Panama has the second highest income inequality in Latin America (Brazil taking the lead), and its not hard to fathom why when faced with the stark contrast of campo and city life. Driving through middle and upper class neighborhoods on my way to the Peace Corps office yesterday made me reflect on the concept of development. The haves and the have nots. The two faces of Panama (stealing a phrase from Carlos Fuentes` description of Mexico). Even going to visit my original host family in Rio Congo near Chorrera I was amazed by how much my perspective of wealth has changed. I remember when I first got to Rio Congo and considered the homes humble and honestly quite dirty. I thought the food was largely boring and complained of being overfed rice. Visiting this time however I felt like I was entering mansions and eating like a king, so excited to be eating rice instead of name. It is no wonder that volunteers often have a difficult time readjusting to the United States after living among such impoverished communities. However, I think to some degree Peace Corps Panama volunteers (or any volunteer where inequality within country is so prevalent) might be able to weather the adjustment back to the states better, having already dealt with some of the contrasts of wealth and privilege in country. I saw a porche yesterday, I´m currently surrounded by skyscrapers, and everybody is walking around with Bluetooth headsets and blackberries.
My community always asks me if everybody is rich in the United States (or simply states it) because that is the main image they take away from movies and the tourists on Bocas Island. Similarly, as I discussed with Helen last night (who by the way is arriving today at 3 and I can´t contain my excitement, nor sleep) it seems that many Americans have a much skewed view of the wealth within Panama. I myself used to visualize only the canal and the cityscape when envisioning this country. But now I have seen the other face, the extreme poverty of rural communities battling easily treatable illnesses and living off of the $100 every two months they are given by the government. I have become so enmeshed in the microcosm of my community and small scale grassroots development that being in the city allows my to reflect on the larger picture. Many times I am frustrated by my community´s inability to plan for the future, to make that $100 last longer than a week, to take their development into their own hands rather than wait for a government handout, and while of course I still feel strongly about those statements, one can´t help but feel that communities like mine should be provided with much more assistance when contrasted against the wealth of the city. But to be truthful I think the majority of that development really is best fitting in the form of education and capacity building (even if I simply sound like I´m preaching peace corps development mantra). But really I´m drawing on so many minds, Amartya Sen, Easterly, Wolf, Sachs, all development economists understand the importance of "human capital." The government`s role is not to provide everything, but rather to nurture an environment that allows individuals to succeed. But that undoubtedly requires a strong educational system.
Peace Corps Panama warns us that many of our communities will have little to know critical thinking experience, and while I thought that came off as quite patronizing, I ran into just that problem as I tried to discuss the strengths and weaknesses of the community at a community meeting the other day. It was like pulling teeth to get the community to discuss the things they like about their community and the things that could use improvement. In the end they were really just ready for my boss and I to say, well we´re going to build a bunch of latrines and a new water system for you. And although I thought the "a gringo but a poor gringo" message had gone over so well and my community understood Peace Corps` approach better than before, they still expected that they would get gifted a project and not have to do anything to get it. My boss Tim and I discussed Peace Corps` approach from every angle possible, and while again I ultimately came away feeling like they better understand Peace Corps` philosophy now, it’s obvious now that repetition and patience will be required throughout the next two years and most likely for the next volunteer in my site. But I have high hopes that my community can come together and work to make their community embody their realized or not yet quite realized dreams.
I would love any questions or critiques you might have about the post.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
A Gringo but a Poor Gringo
Currently I sit in Changinola awaiting my regional meeting with the other 30 volunteers within the Bocas Del Toro area. Sadly today we will hear from the Peace Corps Panama director about how we will not be able to continue with our desired growth plan for Peace Corps Panama given that the budget has not passed yet. Peace Corps Washington has asked all agencies to scale back their growth plans in fear that we will not get the budget increase we were hoping for. In effect, our Community Economic Development program is getting slashed and the intended implementation of a Youth Development program is not going forward.
Yesterday we did agency visits to get acquainted with potential stakeholders that we could work with throughout our projects with our communities. I continually questioned different agencies about whether they worked in the area of my site location. Playa Balsa sits in a difficult location. Geographically considered in Bocas Del Toro, but politically apart of the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle. It would seem that we should work more with the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle whose headquarters are in San Felix on the Chirique side, but given our distance, they most likely don't even know my community exists. Which is part of my role as a volunteer, trying to get my community more agency recognition.
I have now been in my site for three months and have come to the end of the reserved period of Proyecto Amistad (Project Friendship). I have visited every house multiple times, hauled lots of heavy vegetable bags, thatch roofing, and firewood (engaging in back breaking labor seems to have earned me the most respect among the community), and had three interactive community meetings (consisting of a community map, seasonal caledar, and daily activity schedules). I will present all that I have learned about the community on February 1st with my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director aka Boss) present and engage my community in activities intended to prioritize their desires for the community. It seems clear that they will express wanting a better water system as the first project. But while the communities we work with consistently see the actual infrastructure as our biggest contribution to their communities, we consistently try to promote our lead role as capacity development and education. Pushing the health side of our assignment while recognizing that the infrastructure will ultimately be my legacy.
Most of time over these last weeks have been dedicated toward working on my home. Its been a struggle to understand and feel comfortable with the workparty culture in my community. I have struggled with the sense of entitlement my community members have in relation to workparties. Nobody will work unless they know there will be food, and everybody is always asking what kind of meat will be bought for the occasion. Looking back on my first month in site I remeber now that one work party never happend because nobody had bought meat for the occasion.
