a gate with a person sometimes riding and sometimes not. There are also a ton of people milling around the ring deciding whether to challenge the oncoming bull or run for their lives. Most cases the people would run as fast as they could for fence and climb it for protection. I’ll let you guess why that choice was most often taken.

And I have to say, I don’t blame them one bit. When you see something like this charging at you, what would you do?




That’s what I thought.

The highlight of the day was when my friend, that lives in the town where the bulls were at, decided to give it a shot and ride the bull. When he went shooting out of the gates on the back of the bull, his hometown folks in the surrounding arena exploded in approval. It was a cool scene. My friend gave it his best effort and lasted about 10 seconds. Afterward as we were milling around the crowd, people were coming up left and right to congratulate him on his ride. That was really cool. The exchange cultures at its finest.

Now, I just need to work up the nerve to go next year. Although, that nerve will likely never come.

Thursday, August 6, 2009

The Dylan

While it might be true that I’m the only white poet warlord in my community, that’s not to say the Dylan brand doesn’t exist outside of me in my parts.

Case in point #1


As you can see that’s me, holding a young child that lives in my community. You might have guessed it, but the kid's name is Dylan! And before you wonder, no it’s not Dylan Jr. It just so happened that there was already someone named Dylan here before me. I guess he was the test run to see if I would work here. It can be confusing for me when I am around him. I just didn’t expect another Dylan around me, especially not a Panamanian.

Case in point #2



This photo is of a hair salon in the bigger city near my community. I’m not thrilled to have my name attached to such an enterprise, so let’s just move on.

Case in point #3



Oh that’s right. A popular, international clothing line bearing my name is prevalent here. It’s quite a hoot, really, especially when I see someone from my community wearing one. The one thing I can’t decide is whether I should be owning and wearing some of these t-shirts. I mean would Calvin Klein be caught wearing a ‘Calving Klein Jeans’ t-shirt? I don’t know; I’m asking you. I could totally see Tommy Hilfiger wearing one of his shirts, though.

Whatever the case, I'm kind of a big deal down here.

Wednesday, July 29, 2009

The Weeds

Before the start of the rainy season, I was talking with the guy I rent my house from about various things. During our conversation, he told me about how rich the soil was in my neck of the woods. I believed him to some degree, but when I looked around me, there was a lot of dry vacant area. Of course, it hadn’t rained in nearly five months, so, that didn’t help matters.

Fast forward to present day, and I can clearly see the results of what he was talking about. Because things have really taken off. Everywhere. But probably no better example of this is at the baseball field.

You may recall back a few months ago, I posted about playing baseball in my community. The field where we played had been overrun by weeds and grass, and to fix the situation, the decision was made to just burn down the outfield. Here was the end result:


As you can see, there was nothing left. The situation remained that way pretty much through May, prior to the first rains. Now? Well, let’s just say the scene is a little different:



Hoo boy. As you might guess, not too much baseball is being played now. In fact, the outfield looks more like an Iowa corn field, then an actual baseball field. Every time I head over to the field, I keep expecting ‘Shoeless’ Joe Jackson to come walking out of the weeds and ask me to play long toss. Really, old Shoeless would fit right in with my community because of the whole no shoes thing, which is pretty much standard foot attire for most players, including yours truly, well when I’m batting. My sensitive feet can’t hold up on the outfield.

But, alas, Shoeless hasn’t shown up and neither will another baseball game for awhile. The weeds, however, will continue to grow.

Thursday, July 23, 2009

The Bonfire

This past Thursday, my community had a bonfire as a little fundraiser to help fix the small park in the town. To raise the funds, drinks and food were sold. And, of course, there was the bonfire and really, excessively loud music.


The shindig was supposed to get underway at 7pm, and much to my surprise, the majority of people came at 7pm. This is shocking because, in general, Panamanians operate on ‘Panama Time’ which is a way of saying they move to the watch only my dad would love, i.e. always late. After sometime here, I’ve become adjusted this fact, but it doesn’t mean I’m a fan of it. As total darkness fell upon us at 7:30pm, the bonfire was lit and the food and started rolling.

