It's been a while since I've blogged and, thankfully for me, I've finally gotten into the "busy season" of my job. So, after only having a few days at home over nearly a month, I was looking forward to a vacation quite a bit.
Before coming to Panama, Colombia was never on my list of places to visit. After all, the only Colombia that I knew of was certainly dangerous and not worth the time, expense, and risk to go there.
However, due to its close proximity and cheap costs, Colombia is a very popular vacation destination for volunteers in Panama, and it seemed that every person that visited the country returned with nothing but glowing reviews. After hearing so many good things about the people and places in Colombia, I finally decided to pack my bags and take the 50 minute flight to South America.
Let me tell you- those glowing reviews were not wrong. From our very first morning in Cartagena when a local man offered to share his breakfast with me when I couldn't decide what to order to our last day in Medellin when our AirBnB hosts spent the morning teaching me how to cook arepas, my trip to Colombia was filled with so many wonderful experiences with kind people, beautiful places, and great food. As those happen to be three of my favorite things, how could I not love it?
I'll be posting a few more blogs about the costs (unbelievably cheap), our favorite things to do, and why staying with a host family can be one of your favorite parts of a trip to Colombia. In the meantime, here are some of the photos from a country I will definitely be going back to.
If you’ve been following my blog for just about any amount of time you’ve probably read about the little puppy that wrangled his way into my heart and home during my first week in site...
As a refresher: I’ve loved dogs my entire life, and knew
that I would want a furry little companion to keep me company throughout the
ups and downs that every Peace Corps volunteer knows all too well. On my very first day visiting my future site
in Bocas del Toro, Panama, my host siblings eagerly showed off a litter of
newborn puppies to me. I picked one for
myself and named him Massy after my dog from home who had recently passed away
(switch the S and M and Sammy becomes Massy).
I lived in that village for two years, and it didn’t matter whether I
was hanging out in my house all day or hiking 15 miles to go camping, Massy
never left my side. Villagers became accustomed
to always seeing us together, and would happily volunteer to watch over him
when I had to make trips that he couldn’t come along for. It wasn’t long before everyone knew that
there was no way I would be able to leave my spotted little sidekick
behind.
My dad met Massy during his trips to Panama, and just like
the villagers who knew and loved my sweet, funny pup, happily offered to let
Massy live on our East Tennessee farm. Knowing that there was a place where he could
run around and be happy in the United States made everything easier, but it was
still to be determined exactly how and when the international move would take
place.
Fast forward to this past July, when I moved across country
to take a new job in Darien. Contrary to the rural village that I was
previously assigned to, Meteti is a sizeable (for Panama) city of about 5,000
people with busses and cars that blow right past my house throughout the
day. For my new job I’m frequently
traveling, usually on busses, and have no fenced in yard. Leaving my village, facilitating the export of
furry hijo, and starting a new job was more than I wanted to take on, so Massy
came along.
We spent two miserable days convincing bus drivers that no,
he wasn’t a bad dog; yes, he is clean; and please, please, won’t you please let
me take him with me before I cry…
Finally, we made it to the Darien and I was surprised at
well he adapted to his new home. Massy
is extremely social and loves to visit both people and dogs, so keeping him
locked in my house was impossible. He
seemed to know to stay out of the road when making his visiting rounds, and my
new neighbors thought it hilariously endearing that my dog, true to Panamanian
form, liked to pasear. We learned how to smuggle him onto busses by
slipping him into a woven bag so that he could accompany me on my work trips
and we realized that dogs, especially dogs disguised as babies or groceries
while on a bus, would always make great conversation starters.
Although I would have loved to keep him with me until I
finish my service in September, I always felt that I was just one step away
from a tragic accident that would take him away from me- the sound of buses
hitting a speed bump too fast had me running outside, the nights where Massy
didn’t want to come home until late had me wondering if someone had simply
taken him, and knowing that there were way too many potentially toxic things
that he could eat on the side of the road was more stressful than I
imagined.
The final straw was when I had to take a work trip without
him due to transportation limitations. The
friend who was taking care of him suddenly fell sick and had to be taken to
Panama City for treatment, and just like that, Massy was alone in a city where
I didn’t have anyone to watch out for him.
