Party on the East Side

One of the aspects I love most about Panama is the incredible diversity you can find in such a small geographic area, and since Panama is a pretty safe and stable country, we have over 200 volunteers scattered through many of the different cities, towns, villages, and indigenous reserves.  

When volunteers move to and integrate into these host communities, we develop a sense of local pride and belonging- a feeling that we´re usually all too eager to share with anyone who will take the time to get to know the people and places we´ve come to love and identify with.  

So it´s probably no surprise that my favorite part of my job as Regional Leader has been to visit volunteers in their communities and get to know a little more about their local culture and customs- which can truly vary even amongst communities less than an hour´s walk away from each other!  

While I usually make one-on-one visits for work, I also really look forward to bigger events and festivities.  Peace Corps (Panama) volunteers are a really amazing group of smart, fun, and kind people that I love spending time with, so I was especially excited to participate in one of the biggest events we´ve ever hosted in my region- the Anniversary of the founding of the Emberá-Wounaan reservation in Panama.  

To clarify- Peace Corps didn´t host the event.  The locals have a lot of pride in their culture (as they should!) and celebrate this important milestone in a large indigenous community located a three hour boat ride down the Pacific coast and up the Sambu river.  One of my friends, Nico, lives there and has a talent for organization and event planning, so he invited PCVs from all over the country to come and celebrate with the village.  

Around thirty volunteers made the long trek out here to hang out in Sambu and I think it´s pretty safe to say a great time was had by all.  There was tons of festival food (jungle meat on a stick anyone? How about some home-made alcoholic corn beverage?), cultural presentations (historic music and dances by them, and a historic dance/wobble mix up by us), contests (breath holding contest, tug-of-war, barefoot running, and a drinking contest), and plenty of time to spend with friends both new and old.  The locals even took us under their wing and painted intricate designs on all of us with jagua- a paint similar to henna thats made from local fruits and lasts 1-2 weeks.  

Even though I spent most of my Peace Corps service with a completely different indigenous group (the Ngäbe) across the country in Bocas del Toro, I´ve come to look on Darien with a similar fondness and affinity.  I´m so thankful for the opportunity to share my new province with so many of my friends and fellow volunteers, and I´m especially glad that we were able to contribute to the sense of local pride and identity,  A friend of mine recently ran into an indigenous woman in Panama city who hadn´t been able to make it home for the celebrations.  Even all the way in the city she had heard about all of the volunteers who had come out to show their support, and told my friend that it made her and many fellow Emberá especially proud of their heritage.  How awesome is that?

Saying Goodbye

“All good things must come to an end, but I wouldn’t have wanted it to end any other way or with any other people.”

Just about a month ago I left my site for the last time, and man, it was rough.  I had been so busy thinking about and planning for my upcoming cross-country move that I had spent very little time dwelling on my looming departure or preparing for a going away party.  Having heard numerous disappointing accounts of despedidas (going away parties) going wrong, I had very little expectations for anything my gente might put together. 

And honestly, I was okay with that. 

So I was moved to tears (nearing sobs, if we´re being honest) when various community members organized not one, but two events to show me how much my two years had meant to them.  My actual despedida was an official party organized by one of the teachers in our little school.  Like me, she´s not from the village and her family lives about 12 hours away, so she understood more than most what I was going through when I went through feelings of loneliness and isolation. 

Each family in the community contributed $5 (almost a whole day´s wages) in order to provide a community lunch and gifts for me.  They decorated our community pavilion and then, one by one, they stood up and shared with me their favorite memories and their thanks for how much Peace Corps has done for the community and how much they would miss me.  Many of the families even made me extra gifts like hand-crocheted bags, jewelry, and hair accessories.  When it was finally my turn to speak, I blinked back tears and tried to focus on the speech that I had been practicing for the last week. 

Despite my best intentions, I only made it through a few sentences.  Later on in the day I mentioned to someone how frustrated I was that I hadn´t been able to share all of the thoughts, feelings, and memories that I had wanted to.  In response, she told me, “I understand.  But Geli, what you couldn´t say with your mouth, you said with your eyes.”

The despedida finished after lunch, and after a community photo shoot I spent the afternoon visiting as many families as I could, knowing this would be my last chance to say goodbye. 

After dinner with some neighbors, I planned to have my final meeting to make coffee on our new eco-stove and answer any last questions the community members may have had abou the project.  I expected there to be a handful of people who would spend 20 or 30 minutes with me but was surprised by a second despedida!