I realized that help was needed in making the hojaldras, so I volunteered my services to help roll out the dough before they were sent to the pan. Here I am in action (note: you can also see the high and tight buzz I got in the back from my haircut):


As the night rolled on, the big activities became singing/dancing and jumping over the bonfire. After dancing to the newer pop music, some of the older folks made a push for more traditional Azuero music. And, yes, there was even some gritaring.


The party started to fizzle out around 10pm, with all the food and drink gone (money raised!). While it wasn’t a Thursday Ladies Night from college, all in all, it was a good time.

Thursday, July 16, 2009

The Haircut

The other day I noticed my hair was starting to get a bit on the shaggy side. I’ve been keeping it mostly short, because, well, it’s pretty hot here. So I started to weigh my options on what to do. Since my time down here I have done a few different things. A Peace Corps friend cut it, I’ve cut it (oh my), and I have had my counterpart, Sergio, buzz it. As I was thinking about this, I came upon my decision. It was time to get my haircut in a Panamanian barber shop.

I have noted that Panamanian can be very particular about their hair. They love to use razors to make clean cut lines and definitely put time into detail. So I figured I didn’t have much to lose. Besides, in two weeks who would notice anyways?

I made my way into the barber shop with the standard ‘buenas’. The barber got an excited look on his face and pointed to the chair. I was up. While sitting down, I looked around the shop and felt like I was pretty much in an American barber shop. Namely, they had the older barbers and he even older guys that just hang out.

Now it was time to get down to business. I debated whether to ask for the Larry Fine, but in the end decided to keep directions to a minimal. In this instance, my limited Spanish vocabulary wasn’t a hindering factor. I just wanted him to go where the hair cutting spirits took him.

With that, we were off. Right away a big clump of my hair came falling down, and I knew he was going to go short. About halfway through, the barber opened up a drawer, took out five bucks and headed out the door. No word on where he was going or what. After about five minutes, he reappeared. With razors, no less. I was going to the razor treatment!

As the hair cut continued along, I was quite certain that never before had I had so many different clippers sizes taken to my hair. He must have changed around the sizes five times. I did get a little razor action, but no where near what I was hoping for. And in the end, I ended up getting a pretty regular haircut.

But at least I got a lame entry idea from it.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

The Gritar

You may recall, ok, probably not, but back when I wrote about my day in the rice field, I mentioned an activity called 'gritar'. In fact, this is what I wrote:

Another interesting activity is the yelling that occurs about once every half hour. Basically, one person lets out a scream that I don’t even know how to translate it into a typed word. I’m sorry. Come visit me and you can experience it firsthand. After that person lets his ‘grita’ (or scream) out, another person answers that call. And they go back and forth a couple times. Sometimes another person joins in as well. That’s when it really takes off.


Well, now you don’t have to worry about coming to visit me, because a friend of mine put up a video of the activity on YouTube. So, click on this link, and enjoy.

Thursday, July 2, 2009

The New President

You might recall a couple months ago that there were elections here in Panama. Well, yesterday was the inauguration for the new president Ricardo Martinelli. Here is what one paper had to say about the upcoming term for the new president who came into office promising change.

Martinelli, who brought together several opposition parties under the banner, "Alliance for Change," said that he will reduce red tape and offer a leaner, more efficient government.

He said that he will end the tradition of elected leaders "arriving clean and leaving millionaires," which reiterated one of his most popular campaign slogans, and said that the needs of the people will come first in his administration. One of his promises was to provide a pay increase for police officers, viewed as a way to reduce crime, and to give a pension to indigent senior citizens of $100 per month.

Other program outlined by the new president included the construction of low-income housing, the construction of a metro system and the titling of land.

One thing I find funny is the line about arriving clean and leaving millionaires. Because Martinelli is already a millionaire! However, a lot of the things that Martinelli outlined could have a positive effect on Panama, especially the metro system (traffic in Panama City is awful), low cost housing, and titling of the land.

There was one thing that shocked me about yesterday, though. The fact there was no fireworks in my community. I mean, people set them off for anything from celebrating Mother’s Day to having a little fun while drinking, but yesterday there were none. My community was strong supporters of Martinelli, too. So maybe there will be some change in Panama coming up.

