Contact Information: Update

If you wish to send me correspondence via regular old fashioned mail consider the following...

For letters and envelopes (large and small) send to:

Erica Jones
Entrega General
San Felix, Chiriqui
Republica de Panama

For any size box send to:

Erica Jones
Entrega General
David, Chiriqui
Republica de Panama

Thanks! If you take the time to send me something- I truly appreciate you!

Thanksgiving Like Never Before

"Saca mi photo?"

The technology of digital cameras is incredibly novel in poor areas of the world, my Comarca included. The kids love to pose, and then immediately run to the opposite side of the camera to take a look. I suppose for a people who don't ever look in mirrors a photo of themselves would be a pretty special occasion.


Most host family was excited to get a photo of their abuela (grandmother). She's awful old, although no one knows quite how old. They are definitely under the impression that she could go at any moment because it has been imperative that I get a photo of her to remember. To prepare for the photo she donned her prettiest nagwa, brushed her hair, and to top it all off... dabbed on some perfume. My friend cleverly told me, "...for the scratch-and-sniff photo". I guess the prettier you feel the better you look?

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. I came into the city on Wednesday to celebrate with my Peace Corps friends. As I watched the mud and depravity swirl down the drain under the hot water of my shower I was appreciative in a new way for simple things. Our makeshift celebration included watching football at an empty casino bar and Argentinean food for dinner. Not quite home, but being around other Americans was quintessential.


Occasionally I feel guilty for being reminiscent of home. This is your job, Erica. Missing home is a sign of weakness. My neighbor Melba asked me the other day if I were sad here in Duima. I didn't lie when I told her I was content. She said, "If I were away from my family like you it would bother me a lot". I'm not a super human - and with such a dramatic shift in culture Melba definitely comforted me with demonstrating our kinship by way of human nature.

Our pig had piglets. Want a tidbit of trivia to impress your friends at your next cocktail party? Pig, in the language indigenous to the Ngabe people of Panama, Ngabere, is mudu.


It was requested of me to supply some photos of where I live, my dwelling space and community. So, here we are.

Snapshots

Hello from Duima! A lot has happened in the past two week - yet at the same time not much at all. My life has slowed down dramatically. It has been the change in culture that I have been looking forward to. I spend my days with people, talking, sitting, playing. I read a lot and am learning to speak an ancient language. My feet are constantly caked with mud and I bathe from a bucket - this is my life now! I'm learning to enjoy it. It hasn't been culture shock but more like slipping into a cold shower - an adaptation and something that is eventually refreshing. Here are some clips from my past two weeks. 

Fall Everywhere

If I’ve talked to you personally in the past month, I’ve probably lamented to you about how much I loathed missing the autumn season. Green Bluff in Spokane, the beautiful colors in Houghton, the rainy days and pumpkin spice lattes of home. Well, I found a little bit of fall in tropical Panama, as well.

Corn in part of subsistent living here. They eat it fresh, they eat it dry, always ground up. Fried into empanadas or cooked into juice, they just don’t go without it. One afternoon turned evening I spend time with the family I live with desgrainando the dried corn from the husk. Think, shucking. I methodically rubbed my fingers hard over the kernels until they loosened from their place and fell off, and did so until my fingers were blistered. I loved the mindless work as a way to pass the time. I sat silent mostly listening to the chatter of the women around me. I noticed, too, the wonderful color of dried corn. The red, yellow, gold and orange tones that overtook the husks and then laid in mounds at my feet once removed. It felt like fall. Every once in a while I’d pop a kernel into my mouth to gnaw on. I realized how remarkably similar the flavor of candy corn is to actual corn! You probably won’t get the same effect from a kernel from your bag of popping corn, I think the secret is in the freshness.

Finally, the cooler temperatures and rainy weather of our wet season do make some leaves fall. One day as I was playing soccer with some children I noticed the crunch of the leaves beneath their feet and the sun felt crisp on my face. It felt good.

Coffee and I are on speaking terms again.

I had come to spend the afternoon with one of my neighbors when I saw she was sitting with a large plate of coffee beans, manually removing the skins. Finally, someone who makes their own coffee! I was so excited. I helped her finish pillaring then watched as she roasted the beans on her three stone fogon fire. The beans changed from a light tan to a deep brown.  As she left the beans cool the hut filled with the aroma of coffee. If I closed my eyes I could have been in Olympia Coffee Roasters, or Batdorf and Bronson, or any other of my favorite fine coffee establishments. I was enriched. Later, she ground the beans and we partook of the transformed fruit. Still over-sweetened, and she was no certified expert roaster, but the freshest (and environmentally friendly) cup I’ve ever had.

I kill spiders now. Big ones.

Remember my story about me being terrified of the spider in my room when I first got to Panama? Not I kill spiders like a champ. They stand no chance when I have a piece of a 2x4 in my hand. I killed four similar to this one while cleaning my current room in my host family's house.

I always was a sucker for a blue-eyed boy.