More than 40 people- men, women, children, and teenagers- showed up with Johnny cakes (my favorite local coconut bread) and a cake that one of my Baking & Business students had made for me.  After making coffee and enjoying the food, a teenager who I had sent to one of Peace Corps´ youth camps suggested that anyone who had not been able to attend the earlier despedida take the opportunity to share memories and thanks.  “But first,” he said, “everyone should turn off their flashlights so that everyone can cry and nobody will feel bad about it.”

In two years, I had never once seen anyone in the village cry, so seeing such strong emotions prompted by my departure meant more to me than I could even begin to describe in a blog post. 

Not having access to electricity, people generally go to bed quite early in my town, but on that night my neighbors and I stayed up together until almost 1 am, after a while not really saying much but also not wanting to end the night, and thus, my two years in the village.  Almost painfully, I finally made it back to my house where I finished packing up my things and tucked myself into my hammock one last time. 

As my favorite taxi driver picked Massy and I up at 6 am the next morning, I said final goodbyes to one of my favorite families who had gotten up extra early to see me off.  They prayed for me and I promised that I would call as soon as I arrived safe in my new house, knowing that it would be a long time before it becomes a home like the one I was now leaving behind.   

Even Rolando, my sweet taxi driver, shared in the goodbyes.  “The town may have other Peace Corps volunteers,” he said, “but there will always be only one Geli.” 

"We will miss you a lot.  We will remember you forever.  Thank you for everything you have given us, and may God bless you forever."

Farm to Table

Though the humid heat can be stifling, I loved summer in the South because in my family the season meant a garden full of crunchy green beans, juicy tomatoes, fresh herbs and trips to local farmers’ markets to pick up the fruits and veggies we didn't grow ourselves. 

Lucky for me, living in Bocas del Toro, Panama, has been like living in a perpetual summer filled with local agricultural products, many of them new to me! Though I often offer to buy products from my neighbors, it’s also culturally common for me to be gifted any of the local foods in exchange for helping out on the farm or simply just stopping by to say hello.  As an extra bonus for me- since I’m getting the produce in my site, I don’t have to hike it in like everything else I eat!

So, what’s available here?

All year round we have cacao coconuts, culantro, bananas, plantains, papaya, a scattering of peppers and rice, and several varieties of root vegetables.  Though yucca, dachin, name, and ñampi are  prepared similar to potatoes, they have a richer taste (and come in shades ranging from white to purple!)

Seasonally we also have pineapple, pixvae, orange, lemon, guava pods, cashew fruits, soursop, and coffee. 

In addition to the crops, most families have chickens for meat and eggs.  Families with access to a little more resources may also have turkeys and/or pigs, and the most well off families have a few cattle.  Other than chicken, meat is considered a special occasion thing.  Add in the fact that we don’t have refrigerators to preserve meat, and that means that meat days are big feast days.  Obviously, I’m a fan.  

Cacao!  My favorite local product, obviously

A local pod-like fruit with a delicious fruit

A meal packed to-go: fried pork pieces with boiled green bananas

Local products for sale and exhibit at a local agricultural fair

To the Finca

One of the first agriculture terms I learned after arriving in Panama was finca.  A finca is the "small" plot of land sustenance or small-time, self employed cash-crop farmers tend.  

Most fincas are managed 100% by the family that owns them, though day laborers can be acquired for $4-$10/day. Panamanian farmers grow a variety of crops in their finca, depending on what region they're located in.  While just about every finca has at least a few Panamanian staple crops (bananas, plantains, root vegetables, corn, rice, and beans), each region seems to have it's own specialty based on soils, elevation, and agricultural history.

Citrus, robusta coffee, and coconuts grow in most of the central and eastern provinces. 

The Chiriquí highlands are famous for delicious vegetables and arabica coffee, and Bocas del Toro is known for it's cacao (yummmm).  

Though it depends on the land and individual producer, most rural farms have fairly low levels of production since they rely 100% on human laborer without the support of tractors or other modern agricultural machines and tools.

While they may be small by American farm standards, it takes a lot of work to manage a finca!  In my community, men do manual labor such as pruning, weeding, and pest management from early in the morning until 1 or 2 in the afternoon.  Women and children are sent to the finca once or twice a week to gather food for the family- bananas, plantains, and native root vegetables like ñame, ñampi, and dachin.  If it's a good week, there might even be fresh coffee or cacao!  

Some communities love to work in agricultural groups called juntas.  Each member farmer would take turns hosting a junta, a communal work day, in which the other member farmers would come and help out on the farm for free in exchange for lunch.  They rotate farms with each junta so that each member benefits and gets to enjoy some company in their daily (or weekly) labors.  

While typical juntas aren't common in my town, I did learn about a new type of women's junta when I was invited to my neighbors farm a few weeks ago!