My supposed counterpart has been less than helpful in planning work parties at times. He always just asks me "You bring the money" in the wari-wari english that I barely understand. When I asked him what kind of meat I should buy for the work party he told me I should slaughter a cow. He was being slightly sarcastic, but I think he was hoping I would jump on the idea. So, I continue to struggle with trying to convey that I am not a rich American. I gave a very successful speech the other day about this. I explained that I am a Peace Corps VOLUNTEER, that I have left all options of making money behind in the United States and have chosen to serve this community for the next two years with only enough money to get by. I told them that unlike the government projects they are used to, the Peace Corps comes with no money. That I am not a financial resource but rather a human resource. I come educated and capacitated to look for funds for future projects from potentially all around the world, but that we will seek this together. And amazingly I think this speech really worked. Two nights later my counterpart started talking about how I am a gringo, but a poor gringo. Which really just reinforces my understanding that they have equated gringo with rich. So I hope that this struggle will lessen as I continue to articulate what my role as a volunteer is and bust their misconceptions of Americans.
My home is coming along nicely and I´m working hard to have it ready for Helen´s visit on February 12th. I have the panka roof almost entirely done and am hoping that my woodcutter has finished cutting the wood for the walls, so that "all we need to do" is haul it out of the forest and nail it up. Of course I will still need to hold multiple juntas (workparties) that require making food as the incentive for the men to come. Which I´ve become much more comfortable with after another volunteer and I discussed that helping out with manual labor like this is a day lost to look for food for the family and themselves, and thus, they need food in compensation.
I look so forward to having my own space after 6 months of host families. Being able to cook for myself and have some privacy. When I stand on my new floor and look out at the ocean I feel so content and excited, and I believe this private space will be a wonderful contribution to my effectiveness with the rest of my service. Once my house is done, its all forces ahead to work with the community on what I´m really here to do (improve and educate about water and sanitation).
On an exciting note I helped haul a boat out of the jungle the other day. Incredible! These boats they make here are just hollowed out tree trunks. They weigh a ton and we hauled this one up a huge hill and back down with about 10 people. Enjoying lots of chicha along the way and a dinner at the end (the junta incentive). I can´t believe how much that puppy weighed and it was just a little boat. Sometimes they haul out huge one´s with 40 people.
I can´t get images to load on here so please check out facebook!
Yesterday we did agency visits to get acquainted with potential stakeholders that we could work with throughout our projects with our communities. I continually questioned different agencies about whether they worked in the area of my site location. Playa Balsa sits in a difficult location. Geographically considered in Bocas Del Toro, but politically apart of the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle. It would seem that we should work more with the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle whose headquarters are in San Felix on the Chirique side, but given our distance, they most likely don't even know my community exists. Which is part of my role as a volunteer, trying to get my community more agency recognition.
I have now been in my site for three months and have come to the end of the reserved period of Proyecto Amistad (Project Friendship). I have visited every house multiple times, hauled lots of heavy vegetable bags, thatch roofing, and firewood (engaging in back breaking labor seems to have earned me the most respect among the community), and had three interactive community meetings (consisting of a community map, seasonal caledar, and daily activity schedules). I will present all that I have learned about the community on February 1st with my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director aka Boss) present and engage my community in activities intended to prioritize their desires for the community. It seems clear that they will express wanting a better water system as the first project. But while the communities we work with consistently see the actual infrastructure as our biggest contribution to their communities, we consistently try to promote our lead role as capacity development and education. Pushing the health side of our assignment while recognizing that the infrastructure will ultimately be my legacy.
Most of time over these last weeks have been dedicated toward working on my home. Its been a struggle to understand and feel comfortable with the workparty culture in my community. I have struggled with the sense of entitlement my community members have in relation to workparties. Nobody will work unless they know there will be food, and everybody is always asking what kind of meat will be bought for the occasion. Looking back on my first month in site I remeber now that one work party never happend because nobody had bought meat for the occasion.
My supposed counterpart has been less than helpful in planning work parties at times. He always just asks me "You bring the money" in the wari-wari english that I barely understand. When I asked him what kind of meat I should buy for the work party he told me I should slaughter a cow. He was being slightly sarcastic, but I think he was hoping I would jump on the idea. So, I continue to struggle with trying to convey that I am not a rich American. I gave a very successful speech the other day about this. I explained that I am a Peace Corps VOLUNTEER, that I have left all options of making money behind in the United States and have chosen to serve this community for the next two years with only enough money to get by. I told them that unlike the government projects they are used to, the Peace Corps comes with no money. That I am not a financial resource but rather a human resource. I come educated and capacitated to look for funds for future projects from potentially all around the world, but that we will seek this together. And amazingly I think this speech really worked. Two nights later my counterpart started talking about how I am a gringo, but a poor gringo. Which really just reinforces my understanding that they have equated gringo with rich. So I hope that this struggle will lessen as I continue to articulate what my role as a volunteer is and bust their misconceptions of Americans.
My home is coming along nicely and I´m working hard to have it ready for Helen´s visit on February 12th. I have the panka roof almost entirely done and am hoping that my woodcutter has finished cutting the wood for the walls, so that "all we need to do" is haul it out of the forest and nail it up. Of course I will still need to hold multiple juntas (workparties) that require making food as the incentive for the men to come. Which I´ve become much more comfortable with after another volunteer and I discussed that helping out with manual labor like this is a day lost to look for food for the family and themselves, and thus, they need food in compensation.
I look so forward to having my own space after 6 months of host families. Being able to cook for myself and have some privacy. When I stand on my new floor and look out at the ocean I feel so content and excited, and I believe this private space will be a wonderful contribution to my effectiveness with the rest of my service. Once my house is done, its all forces ahead to work with the community on what I´m really here to do (improve and educate about water and sanitation).
On an exciting note I helped haul a boat out of the jungle the other day. Incredible! These boats they make here are just hollowed out tree trunks. They weigh a ton and we hauled this one up a huge hill and back down with about 10 people. Enjoying lots of chicha along the way and a dinner at the end (the junta incentive). I can´t believe how much that puppy weighed and it was just a little boat. Sometimes they haul out huge one´s with 40 people.
