HIV/AIDS Seminar

I knew that it was going to be a good HIV/AIDS/sexual education seminar when the 2 first male participants to show up had an age range of 70 years – ages 13 and 83.  

Early childhood development activity

Participants of all ages.

There is plenty of grant money available for HIV education, so my fellow Comarca volunteer Kayla and I applied for funding to host seminars in our communities.  We included funds for breakfast and lunch, as well as supplies such as notebooks and certificates for participants.

Last week a few other Peace Corps volunteers and I held the seminar in my community.  We separated males and females into two separate classrooms, and gave the same sessions facilitated by males or females.  Working with the women, I was impressed how outgoing they can be in a group setting when they’re not overshadowed. 

Sample activity for STIs: "Yes there is a cure" and "No there is not a cure"

During the seminar we facilitated interactive presentations on Early Childhood Development, What is HIV/AIDS, Family Planning, Sexually Transmitted Infections, How HIV/AIDS is Transmitted, How to Prevent HIV/AIDS, and Sexual Rights.  Pretty heavy stuff, but we kept it light with lots of ice breakers and jokes.

Comparing my seminar to Kayla’s, whose community is more isolated and mountainous, one volunteer said, “I don’t see any snotty nosed kids here.”  This is referring to an easy health status indicator – if the kids all have the eternal common cold, there are probably more serious health problems abound for the kids and their parents.

Anyways, I somewhat defensively said, “There are kids like that here.”  But I looked around at the 25 participants and their kids, and saw that they were all put-together and healthy looking.  “Oh, these are the seminar-going people.”

Right then I realized the pit fall of this well-attended seminar.  I personally invited about 50 families to the seminar, and the people who I would consider most “at risk” did not show up – because they’re not much of meeting goers in general.  Who do consider most at risk?  Those men (and their spouses) who do the coffee harvest annually in Costa Rica for 1-3 months, because this time away from home is known to lead to non-filial behavior.  Also, those families that tend to have more marital problems, early school drop-outs, and early teen pregnancies (ages 13-17).  Living here, these things are just common knowledge.

Closing activity with AIDS ribbon

Women's classroom

Good at keeping a straight face.

It’s not like the seminar was a total loss though.  One of the major themes was de-stigmatizing (is this a word?) HIV-infected people.  Privacy is a totally new idea here, so if someone was tested, everyone knows.  Yes, you can hug them, you can even share a drink with them.   The other point stressed was that those infected with HIV will not yet have symptoms but can still pass the virus along – which was received as totally new information.  The best I can hope for is that the community leaders, these seminar-going folks, will pass the information along to the rest.

A Developing Country

When I went home to Massachusetts this January after 1 ½ years away, I was very happy to see that almost everything in my hometown was exactly the same.  In fact, the most controversial change was that Rutland’s Christmas tree was cut down.

I have been living in the most impoverished Indian Reservation in Panama for two years.  Considering only about 10% of adults here are even taxpayers, I sure have seen a lot of government-funded development.  In contrast to my hometown, it is all considered positive.  

Roads:

Big changes.When I arrived in November 2010, the road that reaches the primary school was inaccessible and muddy.  Thus we all entered the community through another paved road, and then walked for an hour.  The next year, this road was partially repaired and a new road was cut right past my house, connecting the primary school with the high school, which is an hour’s walk away.

What one rainy season does to the road.

The following rainy season, both roads became almost impassable again, but public transport was generally available up to the primary school.  This year, the entire road to the school was once again repaired and then covered with gravel so that it is does not get muddy anymore.  This is a huge investment in keeping the road passable year round.  This is the first rainy season ever that the ambulance can reach the primary school, as well as non-4WD vehicles.

School:

The local primary school is blowing up due to massive population growth.  The advantage is that larger schools are granted specialized teachers.  Since 2010, the school has grown from 9 to 14teachers, including a gym (P.E.), English (she won’t talk to me), and agriculture teacher.  One classroom has been added on, as well as several makeshift modular classrooms. 

New classroom and basketball court!

Health Center:

An addition was built on the health center that doubled it in size.  There has been no increase in the 1 staff member though, so I doubt its impact thus far.  It’s pretty though.