Granted, I don't think I'll ever crave the local staple of boiled green bananas, but I have developed quite a taste for some of the other foods grown locally.  Dachin- a deliciously purple potato like vegetable is my favorite, but it's not sold in stores.  Since I can't resist my childlike cravings for purple mashed "potatoes," I asked one of my favorite neighbors, Milsa, if she had any extra dachin that I could buy.  She told me that she didn't, but invited me to her finca the next week.  Assuming that I was just going to help carry vegetables the 45 minute hike down the mountain, you can imagine my happy surprise when she gifted me a whole bag of bananas, plantains, and fresh jungle flowers!  

Apparently this is a pretty normal thing for women in my town to do together, and now I'm just frustrated that it took so long for me to get initiated into the group! 

Kevin, Milsa's grandson, showing how we use handmade bags to carry heavy loads on our head.

Milsa hiked all of this back, plus some!

My gift for helping out- 7 plantains and 40 mini bananas- which she considered "hardly anything"

The trail to a finca 

A particularly nice cacao finca- it even has a nice trail through it! 

Change You Can See- Women's Empowerment in Panama

One of my favorite ladies in my community, Diana, is an outgoing mother of three girls.  Her daughters consistently rank at the top of their classes, and she serves as Treasurer of our community agricultural society.  She's smart, adventurous, and a proven family and community leader, so I chose her to attend a project management seminar early last year.  In a group of nearly 30 counterparts, she was one of only two women in attendance.  When another volunteer asked her what inspired to be a woman leader, she responded, "In high school [approximately 15 years ago] I went to GAD camp."

Gender and Development, GAD for short, is a worldwide Peace Corps initiative that is working to promote gender equality and understanding and has made incredible progress here in Panama.  For the past year I've worked as the National GAD Treasurer and I've really loved working in our gender and youth development programs.  Change is slow, especially in international development, but the transformation I've seen in participants of our week-long Health and Leadership seminars is incredible.  We host yearly seminars for youth (like Diana), women, and men.  In each week, they receive targeted sessions that teach them how to set goals, have healthy relationships and lifestyles, understand basic finance, and become leaders in their communities.  

Attending a GAD Youth Camp was one of my favorite experiences as a first year Peace Corps volunteer, and this year I was able to participate in another of our awesome events- The Healthy Women's Artisan Seminar.  

During the week, selected artisans from all over Panama traveled to the conference to hear the basic GAD sessions, learn new artisan techniques that they can use to earn an additional income, and break down some serious cultural stereotypes.  

For many women, this was the first time they had ever left their province, traveled alone, or interacted with women from outside of their close-knit communities.  At the beginning of the week most women, especially the indigenous Ngäbes who tend to be looked down upon by their fellow Panamanians, were quiet and reserved.  We did our best to make the seminar a safe and comfortable opportunity for the women to relax and get to know each other as people, and sure enough, it worked.  

By the end of the week, the ladies were spending hours at a time teaching each other artisan techniques, sharing their cultures, and talking about the lives and families they had back home.  The impact was immediately visible, and that's something you almost never get to see as a Peace Corps Volunteer.  

On the last night some of the women requested to say a few words about what the experience had meant to them and one of my favorites, a shy indigenous woman from a very reserved community, proudly and emotionally told us how much the experience had meant to her.  She said she was excited to share what she learned with her community, thanked us as volunteers for giving the women this incredibly unique opportunity, and ended just as she was about to get teary eyed.  

Moments like that are the reason that I'm here.  They don't happen often, but each one will be replayed in my mind over and over again, reminding me why we do what we do.  

On another uplifting and girl-power note If you have a moment (and some Spanish) you should watch the video below about three Panamanian indigenous women who traveled to India to spend 6 months learning about solar technology that can be used in their communities.  As an extra fun fact, these ladies live only a few hours away from me and are friends with some of the GAD seminar participants!

"Feminism isn't about making women strong. Women are already strong. It's about changing the way the world perceives that strength." —G.D. Anderson

Why You Should Definitely Get a Pet When You Join the Peace Corps

Being an animal lover and lifetime pet owner, it took me a grand total of 2 hours between first arriving in my Peace Corps site and selecting what would become my most inseparable friend for the next two years. 

Sure, there are a handful of arguments against adopting a pet while serving in the Peace Corps, but in my opinion, all of those pale against the many positives that will come along with your new best friend(s). 

Before I go any further, let me just put to rest the argument that volunteers don’t make enough money to cover a pet. Both my dog and “my” cat are well fed, vaccinated, and plenty spoiled, but I’m still almost positive that I spend more money a month on ducles than on pet expenses.  If not, it’s close. 

Side note- I’m working on a post about money and expenses as a PCV, so look for that soon!

