The Boys Are Back In Town

Seminario de Negocios

The business seminar in Chorrera went well and I was pleased I was able to work with the same individual I had worked with at the previous seminar. Although Generoso had changed his idea for a business, he had already made the necessary changes to the work we had done previously, so we didn’t get too far behind. Generoso is only about 19 or 20, but he seems to be pretty intelligent and hard working. He lives in the Comarca Ngobe Bugle (if you’ve read my previous posts you already know the Comarca is an autonomous region of Panama where the majority of indigenous people live) where there is no electricity, but he wants to start an internet café with the use of solar panels. Right now people have to travel an hour and a half to Tole to use the internet, make copies, print things off and things like that. He must come from a family of hard working entrepreneurs because his dad, uncle and other members of the family have a furniture shop and tree farm. He’s the only Ngobe I know who owns a laptop.

Generoso and me at the Business Seminar

After the seminar I spent a couple of days in the city just hanging out, spending WAY too much money on food and enjoying all the amenities the city has to offer. Monday night we went to a great bar/restaurant that had flat screen televisions and watched Monday Night Football. Redskins vs. Cowboys. It was great! But the skins lost….not so great.

 San Miguel Centro

I had only planned to spend a couple of days in the city, but a friend of mine, Victor, was changing sites and asked me if I would help him move some things. We traveled to his old site, San Miguel Centro, which is about a two hour chiva ride north of Penonome. (Remember, a chiva is just a pick-up truck with a metal cage on the back where they cram in as many people as possible) It was a pretty rough ride, but the scenery was nice. We were only supposed to be there for a night, but we wound up staying for two because Victor’s girlfriend and her cousin came up as well.

Victor's house in San Miguel Centro

I was fortunate enough to be in town on the night of the founding celebration. It seemed like the whole town was there. Everyone got a candle as we left the church, lighting it from the others around us. We basically did a circle around town ending where we started at the Catholic Church on top of the hill. No one spoke during the procession and you could see the small flames of a thousand candles throughout town. It was really quite moving and reminded me of all those Christmas Eve services back home that I’ve been going to since I was a child.

Founding Celebration in San Miguel Centro

The next day we hiked for an hour and a half to a waterfall in town. The swimming area wasn’t very big, but it was deep enough to jump off a large boulder in the middle of the river without getting hurt. Of course climbing up the boulder seemed pretty risky to me, but the kids climbed up like it was nothing, making me look like a complete nerd when I needed someone to help pull me up. I swear they must have sticky stuff on their feet. One kid amazed me when he climbed half way up the side of a cliff using a jungle vine. I decided not to try that one. We splashed around, did some swimming and headed back to town.

Look paw, I climbed a rock!

I woke Victor and the rest of the gang up around 5:30am the next morning so we could catch the chiva at 6:00. If we didn’t catch that one it could be 9, 10, or even 11 before the next one came along and I had a long way to go to get back home. The chiva finally came around 6:30 and we loaded up most of Victor’s belongings in great big garbage bags. Not very pretty, but it didn’t take us long to pack up all his stuff. From Penonome we took another bus to Capira and then took another bus to his new site, Monte Obscuro or “Dark Mountain”. We made small talk with his new host family and his new host mom showed us the house he would be moving into after a month or so. I really had to start making my way back to David (it’s a 7 hour trip from where I was) but when I mentioned that we had to get going, his host mom said the next bus wouldn’t be for another hour. So…we waited an hour and when the bus came it was full and the driver wouldn’t let us on. After that we tried to find a taxi, but no one seemed to know the number for one. There was nothing we could do but wait yet another hour for the next bus. 

I jumped off the rock and lived! Yay life!

