The Emotional Moments of a First Year Peace Corps Volunteer

Group 73 at our Swear in Ceremony in August, 2013

This past week I had the opportunity to celebrate the swearing in of Group 75 and couldn't help but remember when I was in their shoes exactly one year ago.  In what seems like the blink of an eye (except for when I was suffering with one of many jungle maladies...) my first year as a Peace Corps Volunteer is officially complete and I'm now on the downhill slope.  There's so much left to see and do, but I also wanted to share some of my most memorable moments thus far.  

To my fellow G73'ers: I have loved spending this past year learning, working, and laughing with you and can't wait for another year of scaries, happies, funnies... and hopefully not too many more grosses.

The Scariest Moment

I will never forget the day we left for our sites.  As the province of Bocas has one main road, many of us road the bus together and then got off at our respective stops one by one.  In the midst of the loud tipico music and chatter of a typical bus in Panama, we were all eerily silent.  As we were nearing her stop, I turned to my friend Zoe and asked her what she was thinking.  Then she, one of the happiest, most positive and upbeat people I've ever met, said simply, "I'm trying really hard not to cry."  It was terrifying and it was finally real.  We were getting ready to start new lives in new places where we would be the only ones like us.  There would be no English speakers, no amenities, no one who could understand where we were coming from, and we would be experiencing all of these firsts while living with an extremely impoverished host family and without a home of our own.  To read more of the scary, hard moments of Peace Corps, check out this blog.  

The Most Personally Successful Moment

While I can put my finger down on the exact moments I've felt successful as an agribusiness volunteer, I can't quite do the same for the personal side of the story.  As a person, and now as a member of my community, I feel like one of the best things I have been able to give to my people is the time we spend together as friends.  We've shared thoughts, beliefs, culture, food, games, laughs, and most importantly, friendship.  Building relationships takes time, but it's the time spent in those little moments that I know I'll be looking back on for years to come.  

The Most Professionally Successful Moment

What started out as a fun little way to spend my afternoons has grown into a women's empowerment and basic financial education project I'm helping to spread across the country.  It's not the numbers that have me feeling most successful with my Women's Baking & Business class though- it's the individuals who are benefitting.  While selling a few dulces likely won't drastically change their lifestyle, it can give them the tools and encouragement they need to be more confident and practice better household financial management.  

The Funniest Moment

While Spanish is the most widely used language in Panama, many indigenous people also speak their local language- Ngäbere.  It's full of gutteral sounds that sound nothing like Spanish, and learning it has been a fun and interesting way to integrate into my community.  An absolutely priceless moment occurred one day a few weeks ago while I was picking up some groceries in a store just outside of town.  While looking around, the two teenage boys who worked in the store started to stare a bit.  Since I'm finally used to sticking out like a sore thumb, I didn't pay much attention until I heard one say to the other, "Meti ta makwe," or "That girl is yours."  I have never seen two faces more surprised than theres when I turned around and replied "Ña gäre.  Ti ña gäre ta mawe," "Nope.  I am not your girl." 

The Grossest Moment

Gastrointestinal parasites, ringworm, mysterious jungle rashes and unsolved stomach bugs have all contributed to some pretty gross personal moments here in Panama, and I'm pretty sure nasty pit latrines with rotting floors can speak for themselves.  The story I continually go back to, though, is the time bathing in unsanitary water led me to get a really, really gross bacterial infection.  It was so gross that the taxi driver of the car I was riding in did a double take, pulled over, and said "I sure hope I'm taking you straight to the hospital, because that looks awful." Long story short, he did, and after fulfilling Doctor's orders of taking tons of antibiotics and moving to a new house, I'm almost as good as new.  The scar remains.  

The Day I Almost Died (But Escaped Perfectly Fine)

A Very Zoomed In Photo of my new Enemy- He's in black with the huge horns

Though statistically Peace Corps is incredibly safe, that certainly doesn’t stop parents, friends, and even volunteers from worrying about the worst-case scenario.  For my parents, it was that I would become the victim of a violent crime.  For my friends, it was that I would catch some terrible jungle malady.  As for me, I still cringe at the thought of the poisonous snakes that slither around the monte surrounding my site *shiver.*

All of those things considered, it seems a bit ironic that the one thing that almost got me was not only incredibly common, but was even raised my some neighbors back home.  What was this menacing thing?  The torro (bull)…

In an effort to get to know my community, I spent a large part of the first three months hiking to various homes and visiting with the families that lived there.  Since I have a rural community, it’s not uncommon for me to walk through fields or forests unaccompanied.  It was during just one such visit that Señor Torro set his sights on me. 

It all started when I approached the barbed wire fence that surrounded a house I had yet to visit.  In my usual visiting voice, I loudly called out to greet the family, and was informed that I would need to walk about 50 feet to my right to get through the “gate,” which was really just more barbed wire that was tied to the post instead of being nailed to it.  Having made less than two steps toward the gate, a bull from a small group about 20 feet away suddenly started to charge.  What was my genius response?  To scream and run.  Thankfully, the family quickly admonished my reaction and loudly instructed me to freeze.  Freeze I did, but for about 2 seconds too long.  This time, I had a moment of warning as my newfound enemy began pawing the ground and snorting his disapproval.

At this point, it was instantly evident that staying frozen would only get me mauled by my gigantic foe, so I chose Plan B: Run like the wind and pray to Heaven that my little legs could leap the barbed wire fence.  (At this point, who had time for the 50 foot trek + untying a fence post?)

I expected to find myself face-first and bloody on the other side, but surprisingly I cleared that fence Summer Olympian style with only a teeny-tiny nick on my ankle.  After assuring that I was okay, the family took a moment to stare in complete silence before questioning the utterly obvious- “You just jumped that fence?  You just jumped that fence….”

It’s safe to say that I now take Bull Safety quite seriously, as my awkward yet terrified behavior shows.  Before entering any field in which the torros reside, I search for the largest sticks (bordering small trees) that I can find, and enter slowly while attempting to demonstrate that I have much, much larger “horns” than they do. 

So far, so good. 

Fear, Nerves, and Heading to Site

It's finally August 25, and today's the day.  Today is the day that I'm going to move to my site and begin my two year term as a volunteer in Bocas del Toro, Panama.  I'm anxious, excited, nervous, scared, and incredibly happy all at the same time.  

But what about the whole fear thing?  Since I began the process of becoming a volunteer nearly 16 months ago, this is the first time I've felt that emotion.  In fact, when I first arrived in Panama my biggest fear was not having enough work to do...

I don't know what flipped the switch, but on the scale of indifferent to terrified, I'm getting closer and closer to the latter.  There's a sudden feeling of being overwhelmed by all of the challenges- trivial and large- that I'm getting ready to face.  While I know that these feelings are normal and that every volunteer deals with them, it's still hard. 

Like I explained to someone the other day, it's like finding yourself completely exhausted and sore at the beginning of a marathon workout.  You know you're going to push through and be very glad you did, but all of the sudden it just hits you how much it's going to hurt.  

I appreciate your thoughts and prayers throughout the next two years (and especially the next two months) and look forward to sharing all of the fun, exciting, and sweet moments that are pulling me through the rough spots.  

And now (literally, right now) to Bocas!