February 2002 - Page 2

"He was cool. He gave me gas."

-Bruce

"I’m not gullible. I just trust that people aren’t lying to me."

-Toni

"Do you guys ever find that there’s too much month left at the end of your money?"

-John Mincks

"I’ll be right back after my funeral."

- Janice

"Hey Dennis, did you notice me humping your leg?"

-Keith to Dennis after their Kareoke performance to Tone Loc

"Oh, boy, do I wanna bang!"

-Pricess in Costa Rica while listening to a certain Ricky Martin selection

Composting Latrines

http://inside.peacecorps.gov/content/documents/agency/interm_ms_542. pdf

Inappropriate use of Peace Corps provided Internet service includes: *Any personal use that could cause congestion, delay, or disruption of service to any government system or equipment. Examples of uses include, but are not limited to: greeting cards, large file attachments (including video and sound), "push" technology on the Internet such as Pointcast services, and continuous data streaming such as RealPlayer services. (Approval for business use must be obtained through IRM.)

Culturally Challenged: Ideas from an RPCV

Por: Tia Schlaikjer

I am now an official RPCV and I have been living in New York for the past three months. It is funny how the readjustment feels harder than the original "adjusment" to Panama! I am finding that I entered Peace Corps for a challenge, an adventure, and a willingness to experience anything that was thrown in front of me. Re-entry to the states is a whole different ball game. You return to friends and family who just don’t understand where you have been and what you have gone through. It is a challenge to explain and re-explain all trying to stay within that "ten minute rule" taught at COS where you are taught to have your story all chopped down into a nice block of ten minutes otherwise your listeners stop listening. This by the way, I have found to be impossible! No matter how hard I try to tell my concise little story there always seem to be more questions. I find that I am the one who stops listening to what I am saying. Rather, I am regurgitating a long-winded tale that has passed over my lips hundreds of times to interested, un-cultured Americans.

It is funny how the foreign culture seemed so much more exciting and new to learn. I was learning and experiencing everyday in Panama. Now here in the states, I am merely reminded of the forgotten culture from which I came. I say forgotten because, when I do venture out into the world, past the comfort of my parent’s house, I do in fact encounter many new experiences. The difference here is that they are experiences that I had when I used to be a permanent resident, but now I am experiencing them truly as a foreigner to my own land. I would like to share a few examples.

I was in the post office a week before Christmas trying to mail a precious letter to a close Panamanian family. I had just one letter and I had the exact eighty cents in change to pay the post office worker. Well, the line was out the door of this little podunck-home-town post office but I decided to wait. Waiting is something I am used to. How many hours did it sometimes take me to wait for a chiva?? Well, waiting and patience are not in the high literary vocabulary of New Yorkers (or any other American except southerners!). As I was going in a woman pushed ahead of me with a huge box and plopped it right down in front of me at my feet and then rushed back outside. The line, however, started to move, so I gingerly stepped around the box and got closer to the counter. All of a sudden the woman appeared again this time with another huge box! She again pushed through all of the people and this time started yelling at me saying she was ahead of me! What nerve!! She never asked me to hold her spot and she surely wasn’t being very nice. Well, I kept my calm of course and said, "Ma’am this line isn’t going anywhere, but patience is a virtue and because I have so much of it I am more than willing to let you go ahead of me". Well, she just didn’t know what to say! When it came time for one of us to go to the counter I told her to go ahead but she refused and said, "Oh no, I see now that you only have one letter". It took me a second to get the stamp and get out the door and I looked back only to see her struggling to haul her boxes up to the counter holding up the line. Patience…learn it, love it!