Yes, this is my kitten. He has no name and is currently still with his mother, but we will be best friends soon enough. He will be my companion, my friend. When I was younger a cat was the first real pet our mother allowed my sisters and I to have. When I was upset, he was the only one who really understood. I can't wait to take care of him. In two years, he will be the best souvenir from Panama ever! Like I said, he needs a name. Help me out! Something silly and American would be fun, something that sounds even funnier with a Spanish accent. 


One more thing... I want your comments! I unfortunately can't keep close contact with everyone BUT I want to know who is reading my blog. Drop a line, give me your thoughts, just say hello - anything! It gets lonely out here and it comforts me to know that my friends are being a part of my experience through my blog. I love you all! 

Real Volunteers: Swearing In Cerimony

As a training group we were "swore in" as official volunteers at the home of the US Ambassador to Panama. It was a fancy occasion. I spoke on behalf of our training group and gave the following speech. It pretty much sums up our experience in Panama since August. It's in Spanish so read it, translate, enjoy. It's not any new information... just a good review of my time! 

Muy Buenas Tardes,

Licenciada Rita Orozco, Directora de Fomento y Cultura de Anam

Embajadora de Los Estados Unidos en Panamá, Phyllis Powers,

Director de Cuerpo de Paz, Brian Riley,

Personal y Voluntarios de Cuerpo de Paz:

Invitados Especiales

Gracias por la oportunidad de representar al grupo sesenta y nueve de voluntarios del Cuerpo de Paz.

Hemos pasado juntos muchas experiencias desde que el avión aterrizo aquí en Panamá.  Ha sido un trabajo duro, muchas veces divertido, algunas veces frustrante, pero al final muy gratificante. Esto ha demostrado ser la mejor aventura de nuestras vidas. Quiero describirles algunas cosas de nuestro trabajo, cosas que hemos hecho para prepararnos y convertirnos en voluntarios.

Primero, la mayoria de nosotros tuvimos la necesitad de aprender un nuevo idioma. Todos tuvimos que aprender a viajar por el país usando este nuevo idioma y el transporte público. Felizmente puedo decir que nunca nadie se perdió. Hemos disfrutado la nueva comida, y los efectos de esta dieta sobre nuestro sistema digestivo. Ajustamos nuestra percepción del tiempo y la comunicación. Hemos aprendido que para lograr un desarrollo sostenible  en nuestros dos años,  más que infraestructura y paternalismo es necesario.desarrollar relaciones y confianza para entonces transmitir la habilidad de aplicar principios de salud ambiental.

Como voluntarios de Salud Ambiental tendremos la especial tarea de capacitar a las poblaciones de las áreas más pobres de Panamá. para que puedan tener acceso a agua potable y mejores servicios de saneamiento.

Hemos visitado y vamos a vivir en las áreas más remotas y menos desarrolladas de Panamá. Para algunos, nuestro único acceso va a ser en bote por cuatro horas. Otros viviremos en islas o en montañas lejos de las playas turísticas.

Hemos estado preparándonos mental y físicamente para vivir una vida similar a la de los Panameños. También, esperamos crecer personal y profesionalmente. Y   sentimos un gran aprecio por la vida que nos ha tocado vivir; llena de salud y seguridad. También, nos estamos enamorando de Panamá y de su gente. Las tradiciones, las culturas, y la generosidad nos han hecho sentir bienvenidos.

Mientras que la vida que dejamos atrás continúa, hemos elegido aplicar nuestra educación y habilidades de una manera que fortalecerá la amistad entre Panamá y los Estados Unidos. Como estadounidenses, hemos venido de diferentes orígenes e historias. Hemos elegido vivir aquí sin el apoyo  y la cercanía de nuestros seres queridos con la esperanza de llegar a una mejor comprensión de nosotros mismos y del mundo donde vivimos.

En dos años vamos a regresar a los Estados Unidos y participaremos en su sociedad con una perspectiva profunda que va a afectar nuestros trabajos, relaciones, y comportamientos. Nos gustaría dar las gracias a nuestro personal de capacitación por proveernos  una preparación efectiva, a los Estados Unidos por su apoyo, y a Panamá por su confianza en nuestra motivación para trabajar y promover la paz en nuestro mundo.

My Community: Duima

This week on This Erica Life we have stories about visiting an indigenous community in Panama. Our show in three acts. Act one: There's a snake in my botas. What to do when people in the community you're about to live in get bit by snakes. Act two: The best oranges I've ever tasted. A small hike turns into a big adventure and an exciting discovery with a group of Ngabe children. Finally, act three: Realities. The truth and logistics about living in a small mountain Ngabe community. Stay tuned.

Act One. There's a snake in my botas.

The community entry conference is meant to host our future counterparts (the local person who will be your work partner) and guides from our new communities. They are introduced to the Peace Corps safety procedures, housing requirements, and we develop work plans together with them. Afterwards they lead us to our sites for the first time. Awkward interactions ensue with the jovens from America and the rural Panamanians. The conference took place at a government conference center down the street from the southern beaches of the country. One counterpart walked to the beach with us one evening. He was 60 years old and had never seen the ocean before.