I can´t get images to load on here so please check out facebook!
Monday, January 3, 2011
5 Week Stretch
I´m currently out of site after a five week stretch there. I must say I think it was at least one week two long. A lot of volunteers get out at least for the day to internet or a grocery store every two weeks, but I think three weeks is the ideal. By the time I met up with my friends I was so ready and so happy to see them. To have people to relate to, to process with, and to vent to. Being so cut off from my family and friends, with cell phone reception a hour walk away, and the added difficulty of having enough minutes and battery to talk, makes my site both a blessing and a curse. It´s a very unique and humbleing experience to live so cut off from the world. There is constant moments for reflection, hamaca, and getting closer with my community. But it also must be balanced with my own personal sanity. Which I realize now will require shorter stretches of time in my site without leaving, and more communication via phone. I´m going to try and check my messages once a week so if you wish to leave a message please call 6487-6131. I think this phone number is going to become my primary phone now so please try to reach me there.
My time in site has been very productive and intense. I came back from Thanks Giving after a spout of Giardia and moved into another host family´s home. So for the month of December I was living with one of four community members who actually has a consistent income outside of welfare. It´s a stark difference and only after having the ability to compare December with November was I able to realize just how difficult November had been. Rather than ñame three times a day, I was getting a fried egg with fried bread (oholdra) for breakfast, multiple vegetables for lunch and dinner (though still always too much starch because all vegetables are tubers), and often fish or chicken´s neck or beef. Its funny how chicken´s neck has become a delicacy for me down here so quickly. I had a door with a lock on it, and a wooden bed built off the ground to protect me from the cockroaches-all things I did not have before. I learned to simply pay $10 per week rather than come accross the difficulty I had last month after providing food. And with this arrangement I felt more inclined to buy chicken neck or eggs throughout the month as an extra little gift, rather than being constantly asked for more money-I was able to provide more by choice rather than awkward obligation. I enjoyed nightly cuentas historicas about the jackrabbit tricking the tiger or of the dog, how dogs became man´s best friend, how a dolphin saved a man by taking him on a ride on his back passed out over the course of three days. Many stories my host father asked me to believe without doubting his word, no matter how impossible they sounded. He is a great story teller though and a skilled wood cutter.
I have been accompanying my host father of this month into the jungle to cut the wood for my house. I must say that I fear my house will at least result in 4 large fallen trees to be molded into lumber by Julian´s chainsaw, and then hauled out of the jungle by my community members only with the incentive of coffee and Johney Cakes (bread baked with coconut milk) as reward. Its hard to have every element of help I need for my house require some food offering, but that is simply the culture here. And the work they are doing, I can contest is extremely difficult because I am always right beside them experiencing it first hand.
One of my tougher moments over these weeks occured on Christmas day as I walked through a small town on my way to cell phone reception already feeling homesick and lonely. I saw the casique (chief with very little modern political power) and asked him how he was doing. He said fine but that his kid was sick with a hernia and yellow fever. That the doctor had told him he needed to go to David to get him help but the man explained that there was no money to achieve this. I saw his son sitting there uncomfortable and with the white´s of his eyes yellow and struggled with what I could say, do, or advise. I talked to the dad about how a kid had died in his community 3 months before and how he really needed to do what he could to get his son help. He told me more stories of others who had died from not getting to the doctor and then explained that the health worker he had seen for his son had also recommended candy in exchange for getting him help in David. And over the last week I have tried to explain to him that the candy recommendation was second to real medical help, but he continues to buy candy claiming that its all he can do. In some ways I already find myself becoming slightly aclimated to events such as these. Knowing that I cannot be the one to lend or give the money, nor force kids to wash their hands after pooping, there is a part of me that looks at the state of these people and echos their claim of "this is just how it is." But when I take a step back and explain what I just saw to family or friends, or process these moments with other volunteers it becomes so evident how horrific much of what we are seeing is. That things should not be this way and that change must come. After talking to my mother and reading I believe that this boy did not have yellow fever but more likely Hep A after poop to mouth contamination. Which yet again proves the importance of proper sanitation and hygiene. When I left the family said the boy was getting a little better and I have tried to provide whatever advice I can from my where there is no doctor medical reference book, and will continue to check in on him.
Favorite moment over my entire time living in Playa Balsa was when I went to the finca to harvest with my host brother and sister and met a medical man deep in the jungle who was working on his pineapple plantation. When he saw me he immediately began beaming and smileing largely, signaling for us to come to his home. There his wife worked on making michila (cooked mashed ripe bananas of some sort with coconuut milk). They gave us all michila, me with the largest, drinking from the gord. Everything my host brother explained to me from how Ngabes used to only drink and eat from gords as plates, bowls, and cups, or that the michila was made from maduro platanos cuadrados the husband and wife would immidiately hand me as a gift. " Take this gord, here take these platanos cuadrados, this yampi (purple root vegetable). He showed me what each plant could be used for that were planted around the house and explained to me that he used to live out here before a family member´s baby died out there three years before. So he moved closer into "town." They were the sweetest peoiple and that night I wrote in my journal that if ever I question humanity to remeber the generosity and kindness of these two. It was a beautiful day.
