I was packing up the last of my things to move out of my
host family’s house and into my own rental house, and at the same time pack up
my things for a week spent in Panamá City followed by a day at another
volunteer’s site, and remembering the few things still hanging out on the
clothesline, I thought to myself, “Whatever you do, don’t forget your towel.”
I couldn’t help but smile to myself – a line straight out
of Douglas Adams’ A Hitchhiker’s Guide to
the Galaxy. And fitting: I often
feel like a hitchhiker in the galaxy, making it up as I go, not really
understanding what is going on all the time, trying to figure all the strange
rules and ways of doing things here. But
I do try ever so hard to be prepared for all of it. Or at least be patient and flexible.
“Any man that can hitch the length and breadth of the
Galaxy, rough it, slum it, struggle against terrible odds, win through and
still know where his towel
is, is clearly a man to be reckoned with.”
I have certainly had my patience and flexibility tested
for the last couple months. November and
December are filled with parades and holidays and also are primary months for
cacao harvesting, so it is a season of great expense but also great income;
mostly it is just very busy, so people are rarely able to keep their
commitments to the plans that we make.
This had been very frustrating, especially for one who rather likes to
plan, who keeps an agenda book, who tries to be reliable.
Equally frustrating is the complete inability to quantify
anything. I don’t know if this is a
fault of communication or of knowledge or of interest. When I ask for directions somewhere, mostly
the response is, “over there.” If I’m
lucky, they will even point in the direction with their hands. Mostly, they will just point with their
lips. When I ask when something is going
to happen, or long it will take, or how long it lasted, responses are usually
“in a little bit” or “later” or “a while” or “not very long.” Rarely is there actually a time or a quantity
of minutes associated with any time-related questions. When I ask how many times something happens,
like, “How often do your kids eat candy?” while I’m doing my surveys, or “How
many days were you without water this month?” responses are usually “now and
then” or “several.” The best is the
circular question about rain:
“How many times were you without water?”
“When it was summer.”
“How long did summer last?”
“While it didn’t rain.”
“How many days did it not rain?”
“Oh, it depends.
Sometimes it doesn’t rain for a day, or three days, sometimes for a
week, sometimes for a month.”
“So when does summer happen?”
“When it doesn’t rain.”
This difficulty in quantifying things is especially
frustrating for an engineer.
I could go on, but instead I’ll just talk about pictures!
The agricultural brigade in the Almirante parade, for the
Day of Independence from Colombia – really enjoyed the machete routine they did.
We had a meeting to discuss strengths, opportunities, weakness,
and threats in the community – and we did the “human knot” icebreaker – or at
least tried really hard to do it.
Went to measure the flow of a few springs with a few
different groups to begin exploring the possibility of building aqueducts.
Kittens! The week
before I moved out of my host family’s house, the cat decided to have her
kittens… on my mattress, the one night that I was in Changuinola for
amoebas. I guess that means that I will
get to claim one?
“Ngӧbe cookies” – these are “no-bake cookies” – perfect for
the campo, because you don’t need an oven!
Made with my host family’s home-grown, home-ground, and home-made
chocolate, I’ve decided that “no-bake cookies” sounds enough like “Ngӧbe
cookies” to make for a good pun. These
were my contribution to our Thanksgiving dinner that we held in Panamá City,
and they were a huge hit.
Trying to make naguas look fashionable
Learning to braid the strap of a bag
Cool tree, leaves smell like cinnamon
Cool plants!
More pretty views!