Technology:

This year, the President started a One Laptop for Every Child program for all high school students in 10^th through 12^th grade.  In June the students started bringing home laptops on weekends and I gave them a few basic tutorials.  Soon enough this program has enabled families around my community (no electricity) to watch illegally downloaded movies every weekend!

This bridge is on the To Re-Develop list.  Most of those planks have rotted away by now.

Stores:

This is all related to the improvement in roads.  All stores are operated out of houses. When I first arrived, I had to walk for 10 minutes and cross a stream to find the nearest store selling basic items.  Two years later, 2 of my next door neighbors have extremely basic stores.  I walk 1 more minute to reach a decent store, and a total of 4 minutes to hit a top-notch store [it sells exotic items like eggs and flour!].  Talk about competition.

 

Running Water:

The aqueduct project that I helped work on last year was government funded .  It currently benefits 9 households.

Babies

 Oh, so many.  I will crunch out the birth rate statistic one of these days. 

This baby Gabriel came home from the hospital weighing 4 pounds!

Granted, my community is only 1 village away from the border of the Reservation, so it will be another few decades before these changes will reach up into many parts of the Comarca.Nonetheless, way to go, Panamanian Government.

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.

Long Walk to the Beach

I showed up at my friend/English student Maximo’s house at 7 am.  I was relieved to see he was ready with boots and a backpack, because up until that point I wasn’t sure if our trip was happening for certain because we hadn’t talked since earlier that week.  We were walking from my community in the mountains to the beach on the Pacific.

This was my first overnight hiking trip with community members, so I tried to pack light like they always do.  No ipod, no shampoo, no towel, no sunscreen, no medicine.  Just a change of clothes, a mosquito net, soap, bug spray, and a flashlight.  

Maximo's mom sent us away with lunch wrapped in a banana leaf and we walked down the hill to find the horse that would be carrying our bags.  At this point I thought only the two of us were going, but we stopped by another house and picked up another guy Felipe and his 14 year old cousin Noriel.

We hiked down from the mountains, picking some oranges out of a tree on the way.  We exited the indigenous reservation area and passed through many cow pastures, stumbling upon  a stinky dead horse that thoroughly spooked our horse.  Eventually we crossed the Interamerican highway and on the other side, picked up some berries to make a chicha (drink).  We took a break at a river and went swimming: me in all of my clothes because that seemed like the proper thing to do.  I took a turn riding the horse and we continued on, passing through a town with a real paved road and electricity and big block houses.  Soon enough we crossed back into another cow pasture.

At some point Maximo asked me if I actually would have gone with him if it was just the two of us.  I said sure, why not.  He told me that his father, a respected pastor in the community, had told him we could not go alone.  I laughed, thinking he was referring to the fact that everyone would think we were boyfriend and girlfriend.  But Maximo told me that the Latinos hate to see an indigenous man with a white girl, and walking through the isolated countryside could get dangerous.  Maximo said, “Remember when those Latino guys drove past us when you were on the horse?  Did you hear what they said? What are you doing with her, she belongs with us.”   I had always been aware that racism exists here, but it still made me feel sick to become part of it.  Usually I am blissfully removed from it, living in an indigenous-only Comarca zone.

Felipe spotted two iguanas in a tree on the trail and whipped out his slingshot and bag of rocks.  After several shots he passed it to Maximo until POW the rock hit the leathery skin and PLOP the iguana toppled off the branch and fell to the ground.  Maximo grabbed the 2 foot long mini-dinosaur, crossed its legs, and tied its toes together so that it couldn’t move, and stored it inside my zippered plastic Disney princess bag.  Noriel climbed the tree with the slingshot and attacked the second iguana.  Now we had dinner in the bag.

I thought we were almost there but after all of our side diversions, we did not arrive to the beach until 5:40 pm.  I thought anywhere would be fine to make camp since it was about to rain, but we also had to find a spot on the beach with an opening in the fence for the horse to access pastureland after the 9 hour hike.

Our campsite on the beach, with iguana.

The most essential part of any Panamanian meal is a carbohydrate load, usually rice.  However I was cooking with men so we grilled the iguana in the fire and then cut it up and boiled it in the pot over the campfire.  In my community this iguana would be enough meat for 20 people but instead, we each enjoyed about 1/3 pound of meat, a complete rarity.  No need for carbs, I guess, because we didn’t cook any. 