  Making Johney Cakes for Mother's Day  |
| Frame of my home |
My time in site has been very productive and intense. I came back from Thanks Giving after a spout of Giardia and moved into another host family´s home. So for the month of December I was living with one of four community members who actually has a consistent income outside of welfare. It´s a stark difference and only after having the ability to compare December with November was I able to realize just how difficult November had been. Rather than ñame three times a day, I was getting a fried egg with fried bread (oholdra) for breakfast, multiple vegetables for lunch and dinner (though still always too much starch because all vegetables are tubers), and often fish or chicken´s neck or beef. Its funny how chicken´s neck has become a delicacy for me down here so quickly. I had a door with a lock on it, and a wooden bed built off the ground to protect me from the cockroaches-all things I did not have before. I learned to simply pay $10 per week rather than come accross the difficulty I had last month after providing food. And with this arrangement I felt more inclined to buy chicken neck or eggs throughout the month as an extra little gift, rather than being constantly asked for more money-I was able to provide more by choice rather than awkward obligation. I enjoyed nightly cuentas historicas about the jackrabbit tricking the tiger or of the dog, how dogs became man´s best friend, how a dolphin saved a man by taking him on a ride on his back passed out over the course of three days. Many stories my host father asked me to believe without doubting his word, no matter how impossible they sounded. He is a great story teller though and a skilled wood cutter.
 |
| Hauling a 16 foot 4x4 |
 |
| That chainsaw will cut every board of my house |
One of my tougher moments over these weeks occured on Christmas day as I walked through a small town on my way to cell phone reception already feeling homesick and lonely. I saw the casique (chief with very little modern political power) and asked him how he was doing. He said fine but that his kid was sick with a hernia and yellow fever. That the doctor had told him he needed to go to David to get him help but the man explained that there was no money to achieve this. I saw his son sitting there uncomfortable and with the white´s of his eyes yellow and struggled with what I could say, do, or advise. I talked to the dad about how a kid had died in his community 3 months before and how he really needed to do what he could to get his son help. He told me more stories of others who had died from not getting to the doctor and then explained that the health worker he had seen for his son had also recommended candy in exchange for getting him help in David. And over the last week I have tried to explain to him that the candy recommendation was second to real medical help, but he continues to buy candy claiming that its all he can do. In some ways I already find myself becoming slightly aclimated to events such as these. Knowing that I cannot be the one to lend or give the money, nor force kids to wash their hands after pooping, there is a part of me that looks at the state of these people and echos their claim of "this is just how it is." But when I take a step back and explain what I just saw to family or friends, or process these moments with other volunteers it becomes so evident how horrific much of what we are seeing is. That things should not be this way and that change must come. After talking to my mother and reading I believe that this boy did not have yellow fever but more likely Hep A after poop to mouth contamination. Which yet again proves the importance of proper sanitation and hygiene. When I left the family said the boy was getting a little better and I have tried to provide whatever advice I can from my where there is no doctor medical reference book, and will continue to check in on him.
Favorite moment over my entire time living in Playa Balsa was when I went to the finca to harvest with my host brother and sister and met a medical man deep in the jungle who was working on his pineapple plantation. When he saw me he immediately began beaming and smileing largely, signaling for us to come to his home. There his wife worked on making michila (cooked mashed ripe bananas of some sort with coconuut milk). They gave us all michila, me with the largest, drinking from the gord. Everything my host brother explained to me from how Ngabes used to only drink and eat from gords as plates, bowls, and cups, or that the michila was made from maduro platanos cuadrados the husband and wife would immidiately hand me as a gift. " Take this gord, here take these platanos cuadrados, this yampi (purple root vegetable). He showed me what each plant could be used for that were planted around the house and explained to me that he used to live out here before a family member´s baby died out there three years before. So he moved closer into "town." They were the sweetest peoiple and that night I wrote in my journal that if ever I question humanity to remeber the generosity and kindness of these two. It was a beautiful day.
 |
Making Michila |
Friday, November 26, 2010
Challenges and Successes
My December Home
Little Cutie
Hauling Panka
Swear in was an amazing experience and President Martinelli actually gave a very genuine speech on the spot. The days after were spent on the beach trying to soak up my peers´ presence before separation, and perhaps led to my immune system taking a beating (more on that soon). For some reason I decided to punish myself upon entering my site and rather than getting a boat ride directly to my site I decided to get dropped off at La Ensenada because I knew that I would be using that comunidad to leave my peninsula and thought I should learn the trail. Bad idea! With three large bags containing groceries and my possessions I ventured through an extremely muddy path laden with a few boards to tight rope walk in an effort to not have mud up to your thigh. My tight rope walking skills were not nearly developed enough to not find myself constantly stuck in the mud trying to get my chacos up an out of the mud without dropping the three bags. But soon I heard the ocean and found myself half way there before having to cross another similar stretch. By the time I got to my new home I was covered in mud, tired and not feeling too hot. I entered the home to find a visitor from another community there aggressively flirting with me as I slumped against the wall, halfway lying on the floor, not wanting to do anything other than sleep. This feeling remained for next two weeks as I was hit with an intense cold as it rained consecutively for a week straight. Three days into site I developed an ear infection that is still giving me trouble and resulted in me having to leave site two weeks in to go to David (a six hour one way travel endeavor) for better medicine than my centro de salud could offer. Being so remote makes it difficult to want to leave but it was a good lesson that I need to be a little less stubborn and take better care of my health.
But throughout these three weeks I´ve been able to have some truly incredible experiences and earned some people´s initial respect by doing manual labor and pasearing (visiting houses). Whether it is carrying panka as the ocean pounds against me and trys to take me away, working in the finca, or carrying firewood through what feels like unbearable distances at the time, I´ve come to learn the incredible strength of my community. Each time after hauling panka or firewood, I would be exhausted, so grateful to be done with the treacherous trip, only to find out that we were going to do it again. But this is all apart of proyecto amistad, earning the people´s confianza. One of my better moments was pasearing at a community members home name Isaac. He is a 4´10´´ man, buff, and fierce. Supposedly with a voice of a howler monkey when it come to salomaring (a type of call used in the campo-spelling probably is not correct, especially since in spanglish). But after I interviewed him about who he was related to, the education of his family, the health of his family, politics, and the like, I asked him if he had any hopes or desires for me and the kind of work I would do over the next two years. He told me that he has a tendency to get angry but that he is a man of god and must hold his temper. But that I have brought nothing but contentment and happiness to his life since I have come into the community. That seeing me work beside them, visiting house to house, and trying to gain his community’s trust will result in him helping me every step of the way throughout my time there. Whether building my house or trying to work with the community on water or sanitation. I can’t even begin to explain how rewarding it was to hear a man of this caliber express his gratitude towards me and the method of Peace Corps.