The next four days were tortuous- was he getting anything to eat? Had he been hit by a car? Had he simply run away because there was no
one for him to go to?
Thankfully, I returned to find Massy sitting in my front
yard, scanning faces until he saw mine.
Although I knew I would miss his goofy antics and his constant company,
I realized that knowing he was safe was more important.
As it turns out, dog people are drawn to each other- we’re a
friendly crew that can’t resist introducing ourselves to strangers in order to
pet their dogs. In such a manner, Massy
and I met Candido, a veterinarian working for the Department of
Agriculture. He told me that he had
worked in the Panama City airport overseeing the import and export of animals,
and that now he has a small business on the side to help foreigners navigate the
headache that is sending their own pets home.
We exchanged contact info, and a few weeks later I gave him a call.
Regulations and costs for importing animals into the United
States vary greatly depending on location, breed, and size of the animal. Lucky for me, Panama is one of the easier
countries, the flight is a short 3 hours, and Massy is a pretty small, very
well behaved dog.
Though there isn’t that much paperwork you have to complete
ahead of time, it’s all very
specific and easy to mess up. They must be translated into English and
Spanish (but line by line, as a separate page is invalid), some certifications
must be dated within 10 days of departure (but others must be dated at least
three months ahead of time), the dog must be present to receive some papers
(but other offices will not let you bring animals inside), some certifications
are free (but others you will need to first pay inside a random bank), and the
list goes on. It’s doable, but very,
very stressful. That’s where Candido
comes in- for a small fee, he completes all pre-departure preparations so that all
the pet owner had to do was to show up at the airport at the specified
time. I would say that means no hassles,
but if you have the luck I do, your taxi driver may decide not to pick you up
in the morning, you may have incorrectly estimated the weight of the crate
(causing more problems than believed), and you may have misread the line about
getting a copy of the receiver’s (my dad, in this case) ID.
Hassles aside, Massy arrived safely to the United States at
the end of October and my dad drove to Atlanta to pick him up from United’s
PetSafe division. I was the frantic dog
mom that almost cried when his crate was picked up by a forklift and taken away
and also requested the live tracking information that I would spend the day
refreshing. But, at the end of the day, Massy
was safe.
I had been planning on flying home for one of my best friend’s
wedding, so my dad and I timed it so that I would depart for the states a few
days after my dog in case any problem arose.
It was my first time back in America in over 14 months, but instead of
food, driving my own car, or other exciting things, the moment I was most
excited for was to be reunited with Massy. Judging by his reaction, I think it’s
safe to say that he was pretty excited too.
Massy now lives on my dad’s farm and loves hunting for
crawdads in our creek, running laps around the 15 acre property, and ensuring
the other 3 dogs he lives with get their daily amount of exercise. I was recently on home leave for a month and
loved the time I got to spend introducing Massy to his new country. We went to outdoor restaurants, walked
through the park, and even picked out a coat for his first winter. Since then, he’s learned how tasty American
dog food can be, how many laps of running it takes to burn trails into the
grass, and how comfortable sofas are, much to my dad’s feigned chagrin.
I’m back in Panama and these 8 months will be the
longest time we’ve ever been separated.
It makes me a little sad, especially when I hear about him sitting on
the front porch, scanning the people that drive by, or sleeping on the
pillowcase I used when I was there, but ultimately I know it was the best thing
for both of us and am eagerly awaiting our second reunion.
This past Friday was my 25th birthday, and for the first time ever, I was alone on my birthday... or so I thought.
Since we had just returned from a gloriously long vacation in the United States, my friends and I all had to return to our respective Peace Corps sites a few days before my birthday. Even though we made sure to celebrate early, I still felt a little weird knowing that I wouldn't be around the people I loved most on January 15.
I spent Thanksgiving alone too, and had planned to cook myself a fabulous meal and savor the time to myself. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a pretty sad and lonely day, and I wasn't about to have a repeat on my hands.
So, I made cookies.
Armed with little packages of pink, freshly baked cookies and wearing a birthday cake printed skirt, I
walked around town and handed them out to all of the people I regularly talk to- the people at the development agencies, the mother who lives down the road and loves to text me, my fruit and veggie stand owners, and even the guy that sells clothes at a booth on the side of the road.