We went to bed (palm leaves on top of sand) early but the mosquitos were relentless even with the net and the spray.  Maximo asked , “Do you like to hike in the night time?” I said, “Sure, I’ve done it before. “ The guys would talk mostly among themselves in Ngaberi so I only partially understood the situation.  Felipe wanted to leave our camp site at 2 am to hike to the crab hunting mangrove site, and Maximo was worried that I wanted to rest.

Our 2nd cooking spot on the way to the mangroves. I woke up to the men cooking breakfast.

We ditched the mosquitoes  at 2 am and packed up.  I scored the horse so I nodded off and trusted the horse to get me there.  We stopped at 5 am in a pasture, laid out the tarp, and I fell back to sleep, completely covered with clothing to hide from the mosquitoes.  I woke up to a wooshing noise and saw Maximo standing over me fanning a blanket because apparently the mosquitoes were biting through all of my clothes. 

Noriel reaching deep for a crab in the swampy mangroves

Horse, campfire, and tons of mosquitoes.

I caught one crab!

At 7 am we continued walking for another hour until we arrived at the swampy mangroves. We squished through the mud in our boots and stuck our arms inside holes in the mud, searching for a crab at the bottom.  I spent more time trying to get my boots unstuck from the quicksand-like mud, but I eventually grabbed one 4-inch crab. 

The mangroves

The guys were more successful than me but we all left covered head to toe in stinky swamp mud, and rinsed off in a nearby stream.  We packed up the 30 or so crabs and started the trek back to the community, heading back through the rice patties, the cow pastures, and the town.  At the river we cooked some crabs and rice over a fire to give us energy for the final stretch.   By the last hour of the hike, back in the Comarca area, my legs felt like jelly.  We stopped at a house to drop something off and they gave us a big pot of corn chicha .  Being a good water/sanitation volunteer I usually do not share drinks, but when Maximo hesitated with the pot I grabbed it, took a few gulps, and passed it on.  It seemed like the proper thing to do, hanging out with the guys.  Eight hours after leaving the crab mangroves, I made it back to my house exhausted.

But…I had a big engagement that night!  I had expected to arrive from our beach adventure mid-day. Every few months my nearest volunteer girl neighbors and I organize a “Culture Club” together, and that was the night.  So I quickly returned home, dropped off my wet muddy clothes, picked up my umbrella, and walked down to the school, hoping I would catch the last passenger car that runs almost all the way up to Emma’s community.  Unfortunately I missed the car so I walked up with my dog and arrived at 8:30.  It was all worth it though because there were fish, potatoes, and four friends waiting for me!

The trip to the beach was one of the best ways I could culminate my two years living in my community.  Men go on this trip usually once or twice a year to bring iguanas and crabs back to eat or sell.  I assumed I would probably never make the hike because usually only guys go, so it would be awkward to bring me along.  It was a good experience for later on in my service because I could understand more of the Ngaberi , keep up with the walking pace, and not be embarrassed about being a female in the presence of some friends.

Olympics and Nutrition

Just like last year (I’ve been here so long…) I went to the elementary school and gave a talk to the 10 first through sixth grade classrooms.

Theme: The Olympics and nutrition

My 45 min lecture went all over the place but they seemed to like it.

1)Using my world map ball, Where is Panama? Where is the United States?  Where is Great Britain?  How would you travel from Panama to Great Britain? 

Results:  When I asked “Where is a Panama?” with the globe in my hand, usually most kids would point cardinally in the direction of Panama City.  I think it’s so cool they know directions so innately!  But that wasn’t my question.  Some fifth and sixth graders can find Panama on my globe map ball.  One fifth grader knew where Europe is.

2)What is the Olympics?  How many countries are participating? [204]  How many athletes did Panama send? [7]  What sports are played at the Olympics?

3) Felt story board: How a kid gets ready in the morning before school, and what he/she does after school.  I thought this might be kind of degrading to the 5^th/6^th graders but they didn’t seem to mind.

4) Nutrition: Brainstorm locally available principle foods (ie starch), protein foods, and vitamin rich foods.

No one had heard of the Olympics before, so it was a good way to get the word out.  Overall it was a fun week!