There have other hard moments. Like me bringing food to contribute to the family for the month and watching it get consumed in two days. I was then continually asked for money to buy rice and other simple cooking supplies everyday until I finally said I could no longer do that. The difficulty is the poverty is so real, all they want to buy is rice, but I also must draw a line between what I can provide financially to try and destroy the myth that Peace Corps comes with tons of money, that every gringo is rich. I have a huge money sign on my forehead and yet continually I try to explain that I am not wealthy and that inequality exists in my country as much as it does in their own. But then there is some degree to which no matter which way you spin it I am so much more economically privileged than they are. I mean there are 13 living in my home right now not including myself, one night getting up to 18 with more children and grandchildren visiting. That is a lot of mouths to feed. So we eat mostly boiled name (a tuber) and buchu (young small bananas) with a little bit of salt and sometimes coconut, and believe me it is not that glamorous. But then sometimes they catch delicious fish or kill a duck or chicken. But when there isn´t meat of any kind everybody in town answers the question Ma ba no (how are you) with: there is no meat, so not too good.
Language is a whole other problem. I know so rarely what is going on and groups rarely translate things into Spanish for me. But I´m teaching English class on Sundays with the idea of them trying to help me with ngabere. To be honest there is so much to say but I think I will stop it there for fear of this blog becoming too long.
If anyone is interested in writing I would love to correspond. My new address is
Charles Walker
David, Chiriqui
Entrega General
0426
Panama, Rep de Panama Much love. Thank you so much for the support. It’s nice to know that you all are out there sending me love.
Until next time.
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Site Visit
Last week I met my community counterpart for the first time. It was an exciting moment that could potentially shape the next two years of my life. One which I will certainly always remember, and one which I came away with feeling like luck was on my side.
Peace Corps Panama had asked all communities who were to receive a volunteer to send a representative to a town called Farallon where they would meet their volunteer (us) and get a small workshop explaining the work of Environmental Health (EH) and Peace Corps. Having community members leave their home and venture to a town they have likely never heard of to pick up their volunteer is honestly a tall order. For this reason 5 of my EH friends were without volunteers the first day. One community all together decided that they didn't want a volunteer, one volunteer's community guide showed up a day late, and the other three were taken into the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle to visit their communities and make sure they were still interested (which they all were). In most situations their has been some breakdown in communication, bad weather, or more often than not, they were just scared.
One important distinction to make is the difference between the community guide and counterpart. Whoever showed up to pick up their community´s volunteer is the ¨community guide,¨ but this person could or could not be or become your ¨counterpart.¨ Your counterpart is someone who the volunteer recognizes as a leader in the community. Someone who can help me organize the community, put on workshops, and ultimately assist me in bring water and sanitation to the community. I am lucky to say that I recognized my community guide as my counterpart.
His name is Opidio. He is a humble and honest man. When I asked him what he did for a living he told me that he built boats but that it rarely provided enough income to feed his family. I asked him how much he sold his boats for and he told me that he tries to sell the large ones for hunting turtles (more on this soon) for $50 dollars but that he must understand that his people are humble like himself and often will only be allowed to pay him payments of $15 over the course of sometimes years. When we watched baseball on a large screen in the complex at Farallon that the Peace Corps was renting for us for the night he told me that he had never seen baseball on tv before. When he saw the book I was reading (One hundred years of solitude) and I asked him if he liked to read novels he told me he had never seen a book like that before. This was one of the few times he had left his province. He admitted that he was scared to come find me and over my five day visit we often joked about how he had tried to call his mother during his trip, how she never got the message, and she told me that she stayed up all night worried about him. Now mother´s worrying even when their son is 45 isn´t really that uncommon even in the states (at least in my family). But I guess I bring all this up because it is a reflection of the size of my community´s world. Its a small world. One where most of the family lives within a two hour hike. There is very little there. The education is minimal and mostly ineffective. For god´s sake, I´m there to help them have clean water and a place to use the bathroom. If that isn´t a reflection of their circumstance I don´t know what is.
The place is beautiful though and the people are kind, hilarious, and hard working (well at least for a beach community). They are excited to have me there. Everybody greets me with huge smiles and tries to converse with me in Ngabere. I can say simple phrases like how are you, what is your name, answer those questions, and I even gave a short presentation about my self in ngabere. For the most part though I just listen to a language from another world, hear the word gringo every now and again followed by laughter and I smile and laugh with them. After my introduction there was also a 15 minute comical debate about what to name me. Although Opidio´s grandfather had named me Choda after a founder of the comunity, when my EH volunteer friends heard this name they laughed because of its similarity to an english slang word. And for some reason the community also felt like I had been named without btheir consent, so I am now Sili Cruomü, still named after a founder and my last name is the name of the town in Ngabere. Opidio is still sad that I{m not named after his relative. The elderly and women speak little Spanish and nobody converses in Spanish if not talking to me. Í feel lucky to know as much Spanish as I do, but its obvious to me that part of earning my community´s trust and respect will be accomplished by me learning their language.