We took the bus from Monte Obscuro to Capira, then another bus from Capira to Penonome (where we both had to stand, staring at the floor because Victor and I are both over six feet tall and the ceiling of the bus is only five feet tall – yes, it was very comfortable…. Victor stayed in Penonome and I hopped another bus to Santiago. From Santiago I caught another bus to David. I wasn’t able to get a big bus in Santiago, which is definitely more comfortable, because they were all full. I was extremely lucky though because one guy told me he had been waiting for three hours and couldn’t find a ride to David. As soon as I stepped off the bus in Santiago, some guy yelled at me “Hey, you going to David?” I was a little leery about following him to a small van parked at the side of a store, but after talking to the rest of the people inside I knew it would be fine. Actually, we didn’t make any stops and the driver flew like hell so we made it into David in record time. It was about 9pm when we pulled into David and I had been traveling since 6am. I grabbed some cheap fonda food (a fonda’s just a cheap dive restaurant) and headed to the hotel T for a good night’s rest.

What a bunch of nerds.

Who needs a land line when there's a pay phone right in town? This is also a very important historical site. It's the very first pay phone in Latin America that Clark Kent used to change into his Superman spandex outfit. Seriously, you can google it.

The Boys Are Back in Town

The next morning I got to the terminal and because of the time, I didn’t know if the bus I was boarding was getting ready to leave or had just pulled. It was weird when he answered “We’re leaving as soon as we’re full.” The busses in Panama are generally one of the few things you can depend on to have a regular schedule. As the bus filled up with indigenous Ngobe I quickly realized that coffee harvest season had begun. Every year starting around mid September, hundreds, maybe even thousands, of Ngobe leave the Comarca and head to coffee farms all over Panama, including the Chiriquí highlands and Costa Rica. The harvest season lasts through mid January and for many of them it’s the only source of income they see all year. It is hard, difficult, manual labor that pays exactly diddly squat. They get two dollars for every bag they fill with coffee beans and the bags are about five feet tall. It would probably take me two days to fill one of them. But if they got paid a decent wage, I’m guessing the world would stop drinking coffee because it would be too expensive. (Yes, I realize that last statement seems like a direct jab at capitalism from someone who is a firm believer in a fair market system)

The upside to a bus made for 20 people that now has 40, is that we made it home in record time. No one got on and we didn’t stop to let anyone off. Two hours fifteen minutes when it usually takes three. The downside is that you have a completely jam-packed bus full of people who haven’t had a decent shower in days, one kid to the right of me who threw up within thirty minutes, the indigenous girl next to me (who was probably 16 at best) was breast feeding a baby on her left knee while the two year old girl on her right knee was balling her eyes out for most of the trip and one of them, or some kid close by, had obviously shit himself. (Side note – it is not uncommon for teenage girls in the Comarca to have multiple children) Of course her kid is not the only one crying. There’s a baby that I would have sworn someone was trying to squeeze the life out of the way it screamed THE WHOLE WAY HOME – OVER TWO HOURS. Other kids were snotting and sneezing, hacking and coughing. The bus was blaring Panamanian tipico music, which is just accordion music with some guy screaming along like he’s being murdered, but they call it singing, no air-conditioning and all the windows, except mine, were closed because it was raining. And then of course there’s the kid in front of me who started puking his holy guts out with about an hour left in the trip. Yes indeed it was a holly jolly ride. I believe every American should experience riding a bus in Panama to appreciate the divine wonder of owning your own vehicle in the United States.

I also noticed probably a dozen landslides on the way home. Most of them I thought to myself “Oh cool, a landslide. It looks like a waterslide at Water Country USA, only its mud. Neat.” But then there were two where I thought “HOLY CRAP!!! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED HERE!!??” Seriously, major landslides where it looked like the whole side of a mountain had been bulldozed. Thank goodness it had happened while I was gone. Apparently one of the teachers got stuck on a bus going to David for 7 hours just to wind up back in town because of the landslides. Good grief.