I thought that it wouldn't be a fun birthday if I wasn't with my best friends, but I severely discounted how much fun can come out of sharing cookies with people. After all, who doesn't get excited when they get surprised with free dessert?
Some of the people sang to me, some offered birthday wishes, and one lady even prayed with me for my upcoming year. Their kindness gave me the much needed reminder that sometimes you have to go the extra mile to enjoy the friendship that could be there waiting on you.
So now, I just hope they'll bring me cookies on their birthdays too.
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?
Welcoming our new volunteers after their Swear In Ceremony
Three months ago I said goodbye to my sweet little community in Bocas del Toro and moved across the country to start my new job as the Regional Coordinator for Darien and Panama Este.
My days have been filled with site visits, meetings with communities and development agencies, adjusting to life outside the campo, and so, so many smoothies. While I'm still getting used to the loud noises of "city life" (there's a busy road right in front of my house) and miss my friends and nearly endless supply of fresh chocolate, life in the Darien has gotten off to a good start.
As an update to this blog about accepting my new position a few months back, here's what I'm up to nowadays:
Visiting volunteers- Volunteer support is a big part of my new role as Regional Leader, so I make a point to visit volunteers in their sites and listen to whats going on- the good, the bad, and the ugly (Peace Corps volunteers can have some of the grossest issues imaginable.) I also like to meet a few community members while I'm there, since seeing their love and respect for their volunteer is one of the sweetest things to brighten up my day.
Hosting volunteers- Since I live in the regional hub, many volunteers stay at my house on the way into or out of their sites. It can be really challenging and stressful to serve as a volunteer in remote access sites, so I love to surprise visitors with homemade dinners or a package of cookies to go. Massy has taken to his role as house dog quite well and also likes to encourage volunteers with ample snuggles and excited tail waggles.
He seems to be adapting quite nicely.
Developing relationships with development agencies and NGOs- Peace Corps volunteers come into their communities with little to no money for projects, with the goal of obtaining locally sustainable projects and funding. Oftentimes we work as the link between our rural communities and Panamanian and/or international development agencies. When campaigning for your cause, it always helps to have an in with the people that make decisions about what communities receive projects, so another big part of my job is building relationships between Peace Corps and these gatekeepers and decision-makers. I've had to completely re-learn how to network, since many of the things that would be a definite "No" in the United States are very common here. For example, it is very common to text about business , use personal email addresses and phone numbers, and to start a meeting without asking all about the other person's family, children, birthday party that happened last week would be considered rude. My personal secret weapon to Panamanian agency relations? Bringing a home baked cake. It works every time.
Planning regional events- In addition to quarterly meetings for all regional volunteers and office representatives, I also plan agency visits and fun volunteer activities. Peace Corps Panama volunteers generally get together after each regional meeting to do something fun and spend time together. Regions like Bocas del Toro and Cocle (and essentially every province except for Darien) have beautiful beaches, but out here on the East side we have to be slightly more creative. So, every few months we host a big goat roast. It's a fun day filled with cooking, friends, and so much food, and it was my job to plan it. I kept waiting on something to ruin it (there's no way I could get lucky enough for it to turn out well the first time...) but other than our goat arriving 3 hours later and 30 pounds heavier than promised, it was a great day.
The Darien + Este volunteers
Goat Roast Time!
Scouting for future Peace Corps communities- One of my favorite parts of this job has been to see all of the work that goes into preparing a community before the volunteer even arrives in country. In Panama, communities must formally request a volunteer and then host town meetings to present the future host family and community guide to Peace Corps representatives. Seeing their anticipation and calming their worries has been one of the sweetest and most eye-opening experiences thus far.
"What if they don't like our food?"
"You're sure it's okay we can't give them electricity?"
"Can the blue-eyed ones see in the dark like cats?"
"Are they going to get married and have babies and live here forever?"
Oftentimes I feel like volunteers (myself included) can get so wrapped up in their own experiences that we forget that our new neighbors and community members have also worked and sacrificed so that we can be part of their families and homes. As I help to prepare communities to receive volunteers, I appreciate so much more my own community. I may have a new house across the country, but my sweet village will always be my Panamanian home.
“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."