Respect and trust are the words I will be seeking for the next three months, to ensure the success of the next two years. As my APCD likes to call it we are beginning ¨Proyecto Amistad¨ (project friendship). In changing people´s behavior in relation to very personal acts such as using the bathroom, it absolutely behooves me to become as much apart of the community as I can. That is why I will be living with three different families over the course of the next three months, going house to house, and trying to understand the needs, desires, and abilities of my community. The next three months will also be an opportunity for me to put on interactive workshops where the community collectively maps out their village, writes out their average day, and makes a seasonal calendar. And eventually I will trying to get my community to do a needs assessment that hopefully concludes with their desire to undertake water and sanitation projects but also teaches the tool of how to recognize the desires of a community and puts them into action.
Already I have witnessed the promise of my community. Opidio building me my own latrine because of his embarrassment that they poop in the creek is a reflection of their awareness that pooping in the creek isn´t a very good thing and that they desire to do otherwise. As John F. Kennedy wrote out in the Peace Corps three missions, technical support is only one aspect of the Peace Corps, the other two are simply cultural exchange in hopes of creating lasting international peace. We´ve discussed religion, the causes of poverty worldwide, and debated their hunting of sea turtles. A difficult topic when they have been doing it for centuries without any declining populations and use it for subsistence, while the plight of sea turtles have really been largely caused by large fishing boat´s nets not having TEDs (turtle exclusion devices). But I am excited about all the work I have before me, the beauty that I will be surrounded by over the next two years, and the openness and enthusiasm of my counterpart and community.
I´m very isolated and communicating with friends and family will certainly be missed. Every three weeks I will leave to buy groceries and communicate with work, family and friends. I recently bought a cell phone so please email me if you are interested in having that number. Until then I wish everyone a wonderful few weeks. I will be officially sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer this Thursday and will be meeting the President of Panama, Ricardo Martinelli, so lets hope I don´t trip or something.
Peace Corps Panama had asked all communities who were to receive a volunteer to send a representative to a town called Farallon where they would meet their volunteer (us) and get a small workshop explaining the work of Environmental Health (EH) and Peace Corps. Having community members leave their home and venture to a town they have likely never heard of to pick up their volunteer is honestly a tall order. For this reason 5 of my EH friends were without volunteers the first day. One community all together decided that they didn't want a volunteer, one volunteer's community guide showed up a day late, and the other three were taken into the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle to visit their communities and make sure they were still interested (which they all were). In most situations their has been some breakdown in communication, bad weather, or more often than not, they were just scared.
One important distinction to make is the difference between the community guide and counterpart. Whoever showed up to pick up their community´s volunteer is the ¨community guide,¨ but this person could or could not be or become your ¨counterpart.¨ Your counterpart is someone who the volunteer recognizes as a leader in the community. Someone who can help me organize the community, put on workshops, and ultimately assist me in bring water and sanitation to the community. I am lucky to say that I recognized my community guide as my counterpart.
His name is Opidio. He is a humble and honest man. When I asked him what he did for a living he told me that he built boats but that it rarely provided enough income to feed his family. I asked him how much he sold his boats for and he told me that he tries to sell the large ones for hunting turtles (more on this soon) for $50 dollars but that he must understand that his people are humble like himself and often will only be allowed to pay him payments of $15 over the course of sometimes years. When we watched baseball on a large screen in the complex at Farallon that the Peace Corps was renting for us for the night he told me that he had never seen baseball on tv before. When he saw the book I was reading (One hundred years of solitude) and I asked him if he liked to read novels he told me he had never seen a book like that before. This was one of the few times he had left his province. He admitted that he was scared to come find me and over my five day visit we often joked about how he had tried to call his mother during his trip, how she never got the message, and she told me that she stayed up all night worried about him. Now mother´s worrying even when their son is 45 isn´t really that uncommon even in the states (at least in my family). But I guess I bring all this up because it is a reflection of the size of my community´s world. Its a small world. One where most of the family lives within a two hour hike. There is very little there. The education is minimal and mostly ineffective. For god´s sake, I´m there to help them have clean water and a place to use the bathroom. If that isn´t a reflection of their circumstance I don´t know what is.
The place is beautiful though and the people are kind, hilarious, and hard working (well at least for a beach community). They are excited to have me there. Everybody greets me with huge smiles and tries to converse with me in Ngabere. I can say simple phrases like how are you, what is your name, answer those questions, and I even gave a short presentation about my self in ngabere. For the most part though I just listen to a language from another world, hear the word gringo every now and again followed by laughter and I smile and laugh with them. After my introduction there was also a 15 minute comical debate about what to name me. Although Opidio´s grandfather had named me Choda after a founder of the comunity, when my EH volunteer friends heard this name they laughed because of its similarity to an english slang word. And for some reason the community also felt like I had been named without btheir consent, so I am now Sili Cruomü, still named after a founder and my last name is the name of the town in Ngabere. Opidio is still sad that I{m not named after his relative. The elderly and women speak little Spanish and nobody converses in Spanish if not talking to me. Í feel lucky to know as much Spanish as I do, but its obvious to me that part of earning my community´s trust and respect will be accomplished by me learning their language.
Respect and trust are the words I will be seeking for the next three months, to ensure the success of the next two years. As my APCD likes to call it we are beginning ¨Proyecto Amistad¨ (project friendship). In changing people´s behavior in relation to very personal acts such as using the bathroom, it absolutely behooves me to become as much apart of the community as I can. That is why I will be living with three different families over the course of the next three months, going house to house, and trying to understand the needs, desires, and abilities of my community. The next three months will also be an opportunity for me to put on interactive workshops where the community collectively maps out their village, writes out their average day, and makes a seasonal calendar. And eventually I will trying to get my community to do a needs assessment that hopefully concludes with their desire to undertake water and sanitation projects but also teaches the tool of how to recognize the desires of a community and puts them into action.