Thursday, June 25, 2009

The New Team

When I was a kid, and really up until recently there were only two pro teams that I hated – the LA Lakers and the New York Yankees. While my dislike of the Lakers runs true today (maybe even more so now), I have changed my stance on the Yankees. Yikes.

What happened? Well, about a week or so ago I was talking to my dad, when he asked me if I had seen how the Dodgers were doing this year. I told him, I did, but the team I was now following was the Yankees. After a few seconds of awkward pausing, he belted out “the Damned Yankees”. For a second I felt like I had betrayed my father. Meanwhile, I’m sure he was worried about a lot of things that could go bad for his boy while down here, but I’m sure he never foresaw this doomsday scenario.

So I had/have to explain myself. Or at least try. Prior to coming down to Panama, a friend’s dad had been down here some for business and he told me that everybody is a Yankee’s fan, because Mariano Rivera is from here. I have found this to be pretty true, but there is a mixture more so now than there was ten years ago when the Yankees won their World Series’.

The first family I lived with down here, the dad was a Yankee’s fan. While I impressed him by rattling off last year’s roster for him, I wasn’t sucked in. There wasn’t enough time.

Fast forward to me living in my community, and my good friend who lives across the street who is an older gentleman that is Yankee fan. He and his family own the little store that sells various things to our part of the community. Each morning and afternoon, he’s in front of the store with his Yankee’s cap on while watching the day’s proceedings. I always make it a point to stop by and chat with him each day.

And inevitably we started to talk about baseball. I told him about my one trip to Yankee stadium, and from there it bloomed. Now with baseball season going on, each day I ask if the Yankees won or lost. He fancies himself a big fan of the team even if he can only name Rivera, Jeter and depending on the day ARod, but he’s in the game. These conversations have brought me to where I’m at today, always wondering if they won or lost the night before while secretly hoping they won.

I’m not proud of it, really. But to make amends for my wayward ways I’ve converted my friend into a fan of…


…so you know it’s not all bad.

Thursday, June 18, 2009

The Frisbee

With the rainy season now here, baseball in the afternoon has started to dwindle. While it is a shame that the games have gone away, it is even a bigger shame that playing soccer started to fill the vacuum that was left behind. And in my book that is a big no-no. I just don’t get soccer. I wanted to try to get more into it while I was down here, but it’s just not happened.

So I started to think of other ways to try to stay active and in touch with the kids in my community without having to play soccer. When I was home in the states, my friend Holly bought me a nice Frisbee to take back down here. A couple times, I would bring it to the field and try to pass it with the kids. At first, a couple of them took to it, but their inability to throw it really frustrated them. But they were semi-interested and since I was not interested in soccer, I continued to bring it along.

This past Saturday it was time to make the leap to trying to play a game of ultimate Frisbee. I tried to explain the rules as best I could and had two kids pick teams. With that, I threw the Frisbee to the other team and we were underway. There was some confusion in the beginning in trying to get them to understand when possession changes and you can’t run with the Frisbee in your hand, but after a couple false starts, the game started to take shape.

My favorite moment happened when one of the kids picked up the Frisbee and threw it when it was suppose to be the other team’s Frisbee. I told him that it wasn’t his throw and he immediately picked up what he did wrong. The ‘ah ha’ moment if you will. That was pretty cool to see.

One of the neat things I get to experience is exposing the kids to new things. It is cool to see when kids pick up something new, because they get so excited. The same thing happened last week when I was teaching a typing game to one class. I was working with one girl and when she got the hang of the game, she practically hopped out of her seat in excitement.

I hope to see a lot more of these ‘ah ha’ moments and a lot less soccer.

Thursday, June 11, 2009

The Pista

Over the past couple weeks I have been really enjoying my new bike. No more what seemed to be forever walks down to the port in humid weather while sweating through my shirt. It’s now a nice jaunt at approximately 10 mph.

I’ve even been able to stretch my legs out on a couple longer rides. The exercise has been great. But enough about that. This entry doesn’t need to be approved by Richard Simmons. I think each one of you (what, there is like 10 people left reading?) knows the benefits of exercise. Well, except for my sister Johnna.

