What I can see from my window

Here are a few pictures from my windows of my house, of my wonderful neighbors. Everyday is a different scene, always interesting.







My life is moving along rapidly. I have lived in my community for almost one year and I can say that I am happy here. It is always challenging, but also always fun and an incredible experience. I recently went on a little adventure to collect a certain leaf that people eat cooked with coconut milk. They call it Sega. So I set out with my three neighbor kids on our adventure as they showed me all sorts of wild fruits and leaves that you can eat. Little did I know that I would soon be up to the middle of my thighs in mud, almost losing my boots and my balance. I was laughing and yelping as I almost fell over, but they told me that when you harvest these leaves, you have to be very quiet, because if you talk to much or too loud, the leaves taste bitter. Also, if your mother is scolding you and you talk back, the leaves will taste bitter, but if you tell her "okay mom, I will try harder next time" the leaves taste sweet as can be. We had a fabulous time tromping in the mud, trying to catch crabs and little fish in the meanwhile. And we cooked the leaves up that night with coconut and it seems like we did a good job, because they turned out soooo sweet and delicious.

A few scenes from my life

A few drops of the large amount of rain we receive here
my neighbor in a breadfruit tree outside my house
Me in Panama city near the canal

Photos thanks to Jake Moriarty, since my camera broke in October!

Time to head to the polls

People are waiting in lines blocks long, for hours on end, to get their identification cards so they can vote in the upcoming election. A new president will be elected next Sunday. Meanwhile, until Sunday, the country stands in almost a standstill anticipating the results. But as the people in the rural countryside have known for quite some time, their lives will continue on the same without too much variation as the political parties rotate through.
Much of what politics in the campo amounts to here is how much food a politician brings to a community when they give their campaign speeches. And so we continue working here in the campo, with a little more food in the belly.

My humble abode

I live in a beautiful little wooden house on stilts with a thatch roof, up on a hill overlooking the Bocas del Toro Islands and the Caribbean ocean. It might be the coolest house I ever own. We built it from the base up, cut down the trees (don’t worry, we are planting more) and constructed it with the help of my community members. I now continue to build things for my house; shelves, a bathroom and shower, rain collection system, table, benches, dish rack, etc. It sometimes feels like paradise, that is until a child starts screaming in the house 7 feet away at 3am, or a funeral procession passes under my house, or whatever other event takes place. But the message is, that I have a wonderful little home to live in and for visitors to come stay in. So to all my friends and family, come visit whenever you like, just give me an email heads up for when you might come hang out in this new humble abode!

Water is the source of life

The last few weeks, I have been supporting an extended part of my community to fight for their right to clean water. Over the last three years, they have been working with the Ministry of Health to receive a new aqueduct with the capability to provide clean water to all houses. Due to a disagreement with another nearby community, the Ministry of Health postponed the aqueduct project, threatening to give the resources away to another community. In a meeting this morning, the two communities fought for their rights. It was quite moving. The children of the school walked out in their little uniforms holding signs, making their own silent protest.

“ El agua es la fuente de vida, sin ella no podemos vivir”
“ Water is the source of life, without it, we cannot live”

“Necesitamos agua para limpiar nuestra escuela”
“We need water to clean our school”

“Podemos vivir sin luz, pero sin agua no podemos vivir. Tenemos derecho a vivir y a agua limpia”
We can live without electricity, but without water, we cannot live. We have a right to live and to have clean water.

They all looked up with eyes so big. And it is true. We cannot live without water. Without clean water, we cannot live fully. Without a clean source of water, the people collect water from nearby streams, the same streams that others use as a latrine. More directly said, people shit in the same streams which they drink out of. Through this form, stomach parasites including worms and amoebas are passed on. I have consistently had diarrea since February. And when you are in this state, you can’t work fully, you feel drained. And I even have had access to outside medicine. The case is much worse for those who cannot afford to leave the community to buy medicine, the majority.
The necessity of clean water made the answer so clear. But still, 3 hours of fighting and arguing followed in the meeting. Unfortunately, Ngobes maintain their original strength that allowed them to prevail over other local tribes, winning wars and outnumbering the others, the response to fight, to defend, even when unnecessary. But as is often the truth, a strength may rapidly change to a vice. But after incessant arguments and various political roundabouts, both communities will receive a new aqueduct, and the people will have water, hopefully allowing them to work harder and to advance.

The Chickens are coming!! The chickens are coming!!!!