Time for More Book Reviews and a Podcast Too

Into Thin Air (Jon Krakauer) was a page-turner.   I was appalled that the group heading out on the Everest expedition knew so little about the risks and the idea of teamwork.  Krakauer is kindof a jerk but it makes his writing more interesting.

Trinity (Leon Uris): I learned a lot about the Irish revolution (Catholic vs. Protestant) while enjoying the family storylines.  I just felt so bent out of shape at the end of the book about the lack of hope when living in extreme poverty.  It also depressed me how these Irish surfs’ late 1800s living conditions were about on par with my current neighbors’.  One of my best reads in Panama!

The Hunger Games  and Catching Fire (Suzanne Collins): Yes, I went through this craze.  I never tracked down the 3^rd book though and now I don’t feel the need to read it.  I guess that’s the advantage of living in a place lacking English books.

Snow Falling on Cedars (David Guterson): A really addicting historical fiction/mystery about post WWII tensions  towards Japanese Americans in the Pacific northwest and a cross cultural romance.  The author uses beautiful nature imagery that would make anyone want to live up there.

Salvage the Bones (Jessmyn Ward): A painfully realistic book about a rural impoverished mother-less family living through Hurricane Katrina on the Mississippi coast.

This American Life: I finally see the light with Podcasts!  I think I’m listening to some from 2007.  I have to say though, only about half of them make me miss being in America.  The other half make me realize just how many crazy people there are there.

Make your own piñata

I applied for and received a $45 grant to teach women in the community how to make simple piñatas for Mothers’ Day in December.  Here is the grant proposal:

Day 1: Covering the balloon with newspaper and flour paste.

In the Comarca Ngabe Buglé, very few families celebrate a child´s birthday because of the lack of funds to buy a piñata, which is the traditional Panamanian way to celebrate birthday.  The cost of traveling to the nearest town (San Felix) and purchasing a store-bought piñata is too expensive for most families. 

During Mothers´ Day week I would like to hold a 2-part workshop for mothers in the community to teach them how easy it is to make their own piñatas!  I will teach the mothers how to make a piñata using more locally available school supplies – newspaper, crepe paper, school glue, and a balloon. In the first workshop we will blow up balloons and cover them with paper mache made out of newspaper and glue.  Then we will leave the balloons to dry for a few days, and in the second workshop we will cover the paper maché with colored crepe paper and then fill them with candy so that they are ready to use.  I will also talk to the mothers about how they can go about finding these materials and how much they cost.

To clarify: In the U.S., piñatas are a fun thing to maybe do for one of your kids' birthdays, once.  Well, in Panama and probably most of Latin America, the piñata is what makes the birthday a birthday party.  The indigenous Ngabe kids in my community are aware of how birthdays are supposed to be celebrated, but the lack of money combined with the lack of cultural significance of birthdays results in quite boring birthdays. 

Some dads came too on the first day! (It was right after a meeting)

Due to a delay in receiving funds and other commitments, I only recently did the piñata activity with the community.  On the first day, the mothers came to my house to start making the piñatas by blowing up a balloon and covering it with newspaper.  It was necessary to return the 2 following days to apply additional newspaper, and on the fourth day to paste crepe paper.  

I offered people to take the piñatas home over night to dry, but everyone wanted to leave the piñata at my house due to the danger of small children or animals squishing the piñata.  That shows you how much privacy they have in their homes if there is nowhere to safely hang a balloon.

Some of the kids that come to play at my house every day.  They're all cousins.

The kids were more interested in the project and had more free time than their mothers, so they were the ones who actually came every day to do the work.  This means I had kids at my house making piñatas from 1 pm (end of class) until 7 pm every day for a week.

Excited to take the finished product home.

Successes: Fifteen families made and took home the piñatas.  Upon completion of the piñata I gave them each a bag of candy.  Some families are saving the piñata for an upcoming birthday.  The kids helped me make a bigger piñata which we gave to the church for its Fathers’ Day celebration.

Working on my front porch.

Failure: Upon follow-up I realized that most kids ate the candy before it made it inside the piñata.

Gosh darn it, these kids are so photogenic.

Overall, the project was a success but I realized that I never could be an arts and crafts teacher  for longer than a week.  I give credit to all of those elementary school teachers out there.