I agreed to help Renan, a neighbor of mine, plant some corn and do some work on his finca (farm). It´s really just a small plot of land that belongs to his mother-in-law where he´s growing beans and corn. I get there ready to go with my boots, some pants I don´t mind getting dirty, an old army undershirt and my little orange camel-back that everyone is simply amazed by. Seriously, they ask me about it all the time. How much was it? Where did you get it? How does it hold water? Can I have it? On and on and on. I take it with me everywhere I go because I can fit everything I need inside. Water, obviously, my rain jacket, an umbrella (and yes I need both), a dictionary (don´t laugh, I really do need it), a small notebook to write names, new words or random information and the keys to my house; which I´m proud to say I´ve only lost once. We go thru his wife´s grandmother´s yard full of chickens and walk a bit down a muddy path to the field of dreams, I mean field of beans. (Ok, that was uncalled for) He shows me how to plant the corn using a stick that he jabs into the ground, pushes it forward, throws in a couple of seeds and moves on. He ties the bucket of seeds around my waist and I´m off like a Russian racehorse. About half a second later I´m covered in mosquitoes like Bill Clinton was covered in shame after that whole Monica Lewenski thing. I curse myself for not bringing any repellent which is sitting comfortably on the floor of my room. And you ask ¨Why didn´t you bring it Sean?¨ And I reply ¨Because I´m an idiot butthead.¨Actually, I wanted to experience life as a true Panamanian farmer who doesn´t have the luxury of mosquito repellent……….yeah…………that´s it…………..experience the culture kinda thing. To be honest, I haven´t been bothered much by mosquitoes here, so I didn´t even think about it. I will now though. I finished my corn planting and met Renan under a tree where we had our things. He looked at me and then told me to go home. I had mosquito bites all over my arms, my neck, even my face. I had one under my eye that he found particularly interesting. He told me to go get a hat, a long sleeve shirt and come back if I felt like it. I walked all the way back home, probably a little over a mile, dug out the one long sleeve shirt I brought, grabbed my hat and repellent and started again like a brave civil war soldier heading back to the battle after losing an arm due to a cannon ball blast………..ok, maybe not exactly like that……………more like a Peace Corps volunteer going to plant some beans……….but still just as impressive.
They´re all gonna laugh at you
I spread some fertilizer over the beans as another friend was spraying poison to kill the weeds. We didn´t stay long because, if you can imagine this, it began to rain. We went back to Renan´s mother-in-law´s house where she made us lunch. A fried egg, rice with beans and potato salad. They were all joking with me, pointing at my mosquito bites and saying how Panamanian blood is boring to mosquitoes, they want American blood, it´s sweeter. They talked about this for what seemed like forever, joking and pointing and laughing. I was just laughing too, saying – It´s true, I´m sweeter than the rest! They had a really good time laughing at me……..I mean, with me……..They had an even better time getting me to say new words. Half the time I think I was cursing and didn´t know it. They would say something, I´d repeat it and then they´d all laugh hysterically. I felt like the clueless dork on the playground who doesn´t realize that all his ¨friends¨ are laughing AT him. At least I´m accomplishing goal 2 of Peace Corps Panama. To learn and share in the culture of Panama. Don´t feel too high and mighty over there in the states. I promise, if you come to Panama, they´re all gonna laugh at you.