I had been gone a little over a week and coming back to town was almost surreal. In a town of about 4,000 people it now looked like there were 10,000 Ngobe. One of them was passed out drunk outside of Jorge and Rosa’s store and another one was sitting in the back of a pick-up truck with dried blood stains streaming down his face. Unfortunately two of the most popular sports for the Ngobe are drinking and fighting. Not casual drinking per se, but drinking so much you pass out in the parking lot of a convenience store and piss yourself kind of drinking. And fighting is just part of their past time. Like baseball for Americans. There’s not a whole lot to do in the Comarca. No bowling alleys, shopping malls, movie theatres, restaurants, tennis courts, basketball courts, pool halls, swimming pools, TV, or anything close. It’s not like they could afford a basketball even if there was a court to play on. Most live in dirt floor homes with no electricity or running water. So, to entertain themselves, they fight. It’s not like an “I’m going to kill you” kind of fight. Most of the time there are rules they follow. They only punch each other in the face and if a man goes down, you back off until he’s back up again. Most Ngobe men I have seen are short, stocky, and muscular. I guess it comes from a lifetime of hard labor and walking everywhere you go instead of driving. I wouldn’t want to get into a fight with a Ngobe who was a foot shorter than me for anything. And after riding all the way home with a bus crammed with way too many people, (let’s not forget the teenage girl breastfeeding beside me, or the crying, snotting, coughing, hacking, vomiting, pooping kids on board) finding one guy passed out drunk in the street, another one with a bloodied head wound, it was good to know….the Ngobes were back in town.

China Town

Nearly every corner store in Panama is Chinese owned. Larger cities like David, Santiago, Penonome, Chitre, Panama City and its surrounding suburbs, have big supermarkets like Rey, Super 99 or Romero. But the majority of stores outside these areas are small convenience type stores that are owned and operated by Chinese entrepreneurs. My town is no exception. There are four places in my town where I can purchase a few groceries, toiletries, plumbing supplies and the like. They are all Chinese owned. Most Panamanians don’t view the Chinese in their communities as being part OF the community. In fact, most people I’ve talked to view them as wealthy foreigners who are taking advantage of the little guy, i.e., Panamanians. People tend to think they’re being “robbed” by the Chinese. I see them as hardworking business men/women who came to Panama looking for a better life, bought a store, and are just trying to make a living like everyone else. However, most people here don’t see it that way.

One of the corner "Chinas" in town

Most Peace Corps volunteers, especially at first, find it distasteful that the stores aren’t even called stores. They’re called Chinas (pronounced Cheenas). People even call the owners, workers and pretty much anyone who even looks like they’re Chinese – China. Can you imagine that being done in the states? Going into a store and saying “Hey China, where’s the shampoo?” It’s done every day here. I can’t tell you how many kids and grown adults come up to the counter while I’m checking out and say “Hey China, how much is this? – Hey China, do you have any ice-cream? – Hey China, where’s the toilet paper?” It’s annoying to me and I’m just the guy standing in line. Well, that’s another issue that I won’t make a big deal of right now, but there is no line in Panama. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been standing there waiting patiently for ten minutes, people just cut in front of you like it was nothing. VERY ANNOYING. Anyway, I made it a point to learn the names of the shop owners and call them by name rather than call everyone China. I tried to explain to a student of mine once that yes, they’re from China, but they also have names, just like you have a name. How would you like it if I called all of you “Latino” all the time instead of using your name? I bet you wouldn’t like that would you? It didn’t seem to sink in. But, then again they don’t view it the way I do. In fact a lot of people have the nickname Chino. It’s not because of any physical features or for any reason at all really. One of my students is nicknamed Chino as well as one of my neighbor’s kids. After awhile you even start saying it yourself because that’s how everyone else speaks. I’ve definitely caught myself saying “I have to go to the China to get some …...” I try to say store, but sometimes China slips out. One of the teachers I work with drops me off nearly every day at the corner store and usually asks me now if I’m going home or to the China.

Jorge and Rosa's store - I teach upstairs

On a side note, being in her car reminds me of being in high-school or college when we would cram ten people into a car to go somewhere. A car here is definitely a luxury that most people cannot afford. So everyone from school (teachers and people who work in the office and sometimes students) crams into her car, sitting on each other’s laps, making general conversation because this is a normal thing and not out of the ordinary. I on the other hand can’t help but keep a smirk on my face until I get out. But now back to the topic.

