Striking Farmers and Chile

My most legitimate Peace Corps experience yet occurred this past weekend. I traveled to visit a volunteer in her site in the region of Bocas del Torro. We spend the long weekend relaxing, cooking food with vegetables and flavor, reading, and pasear-ing (Spanish- to "pass time" socially with neighbors. An art here in Panama, done daily. There is no US equivalent that would not be imposing or offensive to an ordinary person). I took the rustic living to a whole new level by bathing and washing my clothes in the creek. I am very excited to live on my own and have time to do things like:

-build a composting latrine
-plant a garden
-build a rainwater catchment system and "plumbing"
-do general low budget home maintenance, like building shelves and digging water diversion ditches

The trip to Bocas from Panama City is about 12 hours long and is broken up by two public bus rides separated by the city of David. Spending the night in David at the Peace Corps volunteer hub of a hotel is the most common practice. At any given time you might bump into a volunteer at Hotel T, your insta-friend given the camaraderie of being a gringo. Naturally we convened in David and planned to head out in the morning... but the farmers would have none of it. It was inflated market prices, or hyper-regulation, or damaging subsidies, or who knows what that caused the farmers to block the entrance and exit to the city with their semi trucks and tractors, but there we sat. On our bus, for two hours. Things didn't get better and we eventually turned our giant bus around and got back to the terminal where we were met with a fury of confusion. The bus would  leave when the road was clear, our tickets were still good for that bus... unless they sell your seat again. Then, when there are no more seats you get to ride in the bed cubbyhole compartment like this girl (all thumbs point to me). If you ever take a 7 hour bus ride, give up the light of day for the bed underneath the bus, it's definitely only way I travel. 

As the commotion of traffic passed by the seemingly thin, windowless aluminum wall that was was side of the bus nearest to me, I pondered at each honking horn if it was an impending collision or just a friendly "hey, I'm passing you" that Panamanians drivers are so keen on. All hyped up on coffee I laid in my cozy nook and read a book, Travels in a Thin Country: A Journey Through Chile by Sara Wheeler (Thanks, Leslie!) This journalists beautiful account of an intimate longitudinal traverse of Chile felt close to me as I was, and still am, a wanderer of Latin American countries myself. I was encouraged by her independent spirit and the way she built friendships with strangers. Her writing harmonized with my sentiments about being away from home in her statement, "I could go for weeks without feeling melancholy or lonely-- months on occasion; I lived off emotional reserves like a hibernating animal lives off its fat. But a small thing could promote a fit of grief. I might look at the date on a calendar, or hear a few bars of a piece of music, or sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night with a start, imagining a close friend was in the room". 

Things that will make tomorrow morning great:

1) hot shower
2) shaving my legs
3) shameless guilty pleasure latte on my way to the office

and tomorrow night a triumphal return to my host family in the campo. Buenas!