The conference is fundamental to our communities familiarization to Peace Corps and your first interaction with your community. Of course, this works smoothly when your counterpart attends the conference. A call to our training coordinators informed me that my counterpart, Paulino, would not be attending. No one else from the community was available to attend. Paulino's wife was bit by a snake while harvesting rice and was in the hospital not doing well. He was to be with her. Dios mio, I thought. First, how sad that this family that would soon be my friends had such a tragic occurrence. Second- dios mio! People get bit by snakes in my community. This is real life. While my friends sat and had their awkward interactions with either their old-man counterparts, or their scrawny, younger-than-me, how in the world are you going to be able to help me carry my bags, counterparts - I sat alone, wondering about the fate of my counterpart.

I left the conference after the first day because, well, it was useless for me to be there alone. I headed up to my site with a member of Peace Corps staff who was familiar with the location. What we found was Paulino, a small mountain community, and a whole bunch of unanswered questions.

Act two. The best oranges I've ever tasted.

I spent my time during my site visit getting to know the area and meeting a few people. I read Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone... for the first time in my life. I made a 5 year old burst into tears of terror while I said hello. His mother gently explained to me this is the first time he had seen a white person. I am checking off firsts faster than the stray dogs get to my leftover rice.

Duima (dwee-ma) is accessible by truck. I can live with the downgraded hardcoreness in exchange for ease of transport. Still, the Comarca around me is mostly inaccessible except by foot and Dwima is stemmed with trails that lead down the steep ridges into the jungles beyond. One trail ran out of the rear of the house I was staying in for the week. It beckoned me. I asked one of the children where it went. He said, "alli" and waved his hand abroad. Everything was, "alli". The water source, the other communities. Him and I made plans to check it out. The following day we donned our botas and with 5 other Ngabe children we headed down the steep muddy trail. We hiked down and down, then across fincas of maiz, then up another ridge. I cautiously walked, thinking about those snakes. The kids ran like it were a paved track. "Cerca, muy cerca", they kept telling me. After about an hour we arrived at their grandfather's house, a small abode on top of a hill. He was laying in a hammock, listening to his radio. He greeted us and the kids playfully nuzzled at him.

Next, I told the kids I would like an orange. Here in Panama it's orange season, and when the oranges are plentiful we peal the skin away with a sharp knife, careful not to break through to the juicy part. Then, we slice the top off and suck the juice out till it's flat. It was pure bliss. We climbed trees and threw down oranges, eating one after another. When our bags were full of oranges we headed back up the steep slopes in the rain and mud, peeling and munching along the way.

Act Three. Realities.

As of today nothing was ever confirmed about the snake story. I never saw the wife of Paulino, but Paulino was never at the hospital like he said he was. No one ever mentioned a snake during the week I was there. Paulino himself had no interest in being my community guide. I lived with a different family for this week but will be moving in with Paulino and his family starting next week. I will have a nice room in a small bamboo house.

The day before I left was a meeting for the inauguration of the new casa comunal. There were members of the local government present and I was introduced to the community as well. I told them I wanted to know their culture, among other things. Following the meeting were brindis - rice and chicken and sweet corn juice. This corn juice tastes like old nasty corn, but everyone loves it. I suffered a few cups. After the food, the party started. The consumption of the corn juice fuerte started. It was consumed, and consumed, and I stood at the window of my host house across the street with a group of women. We gawked at the madness. The party moved to the muddy street in the rain and the punches were thrown. The father in my host family stood with me and commented ironically, "Now you're seeing our culture". I told him it's pretty much the same in the US. The band started playing and the dancing as well, through the night and into the morning when I was rising. As I rolled out of town in the mist of the dawn, the muddy and drunken stumbled about.

I never felt like I was in danger or being threatened in any way. There were plenty of townspeople not participating and most of them were gathered around my host house. It made for an exciting day and an interesting story. These indigenous people are proud of their culture and carry on ancient traditions living in the mountains of their pre-colonial ancestors. They have also been influenced by outsiders, and fall to the perils of poverty and all that it ensues.

Well, folks. That's our show. There is a lot more to come.

I don't usually share my relationship status...

Dear Coffee,

What happened to us? We used to be so happy. You were so strong and bold and I was so tired in the mornings. We were a perfect match. With a little milk- you would make my favorite color. I used to want to paint a room after you. Now I'm not so sure.

I thought that coming to this place where you are cultivated would bring us closer together but this has not been the case. In fact, it has driven us apart. Here, you are instant. Instant?! At least have the dignity to require time to make. Often in the mornings I find you luke warm and on bad days watered down until... cold. Sometimes you're made with so much sugar I go into a diabetic shock just holding you in my cup. It's just wrong. Since when did we have to use powdered milk? What have we come to?

Anyway, I'm switching to tea. At least until I'm done living with host families and I can prepare you the way I like. So many coffee plants around and nothing fresh to drink. It's a shame, really.

Truly,
Erica

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