If You Were to Visit My Village

If you were to visit my village, I’d tell you to bring a camera, your clothes, and a good pair of boots, but to please, please not get carried away with all of the newest gadgets and accessories a good outdoors store will make you feel like you need.  Life here is simple, and no, you won’t get malaria, yellow fever, or rabies from visiting me in the jungle.  Bocas is quite rainy and muddy though, so I’ll make no promises about mild cases of bug bites or jungle rash.

If you were to visit my village, I’d spend the week before you arrived planning out the meals we would eat so that we could buy groceries in the neighboring town where I would come to pick you up.  We would pay $1 to ride the local chiva for about 20 minutes, and then the choice would be yours- $12 for a private truck to take us all the way to my town, or a 40 minute hike down a gravel road, stopping to enjoy the beautiful mountain views a long the way.  The amount of stuff you’ve brought will probably make the decision for us. 

If you were to visit my village, you’d probably be struck by how sparse the town center is (6 houses, 1 2-room school, and a tiny store managed out of one of the homes) and wonder where all the people are.  Within a few hours though, my neighbors would hear that you’re here and would start arriving at my house to introduce themselves and offer to be our guide for a trip around the area.  Would we like to see the waterfalls?  Do you feel like working on the chocolate farm for a day?  Could we possibly come eat dinner with them the next evening? 

If you were to visit my village, you would likely love to spend the day reading in a hammock, but at some point (if it’s not raining), I’ll force you to go visit my neighbors with me.  Having lived here for a while, I know that if we don’t visit them, they’ll feel insulted.  So you and your boots and me and my bare feet will walk down the path to visit.  Because you’re a visitor, they’ll probably make us hot chocolate and a plate of food, and even if you speak Spanish, they’ll talk through me as if you don’t.  Don’t take it personally; they did it to me too.  After a few minutes, the conversation will come to a lull, and you’ll probably feel like it’s time to leave.  That’s just because you’re new though, and I’ll insist that we must stay for at least another half hour and sit through the silence by making faces at children and doing our best not to feel awkward (because this is how my villagers do it.) If we leave too soon, that would also be an insult. 

The time you spend in my village, whether 2 days or a week, will be normal for those of us who live here, but full of wonder and excitement if this is your first visit (especially applicable to non-Peace Corps Volunteers).  Yes, I always have fresh chocolate and bananas at my house, yes we do have to bathe in the creek if the water goes out, and no, the stars aren’t always that bright- sometimes it gets a little cloudy. 

Panama from Dad's Perspective

Imagine your daughter, a girl you love, cherish and have always tried to protect, moving to a Third World country (Abby’s note: Panama is not a third world country.  We’re considered “developing”), living in a community of local indigenous, with no electricity or running water (We usually have running water… it was just out during his visit), for 26 months.  Many Peace Corps parents have experienced this very phenomenon since 1962 when John F. Kennedy first created what has become a shining example of young Americans volunteering in the most difficult of circumstances.

Abigail “Abby” Lauren Bryant graduated from Saint Vincent College, Latrobe, Pennsylvania in May of 2013 with a degree in Business Administration.  A year prior to that, in May of 2012, she had decided to apply for a position with the Peace Corps, and after various levels of scrutiny, was accepted in February of 2013.  I was not surprised that she was accepted as she has always been very driven, setting goals and achieving them. 

As with many fathers, I always did my best to keep her safe.  We lived in very safe area, and I maintained contact with personnel at both her high school and college.  While trying not to be bothersome, I was known on a first-name basis.  Dave, the Vice President of Admissions at Saint Vincent, was my main contact and the individual who helped me to know that Abby was safe in college.

When you become a Peace Corps parent, it is very difficult because you truly fear for your child’s safety.  I could not pick up a telephone and check with a “Dave” to see how Abby was doing.  Because of the very poor cellular service where Abby was/is assigned, I also found that I could not call her whenever I felt the need or desire.  She would call if and when she had service.

