September

I am in my last month in my community in Panama.  Everyone in my community is aware of my departure date, and it is a common topic of conversation.  I feel almost like I have an upcoming “death day” because conversations have been so morbid lately.  They say, “so you’re leaving us para siempre [for always]?”.  I promise that I will come back some day to visit.  They cackle. Sure.

In terms of work, I am ready to move on.  Another Environmental Health volunteer Seneca has already been living with a host family in my community for 2 months, and is eager to continue with the aqueduct and health related work.  I feel confident that the unfinished water project lies in capable hands between Seneca and the community.  

Leaving my community will be like yanking out an only a slightly wiggly tooth though -  I’m so used to living here now.  I talk to my pets in Spanish.  My body gets mad at me when I eat meat or dairy.  Only the first cold bucket of water bites when I take a shower.  I love rice.  I can pack my bag to go within 10 minutes.  I never leave to go anywhere after 3 pm without a flashlight.  I sleep whenever it’s dark out.  I don’t even care that I don’t understand everything in indigenous Ngaberi. 

But I don’t mind leaving all of that rusticness behind.  I will mostly miss individual people and their stories.  My host mom and her illness of the day.  My neighbor and his loud Christian singing that serves as my radio.  My favorite 2-year old whose first word was Bechi, I swear, and who now talks in complete sentences.  Etc, etc.

When coming to Panama I expected I would adore my future community a whole lot, because when have I not fallen in love with a foreign place that I have visited?  I predicted correctly.  I did not, however, predict the quantity and quality of volunteer friendships to come.  Being able to reflect on my experiences so regularly in person and over the phone has made the whole thing a  lot more humorous and bearable.  I now know the limits under which any friendship should be tested – an hour and a half walk into the woods, in a little hut, eating rice and beans,  listening to the pouring rain, laughing and sharing by candlelight, and planning the next day’s work.   

What will I do when I leave my beloved community? I have a crazy travel plan all worked out.  A college friend and Nicaragua Peace Corps Volunteer Lindsey will be visiting Panama, and then we will travel up to Nicaragua.  Then I will make my way down to South America, reunite with some fellow volunteer friends, and travel through Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia, Chile, and Argentina.  I will fly home to Massachuetts in time for Christmas, and will go from there.

Don’t worry loyal readers, there are still a few more blog posts to come!  I still am [Carolyn] in Panama for another month.