Elizabeth cooking and hiding from the camera

The day I left to go to Chorrera for a business seminar, I walked to the bus station and then headed to the store to buy something to drink. I noticed it was closed and thought “that’s weird”, but started to cross the street to another store when I noticed it was closed as well. Let me say something here. The shop owners are some of the hardest working people I have seen in Panama. Their stores are open from 7am to 9pm (some longer) and they are there every single day. No days off. And I’m sure they stay after closing to clean and get ready for the next day. The store I go to most of the time is owned by Jorge and Rosa and without fail they are there every single day, all day long, even on Christmas. Amazing. So I was completely confused when I noticed all of the stores in town were closed. I started asking around and found out that five Chinese people were killed in Chorrera (the town I was going to) by some Venezuelan guys. I still don’t know what happened exactly, but apparently they were robbed and killed because (as it was explained to me) Chinese people are seen as being wealthy. After this happened the entire Chinese community in Panama closed their stores for five days in a row as a protest for more security and a unitary sign of mourning. Wow. Now that’s organization that I haven’t seen from anyone else in Panama. They essentially shut down complete towns for five days. I never really thought about how much power they could yield if they came together like that.

Alejandro at the store

Not long ago, Rosa asked me if I might be able to help a couple of her daughters with English. She knows that I work at the high-school every day with an after school program. I told her sure and we set a time; which is another rarity here. What’s much more common is the following:

YOU:“So, what time are we leaving tomorrow?”

Panamanian:“In the afternoon.”

YOU:“Oh, what time in the afternoon?”

Panamanian:“In the afternoon.”

YOU:“Well, like 1pm or 5pm?”

Panamanian:“I don’t know. In the afternoon.”

This happens all the time and is completely frustrating to Americans. There is no such thing as punctuality or even a concept of time here. Even in the schools.

ANYWAY, we use the upstairs of their store as a classroom. I usually stay for a couple of hours teaching basic language skills or helping them with their English homework. I found out while talking to them, that all four had been living in China with their grandparents for the past two years. The two older girls know both Spanish and Chinese (more or less), as do their parents, but the two younger kids only know Chinese. Rosa and Jorge have hired them a Spanish teacher that comes in the afternoon on weekends. The teacher doesn’t come during the week because they don’t have time. They all go to school in Volcan, which is an hour and a half away. They go there, as do a couple other Panamanian kids, because the school here is seen as being so bad that they would rather pay to have their kids attend a school an hour and a half away than send them to the one in town. Among being hard working they also value education. Another trait that I wish more Panamanians would adopt…..Americans too.

Real Chinese food!! Mmm mmm good.... (you have to hum the campbell's soup theme here - that is if it doesn't violate any copyright laws against the campbell soup company - if not, hum your little heart out)

Jorge and Rosa both offered to pay me, but I told them I was a volunteer and my services were free. They argued with me, but I didn’t back down. Jorge made a point to say “We know you get paid a little, but it’s not much and you have to eat too.” (well, something like that anyway) They were both pretty persistent about wanting to pay me, so after a couple lessons I mentioned that I like Chinese food. The next time I showed up they had made me these dough like balls with meat inside – Delicious! The next time they offered me lo-mien. The last time I went they brought out two big bags of groceries. One with two cans of Spam and a 5lb. bag of rice and another full of vegetables. I told them that I really appreciated the offer, but that it was WAY too much. They persisted, so I told them I would take one bag, but I was going to leave the bag with the vegetables because I was leaving town for a few days and didn’t want them to spoil. They finally said okay, but that when I came back they would pack a new bag for me. Oh and they also gave me a piece of cake. I went again this morning and of course they gave me a big bag full of tomatoes, onions, apples and more Spam. I’m not sure why they keep giving me Spam – I’ve never bought it there. Hey, I’m not complaining – I made a Spam and egg sandwich for lunch today. Rosa even apologized for not giving me any lettuce, saying they were out. How ironic that I move to Panama and my best friends are the Chinese owners of the store I shop in. Maybe I should have done my Peace Corps service in China. Okay, I gotta run. Cheers for now. I’ll be writing again very soon. The Ngobe’s are back in town……