Anyhow, what I want to write about today involves my bike and a recently discovered hidden treasure in my community. A couple days after I bought my bike, I was on my way to the port to check out the scene when I was approached by a couple kids also on bikes. They wanted me to follow them, so I obliged and on I went. We took a path off the main drag and came upon one of the few wooded areas in my community.

Confused, I asked what where were doing. I was told to follow. Nervously, I agreed and quickly realized this was some kind of BMX/Mountain bike trail called a ‘pista’ in Spanish.


As we shot through the bumpy first turn, I knew my road bike, with skinny tires, wasn’t up for these conditions. But the kids pleaded I continued, so I continued. From there, the course became more treacherous, so I got left behind trying to nurse my bike back to safety.


Eventually, I came full circle. The kids had a big laugh at my slow ways. I tried to explain how my bike wasn’t made for these conditions. But something got lost in translation. Imagine that.

But the big laugh came the next day when I went to the baseball field in the afternoon. A couple kids approached me and asked if I went on the pista. I told them yes. Immediately, they started laughing and asked if I fell off my bike while riding. I knew at that point I was doomed. They had been told false information, but it didn’t matter. I would have had an easier time telling them Santa Claus wasn’t real then trying to get them to change their mind about my supposed fall. So I said just laughed and said no.

I guess taking a fall is better than thinking you’re married.

Thursday, June 4, 2009

Guest Host

This week, I am turning over my blog to my good friends Jay and Juila of Panablog. No, I am not shuting down and retooling. It's just they have done a feature on me that you can click on this link, and it much better than anything I can write. So enjoy.

Oh, as for my prediction for the NBA Finals. Well, I haven't got to watch a whole lot of the playoffs, but what I have seen, I've been impressed with the Magic. So give me them in six games.

Tuesday, May 26, 2009

The Bike

From the first time I visited my community back last October, I have wanted to own a bike. With the terrain here completely flat, nearly everybody owns and uses it to scoot around. During that visit, I saw somebody riding around on an old ten speed road bike. I knew right away that is what I wanted. I told my counterpart, Sergio, that I would like to buy that type of bike. He told me he would be on the lookout for one.

Once I arrived at site, I quickly surmised that I wouldn’t be able to get a bike during my first three months living with Sergio and his family. There just wasn’t enough room for a bike. So I bided my time and walked around the community and down to the port. Sweating a lot along the way, too.

When I moved into my own place at the end of January, my anticipation rose once again. I reminded Sergio I was in the market for a bike and also spread the word to a couple other people. I would look around as well, but I told myself I needed to be patient. Days became weeks then months, and I was still without a bike. I was starting to give up my dream of the old ten speed road bike.

Then one day I was chatting with Sergio when he told me he saw a bike for sale in the next town up. We made loose plans (the only way to roll here in Panama) to go up there sometime over the next couple of days. A few days past and we finally were able to nail a time to go. As we walked up to the store, I saw four road bikes for sale. Having tempered my expectations going in, I immediately became giddy. Now it just came down to which one I would chose.

After looking them over, I fell head over heels for a semi beat up blue Schwin ten speed. Sure not all the gears worked, but that really doesn’t matter. With flat roads for miles, there isn’t a need to switch gears like I would need to in WV.

I strolled back into on my bike like a conquering hero. As I went by people they asked if the bike was mine. You betcha, amigo. Eventually everybody started to ask me the number one Panamanian question – How much does it cost? They love to ask this question about anything. I try to usually tap dance around it, but this time I turned it back on them. A trend soon developed, everybody guessed high. When I told them the actual price, almost everybody had the same reaction, “Jo! Barato” or “wow cheap”.

So with my bike in the fold, I have started to take rides on it to get some exercise. I tried to start running again, but right now it’s just too hot. The air flow from the bike makes for a much more comfortable exercising experience. On my first trip back up towards the next town, I was wearing my bike helmet. As you might imagine, that’s where the fun started. First, I passed a group a 20 something males hanging out. They really didn’t have much to say, mostly because they couldn’t contain their laughter at me. Next I rounded a corner and came upon a group of four. A woman saw me first and was so giddy she started to hit the guy that had his back to me so he could turn to see. That’s right - a gringo riding by with a bike helmet on. Christmas had come a little early this year.