Already I have witnessed the promise of my community. Opidio building me my own latrine because of his embarrassment that they poop in the creek is a reflection of their awareness that pooping in the creek isn´t a very good thing and that they desire to do otherwise. As John F. Kennedy wrote out in the Peace Corps three missions, technical support is only one aspect of the Peace Corps, the other two are simply cultural exchange in hopes of creating lasting international peace. We´ve discussed religion, the causes of poverty worldwide, and debated their hunting of sea turtles. A difficult topic when they have been doing it for centuries without any declining populations and use it for subsistence, while the plight of sea turtles have really been largely caused by large fishing boat´s nets not having TEDs (turtle exclusion devices). But I am excited about all the work I have before me, the beauty that I will be surrounded by over the next two years, and the openness and enthusiasm of my counterpart and community.
I´m very isolated and communicating with friends and family will certainly be missed. Every three weeks I will leave to buy groceries and communicate with work, family and friends. I recently bought a cell phone so please email me if you are interested in having that number. Until then I wish everyone a wonderful few weeks. I will be officially sworn in as a Peace Corps Volunteer this Thursday and will be meeting the President of Panama, Ricardo Martinelli, so lets hope I don´t trip or something.
Friday, October 1, 2010
Training and Site Placement
Bienvenidos a todos!
I´m trying this blog world out while working here in Panama with the Peace Corps. I´m hoping to use this blog for more of the development work and cultural exchange side of my work here and reserve personal emails for more personal conversations.
For the last six weeks I have been living with a host family in the town of Rio Congo near Chorrera (about an hour and a half west of Panama City). Twenty other volunteers and I make up group 66 of Peace Corps Panama. We are currently Peace Corps Trainees on our 10 week route to become Peace Corps Volunteers. Our mission, if we choice to accept it, is to educate rural and indigenous communities about water and sanitation while also assisting them to provide small scale infrastructural improvements to their communities. In the last six weeks I have learned to build composting and pit latrines, repair aqueducts, the basics if gravity fed water systems, and how to educate adults effectively about improving their health in relation to water and sanitation.
I have been very pleased with the Peace Corps´ promotion and conceptualization of sustainable development. I find it funny that many of the critiques aimed at the Peace Corps and I myself was guilty of consisted of a fear that they came into communities without cultural sensitivity and ¨pushed¨ US ways of doing things onto others. Some form of cultural imperialism. Unable to realize the brillance and resourcefulness of the campesinos themselves. Or that we came into communities with an agenda and didn´t really address the desires of the people. This my friends is everything Peace Corps tries to avoid. We have had countless classes on how to access the needs of a community. Our first three months are dedicated to our community analysis or ¨proyecto amistdad¨ (friendship project) as my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director: aka my boss) likes to call it. This time is spent getting to know the entire community, learning their way of life, their skills, their talents, and addressing those areas where they could use some help. Our number one desire is to destroy paternalism and build upon passionate community leaders skills to help communities help themselves.
In my time here I have traveled to the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle (Comarca´s are similar to U.S. Indian Reservations-land dedicated to indigenous communities to repay lands lost during colonization) for a volunteer visit of five days where I witnessed devastating poverty that consisted of babies with blown out bellies from worms and dirt floored homes for six to eight the size of my bedroom for one back in the States. This poverty was accompanied by extremely hard working, generous, and kind people. The Ngabe (or Ngobe depending on the publication) originally inhabited the Pacific Coastal lands but were slowly pushed up into the mountains and over to the Caribbean Sea by the Spanish and Mestizos. Older generations speak Ngabere but the children have lost contact with the language due to their schools only teaching English and Spanish. Two years ago one of our language professors published the first written account of the Ngabere language and this year marked a pilot project to bring Ngabere into some Comarca classrooms. The success of this will most likely be dependent on Ngabe people actually teaching this subject, which is difficult given that many Ngabe communities have trouble paying for their children´s transport to school. During my site visit a very bright boy that was my volunteer´s counterpart´s son had just finished middle school but given the distance to high school he was left at home to help his father with the farm. Effectively, many Ngabes don´t make it beyond a sixth grade education.
A week ago I returned from the Darien (the jungle area between Panama and Columbia: impassable) where my group and I spent 10 days building two composting latrines, two pit latrines, two new tap stands, fixing pipes, understanding gravity fed water systems in the field, and engaging in cultural exchange by living with a host family. The community was called Pueblo Nuevo and was an Embera-Wounaan community. Although two large Comarcas were created for these people recently, many have lived in their communities for over 30 years and weren´t about to leave the easy access of the Panamerican Highway to enter the jungle and have rights to their land. Consquently the government allows Embera-Wounaan people living in the so called ¨collective lands¨ no private property rights and live with only a titled lease to their community and the inability to access loans by using their property as collateral. My family was a Wounaan family are were generous and kind beyond belief. My saddest moment however was learning late at night that the three children in my family went to bed hungry after my fellow volunteer and I had already eaten. The projects we did in Pueblo Nuevo are the antithesis of Peace Corps promotion of sustainable development as I´m sure all your critical minds have noticed, but their was a volunteer in the community who worked to provide the infrastructure to those most in need and who will spend her remaining two years educating the community about their proper use and maintenance. However, this does not make it entirely sustainable and acts much more as a training exercise for us to bring the skills we will need to our respective communities.