I have spent the last week and a half spreading this propaganda, like the little chicken telling all the world “the sky is falling, the sky is falling!!!”. As of April 1st, a truck full of 1,100 little chicks were scheduled to arrive in my community for my group of 22 farmers that I am working with, sent by the Ministry of Agriculture. We have been working with the Ministry of Agriculture’s program which gives resources to rural farmers to plant gardens, raise fish, chickens, goats and so on. It has gone incredibly well so far, with the cooperation of the Ministry and all the hard work of the farmers in my community.
Last Wednesday, the chickens were scheduled to arrive. I ran around the day before reminding everyone that they needed to have their chicken coops ready with dry sawdust and everything. Wednesday came and no chickens. They all died in the truck bringing them from the other side of the country in the hot Panamanian sun. So we were told that Monday would be the day. Friday morning, while a I was happily sitting on my porch building a shelf for my house and helping a little neighbor girl make a pair of earrings out of seeds she collected, I got a phone call. “ The chickens are coming today, at noon!” It was 10am. I had 2 hours to inform 22 farmers that the chickens were going to arrive and that they all needed to be present to receive them. That act might be easier if everyone had phones or lived closeby, but many live between half hour and forty five minute walk away. It was a daunting task to complete. I sent out messengers, used all my phone minutes to call those who have cell phones, and ran around like a chicken with my head cut off yelling that the sky is falling. Or that is how I felt. At 11:30am, I had informed 21 out of 22 farmers and was 2 minutes away from arriving at the last house, which lies down a very steep hill, when my phone rang. “The chickens aren’t coming!!” “Oh damn! But all the farmers are already coming!” So I ran in reverse, retracting my propaganda.

So we prepared ourselves for the following Wednesday. Everyone was ready, so excited for the pollitos. We even played a game where everyone had to pretend they were little chickens. And then I got a phone call. “Kati, the chickens aren’t coming today. Only 300 arrived and we want to bring them all together”. So I had to break the sad news that “the chickens aren’t coming”. The rain rolled in and everyone looked a little more glum. I told them that I was sad and frustrated and they told me “ Don’t worry Kati, there’s nothing we can do and now we have to time to prepare better for the arrival of all the little chickens! Lets play another game.”

Life as it was in February

Overall, I feel calm, happy, relaxed, content and excited. As I rode along in the little bus today on my way back to my community after a agency meeting, listening to the radio, Panamanian version of yodeling combined with guitar and accordion, swerving down the road, just missing people, bikers, landslides, fallen trees, anteaters, and anything else in the path, I thought to myself how happy I am. I wouldn´t change my decision to come here and have these experiences for anything in the world.
But that is overall.
There are times when I miss home, when I am frustrated, when I am overwhelmed at how hard this is, but that is part of the joy and reward of it all. There are happy times and really hard times.
I have spent my month helping my womens group with organizational and leadership skills, leading a teen youth camp on self confidence, personal development, and sex, HIV and AIDS education. I took 2 teens from my community to the other side of the country for this seminar, kids who had never traveled further than the small town half an hour away from the community. The seminar was held in a beautiful place. When we arrived, we walked the grounds looking at the gardens and the lovely pond, complete with ducks. Upon seeing these duck, the boy traveling with me told me he would like to bring his slingshot to shoot the ducks to eat. I taught the girl to use a flush toilet and helped them have a fabulous time away from home. At the end, neither one wanted to leave and go back home.
Other days I spent working with 17 farmers leading them in constructing their own home gardens and planting rice and corn. I somehow got 17 grown ngabe men to participate playing a few games, giggling like children. Sometimes though, I feel really underqualified when these 17 farmers who have been farming all their lives turn to me and say "Kati, what do we do now?". But we are learning together, making our way. Everyone now has tomatoes, ´peppers, cucumbers, squash and beans growing in their gardens which they look forward to harvesting and eating with their families.
I walk around my community and twirl kids around, humor my neighbors when they tell me silly tales, laughing up a storm. The other day they told me about the Red Chinese that live in glass houses under the sea that eat people of the ngabe race ( I think this corresponds to a historic tale of a submarine appearing in the mouth of a really large river sometime in the 1940s). They asked me if I would fight a red chinese if they came chasing after me. I told them i would be too scared and would just have to run and hide in the bushes. They told me they would join me. They then, and now every day since, have asked me to give the example of how I would run hysterically into the bushes. And I humor them, running hysterically into the bushes.
I am learning so much here. My most recent lessons have been in Ngabe culture. My new neighbors practice a traditional religion called Mama Tata. Cacao is a crucial part of this religion. Whenever needed, my neighbors ask the local shaman to grant the right to have a 4 day celebration . They drink cacao (Hot chocolate, but without milk or sugar, just dark) from a big pot in the center of the room with a gourd cup, from 7pm till 12pm for 4 days straight. They put up special plants as an entrance to the house and burn termite nests to fend off bad spirits and wish for good health.
But unfortunately, good health isnt always to be found. Most children here are malnourished, not starving, just not getting enough of the right nutrients that growing kids need. Sunday, a man asked to borrow my hand grinder to grind up some food for his sick daughter. He then asked me to give him money to buy vitamins for his daughter. But everyone here asks me for money, or salt, or sugar, or whatever they come up with. And I just can{t always hadn out things, because it isnt sustainable and will not help them into the future. It doesnt change anything, it is only a temporary remedy and often times the money is just wasted anyways. So I lent him my grinder and we compromised on me visiting on thursday to see what kind of sickness she had. She died on tuesday, at age 2 of malnutrition. All I could do on thursday was console a crying devestated dad who has now lost three children to malnutrition. It was too late to ask for help, but that doesnt mean that I didnt cry too.
These are the hardest things I will ever face. I almost feel like I am being unfair sharing these sad stories, since it breaks my heart, but it has to be known that it isnt all pink clouds and candy gum drops here. Oh what those kids would do for gum drops to be falling from the sky.Oh but their poor little rotting teeth.
Little by little here, working for the future.