I just took it all in stride thinking to myself – “Safety first. Safety first.” But, really, who am I kidding. I do ridiculous in the helmet. But at least I have my bike now.

Wednesday, May 20, 2009

The Eating Contest

A few weeks back, I went to an All Vounteers Conference (AVC) where it gathered all the Volunteers serving around Panama together for a couple days. The conference allowed for a couple things – sharing experiences, getting to know more people, and have a little fun.

That last one is what I’m going to talk about today. One of the highlights of the fun time was the “Campo Olympics”. What’s the Campo Olympics you ask? Well, it was a series of events that pitted each of the different groups of Volunteers. There were five different groups (58, 59, 60, 61, and 62). My group is Group 62 and our chosen colors were green.


Now the events were a mixture of contests that are commonplace in the country side (campo) of Panama. They included a three legged horse race, slingshot contest, chowing down some mysterious food, opening a can of tuna with a knife, skinning an orange with a knife, grita or yelling contest, a dance off, tug of war and finally a banana eating contest.

While the rest of the events were great fun, I’m going to focus on the banana eating contest because yours truly was the representative from my group. Now originally I was not planning to try this one out - I mean who wants to try to scarf down 10 bananas as fast as possible - but nobody stepped forward, so I said I would do it. I do have a history of being able to eat a pretty good amount of food, so why not?

So I was joined on stage with my four other opponents. The 10 bananas were laid out before us and we were charged with the task of unpeeling them and eating them as fast as we could. Giddy up. Or so I thought.

The whistle blew and I reached for my first banana. As I was unpeeling my first one like a nice slow stroll through the park, the person next to me was thrashing through his first two like it was his last meal on Earth. I quickly realized this wasn’t the gentlemen’s banana eating contest.


I picked up my pace, but had trouble trying to chew and digest them fast enough to keep up with my competition. Eventually, I was smoked. I finished 7 ½, before the top three had gobbled and mashed there way through their ten.

I was loser. There was no doubt. I had let the other members of my team down. It was a low moment for me.

Like everything else, I just have to pick myself up and hope to be ready for next year. That is if my group selects me next year.

Friday, May 15, 2009

My First Visit

This past weekend I mixed things up a bit. I made my first trip to another site from a volunteer in my group. Well, actually volunteers. I went to see authors of the fantastic Panablog – Jay and Julia.

The two of them live in the next province over from me – Veraguas – but it might as well be a world away. After living in a completely flat area for the past seven months, it was a bit of a shock to my system when we pulled out from the bus terminal and immediately ascended up a road that was so steep at time that I didn’t think we had the juice to make it. Reaching the top, you descend down in the valley on a road that makes 19 to Grafton look like a beginner’s course for a driver. Welcome to the other side of the world, Dylan.


Reaching the community, we walked around some and met some people from the community. Jay and I shot some hoops while Julia started on dinner. And what a delightful dinner it turned out to be. I’m not sure how Julia was able to pull it off, as they don’t have a refrigerator (no electricity at their site) and it is not the easiest place in the world to be hauling groceries into. She pulled it off, though. Topping it off with a dessert of apple crisp that immediately ascended to the top of my personal charts. So all those who have made apple crisp for me in the past, the bar has now been raised. Good luck trying to top it.

Later that night, we watched the Larry Sanders Show on their computer, which is powered by a car battery setup that confused the crap out of me. Jay said it took them a couple times to perfect the setup, but now it’s working pretty well. I just nodded my head. Sadly, an electrician, I’m not.

The next day we awoke and hiked back up the mountain to make calls for Mother’s Day. The funny part is we had to call three different time zones (Eastern, Central and Pacific), but we all got to wish our mom’s a Happy Mother’s Day.


The rest of the day was a nice relaxing Sunday. I would be remised if I didn’t mention that I won two of the three games of Quiddler that we played. We watched Frost-Nixon that night and we all disappointed by it. I think Jay even swore off Ron Howard movies for good.

I headed back to my site on Monday morning – thanking my friends for the fine weekend. I hope to do it again someday. I just hope they get better at Quiddler.