Development

I left Panama yesterday in a teary bus ride. As I start my journey home and reflect on the experiences of the past two years, I want to leave you with some inspiration. Remember the Indiana Jones-style footbridge that crossed a raging river to get to the local school? Well, after lots of angry antidotes from the PCV in the area and a few protests by the local people, the big-wigs in Panama City were able to spare a few dollars from the multi-million dollar metro project to put up a better foot bridge for the community. 

Development happens. Things get better, easier. There is hope.

Old Bridge

Neeeew Bridge

Old. New.

Old Bridge from New Bridge. 

The Soccer Team

The past two years I've played on my community's womens soccer team. Last season we won the league. This season, we got second (out of two teams!). Playing soccer with the women has been one of the greatest bonding experiences I've had - and the most fun. The usually shy women, take off their long dresses and put on soccer cleats and play rough-and-tough soccer in the mud, in front of crowds of people. 

These photos are from the last game in the 2013 season. It was dirty and we lost, but the most fun I've had maybe ever here. 

The girls and our team manager, Carlos

Hennessy, the other white girl, is a newer Peace Corps volunteer. She hiked three hours just to play in this game. I'm happy to know she'll be around for the next two years after I leave. 

The celebration dinner was, of course, rice and chicken feet. 

Confessions

I'm not proud of everything I've done in the past two years. Never the less, I own it all. Here are some things with which I've finally come to terms.

5. "Laughter is the best medicine, unless you have diarrhea"

I pooped my pants after living with a host family during a technical week of training. It was the last morning, all I had to do was pack and walk up a giant hill to leave. I got ready, put on my backpack, and was about ready to leave when it slipped out. I was very sick, this wasn't normal behavior. 

4. I once ate an entire bag of Trader Joes chocolate-covered-peanut-butter-filled pretzels in a day. That's 2,383 calories... delicious calories.

3. I kept a 28 oz cup by my bed. I peed in it every morning and every night, and sometimes during the day. I peed in a cup because I was too lazy to walk 100 feet to the latrine OR it was raining OR I was afraid of spiders/cockroaches/whatever lives in latrine at night. 

If it was raining or no one was around my house I immediately tossed the pee out the window. If not, I'd wait. Sometimes it overflowed, and a few times I knocked it over. Thankfully I had a dirt floor. 

 

2. I mis-labeled the names of two European countries on my world map. I didn't correct it, because I figured they'd never know any different. 

1. For the first month in my community I was living with a host family who didn't have a latrine. Every day I went into the woods and pooped then kicked dirt on top of it. One time I was bathing (concrete slab with a bucket of water and curtains) and I was overcome with the urge to poop, so I did, and then flung it away. That might be the grossest thing I have ever done. 

Thank Yous

My Peace Corps service is wrapping up in less than three weeks. The US government is shut down, but we're still on the clock. Our measly living stipend doesn't worry the lawmakers. Back in 2011 when government cutbacks were sweeping through and I was just in training here in Panama, we nervously asked if Peace Corps might be cut out as a non-essential function. We were told the annual budget of Peace Corps world-wide was less than the cost of one F-16 fighter jet, of which the US military has 4,500, so we weren't worried.

Whenever I am involved in some way with an argument or discussion among community members I remind them,

            "Mira, soy una voluntaria de Cuerpo de Paz, no Cuerpo de guerra"

In Spanish, Peace Corps translates to "Body of Peace". I tell them, "Look, I'm a Peace Corps volunteer, not war corps". I'm no stereotypical hippie and my blood will always run red, white, and blue - but sometimes it's nice to be abroad when everyone is acting-a-fool. 

This isn't my last blog, I just want to give some shout outs to people who have supported me throughout my time here.

Anyone who had ever sent me a card or letter, Thanks. Old fashioned mail is underused in this electronic generation, and being here reminds me how awesome it feels to get something from the post-man. Reading mundane updates from home was soothing and reminders to "carry a big stick" showed how much you care.

Did you send me a care package? Thank-you. Sometimes it took three months to arrive, sometimes the ants had eaten all of the candy. I know it's not cheap to ship overseas, thanks for understanding that to me it was priceless to hold a bit of home. My first couple months I received a lot of soap. I think people assumed I was smelly. And I'm still using the popcorn that I was sent when I blogged about trying to pop the local corn! I've gotten granola bars and chocolate-covered-peanut butter-filled pretzels, tooth brushes and new, clean (not moldy) clothes. Fancy shampoo, and toys for the kids. My first Christmas after being here five months I walked away from the post office loaded down with boxes. All of it. Awesome.

If you donated money to one of the projects I talked about, Thanks. I've already said it, but you're making a forever-impact for basic necessities of fellow humans.

Did you come visit me? Did you get bit up by mosquitoes? Did I take you on a two day hike over a mountain range to attend an indigenous festival? That one time, there was no toilet paper. You used a latrine. Bathed in the creek. Rode the bus and in the back of the truck with me, got rained on, ate so much rice. You really know what it's like, and that's unique. Thanks for the company and for being so adventurous! 

Have you thought about me? Shot off a quick e-mail? Sent up a prayer? The emotional challenges have been the toughest, and just knowing I have people at home thinking about me means the world. Most Panamanians can't comprehend a single, young, female leaving her entire family to come alone to work in a foreign country. Unheard of. I used to be asked a lot if I were sad. My robotic response was always, "No! I'm on the adventure of my life!" until one day my friend in my community, Melba, told me "Really? Because if I left everyone I ever knew and went someplace completely new, I'd be sad. No doubt". So I admitted, I was a little sad at first. And the struggles constantly popped up. But now this place is my home and these people are like family, and I'm going to be sad to leave.