That said, onto today´s news: my site placement. If you go to google maps and type in Bocas del toro panama you back up a bit you will see a bunch of islands in the south and to the east and then a peninsula jetting out from the east. At the top of the peninsula is Kusapin, a two hour hike from there will bring you to my community of Playa Balsa going down the peninsula on the Caribbean side. My main access point will be Chiriqui Grande. I´ll take a two hour boat ride from there. I´m officially in the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle but my region is much more similar to Bocas del Toro. My spot is reported to be gorgeous. White sandy beaches, turquoise waters, spearfishing under water, and good surf. My community has never worked with an agency so they were extremely excited when the Peace Corps showed up for their multiple site development visits when they said they would, and are supposedly very eager to start on composting latrines and improve their aqueduct system and potentially start collecting rain to drink. I have no available cell phone access and Internet is a two hour boat ride away in Chiriqui grande so although this email is extremely long, there will be relatively few.
I hope everyone´s life is going well and thank you for being my teachers, friends, and inspiration.
I´m stoked!
I´m trying this blog world out while working here in Panama with the Peace Corps. I´m hoping to use this blog for more of the development work and cultural exchange side of my work here and reserve personal emails for more personal conversations.
For the last six weeks I have been living with a host family in the town of Rio Congo near Chorrera (about an hour and a half west of Panama City). Twenty other volunteers and I make up group 66 of Peace Corps Panama. We are currently Peace Corps Trainees on our 10 week route to become Peace Corps Volunteers. Our mission, if we choice to accept it, is to educate rural and indigenous communities about water and sanitation while also assisting them to provide small scale infrastructural improvements to their communities. In the last six weeks I have learned to build composting and pit latrines, repair aqueducts, the basics if gravity fed water systems, and how to educate adults effectively about improving their health in relation to water and sanitation.
I have been very pleased with the Peace Corps´ promotion and conceptualization of sustainable development. I find it funny that many of the critiques aimed at the Peace Corps and I myself was guilty of consisted of a fear that they came into communities without cultural sensitivity and ¨pushed¨ US ways of doing things onto others. Some form of cultural imperialism. Unable to realize the brillance and resourcefulness of the campesinos themselves. Or that we came into communities with an agenda and didn´t really address the desires of the people. This my friends is everything Peace Corps tries to avoid. We have had countless classes on how to access the needs of a community. Our first three months are dedicated to our community analysis or ¨proyecto amistdad¨ (friendship project) as my APCD (Associate Peace Corps Director: aka my boss) likes to call it. This time is spent getting to know the entire community, learning their way of life, their skills, their talents, and addressing those areas where they could use some help. Our number one desire is to destroy paternalism and build upon passionate community leaders skills to help communities help themselves.
In my time here I have traveled to the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle (Comarca´s are similar to U.S. Indian Reservations-land dedicated to indigenous communities to repay lands lost during colonization) for a volunteer visit of five days where I witnessed devastating poverty that consisted of babies with blown out bellies from worms and dirt floored homes for six to eight the size of my bedroom for one back in the States. This poverty was accompanied by extremely hard working, generous, and kind people. The Ngabe (or Ngobe depending on the publication) originally inhabited the Pacific Coastal lands but were slowly pushed up into the mountains and over to the Caribbean Sea by the Spanish and Mestizos. Older generations speak Ngabere but the children have lost contact with the language due to their schools only teaching English and Spanish. Two years ago one of our language professors published the first written account of the Ngabere language and this year marked a pilot project to bring Ngabere into some Comarca classrooms. The success of this will most likely be dependent on Ngabe people actually teaching this subject, which is difficult given that many Ngabe communities have trouble paying for their children´s transport to school. During my site visit a very bright boy that was my volunteer´s counterpart´s son had just finished middle school but given the distance to high school he was left at home to help his father with the farm. Effectively, many Ngabes don´t make it beyond a sixth grade education.
A week ago I returned from the Darien (the jungle area between Panama and Columbia: impassable) where my group and I spent 10 days building two composting latrines, two pit latrines, two new tap stands, fixing pipes, understanding gravity fed water systems in the field, and engaging in cultural exchange by living with a host family. The community was called Pueblo Nuevo and was an Embera-Wounaan community. Although two large Comarcas were created for these people recently, many have lived in their communities for over 30 years and weren´t about to leave the easy access of the Panamerican Highway to enter the jungle and have rights to their land. Consquently the government allows Embera-Wounaan people living in the so called ¨collective lands¨ no private property rights and live with only a titled lease to their community and the inability to access loans by using their property as collateral. My family was a Wounaan family are were generous and kind beyond belief. My saddest moment however was learning late at night that the three children in my family went to bed hungry after my fellow volunteer and I had already eaten. The projects we did in Pueblo Nuevo are the antithesis of Peace Corps promotion of sustainable development as I´m sure all your critical minds have noticed, but their was a volunteer in the community who worked to provide the infrastructure to those most in need and who will spend her remaining two years educating the community about their proper use and maintenance. However, this does not make it entirely sustainable and acts much more as a training exercise for us to bring the skills we will need to our respective communities.
That said, onto today´s news: my site placement. If you go to google maps and type in Bocas del toro panama you back up a bit you will see a bunch of islands in the south and to the east and then a peninsula jetting out from the east. At the top of the peninsula is Kusapin, a two hour hike from there will bring you to my community of Playa Balsa going down the peninsula on the Caribbean side. My main access point will be Chiriqui Grande. I´ll take a two hour boat ride from there. I´m officially in the Comarca Ngabe-Bugle but my region is much more similar to Bocas del Toro. My spot is reported to be gorgeous. White sandy beaches, turquoise waters, spearfishing under water, and good surf. My community has never worked with an agency so they were extremely excited when the Peace Corps showed up for their multiple site development visits when they said they would, and are supposedly very eager to start on composting latrines and improve their aqueduct system and potentially start collecting rain to drink. I have no available cell phone access and Internet is a two hour boat ride away in Chiriqui grande so although this email is extremely long, there will be relatively few.
I hope everyone´s life is going well and thank you for being my teachers, friends, and inspiration.
I´m stoked!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)