Just in case you haven’t been following my blog or haven’t seen the hundreds of pictures that are likely on my Facebook, we’ll start from the beginning of my Peace Corps pets story:  My host family’s dog, Gringa (“gringa” is also slang for “white girl,” but dog Gringa was named for her green eyes well before human gringa showed up), had a litter of puppies just two days before I arrived in town.  Kids being kids, my new host brothers couldn’t wait to show the newborns to me, and me being me, I couldn’t wait to pick one out for myself.  So I did.  Long story short, Massy and I became fast friends and I’ve been convinced of the many pet-provided benefits ever since. 

Benefit #1: Pets give a good end to a bad day.

No matter how positive you are, how hard you work, or how much you smile in the face of challenges, you WILL have days as a Peace Corps volunteer when you return to your house at night and do everything you can not to cry or dwell on all of the awful, sad, and potentially gross things that happened to you.  Though, thankfully, those days will be the minority, having a warm, cuddly friend willing to listen to your complaints without saying anything but “I love you.  Let’s have a snack.” with those sweet eyes of his (or hers) will give a better ending to any day- good or bad.

Benefit #2: It will never again be this easy to adopt and care for a pet.

No pet adoption agencies, no fees, and no expensive veterinary certifications (though you should still get shots done.  Here they're $2-4 per injection).  Plus, since you will likely live in very simple housing with little to no expensive possessions, there's almost no chance of your new dog or cat ruining something! 

Benefit #3: You never have to go anywhere alone!

Since my community is quite spread out, I spend several hours each week hiking through the monte to visit families or work on farms.  I used to get a little worried about getting lost, and even now I still get a little bored and/or lonely when I’ve been walking awhile.  Other days, I’m stuck in my house all day long waiting out one of our familiar Bocas rainstorms.  Either way, there’s the common theme of being alone and lonely.  Thanks to Massy, though, I never have to deal with that!  My sweet little jungle dog follows me wherever I go- if that means spending all day in our hut, he’ll be snuggled at my feet (as he is at this moment) and if that means going on a 9 hour hiking trip, than he’ll be leading the charge. 

Benefit #4: The people will love your new friend.

True story:  One day, early on in my service, Massy and I were hiking in the neighboring area.  We came across a family I hadn’t met yet and they asked me, “¿Cómo se llama?”  When I responded with my name, they replied, “No, not you.  That pretty dog.”  This has repeated itself many times, in many forms.  Everyone within a 3 hour walking radius of my town knows Massy’s name even though I’m not completely sure the same could be said for mine.  Despite the fact that many dogs here are underfed and neglected and NO dogs here receive the type of affection I give Massy, the people are enamored with him and frequently treat him quite differently than their own dogs.  In fact, many families are often quite excited to tell me that they’ve been sharing their people food with Massy and I can’t even begin to count the number of times people have begged for him when I finish my service. 

Though I like to think that Massy is special, it doesn’t seem like this phenomenon is unique to us.  If you check out the Peace Corps Pets photo album on Facebook, many owners mention the locals’ unique fascination with volunteers’ furry friends.

Benefit #5: Your house will be well guarded.

Though Massy knows and loves everyone in town, that doesn’t stop him from loudly alerting me to any and every approaching visitor.  Whether it’s a machete-welding man or a shy four-year-old girl, Massy is my little alarm system.  Funny enough- though Massy has never once bitten anyone or showed any type of human aggression, this simple act of barking at visitors has convinced the people that anyone who tried to break into my house or harm me would first have to face the wrath of my sweet little jungle dog.  They’re probably right. 

Benefit #6: Your pet can bring a little bit of Peace Corps home to the United States.

Sometimes when Massy and I lay sprawled out on my wooden floor, sweating from the humid Panama heat, I dream about what it will be like to take him running in a dog park in the beautiful, cool East Tennessee fall.  It certainly seems like bliss, especially in that overheated moment.  Before making the decision to adopt a pet as a Peace Corps volunteer, I did my research and was happy to learn that while still present, the costs of bringing my future dog home from Panama would not be too great.  Though I’m not sure exactly what my plan is yet or where I’ll be living, Massy has already got someone (other than me) quite important wrapped around his little paw- my farm owning dad.  So, while my first choice would obviously be to have my little buddy with me wherever I go, I know that he has somewhere to live that’s big and open with plenty of mud.  Taking Massy home will be like taking a little bit of my Peace Corps service home, and I can’t wait to see that little bit of my two worlds together. 

For those of you that have asked: Massy is named after my pre-Peace Corps dog, Sammy, who died just a few weeks after I arrived in Panama (switch the S and the M and Sammy becomes Massy). Like Sammy (Sam), Massy also frequently goes by a shortened version of his name (Mas).