I am grateful for the opportunities to visit Abby and her community and I would strongly encourage every Peace Corps parent to do the same.  Shortly after she left in June of 2013, we made arrangements for me to visit her for Christmas and New Year.

Abby lives in **** (for security reasons, I prefer not to share the name of my town online), Bocas del Toro, Panama.  Her village (“her people” as she so often refers to them) is populated by approximately 250 Ngäbe indigenous people.  It was during that first visit that I became comfortable with the fact that Abby was “safe.” In a conversation with Juan Castillo, the patriarch of a large family (10 children and untold grandchildren), translated by Abby, told me not to worry because when I was not with her, he was her “Father.”  I knew I could trust him and it certainly helped with some of my concerns.

There is a true sense of community in ****.  One of the most important things to do during both of my visits to her community was to pasear, that is, “To spend time with your neighbors.”  It is also part of the tradition to give the visitor something to eat or drink.  I enjoyed some truly interesting, local drinks of coffee, hot chocolate, and fresh coconut water that I drank straight from the coconut at the house of Pedro and Chevela.

Speaking of homes, as a visiting Peace Corps parent, I have felt very welcome into homes of people who speak a different language than me.  With Abby interpreting, I got to know many in her community, and I believed Abraham Castillo when he told me I was part of their community.  I had the opportunity to show my gratitude this most recent visit when I purchased a whole pig that was cooked over an open fire and served as part of the 2015 New Year celebration.  In addition to my many pictures with “Abby’s people”, some of my most prized possessions are the chakaras given to me Ramon and Avilia Tera and Juan Castillo’s family.  And last year, I was given the opportunity to purchase a hand-made hammock from Juan’s wife.  After I learned how many hours went into making the chakaras and the hammock, I can truly say that these gifts will be displayed in my own home with much pride.

As a Peace Corps volunteer, Abby has further developed her strong sense of character, has demonstrated an uncanny ability to do so much with so little, and has learned important lessons that will serve her the rest of her life.  I also know from talking with her that her fellow Peace Corps volunteers will be friends for life.

Is it hard to be a Peace Corps parent?  You bet it is.  However, the joy of seeing your child accomplish so much in a very trying atmosphere and the opportunity to share in her community is but one of the many trade-offs a parent gets when your precious daughter leaves for a place that seems, at times, unknown.

To my dad- Thanks for putting up with all the hiking, lack of amenities, and "extras" that come along with campo life!  I'm sure your visit will be the talk of the town for years to come... literally :)

Trading Sparkles for Chacos and Celebrating 2014

While I have always loved spending New Years Eve getting dressed up  and taking tons of photos with friends while playing Dick Clark's TV special, this year may take the cake for my favorite so far.

There weren't fancy outfits (or makeup for that matter), but there was plenty of rice, friendship, and locally grown coffee.  To my surprise, there was even fireworks and a *tiny* glass of wine!

Although my dad and I had originally planned to spend NYE on Bocas Island, absolutely everything was booked, and we decided to celebrate the coming of 2014 with my small village on the mainland.  Though I certainly love the island, I have to say, I'm glad things turned out the way they did.

We ventured out to town that morning to pick up fireworks and food, but were surprised to see that every. single. bus. was full by the time it got to my stop.  Three and a half hours and a few headaches later, we finally finished what is normally a 15 minute trip.  Stocked up, we returned to my little village to start preparations for the evening.

A small group of villagers who live near the center of town took charge, and together we prepared coffee and cookies, soup, rice, and a small cake (That last one was my contribution).  The one family who owns a solar panel put a movie on their laptop and over 20 men, women, and children eagerly gathered around to watch a Spanish subtitled movie while waiting for the clock to strike 12.

Instead of the usual countdown at midnight, the party host gave a small speech and then we shot off several fireworks and burned a stuffed scarecrow.  Burning these "dolls" of the old year symbolizes letting go of the past and any bad memories associated with it.  If only I had gotten a before picture!