The second revelation that I would like to share is one that involves a new machine, well, new to me anyway. (Now this one’s for you Bruce if you are reading!) I was visiting a friend in VA and she and her husband had recently moved into this beautiful new apartment with all the trimmings. I was in the kitchen washing dishes in the sink (my new favorite chore in the states!), when I noticed a hole in the middle with some sort of rubber-like coating around the top. When I asked my friend about it she said it was the garbage disposal. I thought, what the heck is it doing in the sink?! We need to use the kitchen garbage for abono, fertilizer to help the soil, not wash it down some pipe! Well, she turned it on to show me, it made a horrific loud churning noise and then to my surprise all of the kitchen waste was gone down the tubes! Good thing no fingers got caught in there! I still don’t really know where exactly the waste ends up, they tell me since it is a city it goes into the sewer but where that actually empties out is anyone’s guess. My point here is that all of the good kitchen waste of egg shells, bones, odds and ends of food get churned up into this juice and gets flushed away. I had been in Panama teaching about how important all of these nutrients were to add to compost heaps and bochachi piles while my own compatriots were busy flushing it all away!! Man, there’s a lot of work to do out there to try and educate people about the importance of their impact on the world. I just don’t think my friend, though, will ever get the full picture.

Now, don’t get me wrong here, life in the states isn’t all that bad, it is just a lot to readjust back to. I wanted to take time and share my stories with fellow PCV’s who may actually understand where I am coming from. So, thanks for listening! Just remember, Peace Corps is an amazing experience. Please learn from it, grow from it and educate with it. Only you have the tools to get as much as you can from your own experience and in the end it is up to you to use that knowledge. As for adjusting…whether you are adjusting to a Ngabe site, Bugle site, Embera site, Kuna site, Latino site or New York site, remember to have an open mind and be willing to go with the flow. Poco a poco, little by little, things will work out. Finding a host country friend that lives in your site or near your site can help a lot. Confiding in friends and having people there for you cheering you on and helping you through the hard times is what will help you make it through. Keep climbing every mountain and searching for your way. God never closes a door unless he opens a window along the way, as the old Sound of Music and my Mom tell us. It may seem dark and difficult when you are there but plugging on will help you to feel successful when you look back.

So, saludos and abrazos to all! Keep up the good work and know that many people are pulling for you guys stateside!

-Eat and drink what you are given or take it and save it in a leaf to eat later.

-Try always to be kind and friendly even if they are not responsive to you (culture thing).

-Try to bath in the river with clothes on or at least with a shirt over your bathing suit.

-Staying at a host families house, always bring food to share…could be rice and beans or fruit. It’s like the states don’t show up to someone’s house without a small offering.

-Be extra careful when there is drinking going on. Nasty fights can break out at any moment between men or women or both.

-Stay away from known "cantinas" where they sell alcohol or chicha fuerte especially when it is party time. Especially girls!

-Once in your sites try and make visits to everyone. Don’t leave people out, at least not in the beginning.

-Stay in contact with fellow volunteers who can help you with charlas and seminars or during down times.

-Have a space that is your sanctuary. This may be hard and may take a few months before you have your own room or own house or own spot by the riverbank. It is ok to tell little begging children to leave they always come back! (a fact I didn’t learn until the very end!)

-Write in your journal, make lists of things to do and lists of goals you want to set for yourself. Make small goals that you know you can accomplish easily, once completed it will give you a sense of accomplishment.

-Visit other Ngabe-Bugle volunteers and see what they do and how they interact with their community. Everyone is different but you just might learn some good tips. (like getting rid of the kids, thanks Kristen!)

-Know when you need a break and be ok with taking it. It is all right to take a break away from your sight and get a rest. Go into town and eat ice cream, do your email and rejuvenate yourself. Take a step back from it all and look at the big picture. Sometimes our own batteries get low and we need to recharge them once in a while. Know your limits, getting out may be best all around, you will come back fresh and ready to get your job done.

a·it (hey) or the equivalent of the saloma

By Noelia

As it turns out, each day that passes I belong to Chichica a little bit more. I belong to this place where the stars shine bright against a clear night sky, where the people speak some version of the Spanish learned in training and where the water ‘se fue’ at any time without warning.
 

