Three Weeks In

Well it’s been three weeks since I arrived in Panama. The first week I shared a home with three other PCT’s (Peace Corps Trainees – or Aspirantes in Spanish) at an old American military base in what is now called la Ciudad de Saber or the City of Knowledge. I remember when I arrived thinking the living conditions were a little rugged, but looking back it was like staying at the Ritz. There was an indoor shower, indoor toilet, air conditioning and the works. I’m now living with a host family in the town of Santa Clara in the state of Panama. It’s kind of funny; they don’t call Panama City, Panama City, they just say Panama. But Panama (the city) is in Panama (the state) which is in Panama (the country). There are other capitals in other states that also have the same name. Like the capital of the state of Bocas Del Torro is Bocas Del Torro. Beats me.


Anyway, I live with Senor Lazaro Moran who is 87 years old and his wife Maria Rodriguez who is 60. They have a dog, a parakeet, more chickens than I can count and 4 kids. The parakeet runs around the house most of the day, but at night they keep him in an old toaster oven. It’s pretty funny. The first time I realized it was one morning when I was brushing my teeth outside and I kept hearing this pecking noise like someone tapping glass. It took me a second to realize that it was the parakeet tapping from inside the toaster oven. Pretty funny. Anyway, they actually live in between two of their kids. Their daughter Vernuir lives within 30 feet to the left with her husband Jose and their daughter Natalie. Their son Tereso lives within 30 feet to the right with his wife Maria and their son Adias. Both are housing PCT’s. By the way, if I ever say “my dad” I mean my house dad here in Panama. I’ll try to use house dad or house mom to make it easier for you guys to differentiate. They’re really very nice and I have enjoyed my time here with them and am looking forward to staying with them for the next couple of months. Maria doesn’t talk very much, Lazaro talks a lot, but I don’t understand a word he says. At first I thought it was me, but some other PCT’s who said they can understand their parents (house parents that is) came by one day and after talking to him, they were both like “We didn’t get a word of that”. Let’s just say he’s hard to understand. For example today I went to Victor’s house (another PCT) and met his house mom and pretty much understood everything she said. We had a great conversation for like 20 minutes. It was amazing. But as soon as I came home and my house dad started talking he might as well have been speaking Chinese. That’s how much of an accent he has. I’m beginning to catch a little bit of what he says, but it’s tough.

They live in a small home made of concrete floors, concrete walls and a zinc roof. They have a shower, but it’s outside and for the first week I lived here, they didn’t have any water. Their daughter and some others in town actually went to the representative for the neighborhood to complain about the water situation. I was invited to go along, but I stayed out of the conversation-I thought it would be better that way. They don’t have an indoor toilet, but there is a latrine at the top of the hill that they share with their son Tereso and his family. And for some dang reason every single latrine that I’ve been in is only five feet tall. This can be a little frustrating for someone who is six feet tall. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve hit my head since I’ve been here. In every single latrine, on the busses, on this dang wire that hangs down in my classroom and on one of the busitos (little busses) around town. But back to my house. They have a washing machine! It’s a very small one that has a separate spinner, but it does a good job and Maria doesn’t have to wash the clothes by hand. My room is small, but I have a light which is nice. Other PCT’s have fans in their rooms which I would kill for. It’s been difficult sometimes to sleep at night when you’re lying in bed sweating-but I’m getting used to it. It also stinks when I have to put on my clothes, my shoes and my headlamp whenever I wake up in the middle of the night and have to climb the little hill to the pit latrine, but I’m getting used to that too. Plus it’s good exercise……right? One night their son Tereso came by with a scorpion that he had killed. He told us he found it in the latrine and it was at night. He showed it to his folks and they were like “wow!” but not in a good way. They talked about it with him for about five minutes and it clearly wasn’t something that they were happy to see. Now I’m careful about where I sit, especially at night. And I shake my clothes and shoes before I put them on just in case. A mosquito net is also a necessity, but I can’t really say that mosquitoes have bothered me that much here in Santa Clara. Plus I’m taking medication once a week to hopefully prevent me from getting it. Every Sunday is malaria Sunday. YAY!! Malaria Sunday! What else is a little odd about life in Panama? Oh, there are definitely some big dang roaches. I bout scared the devil out of myself the other night. Lazaro and Maria had already gone to bed so the light was off. I had my headlamp on and was on my way to brush my teeth when I tilted down and my headlamp was shining on this giant cockroach in the sink. I kinda jumped back for a second…..and then I smashed it with my shoe…..what a mess. And little lizards are pretty much everywhere. It’s not uncommon at all for me to go into my bedroom and see live 5 or 6 little lizards just chillin on the wall. It’s actually pretty neat. They look like decorations until they start to move.

Alright, this post has definitely gotten out of hand. Plus it’s late and I’m beat. It’s about 9:30 which is very late here in Panama because the sun goes down early and rises early. Your body just kinda makes you go to bed at 9 here. I’ll try to post some pics of my house and some different things if I can figure it out. It may take a while folks. Until next time!

A view from Piedras Gordas (Fat Rocks)

30 minutes

Okay, I only have 30 minutes before my bus leaves Chorrera and goes back to Santa Clara, so I will try to be quick. We just returned from our first on-site vist. Originally I was supposed to go by myself, but unfortunately another PCV (Peace Corps Volunteer) got sick and had to be taken to the hospital in David (a big city in Panama). So....another aspirante (we´re called aspirantes until we actually swear in as PCV´s) named Jack had to come with me because his host was in the hospital. As it turns out another aspirante was also hospitalized in David after having some not so clean water..or something like that. But forget about all that. I had a great time staying with my host volunteers Kate and Bracken and enjoying the town of Vallerequito outside of the provincial capital of Las Tablas. There's actually a town called Vallerico which stands for Rich Valley before you get to Valleriquito which means Little Rich Valley. And what a view! Beautiful green mountains all around and the people were hilarious. We spent most of our time making fun of everyone. What I mean to say is that the locals made fun of us and we made fun of them and we all had a grand ol time. What makes Valleriquito so unique is that many moons ago a large company was paying the local farmers a certain amount for their milk. However, this amount would fluctuate frequently depending on market conditions and so forth. They also decided that Valleriquito didn´t produce enough milk in the summer months (when there´s no rain) to purchase any milk at all. So.....the local farmers created a group-about 17 or 18 and decided to create a cheese factory even though they knew nothing about cheese. A PCV about 17 years ago helped them to get started and now it´s up and running and earning money and is a great success story for the people of Valleriquito. The farmers get a fixed price per liter of milk that they bring in every single morning and the Quesarilla (Cheese factory) makes fresh cheese every day. They employ about 4 women in the town  who come in every morning, clean everything, measure how much milk each farmer has brought in and records it in a notebook - and one of the farmers oversees the operation. It was really cool to see how a PCV 17 years ago helped start something that is providing jobs for so many people. Not only jobs, but a sense of accomplishment, ownership and pride. It was truly awesome. And of course all the farmers coming in made fun of me for taking pictures of them riding in on their horses and unloading the milk. They actually have a nickname for Bracken-the PCV living in the village. They call him Pollo Americano, which is American Chicken. He´s actually trying to obtain a laptop or computer for the factory because they have 17 years worth of information, but it´s all handwritten in notebooks. If they had a laptop they could enter in all that information to have a better picure of their business operations. Right now they sell cheese as far away as Panama City which is about 5 hours away. Pretty impressive for a little town in the mountains. They are also selling all they cheese they´re making. Right now they´re not looking to expand, but there is definitely potential in the future which is exciting to see. Well that´s all I have time for now, but I´ll try to post more later. Chau!