I Dream of Panama

by Jae (No Longer the Chinita) Junkunc

Have you ever sat in a meeting in Panama and dreamed of the States? Have you dreamed of cars, the food, clean clothes, the hot water? If your answer is no, you’re lying. I came to Panama virtually straight from the safe confines of a cubicle and will return to the cubicle when I finish. However, this time when I sit in a meeting in the States, I will no longer dream of how today’s Dilbert reflects my reality. Instead, I will dream of Panama.

I dream of my hammock, the most uncomfortable hammock ever made, but my savior. I hear the birds chirp as I look out at the best vista in Panama. I watch the clouds move, knowing the sky will never again look like it does now.

I dream of the safety of sleeping under the mosquito net, knowing that somewhere a scorpion lurks. I remember the two times I almost ET’ed because a scorpion was just too close for comfort.

I dream of the naguas, the chacaras, the bright blue, red, and green pants. I hear the Ngäbe jokes as that go straight over my head. I see the people laugh even harder when they look at me.

I dream of the old couple next door and hear "¡Buca Conejo! ¡Buca Conejo!" I see the old woman paying me a visit, standing at my porch and not saying a word. "¿Drekwe?" "Nada. Basare" she says in her bruja voice.

I dream of being at an artisan meeting, led by Celia who perhaps was never trying to kill me. I see the women laugh as I tell them that my chacara I started 11 months ago is still not finished.

I dream of the sounds of Panama: Pssst, Chinita…Bocas, Almirante, Changuinola...Bueno Pues…Brän…Bocas, Almirante, Changuinola…Dame plata…El echa pa´lante… Bocas, Almirante, Changuinola...Hello…a la orden…Bocas, Almirante, Changuinola.

I dream of sleeping on the floor in Potrerillos Arriba counting my blessings that Christy lets me stay. I smell the food she cooked with the groceries I bought–just like a good married couple.

I dream of Carnaval and the little boy in La Chorrera who shot me with his water gun but not Princess who was right next to me. I feel the wet clothes as I walk through Penenomé picking

fights with 6-year-old kids. I can hear Princess screaming "Stop that, Chinita!" as she takes a gallon of water in the face.

I dream of my first meeting in Quebrada de Loro. I hear that "We want a new aqueduct, latrines, phone, hospital, road, and artisan house." Yeah, and I want a site with hot water.

I dream of lying in the Centro de Salud in San Félix. I can hear the arguments. "She’s JICA." "But her file says Peace Corps." I can feel the nurse poking and prodding my stomach as if I were a lab assignment in biology.

I dream of Las Lajas and Cost Rica and my first Christmas away from family. I hear the ocean waves and the words "give me the Deet!" I see the monkey faking us out as he eyes Amy’s lunch and then grabs mine.

I dream of hitting my head on the metal bars above me as 16 of us bounce around the chiva. I feel each bump which makes the ride feel like we’re whitewater rafting in a pickup truck. I can see the woman across from me breast feeding while I hang on for dear life with both hands.

I dream of boiled bananas, boiled yucca, boiled otoy and boiled ñame. I feel my buddha expanding with each bite. I taste the granola bar I stuff into my mouth afterwards.

I dream of Nani, Friskies, Pinky, and Preciosa. I am trying to justify why I feed them boli queso and nothing to the hungry kids. I feel Nani breathing as she sleeps on my stomach in the hammock.

I dream of Lidice and the view of Mt. Trinidad. I hear "Estamos vendiendo pollos." I am thankful for my host mother who did my laundry four times that week. (Never will I ever work for Purdue).

I dream of being in Oriente del Risco with Sara and our host Julia. I wonder if I would have made it two years without them. I laugh at Julia who is still in Panama. Will she ever come home??

I dream of Santa Clara, AVC, Isla Grande, Fourth of July, and the COS Conference. I remember being part of the "statistically perfect" group. I wonder what everyone is doing now.

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